#looked through my liked posts and freaked me out

[floralscented]

dean winchester x angel!reader — kissing lessons.

or, the defenses are down, the blockades shattered, and you dont know how to kiss. or, let dean help you.

cw, 18+, MDNI! dean talks you through it for real this time. backseat sex LOL. fluffy smut? lowkey subby dean hehehe. no protection yell @ them not me.

word count: 5.6k

notes, dean gets to be his full freak self here hehehe. everyone say ur welcome since i've been being HOUNDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIMEMEEEEMEEEE TO POST THIS. unfortunately for all of u this is the planned conclusion to their tale </3 don't crucify me. u legally can't since i'm giving u this.

★ ˚⋆

things were... a little awkward, after you saved dean's life with a kiss. like passion drove you over the edge, a desperate need to save him and to do it any way possible, that was the only time that you managed to kiss him right.

and he didn't — well, he kind of judged you for it. just little laughs, when you'd lean in to try and kiss him and end up flushing and sinking backwards. it was cute. sure, it did mean he wasn't getting any action anytime soon, and every bedtime kiss you promised him ended up becoming a bedtime smack for him laughing at your struggle, but hey, you guys just had a different dynamic.

he still thought you were the prettiest thing to ever grace earth. just because you didn't know how to kiss properly didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop being interested. it just opened doors to getting to teach you.

sam stayed back at the motel while dean volunteered to go on a drink run. it was one of those nights; a roundabout case that the both of them knew was going to keep them up looking for the slightest detail in the research that could alter their investigation for the better. sam needed a beer, dean wanted a beer, and you wanted whiskey.

literally. girl of his dreams, he'd thought. still thinks.

plus, you love car rides. dean had not let you back behind the wheel since the last time, and you didn't seem to want to try again either, more than content to sit and look pretty in the seat next to him.

the nearest liquor tour in whatever small town you guys were camping out in for the night was a good few miles away, and so he got to play all of his cards in one fell swoop. hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up the seams of your jeans, tracing with his nail on the inside of your palm.

you were squirming. he loved when you squirmed.

his fingers are just at the inside of your thigh, long enough to have gently walked their way over like they owned the place ( he did, you didn't know it yet ) and rest easily. that is the moment you speak up, those narrowed eyes locked on his in a glare.

"stop that."

dean's eyebrows flick up. he spares a single glance toward you, the picture of innocence written into the marrow of his sinful bones. "stop what?"

"you're touching me."

he hums to himself for a moment, eyes turned toward the stoplight he'd rolled up to. "could be touching you more."

"no."

dean huffs out a laugh. "are you scared of my hands, dove?" even as he says it, his hand moves again, to the safety of your thigh. "you know they'd never hurt you."

your eyes roll furiously. you grab his wrist and practically throw his hand onto the gearstick. "your hands are not sentient beings and cannot make that choice for you."

dean's gotten really receptive to you, over these past few weeks. what your expressions meant in the rare times that you didn't voice your confusion, what your body language said, and so now he's confident that he knows what you're feeling right now. your hands are clenched tightly in your lap, purposely not touching him, fisted so tightly that they shake a little. your eyes are facing forward without budging, even though he knows that his gaze is burning into the side of your face.

the stoplight illuminates your face in a green glow. "it's a green light," you say without turning to look at him, and that pretty much confirms it for dean. you're afraid. afraid, embarrassed, and not wanting to tell him any of it. "so go."

dean's jaw clenches as he restrains a frown behind the cage of his teeth. the absolute last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to hide away from him, keeping every one of those thoughts locked away in your inexperienced, curious head.

the car rolls into drive again, passing the parking lot for the liquor store. he sees it out of the corner of his eye; the way your head cocks to the side, your lip between your teeth while you try to figure out what he was doing. you could ask. he wanted you to ask. whatever was eating at you was keeping all of his pretty girl's first thoughts from him.

he pulls off on the side of the road and cuts the engine, leaving the both of you in darkness except for the moonlight pouring in through the windshield.

dean nods toward the backseat. "hop on back there, sweet girl," he says with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the driver's seat. you don't move. he props himself in the doorway with an unmoved expression. "c'mon. it's late. don't wanna have to tell you twice."

the way your face twists up in annoyance is exactly what he wanted to see. good. anything but that weariness that had marred your features. he slips into the backseat, shuts the door behind him, before your door opens.

seconds later, you're dropping into the seat next to dean. he turns on the leather to face you better, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. "you know you can talk to me, right? i act like an ass all the time, i know, but you don't have to lock yourself away."

your face goes pink at his words. that angry twitch of your nose makes an appearance, and it's all dean can do not to break into a wider grin. knowing that something so delicate could also be so wicked was an enticing thought all in itself.

"it's embarrassing."

"so what?" his lips twist as his shoulders raise in a shrug. "who's gonna judge you? me? be serious, dove."

your nose twitches again, mouth in a tight scowl. "you would definitely judge me."

"that's how i know you're feelin' all insecure up there," dean says, tapping your temple with his finger, "because you know that's not true. i know that's not true."

you growl, actually growl, and dean wants nothing more than to grab you by the hand and tug your mouth onto his. even if you don't kiss him back, he wants to kiss you. your furious frustration was a common occurrence around him, but that didn't mean it got any less attractive.

"when you touch me," you grit out through your clenched teeth, your hands fisted in your lap like you might hit him. hell, he'd have taken the punch right then, if it kept you talking. "i feel things."

dean blinks twice in quick succession. "and?" you do hit him square in the shoulder. your hands carry much more of a punch than he could have predicted. he lets out a little oof, his lips pursing with his lack of amusement. "it's a serious question!"

"i can't say." you look adamant, your frustration so pretty on your features, and dean's a bit dazed. "it's embarrassing," you repeat, and dean gets it. or, he thinks he does.

one corner of his mouth quirks again, his cheek dimpling. the hand on your face falls to your thighs again, fingers lightly dancing on the inner seam of your jeans. "here?"

your hand raises to punch him again, and he knows he's right; catches it just in time before you can bruise that spot on his shoulder. "well, i can't leave you feelin' all hot and bothered, can i?"

"i am not hot," you scoff out almost in disgust at the suggestion, and dean does laugh, then. you were so hot it was ridiculous, but alright. "but i am very bothered."

"lucky for you," dean murmurs, his hand releasing your wrist and moving to your jaw, turning your head to look at him again, "i am very good at handlin' bothered girls." he leans in, brushes his lips against yours. "angels, i should say."

dean can feel you retreating already at the slight touch of his lips, but now he knows that it's not because you don't want to kiss him, or don't want what he's offering. you're afraid of it like the feelings will bite you, nervous to feel the full extent of it. his fingers hold your jaw more firmly.

