#that her drawings will never live up to the real thing and how pretty they are

[cyberpunk-deadboy]

assorted mizuena doodles ft the vampire au i’ve been thinking about

[alucarddear]

Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺

Alucard N S F W Alphabet*

I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭

P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!

A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.

Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.

Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏

B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.

Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.

He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.

D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.

So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.

E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.

Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?

F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.

For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.

I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.

When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.

J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.

When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”

When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.

There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.

L: Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.

M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.

When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.

When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.

When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.

N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.

He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.

Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.

That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.

P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.

The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!

R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.

As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.

T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.

"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!

Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.

V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.

W: Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.

He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫

X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.

He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.

Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.

He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙

[windvexer]

Theme and Action: a tarot method for brainstorming plots, setting, and characters

I find a lot of story brainstorming spreads to be clunky and rigid, so I did a little experimenting and came up with a method I like a lot. I haven't done a ton of testing yet but I thought I'd share what I have.

Basically, it's a two card draw from a deck split into majors and minors. Each draw always has one major card (theme) and one minor card (action).

When you have a question, like:

What are some ideas for the next scene?

Why would that character behave that way?

What's the defining characteristic of this vampire clan?

What do the people in this society fear most?

Why is this scene dragging?

What does this character need to feel more real?

You would draw one major card and one minor card!

Themes and Action; what it's about vs how it manifests

We could call these cards a bunch of different things depending on exactly how the question is framed, but Themes and Action are good enough.

Basically, the major arcana card gives subtext or context, and the minor arcana card provides specific incidents. Like this!:

"In my vampire setting, what is the most important thing in vampire culture?"

Theme: Death

Action: 10/Pentacles

Interpretation: (Theme) The most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) This has resulted in cultural rituals where death is treated as a sacred adoption or initiation into a new family/estate.

(I really drew this test spread and it really was death lol)

We can swap out the Action card to see a different outcome:

Theme: Death

Action: 5/Swords

Interpretation: (Theme) the most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) the horror of death and loss has never been overcome in this society, and it must be dealt with as an individual - because vampires process the pain of their own deaths by taking it out on each other.

Here's a different example. In an urban fantasy book where a witch solves ghost mysteries, pacing is dragging and we need our next scene to be exciting. But despite a foot chase after a suspected ghost poacher, the scene doesn't feel fast paced or exciting. The question is, "how do we spice this up?"

Theme: Hermit

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) instead of a crowded street, the character will be isolated and without normal support. (Action) she'll be trapped in a closed space with the story's main villain, who most closely connects with the King of Cups

Another swap, this time switching out the theme card:

Theme: Empress

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) the scene feels boring because it's action without development. Show the main character's personal development and give her a 'level up' moment. (Action) have the ghost poacher lead her to a premature showdown with the main villain, whom she faces bravely for the first time.

This is already long so I'm not going to go on and on with examples but so far I've found this method to be pretty versatile.

Try interpreting Theme and Action as literally as you can within the context of the story!

If you're writing a story about a flower princess who sleeps on a dewdrop in the mystical Gnarlwood Forest, the Sun card will mean one thing.

If you're writing a story about vampires, the Sun card probably means something very different.

Major arcanas can be literary themes, like the moon representing deceit within society, but they can also be literal; in a werewolf story, the Moon card might represent the celestial body that controls the lives of certain people.

The most important thing for me is to avoid interpreting the cards in a general self-help sense.

The cheerful villagers of prosperous Splitsky Castle are waiting for you to invent a festival so a mysterious stranger can come to town and get the plot going.

The question is, "what kind of festival gives me the right setup to pull off the plot point I want?"

The theme card is the Magician, so ideas for the festival could be:

A festival honoring magic users (if they exist in your setting)

A festival honoring the resourcefulness of the villagers

A festival of stage magic and trickery

The action card is the 6/Cups.

Probably, the festival is not about healing your inner child with Jungian shadow work. More contextual ideas might include:

A festival where children are chosen to be trained in magic

A festival celebrating teaching the next generation important skills

A festival meant to delight and entertain children with stage magic

Developing related factions or foils

Draw a major arcana card to identify a certain Theme, maybe along the lines of:

What do they hold to be sacred?

What do they not care about, or hate?

What is their most cherished virtue?

What is the defining feature of leadership?

When they sing about home, what is in their songs?

This theme will be the same for both entities.

Draw different minor arcana cards to show how each entity expresses that theme.

Conversely, work in the opposite direction: keep the minor arcana card for both entities, and swap out the theme card.

Finding Action cards when you know the Theme

Holding the deck so that it's facing you, thumb through the cards until you find the major arcana card that describes your theme. The most recent minor arcana card that was on top of it, even if separated by other majors, is the action card.

Reversals

I tend to read both cards as upright and reversed, and just apply whatever meanings are most relevant. In my experiments using reversals ended up being too finicky and specific, and limited my creativity.

Complex Concepts and Plots

For a complex reading, like plotting an entire novel or building an entire character, I have found more utility in doing many pair readings rather than doing one large spread with many pairs.

My tests so far have suggested that the most creative freedom is found in asking specific questions, like "what is this character's driving motivation," and "what is her quirky hobby," and "what makes her put up with her annoying best friend," rather than trying to build a giant spread that includes all of these things at once.

As a caveat, in plot spreads, I will sometimes put pairs down without returning them to the deck, and then connect Theme/Action pairs with single action cards to suggest events that connect the dots.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

erm hey pookie, I have the memory of a goldfish and I can’t remember if I sent the request I wanted to or not so I’m so terribly sorry if I have but I’ve read literally everything in your account today and I’m in love BUT could you maybe possibly do either super fluffy with Javi like at home comforting him after a storm, cooking him a good meal, relaxing and unwinding in like a warm bath, helping take care of him

(and maybe a lil smoochy smooch and grabby hands ending but that’s totally up to you)

hey pookie! here’s your rec! i was thinking of doing this a while ago lol. but thanks for the req!! i love it sm!!

wait this is actually kinda bad guys beware

Twister-Love and Care - Javier ‘Javi’ x F! reader

‘with a storm in my mind, you would understand why

they all name hurricanes after us’

A Potion For Love by AURORA

—

prompt: today’s storm really took it out of Javi, but his girlfriend helps him relax

TW: mentions of storms, thunder, swearing, nightmares, some angst but its a fluff piece!!

The soft pitter-patter of the rain was a relaxing backdrop, contrasting the EF3 storm you two just chased. Javi parked the car in the driveway, ushering you to get inside so you wouldn’t get wet. That was the first thing he said since the chase was over, his eyes trained on the dirt road, darkening with each drop of water. His hands, both of them, gripped the steering wheel when he was driving home, not the usual one-hand-on-the-thigh thing he did, which you could never get enough of.

You flipped the switch to your warm-tinted lights, illuminating the once dark house. Everything looked warm and inviting - you made a rule for ‘no big lights’ in the house - especially if they were cool toned, and Javi thought it was ridiculous at first, but now he can’t imagine their home any different. You kicked off your shoes, hearing Javi do the same behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw his eyes out the window, the rain growing harder.

“What’s on that pretty, disgustingly educated mind of yours?” you chuckled, cupping his face and turning it to face yours.

“Scott’s the disgustingly educated one” Javi chuckled softly, a small smile forming on his face, his concerns momentarily washed away when he saw his girlfriend’s smiling face. “ ‘s just..” his face darkened again, a storm behind his eyes, a shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

“We- that storm. It felt really real. Too real, and-” he hesitated “I just, it’s a lot, I don’t really wanna talk about it”

You nodded, caressing his freckled cheek, his skin glowing in the low, warm light. You can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him, in the dark, not knowing anything about everyone’s conditions. It was only when you and Kate emerged, battered and bloodied from the raging storm, that he knew who lived and who left…

“You don’t have to, baby..” you said softly, your hands snaking to his shoulders, squeezing them softly. Javi leaned his body against yours, closing his eyes. “You’re really tense..” you remarked, kneading his knots in his toned muscles; Javi groaned.

“How about we take the night easy…” you whispered, rubbing his arms. He nodded, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, leaning on him. You laughed, bringing him to the couch.

“What do you want for dinner?” you asked softly snuggling up under his arm against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. One of your hands found his bicep, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

“Anything, really..” Javi sighed, drawing little stars on the skin of your waist. “Something warm…” He nuzzled your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

You smiled, cupping his cheek.

“Why don’t we make a date night out of this? Like a lazy night in?” She smiled up at him, pecking his cheek. Javi opened his eyes, meeting your own.

“That sounds.. amazing. It’s just what I need right now” He sighed softly, pressing a soft peck to your forehead in return.

Smiling, you got off the couch, leaving Javi whining for your warmth. You giggled, moving to the kitchen to see what they have.

“We have… feta cheese, tomatoes, half a zucchini, coleslaw..” You listed off the food in their kitchen, when she had a revelation “How does pasta sound?” She looked over at Javi, who was still on the couch.

“Like heaven” he said “wait, no, that’s you” he smiled tiredly. Even if he was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted, he was still a flirt.

You walked over to the couch, pulling him to his feet and dragged him to the kitchen, which was essentially you silently saying ‘cook with me’. He was used to this, but loved it so, so much.

So you both chopped, diced, stirred, kissed in the kitchen - Javi was helping you with the alfredo sauce, you added some spinach for some iron. Pasta was always fun with you, because you never chose the boring, basic shapes. Who needs penne when you have star shaped tortellini? The farmers market was a wild place for artisan pasta shapes.

They boiled their pasta, Javi stirred the sauce, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, moving in front of him, your body between his and the stove. One of his hands went around your waist, you held the spatula he set aside to wrap his arm around you,and stirred the sauce.

“This is nice..” he murmured into the shell of your ear, nuzzling your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to where your collarbone met your neck. You leaned your head back, to the side, giving him better access with a grin.

Once you set the pasta in the oven to bake, Javi picked you up bridal style, earning a squeal-like laugh from you. He brought you up the stairs and set you down on the bathroom counter, and you smiled.

You pecked his freckled button nose, turning on the hot water in the bathtub, and sat back down on the counter, wrapping your legs around his waist. The water running provided a nice ambience.

“You better hop in with me” Javi murmured, causing you to nod and chuckle as his hands rubbed your sides soothingly, tickling a tad bit.

You both just exchanged chaste kisses until the water was ready. Slowly stripping each other, you both got into the water, Javi settling you in his lap again.

It was this non sexual intimacy you both loved- there’s nothing purer than a bare body, and you both understood that. You relaxed against his chest as you straddled him momentarily, before lifting your head off his shoulder and running a hand through his curls. Meeting his eyes, he pulled you closer to him by bringing you nearer by the waist.

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment- the water still, only the occasional drop falling from the tap to the tub, causing a tiny splash. The silence was comforting to both of your bruised, yet healing souls.

“I’d be lost without you” Javi murmured, his voice holding a passion. “You’re the light in my storm”

You pulled him in for a soft, gentle yet passionate kiss. One that said everything you needed to.

After sitting in the bath for a good 20 minutes, you both got out, shivering slightly as you two reached for the bathrobes.

After you both got out of the water, changing into some bathrobes temporarily. You briefly did your skincare, lathering some moisturizer onto your boyfriend’s face.

Pulling him to your shared bedroom, he let the bathrobe fall to his lower back as he lay down on his stomach, leaving you to straddle him from behind.

You began kneading his knots out, which earned some quiet, satisfied sighs from Javi.

You smiled softly, seeing him go limp just so he could relax and unwind after a very exhausting day.

Once you were done, you lay down on his back and pressed a kiss to his freckled shoulder.

“Come on, dinner’s ready…”

Going downstairs, you spooned the pasta onto two plates, Javi brought the sweet tea out from the fridge, slicing some lemons and dropping them in the glasses full of the amber liquid. Sitting down, you both clinked your forks and started to eat your nourishing meal, warm food sliding down your throat leaving you two with smiles (and some remnants pasta sauce) on your lips.

Once dinner was done, Javi helped you rinse everything and pop it in the dishwasher, turning it on to let it run until it was done. The completists in you two were satisfied - the kitchen looked spotless.

Changing into some actual clothes, you stealing one of Javi’s shirts, you two settled in bed. The covers were warm, having put them in the dryer for a couple of minutes before to make sure they were comfortably toasty.

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed as he got under the covers with you, immediately seeking your body and pulling it closer to his own, strong, defined arms wrapping around your hips and lower back. He pressed a few kisses to your hair and forehead, you doing the same but with his cheeks, and nose.

Your hand ran through his curls, earning a noise of ecstasy from him. He pulled you impossibly closer, causing you to throw a leg over his waist - a casual business.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)” he murmured into your hair.

“Goodnight, Javi” you responded, voice muffled from your head nuzzling his chest “Love you”

“Love you too” he murmured, his voice sounding lazy and sleepy.

