#so many tags i should find a consistent one to use.....

[cosmictrails]

screenshot redraw of our aurora concert! and our 1st post :P

the screenshot undercut >>>

[elumish]

In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.

I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.

For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.

Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.

Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.

Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?

Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.

Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.

Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.

Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.

[thewinter-eden]

Damn Puppy Dog Eyes

images are mine (except middle KS pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

in honor of so many of you being so sweet and sending me birthday wishes yesterday, I was extra motivated to get this one finished and posted as soon as possible. You all made me feel so loved and appreciated and I'll never be able to thank you enough. So to ATTEMPT to thank you, I got this goofball finished.

ALSO - y'all go read the story that @ramadiiiisme wrote for me as a birthday present <3 if you love Ateez' Yeosang (as you SHOULD), you'll enjoy the bit of fluff that my bestie outdid herself with. (p.s. hey bestie I put Wooyoung in this story just for you hope you love it sorry he's a lil twerp but he kinda is ok bye) find my birthday story HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

part 7 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Kim Seungmin x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: werewolf!Seungmin saves your life from a pack, inadvertently earning your unwavering loyalty, even though he’s just as much a killer as they were. Sometimes he can’t decide if he wants to wrap you up in bubble wrap to save you from your own idiotic self or dump your annoying ass back where he found you. (warnings below the cut)

word count: 6k

warnings: Fear, attempted murder, werewolves hunting humans, reader makes dumb decisions, Seungmin’s gonna pull his own hair out, Ateez, group dynamic manipulation (Jeongin is SKZ alpha, Yunho is ATZ alpha), language, undertones of violence (canine-type pecking order fights), reader is referred to as ‘the bitch’ occasionally (canine term more so than derogatory term), undertones of domestic abuse (non-physically-violent, reader is unhappy), Yunho SLANDER (I’m sorry Yunho I love you), reader is touch starved, cuddles

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

He's noticed you here and there around campus.

You're always with Yunho, or one of his pack. The entire student body knows who you are, knows you belong to one of the strongest packs on campus, knows that you're engaged to the alpha. To Yunho, one of the most prolific killers of your generation.

No one bothers you.

The first time Seungmin recognizes you by yourself, you're on the outskirts of campus, practicing some kind of flowy, yoga-like, graceful movements in the back of the baseball field. He watches you for only a few seconds before his eyes are scanning your surroundings, checking the bleachers for Yunho or the other members of his pack who are always hovering around you with possessive consistency. There's no one. You are alone.

Your focus surprises him. The way you control your motions, the finest muscles in perfect form, your expression intensely concentrated, is different from the behavior he's seen from you so far. You're always smiling, always latched onto Yunho, always fluttering around him and his pack to provide companionship and servitude whenever called upon. Now, though, you are planted firmly in your own autonomy, exercising some kind of active meditation that speaks volumes of your true self.

Seungmin turns away from you and doesn't look back. To be caught gazing at Yunho's fiancé with anything other than perhaps disinterested reverence means trouble.

The next time he sees you, you're in a restaurant alone, watching the clock tick away the minutes as Yunho stands you up. You're quiet again, your face peacefully still in your fiancé's absence, your hands folded neatly in your lap and not an ounce of surprise in your body that you're being forgotten once again.

After over an hour of waiting, a member of Yunho's pack arrives and hovers over your table. When you meet the eyes of the man who's come to pick you up, you've got a manufactured embarrassed smile on your face and you get up, already laughing and chatting about something that you had no thoughts of only moments before.

The man herds you outside into his car, pays the bill for the glass of wine that you've barely sipped, and chauffeurs you off into the night.

A few weeks go by before he sees you again, and this time you’re in the grocery store with two of Yunho’s pack, and you’re not smiling anymore. Your hands tremble as you reach for packages of meat and cartons of eggs, your eyes downcast and darting to clock the positions of your companions at every turn.

Each time he catches a glimpse of you between aisles and around fruit displays, he notices the dynamics have shifted from what they usually are. Because they’re not your companions, this time; this time they’re your keepers; your captors.

Seungmin notices a familiar face pop up obliviously from behind a shelf of fresh bread, turning over a package of sourdough in his hands to check the baker’s date. The young man, one of Seungmin’s own friends, bounces the loaf of bread in his palm once and then tosses it into his basket before moving on to the display of cheeses.

You noticed the guy at the same time that Seungmin did, but you whip your head away and make a beeline for an aisle at the complete opposite side of the store to avoid him.

Both of your companions have already caught sight of the man you’re trying to stay away from, and they’re hurrying after you with hostile glares pointed back at him.

The entire exchange is odd, especially since Seungmin knows for sure that his friend Felix wouldn’t be stupid enough to make a move on Yunho’s woman.

Despite your obvious attempts at avoidance, you run into Felix at the checkout line, which Seungmin witnesses from a spot further back in line, his own groceries piled high in his own basket. He hears Felix chirp a cheerful hello to you, and then a more cautious one to both of your escorts.

You murmur a quiet response back, and your men say nothing.

“I just wanted to thank you again for carrying me on that partner project last week.” Felix is saying, completely ignoring the darkening auras of the wolves beside you. “I was getting worried about my grade there for a minute.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” You respond kindly. “Your part definitely tied the project together.” You’re dumping your items on the conveyor belt as quickly as you can, desperately trying to get checked out and away from Felix as fast as possible.

The line moves and Seungmin finds himself ever so slightly closer to you.

Felix laughs softly and reaches to lay a casual and friendly pat to your arm, a move that Seungmin has seen him replicate hundreds of times with dozens of friends and acquaintances—a move that means nothing—but the shorter of your two companions bullies his way between you and Felix with a snarl.

“Woo!” You snap, snatching him by his sleeve. You can’t move him, you can’t actually call him off, but the frantic tone in your voice and the desperate plea in your eyes convinces Felix to back off without a fight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Felix shakes his head at you, ignoring Wooyoung entirely. “It’s not your fault they don’t have the social experience to recognize a harmless interaction. But I hear that’s a common problem for lapdogs.”

Seungmin can feel the tension thicken between the four of you and his own hackles rise instinctively, his hand gripping his basket with enough strength to bruise.

“That’s not helpful right now,” You say, and loop an arm through Wooyoung’s to hold close. You turn to the taller man behind you, the one who hasn’t torn his smoldering glare from Felix. “We need to pay and go. Yunho doesn’t want to cause problems with another pack, and there’s no reason to waste energy on him.” You shrug a dismissive shoulder at Felix, who rolls his eyes and walks away to join another checkout line. “He was just a group project partner, Mingi. He’s friendly with everyone.”

The larger man glances at you, then over the divider to Felix, then to the end of your line to Seungmin.

Of course he’s already clocked Seungmin.

There’s a reason he was chosen to guard you.

Evidently deciding that getting you out of the grocery store is easier than dealing with a confrontation from two members of a competing pack, Mingi tugs his wallet from a back pocket and pays for the groceries. He tosses the bags into Wooyoung’s grasp and then turns you with a hand on your back and herds you out of the store.

Seungmin doesn’t breathe again until their vehicle speeds you out of the parking lot.

The reason for your sudden protection detail becomes a little clearer the next time he finds you at the end of the baseball field, practicing your meditative *tai chi—*when he finds you crying. Your arms and legs carrying you with perfect poise through the movements, your face scrunched with pain and soaked with tears.

He’s on alert at the sight of your obvious distress, his senses kicking into overdrive to determine the cause of your ache, but he can’t identify a source. Instead of endorphins and blood, obvious markers of physical pain and abuse, you smell like cortisol and low blood sugar. Despite the over-controlling appearance of things, Yunho doesn’t seem to be hurting you, which does surprise him.

But you are unhappy.

That much is obvious.

You’re unhappy, you’re pulling away from your perfect fiancé to find time for yourself, and Yunho is feeling his grasp on you slipping. He can’t risk suffering a humiliating breakup that the entire student body would find out about, so he’s using his pack to keep an eye on you.

Seungmin knows what will happen to you if you continue to be unhappy—what happens to all humans who overstay their welcome with Yunho’s help. Either he will manufacture a breakup that humiliates you instead, or you will be disposed of.

Seungmin collects his gear, bouncing a baseball thoughtfully in the palm of his hand. You’re still unaware of his presence, still crying into your morning meditation, but he can’t help but feel like he’s witnessing your last moments on earth.

It’s not his business.

He leaves you there, headed for the showers, and hopes nobody had seen the indecision in his eyes.

The next time he finds himself close to you is an accident. His head is down, thumbing through the pages in his notebook, looking for a homework sheet that he’s suppose to turn in by today, when he’s hit by the scent of tea tree and blackberry—and then a shoulder jabs into his ribs.

He lurches back, hand lifting from his notebook to push the offending body away from him, and finds himself holding you by the arm, blinking down into your apologetic face.

You’re babbling regretfully, asking him if he’s okay, checking the ground to see if he’s dropped anything, but he’s just watching the way you’re avoiding his eyes.

You’re terrified, overwhelmed by the sheer number of werewolves on campus. He can feel you shaking beneath his hand. For a moment he wonders if he was wrong in his assessment of Yunho’s treatment of you, if you are actually being physically abused—based on the way you flinch away from his blank stare, you’ve clearly had some bad interactions with wolves.

“I’m so sorry.” You say again. “I’ll watch where I’m going.”

Seungmin lets you go. He never should have touched you, not even as a reflex. You’re Yunho’s woman, and now his scent is on you. “It’s fine.” He says simply, and shoulders past you.

He’ll hear of this again.

Jeongin will hear all about the member of his pack who put his hands on an alpha’s fiancé.

“Let me make it up to you!” Your voice cries from behind him, desperate to smooth things over and help him explain this unintentional rendezvous. You know how wolves can be. You know what’s just happened—you’ll probably be punished for it.

“Forget it.” Seungmin snaps back, barely looking over his shoulder. “Leave me alone.”

You find him the next day in the library, studying by himself. He can smell you coming, now that he’s gotten a scent of you up close, and his body immediately coils, tightening to leave. Nothing good can come of the two of you being seen together, much less studying together. You dump your books on his table and plop yourself down into the chair across from him.

Seungmin abruptly forgets his topic of study, stunned by your brazen neglect of cultural boundaries. “Are you stupid?” He snaps, whipping his gaze around. Your posse seems to have abandoned you today, but the morning is young. “You need to stop talking to my pack.” It’s harsh and biting, but it’s best for everyone.

You’re human—you don’t understand.

You can’t be getting buddy-buddy with Felix, you can’t be seeking out Seungmin. There are enough members of the pack you’re marrying into to keep you company without dragging another one into the drama that is your human desire for friendship and attention. You’re going to cause a fight, and you’re going to get someone killed.

But you just roll your eyes and flip open the cover of a textbook. “Things aren’t working out with Yunho.”

Seungmin’s scraping his things together, dumping handfuls of pencils and scrap paper and sticky notes into his backpack. “I don’t care.” And he really, really doesn’t. He thinks you’re pathetic, trapped in a relationship that isn’t all you thought it was going to be, and now you don’t realize there’s no way out of it. “Does Yunho know that? Because your guard dogs are still stalking you.” He juts his chin towards the front desk, where Wooyoung and Mingi are hovering, glowering at you.

Your complexion washes out ever so slightly.

At least you realize a little bit of the severity of the situation.

He catches your eyes finding his again and for a second he pauses in stacking his books. “What?”

“I don’t like these rules.” You say. “Why can’t I talk to you just because of Yunho?”

Seungmin’s backpack zips with a definitive sound. “Don’t you know anything? Wolves are territorial.” He shoves his chair back and gets to his feet. “Stop trying to talk to me. You’re not worth killing an alpha for.” He doesn’t catch your shocked expression as he spins on his heel and stalks out of the library.

And of course you don’t listen. Of course you think you know better than what everyone is telling you. You must think that, because Seungmin can’t imagine another reason that you would show up at his doorstep, banging on his dorm room door, sobbing your pitiful heart out in front of him.

You must be either stupid or arrogant.

He can only stare at you, one hand clutching the door, when you barrel straight at him and he finds a miserable, weeping human wrapped around his chest. Your tears are soaking into his throat, your heart hammering against his chest, and all he feels is panic.

Because you’re emitting hormones and chemicals that every wolf in the building can smell and you’re smearing them all over his clothes.

He doesn’t even question why you’re crying. In two seconds he’s shoved you off of him and slammed the door in your face, and in the next two seconds he’s bolted across his dorm and plunged himself into the shower to scrub every last remnant of you off of him.

It’s not until he’s out of the shower, toweling through his hair, tugging on fresh clothes, that he realizes that he hasn’t been able to get the image of you bawling like a lost lamb out of his head.

The shower isn’t enough. He’s meeting Jisung and Felix the next morning to study, and as soon as he approaches the table both older boys pin their gazes on him suspiciously. They’re taking in his scent, absorbing the intermingling of his familiar musk and the treacherous addition of your tea tree shampoo and warm skin.

“Dude.” Jisung sniffs, face scrunching once. He leans in, pushing his nose into Seungmin’s hair and bouncing back with a bright laugh when the younger man shoves him away. “Who did you fuck last night? You reek of woman.”

Seungmin swings a half-assed fist at Jisung and lets him dodge it. “I didn’t fuck anyone. Shut up.”

Felix’s eyes widen, leaning closer as well, and then he flinches back in surprise. “That’s Yunho’s girl. You smell like Yunho’s fiancé.”

A second of silence settles over the library before Jisung’s hand claps down on Seungmin’s shoulder. “You fucked Yunho’s fiancé?” He hears himself as soon as he’s said it, smacking a hand over his own mouth and ducking his head to avoid Seungmin’s burning glare. To take the target off his own back, he squints at Felix. “How do you know what she smells like?”

“We had a class project.” Felix frowns. “It took us a week and I nearly got gutted by Wooyoung and Mingi every time we had to meet for it. Are you fucking insane?” He directs the last question to the youngest.

Seungmin slams his textbooks down at the table, expression dark with rage. “I didn’t fuck anybody.” He snaps. “She showed up at my dorm last night and I shut the door in her face.” He hopes it will be enough to change the subject, but Jisung just inches closer. “I didn’t talk to her,” He grumbles before any more questions can be thrown haphazardly across the table. “I don’t know why she came to me. I’ve met her exactly once and told her to leave us alone.”

“I’ve heard she’s not vibing with Yunho anymore.” Jisung says, flipping casually through his notes. “She’s not as enamored with his freaky possessive tendencies as she thought she would be.” He completely ignores when Felix kicks him under the table. “And, actually, I’ve heard that his second in command is higher on his fuck list than she is.”

Seungmin kicks him too, being the second to notice to looming presence approaching from behind Jisung. “Shut up, hyung.” he grumbles. “This is none of our business.”

“Leave it alone,” Felix agrees. “It doesn’t concern us.”

“Yeah, but come on.” Jisung barrels on. “Why wouldn’t she be pissed to find out she’s second to Mingi after being paraded around like a queen for two years?”

The approaching wolves decide to make themselves known as Seungmin’s eyes roll to the ceiling. “Maybe don’t believe everything you hear.”

At the sound of Wooyoung’s voice in his ear, Jisung scrambles up and spins to face the two pack mates who have overheard him yapping. He looks appropriately abashed and rubs the back of his neck once but doesn’t back down. “We’re just talking,” He says, and flashes them both a glare.

The larger of the two, San, edges closer. It’s a very clear warning.

Wooyoung’s eyes flicker to Seungmin and his nostrils flare. “That one smells like the bitch.”

It’s enough to raise Seungmin’s hackles, even though he knows it isn’t meant the way humans mean it. More than that, it’s almost affectionate—because you aren’t properly a bitch; you’re not a wolf; but they accept you as belonging to Yunho anyway, like you are one.

They just don’t seem to care that you don’t want to be.

“It was nothing.” Seungmin says lowly. His tone is threatening, low enough that Wooyoung thinks twice about jumping in his face. “She came to the wrong room, I sent her away.”

San’s eyes narrow. “She’s come home reeking of you before. This isn’t the first time, pup.”

The nickname does not go over well.

Jisung utters a reverberating snarl that seems to eliminate the almost comical height difference between himself and San, while Felix rises from his seat and lifts his chin in a challenge.

The rest of the students begin to gather their things and move seats, giving the wolves a wide berth.

“We have no interest in you or any of your toys.” Jisung announces flatly. “Go home before you embarrass yourselves.”

Wooyoung takes a step back, but he has one final blow to land. “Watch yourself, dog.” His eyes are on Seungmin. “Yunho doesn’t take kindly to stealing.” He looks gleeful as he utters his next words. “And he doesn’t keep tainted goods.”

Seungmin doesn’t even know your name. He’s tuned everything about you out ever since he first started noticing you around campus. He doesn’t want to know you, doesn’t want to spend time with you, doesn’t want to think about you.

He especially doesn’t want to think about how pretty you are, or how kind and innocent you seem, or the way that your expression sinks into loneliness when you think you’re alone. He doesn’t want to know your name, or why you’re engaged to Yunho, or why you’re suddenly unhappy that you’re engaged to Yunho.

He doesn’t want to know why you showed up sobbing at his door after he was so cold towards you, or why you thought throwing yourself into his arms was a safer option than sharing your burdens with your own fiancé.

But when he hears you weeping once again, your wails echoing through the woods, he doesn’t even try to avoid you. This time he follows your sound, follows your scent, creeps through the dark trails to find you. Because he’s the reason your back is against a tree, your terrified body surrounded by the eight members of your pack.

He’s the reason Yunho looks sick as he takes in your scent and smells remnants of another wolf.

It’s his scent on you that is about to cost you your life.