"now, i'm not gonna ask," he says, driven further by the soft sound of your breath catching, "since you're feeling a little trigger happy right now... but i think it's time my little dove has herself some kissing lessons."

to his surprise, you don't hit him again. you just stare into his eyes with such earnest honesty that it's his turn to lose his breath. you trusted him so much. he wanted to show you just how much it meant to him; let you watch as he cradled your heart in his hands.

the distance closes in a second between your mouths, the brush of his slow and languid against yours, judging your reactions. your kiss is hesitant, and then suddenly you're pressing further into him, the force of it almost bruising when you don't move your lips. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

dean's finger comes up to pinch your lips closed, smiling softly as he does. "don't have to try n' bite my face off, honey, i promise," he chides without any malice in his words, taking advantage of the gentle grasp he had on your lips to lean in again. he kisses you slowly again, deliberate in the way his mouth moves, so you could figure it out.

your fingers uncurl in your lap and move to his shirt, twisting the soft cotton lightly. that's when he releases your lips, his hand shifting to cup your cheek in his palm. dean's thumb traces reassuringly on your cheekbone.

when your mouth opens this time, it's less like you're trying to sink your teeth into him and more like an invitation. dean knew you were a quick learner; had from the moment he'd let you behind baby's wheel. seeing it action like this, with your hands in his shirt and your tongue swiping across his, was on another level.

his free hand reaches for your hands one at a time, his touch on your wrist light as he lifts your fingers to his hair. he has to force his mouth away from yours, has to pull away from the taste of your tongue. "i know how much you wanna yank my hair out," dean teases, letting go of your hand to let you take over, "so go ahead n' pull, baby."

you look between his eyes again with that same open look, and he's sure he's melting right there into the leather backseat. "really?"

dean laughs. "yeah, really." he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "matter of fact, touch anywhere you want, baby. this is all for you. so y'can get outta that head of yours."

something flashes in your eyes at that. he doesn't know what it was - the offer or the idea - that caught your attention, but he's intrigued, too. one of your hand drops from his hair to his shirt again, this time at the waist of it.

he's a little dazed, admittedly, as you untuck it from being bunched up in the waist of his jeans. it's intense to have your eyes on him while you pull his shirt up until it catches on his extended arms.

"took the first chance y'could to get me naked, huh?" dean asks, even as his voice comes out more strained than it'd been before, his jeans suddenly feeling just as tight.

you use your elbow to nudge his arms up, and he raises his hands in defense at your sudden act of authority before he lifts them. then, you've got his shirt off, tossing it behind your back. "shut up."

"there's my girl," he murmurs, hooking his finger in your belt loop and tugging you closer. maybe he was moving too fast. maybe he knew you'd adapt quickly.

and you do. he never doubted you for a second. your hand rests on his cheek, guiding him back into a kiss, more confidently than any of your kisses had been so far. your fingers tangle in his hair, and dean has to physically bite back on the groan in his throat.

he takes advantage of his hold on your jeans to start unfastening them. you're so good for him, a perfect match, because you don't even know what you're doing but your hips are lifting so he can start pulling them down.

dean breaks the kiss with a pop of your mouths, and the growl you let out goes straight to the hardening cock trapped in his jeans. he doesn't want to move so fast, but you've always been a little cruel like this, tempting him in ways that he should have been stronger to resist. there was no resistance now.

he hooks his arm under your legs to turn you in the seat, draping them across his lap. he unties your boots for you, pulling them off and setting them on the floor of the backseat. then, he's grabbing the bunched denim on your thighs and tugging until they're off. dean has more care with your clothes than you did with his. he'd always treat everything about you as gently as glass, setting them on the middle console between the front seats.

you look at him for a second, like you're trying to gauge the situation you've both found yourselves in. pulled over on the side of the road like teenagers that couldn't wait, stripping each other naked in the backseat. it'd be laughable if you didn't look so vulnerable. for the second time that night, dean realized how big the trust you had in him was, and he didn't want to do a thing to mess it up.

"lemme get this off of you, yeah?" he asks, his hands moving to the bottom of your shirt. he meets your gaze for confirmation; gets a single nod. "it means a lot, y'know," he continues on, trying to keep you out of the black hole that was your worries, as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, "that you're trusting me with this. all of it."

"don't start," you whine, your hands moving to your eyes, covering your face. dean grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, moving your arms out of the way so he could properly see you. "hey!"

dean's lips pull into a small smile. "hi."

"this is a lot," you say, and his smile softens considerably, "i don't know what to do now."

dean lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "whatever you wanna do. this is all you, baby, i'm just here to provide." he rests his large palm on your kneecap, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin. "we can stop. you can kiss me again, or punch me again, if that's what you want. we can get dressed again, get what we actually came for..."

"no." you blink a few times before you shake your head. "i don't want to stop, i..."

dean's not a patient man. he's used to time limits and counting his days. but in this backseat with you, he's certain time has stopped just for the both of you. he feels the world at his disposal, like every bit of time existed like pieces of sand in his palms.

when you realize he is, for once, not going to interrupt you, and not try and put thoughts in place of your feelings, you huff. "i do not know what to do from here."

dean grabs for one of your discarded hands, holding your fingers in his lap. "do you want us to be on equal ground?" he asks, nodding down at himself. you were in nothing but undergarments; he still had his jeans on. "and then we can figure it out from there?"

your smile is beautiful in its hesitance. "okay."

"okay like you want my pants off, or okay like you'd just feel better if we were both freezin' our asses off back here?" dean teases, even as he shifts a little in the cramped space to start taking off his jeans.

your huff is practically a wordless grumble in itself. "why do you want me to spell things out?"

"i want you comfortable, dove," he says, the waistband of his jeans paused at his thighs, "there's no pressure here at all. if there's pressure, then it's not fun anymore."

you think on it for a second. dean watches your expression shift with your feelings and acceptance. "you may continue."

"oh, mama's bossy now, is she?"

you grab a handful of the leg of his jeans and yank. "shut up."

"yes, ma'am."

you wad up his discarded jeans and toss them at him in a ball of denim. "shut up."

"you're so pretty when you're mad, honey," dean mumbles, using his grip on your hand to tug you forward. you stumble a little in the small space, falling into his lap. "come n' make me shut up."

your eyes are narrowed on him as you shift to make yourself comfortable. your leg tosses over his thighs, settling into his lap. his breath hitches in his throat at the feel of your heat through both of the thin undergarments on you, and from the look in your eyes, the evidence of his own arousal has made itself prominent against you, too.

you look like you might say something. you don't. your hands grab him by his face and drag him in for another kiss. he actually chokes on a noise in his throat at the suddenness, and he thinks he might love you. knows he does, but has never felt the intensity of it quite like this before.

dean's mouth opens to let you in, craving the taste of you again. your tongue meets his instantly, lapping against each other's in a languid slow dance. he's content like this. he could stop here, and go back to the motel with or without the alcohol and use this memory here of your tongue in his mouth while you sat all pretty in his lap to get himself off, and be perfectly fine.

but if there was one thing that you were full of, it was surprises. his little whiskey drinking, praise adoring, bossy angel. your fingers fall between the both of your bodies and rest on his hard on through his boxers, and dean looses a shuddering breath.

you pull away from his mouth with his saliva on your lips. dean's head falls back onto the headrest of the backseat with a groan. "you told me i could touch," you say, your innocent voice so out of place with your devilish hands.