And with that, you both were too tired to go onto a conversation like you usually did at night. Instead, you both fell asleep to the soft pitter patter of the rain.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

5k

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story. 

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.  

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone? 

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily. 

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy. 

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy. 

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[loveandleases]

LOOVVVEEDDDD the demo and can't wait for the update! I hope you don't mind that I got two questions, but I gotta ask: what kinda hobby options do you have written down for the MC? Also, how would all the ROs, plus Chris, Jade, and Aunt Em, react if MC's cooking is five-star restaurant levels good? (I imagine Chris is kicking themselves over losing a god-tier-chef MC who cooks as a hobby)

💗 Glad you enjoyed and I don't mind at all! 1. We have writing/reading, art (drawing, painting), gaming/watching anime, cooking, photography, music (could be singing/playing instrument), exercising.

I'm going into it with the thought that depending on the hobby the MC will have the chance to spend time with RO's even in a platonic sense as well as be used to further their business. (For example: an MC who likes to exercise has the chance to run into two RO's. MC who is into art can create a logo for their business) (2 is under the cut due to length)

2. 💩 Chris - Butthurt. Which is what we want! Clarke family curse is that they can't cook right? So Chris before MC relied on fast food or their parents chef. The only real homecooked food they had was from MC or Em when they visited. It's like throwing salt on a wound. Because now they're back to fast food, easy snacks. Because Jade can't cook a damned thing. Chris is pretty sure doggo enjoys watching as Chris mumbles about wanting a hot meal from time to time.

💀 Jade - In her eyes she doesn't have time to waste on things like cooking. Why would she bother when she can just have Chris take her out to some fancy dinner? The only reason MC bothers is because they have nothing else to do obviously. (She's jelly very jealous)

😇 Em - If MC is great at cooking then Em was the one who likely taught them the basics. So for Em, it's like winning a prize. All those little dinners they have Em can have MC help. It's refreshing to be able to have someone else in the kitchen with her, it's something she hasn't had the luxury of in many years. (She's really relieved that MC and Cam won't starve. Cam could screw up warming soup, so for Em it's a blessing.)

❤️ Cam - Oh it's like he won the lottery, and it's Christmas and his birthday all at the same time. Cam is an eater, he loves food. An MC who can keep him fed is like the cherry on top for him. MC would have to tell Cam not to bother them late at night, when he's up all alone on his laptop. He just wants one snack, honest!!! He will use puppy dog eyes, don't let them deter you!

💙 G - To them it's a nice ability to have. In fact, G will be curious as to why they only get cake's on their birthday. Shouldn't they be allowed more? Do they look like someone who doesn't enjoy the delicious taste of dessert? They would want to watch MC cook from time to time, see if they can pick up some of the things they do and surprise them later with a nice home cooked meal.

💚 Kara - Finally, someone who can cook and not kill her! She's thankful all too much, this will be the one time you see her tearing up when she realizes she doesn't have to eat another cold sandwich for work. She would want to help, Kara wants to bake. She wants to be able to make cute cakes and cookies. But, she should never ever be allowed in the kitchen. She's worse than Cam.

💛 M - Won't even notice at first, even when they see MC in their kitchen. They have no idea why MC is in there, M kinda lives off easy food, until their moms send them something. Even then they kind of forget to eat. So imagine their surprise when MC has a five star meal ready for them when they finally look up from their computer. Absolutely flabbergasted. Can MC try and make recipes they've seen in anime? Is it weird for them to ask? Sorry MC, but your cooking expertise is going to be wrote about.

💜 Isaac - They aren't the worst in the kitchen, they can make some delicious stuff but Isaac sticks to what they know. They haven't had someone actually cook for them since their mother died. It would be a bitter topic at first, Isaac not wanting to seem thrilled by the notion. Then they would make the offhanded jokes that MC knows the way to their heart is through their stomach. But they would begin to truly appreciate it, and eventually want MC to try making their mothers signature dish. (The one Isaac makes when they feel lonely.)

🖤 Ardent - As a wiz in the kitchen, don't think that's going to impress him so easily. In fact, don't think that MC can make better baklava than him. It would become a competition, Ardent far too cocky for his own good thinking that there is no way MC can be better in the kitchen than him. When he finds out that he actually enjoys MC's food, he will play it off like he's allowing MC to cook for him. Like he's allowing them to do him a favor. (he will be making moans of how delicious mc's cooking is) play it off like he's sore from working out.

[bunnys-kisses]

virtual - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, the womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business. tags: pwp, cam worker!reader, hair pulling, biting, dark(ish) themes, toji is your number one fan, 3.1k

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Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business.

He loved a cute cam girl on a sketchy website under the username ‘DeerlyDoe’. He had seen your face a few times, but he had always seen your body. And he liked what he saw. He loved a girl with a little meat on her bones who knew how to use those curves.

He wanted to do unsavory things to you, nothing illegal or heinous. He wanted to see what those glossed lips could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did want to make you scream his name.

  “Shit,” He grunted to himself as he pleasured himself in front of his shitty computer. The internet in the hole he lived in was terrible, your perfect body was all pixels but he couldn’t deny the heat in his body from seeing you.

He relaxed in his chair and stroked his cock. he was a quiet tipper, he sent tips anonymously. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, even though the tips were large. The excitement in your voice when you saw the number was enough for him.

Currently you are riding a dildo that you stuck to the tile floor of your kitchen. He watched your body shake with each movement. It made his cock tense in his hand, thick like a pipe and solid like a brick. He groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke himself.

His face felt hot and a bit of drool ran down his chin in his pursuit for pleasure. The pleasure was building up in his gut the closer he came to climax. And he could tell you were getting close as well. He began to edge himself so he could have the pleasure of finishing alongside you. There were many things he’d do in order to see it in real life. To watch your body move before his very eyes.

He heard your moans get higher and before he knew it you were finishing all over the dildo. You soaked the toy in your wetness. The sounds that followed your aching pussy around the dildo brought Toji over the edge.

He created a mess to the front of his sweatpants, but he felt relaxed. He dropped his arms over both sides of the chair and exhaled deeply. “Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

-

Toji never imagined that he’d ever meet you in real life. He knew you were located in Japan, but he ever expected to see you in Shibuya. It was late spring and the rain came down in sheets, but Toji was crawling the streets looking for a way to kill time.

At a crosswalk, he noticed someone beside him. He looked over and saw a familiar sight. Now of someone that he knew, but his little fixation on the internet. His eyes went wide at the sight of you. He was in disbelief at the sight but then he noticed that you were trying to protect yourself from the rain.

Without thinking he tilted his umbrella to cover your head. What he noticed next was how beautiful your eyes looked when you gazed up at him. He never expected to run into someone to beautiful. So how the hell did Toji end up back at your place with you digging through your belongings to find something big enough to change in. He thought it was impossible for you. You were so small, and he was so big. How was he even going to fit in anything you owned?

The DeerlyDoe was in front of him, digging through his expensive wardrobe to find something for him to wear. How endearing. He watched your ass as you were bent over. He even was a little wiggle as you dug further into the wardrobe.

He wondered how expensive your clothes were, and how much would you have lost if he tore the items off of you? The thought made him smirk but he dropped it when you turned around with a simple compression shirt and shorts in hand.

  “That's all I have, it’s from an ex-boyfriend. I’m glad I didn’t throw it out.” You giggled sheepishly.

The idea of you having a boyfriend made his chest freeze. But he composed himself with a cough and replied, “Well, I’m glad you had it. There was no need to do this much for me. Thank you.”

 “You gave up your umbrella and got all wet! How could I not repay you?”

He smiled as gently as he could, “Fair point. But I am still thankful.” He started to strip his clothes off and you observed his partially naked body.

You swallowed and felt heat rise in your cheeks. There was a strange man in your home. You tried to create a little room for him to change, but he kept getting closer. Like he enjoyed your closeness. You felt your heart stammer.

What were you thinking letting this strange man into your home? But those dark eyes and that scar. He was a bad boy, and you had your little fixation of bad boys. You swallowed once more then smiled at him. “I hope it fits.” You said, “You can take it home with you.“

He chuckled softly, ”Actually, I was wondering if I could take you home. I think you'd look good on my bed.“

The blush felt like it reached your scalp as you covered your mouth with your hands. You let out a small 'eep' noise from the embarrassment. Which only in turn made him laugh.

Once he was changed, he went over to you and took your hands away from your mouth. He looked down at you as he held your wrists probably a little tighter than for someone as delicate as you.

  “No one invites strange men into their homes unless they want their ducts clean or their pussy ate.” He grinned at you, enamored by your shyness. It was so much different than the woman in the live streams. But he still loved it.

  “Mister Fushiguro, sir.” You squeaked. He had told you his name when you walked back to your home. He held your wrists to your head to keep you steady, and he leaned in for a solid kiss. Your eyes closed and you felt the hammering in your chest.

By instinct you held onto him as you leaned up to meet his kiss more. The shirt felt familiar, but the muscles underneath did not. You gasped into the kiss as he cradled the back of your head.

When he pulled away you asked, “Is it too late to ask you to clean my ducts?” You giggled nervously.

He ran a thumb across your bottom lip to see if the lip gloss stayed on. He replied, “Interesting.“

  ”What do you mean?“ You asked curiously.

  ”Don't worry. As much as I love the clothes you've given to me. I think it's best if I take them off. How does that sound?“

You looked into those dark eyes and nodded, anything for him. You saw him smile, it almost looked terrifying, like you were the prey and he was the predator. He kissed your lips once more before he started to take off the clothes you lent him.

Your heart raced at the idea of being intimate with this man. It had been so long since you had actual sex with someone. Usually you did things alone in your tiny apartment. But here was a man, a very handsome man, taking off his clothes in front of you.

The sight of his muscles as he took off the already tight shirt made you gasp. He was perfection, he wa danger, he made your head spin. It wasn't until his hands were back on you that you realized that maybe you should get undressed as well.

You felt heat in your body as you removed your sundress and left you bare in a simple bra and underwear. Your breathing was growing rapid as the heat in the main room grew warmer. You whispered, “I'm sorry if I don't look very good.“ You crossed your arms self consciously.

He pulled your arms away from you and held both wrists in one hand. He leaned in and tucked hair behind your ear, “I don't want to hear you say that ever again. If I didn't want a taste of that pussy, then I wouldn't be here now. I want you to be a good girl for me.” His breath was hot and left tingles down your spine.

He told you to leave him in the bedroom and you did as you were told. Afterall you were a good girl.

You couldn't believe what was going on, but a curious part of you went along with it. You were used to performing in front of a camera, but to have the real thing sent excitement through you. You blushed as you opened the bedroom door and Toji pressed his front against your back.

  “You want me to touch you?” He asked seductively.

You nodded, “Please, sir.” Then moaned when he started to feel up your breasts. You held onto his strong forearms, you could barely get your hands around them. You could feel his erection against your back, which made you grow even more flustered.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You know, I watch you perform almost every night. You help me relax, I always wondered what that pussy tasted like.”

  “You mean-”

  “Yeah, DeerlyDoe. I know that your pussy can take a beating.” He smirked into your ear before he bit your neck. He played with your nipples over your bra, “I've had my fantasies about you, what I'd do to you. Do you think tonight we can try some of them out?”

  “I've never had sex a fan before.“ You admitted.

He chuckled, ”Don't worry, I'll go easy. Maybe you'll like it so much that you'll never even think about having sex with a fan again.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to touch you. His grip was rough as he played with your breasts.

You took off the underwear you wore and got onto the bed. You laid out for him to see every curve of your body. You watched him lick his lips as rain battered your window. Your nipples were hard from his teasing and between your legs was slick from the arousal.

He smirked once more, ”What a sight. A proper whore, ready to accept any cock she's given.“ He watched you grow flustered once more and he approached the bed. His hard cock bobbed with every step, ”I hope you know, I like it bare. I think you can tell, no condoms fit me.“

You swallowed and nodded. You watched him get into bed and you felt his length graze your thigh as he got closer. Your body felt electric and hot. Your heart was racing. You weren't too sure how it was all going to fit inside of you, but you had to try. Your core throbbed for the feeling of it inside of you.

  ”Dirty girl.” He remarked as he kissed your neck. His teeth dug into your skin, hard enough to leave an indent. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. He groaned against you, you felt amazing. He could feel the sweat on his back as he pinned you down to the bed.

  “Please, sir. Fushiguro, sir.“ You whimpered like a puppy which only aroused him further. His cock moved against your thigh once more and he caught a hint of how wet you were between your legs.

He groaned, the time for foreplay was over. He kept your arms pinned above your head with one large hand and your legs tightly locked around his waist. He gazed down at you with lust marking his face. With his free hand he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. He felt the stretch of your sex and he groaned.

