#just needed this on my blog so i'm posting them

[sirfrogsworth]

I had no idea you're a professional photographer! I mostly follow your other blog for Corgis - if you posted your work there and I missed it, I apologize.

Your photography is AMAZING and thank you for sharing tips on light!

Bonus if you have time: when did you develop (haha!) interest for it and what's your favorite thing about this medium? ☆

Thank you. I have been trying to go back to my older work and edit things with my current skills and I have been posting that on occasion.

I also have an Instagram which is sort of like my current portfolio until I have the energy to create a proper website.

It's funny you mention corgis because Otis was the reason I got a proper camera. My followers helped me raise the money to get him and I felt like he belonged to everyone. So I wanted to make sure I took lots of photos of his shenanigans for people to enjoy. If they couldn't have a corgi of their own, I wanted them to live vicariously.

I never do anything halfway. I always go quite overboard. I filled my brain with everything I could possibly learn about photography so I could take the best possible photos of Otis.

In the process of doing that, I realized I loved the art form. So even though Otis isn't around anymore, I owe him for giving me this wonderful creative outlet.

I took a long hiatus from photography when my parents got sick and I had to take care of them. Even though I stopped taking photos, I would watch photography education to help me relax. And it felt a bit like that meme of the dude studying the blade. I was learning some very advanced stuff.

Once my parents both passed I found myself with a giant hole in my life. And photography called me once again. I was a bit rusty operating the camera for a day or two, but because I had continued my learning, it all came back pretty quick. And I realized I was orders of magnitude better at photography, lighting, and post processing than I used to be.

My first photoshoot after 7 years was of my aunt and uncle. I didn't have much in the way of lighting equipment (I sold it to help my family), so I bounced a little flash off one of those science fair trifold thingies.

These shots made me realize I definitely needed photography back in my life. I figured if I could do that with cardboard I found at Walmart, I would have great potential with proper equipment. So I'm in the process of building a new studio and getting some new gear so I can show off what I'm capable of now.

I ran into a little medical hiccup a few months ago which put everything on pause. While I'm recovering I'm not really able to take any photos. So I've decided to try and write some photography education and help others with their photographic journeys as best I can. And I am still continuing to learn and planning what I want to photograph when my health is in better shape.

I really want to do high quality animal portraiture. Not just cats and dogs. I want to find other exotic pets too. And I also want to do an art project where I help people take high quality photos of their parents. One of the things I was most grateful for after my folks died was the photos I took of them.

And also this one I took of my grandmother.

Having a really high quality photo of people you love is so important. And I don't think everyone realizes that. So I'm hoping I can help folks capture these important memories.

Oh, my favorite thing. I almost forgot. I would say it is the problem solving. Every photo is a new puzzle for me. Especially if I am working with artificial lighting and modifiers. I enjoy imagining a photo in my head and then going through the process, solving problems, and realizing what I imagined in real life. It's a great feeling.

This photo of my friend Ryan comes to mind. I just had this vision of someone reading in the middle of a forest. And so we dragged lights to my neighbors yard and I taped a flash inside the lampshade.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Let's Spread Some Love, Y'all

Y'all, I've been trying to type this post out all day with something eloquent and well-spoken about this but I really have nothing better to say than it sucks.

It sucks that for a fandom who is here on this hellsite to celebrate a Latino refugee who is also beloved by everyone he meets for being a human ray of sunshine and kindness, that there are people on the world wide web of Tumblr dot gov that have no problem spreading deliberately hateful, racist content, whether it be directly targeted at BIPOC writers, or indirectly from the inability to look outside of yourself and have an ounce of empathy or understanding towards other diverse perspectives.

And who am I to even be complaining, because I'm about as white as they come, and I'm seeing this from outsiders pov!!! It shouldn't have to effect you directly for you to care about treating people with basic respect and dignity!!! It costs ZERO dollars for you to try and educate yourself, to learn from past mistakes, to make space to listen to what BIPOC have to say about their incredibly valid experiences (both online and in real fucking life!!!) It costs nothing to be kind!!! Or understanding!!! Or to be compassionate and hold yourself accountable when people tell you that something directly upsets them!!!!

And again, these are just my two cents, because I have plenty to do in the process of learning to be better and will continue to do so, and I'm glad to use this space to share my thoughts, please take the time to hear what people directly impacted by this have to say- their voices are the ones all of y'all here need to be taking into account. Please just know that if you are a BIPOC, queer, disabled, neurodivergent, an immigrant, when I say "Y'all" I really do mean ALL of y'all, I hear you, and will do my best to do my part in making this god forsaken corner of the internet a place we can all scream about That Man™️ in peace.

That being said, I have been wanting for a long time to compile a list of recs in general, so I would love to put together a rec list of your favorite BIPOC authors and fics to share, spread the love, and magnify the talent of creators who shouldn't be overlooked!!!

Either DM or inbox me authors, specific fics with POC characters/inserts, any moodboard or art, honestly anything that you want to share, please share it!!! Fluff, smut, angsty, long, short, any character, whatever!! (AND PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, SELF REC YOURSELF, DO NOT BE SCARED TO, Y'ALL ARE WAY TOO TALENTED NOT TO BE). If you are rec'd by someone else and don't feel comfortable being on the list for whatever reason, please let me know!!

Fic recs will be open until Friday, February 28th, and then after that, I'll post the full list and share so we can celebrate some of the incredible talent here!!! 🥰💕

And remember kids, just like Pedro said:

and if any of you feel differently, eat sand and get tf off my blog!!!! 🤠

[haeerizm]

SMITTEN !

LIMITED TIME ONLY BOOK A TICKET (SEND AN ASK) EARLY AND GET YOUR GIFTS BY THIS WEEKEND 💋!

hehehe as i said my event is here!! tbh i was wondering what to do for it, but then i remembered that i used to make moodboards and pngs on my old account so why not make them here as well 😼 intro post

RULES !

mutuals get unlimited tickets, non mutuals get 5. please be aware im a student and i dont have unlimited time so if i dont get to your ask straight away it doesnt mean im not gonna do it, it just means i need more time or im busy !! id rather people go off anon while sending requests but either way is still welcome <3

event closes at the end of march!!

TICKETS !

“mon amour, you know you free my soul”

❥・ ill list 5 things i like about you or/and your blog

“how could i not rely on you, peach eyes?”

❥・ ill make you a moodboard based on your aura/vibes

“and I'm drawin' pictures next to you…”

❥・ ill make you a png set also based on your aura/vibes

“i dont need anything, i just want you.”

❥・ ill make you a pinterest board based on your aura/vibes

“i pray they stay the same, always.”

❥・ ill tell you my first impression of you

“watch this be the wrong thing, classic,”

❥・ ill assign you a kpop idol you remind me of (and why)

“ill get by with you on my side,”

❥・ ill assign you a fictional character you remind me of (and why)

“if you want to, only if you want to,”

❥・ ill make you a mini playlist

LAYOUT !

send one of the song lyrics into my inbox with a small message (optional) and ill fufill your request!! eg.