If you were a wolf, Yunho would have just cut you loose. He would have sent you on your way, let you find someone else, staged some public and humiliating breakup for you. But you’re not. You’re human; you’re less than. he doesn’t need to let you live.

You’re screaming into the dark, pleading your case, begging them to believe that you don’t even know Seungmin, that it’s all a misunderstanding. The entire pack ignores you. They’ll make an example of you after they’ve torn you to pieces.

Seungmin knows there will be parts of you around campus by morning, a warning to all other wolves to keep their hands off of Yunho’s toys.

He can’t just sit by and watch you be killed because you were too dumb to understand pack boundaries. But he also can’t face down eight werewolves by himself, not on two legs.

So he shifts.

He transforms at will, assuming the form that so many fear and he takes a second to adjust. He’s big, one of the biggest of his pack, and he’s fast. As long as all four limbs are cooperating, he has a good chance at success to get you out of the trap you’re backed into.

He’s so fast Yunho’s pack doesn’t realize what’s happening.

Seungmin bolts into the circle they’ve created around you and darts straight towards you. Before you can scream or dodge his trajectory, he’s clamped his teeth around your shoulder and snatched you away into the dark.

He knows it hurts, he can taste your blood in his mouth, but his greater concern is the shouting and howling of the pack behind you. They’ll shift and give chase in a matter of seconds, but they’ll need the same time to adjust that he had needed. It will be enough time.

At least for now.

You’re screaming beneath him, clawing at his throat and trying everything to loosen his bite, but he can’t stop. If he stops they’ll catch up, and if they catch up, they’ll kill you both.

He doesn’t drop you until he’s outside his dorm, shifting back to human form just in time to catch you before you hit the sidewalk. You’re pale and bleeding, your shoulder mangled from his own teeth. He can still taste the blood on his tongue, and he feels it as it trickles over his lips.

“Seungmin?” You gasp as soon as you find yourself in his grip. “Wait, you—”

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” He lifts you to his chest and shoulders the door open, casting a glance back to see the wolves of your old pack burst out of the tree line. “I told you this would happen.”

Seungmin hurries you up the stairs and down the hall, slamming his door shut behind you just in time to hear footsteps pounding behind you. He'll deal with it later. He'll text Jeongin, and Jeongin will deal with your pack.

He locks the door and sets you down on his bed, turning away abruptly to catch his breath. Sweat is trickling down his brow, seeping into the shirt at his back, his heart pounding a mile a minute. Behind him, he hears you tell him your name. "I don't want to know," He snaps, reaching for a first aid kit. "Don't say anything. God." He's seething, face red with rage. "You can't actually be this stupid."

"But--" You're confused. "You saved me. You got me out of there. It's over."

Stunned, Seungmin flings a hand towards the door where Yunho is doing his best to beat it down. "Does it sound fucking over? No. You're going to sit there and shut up, and once I'm done dealing with this mess you're going to leave. Transfer schools. Get lost. Just take your drama somewhere else and leave my pack out of it."

You sink into his pillows, your expression falling.

As he pushes your sleeve aside to clean the flesh his teeth have punctured, the only noise is the clamoring of your pack outside his door. Campus security will be alerted to the disturbance soon and they'll be gone without a fight, but the real trouble is coming.

"Why did you start running around on Yunho anyway?" He mutters sourly, not bothering to apologize when you hiss at the sting of his ointment.

"I'm not running around on Yunho." You refute glumly. "I broke up with him. Two months ago."

Seungmin snorts. "I don't think he agreed with you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect to be the one on a leash." It's a bitter, unkind comment, one that earns you a sharp glare. You flinch away from him, fully expecting to earn a slap or another bite for your disrespect, but the expression on Seungmin's face just melts into a smirk.

"Well, you know how dogs can be."

You weren't expecting that. "Why did you save me if you hate me so much?"

Seungmin begins to wrap your wound, not bothering himself with gentility. "Because you're dumb as fuck."

"Not because I'm human?"

It's your turn to surprise him. He fully expected another round of tears at his words, but you just take his prickly demeanor in stride. "I don't hate your humanity." He says, quietly this time. "I don't hate you. But you need to think about what you're doing. You got yourself involved with a volatile pack when you decided to date Yunho, and then you put my pack in danger when you decided to come crying to me. This world isn't all about you. You're messing with instinct and pride and you literally almost died over it."

You sink even deeper into the pillows. "I'll do better," You say. "I promise. I'll do better."

"You'll leave." He replies flatly. "You won't survive on campus. You have to leave."

A few minutes pass as the pack outside his door goes quiet, noise shifting into the sounds of campus security escorting them out of the building and urging them to deal with their issues during the daytime.

"Why did you come crying to me?" He asks finally. He gets up to collect a clean shirt for you to wear instead of the one that's now doused with blood.

"You called me stupid."

Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You came crying because I hurt your feelings?"

"No I came to you because you called me stupid when everyone else over there tells me nothing's wrong, it's all in my head, everything I do is fine. I came to you because I knew you'd tell me the truth, that you wouldn't do me any favors."

Well he certainly hadn't done you any favors by slamming the door in your face.

"What truth were you looking for?" He asks, tossing you the shirt.

You blush. "I wanted to know if they were going to kill me and never let me leave."

Seungmin snorts. "Figured that one out on your own, did you?"

You sit curled up on his bed while he rummages through his groceries and finds some rice and chicken to make. There’s a twitch in your posture, an obvious tug from where his bite has damaged the muscle of your shoulder.

He slides the pre-cooked rice into the microwave and turns it on, letting the low hum fill the room as his eyes find you once again. “I’m sorry about the bite,” he tells you, and he is. He hates the way your eyes fill with tears from the pain of it, hates the way your pathetic expression makes his gut twist.

You flinch, staring up at him. “No, no, I’m fine! You saved my life. I have no complaints.” Despite your rushed reassurance, you bring your legs closer to your chest and make yourself even smaller. “Look, I hear you.” You say. “I know I’ve made trouble for the packs. And I know I’ve put you in danger. If it’s important to you to just kill me, I understand.”

You’re absolutely stunned when he swats the back of your head. “You really are dumb as fuck, pabo.” He rolls his eyes again and drops himself onto the bed next to you, sitting against the wall as he watches the microwave hum away. “Why would I save your life just to kill you?”

You’re trembling next to him. “Why would you save it at all?” For a second your gaze drops to your shoulder, taking note of the enormous breadth of his teeth marks. “I’ve never seen a wolf so big.”

“Yunho is bigger.” Seungmin says simply. “I saved you because it’s my scent that marked you. They didn’t need to kill you over some stupid accident. Not when I wasn’t even trying to steal you.”

“Steal me?” Your eyes are wide.

“Wolves are territorial.” He reminds you again. “Yunho would rather kill you than lose you to me.”

The microwave beeps and he hefts himself up, going to swap one container for another. By the time he’s turned around again, you’ve gotten off the bed and found the strength in your legs again.

“Careful,” he warns, reaching for a plastic spoon. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Seungmin.” Your voice is tiny, pleading.

He turns, and then you’re flush against his chest, your mouth crushed against his. He stumbles back but you chase, kissing him so hard he feels his brain blank out for a second.

Until your hands climb the back of his neck and scrape through his hair and he lurches back, seizing your wrists.

You’re gasping, staring at him, eyes filled with tears. “I’ll be yours. I swear. I’ll be good and I’ll respect pack boundaries and I’ll do anything for you. I’ll make you feel so good, please, Seungmin. Let me be yours.”

He pushes you back, pushing you back on the bed. “God you really don’t know how not to be someone’s bitch, do you?” He pries your hands off his neck and backs away from you. “Stop chasing wolves. Go have a normal human relationship somewhere else.” He puts a plate of rice and chicken in your lap. “Eat.”

Your tears spill over. “I’m scared, Seungmin.”

“Scared isn’t a good enough reason to mate a wolf.” He snaps. The cruelty in his tone is undermined by the gentility with which he lifts your hand and presses chopsticks into your palm. “You must have learned that with Yunho.”

“He’ll kill me, Seungmin.”

“Eat your food.” He plates his own meal and sits at his desk, far away from you. “And don’t go kissing people for protection anymore.”

Your eyes duck to your plate and you sniffle pathetically. “I’m too scared to eat.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning.” He says disinterestedly. “Once you get out of here you’ll be fine. Just don’t go chasing wolves anymore.”

You put your food aside and get up to stand at the window, glancing out over the darkness of campus. “I like it here though.”

He drops his plate on the desk. “Oh my god, wolf girl, you literally cannot keep yourself out of trouble, can you?”

There’s a second as you turn to face him, a coy smile crossing your lips. “Do you like trouble, Seungmin?” You take one step and then you’ve got his chin in your palm, your other hand scruffing through his hair. “Do you want to get into trouble, puppy?”

He looks absolutely appalled as he snatches your hands away from him. “God, no wonder they were trying to kill you. Keep this up and I’ll just leave you on their doorstep.”

You utter a quiet laugh and the playful sneer melts off your face. As soon as it’s gone he realizes that it was a mask, that you had just been messing with him, but at the mention of your uncertain fate your fear is gripping quiet fingers at the base of your neck. “If you’ll let me sleep here tonight, I’ll sleep on the floor.” You say quietly. “Airport tomorrow morning, no more wolf chasing. Got it.”

He hates the defeated slump of your shoulders, the tears that slip down your face.

“You already have my scent.” He says flatly. “Sleep in the bed with me.”

So you do. You’re pressed into the wall on the other side, as far away from him as you can possibly manage. He watches you through the dark, watches your body shake with silent sobs.

You reek of fear and heartbreak, the scent overwhelming his senses until it’s pulsing in his skull.

He’ll never sleep at this rate, and he doesn’t want to think about the way his chest clenches every time he catches a glimpse of your big pitiful eyes.

“Pabo,” he whispers at your back, and sees you fall still. “You’re sniffling so damn loud I can’t sleep.”

Your entire body cringes. “I’m sorry. I’ll move to the floor.” You roll over to attempt to crawl to the foot of the bed to get around him but he catches your arm.

“Just come here,” he says, giving you a tug. “Neither of us are going to sleep if you’re over there being pathetically lonely. Come here, pabo.”

You seize the opportunity, desperate for physical touch, and you scoot closer until at least you can feel his shoulder against yours. “Thank you,” you whisper. “Yunho never let me touch him when he was trying to sleep. He’s not much of a cuddler.”

“And you are.” He guesses, feeling the way you’re leaning every ounce of your need for comfort into the two square inches of shoulder that is touching his.

“It’s a disease,” you laugh at yourself. “I just want to be held so fucking bad sometimes.”

Maybe it’s some science about the resonance in your voice or the sob that breaks through your tone or maybe a bout of temporary insanity, but the second your aching words touch his ears, Seungmin’s arms fall around your waist and tug you into him.

He hears you gasp, feels your heart beating through your back against his chest, feels your abdomen clench against his arm as you hold back sobs.

He gets it now. “You’re fine, pabo.” He mutters into your hair. “Just cry it out quickly so we can actually get some sleep.”

You immediately begin to sob, entire body decompressing with a corner of his pillow stuffed into your mouth. Months of a miserable, domineering relationship where your most sensitive emotional needs are neglected finally expressing itself on the night you nearly lost your life over nothing.

Seungmin huffs a tiny laugh against the back of your neck, allowing instinct to take over as he squeezes you closer. He sighs, almost amused. “Poor pabo,” he says, and chuckles again as you cry harder. “If only you had picked Wooyoung, I hear he’s way too physically affectionate.”

You launch a foot backwards and kick him, causing him to laugh harder.

“You’re not funny.” You mutter weakly.

“Shh, you’re supposed to be crying.” He tucks his arm firmly around your waist so neither of you will fall off the dorm twin mattress and promptly falls into comfortable sleep.

I'd love to hear what you think!

tag list : @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme @thecutiepieme @lemonn015 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @dreamingartist13 @ebnabi @bangtan-sonyeondamn8 @lemonn015 @thepoeticpurplepotato

[utilitycaster]

I can't find the tags where someone said this so apologies for not crediting but they were to the effect of "EXU Divergence is very good and we don't need to compare it to Campaign 3 to point that out" and the thing is, I agree. Speaking only for myself I think my intent is, admittedly, to some extent less about pointing out how good EXU Divergence is and rather using the contrast to back up the point that Bells Hells were often self-absorbed, utterly uninterested and even scornful of any meaningful collective action until maybe the epilogues, and indecisive in a way that felt as though it should have been lethal but somehow wasn't; and that a story where every choice has a terrible clarity and potentially dire consequences is instantly compelling whereas no amount of screen time can save a story where this isn't true.

But also: I think, as many have, and EXU Divergence underscores this, that the attitude the PCs had towards the gods in Campaign 3 not only fails to be backed up by C3 itself but also fails to be backed up literally anywhere else. It's not a subversion; it's an aberration. The ending of Campaign 3 and the beginning of Divergence serve as fairly obvious parallels; the gods becoming mortal and unable to speak to followers (who, in the case of clerics, do still have all their powers, as we see with Lieve'tel and Deanna) vs. the gods departing the material plane. We see how this does not end the fight between Prime and Betrayer nor does it stop their followers from trying to take over (and indeed, we know that the lower Rifenmist peninsula does still ultimately fall, in the long term, to the Strife Emperor loyalist Iron Authority). We also see very directly what faith means to people who cannot under any circumstances be defined as the privileged few; for all I have no taste for trauma Olympics, it is difficult to look at Garen, under tyranny and forced labor for a century, powerless but for a hammer and sheer force of will, express a sense of hope and faith and argue that Bells Hells are simply following the logical path of someone who has suffered. We see the gods expressly state that mortals must care for each other, something which Deanna echoes in one of the strongest scenes in the Campaign 3 finale. We see a gift given without expectation of devotion nor worship nor even understanding, just in gratitude of someone fulfilling a tenet to its utmost. Which is refreshing after a campaign where multiple characters resented gods simply for not favoring them, without ever putting in effort towards this relationship.

I've seen the phrase "in a vacuum" pop up a few times in terms of defense of Campaign 3 in terms of "in a vacuum, I am happy with it", and while I happen to think it fails on many levels even within that airless confine, the fact is, this all is unavoidably part of one canonical overarching narrative. To look at how the gods are portrayed in every single other work - yes, even Downfall, and frankly, even Campaign 3 itself - and to come to the conclusion that Bells Hells acted with the desire for a better and more just world, and not simply a world that favored them more, is, frankly, to ignore every word that did not come from the lips of three or four ignorant people over the course of a decades-long story.

EXU Divergence is very good. I think it would be very good even if it were not coming out during our current political situation, or if it had come out following a radically different and better-executed Campaign 3; that is to say, it would succeed in a vacuum. But I don't think that's a valuable way to assess fictional works, and I think it's a disservice not to consider the canonical Exandria-set Critical Role works in conversation with each other. You can praise Divergence on its own terms, and indeed, you should, but it helps to show specifically how it succeeds (in terms of consequence, in terms of characterization, in terms of worldbuilding consistency) by pointing to how something else has failed.

[fillinforlater]

Friends that can keep a secret

Male Reader x Jo Yuri (ft. two male friends)

Length: 3.500 words

Tags: foursome, gangbang, MMMF, drunk sex, seducing, a faux game of spin the bottle, making out, sharing a girlfriend, rimming, face fucking, double penetration, anal, spanking, rough sex, anal creampie, riding, cowgirl, protection, not_your_girlfriend!Yuri

TW: there are other male OCs in this and you fuck a girl in all her holes, I dunno, if you don't like that, feel free to leave

Inspiration: @breach12 for the request/prompt

(A/N: here is something I promised to write quite a while back. It's finally finished. I changed the prompt quite a bit, but I hope the person who requested it likes it (and y'all too))

“Should you knock or I knock.”

Daehwi grins and you roll your eyes. He can never make things easy.

“Dude, just fucking knock.”

You and your friends recently finished another semester in college. You really had to think, was it the fifth, the sixth, the—no, it was the sixth. It felt like forever since you enrolled in that university with it’s unimpressive name and even less impressive campus. In the end, you made it through this time without impressive grades or interesting stories, but maybe this is your ideal life.

Calm and uninteresting, at least to others.

Your friends are a bit different. On one hand there is Daehwi, the crazy one. He is like a wild animal, free from every and all constraints but a slave of his desires and instincts. He gets a lot of girls, hookups, relationships, break ups, scandals—nothing ever slows him down. No matter how stupidly crazy his ideas are, they always work out and in the end, even his grades pan out. Daehwi has either figured out how to live a perfect life or he is just insanely lucky.

But he is a good friend in time of need.

On the other hand is Junseo. He is one hell of a cutie-patootie, caring for every one of his friends, colleagues, even profs. No bad word ever comes from his lips and he is always punctual. Literally always. He trades loyalty for loyalty and is the perfect example for genuinity and consistency. It is only fair that he got the most beautiful girl as his girlfriend.

Junseo is a great friend, but sometimes Yuri takes up all his time.

Yuri is the rock star on campus. She can make the entire university fall on their knees by grabbing a mic and singing her heart out. She is talented, smart, gorgeous—the crush of many, until they find another girl to smash. Yuri was never ready for one night stands, and so it was only fitting that Junseo and her fell in love gradually. No hookups, just pure, romantic love.

Love without you. You watched from afar as your best friend fell in love with your crush. That crush on Yuri that everyone has at least once in their campus life, it still lingers in your heart. You have to suppress it almost daily, but it is a tiny stain on your otherwise good life. Suppress it for Junseo, especially today when you get to celebrate another successful semester at his place. 