"i did," dean says, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "didn't expect you to go for the gold immediately, though."

your answering smile is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. the moon sits high in the sky outside of the window, glowing and whitecast down onto you.

a halo of your own making.

dean thinks he's going to die.

you raise your hips off of him for the time being, your light touch teasing and electric at once. dean grasps that hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing each of your fingertips. "here," he says quietly, his other hand going to your waist. he traces over your ribcage lightly before he closes his fingers over your side.

he pulls you closer, lets you grind against the swell in his boxers. he groans, your breath hitches with a little whine, and he's sure, then, that he'll die like this.

"you like that?" dean asks you, dipping his head to get a better look at your eyes. you look dazed, a little drunk, and dean wants to see those pretty eyes glimmer and glisten.

he lifts you up again by your thigh, just enough to slide his boxers off of him as gently as he can. the space is cramped, and it's finally starting to feel like it.

dean's done this plenty of times, but there's something about your gaze that makes him feel more vulnerable than he ever has before. he's naked underneath you; you, who has never done anything like this before, and he feels more exposed than you seem to.

it's like a game, now. when he does something, you do it, like you don't want to fall behind in this back and forth. your hips stay up, and it's more awkward for you to tug your panties off, but you manage it with a few lifts of your legs, and a kick that sends them, somehow, into the driver's seat.

you laugh. it's breathtaking.

dean helps you settle back on his thighs, and it's all he can do to not fall apart there. you're warm, you're wet enough that he feels it on his legs, and all he wants to do is make you feel even better than you do now.

"green light?" dean asks, lifting his eyes to look at you again, and not at all of the skin bared to him. he doesn't want to overwhelm you with how intense he must be staring at you, but you're mesmerizing. perfection in the form of a wingless angel sat on his lap.

you blink a couple of times before the realization settles in. "go?"

"i'm askin' you, dove," he says in answer, hand going to the back of your neck to pull you closer, to press a kiss to your forehead. "red light or green light?"

your face is so close to his, but dean can see the melted expression in your eyes. instead of answering, you press a kiss to his mouth again. he's glad you like it, now that you know how to do it. he could handle kissing you over and over, but your lips kissing him back is something he was already getting addicted to.

on his mouth, you whisper, "green light."

dean blinks, now. his teeth drag your bottom lip back lightly until it pops back into place. "yeah?"

at your nod, he sits up a little better, his arms snaking around your waist. once he's got a good grip on you, he moves the both of you so that he's sprawled beneath you in the backseat, fully extended. he doesn't fit, his legs bent a little as his back presses into the door, but it's fine. everything is fine when he has you. plus, his bent knees only draws you closer to him.

"i promise this is the last time i'm gonna do this to you," he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, lifting you off of his thighs again. "just say red light if it's too much, okay?"

"okay."

it's more gentle than he's ever been, the way he spreads your legs open a little more, the way he lines the aching length of his cock up with your waiting entrance. just the brush of the tip against the wetness of your folds could make him crumble.

dean pushes up enough to just barely rest inside of you, giving you the moment to adjust. your gasp is small, breathless. he stops instantly, his hand on your thigh loosening its grip. your face twists into a frown. "i didn't say red light," you grumble through the pout, and he's always been a sucker for that little pout, as much as he is for when you sink your teeth into the puffy lip.

his laugh is warm, free hand raising in surrender again. "sorry, baby, jus' lookin' out for you."

you start to sink down further on him yourself with nothing but his hand in guidance. your eyes are wide, your lips parted in a soundless 'o', but you don't tell him to stop, and he trusts you enough to know that you would, if you needed it. he couldn't helicopter monitor you just because he was afraid of breaking the pretty thing he'd grown so attached to.

it's a tight fit, being inside of you. he can feel every bit of your walls expanding to fit him, and he tries not to groan, tries to not get too ahead of himself, but goddamn. months of fantasizing about this, of denying himself those same fantasies out of fear of ruining the trust you were building between each other, comes nowhere near the reality of how it feels to have you in his arms.

your head drops to press against his, and dean's unable to resist the way he leans up to peck a kiss to your mouth. a quick one, light and easy, that you take as a sign to deepen. your teeth scrape his lip, your tongue explores the expanse of his mouth, and dean takes this distraction from the discomfort he knew you were feeling to push the rest of the way inside of you.

you whine on his lips, and he kisses away the little noises. "i know," dean mumbles on your mouth, "it's okay."

the red light is unspoken, but he's not about to push you, or overstep anyways. you trace shapes with your fingertips on his bare chest, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"green light," you say after a few moments, and a few more soft kisses from him in the crook of your shoulder.

dean nods, leaving a last lingering kiss on your collarbone before he shifts enough to properly start to move inside of you. the thrusts are shallow and gentle, letting you get a feel for it, letting you adjust to his size.

your forehead drops to rest on his shoulder, each little whimper twisting at his heart, even if the sounds of them were beginning to get louder and less strained.

"feelin' better?" he asks, all of the strain from your voice stolen and bottled up in his. the way that you squeeze around him has all of his rational thought fogging, and it takes a conscious effort to be gentle with you. this wasn't about dean; it was about you.

you nod once, your hair tickling at his chest. he's about to keep up the slow pace, to keep going as gently as possible, until you sit up a little straighter and start to meet each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. dean's head knocks against the passenger window, his breath leaving his mouth in a shudder.

you must like it, too, because you let out a breathless laugh. you grab his hands and hold his fingers between yours, letting them fall to rest on his stomach. it's that game again; you doing something to keep up with what he's doing.

dean grins as he watches you, the tight expression on your face melding into something a little more wild and free. he's never seen you like this. he'd take a picture if he wasn't absolutely certain that you and him were gonna do this again.

again, he moves your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles this time, his groan reverberating through your fingers. you match him so easily, like you were made for whatever he gave to you. your increasing confidence makes him feel comfortable enough to speed up, his other arm braced on the back of the seats for stability as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

your head tips backwards with the first real moan he's ever heard out of you. your reckless abandon is utterly disarming. he sits up straighter, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you pressed against him as he buries himself inside of you.

your hands tremble as they lock onto his face, holding it to be nose to nose with him. you're panting on his mouth, and he can't stop staring at your lips, and he's so deep inside of you that he can feel the tip against your cervix, deep enough to make a rough groan slip out of his throat.

there was no need for kissing lessons. you would have figured it out on your own, dean's sure of it, with how you tilt his head back to suck his top lip between yours, tongue languid against his.

it's embarrassing how close he is to coming already. how couldn't he? he was enamored, transfixed, and getting this little taste of you was intoxicating. your fingers move from his cheeks to his jaw, clawing at his lip, tugging the bottom one down as you ride him.

he lets you. he'd let you do anything.

dean's thumb finds it's way between your legs, slipping between your slick folds to rub gentle circles into your clit. your thighs clench around his, grinding your hips down further onto his, against his hand.

his head tilts up to capture your mouth again, wanting to taste each moan that you let out, to swallow your pleasure and keep it to himself, where no one else can ever see it. each of those shuddering moans gets louder, more frantic, and he knows you're close.