‘hii id like “mon amour, you know you free my soul.” thank you!’

and ill make a cutesy list of 5 things i like abt u!!

tagging some moots : @thisfeelslike-iykyk @auntiejohn @urmumsfan @daystarpoet @vv4mpteeth @viqwxcs @lcuyscs @loveofcherry @loveeletterlesbian @iluvgogurt445 @eloisesecret @theodditylacey @prettiestgirlinthemorgu3 @goldennhr @junefl0wers @doegirldaydreamer @daystarpoet @xoxochb @catchmeonyourceiling @toooster @shattered-glass-roses @inmyheaddd @tiranniesu @catacombspooks @sophiaurora @sarastellasari @cattleqtie @litrlymine777 @xoxochb @im-on-crack-send-help @rainenraspberries @aangelicano @ur21stbday @lcuyscs @laufeysvalentine @venuswiiine @xoxotifia @cupidsremedy

HOPE YOU ENJOY !

[fountainpenguin]

Hey! I'm looking for some 'fic recs!

One of my goals for 2025 is to comment more on people's 'fics, especially ones with few comments.

I'd like to make a proper post later that's more specific about what I enjoy, for people who are hesitant to throw me "just anything," but for now, consider this a generic post for some fic recs (Replies, reblogs, Ask box). Self-promotion welcome!

- I'm tired of having empty fandom inbox sometimes! Share me some ongoing multi-chapters you like; something I can sink my teeth into for the long play :) Complete longfics welcome also - Also, send me short works with an emotional punch! Love to see some nice endings~ - I love works that focus on drama, angst, grief, or character studies. Fluff acceptable! Shippy stuff not priority atm, but I'm happy to make an exception for things that are rec'd by someone who really liked them (I'll read just about anything if it has a style or tropes I like) - Share pieces with fun worldbuilding you like, or interesting character takes! Bonus points for "I want to slap this character. They're annoying and it was done so well. Suffer with me." - Looking for some Fairly OddParents 'fics (Especially the 2001 series, but I'll accept A New Wish also). Preferably ones where there's still a magical world (i.e. no turning the Fairies into humans). Heavy preference for works that are just FOP (AKA no Nicktoons Unite crossovers). - WordGirl recs are cool too; I've been craving some goofball heroes and villains in my life again... I need to finish my one-shots :'D - Would love to see Hermitcraft or Life Series 'fics as well. I'm most familiar with Hermits who are Lifers, but always happy to learn more about the others. I regularly read fandom-blind, so I don't mind lacking context. -- I'm familiar with Hermitcraft seasons 6 through 10. -- tbh I keep up with my rarepairs & fave side duos really well, but it's easy to get overwhelmed by the bigger pairs or friend groups even if I enjoy them, so... Lmk what stands out to you in a big sea of choice! I like all the Lifers and I'm happy to check out anything. -- I love Team Rancher, but I literally never search for or write 'fics about them and I don't know why. I guess I felt so satisfied by the canon that I... never bothered to dig for more :'D Please feel free to rec me some Ranchers stuff. I've read nothing. - I want to start watching Empires SMP sometime soon. Would love some Empires 'fic recs!

- This is an intentionally generic, open-ended rec request post -

Part of the fun in fanfics for me is looking at all the options and narrowing them down myself by the mood of the day, so I don't mind getting rec'd stuff that isn't my go-to style. Just looking to mix up my usual search methods with some pieces I might have overlooked, and it felt fun to ask on a busy Saturday.

I don't have Anon on my Ask box rn, but you can include a "Don't post please" message if you don't want me to share it with the blog.

Thanks for sharing your fun finds with me!

[mechazushi]

OH GOD, I FORGOT TO POST THIS AFTER I GOT OUT OF MY TIME CRUNCH!

I FOUND COMPS OF KAFKA IN FORTNIGHT DOING THE EMOTES!

⬆Alright, fair warning, this is the longest one. Most of these can be chalked up to "Baby Girl, I know DAMN well your joints don't move like that anymore." The Pele Air Punch one is technically canon. I have a LOT of thoughts on these, but please let me know what ya'lls favorite is when you get a chance.

⬆So this is all the ones that were made specifically for the characters they were designed for, but can be applied to Kafka. I have three pointers.

Go Cat Go NEEDS TO BURN IN HELL!! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE! I HOPE ANYONE THAT USES IT ON KAFKA GETS ISEKIED TO THEIR MOST HATED GENRE!

The people that mapped Swole Cat onto Kafka are COWARDS. Let that man flex his pecks

That Unicorn one is fucking OBNOXIOUS.

⬆And I'm throwing in this one just because. Shmove it White Boi, Shmove it.

@iceclew @narumi-gimmick-blog @kafkahibinomybeloved @sonicasura @genxnarumi @sanjipussyindulgence @crestfallenwanderlust @margoteve @falling-star-cygnus

I am tagging ALL of you to make sure ya'll don't miss this. Sorry for spamming the Youtube videos lately, just thought you'd like to see them.

[httyd-art-requests]

HELLOO!!! I just stumbled upon your blog and I admit that I already love it. While looking at some fanart, a question (or curiosity, depending on how you put it) came to me: how do you draw dragons? Or, more precisely, do you have a method for figuring out the shapes and sketching the different species? AND do what program and brushes do you use (especially for sketching)?

I'm sorry that's a lot, but I'd like to get familiar with drawing dragons, I hope you can answer<33

-☄️

Hello, welcome to the blog!! :D

I can definitely answer your questions!

I recently bought a new tablet with a pen, which is part of the reason I haven't posted in a while. I'm a little overwhelmed and hesitant to start drawing dragons for the blog again, so I've been focusing on personal art to get comfortable with the new equipment. But I can absolutely tell you how I used to draw on my previous tablet!

It didn't have a pen or any sort of pen pressure, so I used IbisPaintX and its basic opaque brushes for both sketching and coloring. I used the same brushes for sketching, lining AND coloring, I just changed the opacity as needed. I never used any of my brushes on 100% opacity for the lineart, I just layered my lines to give them some texture. I did also make a custom fuzzy textured brush by messing with settings, but I didn't really use that for the dragon posts as far as I remember (except for the Liberated Duskcutter drawing)

As for drawing dragons specifically, I use a LOT and I mean a LOT of references for every drawing, especially for species I haven't drawn until that point. In my experience, tracing helps you get familiar with the dragon's shapes and helps to build muscle memory on the long term. Part of my process is to find good reference images, break them down into shapes by drawing on top of them, and then use those shapes sort of like building blocks to figure out a new pose that I can then refine.

The shape of the head is always the most difficult for me to get right, so I tend to focus on it even when the rest of the body might look a little wonky (don't look too closely at the toes and fingers)

I'm not very good at explaining my process, but I love answering questions, so feel free to ask for clarification as needed. I do hope this helped though! I wish you luck on your dragon drawing journey <3

[bettystonewell]

Well now, that's some arrangement! we go from being in a dry spell to all this sex in a matter of days - I want to slap them silly, but at least they're getting the benefits out of having this and not being friends with the benefits haha - idiots

The blanket had slipped low on his hips, and beneath it, you caught the telltale shape of his arousal, hard and curving upward beneath the fabric.

You're talking to me about images and you give me that.

"Stay put, Winchester," you warned playfully.

Why do we need this stupid arrangement again? Even Ellen is picking up on stuff, and we know the guys are giving Dean shit about it from chapter one and his dream.

Oh, right. Because you're a goddamn idiot

You sure are Dean!

Memories stirred-hot summer days spent weaving through rusted-out shells of old cars, hands stained with grease as Bobby taught you the difference between a carburettor and an alternator. At first, it had been just you, running wild with an overactive imagination.

