#i was unable to edit the fastness of the second set of gifs

[all-the-angels-stare]

Sakuyui Taisou Dance Trend: Pata-nee version vs. Leos version

Please do not repost on other social media platforms. Thank you!

[caffiend-queen]

Did anything good happen in 2023? Yes!!

Sometimes, we all need a reminder that the world is not in a death spiral. This is a wonderful article from the Washington Post that shows huge and promising developments and it's worth reading.

Research has indicated that uplifting news can provide an emotional buffer against distressing news and feelings of hopelessness — and even encourage optimism or action. So, in that spirit, here are some of the more uplifting developments you may have missed this year.

The WHO approved an effective new malaria vaccine.

In October, the World Health Organization approved a malaria vaccine — only the second time a vaccine against the potentially deadly disease has been created. The WHO said it expects the vaccine, which costs $2-$4 per dose and has been shown to reduce symptomatic cases by 75 percent after three doses within a year, to be available by the middle of 2024.

More than 600,000 people died of malaria in 2021, with children under 5 representing 80 percent of malaria deaths in Africa. The United States reports about 2,000 malaria cases every year, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says, with the majority of them contracted abroad.

Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, the director general of the WHO, said the announcement gave him“great pleasure. ... I used to dream of the day when we would have a safe and effective vaccine against malaria. Now, we have two.”

The FDA approved a groundbreaking pill to treat postpartum depression

In the United States, the Food and Drug Administration also approved a number of potentially life-changing drugs, including a first-of-its-kind pill to treat postpartum depression, which affects up to 1 in 5 women. The severe and debilitating condition can cause pregnant and new mothers to experience intense hopelessness and, in rare cases, psychosis — and it can last for years.

The new drug is taken once a day for two weeks and, unlike the existing treatment of an IV injection that may take as long as 60 hours to administer in a health-care setting, it can be taken at home — greatly improving accessibility, especially for parents caring for a newborn.

While experts say the drug may not be suitable for all women with the condition and won’t be able to treat all aspects of a new mother’s mental health, they argue that the drug is nonetheless a convenient and fast-acting treatment, and is particularly useful in the early days after a birth, when parents and babies start bonding.

Two sickle cell disease treatments gained approval

In December, the FDA also approved two therapies for sickle cell disease, a rare and debilitating condition that affects around 100,000 Americans, most of them Black. The disease causes extreme, constant pain and can drastically cut the life span of those affected.

The new treatments are both gene therapies that have been shown in clinical trials to stop severe pain crises for most patients: One uses a harmless virus to insert a gene into the patient’s stem cells, while the other is the first medical treatment to be based on the gene-editing tool CRISPR.

Both are intensive, expensive procedures — and require chemotherapy, which has significant side effects. But patients who have received the treatments have spoken of its profoundly beneficial impact on their lives.Jimi Olaghere, a father of three who likened the pain caused by the disease to glass shards sawing back and forth inside his veins, said that after years of being unable to sleep at night because of pain, he has energy again, and that the treatment has enabled him for the first time to plan for a future with his family.

We learned more about dementia and memory loss — and how to prevent them

Scientists also made progress in understanding one of the biggest health concerns for countries with aging populations — dementia, which can have a devastating impact, robbing people of the ability to engage in daily tasks.

While there is no proven cure for dementia, scientific research has continued to find that there many steps we can take to reduce the risk of developing dementia.

One study published this year suggested that lifestyle habits, including regular mental and physical activity, eating a healthful diet, and regular social contact were linked with a slower rate of memory decline. Another found that living in areas with more natural green spaces was associated with lower rates of hospital admissions for diseases including dementia, while separate research indicated that the use of hearing aids could cut the risk of cognitive decline by nearly half.

The FDA also gave full approval, for the first time, to a drug that modestly slows Alzheimer’s disease. While difficult questions about safety, effectiveness and cost remain, many neurologists say that having a drug that slows Alzheimer’s is nonetheless a milestone after years of failed trials.

After 20 years, countries agreed a treaty to protect the ocean

Human health wasn’t the only area to see improvements this year. Even as scientists voiced concern about the state of Earth’s health, there were some positive steps to protect the planet.

In May, more than 190 countries agreed a major deal to protect the biodiversity of the world’s oceans outside of national borders, after more than two decades of talks. The United Nations adopted the treaty in June.

At present, only 1.2 percent of the high seas — which make up two-thirds of the planet’s ocean surface — are protected, leaving large stretches at risk from rising temperatures, overfishing, pollution, mining and other threats. The deal will allow nations to start creating new marine protection areas in the high seas for the first time, although it still may be years before U.N. member states formally adopt the agreement and are able to begin the process of designating the new zones. Even then, enforcement may be difficult.

But the agreement has been welcomed as a much-needed start on the path to protecting 30 percent of the planet’s land and sea by the year 2030, a goal announced at a U.N. biodiversity summit in late 2022.

Brazil deforestation falls after reaching 15-year high

Last year, The Post published a series of storiesshowing the fast pace of destruction of Brazil’s Amazon rainforest under then-President Jair Bolsonaro. During his presidency, the rate of deforestation of the Amazon rose to a 15-year high, and those responsible for the destruction acted with impunity.

Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva returned to the presidency in January this year. His first six months in office showed positive signs, as authorities drove thousands of illegal gold miners from Indigenous lands, and the government said deforestation dropped by 50 percent.

There are questions about how likely the president is to reach his goal of ending deforestation by 2030, especially given government plans for a large-scale railway project and to pave a 540-mile highway. And deforestation isn’t the only environmental issue facing Brazil, which has come under scrutiny for its reliance on oil as it announced plans to align itself with a coalition of major oil-producing nations, OPEC Plus.

But European countries and the United States have once again offered to restart funding — which was suspended under Bolsonaro — to help end deforestation in the Amazon. Resuming the program would be a significant step for a rainforest that stores billions of tons of carbon and pulls millions more out of the atmosphere every year.

Even in a year of difficult news, moments of humanity shone through

While suffering across the world may have dominated the headlines in 2023, this year also reminded us that kindness and generosity exist, even amid crises and tragedy.

In March, after tornadoes devastated Mississippi, a group of Ukrainian refugees made a 16-hour journey to distribute water to victims of the disaster. Many had only just arrived in the United States — and still had immigration forms to fill in or job interviews to prepare for — but hoped to help a community they felt faced a struggle similar to theirs.

“When they stop what they’re going through to help someone else in need, that to me is the definition of love,” Corie Jones, the deputy director of Volunteer Mississippi, told The Post.

And in October, as police officer Arizbeth Dionisio Ambrosio was clearing debris after Hurricane Otis swept Mexico, she came across a woman with a crying, hungry baby. Ambrosio, who was breastfeeding her own 1-year-old, offered to nurse the baby and was able to soothe the infant — a moment of empathy that was praised around the world, and led to her receiving a promotion.

Ambrosio told The Post she didn’t consider what she did to be anything heroic or out of the ordinary. “It was what I needed to do and I did it,” she said. “When you are in a situation like that, you do not think whether to help or not. ... I felt peace because I was with the baby giving him what he needed at the moment

Find the full story here.

[what-the-dark-has-foretold]

The Downfall of Earth

Nikolai x fem!reader, implied (main?) Fyodor x fem!reader

My Navigation is here.

Warnings: toxic!Fyodor? (Reader is punished for questioning his plan/morals), reader wears a dress/skirt, dubcon (kinda (?) implied that Fyodor knows the reader wants it, but she is not specifically asked. She does want it though), penetrative sex (with Niko), some sadism?, fyodor = god?, degradation, humiliation, exhibitionism/voyeurism (Fyodor watches), spit, some impact play, reader passes out (after sex), a bit of praise at the end, (beginnings of) aftercare

Note: I looked up russian petnames on actual "learning russian" websites, however, I am not russian so if it still sounds weird, please let me know 😊

Edit: changed one sentence because it felt off

Wordcount: 597

Fyodor sat on his chair, leaning towards the table, calm voice explaining the intricate plans signifying the downfall of earth - or at least the sinners inhabiting it. Nikolai was draped over the round, wooden surface, his arms sprawled over its sides. His head perked up as he noticed you enter the room. His smile widened as you walked closer, but quickly turned into a pout as you first came to a halt next to his old friend. Then, slowly leaning back, he watched you finally nearing his spot, as you looked over the plans cluttering the table.

"I don't think that they are sinners."

Oh, sweet, sweet naivity he dubbed you.

Fyodor's gaze snapped up, eyes cold and stone set on your frame. Devoid of all sympathy. He said something in russian, but before the translation hit you, Nikolai had already grabbed you, bend you over the table and lifted your skirt to cut your panties off.

"Fuck her into submission, Nikolai."

You shuddered, eyes wide and heart racing at the sudden change of atmosphere. You could barely stutter out a word, before you felt Nikolai at your entrance. Everything was so hot, you could feel Fyodor's unforgiving gaze on you, simply watching your frame - no doubt pathetic - tears in your eyes before his friend had even started.

Nikolai sunk into you with a single thrust. The stretch had your hands frantically searching for a hold, but he only put a hand on your back, pressing you down against the hard surface, starting to thrust fast and rough, his near manical laughter hitting your already ringing ears.

You gasped everytime he hit home, as if your body was trying to catch up with breathing, but being unable to. You could barely see now through all of your tears.

Then you felt a soft, cold hand reach to tilt up your face. Nikolai's savage thrusts had your body harshly jolting against the table, and your mouth opened into a broken scream.

For a moment, in your delirious state, you could swear you saw a god. Blurry, but divine. Spit hit your face a second later.

Your mind caught back up with your surroundings and instead of the ringing in your ears you could now hear the fast slaps of skin against skin. And louder even Nikolai's crude descriptions.

Suddenly, you could feel him lean down, his warm breath hitting your ear:

"Such a good whore for us, huh?"

You couldn't do anything but squeeze your eyes shut. You felt your orgasm nearing. And with you regaining your senses with two sharp slaps Nikolai delivered to your ass when he straightened his back again, you finally came. Eyes wide, electricity running through your body and a scream stolen from your honeyed lips.

As your body settled, feeling tired, cheek pressed against the table, you could feel Nikolai's thrusts slow, hands starting to softly carress your back.

"You did so well, Milaya," you heard Fyodor murmur before pressing a kiss to your temple, as your world slowly faded to black.

You woke up with your head in Fyodor's lap and legs lightly massaged by an oddly quiet Nikolai. The latter smiled at you, as he noticed your open eyes. You realised that you were completely cleaned up and wrapped in warm and comforting clothes.

"Well hello there, Solnishko," Nikolai hummed, leaning forward a bit, warmth in his gaze.