"dean," you whisper into his mouth, and dean wants to hear his name said like this every time from you, now. breathless, desperate, and as needy as he felt.

he thumbs more deliberately at the swollen nub, pressing a final kiss to your mouth before he works little hot kisses down your jaw, your neck. "dean, i--"

"it's okay," his voice is as rough as gravel. "that's how it's supposed to feel." he knows your head like his own, knows from the frenzied breath into his shoulder that you're going to come, and that it must be a little much, trying to live through those feelings and try to figure them out. "it's supposed to, okay? jus' let go, i've got you."

dean would always have you. he loved you too much to let go.

that thought is what breaks his resolve. his thrusts become more sloppy, harder than he should probably be with you, but he loves you, and it's ruining him to not show it, or tell you. the car is thick with hot air, the windows are foggy, his skin is sticking to the leather seats, but he loves you.

you come apart on top of him with the moonlight still bathing you in a halo's glow. your hips still, your fingers claw at his face, scratching red marks into his stubble, and you cry out a moan against his lips.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you, a gasping groan punctuating his pants into the column of your throat, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum fills you. he'd worry about that later. or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't care about anything in the world besides how much he loves you.

dean doesn't realize he's whispering it out loud until he registers that pretty laugh of yours.

your hair is stuck to your forehead, your skin glassy with sweat in the pale moonlight, and the halo of the moon still hangs above your head. you're the most divine thing he's ever seen, the closest to divinity he's ever let himself be.

"you love me?" you ask, your eyes so sweet and so warm as they watch him.

dean leans up to kiss each corner of your mouth. "where'd you get that impression?"

he can never tell when you'll be matter-of-fact or when you'll play around. he forgets sometimes all of the things he's taught you, every bad idea you've got wedged in your mind because of his influence. dean winchester never wanted to corrupt you or your innocence, but he knew he'd always end up pulling you into the dark with him. you were stuck together, after all, now that he'd embedded himself to you for saving his life.

"i had a hunch." your head tilts up pridefully, chin jutted out. the act is cute while it lasts but falls apart instantly when you start to laugh again. dean's never heard you laugh so much since you'd met. how'd he get so lucky?

the car ride back to the motel is peaceful, the frigid air conditioning blasting to try and clear the fog from the windows and cool the sweat on your skin. the entire time, dean's hand is on your thigh, and the entire time, you don't move it. the moon follows his angel out the window the entire drive, like it knows, too, that you were as divine as beings could be.

sam calls two miles from the motel. "everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "it's been at least an hour. i didn't think you could get lost on a beer trip in this town."

beer. liquor store. alcohol run. it all comes back to dean now that his head is a little more clear.

"oh," is all dean can say for a few seconds, gaze flickering over to you in the passenger seat. you pick at the threads on his jacket he'd given to you, head downturned to unsuccessfully hide your laugh, "got sidetracked. we'll be back in twenty or so."

it was sam's turn to be silent. his following laugh is more like a scoff than anything else. "jesus christ, dean."

"blame dove," dean cackles into the speaker, eyes fond as he glances over at you again. he makes a (definitely illegal) u-turn at the same stoplight that acted as the tipping point for the night's event back in the direction of the liquor store. "she's the one who needed taught how to kiss."

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @jackleslvr @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[dem0batz]

The Ice Dragon and the Prince of Freaks

Eddie Munson x Reader

Author's Note: Fluffy unedited little post-season 4 one-shot I just wrote inspired by this post. I yearn for this sweet playful little freak.

Content Warnings: implied difficult home life, weed ~1200 words

The trailer park is silent, save for the soft crunch of fresh snow beneath my boots as I trudge toward the busted up playground equipment. Forrest Hills hasn’t bothered replacing any of the equipment, probably since the park was initially built. The rusty swing chains look unreliable at best so you opt for the squeaking merry-go-round, brushing off a layer of snow to clear a spot.

You hiss when the cold metal seeps right through my jeans, sending a shiver up you spine. Pulling your threadbare coat tighter, you hug your body, huddling into yourself to produce warmth. It doesn’t do much, but it’s better than being stuck alone in the trailer with your dad. It was hard enough living with him on a normal day, let alone being snowed in with him and a bottle of whiskey.

Just as your eyes find the moon, blurry from the stormy sky but still shining brightly through the haze, movement catches the corner of your eye. The figure is in black head to toe from the halo of dark wavy hair down to the dark jeans stuffed into worn leather boots. The black beanie on his head is folded over his forehead, shortening the length and revealing a small tear near the crease. His clothing was just as worn as your own, something a lot of the folks around here had in common.

“Busted,” he says an unlit joint hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Mind if I join you?”

“I don’t know,” you frown, eying him wearily. Your finger swirls through the layer of snow to your right, finishing the design off with a curling flourish. “That sign says ‘Freaks Only’.”

“Don’t you know that I’m the King of Freaks in this town, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s lip twitches as he tries to keep a straight face before the infectious smile breaks free, dimple creasing his cheek in a way that always made your heart patter against your ribcage. He closes the distance between the two of you, careful to pick the side to your left so as not to disturb your sign. After dusting off a spot, you watch him drop to sit next to you, hissing the same way you did when his ass makes contact with the freezing cold metal. You resist the urge to laugh as he adjusts to the cold.

“What are you doing out here so late, Munson? Don’t you know there’s a snow storm tonight?”

“Do you?” he challenges with a lift of his dark eyebrow, lighting up the joint and passing it to you.

You accept, taking a long inhale. Ignoring his retort, not wanting to delve into why you’re sitting alone in a snowstorm in the middle of the night, you blow it out in his direction, creating a dramatic steaming cloud against the blistering cold that swirls around him.

“When I was a kid, I loved going out when it was cold and seeing my breath on the cold wind. It made me feel like a mighty dragon. I used to wish for it so hard that sometimes I was convinced I would sprout wings at any moment and fly away from home.”

Pinching the joint between his fingers, he takes a hit of his own.

“Understandable as that may be, I’m glad you didn’t fly off without me. This place is more bearable with you around. Plus, what’s a dragon without a prince to kidnap and whisk off to her lair?”

“Aren’t princesses the ones who usually get kidnapped in these scenarios?”

