#the mark less version is on the Patreon

[overlordneon]

A commission done last month in preparation for Everfree Northwest, and I'm very happy to know that Rebecca Shoichet now has a print of this one to keep!

Alicorn Goddess Sunset Shimmer decked out in armor and flying alongside Philomena and Faerana, a very cool Moon Phoenix OC.

Image is based on Amber Spark's own AU fic (which now this as its new Cover Art) that you can read here:

And a Sky Full of Stars - Amber Spark (Fimfiction)

[OverlordNeon Patreon] [Commission Info]

[nsves]

demure piercings.

dl | patreon (alt.) | 20 swatches, BGC, hq comp, 16.8k poly. fem frame only and can be distorted with heavily sculpted body presets. left ring category. 2 versions to account for two different uses, explained below!

version 1: the main version of the piercings, less distortion compared to version 2. in exchange of less distortion, the weights do not support complex/bending poses. best used for standing still type of photos.

version 2: same mesh as version 1, just weighted differently so it supports bending and twisting in the body. some of the piercing hoops will distort more on bigger bodies and stretch out weirdly (example photo):

you can have both versions installed at the same time and are marked accordingly on their thumbnails

[waynes-multiverse]

The Craving

Summary: Everyone is moving forward, only Dean is standing still. Sam leaves the bunker first, but when he fears to lose you as well, he knows he finally has to do something. Because, after all, all he really craves is you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language and smut, post S15, major angst, hurt, cheating, Reader x OMC (established), severe pining, jealousy, drinking, humor, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 13.7k

Song Inspiration: The Craving (Jenna's Version) – twenty one pilots. Listen here! 🎶

Posten on Patreon March 1, 2025

A/N: Yay, finally this monster of a fic is here! There will be parts that hurt a lot, parts where you'll snort, parts where you might catch fire, and parts where you'll feel as fluffy as cotton candy. Hang in there 😉

Happy reading! 🩵

Main Masterlist || Dean Winchester Masterlist || Tag List

Dean’s not the jealous type. At least, he thinks he isn’t, considering he’s never really had opportunity to feel jealous before.

But then came you.

He knew he wanted to be with you – as in the one one – the minute Sam led you down the round, metal staircase after running into you during a hunt. Yup, it was instant. One of those “love at first sight” kinds of crap.

For quite some time, you’d been hunting on your own, but soon enough, you began to call the bunker your home and the brothers your family. And Dean would cockily smirk at you and throw flirtatious jokes your way all day long as if all he ever wanted was to simply get you for a drunk roll on the motel mattress and nothing more. But you crave more than a night of fun, not knowing he craves the same thing, too.

And it is more – more than a simple craving to kiss you, to touch you, or to fuck you. The craving wants to love you, to hold you, and to be with you endlessly, including all that other mushy, sappy shit that comes with it. And Dean’s not even sure it’s just all of that, either. Because all the craving ever screams is you. Nothing else.

You, you, you, you, you… 

You.

That’s all there is. And the more he has of you, the happier the craving is. The less he has of you… well, one gets the gist.

The craving is a feeling greater and stronger than the bloodlust he’s experienced during the Mark of Cain – not that he’s ever told anyone that out of fear of being called crazy. It is crazy.

Fucking crazy. 

Nonetheless, it’s true. The craving for you only grows stronger and more relentless every day, causes him to lose both appetite and sleep, and never leaves him in peace.

But for years, Dean’s never entertained the craving for too long. He’s never listened to his head, heart, or gut when either of those things urged him to ask you out. After all, you deserved better than him, deserved more than the darkness he could offer, deserved a life where you got everything you ever wanted and more.

He is sure, though, you don’t want him.

But then, finally, there was a dim, miniature, barely visible light at the end of his super dark tunnel full of horrors. Chuck was squashed, monsters were scarce, and retirement was on the near horizon.

Sam started bringing Eileen around more and going on dates and being all nauseously cute, while Dean watched Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime, and a whole lot of other subscription services Sam wasn’t happy about when he went through the household bills. The main takeaway, though, is: Dean was never bored.

Nope, not at all.

Besides, you were there, too. For some of it. At least for a while.

Not long after Sam’s “courting” began, his kid brother finally left the nest, and then only you and him remained.

“We’re kinda like full-on roommates now,” you’d said after Sam had grabbed his last box, and you had been entertaining Dean’s melancholic mood with whiskey in the kitchen.

Dean had only smiled into his glass. “We’ve been roommates for five years now.”

“Yeah, but we’re finally rid of Monica and Chandler. This is the Joey and Rachel era!” you announced with a slightly slurred speech and toasted to the occasion by drinking straight from the bottle.

Dean, of course, had found it fucking adorable and pressed his lips very hard against the rim of his glass upon his next sip, trying his best not to grab you and kiss you right then and there.

He’d already missed his fucking chance…

“Who’s Monica and who’s Chandler?” Dean had asked to distract himself from the craving.

“Duh, obviously Sam’s Monica. He’s a complete neat freak. And Eileen’s fucking funny,” you’d postulated. “This is what I mean, though! Both of us are sloths! We can finally let chaos reign!”

