#my reference photo was one of the ones where will's like half naked on the porch which kept making me laugh

[notnickel]

Sometimes at night, I leave the lights on in my little house, and walk across the flat fields. When I look back from a distance, the house is like a boat on the sea. It’s really the only time I feel safe.

[solbaby7]

Make You Feel Something

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: sexual tension, some anxious themes, probably typos, some swearing, and two best friends—they might kiss

summary: You paint a certain Shadowsinger like one of those French girls

[ inspired by that quote “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect, it’s supposed to make you feel something.]

—

“Just stay still.”

“I don’t know—I feel like I’m not doing this right.”

You sigh, a soft smile stretching across your features watching Azriel attempt to stop his fidgeting. “You’re doing perfect, just get comfortable and lay there—I’ll do the rest.”

The paper was thick, a little yellowed but the charcoal in your hand seems to enjoy such conditions. Your back settles into the plush cushions on the couch, a throw pillow tucked against your thighs and every now and then you glance over the sketchbook to peer over at the partially bared body before you. “What’s this for anyway?”

“Practice,” You mumble, clearly distracted when roughly outlining the shape of him, the throne of a seat he was splayed over, shirtless with his fighting leathers hanging dangerously low on his hips and large wings shuffled behind him. “Why are you so nervous? You’ve been shirtless around me a million times.”

His left arm shifts again before you can draw the outline of it. “No one’s ever painted me before.”

“Technically, I haven’t gotten to the painting part yet. This will eventually become my reference photo for that.” The words don’t soothe him how you’d hoped and after a while Az is moving enough to have you settling down the charcoal, eyes sliding to his own. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know where to put my hands.” The shadowsinger sheepishly admits, looking more boyish than you’d seen him in centuries. Dark hair falls over his forehead and judging by the neat lines along the perimeter of his head, Az had recently gotten a haircut.

He attempts to hide his hands, tucking them behind his head or shoving them under pillow until you make a move to shuffle off the couch and finally it all makes sense. The fidgeting wasn’t because your best friend laid half-naked before you but the creeping insecurity of his scars ruining the final product. “Lay like this,” Azriel’s like putty in your grasp, malleable and easy to guide when you shift one leg to casually drape over the arm rest. He’s at a bit of an angle but the way you position him gives off attractive arrogance, effortless masculinity mixed with a boyish charm. “They’re beautiful,” Your voice is filled with uncapped love, lips soft when you take both of his hands in your own and press a kiss on the back of each. “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect—it’s supposed to make you feel something.”

Hazel eyes take you in, memorizing the slight furrow of your brow as you make a few final adjustments; his hands on full display while you mumble under your breath, something about the lighting and your nose scrunches a little when his shadows tickle at your cheeks. “What do they make you feel?”

There’s a brief pause and you can’t make eye contact for a few seconds, fearful that if you did your resolve would break and you’d be too busy trying to take his clothes off to worry about the poor beginnings of your drawing. “I couldn’t tell you honestly without ruining our friendship,” His brow quirks, throat bobbing with a gulp. “—but if I didn’t like them I wouldn’t have asked you to model for me.” Relief spreads when a smile tugs at his mouth, head dipping down to hide the warmth that blooms at his cheeks when you waggle your brows at him. He’s much more relaxed when you return to your seat, a slow breath releasing from you as you twist your neck, fingers gripping around the charcoal once more and Azriel can’t seem to take his sights away from you.

Painted toes wiggle softly at the edge of the cushions, bare knees drawn up and your hair is gathered in a ponytail. You hum when you focus, some song Azriel’s never heard of before seeming to aid in alleviating the self-consciousness and pleasantly distracting his brain. Five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen before Azriel breaks the silence, being sure to keep his body exactly as you’d placed it. “What’s that song?”

“Not sure,” His body was an artists dream, all hard lines and alarmingly perfect symmetry; the golden light casting through the room, scattering moody shadows along the angles of Az’s face and your thighs clench slightly when you’re forced to pay such close attention to the plush curve of his mouth. “My mom used to sing it when I was really little—can’t remember all of it but it calms me down.”

“You’ve seen me shirtless a million times, what’s there to be nervous about?” Your eyes roll at his harmless teasing, huffing at the way he’d thrown your words back at you and it’s become increasingly harder than you make it look to get a fucking grip on your body’s reaction to him.

The response is instinctual, fingers rubbing the page to soften edges and your brain wanders to what it would be like for real. “You’re not exactly hard on the eyes and I’m not used to having a reason for examining your body for this long.” The warmth of his skin beneath your hands. The free will to travel the contours of his muscles and kiss each and every scar, ripple and divot formed by countless hours of training and dedication. He’s easy to draw when you spend so much time oggling, bottom lip caught between your teeth when mimicking the lines of his abdomen, the inky trail of hair that disappeared beneath dark grey fabric. “It’s truly annoying how perfect you are—could probably get some sort of sexual gratification from how satisfying it is to draw you.”

There’s no room for embarrassment when Az is so easy-going, the same laugh you’d always yearned for pulling from his throat and you have to swat away a few creeping shadows from sneaking a peek before the final result. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s true,” The fireplace crackles behind you, a warm glow filling the room and kissing at the exposed skin of the model before you. Sharp jaw, soft smile; the hard line of his brows smoothed out by the light in his eyes—like sweet honey and sunshine. “I’ve never once drawn someone like you.”

“I’d hope not.” Azriel’s head tilts just a little, brows furrowed in thought. “Who else do you ask to get half-naked for the sake of practice?”

He’s fully aware of how it sounds—the jealousy lacing his tongue and you have to pull your hands away from the paper a moment before the slight tremble threatened to ruin the flow of the strands of hair you’d been steadily shaping around his head. “Not many seeing as I usually prefer painting models that are nude. I figured for the sake of our friendship I’d spare you.”

“Spare me?” He scoffs in a way that reminds you of Rhys, a little cocky and entirely too confident. “I’m not sure your heart would’ve taken seeing me nude. Certainly, it was me doing you the favor keeping the rest of my clothes on.”

Azriel’s skin goes hot at your lack of response, gaze sliding thoroughly over the length of his body from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes and a slow smile appears. “You sound awfully confident,” You shift in place, adjusting your legs and stretching out to see him better. “Take it off then.”

His mouth parts, words caught in his throat for a few beats of time before letting out a breath. His hands hesitate before untying the leathers and shimmying them down his thighs. There’s no hiding the desire that clouds your vision when taking in the simple black material that held snug against his cock. His thumbs hook in the waistband, shoving them down and tossing them aside.

It’s not the most simple task to tweak at the preexisting sketch, snuffing out dark lines and fading them into the background enough to make it easier to map out the thick lines of his thighs and calves—the generous length hanging confidently between it all. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

“Should I not have? Are you uncomfortable?”

Your head shakes in denial, brows furrowed in focus and Azriel can’t place how it feels to be looked at as a specimen rather than a person. Your gaze is admirably respectful, quick glances with your tongue peeking through when perfecting soft lines and adding shading here and there. “Believe it or not, I couldn’t be more relaxed.”

He believes it too, your heartbeat is steady and controlled, limbs perfectly lax and Azriel is more than grateful for the view when you’re all laid out; sleep clothes shifting with each move and desire burns in his belly when you flick your ponytail off your shoulder, exposing the curve of your neck. “Where do you plan on putting this?”

“Nowhere, it’s private.” For viewing pleasure only, for those late nights when picking up a random male from Rita’s didn’t quite scratch the itch. “Once the painting is finished I’ll give it to you and keep the sketch for my portfolio.” You move on to his wings, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth when you slide from the cushions, bare toes sinking into the throw rug when you stand before him. “Can you put those up higher?” Azriel complies with ease, craning his wings higher but the furrow of your brow doesn’t subside. “Spread them a little.” Your head shakes when he moves and you reach up, fingers millimeters away before glancing down at him. “May I touch?”

He should’ve said no—maintaining some sort of boundary because drawing him naked was one thing but standing before him asking to touch; all the resolve in the world wouldn’t be able to save him. Azriel’s mouth opens, intent on saying no but by some sick sense of self-indulgence he nods in agreement, eyes fluttering shut when the scent of your shampoo enters his space. Warm skin grazes his own and while the shadowsinger is a tense mess beneath you, you’re the picture of serinity, completely in your element when carefully adjusting the membranous wings how you pleased. He tries to hold it back but your hands are so soft and the rough groan that fills the silence has goosebumps raising.

“You can feel all of that?”

Azriel traces a finger up the outer side of your thigh, pausing at the hem of your shorts. “Can you feel that?”

“Right, stupid question.” Maybe you linger longer than necessary, tracing over a texture you’d never felt before; not leathery, softer than that but just as sturdy. Warm to the touch and they shudder when you smooth over the thin seam at top that fused everything together. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m flattered, really,” His voice is strained, hands clenched in tight fists and when you glance down past inky strands, his cock is standing at attention against his stomach. “—but I think you’re overestimating my self-control.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not unless you asked me to.”

The swallow you force down is audible, hands shaky when you tuck them back at your sides but you don’t make a move to step away this time. Instead, you stand before him, fingers coated in charcoal and there’s a little smeared at your collarbone. His hand is up and touching before common sense can deter him; pure fire burns beneath each fleeting touch, knuckles grazing at the curve of your jaw and there’s no hiding the rising beat of your heart when he wipes your skin clean. “Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” His head falls back, words low and barely contained. The hands he pulls away keep drawing back like a magnet, touching greedily at the sides of your thighs and stopping at your waist. “I’m supposed to be helping you and my thoughts are not very helpful.”

Years of denying himself the simple pleasure of touch and the powerhouse of a male on the battlefield is reduced to a simpering baby, grappling for more touch, more of your silky clothes shifting against his skin and the sweet smell of vanilla and cocoa, sugar cookies and warm milk filling his nose when he pulled you in closer. Better judgement makes you wonder if you should pull away, find a way to comfort him and keep it friendly but the more distance that closes between you the more of that hard length you begin to feel against you. “Az—“ He doesn’t let the warning fully come to life, hands twisting behind the back of your knees until you’re sat above him, resting on bare thighs and your hands brace at his shoulders.

“I know,” Azriel repeats it over and over under his breath, face buried in the dip of your throat, mouth grazing at the sensitive skin there and the little whimper he draws from you has that hard cock between you twitching against your stomach. “I thought I could handle it but you just feel so fucking good.”

It was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Shit like this never ended well; mixing fucking and friendship but while you kept thinking no your body stubbornly arched into his touch. You bared more of your throat to him when he buries his nose there, taking in your smell while he memorized the feel of you. The slope of your shoulders, the flare of your ribs and the soft curve of your stomach. You grind onto him, searching for more friction when Azriel follows the length of your legs down then up to cup the fat of your ass. “Take it off.”

You feel weak; too captivated to acknowledge your backbone when you tug the shirt from your head and throw it somewhere behind you. His mouth is insatiable when pressing kisses to every inch of exposed flesh, holding you closer with each breathy moan and whispered plea for more, more, more. Nothing could’ve prepared you for his mouth finally slotting over your own.

Azriel’s careful now, slow and attentive, maintaining a pace as you got to know one another in ways you’d only thought about when you’d snuffed out the fire for the night and shuffled under the covers, fingers hiked up your nightgown for a few minutes of uninterrupted pleasure. He groans into your mouth when tongues touch, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

You hand slides between the two of you, wrapping around the stiff length of him and the moan he lets out has him sinking back into the chair. Preening under the attention you continue, gaze locked on the half-lidded hazel eyes before you, his arms flexing at his sides, hands holding onto your thighs for stability because your hands were so soft, holding him so firmly and the steady drags up and down was enough to have his thoughts muddled and hips bucking up into your touch. Swears spill from his mouth like prayers, pleading and begging for you to keep going and watching him crumble beneath you was a greater high than any smokes or powders. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You look good under me,” Draped across a throne like some entitled High Lord finally receiving his birthweight as promised. “You close already?” Azriel’s cock throbs in your hands, pre-cum oozing from his slit and the thumb that curls to swipe over it is torturous. “Poor Illyrian baby—I’ve barely even touched you yet.” A cruel laugh accompanies the choppy breaths and hazel eyes kept falling victim to the backs of his lids. “The High Lords spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. A great warrior with seven Syphons to hold onto all that power and here you are,” Your pace speeds up, pure feminine satisfaction building when watching such manly power submit beneath a woman. “—falling apart just for me.”

You feel his release coating your palm and you use it for better slip when you keep going, riding out his pleasure until he’s pulling your hands away, chest heaving.

He watches you slip from his lap while he catches his breath, catching a towel tossed his way for the mess. “Clean up for me, I need to finish this before the lanterns burn out.”

Azriel doesn’t listen though, rising from the throne and clearing the distance between you in no more than three steps and his mouth is right back on your own.

Fuck it, some of the best art was left unfinished anyway.

[woodswallow]

RammWear

As I once stated in this post, I feel close to my favourite Rammstein members Richard, Paul and Schneider when I wear clothes that are inspired by their (stage) outfits. I love wearing my R+-merch of course, but for me this is a more subtle and everyday-method to have a bit of them with me :)

So, over the past 3 years, I was inspired by their style, bought clothes (sometimes secondhand) that resembled theirs and tried to mimic their style. Of course not every part – I only wanted stuff that I really liked, not for the sake of imitating them. I wanted clothes that are also MY style, but are inspired by theirs.

So lovely @vulnerant-omnes gave me the idea to do a little RammWear fashion-show, where I am showing my „ot3 <3“-style. Here's a first part of it:

First: My Richard-stage belt :D Daaamn, I LOVE it so, sooo much and I'm so proud of me that I found something, that resembles his stage-belts so nicely, but having also a bit more of a alternative/boho-style to it. It's real leather and is purely decorative, so not a real „belt“ - but it does accentuate the butt quite nicely – just like Richards ;D

Here's a reference picture, in case someone doesn't know what I'm talking about:

Second: My hommage to the Paul Landers stage outfit!

My god, I love his stage outfit so damn much! It fits him so well and in my opinion is very flattering to his body. I love all the pouches and the decorations, it has a very unique „industrial-/end of the world-style“, like from another planet. I searched for ages to find something that resembled this outfit and especially the pants. I found the original designer (Demobaza – damn cool, incredibly expensive!) and also a copy of that, which was „only“ half the price, so still damn expensive...and it didn't fit right, I was so sad... but I took some pictures anyway. So these are the copied stage pants, I send them back because they were too tight on my stomach:

But then I found a very nice second hand biker jacket in sweatshirt style. When I wear it with my favourite grey jeans, it gives me some Paul-Landers-stage-outfit-vibes...what do you think? It's definitely not a copy, far from that. But I'd say it's a low budget hommage, very my style and definitely made for everyday wear – which was very important for me. I don't want to buy stuff which looks great but I never wear. My mum complimented me on that jacket and I really love it :D

Third: My Schneider-necklace and Richard-ring!

Schneider has worn this necklace for years now. I saw it on him during concerts, photo shoots and even on private pictures. It must mean something to him. And I personally am a big fan of jewellery that is with you everyday, that you never take off. Like it's belonging to you. I have the feeling it's like that with Schneider and this necklace. I did some research about the type of necklace, it seems to be an anchor chain. Mine is made of titanium, very lightweight. I love the grey, not shiny colour and how it's unisex looking, not too feminine but also not too massive or "manly".