You on the other hand were tense and it ached. You couldn't grip onto the bed for support. Your back arched but he kept you pinned down to the bed. Your heart raced as he sank himself inside of you. It was a tad painful, but it felt so good.

  ”Good girl.“ He groaned, he could've climaxed so easily but he edged himself not to. With one hand on your hip and the other holding you down, he began to thrust his hips. His cock pushed further inside of you and you moaned so loudly. Your noises made a shiver run up his spine to ecstasy.

  ”Please, sir.”

  “I know you can take it, I've seen you take more than this.” He growled. He recalled every dildo and toy you ever used on yourself. You once told the stream you liked the pain. He watched you moaning as you gasped loudly.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the two on you fucked on the bed. The bed creaked from the movements and eventually Toji sloppily made out with you to shut you up. You felt the pleasure and the pain mix together in a way that left you speechless. You tightened your legs around the other man and tried to meet his pace.

Your heart raced and when he parted the kiss you said, “Fushiguro, ah, please.”

He smirked down at you, and your eyes gazed upon the scar on his lip. Part of you wanted to lick it, but he kept you pinned to the bed. You whimpered loudly some more and Toji let go of your hands but found his large, calloused hand in your hair. He yanked on the  strands to pull you up towards him.

He held your hair in his hand as he bit your bottom lip and kissed you. You whined into the kiss from the subtle pain across your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped you back on the bed and leaned back a little to get a better angle of his thrusts.

You saw stars as his cock hit every sweet spot inside of you. It felt like his cock was in the back of your throat the way he was moving inside of you. The sheer size took the wind out of you with each powerful thrust. You were becoming addicted to his feelings for him. It was arousing.

 “Good girl.” He said with a low growl to his voice.

You were sweaty all over as your body moved up and down on the bed. You gasped loudly as his cock bulled your cervix, it was so different when it was a real person rather than a toy. You managed to get  a hold of the covers under you and anchored yourself as his thrusts got more aggressive.

He groaned against you as he continued to move his body. His thrusts became erratic in a pursuit for climax. You gasped, moaned and whimpered which only encouraged him. His body throbbed with a need for release. This felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of pussy.

He could tell why you were so good at what you did. His breathing was rapid as he held onto your hips with both hands and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. Sweat dripped from his hair down his back muscles.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, right now was just the taster. He licked his lips with want as he watched your heavy breathing. You were a total slut, you loved anything that would stuff those holes of yours.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark you. To make you his. He'd let you do your shows but maybe his name tattooed on your thigh would be a reminder to your viewers that you were a taken woman. The thought made his cock throb. Maybe he could convince you of that. But first he'd have to break your brain while fucking it out of your skull.

He hunched over and dug his hands into the bed under you. He growled as he felt the pleasure race through his body. This felt good, you felt good. His muscles moved with each thrust of his hips. He knew he was getting close.

As were you.

The sex was rough, extreme to an extent. But you were both lost in the vastness of pleasure that you two kept going. You reached out for him and made out with him once more. He groaned into the kiss and put one hand in your hair again.

He pulled on it and you groaned into the kiss. Your pussy clenched around him and he made a noise that came from deep inside of him. That felt good.

The best continued to creak as the two of you fucked like two horny animals. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and you knew that you were both going to orgasm soon. You pulled away from the kiss and panted wildly.  

  “You're so good.' He grumbled, “Such a good hole to fuck. I might have to keep you to myself. See what else those hips can do. I'll need a good fuck after the work I do.” He grabbed your breasts so tightly that you knew they were going to put purple bruises come morning.

You whined and arched your pain from the pain, but yet it still made you core throb for him. With another heavy thrust you came all over his cock, you coated it in your wetness. You let out a high-pitched moan that was more erotic than anything that he ever saw online.

You went laxed on the bed but still held onto the sheets as you let Toji use your body to achieve his own orgasm. The bed continued to move, with it hitting the wall. Your breathing was heavy and your mind felt hazy.

With a few more thrusts into your tight cunt. he finished inside of you. He groaned as he did so before he leaned forward once more and gave you a searing kiss. You two made out with his softening cock still inside of you as the both of you came down from your orgasms.

  “Sir.”

  “Good girl, I hope you're ready for more because I'm not done with you. Now be a good girl and get on all fours for me. I want to see what ass.” He groaned against you before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

You knew that you'd be seeing a lot of Toji Fushiguro after this, he may have been a fan but now he's making you feel really good and not from high donations.

[dunmeshistash]

in regards to skin tone variation in DM, i do think a lot of it is colorism/racism too. theres a few characters of color, but not many (just like how theres some fatter characters, but none of them are main characters (even senshi & other dwarves arent really depicted as fat)).

ryoko kui has surface representation for these people, but it lacks much substance, and the brown characters she does draw arent given brown facial features, and are almost always colored with very ashy skin. a lot of them just look like a recolored white person (especially cithis, kaka, & kiki). her random portraits of characters who dont actually appear in the series otherwise tend to be much better about this, but the actual characters that show up and play a part all seem to suffer from this issue.

im not saying kui is like, super-duper racist and we all need to stop reading DM etc etc, but i think its important to recognize and point out everyday/usually-overlooked colorism & racism when we see it, and i know im not the first or only person to point this out about her character designs. if she can draw fat people and actual brown people as part of the portraits, why cant she or wont she do the same for any of the featured characters in the series?

(i know the orcs are fat, but its not a good thing the only consistently fat people are the ones who are a fantasy race based off of violent racial stereotypes, who are also pig people, while none of the main cast of "real" humans are fat except *maybe* the dwarves, who still have small waists and flat stomachs, and the lord of the island, who is depicted as corrupt & decadent)

Well yeah.

I'm just a lore blog so I don't like to get too into real life issues or make assumptions about how the author feels about these subjects. What I talked about on the skin tone post was assumptions as to why she thought it would be important to show skin tone variations on certain races as a character design choice. (In the sense that her character design is very purposeful)

I realize some people over praise Kui's designs when most of it is pretty safe for what it is, but even if it's just a step closer to better representation it's something that's rare to see in anime. So I understand why some people get so excited about it.

It is important to realize this isn't the ideal either (Dark skinned characters with the same features as the others, mostly well build characters on the thinner side) but I personally don't like to criticize these type of stories on what it "could/should have been".

As someone who is fat and not white, I'm happy we get some diversity in dungeon meshi. I hope this opens up the possibility of better character design in the future even if what we got now wasn't perfect.

It shouldn't be the case that this piece of art filled me with so much joy I teared up cause I had never seen someone with a similar body to mine drawn with so much respect and objectivity. But unfortunately that's the world we live in and I don't think it's wrong to be happy for what we get for now while acknowledging it's not perfect and that it should be better.

I'm also super happy the anime chose to make the dark characters even darker.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

hello! i’m love your post and arts so much! I look at your posts after a hard day and my mood immediately changes to excellent. can I ask a couple of questions?

which pairing with Ethan do you prefer?

and… can we get to know you better? a little biography?

Thank you for your time! I'll be waiting for new arts! (sorry if i made mistakes, my english is not so good. im russian)

i like basically every ship with ethan! it mostly depends on the mood im in, but if im being honest, mithan, winterfield, and wintersberg gets frustrating to think about because they all dont treat ethan well canonically... lethan is fun because they have never met and i can make my own assumptions!

i used to like wintersberg the most and i still do like it, i just have expanded my horizons to other ships as well...., its mostly like a punchline to me though. they have the funniest potential which is why a majority of their posts is just joke comics. i do not like how people try to erase how karl is arrogant and egotistical tho. thats like removing the flavor.... the way karl acts is just very funny to me, hes so lame in a good way and i like how everytime he talks to ethan it sounds like hes twirling his hair and kicking his feet. canonically speaking, karl was very much in the wrong for trying to use rose and not elaborating and i will die on this hill. ethan is not in the wrong for being disgusted and angry that karl would ever try and propose that in the deal. karl is very arrogant so when ethan says no to him it makes him mad and he tries to use fear to get ethan to take his deal (kicking his chair and warning him) i like karl, i like how messed up and arrogant he is but i dislike how people try to portray him as a nice guy. however, in a AU where everythings the same except he doesnt try to use rose i do enjoy the dynamic they could have, especially if the teamed up (not with the deal where they use rose. ethan wouldnt agree unless karl never involved rose in the first place). karl is just a very entertaining character and i like him a lot, hes funny and his personality can be extremely hilarious

mia and ethan is pretty tragic and thinking about it too much makes me a bit sad, imo in a reality where ethan survives re8, he needs to divorce mia. im not saying ethan needs to hate mia and never talk to her again i just dont think they should be so intimate together because of her behavior... please do not take this as anti mia. they loved each other dearly but it wasnt healthy. their relationship was kept afloat by lies and mia doesnt change even though she deals with the consequences of her own actions in re7. she actively tries to hide her past from ethan and is mostly focused on trying to move on and have a normal life even if ethan will have to live the rest of his life in the dark.

she loves her family so much, shes very afraid of them leaving her so she hides all the bad things in the hopes that they wont leave. its selfish, its human, its real, her character is so amazing and i love her. she doesnt learn from re7 and hides important information from ethan again. i geniunly think they should have gotten divorced after re8 if ethan had survived. its tragic and its sad but they love each other so much. it sad because they both geniunly love rose so much but they themselves shouldnt be together. its just sad to think about it. whenever i draw them it usually takes place before re7. they should have divorced on good terms and shared custody of rose.........

ethan and chris is also frustrating to think about... chris is a major jerk in re8, whenever i draw it, its under a unspoken AU that chris did not behave the way he did in re8. his weird behavior in re8 is probably for a meta reason imo. capcom wanted to set up a twist villian so they make chris very vague and unesscarily cruel. while its frustrating that they turned chris into a jerk for the sake of a twist, it still happens in canon and i will forever roll my eyes whenever i see him on screen. he did what he thought was best but imo, execution matters more than the intentions. same applies to mia. they both did things that hurt ethan because they thought it would be the best but in the end they just hurt ethan.

all the ships ive discussed with people ethan has met canonically just makes it look like i dont even like the ships... LOL ... ethan just has horrible luck with the people he meets i guess... but i do enjoy the ships and drawing them, but again all of them come with the canon baggage that ends up making me sad because everyone treats ethan poorly whether they had good intentions or not

which is why leon and ethan is the most fun to draw without getting stressed... LOL... they have never met but just drawing what i think their dynamic would be like is very fun.

please dont take this post personally, this isnt a post declaring why ur fave ship sucks, this is just my own personal preferences and in the end i draw all of them anyways

if i had to rank the ships based on drawing silly comics it would be

wintersberg

mithan

lethan

winterfield

wintersberg has the funniest potential just because of karl and mithan can be funny if u water it down to "i love my wife so much" and said wife comes home with suspicious amounts of hard cash

i enjoy making joke comics far to much

if i were to rank the ships based on how healthy they would actually be for ethan it would be

lethan

winterfield, mithan, wintersberg (no particular order)

sorry 😭

leon and ethan have literally never met but imo it would still be the healthiest because ethan gets to start new

the three other ships r all unhealthy in some way, at least canonically without changing much about the characters (i do like winterfield but just because of how chris behaved in re8 it knocked them down)

i cant even rank them on personal preference because my opinion changes so often 😭 it changes based on discussions i have with my friends or recent art i see that inspires me... me and my friends recently had a discussion about mia and ethans relationship which made me very frustrated and sad with mia so i defiently wouldnt be drawing them anytime soon... meanwhile i hvae been talking to a friend who really likes winterfield often so the conversations we have give me art ideas and i end up drawing it more. if a friend of mine really enjoyed wintersberg or lethan and talked to me about it often id probably start drawing it more, the joys of being a multishipper

it changes a lot based on how im feeling and if im in the mood to draw something funny or something serious

sorry u asked a really simple question and i responded with a essay

and a little bit about myself is that i go by crumb, i am 18 and i go by all pronouns and prefer it/its

im vietnamese and live in texas

i made this tumblr acc solely so i could post my ethan art and im a re7/re8 girly so if ur here waiting for me to draw the re1-re6 characters im sorry u should probably expect nothing

i also make personal animations sometimes which u can find here

thanks for the ask and sorry for the rant!

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

Can you do Octavia/Loona/Veroskia x male reader who is a living human that met the denizen of hell when both were small kids somehow and figured out a way to keep in touch with said friendship evolving into romance as the two got older? Thoughts on how others might react to learning of this?

"Childhood Friends" ; Loona, Octavia Ars Goetia, Verosika Mayday

You met through one of her old owners. And "owners" is the correct statement here, because Loona was nothing more than a pet to them.