Welp, that hadn’t helped to lessen the craving at all. It had been downright whining then. His heart had only pounded louder, yearned more.

“What kinda mess were you thinking of, sweetheart?” Dean had flirtatiously and daringly asked – he still liked to test the water from time to time, although he knew the lake was frozen.

You had chided him with a partially amused look and then musingly sipped on the bottle. “Hmm, wanna throw wet paper towels against the wall?”

“Sure that’s a good idea? You know Sam’s coming by tomorrow morning to come pick up more boxes. I seriously think he’s taking the whole library with him,” Dean had joked.

“Even better! He’s gonna clean it up ‘cause he’s Monica!”

Drunk-you might have been evil in a mad but cute genius kind of way.

“No way!” Dean had scoffed it off, mostly to encourage you to carry on. He’d had feeling where this was heading.

“Oh, yeah? How much you wanna bet, Winchester?” You’d leaned forward with your elbows on the counter and a challenging look twinkling in your eyes.

And Dean had wanted nothing more than to bet a goddamn kiss. But he hadn’t been able to do that anymore, either. 

As Dean grinds his brain about all of this, he stares at the reason why from the dark corner booth of the bar. He watches you with a gigantic lump in his throat as you’re in someone else’s embrace, his grip white-knuckling around the tumbler of whiskey once more.

Dean’s greener than green eyes see it all. He sees the arms that tightly clasp your body from behind that aren’t his. He sees your laughs at jokes that he can’t hear. He sees the face nuzzling in your hair that he can’t feel. He sees the smiles you draw when kisses litter your neck, leaving fucking purple and blue permanent tattoos behind – and he can’t ink any of them.

Dean sees the fucking happiness shining in your eyes. He’s never seen you happier than this before. And not any of it is caused by him. Nope.

“Hey, you good?”

Sam slides back into the booth opposite him and draws Dean’s attention, finally steering the insatiable craving away from you. But Dean knows his little brother only asks because he’s worried about Dean’s declining state of mind, even though there is really no reason to. Sam’s exaggerating as per usual.

If Sam’s showing signs of concern, it’s only because he knows too damn well how catastrophically Dean has failed and ruined any future with you by not communicating his craving. And now all there’s left is sulking and regretting. Then some more sulking and regretting. And oh, uh, more sulking and regretting till he drops for good, which is hopefully soon, considering the slow pace his life is currently going right now – just an agonizing crawl to the goddamn finish line.

See? No need for worries. Dean’s absolutely and completely–

“Fine.” Dean scoffs the word into his drink, his eyes flickering back to you. You’re making out now. Great.

Your boyfriend’s hands drift to your asscheeks and palm them. Dean wants to drown in his whiskey.

But it’s good. It’s good you have someone. Someone who can give you everything. Everything you want. God knows Dean can’t give you that, can he? Not then. But now? Now he could, couldn’t he?

What’s he got going on right now that’s so dangerous?

The only things that can kill him these days are the greasy food, alcoholism, and sheer boredom. Cancer. ‘Cause that son of a bitch can get anyone. Maybe some freakish household accident – getting electrocuted by a faulty outlet, slipping in the shower, food poisoning, choking. Maybe even a fucking car runs him over when he’s simply crossing the street.

Well, now it just sounds like a list of things that angel-dick Gabriel would’ve done to him…

He’s already been through it all. What more could go wrong?

“Dean…” Sam’s giving him a pointed look that says, ‘I’ve known you all my life. Stop pretending and talk to me.’

But Dean doesn’t want to talk.

“‘M good,” he repeats and forces the tightest smile known to mankind. It not even closely reaches the soft crinkles around his green eyes.

“I just talked to Trey at the bar,” Sam says then and tugs his bottom lip between his teeth.

Dean wants to scoff at the name.

In fact, he’s tried his hardest to hate the guy, but it’s impossible. Trey’s charming and funny and kind. He’s also taller and broader and younger than the older Winchester, which only adds another painful thorn.

But the dude treats you with respect, holds open doors for you, and cares about your feelings and thoughts and dreams. He listens to you, consoles you when you’re sad, and comforts you when you’re lonely. He’s even tried to become friends with the brothers, knowing how much they mean to you. And most of all, he not only shows you how much he craves you, but he also tells you so every day.

Dean’s been there a few times when it happened. It was fucking sickening.

And sure, Dean could still worry that some civilian can’t take care of you and protect you the way he would, but the guy was a fucking Navy SEAL and a hunter of all things that go bump in the night. To top it all off, he’s now retired and owns a small carpentry in Michigan.

The dude’s fucking Jesus, and Dean knows he stands no chance. So, yeah, maybe he’s a little jealous of the guy.

He has everything Dean wants.

“There’s something you should know, Dean,” Sam continues when the older brother’s lost in his craving again and hasn’t said anything for a full minute.

“Hm, what?” Dean can tell by Sam’s tight expression and slightly furrowed brows that it’s not good. His heart is already constricting. It knows why.

It was almost a year ago, a few months after Chuck’s reign of playing Sims had ended, that Dean had finally gathered enough courage to ask you out (with a lot of pushing from Sam and Eileen). So, while you’d been out on a small, two-day-long ghost hunt on your own, Dean had prepared a whole speech in his head.