"Oh hey guys, come in!" Junseo opens the door with a wide grin and a surprising pink hue on his cheeks.

"Yo!” Daehwi shouts until his chest vibrates. “We bought beer, let's celebrate—damn, did you start drinking without us?" Daehwi puts down the two six packs and starts to aggressively pinch Junseo’s cheek. You start to laugh as the two playfully fight like two lion cubs.

“I brought some snacks,” you shout and try to get their attention. Fun is good and all, but you’re still standing outside and the cold air is brushing past your sensitive calves. "I got them for you, but if you don’t move, I’ll eat them all alone."

The three of you finally make your way into the flat and onto the couches. You feel the good vibes radiating throughout the room and it only gets progressively better. The first step to make such a celebration unforgettable is good beer and surprisingly, the cans Daehwi bought (at least you hope that he bought them) are filled with it. You down two of them easily, Daehwi is already on his third while Junseo reaches for a Soju bottle to create an intoxicating mixture. 

“Damn, I didn’t know you got Soju,” Daehwi groans in ecstasy as he takes a swing straight from the green bottle. “Your grades must have been terrible.”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Junseo responds with a pout. “It's because this might be the last time we have a celebration like this.”

“Huh, how so?” you protest and get a handful of crackers into your mouth, not willing to accept that such a well-kept tradition would end tonight, without warning.

“It’s because, next semester, I’m done, so the party is gonna be bigger. And afterwards, with work and all, I don’t know if it will work out like this again.”

“Shit, life is really catching up to us.” Daehwi clicks his tongue and you can already see that his drunk, a bit more melancholic but still wild and direct self appears. After all, he can’t keep himself from downing liquor. 

“If only I knew,” you sigh, angry that you forgot that Junseo was already here when you started to study. He was always ahead and now he will be the first to leave behind college life and become a truly normal person. “I would have brought stuff to make this more memorable.”

Junseo grabs the hem of your shirt and there is this drunk grin on his face as he babbles: “Don’t worry, I have things planned.

“Yuri, dear, you can come in now~”

Honest to God, you forgot about her for a split second—you will never for the rest of your life. Yuri walks in, the walk of a supermodel. Her high heels clack on the wooden floor, her hips sway in that stupidly short miniskirt, her eyes sparkle when she winks at you. You’re staring everywhere at once, to the point your throat goes dry again and you quickly need another drink. Luckily, Yuri brought more Soju and hands you a bottle.

“Congrats on beating another semester,” she says with a saccharine smile that stuns you, glues you to the couch, all to the amusement of Junseo beside you. “You gonna take it or not?”

“Su-sure, thank you.” Grab the bottle like an idiot and drink from it like one. Daehwi isn’t any better, dry lips stuck to his can while his eyes are glued to Yuri’s back. She makes sure to stick out her ass for him to see the nice curve. The green plaid skirt is barely long enough to hide her cheeks as she kneels next to him, hands on the table, searching for crackers or chips.

“Yuri, you are gorgeous,” Junseo compliments his girlfriend with a wicked grin and Yuri responds with an expression so sly and sexy, you almost drop your bottle and spit out its contents. Those two must have been drinking before Daehwi and you arrived, otherwise they wouldn’t be so bold.

“Damn, what the hell is going on with you two?” Daehwi bluntly asks them, but all he gets are glances from the couple and a confused shrug by you. “I bet you two are drunk already. Better stop now before any accidents happen.”

“There are no accidents tonight,” Junseo says firmly and makes room in the middle of the table for an empty Soju bottle. “No accidents, no boundaries, no questions asked. Do you two understand?”

“Well, that is a question,” you try to respond with wit, but it’s quickly forgotten when Yuri spins the empty bottle.

“Whoever this bottle lands on gets to have a free wish—kinda like truth and dare, except everyone else has to accept the dare and what you want to do to them.” Yuri’s words have your mind rotating faster than the bottle; is she for real? No limits, no boundaries? No one will ask questions? Can you just—go for it? Ask her to love you for this one night—no Junseo, just you?

Your wish fades to black when the bottle stops and points straight at Junseo, who does not hesitate and grabs his girlfriend at the wrist. Blink once, blink twice and she already sits on his lap, right next to you, and he is ready to stick his tongue into her eager mouth.

“My wish is that everyone fucking loosens up and just watches.”

The most tense thriller could not be more engaging for you. To see Junseo fondle Yuri, her tight little body, her covered boobs, her flawless back, down to the edge of her skirt has you sweaty all over. All over, again, he doesn’t stop and goes for that long, blonde hair and combs it back. Yuri moans and her nails dig into the back of the couch. Then they go back to making out, provocatively loud and Yuri’s top almost slips over her boobs.

You’re not the only one starring. Daehwi gets into position behind them, and he shamelessly looks under Yuri’s skirt—what he finds must be utterly mind melting, because he quickly grabs the bottle and points it at himself. He clears his throat to get everyone’s attention and for a second, the silence is heavier than a black hole.

“I-it’s my turn.” Daehwi gulps, the couple pants. “Can I pull down your skirt, Yuri?”

“Sure, just let me get up.”

With a final kiss on the cheek, Yuri leaves her boyfriend’s lap and stands in front of the kneeling Daehwi. She reaches for his hands and places them on her hips. This was the final straw, the last chain that held back the savage animal. Daehwi roughly yanks down Yuri’s skirt; with every gasp, more of her lower body is revealed until—nothing but a skimpy thong. You get to see it from behind only for a second, because Daehwi immediately spins Yuri around to knead and lick her cute butt cheeks. 

You’ve only heard stories of Daehwi’s sexcapades, the endless rounds of loud smashing, of groaning, of cumming—you never knew he could become so feral at the touch of two small round buttcheeks. It seems to work however, Yuri is definitely feeling herself, hands in her hair, head thrown back as she moans profanities towards the ceiling.

Suddenly, the head of a bottle crosses your vision. Juseon has the green thing pointed at you, on eye level and you don’t let him even start his sentence before uttering your own wish. It’s a bit desperate, but totally accurate to your situation and pent up feelings.

“Yuri, I—I want to make out with you, o-on my lap!”

“Oh yes, for sure~”

Followed by the still manically kneading Daehwi, Yuri climbs on top of you and goes straight for your mouth. Her tongue, still glazed in liquor and tiny chips particles quickly turns into the most delicious treat you have ever had. Yuri engages the kiss, starts off what could have been an equal dance but she quickly succumbs to your sudden dominance. 

Call it a return to your monkey brain, anything but civilized. You fuck her mouth with your tongue, play with her hair lovingly while tormenting her slender frame with rubs and squeezes. Yuri’s giggles urge you on more, you become bolder, reach into the top of her bra—there is no bra, just bare tits to fondle and knead the way only Daehwi would, though he has transitioned to eating Yuri’s ass, thong pushed to the side. 

You’ve lost sight of Juseon, but who the fuck cares when you can stick your hands down to where the sun doesn’t shine and find Yuri’s pussy. She is laughably wet, her juices dripping on your finger while your teeth move to bite her collarbone. She moans and hugs your body, pressing herself further down your length which has been an issue in the tight confines of your jeans for way too long—

“Yuri,” Juseon suddenly shouts. “I think you’re the last one to make a wish.”

You pull out your fingers from those drenched folds and even Daehwi backs off from the feast that is Yuri’s ass. Everyone listens closely when Yuri finally gets her wish out.

“I want you three boys to finally get your cocks out and fuck them into my tight holes until I can’t walk anymore. Don’t think, just fuck me.

“I’m your semester trophy tonight.”

Juseon suddenly stands next to you, feet in the cushions of his couch and his pants meet them quickly. He whips out his cock and as if her lips were magnetically drawn to it, Yuri starts to kiss and lick over it. From tip to base, she does not leave out one spot. Equally sudden is Daehwi, who’s pants you can’t even see anymore, but his cock is clearly pressed against Yuri’s cheeks and then on the ring in between them.

To your surprise—not that you ever actively thought about it—their cocks are just average in size, maybe even below that. Yours might be bigger, but they get girls and relationships all the time—your thoughts shouldn’t become so weird, especially because you have already pulled out your own dick and begun to stroke it to the hardest it has ever been.

Yuri, while her face is getting fucked slowly, her boyfriend’s cock entering and leaving her lips, gently places an unwrapped condom into your sweaty hands. Good thing that they are prepared, because you of course did not bring something like this to what could’ve been a harmless party.

Harmless college parties? Yeah, no, who are you kidding. Just roll the plastic contraceptive over your hard shaft and then try to find Yuri’s pussy. Those hot folds, they are right there—further down. You rub along her midriff, navel, even her crotch but are unable to find it.

Yuri pops Juseon’s cock from her lips and smiles at you while her hand continues to lazily jerk the throbbing, wet thing. She reaches in between your legs and finds your thing poking her belly. 

“Should I help you?” she asks and you avoid her eyes in embarrassment—only for a second thought. Something draws you to their sparkle, lewd and thrilled, while she tries to adjust on your lap until— 

“Ah, fuck, Daehwi, wait!”

“Wha-what is it?” he asks with a somewhat annoyed growl, hands wrapped around Yuri’s waist, cockhead perfectly aligned with her asshole.

“Give me a second. I want all of you to thrust in me simultaneously. I never felt something like that.

“It’ll be great.”

You gulp when Yuri gets you to the entrance of her light pink cavern. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for for a long time—not really waiting, just dreaming of. Luckily, you don’t need to dream anymore and just focus on not exploding the moment you—

“Now, fuck, now.”

The signal sends your hips upwards in a thrust. It’s not a full thrust, only half of your cock fills Yuri’s insides. You couldn’t commit to all of it; you need to flex your thighs to keep yourself from cumming too quickly. Daehwi and Junseo do not seem to care about that: both went all in from the get go, filling Yuri’s mouth and ass to the brim with their dicks and their thrusts don’t stop. 

Daehwi’s rough, feral pumping gapes Yuri’s ass and you feel every second of it. He is on the other side, careless, just like in the stories from the countless one-night stands that loved his enthusiasm. This is not enthusiasm, more unbridled sexual desire. He chases his own orgasm every time her ass meets his crotch.

For Junseo it’s similar. He seems to really enjoy Yuri’s drool running down her chin, sometimes even stopping the thrusts just to spread it all over her face with either his tip or a finger. You totally understand why he indulges in the way Yuri looks, all messy and silly, but you’d love to hear her moan louder—you want to see the strongest kind of bliss on her features.

Instead of your own pleasure, you try to find Yuri’s spots and poke your cock against them purposefully. You’re a lot slower than the other two, but your stamina does not decrease at all. Unlike Daehwi, you don’t need any brakes to catch your breath. You just continue to fuck Yuri in this mesmerizing rhythm that has her humming on her boyfriend’s shaft.

“Is this good, do you feel good?” you ask her in between deep breaths, arms around her torso, while she finds stability on your shoulder again.

“Yesh, yes,” she mumbles as Junseo flops out of her mouth. You see him shaking, losing his mind when she starts to twist his tip with two fingers. “You can go faster, harder—don’t think of me. I’m just the reward.”

“Too bad.” Whisper in her ear. “All I can think about is my reward.”

Yuri’s expression shifts, like she is trying to challenge you, like she doesn’t believe that you really care about her, like she—and then she can only think of Daehwi again, who goes on another rampage in her back entrance, while covering her ass with hard spanks.

A tender pain on your lower lip when she bites it. You halt your thrusts, but Daehwi makes it feel like Yuri bounces and rubs on your entire cock. You hear both the guys scream profanities while your own profanities are stuck, unable to come out because of Yuri’s bite.

“Yuri, babe, I’m—” Junseo can barely stand. “I’m so close.”

“In my mouth?” she asks, cutely-lewdly.

“N-no, I want to… finish on your ass.”

“Great idea.” Yuri jerks his cock harder and starts to stick out her ass which seems to trigger another orgasm. Instead of politely asking, Daehwi just growls like a wolf to the moon and Yuri feels his thick cum flood her rectum. “Yes, fuck! Fill that ass, creampie me!”

Now that wasn’t cute at all. Just lewd. Lewd like her fucking face when Daehwi’s cock loudly pops out and Junseo sprays his cum all over those red buttocks. She looks thoroughly satisfied with all the white on her skin, in her hole—maybe she isn’t thinking yet of the mess on her couch, the carpet or on her clothes. 

“Fuck, guys, that was—

“Why haven’t you finished yet?”

Yuri looks at you, as if she expects you to just burst from the look in her eyes. No, she underestimates you. Your stamina is still going strong and your enjoyment of her cunt hasn’t diminished by a single percent.

“I-I can still keep going!”

“Really? Let’s see about that.”

As if you had fucked a million times already, Yuri’s riding and your upwards fucking synchronizes instantaneously. When she crashes down, all of your cock fills her hole and when she rises, you’re right at her entrance, ready to repeat what can only be described as heaven—an entry to happiness. 

But happiness isn’t a dominant emotion right now, hell, you don’t even want it. You just want Yuri and her snug pussy always around you, hot and milking you with that flawless texture. The pink thing should accept you the entire night and with how eagerly she slams herself down on your manhood, she wants it too. 

Maybe Yuri feels happiness, maybe that is your wishful thinking blurring with her mindless expression, mindless moans, mindless tongue that suddenly searches for yours and you engage in a tornado of kisses that leads to Yuri resigning. Her body is all yours now, yours alone, and she is begging to cum. Trophy this, award that, in the end she has her needs and you will fulfill them.

Hold onto her waist and like in the final battle of a video game, use all your knowledge and skill to stimulate the inside of her pussy. Nothing can stop you, not the cum from her gaping hole that drips on your balls, not her weight laying on top of you, not the shocked gaze of Junseo—he must have never seen his girlfriend get fucked so well.

“Fuck, I’m-I’m,

“I feel so good, don’t stop.”

Yuri’s whine feels like a victory. You know she will climax before you do. This is all you’ve ever wanted. After this, you can let your feelings for her die in peace. But for these last few thrusts, she is all yours. Her entire body and mind is occupied by you, and so you claim her with a gentle kiss and a not-so-gentle flick on her clit.

“Who makes you cum?”

“You! You, you make me—ah!”

That scream is so long, so good; she is so tight, so perfect. Yuri trembles, electric shocks of pleasure surge all across her body. Her cunt is so tight and hot, you don’t feel the condom anymore and release your seed into it with lazy pumps. Yuri mewls when she feels the hot sticky mess which sadly misses her hot, messy holes and instead sticks to your dick.

“Okay, fuck,” Junseo sighs and sinks onto the carpet. “That was hot, that was crazy.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Yuri weakly says, a bright but tired smile on her lips as she looks back to her boyfriend. She turns back to you, face in adorable scrunches “Lemme, uhm… clean up.”

“Oh, yeah.” You quickly try to get your composure, because you’re still balls deep inside her. “Fuck, sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize.

Junseo can never hear that. He never will. And Daehwi is long asleep. Those following words are just for you.

“That was the best thing ever.”

[confession-of-the-heart]

So amid all of the pairing discourse being sent to this blog, one little thing stuck out to me. Someone commented claiming that AkuRoku is one of the most popular pairings on AO3 with some of the largest numbers of fics, but being the statistics nerd I am, and knowing the general trajectory of this fanbase, I decided to run some numbers and put that claim to the test.

(Actually, looking into that got me really curious about the general popularity over time of all the relatively notable pairings in KH, so I think I might eventually make a formal post compiling all my findings once I have a little more time. This is definitely informal, but it’s just an initial impression of my research thus far. Obviously, take this with a grain of salt: fanfic is only one piece of the general popularity puzzle, but it does seem to be generally understood as a decent benchmark for analysis of broader trends within fandoms.)

As a note, I measured fic numbers by date of update from April to April, year to year on AO3, so factors like game release date timing should be taken into account.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, SoRiku is the undisputed king of KH shipping. It’s been going incredibly strong since 02 but even then experienced a massive jump at KH3’s release, number of fics updated in the year multiplying nearly 6x in 2019 from where it had been in 2017. It’s slowly settled down since, but is still holding at well over 300 fics per year, even during this content drought. It’s vastly above everything else in popularity and always has been.

Most pairings have followed a similar pattern since KH3’s release: The entire fandom experienced a general jump in activity and most pairings got a boost from 2018-2020, although some more dramatically than others: Akusai fics (inclusive of fics tagged just leaisa, just akusai, or both, not counting the same fics twice) experienced a more dramatic leap than any other pairing in 2019, going from just 40 in 2017, to 183 the following year, to 350 in 2019–an 8x jump in interest. (Wow!)

Like Soriku, most other pairings have generally gone fallow since 2020, as that was the last time we all got any sort of content. (Missing Link when Nomura.)

As far as the stats for Akuroku go… Honestly a bit gobsmacked by the trends in the data. I decided to include both number of fics updated per year on both AO3 and fanfiction.net, as the fandom’s early 2000s heyday can’t really be accounted for on AO3. fanfiction.net’s numbers are a little inflated because I couldn’t honestly be bothered to separate out the infinitesimally small number of non-ship fics in the 2000s and early 2010s from the overwhelmingly large proportion of ship fics there, but if you compare how many fics that pairing used to get in its heyday from 2006-2011, it used to average out at roughly 1000 fics a year.

From 2012 on, the drop in popularity is precipitous—on both fanfiction.net and AO3. it had less than half the fics in 2012 on fanfiction.net than it did in 2010, and it’s continued to exponentially decline there since. For example, there were no AkuRoku ships updated on fanfiction.net last year, and there were only 2 updated the year before. (Noting that fandoms at large did begin to increasingly migrate away from fanfiction.net after 2012, which also explains similar but less extreme declines in otherwise healthy ships like SoRiku on that website).