"Ah, you are awake? Then drink some of my tea while I read something for you, hmm, Milaya?"

You lifted your head to see Fyodor looking down at you, fondness dancing in his eyes.

[hairringtonsteve]

wrong house, right time

[joaquin torres x reader]

summary: Sometimes, life just sucks and nothing can be done. But when one (1) Joaquin Torres shows up to fix for air conditioner, your week gets just a little better.

word count: 2,262

a/n: I wasn't going to post this publicly, but @anna-phora told me to do it, so I'm accidentally stepping into MCU fic. Which like... was the eventual plan if I'm being honest. but this was written specifically for her because I'm a great friend. (edited so it's not including her name, lol)

________________________________________________

There are some weeks that are worse than others. You know this. You have accepted this It’s par for the course in life. But really – couldn’t Teacher Appreciation Week be better than the other weeks? It doesn’t even have to be by a lot. You’d take a smidge at this point. Hell, you’d take just about anything. You rested your head against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinet and sighed. On the counter, your phone chimed, signaling a text. A moment later, it chimed again.

“Better be something good,” you mumbled. You fumbled for it blindly, refusing to look for it. This week was exhausting. You weren’t going to move more than you had to for the next two days. After a few seconds, your fingertips bumped up against the edge. Unlocking it without looking, you finally cracked an eye open, pulling away from the cabinet just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.

A second later, two more texts popped onto the screen.

You let out a snort of laughter as you read the messages. You’d almost forgot. One of your neighbors had recommended him, saying that a friend of a friend was pretty handy with fixing things, and would probably do it for a small fee. You’d hesitated at first, but thinking about how much money a handyman would be had swayed you over.

Glancing down at your dog, Darcy, you hummed softly. “If you’re extra nice, maybe he won’t charge us.”

You ran a hand over your face as you headed through the kitchen and to the front door. You hadn’t heard any knocking, so you assumed he was right in that he was at the wrong house. Opening up the door, you peered through the screen. It took a few seconds, but you spotted a guy slowly wandering down the sidewalk, eyes glued to his phone with a toolbox in his free hand. Every few seconds he would glance up, frown, and then look back to his phone. You figured that it was him, but you didn’t say anything. It was the safe thing to do, to not yell at random men from your house.

And besides, he was cute.

Your gaze slipped over him as he walked. Short hair, strong shoulders. Despite the distance, you could tell that he was handsome. A few more steps and he was one house down. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery.

His head jerked up as he looked around, his gaze eventually settling on you. You quirked a brow at him and he held up his phone in question. You nodded, motioning for him to come inside. A grin stretched across his lips and something in your chest twisted.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was really cute.

Very cute.

Handsome.

Shit.

You swallowed and mustered up a grin as he started up the steps. Darcy started barking, excited at the prospect of meeting literally anyone. You unlocked the screen door and took a few steps back, hooking your fingers through her collar to make sure she didn’t take a running leap at him.

“It’s open,” you called as he reached the door. Darcy barked, tugging forward in Joaquin’s direction. “Sorry about her, she’s just really friendly.”

Joaquin was already kneeling down, setting his toolbox down beside him. “It’s fine, I love dogs. You can let her go.” He paused. “If that’s okay?”

You shrug as you let her go. Darcy shot forward, leaping towards him with an excited bark. She was all over him, unable to decide whether jumping or nuzzling was the way to go. You straightened up, your heart already doing triple time at the sight.

“So,” he started, taking his eyes off of Darcy for a second to look up at you. “Your AC is acting up?”

You nodded. “I have no clue what’s going on with it, but it won’t work. Thank you so much for coming to check it out.”

“Oh, no problem at all,” he said, rubbing Darcy’s ears. Her tail wagged furiously. “Especially for a pretty girl.” Red crept up from his neck to his ears, flushing his face in a way that made him even more attractive. He ducked his head, bashful, as he focused solely on Darcy. “So what’s her name?” The sentence came out fast, like one long word.

“Oh, um, it’s Darcy.” Words were hard to form when the phrase ‘pretty girl’ was echoing around your brain.

“Like the author?” He lifted his head as he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had to read a lot of her stuff in high school. Pride and Prejudice was always my favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You read a lot?”

You shrugged. “Well, I am a high school English teacher.”

Joaquin laughed and nodded his head. “So you read a hell of a lot, then?” His grin settled more into a smile as he -- somewhat unsubtly -- looked you up and down. A beat of silence, and then: “So, you wanna show me the unit?” He grabbed his toolbox and stood up, arching his back a little as he tried to stretch it out from being crouched down.

“Sure,” you said as you started up the stairs. It was quiet as the two of you walked.

“So when did it stop working?” Joaquin asked, breaking the silence.

“The other day. It just started to sputter a little bit and then quit after a few seconds.” You opened up the door and motioned him inside. The AC was still in the window, still mocking you as it sat in the hot, unmoving air.

“And it hasn’t started up since?”

“Nope. I’ve been dying of heatstroke since Wednesday.”

“Makes sense,” he said as he began to shrug off his jacket. The black t-shirt underneath fit him well.

A little too well, if you were being honest.

He stepped over to the unit and began to lift the window up, as though he were planning to get it out by himself when it was clearly a two-person job.

“You need help?” You asked, already moving towards him.

“I’ve got it, I’m strong,” he said, waving you away. You went to argue with him, but he was already wrapping his arms around the thing. With his attention focused on lifting the unit out of the window, you were free to watch as his muscles strained. What was a two-person job for you was easily a one-person job for him. He took his time in setting it on the ground, guiding it down gently. He pressed his lips together as he sat down on the ground and reached for his toolbox. He looked up to where you were still standing.

“Oh, did you want me to -- I can head downstairs? So I don’t bother you?” You took a step back, but paused as he shrugged.

“Or you could stay up here. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your stomach flipped. You stepped inside and took a seat on the ground a few feet away from him, making it a little harder for Darcy to investigate what he was doing. That was it. You were there to keep Darcy away. But as you sat there, you realized that you had no clue what to talk about? What was he into?

It was quiet for a few seconds before he asked what your favorite movie was. And suddenly, the two of you were off. Time passed quickly as you spoke, moving from favorite movies to books to exchanging family stories. You learned that he was in the military, and traveled often. You’d asked what he did, and he just shrugged his shoulders, looking from the AC unit to you, and smirked.

“Stuff.”

“Like top-secret stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” he’d said, holding the smirk for another second before laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

You liked it.

Despite it feeling as though no time at all had passed, he announced the culprit -- a bad wire -- and it seemed like once he’d figured it out, he was done. But when you glanced at the time on your phone, your eyes widened. Two hours had gone by.

You shifted your gaze over to the window as Joaquin straightened up and tried out the AC unit. It worked like a charm. He nodded and gave the unit a little pat, as though silently congratulating it for working once more.

“So how much do I owe you?” You asked as he turned to face you.

“Nothing, that was easy.”

“That was two hours, I have to give you something.”

He shook his head. “Your company was enough.”

“Come on, let me--”

“Y/N,” he said, taking a step forward. “Your company was worth it, I’m not accepting your money.” He pressed his lips together, looking as though he wanted to say something more when his phone went off. He glanced down at it and sighed. “One sec?” He asked, already swiping to answer the call. “Hey Mom, yeah I -- yeah. Yeah, yes. I can pick that up. You want me to snag one for Grandma, too? No, I just finished fixing up the AC, I -- She’s -- Mom.” You couldn’t tell what was being said, but his cheeks were starting to flush. You could hear laughter on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You raised a brow. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she wants me to stop by the store on my way to visit her.” He glanced from you to Darcy and sighed. “I should probably be on my way out.”

Disappointment made itself at home in your chest. “Right, yeah,” you said, heading towards the door. The two of you made your way down the stairs, Darcy following happily behind. When you reached the first floor, you went to lean against the couch. Joaquin had his hands in his jacket pockets as he made it a few steps after you. He stood there, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, seriously. I cannot thank you enough for fixing that,” you said.

He shook his head and grinned softly. “It was no problem, Y/N.” He took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you around?”

You returned his grin with one of your own. “You’ve got my number.”

His grin grew even wider before he turned and headed out the door. Darcy trotted over to the door after it closed, her eyes tracking his every move as he headed towards the sidewalk. You watched for another second before calling Darcy away from the door. A minute and one treat later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. Idly, you switched tabs from Facebook to Tumblr, trying your hardest to avoid thinking about the last couple of hours before you heard your phone go off. Thumbing into your messages, your face instantly lit up.

________________________________________________

Two months later, you found yourself walking towards a small, hole-in-the-wall bar tucked into a sidestreet. Joaquin’s hand on the small of your back as you walked, you trying not to laugh as he gave you what felt like a rundown before one of his missions.

“Just… ignore them if they try to embarrass me, okay? I’m much cooler than whatever they say.”

You laughed. “Are you, though? Are you really?”

“Hey,” he said, giving you an indignant look as he held the door open for you. You stepped inside, taking note of how warm it was inside. People crowded around tables, the low hum of voices occasionally getting louder when the television in the corner showed someone making a basket. Joaquin tapped your shoulder, nodding to the right. “I am very cool, I’ll have you know. Just last week, I –”

“Hey, Torres!” A voice called from a back booth. Joaquin sighed as he stepped in front of you and lead you towards the booth. “Weren’t you the one to say, ‘be there at seven and don’t be late, I really like this girl?’ And you’re what, thirty minutes late?”

“Thirty-two minutes late, by my count,” another voice chimes in as the two of you get closer. You’re already grinning as you note how Joaquin ducked his head.

You lean forward, just close enough so he’ll be able to hear you. “You really like this girl, huh?”

It was difficult to hear his response with his back turned to you, but you watched as his shoulders slumped and caught what sounded like a “not you too.” You tilted your head back and laughed, bright and airy, as you approached the table. Your eyes settled on the two men crowded into the booth, your laugh cutting off as recognition settled in.

He hadn’t said that they were these friends.

“Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you. Like a lot about you.”

He’d only ever talked about work in the abstract, which made sense. It wasn’t like he could go on, telling you all the details about whatever mission he was on. But he’d spoken of coworkers and even one that had become a friend. But he’d never mentioned names, or the context of things, or…

“Honestly, the kid doesn’t shut up about you.”

Or the fact that they were literal Avengers.

Joaquin groaned. “Can you two—”

Sam Wilson settled back into his seat and grinned as he motioned for you to sit down. “I’m Sam, this is Bucky. It’s good to finally meet you.”

[i-make-questionable-choices]

And Then There Were Two

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Injury, Character Death (alluded to).