Of course, they didn't introduce her like that. But since her previous owners were a pair of succubi, they were able to go to earth. They brought her on their honeymoon, where Loona was able to meet you. Her owners introduced themselves to your family as her mothers in the hopes of not drawing suspicion of abuse (because it's pretty frowned upon to treat your "child" like an animal, after all).

Loona was really aggressive and hostile at first, not allowing you to get close to her, touch her, or even look at her for too long. But you were little, and were easy to distract from her blatant rejection of your friendship.

She slowly began coming around more, though, over the week that her owners remained on their vacation. She started confiding in you. And since she was just a kid, she had no concept of keeping secrets. So she basically spilled her guts, about being a Hellhound from Hell, considered her "mothers'" pet, the fact that she never had a real family, and everything.

And when you hugged her, she was... heartbreakingly confused?

"S-S/O... What's this? This... thing you're doing."

After that, you lost contact. But she never forgot you. Her first friend.

A few years later, she was adopted by Blitzø, who loved her like a father rather than a pet. She was finally valued as a person, and not someone's possession.

But she had one request.

"There's this... human that I knew. He was my first friend. You can come or not, but I have to go see him. At least once."

And so she does. Loona comes to see you, using her adept sniffer to find you in the madness that is Earth. She of course takes on her human disguise for the first time since her previous owners, and she was amazed you even recognized her.

"Loona?! Is that you? What... What are you doing here?"

"Long story short, a lot has happened and sorry I didn't visit sooner. I'll explain everything, I promise. God, S/O, I missed you so fucking much."

And so she did. She explained everything that happened, and later on, she introduced you to Blitzø. It was odd, she introduced you as though you were her boyfriend...

Blitzø could see the feelings brewing in Loona, but you seemed like a stand-up guy and you made and excellent first impression on him, so he didn't mind that much. Even though he was still a tad overprotective of her.

It didn't even take long for you to start dating. You saw her for Vortex, she... isn't the most subtle.

The only difference is she's more protective and aggressive over you. You're a human after all, you could get hurt!

She loves you so much, and she's so grateful that her boyfriend was her very first friend. :)

Same with Loona, you probably met Octavia during some kind of vacation that her family went on, where she was stuck on her father's side like glue.

She seemed really timid around you at first, this being her first experience in the human world and the first time she's stuck around humans who don't understand her.

But you were just so friendly, and so persistent. She couldn't resist getting close to you, and even looking up to you at some points.

And honestly? It was a welcome distraction from her parents when her mom clearly hated her dad. You wouldn't believe how beyond grateful both Stolas and Stella were for your involvement in Octavia's life to distract her.

And throughout the years, because of her parents' appreciation of you for distracting their daughter during their fights, they'd help her keep in contact with you.

You two essentially grow up together. Sleepovers, playdates, the works. And eventually, that turns into casual hangouts, discovering hobbies together, and eventually, even mutual crushing.

Now, obviously, she's an angsty emo teenager, and doesn't know how to sort out these feelings. So who does she go to? Honestly, probably the worst person for that: you.

"S/O? What does love feel like?"

Cue a very awkward explanation trying to explain to your crush what a crush feels like... thinking she's referring to another guy, no less! So the heartbreak was also present.

Fortunately for you, it was very momentary and fleeting.

"I see... And what if I had... a crush... on you?"

"Via? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She's as shy as they come, and very nervously nods, fearing the harsh rejection and the end of your friendship that seemed inevitable. She couldn't have been more shocked than when you said those words she wanted to hear...

"I feel the same, Via."

"Really? Then... would you... maybe... want to... try going steady?"

You snorted out a little laugh, tilting your head.

"'Going steady'? What are you, ninety?"

Of course, you were only teasing, and she momentarily pouted at you before you finally gave in, taking both of her hands in yours.

"I'd love to go out with you. Just convince your mom not to kill me when she finds out you're dating me."

She let out a hoot-like laugh and nodded.

"I promise I will."

You were her absolute everything, and she was so happy she finally got to be with you. :)

Okay, so headcanon that Verosika's childhood wasn't the nicest. Not necessarily awful, but she never really felt wanted by anyone.

That all changed when she met you, though! As little three-year-olds, and her parents living on earth for a few months out of the year, she became immediately attached to you, clinging to your affection like she thought it'd leave if she ever let go of you.

She's clingy to a fault, always wanting to hug you and hold your hand and play those "physical" games (tag, leap frog, etc.). Sometimes, though, she'd sucker you into playing dolls with her. But hey, at least she (usually) let you be Ken. And have a personality.

"Hey! S/O! Let's play! I wanna be Nicky, but you can be Ken! :D"

She was so adorable and sweet, how could you possibly resist?

She maintained close contact with you, and her parents really didn't mind that she sometimes went off on her own to spend time with you.

You were there when her career began taking off and when she began getting famous, even to the extent of tabloids discussing rumors that you were an item. You weren't, though, although you started crushing on her near the beginning of her idol career.

So the tabloids made you uncomfortable in a... strange way. You didn't want her knowing how much you loved her, especially considering she was already with some imp guy...

...and then he broke her heart.

You consoled her, held her, reminded her how perfect and amazing she was, and how she didn't need someone who never saw her value the way it should be.

In this moment, she realized how amazing you were to her. You were always there when she needed you, you were never mocking or cruel with her, you never made her feel unwelcome or unloved... You were an amazing guy.

But you didn't think of it the same way. You didn't want to confess under the precipice of her possibly thinking you were glad to see her get her heart broken just so you could virtue signal about how much you loved her.

It wasn't instant, but that night, she began to develop her own feelings for you.

A few months later, she was head over heels, the same way you were. She was mean and catty with a lot of people, but oh, not with you. She adored you.

You'd already be close with her posse, but they set you two up, convincing Verosika to tell you the way she feels.

"Heya. So, like... I kind of like you, and all, but if you don't feel the same, totally fine. I don't mind."

A lot more chill when she isn't actively plotting against someone, actually. And of course, you accepted her confession that you thought would never happen.

And so, in the end, the tabloids were proven right... eventually. :)

Until then... she's content to keep your relationship a secret for now. ;)

[wrens-writings]

The Monster’s Gone

: ̗̀➛ Percy Jackson x platonic! child of Poseidon! reader

: ̗̀➛ in which big brother Percy saves the day

: ̗̀➛ oh gods, folks. here it is! my first piece of writing posted to tumblr. i have absolutely zero clue about what it is that i’m doing, but here we go!

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: bad writing (probably), allusions to angst. i don’t think anything else? lmk if i missed anything 🫶

percy adores being a big brother. someone that only he gets to pick on? that’s a bonus, yea, but the real reason he loves it? watching his little siblings grow up and experience the things their lives would offer.

with tyson, percy was his friend before he was his brother, but he still helps him to understand the world above the sea when applicable. tyson is like an overgrown puppy, a comparison that many people, including sally jackson herself, have pointed out.

and then of course, there’s sweet little estelle, who has her whole life ahead of her that percy just cannot wait to be a part of.

but then comes the outlier. you. don’t get him wrong! he loves you as much as he does all of his siblings. but you’re so traumatized that he just… doesn’t know what to do with you?

when he got to camp for the summer, excited and eager for a killer two and a half months with his girlfriend and his best friends, he was taken aback. normally, himself and tyson were the only two to be in poseidons cabin. yet there you were, a small 11 year old wringing their hands together in cabin 3.

percy had looked at you, eyes wide and full of confusion. “annabeth.” he murmured to the pretty blonde who stood beside him.

“yes, percy?” she responded carefully, seemingly already knowing what he was going to say next.

percy turned to his girlfriend, his face twisted with conflicting emotions. “why is there a child in my cabin and where did they come from?”

and thus begins the summer of percy jackson awkwardly tiptoeing around his new sibling. annabeth had explained to him that the poor kid was chucked into the foster system at a young age, forced to be exposed to more horrors than he would’ve liked for a sibling of his. but with those horrors, came a small issue.

how was he meant to get to know you if you were scared of your own shadow from the trauma you experienced? he knows firsthand just how terrifying this world can get. hades, he fought the chimera when he was just a year older than you and would’ve died if it weren’t for poseidon himself!

it isn’t all bad though. percy knows a handful of things about you. he knows that you like the beach (which, hey, so does he!), he knows that you like spicy food, reading, drawing, and he knows that you’ll probably shit bricks when you inevitably encounter your first monster.

the poor boy has this innate desire to protect you in the way you’ve never been protected before, but he’s so afraid to make you upset or uncomfortable. he’s stuck at a crossroads. so, what does he do?

wallows in his own mind because adhd is a bitch! eventually, despite his whining and complaining at the idea of hurting you, annabeth and grover manage to talk some sense into him.

“guys, i- i don’t know. they’re so young and so scared of everything. how would i even-“

“percy!” grover cuts him off, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. “think of it from y/n’s perspective. they show up after getting exposed to a world they are actually so scared of, and the only thing that makes them feel better is the promise of a big brother.”

percy sits in silence, his ears burning red with shame. annabeth puts her hand on his arm softly with a kinder approach. “just go talk to them. i promise they won’t bite you.” she reassures him. ever the daughter of wisdom, that one.

percy nods and stands up, intent on finding his new sibling, wanting to put them at ease, even just a little bit. he sets off, initially heading towards the beach.

when he arrives, his lips tug down into a frown. despite the beautiful scenery of camp, especially the view from the beach, you aren’t here. he peers through the pretty, looming trees, trying to catch a glimpse of you. his frown only deepens at the sight of your book bag, but no you. “y/n?” he calls out, his voice laced with fear.

when he gets no response, he scoops up your bag and carries it with him towards cabin 3, figuring you just forgot it like the absent minded kid he hopes you are. except, you aren’t in the cabin either. now he’s starting to worry.

he puts your bag down on your bed neatly before rushing back out. he double checks the beach— nothing. he checks the dining pavilion— also nothing. he looks around the arena, the climbing wall, the archery range, even stopping into the infirmary to see if you’re laying there injured and no one thought to tell him. but he turns pale as a sheet when will solace tells him he hasn’t seen you.

percy runs into the forest, uncapping Riptide as he leaps over a fallen log. of course, you probably just wandered off by accident. after all, why would you leave your book bag at the beach?

a scream that sounds heartbreakingly like you echoes from further in the woods and instantly he heads in that direction. didn’t anyone tell you that the woods are full of monsters?!

he breaks through the trees, slashing his sword clean through a hellhound as it lunges towards you. after a terrifying few moments alone while he secures your safety, percy takes you into his arms.

the hug is tight, protective, full of warmth and love, fear and panic. “shh, i’ve got you…” he whispered in your ear, trying to soothe your fearful blubbering. “the monster’s gone. he’s on the run, and your big brother is here.” he reassures you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

he doesn’t care about the tears that soak his shirt, or even the snot that does the same thing. all he cares about is that you are safe and not injured. he pulls back from the tight hug briefly. “hey, kiddo. you hurt anywhere?” he whispers, his voice strained and fragile.

“n-no. ‘m okay…” you stammer out, your own voice matching his. he kisses your head again, breathing out a sigh of relief. “thank you, percy…” you whisper quietly in his ear. you can’t do much besides whisper at this point, and who is he to judge?

percy squeezes you tighter, his body shaking from the fear of you being hurt “always, kiddo. i’m always gonna be there when you need me. rain or shine, day or night. i’m your big brother. that’s my job.”

soooooo…? gimmie your thoughts, pls!! bare in mind that i’m scared shitless of constructive criticism tho 😭🤚

i’m not the greatest at writing fanfiction but i’m really eager to learn more. your feedback is much appreciated 🫶

[prettyinpwn]

Mabel Pines: How Well Was She Written... Really? (GF Writing Analysis Pt. 3)

GF Writing Analysis Series: Pt. 1 - Ford Pines: A Masterclass in Writing a Good Flawed Character Pt. 2 - How Gravity Falls Could Have Been Better + Poor Ford and Wendy

Like my previous post in my GF Writing Analysis series, I am a bit nervous to post this, to be honest. I love this fandom, but there are two main topics in it that tend to draw the most debate: A. how Gravity Falls ended and its length/pacing, and B. Mabel's writing.

I already tackled the former in my last post, so today, I'm tackling the latter: Mabel. I like to live fandom life on the wild side, what can I say?

Let me preface this post by saying that I am very neutral on Mabel as a fan. I never especially liked her, and I never especially disliked her. It's nothing against Mabel. I'm just personally more drawn to characters like Stan and Ford the most, and if I'm honest, the only reason I'm drawn to Dipper more than Mabel is likely because I relate to him more.

*Gestures at, you know, this blog's over a decade long history of theorycrafting and analyses.*

So... I'm coming at this post with a very neutral eye and an open mind, and like my other analyses, it will be based as much as possible on writing theory I learned in college and over the years in personal study.