I really like the way you described the salvage yard and integrated the reader into the family. l've read a few fics where reader is brought in this way, but you're bringing it in fresh with how you Introduce us to Bobby and co. We know them, but we don’t. It just flows well. It's not forced nor underdeveloped yk? - (it's Saturday afternoon here and I'm running on four hours sleep if I'm lucky, but I hope l'm getting my msg out)

Okay, maybe this wasn't quite as sexy as you had planned.

I also love little bits of realism like this. It's not all perfect. As Dean says, shower sex is complicated, and even though nothing had happened here just yet, I wonder if that's partly what he means haha.

That snippet for next chapter has me very intrigued. Christmas parties are definitely date zones, but I wonder if he's gone to a Christmas party with her before? 🤔

Also apologies. You might’ve gotten a weird reblog from me - I’m thinking about doing a side blog for bookmarks/tbr - kind of like how others have done - but I’m not sure if I want to use it yet. Anywho accidentally posted from it, and it’s not what I wanted to do - so two notifs from me 🙃

The Arrangement - Part Three

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You and Dean come to an arrangement to navigate what is happening between you. However, is it just a sure fire way to complicate things even more?

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT!(18+ONLY!!!) like double smut 😅, fluff, the usual idiots in denial, mentions of non-major character death.

AN: Here we are with chapter 3, we finally meet the readers family and delve a little more into her background, as well as her situation with Dean. I hope you all enjoy 💕

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

You woke with a soft sigh, the morning light flittering in through the gap in your curtain, almost blinding you as you peeped an eye open. You rolled over onto your other side and found Dean still sleeping soundly. 

Your stomach twisted.

For some reason, seeing him still here, sprawled out in your bed like he belonged there, sent something unwanted crawling beneath your skin.

It wasn’t supposed to feel different.

It wasn’t different.

After your initial coupling the night before, where the arrangement was made—a deal in which you both could take advantage of whilst adhering to the other’s wants—it had been simple. Strictly sex without the strings. Some would call it a friends with benefits situation, but you found that term a little tasteless, too on the nose.

You’d come up with some rules, boundaries if you will, to ensure things didn’t become complicated. (Not that that ship hadn’t already sailed, but whatever.)

Either of you could call it off whenever you wanted. No hard feelings.

No sleepovers (though last night was an exception).

And most importantly, no matter what, you wouldn’t let this ruin your friendship.

(Though, if you were being honest, that ship might’ve already sailed too.)

But then, somewhere between setting the terms and conditions, one thing had led to another, and before you knew it, you’d been tangled up in him all over again.

There was just something about Dean that made you reckless, made you lose yourself completely. By the time you finally passed out, thoroughly spent, it had been well into the early hours of the morning, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air.

And now, Dean was still here. Right beside you, fast asleep, snoring softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing over him before you could stop yourself.

You had never really had the chance to admire him like this. Sure, you always knew Dean was attractive—it was an objective fact, really—but now, after having him in every way imaginable, it was something else entirely.

The sharp angles of his face, softened by sleep. The light freckles dusting across his nose. The way his hair stuck up in messy tufts, still showing evidence of your fingers tangling in it hours ago.

You shouldn’t be looking at him like this.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this.

You tore your gaze away, exhaling slowly.

This was fine. It was fine.

So what if something in your chest ached? So what if, for one stupid second, you wished this could be more?

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be. And you knew that.

Dean was still free to date, to go out and find the girl of his dreams. And you?

You’d just be the best friend he screwed a couple of times and nothing more.

That’s what you agreed to.

That’s what you wanted.

Right?

As if on cue, a sign to quell your spiralling thoughts, Dean shifted slightly, his breathing hitching as he rolled onto his back, and your eyes drifted down before you could stop yourself.

The blanket had slipped low on his hips, and beneath it, you caught the telltale shape of his arousal, hard and curving upward beneath the fabric.

Instinctively, your thighs pressed together, and then an idea formed. A bold, shameless, possibly reckless idea.

But the whole point of this arrangement was to indulge in each other's needs, wasn’t it?

Slowly, carefully, you slipped beneath the covers, inching closer until you settled between his spread thighs. The warmth of his skin met your lips as you brushed a kiss along his hip bone.

Dean stirred with a low groan, but it wasn’t until you wrapped your fingers around him - admiring the warm, velvety weight of him before you took him into your mouth - that he truly woke up.

"Shit—" His voice was hoarse, thick with sleep as his hips jerked up. One of his hands tangled into your hair, his fingers flexing, holding rather than pushing. "You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?"

You hummed around him in response, sending a shudder through his body as your mouth slid up and down his length, suckling and licking along his shaft. His grip in your hair tightened, and his abs flexed beneath your fingertips. But you kept going, taking your time, savouring every reaction he gave you. 

Dean never stood a chance.

With a strangled groan, he came, his muscles going taut as you eagerly swallowed everything he gave, before he finally slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving. You pressed a final, teasing kiss to his hip before emerging from beneath the covers with a smirk.

Dean ran a hand down his face, chuckling breathlessly. "Damn. I think I could get used to this.”

You chuckled as you went to move away, when Dean’s hand caught your arm. You paused and met his dark gaze. “Where d’ya think your goin’?” 

You arched an amused brow at his tone. “To shower?” 

Dean shook his head, and before you could react, he was dragging you up his body, shifting you until you were kneeling either side of his head.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding as realisation settled in.

His pupils were blown wide as he looked at you—at the most intimate part of you, on full display for him.

His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, palms firm as he cupped your ass, squeezing appreciatively.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with want. “Look at you.”

Before you could form a response, he leaned up, dragging his tongue in a slow, broad stripe between your folds.

Your head fell back with a sharp gasp, fingers grasping for the headboard as he did it again—this time, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you.

“You can lower yourself, sweetheart,” Dean murmured against your skin, his grip tightening as he tugged you down further.

You hesitated, the vulnerability of the position making you self-conscious. But Dean wasn’t having it. He tugged you the rest of the way, making you gasp as you fully settled over his mouth.

Then he went to work.

Dean ate you like a man starved, his grip firm, his tongue relentless. Your hips rocked on instinct, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as the pleasure built, as he guided you exactly where he wanted you.

He groaned beneath you, the sound vibrating against your core, sending another sharp pulse of pleasure through your body.

You barely had time to think—only to feel, only to chase the high he was so determined to give you.

Your thighs trembled around his head, your grip on the headboard tightening as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. Dean's tongue worked you over with practiced precision, flicking and circling before dragging slow, deliberate strokes through your folds. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, guiding you into a slow grind against his mouth.

The pleasure was dizzying, a fire licking up your spine, consuming every inch of you. Your breaths turned to gasps, then whimpers, then broken cries as the pressure built, threatening to snap.

“D-Dean—” His name came out in a desperate whine, your body caught between the need to get closer and the overwhelming intensity of his touch. He groaned in response, the vibrations shooting straight through you. And then, with one last flick of his tongue over your clit, the coil inside you shattered.

Your whole body tensed before a violent shudder rocked through you, your vision going white as the pleasure exploded, wave after wave crashing over you. Your hips bucked against his mouth as he held you there, drawing out every last aftershock, every last ounce of pleasure he could wring from you.

Only when you whined in overstimulation did he finally ease up, pressing one last slow, lazy kiss to your swollen, pulsing centre before releasing his grip on your hips. You slumped forward, chest heaving, bracing yourself against the headboard as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean chuckled beneath you, his hands smoothing up and down your thighs, giving them a playful squeeze. “Now that,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction, “is one hell of a way to wake up.”