Word Count: 1,655

Summary: Regardless of how hard Dean tries to keep everyone safe, some things are still out of his control.

A/N:I have been sitting on this one since fucking January, it was complete, it was edited and for whatever reason my brain was like: don't post it. So here I am finally overcoming that bullshit to tell you that one: I am alive. And two: this is going to be the start of a crap load of angsty oneshots because this is the first square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card: Amputation. As always, please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!

“Y/N!”

Being weightless was strange, your stomach lurched as your body was whipped backwards. It was almost like being on a rollercoaster when the seatbelt wasn’t super snug and you kinda got jostled around a bit.

Except this time wasn’t just a tiny bit scary. This time was terrifying.

You hit the rocks with a sickening crunch, and there was no doubt in your mind that you had broken most of your ribs. You could almost declare yourself lucky -  the angle at which you had hit the wall had saved your head from being crushed like an empty soda can; and you simply tumbled down to the ground - almost.

The rocks in this area were prone to crumbling, and a net had long been installed on the cliff face to keep any of the loose cracks formed by erosion from breaking off completely and served as just an extra second for anything below.

When you had collided with the wall, however, the weight of your body sliding against the rocks had severed the net.

And the boulders came crashing down.

“No!”

Deans second cry of anguish was accompanied by the agonized screech of the burning wendigo; Sam had managed to get close enough with the blow torch in that brief moment of chaos to set the monster alight.

It was as though hell were raining down on you, the dust from rock hitting rock eluding your eyes as you tried to heave yourself up and out of the way, only for a softball sized chunk to hit you in the back and send you sprawling since more.

And then you couldn’t move.

The pain was unbelievable.

A screech ripped through you, loud enough to be heard as the final boulder hit the ground with a deafening crash. Loud enough to make Deans heart freeze in his chest.

Loud enough to make Sam’s drop into his stomach.

Their safety disregarded, the pair rushed towards where they had last seen you, shoving what rocks they could to the side with hysterical strength.

If Sams heart had dropped to his stomach before, he didn’t know where it was when he saw you.

The back of your shirt was tattered, soiled with blood and grime from the rocks where it had scraped across. One particularly large gash where the small chunk of rock had hit you.

As he took in the limpness of your form, he barely noticed Dean come to his side, trying to take in what neither of their minds wanted to accept that they were seeing.

Your arm, from the middle of your forearm and down, was pinned under one of the largest boulders from the collapse.

Already there was blood trickling towards you, small snakes leaving the shelter of the rock to pool against your face.

Dean threw himself against the rock, unable to grasp that even with the two of them, the rock that pinned you was simply too large to be moved.

Sam was too shaken to stop his brother, tentatively, he brushed your hair out of your eyes, relieved to feel the faint fluttering of your breath against his skin, and to see your eyes closed, you were, at the very least, not in pain.

He looked up at his brother.

Dean had collapsed against the boulder, in the faint moonlight, Sam could see tears budding in the corners of his eyes, mimicking those he felt himself.

“Dean-”

He stopped himself, loathing the way his voice cracked, hating the resignation to the inevitable.

“I know.”

Sam wondered if he hated that even more; Dean would always protest when any plan of theirs put one of you in harms way. He would always insist that there could be more options, even if that might drag things out so long as you and Sam were safe.

They both new there were no alternatives here.

Dean crouched beside you, shrugging off his jacket, then his flannel, the former of which he covered you with and the later of which he began to wrap around your arm. Accepting the stick from his brother he looped into the fabric, finishing off the tourniquet.

Neither brother bothered to check the time to ensure it didn’t stay on to long. There was no point.

Hesitantly, Sam retraced his steps to where he had dropped his knife. It had fallen from his hand as he ran towards you. When he had first gotten it he had appreciated the sedation at the end. Not to much to make it stick itself in a monster and not want to pry out, but enough to bite through the bones.

He hated that now, even though he knew he should be grateful, it was their only way of getting you out from that boulder.

Dean had hardly moved when he returned, still crouched over you, but one hand now cradled your cheek while the other rested underneath your head as if to protect you from the hard ground.

Sam could hardly keep his voice from cracking when he addressed his brother.

“You’re gonna have-”

“Don’t.”

Deans voice was so final, so flat, that Sam sagged from the power of but one word.

Without Sam having to finish, Dean moved his hands to steady you, one resting on the back of your shoulder, the other one your mid-back. The spurt of blood at the first saw of the knife was sickening, and Dean had to turn away lest he throw up. His heart seized in his chest as you tensed under him, and he steeled himself to hold you down to keep your thrashing at bay.

Your eyes shot open first, darting about before they fixed on his face, then on Sam’s blade that was sawing through your upper arm. As your body lurched, Dean prepared himself for a scream, only to have you vomit what little snack you had eaten before the hunt, and they pass out once more.

The sound Sams blade made as it sawed through your bone was spine chilling and part of Dean was relieved when it was over, the other part was even more inclined to vomit. 

 Barely seconds later, your body shifted as the knife severed the last of your skin and what was left of you arm slumped towards the ground.

Sam, who had discarded his own flannel alongside Dean, reached it over and wrapped it around and over the stump; he too could feel a sickness rising his stomach, the reality of what he did hitting him like a freight train.

As Dean scooped you up, gently maneuvering you over his shoulder, he met Sams eyes for the first time since the rock slide. Just like himself, Sam had silent tears racing down his cheeks, despair visible in the depths of his eyes. Dean longed to reach out and hug him, but more pressing matters were at hand.

The pace they made as they rushed towards the Impala was astounding. The hike out had taken them almost and hour and a half. It only took them half the time to make it back to the car. The whole time Sam had has his phone out, searching for a signal to call 911, Dean had tuned him out 4 minutes ago when he had started talking to the dispatcher.

They were to meet the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Fortunately the road out to Deadman’s Cliff was quiet and Dean didn’t have to worry about how fast he went as he pushed the Impala to her limits.

Sam, who was riding in the back keeping, albeit pointless, pressure on your arm, and checking that your were, in fact, still alive, had had to brace himself against the roof and seats a few times as Dean burned around corners much faster then they were meant to be taken. Sam would later wonder how they hadn’t crashed in those moments.

Only when they heard the wailing of the ambulance, nearly an hour from where they had began their drive, did Dean ease up on the gas. Fortunately for them, the ambulance was about ten kilometers down road, so they had just enough time to make a safe stop without the car flipping over.

It seemed unreal as the paramedics leapt from the ambulance, the bright lights of the interior felt fake as he watched them unload the gurney for Sam to set you on, they strapped you in, protecting your neck with a cervical collar before pushing you in. He hardly could process time as he watched Sam climb into the ambulance the doors shutting as Sam turned back to look as him and then the ambulance sped away, leaving a broken man standing in the middle of the highway.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, it could have be seconds, or minutes, maybe even hours; but eventually Dean snapped back into reality. He could no longer hear the wail of the ambulance, or see the bright lights even on the vast expanse of plains. He could feel the tear stains on his cheeks though, could feel the aching in his heart, and the terror in his mind. As he made his way to the Impala, he could feel a strange numbness seep through him.

He and Sam had done all they could to help you, but you had still gone almost and hour without basic wound care, resulting in a high chance of infection. The blood loss and the shock wouldn’t help you fight it off; and you had gone two whole hours without any professional help. Even then, the paramedic’s were still limited in what they could do to help you. And with a sinking feeling, Dean realized that your death could be coming far too soon.

It was too much, with so many feelings left unsaid, and so many more coursing through him, Dean Winchester sat behind the wheel, and wept.

-

Supernatural Tags: (open)

Dean/Jensen Tags: (open)

@akshi8278​

Bad Things Happen Bingo Tags: (open)

@badthingshappenbingo​

[x-jinxa-x]

Glitter and Snow

Happy Holidays Noahmarshallapologist! I am your Choices Gift Exchange!

Paring: Mutual Pinning Noah Marshall x MC (Jaz Park) Word Count: 1,756 Warnings: Set in 2020 during the pandemic Notes: Set after ILB, Jaz is human again, small crossover with Home For the Holidays, and is set in 2020 so pandemic is mentioned and they are wearing masks. Also, takes place on Christmas Eve.  Edit:@choicesgiftexchange​

Turning off the engine of the car, Noah let out a long tired sigh, stretching out his arms the driver’s seat of the car in an attempt to work out the stiffness in his body. 

It had been a long drive. He had been driving for almost five hours all together, stopping occasionally to refill the gas and take a bathroom break. 

He looked out the windshield to the sight in front of the car. The sun had set a short while ago and dark clouds were now filling the sky above. He couldn’t quite remember when, but it had set just in time.  

He turned his attention to the Jaz, who was bundled up in her black hoodie and fast asleep in the passenger’s seat. 

She had slept through most of the drive, like she usually did during the day. The sun still affected her like she was still a monster despite her newly revived body. She could make it through very cloudy and dark rainy days, but if the sun was out at any point she would be suffering from some kind of pain that would lead to her sleeping throughout the rest of the day till sunset. 

“Hey Jaz…” Noah reached over, poking her shoulder gently to wake her.

Jaz shifted in the passenger’s seat, turning her head towards him and cracking her eyes open. “…Hm?”

“We’re here.” He pulled his hand back, watching her and waiting for her reaction. 

She yawned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “And just where is here?” She asked, turning her head to look out the windshield to the sight in front of them. 

Her barely opened eyes widened quickly as she registered the bright golden glow Christmas lights and giant tree covered with large glittering ornaments that he had parked close to. There were large glittery snowmen, light displays in varying colors and figures, and a series of candy cane markers that seemed to make up a path that lead deeper into the town. 

“Winter Haven.” He answered. He glanced at Jaz but quickly looked away, finding it hard to look her in the eye. “Conner told me about it a while back. The town apparently goes all out during the holidays and…and well, I just thought you’d like it.”

She turned her head to him, a wide and bright grin spread across her face. “I love it.” 

He pressed his lips, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to form at her words. Warmth spread across his cheeks. He had hoped that she would like the place, but there had been a cloud of doubt that had hung over his head throughout the drive here that nearly made him turn around and abandon the whole idea. Her smile made him glad that he didn’t. 

Jaz stuck her hand into the pocket of her hoodie, digging around inside for a moment, before pulling out her mask. “Do you want to look around?”

“Yeah.” Noah nodded, pulling out his own black mask. That was kind of the point of coming. Part of him wanted to say no and crawl into the backseat of the car to recover from the long drive, but the rest of him wanted to see her reaction to the lights.  