Hunts were not only rare these lonely days, but they were also kind of… meh. Mostly your friendly neighborhood Caspers. Since Sam had dipped out, Dean and you resorted to coin tosses, drawing straws and matches, and the occasional paper-rock-scissors.

Dean still sucks at it.

Which is why you went alone. And he wasn’t even worried, just grateful for some space to get his head straight. He’d surprise you with something… romantic when you got back. He wasn’t sure what yet.

But two days turned into three, four, five and six. You’d give him regular updates, assuring him you were safe, sane, and healthy. The hunt was done – you’d decided to take a quick vacation.

The scenery had been so inviting.

On day eight, he questioned if he should follow you. Maybe you’d been kidnapped and held against your will, and he’d been texting with your tormentor this whole time. He barely ever caught you on the phone, and if he did, it was only briefly and you were always out of breath.

Hiking. That had been your explanation.

Yes, Dean should’ve put two and two together at that point, but he just couldn’t see beyond his own craving. It left him blindsided, even though he knew damn well you hated walking through nature as much as he did.

On the evening of day eight, you then called and told him you were coming home. His heart had swelled in his chest at the word.

Dean was your home. That was all he had heard.

Late on day nine, you finally returned to the bunker. Dean had prepared a movie night in the cave – he’d picked your favorite, nothing fancy, just the way you like it. But by the end of it – when you’d lie snuggled against his side like you usually did with his arm wrapped around your middle – he’d tell you about the craving.

He’d tell you he was in love with you. That you were all he was ever thinking about. That he couldn’t get enough of you. That he craved you day and night. That he couldn’t stop.

“So, how was the hunt?” he’d asked as you both stood in the war room, and you’d placed your duffel bag down on the table. “And the vacation?”

Until then, Dean hadn’t really questioned it. He knows you like to catch a wave and ride it out. It’s one of the things he loves about you, always hoping you’ll drag him with you into the sunset at some point.

“I-, uh…” 

Dean had noted the subtle bite of your lower lip, the smile that was itching to break free underneath.

“I met someone,” you’d finally confessed.

Dean’s still sure those are the three most horrible words of the English language. Nothing has ever torn apart his heart more.

“Met someone, huh?” He had swallowed heavily but played it off with a teasing smile. “You’re not usually one for hook-ups…”

“I’m not,” you’d confirmed. The secretive smile that flashed across your lips almost killed him. “I-, uh, I think it might be more than that.”

“More, huh?”

“Yeah, more,” you’d said softly and bit your lip again. Your cheeks had been glowing. You’d been so fucking happy and yet tried to hide it from him to spare his feelings – not that you had a clue. You’d only known Dean hated change and strangers and abandonment.

“You, uh, wanna watch a movie with me?” he’d still tried. He’d been sure one night or one week with some stranger couldn’t trump what he had with you. If he said something now, maybe he could still turn it around.

“I’m honestly kinda beat. Raincheck?”

“Sure.” He’d nodded and forced a painful smile. Luckily, he knew how to hide his pain well. 

At first, Dean hoped the guy wouldn’t call you again. Sure, he’d hate to see you broken-hearted, but he’d be there to pick up the pieces. One by one. Dean could satiate your craving.

But perfect fucking Trey called you that same night. Asked if you got home safely. Oh, Dean wanted to be mad about it. How dare this fucker, right? But how?

‘Stop caring about the girl I pretended not to care about for fucking years?’ 

Yeah, no, there’s no excuse. Dean’s the fucker, really.

So, come next morning, Dean made sure all traces of his romantic plans were erased in the cave. You were none the wiser when you woke up.

Dean then resorted to waiting. And waiting and waiting and waiting. And he figured if he waited long enough, your relationship with fucking Steve Rogers would run its natural course. Something would happen. It was long distance after all and not that threatening.

Yet.

It started with rare, brief visits. You’d stay in Michigan or a hotel in Kansas City for a weekend every once in a while, and Dean’s craving could deal with the temporary separation from you, although it was far from happy.

Yeah, alright, it was being a suicidal dickhead. He even preferred you staying in Michigan over the idea of you fucking your brains out in the hot tub of some fancy hotel.

Well, shit, like he said: The craving was being a complete dick about it and clearly not taking it so well.

The expensive whiskey you got him for his 42nd birthday, though, always quieted it enough to pass out till Sunday evening when you’d return.

But a weekend slowly turned into a full week and then into a whole goddamn month. Now, you weren’t just fucking your brains out anymore but playing house. Somehow, that was even fucking worse. The craving protested and screamed inside of him, urging him to keep you close.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

You’d still call him every few days to check up on him, but hearing your voice only turned the craving more violent, more needy.

It was a whiny fucking bitch most days.

And now, well, you’re celebrating your first anniversary this fucking weekend. Your boyfriend has a whole goddamn romantic getaway planned. You’ve talked about it nonstop, looked forward to it for weeks.

Dean doesn’t know if he’s still waiting or if he’s given up. Feels a little like giving up.

His green eyes flick to you and Trey on the small dance floor of the dingy bar once again. Someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you is truly a juxtaposition in a place like this – in his life, really.