You huffed out a laugh, your body still buzzing in the aftermath as you carefully climbed off him, rolling onto your side beside him. “No kidding,” you murmured, still breathless. “And here I was, thinking I’d be the one in charge this morning.”

Dean turned his head to look at you, a smug grin on his lips, his face still glistening with the evidence of what he’d just done. “What can I say? You inspired me.”

You smacked his chest lightly, making him chuckle. “Well, I think we just broke, like, half of our rules before we even got out of bed.”

Dean stretched, arms resting behind his head, utterly unbothered. “Eh. Rules were made to be bent a little.”

You gave him a look. “Bent?”

He smirked. “Okay, maybe broken.”

You shook your head with a laugh, finally forcing yourself to sit up. “Alright, I need a shower. A very long, very cold shower.”

Dean hummed, reaching over to give your hip a squeeze. “Or… I could join you, and we could keep breaking rules.”

You groaned, throwing a pillow at his face. “Dean.”

He just laughed, catching it with ease. “What? Just putting it out there.”

Shaking your head, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, feeling his gaze trailing over you as you walked toward the bathroom. You paused in the doorway, glancing back at him with an arched brow.

“Stay put, Winchester,” you warned playfully.

Dean held his hands up in surrender, that damn smirk still on his face. “No promises, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. And even as the water rushed over your skin, washing away the evidence of the morning’s activities, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were in way over your head.

By the time you had reappeared, showered and dressed for the day, Dean was - thankfully - fully clothed and plating up some eggs and toast in the kitchen. 

He gave you a lazy smile when he spotted you, and placed one of the plates down in front of you when you took a seat at the kitchen island. 

“Thanks.” You told him gratefully. After the past twenty-four hours, having arguably the most sex you’d had in almost a year, you’d definitely worked up an appetite. Dean took a seat next to you and you both dug in. 

Breakfast passed by surprisingly smoothly. If you were being honest, you’d expected at least a little awkwardness now that you’d both left the bedroom and returned to some semblance of normalcy. But there was none. The easy banter and casual conversation flowed just as it always had, and what had transpired only 30 minutes ago was never brought up. 

Not that it needed to, this was how you’d hoped for it to be. Maybe you underestimated yours and Dean’s ability to be actual grown ups about this. 

“So, I’m driving down to pick up Sam tomorrow.” Dean told you as he gathered your plates and took them to the sink to wash. 

“Drive? Is he not flying in next week?” You asked. Christmas wasn’t until the weekend and Sam was all the way out in Stanford. You assumed flying was the only logical, quicker way of getting home. 

Dean turned on the faucet, rinsing off a plate. “He tried, but the earliest flight he could get was the twenty-seventh.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you got up to help dry and put things away. “Does the kid not know how to pre-book a flight or something?”

Dean chuckled, hands deep in suds. “You’d think with all those brains to get into a school like Stanford, he’d be smarter.”

“Maybe he’s got girl brain.” You teased. “Is he still seeing that Jess?” Sam had mentioned a girl he’d started seeing on his last venture home, he’d seemed pretty smitten then. 

Dean nodded, handing you the last dish. “Yeah, I’m picking her up too.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow. That serious, huh? Guess it’s the real deal if he’s subjecting her to us lot.”

“Hey, speak for yourself. I’m a delight.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’re the worst of us all.” You said as you picked up your steaming cup of coffee.

Dean gaped at you in mock offence. “The hell I am!”

You hid a chuckle behind your coffee cup as Dean poured himself another. The playful bickering continued, and despite how nothing about this situation was normal, it somehow felt like it was.

“Well, with you gone for the next day or so, that gives me time to wrap gifts. And yes, that includes the ones you got for your family,” you cut in before he could even ask.

“You’re the best,” he grinned, looking way too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes. Wrapping Dean’s gifts had become an annual chore—one you’d taken on after watching everyone struggle through layers of newspaper and duct tape one too many times. Now, that particular misfortune was yours alone.

"Alright, I should get going. The old man’s been hounding me long enough," you huffed, slipping on your boots and grabbing your winter jacket from the wall rack.

Because of the lead up to Christmas, everything had been extra crazy at work. Dick Roman, your boss, was very anal about things, your office was probably about the only one still open the week leading up to the holiday’s. 

So, for that fact, you hadn’t had much time to visit Bobby lately. And with Christmas bound to be pure chaos—thanks to both your family and Dean’s—you knew today was your best shot at a real catch-up before the holiday madness set in.

“Right, yeah” Dean agreed and looked as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. 

“You got any plans?” You enquired, noticing his hesitancy and he shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll probably just work on the car, maybe pack a bag. Long drive tomorrow.” He hummed and you nodded. 

“Sounds depressing.” You deadpanned and Dean shot you a look. 

“Alright, Singer. Get outta here.” He shooed you out the door hearing your laughter as he closed it behind you. 

The moderate drive to your family home was a one loaded with thoughts of a certain green eyed man. You knew you were screwed, setting yourself up for heartbreak. However well you and Dean were handling things now, you believed it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. You were a pessimist, after all. 

But did that mean you’d stop it before it got to that point?

Not a chance.

Not when you’d just had four mind-blowing orgasms in the span of a few hours. Not when Dean had ruined every other man for you. Because even if this was just an arrangement, how the hell were you ever supposed to let anyone else warm your bed after him?

You’d well and truly screwed yourself. And you had no one to blame but you.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Dean wasn’t faring much better.

Why the hell did you agree to this again?

Oh, right. Because you’re a goddamn idiot.

Dean sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he leaned against the counter. He’d let his downstairs brain do the thinking instead of the one that actually mattered. And now? Now, he was in deep shit.

Because, yeah, this whole arrangement was supposed to be no strings, just fun. But how was that possible now he actually got to have you. Before he learned just how amazing being with you was— how it was better than he ever could’ve imagined. 

Dammit. 

He had no one to blame but himself. 

The familiar crunch of gravel under your tires sent a wave of nostalgia rolling over you as you pulled up to your childhood home. A modest, two-story farmhouse, nestled a little out of the way, but still standing strong despite the years. Out back, your dad’s pride and joy stretched across the property—the scrap yard, a graveyard of metal and machinery that had once been your playground.

Memories stirred—hot summer days spent weaving through rusted-out shells of old cars, hands stained with grease as Bobby taught you the difference between a carburettor and an alternator. At first, it had been just you, running wild with an overactive imagination. 

Then Jo came along, and suddenly, you had a partner in crime. And when Dean joined in, the three of you were unstoppable, turning the yard into your own personal jungle gym, crafting make-believe adventures where you were pirates, outlaws, or world-class race car drivers.

But for all the warmth those memories carried, a familiar pang of sadness settled in your chest as your eyes drifted to the front porch. You had only spent a small part of your life here with your mother before she got sick. She had died when you were five—too young to remember much, but what you did recall was vivid. She was beautiful. She was warm. She loved you. That much, you knew for certain.

Your father had spent the better part of a decade alone after she passed, never so much as looking at another woman. But then Ellen came along—not as a whirlwind romance, but as something steady and unshakable. She had been your distant neighbour for years, and when he told you they were together, it hadn’t been a shock. It had made sense. The kind of deep, unspoken sense that settled into your bones.