The two put their masks on before exiting the car and making their way towards the lights. There weren’t many people around though the few that were had their own masks on and were keeping a distance from each other. Masks definitely made it easier to go around in public. Noah had worried about people recognizing either of them, he had gone through some close calls in his time on the run, but the masks kept strangers from making second glances at them.  

Jaz was entranced by the displays made of light around them. Her eyes bounced around the area, trying to take in everything that glittered in the glowing Christmas lights. She stepped forward, diving further down the pathway made of plastic candy canes that lead the way through the lights stepping quickly to see what was next around the corner. 

Noah watched her go, unable to fight the smile that formed on his lips. 

It was still hard to believe... 

Jaz was really back…

It was still hard to believe she was back and now traveling with him wherever he could think was safe. Sometimes it felt like a dream he was going to be ripped away from. He had hoped he could find some way to help her, to keep his promise of making her human again, but...he still couldn’t believe the ritual had really worked.  

It had been a risk. Tom’s friend had been the one to find the thing in one of their grandmother’s old books that had been locked away by their grandfather. Conner had worried over the risks that came along with the ritual, Tom’s friend was nervous about anything that involved magic given the whole fighting a cult and their ghostly grandmother thing, but Jocelyn had argued that the risk had to be worth it. 

For once, Noah had agreed with Jocelyn. He had to take the risk. Jaz had been trapped in the woods for far too long and he had been struggling to find anything that could help her. He had to take the first chance he got, and thankfully, it had paid off. 

He kept his promise to her. 

He brought Jaz back.

“Noah?” He snapped out of his thoughts. Jaz was standing in front of him, holding two white paper coffee cups in her gloved hands. “What’s up?”

“…Nothing. Just a little tired.” He said with a shrug. It wasn’t a complete lie, he was tired from the drive but he could hold out for a little longer. His eyes went to the cups in Jaz’s hands and he rose an eyebrow out of curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Free apple cider.” Jaz said with a casual shrug of her own. “The lady at the stand was out of hot chocolate but it was free.” 

“Thanks Jaz.” Noah took the cup from her. As he took hold of it a white flake spiraled down onto the white lid. “Huh?” He pulled the cup away, wondering just what had fallen on his lid. Maybe it was a piece of glitter from one of the giant ornaments hanging around them. 

“Whoa…” Jaz’s amazed whisper beside him was soft and could have easily been missed is he wasn’t standing across from her. He looked to her and found she was turned away from him, her head tilted up to the sky above. Another white speck floated down, followed by another, and another, and another...

Snow. It was snow.

It was snowing. It was Christmas Eve and it was snowing…

Noah let out a chuckle. “This is something out of a hallmark movie…” He moved to stand beside Jaz. He turned his head to look at the dark night sky above, amazed by the sudden snowfall. It wasn’t his first experience with snow, but it was the first time he felt a swell of excitement at the sight in years. 

“Yeah…” Jaz spoke beside him, but she didn’t sound okay.

Noah turned to look at her. Her head was turned down, looking at her boots. The excitement that had  

Noah pressed his lips behind his mask. 

He couldn’t see her whole face, but the way her head turned down to the ground made a knot twist inside of his chest. It was great to have her back, but there were consequences for doing so. A legally dead girl couldn’t just step back into society and move on, especially when there was a big question about just how human she was now that she was back. Some part of the power was still with her and it still affected her.

She couldn’t go back to Westchester, she couldn’t reunite with her old friends, she couldn’t go back home, and even if she could, bringing her suspected murder to see her parents for Christmas dinner probably wasn’t the best idea.

He reached his free hand to take hold of her empty hand. That caused her to look up from her feet and to meet his eyes. There was a curious look on her face. Noah suddenly found himself unable to speak. There was something he wanted to say, that he had wanted to tell her for a while since he had come to the realization.  

Noah blinked at her, mouth open, unable to speak.

Jaz blinked back at him, mouth closed, waiting patiently for him. 

They stayed like that in silence for a long moment before Noah finally sound something to say. 

“Um…Merry Christmas Jaz…” 

He turned his head way to look at his own shoes, cheeks warming with embarrassment. He should have just stayed quiet...

It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but now…now wasn’t the time to tell her. It was still too soon, she was still getting used to being back and having to be on the run with him.

He could tell her later, once they figured out…whatever this was becoming. Maybe.

He was about to pull his hand away when Jaz suddenly laid her head on his shoulder, causing his back to stiffen out of shock. What was she doing? Why was she doing it?  

“Merry Christmas Noah…” She spoke softly. Her hand gave his a gentle squeeze. He stared at the Christmas display across from them, a lit up snowman, just to focus on anything and keep himself from saying something stupide to ruin the moment. Jaz continued, either not noticing Noah’s silence or choosing to ignore it for the moment. “And…thanks, for this. It’s really sweet.”

Noah felt his cheeks grow warmer at her words.  

Jaz pulled her head away from his shoulder but didn’t pull her hand out of the hold. “I heard a kid freaking out because there’s a dinosaur dressed like Santa. Wanna try and find it?”

Noah looked at her and nodded, still unable to speak. He wasn’t sure if he could even try and no to her right now, or even say anything at all.   

She stepped away from him and he had expected her to pull her hand away from his, but she didn’t. When he started to loosen his, she gave his hand a squeeze and pulled him along, not letting his go.  

She didn’t let his hand go until they had to go back to the car almost an hour later. 

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part nine Word count:  ±4350 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part nine: Dean finds an unexpected guest in the bridal suite. Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+ only! To prevent spoilers, all spoilers for the entire story are listed in the masterlists. Music: One Of These Nights - The Eagles (opening scene), Skin On Skin - Queens Of The Stone Age. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @winchest09​ & @kittenofdoomage​ who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     With a grunt muffled by his pillow, Dean wakes up. He keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the blissful slumber for a moment. A familiar song echoes through the room; he recognizes the peculiar intro after a few beats, identifying it as an Eagles song. He sighs and smiles, relieved. He’s relaxed, well rested and pain free; thank God for vicodin. Strangely, though, he didn’t remember the radio playing when he fell asleep. Then he notices the sound of the shower running. It’s only now, when Dean opens his eyes, rubs his face and looks over his shoulder. While licking his lips, he stares at the purple clock on the wall; it’s almost 7 PM.

     “Aren’t you a bit late for your play date?” he comments, loud enough for Sam to hear him, as he slides off the bed.      Still a bit sleepy he pads over to the bathroom entrance, barefoot. As he does, Dean glances at the table, where he remembers Sam dumped most of his stuff. His laptop is set up, buzzing like it’s sawing down an entire forest. Next to the table he notices a half emptied duffel bag. Only his own old leather jacket hangs from the coat hanger; Sam’s is missing. The alarm bells start ringing in his head by the time he notices that his car keys aren’t on the little cabinet next to the bed where he left them; his brother isn’t here. But if he isn’t, who is? 

     In three large strides he is next to the bed and grabs his gun from under the pillow, then sneaks up to the bathroom again as he flips the safety switch off. Although he was fast asleep a minute ago, he’s wide awake now. Adrenaline rushes through his veins when he enters the bathroom, his weapon ready to fire between both hands. Instead of some supernatural creature, which he was prepared for, he stumbles on Zoë, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.      “No, I’m right on time,” she answers, grinning.      “Zoë?! For fuck's sake!” Dean lowers his gun and breathes out. “What are you doing here?”      She turns to him and crosses her arms in front of her chest with the usual attitude.      “Let's start over: ‘Hi, Zo, nice to see you!’”      “Well, if I said that, I’d be lying,” Dean responds, not amused by her unexpected visit.      “Oh, come on. You’re not still cranky, are you?” she chuckles.      He walks out, pushing his gun under his pillow again. It’s just now that he notices the music is coming from Zoë’s Macbook, which she has installed near the window, the curtains hiding the device from plain sight.      “I am still mad, as a matter of fact. So for the second time; what are you doing here?” he asks again, grumpily.      “There was a fuss at the motel, I got into a fight with the shifter. Broke some stuff, police on their way. Yada yada. You know how it is,” she explains carelessly.      “The shifter?” Now she has Dean’s full attention. “You got into a fight with the shifter?”      “Yeah. The bastard followed me from the bar to the motel. Don’t ask, long story,” she says, apparently not finding it worth the elaboration.

     Dean follows her with his eyes. “So he was at Beetle's.”      “Yep, as Terry Cliffer. He almost had me fooled,” she admits with a chuckle.      “But you got him, right?”      Dean gets his confirmation, her raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head saying enough.       “Who do you think I am?” she scoffs, insulted.

     Dean takes a look at the huntress, eying her from top to bottom before a grin twitches at the corner of his mouth. He might still be cross with her, but having her standing in his hotel room in nothing more than a bathrobe, does raise a few dirty thoughts. Dean has to admit; she looks hot as hell. He wouldn’t mind having a peek at what’s under that robe, guessing that she’s not wearing anything else, since she just took a shower. Her hair is darkened by the water, droplets seeking a trail down her collarbone and into her cleavage. Although she washed off her makeup, she still has these warm, penetrating eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate. Her skin is smooth and a natural blush fires her cheeks. Zoë is one of those girls who doesn’t need to highlight her strong features with all that shit woman put on their faces to look pretty.      “Do you really want me to  answer that?” Dean counters sly.

     “Oh, never mind.” She rolls her eyes and strolls to the window, glancing outside into the night. “I got him, but no thanks to your brother.”      Dean's expression goes blank. Oops, Zoë might have a reason to be pissed off with them once again.      “He fucked up?” he assumes.      “Just a little,” she scoffs, raising her hand and putting her forefinger to her thumb, only leaving a small space between her fingertips. “He chased the shapeshifter and apparently had an encounter with him in his hideout. That didn’t go so well for your dear brother and he got locked up with the others. By the time I got there, the damn chameleon had already shed. So guess who I was facing?”          Dean raises his eyebrows; Sam of course. Worry washes over him.      “Is my brother okay?” he asks demanding.      “He’s fine,” Zoë snaps. “Thanks for asking how I am, by the way. I was the one who got attacked from behind by a shapeshifter slash Sasquatch.”       The huntress closes the curtains further, not wanting this to turn into a peepshow for people passing by.      “Where is Sam now?” Dean questions, his nerves calmed a little, but still not totally at ease.      “He volunteered to cover tracks. He mentioned something about you having a girl over for the night,” she recalls.

     Again Dean freezes. Shit! Vicodin girl. He almost forgot about her. She’ll probably show up in two and a half hours or so. His gaze shifts to the scarcely covered woman in the room again. It would be the night of the century, two hot chicks in one evening. In a fucking bridal suite. Maybe Sam didn’t pick such a bad place afterall. He looks over, capturing the huntress with his emerald greens. He can't help it, but he knows his eyes are sparkling.      “Looks like he was right.”       She grins at that remark, amused by his attempt to woo her. Going along with it, she walks towards him, slowly and elegantly.      “You would love to see that happen, wouldn’t you?” she teases.