But unlike Ford's post, where I already had a viewpoint in mind and wrote it around proving that thesis, Mabel's is going to be more exploratory, and I will reach a conclusion at the end. Is Mabel really that badly written? Is she written pretty well with just some flaws? Or... is she actually a really well-written character and just misunderstood?

Let's discover the answer together.

Mabel's Introduction + Who is She?

I will quote my general method of analyzing character writing from my Ford analysis post to start:

"When I took writing classes in college (and over years of writing in general and drooling over writing advice podcasts and blogs), I found that the best method for me, personally, when it comes to crafting characters is to focus on two major things:

1. Their want.

2. Their need. On the surface, these look like the same things, but in character writing, they can be vastly different. For example, say that you have a character that greatly desires fame and recognition. They want these things.

But what’s the real reason behind it? Is it because they had a parent that was famous and want to live up to their example? Is it because they want to be adored by people? Is it because they were told they’d never amount to anything by someone and want to prove them wrong?

This real reason behind it all is the core need. Yes, they want fame and recognition, but they need it because, say, they have low self-esteem and need copious amounts of outside validation to boost it.

Tied to this need is usually a backstory reason (sometimes called their wound). Say your hypothetical character was bullied a lot as a child. Or abused by a parent. Etc. Whatever the wound was, it caused a big, painful hole in their heart that they try to fill and fix with their want.

So they go on a journey. The want is often the external journey. The need is often the core journey / character arc. Our example character seeks fame and recognition on an external journey, but deep inside, they realize they need something else, which is to understand that their past trauma/wound doesn’t define them, and fame and recognition will not be the balm they expect it will be. Often, they realize they had what they needed all along. They grow past their flaws associated with their seeking this want through understanding and instead pursuing the need."

So... what is Mabel's core want and need as a character? And what's her wound? Who is she? Let's identify these things by looking closely at the very first episode, Tourist Trapped. Tourist Trapped establishes the following things about Mabel:

Optimistic; likes to look on the bright side of things. ("Yay, GRAAAAAASSS!", "Check out all my splinters!").

Go with the flow / easy-going / accepts things at face value. ("Yes, you can keep chewing on my sweater!", learns Norman is a bunch of gnomes and instead of punting them immediately she tries to gently turn them down).

Romance obsessed. No examples needed. *Gestures at whole series.*

Assumes the best in people / accepting of others. (e.g Norman).

Naive / overly trusting (e.g Norman again).

Cares about her family (protecting Dipper).

Clever (ever notice how she tricks the gnomes almost like how Stan tricks Bill near the end of the series?).

(Quick side note because this part always blows my mind: Tourist Trapped is a microcosm of the whole series, by the way. Two siblings get into an argument, one gets swept into the paranormal, and the other saves them from it. The former tricks the paranormal in a clever way to stop the paranormal threat from harming them both, and the two make up at the end and go on more adventures. Sound familiar?)

Back to Mabel, let's identify her core want and need and wound from her character traits. I struggled a long time with identifying this, because Mabel seems like such a laid back character that it's harder to pin these down for her compared to, say, Ford (false validation given to use me vs. honest but selfless love) and Stan (earning worth vs. knowing inherent worth). But I think I pinned it down...

Yins and Yangs

And guess what? Hers and Dipper's wants and needs match Stan and Ford's, but not in the way you think. Dipper has Stan's struggle, and Mabel has Ford's. Just like how Tourist Trapped is a microcosm of the whole series where one twin gets whisked away into the weird (Ford and Mabel) and the other needs to save them from it (Stan and Dipper)... their wants and needs are the same.

Granted, it manifests in different ways. Using Ford as an example, Ford's want is love and acceptance, but in a "praise me and my science and my accomplishments and accept me for who I am" way. Mabel's want is love and acceptance, but in a "must find boyfriend and keep loved ones close" way. Or in another way of explaining it, Ford desires introverted love, and Mabel desires outgoing love; makes sense for their characters. Ford is a Mabel if she were an introvert, and vice versa. Just like how Stan is a Dipper if he were an extrovert, and vice versa.

So... yeah. Ford and Mabel are the same character... sort of. Because as much as Ford pursues the unknown, Mabel pursues love (both romantic and familial). And Stan and Dipper are the twins that chase after them, anchoring them back to reality, sometimes even literally.

And that's where we come to the concept of balance, AKA why the twins are good for each other. You ever notice how the Pines at their worst is always when they're alone? Stan alone is a depressed criminal. Ford alone is both paranoid and naive. Dipper alone is insecure and pessimistic. And Mabel alone is also too trusting like Ford and delusional.

What fixes this? Their twin. Stan with Ford is happy and with purpose again, Ford with Stan is protected (thanks to Stan's people smarts) and grounded, Dipper with Mabel is more confident and optimistic, and Mabel with Dipper is protected (thanks to Dipper's logical smarts) and realistic.

THAT'S why the show had Mabel and Dipper stick together at the end. THAT'S why there was such an emphasis on why Stan and Ford being apart caused so many issues. THAT'S why Dipper chose to stay with Mabel over the apprenticeship. Because time and time again, the show states the thesis that a Pines without their twin is a dysfunctional Pines. Agree with it or not, that's the theme with their characters.

Because - and I say this lovingly - the Pines are kind of stupid at times without their twins. Stan's purposeless and turns to crime, Ford's too naive and trusting, Dipper's too pessimistic, and Mabel's too optimistic. Ford gives Stan purpose, Stan gives Ford some actual common sense, Mabel gives Dipper some needed levity, and... Dipper gives Mabel a reality check (GEE, I WONDER WHY MABEL'S WEIRDMAGEDDON EPISODE WAS CALLED 'ESCAPE FROM REALITY', AND WHY DIPPER WAS THE ONE TO BREAK HER FROM IT? *Cough beats people over the head with a theme but somehow people still didn't get it cough.*).

Sorry, Caps Lock rant aside, honestly, I should just make a chart to explain the Pines. We'll be using four scales: introverted (I) vs. extroverted (E), gravity (G) vs. levity (L), active (A) vs. reactive (R), and book smart (B) vs. people smart (P).

(Yes, we're gonna make our own Gravity Falls Myers-Briggs, because I'm that insane.)

This system also reflects the Pines on a layer level: Stan and Mabel's outside personas (E and P) seem more similar, but their cores are different (GR vs LA); the same goes for Ford and Dipper (shared outside persona of I and B, but different cores of LA and GR).

This is why, in the fandom, we often look superficially at the Pines and say, "Dipper is the Ford twin because smart nerds, and Mabel is the Stan twin because outgoing fun ones". No, my friends: Dipper is the Stan twin, and Mabel is the Ford twin. Dipper is just Stan in a Ford coating, and Mabel is just Ford in a Stan coating.

We'll come back to this later for the next section, but for now, let's focus on answering the main question: is Mabel written badly, or is she written well?

Well... she has core wants (fun and love and escapism and childhood). She has a need (reality and gravity and facing the future). And... well, they never really explored her wound AKA her reason why she desires these things like they did for Stan and Ford.

But... my guess is that reality has often wounded her and popped her bubble in the past (maybe bullying at school, hence her desire to not face growing up alone without Dipper), so she avoids it in order to keep her optimistic fantasy alive to avoid pain. Just like... I dunno... that whole episode that centered around that thing called Mabeland? Metaphors, people.

So so far, Mabel checks the same boxes as my earlier analysis on why Ford is a well-written character:

Want? Check. Need? Check. Realizes she had what she needed all along (Dipper to ground her)? Check. And our last point, I'll refer back to my quote from earlier: "They [well-written character] grow past their flaws associated with their seeking this want through understanding and instead pursuing the need."

Yeah. Mabel has flaws, associated with her pursuing her wants. They manifest in that, yeah, sometimes she's selfish. And that's the flaw most people in the fandom have criticized her for.

But guess what? ALL of the Pines are selfish at times.

Stan? Ford gets captured in Weirdmageddon and Stan - although we get why he's bitter - is reluctant to save him again.

Ford? Ford received a college grant and made no attempts to reach out to Stan who was poor and struggling - although we understand why Ford was bitter, too - and reaches out to Stan not to make amends but to ask him to do him a favor.

Dipper? Probably the least selfish of the Pines, but still... at times he's selfish, too. The Time Traveler's Pig explores this. He repeatedly rewrote the day of the fair because he wanted a chance to be with a girl we know he never would have gotten with anyways. Did he think about what Wendy wanted when he did that? No. Did he think about what Mabel wanted? Well, no, at least until the end, but the moral of that episode is that Dipper learned to sacrifice his selfish want to make someone else happy.

So if people dislike Mabel for being selfish, well... they should dislike all of the Pines, then. And there are times she gives up her wants for Dipper, too, albeit shown less often. She trashes her sock puppet show - her chance at impressing a guy and compromising her core want of love - to save him, inspired by all the times he sacrificed for her. She lets go of a land of perfection and her delusion - albeit one that really wasn't real - to help him fix Weirdmageddon and save Ford.

Because here's the thing: a well-written character has flaws. There'd be no story if they didn't. A character without flaws has no arc and is poorly written. Mabel - just like the other Pines - is flawed and that's great. Because it means... she's well-written. I'll quote my post on Ford again:

"This is why Ford is a well-written character. He has flaws and suffers for them until he makes up for his mistakes. They are understandable flaws, but like in real life, just because it’s understandable why we act poorly at times - be it because of trauma or upbringing - it doesn’t mean we’re justified in continuing to hurt others or ourselves because of those flaws. We must acknowledge them, grow past them, and do our best to do better in the future, as well as apologize to those we hurt along the way."

Just like Ford, Mabel has flaws - albeit understandable ones based on who she is and her history - and she suffers for them. But in Escape From Reality, she acknowledges them, grows past them, and does her best to do better in the future.

As for the other hate on her I've often seen, including the way she gave the Rift over to Blendin/Bill... my friends... she did the same thing Ford did. And the flaw Bill took advantage of to do this was the same flaw she had in Tourist Trapped: her naivety.

Bill: "Hey, naive Pines twin, I have something you want (for summer to never end / validation and knowledge). Just give me something (the Rift / possession and build this portal) and I'll let you have it. I swear I'm innocent and on your side and have your best interests at heart!"

Bill is a master manipulator. So if we don't judge Ford for the way he was manipulated at the age of his late twenties, then why the hell do we as a fandom judge Mabel for falling for the same trick as a 12 year old?

And so we return to Tourist Trapped. Mabel's flaw in that episode was the same as the flaw she had by the end of the series. Drawn into a fantasy, lacking realism and logic about it, sibling saves her, apology to sibling, and working together to fix the mess. The difference is, is scale and stakes, and at the end of the series, it's a permanent change of growth. Mabel learns to accept reality; that life won't always be love and rainbows and sunshine, and that's okay.

I also want to highlight how the Pines' flaws are often their greatest strengths, too. Dipper often pops Mabel's fun bubble with his pessimism and realism; sometimes it rains on her parade, and sometimes it breaks her out of a delusion. And vice versa: Mabel often is too optimistic and naive, and that leads to Dipper having to save her from some manipulations and delusions, but sometimes she's the one who lifts him up when he needs it and he's too pessimistic and insecure. Case in point, Gideon Rises, where Dipper insists he needs Journal 3 after Stan takes it, and Mabel tells him, "You're a hero whether you've got that journal or not.".

And as for the hate on her "holding Dipper back from his apprenticeship", I'll quote this here, said by Mabel after Dipper convinces her to leave Mabeland:

"Hey, Dipper? I appreciate what you said back there, but if you want to take Ford's apprenticeship, I won't get in your way."

She offers him a compromise; she allows him to go for it. Because she learned her lesson of accepting the reality that, sometimes, people grow apart instead of things staying the same forever. She's become selfless. And at that point, it was Dipper's responsibility and choice to take it or not.

So if you're upset that Mabel "held Dipper back", no. She gave him room to leave, and he said no and stayed. If he'd wanted it that badly, he'd have gone for Ford's apprenticeship. And remember the series' thesis on the Pines I stated earlier:

"A Pines without their twin is a dysfunctional Pines. Agree with it or not, that's the theme with their characters."

So... we've now arrived at our conclusion about Mabel's writing based on the points we've explored above:

Once and for all, and I'll bold and make this big to emphasize my point, because I hope it quells some of the Mabel dislike: Mabel is a well-written character. She's flawed, yes, but that's the point. So... Why the Mabel Hate, Then?

There have been some ideas thrown around as to why Mabel has received extra scrutiny compared to the other Pines characters. One theory that's been thrown around is her gender, as she's the only female character of the four Pines, although I would lean towards that this isn't the likely main cause, due to the fact that there are other female characters that are liked in this fandom. Wendy receives little to no hate that I've ever seen (and in fact, I mostly see wishes to have gotten more writing featuring her character). Pacifica is liked, especially when it comes to shipping her with Dipper. So... why Mabel, specifically?