It fares a little better on AO3, although it’s been eclipsed in popularity by ships that were once drastically less popular than it involving the same characters at several points—Leaisa/Akusai for example consistently had hundreds more fics than it from around 2018-2020, an impressive feat considering that ship basically didn’t exist prior to 2013~2014, although it’s gone quieter since.

AkuRoku has remained pretty much consistent at roughly 150~200 fics per year on AO3 since 2012 (a couple years have had roughly a 10~20 variance above or below that, no significant jumps either way, though it did roughly halve from a high year in 2020 to a low year in 2021) which leads me to believe that it’s… probably more off in its own world separate from what the rest of the fandom is doing than other ship communities? It doesn’t follow the same trends as ships that are more closely following the story developments in canon do.

It’s kind of surprising to see it be that much of a general drop, though. I knew it was less popular than it once was, but I didn’t realize just how much less popular it really is. 150~200 fics updated a year sounds like a lot, but if you compare it to how absurdly ubiquitous it used to be, it’s a shadow of its former self. Unless KH4 has a bunch of interactions with them and them alone, going by the trends and general attitude of the fandom, I think it’ll probably just continue to slowly lose momentum. It still has a lot of diehards, but it would appear that the majority compared to that of 15-20 years ago have jumped ship, so to speak. I have a feeling that if Roxas ever gains any significant peer relationships with different male characters in the future, it’ll likely be another nail in the coffin for it as enthusiasm for a gay Roxas ship bleeds elsewhere.

So, uh, basically… everyone who’s freaking out about it, chill? It’s probably just going to continue slowly petering out on its own eventually as the next games move away from the characterization that initially made it popular, whether anyone wants it to or not. That’s what fic trends would appear to indicate, at any rate.