“If you’re the dragon kidnapping me, you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart. Dragons don’t discriminate. Trust me."

“You play too much D&D,” you snort at his comment, swiping out to grab the joint.

Eddie pulls it just out of reach with a pout pulling down his lips before you can snatch it. You know the frown isn’t sincere, Eddie just likes to play around.

“No such thing and you would know that if you accepted my offer to play.”

“No way. There’s way too much of a learning curve, Eddie, and it’s intimidating as fuck.”

You make another lunge for the joint but he rises it high above his head with a gleeful smile as you crash into his chest. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you close while still keeping the weed out of reach.

“I’ll give it to you if you agree to play. Just one night. I promise I can change your mind with a single one-shot adventure. What do you say, pretty girl?”

Big brown eyes sparkle down at you with mirth. Another shiver wracks down your body, but you tell yourself it’s from the cold despite the sudden heat climbing up your neck toward your cheeks. This is not the first time Eddie has crossed into flirtatious banter with you— flirting was practically a second language for him. With all of his natural charm, it baffled you that he had been labeled the freak of Hawkins, even long before the incident in the woods where he was attacked by wild animals and left scarred.

The two of you had never spoken about it, but this was a small town and word got around. From what you’ve heard, he was lucky to have survived. You would think after an incident like that, people would be more compassionate but everyone mostly still eyed him with uncertainty. The only ones who didn’t seem to be afraid of him were a few students still attending Hawkins High and a few who already graduated but moved away for college. He was just as much of an outcast as you, maybe more, though you didn’t understand it.

“I’ll think about it.”

You reach for the joint again, letting out a frustrated steaming sigh when he jerks the glowing paper away once more. He lifts an expectant eyebrow, waiting.

“Fine,” you hiss, “I’ll play some freaking D&D now will you please give it to me, Eddie?”

He hums with a triumphant grin, “Such a polite girl, too. I’ll give you anything you want if you keep asking like that, baby.”

Eddie laughs when you swat playfully at him, but he finally passes the joint back to you, though he doesn’t release you from his hold. His arm circles around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side as you take another hit to try to warm yourself up. The heat radiating from his side helps as you pass the joint back and forth a few times. By the time Eddie carefully stubs out what remains on the merry-go-round handle and tucks it away in his jacket, you feel much warmer and lighter than you did when you first came out here.

Even the moon looks brighter.

Warm lips press against your cold cheek, pulling your attention from the sky and back to the prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, more glassy and shiny than they usually are due to the weed.

“What was that for?” you whisper, not wanting to break the fragile peace of the quiet snowy night.

“Just felt like it,” he whispers back, his voice low and warm. “Are you still thinking about flying away?”

You shake your head, eyes flicking down to his lips, all pink and dusty from the cold.

“Good. You’re not allowed to go without me.”

“Deal,” you agree, something cementing between the two of you like an oath.

With a soft smile, he leans forward to capture your lips, sealing it with a kiss as cold snowflakes blanket the two of you in.

[soobnotfound]

Thinkin bout you chapter [01. well...hello there my skibidi queen]

When  Zaidaan Amin lead guitarist of popular band Burnouts posts a not so tasteful comment about his labelmate katseyes logo their PR teams force the two groups to merge and befriend each other.What happens when shy Yn Vaughn, the lead singer of burnouts catches the eye of socially awkward dancer Megan Skiendiel?

The strong scent of coffee wafted around the  café as the low sound of discussion flowed through the building. Priya and Yn sat next to each other, Yn on the edge of the seat because yn had already formed the 'perfect' escape plan if anything went wrong. Priya played with a small rubix cube that her brother gave her (although it was missing a square). Meanwhile Flynn was reprimanding Zaidaan and telling him how to react when katseye got there. The group was so absorbed in their own world that when Sophia greeted them the first two times they hadn't realised at all.

"Yo. We're here garage band" Daniela said irritatedly which gauged the attention of the band

"We don't use fucking garage band" Zaidaan had mumbled to himself equally as irritated as Daniela due to the comment.

The members of katseye sat opposite the members of burnout a thick awkward tension lingering in the air that desperately needed to be broken, so taking it upon himself Zaidaan spoke first.

"It's so crazy that we're all here together two groups under HYBE x geffens getting along, ten crazy ki—"

YNS pov 

   "Our logo isn't stupid." The blonde one spoke interrupting Zaidaan (thank god).  

Zaidaan unfortunately being the argumentative and impulsive person that he is felt the need to respond to her "well it kind of is...I mean what is even going on with it? What's it mean, ya know I'd expect a cat to be on there or some—" 

I really tried to care about whatever the hell those two were talking about but I found it really hard, especially when the ginger one was looking at me. Like...full on staring me down, it was quite scary actually she kind of looked like she wanted to pounce and me and kill me. 

I sunk into my seat uncomfortably and attempted to avoid eye contact completely. 

"Girl she's totally checking you out" Priya mumbled poking my shoulder with the biggest grin known to mankind on her face.  

"No I think she just has a staring problem" I Whispered back to her trying to be as discreet as possible so the ginger girl didn't notice we were talking about her. 

I felt I needed to get out of this situation as soon as physically possible because the more the girl looked at me the more terrified I was, so I excused myself to the bathroom and immediately found refuge there.

3rd person Pov

Megan watched as yn left her seat which prompted Lara to play wingwoman for her hopeless friend 

"pretty sure you scared her off with your insistent staring, it was like you were trying to melt her with heat vision"

"I- no? She was just uh...okay you know what Lara, I don't appreciate your judgement." Megan attempted to switch her focus to her friend. 

"Right but you need it because this is hopeless...you should go talk to her alone and apologise for freaking her the fuck out" Lara squeezed Megan's shoulders whilst simultaneously pushing her to stand up.

"In the bathroom? Lara this is actually wild-" 

Lara cut her off "Bye bye now" waving her hands shooing Megan off to the bathroom.

“Uh hello? You in here, Miss band lady?” 

Yn held her breath hearing Megan's voice "what the fuck" she mumbled under her breath bracing herself and pushing open the door

"OH MY GOD GET BACK!" Yn shouted using a bidet to protect herself which proved to be both pathetic and ineffective only resulting in both yn and Megan soaked in water.

"WHAT THE FUCK CHILL!" Megan screamed as she pulled the bidet from yns hands and  turned it towards yn further drenching the poor girl

"Dude what the hell!!?" Yn grabbed the bidet and threw it to the ground.

...

The two girls stood in silence for a moment, their bodies entirely drenched in water, hair sopping and clothes dripping.

Yn looked up at Megan and a small grin appeared on her face. 

Megan looked up at Yn and began to laugh, the two girls both began to burst into a fit of giggles.

Yn smiled and extended her hand to Megan.

"I'm Yn Vaughn."