In the picture is also my Richard-ring. You probably/maybe know this very early VIVA-interview from 1995:

There the cameraperson has a really weird way of filming, and once he/she zooms on Richards hand. I noticed that ring and liked it very much, I think it suits Richard very well. Unfortunately I've never seen it on him again. But still, he wore it at that time. I found a similar one, it has some ornaments that his doesn't have, but I really love that ring – have worn it for almost 2,5 years straight now, everyday and I feel naked without it.

Please let me know if you're interested in seeing more like this (a „like“ on this post counts for me ;). I have some more R+-inspired pieces and could make another one or two posts :) !

[lizzieislife94x]

Road Trip (e.o)

Lizzie x G!P reader

If you want any requests just message me

Lizzies POV:

"Let's go hoooooe" I beep my horn over and over waiting for my bestfriend y/n she takes so fucking long this bitch she literally said I'm ready come pick me up and she's not ready I love her but sometimes I wanna strangle her "ugh finally I've been waiting 10 minutes" I huff turning to her as she laughs "calm your panties lizzies let's get this show on the road I'm so excited" she leans over to hug me as I pretend I don't want her too she's so fucking beautiful I love to spend as much time with her as possible so 16 hours on the road alone in the car is perfect, she's had my heart for the last 5 years I've never had the courage to do anything about I don't wanna ruin our friendship I love her to much but I can't help but constantly check her out "ok I forgive you loser let's go, I'll drive the first few hours then we can find somewhere to chill and sleep then you take the next few hours tomorrow and so on" I explain we could easily do the 16 hours in one go but this trip is about us spending a few days together because we don't get to see each other often "that sounds perfect lizzie" she smiles sweetly god her smile, we start our drive talking and enjoying each other company laughing like mad men

 Y/ns POV:

"No way your boss said that??" She asks in complete shock I can't help but giggle "yeah he did can you believe he thought I wanted to sleep with him I've worked there for 3 years and the idiot hasn't realised I'm into women" I say smirking at lizzie "yeah no offence y/n all anyone has to do is spent 20 minutes with you to know your a lady lover" she says in a flirty tone I laugh and sigh leaning my head back against the head rest, yes lizzie I'm completely for the ladies but I only want you, I think as I would never tell her that I don't want to lose her and if I let my stupid feelings get in the way I'd lose her she'd never speak to me again "hey give me your phone I wanna put music on" I say as I rest my hand on hers andshe smiles "its right there y/n" she says pointing down to where the drinks sit, I grab her phone and unlock it "awh we are so fucking cute" I say referring to the photo of us as her lockscreen and I think she's blushing "we still have 2 hours to go wanna stop and get some food and blankets and pillows" she smiles at me "yessssss babes sounds like a plan to me" I jump excitedly in my seat and she giggles at my antics we pull in to Mcdonalds and get some food after half an hour we walk over to target to get blankets and pillows "ohhh lizzie we should get snacks for watching Netflix" I suggest "that's actually a great idea" we grab lots of snacks and drinks and I grab a box of tissues incase lizzie needs to pee "let's go find the perfect spot to set up by the time we get there the sun should just be setting " I say in a calm tone "mmh I love the sunset its so beautiful " lizzie says as I pack the stuff into the car

we spend the remaining 2 hours in a comfortable silence occasionally chatting about stuff that we could watch, we've settled for big momma and big momma 2 she always gets her way but fuck she's so precious I could never say no to her, we find the perfect spot and park up with a perfect view of the sunset I grab her hand as we sit and watch it until it disappears "let's get the car all cosy and we can set up the movie" I whisper as I get out and open the back doors and put the back seats down and fix a few blankets down so we're comfortable I then fix the pillows and grab a few blankets to cover us "everything's ready ma'am just need your laptop" I say smiling as lizzie gets into the back smiling "this is beautiful y/n" I blush and look down "I'm going to get stripped I normally sleep naked but obvs I'm not over the next few days so is it OK if I wear my boxers and sports bra?" I question shyly and she giggles "of course that's fine y/n same here as long as you don't mind me in my bra and panties" I gulp and blush at the thought "no uh thats fine" I whisper nervously and strip my clothes off leaving me in my boxers and sports bra I climb into the back and get under the covers after a few minutes lizzie joins me as I set the laptop up and play the movie.

Lizzies POV:

Fuck I'm trying to focus on the movie but I can't y/n is half naked laying right against me thank god she fell asleep because I'm panicking here "mmh there fuck.." wait a minute is she moaning Holy fucking shit I notice the blanket poking up and instantly lift it to look under fuck she has a hard on yep she was definitely moaning "fuck lizzie..take it ju..st like that" I instantly freeze was she moaning my name fuck I feel the wetness instantly pooling in my panties "lizzie..uhhh god yy..es" the sound of her moaning my name alone is enough to make me cum fuck, I need to wake her up "hey y/n wake up babe y/n" I whisper shaking her as she wakes up and opens her eyes wide as she sees me "oh hey lizzie is everything ok what time is it " god  even her saying my name now I'm only gonna think of her moaning it 

Y/ns POV:

I woke up and instantly knew I had a hard on shit I hope she doesn't see it I had a sex dream about lizzie it's nothing new but I freaked out inside when she woke me up because I've never had a sex dream about her while she's laying beside me I move a little and try to hide my dick "where you dreaming about me" I freeze as the words leave her mouth how does she know "you where moaning alot and you moaned my name" she says as if she read my mind "I'm so sorry liz I had no control over my dream please don't hate me" she giggles and pulls the blankets off and climbs ontop of me oh god what is happening "oh shut up and do something about it" I smirk and unclip her bra letting her perfect tits fall out I automatically latch my mouth around her nipple as she grinds into my raging hard on "fuck lizzie that feels amazing" i moan against her nipple as she continues "lizzie you are fucking soaked I groan" she blushes and looks into my eyes "how do you know y/n" I smirk and bite my lip "your pussy is that wet its soaked my boxers I can feel it on my cock " i tease kissing her neck "ugggh just fuck me y/n I've waited to long for this" she moans as I flip us and take my boxers off and slide her panties off fuck the sight of her soaked core is making me harder "mmh fuck you look fucking amazing "I moan as I run my fingers through her wet folds earning a moan for my best friend "put it in y/n fuck me" I moan at her assertion and do as I'm told I line my cock up to her entrance and slide in slowly "fuckkk lizzie you feel so fucking good" I moan pushing my entire length inside the moaning blonde under me "yessss fuck y/n youre so big sh..it" I gave her a minute to adjust before I start thrusting my hips slowly making sure to hit the right spots as I thrust, fuck I never knew my best friend sounded so fucking sexy moaning my name "yes yes yes y/n right...there fuck dont fucking stooop" she screams as I pick up my pace fucking her harder and faster "I'm cummmmming oh holy fucking shit im cumming" she screams out like a pornstar I feel her pussy walls squeeze my cock as I hold back my orgasm and she cums all over my cock "good girl" I moan slowling my thrusts letting her ride out her orgasm "fuck y/n you feel amazing inside me" she pants out her hands gripping my biceps as she tries to steady her breathing, I keep my dick inside her and move her legs over my shoulder "do you have one more lizzie" I moan thrusting slowly leaning down to place a gently kiss on on her lips "mmmh yes definitely baby" she moans "fuck me fuck me please" I start snapping my hips hard and fast as the car shakes like crazy and my best friend screams under me fuck her pussy feels amazing I continue thrusting feeling the orgasm fast approaching "fuck lizzie cum for me I want you to cum for me before I fill your tight little cunt with my seed " I pant out staring into my best friends eyes and all I see is lust and desire "fuck fuck I'm cumming daddyyy" she screams arching her back as I continue to slam my cock deep inside her After one final thrust I start shooting my load deep inside my best friend and it feels amazing I've wanted this for the longest time, I lay beside her panting as I grab her hand "that was amazing lizzie are you on the pill?" I moan looking at her as she turns to me "yes it was amazing no one has ever made me cum that hard and nope im not" she smirks running her finger down my nose biting her lip. 

Well I guess there's a chance I just impregnated my best fried the thought has me biting my lip this woman is something else and god i love her.

AN: just to keep the book up to date if you like it let me know if you want a request message me I do them all right away babes word Count is 1.8k

[stormyoceans]

vv brainrot continuation:

you don’t look like a person in a relationship (do you want to make me think about puentalay right at the 3 min?)

act like idiots in the car

even the roadway they are driving on is pink… no comment. pink cafe, pink sofa, pink table cloth in the hands of porjai, pink flyers on the walls…

what does my voice sound like (guess what I look like)

the way day describes mork’s voice is similar to how talay described what he likes about puen in the bed scene

the way day tries to find out what kind of relationship mork and porjai have is hopelessly referring to vv

scene you drink from a straw and try to breathe normally (gyo, where are you? you have to help porjai!)

p'day, I'm your fan (p'puen, my friend is your fan)

I didn’t think that day was so famous (in another universe I’m a famous actor)

homemade broth (carbonaraaaak)

Mr. Handsome (both of you are going for a long walk in the ass)

soft hands vs soft cheeks

goes to help porjai (goes to help peng)

talking t-shirts (can't miss this time)

drinking day (as sarcastic as talay)

sorry guys, my friend is drunk (tun has a fever). We will try to lie as convincingly as possible (no)

if I sing, you'll admit that I'm handsome (so, this is ep8: I'm directing, can you imagine what I'm telling you. do you like me that much?)

act like the rest of the world doesn't matter in group photos.

not brainrot, but why didn't jimmy lie on sea's shoulder? stolen again.

a drunken bed scene like in the zebra shirt scene (I can't comment on these gays anymore)

viewing a photo on your phone to stare at your crush (there should be KFC chicken crowing around here somewhere)

that moment when day studied the face of the sleeping mork and began to fly away into another universe, I honestly waited for him to pat himself on the cheeks to come to his senses (but then I remembered that his hands were too clean for that) next ep

once again, jimmy's character is half naked and with a towel on his shoulder, he hangs over sea's character. it's a pity that he's wearing a shirt, otherwise the scene with the zebra would have been repeated

why did you spray yourself with so much perfume (fuck you both, I'm tired of you)

tilak (I am traumatized for the rest of my life, I will not recover from this)

sometimes I think, why am I watching this? this is torture, real torture.

PINKYBRAIN WHEN I TELL YOU I SPENT THE ENTIRE EPISODE THINKING OF YOU BECAUSE HOW ARE THESE PARALLELS JUST GROWING IN NUMBER WITH EACH PASSING EPISODE??????? SEEING THEM ALL LISTED DOWN LIKE THIS TRULY MAKES YOU UNDERSTAND JUST HOW UTTERLY INSANE IT IS AND SOME OF THEM ARE SO NOTICEABLE TOO LIKE THE EMBARRASSED SIPPING FROM THE STRAW?????? THE MR. HANDSOME??????? THE ZOOMING IN ON THE FACE OF THE PERSON YOU LOVE??????

AND ON THE OTHER HAND IM FULLY AWARE THAT SOME OF THEM ARE PURELY CASUAL BUT IM SITTING HERE LOSING IT OVER A SIMPLE 'TICK TOCK' ANYWAY

I GUESS IT'S TIME TO ADMIT I MAY HAVE A PROBLEM 😭

for this episode i don't really have much to add tho, you pretty much already pointed out all the parallels that also caught my eye and some i didn't even think about like puen/mork going to help pang/phorjai. i guess the only thing i could say is that the one scene that reminded me of talay describing what he missed about puen was actually the one palm scene at the end because of how it was structured and filmed

ALSO SORRY I KNOW IM NOT ADDING ANYTHING NEW SINCE YOU'VE ALREADY TALKED ABOUT IT BUT I NEED THESE TWO PARALLELS - PUEN/MORK SINGING AND FLIRTING WITH TALAY/DAY IN GROUP PHOTOS - SIDE BY SIDE AS SCREENSHOTS BECAUSE THEY'RE GONNA GET ME INVOLUNTARILY COMMITTED SOON LIKE

MORKDAY IS NEVER GONNA BEAT THE PUENTALAY IN A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE ALLEGATIONS

[thedevotionaltour]

occasionally nightmarish to take reference photos of yourself. im trying to pencil in a pose real quick but needed to see how it would balance and look and so i took one but see im pantsless my room is horrible to look at and i can see my bare body in a mildly awkward pose where im just pretending to hold a box and it's for a school project it's like a dark realm it's so dark in here can anybody hear me. by the way my figure isn't pantsless for my drawing so it isn't like the nightmare of my awkward half naked body in a comic. it is just evil to have to take awkward not great photos of yourself sometimes for the sake of art

[the-iceni-bitch]

Can we pweas get some more of Bobbys brother 🥺

Ok, I think I’m gonna elaborate on the last ask where we met him for the first time and make it a drabble. This is gonna take place after the Bill arc and have Bobby and kitten officially married and living together. I’m also gonna have kitten be referred to in the third person here, just because Ari is going to get his own reader and this will help me keep my own sanity.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, degradation, implied f receiving oral sex), Bobby being a bastard, 18+ only

Ari grinned to himself as he knocked on his brother’s front door, the sound of a dog barking excitedly catching him a little off guard. He could’ve sworn he heard the sound of a woman screaming under the barking, surprisingly not in the way he would have expected a woman to be screaming if she was stuck with Robert, she sounded like she was enjoying herself.

“Oh my god, that dog needs to shut the fuck up!” That sounded like Robert, the man’s voice was pleasant as ever. “I swear to god I’m gonna shoot it one of these days… yeah I put fucking pants on.” The front door ripped open to reveal a wild looking Robert, his hair disheveled like someone had buried their hands in it repeatedly and bites and scratches all over his torso. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and Ari was pretty sure the lower half of his face was coated in slick, it looked wet. “What? Oh fuck no.”

“Christ, is that any way to greet your big brother?” Ari winked before shoving past Robert and strolling into the house, ignoring the man’s displeased growl and tossing his bag aside before heading to grab himself a drink from the bar. “Was that your wife making all that noise? Thought she was a sweet little catholic girl.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Robert was openly snarling at Ari now, his fists clenched at his sides like he was seriously considering using them. “You’re supposed to be on the west coast.”

“Yeah, well… California started to get boring, so I’m back.” Ari jumped when a massive shepherd came trotting into the room and stood beside Robert, trying to hide a grin when the animal nudged started his hand and his brother mindlessly scratched its ear. “When did you get a dog?”

“It’s not my dog.” Robert seemed to realize he was petting the thing and scowled at it, crossing his arms over his chest and forcing Schatzi to lope over to inspect the visitor. “Do you actually fucking want something, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

“All this language, is your kid not around or something?” Ari cocked his head when Robert’s jaw clenched, looking closer around the room and noticing how all the family photos were missing and the decor wasn’t quite as kitschy as it had been last time he visited. “Oh, what the fuck did you do, Rob?”