     Dean takes a shuddering breath, stunned to witness this seductful side of Zoë he hasn’t quite seen before. The song in the background fades to Skin On Skin by Queens of the Stone Age as the gorgeous woman approaches. He has to admit that he fantasized about her once or twice today, because - come on - just look at her. But with their rivalry, he never thought it would happen. Fuck, please let me be wrong about that one, he thinks to himself.

     With lust in her eyes, she takes the collar of his flannel between her fingers and reels him in. When she moves closer, her mouth hovering over his, he reluctantly creates a distance. He expected a lot from Zoë, but this can’t really be happening, right? Was she playing hard to get all this time? He could've sworn Zoë wasn't into him at all; all they do is fight.      She pouts. “Oh, don’t get awkward with me. You want to.”       “Y’know, I normally don’t do this until the second date,” he says, referring to their talk this morning, when she patched him up.       “The second date? I don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long before you headed for your home run,” she counters.

     Dean tilts his head slightly and nods, admittingly; she’s got a point there. Her arms cross behind his neck and she looks deep into his eyes when he returns her glance, challenging him. Her tongue peeks past her teeth, only just, but Dean notices, his focus flicking down to her lips.      “Well then,” she responds. “What are you waiting for? You like to have fun, don’t you?”      He stares back and can’t help his jaw from going slack. Automatically he reaches for her waist, fingertips softly pressing into her flesh. He seems to be looking in the eyes of Medusa, unable to move. She inches closer, pressing her hips into his, her pelvis rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans. Her grip around his neck tightens; he has nowhere to go if he wanted to. Their noses touch, he can feel her warm breath on his skin.      “Dean?”      “What?” he husks.      She tilts her head and moves her mouth close to his ear, ready to share a little secret.      “I am fun.” 

     Okay, that’s it. There’s no possible way that any straight guy in the universe could resist Zoë Sullivan, not to mention Dean Winchester. He gives in and meets her half way in a bruising kiss. Without any hesitation whatsoever, she opens her mouth to him immediately, swiping her tongue along his so unbelievably intense, that it catches him by surprise. His heart rate picks up as she grinds her body against his, her nails running through his hair, scratching his scalp to the point that it hurts, but in the best kind of way. He lets his hands explore her figure, feeling her shiver under his touch, even through the fleece fabric of her robe. 

     Leaving no time to waste, Zoë moves her hands down his toned chest, then lower, until she cups his erection through his jeans. The normally so fierce hunter, who always stands his ground no matter how challenging the fight or how crippling the pain, almost caves then and there. He breaks the kiss when oxygen becomes scarce, pressing her forehead against hers. Their noses touch, but she doesn’t kiss the hunter again. He can feel her grin against him, though, when she softly kneads his hardening dick through the fabric of his pants, breathing in his air when he groans. Dean sigh heavily; Jesus fucking Christ.

     Despite the undivided attention she offers, he manages to undo the knot in the sash, opens her bathrobe slightly and slips his left hand between the fleece material and her skin. She feels warm, still heated from the shower, or is it something else? He travels down her body further, tracing the lines of her silhouette, slowly descending towards her core. With his palm pressed against the softness of her abdomen, Dean allows his touch to travel lower. Zoë stiffens, pausing her actions when the hunter opposite of her ghosts over her inner thighs, riling her up. Hungrily she buries her face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder, muffling a moan when the hunter parts her folds with his thick fingers and press into her. Now it’s Dean who smirks, pleased with her reaction and the slick he feels between her legs; she’s so goddamn wet already. 

     He repeats the act, dipping into her soaked center, gathering her juices before rubbing a small circle over her clit, finding the sensitive nub with ease. Zoë jerks, her grip on him tightening, a sound between a whimper and cry escaping her mouth. Dean can’t possibly imagine it, but judging from her response it seems like she hasn’t had sex in a while. She’s so eager, so willingly allowing him to please her; quite the opposite to the attitude he got from her so far. 

     The hunter pulls in a sharp intake of air when, despite approaching her own high, Zoë unbuckles his belt, flicks open the button of his jeans and runs down the zipper enough to have some space to work. She slips into his boxers, wraps her fingers around his hardened shaft and slowly starts to jerk him off. Dean tilts his head back and closes his eyes, grunting, a fiery sensation spreading to his limbs and rolling back to gather in his coil. Pre cum drips into her hand, smoothening the friction of the pumping motion. He collects himself, his jaw setting when she takes advantage of his exposed throat, sucking on his skin that without doubt will leave a mark. Fuck, the things he would do to have that sinful mouth somewhere else right now.

     Trying to distract himself and prevent his climax from arriving embarrassingly fast, he pushes two fingers into her heat, the feel of the soft velvet of her walls delightful. His thumb flicks over her clit again while he curls his digits, letting them glide in and out in a steady rhythm. It’s obvious it has an effect on her, her sighs labored. The steady tempo in which she was pumping his erection until a moment ago, begins to falter. He feels her buckling forward and supports her, ignoring his injured shoulder, the dull pain suppressed by painkillers. The hunter pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her again, his arm snaking under the bathrobe she’s still wearing, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades. 

     Standing in the middle of the room while working each other over proves to be more difficult by the second, as he too feels his legs tingling and close to giving out, but it adds to the accelerating moment as well. For a second he considers taking her to that waterbed bed and fuck her into the waves until she comes, but he decides against it. He’s going to save it for later, because Zoë might think he’s a cocky bastard, he is determined to show her his arrogance when it comes to his skills in the bedroom are more than justified. 

     Her breathing picks up, the exhales more audible whenever her mouth leaves his, turning into sultry moans now that she’s nearing her peak. Unable to multitask at this point, her grip on his rock hard dick loosens further. Thankfully, because he was about to blow, and he’s nowhere near done with the voluptuous huntress.      She clenches around him, her nails digging into his back now. He watches her as her mouth hangs slack, her lips red and full with arousal. The sounds she makes will without doubt travel beyond the walls of the suite, but she doesn’t seem to care; Zoë is anything but a prude. 

     Dean continues to rub the pad of his thumb in ovals, while pushing his fingers as deep as he can, three of them at this point. She begins to tremble, her eyes shut tight, her brows pulled together.      “That’s it,” he husks. “Does that feel good?”      “G-god, yes,” she manages to utter. “Dean, please… m-make me come.”            He stares at the face, which is contorted with pleasure. Holy fucking shit, she just begged him. Zoë Sullivan just begged for an orgasm. Who would have thought he’d ever hear a plea like that fall from her lips. Dean doesn’t have to be told twice; he turns up both pressure and speed by a nodge. She stops breathing all together, her muscles so tight that they spasm. The build up is almost too much for her too handle, her painfully blissful grip and her quaking body telling him she’s almost there. 

     Right as Dean wonders how much longer she’s going to last without air, Zoë cries out, coming undone on his fingers. With a content smile on his lips he works her through it, her dripping walls pulsing as he slowly and gently moves out and back into her, while he supports her crumbling form. Watching a woman climax has always been one of his favorite aspects about sex, but witnessing the tough as nails huntress completely spent by his doing, has got to be the sexiest view he’s ever seen.      “You alright?” he chuckles, low and gruff.      She nods, regaining composure. Dean retrieves his digits from her and is stunned when she takes his hand and brings it up to suck his fingers into her mouth, her tongue collecting her own juices. He wets his lips, too, his dick responding to the sensual sight. Jesus, just when he thought she couldn’t get any hotter.      Zoë lets go of him then, pushing him off, teasingly. He looks up from her lips on which the slick shimmers, into her hypnotizing eyes. She grins devilish as she speaks the words he hoped to hear.      “Now it’s your turn.” 

     Without breaking the contact, she lets the bathrobe slide from her shoulders, watching confidently how Dean takes her in. It doesn’t happen often, but he’s lost for words. Before him stands a woman who could be on the cover of even the most exclusive skin mag. He felt her body under his touch and knew she was gorgeous, but to actually see her completely naked, shows that ‘gorgeous’ doesn’t quite cut it. Her beautiful hourglass-shaped waist, proportioned breasts, not too big for her frame, but small and perky. Slender yet muscular, clearly trained and prepared to take on evil. Shit, she’s the American wet dream.

     When he looks closer, he notices the stories her body has to tell. Tattoos decorate her rib cage, her groin and the inside of her biceps, but right now Dean is too distracted to philosophize about the meaning of the ink. Scars inflicted by the things that she hunts damaged her tanned skin, but don’t take away her beauty. In fact, it adds to it, because before him stands a kick ass woman, a powerhouse.

     Zoë grins when she witnesses the adoration in Dean's expression, walks up to him and kisses him eagerly. The fire in the pit of his stomach turns into a blaze again, his respiration soon quickening. Not having much clothing to pull off her body, he helps her unbutton his flannel without breaking their kiss. When she rips off the shirt, he can hear the stitching crack, but he doesn’t give a damn. His hands trace the lines of her figure, brushing past what seems to be a burn on her shoulder. When he touches it, she winces slightly.      “Where you get that?” he wonders, a hint of worry in his voice.      She shrugs. “Shifter tried to shoot me again. It’s fine, the bullet barely grazed me.”      Dean, not so careless, lets his eyes linger on the damaged skin, before he reaches for her face and caresses her jaw softly.      “I’m fine,” Zoë promises, smiling at the concern in his eyes.

     The huntress closes the gap between them and presses her lips on his again, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. She folds her arms around his neck and he lifts her up, the strain of his shoulder reminding him of his own injury. She giggles lasciviously and hooks her long legs around his waist, as he walks over to the waterbed and drops her on it a moment later. He hovers over her and kisses her pulsepoint, the moan that escapes her total blasphemy.       “It’s your turn, remember,” she purrs.      Impatient, the huntress attempts to shove his jeans down, tracing the hem of his boxers, but he stops her.      “Who says I was done with you?” Dean teases, leaving a trail of kisses from her breasts to her stomach, before he retreats.      Zoë pouts. “Don’t pull back now.”      “I have a little something to make this even more interesting,” he says with that up-to-no-good smirk on his face, his eyebrow arched.

     He slides off the bed and walks to the table, where he unravels the gift basket he received downstairs. Smirking he turns around and shows off the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger.      “You have a dirty mind, boy,” she says pleased, liking where this is going.      He crawls back on the bed, which waves like a light swell at sea, and while he leans over her, he gently grabs her wrists and cuffs them behind the steel bars of the bed. Then he sits up and looks at her naked form.      “No, I just have a very bright mind,” he corrects.      “Whatever you want, Dean. I’m all yours tonight.” She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, spreading her legs and leaving nothing to the imagination.      “You sure are.”