"Megan Skiendiel"

[cherrysolo]

hi my love again hehe!! in one of your posts you were asking about luigi's goodreads!! and i made an analysis about the books he's read that ive read here it is if u want to read it :))

sapiens - also part of luigi's favorite's list!! this is by yuval noah harrari my GOAT guys.. i cannot STOP yapping about this book!! if u guys dont like reading very bulky texts and js want to get the main point there's a graphic history version and it's ive read it spits out points very concisely !! so either book it's all good :)) it's veryvery interesting it talks about evolution and why humans act like humans!! i love history and yuval noah harrari made me love evolution so much!! this book was rated a 5/5 by luigi (deserved hehe) girl honestly anyone ANYONE who gave sapiens a chance would also rate it 5/5 or a high rating it's a timeless lighthouse on the fog of defining humanity so since luigi is a very left brained man this deff fits his character all in all (oh js wanted to mention he rated sapiens: graphic history a 4/5)

harry potter - he rated 1st-3rd book a 5/5 def deserved !! ofc it's a classic ive had my harry potter phase die out and live again MULTIPLE times harry potter is probably apart of many people including luigi's first books ive read and loved list

the little prince - 4/5 (by luigi) it still freaks me out that he read the same books as a lot of us, watched the same movies as a lot of us, and that he's js a regular human but his actions moved society to forward him to transcend into the status of being "it is hell on earth to be heavenly - ts", almost even myth-like anyways back to the little prince it's rlly an AMAZING book !! it's a short read and it speaks so much about taking the truth of growing up and adulthood and making it alien through a child's eyes def made a lot of people relive an innocence that once was

animal farm - he rated this a 4/5 and i agree with that i read animal farm for school and it is a classic, so typical and so true i reference it all the time for me i gave it a 3/5 on my goodreads too because halfway through the book PLSDONT FLAME ME FOR THIS i kind ofalready picked up what george orwell was putting down - especially for the ending it was a bit obvious for me PLS DONT GET MAD IM SORRY anw it talks about the oppressive effects of a dictatorship (specifically communist government) and basically talks about how EVERYTHING gets political and even a revolution that looks toward freedom can get blurred when u lose ur ideals that's the main message i got out of this!!

the art of war - i havent finished the art of war yet..sigh.. he rated this a 4/5 and it's fitting since from the reviews ive read it's very strategic and calculated js like luigi so the rating matches with his personality

so sorry that's all the book titles that ive recognized in his roster.. I FEEL SO BEHIND but on a serious note i feel rlly inspired to read more books!! school has been so draining :(( and ive been lacking time to read im trying to light the spark again this year

i saw a lot of philosophy and psychology and self help books (including health about back pain) he's so avid about self-improvement it's stunning

i remember in luigi's reddit too he was very staunch about the fact that when he wanted to bring a book in his backpack it had to be physical and not kindle and he enumerated like 4 points to justify it it was so cute and made me so happy coz i shared the same views as him

oh and i also wanted to mention that luigi is an absolute culture absorber !! so inspiring he reads books about the places he goes to eg. hawaii and based on pictures he's a very openminded social butterfly hehe

luigi is a walking pursuit of wonder. like he read elon musk and the unabomber for specific reasons and i think it's because he was curious to find out the mindset of these people that yk he doesnt exactly idolize to euphonize it at least.. so if we wanna find out what type of person luigi is i think itd be good to judge that based on the books he's read def since it's what he's been exposed to/chosen to be exposed to so if anyone who has read the same books as he has u can always anon message me/make a post hehe i find his mind so interesting!! i love u so much!! i hope you're doing amazing!! good luck at uni!! (not that ur gonna need it hehe) sending so much love and admiration!! i mean poli sci??? now we need a standing ovulation for that. love u so much!!

OMFG I LOVE THIS SM!!!! I find it so interesting the array of books he’s read! he definitely doesn’t conform to one genre of books. especially in his tbr goodreads shelf he had a book about female pleasure….. we love a man who can read! haha

his post about not having a kindle and rather a physical book makes me giggle! I previously shared the same views, because nothing compares to holding the actual real book! But I now have a kindle and it has changed my reading habits completely! he would definitely be a lil suspicious if his so read on a kindle, because why choose a device over real writing on a page???

I definitely agree with you that reading can be so draining and book slumps are inevitable! I always try to set reading goals but I rarely accomplish them lol. do you think that luigi always set a goodreads yearly reading goal too? I wonder what his goal was set to!

I genuinely have such a smile on my face reading these replies ahhh!!!! ily <3

[prissyhs]

Never Meet Your Heroes • Chris Sturniolo

I’d never meant for it to happen. I just wanted him to notice me. Once. The fame and attention was only meant to be a temporary bonus. If any.

The goal was simple. Post a TikTok everyday until Chris Sturniolo commented. The first time I’d done it was literally a joke. It was me doing some stupid dance to Freak Hoe by Speaker Knockerz. The point of my plan was to do a song that Chris liked or had mentioned liking before, for every video. The caption read “Posting a TikTok everyday until my celebrity crush comments.” People were supposed to guess until he actually commented.

But that’s not exactly what happened. I kind of, for the lack of better words, went viral. People really enjoyed the concept of using different songs as hints and not to brag but, people really liked me. I was getting comments from so many different celebrities, which was also bringing more people to my page because they thought it was hilarious when I had to reject yet another celebrity because it was never him. It got to a point where I genuinely believed he was actively ignoring me. I had gained 8 million TikTok followers, surpassing him! It was comical at this point that he hadn’t commented. I was running out of songs and patience.

I was getting brand deals, invites to LA, and so much more. For a girl from a no-named town in the middle of nowhere; it was like a dream.

I couldn’t enjoy it though. For one, Chris still hadn’t commented. Second, what happens when he does? Does my five minutes of fame end? I go back to being nobody again. That was a sinking feeling I wouldn’t let into my mind. I refused to think about the what ifs? Or the future, at all for that matter.

The comment sections of my videos were just embarrassing at this point. Every single person had guessed it and I …couldn’t tell them yet. But everyone knew.

I had a secret weapon though. Something that was definitely going to work. I had saved Lil Skies for last. I hadn’t used a single one of his songs because I was afraid it’d be too obvious. Plus, to be honest, I didn’t really know any of his songs. The only one I knew was RAGE! and that was only because of Chris.

I wanted this one to be good too. Like, creative and having lots of camera angles. So, I recruited my little sister for the camerawork. She was surprisingly good at filming. I put on one of my best outfits that accentuated my body in a pleasing way. Because let’s face it; that’s what most of my audience is looking at. I also do my hair and makeup. I can’t even deny it; I looked really fucking good.

After it was all said and done, I watched the video over and over. I wanted to be sure because if it was true and he hadn’t seen me yet, this could be his first impression of me. I highly doubt he hasn’t though. I just don’t understand why he’s holding out on me.