Robert opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off when suddenly a very naked woman came storming into the living room, her skin also decorated in a variety of bites and bruises that didn’t seem to bother her in the least as she glared at Ari’s brother.

“What the fuck is taking so long, Bobby?” She squared right up to Robert and this time Ari didn’t bother to hide his grin when Robert puffed his chest out and an angry flush crept up his neck. “How long does it take to get rid of one of our dumbass neighbors? Oh.” She finally spotted Ari and he gave her a little nod, not bothering to hide the way his eyes raked over her curves as she rested a hand on her hip and cocked her head at him. “Who’s this?”

“My brother- half brother.” Bobby growled when she just smiled at Ari, giving the man her name and moving his body in front of hers when she made no love to cover herself, rolling his eyes when Ari repeated her name in that deep purr that always made him sound like he was ready to fuck anything that moved. “Go put some fucking clothes on.”

“It’s my fucking house, Bobby.” She ducked around him and moved towards the kitchen, pissing Bobby off even more when she added an extra sway to her hips as his brother watched her walk away. “You want something to eat, Ari?”

“Sandwich would be peachy.” Ari beamed when she turned back to him and winked, not able to get enough of the infuriated expression on Robert’s face as this woman completely ignored him. “And who exactly are you to my baby brother, sweetheart?”

“She’s my fucking wife, when she’s not being a goddamn slut.” Robert prowled around the counter and yanked her into his chest by her throat, brushing his nose over her hair in as close to an affectionate gesture as Ari had ever seen from the man, even as he hissed at her. “If you’re through putting on your little show, quit being a brat and get dressed, I’m not in the mood for your shit right now, kitten.”

“What? Are you gonna beat me in front of your brother?” She rolled her eyes and shoved her husband off, bringing Ari his sandwich as he chuckled softly and drank the sight of her in some more. “Here ya go.”

“Thank you.” Ari winked at you before you walked back to the kitchen, settling back on the sofa and taking a bite of his sandwich. “What happened to Mary?”

“Old broad killed herself.” The look Bobby shot her should have frozen her in her tracks, but she just shrugged at him. “Kid too, nasty business, good thing Bobby has me around to cheer him up.”

Ari just shook his head as he looked back at Robert, huffing out a breath when his brother avoided his gaze. He’d warned him he wouldn’t be able to do the domestic life, shame the kid had to pay for it, even if he had been a spectacular idiot.

“Are you done running your fucking mouth?” Robert snarled as he walked closer to her, pressing his body against hers until she was caged against the counter. “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

“You want me to shut up, Bobby?” Ari was pretty sure neither of them even knew he was there anymore. “You know how to get me to quit talking.”

“Oh, you you think I won’t fuck the bitch out of you just because he’s here?” Or maybe they were very aware of his presence, Ari couldn’t help but be amused that his brother found someone who got him so riled up. “That’s a risky bet, kitten, now quit being a fucking cunt.”

“Make me.”

The only warning was a slight flare of Robert’s nostrils before he pounced, slamming her face into the counter as she let out a pleased laugh that devolved into a whine when he slammed into her without any prep. He shoved his fingers in her mouth as he started pounding her against the cabinets while her eyes rolled back in her head, his other hand tangled in her hair to yank her back on his cock as he turned his attention back to his brother.

“You’re back for a job then?” Robert slammed her head into the counter when she let out a moan around his hand, curling over her and burying his face in her hair as his hips kept slapping against her ass, Ari could’ve sworn he heard him murmuring softly into her ear.

“Yeah, got a couple lined up.” Ari smirked as he moved behind the two of them to rinse off his plate, and this time he definitely heard his brother muttering about how she was such a little slut and was lucky she had such a sweet snatch or he’d tie her to the bed for the rest of the week. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel, but I’m sure I’ll see you around. Lovely meeting you sweetheart.” He laughed when he heard his brother growl before the sounds of messy kissing joined the slapping of skin against skin that was increasing in pace, waving over his shoulder at the pair of them as he made his way to the front door. “Seeing you in such wedded bliss makes me think I should settle down myself, Rob. Maybe find myself a cute little house and some sweet thing to share it with.”

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

[freebooter4ever]

Hi! I really love your work— do you have any advice for someone who doesn’t have a lot of experience drawing human forms/anatomy? I dont really know where to start 😅

Thank you!!!! ^_^

So first off, bear with me, I'm going to point you to some of my old old art. In general, any 'progress'/tutorial type stuff i post goes into the "wip" tag: freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/wip

The rest of this discussion is going under a cut lol

I've been drawing since i was a kid - as my grandma likes to tell it i would sit quietly at the card table next to her and make her draw with me because "everyone can draw, grandma". Sometime around high school i got it into my head that i needed a 'class' to understand anatomy, as if it was just this magical thing i would suddenly understand. (college was useless) The truth is i didnt start getting better until recently, when i gave up trying to 'learn' anatomy and just started studying bodies. That sounds weird, but i don't know how else to describe it? If someone told me ages ago that i could learn anatomy the same way i self-disciplined myself into being able to pull out computer science concepts at the drop of the hat, i feel like i wouldn't have wasted so much time but anyway...

Check out any doodles before my mchanzo era for drawings that i did prior to getting serious about practice studies: freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/mchanzo. Terrible anatomy. Atrocious. (with one exception that i still like which is a poster on sasha bees' wall hey bees if you're reading this) 2016 ish.

THEN 2017 i lost my job, moved away from pittsburgh, missed my DJ friends, watched a documentary on netflix about st*ve aoki (after watching everything vaguely DJ related on the streaming service lol), and the aoki drawing era begins: freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/steve%20aoki. I joke that the way I learned anatomy was by becoming obsessed with a DJ who contorts himself into very strange positions and has photographers that take photos of him from LITERALLY every angle and who tends to walk around half naked an unusually large amount of time but like...that's literally what happened. Not that im saying you have to start drawing half naked DJ's...just find a subject you dont mind drawing hours of studies from and it makes it a lot easier.

When I'm doing 'studies' I tend to do two separate drawings. Initially I literally just 'study' what I'm looking at - I put it in photoshop and trace the lines that I see. I don't OUTLINE it, there is a huge difference. A lot of times the lines that stand out are not the outlines but rather a dominant shadow or sharp edge. After I feel like I've got a good handle on it, I do another drawing of the pose freehand. Then I take the original photo and put it underneath that drawing and check where I've messed up. If I'm completely off I throw it away and start again, lol. If there's a few errors I fix them. More and more lately I find that the freehand drawing is fairly accurate with anatomy unless it's an unusual or challenging perspective. I break this down more in this post using joe as an example: https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/post/633653906052923392/its-been-a-while-since-ive-posted-one-of-these

Those study drawings rarely see the light of day. I just delete them when I'm done because i didn't have an...aim...? For the drawing. They just were to learn.

The doodles that I post on here? Some of the simpler ones are practice sketches from gifs - i will have a gif running next to my drawing and will try to draw what i see, freehand. Some of the more complicated drawings/portraits are from photos - but there's usually something i see in the photo that i want to convey? Like light? or a specific part of anatomy? I dunno, i make shit up as i go.

AND THEN there's my favorite, when i have done all this practice and i can do shit like drawing characters from my imagination. Like kenny hugging his cat. These don't have any reference - im just relying on my memory of anatomy i've drawn in the past.

I dunno. Dont let bad anatomy get you down, just keep trying. My anatomy hero - a sculptor ethan idolized and i idolize by default - even said himself that he doesn't feel like an 'expert', and he's in his 40's and has been doing this shit for decades. Just draw!!! The more you do it, the more you'll start to see what you like, and how you can make it how you like even more. I still think my anatomy is bad, im still embarrassed by it. But i also know i've gotten better because i can see it now.

ANYWAY this is long, im exhausted, i have to go to bed now :) and i was serious about scheduling an abs livestream. Maybe this weekend if im ambitious.

[allthingsarmin]

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

[rapsgoddess]

Washing Machine Heart Part 1. (Erik Killmonger x OC)

This is unedited so please have mercy on me in the notes 😭

Nahla knew she didn’t mean a thing to him. Next to being a mercenary, Erik was a player. He came and went as he pleased, spent his nights with more than one woman, and didn’t feel a single shred of regret whenever his girls would pour out their hearts to him. 

Nahla knew she didn’t mean a single thing to him, yet she still somehow fell in love. 

It was a painful realization. One that she came to during one of Erik’s many long term absences. It was another sleepless night for her and she was sitting in bed with her laptop open to her right and her keyboard directly in front of her. For the past week, the same melody had been on loop inside her head. A broken tune that conveyed so much sorrow that it nearly brought her to tears whenever she hummed it. Each day after she got home from work, she would add onto the melody bit by bit, putting in different instruments and sounds to create a beautiful symphony. 

When it came time to write lyrics for the song, all she could envision was a tune about unrequited love. The same unrequited love that she had been feeling for a while. 

It wasn’t until she put a name to that feeling when she finally realized how she truly felt about Erik. 

She decided to try and keep things suppressed for a while, hoping that her childish feelings of romance would disappear after a few days. 

They didn’t. 

When Erik returned a few weeks later, she didn’t, know how to act. The man made it known that he was not committed to anybody, and Nahla was no exception. On the rare occasion Nahla would catch a glimpse of him on social media, she would see him surrounded by women who looked as if they could be models. Women who were leagues ahead of her. The photos never failed to resurrect her insecurities. They made her question why Erik even bothered to give her the time of day. Yet those insecurities melted away whenever he came to visit her. 

Flash forward to the present, and Nahla found herself laying next to Erik’s naked frame in her bed. The faint sound of her washing machine echoed throughout the house, giving a sort of rhythmic banging as her shoes tussled around inside. The night was still fairly young, having only been a few minutes past seven, but all of the plans that Nahla had for that evening were discarded the moment Erik showed up on her doorstep. 

It didn’t take much for his words to lull her into bed and for his lips on hers to enrapture her. His low, smooth voice was like music to her ears, and her moans being music to his. Each praise that left his lips was like a toxic lullaby. Nahla knew that he had repeated the same words to dozens of women in the past, yet in the moment, they made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. 

“You feel so good around me baby…”

“You don’t know how much I missed this pussy.”

“Say my name so everybody know who’s fuckin’ you right.” 

Thinking back to his words sent shivers down her spine. She was wide awake, restless and too excited to fall asleep. It was rare for Erik to stay after having sex, let alone fall asleep before her, but her inner turmoil prevented her from falling asleep. 

She turned back to look over at Erik, taking in every aspect of his being as if it were the last time she would see him again. No matter how many times she laid eyes on him, she would never be able to find the words to describe how beautiful he was. He had a smile that could light up a room and warm eyes that made her heart flutter each time she looked into them. It often left her wondering why exactly he even entertained the thought of her when he was way out of her league. 

A heavy sigh left Nahla’s lips and she threw the covers off the lower half of her body. She looked back at Erik one last time while putting on her robe, making sure that he stayed asleep. Slowly and quietly, she crept out of the room and down the hall to her makeshift studio, closing the door behind her and turning on the lights. She used her studio as an escape from both the real world and her own mind, and right then she needed an escape from both. Turning on her equipment and opening up her laptop, she opened up the file that held her latest project. The one that helped her come to her realization in the first place. She made sure the speakers were low as to not wake Erik up and pressed play, listening to her voice blend with the gentle melody. 

She had only written a few lines so far and could feel the next verse just on the tip of her tongue, but lyricism had never really been her strong suit. Muttering random words under her breath, she opened up the notes section on GarageBand and began writing down whatever sounded nice, replacing and adding words where she deemed fit. 

“Might as well give it a go,” she sighed, getting up from her chair and walking over to the small corner where her mic and the rest of her recording equipment was set up. She pressed record on an empty track and began singing the second verse, her voice coming out soft and almost broken in contrast to her usual strong, belty tone. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, but she couldn’t walk back to that room. Not with him still laying asleep in her bed as if the two of them were a couple. 

After a few more takes, she had finally gotten her voice warmed up enough to where it didn’t sound completely like shit and she walked over to her work station to edit the track on top the music. 

With her mind now completely engulfed in her music, she didn’t noticed the sound of her toilet flushing or her bathroom sink running down the hall. She didn’t notice the sound of footsteps leading to her studio and her door opening slightly. 

It wasn’t until the feeling of a hand snaking its way around her neck drew her from her work as she jumped in her seat while clutching her chest in panic.

“Whatchu scared for? It’s just me,” Erik muttered, his voice still laced with drowsiness. “What are you doing up? Any other day you’d be knocked out.” His fingers gently squeezed at her neck and he leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. It was weirdly intimate of him.

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to work on something.” Nahla spun her seat around to face him. He had on a pair of low hanging shorts. She recognized them as being one of the pairs she bought for him whenever he decided to stay over. She mentally scoffed at the thought; buying clothes for a man who she wasn’t even in a relationship with. 

“You’re not leaving?” She asked. It had just dawned on her that, miraculously, Erik was still there. 

“Nah. I haven’t seen you in a while so I figured I’d stay for a little bit.” 

The sentiment made her heart flutter but she quickly grounded herself back to reality. She couldn’t afford to get her hopes up. 

“So, what are you working on?” He asked, his arms folded across his chest as he looked past her and at the open editing software on her computer. 

“Oh. Well I had a melody that was stuck in my head for a while so I put it down and write lyrics. I lowkey wanna find a mini orchestra to record it though.” 

“Well can I hear it?” He suggested. 

Nahla’s eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. Despite knowing each other for the better part of two years now, this was the most he had ever expressed genuine interest in her music. 

“U-Uhh, I’m not sure… I get really sensitive about my stuff. Plus it’s not what you’d expect it to be,” she said, swirling her chair back around to face her work station as she hesitantly placed her hand on the mouse  and moved the cursor over the “play” button. After taking a deep breath, she played the song and closed her eyes as she waited for it to be over. Throughout the entirety of what little she had to play, Erik was silent, giving no response, comment, or critiques. When it was over, she reluctantly turned around to face him. 

“So? What do you think?”

“Yeah, I can definitely hear an orchestra going behind that. Maybe start off with piano first, then bring in strings or some shit during the hook,” he suggested, walking over to the other chair in the corner of her studio and sitting down. 

“Okay. Thanks.”

For about an hour or two, the two of them stayed up in her studio talking about random things while sharing a blunt together. They eventually migrated back to the bedroom and made their way beneath the covers together, Nahla’s body molding perfectly into Erik’s as they cuddled. 

“Nah, I’m deadass. I thought I had locked his cage, but he always finds a way to get out,” Nahla giggled, referring to her pet chameleon who always managed to get out of his cage. “I remember a few day ago I had just woken up and went into the kitchen to get some juice and I see him inside the sink just sitting there. Then he have the nerve to look up at me like ‘what are you doing here?’ No sir, what are you doing here.” 

Erik laughed softly while shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think I could handle an animal just freely roaming my shit like that.”

“You get used to it after a while. I was low-key thinking about getting a snake too, but I gotta figure out where to put the tank.”

“Oh hell nah. If you get a snake, I’m not coming by anymore.”

“What?! You used to be a whole Navy Seal and you’re scared of snakes, E?” She asked, a bit surprised that he even shared that information with her. 