Ellen had filled a space in your life neither you nor your father had realised needed filling. She didn’t try to replace your mother, but she became something else entirely—something just as important. And with her came Jo. Not a sister by blood, but one in every way that mattered. You had both lost a parent, and in return, gained a new one through your father and Ellen’s love for each other. It was one of the few things in your life you were endlessly grateful for.

You barely had a second to step out of your car before Bobby’s voice grumbled through the crisp mid-afternoon air.

“Took you long enough to show up,” he muttered, wiping his hands on an old rag as he straightened up from under the hood of a car - that had clearly seen better days.

You smirked, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Traffic,” you deadpanned. “And also, I like to make an entrance.”

Bobby huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. He had always appreciated your sharp tongue—probably because you’d inherited it from him. But beneath that tough exterior, you had your mother’s heart—open, vulnerable, and full of a quiet kind of strength that even Bobby, for all his gruffness, had always recognised.

“C’mere,” he grumbled, his voice as gruff as ever, but his eyes warm. You barely had time to react before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into one of his signature bear hugs. You melted into it, breathing in the familiar scent of motor oil and worn leather.

“Ellen’s put on a lasagna since she heard you were stopping by,” he said as he pulled back with a knowing smile.

You chuckled. “That woman spoils me.”

Bobby scoffed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Hey.” You chuckled, nudging him in the side as he guided you into the house with an arm around you.

The second you stepped through the door, the rich aroma of Ellen’s home-cooked meal wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Your stomach grumbled in response, and mouth watered.

“Man, that smells good,” you hummed.

Ellen turned at the sound of your voice, her face lighting up as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and made her way over.

“How you doin’, darlin’?” she asked, pulling you into a tight embrace before stepping back to cup your face. She gave you a once-over, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lookin’ a little thin. You eatin’ alright?”

You rolled your eyes, waving her off. “Yes, woman.”

She arched a brow, smirking. “Alright, alright. Just after the other night, I wanted to make sure you’re in good spirits, is all.”

Your stomach twisted slightly. She was, of course, referring to the night you had stormed into the Roadhouse after your disaster of a date with Gary, drowning your frustration in whiskey shots with Jo until the night spiralled completely out of control. 

The night you kissed Dean.

It was only two days ago, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed, so much had happened since, and your mind was still trying to make sense of it all.

Bobby cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Yeah, I heard about that,” he muttered, disapproval evident in his tone, though it wasn’t directed at you. “Glad to hear you gave that jackass what was comin’ to him.”

You smirked. “He shouldn’t have worn white.”

That earned you a chuckle, and as the mid-afternoon bled into the evening, conversation flowed naturally. The usual check-ins—how work was going, plans for Christmas, updates on Jo’s training at the academy. She was top of her class, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Then, they asked about Dean.

You stiffened for just a second—so quick that anyone else might have missed it. But not Ellen.

You kept your answers short, careful. You brought up how the Winchester brothers had already been pestering about Ellen’s famous stuffing, which seemed to distract her enough. 

Ellen shook her head with a small, fond smile, despite the way she tried to maintain her hard exterior. “Those boys sure know how to butter me up,” she muttered, shaking her head.

By the time Jo came barreling through the front door, you were well past starving, but the sight of her wide grin made you forget about food for a moment.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show their face,” she teased, dropping into the chair beside you with an easy familiarity.

“You act like it’s been years.”

“Felt like it,” she shot back with a dramatic sigh, earning a scoff from you.

“I saw you two days ago.”

“Yeah, and I don’t remember it,” she admitted with a chuckle. The two of you had always been terrible influences on each other whenever alcohol was involved.

You laughed, shaking your head, then Jo straightened up, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Anyway, now that you’re here, I’ve got some prime gossip.”

With an exaggerated flourish, she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder like she was about to spill the juiciest secret in the world.

You arched a brow, smirking. “Oh?”

Jo didn’t waste a second before launching into a dramatic retelling of her ongoing rivalry with some guy named Cole. The way she spoke about him—full of exasperation, plenty of complaints, but with just a little too much intensity—made it obvious. She either hated him with every fibre of her being, or she was in complete denial about the fact that she might actually like the guy.

“Let me guess,” you interjected, smirking. “Classic ‘annoy the girl because you secretly like her’ situation?”

Jo scoffed. “What? No! He’s an ass.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He is! He’s—he’s cocky, and thinks he’s the best at everything, and—”

“And you like him,” you finished smugly.

Her mouth snapped shut, cheeks tinting the slightest bit pink.

Ellen chuckled. “I’d say she’s onto somethin’, kid.”

Jo groaned, dropping her forehead against the table as Bobby snorted into his beer.

The house hummed with warmth and familiarity, a stark contrast to the mess in your head. For a moment, just a moment, you let yourself breathe—pushing aside the tangled thoughts of Dean, of what had happened, of what it might mean.

You would deal with that later.

For now, you were home.

It was nearing 7 p.m. when you finally said your goodbyes, somehow getting roped into making a dessert for Christmas. You knew Mary was already bringing her famous apple pie, but Ellen had scolded you at your whining, reminding you that it was only right to have more than one.

The drive home wasn’t long, but with every passing mile, anticipation curled tight in your chest. It was a new experience, in some ways, it excited you—the not knowing, the spontaneity of it all. But at the same time, it killed you, leaving you on edge.

When you stepped inside the apartment, Dean was nowhere to be found—at least, not at first. You set your bag down and were about to call out for him when the faint sound of running water caught your attention.

The shower.

And just like that, an impulsive thought struck you again—one you didn’t bother fighting. Maybe you just had a ridiculously high sex drive all of a sudden. Or maybe it was just Dean, but you found yourself standing before the closed bathroom door, teeth sinking into your lip as you hesitated. 

Maybe it was too much. Too soon. But there wasn’t exactly a rule in place limiting to how many times you could fuck.

So, without another thought, you quietly slipped inside.

Steam curled in the air, thick and warm, and through the frosted glass, you could make out Dean’s silhouette. His broad, muscled frame, the way water cascaded down his skin—it had your body heating with need in an instant.

He was humming to himself, the tune unmistakably Metallica, as you made quick work of your clothes, letting them pool at your feet until you were completely bare.

Slowly, you padded across the floor, stopping just outside the shower door. With one last exhale of doubt, you pulled it open and stepped inside.

Dean startled, his head whipping toward you, eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and surprise.

“What the—”

Before he could finish, his expression twisted in pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shit.” He hissed, rubbing furiously at them as soap trickled down into his lashes.

Biting back a laugh, you reached for his arm and guided him under the spray, watching as the water rinsed the suds away. Okay, maybe this wasn’t quite as sexy as you had planned.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he turned to you, first in disbelief—then in something far more dangerous. His gaze darkened, sweeping over you from head to toe, and fuck. He could never get used to this. To you.

Perfect.

“Well, this is somethin’,” he smirked with a hint of uncertainty, though his eyes didn’t refrain form dragging over every inch of your bare skin, in a way that made you shiver.

“I needed a shower,” you shrugged, trying for innocence, but the way you bit your lip and the heat in your gaze said otherwise.

“Is that right?” Dean hummed, stepping closer, his body crowding yours in the already confined space. Your breath hitched, your eyes flickering from his to his lips, down his chest, and lower to where he was already hardening for you.

Your pussy clenched at the sight, the memory of how good he felt inside you hitting like a lightning strike.

“Just trying to save water,” you added, voice breathless.