Side note: out of all the pairings I’ve analyzed popularity over time for thus far, I’m surprisingly impressed by Naminé/Xion. I thought it was way more of a rarepair than it actually is. It’s not going anywhere crazy like Soriku, but it’s actually rather consistent with other moderately popular kid pairs like Roxas/Xion on AO3, and saw a jump in numbers above Roxas/Naminé of all things from 2019-2020, which I would never have anticipated. Let’s go lesbians! I guess KH3 really did change things up.

~~~

[chuubian]

Kinktober week four:

Taste

Tags Yae miko x fem reader, mdni, witch au, aphrodisiacs, breaking and entering, face sitting, Yae is just a tiny bit mean

Summary While looking for shelter during a blizzard, you find a small cottage- missing its owner. When you finally meet the witch who occupies the house, you inexplicably feel drawn to her.

A/N Can you guys tell i hate landlords

From the frosty scenery surrounding you, only a measly little cottage could be seen in the distance. The fact that it's holding up at all during a blizzard as powerful as this one, is a miracle in itself. A sense of relief washes over you. Finally, some refuge. Getting kicked out in the middle of winter was brutal. No amount of begging convinced your landlord to show any kind of mercy. Apparently, they already had a new tenant waiting. One who had actually paid the ridiculous prices set, and earned the property owners consideration. It had been hours out in the storm.  Snow caked the bottom of your boots- melting it just enough so the freezing water soaks through the fabric, and numbing your toes. There were many times during your journey where you contemplated laying down and letting the snowdrift smother you.

Hugging the coat tighter around yourself, the muscles of your legs struggled to traverse through the thick blanket of ice layering the ground. As you got closer, lungs burning, you took note of the symbols carved into the snow surrounding the cottage. Did an artist live here? Clearly it was some kind of creative soul- golden ornaments and bells hung from the walls, jingling softly as they’re jostled by the air.

The door is unlocked. You easily push it open, engulfed in a rush of hot air that thaws your frozen muscles. It's surprisingly quiet, save for the crackling fire. No one seems to be home, but why would they leave the fireplace on? That's so dangerous. Either way, you walk in deeper, cautious of any inhabitants that may come at you with a sword. The cottage is relatively small, consisting of only one bedroom, a small kitchen, and a bathroom that didn't even have a sink. The living room was cramped with some furniture and a coffee table. Everywhere you looked, every table had at least one cauldron. Did the owner really need to cook in every room?

Grabbing a small blanket from a nearby closet, you curl up in front of the chimney. The heat radiating from the fire soothes your tired body, lulling you into a tranquil slumber. Waves of comfort ebb and flow through your figure- allowing your mind to go blank.

Your dreams are filled with scenes of a pink haired lady taunting you, finding every one of your weaknesses and using them against you. She smiles cruelly while you writhe in pain- throat searing as you scream, clawing at your throbbing stomach. Your spine feels like it's being ripped out of your body and she doesn't even take a second look. Diabolical laughter echoed through your head. The wicked expression on her face is singed into your brain, permanently lingering in your subconscious.

Panting, chest aching, you're woken from your sleep forcibly. Your eyes dart around frantically. The fireplace has been turned off but somehow you don't feel cold- if anything, there's a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin. You rip the blanket off, heart racing, and stand up. There, hiding in the darkness, is the silhouette of a person. Staring at you. A shiver runs down your spine. Your gut is begging you to run, but your feet remain planted firmly in the ground.

“W-who are you?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

The figure steps forward and pink hair pops into view- just like that lady. No way. How? She was supposed to stay in your nightmares, not become real. Once again, your body is reminded of the torture she put you through. Your stomach feels like it's eating its own lining, like the acid is burning through the meat of your digestive system. All the saliva in your mouth dries up, leaving your throat parched. The look on your features must have been visibly panicked because the pink haired woman quickly steps forward- laying a delicate hand over your shoulder as her fluffy tail wraps around your waist. Although you're terrified, her scent fully engulfs you- it smells like cherry blossoms. It’s almost hypnotizing.

“Awww don't be scared…i wont hurt you, I'm assuming you got the nightmares huh?”

“How..?”

Breathless, your voice comes out in muted whispers.

“You didn't notice… You can break into my house but not use your brain to put the context clues together?”

Looking around in a frenzied state, your eyes gloss over all the details. There's nothing. What does she mean?

“You still don't get it…”

Her saccharine voice looms over you, tricking you into a false sense of security.

“Let me spell it out for you.”

Slender hands take hold of your chin, forcing you to look over at the coffee table.

“Do you see that?”

“T-the pot?”

She hums softly, breath brushing over the back of your neck.

“Yes, the cauldron.”

Sharp nails bite into the flesh of your cheek- mildly stinging. This time, she drags your eyeline up to the ceiling.

“Herbs?”

“Yes, darling. I’m drying them.”

Is there actually something you're supposed to be noticing?

“You like to cook?”

Your muscles are stiff, unwilling to unwind. A certain fear gnawed at the back of your mind- would she kill you if you got it wrong? How is this even possible? Maybe you're just in another wicked dream. Your landlord could have put a curse on you for not paying the rent on time. If there was any way to develop magical abilities overnight, he certainly would have figured it out. That's just how determined he is to get more money.

“No.”

Pushing  her chest against your back, she slowly walks you towards the door. Her legs and yours knock together on the way- almost making you face plant onto the shiny wooden floors beneath you. The whole house shakes as the entrance is yanked open. Bitter cold air rushes towards you, attaching itself to any semblance of warmth- chilling you to the bone. At least the storm stopped, only small snowflakes flutter down gently.

“What do you see here?”

Only ice is visible. Even the sun has hidden itself away behind gray clouds.

“Snow.”

Her hand smoothly flattens over your lower stomach as her tail wraps itself around your leg. It helps keep you toasty.

“That's not all, you don't notice anything off?”

“No… it just looks like snow.”

Sighing, she pulls you back inside and slams the door shut.

“You're a little dim aren't you?”

“I don't understand….”

The pink haired woman tuts condescendingly, tapping your cheek with her polished nail.

“I'm a witch, darling.”

Your brain  swirls, eyes widening. A witch..?! You broke into a witch's house?? Blood freezing, icicles stream through your veins forcibly- the tips of your fingers throb and prickle painfully. It all made sense now. The weird drawings in the snow, the ornaments outside, cauldrons and herbs strewn throughout the house. It was all for her spells. Giggling, her silky tail tickles the sides of your waist.

“Oh come on… How could you not have known?”

Heated fingers creep up your spine to the base of your neck, tapping lightly. Tingles emerge from the spots she touches, sending chills through your body. She's so.. touchy. And you don't even mind, despite the fact that she was the creation of your nightmares.

“But, when I was asleep-”

“I know, I know.”

She interrupts. A delicate finger taps your lips, shushing you.

“It's just a simple spell to punish intruders… but you don't seem like you mean harm.”

Releasing her pleasant, lukewarm hold on you, she rests her hand on her hips- tail thumping against the floor impatiently.

“Sit down. If you don't want me to kick you out with the snow, you'll have to come up with a reason for breaking into my house.”

Without giving you time to respond she heads off in the direction of the kitchen. The jewelry and ornaments hanging off her body and clothing clink loudly as she walks. For a few minutes, you’re granted a break from the constant anxiety brewing and expanding over you. Thankfully, she didn't seem angry. If you just explained, you're sure she'd understand. Holding a teacup and pot set, the woman walks back into the living room- bringing with her an air of coziness. She made tea. In adorable pink cups. It's unnecessarily sweet. You trespassed and she's still treating you like a welcomed guest.

Heart pounding in your chest, your wobbly hand reaches for a cup- desperate for the warmth she once enveloped you in.

“So why are you here?”

She watches as you take a sip, not moving to grab her own teacup.

Steaming hot liquid oozes down your esophagus and settles in your belly- acting like a furnace to spread its blazing flare through your extremities. Blood rushes up to your cheeks, casting a healthy glow over your face. You set the cup back down and take a deep breath. She'll understand… right?

“Well, my landlord kicked me out of my place. I didn't have anywhere to stay so I started walking around, and then I saw the cottage… I really am sorry, but I thought I was going to die.”

Her eyes narrow, tail flicking delicately. It’s like she can peer right into your core, reading you with ease and determining if you're lying with just one glance. Laying one hand on the plush couch, she leans into it- getting comfortable. She seems satisfied with your answer as she hums quietly.

“Okay, I believe you. You can stay here for the time being.”

“T-that's it? It's that easy?”

She nods.

“It's that easy.”

Heat surges under your skin. It feels like you're floating, like your body is lighter- not weighed down by all the stressful problems that had plagued you for the past month. Maybe you didn't have a lot of money, but the pink haired woman let you stay. And although she's a witch, she promised she wasn't going to hurt you.

“Thank you so much!”

She's so kind. You have to find a way to  pay her back somehow.

“I-I'll clean up around the house and stuff! I won't be a bother, I promise.”

She chuckles, and suddenly it seems like the sun is right in front of you. Her smile is so bright, vivid.

“That would be appreciated. If you want, you can also try out my potions, I have been needing a cute little test subject.”

“Uhm… Would it be dangerous…?”

Crossing her pale legs, she taps her chin for a few seconds- thinking.

“You don't need to worry about it, darling. You'll be fine.”

That's all the confirmation you need.

“Okay then! I'll do it.”

She smirks mischievously, it almost makes you suspicious. Almost.

“Great, we'll start tomorrow.”

Standing up, she turns to walk away. Before she can go off to do whatever it is she does all day, you stop her.

“Wait!”

Her head whips back around, velvety tail swaying smoothly. It's as if it's trying to get you to touch it- hypnotizing you.

“You never told me your name.”

“It's Yae. Yae Miko. Don't forget it, darling.”

Her slim fingers drum against your cheek, almost like she's scolding you. Before you know it, she's gone again, hiding herself away in some corner of the house that you can't access.

The rest of the day is spent alone. Cleaning, although tedious when you lived alone, is now a welcome activity. At least you had a place to clean. You assumed Yae didn't mind you taking her food, but she didn't come out to scold you for using one of her cauldrons and cooking. It was kind of worrying, actually. Did she not need to eat? You even made a large enough amount for her to have some too.

Thoughtless, menial labor was tranquilizing. As the muddy, contaminated water was poured away, so was your unease. Once you feel satisfied with the work you've done, you grab your blanket again, setting up on the couch in front of the fireplace. This would be much more comfortable than the hard wooden floor you'd slept on the night before. Your body sinks into the cushiony sofa, engulfing you in a cocoon of warmth and satisfaction. The crackling of the flames acts as white noise- luring you into a restful sleep.

Fortunately, no more nightmares occur. As morning time approaches, you're woken by a bright golden light in your face. Eyes blinking open, you're temporarily blinded by the dazzling sun rays. When you sit up and face the other direction, you can barely see Yae in the corner through the passing blind spot in your vision. Why does she stare so much? It's seriously unsettling. She doesn't wait for you to fully wake up before she does.

“Get up, darling. I need your help.”

You groan.

“Already? I just woke up.”

“Oh, do you have something else to do?”

Grumbling, you rip the snuggly sheets off your body.

“Fine.”

Yae grins smugly, leading you through maze-like hallways. She must have done something to the house because you don't remember seeing these places the night you broke in. The wooden boards are cold against your feet, freezing the balls of your feet- threatening to cramp them all the way from your toes, up to your ankles. She finally stops in front of a small pink door, ears twitching before she walks in, not saying a word.

As you pass through the entrance, the breath is stolen from your lungs…. Wow. It's huge on the inside. Like a giant public library, but instead of books, the shelves are filled with various dried herbs and multi-colored potions. Your nose is immediately attacked with the scent of iris and cherry blossoms. Large windows let the sun to light up the room beautifully. Can Yae’s magic really be so strong that the glass didn't break during that horrible blizzard?

“Come on, don't be shy.”

Fuzzy fur drapes itself around your hips- pushing you towards the small table in the middle, covered in various glass bottles, herbs, and spilled liquids. You don't dare to touch them. Yae’s delicate hands pluck out a dainty thin vial filled with a bright pink elixir. The cork at the top, kept everything from spilling out as she handed it to you.

“Try this.”

You pop open the bottle, sniffing it. It's sickeningly sweet. Your throat and tongue are violently assaulted by the steam wafting up- your gums ache to bite down on something, mouth watering.

“What is this? Pure sugar?”

Tapping the bottom of the vial, she tries to force it up to your lips.

“Nope, it's a potion to help with your… loneliness.”

“I never said I was lonely.”

Holding a finger up to her lips, she giggles playfully.

“I can read between the lines. Now go on, this is your one job, it's very safe I promise.”

Slightly embarrassed, you bring the cool glass vial up to your lips and tip it back. As soon as the potion touches your lips and tongue you're hit with the intense honeyed spiciness. Your eyes water as the viscous liquid slides down your throat- the chance to lick the remainder off your lips never comes as it absorbs itself into your skin. A tickle in your throat forces you to double over coughing. It's like your stomach is hopelessly attempting to push the elixir back up out of your esophagus.

Peering out the window, you run your tongue over your teeth- becoming conscious of the gritty sensation left behind in your mouth.

“How do you feel?”

Your attention is drawn back to Yae, core tightening when you study the exquisite features on her face and the elegant outline of her figure. Her eyes meet yours and your entire world collapses. Sediment cascades down on you- crushing and burying you under heavy rock. Answering her question is the last thing on your mind. Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth, and your brain is spinning.

Static buzzes through the roots of your hair, down to the bottom of your feet when Yae snakes a slender arm around your waist, pushing her body up against yours. She's so warm.. it makes you want to melt under her, let her manipulate and contort you any way she pleases like melted chocolate. Moisture covers your skin, leaving the surface of it sticky.

“Is it hot? hm?”

Her voice is deeper than before, alluring. She was tempting you. Like a black widow- seducing you, only to destroy you after she's gotten all she needs from you. Unconsciously, you nod.

“I bet… lay down.”

All it takes from her is a little push towards the long couch near the window, before your body obeys by itself. Your body descends into the plush cushions and Yaes legs tangle with yours. In this position, where she straddles your thigh with her thin arms propped next to your face, you’re enveloped by her scent. It's intoxicating. You'll never be able to smell cherry blossoms without thinking of her ever again.

“W-what was that potion?”

Sharp nails gently scratch down your cheek, creating sensitive tingles over it.

“Nothing much, just a simple aphrodisiac.”

Fire ignites your nerves alight, it's like you're being burned alive. The wind gets knocked out of your lungs as she drags her smooth hand down your neck and rests it over your sternum.

“You're e-evil,”

She tsks disapprovingly, pinching the small exposed flesh of your chest. Small, needy  whines free themselves from your lungs as you arch into her touch. How could this have happened? You're so stupid to trust a stranger and yet… you want her. More than you need air to breathe.

“Don't talk to me like that. Unless you want me to leave you here by yourself.”

Keening, your hands travel up to the edges of her uniform, curling around the fabric hysterically.

“Noo.. stay.”

“That's more like it.”

She purrs into your ear, already tugging the hem of your shirt up- working quickly to undress you. Fervid palms smooth over your exposed stomach. Her pupils are dilated and she keeps dragging her tongue over her teeth and lips. Like she wants to ingest you. The tail behind her is flicking impatiently, whipping your legs painfully.

Plump lips crash against your own, dragging her tongue against your bottom lip- she doesn't wait for permission before forcing herself inside. Deepening the kiss, her body leans down more, pressing her plush tits against yours. She's greedy. Taking all she can from you- the air from your lungs, the ability to think clearly. Her teeth clash against yours, like she's trying to eat you.

Pointed, needle-like nails dig into the flesh of your cheeks as Yae pulls away harshly. Your lips make a wet smacking sound, clinging to each other.

“Can I sit on your face?”

You nod dumbly, lips swollen and parted. It was nice that she bothered to ask, but at this point she could ask to kill your entire family and your brain would be stupid  enough to go ahead and say yes. Yae quickly pulls the stupid uniform over her head. Your eyes rove over her graceful figure, taking in the softness of her hips, the alluring curve of her waist. Mouth watering, your eyesight moves down to where she’s still covered by her panties. Heat washes over you, twisting uncomfortably. You need her to hurry. She was being so slow on purpose.

“Please… Yae…”

Chucking, she gently slaps your hip. Your body craves more.

“I know, I know.”

Thumbs hook under the waistband of her underwear, pulling down until they’re fully off- thrown somewhere in the distance but you dont care at this point. All your mind can think about is how she would taste, how she would feel. The pink haired witch straddles your face and you're met with the sight of her glistening pussy. Tears spring into your eyes as she puts her full weight on you. Finally. This is all you wanted.

The pressure against you is a welcome kind. Not like the pressures of life from before- paying you rent on time, finding food. This is better. How could you ever go back after this?

A low buzz of excitement covers you. Tongue laving over her clit, taking in her syrupy taste- her hips twitch against your face.

“F-fuck, yeah… just like that.”

Grinding down on your tongue, Yae has absolutely no shame. Her beautiful hands thread themselves through the strands of your hair, tugging and directing you how she likes.

Your fingers dig into the fat of her hips, trying to keep her still but your efforts are proving useless. She didn't care that your face was shining with her slick- in fact, she encourages it.

Wrapping your lips around her clit, you suck harshly- tongue flicking over it eagerly. Her hands tighten in your strands as a small gasp bubbles up her throat. It encourages you more, It felt like you were drunk. Your head was spinning like crazy, eyes developing a glassy sheen. The need to please is overwhelming. The need for all of her. Her taste, her touch, her scent.

You desperately pull her down more. Lapping in a fast rhythm, you push your tongue against her entrance, eating her out like it's your last meal. Yae’s thighs tremble with the effort of holding herself up. Gushy walls squishing around you. The pitch in her voice gets higher as she quivers over you. You slurp at her mercilessly, determined to draw out more sweet noises from her lips.

When she finally comes apart, her entire body weight drops onto you, legs squishing against the sides of your head. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, strung out and drunk off of her.

Shaking, she gradually lifts herself from you, giggling at the wetness she's left all over the bottom half of your face. Your tongue darts out, trying to get all of it, but before you can finish, Yae is undoing the buttons of your pants. It's distracting. She's so beautiful, it almost feels wrong to make her please you. As your bottoms are tugged off, cool air hits your warm skin. Goosebumps rise throughout, sending shivers up your spine. Her gentle hands pry your legs apart, crawling closer to where you needed her most.

Her warm breath brushes over your inner thighs. She doesn't move past that.

“Y-Yae please…”

You can hear the cruel chuckle she lets out. And see the way her tail sways wickedly from side to side, running over your legs.

“Hurry..”

Large wet kisses are pressed against your inner thighs, leaving a small trail of her lipstick on your skin. Then finally, after centuries of torture, her tongue darts out to lap at your clit. Sharpened nails dig into your flesh, trying to keep you from bucking against her wildly. A choked whine is caught in your throat, pain and anguish written all across your face.

“Nghh fuck…”

She's like a woman starved- hot tongue flicking against your entrance, slipping inside. An embarrassing sob traps itself in your chest, body spasming with exertion. Trembling, your hand clenches in the strands of her hair, desperate for any way to tether yourself to reality. Loud slurping and sucking sound fill the room- echoing back at you. With every movement from her, an explosion of electricity sets your nerves alight.

“O-oh god.. Yae..”

Mind clouded with lust, you roll your hips back against her. She doesn't stutter even more a second, finding her way over to your puffy clit, drawing tight little circles. Sparks flash behind your eyes and thick whimpers of ecstasy spring past your lips.

Your body is reduced to its purest instincts as Yae works her magic between your legs. Brain empty, your visceral response is to pull her closer. The knot in your lower belly tightens. The heat simmering under your skin is elevating and on the verge of  boiling over. Unintelligible babbles breach the edges of your mouth. What once were comprehensible words are reduced to merely the slurrings of a person filled with euphoria.

“I'm c-close…mmng..”

Blistering pleasure shoots through your body, ridding your lungs of any air. A pervasive ringing ringing resounds through your head, leaving your brain dizzy. Surges of pure bliss roll over you. Your hands tighten in her hair, as you're struggling to stay sane. It feels like months- years- pass before you can finally think clearly again. When you do, you're met with Yae, still naked (not complaining), peacefully sleeping next to you. She snores softly, tail twitching happily in its, presumably, good dream. She subconsciously drifts towards you, searching for warmth.

She looks so cute, but this won't stop you from getting your revenge soon.

[foone]

One thing I think about a lot is that how omegaverse is a sort of meta-setting that can and has been applied to many different fandoms, right?

So there's "omegaverse supernatural" (because that's where it started) and "omegaverse star trek" and "omegaverse Frasier" and "omegaverse Batman" and "omegaverse US presidents".

You can basically easily apply it to any fandom with lots of men in it, which turns out to be most of them. (and you can apply it to the rare female-majority fandoms with a bit of extra work).

But the interesting thing to me is that omegaverse depends on characters having subgenders: alpha/beta/omega are effectively gender roles on top of the regular male/female ones, but they're ones not specified in the original fiction, right? (I mean, not usually).

So like, you can watch NewsRadio and it makes it pretty clear Dave is a man, but it never specifies if he's an alpha or omega, because why would it? Also, why is my go-to example of a random sitcom one from 1995?

Anyway. So you've got a bunch of characters with canonical genders (not that that has ever stopped fans from headcanoning them as different! Dave is a trans man, Lisa is a trans woman, and Bill? All Phil Hartman characters are closeted trans women, so jot that down), but you don't have canonical subgenders.

So fans have to decide which characters in a fiction are alphas and omegas and so on. They tend to be pretty consistent for most characters, actually.

But the part that interests me despite not really reading omegaverse stuff is just those headcanons.

Like, I can take a show I know well, like say Star Trek: The Next Generation, and find out what the fans think their subgenders are.

Like, I'm gonna guess that Riker and Worf are alphas. Picard could go either way. LaForge is an omega, Data is... An android, but he's had sex, so... I'm gonna guess alpha? O'Brien is an omega, but that's mostly going off DS9. Maybe he wasn't in TNG yet? Wesley I'm guessing gets headcanoned as omega.