“Girl, I don’t know how you can even stand them things,” he mumbled, “slithering around and shit. What if it gets out when you’re sleep and starts choking you?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she giggled, earning an eye roll from Erik. 

Though it didn’t seem possible, she pressed herself against Erik even harder, somehow managing to get even closer to him. Resting her head in the crook of his neck, she had a perfect view of the many scars and keloids that littered his body. She could tell some of them are new. Whether or not they were accidental or self inflicted, she didn’t want to know. 

It was times like these where Nahla wished that her outlandish fantasies of romance weren’t fantasies at all. Having never been in a real relationship before, she constantly longed to be loved by someone in a romantic sense. Though she knew that Erik probably never thought of her as more than a fuck buddy, it was nice to feel his warmth underneath her. Even if it was an illusion, it was nice to imagine him as her lover while he was holding her close. 

“What’s on your mind?” He pried, letting out a deep sigh before closing his eyes and relaxing his muscles. 

“Where do you go when you disappear?” She partially lied. Even though that wasn’t what truly was on her mind, it was still a question that lingered over her head for a while. 

“That, I can’t tell you ma. At least not right now.” 

She wasn’t satisfied with how curt his reply was. Sitting up, she supported her head with her hand, her elbow buried into the pillow beside his head as she peered down at him. 

“You can tell me,” she pried. A childish grin spread across her face. “If it’s something illegal I promise I won’t tell.”

Erik peaked one up up at her, a smile of his own taking over his featured. He pushed his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “Mm… Maybe I could tell you a little bit. I don’t even know where to begin though without you thinkin’ I’m crazy.”

“I won’t think you’re crazy.”

“You say that now.” There was a pregnant pause, and then, in the most serious tone ever, he said, “I’m apart of African royalty.”

“So there’s this country in Africa called Wakanda. At first glance, it seems like a small lil third world country, but in reality, they’re the most advanced civilization on the planet. They got this metal called Vibranium that allows them to all sorts of things, but they keep it hidden from the rest of the world.”

“How? And if they kept it hidden from the world, then how do you know about it?”

“They have a dome that surrounds the entire country. It’s practically impenetrable. And the only reason I know is because my father was the prince. He was sent here on an undercover mission in America but quickly saw how shitty thing were here, so he wanted to change it. “

“Wait, your father is the prince of an African country?” Nahla couldn’t believe her ears. Despite being secretive and mysterious, she knew that Erik wasn’t one to lie. After all, what could he possibly gain from lying about something as far fetched as this?  

“Was. He was killed before he could enact any change; by his own brother no less.”

She could hear a pain and vulnerability in his voice that she’d never heard before. Now she definitely knew that he wasn’t lying. 

Erik’s face had turned to the side in a fruitless attempt to hide the tears that welled up in his eyes. He’d never brought up his family or much of his life before he met her in a conversation, and now she could see why. 

Hesitantly, Nahla reached up to wipe away the tears that left his eyes. “So you plan on going back and getting revenge?” She pondered. It would make sense why he’d want to stay under the radar,  having no social media accounts, no permanent phone number, and constantly disappearing for months at a time. If he wanted to infiltrate an entire hidden country, then he’d have to be the closest thing to a ghost a person could be. 

“It’s on the list,” he replied, sitting up in bed while resting back against the headboard. “But, my main goal is to change the world. Wakanda has technology and weapons that people can’t even begin fathom. If our people were able to get their hands on that kind of fire power, we wouldn’t have to worry about the White man oppressing us any longer.” 

The sadness that was once present in his eyes had long disappeared, instead being replaced with a burning passion. It filled her with joy to see him get passionate about something, but it also put her on edge. Nahla knew what his plan implied, and she didn’t put it past him to sacrifice countless lives in order to see his vision come to life.

Staying silent, she simply nodded, too afraid that she’d say the wrong thing if she opened her mouth. Tearing her gaze away from the man, she began contemplating on everything she had been thinking about prior to his arrival. Her feelings for him were still unwavering, but now she was starting to ponder on whether or not being with him was a wise decision. It didn’t take being a genius to know that Erik’s path was a set one. He was a determined, goal-driven man, and when his mind was made up, there was no convincing him to go back on his decision. 

If she followed him down that path, she wouldn’t be able to turn back. 

“Do I scare you?” 

Nahla looked back up only to be met with obsidian eyes boring straight into her deep brown ones. His question threw her for a loop, no doubt, considering how Erik was never one to be considerate of other people’s feelings. 

“H-Huh? What do you mean?” She knew exactly what he meant. 

“That look in your eyes… You’re scared of something. What is it?” He demanded in an eerily calm manner. 

Attempting to spare his feelings would be a futile decision; Erik read people like his favorite novel. Yet, for some reason, Nahla had no control over the words that left her mouth. 

She almost never did when she was around him. 

“Nothing. I just get a bit spooked in the dark,” she chuckled. 

Erik simply blinked at her, a look of uncertainty and doubt dancing around in his eye before he shrugged it off and laid back down in the bed, facing her completely. 

“You should get some rest. Goodnight,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving her. 

Upon hearing his words, Nahla felt an immense tiredness wash over her as if he casted a sleeping spell over her. She glanced over at the clock and noticed how it was nearly 4 AM. She had only three hours before she needed to get up and get ready for work. 

She was tired, but fear kept plaguing her mind. A fear that he wouldn’t be there when she woke up. Or, even worse, a fear that she had dreamt the entire night. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispered. 

Nahla wanted to believe him, so she did, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

[ugh-againwiththenames]

Original Cursed Thoughts

Ok wait, I’m having so many thoughts….SO MANY that I’m actually posting on here, on my utterly blank page, live, for the first time EVER. So Hi! (I’m scared!)

These are just my own thoughts as someone who has taken a few days to fully absorb this whole situation (I always need a little time to get the thoughts in order).  Also despite living here for a while, I have no idea how this site actually works, so bear with me.

Stay with me. *rambles incoherently for a few pages*

\\what if\\...what if this whole fucking thing was part of the Jackles (and Daneel) long con? WHAT IF. *This* was, in fact, the plan.  I mean I fully understand that not everything here could have been planned to go off the way it did, but there’s a part of me that’s like, huh, this is so something I would do...

Ok, let’s throw some spec in here for fun. Let’s assume that the J2 fallout has been slowly happening for years (I think we have enough receipts for that).  Jen has put up with J*red’s nonsense for years, he loves the boy, that’s his brother, and one of his closest friends, the one that knows him soooo well, who knows him soooo well...but, there’s a limit. THERE IS ALWAYS A LIMIT (and those of us who are…like me [read:JensenCoded]; the limit is where we just snap.  It’s not necessarily loud, or violent, but it’s a “cool, thanks, I’m done, now” and it’s immediate and almost always final). Ok, so let’s run with the spec that Jen is just sort of *done* with JPad. He KNOWS this boy’s penchant for effing losing his mind about stupid sh*t on social media – PUBLICLY and without forethought to the consequences. This is TYPICAL/KOWN behavioural patterning.

Moving on.

Jenneel named their company….CHAOS MACHINE. This is not an accident  - They f*cking changed it at the final hour (like who even does that?!...yeah, that’s what I thought). Especially! if we consider the from>>to on that one….way too much to unpack there, and others have, I think, already done a pretty good job on the spec there.  

So they have an idea. They have MANY ideas.  But they have a great starting point….how do they launch it? This is so calculated. ugh, this whole thing is calculated. And dare I say it? Perfection.

It’s the end of June. #happypride (parallel     here – go nuts, I’ll wait. Pick as many as you’d like – but Jensen “Dean     has no taste, clearly” Ackles did not do this by accident)

They     announce a story that will INCENSE the fandom - #John Winchester’s A+     Parenting …. #Jary – seriously…They KNOW. They know what the fandom thinks     – “that’s your problem [fandom], you have no faith….” [come and warm yourself by the fire with me]. 

They     do not tell J* (do we need commentary here? I don’t think so, this has     been run over with a bulldozer)

Fandom     initially loses their minds over the material [#TRENDING]

J*pad     predictably loses his mind publicly

Fandom     loses their collective minds AGAIN #J2 FALLOUT [#TRENDING]

(Misha     – hit the reset button!!) – #boom Bathtub “Misha #Chaos Collins” does not     have that nickname for no reason….#goodboy (aside: 4lw I love you)

Jensen     – (*lemme just quote this fascinating article talking about how much/why     the fandom hates JW…) #CANON, I GOT YOU. [#TRENDING]

(Misha     – send the sauce babe) - #TEXT! refer to #7 for further information.

Jensen     “I’ve been more active in the last 3 days than I’ve been in forEVER on SM”…having     fun at the links with Karl talking about “staying out of the weeds”, at a     party, and screaming into a mirror (half naked at 3am, “just trying to     cope”)….[#TRENDING] (hot damn boy, that  photo was… #help) – “Subtext is really     getting its day in the sun”….

 What did ALL OF THIS DO PERFECTLY??? CHAOS. Absolute f*cking Chaos. What’s the name of their company? This is Chaos Machine, and I think it was executed PERFECTLY.

And how many birds has he Effing shot out of the sky with this week long party?

J2     fallout confirmed and out in the open (we knew it already, of course to     some extent), but now it’s out there, in public, and of course they will     be professional at Cons – they have contracts. I have no concerns about them being normal at Cons. (although     what I wouldn’t give for more cockles content….I’ll manifest that over here     in my little corner of the world)

Hey     while we’re at it let’s, by doing the above, let’s shoot some W*ncesties     out of the sky, and just get them off the board. *because*

Launch     their company in the most chaotic way possible, hence absolutely annihilating     the chance that anything they do in the future won’t catch media     attention

Lost     the trust of the fandom (you never lost me baby, I swear), and then     proceeded to get the part that mattered back within 24 hours! (the POWER     this man has!)

Trended     this thing like a KING. For DAYS!

Guaranteed     that there is not a person in the SPN planet/universe who does NOT know     about this.

 God, this is gonna be fun. I, for one, cannot wait to see what comes next.

In conclusion, just my thoughts. I think this has been a mostly calculated move from the start (with the occasional wild card).  

Honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way. There is a reason I will live and die in this dumpster…#chaos

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 22

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tag: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The next few weeks went by in utter bliss.

The days after the pitch presentation with the marketing team were spent shooting the models in Sam's building. When Bucky told me you'd had assistants for the shoot, you thought that he was just joking or just wanted to make you feel better but you knew now to believe everything he would tell you. It was the first time you'd had people help you work; the first time you had to order people around. You had people working for the lights, reflectors, fans, backdrops, wardrobe, and make-up. You also had people sitting behind two large desktops connected to your new camera to skim over the photos. You would head over there for every five minutes to look at the photos and if you found something that could work better, you'd have another round with the models.

Considering it was the first time you've handled professional models and athletes in photoshoots, you did excellent and handled everything smoothly. Even Sharon knew it, giving you a small reassuring smile from time to time.

Speaking of Sharon, she actually helped you with the models' wardrobe, and got every new clothing from their inventory, making sure everything and everyone were photographed. She was still walking around with her clipboard close to her chest. She never walked the grounds without it.

Sam would go in and out from time to time. With the other matters he had in his hands, countless partnership meetings on-site and online, it was understandable.

But you knew he trusted me in this. After all, you were partners in this project.

Meanwhile, Bucky had made himself comfortable watching you from the corner of the studio. He made himself too comfortable watching you the whole time you were working that the models thought he was planning something heinous. You laughed them off and told them you were dating.

"Isn't he too old for you?" One model had asked.

"Doesn't really matter to me." You turned your head and glanced at Bucky, his eyes glistening as he stared at you. You bit your lip and faced the model. "Plus, he's hot. I would be crazy not to jump on that."

If only Nat could hear you, you knew she'd be proud.

Even though the two-day shoots were brutal, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. More when you finally had to do post-production the following week which meant editing the photos.

As promised, you spent your break time over at Bucky's penthouse, naked in his living room, his master bedroom, the kitchen, and his home office. Your legs would be trembling during the shoot but you persevered. You didn't want Bucky to see you weak while working, even though it turned him on. It wasn't helping that he was watching you the whole time. You couldn't see him but you always felt his eyes on you.

The Falcons' new release was set to be launched a month and a half later, just weeks after Bucky's birthday (I'll get to Bucky's birthday in a bit, 'cause that was a whole other thing kept at the back of my mind, you thought). There were still a lot of things happening with advertising and marketing such as the new website, and pages on social media platforms and new packaging.

After the project with Sam, your paycheck came one Monday morning in the mail. Peter kept asking you how much you were paid but you never told him because if you did, he'd let you pay the next six month's rent — and that wasn't even just for your half. It would be for the both of you. You would gladly pay of course, seeing that he's helped you enough financially but you wanted to invest this money to earn more. The paycheck wouldn't stop there, of course. Sam would still pay you if your photos ever get on billboards across any city or when he opens up a new branch.

Sam referred you to a couple more guys he knew. One who needed to photograph models for a skincare brand he'd been rebranding for the past couple of weeks and one who needed to photograph paintings to be sold online. They weren't as big as Sam's business but were big enough in the industry. The production of both were still in the talk.

The next day, you and Bucky went studio hunting downtown. Obviously, your little home studio wasn't fit for incoming clients and this was surely an investment you couldn't pass upon. After renting and earning more profit, you figured you could move into another studio and buy it; a permanent place where you could freely work.

While studio hunting, Bucky insisted to buy the place that you wanted — or better yet, buy a much bigger place so you wouldn't have to move to another studio. But you've already made up your mind. You told him you wanted to do this your own way, with the money you've earned. After signing the contract and lease with your name on it, Bucky hugged you from behind. The property agent eyed you.

"At least let me buy you something, doll." He whispered in your hair as soon as you were left alone. You stood at the center of the empty office, overlooking the busy streets of New York City through the glass walls.  "Please."

You met his arms with your hands, pulling him closer. You leaned on his chest, sighing at the comfort his arms gave you. "Even if I tell you no, I know you're still going to do it."

"You're damn right. Do you have anything in mind you might like?"

You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Surprise me."

He chewed his inner cheeks before dipping his head to yours, your lips meeting each other. "Oh, I definitely will."

The next day, a whole studio setup filled the used-to-be-empty studio. Complete with backdrops, lights, light boxes, and reflectors. In your new office was a fully furnished desk, complete with a desktop setup where you could edit photos.

You looked at him with wide eyes, ready to lecture him that this was all too much and that you definitely made it clear that you wanted to do all of this by yourself.

Bucky had caught your expression early on, scared that you might have our first argument.

"Before you say anything, this wasn't all me. I figured out a loophole on how I could buy you the things you need for this studio and at the same time, still make you like me and would still make you want to rip my clothes off."

"What did you do this time, James?"

"All of this," he said, gesturing to all the equipment in the studio, "was both me and Sam. Think of it as an investment. If you can get more work and clients, then you can keep everything but if you can't, we'll pull them all out. When you afford to buy everything here, only then can you pay us. This little string here," he pointed to the both of you, "is just business."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Just business?"

He bit his lip. "Okay, maybe a bit of pleasure too."

"A bit?"

"Maybe a whole lot." He shrugged.