You have your arms locked tightly around your boyfriend’s neck, his hands enclose your hips as you sway to the rhythm of the live music. You laugh wholeheartedly and throw your head back. He runs his face through your hair and surely whispers something dirty into your ear the way your grasp tightens on him, too.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice snaps him out of his trance once more.

“Hmm, what?” Dean blinks at his little brother and sees the heartbreak shimmering in his hazel eyes. He knows it’s unavoidable by now.

“Look, uhm, Trey told me he was planing to propose to her this weekend.” Sam gets it out in one breath but then pauses. He watches his older brother closely as if Dean would break down at any second.

But Dean’s seen it coming for a while now. It’s been undeniable.

“He-, uh, he asked for our blessing.” Sam chuckles a little at the unnecessary gesture and scratches the mop of hair, but Dean can tell a part of his little brother feels honored at the consideration.

“You said no, right?!” Dean snaps too harshly, no control over the wild furrowing of his brow. The craving is taking over. It wants to fight. It wants to defend what’s his.

“Dean...” Sam frowns with a look that says the older Winchester was being ridiculous. “It’s not my place to give. That’s what I told him, too.”

“Good.” Dean huffs bitterly into his whiskey and empties the glass.

“I still told him we’d be happy for them, though,” Sam adds with reluctance and caution.

“Sam, c’mon, man!” Exasperatedly, Dean shakes his head. His glare is biting. “Bad day to play middle man! How about you’re on my side for once, huh? Pick your fucking battles, dude!”

“Dean, I’m always on your side,” Sam assures with that puppy dog look of his.

Dean scoffs at it. “Could’ve fooled me…”

But he knows Sam would give his soul to make this situation better for him. It’s just the alcohol and sadness talking. He has to let it out somewhere. Sam knows that, too.

“Maybe you should tell her,” his little brother suggests then, and Dean’s not even sure he’s heard him right because it’s so fucking insane.

“What, are you nuts?!”

“Just think about it,” Sam urges, nearly insists even. “Look, I know you’re scared she won’t feel the same way and reject you–“

“Duh.” Dean scoffs, wishing his tumbler would magically refill for this conversation.

“But if she says yes–,” Sam continues, “–you’ll lose her anyway. You know she won’t stay with you forever, right? I don’t think they’ll move into the bunker with you.”

And thank fucking God for that. Dean would probably hang himself in his room after three days of watching and hearing you honeymoon like newlyweds. Any chances Hell would take him back?

“Sam–“

“What d’you have to lose at this point, Dean?” Sam reiterates. This time, more forcefully. “This might be your last chance, man. You seriously wanna live with that regret for the rest of your life?”

Well, Dean isn’t planing on sticking around for that much longer anyway. He’s sure a monster will get him one of these days on those solo hunts if he upped the recklessness enough and got a little more careless. But obviously, he doesn’t tell his little brother that. Sam would only unnecessarily worry again.

Dean shakes his head once more, and it pains him to do so. “I-, I can’t, Sam. Can’t do it.”

“Dean–“

“I don’t wanna mess with her head, alright?” he finally says. His gaze drifts back to you; tears blur his vision and threaten to spill. “Look at her, man. She’s fucking happy. I don’t wanna ruin that for her.”

Sam lets out a deep sigh, his gaze flickering from you back to Dean. Then, he licks his lips, and Dean can tell his little brother just thought of a new argument to put forth. He really would’ve made a good lawyer.

“Listen, if that really messes with her head, then maybe she would’ve never been as happy with him to begin with,” Sam counters.

Admittedly, it’s a good theory. Dean almost buys it.

“Nah, it’s too late,” Dean brushes the sliver of hope away. He pulls out his wallet and slaps enough cash on the table to close his tab as he slides out of the booth. “I should go home.”

“Hey, are you guys leaving already?”

Suddenly, there you are, with a smile sparkling so bright Dean could confuse it for diamonds in the sky. His eyes then torturously follow your arm, down to your intertwined fingers and the tall man in tow behind you.

“Yeah, uh, kinda exhausted,” Dean says as casually as possible. He hopes you can’t see the torment in his heart.

“Oh, alright.” You nod, and Dean imagines even a hint of disappointment in your voice. The craving probably plays pretend to guard his heart.

You give him a hug goodbye and kiss his cheek. But your lips on his skin are only a quick fix for the craving. It wants more. It’s a beast that’s always ravenous and never satiated.

Leaving the bar hasn’t stopped Dean from drinking, however. He’s determined to drown his sorrows and continues to pour whiskey after whiskey, finding solace in his haze as he sulks and regrets at the kitchen island in the dark, empty bunker. He supposes he has to get used to that feeling – loneliness.

His mind’s still reeling, his skull functioning as a bathtub for cheap booze. He should probably switch to something more bubbly…

He snorts at his own joke, the sound echoing through the emptiness. Great, now he’s the weirdo hermit who laughs to himself.

Maybe Sam’s got a point. Maybe this is his last chance. There’s still a spark of hope – or so the craving believes.