And see, now I can go look at ao3 and see what other people think for these! And for some reason that's way more interesting to me than just reading any omegaverse fic.

I think we should do more of this sort of shit. I mean, I guess we kinda do for things like top/bottom, dom/sub, trans/cis, but I demand more subgenders! Subgenders that aren't depicted in the fiction but fans have to headcanon.

I kinda want to make a sort of wiki website which works by scraping ao3 tags and assigning alpha/beta/omega to characters from shows, basically a fan vote on how people headcanon the subgenders of these characters.

Anyway I checked and oh boy yeah everyone says Wesley is an omega. Apparently Zefram Cochrane is an omega too.

And the one fic I saw with Data in it made him an omega. Huh. Interesting.

I dunno. It's weird: I've got no interest in reading a fic where these characters fuck in their weird omegaverse ways, but I can't not be interested in knowing how fans headcanon them.

[emmett6]

i am being attacked by antis.

this is emmett. emmettnet, emmettverse, emmettland, emmettundead, emmettlab. whichever blog you knew me from.

i am a whump creator. i've been in the whump community for a few years now. and now, i am unable to share my work with the community on here because people are mass reporting me for being a proshipper, and Tumblr keeps deleting my blogs as a result.

(if that isn't the reason why, i would be more than happy to get the explanation from @staff that i've been asking for.)

now, that is speculation on my part based on the timing of each termination (it's after i put my pinned post in the whump tags).

but here are the facts:

months ago, i became comfortable enough to share proshipping content. seeing as how every other artist would link their nsfw work on here, i thought it was acceptable for me to do the same so long as the preview image did not violate any rules.

an anon asked if i was a proshipper, and i said i didn't ascribe to that label*, but i agreed with the philosophy.

*i don't have any choice BUT to use it now because my posts get removed for describing what the content is

note that this anon asked multiple people in the whump community if they were proshippers. it was the same person each time, same copy-and-pasted responses.

i kept posting my proshipping content, all with links and extensive content warnings.

i started getting anon hate.

my account was terminated. after further reflection and rereading the terms of service AGAIN, i figured maybe links are not allowed and so i switched to DM only.

this time, the anon hate was consistent. every week was something new. every day felt like bracing myself to open my inbox. i kept anon on, since i have so many people who feel uncomfortable sending asks off anon and didn't want to take away their safe space.

months pass. i go on hiatus for all of July. i find out someone stole my old nsfw art and reposted their edited versions of it to rule34, a site that i never wanted my work to be on. this person waited until the exact starting day of my hiatus to do this.

i come back to more anon hate in my inbox.

suddenly, out of nowhere, my account is terminated again.

i make a new blog. more anon hate. another termination.

lather, rinse, repeat.

i stopped doing DM only stuff. i figured, if i just link my other platforms and only post safe things on Tumblr, there's nothing in the rules against that. everyone has links to their social media.

i still get terminated. and again, i keep getting terminated after i post my pinned post in the whump tags. which -- speculation again -- leads me and others to think that these antis are stalking the whump tags, waiting for me to show up so they can mass report me and get me terminated.

i have NO idea what they would report, aside from claiming i'm trying to "dodge being blocked". which, i'm not. in fact, i say every single time i come back that i WANT people to block me if they need to.

but regardless, it keeps happening.

i'm losing a place i considered home.

i'm being forced out of a community on here i love so dearly.

and you want to know something funny? for some strange reason, i'm unable to block my anons. yup. an 'error' message comes up. and i'm apparently unable to report them too -- like reporting the one who called me a 'tumblr tranny' and said i would 'always be a woman' for hate speech. oops, sorry. error message.

by now, i've been called evil. told to listen to my intrusive thoughts. told that i should be on a watch list. told that it's disgusting that someone's mutuals still interact with me. told that i have no place in the whump community.

i know that's not true.

i'm so sick and tired of being treated like this. i'm tired of being dehumanized. and i'm disgusted with this behavior.

at this point, i'm just screaming as many times as i can. i'll keep losing blogs, because i know my attackers will read this and just keep on reporting me. what do they have to lose? nothing. they don't have enough of a conscience to care. and why should they? clearly, i'm a monster. i'm a piece of shit. i don't deserve basic respect, and i apparently don't deserve to keep my 'platform'. to stay in my community and to keep my livelihood.

my discord is emmettnet. send me a DM if you don't want to lose me, because there is no point in following me repeatedly just for every blog to be terminated.

if you want to reblog this to spread the word and show your support, i would be eternally grateful. but i understand if you choose not to; i don't want anyone to be subjected to what i'm going through.

thank you for reading.

[martinblackwoodhater]

Martin Blackwood never really changed.

His attitude changed, sure - he went from "everyone I care about hates me so I must deserve it" to "I am terrible but so are these people and since they've been so mean to me I should take revenge, I'm not as weak as they all think". But his way of thinking stays the same throughout the whole series.

What I dislike about Martin and what stays the same even after his "character development" is that despite claiming to be a carer, he consistently fails to consider things from other people's perspective, and his fans overlook that part. I've always felt like his attempts at caring for people (bringing them tea etc) were somewhat clumsy, and that he never actually knew what they even wanted - i think he said so himself when he was in the Lonely that giving people tea when they seemed down was easier than discussing their problems and actually finding out what's wrong. It shows when he just jumps to sacrifice himself when Peter Lukas took over the Instutute - he was so quick to sacrifice himself and give himself away and he didn't even stop to consider that it might be unnecessary, or that there might be another solution, like discussing with his team. His help is less about actually helping and more about punishing himself and not being useless. Since he hates himself, that kind of help is not only "making up for the space he takes up" in his mind, but it's also kind of like self harm.

It also shows in season 5 when he straight up refuses to listen to Jon's explanations of the apocalypse and the statements in general.

Despite being so set on sacrificing himself for others, berating himself, and generally always trying to fix everything for everyone by himself, Martin has only ever considered his own needs.

It actually makes him feel very real as a character, but unfortunately most of the fandom has dumbed him down to two versions - season 1-3 "cutie shy softie boy with a crush on his boss awwww" and season 4-5 "hot sexy man that wants to take revenge on everyone who has ever wronged him and he is so in love with his monster boyfriend uwu❤️❤️ jon and martin are so cute together ❤️ " no they're not. Maybe Martin was fine with Jon before the apocalypse - admittedly i don't remember the safehouse ep all that well, and that seems to be what got everyone to ship them, but after the end of the wold, when they're travelling through the Fearscape together, they are so very not happy and healthy. There are so many problems. And Martin straight up refusing to listen to anything that Jon has to say about the Eyepocalypse is just the cherry on top.

Towards the end of the story, they use each other more as anchors that help them keep the remaining bits of their humanity. They ground each other, true, and they NEED each other, but their relationship is messy and tainted with the feelings of guilt, loss, and blame. They barely communicate their feelings and intentions. They stick together in order to survive, but the only thing bonding them together is shared trauma. They are broken by what they experienced. They actually don't know each other at all, just the idealized, pre-apocalypse versions of eachother. It makes me quite upset that the vast majority of the fans missed that very important aspect of their relationship.

It was literally spelled out for them by Peter Lukas:

So yeah, maybe they are canon in the sense that they were briefly in a "romantic" relationship. But the fanon version is sooo romanticized and warped and twisted and changed and made to fit into one of those neat "workplace-enemies-to-lovers" boxes like tags on ao3.

To sum up: i don't like Martin as a person, but he's written well and realistically as a character. I despise fanon Martin and Jmart. Jmart is canon, but not in the way most people seem to think.

ily xoxo you're always right this is why you're my favourite mutual (alongside all my other mutuals. you are all my favourites.)

[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 4

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal. @kirsteng42

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 3

“Hey, you think Joel was okay with us going out?” Eric asked you as he reversed his truck.

“Of course he is, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… he seems… something.”

“Something? What do you mean?”

Eric huffed a laugh, “Look, you may think we’re all pulling your leg, but when we told you we thought the two of you were crushing on each other, we weren’t kidding.”

“Oh God. How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have a crush on Joel, and he doesn’t have one on me! We’re practically siblings!” you quickly said, trying to sound tired and annoyed, but whatever came out of your mouth maybe sounded defensive instead. It certainly sounded that way to you.

“Sure you don’t. And sure he doesn’t. You should have seen your face when he sat down with that woman the other night. You looked like someone took your favourite toy away.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night Babe. I’m sure you’ll be okay if Joel meets someone else and falls madly in love and marries them and have lots of children with them. I’m sure you’ll happily smile and stand next to him as his best woman at his wedding and be his children’s Godmother.”

Your heart suddenly dropped at that image. Fuck. That’s what’s gonna happen, right? You’re gonna hide this feeling you had been keeping to yourself and vehemently tried to deny and he would find someone and you’re gonna have to watch and pretend to be happy about it.

Can you even do that?

“Babe,” Eric took your hand in his, keeping one hand on the wheel. “Just tell him. I can assure you that he feels the same way. He’s different with you. You know how he is with everyone else. A jokester. He’s an unserious guy, far too ‘jock-like’ around anyone, always making jokes, always the ‘prom-king’ vibe around him. But with you? He’s the perfect gentleman. He’s soft with you. I’ve been watching the guy for a long time, trust me. That’s why we all think he’s got a crush on you. He’s just so unserious in nature, and he just… mellows with you. So calm, so mature. It’s like he didn’t want you to have any reason to find him annoying or something.”

“That’s because Eddie shut him down ages ago.” It’s true. He used to tease you a lot, but Eddie put a stop to it. You were a sensitive child, the things your birth giver and sperm donor did to you made you insecure. So Joel hadn’t teased you the way he would others as much.

“No, it’s because he has a crush on you. You know he doesn’t really hang out with anyone since he started working? Will told me he goes for drinks after work with Will and Eddie, but other than that, he didn’t really go out much. Dave told me he was shocked Joel agreed to come to that little gathering. He lives here, but doesn’t really keep in touch with anyone, but he keeps in touch with you.”

“Because of Eddie.”

Eric pretended like he couldn’t hear you. “And get this, the man was a ladies man. You know this. Had been since puberty. Changed girlfriends as if he was trying on clothes. The way I hear it, he didn’t actually date the girls, just… have different hook up buddies for a few weeks at a time. His dates consisted of hooking up in bathrooms and trucks, and if they were lucky, he would go over to theirs for a quick tryst but never brought any of the girls home. It’s why they never last that long. A month tops. No such thing as a romantic date when you are seeing Joel Miller. And now you’re back he’s spending all this time with you, driving you everywhere and making weekend plans? He didn’t even do that with his so-called girlfriends. He’s famous for it. At the bar the other day, even when there was a hot girl sitting with him, he was only looking at you. Open your eyes Daze. He’s totally into you. And don’t even deny the fact that you hadn’t let go of a breath since I mentioned his love life.”

You had never been more aware of your breathing pattern than you were at that point in time. Fuck, were you that obvious? You knew he was telling the truth. Eddie told you the same thing. Every time he was ‘in a fight’ with his girlfriends, it’s because they were tired of being his ‘on-call girls’. He shrugged it off as him not being the relationship kind. Nothing serious, just casual. But you didn’t expect Eric to know that.

“He’s spending time with me because I am staying with him. And, it was the anniversary of Eddie’s passing. Once I get a job I will be moving out, he won’t spend so much time with me then. You’ll see. And how the fuck do you know so much about his dating life anyway?”

“Girls like to gossip with me. Oh fuck, does he know about me?”

“No.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not! You asked me not to tell anyone!”

“Babe, that was in high school. It’s okay now. Tell him. He might think you’re with me!”

“So what if he does? I told you. He doesn’t have a crush on me. He said so at the bar!”

“Uh… no he didn’t. You did.”

“Well, he doesn’t. I know that for a fact. He sees me as a sister. He definitely said that.” You turned to look out the window, trying to hide the sting you still feel after that little declaration he made to Dave and Lucy.

Eric sighed, knowing that there was no use in forcing you to admit to anything.

The dinner was… interesting… The restaurant was definitely up there. There was no way high school Eric could have possibly taken you on such an upscale date. You sat patiently as course after course was served to the two of you, plate after unnecessarily large plates were taken away, before more unnecessary plates were placed in front of you, the food miniscule in comparison. The two of you sort of kept quiet during dinner, the polite silence in the restaurant making you feel as if you might get a fine just for speaking, much less laughing the way you always did when you were with Eric. The bill finally arrived and both of you looked at the bill in shock, both quiet as you got back into his truck, bursting into laughter as soon as the valet shut the doors.

“Well… safe to say we are NOT Michelin star restaurant people!” he guffawed.

“Nu’uh. We are not. Explain to me how you just paid $300 dollars and I’m still starving?”

“Burgers? Tacos?”

“Pizza. Now. PLEASE!”

“Thank you for letting me buy you dinner. I really appreciate this. I just feel so bad you drove all the way over to screw in two screws,” Jen sat down at the small two top, a huge smile she couldn’t hide on her face.

Joel gave her a small smile back, looking around the pizza place as if he was worried about being recognized.

“Joel…” Jen said, her expression just shy of crestfallen. Joel turned to look at her, noticing her sad look, and decided to focus on her for a change. “I’m gonna ask you something. Please be honest with me.”

Joel felt bad immediately. He had a feeling he knew what she was about to ask him.

“Joel, just be honest with me. You don’t want to be here, do you? I mean, it’s not like you were being subtle. You have pretty much disregarded me from the beginning,” she said, head down, looking at her hands.

Joel sighed, feeling horrible. He gave her a regretful smile. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just… I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I’m not looking to start anything with anyone, so I just…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence – she stopped him.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. I know I come off as coming on too strongly. But the truth is, all I wanted was to thank you, and not just for the other night. See, when we were still in school, you saved me. At the pool. I cramped up and went under and no one noticed except for you. If you hadn’t saved me… I would’ve… I just wanted to thank you.”

Joel thought back to that one day when he was at the pool with his family, he was about to jump in when he saw someone floundering underwater. He jumped in and got her out, checked she was alright, and went off to swim with Tommy. He didn’t even stop after she was safely on a lounger and the lifeguard took over. But… that was her?

“So I just wanted a chance to properly thank you, that’s all. I promise. No ulterior motive. Besides,” she added, looking down at her feet, “I know you’re head over heels in love with Dahlia.”

“Daisy,” Joel corrected, before he could even stop himself. He cleared his throat, “But I’m not in love with her. She’s just a very good friend. Someone I’ve known since childhood.”

“Sure she is,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Shall we order?”

They ordered, and Joel ordered a large Hawaiian pizza to go. Jen looked at him, a small but excited smile forming on her lips. “Are you thinking of a movie night after? I don’t really like pineapples on my pizza,” she said.

 “What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“Well, we’re eating here, and you ordered another pizza to go. So, I’m guessing you have plans for us after this?” her smile was undeniable now.

Joel didn’t answer, instead, asking her, “So, what do you do for a living?”

They had small talks throughout dinner, Joel actually finding out a few things about Jen. She worked for a printing company that prints tickets for the zoo. It was why she was there that day they met. Her parents moved away from Austin to take care of her elderly grandparents, and she stayed for work. She usually stayed in, she didn’t really have that many friends, she was too introverted to go out and meet people.

“Which means I don’t have that many friends. So, if you don’t mind, I would really like to have you as a friend, Joel. Dahlia too. Maybe we could hang out together, the three of us. Her boyfriend too, if she’s okay with that,” she said, crumpling her paper napkin up.

“Daisy,” Joel corrected.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I keep doing that,” she said, laughing a little, covering her face with her hands.

Just as he was thinking of a way to let her down gently, the bell at the door dinged, and you and Eric walked in. He froze. As did you. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed he was there with Jen, causing Eric to walk directly into you, immediately placing his hand around your middle to stop you from falling.

You couldn’t even lie to yourself at that point. Seeing him willingly going out for dinner with her… but you had no right to feel this way. He’s not your boyfriend.

“You okay?” Eric whispered, clocking Joel’s presence, the man obviously uncomfortable seeing the two of you there. You composed yourself, nodding quickly. You smiled at Joel and began walking to the counter.

“I ordered a Hawaiian for you,” Joel quickly said, “Figured you’d still be hungry. I was gonna take it home later.”

“You did? So I don’t have to wait long to eat again?”

“Miniscule servings?”

“So tiny I needed a microscope to see me food!” you exclaimed, making him laugh. Eric shook his head, laughing along. “Never again,” he told Joel. “Can I have a couple slices please? Do you mind Joel?”

“Sure. I get it. The bigger the plate the smaller the portion huh?” the three of you laughed. Joel asked the guy at the counter to give you the pizza he ordered, paid and asked Jen if she was ready to leave.

“Oh, I thought the pizza was for us,” she said, looking disappointed.

“Was it? It’s okay if it is, I’ll order one for myself,” you quickly said, feeling rather bad seeing her crestfallen looks.

“No, I ordered it for you. I should get you home, Jen. It’s getting late,” Joel quickly said, walking towards the door, “See you at home?” he asked you, and you nodded, Eric taking the box from you, following behind.

“The two of you live together?” Jen quietly asked as Joel reversed the truck.

He simply nodded, unable to pretend any longer. He just wanted to get back home, spend time with you. He missed you, despite only leaving your company less than three hours ago.

“You know, you paid for dinner. Can we do this again? So I can pay this time? The dinner was supposed to be my way of paying you for your inconvenience. Maybe lunch tomorrow?” Jen tried again.

“Sorry. I have a family lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, fun! Where?”

“My parents’.”

“Oh that’s nice… they still at the big house?”

“Er… yeah, how do you know that?”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows where your parents live. The whole town knew when your parents built that house. It was literally the only thing everyone talked about,” she laughed. “What about Sunday?”

Joel thought for a while before finally telling her, “Jen, I’m really sorry. But I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry if me saying okay to dinner tonight gave you the wrong impression, but I don’t need you to pay me back for anything.”

“Okay,” Jen nodded, “Sorry, I really wasn’t trying to…”

“Maybe the next time we run into each other at the bar we can have a drink together or something, but we don’t need to make plans for anything. Really, Jen, it’s not a big deal.”

She nodded. “Okay. I’d like that. When that happens, the drinks are on me, okay?”

Joel smiled, nodding. His phone rang just as he turned into her driveway, telling her he had to take it, apologizing for not walking her to her door. He didn’t wait for her to go inside, answering as he reversed. He drew a deep breath when he answered the call, finding out the origin of the call. “What have you done now, Tommy?”

Eric turned into Joel’s driveway, asking you if you would be okay alone until Joel got back. You nodded, asking him to wait while you put a couple of slices into a container for him to take home. Just as he hit the brakes to stop, the engine cut out. Just like that. He tried restarting it but only got a sad rattling sound from the attempt.

“What the fuck?” Eric groaned, quickly going up front to see what was going on. “I have no idea what is going on,” he told you, blindly looking at the engine, wishing to God he had taken mechanical engineering instead of chemical.

“Let’s just go inside. Joel might know. He fixes his own truck, maybe you could ask him. He shouldn’t be long,” you told him, unlocking the front door.

The two of you ate the pizza quietly, leaving some for Joel. Eric was now in a bad mood over his truck, and you in a similar mood over Joel not being home yet. What was taking him so long? An hour had passed, and you were extremely tempted to just call him to ask his whereabouts.

But then… what if he stayed at Jen’s? What if you interrupted their… fuck… you couldn’t even finish that thought. You shook your head a little, almost laughing at your own silliness. What did it matter if he was… you know… with Jen? He wasn’t yours to be jealous over.

Eric seemed to catch on, nudging you with his foot. “You’re thinking Joel and Jen…?”

You could feel your tears welling up, so you got up and told him you were going to bed. Would he be okay waiting for Joel alone? Sure, he told you, his eyes understanding, maybe there was a smidge of pity there too. He texted his mechanic Jim just in case Joel was far too late coming home. Could be the timing belt, Jim theorized. He would be over first thing in the morning. Eric put on a movie while waiting for Joel to come home, falling asleep before the opening credits even ended.

You laid in bed, tossing and turning, waiting for the sounds of Joel’s truck. You couldn’t sleep well that night, waking every half an hour or so, fighting the demonic images of him and Jen in your head, falling asleep again, before finally giving up at around six, getting up to go for a run. You woke a curled up Eric and told him to go and sleep on your bed, the couch wasn’t exactly the comfiest. The man was so tired and groggy he didn’t put up a fight, kicking his pants off and falling asleep on your bed before you shut the front door to leave.

Joel’s truck was not there. The lump in your chest was threatening to make it’s way up your body and out of your tear ducts, so you started running. You kept running when you made your way around the housing area to see his truck still not there, repeating the lap until you felt like simply running away out of Austin altogether.