     He leans in again, but instead of kissing her, he takes the gun from under his pillow. Startled Zoë tries to sit up in her restraints, unpleasantly surprised by the sudden change of character.      “What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, concerned.      Dean gets off the bed and casually leaves his gun on the table, buttoning his jeans again and fastening his belt. He then proceeds to walk to his duffel bag, from which he takes a silencer. Slowly, he strolls towards the bed again as he screws it on.      “I’m hunting,” he answers, as a matter of factly.      “What are you talking about? It’s me, God damn it!” She tries to convince him, a hint of panic in her voice.      “Yeah, about that. Zoë, right? I have to say, good impression.” He admits. “You almost had me. It wasn’t until you got out of that robe when I noticed you missed a tiny little detail.”      They stare each other in the eye, him confident, her nervous, waiting for the other to say something. When the silence remains, Dean takes the lead.      “You shot her, you son of a bitch,” he brings to mind, anger thick in his voice.

     It’s just now that the person - or rather, the creature - in bed realizes what is going on. Stammering, she looks at Dean. The injury Zoë was left with after last night’s events is nowhere to be seen. Yet a bullet, probably coming from either her or Sam’s gun, has grazed its shoulder.      “Ah, you forgot about that, didn’t you?” He chuckles triumphantly, aiming the gun.      “No! Wait, Dean! I can explain--”       “- I bet you can.”

     A dim shot followed by complete silence, ending the life of the shifter once and for all. Dean breathes out and stares at the entry wound in its chest, where he sent the bullet right through the heart. He swallows thickly, because the resemblance with Zoë is uncanny.       He twists the muffler from his gun and tugs the weapon behind his belt, quickly picking up his shirt from the floor. After pulling it over his head, he checks his phone. The list of calls shows none unanswered; Sam didn’t call. He grunts, realizing that his little brother is probably in trouble, and Zoë, too. He has to find them, for all he knows they could be dead. Fuck! This case wasn’t even supposed to be our case! 

    Pondering, he rubs his face, worried about his little brother. He has to keep it together; now is not the time to lose his cool. Think, Dean. He looks around, his gaze lingering once it captures Sam’s computer. The hunter stalks towards the laptop, moving his fingertip over the mousepad to activate the screen. 'Completed', it says.      “Completed what?” Dean wonders out loud, frustrated.      Goddamnit! Why did he get caught up in his anger? He should have tried to get that bastard to give up the location of his hideout. Now he has nothing! 

     Dean scans the screen, noticing a pop up asking if he wants to open the downloaded file. He double clicks ‘Yes’. A PDF file opens and a blueprint of the entire area fills the screen. He reads the title; it’s a map of the city’s sewer system. Sam apparently was trying to find out from which house or drainage the shapeshifter was working. He remembers his brother saying his hideout must be somewhere on 110th Ave NW, but that’s a damn long street. He sighs angrily; how the hell is he gonna find them?

     Then he spots something unusual. A red sewer line follows the street, running from the main sewer all the way up to a house, far from the main road. When he reads the marginal note, he learns that the particular sewer line was put in the ground this year. Suspicious? Could be, most houses so far off the main roads have their own tanks. And wait a minute, isn't this the same place they checked out last night? He was quite sure it was clean, apparently they missed something. It’s not much, but it is the only lead he has right now. He closes the laptop, grabs his leather coat and rushes to the cabinet to grab his keys...      “Fuck!” he roars.

     How could he forget? Sam has the keys. Sam has the fucking car! He runs his fingers through his hair and curses again. He has to steal another vehicle, he’s got no other option. Then his eyes capture the shifter, lying naked and dead on the bed, blood leaking from the chest wound. Let’s rephrase that question; how did that filthy lizard get here? In three strides Dean is at the window and shoves the curtains aside. Relieved, he breathes out. The hunter wouldn’t have thought so last night, but he’s damn glad to see that shiny black Harley Davidson, with the keys still in the ignition, waiting for him underneath the window. 

     Dean opens the lid and climbs out, not wanting to be seen by staff in the lobby. Skillfully the hunter descents down the old fire escape and lands on the ground with both feet, bending his knees to cushion the landing.       The Harley is a sight for sore eyes, especially now that it’s his only available form of transportation. He starts the engine, the headlight spreading a bright light ahead. The bike is heavy, it surprises him how Zoë is able to handle the cruiser so easily. One thing is certain, he realizes, as he gasses up and leaves the parking lot; he better not fuck up this bike. Because Zoë will either kill him or haunt him, depending if she’s still alive or not.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part ten here

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[ncbodyknows]

Original: 我楽多イノセンス Music: Last Note. Singer: COCO Artist: Ars Movie: 라면

Published March 4 04:23 on Nico Nico Douga

He really felt as though it had been a while since he had time to sit down and do a video like this, but looking at his upload history, Youngjae had to admit that many a sleepless night had led to much more than he would like to acknowledge. It was simply that his latest two months had been so full of recovering physically and mentally from the new years stage as well as juggling trainee schedules on top of school and commission work. He had been sleeping a lot more than he usually did, but now that he was slowly returning to a normal state of mind the insomnia also presented itself. 

And almost with perfect timing his associate had sent him the finished video edit of the artworks Youngjae had sent to him but a week ago. He liked that about Ramyeon, the guy worked fast and was good at what he did, and Youngjae was genuinely bothered by the fact that he couldn’t pay him more than he did, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t made out of money, as much as he wanted to be, and although he did know means of getting some he was never going to walk down that path again.

At first Youngjae had been stuck between two songs, but unfortunately his now room mate Moonbok had intruded upon him as he was trying to decide and demanded to know what kind of music the artist was listening to. Without spilling too much he had explained the basic meaning of each song and without hesitation Moonbok had stated that this one sounded a lot like Youngjae. Of course that had caused him to shoo his room mate out, but somehow the comment had still remained within his mind and refused to leave him, and along the way he had actually complied to the unintended suggestion.

Now came the problem of recording everything without Moonbok waking up. Youngjae wasn’t really sure how isolated the walls were, but he was bored out of his mind and just wanted this out of the way now while he had time to do it. Soon enough everything was set up and his microphone tests were finished, and everything was ready to go. Letting the music play in his headphones, only one covering his ears so he could hear his own voice too, Youngjae began.

There wouldn’t be any proof in the colours No meaning to the lines I’ve drawn from habit, no, no Bringing indistinctness, pretending to be the best Saturating the air with sighs, pathetic, unenlightened, dizzy

At first he had told himself that Moonbok had just picked this song as fitting to Youngjae because he was an artist much like the main character, and perhaps that too was the case, but the more he had dissected the lyrics, the more he had realised that it wasn’t actually too far fetched an assumption to say that this song was befitting him. There were quite a bit of the lyrics that he could relate to a lot, and it didn’t really make him happy. But perhaps he would achieve something personal from singing a song that hit as close to home as this one did.

“An imperfect talent,” is it enough to get by? It seems the peak is close, there’s nothing ahead, no, no I’ve finished filling up the blanks, nearing a perfect form Unable to fulfill expectations, well I guess it serves me right, huh?

“Self-contradiction” impatience: unable to become a gear “Self-hatred” that spins in tune with others “Self-deception” telling myself that this is what I wanted “I’m just trash” withered logic, an ashen fake

Somehow the words felt increasingly bitter in his mouth as he reached the chorus. He had often wondered if he even was improving, if he had really reached the peak of his potential and that if he could ever get past that barrier that separated the hopeful from the professionals. But was it his own expectations or that of others that he couldn’t live up to?

Contrast, that is, light and dark A prepared gradient, zero one two Get right, get right, innocence obscured by a blockage Flaring up, spinning my wheels, Getting slightly lost, killing myself, Get down, get down, don’t try to act cool, ‘kay? Can’t just be sitting on the fence, discord But I’ve got to be consistent and do something Stand up ready to go, paint it out, come on, one two three

The high paced tunes of the song betrayed its depressive undertones as it was with most vocaloid songs, but Youngjae supposed that was what had initially attracted him to the genre. Many of the lyrics were incredibly easy to relate to for his younger self who was fighting the world in its entirety, and even now in his adult years where the battle he fought was with himself. First chorus over and done with he let the music play for a bit before the next verse began.

The ideals I stored up, imprisoned on the canvas This painting I created has no name, no, no As I eat through my pretenses I lost my hold on reality Full of corruption I guess I should just learn to love it, huh?

“Did you knoqw?” no one can grasp your dirtied hands “Nothing can be done?” with your selfishness piling up “Given up yet?” even if I wishper to myself, ‘long ago’ “You’re just trash, huh” I can’t follow the ‘right face!’ command...

With each self-depreciating word, Youngjae had already made his way to the second chorus of the song and was thus nearing the end too. The more he sang, the more he realised how much he absolutely hated it, hated how well it fit and hated the situation he had managed to plant himself in. Why the song title contained the word ‘innocence’ he still didn’t understand, for he felt as though he himself was far from, having been tainted so much by life already. If anything it was perhaps a hope for a changing point. To get drawn back into the light.

If you’ve decided you want to change Even if you can’t see what’s ahead, surely, surely You can’t call that running away Even if someone labelled as an adult Can only sing meaningless words Isn’t that, isn’t that enough? It seems the wind changed directions And the button the girl pressed Stand up ready to go, is probably the sign to start running

Although he hadn’t actually watched the anime or read the light novels and all he knew of Mikagura School Suite and the character Kuzuryuu Kyouma was what the video portrayed. From that alone he was ready to gather that although their situations were similar in many ways, this guy was ready to take a step forward, and had people who refused to give up on him. Was Youngjae fortunate enough to have such as well? He wanted to believe. Wanted to trust in the people around him, but trust was not something that came easy when paranoia was rooted so deeply within his personality. He wanted for someone to come and sweep him away too, and maybe, just maybe it could happen, but it was a long and tiresome process and could never be as easy as it was in the stories.