I would argue it's not her gender, specifically, but more her femininity. Mabel is very stereotypically "girly". Wendy is a tomboy, and Pacifica - although "girly" - is more of an aggressive character before her growth. Mabel is feminine and passive. She also is into many stereotypically "girly" things, like romance, knitting, crafts, etc. So people that are uncomfortable with the stereotypically feminine might have a subtle, unconscious "ick" reaction to Mabel for that reason.

And... combine Wendy's tomboy quality and Pacifica's association with a male main character (at least, when shipped with Dipper), well... er... I think that may be one potential reason why Mabel is disliked more. She's A. "girly" and B. she has no inherent "value" to a male character.

Dear God, I feel ick even writing that. But when you think about it... that could be one potential reason why she's the most disliked female character in the series. She's girly and is not a prize to be won to add value to a male's life. I shudder to think that this may be the case in today's world, but that may be the unconscious bias some people might have against her, and instead of realizing that, they blame it on "Mabel's selfish / poorly written".

Or, it could be the expectation that women need to be more selfless than men. Let's take after Ford for a moment and do some science: "The reward and learning systems in our brains work in close cooperation. Empirical studies show that girls are rewarded with praise for prosocial behavior, implying that their reward systems learn to expect a reward for helping behavior instead of selfish behavior. With this in mind, the gender differences that we observed in our studies could best be attributed to the different cultural expectations placed on men and women. This learning account is also supported by findings that indicate significant differences in the sensitivity of the reward system to prosocial and selfish behavior across cultures." (Credit/source).

Translation? In society, we praise women for being selfless, and we praise men for being selfish.

Getting this back to Dipper and Mabel, many have viewed their character conflict as "Dipper's being ambitious, and Mabel's holding him back". And with Dipper being a boy, and Mabel being a girl, fans might judge her overly harshly for her selfishness yet are easy on Stan, Ford, and Dipper for their selfishness because, yes, possibly... gender bias. "Mabel should have been less selfish!", they yell, yet people who criticize this flaw of hers are awfully quiet when it comes to addressing this same flaw in the male Pines.

Another reason why I think this is a strong contender for the most common reason why Mabel is disliked, is because of the parallelism between the two sets of Pines twins. Stan does the same thing as Mabel does: wanting his twin to stay with him, not wanting him to pursue his ambitions, wanting things to always stay the same...

So why do people not criticize Stan for the same thing? Why does he get more sympathy, yet Mabel gets ire? When Stan does it, he's a loving brother who just wants his brother to stay. When Mabel does it, she's "too selfish".

Feminist literary lens aside, sometimes I think Mabel's dislike can also be defense of one Pines twin over the other. I've seen this a lot with Ford and Stan in the fandom, where people vilify Ford yet see Stan as innocent in their squabble, as was common shortly after Ford was revealed at the time of airing.

Added to that was the fact that Ford got less attention from the writers and less time in the show to justify his flaws and understand his character (see my previous Gravity Falls writing analysis here that covers this topic), and, well... of course there's a high likelihood people are going to sympathize with Stan more than Ford. The show gave us more reasons to. But that doesn't mean Ford is inherently more wrong or more flawed than Stan. It's just that... people might like Stan more than Ford, so give him more stink-eye.

So I think the same happens with Mabel and Dipper, although Mabel and Dipper got roughly the same amount of airtime, so that leads me to my next point:

I have a little side theory here I want to test (but I could very likely be wrong) regarding why some characters in Gravity Falls are well-liked by certain people and vice versa, as well as why some characters are more vilified or idolized in this fandom. Let's return to my Pines personality chart:

Please ask yourself these questions honestly:

Who is your favorite Pines?

Who is your least favorite Pines?

Now, write these letters down depending on your answer:

Are you introverted (I) or extroverted (E)?

Are you a realist (G) or an optimist (L)?

Are you someone who goes after what you want (A) or waits for it to come to you (R)?

Are you more book smart (B) or people smart (P)?

Now, create your four letter Pines personality (e.g ILRB).

With your Pines personality, count how many letters you have in common with each character.

Now, answer this: do the Pines you share the most letters with happen to be your favorite Pines, and do the Pines you share the least letters with happen to be your least favorite Pines?

Personally, my favorite is Ford, and my least favorite is Mabel (although like I said earlier, I do not dislike Mabel, I am just neutral at worst with her). My own four letters are ILA/RB, meaning I'm introverted, trend towards optimism/levity, am split on active and reactive, and am more book than people smart.

I share 3-4 letters with Ford, 2-3 with Dipper, 1 letter with Stan, and 1-2 letters with Mabel.

And lo and behold... my favorite Pines is the most like me, and my least favorite Pines is one of two least like me.

So here's my theory as to why there's Mabel hate, since we've already established why Mabel is actually technically written very well: a combination of possible unconscious gender bias and personality matchup. Because if there's one thing us humans are good at it, it's, "Ape like me, me like, but ape less like me? Me throw rock! Insert war/hate/prejudice/online fandom hate, etc here.".

Therefore, in final conclusion: Mabel is well-written, and she's criticized unfairly. Anyone that criticizes her as "too selfish" needs to honestly analyze why they might not apply that same criticism to Stan, Dipper, or Ford.

[physalian]

Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall,  or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”

[dragons-hoard-of-fandoms]

(Murder Drones Episode 8 spoilers!)

Space. The final frontier.

Poor robo-roaches always getting tossed around and killed.

They just left Braiden and Rebecca's corpses there??

Honestly the Teacher is such a mood, I can't believe I never realized it before.

Solvedcalculus reference???

Nori you can't say that this is a Christian Minecraft server.

It's amazing how they're able to make her still convey emotions when she's only got one eye.

YES HE SAVED HER BUT ALSO WOW THAT WAS FAST

Well she did tell you to "Die Mad" about it, so...

Kiss. Kiss! KISS! KISS!! KISS!!! KISS!!!! KISS!!!!!

New cute date idea: Skydiving from space and burning up in the atmosphere together <3

THEY ARE DATING THEY ARE CANONICALLY DATING!!!!!!!!!!

Why no kiss tho :(

Dang it, that was Thad's only good pipe.

V IS ALIVE AND SHE RODE IN ON A SENTINEL I THOUGHT WE WERE JUST JOKING ABOUT THAT

AND IT HAS A LITTLE COWBOY HAT

SHE WAS LIZZY'S SECRET FRIEND AND SHE DID THAT ONE MEME

No!! Bad dingo!!! We do not eat our friends!!!

IT'S DOING THE WALL-E FIRE EXTINGUISHER THING

So did J know the whole time or was she kept in the dark at first and only recently found out? Not entirely clear on that.

You really think it's not gonna dispose of you once all the universe is dead?

V SAID BITE ME

I was fully expecting her to chuck N into the core for a second there. But TBH I don't think continuing to destroy the planet is gonna fix it.

THEY'RE SO CRINGE IN A COOL WAY I LOVE THESE STUPID DORKS

THE CAPTIONS SAY SOLVER CONFIRMED THAT IS NOT CYN

"Okey."

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP

Y'know J thinks pretty highly of herself for someone who's literally never killed a single person on-screen in the entire time that this show has existed.

Huh, I guess those theories about Uzi not having a core icon were wrong.

You get a panic attack! You get a panic attack! EVERYBODY GETS A PANIC ATTACK!

Wait which part of this is the trap?

FREAKIN EXCUSE YOU DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I JUST TOLD NORI THIS IS A CHRISTIAN MINECRAFT SERVER THERE WILL BE NO SWEARING

Uzi is not beating the bisexual allegations.

SHE IS CANONICALLY CRINGE AND FREE

Nori I don't think most people call their daughters "babe."

"...'Kay."

Playing Nightcore during a final battle is the most anime thing ever.

And the J abuse continues.

*teleports behind you* Nothin personnel, kid.

Okay bye J, thanks for literally nothing.

SECRET HANDSHAKE N YOU'RE SUCH A DORK

o7

THEY'RE SO STUPID I LOVE THEM

YOU STOPPED TIME???

SHE LITERALLY ATE A BLACK HOLE???

😦

Thad is confirmed the coolest dude on Copper 9.

Sorry y'all, Khori divorce real.

Man Teacher don't wanna deal with none of this, same TBH.

Everybody gangsta til the cowboy robot dinosaurs start driving buses

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!!!

Nah you're not damaged you're just autistic and edgy.

Polyclue shippers low-key getting fed tho.

HE'S BEING SUPPORTIVE AND TEACHER STILL DON'T WANNA DEAL WITH THIS

HE CALLED HER HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!

My heart goes out to all the Doll fans, y'all got done dirty. 😔

He's learning how to draw anime!!! His art is getting so good!!!

He finally got to play rummy with the WDF!

They're gonna passionately make love on that bed later.

Wow what did Rachel ever do to you. Also who's Rachel.

THE NUZI-VIZZY DOUBLE DATE FEATURING DINGO AS THE FIFTH WHEEL

THAT'S THE REAL CYN YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME THAT ISN'T THE REAL CYN FINALLY FREE OF THE SOLVER AND LIVING IN UZI'S TAIL UNTIL THEY CAN MAKE A NEW BODY FOR HER

IN YOUR FACE EVERYBODY WHO SAID LIAM DOESN'T LIKE HAPPY ENDINGS!!!!

[juyeonszn]

PARTY O’CLOCK

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.39k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, tau beta zeta frat treasurer!chanhee, reader is a stereotypical party girl, she’s also an astronomy major, mentions of alcohol, i’m pretty sure everyone makes a cameo at some point, kevin moon playing matchmaker, we escalate a little fast so, intense making out, marking, vaginal fingering, brat tamer!chanhee, dom!chanhee, lowkey pussy job for like 1 second, nipple play? kinda?, unprotected sex, wall sex, missionary, multiple orgasms, creampie (yk… the usual), overstimulation

SUMMARY in spite of being a frat boy himself, chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? enter you and your carefree spirit and chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

MORE … don’t yell at me PLEASE. i know this is 2 days overdue. I KNOW I KNOW. i’ve been so busy these past couple days and my time management is ass we already know this. BUT IM HERE AND SHES FINISHED AND ITS CHRISTMAS EVE SO??? 🙏🙏😍 anyways. i hope u guys enjoy i had a fun time writing this. i’m a firm believer in dom chanhee 😋 if u liked this pls don’t forget to reblog!

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea

“Who’s that?”

The question comes out before you can even stop it, eyes focused on a guy sitting on one of the couches in the living room, complete disinterest all over his face. He’s pretty. Prettier than any guy you’ve ever seen. But he also looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than at this party.

“Who?” Your friend Heejin asks, following your gaze.

She finds out pretty quickly, especially because of how intense your stare is. She racks her brain for his name, sure it’s somewhere in her catalog of the student body. Heejin was the kind of person who knew everyone even if she didn’t exactly know them personally. She was both sociable and obsessed with gossip, sticking her nose in the business of those around her.

“Ah! That’s Choi Chanhee,” she nods, index finger tapping her chin. “He’s the Tau Beta Zeta treasurer actually. That’s probably why he looks like he wants to kill himself. Dude doesn’t really want to be here, but fraternity brothers are required to attend every party.”

She’s right, it appears, when you see some of the members you do recognize make their way over to bother him. He definitely does not look like the fraternity type, but you guess it also makes sense in a way. Maybe he needed an extracurricular or something that would be nice on his resume.

It’s hard for you to enjoy yourself for the rest of the night, too concentrated on the treasurer who’s lips stay pressed into a frown the entire time. You try to take shots with Heejin, but your eyes gravitate back to the sofa. Ji Changmin and his girlfriend even convinced the two of you to play them in beer pong. (Worst mistake you’ve ever made. You sucked at beer pong.) You finally draw the line at a game of Rage Cage, when you strategically get placed between Lee Juyeon and Heejin, arguably the best drinkers at the function.

Everyone laughs at you when you take a step back and recall your decision to join. And just as you suspected, you end up back in the living room, right where you wanted. Chanhee hasn’t moved from his spot, occasionally taking sips of whatever he’s drinking and scrolling through his phone.

You remember when that was Jacob Bae’s thing to do, and then he went and got himself a girlfriend. Perhaps that’s what Chanhee needed to do. A girlfriend was a little bit of a stretch, but someone to help him loosen up at these things was plausible. Girls weren’t even trying to hit on him left and right like they usually did with the Tau Beta Zeta boys, which was even more surprising considering most of them had their own partners now. Desperation was an ugly look on the university female, you know.

Which is exactly why you don’t make any moves that night.