“Yeah, smart thinkin’,” Dean murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper. Darker. His fingers brushed along your waist, slow and teasing, before you couldn’t take it anymore.

You crashed together, mouths colliding in a searing, desperate kiss that was all heat and hunger, lips clashing, tongues tangling, breaths turning ragged as the steam curled around you both. 

The scent of soap and Dean's skin filled your senses, warm water cascading down his broad shoulders, sliding between your bodies, making everything slicker—hotter.

Dean’s hands roamed, calloused fingers gliding over wet skin, gripping your hips, tracing the curve of your spine before gripping your ass, pressing you closer until you could feel the hard, throbbing heat of him against your stomach. The contrast of his rough hands against the smooth slide of your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

The shower’s spray pelted against your shoulders, rivulets of water trailing between your breasts, down your stomach, before pooling between your thighs—where you already ached for him.

Dean groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening. “You’re fucking dangerous, you know that?” His voice was low, wrecked, barely a breath against your lips.

You smirked, pressing yourself even closer, deliberately dragging yourself along the rigid length of him, slick heat meeting hardened steel. Dean let out a low growl, hands tightening on your hips, fingertips digging into your damp skin.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he rasped, but there was no warning in his tone—only pure, molten desire.

"Then burn me," you murmured back, your lips grazing his jaw as your nails raked down his back.

Dean inhaled sharply, his resolve snapping like a thread. His hands slid down, one gripping the swell of your ass, the other venturing lower, teasing through your wet folds. The moment he found your clit, you gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

"Already so fucking wet," he groaned, slipping a finger inside you, slow, testing. Your walls fluttered around him, greedy, eager for more.

Your breath hitched, head falling back against the shower wall as he added another finger, stretching you, thrusting them in and out in a steady rhythm, curling just right.

"Dean," you whimpered, clinging to him, your hips moving of their own accord, chasing the friction, the heat.

Dean watched you like a man mesmerised, his green eyes dark, hooded with lust as he pumped his fingers deeper, faster, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit. "That's it," he coaxed, voice rough, filled with awe. "Let me see you come."

The fire inside you built to an unbearable peak, and then it snapped. A sharp cry tore from your lips as you came around his fingers, body trembling against the tile, your walls pulsing around the thick intrusion. Dean groaned at the sight, watching every shudder, every twitch, as if committing the moment to memory.

He eased you through it, dragging out every wave of pleasure until you were panting against him, boneless. Then, slowly, he pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.

"Fuck," you breathed, still reeling, still burning.

Dean smirked. "Tastes even better straight from the source."

That snapped something in you. With renewed hunger, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his, your hand slipping between you to wrap around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, bracing a hand against the wall as you stroked him, firm and slow, feeling the way he twitched, the way his breath stuttered.

But before you could take things further, Dean growled, gripping your wrist and pulling your hand away.

"Sweetheart," he warned, voice strained, his restraint hanging by a thread.

You pouted playfully. "What? Just trying to return the favour."

Dean huffed a breath, shaking his head with a smirk before gripping your thighs and lifting you in one smooth motion. You gasped as your back hit the cool tile, the contrast between it and his heat making you shiver. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and as he adjusted his hold, his cock brushing against your bare pussy, sliding through your slick folds.

Dean froze, sucking in a sharp breath. "Shit," he muttered, realisation dawning in his heated gaze. "Condom—"

"I'm on the pill," you panted, barely able to think past the need consuming you. "And I'm clean."

Dean met your eyes, searching, his chest rising and falling against yours. "Yeah?"

You nodded, desperate. "Yeah."

Dean exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Me too. Clean, I mean.” With that, he adjusted his grip, angling his hips, and slowly, deliberately, pushed inside.

A ragged moan left your lips as he stretched you, deeper than before, bare and hot and thick. The sensation was overwhelming—so intimate, so raw, nothing between you to dull it.

Dean let out a broken groan, his head falling against your shoulder. "Fuck—" His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath ragged against your skin. "You feel... Jesus, you're so fucking perfect."

You clung to him, nails biting into his shoulders, drinking in every inch as he filled you completely. "Dean," you gasped, already shaking, the feeling of him bare inside sending electric pleasure through your veins.

"Not gonna last long like this," he admitted, voice wrecked, strained, his hips pressing flush against yours. "You feel too damn good."

You tightened around him in response, and he cursed under his breath, pulling back just enough before thrusting in again, slow, deliberate.

The drag, the friction—it was maddening. He set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips, each movement deep and slow, making you feel every inch of him. His lips found your neck, sucking, biting, as he moved, claiming you in every way possible.

The hot spray of the shower poured down his back, running between your joined bodies, making every slick movement even more intoxicating. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body, winding you tighter, making you tremble against him.

Dean groaned against your throat, his breath hot and ragged, hands gripping your thighs as he drove into you harder, deeper. The wet sounds of skin meeting skin mixed with the steady patter of water against tile, the air thick with steam, with heat, with the intoxicating scent of him.

“Goddammit, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “You feel so fucking good—so tight, so perfect.”

Your only response was a choked moan as he adjusted his angle, his cock hitting that spot inside you that had you arching against him, nails biting into his shoulders. Your body clenched around him, and Dean cursed, a deep, guttural sound that sent another wave of arousal crashing through you.

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing firm, teasing circles that had you gasping.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your ear, voice thick with need. “Let me feel you, baby—wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

Your body was already unraveling, fire burning hot in your core, the pleasure too much, too good. His fingers worked you in time with his thrusts, his pace quickening, desperate now, chasing that high.

“Dean—fuck—”

“I got you,” he promised, voice rough, desperate. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And you did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing over you, pleasure tearing through your body in hot, rolling pulses. Your walls clenched around him, gripping him tight, making him groan, his movements stuttering as he chased his own release.

“Shit—” Dean cursed, his head falling against your shoulder, his thrusts turning erratic, rough, his breath coming in sharp, ragged pants.

Then, with one final, deep stroke, he was gone, a shudder wracking through him as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding deep, his groan low and wrecked against your throat.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, bodies locked together, chests heaving, steam curling around you. Dean pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still dark, lips brushing against your damp skin.

“Jesus,” he muttered breathlessly, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “That was—”

You exhaled a soft, breathless laugh, fingers tangling in his wet hair.

“Yeah,” you murmured, just as dazed.

Dean let out a breathless chuckle, still holding you close as he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Then he pulled back just enough to glance at the shower-head, feeling the now lukewarm water cascading over both of you.

“I think your idea of saving water was a damn fallacy,” he teased, with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed, still trying to catch your breath, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, well… in my defence, I wasn’t really thinking about the water.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me.”

AN: Okay this was a steamy one, I hope we're all okay after this one? 😅 Please let me know how you're liking the story so far? And are you just as frustrated as I am with these two? Feed back is much appreciated 💕

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell @nancymcl @happyfxckinghorrors @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @fangirlingfromdownunder @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @piptoost @shadysoulangel @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @waynes-multiverse @jaredpadonlyyyy

Next Time...