“Self-contradiction” searching for someone to be in tune with “Self-hatred” filled with weakness; for I can’t rid myself of these feelings “I’m just trash” it doesn’t matter what colour the sky is “Was it easier to believe that?” ah, I can’t stop the ringing in my ears

Contrast, that is, light and dark A prepared gradient on zero, one, two Get right, get right, innocence obscured by a blockage If that’s the path you’ve chosen Even if you can’t see what’s ahead, hey, hey You can’t call that running away

Even if someone labelled as an adult Can only sing meaningless words Isn’t that, isn’t that enough? It seemed the wind changed direction And the button the girl pressed Increased the saturation of the world As if engulfing everything Stand up ready to go, see, even the canvas Was wrenched open

The song finished up and as the last tunes played, Youngjae let out a sigh. He had honestly been sighing too much lately, but somehow he found the exhales leaving him at any given moment, especially when he felt affected by something. He sat there in silence after cutting off his microphone for a moment, and was ready to edit everything together when he suddenly heard an applause coming from the doorway. His glance shot towards what should have been an empty space immediately but to his horror his eyes locked on the long haired figure of Moonbok who was obviously not sleeping. What should he say in a situation like this? ‘Yeah you see I’m kind of a cover artist in my spare time’? No, he had something much better. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

[kgveom]

distance. // jinyoung.

Jinyoung x Reader

we sticking to fluffy stuff still, bare with me.

long distance.

word count: ~1.5k - not edited

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

august 8:00am

august 4:30pm

august 3:00am // the next morning

three weeks later // september

Nights were painfully lonely. No matter how your time spent went, you were always upset after spending time with your friend. It physically caused your heart to ache. You cared about him too much. And you knew he was unattainable. You had to accept it but it was easier said than done. Since you lived in different parts of the world, you rarely had a good chance to talk to him. Your messages sent wouldn’t see a response until hours later and if you were lucky, you could reply quickly and have an uninterrupted conversation.

Around 10pm, you were ready to call it a night. You let out a sigh as you got comfortable in bed. Tonight, you had to accept that you wouldn’t be hearing from Jinyoung. Turning away from where your phone was set, you closed your eyes. Within minutes, your phone let up behind you. A bit to excitedly, you turned around picking up your phone. “Facetime?” the message from Jinyoung read.

Without hesitation, you flipped open your laptop to provide some light and called Jinyoung. He picked up on his end within seconds. “That was fast,” he smiled. “Why are you still up? Don’t you have to be up in a few hours?”

“Don’t worry about me,” you returned his smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Make some tea. Tea always helps you sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep right now. I want to talk to you.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “How was your day today?”

The two of you exchanged some small talk. You enjoyed telling him how your day was, even though you mostly complained about the stupid people you seemed to encounter on a daily basis. Unfortunately, since he was on a short break, your call couldn’t last long. Your excitement wasn’t enough to keep you awake either and didn’t stop you from dozing off.

“Y/N,” Jinyoung abruptly said.

“Hm?” You hummed in response.

“You look cute when you’re half asleep.”

“Stop teasing me,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

“Jinyoung!” You heard Jaebum’s voice come in. “We need to get back to rehearsal.”

You watched Jinyoung’s eyes as they switched between his screen and Jaebum.

“You’re still coming to visit, right?” His voice sounded hopeful. “Before our comeback?”

Jaebum was now visible on your screen. He gave a small smile and a wave, trying his best to not interrupt you. “That’s the plan,” you nodded. “Hi, Jaebum.”

“Hi, Y/N,” he responded. “Don’t distract Jinyoung too much.”

Jinyoung gave him a nudge as if he was telling him to stop.

“I’d never be able to come between him and his work,” you yawned. “He’ll always pick you guys over me, any day.”

You all shared a small laugh. Jaebum turned to Jinyoung before standing up. “Come on, we need to practice.”

“I’d pick you second, every time,” Jinyoung smiled. “Behind the group of course.”

“I know you too well.”

“Jinyoung!” This time Mark was calling him.

“I have to go now,” a laugh seemed to be forming on his face. You didn’t know what the guys were doing behind his phone but it sounded like they were beginning to cause a ruckus. “Bye,” he waved before the “call ended” screen appeared.

You set your phone back down after locking it. Without looking, you closed your laptop. Your room was dark once again and you fell asleep instantly. Happy but still lonely.

one week later

third week of october // 3:30am

Delaying your trip broke your heart. Truly. You were actually looking forward to following Got7 around to all their performances. You were incredibly proud of your friend. But, family came first and your aunt needed you for a couple weeks.

You had fallen asleep around 6pm the night before in anticipation for your trip. Now, being 3:30 in the morning, you were waiting at your terminal gate. Your flight was schedule to take board within the next 30 minutes and take off by 4:30. Hopefully. That means you’d be landing, technically, the next day in Korea at around 9am. 

You hadn’t spoken to Jinyoung since you told him your trip needed to be pushed back. A single message was sent here and there but the last conversation you had was about a week and a half ago. You had both been busy - you caring for your aunt and him working - but you hoped he hadn’t forgotten that you were coming. Waiting for your flight, you became more and more nervous. You tried watching videos of Got7′s comeback stages to help calm your nerves, but it didn’t seem to help. You pulled out your phone to send a quick message before turning your gaze out the window. “Flight 2489 for South Korea, your plane is now boarding at gate 3,” the voice from over the intercom pulled you from your thoughts.

13 hours later // 8:00am in seoul

You hadn’t received a message back from him but that was honestly the last thing on your mind. You couldn’t wait to get off of the plane. You’d been sitting for far too long and if the plane had hit anymore turbulence, you were going to lose it. You slept on and off the whole flight. Thankfully, the person sitting next to you stayed minding their own business. You raised the sliding window cover, revealing the bright sun. You looked out hoping to see land but all that there was to see was the ocean waters still. 

It didn’t feel like too much longer before you saw land again. The last hour seemed to literally fly by. The pilot came over the speaker informing everyone what the weather was and time. Most importantly, our exact arrival time. You still hadn’t heard from Jinyoung. It was starting to sink in now. You probably wouldn’t see him for a couple days. The feeling of irritation brewed in your chest the more you thought about it. You flew out here for him and he couldn’t even bother to send you a message. 

Once the plane landed, you hunched your shoulder’s over. You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Walking through crowds of people was easily your least favorite thing to do. Most people just walked too slow. You cut in and out of the crowd, slipping into every small open space you could get into. When you were finally in the building, you looked around to figure out where you were going but all the people behind you flooded in front of you, making it difficult for you to see where to go. You saw hands waving about, flagging down people from your flight but that was it. You decided to just start heading a random direction.

“Y/N!” 

You furrowed your brows, whipping your head around.

“Y/N!”

You heard the same call. You were now frozen in your spot, unable to pinpoint where and who was calling you.

“Y/N!”

You heard it one last time before you spotted Jinyoung. You felt your facial expression lift as you began walking over to meet him halfway. 

“I thought you weren’t going to hear me,” he smiled as you reached out your arms for a hug.

“I thought you forgot about me,” you shared, hugging him. 

“I could never forget about you,” he poked your side as you released him from your hug.

2:57pm 

“So, you had a good flight?” Jaebum asked taking a sip of his freshly made drink. 

“Other than it being incredibly long, it was alright,” you smiled.

“Excuse me,” Jinyoung stood from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

He brushed past you as he headed towards the restroom in the cafe. Naturally, your eyes followed him. “You and Jinyoung?” Jaebum’s voice pulled you back over to him.

“What about Jinyoung and I?”

“You like him, don’t you?” He smirked. You didn’t answer. “Would it be too much to say that you love him?”

You sunk down in your seat. You could feel your face beginning to burn up. You couldn’t make eye contact with Jaebum and that was enough for him to assume your answer. “Don’t say anything,” you kept your voice low. “This distance between us is good. We don’t need to be any closer. It’d be bad if we were.” You kept your head down but brought your eyes up to look at Jaebum. “Besides, the feeling isn’t shared.”

“You don’t know that,” Jaebum shrugged, sipping his drink again.

You relaxed your shoulders and rolled your eyes. “You know him, he doesn’t “love” easily.” 

Jaebum just shrugged again while setting his drink down. His eyes ventured above your head and he gave a small nod. You turned to see Jinyoung was returning to the table.

“What’d I miss?” He smiled, scooting his chair closer to the table and grabbing his mug. 

“Y/N was just telling me about how her studies are going,” Jaebum winked.

“And you haven’t told me how school is going?” Jinyoung pretended to be shocked, knowing full well you’d catch him up with it all. 

[zak-animation]

Overview

An intensive and productive week on the course, I wanted to put a focus on the narrative research essay task and balance this academic written nature of the project with the medium of stop motion animation. Additionally, I took the time to develop my skills within Maya: re-attempting the Flying Saucers task at home and playing around with the animation workspace. Whilst I was unable to make any significant progress on my digital metamorphosis project and the animated sketchbook assignment, I instead took the time to undertake extensive research into my chosen film of Into the Spider-Verse, alongside producing a range of stop motion iterations and preparations for the ‘box lift’ task.

As a result, I’ve been able to make a series of stop motion animations that go beyond the limitations of the brief, adding a sense of narrative and interaction between off-screen characters and am confident that I’ll be able to begin work on the first draft of my essay next week. With juggling several projects at a time, as I am now, it’s important to be able to focus on particular assignments. Splitting my time between these briefs has been difficult, but I feel like I’m working to strike a balance between my ambitions for each assignment and the limited time I have left.

Narrative Research This week, I was able to decide on an analytical direction for my essay and gather a range of research sources in preparation for the drafting process. My initial idea was to analyse the plot of Into the Spider-Verse, exploring how the creators not only presented an updated take on the Hero’s Journey storyline, but also told a refreshing new version of the classic Peter Parker Spider-Man origin story we all know.

Despite this, I realised that the film’s use of this hero narrative is nothing ground-breaking or particularly new. Rather, what makes Into the Spider-Verse rather of academic study is the animation and visual language: an experimental, alternative approach to animated filmmaking, which is already making waves in the industry. Instead of taking a theoretical approach into my chosen film, I began researching into the comic-inspired aesthetic and crisp, stuttery style of CG animation.

The film represents a ‘break-through’ in animated storytelling, pilling compositional and aesthetic inspiration from it’s comic book source material, adapting dynamic storytelling poses and graphic printing techniques to the animation. In my research for this essay, I wanted to take a look behind the scenes and how this new visual language came to be. Looking through the Art of Into the Spider-Verse book, and trawling through countless interviews, online articles and really anything I could find on the process and film itself led me to the work of visionary Alberto Mielgo, the 2012 Disney experiment Paper Man and how the filmmakers created the signature ‘crunchy’ animation style.

Having completed this extensive research into my chosen film, I’ve reached a place where I’m ready to begin the drafting process. With my own question and a range of research sources ranging from the academic literature of Paul Wells to videos breaking down the animation process of Into the Spider-Verse, next week I will begin writing my essay. My aim is to have a completed draft ready for my individual tutorial, in which I will likely be reducing the word count.