"And the whole idea was... just you?"

"Just me, sweetheart. Plain James Buchanan Barnes. You get me, you get the whole package."

"And besides money what will you get out of this little investment idea of yours?"

"I have little care about the money, honestly." He said. "But I'm doing all this for you and you is all I care about."

"You're damn lucky I like you, James."

"Like me enough to have some hot sex right here, right now?"

You smirked, pressing your crotch against his, teasing him. "I get the whole package, right?"

Bucky took you from behind. Your tight skirt hiked up to your waist. Your tits bouncing against the fabric of the beige curtains, your hands gripping them as hard as you could as Bucky thrusted himself hard and deep behind you, his hands either on your hips, your hair, your neck or your breasts. And as you both finished, the curtain rod broke in half, making you and Bucky topple on the ground, the huge curtains falling down on your bodies. The bright sun radiating across the room, the view of the streets startling you.

Laughter filled the room as you stared at each other. The look of exhaustion still evident in your faces and body.

"You're buying me new curtains." You breathed out.

"Me?" He chuckled. "You're the one who pulled them off!"

"The reason why was you."

"I have a better idea."

"I doubt that."

"We should just get these windows tinted." He smirked under the curtains and rolled over towards you, his arms wrapped around your waist. "That way we could just ravish each other in front of this goddamn city without anyone ever seeing us. How does that sound, doll?"

You hummed, brushing your nose against his. "Tempting."

"Is that a yes?"

You shrugged, pulling away from him. "You have to convince me more, Mr. Barnes."

"Oh babydoll, you're gonna regret saying those words."

The following weeks with Bucky was all you could ever ask for but it was getting harder and harder to hide all of this from Peter. Your time together was spent in the confines of Bucky's expensive penthouse when he wasn't in meetings and when you weren't busy finishing the setup in your new studio.

All day you'd cuddle up, watch movies, read books, and just talk more about the beauty and perils of life.

You couldn't go out that much because you couldn't risk Peter or any of Peter's friends to see you and Bucky around. When you visited the bar one day and told Nat all about it, she told you to go to places Peter and any of his friends will never be at.

"Besides, isn't Peter always working?" She asked as you sat down on the booth.

"We still don't want to risk it."

"So, go with my plan."

"Hey," you said, finally thinking her idea was a good one, "how's it going with Steve?"

She shrugged, chewing on her lower lip. You eyed her suspiciously. "Uh-oh, what's wrong?"

"It's still good but..." she paused, her eyes strained. "He's been acting strange lately."

"Isn't he always?" You chuckled. "You may not notice this 'cause you're sleeping with him but he's a bit peculiar for a man his age. Always cramped up in that little office of his. Seriously, how on earth do you have sex in there?"

"I'm bendy, bitch."

"Never should've asked." You mumbled, getting the picture of Nat, well, bending, out of your head.

"Anyway," she sighed, "it's just... he's acting really weird. I can't even begin to explain it. I think something happened."

"Do you think it's about you two?"

"I doubt that." She frowned. "I just know it's something else."

"You want me to talk to him? I'm like a little sister to him." You replied. "Sorta. It's a weird dynamic, I know."

"Sure, if you ever catch him in the office. He's barely even here."

You nodded, taking the new information in. "Now, that's a whole level of weird for Steve."

"Maybe he's just having problems with the bar or something." You shrugged.

"If he did, he'd be here in the bar. I tried talking to him but he says he's just fine. I don't know, I'm just letting him be. It's not like we're in a relationship."

You and Nat talked a bit more about Steve right before her shift started. Then the next day, you gave Bucky a map and marked all the places you could go to without risking being seen. Brooklyn was the only place Peter would never go to. You thought about Queens but May, Peter's aunt, lives around that area.

Brooklyn was no Upper West or Upper East side but it didn't matter to you or to Bucky. You had each other; just the two of us — in the restaurant & lounge, movie theater (where we always end up making out), Barnes & Noble, local coffee shops (where we read the books we've bought), and in the streets of Brooklyn. Strolling hand in hand, stealing kisses on every empty corner, and you taking photos and videos of the beautiful landscape, and the beautiful man who managed to steal your heart.

All the rendezvous with Bucky felt like you were a married woman having an affair — without the secret handwritten letters.

But everything was in place and your heart was full. It was so full it could almost explode.

Spending all the time in his penthouse, in Brooklyn and your studio made me miss your rooftop. A place you've claimed yours and Bucky's; a place he'd claimed you his, and he, yours. You wished we could just go there freely, without having to worry Peter seeing you together doing unspeakable things to one another.

And yes, telling Peter was getting much harder as the month went by.

Back in the Upper West Side, nothing much was going on in the bar. You barely see Steve (though according to Nat, he comes in the bar every now and then), Nat was still Nat of course (and nothing much had changed in whatever was going on between her and Steve), Nick got better at making drinks (thank the heavens for that), Sam would give you constant updates whenever he came with Bucky in the bar, and Peter had been having problems with his marketing team and Wanda's vision for the clothing line they landed.

Now that was something you couldn't believe and was the reason you and Bucky kept postponing on telling him.

Peter was constantly in a bad mood. It got to one point where he wanted to quit the team.

After that, you went to pay Wanda a visit at her studio. You found her sitting in her office in deep thoughts. She was surprised to see you but managed to put on a smile when she approached you with a hug. You offered if you could get coffee from a coffee shop down the block and there you talked about the conflict happening between her and Peter's team.

Boy, when you and Sharon had had an argument, you thought that was already big. But Wanda's case was much bigger.

"This isn't a collaboration anymore. It feels like my artistic vision has no place in it. It's like they're telling me, 'hey, you have a camera just shoot whatever we want you to shoot the way we want it to be shot.' I keep telling them that's not how it works. They keep throwing in my face that they hired me, that they're paying me." Wanda being Wanda, kept on and on and on. "... and that roommate of yours is no help either. He just stays silent the whole time during those god awful meetings. We're already behind track and apparently it's my fault. Can you believe it? God, I don't know what to do. I've never had a marketing team work alongside me before! Have you at least talked to Peter about it?"

You raised your eyebrows, taking a sip of the coffee. "Oh, I wouldn't wanna talk to Parker. He's been in quite a mood."

"Too bad, I was kind of hoping you could knock some sense into him. Should I just quit?"

You talked for about two hours in the coffee shop catching up. It felt kind of rude to talk to her about The Falcons but she insisted. And she genuinely looked and sounded so happy for you, which made you feel a bit guilty for being so envious of her success.

You parted ways in her studio but before you could even get out of her office and go to Brooklyn to meet with Bucky, Wanda called out your name and handed you a film camera.

And it wasn't just any film camera. It was yours — the one that she borrowed back in college.

"It's long overdue, y/n. I was just finding the right time to give it back to you."

You gave her a reassuring smile, telling her it's okay. Hell, you even forgot you lended it to her until today. "Thanks, Wanda."

"I haven't had the film developed, by the way. I took a couple of photos before realizing I've run out. I didn't want to get them developed since most of the photos are yours."

After that, you convinced Bucky to go to some shops in Brooklyn where you could get them developed but he insisted you should just make the little spare room in the studio into a dark room. You didn't know why you agreed but you did, anyway. Bucky always had a way with words. Or perhaps it was because of his intoxicating voice. Either way, you were addicted to every part of him. He could try to persuade you in gibberish and you'd still say yes.

It was already the week before Bucky's birthday. You've already met with your new clients, began planning pre-production, and almost finished setting up the studio, yet your brain was still racking what on earth to get Bucky for his birthday.

Howard picked you up in your studio an hour after your meetings and thanked him as you got out. Leonard greeted you inside and led you towards the elevator that goes right up to Bucky's penthouse.

Bucky just came out of his study when you greeted him with a kiss, his phone in his hand.

"So, who was on the phone? Parker?" You asked as soon as you sat down on the couch.

"That was Tony."

You pursed your lips and nodded, caressing the top of his head. "Tony's been calling you a lot lately." You commented, recalling the times you've seen Tony's name on Bucky's phone screen. "Is everything fine?"

"It's kind of weirding me out too, doll but this time, I kind of figured why he called."

You frowned and stopped playing with his hair. "What do you mean?"

"It's the first time in five years I'm in New York for my birthday and knowing him, I know he'd throw me this huge party." Bucky chuckled. "And I couldn't say no because well... It's Tony — "

You smiled at him. "That's really sweet of him! He must've been missing you a lot."

"I'm not done yet, doll." He placed his finger on your lips.

You giggled and hid how easily that gesture turned you on.

"The birthday party has a theme." With his finger still on your lips, you waited for him to finish. Something you always anticipated in bed. "It's the Great Gatsby."

Your mouth fell agape, smiling at him. In your head, you were already seeing him in a neat, dazzling vintage suit. "Oh my god, why do you look so glum? It sounds like a great party!"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I just want to spend my birthday with you." He pecked your lips then whispered. "No fancy party. Just you."

You kissed him back, then placed your head on his shoulder. "I'd love that too, boo but I'm nothing compared to a Great Gatsby party."

"You couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart." He sighed, pulling you up to his lap. "I'd choose you over any fancy party. I just want you."

"You still have to go, Bucky."

He groaned, dipping his head on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, his hands tight on the sides of your thighs. "I don't want to."

"You have to." You giggled, lifting his head. You put your hands on his jaws, looking straight at him. "Okay?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine in a week, y/n. I'm too old for a costume party."

"Puh-lease." You scoffed. "You streaked in the streets of Greece when you turned thirty-four and you're telling me you're too old for a costume party?"

He groaned, throwing his head back. "Why do you always bring that up, doll?"

"It's one of my favorite stories I've been told about my boyfriend." You smirked, bringing his head back in between his shoulders. "It would be my favorite if I were with you."

Bucky sent you a glare. "No way am I letting other people see you naked. Never in a million years."

You shrugged. "You almost did when we had sex that one time in my office, Buck. Come on, go to the party. It's your party, anyway."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He tucked it behind your ear. You smiled at the gesture. "If anything, it's Tony's party, Not mine. He's sort of a diva."

"He's still throwing it because of you. Come on, boo."

A moment of silence occurred.

"You're coming with me, then." He replied. "I'm not going if you're not going."

You hummed, looking up at the ceiling. "Let's see... A party with my boyfriend, his adoptive father who's one of the richest people ever to exist on this planet, and his stepbrother. Well, it's a party but not that fancy."

He moaned. "Then be my date in secret. Come on, doll, we've been really good at it. We can sneak out for a few minutes and make out. That way, I could still be with you."

You knitted your brows. "That sounds more like Romeo and Juliet. Not the Great Gatsby."

He chuckled, kissing the tip of your nose. "Come on, y/n. It's my birthday. Don't I get special treatment on my special day?"

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, knowing he would never drop this. The worry of a party with the person you had been avoiding the past month was settling inside but Bucky's arms around your waist made that all disappear.

"Fine." You sighed. "Your wish is my command, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky smiled in victory, leaning in closer to your face. His lips brushed against yours. "Wishes, baby. That's not the only wish I want."

"You have two more then."

"Oh wait, I should rub you first after making a wish, right?"

You shook your head. "Don't push it."

He sneered, carefully rubbing your thighs. "My second wish would be me buying you a dress but don't let me see it until my birthday comes."

You hadn't had any chance to argue because well, it would be his birthday. And you couldn't resist Bucky.

I don't think I ever could.

"Deal." You sealed it with a small kiss then stood up from his lap. "Only if you let me go shopping now,"

"Now? Like, right now? It's a bit too early, don't you think?"

You nodded and gave him a playful smile. "It is. I just wanted to tease you with a little secret I'll be bringing home with me tonight."

"Oh no," he reached out his arms, "don't do that to me. Come on, get back here. I have a better idea."

You sighed, getting back on his lap, straddling him. "Of course, you do."

"I'll have someone over here tomorrow. I'll have one of the best dressmakers here to make you something gorgeous. How does that sound?"

"It sounds expensive." You warned. "But wonderful. I'll be here in the morning."

After spending another hour at Bucky's, discussing what could've been his birthday plans with me (a simple rooftop dinner, where we could get drunk and have drunk sex underneath the tent — that was just one of the crazy options he offered), you went straight to the bar and looked for Nat, hoping she could help me what to get for Bucky on his birthday.

As you got there, you barged inside only to find the bar empty. You looked around, wondering why there were no people inside only to realize it was two in the afternoon and it was a Monday. You looked back on the door, wondering why it was open. Then, it hit you: Steve. He must be here.

"Steve?" You called out as you neared his office. "Steve, you here?"

No answer.

You knocked on the door and called out his name one more time but you were only met with silence. Without hesitation, you opened Steve's door. You were greeted with a pile of papers. It was like they were growing from the ground.

"Steve?" You called out once more but there was still no answer. You walked around the room to find more papers. You picked one up, seeing it was a newspaper dated back 2012. It was an article about an explosion that happened in the Upper East Side. But you couldn't see the details since only the headline was in sight. It seemed like the whole article had been cut or shredded.

You wondered if Steve was the one who wrote it.

It was the first time you ever got a good look in his office. Inside were dusty. To think that he spends most of his time here, he'd bother to clean once in a while.

On the back of his table were a bunch of photographs lined up. Some of his family, you assumed, fishing on a lake. Then, something caught your eye: a small framed picture that was facing down.

Curious, you slowly picked it up.

An audible gasp came out of your mouth when you saw the photo.

It was Bucky and Steve.

[ndellasall]

6 Key Concepts Regarding Race/Racism.

White Supremacy

Pictured above is Jeffery Dahmer. Dahmer is a white male serial killer who ate, violated, and brutally murdered his victims. His victims were mainly young brown and black men. His youngest victim was a 14 year old boy of Asian descent, in fact his victim managed to escape into Dahmer’s apartment hallway where his neighbor Glenda Cleveland a black woman and her daughter saw the young boy, drugged, stumbling and clearly needing help, so she called the police. When the police arrived Jeffery had told them the young naked boy was his “19 year old boyfriend”, after this with no further questioning or investigation toward the boy they allowed Jeffery to take him back into his apartment where he later strangled the boy immediately after.This shows how white cops automatically believed Jeffery over Glenda because he was a white man.

Hypodescent

Jussie Smollet, pictured and tagged above is biracial. His father is a white Jewish man and his mother is black (also pictured on the right), yet his classification is simply “black”. This portrays how being a “Hypo-descent” is still a modern issue. It could be a drop of African American in his blood and yet just like that, he is no longer regarded as even “half white” to racists.

Microagression

Most people may not realize when they are performing an act of microagression. This is why it is important to be cultured and respectful. Racial aggressions are not stereotypes, they are racist statements in a form of a backhanded question or compliment. The photo above references some every day sayings you may want to reflect on before you say aloud.

Institutional Racism

Institutional racism is by far the best example of modern day segregation. In the video above you will see how it is exactly broken down. An example, would be HBCU’s and PWI’s. HBCU’s are historically black colleges and universities, where majority of the students are black, on the other hand PWI’s are predominantly white institutions. Both teach the same things yet HBCU’s receive a drastic funding difference then PWI’s and it is not a upgrade.