As you neared the building, Charlie shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “You coming to the company Christmas party tomorrow night?” You blinked, nearly having forgotten about the annual bash Roman Enterprises threw right before everyone was released for their so-called ‘Christmas break.’ “Shit, I completely forgot about that,” you admitted, your breath visible in the air. Your mind had been preoccupied with... well, other things. “Well, I’m only going if you are. I can only tolerate these people when I’m getting paid for it.” You laughed at that, shaking your head. “I mean, I guess it’d be the decent thing to show our faces, right?” You shrugged, considering it. “And I do have to admit—Dick throws a damn good party.” “Right? And there’s always a chocolate fountain,” Charlie said, eyes lighting up. You hummed in agreement. “Fuck it. Let’s go. I can grab a new dress on my way home later.” Charlie grinned, clearly pleased. “Oh! You should invite Dean. It’s been a while since I saw that knucklehead.” That made you hesitate. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to invite Dean, but an office Christmas party wasn’t exactly a casual setting. And inviting him made it feel a little too much like... a date. But then again, Charlie would be there. It wasn’t like it would just be the two of you. Three friends hanging out. Totally normal.

[elephantlovemedleys]

NICOLE KIDMAN & EWAN MCGREGOR as SATINE & CHRISTIAN

photographed for MOULIN ROUGE! (2001)

[originalartblog]

Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.

If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.

[vice-like]

just saw this one in the main tag and it got me thinking... "wanting to do the right thing but having your actions distort your goals" is obviously about natori, he even reflects upon it directly more than once during the chapters BUT even tho world unbent is from natori's pov, i always thought it wasn't just about him but also about matoba and the exorcist world. for me it was clear that midorikawa wanted to expand upon the exorcists and thought natsume's pov wouldn't have been enough for this case (i also think she always wanted to expand upon natori's and matoba's younger days as well)

so with that in mind i tried thinking if that could apply to matoba too and it might be a stretch but i think it does, but in the sense that "the right thing" for matoba and natori are two different things and matoba might not even think abt doing it along those lines

like, from what we've seen, i interpret that matoba genuinely thinks the matoba clan has a responsibility to protect ppl, regardless if they can see yokai or not and he takes that very seriously, most recent example being what he said abt a previous matoba head being unable to protect the miharu; also to achieve this the clan must be powerful above all others and for that he needs to do anything and if he has a limit we haven't seen it yet. we see that during world unbent ("i won't let us fall"), but most recently during homura arc when he was willing to bet his own life just to be able to control a powerful vessel (being shortsighted enough abt the possibility that natsume had to snap him out of it), he's power hungry, but weirdly enough he's like that because it's "the right thing to do" or what he must/needs to do, the matoba must be powerful to be able to protect anyone and anything ("you can't protect anything if you're not powerful, shuuichi-san")

so "having your actions distort your goals", how does that apply to matoba in a world unbent? midorikawa was merciful enough to let us know his initial goal (or what he wants ppl to think his goal is?): "i'm looking for allies i can use" and at first he was definitely testing if natori could be that, but by the second part (that tellingly starts with a companion matoba artwork to natori's in the first part) i think he wanted to work with natori so badly simply bc he was a peer his age, probably the first and only in the exorcist world and for this interpretation i have no evidence just vibes lol besides this part in midorikawa's afterword from homura arc

anyways, for me this conversation during the second part of world unbent is the best example of matoba's actions distorting his goal:

in my interpretation matoba's goal here was to be picked by natori to be that person, to be his peer, to be the one that teaches him and works with him and "he's better" bc he's more powerful than takuma-san and that's a fact (also idt he wanted to be his "mentor" per se, i think he wanted to be closer than that but that's my bias lol). as i see it, matoba was not trying to bad mouth takuma (and i think natori understood that too), but simply stating what's most important: power, which is ultimately very different from the things that natori puts first, even tho he's also seeking to be a more powerful exorcist

another thing that is also funny about these two understanding but mostly misunderstanding each other is that natori wants to become powerful so he could be needed, so he can protect ppl, "do the right thing", which is the same but also different from the reason why matoba seeks power and the kind of power they seek is also different but the same in one aspect, natori wants spiritual power but also "power" to better himself, to be a better person, while the power matoba seeks is spiritual but also a power that will make the matoba clan unbeatable which can be power over ppl

the way his actions distort his goal here is this: natori focuses on the fact that matoba values spiritual power and the power one can have over another more than someone's character and what natori wishes to learn from ppl like takuma is how to be better as a person so he can carve his own path or at least finally find what his path even is and how to set himself in it. this blinds him to anything else, him and matoba are fundamentally different, end of story. and so from his pov he can not see what matoba is offering which was actually matoba's main goal in this conversation: "I can teach you, I can work with you, I can protect you, I can help you become more powerful, I can protect ppl, so you should stick with me, you sould use me instead of him" and matoba's shocked reaction is proof he was misunderstood and natori's reaction to this conversation was unexpected to him, if my interpretation of what he meant is right or not is up to debate tho

so if natori realises and reflects upon his "actions distorting his goal" does matoba do the same? and that's what intrigues me a lot here, because honestly i don't know, we are not shown that ever. does matoba realise how his actions can hinder his goals? does he care enough to reflect on it? does he care abt how he's perceived? does he care about how natori perceives him specifically? and honeslty the way he gets "worse" abt this in the present timeline (being an unsettling little shit especially towards natsume) makes the interpretation that he doesn't care enough to change and so doesn't reflect upon it seem plausible but when it comes to matoba maybe it's simpler that that:

from afterword for chapters 52-54

he's just like that, he is who he is, the matoba clan head but also matoba seiji and he's not afraid of his mistakes, he'll face them head on even if they distort his goals. most interesting tho, while i do think he's like that partially bc he's a little shit and likes having fun ruffling ppl's feathers, i think it's interesting how there's a possibility of him seeing that habit as a mistake, idk if that interpretation is right but matoba is a character that is difficult to interpret especially bc we dont get his pov, he's a confusing character and the fact we never get into his head makes him even more multifaceted. now that we're getting more into matoba clan drama maybe someday we'll get his pov, but until then ig it souldn't be too hard to think a person notices and reflects upon their mistakes right? well, unless the person is matoba seiji, then i dont know.

there's other things i want to talk abt here, especially the fact that natori wants to be needed and current timeline matoba might actually need him, but does natori know that? you think the "a burden can be shared" bs might be an indication that he does, but i don't think he actually does lol also the fact matoba was seeking someone to use but ended up wanting to be used instead to this day (and is ecstatic abt it during homura, one of the many reasons why he looks like he's having the time of his life during those chapters imo), idk just the fact natori recoils at the wording of "someone to use" but wants to be useful himself and matoba ends up wanting to be used by him so badly it's funny (and also a little sad). just these two always wanting the same thing but mostly not and understanding but mostly misunderstanding each other more than anyone ever could for one another, how they could go together seamlessly but mostly don't yet i dont have the capacity to expand upon those right now, midorikawa gotta give me more so, anyways

[starmonsterrr]

[ * hey hello quick announcement I vibe with proshippers now (I have sorta nuanced views but I'm closer to being proship and I'm comfy hanging out with them so. If you don't vibe with that there's the three dots in the top right corner of this post, click that and it should give you the option to block me) ]

Edit 2: [ * HEY WHY DO I HAVE MORE FOLLOWERS NOW. THAT AIN'T RIGHT. THAT DOESN'T ADD UP. WHAT'S UP WITH THAT. I THOUGHT MORE PEOPLE WOULD UNFOLLOW AND MAYBE BLOCK. ]

[sideblog-9000]

Season 8 is so cold, does anyone know what I mean. It's so gray, where's the warm lighting. I need yellow. Everything is so dead, it's such a lonely vibe where IS EVERYONE.