I took a deep breath and posted the video. Captioning it, ‘This is getting ridiculous now. If he doesn’t comment on this one, I give up.” Within seconds, thousands of likes and comments came in. I read them as fast as I could.

NOOOO PLS CHRIS COMMENT

WTF CHRIS

it’s so obviously chris it’s like crazy atp

You’re soooooo hot my God

#needthat

Raw. Next question

The comments from random men truly and utterly disgusted me. When girls commented, it never bothered me. I loved it and it made me feel confident but the men’s comments just made me feel…dirty. I scrunched my face up and decided that was enough comments for tonight. I click my phone off and call my dog to come lay down with me. I went to sleep that night thinking of an imaginary world where Chris and I met and fell in love. Pathetic but it helped me fall asleep.

The next morning I woke up to my roommate, Piper, busting through my door. Scaring me and my dog. I jumped up as she started yelling.

“Y/N! Wake the fuck up right now! You finally did it!” She basically screamed as she clutched her phone in her hand.

“What?!” I scream back, still breathing heavy from her abrupt wake up call.

“He commented! Chris commented! Go look!” She jumped up and down in place and I felt dizzy with how fast I whipped around to grab my phone on the nightstand.

I unlocked it and wiped my eyes as they were still blurry from sleeping. I clicked on TikTok and felt my skin buzzing and heart racing as it loaded. After what felt like hours, my own profile popped up and I clicked on my most recent video. It felt like time slowed down as I clicked the comments. There it was. The most liked comment. Christopher Sturniolo.

I was waiting on you to use Skies

“What the fuck?” I spoke my thoughts out loud. I don’t really know what I expected him to say but that wasn’t it. I mean, I felt cheated. I’d spend the last month humiliating myself for the world to see to get his attention only to find out it was because of my song choices? Infuriating, to say the least.

“Everyone is saying he followed you though..” Piper tries to soften the blow since she can clearly see I’m not happy.

And I know that isn’t fair. I had my hopes entirely too high and I should be grateful he even commented. But damn, man. His response fucking sucked. So much so that I felt the need to tell him. Which I guess I could do now that he follows me back.

“Good, because I need to say something..” My fingers worked quickly as I slid onto his profile, clicking the little message button. I immediately clicked the message box to start typing away until I seen it.

He had already messaged me.

Hey I’m flattered by your posts and really enjoyed this entire experience.

Now that I got that out of the way, are you trying to link or what? 😁

Once again, I felt disappointed. I know I was being delusional about what he might want with me but it definitely didn’t sound like friendship or love. It sounded like he probably just wanted to fuck. Which deeply upset me. Enraged me, actually. So, I respond quickly.

really? that’s it?

I clicked my phone off and laid back in the bed, laying my arm over my face. I groan in frustration. He’s only a man. Why did I expect better?

“Are you okay?” Piper asked and came to sit next to me on the bed at the same time a buzz came from my phone. I sat up immediately and was shocked to seen he’d already replied.

What were you expecting? A proposal? 😭

“Oh my God, he’s an asshole!” I show Piper the message and she covers her mouth quickly to stifle her laugh. I glare at her.

“I’m sorry! His response was just kind of funny..” She said and I rolled my eyes before responding.

wow

you’re kind of a dick. ngl

His response was immediate, making it clear that he was staying on the messages.

Bro you don’t even know me

And there it was. The truth hurt worse than anything. He was one hundred percent right but it didn’t make his lack of appreciation any less shitty. He’s gained a lot of attention from my videos as well.

you’re so right. and now i don’t even want to.

Oh noooo ☠️☠️

“I hate him..” I say out loud as I try to think of something to say back, “I don’t know what to say to him, Piper.”

“Be the bigger person, Y/N..” She tells me and it was really hard but eventually I decided she was right and that was the better option.

chris, i was a really big fan of you and your brothers. but especially you. i thought you’d be different and maybe that was my mistake. i waited over a month for your reply and it sucked. then i open my messages to your other lame ass reply. i hope you understand i meant well with my posts and wanted to make you laugh maybe or compliment you. sorry if i was annoying.

“I’m sorry, babe. They say don’t meet your heroes..” Piper tells me and I scoff.

“No kidding..” I laugh.

My phone buzzed again.

You’re right, I was being a dick. I’m sorry.

I didn’t know what to say tbh

I felt so much pressure to say something cool when I finally replied that I fumbled completely and looked dumb asf

Would you be willing to fly out to meet me and my brothers as an apology?? That was my plan anyways

—————-

AN: Plssss be gentle this is my first post ever…I’m nervous asffff LMAO

What do you guys think??

Lowk Chris is an ASS in this but it’s how I pictured it. Should I make a pt. 2 or literally never write again hahahahaha

I have a lot of plans for this if you guys wanted me to continue

[santaclaushohoho1]

i wish sleeping still reset everything but it fucking doesnt and i just have to live with this feeling now

[me-beef]

A collection of Fell art I don't think I've ever posted before. This is all art I've made in the last year, those first pics being done in January/February-ish? It's been fun to see how much my art has developed since then :) So, something I'm sure I've mentioned before, I have RSD- or rejection sensitive dysphoria. For the last decade or so, it's controlled a large portion of my life and has dictated a lot of what I've been able to do. It used to be a lot worse- like, eating-lunch-alone-in-the-bathroom-everyday-at-school-because-I'd-have-a-panic-attack-if-I-tried-to-go-into-the-cafeteria type of bad. Or, having-a-panic-attack-because-a-girl-complimented-my-socks-and-I-was-CERTAIN-she-was-actually-implying-I-was-a-stupid-idiot-loser-baby type of bad. It's made it really hard to make friends and maintain relationships, because a part of my brain truly believes the people around me don't want me there, or that it's better for me to be quiet and out of the way than to risk doing something "wrong" and drawing the ire of everyone around me. It was something that I was really ashamed of for the longest time. I didn't understand what I was feeling or why I acted the way that I did, I just wanted everyone around me to be happy and I felt like I was doing everything wrong and making everything worse just by being present in any given situation.

So- what ended up working for me? How did I start moving forward? Years of counseling and therapy? Yeah. Medication? That too. But do you want to know what really ended up changing my life this year? I made a character to conceptualize and encapsulate all of my anxieties and traumas, took my condition, and made it her superpower. This is already getting long, so I'll add some bits about her character under the cut:

In a ⋆˙⟡dramatic⋆˙⟡ and ⋆˙⟡tragic⋆˙⟡ childhood event, Fell's heart was fused with a star. It sounds like a magical-girl dream- but for Fell, it's only ever been a curse. Whenever her emotions flare, she has an uncontrollable surge of magic. Sometimes, that wild magic can scare or even hurt the people around her. She's become terrified of her own emotions- and that fear only exacerbate her "curse". So, she isolates herself- not out of a fear of others, but out of a fear of hurting those around her. When I was a kid, there weren't really any characters out there that I felt like I could truly identify with. Sure, I've seen social anxiety addressed in media throughout my life, but nothing that I felt really captured the full complexities of what I was experiencing in my day-to-day. Plus, I feel like those characters rarely got to be the heroes of the story. So, all that to say, Fell is the hero that I wish I had gotten to have as a kid. Starlight Saga (working title), or Legends of ZahKol, is the story and world that I built around the lessons I've learned in my journey of overcoming my anxiety and RSD. I can't give that to my past self, but my dream is to one day share it with the world- for other people out there like me, to help them and give them hope and let them know how strong they really are for fighting day in and day out. That these parts of yourself don't mean you're broken or damaged or wrong- these are tied to the most resilient, most beautiful parts of who you are.