And then, after two in the morning, you finally stagger home and tumble into the kitchen with a goofily drunk smile on your face that causes Dean’s breath to halt. His heart almost shoots out of his chest, wanting to jump straight into your warm embrace.

“Hey, you’re still up,” you say with a small yawn and round the corner to the island, grabbing yourself a glass of water by the sink. “Can’t sleep again, huh?”

It’s not unusual for you to find Dean roaming the bunker in the middle of the night like the ghosts he hunts. Most of the time, your strongest bonds were forged by the late-night, deep-talks you’d shared in here. You keep them close to your heart.

“Nah, not really,” Dean says casually and sips on his drink as if it were just a fluke – a one-time occurrence. But you know better than that.

“Is it about Sam?” you ask almost knowingly and watch Dean’s brow raise with his gaze.

Oh, that. He has completely forgotten about that – the whole reason they’ve gone out to celebrate tonight in the first place.

“Yeah, uh, was a lot tonight, y’know?” Dean deflects. He figures it’s at least a good excuse.

A soft smile spreads on your lips. “You’re gonna be an uncle, though. That’s gotta be exciting, right?”

You’re trying so hard to help him find the silver lining, to give him comfort and drag him out of his misery. But Dean’s sure he’s stuck at rock bottom.

“Yeah, ‘m happy for him,” Dean replies but doesn’t say more. Doesn’t say that he’s envious of his little brother, doesn’t say he craves the same thing, too.

“Dean,” you sigh his name and clasp his hand on the counter. Your touch burns his skin. The craving boils his blood. “I know you hate change, but it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m sure it will, sweetheart,” Dean says but doesn’t mean it. He knows it’s not true. It won’t be okay without you. So, he forces a wry smile. It’s almost bitter. “Still got you, though, right?”

“Yeah, you got me,” you say softly and send him a smile. It doesn’t reach your eyes, however. Dean knows why.

“Thought you were spending the night out,” Dean notes then and disturbs the silence that has consumed the kitchen.

“Uh, Trey’s got an early flight,” you explain. “I’ll see him on the weekend, though. I suppose I’ll survive.”

Dean’s not sure he will, though, and doesn’t laugh at your joke.

At least, you barely ever bring your boyfriend around the bunker. You mostly spend the nights at a hotel whenever he comes to visit. Dean’s not entirely sure why. It might be the vibe he’s giving off when he’s near you two. You’ve had several talks with him about his attitude.

“Be nicer. Try a little harder to get along with him. I really like this guy,” you’d said. 

And Dean tried for your sake, even though he didn’t really mean it. Moreover, he got the strange sense that Trey knew Dean was harboring feelings for you and was nice enough not to rub it in, keeping his distance. Like Dean stated earlier: It was fucking impossible to hate the guy.

The dude was not nice enough to back off and let you go, though. Dean supposes that also means Trey is smarter than him, too. Awesome.

“You know, uhm…” You chew on your lip. Your heart begins to sting. “Trey asked me to move in with him. In… in Michigan.”

Dean’s silent for a beat. His ears are ringing as if a doctor had just told him he’s got prostate cancer and only a few months left to live. Honestly, it sounds more pleasant than this.

“Hmm,” Dean hums and takes a bigger gulp of his whiskey.

He refills once more, the glass and bottle only blurry shapes in his vision at this point. He ponders if there’s something stronger to numb his pain. Maybe it’s time to pick up a heroin addiction – die cool like Morrison and Cobain.

“Dean…”

You see the devastation on his face. You don’t want to hurt him, but you know him well enough to know that you do. What are you supposed to do, though? Sacrifice your whole happiness and future for his? Never expect to get anything in return? You couldn’t keep living like this.

“You’re my best friend. You know I’m not gonna leave you, right?”

“So, you’re staying?” His look is hopeful, and it kills you.

You swallow lightly. “Sure, yeah,” you say with a weak smile and shrug. “I’m not moving out tomorrow.”

The hope deflates, his face drops, and his look turns crestfallen.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me, okay? It’s no problem, I promise,” you add comfortingly. You know he hates being alone. “I’m sure Trey and I can do long distance a little while longer. I mean, it worked fine so far. Don’t worry, alright?”

Dean hears you. He doesn’t want to drag you down, keep you from living your life. He supposes he has to set you free now.

“Look, I’ll be fine, alright?” he states and forces a cool, carefree, lazy smile with the utmost sincerity – as much as he can find at least. It might have been the worst lie he ever told, and he told a lot of lies over the decades. “If you wanna move out, you should. Don’t take my feelings into account.”

“Dean…”

Your heart stings. You can’t leave him like this. At the same time, you fight your own anger and push it down. If he really didn’t want you to leave, then why had he never done anything, said anything to make you stay? You’d waited years for him to see you, to take your hand, to love you and run toward the sunset with you. But he never did, not even when the big bads were all defeated and gone.

Instead, you watched him flirt with strange women in even stranger bars. You watched him lead them to his precious car with his hand on their backs (or their asses) and a wide, goofy, all-teeth grin on his punchable, freckled face. You watched him disappear for entire nights and return to the bunker, to the endless motels, in the mornings with his latest conquest’s marks on his skin.

A row of tattoos he’d gotten just for you that all read the same message: Fuck you.