Joel hit the brakes when he saw Eric’s truck parked in his driveway, a coldness he could not even describe seeping up his spine. He sat in his truck for a while, willing himself not to cry. He should be happy for you. This was not about him. Served him right for never having the balls to tell you how he felt. He finally exited his truck, heart at the sole of his foot, unlocking the front door, trying to tell his heart to calm down. Please God, he quietly prayed, please don’t let him hear the two of you. He wouldn’t survive. He saw the pizza box on the coffee table, smiling a little at the sight of the leftovers, knowing that you left it out on purpose for him. He knew without knowing that you did think of having the pizzas with him. He then sighed, remembering that you spent the night with Eric, realizing that he was stupidly hopeful, shaking his head, taking the box to the kitchen.

A phone rang from your room, Eric’s voice answering, a scrambling and a squeak of your bed followed, the door hastily opened. Eric came flying out, putting his pants on, immediately running out the front door, still on the phone, not even noticing Joel standing in the kitchen with a crestfallen look on his face. His eyes wandered to your closing door, praying that you stayed in there and not come out half-dressed looking all fucked out. But in his mind, he could see you on your bed, naked, all warm and blissed out from what he imagined was the perfect date.  

Joel couldn’t help himself. He could not see this. He went straight into the bathroom, shutting the door and turning the shower on, drowning his thoughts in the warm water. He let his tears run down his cheeks, almost sobbing at the images going on in his head, trying hard to tell his heart that he was okay with this. He would be happy if you were happy with Eric. He would smile and stand beside you through it all. He ended up on the floor, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking from an overwhelming emotion he did not know he could feel over something he himself had caused, his tired body and the lack of sleep only making things worse. If only he had had the courage to tell you. If only he was a better man.

Took him a while, but he finally peeled himself off the bathroom floor and dried himself, opening the door, only to bump into you, body wrapped in just a towel, your skin all flushed and pink. You turned around when you noticed he was only in a towel too, holding your own close to your body, asking him if he had seen Eric.

“He left in a hurry like 15-20 minutes ago,” he mumbled, the only thing he could manage without his voice cracking. He walked towards his room, stopping when he heard you call his name.

You looked as if you were contemplating something, your eyes avoiding his, before finally asking him what time he planned on leaving for his parents’ for the lunch. Joel looked at the clock, telling you he was planning on going back to sleep for a few hours, so maybe, 11ish? You nodded, telling him you needed to sleep too, a resignation in your voice before closing the bathroom door behind you.

The drive to the Millers’ was a quiet one, both of you still processing the going ons that were invading your heads – you with the images of Joel and Jen in her bed, Joel with you and Eric in yours.

The squeal from Anita Miller put those thoughts out of your head, the woman hugging you, rocking you side to side as if her life depended on it. She only stopped when Jake Miller insisted it was his turn, picking you off the ground and spinning you around, telling you he missed you, quickly divesting your hands off the wine and dessert you had brought. Anita hugged Joel, slipping her arms in yours and Joel’s, asking the two of you how living under the same roof was going so far, and asking you if the book keeping is giving you any grief.

“Look who’s here everyone!” Anita hollered as you got to the backyard, Olivia immediately getting up from helping Will’s mom, Aunt Tina with the napkins to give you a hug. His mom hugged you next, and the next thing you knew you were lifted off the ground once more, this time by an excited Benny, excited to see you.

As you helped the family set the outdoor table, you couldn’t help yourself from taking a handful of the blueberries on the table, literally shoving them down your throat. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were. You over exerted yourself with your self-pity run that morning and did not have breakfast from the awkwardness of seeing Joel in a towel, trying hard not to imagine any of Jen’s bite marks on his perfect body.

“Hey Daze, have you seen…” Joel’s voice came out of nowhere, shocking the living crap out of you, making you splutter, slightly choking from an errant blueberry or two. “Oh shit,” he said, grabbing some napkins and rubbing your back as you literally coughed your throat out, leaving you for a second and coming back with a glass of water. He helped clean your face and made you drink the water, asking you if you were okay, worry written all over his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You started laughing, shaking your head. “Not your fault. I thought you were the blueberry police.”

He scanned your body, seeing the blueberries left in your hand, pointed at it with a horrified expression, gasping a conspiratorial “Thief!” at you.

“I’m hungry! I didn’t have breakfast!”

“Me neither,” he said, smiling down at your laughing face. He had a cheeky look on him all of a sudden, looking left and right, before taking something from the table, shoving it in your hand. “Take this. Be cool,” he murmured, grabbing something else from the table. He took your hand in his and calmly walked away, taking you with him, reminding you once more to be cool. You were about ten steps away when his Aunt Tina’s voice can be heard asking Olivia if she had seen the basket of focaccia and butter she had just placed on the table. Joel grasped your hand hard, “Shit, run!” and pulled you along with him as the two of you made your way to the treehouse he and Eddie had built one summer when the two of you were invited to stay, way back when they had first moved to this property.

You hid behind him as he peeked to see if you were being followed. “I think we’re okay,” he said, producing the basket of focaccia he had smuggled under his shirt, placing it up on the deck of the treehouse before taking the pot of butter he had passed on to you and doing the same. He helped you climb up before climbing up himself, taking a warm slice of focaccia, tearing it in half and dipping it in butter, offering it to you.

“And you called me a thief!” you gasped, looking scandalized that he had made you his accomplice. But you were so hungry you scarfed that piece of bread down like it was the first piece of food you had had in days. Your eyes closing at the warm, buttery, herb-filled mixture in your mouth, tilting your head back, enjoying the sun in your face. “Fuck, I’ve missed this focaccia. Your Mom makes the best ones ever, I swear to God!”

“Mm Hmm…” he nodded, his mouth full. He shuffled back so that his back was against the wall of the treehouse, basket of focaccia and the pot of butter on his lap, dipping another, patting the floor next to him so you’d join him. You did, taking another piece of focaccia, savouring it.

Your head wanted you to ask him about last night, but your heart told you not to. What if he told you everything? Could you take it? The way your stomach dropped at the thought told you no, you would not be able to take it. So you didn’t ask, silently willing him not to tell you anything about it either.  

“I have a job interview on Monday,” you reminded him. “I’m going straight there in the morning and will go to the office after.”

“I’ll drive you,” he said, taking a blueberry from your hand.

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll cab it. I don’t know how long it’ll take. Don’t you have to be on site?”

“I’ll talk to my Dad, I’m sure he’ll understand,” he countered.

Your intention to protest was interrupted by heavy footsteps, followed by Aunt Tina and Anita Miller glaring up at the two of you, both with slices of focaccia literally in your hands.

“I knew it!” Aunt Tina yelled out, her eyes glinting with mischief. “We found them! And yes, they have the bread!” she called out to someone beyond your line of sight.

Benny came running up, a camera in his hands, snapping pictures of the two of you, looking guilty as fuck with stolen focaccias in your hands, Anita climbing the ladder a little to take the half empty basket of focaccia and pot of butter away from the thieves, teasing you about old habits and mischiefs, a smile on her face. “Food’s ready,” she told you, “Tommy’s on the way. We’ll eat as soon as he gets here.”

Joel shuffled to the edge of the treehouse, jumping down. He turned around and offered his hands for you to follow, easily catching you when you slid down after him, your body landing on his solid chest.

“Hey, look here,” Benny said, camera at the ready. Joel placed his hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his lips landing on your temple, your eyes closing at the sensation. You opened your eyes and smiled at the camera, as did he. “Beautiful,” Benny said, smiling. “Come on, I can hear Tommy’s truck.”

Joel placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the outdoor dining table, Tommy immediately coming over to give you a hug. “Hey Daze,” he mumbled, squeezing you a little.

“Fuck, Tommy, did you bathe in whiskey?” you couldn’t help remarking, almost recoiling at the sour smell seeping out of his pores. He chuckled a little bit, looking sheepish, “Yeah… had a little too much fun last night.”

He looked at Joel, not meeting his eyes, mumbling something about saying hi to their parents and aunt before asking Joel if they could talk. Benny called out to you from the side entrance of the house, beckoning you over. You gave Tommy a quick pat on the shoulder before joining his cousin.

“Hey, uhm… what time did you leave? I woke up and you were gone,” Tommy asked his brother, avoiding his eyes.  

“Early. Does Mom know about last night?”

Tommy shook his head, pleading for him not to tell.

“You gotta reign it in, man. Stop looking for reasons to fight others.”

“He grabbed her arm hard, Joel, was I supposed to just let him do that?”

“He just found out his wife was out on a date with you!” Joel seethed, controlling his voice so no one would hear. He rubbed his temples, “I have a headache. I didn’t get much sleep last night. You should go shower. Mom’s gonna freak if she sees you like this.”

“I already showered,” Tommy defended.

“Well, you need another one. Daze was right. You reek of whiskey,” Joel countered, going inside to find something for his throbbing head, the headache hitting him suddenly upon seeing his troubled brother again.

You went over to Benny, who quickly pulled you aside, looking behind you to make sure no one followed. “Hey Daze, can you keep a secret?”

“Uh… depends, what’s going on?”

Benny looked guilty, looking out to the driveway to make sure no one was coming. “I have a friend coming over, I was gonna introduce him to my Mom, but… I don’t know Daze… I think… Fuck… I’m terrified. I don’t know if I’m ready for this today. Thing is, I know he’s your friend too… so…” he rubbed his face, looking guilty as fuck, “In case my cold feet hadn’t gone away by the time he arrived, could you cover for me? Maybe say he’s here cause you invited him?” He bounced on his feet a little, hands in his pockets, shoulders up to his ears, looking more jittery than you had ever seen him.

You frowned, “What’s the big deal about you inviting a friend over? Why would you get cold feet about introducing a friend to your Mom?”

The bounce in his feet turned into a rocking back and forth, something he did when he felt uncomfortable. “Daze…” he whispered, his eyes pleading as a familiar truck approached.

“Eric?” you wondered out loud. Benny went up the driveway, hands still in his pockets as Eric exited his truck, giving you a small awkward wave. Benny said something to him, glancing your way. You were sort of frozen where you were, confused as to what was going on. How did Benny know Eric? Benny went to the boy’s school for the wrestling team, so they didn’t meet at school. You could see Eric take a deep breath, shaking his head a little at whatever Benny was saying to him, but ultimately he rolled his eyes and nodded, seemingly giving in to the situation at hand. Benny looked around cautiously for a bit before stepping towards Eric, giving him a sweet kiss.

Wait.

Oh…

Benny? Really? Huh. You didn’t know him as well as you thought you did then.

The two made their way towards you, Benny avoiding your eyes for a bit. He stopped in front of you, grimacing, as if begging you to cooperate. You rolled your eyes. “Fine!” you huffed, immediately engulfed by an overly enthusiastic, thankful hug from the younger man. Eric gave you a quick hug, immediately launching into the issue with his truck, apologizing for not telling you he had left, having woken up abruptly in a panic from Jim’s phone call. You listened intently as the three of you walked towards the dining table, Will coming to greet Eric, eyeing his brother suspiciously. Benny continued looking guilty, shaking his head at his brother, who simply patted him on his back, telling Eric he’s sorry. Eric just smiled, shrugging a little.

Anita and Aunt Tina came outside, greeting Eric enthusiastically. They knew him as Joel and Will’s friend, obviously, Will quickly telling them he had invited him over, just because. “Of course!” Anita quickly said, putting her arm around Eric’s, the other around yours. “Didn’t you two use to date?” she asked you, making Benny sputter on his own saliva. “You did? I didn’t know that.”

“It’s ancient history, Ben,” Will said, pushing his brother forward. “We’re just good friends now, Mrs Miller,” Eric added. Anita smiled, squeezing his arm. “Well, you’re always welcome,” she assured him, Aunt Tina nodding vehemently in agreement.

“Come sit down!” Aunt Tina said, pulling a chair for Eric, pushing you a little to sit next to him.

Joel came out with the pasta in his hands, Tommy following with the salad, almost knocking Joel over in the process. The man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Eric, only walking on when Tommy ran into him. He shook Eric’s hand, mumbling something about not expecting him there, his eyes glancing at you.

“Will invited him,” Anita absent-mindedly commented, passing the napkins around. You pulled the chair next to you, inviting Joel to sit, but he chose to sit way at the other end of the table instead, Tommy taking the seat.

Joel could feel his headache doubling, tripling, even. Sure, Will supposedly invited Eric, according to his mother, but deep down he knew it had to have been you. Why the fuck would Will invite Eric over? His head felt heavy, the Tylenol he took didn’t seem to do it’s job at all. He ate his pasta half-heartedly, half listening to the conversations going on at the table, trying to figure out a way to find his way back up to his old room without alerting anyone and just burying himself into his pillows. Much as he tried not to look, he couldn’t help but see the easy smiles and laughter you were giving Eric, how comfortable you were with him.

His head was throbbing. He excused himself and went to the bathroom, finding some extra strength pain killer his Dad took for his back, downing a couple. He heard his Mom call his name. He splashed some water onto his face and came out to a quiet backyard, everyone seemingly focused on someone he couldn’t see. He stepped outside to see Jen standing awkwardly with a box in her hand. She smiled when she saw him. He went to her, an unease in his heart.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

“Well, you didn’t want me to buy you dinner, so I’m just dropping this off. I just really wanted to pay you back,” she said, handing him the box. She stood awkwardly for a bit, looking around at the faces of everyone there, avoiding your eyes, before finally telling him she was just gonna take off then, slowly turning around to leave.

No one said anything. You could hear a pin drop. Joel didn’t know what came over him, but he heard his own voice call out.

“Wait, stay. Have some lunch.”

Part 5

[scoobydoodean]

I feel like you’re one of the few people I’d trust to ask this of, but I always find myself wondering at the different reactions Dean has to hunting, i.e: Sam and others. Like I don’t think at all that he forced Sam back or was dragging him around or anything like that. But even way back then with Jo he was always like “get away from this life”. And still, especially early on, he seemed to be offended/angry that Sam didn’t like the life/want it for himself. I always personally understood it as a mix of sibling bickering like “ohh you think you’re so much better”, a front so as to pretend “hey everything is fine don’t look too closely” and Sam himself kinda conflating hunting = family and thus had to cut both out to be free of it, so in turn Dean also associated Sam walking away from hunting as walking away from family (reinforced by Heaven and Purgatory, later on, in slightly different ways) (although which came first and/or how much that was influenced by John first is ultimately a chicken and egg situation, I suppose). But I’d like to know if you have thoughts on this? Sorry for the long ask, I hope it was coherent?

NOTE: For anyone looking for commentary on Dean absolutely not forcing Sam back into hunting, my tags #sam the hunter, #sam the family man, and #in which... I am too lazy to write all that out may be of use.

So if I understand correctly, what we're getting at here is that Dean pretty consistently tries to talk people (especially younger people) out of the life or objects to involving them. For example, Jo (2.06), Adam (4.19), Jimmy (4.20), Krissy and her dad (7.11), Krissy's friends (8.18), Claire (10.20). He tries to protect Jesse and Cesar's retirement. But when it comes to Sam, Dean isn't so into trying to talk him out of the life.

To discuss the premise itself first, I can think of the following instances where Dean is hurt, skeptical, or displays some other sort of objection to Sam vs normal life: 1.01, 1.16, 4.22, 5.16, 8.01 (Pine's rewatch notes help me out here too). On the other hand, I can also think of many moments where Dean is supportive of Sam having a normal life or wishes that for him. Starting from 1.06 and 1.18, Dean says that he wishes Sam could just be normal. By 1.07, Dean is suggesting they just stay in the college town representing Sam's wistful desire for normality. I have a compilation gifset of these and a few other season 1 moments here. In 2.20, Dean beams with happiness that Sam is living a normal life and has Jess by his side—this is also despite the fact that he and Sam are estranged in the Djinn dream universe. In season 8, while Dean is hurt and angry that Sam left him to die and abandoned Kevin, when the opportunity presents itself for Sam to get back together with Amelia in 8.10 and go be normal, Dean tells Sam he should go to her if that's what would make him happy. In 8.14, Dean says he wants to do The Trials so that Sam can survive and go be normal. Basically what I'm getting at is that while moments occur where Dean seems hurt by Sam wanting a normal life or has some other objection, there are more moments where the exact opposite is true. This contrast also opens the door for questions about why Dean sometimes reacts negatively and sometimes doesn't (or maybe has to "come around" to the idea). The mixed bag suggests a lot of different and sometimes conflicting emotions, which is very realistic I think.

I don't think every single one of these reasons factors into every single one of the five episodes I mentioned where Dean seems hurt/skeptical about Sam + normal life, but here we go:

First, while Dean tries to push a lot of people out of the life and is also shown to crave a normal life for himself at various points (ex: 2.20, 3.10, 5.17), he does believe that being involved with the supernatural world is physically unavoidable for some people, and that it psychologically gets its hooks into others to the point they eventually can't get out/turn back (ex: 4.19). Jack, Jesse, and Kevin (and Sam and Dean themselves eventually) are examples of people Sam and Dean see as stuck in the life practically, because demons and angels are after them for reasons out of all of their control. However, Sam and Dean were both psychologically stuck in hunting first. For Dean, the house fire and how he was raised leave him feeling stuck in the hunting world. Sam doesn't remember the fire, but follows on John's heels when Jess dies in the same manner that Mary did. The trauma of losing Jess creates a commonality and drive that wasn't present before, causing Sam to say that he and his father aren't different anymore—in fact, they have more in common than just about anyone (1.20). On many occasions, Sam also talks about hunting as an inevitability/something he can't "come back" from at this point even if he wanted to (ex: 2.10, 4.19, 4.21). Closely interrelated, at various points, Sam also says that hunting has become a life he loves and/or prefers to normality (ex: 2.02, 2.20, 4.08, 4.17, 5.12a, 5.12b, 5.12c, 10.18).

Dean's language in 1.01 "Sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are" suggests part of Dean sees Sam as a hunter at the core from the beginning who is hiding from who he really is deep down. I think there is some truth to this (see my #sam the hunter tag). In that scene in 1.01, Dean generally expresses skepticism that Sam is really capable of leading the life he's trying to live long term. I think Dean also has reason to think that way, given that Sam outright admits he plans to lie to Jess forever... which kind of means Sam stays in the hunter mindset (where you lie to normal people every day to keep up appearances) and never really gets to be himself either way. Dean doesn't think this is practical or healthy and says so (and he's not wrong). All this to say—I think in 1.01, Dean has difficulty understanding that Sam has not (quite yet) fallen into the hunting world. Dean and John are kind of bonded by the shared trauma of losing Mary, but Sam doesn't share that trauma (as Sam himself points out on the bridge, saying he doesn't even remember Mary). Of course, that changes by the end of the episode. 8.01, Dean is just "?!?!?!?!?" because Sam has told Dean point blank on multiple occasions at that point that he prefers hunting to being normal (2.20, 4.08, 5.12) and has been overall rather into hunting, and has voiced the same thinking as Dean in regards to not being able to get out psychologically even if he wanted to (4.19, 5.12). There's a reason that when Sam says he doesn't hunt anymore in 8.01, Dean thinks he's joking at first. (I talk about why Sam left hunting between seasons 7 and 8 here). The thing is is that (unless driven by a burning desire for revenge as in the season 3-4 gap and the season 9-10 gap) Sam will not hunt without Dean. Not because Dean "makes" him hunt, but because Sam doesn't have the heart for the work without Dean by his side. (See the "I can't do it without my brother" 10.18 speech).

SAM: You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE: You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM: Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….

Interrelated to the concept of hunting as inescapable and as something Sam voices his enjoyment of multiple times—in 1.01, Dean also (though part bravado) still romanticizes hunting to an extent (though not for much longer—we see this by the time he meets Jo). This definitely factors into how Dean approaches the subject in 1.01, though I don't think it factors into later moments.

Second, Dean is the heart character, and as the heart character, he feels a responsibility to protect people. When he tells Sam in the pilot "You have a responsibility", I think what Dean means is "saving people, hunting things, the family business". It isn't revenge that they have a responsibility toward (Dean will be the one to say he hopes they never find the demon if it means Sam or John killing themselves to end it (1.22) but that from Dean's perspective, Dean's knowledge of what's out there and his proficiency at the job gives him a moral obligation to try and save people in harms way. On the other hand, I don't think Sam feels this way—at least not nearly so strongly. Sam's approach to hunting has always been more family focused imo. Both brothers hunt as a means of coping to an extent, but more largely, Dean hunts because he feels deeply for others and wants—and even feels a duty to—protect people. Sam hunts because hunting makes him feel close to his family and makes him feel known, and because it is where he feels he can be himself (ex: 4.17). More succinctly—for Dean, the order goes, "Saving people, hunting things, the family business" and for Sam, the order goes, "The family business, saving people, hunting things" I think. This difference in motivations occasionally creates interesting tension on the hunt, but it is also creates confusion when Sam has left hunting pre-series, and again in season 8.

SAM: Look, it wasn't like I was... just oblivious. I mean, I read the paper every day. I saw the weird stories… the kind of stuff we used to chase. DEAN: And you said what? "Not my problem"? SAM: Yes. And you know what? The world went on.

8.01 "We Need To Talk About Kevin"

Dean doesn't understand this. He can't wrap his head around it because Dean doesn't think this way, and I'm not sure Dean ever gets exactly why Sam is driven to hunt. He doesn't really get the strength of the family connection for Sam... and Dean has reason not to, because from the outside looking in, Sam cutting Dean out of his life every time he decides he doesn't want to hunt anymore sounds like he doesn't actually care about Dean that much deep down... or at all. So how on earth could Sam's interest in and love for hunting be connected to caring about his brother DEAN???

That brings me to the third reason for some of this occasional hurt from Dean, which is that you're right about Sam (and then Dean in turn) associating normal life with cutting Dean off, because that's what Sam does. Any time Sam goes after a normal life, there seems to be no room for contact with Dean in it. When Sam goes to school, even though his fight was with John, it's implied that he wouldn't take Dean's calls which is why Dean showed up in person (1.01).