Racial Ideology

Today, some common ideological forms of racism include the belief that Black women are loud and ghetto, that Latina women are “spicy” or “hot-tempered,” and that black men and boys are criminally inclined. This form of racism has a negative impact on people of color as a whole because it works to deny them access to and/or success within the educational and the professional world, and subjects them to heightened police surveillance, harassment, and violence, among other negative outcomes we see daily. (Source linked)

Colonialism

In the GIF above the words “bloody” are portrayed as we see the Europeans putting up the British flag at what seems to be newly found land. This however was done in real life in real time. The British army still till this day is one of the strongest army’s in the world. They enslaved and sold many slaves, goods, and land. They swept the world of its riches vastly and while they did it they ran the rivers with blood. This is colonialism, in turn stealing a world that isn’t yours and saying you found it and it is now “yours”.

[thedigitalnativee]

i trusted you. (fred weasley x fem!oc)

summary: vespyr trusted him despite being warned of his ways.

warnings: unedited and not proof-read, ANGST, mentions of sex, mentions of nude photos, fred being a dick, me hurting my oc as a way to cope (lol...)

update: vespyr’s name is pronounced ve-spur

Vespyr face claim:

•••••••••••

Vespyr was stunned by what she was seeing. It was as if she could feel her heart breaking in half. She didn’t want to believe it, but how could she not when it was so clear?

Two weeks ago, Vespyr slept with Fred Weasley. She’d always had a crush on him. She was in awe of his ambition and confidence, and not to mention that he was rather dashing as well.

But she knew nothing would ever come of it. After all, she was just one of Ron’s dumb little friends to him.

So when Fred kissed her at a quidditch afterparty, she was shocked. But not shocked enough to tell him no. She had wanted him since she was eleven years old. For years, her dreams and fantasies had been of him loving her unconditionally. So when he said he wanted her, she let him have her. And when he said he wanted a piece of her with him, she didn’t protest.

Maybe she should have pushed him off. Maybe she should have said no. Maybe she should have done anything to keep her from being in the position she was in now.

Now here she sat, tears welling up in her eyes. Next to her, Lavender and Parvati showed her the copies of the intimate photos she shared with Fred that had been circulating around the school. Photos of her in her underwear, posing promiscuously. Enchanted pictures of his fingers running over her breasts and stomach. Laying completely nude on his bed as they made love—or so she thought.

“I’m sorry, Vespyr.” Parvati said.

Vespyr felt like her breath had been stolen away. Her chest was red hot with a feeling she’d never felt before. It was like heartbreak elevated to a higher plane.

“We tried to collect all of them, but I think Fay said she saw more in one of the corridors. We told McGonagall and she’s looking into it.” Lavender added gently.

Fred couldn’t have done this. He would never have shown those photos to anyone. But how else would they have gotten out to the school? Maybe someone found them in his dorm. He wouldn’t hurt her like this.

Vespyr walked down to the common room where she knew Fred was. She had to speak with him immediately. Surely he’d know how the photos had gotten around.

When she got to the common room, she saw Fred sitting around the card table with his friends. She stood in the frame of the stairway with her arms crossed over her chest, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. She saw the dirty look Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley gave to her. She also noticed the way Alicia, Angelina, and Katie laughed at her.

Trying her best to ignore them, she made her way across the room to Fred. As she approached, Lee and Cormac’s eyes landed on her. She felt unease rise in her as smirks grew on their faces.

She realized that everyone in that room had probably seen her photos. The photos that were only meant for Fred to see. They’d all seen her in her most vulnerable and intimate state. And even though she was completely clothed, she’d never felt more exposed.

Vespyr stood behind Fred’s chair, his broad back to her. She cleared her throat as she shifted uncomfortably. Fred continued playing cards, however, as if he hadn’t heard her.

George now looked up at Vespyr. He got a worried look which quickly changed into an apologetic expression. Vespyr couldn’t smile or do anything other than stare blankly at him, too consumed with the thought that he too had probably seen her naked.

Vespyr cleared her throat again but still got no response from Fred. Finally George kicked his brother under the table. Fred winced slightly as George motioned to where Vespyr stood behind them.

She already felt humiliated. She needed to see Fred’s face. She knew once she saw his warm, chocolate eyes and dimples that she’d feel safe again. But when Fred turned to look at her, she felt the opposite of safe. He looked at her like she was an embarrassment, like she was a burden. A nagging duck that had imprinted on him, a pimple that just won’t go away.

Vespyr looked down at her loafers, a hurt feeling coming over her. “Can I please talk to you?” She asked Fred.

Fred glanced back at the other boys at the table. Vespyr wanted to sob when she saw the way they chuckled. Then Fred turned back to her, “Yeah. Sure.” He shrugged, smacking his hand of cards onto the table.

Vespyr practically sprinted out of the common room and into the corridor. Fred followed behind her with his hands tucked into his pockets.

They stood in the corridor, Fred barely able to meet her eyes. The fact that he couldn’t even look at her was enough to tell her that he had done something. She didn’t even have to ask because she already knew. But still, she wanted to hear him say what he had done. And she wanted to know why.

“Please tell me that you didn’t do this, Fred. Please tell me that I’m crazy for even thinking you had something to do with this. T-Tell me that someone stole these,” She threw three of the photos at him, “from your drawer and you didn’t know. Just tell me you didn’t do this.” She said as tears welled up in her eyes.

Fred finally looked at Vespyr. Her nose was bright red and the crystal tears in her eyes made them look unreal. He let out a sigh and Vespyr prepared herself for whatever he was about to say.

“It was so stupid how it started out, Vess. Okay, we were all just fucking around after quidditch practice.” He started.

Vespyr felt a chill run down her spin, “Alright,” She said in a tone that encouraged him to continue.

Fred let his body lean against the wall next to him. “I don’t know who brought it up but we started talking about that stupid fucking list-”

She knew what list he was referring to. She’d seen far too many girls shed tears after finding out they were on it. And she’d also seen girls cry because they didn’t make the list. It was a topic of many conversations for the upper-classmen, and a source of frustration for the school’s staff. Vespyr recalled one time when Lavender gushed about how she desired to be on the list.

The list of Hogwarts most desirable—better known by the quidditch boys as “Hogwarts’ Most Fuckable”.

Vespyr never thought that she would be on the list. It had never even crossed her mind. But the thought of being on it made her feel sick.

“-We were all laughing and then Cormac brought up Ginny’s name, and he said that he was gonna put her on the list unless someone else put another girl on there. And I just got pissed and I didn’t want Ginny on it, so I brought you up.” Fred explained frantically.

Vespyr’s heart began to race. And even still, she felt for him. She still felt a sweet tug in her heart as she looked at him. Even though he was breaking her heart.

“I didn’t know that they were gonna plaster the picture all over the school, Vess, I swear.” He reached for her hands.

Vespyr blinked, gently pulling her hands away. Her stomach started to flip in a horrible way. She felt like she was going to faint. “Y-You showed them those pictures? Why would you- why would you do that?” She asked him.

“They were gonna put Ginny on the list, alright? She’s only in fourth year, I- I panicked. What should I have done?” He tried to make her understand, taking her hands in his again.

This time she snatched her hands away, “You could have told McGonagall, o-or you could have stopped it. I don’t know, Fred, you just could have done something.” She breathed out now.

Fred scoffed, “Yeah, tell McGonagall and have the entire quidditch league think I’m some git.” He defends.

“So you decided that I should suffer the consequences?” She snapped at him.

Fred couldn’t say anything back to her. He had no defense for what he had done. It was a horrible thing to do to someone, especially someone you claim to care about. “It’s just a stupid list, Vespyr.”

Her eyes widened with anger, red clouding her vision. “If it’s just a stupid list, then Ginny could have been on it, right?” She snapped.

“Vess-” He shook his head.

She couldn’t describe what she was feeling. It was a rage and anger that she had never felt in all her life. The betrayal coupled with the dismissal of it all made her livid.

“That’s because it’s not just a stupid list!” She pushed his chest angrily.

Fred pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Vespyr. But when Cormac brought Ginny up, he felt like his hands were tied.

Fred tried pulling Vespyr into his embrace but she pushed against him. “Don’t.” She said sternly.

He sighed, “What do you want me to do?” He asked finally.

She looked up at him as if he’d gone mad, “I want you to stop this. I want you to defend me from all the shit people are saying.” Vespyr told him.

He gave her a confused look. “How am I supposed to defend you, Vespyr? Okay, this isn’t all my fault.” He said.

He knew it sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. He just wanted to feel less guilty about what he had done. He didn’t want to hurt her any further, but that was exactly what he was doing.

“I’m sorry, do you mean to imply that this is my fault?” She asked him.

He shrugged slightly, “I mean, you gave me the pictures, Vess.” He said.

“Because you asked for them!” She yelled back, her finger pressing into his chest.

She picked up the photos that were strewn on the ground. “These pictures, these pictures that you asked me for, were private. These pictures weren’t for your ‘stupid list’.” She ripped them up and threw them at his face.

Fred continued to try to calm her down, but she wasn’t going to calm down. There were no words that he could say to make her any less angry than she felt in that moment. He tried to grab her arms, he tried to hug her even. But there was nothing that was going to make this better.

Tears streamed down her face. Her throat was closing up, causing her voice to be thick. She felt like she might explode from the pressure mounting in her head. “You know I never did anything like that for anyone else before you? I never even thought to give a guy something like that until you. And now- now you do this?” She cried.

Fred’s jaw clenched as he looked at the space between them. “Yeah, well, I didn’t force you.”

Vespyr couldn’t believe him. How could he not see the error in his words? And why was he being so hurtful towards? She thought he cared about her. He said he would always protect her and he would never let anything happen to her. She trusted him and now he was doing the very opposite of protecting her. He was deliberately putting her in harm’s way.

She scoffed and pushed past him, not wanting to hear any more. She was so unimaginably angry at him, at all of them. For doing this to her and then having the nerve to think less of her.

Vespyr paused and turned around to look at him. Fred’s tall frame came into view again. “You’re a sad sack of a man and you will never touch me again.” She said as strongly as she could, but the crack in her voice made her fall short.

Fred hadn’t meant to put any blame onto Vespyr. He wanted to be there for her. God knows that he didn’t want to lose her. But it was like every time he spoke, the wrong words kept coming out. His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

Now she had confirmed it, though she had already known the answer somewhat. Vespyr was alone in this. The pictures were out and the damage was done. Everyone around her was silently, and not so silently, judging her. And Fred was too much of a coward to stand by her through it all.

~

It had been three very long weeks. Vespyr had only spoken to Lavender and Parvati due to the fact that they were the only people who would talk to her. Then there was Neville, who was always nice. And of course Luna, the kindest soul anyone had ever met. And despite some forlorn stares from across the room on Fred’s part, she hadn’t spoken to him either.

She wondered if anyone had empathy for her. If anyone could stop calling her names long enough to actually put themselves in her place and try to understand. If any of them could bestow a little grace upon her.

It seemed like those pictures just wouldn’t go away. She thought it would blow over after a week or so, but it just wasn’t. Every time she thought it might be over, someone would leave a picture in one of her notebooks or her owl would deliver an envelope full of them, or whatever cruel way the student body decided to remind her.

At lunch, Draco Malfoy and his friends came up to her. Draco tapped her on her shoulder and she turned around. When she saw who it was, she knew it couldn’t be good.

Vespyr sighed, “Yes?”

Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini snickered next to him as Pansy Parkinson sneered at Vespyr.

“Sorry, we just wanted to know your price.” Draco smirked, elbowing Blaise playfully.

Lavender glared at him and Vespyr sat there with a confused. She wasn’t sure what he meant by her ‘price’, but knowing Malfoy, it probably wasn’t something nice.

“What?” Vespyr asked in an annoyed tone.

Theodore chuckled, “You know, your price for pictures.” He explained.

Vespyr rolled her eyes, putting down her fork and standing up to leave. The group of them started to laugh as Lavender followed her out.

“Don’t worry, boys. I hear she’s pretty cheap anyway.” Pansy remarked, her words being the last thing Vespyr heard before she left the hall.

~

About two days after that, Dumbledore called Vespyr into his office. He’d told her that he’d been made aware of her predicament and was concerned for her.

To say that Vespyr was embarrassed was an understatement. She was appalled and ashamed. She felt humiliated.

Her mentor, her headmaster, had seen those god awful photos of her. The fact that he was aware made it clear that other members of the staff had to know also. Vespyr found herself examining her teachers for any signs that they had. A slight stutter when they spoke to her, a quick aversion of the eyes, lips pressed in a firm line. They all made her wonder irrationally.

Have they seen my photos? Have they seen my body?

It made her feel sick.

“Well, Miss Morgan, I can assure you I will be looking into this and I will get down to the bottom of who is responsible. Until then, I’ll be tasking Professor McGonagall with deciding your punishment.”

Vespyr’s head shot up at his words, “My punishment?”

Dumbledore nodded authoritatively at the young girl. Vespyr was dumbfounded that she was to be punished also. He should have been consoling her, not scolding.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” She shook her head as she fiddled with her fingers, “I can’t imagine why I’m being punished.” She said truthfully.

“It’s you in the photos, is it not?” He tilted his head forward, his old eyes widening slightly.

Vespyr chuckled almost, “Well yes, but— Professor, I-I’m a victim. I’ve done nothing wrong. My only crime is caving to pressure.” She explained.

Dumbledore sighed and stood up. He went to the bookshelf in the corner of the room. Vespyr turned in her chair to follow him. He placed a hand on his hip and looked back at her.

“Miss Morgan, let’s not be deluded. You have a mind of your own and you’ve used it very keenly in the past. You used that independent mind of yours to decide to take those photos of yourself and give them to whomever you did. Does that diminish the seriousness of what has been done to you? No, it does not. But you are responsible for it in a sense. No one can make you do anything against your will.” Dumbledore said.

Vespyr felt a lump rising in her throat. She didn’t care what anyone thought. She didn’t care if she had decided on her own to give those photos to Fred. The fact of the matter was that they were meant for only him. They were given to him, someone she trusted, during a time when she thought they were in love. Yes, she had given him the photos on her own accord, but it didn’t mean the world got to see them as well.

She grabbed her bag and darted for the door. Dumbledore stepped in her way before she could leave. “Now just wait a minute, Miss Morgan.”

“No. You know what? You have no idea what it’s like to be a young girl in a cruel world like this. A world that shames you for showing too little, as well as shaming you for showing too much. A world that tells you that you must give yourself to a man or else you’re a prude, but also tells you that it makes you some kind of whore if you do decide to have sex. You and people like you wanna place the blame on us girls because you know deep down that you enabled this.” She spit at him.

Dumbledore had stepped back from her, his firm expression faltering at her bold language.

“You, Headmaster, have turned a blind eye to the barbaric environment in this school. You’ve allowed the quidditch teams to harass and torment the female population at Hogwarts by your continued dismissal of that list. And now, to feel less guilty about it all, you intend to place blame onto me.” She continued.

Her hands were balled into fists so tight that her fingernails broke the skin on her palm. She could feel the tears brimming her eyes.

Doesn’t anyone have any sympathy for me?