Digital Principles This week, I put a major focus on other projects - taking the time to produce iterations and further develop on the other tasks. As a result, I didn’t really have time to make any significant progress or development in this project.

Stop Motion This week, we were given our second stop motion exercise: to animate a character lifting up a box. With this task, I’m considering all of the basic principles of animation: specifically timing, anticipation and follow through - additionally to staging the sequence properly.

To begin the week, I took the time to prepare for this week’s stop motion task in a depth I’ve never really done before. Producing my own reference footage and sketching from this has allowed my poses to have an authenticity to them, and I was able to act out a range of characters and situations in the process. Having this additional research and preparation in the filmed reference has given me a solid understanding of the action I will animate.

For my first attempt at this task, I experimented with working from this live-action reference. Whilst this allowed me to see the filmed reference poses directly in Dragon Frame, this method of working also posed several problems - and ultimately resulted in a lacking first iteration. The armature’s movement jolted from one pose to another, the staging of the sequence was ineffective and the timing of the motion was simply wrong.

My main take away from the initial attempt was to consider the posing of my armature more - take the time to make sure the pose is correct, and easily understood by the audience. A second idea was to exercise some restraint on the movement and timing: to take multiple frames with little movement, as stillness can be just as effective as motion. On the flip side of this, I also wanted to explore how to create a fast motion, considering making larger moves between frames to believably communicate a quick movement.

With this in mind, I hired out the Stop Motion Studio in my own time and developed on the task, producing two more attempts. In comparison, these were much more successful and interesting than my first test. Taking the time to develop upon the tasks set in the workshop has allowed me to produce stop motion outcomes of a far higher quality and ambition as it lifts the pressure of time off my shoulders. With my own schedule, I was able to really get lost in the work, and allow me to present a more ambitious attempt at character performance and begin to hint at a narrative beyond simply the action itself.

Next week, we will be exploring a more complex stop motion sequence: having a character walk on screen, and visibly change their expression and emotion. In preparation for this, I will begin recording my own live action reference to get a better understanding of the movements and posing and produce a few storyboard iterations of the sequence.

Animated Sketchbook This week, I put a major focus on other projects - taking the time to produce iterations and further develop on the other tasks. As a result, I didn’t really have time to make any significant progress or development on this project.

Digital 3D This week, I took it upon myself to develop upon the previous Flying Saucer task, downloading Maya to use at home and rebuilding the sequence from scratch, using a more planned-out approach. With a humorous direction (the sheep is too heavy for the UFO, which then crashes), I sketched out quick, loose ideas for the sequence. Alongside these preliminary sketches, I also explored Pixar’s approach to the task, Lifted, which also presents a light-hearted take on an alien abduction. With this, I knew I wanted to follow a comical direction that works to effectively subvert the audience’s expectations.

Overall, this represents a far more exciting and successful response to the task. Through iterative development and my own perseverance with Maya, I have been able to challenge myself to create an ‘engaging, successful’ CG animation that puts a new, comic spin on the farm animal abduction’ plot in this short sequence. Something I am going to put a focus on is iterative development on my practical exploration: this was the main point in the feedback of my previous unit, and it’s something I’m constantly considering moving forward. Here, iterations have allowed me to explore and further flesh out this simple CG sequence, and complete an animation (that, whilst simple in composition) demonstrates my new understanding of Maya as an animation and modelling program.

Additionally, we were also set a new task within Maya: taking the focus away from animation, were challenged to explore the modelling potential of the 3D software. Firstly, we were introduced to the Modelling workspace - as we explored the various tools to edit and change an existing shape. This provided us with a range of tools, allowing us to extrude, edit and bevel surfaces of shapes in order to create new, more exciting ones.

Initially, I struggled with this process: but after spending time trying to get to grips with the extrusion tool and asking for feedback, I was able to get a basic understanding of the modelling process and produced a pencil in response. It’s not exactly visually impressive or appealing, but I see the value in this task as a way to introduce the basic foundations of more complex 3D modelling.

The final task was a little more demanding: in the limited time remaining, we were to produce a 3D radio. After experiencing several technical difficulties with the program, I managed to create a basic box-radio following the steps described by our tutor. What I’m finding is the luxury of time with learning these processes: the sessions, whilst helpful, are ultimately too short and fast-paced for me to properly grasp an understanding of the Maya processes. I am somewhat struggling with the modelling side of things, however, I want to develop this understanding and take the opportunity to explore the digital learning world of Linkedin Learning, something our tutor suggested in the session.

In my own time, I managed to complete the radio and add some colour - adding life to the object that I couldn’t really see beforehand. I’m also interested in the potential of rendering this object and seeing how it could move too. Perhaps it squashes and stretches whilst listening to music? It’s a small motion, but I feel like it would be a good independent development of this session and a way for me to add an understanding of the basic principles to my Digital 3D work.

[dashiel-dash-parr]

"Oh my gosh, you're going to blow the coach completely out of his mind." A smirk peeked across Dash's lips, almost unable to hide the desire to be present at that moment. He raised his arms as Penny passed him the retouched soccer ball, thus far struggling not to use his super speed just yet. Penny had been the girl he could call his best friend, and proudly his partner in crime with whom he shared a fondness for causing trouble to Angelo. From the moment they had met, it was clear to Dash that the other was a girl ready to jump into action and cause some mischief at the slightest opportunity, and she might be one of the few people who rivaled Dash's audacity. He raised the ball to eye level, making them a little slanted at the glitter of the pink and white rhinestones, definitely a masterpiece that had taken Penny a long time and now it was his turn to close 'his part of the deal' .

As Penny continued to talk about how long it would take for the coach to realize the change, Dash couldn't help but laugh at the thought of his face when he saw the edited soccer ball, totally worth taking the time and risking a little the powers. "How long will it take him to figure it out? Hmm, let me think ... Maybe a few minutes, probably ten or so." He responded playfully, winking at her as he took a few steps back. "Okay, now I'm going to leave the surprise in the warehouse, so this is going to be in the blink of an eye, so try to appear natural as this goes fast and louder." Dash ends with a little pun that only they understand. "Get ready for the awesomeness, I'll be back in a few seconds, plus I bet five bucks it takes him ten minutes to figure it out." He laughed, disappearing for a few seconds to reappear as a blurry figure without the precious ball. "Okay, all set. Let's go with the others to see the show." Triumphant, he raised his hand in a high-five gesture. "Come on Penny, don't leave me hanging."

once penny proud decides she’s going to do something, she commits. wizville’s adored girl almighty, she’s always been a testament to what hard work and a vision can do. and today’s vision? helping dash mess with their football coach. starting college late had originally been a source of so much stress for her. she’d begun her journey when most kids her age were ending it, and she just wasn’t sure if she’d be able to find her place. but dash made the transition easier, never batting an eye at the only girl walking onto the football field. they became fast friends and what bonded them was strangely enough finding amusement in their coach’s mild annoyance. “i saw this really cute glitter polish in the nail salon window the other day,” penny begins, a frown already touching her face because until the football season is over she can’t get her nails done because it’d just be a waste of money. “so i made this in honor of them.” she holds out a football covered in tiny pink and white rhinestones. it was an effort that had taken her and teri way too many hours, but watching it glimmer and sparkle in the sunlight she knew it was worth it. “how long do you think it’ll take for him to realize we switched out his ball?” angelo suarez was a short tempered man, everyone knew that. and yet, penny and dash test their luck with him every few weeks. most of their pranks ride on dash’s super speed, just like this one will, and every time it’s so rewarding to place bets on how long it’ll take for angelo to realize what’s going on. @dashiel-dash-parr

[mizzprouds]

dashiel-dash-parr​:

"Oh my gosh, you're going to blow the coach completely out of his mind." A smirk peeked across Dash's lips, almost unable to hide the desire to be present at that moment. He raised his arms as Penny passed him the retouched soccer ball, thus far struggling not to use his super speed just yet. Penny had been the girl he could call his best friend, and proudly his partner in crime with whom he shared a fondness for causing trouble to Angelo. From the moment they had met, it was clear to Dash that the other was a girl ready to jump into action and cause some mischief at the slightest opportunity, and she might be one of the few people who rivaled Dash's audacity. He raised the ball to eye level, making them a little slanted at the glitter of the pink and white rhinestones, definitely a masterpiece that had taken Penny a long time and now it was his turn to close 'his part of the deal' .

As Penny continued to talk about how long it would take for the coach to realize the change, Dash couldn't help but laugh at the thought of his face when he saw the edited soccer ball, totally worth taking the time and risking a little the powers. "How long will it take him to figure it out? Hmm, let me think ... Maybe a few minutes, probably ten or so." He responded playfully, winking at her as he took a few steps back. "Okay, now I'm going to leave the surprise in the warehouse, so this is going to be in the blink of an eye, so try to appear natural as this goes fast and louder." Dash ends with a little pun that only they understand. "Get ready for the awesomeness, I'll be back in a few seconds, plus I bet five bucks it takes him ten minutes to figure it out." He laughed, disappearing for a few seconds to reappear as a blurry figure without the precious ball. "Okay, all set. Let's go with the others to see the show." Triumphant, he raised his hand in a high-five gesture. "Come on Penny, don't leave me hanging."

“isn’t it so cute?” she coos, smiling as dash admires her work. penny knows the ball might be a tad bit overboard, but that was the whole point! he’d been messing with the coach long before she got involved, it taking her a few months to piece together what exactly was happening. but once she had, instead of calling him out or exposing him penny had covered for him. and since then they’ve been together in this, so it means a lot to her that he approves of her contribution for this particular prank. “definitely ten or more.” penny agrees, nodding firmly because there’s no way it would take angelo longer than that. who wouldn’t notice a rhinestone studded football quickly? she steps back, giving dash a little salute as he prepares to speed off to put the ball in play. she’s more than used to seeing his super speed by now, so she doesn’t even bat an eye when the gust of wind blows her hair back as he leaves and comes back. the mechanics of his super speed has always perplexed her, but it’s cool as fuck and that’s good enough for her on most days. “I’ll take you on the bet, maybe it’ll only take five minutes.” penny explains when dash comes back, unable to stop herself from wanting to give their coach the benefit of the doubt. on a good day she’d win that easy, but lately angelo comes to practice more tired than usual and it seems like he’s not firing on all cylinders. something about a new roommate. which reminds her, she’d been meaning to ask riley about that! penny reaches up, giving dash a high five before they start walking towards the field. in the past the team would have pre-practice meetings in the locker room but the dean advised against that once penny joined the team, so now they hang on the bleachers while coach rambles on about whatever the fuck. “what you been up to though? how’s your family?” penny asks, taking the time for the walk to catch up on anything new with him.