And it fucking hurts every single time. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Sometimes, you thought you couldn’t take any more and would just grow numb to the pain. But you never did. It all mars your heart the same.

Some days, it felt like you were dying inside.

And then, after the hunting life slowed, you wanted to keep moving, explore what other wonders life had to offer aside from exterminating monsters and living underground. Sam felt the urge, too. So, you both set sail into the world – but Dean didn’t. He stood still at the docks.

“What’s going on with you?” You step closer, worry shimmering in your eyes. “I know it’s been hard on you since Sam’s moved out. But you’re the best guy I know. There’s great things out there for you, too. I just know it. Don’t give up hope now.”

Dean wants to scoff, cry, and laugh hysterically. He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the whiskey in his grasp.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words are out. Dean’s astonished they finally left his lips. He can’t quite believe it, even clasps his mouth with a hand and runs it across his face. It’s been his best guarded secret for so long. Someone should slap him. Where’s Sam when he needs him the most?

Dean downs the whiskey in his hand and looks up at you. He feels like he cursed you. You’re frozen in place, petrified by the spell he cast. But your lower lip and eyelids are quivering, so he supposes you’re still alive in there somewhere.

“Say something. Please... Anything,” he begs. He wants to drink more but fears you might think of him as a drunk, although he’s pretty sure you’re already aware. That train has left the station, so he might as well make its final destination his mouth.

On shaky legs, you grasp the edge of the counter for support. A “brace yourself, you might wanna sit down for this one” would’ve been greatly appreciated.

“I-, uh… I have to sit down,” you force the words out with a clear of your very dry fucking throat because you’re still rather speechless – and drunk.

Judging by the almost empty bottle of whiskey on the counter, so is Dean, it seems.

Dean heroically jumps from his seat to offer it to you but watches you simply lower to the cool tiles of the floor instead. You’d love nothing more than to lie there and curl in the fetal position right now.

Slowly, Dean crouches down and joins you, careful not to touch you, ignoring the craving’s persistent screams to do exactly that. His hands are shaking from holding back.

Your lips part and shut, your eyes are lost, your brows tremble as you try to understand and think of something to say. But your mind is overflowing. Your gaze stays fixed on the ground and the cracks in the grout between the old tiles.

“If this is some prank, Dean…”

You don’t really think he’s this cruel or moronic. You can always hope, though.

“It’s-, it’s not,” he assures you and tries not be offended. He knows you’re still processing. Besides, he may have overdone it with the pranks a little since Sam is gone. He's put that extra energy into you. “I’ve felt this way for a long time… Knew you were special the second I saw you… Knew I-… I loved you when we watched Shawshank Redemption together your first week here. Remember that? You quoted the whole movie. I guess, I-… I’ve been craving you since then.”

A fond smile flashes on his lips at the memory, but his jade green eyes flicker with insecurity.

You gasp for air and find your voice. “Why did you never say anything?”

“I-… I tried. Not hard enough, I guess.” He chuckles self-consciously, scratching the nape of his neck. But you don’t share his humor. “Last time I tried was when you told me you met–“

He stops himself from saying the name. His mouth twitches with a bitter taste. He doesn’t want to say the name you scream when you cum.

Oof, he wonders which of the many whiskeys was the one that has finally crossed the threshold to pathetic.

“I actually wanted to watch Shawshank Redemption with you that night when you came home, tell you then,” he continues, his tongue swiping over his chapped lips. It’s just his luck, isn’t it? He truly found out how unlucky he was once Chuck was gone. To think the guy actually protected him from some of it almost makes him scoff out loud. “But, uh…”

“I went to bed early,” you finish his thought.

He cocks a brow at you. A drop of resentment sneaks into his voice. “Did you, though? Your room’s right next to mine, sweetheart. I knew you were on the phone with–… I could hear you.”

You scoff darkly and stare straight into his eyes, and for the first time, Dean can see the real hurt in yours. Was he responsible for this?

“Yeah, trust me. I’ve been there,” you reply cynically.

Oh, Dean knows he has messed up.

“Why the fuck now, Dean? What’s changed, huh?” You rise from the floor and begin to frantically pace the kitchen. Dean follows you. “Is it because I told you I was leaving? What, you just decided now’s a good time?!”

“Look, uhm, Sam doesn’t want me to tell you this, but there’s something you should know, alright? I think you should know,” he insists but rubs a hand over his mouth. He knows he’s being selfish. He fucking knows he shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t tell you.

But he fucking wants you a lot more, cost what it will. He’d sell his goddamn soul all over again for you. The craving is not backing down now.

You look at him like he’s kidding. He must be. How could there be more?

“Your boyfriend’s gonna propose to you this weekend,” Dean tells you and slaps you right across the face with the news.

You think he might as well be joking and playing a prank on you again. His face is deadly serious, however, his green eyes dark, stern and unwavering. You can tell he hates the thought of it, the mere suggestion you could be someone else’s, and he’s probably stirred in that hatred all night. So, that’s what truly motivated his ship to leave the harbor.