“Miss Morgan, are you trying to tell me that someone on one of the quidditch teams is responsible for this?” He asked her.

She calmed down very fast, Fred’s dimpled smile coming into her mind. Her anger subsided suddenly as she realized that incriminating the quidditch team meant incriminating Fred. And as angry as she was with him, she didn’t want him to get in trouble. She hated that she still loved him enough not to make him pay.

The pounding in her heart stopped and sped up all at the same time. Her fists unclenched, blood trickling down her palm. She wiped away the tears that formed in her eyes. Some of the blood on her hands smeared on her cheek.

“That’s not my point.” She said firmly. Vespyr sighed as she looked at Dumbledore’s minimally concerned face. “Punish me if you must. It’s not like it’s any worse than anything else that’s happened to me.”

~

Luckily, someone in the world did have sympathy for Vespyr.

Professor McGonagall only gave her an extra study hall as her punishment. But honestly, the extra study hall spared Vespyr from seeing her vicious peers, so it wasn’t much of a punishment. It actually was a reward.

“The world is unkind, Vespyr. Someday I hope you’ll remember what I’ve done for you and make it kinder.” McGonagall had said to her.

Vespyr walked into the common room after her study hall at the end of the day. When she did, all eyes were on her. She’d grown used to the stares, the whispers. But she still got a chill when she felt them.

As she walked past Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she heard Hermione whisper something. “Careful, I hear libertinism is catching these days.” She said and Ron snickered.

Vespyr stopped walking. She closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

She couldn’t let it go on any longer. If she couldn’t defend herself then she had nothing. From the beginning, she resided to ignoring the comments being made about her. But seeing the way Hermione, a girl so intelligent and remarkable, talked about her made her unimaginably angry.

Vespyr turned, “You know, you talk a lot of shit.” She snapped at the other Gryffindor girl.

Hermione wavered slightly. Ron and Harry fell silent along with rest of the room.

Vespyr’s eyes glanced over to Fred, who sat in the corner with George and Lee. His eyes looked sadly upon her, as if he were pleading with her.

Please don’t do this to yourself. His eyes said. Please.

But Vespyr wouldn’t stop.

“Excuse me?” Hermione scoffed.

Vespyr stood her ground, “You heard me, Hermione.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Hermione’s lips curled into an uncomfortable smirk. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie all quietly laughed as they watched the exchange. And then Ginny stood up.

“Just who do you think you are?” Ginny asked.

“I’m a fucking human being, that’s what I think! And you know what? Yeah, I took those pictures of myself and they got out. You all have made it your job not to let me forget. I’ve been called every name and been the butt of every joke under the sun this past month. And all the time, I’ve had no one but Lavender and Parvati by my side.” She said as she tried not to cry.

She looked at Fred and he looked away from her. He felt guilt course through him as he saw the pain in her expression.

“You all are angry with me but you aren’t at all angry with the person who did this.” Vespyr could feel her emotions coming undone.

Fred could hear it in her voice. It was like he was connected to her. He could feel the ache in her heart as if it were his own. He hated that he was the cause of that ache. He’d rationalized what he did to Vespyr by saying it was to protect Ginny, because it was, but that thought just wasn’t enough anymore as Vespyr stood in front of him broken to bits.

He stood up and walked to Vespyr, “That’s enough, let’s get you upstairs-”

“The person that deceived me with flowery language. That gained my trust only to betray it!” She pushed against his chest harshly and he stumbled backwards.

She turned and faced the other side of the room where the rest of the boys were. “Why is it always us that has to be held responsible for your wrongdoings? How come we’re ridiculed and called whores while you all suffer no consequences. Why does no one every get angry at you for victimizing us?” She sobbed at the empty expressions of Cormac McLaggen and others.

When she turned back, she saw that Hermione was red-faced and had a guilty look in her eyes. Everyone else was eerily silent and stared at Vespyr in shock. The only sound audible was Vespyr’s heavy breathing.

“Vespyr, I-” Hermione tried to speak, but Vespyr’s eyes found Ginny again.

Vespyr charged at the fiery-haired girl, “It would have been you. Had Fred not been there, it would have been you on that stupid list and not me. You should thank me!” She screamed at her and Ginny flinched.

Fred forcefully intervened, grabbing Vespyr by the shoulders and pulling her away from his sister. “Enough.” He said firmly. “I’m taking you back to your dorm.”

Vespyr felt anger and sadness boiling deep within her. She couldn’t decide between the two emotions because both were so strong. As Fred guided her up the steps to her dorm, she felt him pulling him into her chest. She couldn’t resist burying her face in his shirt, and she hated herself for it.

Fred sat her down on the bed and Vespyr couldn’t meet his eyes. “Your pajamas,” He said.

Vespyr shook her head, “What?”

“Um... I forgot where you keep them.” He said softly.

Vespyr felt like vomiting. She couldn’t believe that she had presented herself that way in the common room. She wasn’t the kind of person who told people how she felt so openly. She certainly wasn’t one to hysterically scream and cry in front of people. As if she wasn’t humiliated enough, now she had done this.

She crossed her arms over her chest, “Second drawer down on the left side.” She said softly.

Fred hurriedly went to her drawer and fished out a pair of blue pinstripe pajama pants and a blush pink sweater. He remembered that combination after the first night he made love to her.

He placed the neatly folded pajamas next to her. He noticed how she still looked away from him and he felt his heart sink. Her silky hair shined in the dim light of the dorm room. Dainty fingers fidgeted in her lap nervously as her knee bounced up and down.

Fred could feel the urge to brush her hair away so he could see her. He ached you run his fingers through it like he had done so many times before.

Vespyr could feel his attention on her. She should have wanted him to leave, but she felt comforted by him just being there. Instead of wanting to push him out of the room, she wanted to pull him down in the bed with her.

Finally Fred spoke, “Look, Vess-”

“I know, you’re sorry. You’ve told me.” Vespyr interrupted.

Fred sighed, slightly aggravated that she hadn’t let him speak. He sat down next to her and it took Vespyr by surprise. But she was even more shocked when he took her hands in his.

Oh, how she missed the feeling of his skin on hers.

“No, just listen.” He looked at her but she wouldn’t look at him. His thumb ran across her soft skin, rubbing in the crystal tears that fell onto her hands.

“From the moment I met you all those years ago, I vowed to myself that you would be the only girl I ever loved. And even though I’ve had other lovers and girlfriends before you, I always knew that in the end I would only be with you. Because you’re the only person I ever want for the rest of my life. That night that we first made love, I promised to myself I would never hurt you, and if I did I would work everyday to make it up to you.” He squeezed her hands gently.

Vespyr felt her throat closing up. She never knew that he had loved her all that time. For almost a decade, the two of them had loved each other and didn’t know it. She wished that he had given her a sign that he felt the same way.

“So, that’s what I want to propose to you now. I want to know if you’ll let me make it up to you. Because I love you, Vespyr Morgan. And I’m completely and totally uninterested in living a life without you. And I know that I’m a bloke for what I did, and I’d bet on the fact that I’ll fuck up countless times over. But I promise, if you give me a chance, I will do my best to make sure that it’s me that gets hurt and not you.” He placed a hand on her cheek.

Vespyr felt herself rest into his touch. Her tears pooled in his hand. She tried to resist kissing his palm, but her lips were on his calloused skin before she even realized it.

In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know whether to forgive him and kiss him tenderly, or tell him to sod off and slap him. Obviously he wasn’t deserving of her forgiveness. What he did to her was vile and careless. But goodness, she was so in love with him. And when he looked at her with those puppy dog eyes, she felt like she’d been hypnotized.

Her mind was foggy and her heart had found it’s way to her throat. So when she said what she did next, she almost didn’t hear the words fall from her lips.

“I forgive you.” She said.

Fred settled for a moment before she spoke again.

“I forgive you,” She swallowed, “but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She finished.

Fred’s heart dropped yet again. What had he expected? For her to just easily fall back into his arms after what he’d done? She could never trust him again, obviously. How could she be with someone she didn’t trust?

“I do want you to make it up to me, Fred. I may not forget it, but I’m willing to put behind me. Because I love you too, and as angry as I’ve been with you, being away from you has been agony.” She rested her hand on his neck.

Tears pricked Fred’s eyes. He wasted no time pulling the younger Gryffindor into a kiss. He’d missed the way her lips melded to his and the way she warmed under his touch.

He knew as he kissed her that he would rather die than ever hurt his darling again. She was the most prized thing in the world to him, and he’d be damned if she ever suffered at his hand again.

They pulled away and Vespyr rested her head on his shoulder in a hug. Fred gently rubbed her bag, nestling his nose in her candy-scented hair. The two magical beings relished in the moment.

“I love you, Vespyr. More than anything. And I promise that I’m yours as long as you’d like me to be.” Fred spoke.

Vespyr held him tighter as he spoke, squeezing her eyes shut. “I love you, Fred. I will love you for as long as I live.”

[bibbawrites]

Tis The Damn Season - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 8 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 3897 words

Summary: Part 8 of Single Dad!Charlie, Owen spends Christmas and New Year with Charlie and Margaux

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, implied sexual content  pretty sure everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: i was hesitant to write this since its literally march but @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ told me i should do it when i asked her so here it is lol  things are getting a little more steamy...  sorry for any typos im once again editing this half asleep lol  anyways hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​​​​​ @littlemissaddict​​​​​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​​​​​ @headheartbellarke​​​​​​ @lovesanimals​​​​​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​​​​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​​​​​ @fandomxreaders​​​​​​​ @ifilwtmfc @yagorlemmalyn​

December 23rd - 9pm

“Papa!” Margaux exclaimed, running over to Owen as he exited the plane. “You’re back!” 

“I am.” Owen grinned, scooping up the four year old to give her a hug. “Isn’t it past your bed time missy?” 

“Daddy let me stay awake to see you!” Margaux told him, and Owen smiled at the mention of Charlie. 

“I’m glad. Where is Daddy?” He asked. Margaux pointed and Charlie waved from his spot on a chair. 

“Over there.” She said, and Owen grabbed his bag that he had dropped in his haste to grab Margaux before heading over to Charlie. 

“Hey handsome.” Charlie grinned. Owen blushed slightly.

“Hi.” He replied. “Missed you.”

“Missed you more. Ready to go home and have a good sleep?” Charlie questioned and Owen nodded, visibly relaxing at the mention of sleep. 

“I really am.” He agreed. Charlie smiled, taking Owen’s bag. 

“Great. Let’s get out of here.” 

-

Margaux fell asleep in the car on the way home, so once they arrived Charlie took her straight to bed. He pulled her door closed, leaving just enough of a gap to let the hallway light creep into the room, before heading down the hallway to where Owen was stood in the living room. Charlie glanced up, grinning when he noticed that Owen had fallen right into his trap.

“What are you smiling about?” Owen questioned. Charlie smiled.

“Look up.” He said, and Owen obeyed, Charlie walking closer as he did.

“Mistletoe? Really?” Owen raised an eyebrow and Charlie shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Figured it would be my only chance to kiss you.”

Owen rolled his eyes, leaning in and kissing Charlie on the cheek.

“Happy?” He asked. 

Charlie pouted, grabbing Owen’s shirt and dragging him in, connecting their lips in a forceful kiss. Owen’s back hit the wall, his hands finding a place on Charlie’s waist. Charlie bit at Owen’s lip and Owen groaned, allowing Charlie to slip his tongue into Owen’s mouth.

Owen pulled away, panting, and pressed his forehead to Charlie’s.

“Is Maggie fully asleep?” He murmured against Charlie’s lips. Charlie nodded.

“Yes.” He replied. Owen grinned.

“Good.”

And with that he grabbed Charlie’s shirt, dragging him to the bedroom.

-

December 24 - Christmas Eve

Charlie woke the next morning, still naked and tangled up in Owen’s arms. He opened his eyes to find Owen already awake, playing on his phone.

“You’re awake.” Owen said, placing his phone down. Charlie hummed in response. Owen bit his lip.

“So last night was...” He trailed off.

“Yep...” Charlie replied simply. Owen hesitated.

“I don’t usually hook up with people I’m not dating.” He admitted.

“Well at least you can’t get pregnant.” Charlie joked.

“Hmm.” Owen replied, clearly not amused by Charlie’s joke. Charlie frowned.

“O?” He spoke.

“Yeah?” Owen replied.

“Do you regret it?” Charlie asked. Owen sighed.

“I don’t know Char. Remember what I said in Hawaii? I’m just not sure if I’m ready to do... this.” He said. Charlie’s heart sunk.

“But sex is okay?” He questioned, somewhat bitterly. As much as he loved Owen he wasn’t about to enter into some friends with benefits situation.

“It was a one time thing.” Owen mumbled. 

“Oh...” Charlie’s voice was small, and for a moment he considered wriggling out of Owen’s grip.

“Please don’t shut me out like in Norman.” Owen begged. Charlie hesitated.

“I won’t. I just don’t fully understand.” He said.

“Charlie...” Owen sighed. “Look, I don’t know about you-“

“But I’m feeling 22.” Charlie interrupted. Owen bit back a smile.

“No, you dork. I’m trying to be serious here.” He said, and Charlie moved so that he could see Owen’s face.

“I’m listening.” He assured Owen. Owen took a breath.

“Look, I’m not out to anyone. I have no clue what I am, and before I met you I’d never even considered being with a guy. But I met you and everything changed. I guess technically you were my sexual awakening.” He explained. Charlie traced a pattern on Owen’s arm. 

“You don’t need to have a label, I don’t. Just love who you want to love.” He said, and Owen sighed. 

“I just need a bit more time to figure this out.” He spoke after a short pause. 

“And you can have it. But can I at least get one last kiss? And promise me we won’t stop snuggling.” Charlie put on his best puppy eyes and he could see Owen caving. 

“We could never stop snuggling.” Owen said. “And as for the kiss...”

He lent in, pressing a gentle kiss to Charlie’s lips, pulling away with a grin when Charlie tried to deepen the kiss.

“There.” Owen grinned and Charlie groaned.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He muttered. 

“Oh I have a bit of an idea.” Owen smirked, his gaze drifting downwards towards Charlie’s naked bottom half. Charlie blushed slightly, swatting at Owen’s chest.

“Shut up, you know that you can’t control morning wood.” He defended, slightly embarrassed that Owen could feel that he was hard. 

“I know.” Owen grinned cheekily. “You should probably fix that though. I’ll go wake up Maggie.”

He climbed out of Charlie’s bed, still naked from the night before, and made a big show of finding his boxers, knowing that Charlie was watching his every move. He found them and pulled them on, grabbing a pair of Charlie’s sweatpants and putting them on too before turning to look at Charlie.

“Have fun.” He winked, before leaving the room, and Charlie in it. Charlie let his head flop down onto the pillow with a sigh, and not for the first time considered the fact that Owen was literally going to be the death of him.

-

Charlie entered the kitchen a little bit later and ignored the look Owen gave him, instead heading over to Margaux and wrapping his arms around her.

“Good morning baby, happy Christmas Eve.” He greeted. Margaux grinned, her mouth full of froot loops. 

“Daddy! Santa comes tonight.” She exclaimed, and Charlie nodded, matching her excitement level. 