Initially, you think you’ll wait a week. You happen to see him on campus a few times. The first time is in the library studying with some headphones on, in his element. The second time is in the cafe on campus, again, doing coursework with the intention of being left alone. Then it’s when you’re leaving your Fundamentals of Astronomy lecture, walking to one of his own classes. In your head, you’re being tested, like a dog with a bone being dangled in front of its face. It’s tortuous, wanting to go up to him and introduce yourself, but you don’t do it.

Heejin “drags” you to another TBZ party the following Friday and you put extra effort into your outfit. You walk in with the hopes to sweep him off of his feet, strutting into the fraternity house with a confidence that throws you off. Just when you’re getting ready to walk up to him, Kim Sunwoo intercepts and you backtrack. That ruins any of the lingering self-assurance in your system. So you push things back another week.

The next time you plan on striking, you and Heejin had said you’d meet at the party since she had something to do prior. You arrive at around 11 PM, prepared to shoot your shot and score. The kitchen is the first place you go, concocting yourself a drink that doesn’t get you trashed, but provides enough liquid courage. Then Heejin texts that her project partners wanted to grab food and she wasn’t going to make it. The thought of being alone without moral support effectively kills your mood, so you only stay for another hour or so before leaving.

It’s annoying, really. Every single time you attempt to set your plan into motion, something has to interrupt and mess things up for you.

This is your dilemma for roughly every weekend for a whole month. By the time you know it, it’s midterm season and you’re too stressed out over exams to think about Choi Chanhee. Divine intervention was a crazy concept, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Maybe this was your sign to just call it quits and give up on your weird fantasy of being the girl who charmed him.

“Do you wanna go to the TBZ party Saturday? We can celebrate finishing these stupid fucking exams and just relax for another couple months before we have to worry about finals.” Heejin asks through a mouthful of instant ramyeon. You sigh.

“Sure, whatever.” Your lips purse, pushing around your own food. She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“What the hell happened to you? You were jumping for joy when it came to going to them all semester, but now that I want to get shitfaced, you don’t seem all that excited.” She puts her chopsticks down, narrowing her eyes at you from across the table. You shrug.

“I don’t know,” you rest your cheek on your palm, huffing. “I guess I’m not really in the party mood anymore.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffs. “You’re the girl everyone thinks of when they talk about the typical university party girl. There must be a reason you’re suddenly Miss Debbie Downer.”

You could just tell her the truth, tell her about your delusions and the need to be different. As your roommate and best friend, she wasn’t at liberty to judge you. But this was so unlike you, so you knew she would anyway. It was out of character for you to be this enthralled by a man, let alone a stranger you’ve never spoken a word to. In fact it’s even thrown you for a loop, this mental break giving you clarity about your recent actions.

“That time I asked you who Choi Chanhee was,” you start after some silence. “I thought about going up to him and finding out why he’s so uptight. I sorta wanted to be in a ‘not like other girls’ situation. But whenever I wanted to swoop in, something always interfered. And now I’m just over it.”

“Y/N. You cannot be serious,” Heejin gawks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Chanhee’s very picky about the girls he talks to. I could probably name on a hand the ones who’ve successfully snuck their way into his pants. He has specific taste, too; pretty ones who know when to shut their mouths.”

Your jaw drops, because what the fuck? He’s not a raging virgin with that personality? No wonder there wasn’t a line of single ladies attempting to land in his bed. They all knew they didn’t stand a chance. It kind of encourages you to resume your mission. You were never one to back down from a challenge.

“In that case…” A mischievous glint sparkles in your eye.

“Good god,” she rolls her own. “I’m warning you now, I highly doubt this will end in your favor.”

“You know me, Heejin. I never take no for an answer.”

It’s the day before the party and you’re walking out of your last midterm exam, a new light in your eyes now that you’re somewhat free. You step into the quad with your arms stretched above your head, a yawn pushing through your lips. You were long overdue for a good nap.

“Y/N!”

You whip around to find Kevin Moon from your Music Appreciation class stalking towards you. Part of you wants to pretend you’d never heard him and keep walking, drained of energy after that Intro to Astrophysics exam you’d just taken. Your brain felt like mush at this point. But you were kind, and you would’ve just felt bad about ignoring him anyways.

Kevin catches up to you rather quickly, hands hidden inside of his hoodie pockets. He lets out a sigh, both of you watching the puff of air that forms in front of him. “You’re going to the party tomorrow right?”

“I am…” You furrow your eyebrows, narrowing your eyes skeptically just a bit. “Why?”

“I have a huge favor to ask you.” He clasps his hands together, as if he wasn’t above begging on his hands and knees. You’re confused even further, because what could Kevin Moon possibly want from you?

“Okay… What is it?” The suspicion in your tone is so strong, that there’s no doubt he hasn’t noticed it by now. He holds the heel of his palm to his forehead.

“So, I was supposed to go with my friend Chanhee to try out that new outer space themed coffee place just outside of campus later today, but I got put on alcohol duty and I won’t be able to. I know you’re an Astronomy major so I figured that was something you’d like. Do you think you could go in my place?” He bats his eyelashes at you, like doing puppy dog eyes will convince you. You stare at him blankly. He wants you to do what?!

Meeting Choi Chanhee before the party tomorrow was not in your itinerary. Usually you were decent at adapting to changes in your plans, but this? This was more than just something minor that you could acclimate to. You had to psych yourself for hours in order to execute something of this caliber. Was Kevin Moon trying to send you into cardiac arrest?

“W-Wh— I mean— well—” You fumble over your words— something you never do— and Kevin breaks into a wide grin. You’re not sure if the blush across your face is from the cold weather nipping at it, or the thought of being put between a rock and a hard place.

“Perfect! I owe you one! Meet him in like an hour.” He pats your back like you’re one of the homies, not giving you any room for refutation. You actually feel like throwing up. How were you supposed to just show up without qualms?

Did he really expect you to just do this out of the goodness of your heart? No complaints stacked up to be hurled in his direction? You’d known Kevin Moon since freshman year orientation, but you didn’t think you were close enough for him to throw his dirty work at you. You can’t help but stand there dumbly as he walks away, a pep in his step that nearly has tick marks forming on your temple.

Okay, you know what? This is fine. This was totally fine. All you had to do was sip on some coffee, make some small talk, and then you could be on your way. It wasn’t that hard… was it?

You could throw on an act, pretend like you were one of those pretty girls who knew when to shut their mouths just like Heejin said he was into. You could give him a false glimpse into who you were and he wouldn’t know what you were really thinking of doing. The you of tomorrow would be a complete 180° turn around from the you of today, and Choi Chanhee would be the one groveling at your feet.

As soon as you walk into the cafe, your throat feels narrow, like it was closing in on you. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. It’s not like Chanhee knew you. He couldn’t possibly be aware of your existence, much less of your little fascination with him.

You see him sitting at a table for two, the straw of his drink trapped between his lips. He sips leisurely as he scrolls through his phone, likely waiting on Kevin since you’re sure he left his friend in the dark. You pick at a thread on your sweater as you stop in front of him, raising your hand in an awkward wave. Chanhee glances up, confusion in his features at first and then it morphs into something else.

A laugh has to be held back when he chokes on his drink, slapping a hand over his mouth. He stands up quickly, wiping his palms on his pants.

“Hi,” your voice is small, so far off from your usual boldness. “I’m Y/N. Kevin sent me.”

“Fucking Kevin,” he curses underneath his breath, forcing a smile. “Um, please sit.”

You take the seat across from him, eyes flickering around the coffee shop to absorb your surroundings. It’s pretty, the stars and planets painted all over the walls and ceilings. Even the drinks had celestial themed names. Your friend was right, you would love it here. It was right up your alley.

“I— uh— Kevin had texted me and told me what to order for him, but I’m assuming he meant for you, because he never told me you were uh— that you were coming.” He scratches the back of his neck as a server leaves a drink in front of you.

“He stopped me in the quad after my midterm and asked if I could fill in for him. Something came up apparently.” You explain, humming in appreciation when you taste your coffee. “He remembered that I was an Astronomy major and figured I was his best bet I guess.”

Chanhee purses his lips, it’s almost like he knows something you don’t. He nods slowly. “Yeah… I’m sure that’s why…”

The impromptu formal introduction between you goes on without a hitch. It goes so well, that the time flies faster than you’d hoped it would. You get a tiny peek into Choi Chanhee and his life as the TBZ fraternity treasurer, but it’s not enough to satiate that unbearable curiosity that pricks at you.

Thankfully, you have tomorrow to do exactly that.

Heejin and yourself arrive at the Tau Beta Zeta party that Saturday with a goal in mind; Getting Choi Chanhee into bed with you.

Okay. Maybe that wasn’t actually the main objective, but it was definitely a side quest. What you really wanted to do was get him to let his guard down. Like your friend said previously, you were the stereotypical party girl. Had there been a picture beside the term in a dictionary, your pretty little face would be there, a red solo cup in your hand and all. If he wound up being entranced by your womanly witchery, that was on him.

Just like your first go at wooing him, you decided to pull out all the stops. You’d worn your shortest, tightest fitting dress despite the weather not necessarily permitting it. It was a cute black strapless number that you paired with some long heeled boots and a warm fuzzy jacket. You looked hotter than the sun itself, and deep down you’d feel extremely disappointed if he wasn’t falling to his knees for you by the end of the night.

A sense of déjà vu washes over you the moment you step through the front door into the jam packed fraternity house. The bumping early 2000s music and the thrumming of the bass gave you an adrenaline rush like no other. Nothing could waver your confidence this roundabout. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.

Before you sink your claws into the treasurer, you need to grab yourself a drink. You and Heejin take a shot from one of the various liquor bottles on the counter, serving yourselves each a cup of whatever Jacob Bae threw together for the party. It was kind of funny that the resident bartender for these things wasn’t even a member of the frat. You and your friend cheers to the night ahead of you, manifesting that things go your way.

It’s rather easy to catch his eye even in the bustling crowd of drunk college students, glued in his usual spot on one of the living room sofas. His dark hair falls into his eyes when he glances down at his phone to check the time, almost as if he was counting down the hours, the minutes until this party was over. He brushes it out of his face with his index finger at the same time he raises his cup to his mouth, knocking back the contents with a slight wince.

He espies your presence immediately after that, raking your figure with an unrecognizable look in his gaze. Though you were shivering upon entering the house, your skin felt hot to the touch now, the burning intensity of his stare melting away any nerves that might’ve been lingering. You pull your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it over your forearm as you snake through the bodies sardined between the two of you.

“Hi,” you greet once you’re in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

His lips quirk upwards and he stands so you’re no longer peering down at him. In spite of meeting each other yesterday, he decides to play along. “I’m Chanhee.”

“Well, Chanhee,” you bite your acrylic nail, not bothering to hide the unabashed desire in your expression and drinking in his appearance like a glass of water. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. You looked bored and I was wondering if I could change that. I know how to have a good time.”

Chanhee thinks it’s cute, the amount of effort you’re putting into this little charade. He doesn’t doubt that you knew of his reputation when it came to sleeping with girls. He knows he’s a bit conscientious when it comes to this sort of thing, but that’s only because he doesn’t want to deal with being seen as someone who’s ran-through. (For an example, please see (No) Strings Attached™.)

However, you were different. Chanhee thought you were cute from the very first time he saw you, which happened to be at a Tau Beta Zeta party last semester. He knew you were friends with Kevin, so maybe it was on him for the delay of your union, but he’d grown a little tired of always making the first move. He’s somewhat grateful that you were the type of girl who set her sights on something and never backed down from it. You were headstrong and that was exactly what had him hooked.

Nevertheless, it would be a bit of an issue. The only part of the rumors surrounding the treasurer that was true, was the part about him preferring his partners to be on the quieter side. There was something about them following his every demand, kneeling at his beck and call, that lit a fire underneath him. The mouthier they were, the less he enjoyed himself. But for some reason, he doesn’t think it’ll bother him as much with you. In fact, he thinks he’ll have fun putting you in your place.

“You know, Y/N,” he pushes your hair over your bare shoulder, letting his thumb graze your warm skin with a small but conniving grin. “I’m not too sure you’ll be able to cure this boredom that’s been plaguing me. It depends on what you have in mind.”

You might cry. A strained groan stays stuck in your throat, fighting to inch its way out of you. Fuck this stupid party. Fuck your stupid idea. You had a new mission. You needed him now and you needed him bad.

Your lips are on his in a matter of seconds, rushed and desperate. You don’t have the strength in you to act like you weren’t just about ready to combust. The curve of a smile can be felt through the kiss, his hands coming to rest on your waist and dig into the fabric of your dress. Had this been any other guy, any other day even, you would’ve freaked out over the PDA. Right now, though, you’re too lost in the moment, too absorbed in the high that kissing Choi Chanhee is providing.