“But–“ Dean pauses, considering his next words carefully, but his eyes remain fixed on you, drill into you. “But if there’s a chance you don’t want that, just a sliver… I-… I need to know, alright? I need to know if it could be me. I can’t let you go without knowing… without trying.”

You think you’re close to fainting. You feel lightheaded, dizzy. It’s too much. It’s all too fucking much.

“Are you fucking serious right now?! Why the fuck are you doing this to me? Why didn’t you say it earlier?” The tears of desperation sting your eyes as you shove at his chest. “Why didn’t you fucking move sooner?!”

It’s not a question as much as it is an accusation. Dean grabs your hands that still press against his chest and holds them still on his heart. His gaze locks with yours.

And then, Dean recognizes the familiar anger in your eyes. He knows it’s the craving. Not his, but yours.

For him.

“Do you love me?” he dares to ask. He might as well, considering this is the end and he’s putting all his cards on the table tonight. He knows he’ll lose you, so why not do it with a bang? Winchesters are known to go down swinging.

You fight for words. Your heart twists. “It’s too late,” you whisper, tears rolling down your hot cheeks freely.

“It’s not a no,” Dean says softly, his heart swelling a tiny bit more in his chest. It’s almost cute, like a little kid arguing about bedtime, asking for one more glass of water before he has to go down for good.

“It’s not a yes, either,” you counter quite spitefully. You can’t reward this behavior, can you? The man just took a wrecking ball to your life, to your current relationship, to your future – something you’ve carefully crafted and cared for and grown for close to a year.

A year.

And he thinks of this now? When you have one foot out the door? That’s when he fucking realizes?!

You’re furious and want to yell at him till you’re blue in the face. Mostly, though, you’re furious with yourself. Maybe you should’ve known, should’ve suspected. After all, you know him well. You know his insecurities and his deepest, darkest fantasies. What Sam has now, what you’re about to have – the apple pie life.

“So, it’s a… maybe?”

You want to sigh and pray heavenward. Is anyone listening to this? Hello?!

“Do you love him?”

This time, you sigh out loud. “You know I do.”

Your words are sharp, and you can tell that they sting. He flinches when you say them. But something weird tugs at you when you do.

“You love me, too?”

You’re silent for a moment. You don’t know if the truth makes it worse or better.

“I do,” you admit through more painful tears that blur your already hazy vision. His piercingly green eyes find you, and you note the soft, upward curve of his lips.

“You love me more?”

“Dean!”

Yeah, he was pushing it…

Pensively, his tongue swipes slowly over his upper lip before he tucks the lower one between his teeth. Then, he clicks his tongue when he’s thought of something to say, something to give him an advantage, anything.

You love him. There’s a chance.

“Look, it’s not too late, okay? If you wanna get out, just say the word,” Dean says. There’s urgency in the deep timbres of his voice. This is his last shot. He can’t keep watching from the window looking in as everyone eats dinner without him. He has to move.

“So, what? So I can live here with you and watch you hook up with strangers for eternity?” Frustratedly, you wipe the tears from your cheeks and look at him. You can tell your little comment caused a paper cut.

Bobbing his head, Dean rubs his lips with his fingers. He knows he deserves that snide comment. Those distractions from the craving certainly haven’t done him any favors.

“I get it. I screwed up. I came a little late to the party,” Dean admits. Tears threaten to drown the green in his eyes, but he fights to keep them behind the dam. He needs to get this out first. “But I’m here now. I’m yours. All yours. I’m not going anywhere,” he vows, and you believe him with your breaking heart. “I swear to you, to anyone who will fucking listen… I won’t screw this up again. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. You wanna get married? Have kids? I’d do it right now with you. You wanna go see the world? Go skydiving? Then knock me out and drag me onto a plane. Just tell me. I’d give you everything I have, sweetheart.”

His voice chokes on the last few words, barely pushing them out. His heart roars; his lungs wring for air. Every muscle, every vein, every nerve feels like its being electrocuted. Tenses, twists, and constricts under the pressure of the craving.

You’re speechless, your mouth agape. You look at him, stare. You see the desperation, the pain, the fear, the need, the love, the craving. But you can’t think of anything to say. You don’t know what to do, except wait for an ice age to come and freeze you both in time, so you get more time to think.

“I-I-… I should go. I’ll stay at a motel,” you manage to say, your voice trembling like the rest of your body. You can’t feel your legs, your hands, or your head. Most of all, you can’t feel your heart.

You don’t have to say yes or no. You don’t have to make a decision right now – wasted and sleep-deprived. You do the smart thing, the wise thing, the right thing.

But why does it feel so wrong and stupid then?

“You’re leaving?” Dean’s disbelief seeps into every syllable. He can’t understand. He figured this would fix it.

“I’m sorry.” The sniffled apology is quiet as you try to push past him. His skin brushes yours. A wildfire inflames inside of you that vaporizes all tears and fears.

Dean feels it, too.

All rational thought dissipates from his mind then. He grabs hold of your arm and spins you flush against his warm and inviting body. His lips collide with yours – hungry, wild, and fervent.

The craving wins.

You don’t fight it. You melt into the kiss, into him, into feeling instead of thinking. You lick the whiskey from his tongue, drink till you’re drunk on him, and Dean savors the minty Mojitos he’s watched you sip all night.