NOTE: This period is a little tricky, because the script was supposed to say they hadn't spoken since Sam left at 18, but what accidentally made it into the show is that they may have been in contact for the first two years. The two years wouldn't make things much better though, because with Dean's dialogue "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." It still seems like Sam is the one who cut ties.

In 1.16 "Shadow", when Dean brings up wanting to stay together and "be a family again" even after the business with the demon is concluded, Sam makes it clear he's returning to school—which is perfectly fine. However, buried within this conversation is the implication that Dean doesn't want to lose contact with Sam again, and Sam doesn't give any assurances about calling or staying in contact because... he plans to cut Dean off again, even while telling Dean he loves him.

"Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. [...] I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way."

Dean looks at this and goes "?????" because how can Sam talk about how much he cares for Dean and then in the same breath, essentially say he doesn't want to see him anymore after this? That makes no sense... right? And the self-hating part of Dean who believes Meg's manipulative framing in 1.16 about him dragging Sam everywhere even though Sam has repeatedly been the race horse raring for revenge and getting angry when Dean can't pull leads on John or the demon out of his ass thinks maybe he IS somehow responsible for every horrible thing that has happened to Sam and how Sam's life is now. And Dean's insecurities are reinforced too because Sam has thrown it in his face that it's his fault in moments where he was angry and felt a loss of control. So Dean doesn't understand how hunting is actually positively connected to family and him for Sam, and Sam doesn't understand how Dean doesn't understand and doesn't know how to reassure him (5.16), and that's how we get Dean unloading his insecurities about Sam not loving him in 4.22 (to Bobby) and 5.16 (to Sam). In both discussions, Dean's lack of belief in Sam's care for him is closely connected to Sam's desire for normality and how Dean felt tossed away like garbage and like his efforts were never enough. I talk about the dialogue in 4.22 more in depth here (added context of Sam calling Dean weak for his trauma and strangling Dean near unconscious matters lmao). In 5.16, Zachariah (imo) repeatedly pushes the brothers toward Sam's memories of normality and being away from Dean as part of his psychological ploy, and it works even though Sam's strongly stated lack of interest in normality is (arguably) at its zenith (4.08, 4.19, 5.12) because the brothers relationship is so weak from season 4. If we didn't already get it, we as viewers realize Sam loves his brother very much and has many happy memories with him despite appearances in 5.22 when happy memories with Dean are what pulls Sam from Lucifer's control.

Another important episode here in regards to Dean’s perceptions of Sam's feelings versus how Sam actually sees Dean is 2.20 "What Is And What Should Never Be". There's a variety of things to be said about how in Dean's dream, he envisions himself as someone his family would look down upon even in a paradise scenario. However, one of the bits we get from the whole dream is that Dean believes that in normal life scenario, Sam wouldn't want to be around him. Dean envisions himself as kind of a terrible person (and as usual, he is being really ugly about himself in a way that isn't at all warranted), but undoubtably, there's also a classist stench to the scenario—Dean the blue collar worker, Sam the hot shot lawyer who looks down his nose at Dean. I don't doubt that deep down, Dean kind of believes the real Sam sees himself as upwardly mobile and Dean as beneath him. One of the ways Dean potentially forms that conclusion is how Sam treats him over money early in the series. That said, the REAL Sam is surprised by their lack of connection in Dean's "paradise". When Dean suggests that without hunting, they never would have connected, Sam makes it clear that he's glad they have.

But yeah! Those scenes in 4.22 and 5.16 aren't even about Sam wanting to be normal—they're about how Dean feels discarded every time Sam goes after normal (and it happens again in 8.01).

Lastly, Dean's also dealing with jealousy in a couple of these moments. Before we ever met him, Dean had his own wistful desires for normal (9.07, 1.06, 1.13). Safety and a home and normality were things he felt he couldn't ever really have (this also comes post-breakup with Cassie). Even in 8.10, when Dean tells Sam to get back with Amelia if he can, he adds,

And, you know, maybe I'm a little bit jealous. I could never separate myself from the job like you could.

I think this line leads directly back to Dean as the heart character who has extreme difficulty with the concept of burying his head in the sand—something Sam was able to do easily (like... too easily RE: Kevin). I think Dean kind of judges Sam for doing that, but at the same time, Dean also knows he has an overactive sense of responsibility—he just can't shake it despite knowing that (2.20, 5.11, 7.04). So he envies that Sam can even if he thinks Sam leans too far the other direction sometimes.

I also don't think this bit from Shifter!Dean in 1.06 was too off:

You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? [...] See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.

I think coupled with that jealousy in 1.01, we also see Dean's resentment, because he sacrificed everything for their family. He sacrificed his childhood to take care of his father who was a mess, and play mother and father to his brother, and he had a gun in his hand meant to kill before he was even 10, and Dean resents all of this. Dean was made to be the responsible one when he was just a child out of necessity, and John (someone Dean repeatedly calls a deadbeat in season 5) took advantage and then discarded him (a part of Dean does know he deserves better), and Sam cut Dean out of his life the moment he was no longer of use. It isn't just that Sam doesn't feel the weight of the burdens Dean was made to shoulder—Sam doesn't even seem to realize they exist, and Dean is resentful. He wants someone in his family besides him to shoulder some of the family responsibilities Dean has spent so long carrying alone. His feelings are misdirected toward Sam in 1.01 in that regard, but they're also very human.

Even so, Dean's love supersedes jealousy and resentment. We see this clearly in 1.18 "Something Wicked", which is all about Dean's childhood being stolen and him being burdened with responsibilities that were too big and blamed for people dying when he was just a child and it wasn't his fault, but at the end of the episode, Dean doesn't wish innocence for himself—he wishes it for Sam. Even though the episode is all about Dean's memory of his own trauma. And in 2.20, in his "paradise" dream, Sam gets to be normal, and he and Sam don't even get along, and Dean doesn't care—he's just over the moon that his brother gets to live a normal life.

[enjoythesilentworld]

2024 fandom review!

thank u for the tag @willesredlights sorry it took me literally ages to get to it

lets pretend we're not almost two weeks into the new year ok? and what a year it has been. holy shit.

~ Fics written ~

I'll be honest I did go a little batshit crazy this past year. 314k words across 19 published works, plus god knows how much more unpublished on tumblr. listen, I was deep in the ??? phase of my master's (still am, lets be honest) and desperately looking for a new creative outlet. I've always been a writer, always loved dreaming up stories, but I have never quite connected to a universe as much as I have to this one. I resonate with so many of the characters, and i just feel like there is so much room to play and explore. i will continue to add in old people OCs to my fics wherever and whenever i get the chance.

First fic: for the tree's sake (M, 48k) aka tree boys inspired by the trip that eventually led to my discover of young royals in late '23, and my darling baby. yes, that airplane ride that seems weird and random is based on truth!

Fav fic: just if for a minute (T, 53k) aka fake married idiots i greatly enjoyed making Wille suffer for just under 53k. that confrontation scene took days off my life and yet i am so proud of how it turned out.

Honorary mention to Growing towards the light, which was a dream to work on and create with my dear sweet friend Lia. there is one braincell between the two of us and it's full of nature facts and dick jokes. and beautiful stories about getting lost in the wilderness and finding yourself along the way. and tent-dick jokes.

Last fic: Wille på Hyllan (T, 13k) aka christmas shenanigans! another collab with my dearest friends which was hilarious to write and so silly and imo an example of one of the greatest perks of being in a fandom: meeting some of the most incredible people ever. also, dick-lights and dick-tomtar and dick-cookies. what more could you want?

~ Fics Read ~

if i tried to go through my history and tell you how many fics i read this year i would never make this post. i'd be here counting and trying to copy links forever. i read hundreds of fics. i enjoyed all of them, thoroughly. i got a lot better at leaving comments (sometimes). i was consistently and repeatedly blown away by the genius brains we have in this little Swedish corner of the internet.

if you are a writer i love you and i give u a kiss on the forehead.

also: i recently made a lil rec list here.

~ Other Stuff? ~

i had two big, busy months this year. three? : May, Wille's month & July, Simon's month i cannot believe i wrote 62 stories in 62 different universes (give or take a few). that's kind of stupid! but oh my god it was so fun!! some of my favs: -> Food, where Wille and Simon meet and embark on a mistakenly booked couples food tour in Barcelona -> Fashion/Style, aka the Met Gala AU aka the thing that turned into something so much bigger than i could have ever imagined. literally i thought people were gonna hate it. so, thank u for not hating it. and for letting it become 15k+ of pwp. -> Secret, friends to lovers RAHHHHHH -> Home (Improvement), aka grumpy home renovator Simon idk i just feel like this should become a full-blown fic one day

and oh boy who can forget about Kinktober from wax kinks in 17th century Italy to desperate love confession in the middle of wildfires to... whatever that was in the confessional (idk, that's between them and God).

2024...

I did some painting: x x I wrote some real weird lil ficlets: x x and I met dozens of incredible people. thank u for liking my stupid rambling posts from 3am and my silly little ficlets and for reading my stories and telling me about your stories and saving me from the Frankfurt airport and yelling with me about stuff thats definitely not in the Bible and sharing your time and space and art and care.

@bigalockwood @hergrandplan @gulliblelemon @saynomorefic @pagegirlintraining @skibasyndrome @sobadbad @impossibleknots @piebingo @theaviatorthatcouldnotfly @misfithive @sillylittleflower @zee-has-commitment-issues @purplehoodiesandclementines @justfriendsbestthings

giving u a big hug. and! this is by no means an exhaustive list. if ur reading this we are bffs. send me a message ok? ok. y'all keep me sane and happy and i am so grateful for you! live love wilmon

[editthat]

Editing (Fan)fiction Like a Pro

Yes, most of us write fanfiction for ourselves, in our free time, and as a way to release stress. This means that, more often than not, we do not have the will or energy to spend hours editing our latest one-shot or the newest chapter for that longfic we updated...uh...has it already been five months??

While I wholeheartedly agree that we shouldn't strive to be perfect in the things we do for pleasure (and what counts as perfection in a highly subjective field such as literature?), you don't need to spend tens of hours on your World, Doc, or Scrivener file to apply some crucial edits.

Even a quick second read-through can be enough to spot those little mistakes and inconsistencies that don't let your writing shine as it deserves. And yes, beta readers are a wonderful thing to have as a fanfic (and pro) writer, but not all of us have access to one (or we may be too shy to individually share our stories with people we know).

So, how should we go about this and what can we spot in a 15/20-minute reread?

Any good revision begins with a fresh, impartial eye, meaning: WAIT. Even an hour or two will do. Do not start editing immediately after writing. I know you really want to post your story or start the next section, but trust me, your brain is so synced with what you just wrote that it can recite it like a top-notch Shakespearean actor. Take a break from it, go run some errands, go to the gym, read a book, or even edit a completely different piece. Then, come back to it and wait for the "Oh my, what on Earth was I thinking?" eureka moment to come.

Punctuation matters. It may seem like it doesn't in the grand scheme of things, but it does. Why? Because when we read, even unconsciously, we fall into the flow of the text. As readers, we follow the words to guide us into the scenes they depict, and a misplaced comma or semicolon can disrupt that flow and make us do a double take. It makes the story feel clunky and hard to read, potentially causing readers to DNF. Once the flow is gone, it can be hard to get back into it.

Spelling matters, too. Similar to the point above, spelling mistakes can be harmful to readers' enjoyment of the story. One here and there is not a huge issue, but if you consistently misspell words, the text will feel clunky and hard to get through, especially for non-native speakers. I'd recommend the Merriam-Webster (for US English) or the Cambridge (UK English) dictionaries, they are free, easy to search, and have great thesauruses and writing tips.

Dialogue tags. "He said," "she shouted," "they laughed," etc. They're great until they aren't. While they are good at emphasizing who is speaking, they can become overwhelming for readers if overused. They also risk making the text repetitive and flat. I'll tackle ways to adapt these tags in a later post, but for now, if you think you have too many speech tags in your story, try to highlight which character is talking with their actions and behaviors. Make it clear enough so readers know without the need to have it spelled out for them.

Repeated words VS synonyms fest. As mentioned in the point above, word repetition can make your story feel flat. What do I mean by that? That readers feel as if they are reading a legal document or a tax return where only specific terms can be used. Fiction is magnificent because there are literally billions of words at your disposal across so many languages! If you're brave enough, you can even pull a Tolkien and make up your own (an excellent tool for immersion, especially in fantasy and sci-fi). So, if you spot the same word or character name being used multiple times within 10/15 lines, get rid of it. Either find a suitable synonym or rephrase the sentence so it doesn't include that term anymore. Just be careful not to swing too far to the other end and turn your story into a glorified thesaurus.

These are 5 quick proofreading and editing tips that do not take too long but can elevate your writing to match your amazing ideas!

What do you think? Are you already doing any or all of these? Do you have issues with any of them? I'd love to know your thoughts!

[mookymilksims]

I was accused of being a drama queen and told I should be blocked for starting drama, while the person who said that didn’t even bother to block me themselves.

Then, I started noticing a lot of people who had liked the shady posts about me a month ago suddenly hearting my posts again.

At first, I thought maybe something had happened behind the scenes, causing people to reconsider, even though I’ve been minding my own business and going back to my usual content—without talking about the situation, even privately.

Then, a post I made did pretty well for someone like me, and I saw this narrative being spun around that same time.

I actually planned to spare you all the details because I think this community has a huge misogyny problem that nobody really cares to address, and I wanted the focus to remain on respecting my work, not fueling more drama.

But now, a whole month later, I see the same narrative being pushed again, so let's just clear this up once and for all and move on, yeah?

First of all, this is a bad look. Are you mad because you got blocked? Mad you think I needed you to reblog me immediately? Mad that people took one side of the story but you refuse to share yours because it "doesn’t matter"? Mad that I blocked you before the incident even happened a month ago?

The ccfinds blog in question has never reblogged my work.

For weeks, I tagged them on many of my posts, and they still never reblogged. One of those posts still have the tags on them, as I pointed out over a month ago.

That same blog consistently missed my tags, but never missed the tags of white creators who uploaded the same day as me.

The ccfinds blog has a history of ignoring small creators in general, but especially small creators of color.

It’s funny how they only seem to “find” the tags of small creators of color once those posts have gained enough notes on their own, without any help from the ccfinds blog.

Then, suddenly, they reblog it.

And, suddenly, after I called them out, this blog started reblogging small creators of color a lot faster about a month ago. So much so, it was noticed by the same creators of color this cc finds blog typically ignores. (To make this even clearer: they were suddenly reblogging small creators of color more frequently to make it look like they aren't racist.)

I didn’t even realize this until I asked other small creators of color about it.

This is already KNOWN about you in creator spaces behind the scenes.

So, if you don’t like me, AND despite suddenly reblogging small creators of color (who you typically ignore), you still never reblogged me.

Never. Not once.

After I publicly addressed this, you messaged me claiming you went looking for my tags but couldn’t find them. Well, of course—you couldn’t find them because I had already blocked you.

I only need to be told once that you typically ignore poc. After realizing you were intentionally ignoring me, then poc telling me, you typically ignore them unless their posts do well without you, it's literally all I needed to know.

Let me be clear: I don’t know why you think I should continue tagging you when:

You never reblogged me,

This pattern spanned weeks and several posts,

You were actively reblogging other creators (white creators, to be specific) who uploaded the same day as me.

It’s not about doing it “immediately.” Everyone else I tag gets to it within a week or two, sometimes even days. This was never about timing—it’s the total absence.

The pattern was clear. I noticed it because it was consistent.

I used your tag because it fit my work—it’s an xto3 conversion, and you’re an xto3conversion finds blog, right?

But here’s the thing: other ccfinds blogs? They reblog EVERYONE’S work regardless of popularity. That’s why I respect them the most—they meant it when they said they wanted to support creators.

Your blog doesn’t feel like that. It feels like a table people can’t sit at if the host doesn’t like them. And this isn’t just my experience—other small creators, especially creators of color, have noticed this too.

And as for BelleKenobi... publicly “wondering” what you did wrong, but privately ignoring my message?

A whole month later?

What happened to “touching grass,” sis?

You’re this disgruntled a whole month later?

I directly asked you about it after you made that post—told you to say it with your whole chest—but you ignored it. So why are you acting like you’re still wondering what you did wrong now?

Is this not you ducking me?

You’re wondering. You’re curious. It’s a month later, and you’re still confused. But you had all this time to respond.

Really seems like you’re just acting confused publicly to protect your image.

You see, I cleared you a month ago. I apologized publicly and privately. Then you ran off and made that passive-aggressive post.

Despite knowing you’re still a bully, despite still associating with other bullies in this community, and even after harassing people and laughing about it in a Discord server for everyone to see, I still cleared you from that situation.

Because it was not your blog.

But then you made that shady post, and people saw the real you.

You can’t put that on me because, again, I cleared you from the drama. You inserted yourself back into it when you made that passive-aggressive post.

Even if people didn’t know you to be passive-aggressive or a bully before, they certainly thought so after that post.

You could’ve just kept quiet, or even publicly accepted the apology. Played it off like you were confused—but you messed up your own optics with that post.

Then I wouldn’t have had to mention to everyone that you’ve been a mean girl in this space. You could’ve kept your innocence, but you didn’t.

I was going to let it slide.

I could’ve said, “you’re not the blog, but you’re still a bully, so I don’t care”—but I have something called integrity.

A bully is going to bully, and you would've slipped up anyway.

Everyone would’ve seen it for themselves, whether I said something or not.

Which you did immediately after my apology, by the way.

Now, a whole month later, you're being a hypocrite to the oh-so-kind advice you gave me before?

Chat, is this "touching grass"???

Both of you do not like me. You didn’t before I called this out, you didn’t during, and you don’t now.

So why are you crying about being blocked by someone you don’t like and have never supported?

Does this have anything to do with the fact I’m not canceled? That people didn’t block me in solidarity? That you and all your friends have to like each other's posts now to make it look like you’re still popping? That I still have a YouTube channel and an amazing Discord server? That people still fuck with me? That you no longer have access to me? That I put up a boundary? That I block people who clearly do not like me?

Here’s my advice: block people who don’t like you, instead of searching them up to see if you’re blocked. Then you’ll gain the same peace of mind I have.

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Happy single Awareness day

Maybe a double date with Ruby and Penny plus Jaune and Pyrrha with Blake and Hera spying?

Happy (very late) single awareness day!

Inside a rather nice restaurant up in Atlas, four people just sat down at a table together. The group consisted of three redheads and one blonde, and after they got their drink orders in, they all started conversing amongst themselves.

"Thanks for inviting us out to dinner you guys!"

"Indeed! This is going to be very excellent!"

"No problem. It's our pleasure, Crater Face." Jaune had to dodge a roll being thrown at him after using his nickname for Ruby, and he did! Just not the second one that bounced off his forehead back into the basket on the table.

"Indeed~! We were trying to find somewhere that we could bring Hera as well, but not many places are open to pets here. We honestly could only find reservations for this place anyways, and only if we had a certain number of people.”

"Wait, is that why you asked us to tag along?"

"Well kinda, but it isn't the only reason!”

"We did think to ask you for that reason at first, but then we also thought that it would be much more fun to spend time with friends rather than just be alone all night again. Besides, we haven't really had a chance to see each other for almost three weeks. Catching up with you will be much more enjoyable than just us being by ourselves at such a fancy place."

"Yeah Pyrrha's right, this isn't exactly our usual outing location. I don't normally like to put on a suit."

"No, but I still think you clean up very well, Jaune."

Jaune's cheeks turned the slightest bit pink with her saying that. "Thanks Pyr. You look great in your dress too! S-so Penny! How is Team Ruby's training going up at the Academy?"

Ruby slapped her hands down on the table, but not rattling anything on it. "Hey! Why are you asking her and not me?"

"Because you would try to sugarcoat it."

Ruby sat back and crossed her arms in defiance. "No I wouldn't."

"You did it when you told Yang about our journey to Mistral."

"So you're telling me you wanted me to tell my short temper, over protective big sister Yang about all the things we ran into? All the Grimm, the Nuckelavee, that psycho scorpion guy, uncle Qrow being hurt most of the trip. You think I should have told her about all of that after seeing her for the first time in almost a year?"

...

"She does have a point, Jaune."

"Yeah, I guess she does."

Penny didn't seem to get what they were referring to, but wasn't bothered by it. "Well I think that team RWBY is doing wonderfully in their training! It has been so exciting to see them all fight again after so long!"

"See! That's what I would have said!"

"And Ruby has gotten much better with evolving her semblance! She is no longer accidentally running into walls or dropping people when she tries to carry them with her!"

"Peeenny, you didn't need to tell them that!"

"But they asked."

... ... ...

Blake, the ninja cat faunus that she was, was perfectly hidden in a bush outside the restaurant's window and peering inside, going completely unnoticed. "You know, this is honestly a lot more wholesome than I was expecting."

Hera, who was trying her best to copy her auntie Blake, was also peering into the window to get a look at her mama and papa. However, she unfortunately had her floofy butt sticking out of the back of the bush they were hiding in. Somehow, it didn't give them away. Hera let out a super sneaky growl to agree with her Auntie. "Rrrrrrr."

"Yeah. As long as they're having fun, I suppose that's all that matters. They all deserve to unwind for a bit."

"Rrrorf."