[becauseplot]

Anyway for entirely justifiable reasons (<-is a glutton for angst) I need Chayanne and Tallulah to be present when the hummingbirds come around or a note about the 'wise old crow' appears in their house, causing qPhil to have one of his derealization/reality-questioning episodes. I need it. I need it to happen SO bad. Because they’ve seen Phil get roughed up in a fight, they’ve seen him angry, they’ve seen him wary and even nervous, but they have NEVER seen him doubt like that.

People have already made posts talking about how the cage-for-a-cage/child-of-the-sky stuff has been particularly rough on qPhil, who relies heavily on his constant vigilance, keen senses, and hyper-awareness of his surroundings for reassurance. He's the kind of guy who walks into a room and has already charted at minimum two escape routes by the time he takes a seat, you know? He sees and processes and stores information on everything, at all times, and he uses this to act in the best interest of his and his loved ones' collective survival.

His kids see this side of him too, most significantly in the ways that he looks after them: always keeping an eye on the back of the group, never far from Tallulah, and constantly analyzing Chayanne's fighting style to give helpful critique to optimize his attacks. Chayanne and Tallulah know that everything he's ever done was to protect them. Also, he's always there to offer them advice when they're feeling lost, and even if he doesn't have all the answers they need, he gives enough reassurances and promises to put their minds at ease. Phil is confident in what he knows. In their eyes, he is strong. He is a fortress, safe and impenetrable.

You could say that about a lot of children's perceptions of their parents/guardians/mentors. The older, guiding forces in our lives always seemed strong and infallible to us as kids. That's why it was always unnerving to see them get sick, or get stressed, or cry. Observing weakness in those people felt so, so wrong because we never considered the fact that they were capable of it; it was just impossible.

So, the situation: Phil is suffering in a way that makes him question the very same reality that he was a master of not too long ago. Whenever it happens, he goes quiet, looks around, mutters to himself, breathes shakily, fidgets. He is visibly unnerved and uncertain.

If Chayanne and Tallulah are there, they're gonna notice---they're perceptive, just like him. I'd imagine they'd try to ask him if he's okay, and he'd reassure them that he's fine, and maybe that's enough the first time. But, as more incidents arise, and as time goes on, they start to see more of this out-of-nowhere uneasiness, fear, from him, which is worrying, especially because he won't tell them why.

NOW. Phil has been upfront about a lot of things with Chayanne and Tallulah in the past. For example, during the height of the code attacks, Phil told them everything he ever learned about the codes, every single new development, to ensure that his kids were well informed and prepared. He was frank about the threat on their lives because to sugar-coat anything would be doing them a disservice. It was important they knew all of the cold, hard facts, even if it took away even more of their precious childhood innocence. He values their happiness, but safety comes first. It has always come first.

But this is different. It's not cold hard facts. Phil doesn't know what to believe anymore. When the hummingbirds come around and his reality comes into question, he doesn't know what is real, what he can trust, what is fact. His senses have been compromised. Hell, he's still trying to convince himself that he's not going crazy when all evidence seems to suggest that he's losing his goddamn mind. He doesn't know what to tell his kids, so he tells them nothing.

So now here stands Chayanne and Tallulah. There is something that is scaring their dad, and he won't tell them what is, so on top of the knowledge that their unwavering father is, in fact, capable of true, genuine fear, he's suddenly keeping things from them. Their dad is keeping things from them because he is scared. And I can't imagine a realization more terrifying than that.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

hello!! i just want to tell you that your art is so goddamn scrumptious, you are literally feeding my xmen brainrot and I find myself smiling when i see your art come across my feed. I love how you draw charles, pretty privilege and post (lets be fr he's serving every time)

i hope you always have fantastic brainrot and id kiss your blessed hands for giving us the gift of cherik and charles xavier, you are literally an icon

hope you have a great day ahead of you and more!! you deserve it !!

well i'ma absolutely have a wonderful mornin after readin this AWWWW thank you so so much !!!! i haven't been postin xmen long, so it's been really heartwarmin seein the warm reception to my work in the wonderful tags people have been leavin on my posts- and especially gettin to answer the lovely asks y'all've been sendin in (❁´ ▽ `❁) !! im glad people also like my goofy text posts and esp quotes from my brother he really has no right being so funny at the most random times

i hope to be xmen posting a while: ive got at least 60 years worth of stuff to look through and ongoing, so i dont imagine my interest'll wane anytime soon :]] !!

[sodaf]

being mentally ill is so cool

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Talia saying Jason with 24 hours and a survival kit, fresh from the pit, couldn't be tracked by Ra's is interesting

And oopsies I liveblogged all of lost days in the tags of this post

[lunarharp]

er... extreme amount of dragon age: the veilguard scribbles to soothe my heart🐦‍⬛💀

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

[mako-island-moon-pool]

You want to know how bad my memory is?

I was writing last night and I just straight up forgot that Sanji exists. I have been watching this show since 2012, he was my fave Strawhat outside of Luffy pre-TS, and I FORGOT HE EXISTED.

I was like 'hm yes well the ones who would understand are Nami and Robin... W- wasn't there one more I was thinking of a moment ago? Wasn't there another one who'd Get It?????'

'it's not Chopper. Definitely not Usopp. And it's not Zoro. That's all the remaining Strawhats at this point in the story. So... Why am I convinced I'm forgetting someone? Let's go through the arcs in my head agai- OH MY GOD, I FORGOT SANJI'

[sourkitsch]

Two things that are true at once:

I am not nearly as mentally ill as I’ve convinced myself I am

I am far sicker than I’ve convinced my friends that I am

[themslash]

here's the thing. i'm on literally 0 hours of sleep so hear me out. i fucked my pinterrst algo beyond saving looking at "ai art" spotting the telltale signs but also looking at them is like watching a car crash. hard to look away. the longer i look at generated architecture and fantasy environment paintings the more obvious it becomes that they lack the human touch. and i can see every real, human artist's effort that it cannibalized. the hundreds of thousands of hours of work and study and true understanding and knowledge of how bricks and wood and fabric and live plants and so on and so forth work. fed into a fucking wood chipper. fed into the tubby custard machine and it spits out . well. custard. are you listening