His mouth travels along your jaw and neck, finally snapping you back to reality. With shaky breathing and a wavering voice, you step back from him. “Don’t you want— don’t we need some privacy?”

He laughs like he’s on the inside of a joke you’re unaware of. “Oh, so now you care about privacy? You didn’t when you were trying to seduce me ten minutes ago.”

Your cheeks flush impossibly more, cowering into the space where his shoulder meets his collarbone. All that confidence and for what? He really could not wait another second to see you crumble beneath him.

“Too shy for me to fuck you in front of all these people, sweetheart?” He asks in your ear, leaving a gentle kiss on the lobe as he does so.

You’re dizzy, so dizzy you might faint in the middle of this living room. Who would’ve known that such a pretty boy had such a filthy mouth on him? He knows he’s got you right where he wants you when you fist the material of his shirt, the vibrations of a whine on his neck. It’s kind of comical how little it took for you to crack.

He hauls you away to what you assume is his bedroom, fingers caressing the inside of your wrist. You think maybe he’s all talk, that he’s actually a big softie who couldn’t hurt a fly. The way he’s careful with his touch and making sure he doesn’t lose you as you weave through the other party attendees. At least, that’s what you thought.

But then he’s slamming his door shut and pinning you against it face first. His lips return to their prior position, sucking in the plush skin on your throat and your shoulders. You can feel him pressed into your lower back, hard and ready for you. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to it, instead trailing his fingers down your front and sneaking under your dress.

He bunches it up around your hips, middle and ring digits circling your clit through the lace of your panties. Everything is escalating too quickly for you to comprehend. You whimper into the wood of the door, drool beginning to pool in your mouth. You’re so needy that you’re salivating over the prospects of what’s to come.

“Want more, Chanhee,” your words are muffled, but he understands you nonetheless.

“You want more?” He pouts, a false tone of sympathy in his voice. “Poor you, asking for something you can’t even handle.”

You squirm, raising your leg in an attempt to reach a different angle. The pads of his fingers apply an increased pressure on your clit, the friction caused by your underwear skyrocketing your heart rate. You know he can feel the pulse when his lips reconnect to that sensitive area just under your jaw. Your back arches, still craving and yearning for additional touch.

His fingers slip into the waistband of your thong, collecting your arousal and using it as a lubricant to glide through your folds. He thrusts two of them in and out of your entrance, the heel of his palm rubbing up against your clit. You moan, louder this time. His free hand shoves the top of your dress down, groping and kneading your bare breast. You wanted more, he’ll give you more.

You’re a whining, squirrely mess, humping his hand like a bitch in heat. It’s hilarious, really. The way you wanted him begging, but the tables seemed to have turned, flipping it the other way around. He ensures that he leaves his mark on you, biting your skin with the intent to bruise. He doesn’t care if you looked like you were attacked by a vicious animal. If Chanhee was anything, he was possessive, wanting everyone to know what was his and not to get near it lest they wanted to keep their lives. What better way to stake his claim than on your body, where anyone could see?

He senses that you’re close to your release, your walls clenching around his fingers and sucking them in further. Most people would’ve been generous, making your orgasm smooth sailing. But Choi Chanhee was not like most people. That much is obvious when he adds a third finger, restraining himself from groaning at the feeling of your cunt constricting and contracting. The stretch has your stomach tying in knots, each one growing tighter and tighter until they just about untangle altogether.

You cum with a guttural groan, nearly convulsing in his hold, but he keeps you pressed to the surface of the door. He doesn’t stop his motions, fingers curling and uncurling like he was reaching for something inside of you. You push your ass into his crotch, another whine escaping your lips when you feel his cock impressing into it. He bites his tongue to refrain from evoking a sound.

The poised nature of your regular personality makes a comeback, one of your hands cupping the side of his face. You pant as you speak, rasping slightly after all the moaning you just did. “Can you fuck me for real now?”

Chanhee forces your underwear down your legs roughly, kicking them out of the way once they hit the floor. “You’re such a goddamn brat. Nothing is ever enough for you is it?” You can hear rustling behind you, the unbuttoning of pants and the discarding of his shirt. And then you feel him. God, you might die. He’s flush between your lower lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “Gonna have to fuck you until you learn your place, don’t I?”

He squeezes your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, relishing in the adorable pout it forms. All you can do is nod, eyes fluttering shut when he finally slides inside of you. The weight of him sits heavy in your cunt, the singular drive of his hips causing your clit to bump into the door. It sends a rippled shockwave throughout your body, a voluminous moan breaching past your lips. Chanhee rests his forehead on your shoulder, staying still for a moment to gather himself.

It’s not long before he’s pistoning his cock into your pussy like a sword being sheathed and unsheathed. You claw at the wall as a means of grounding yourself, inconsistently paced cries and mewls of pleasure bouncing around the room. He hikes up your leg higher, palming at your tits so he can override your senses any way he can. You’re so lightheaded and tears have begun to spring at the corners of your eyes. It feels too good.

“O-Oh my god, you’re s-so— f-fuck Chanhee,” you babble, gasping for air as he continuously punches it out of you with every inch his cock buries into you.

He’s enjoying himself too much, loving how fucked out you look. He’s reduced you to an incoherent state of being. You curve your back a bit more for him, allowing the depth at which he slips in you to go further.

Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t take much to wind you back up to that summit from previously. You’re on the brink of your second orgasm, your chest heating up and your abdomen contracting. He doesn’t let up, pinching and thumbing at a peaked nipple to egg on your release. This one feels a lot stronger than the first, your knees nearly giving out on you.

“C’mon sweetheart, that’s it,” he coaxes, stroking your hair from your face.

Chanhee fucks you through it, allotting space for you to recover before he’s knocking you onto his bed. He removes your dress entirely and rubs up and down your thighs. The exhaustion is already beginning to settle in, but you realize that he hasn’t finished not once and you’d be hitting your third at this point. You’re overstimulated and your body aches all over, but you push through.

He finds your entrance again, pressing into your cunt with more ease. You whine, smushing your cheek into the mattress. Your toes curl and you fist at the sheets, eyes all but rolling to the back of your head where you see white spots and stars coating your vision. He grips your hips to hold you still, starting to rock back into your pussy with practiced aggression. He’s carnal with his movements, but it’s careful, almost like he doesn’t really want to hurt you.

“It’s too much—“ you interrupt yourself with a wail, the tears from earlier tracking along the sides of your face.

“I’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t I? Thought I was done with you?” He strains, folding over so he can kiss the skin of your collarbone and trail up to your mouth. His lips brush yours when he talks, teasing you as if he hadn’t already fucked you within an inch of your life. “Do you think I’m having fun yet?”

Your cunt sucks him in like a vacuum, your volume rising the closer you get to what you hope is your last orgasm of the night. What you needed was the best sleep ever after this. Your brain can barely form sentences, and you struggle to give him a proper response. “Y-Yes, Cha-Chanhee— oh god— s-so much fun,”

Your breath catches in your throat when that familiar sensation reappears. Chanhee is in his own world, focused on chasing his own release. His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, thrusts becoming deeper and slower. You reach between the two of you to swipe at your clit with your middle and ring fingers, the extra stimulation tipping you over that sweet edge.

Your orgasm crests upon you with so much intensity that you can’t even make a sound. If you do, it’s so far away from you that you don’t hear it. The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls sets Chanhee’s into action, his hips stuttering with a groan that doesn’t meet your ears. He fills you up with enough cum that it begins to spill out of you in spite of his cock still plugged inside your cunt. You both take a moment to recollect your bearings, chests clashing with each rise and fall from your breathing.

After what feels like forever, he pulls out and collapses on the bed beside you, the back of his hand thrown over his forehead.

“Holy shit— I mean— wow I really— I really didn’t think you were so…” You don’t finish your thought, head still stuck on the actions you’d committed prior.

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Chanhee shrugs, sighing dramatically.

“You are not quiet,” you turn your head to give him a pointed look. “But, I’m not complaining. I got my insides rearranged six ways to Sunday. Who’s the real winner here?”

“Me, actually,” he says, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I’ve had the longer crush.”

“Y-You— huh?!” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, comically wide like a deer’s caught in headlights. He laughs at your expression.

“I’ve been wanting to make a move on you since last semester,” he admits. “But I was kinda… discouraged? I guess? I feel like I’m the one who puts in too much effort all the time, with everything that I do. I wanted to see if maybe someone would do the same for me. I’m just lucky that it worked out in my favor.”

Your bottom lip juts out and you flip over to peck the tip of his nose tenderly. “Choi Chanhee, you’re extremely lucky. I almost gave up on you, like, a couple days ago.”

Chanhee’s laughter grows and he kisses you softly. “Well, I’m glad that you didn’t. Now I can take you on a real date to that space cafe. Not one that Kevin forced on us.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smile, cuddling into his side.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[lastoneout]

It's also like super fucking infuriating to see people continue to argue that generative AI is the best way for disabled and/or poor people to make art because like, you know what helps make art more accessible? Giving poor and disabled people money.

Like take me for instance, I'm disabled. I get severe migraines and intense leg/back pain if I sit at my computer for too long, my hEDS makes holding pens and pencils hard, my ADHD makes it hard for me to start certain tasks and/or stop them before I potentially hurt myself, my neck also hurts if I look down too much, my dyslexia AND my ADHD both make it difficult to keep track of a story as I write and use correct spelling and grammar, plus, I need to prioritize taking care of myself and going to appointments and keeping my house clean and that takes up a lot of my free time. All of these things make creating the kind of art I want to create difficult if not occasionally impossible.

So what do you think would solve my problems better? Giving me money so that I can have a drawing tablet and desk chair that won't hurt my neck or back, another tablet + pen and a lap table and comfortable body pillows for drawing in bed, easier transportation to my doctors appointments, effective treatment for my chronic pain and migraines, the ability hire someone to help me keep my house clean, a spelling/grammar checker that isn't complete ass, and a therapist and psychatrist who can help me manage my ADHD better?

Or an AI program that takes my input and spits out a drawing or story made of stolen content glued together that, in the case of the art, I cannot meaningfully edit without starting over, which also destroys the environment in the process?

Seems pretty obvious to me. I don't need AI, I need help to manage the things that are actually stopping me from being able to write and draw.

Or take my mom. She's had severe rhumatoid arthritis since she was a small child, her hands are deformed and she relies on her wheelchair to get around. She doesn't need AI to help her paint, she needs special paint brushes she can actually hold, a table her wheelchair will fit at, and someone to help her with personal hygiene/keep her house clean/take her to doctors appointments so she actually has free time to paint.

Does that poor kid growing up in public housing with parents who are too poor to afford art classes or supplies or to send them to college really need a computer program to draw for them, or do they need support to help them take those classes, buy drawing supplies, and money so they can go to college.

Blind people can paint, deaf musicians exist, people with missing limbs find all sorts of ways to make art, people with parkinson's paint with typewriters, my mother can't hold a normal paintbrush and she makes some of the most beautiful watercolor paintings I've ever seen, Van Gogh had bipolar disorder and only sold like one painting when he was alive, I mean for real how many different artists have you heard of who's biographies start with them being born into poverty?

This is not meant to be inspiration porn, these people are just ones who were able to find ways to make art despite their struggles. They shouldn't have had to struggle at all, but god imagine how many more artisrs and writers we could have had if none of them had to overcome those struggles. It breaks my heart to think of all the wonderful art that never got to exist because no one helped the people who could have made it actually have the time, money, support, and safety they needed to make it. AI would not have saved them because making art isn't the problem, being disadvantaged is the problem. Living in a world that refuses to make room for you is the problem. Being fucking poor is the problem. Humans have always found ways to make art despite huge barriers, the solution isn't a computer that makes art for them, it's SUPPORT AND MONEY SO THEY CAN OVERCOME THOSE BARRIERS AND MAKE THEIR OWN ART.

As a last example: I love watching dancing and I would love to be able to dance, but I'm terrible at it(I got kicked off a dance team for not being able to learn the dance at all despite spending weeks on it, idk my brain wasn't made for dancing) and my disabled body makes it more pain than pleasure if not actively dangerous, anyway. Having a robot dressed to look like me dance next to me while I get to watch would not make me feel like I'm getting to dance. It would actually be extremely fucking demoralizing and frustrating. I would hate that!!

Having an AI spit out a painting or book would not make me feel like I got to paint or write a book. It's a fucking anamatronic doll running on stolen ideas and it will never be the same as getting to actually expirience the joy of creating art first hand. AI is not the solution. Helping people who need it is the solution. And I am CONSTANTLY pissed to think about all the time and money that goes into these fucking AI programs that would be better spent helping disabled and poor people get the help they need so they can make art themselves, all while the people running the nightmare plagiarism pollution machines pretend that their horrible inventions exist to help people like me.