“He sure does, are you excited?” He asked and Margaux nodded quickly. 

“Yeah!” She squealed. Charlie ruffled her hair, turning his attention back to Owen. 

“Do you have plans today O? Mags and I are gonna go to the Mall to get a photo with Santa.” He questioned. Owen nodded. 

“I actually have some last minute shopping to do.” He said. Charlie smiled. 

“Cool, you can come with us and go off while we do our photo then.” He suggested, and Owen nodded. 

“Great.” He said. 

“Daddy?” Margaux spoke up. 

“Yeah baby?” Charlie glanced down at the four year old, who was looking at him in concern. 

“What happened to your neck? Did you bump it while playing?” She asked innocently. 

Charlie’s eyes widened, and Owen choked on his tea.

“Yeah baby, Daddy fell over.” Charlie agreed.

“Silly Daddy.” Margaux giggled. 

“Yeah, silly Daddy. Why don’t you go find your Christmas scrunchie for Daddy to put your hair up?” Charlie said, trying to distract her, and it worked. 

“Ooh okay!” Margaux grinned, climbing out of her chair and running to her room. 

“You gave me a fucking hickey?” Charlie said once he knew Margaux was out of earshot. 

“In my defence... yeah no I don’t have one.” Owen giggled. Charlie glared at him. 

“Fuck you Joyner.” He muttered.

“We already did. Last night.” Owen winked, rushing out of the room before Charlie could even register his cheeky words and process what just happened.

-

A few hours later and Charlie and Margaux were lined up ready to get their Santa photo taken. They reached the front of the line and the photographer gave them a welcome smile. 

“Okay sweetie are you ready to meet Santa?” The photographer asked and Margaux nodded. 

“Yeah.” She said. The photographer smiled. 

“Great, Dad are you gonna be in the photo?” She questioned. 

“Yeah I am.” Charlie replied. 

“Okay cool, just head on through.” She instructed, and Charlie carried Margaux in, sitting down on the allocated stool with her on his knee as they smiled for the photo. Once they had taken a few and the photographer was happy it was time to talk to the Santa. 

“Ho ho ho, what’s your name little one?” He asked and Margaux smiled. 

“Margaux.” She said confidently. 

“And what do you want for Christmas Margaux?” Santa asked. 

“A pony.” Margaux told him and Charlie grinned. 

“Oh, well you know it might be a bit hard for Santa to fit a pony in his sleigh. Is there anything else?” The Santa said, trying his best to redirect the four year old and not make any promises. 

“Yeah...” She glanced up at Charlie before looking back at Santa. “I want Papa to stay with me and Daddy all the time and not go away again.”

Charlie bit his lip as he made eye contact with the Santa, who shot him a slightly sympathetic look.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Santa told her softly and Margaux smiled. Charlie took that as their cue to leave, standing up quickly and saying one last goodbye to the Santa before leaving. He paid for the photo and collected the print outs, one for him and one to send back to Canada for his mum. 

They left the photo area and headed through the mall to where they were meeting up with Owen. 

“Daddy?” Margaux spoke up. Charlie hummed in response. 

“Yeah Mags?” He asked. 

“Will Papa have to go home?” Margaux questioned, her voice soft. Charlie sighed. 

“Probably baby. You know Papa lives in Oklahoma, he has to go back to Bindi, remember?” He told her, and Margaux pouted. 

“I wish he wouldn’t go.” She said, and Charlie nodded, spotting Owen on a bench just ahead of them. 

“Me too baby, me too.” He agreed as they reached Owen who jumped up quickly. 

“There you are! How was Santa, what did you ask him for?” He questioned. Charlie bit his lip. 

“We’ll talk about it later.” He said, and Owen frowned but dropped it nonetheless, changing the topic to a toy that he had seen, leaving Charlie to zone out and consider how exactly he was meant to explain Margaux’s words to Owen without hurting him. 

-

It wasn’t until later that evening that Owen brought the topic up again. He and Charlie were sitting in the living room, and Margaux was in her room, taking a late afternoon nap since she had been exhausted when they got home from the mall. 

“What did she ask for?” Owen asked, and Charlie bit his lip. 

“At first a pony. Luckily Santa dodged that one and said it was too big to fit in the sleigh. So he asked her what else she wanted, and she said she wanted you to stay with us and not go home.” He admitted. Owen was silent.

“Oh...” He said after a moment. Charlie nodded awkwardly. 

“Yeah.” He replied. They fell silent, before Charlie spoke again. 

“Owen, I promise I didn’t say anything to her. I’m not trying to guilt you into staying by brainwashing her.” He said, and Owen nodded. 

“I know, don’t freak out.” He replied, grabbing Charlie’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. 

“I just don’t want you to freak out.” Charlie explained. 

“I get it. She’s four Charlie, she just wants her Papa around more often.” Owen sighed, and Charlie nodded. 

“She’s not the only one.” He said. Owen shut his eyes. 

“I know. I’m thinking about it, trust me. But it’s not an easy decision to make.” He mumbled. 

“I know it’s not. Take your time. Now should we go have ourselves a nice Christmas Eve dinner?” Charlie said, deciding to change the topic as quickly as he could. 

“Sounds good. I’ll get Maggie.” Owen agreed. 

Charlie sighed as Owen left the room to go find the four year old. He wanted nothing more than for the blond boy to stay for as long as he could, but that was unrealistic.

He knew that all he could do was just enjoy his time with Owen while he could.

-

December 25 - Christmas Day

“Daddy! Papa! Wake up!”

Charlie’s eyes fluttered open as his four year old bounced on the bed, narrowly missing jumping on his and Owen’s tangled legs.

“It’s Christmas!” Margaux squealed.

“Margaux.” Owen whined. “It’s so early.”

“But Santa came.” Margaux flopped down, landing on Charlie’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, placing a soft kiss on her messy curls.

“Merry Christmas baby.” He whispered.

“Merry Christmas Daddy. Present time?” She grinned. Charlie shook his head, glancing towards Owen, who had rolled over and was attempting to go back to sleep.

“Cuddle for a bit first. Give Papa a chance to wake up.” He told her, and Margaux nodded, snuggling closer to her father.

“Okay.”

-

Almost an hour later and Owen was finally awake and Charlie couldn’t hold Margaux off any longer.

The three of them set up in the living room, where all of Margaux’s presents were under the large fake Christmas tree.

Charlie sat leaning against Owen as Margaux opened her presents, and once she was happily playing with a new truck that she had gotten Charlie offered Owen his presents.

“This one is from Mags.” He explained, as Owen opened the present to find a drawing that Margaux had done of the three of them, framed nicely.

“It’s beautiful. You did a great job Maggie.” Owen complimented and Margaux grinned.

“Thank you!” She exclaimed. Charlie grabbed a second present.

“This one is from me.” He handed the small box to Owen who opened it, revealing a key. 

“It’s a key to this apartment. I figured even if you don’t end up moving here at least you can still come any time you want.” Charlie explained and Owen smiled. 

“Thank you Char.” He said softly, and Charlie nodded. Owen reached down, grabbing the last wrapped present and handing it to Charlie. Charlie took it and opened it to find a photo book filled with photos of himself and Margaux, Owen and Margaux, memories from set and their adventures together and more. 

“This is really sweet Owen.” Charlie smiled softly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Owen replied, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Charlie’s head, as Charlie rested his head on Owen’s shoulder, the both of them watching Margaux play with small smiles on their faces. 

-

The rest of their Christmas Day passed quickly and before he knew it Charlie was tucking Margaux into bed with a kiss on the head, and leaving her room to go have a shower.

Almost an hour later he reentered the kitchen where Owen had cleaned up everything from dinner and was sitting on a chair fiddling with his phone.

“Beer?” Charlie asked and Owen’s head shot up.

“Please.” He smiled and Charlie opened the fridge, grabbing two bottles of beer and handed one to Owen before sitting down across from him.

“So, first Christmas away from home, how you feeling?” Charlie questioned. Owen shrugged. 

“Honestly, pretty good. I was worried I’d be homesick but I wasn’t at all.” He said and Charlie grinned. 

“That’s really good. Cleaning up after Mags all day would have been a good distraction.” He replied and Owen groaned, making Charlie laugh. 

“I don’t know how you do this 24/7. You’re literally a superhero.” 

“Nah, just learnt to leave the messes until after she’s finished. Much easier.” 

Owen glared at him. 

“You say that now, after I spent the whole day picking shit up?” He spat, but Charlie knew he wasn’t really angry. 

“In my defence you’ve lived with her before. Rookie error from someone with experience.” Charlie retaliated and Owen flipped him off, the both of them crumbling into a fit of giggles. 

“Daddy?” Margaux’s voice came and Charlie instantly stopped laughing, his whole focus on his daughter. 

“Hey, why are you up?” He asked. 

“Bad dream.” Margaux climbed into Charlie’s lap and he wrapped his arms around her, beginning to rock her slightly like he did when she was a baby.

“Wanna talk about it?” He questioned and Margaux pouted. 

“I couldn’t find you.” She told him. Charlie placed a reassuring kiss on her head. 

“I’m here, and I’m never gonna leave you, okay?” He whispered, and Margaux nodded. 

“Yeah.” Her voice was already beginning to sound sleepy again. Charlie ran his hands through her curls, detangling a knot with his fingers. 

“You wanna stay here and cuddle Daddy until you fall asleep?” He asked, moving to rub her back, and Margaux nodded, snuggling her head into Charlie’s chest.

“Love you Daddy.” She mumbled. Charlie smiled. 

“I love you too baby. So much.” He replied. 

They sat in silence until Charlie was sure that Margaux was asleep. 

“Never get a break.” He joked quietly. Owen shook his head in awe. 

“You’re literally the perfect dad, you know that right?” He complimented, and Charlie blushed slightly. 

“I wouldn’t say perfect.” He mumbled, but Owen shook his head. 

“You are.” He said. Charlie smiled across the table at him. 

“Thanks O.” He whispered. 

“I mean it.” Owen smiled. 

“I appreciate it. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to become a parent at 18, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re young and stupid and don’t know how a condom works.” Charlie shrugged, and Owen gave him a small glare. 

“So you made one mistake, but look at what came from it.” Charlie looked down at Margaux as Owen spoke. “The best present that you ever got.” 

“Very true.” Charlie agreed. “And I’d never want to return her for the world.” 

-

New Year’s Eve

“Do you drink champagne?” Charlie asked Owen as the three of them walked through the grocery store on New Years Eve, getting the last minute snacks and drinks for their night in. Charlie pushed a trolley with Margaux in it, and Owen walked along beside them. 

“Yeah.” Owen said. Charlie smiled, stopping the trolley. 

“Great, I’ll get a bottle then. Mags, what drink do you want as your special drink?” He asked the four year old, who didn’t even hesitate. 

“Pink milk!” She grinned, pointing, and Owen grabbed the bottle from the fridge next to them.

“Okay, snacks.” Charlie said, crossing off ‘Margaux drink’ on his shopping list.

He pushed the trolley out of the aisle and through the store to the snack aisle, stopping when he reached it. 

“Okay, go wild.” He instructed, and both Margaux and Owen cheered, with the blond boy grabbing whatever Margaux asked for, putting it into the trolley along with his own snack choices. 

Charlie grinned as he watched them shop, adding a few of his own things into the mix. 

He could get used to this. 

-

Later that night Charlie, Owen and Margaux had made themselves comfortable on the couch, both Charlie and Owen having a glass of champagne while Margaux drank strawberry milk out of a plastic champagne glass. 

“How long Daddy?” Margaux asked, looking up at her dad. Charlie glanced at his phone, seeing that it was just after 11pm. He was shocked she had made it this long without crashing. 

“One more hour baby.” He told her and Margaux nodded. 

“Okay.”

She turned back to the TV which was playing a countdown of the best songs of the 2010′s, and they fell into a comfortable silence only filled with small talk and songs for about 45 minutes until Owen broke the silence. 

“Char.” He whispered, and Charlie looked up. Owen gestured to Margaux and a small smile appeared on Charlie’s face as his gaze landed on the four year old, who had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep.

“Should we put her to bed and bring out more alcohol?” Owen questioned and Charlie nodded with a grin. 

“Sounds good. I’ll put her in bed, you get the drinks?” He suggested, and Owen nodded, placing a soft kiss goodnight on Margaux’s head before heading into the kitchen.

Charlie picked the four year old up and carried her to her bed, tucking her in and kissing her before heading back out to Owen, who had already poured two glasses of champagne. Charlie sat down on the couch next to Owen, grabbing one of the glasses and holding it up.

“Cheers.” He said, and they clinked glasses before drinking. Charlie placed his glass down before looking at Owen. 

“5 minutes til midnight, you ready for 2020 to be over?” He asked. Owen shrugged. 

“Mostly. There were some good things that happened this year.” He said. 

“Yeah it wasn’t all bad.” Charlie agreed. They fell silent for a moment. 

“Hey Charlie?” Owen spoke up, his voice slightly shaky. 

“Yeah?” Charlie turned, giving Owen his full attention. 

“I made a decision, about where I want to live...” Owen started, and Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. He was pretty sure he knew what Owen’s decision would be, but he wanted to hear it just to be sure. 

“Yeah?” He prompted. Owen looked down. 

“I think I’m gonna stay in Oklahoma, I’m not ready to leave yet.” He said, and Charlie nodded, understanding. 

“I get that.” Owen looked up. 

“But I have a compromise.” He said with a small smile. Charlie raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“I’m gonna get my own place. I found one that’s really nice and affordable, and it has a study that could be turned into a bedroom for Margaux, and you could come stay with me whenever you wanted.” Owen explained, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Margaux having her very own room in Oklahoma to stay any time. But there was one other thing... 

“A room for Margaux?” Charlie questioned and Owen nodded. “So where would I sleep?”

“Uh, I was kinda counting on you sleeping in my room with me...” Owen trailed off hesitantly. Charlie’s stomach fluttered at the thought. 

“You’d want that?” He asked, eyes wide, and Owen nodded shyly. 

“I do. I love waking up with you Char. I love hearing your morning voice, and seeing your messy hair, and the way you kiss my face while you’re still half asleep. And I love having you in my arms, or being in your arms.” He rambled, and it took everything in Charlie not to kiss him. 

“You really like me, huh.” Charlie teased. Owen blushed, rolling his eyes. 

“I do. I figured it was obvious, you know, when we literally had sex last week.” He retorted. Charlie grinned. 

“Owen.” He said. 

“Charlie.” Owen mimicked his tone. 

“I would love that.” Charlie stated, bringing the conversation back to the original topic. 

“I’m glad. Actually, I have something else to tell you too.” Owen told him. 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Charlie tilted his head. 

“I think I’m r-“

Owen was cut off by the countdown to midnight starting on the TV, and he stopped talking with a sigh as both boys grabbed their champagne as they counted.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!”

Charlie lent in, placing a soft kiss on Owen’s cheek, not wanting to push the boundaries.

“Happy New Year Owen.” He said. Owen bit his lip, and Charlie missed the longing look in Owen’s eyes, his gaze drifting to Charlie’s lips. He swallowed, shaking his head before replying.

“Happy New Year Charlie.”