[causenessus]

hi! i'll keep this short

i came to the realization everytime i've disappeared from tumblr to "take a break" i never really have because of other things going on in my life (which, duh, this isn't my whole life) but! i also realized that if i never actually take the time to recover and rest and think about things i should be writing i'll never feel better. so! i'm (once again)(but now more formally) going on hiatus until maybe may! i might pop in for spring break or earlier if i feel like it, but until then, not really any writing from me! with that being said, i'll still be around, doting on my moots (i.e. like, dorothea <3 wyr <3 and bug <3) because i love them so much and i will probably also post chapters of present ever so often! the reason being (i'm going to try to make this make sense but it may only make sense to me but i'm aware of how contradicting i am to me five seconds ago when i said i need to take a break from writing) present is a very personal fic for me that i've worked on for years at this point. what i'm posting now are chapters i wrote months ago after I've read over and edited them (or in the case of the upcoming chapter, i did randomly add it in and had to write it from the ground up last week lmao) but if it isn't obvious, present is a work i'm very passionate about and am just posting in case anyone else enjoys it but it feels like it's a work that is very individualized just for me and it doesn't cause me any stress or anxiety. on the topic of individualization, although i am of course so so thankful for all of the support and people that follow me, i do sort of miss when my blog and world were a lot smaller. it's something i feel like i only get when i get to reply to people in comments, but other than that, all the numbers and people on my feed give me a lot of anxiety. the hq (smau fandom especially) fandom or at least how much i'm (was) involved in it has grown exponentially and of course i'm happy about that but it's a bit too much for me. i'll be taking a huge step back from the fandom and any hq works i've written at least in the meantime, but that's not to say they'll never be finished! but i either need to grow to handle the bigger audience that now reads my works or wait for things to grow a little smaller again :) i hope to still be able to read my moots works but forgive me if it takes me a bit or i never get to them! i think at the least i'll still like them to show my support <3 thank you if you read my long ramble! i love you all <3

oh also i'll probably post self ship moodboards and the beginning of my reading list (thank you again dorothea for the idea <3)! but again, I think you get the idea by now; I want to go back to doing this for me! so this is a tiny little goodbye now i'm leaving for you all with forehead kisses and flowers and love notes and mwah <3 i'll see you around!

[finniestoncrane]

my thing is, i want to talk to people. i want to be good at socialising. but i've never really had much practice, so i don't know how? i don't know how to carry on a conversation. it makes me nervous and anxious and makes my stomach hurt and it tires me out. i would love to have a constant back and forth. it'd be swell lmao

unfortunately. i cannot and it's confusing. i want to talk, but i can't. and i also don't want to? mental illness cocktail gets in the way

like earlier i was going to speak to people, i'd typed a couple messages out!! but i figured they wouldn't want to talk to me which is fine i know that's likely just the anxiety. so then i thought "i know, mitigate the risk!! i'll ask if people want to chat about a specific topic with me so they have to opt in" and then panicked because that would mean people would talk to me? which is what i wanted? LMAO

confusing and irritating, so i made a meme

[reasonsforhope]

Heads up/warning that I'm going to start posting articles related to the Israel-Palestine War

I've worked really, really hard to keep my blog about positive news only, and that's going to continue - these posts will be only about good news related to the war.

Of which there really, really isn't much, so I don't know that there will be a lot of posts, but I will be posting articles about humanitarian aid reaching those who need it and actions that will prevent more lives from being taken.

I know that, no matter my position on the war, this is something that would be very controversial and make a lot of people upset, so I wanted to be explicit about my position on this - and my posting policy, which is not the same thing. I also wanted to give people a heads up because I know the war in general is really, really triggering for a lot of people right now, for a lot of different reasons. I'll be tagging all relevant posts, so if screening those out is something that you need to do, you can.

I have worked very hard to make this blog a space with only good news because I know how much it can matter to have just one place, if nowhere else, that you can count on to not give you emotional whiplash with horrible news. To know you have one place you can go where you are guaranteed not to see bad news that will send you into a tailspin. That's why I've had a policy of not including signal boosts or PSAs about tragedies, no matter what they are, on this blog. (I do post about some of that stuff, including the Israel-Palestine War, on my main blog, though. I consider this blog to be me trying to run a public service, basically, and so have specific policies for myself around that, including my editorial and fact-checking standards.)

I'm going to be honest, I was really, really hoping the war would end after a couple of weeks, which has historically not been uncommon for wars with/involving Israel.

But that's clearly not happening, and I can't keep not acknowledging what's happening on here, so, this post.

With that, I imagine people probably want to know my actual stance on the war, since that's what I'll be posting in accordance with.

So, here's the official stance of this blog:

Every time a civilian is killed, it is a tragedy; Every time a child is killed, it is a tragedy, no matter their nationality. I condemn all antisemitism and all Islamophobia.

I support all calls for a ceasefire, as well as demands that Israel immediately stop its repeated bombing of hospitals, ambulances, shelters (including UN shelters), and refugee camps.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of hospitals is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of shelters or refugee camps is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of ambulances is justified.

There is no situation in which the killing of children is justified. Yet more children have now been killed in Gaza than in all global conflict zones combined in each year since 2019.

There is no situation in which cutting off an entire country and/or territory's supply of food and water is justified.

Yes, this applies to every group involved in the war, including countries supplying either side, and any countries or non-state organizations who may yet join the fighting.

The initial Hamas attack on Israel was a tragedy. The continued Israeli bombardment and invasion of Palestine is also a tragedy.

Most of the things I post will be about aid reaching Palestinians or news about tangible, confirmed progress toward a ceasefire. I probably will not be posting good news posts about aid reaching Israel, unless it's explicitly and only humanitarian and/or barring drastic unforeseen changes in circumstance. This is because as of yesterday, November 7, the Palestinian death toll is over 10,000 to Israel's roughly 1,400 (only about 200 of whom have been killed in the past month, starting on October 8, aka outside of the initial attack by Hamas). At least 3,195 children have died in Gaza, 33 in the West Bank, and 29 in Israel.

The Palestinian death toll is nearly 8 times the Israeli death toll. The number of children killed is 110 times higher in Palestine than Israel. (Source for death toll here, ratios via calculator.) Every single one of those deaths is a tragedy - and there have been far, far too many tragedies this past month.

(On a related note, Israel stands very, very little chance of actually eliminating Hamas with this war. The US has attempted this same strategy and failed many times: the US failed to eliminate the communist/North Korean regime in the Korean War, which is technically still ongoing 70 years later; failed to eliminate the Viet Cong in the Vietnam War; failed to eliminate numerous groups of Iraqi insurgents in the Iraq War, which triggered Iraq's civil war; and failed to eliminate the Taliban in the Afghanistan War, even though that war lasted for literally 20 years. Afghanistan is once again under total Taliban control.)

The last thing we need is another 20 year war. The last thing we need is more civilian deaths. Bombing civilian settlements, as well as hospitals, shelters, and refugee camps are war crimes under international law, meaning that both Israel and Hamas have committed war crimes.

It's time for the war crimes to stop.

Humanitarian aid reaching civilians is good news, and I will be posting accordingly.

Ceasefire now.

[beargregor]

Chef greg delivery just for you. it's a wonder I hadn't bearified him yet, he's my fave greg too 🔪

gays literally only want one thing (to be chopped up and eaten by a depressed man) and it's fucking disgusting