Your hands don’t find a place, neither can his. There’s too much to discover, new territory you’re both unfamiliar with but always wanted to see, feel, explore. So, he roams your soft curves and you his taut muscles. Squeezing, scratching, trailing.

Your fingers card and tug at the soft hair in the nape of his neck, lock tightly around him as you push yourself closer. He groans and sends vibrations through you.

Dean’s grip on your hips is bruising as he molds you to his frame. He really tries to achieve the impossible here. He won’t let go now. This is it, and with that thought, he cages you between his body and the kitchen island.

The two of you never dare to break the kiss, knowing that if you gave yourselves enough time to think, you’d stop this madness and come to your senses. Neither of you wants that. Not really. Not now.

The craving silenced everything else. It takes what it needs. It needs you. It needs him.

You’ve wanted this for so long – him and you, exactly like this. And now, it’s all so wrong but so fucking right, too.

You whimper into his mouth, your core flooding with desperate need when you feel his growing dick strain against his jeans and press between your legs. Your fingers work on autopilot as they unbutton his flannel and slide it over his broad shoulders.

Dean tosses your top over your head, and your legs wrap around his middle. He hoists you into his arms, and you fling his shirt somewhere when he’s on the move. Your bra follows, landing in the hallway, a trail of clothes marking the path of sin through the bunker.

You’re not sure the two of you will make it to a room, any room, as Dean stops and bumps you against walls, only to ravage more parts of your skin. He bites, he marks, and he grips your flesh so roughly you’re sure you’ll be more than blue in the morning. You know he wants to leave his impression on every inch of you. You don’t stop him because, God have mercy, you want that, too.

You feel him everywhere and still crave fucking more.

And Dean somehow still seems to make it to room 11 because when your eyes blink open the next time, you suddenly find yourself there. Of course it’s there. He needs your impressions to haunt him, too – your noises inside his four walls, your indentations in his mattress, your scent on his pillow, your arousal soaking his sheets.

He wants to lower you to his bed, to the memory foam, but your legs unravel around his waist, bare feet landing on the floor.

You can’t remember when you kicked off your shoes, but Dean isn’t wearing his boots anymore either and only one sock, so you figure they’re somewhere in the bunker with the rest of your lost items.

Your lips leave his but not him. They lick, suck, and bite down the scruffy column of his throat, his solid and freckled chest, all the way down his softly defined abs as you fall to your knees in front of him like he’s an altar you’re about to worship at.

Your fingers hastily unbuckle belt and lower zipper, pushing jeans to his ankles. You don’t bother long with his boxers, still strapped around his knees when you free him and wrap a hand around his throbbing cock as if to shield it from the sudden chill that creeps along your own skin. You don’t even manage a full pump before your lips seal around his red and swollen head. You swallow him whole.

You don’t wait. You don’t think. You give yourself fully to the craving.

It’s a greedy bitch.

A “shit” escapes him when you welcome him into your hot mouth till he hits the back of your throat, the first word that cuts through the moans and heavy breathing since this cataclysmic gluttony began.

You don’t pull back. You stay, hold on. Your tongue massages the thick vein. Your moans vibrate around him and send shivers up his spine, tighten his balls. Your mouth fills with saliva till it threatens to drool out. Your hand can’t even fully grasp his thickness, thumb out of reach from your other fingertips. You haven’t even noticed how big he truly is till tears sting your eyes, and you feel the aches in your jaw from trying to accommodate all of him. Luckily, the burning alcohol numbs some of it.

You both still and know there’s no fucking way back now when your eyes meet. There’s only forward and more.

A massive hand reaches to cradle your head, brushes your hair from your face, massages your jaw, and caresses your chin. Fuck. You drool more and press your thighs together while your pussy whines around nothing.

You slowly pull back, suck with hollowed cheeks and swirl around his tip and dip into his slit. He leaks precum onto your tongue, a tang of salt and sweetness and Dean.

You’re sucking his cock. You’re sucking Dean's cock. You’re fucking sucking Dean Winchester’s fucking cock.

“Fuck, that mouth…” Dean’s hips buck in rhythm with your bobbing head. The fist in your hair tightens, tugs harder, deliciously stings your scalp.

You want him to spill down your throat. You want to taste and drink and swallow all of him.

But Dean’s got other ideas. He raises you back to your feet with a strong grip of your upper arms. You barely catch a breath before he claims your swollen and soaking lips, kisses you truly, madly, deeply. He licks the taste of him from your tongue, his dick standing spit-wet and aching by your belly.

“Dean,” you whimper against his lips, thighs rubbing together. You can feel your arousal dripping down. You need friction, you need to get rid of your goddamn jeans and underwear, you need him.

“‘M take care of you,” he mumbles and nods like agreeing to a decision he just made, and you know he doesn’t just mean your climax or your craving. He means he’ll take care of you forever. That’s the promise he’s just made.

His fingers toy with your waistband and pull down your zipper. He pushes you back and leads you till you lie back onto the mattress, feet dangling over the edge. He shimmies you out of your confining denim, and then he’s on you, hovering above, kneeling between your spread legs.

Dean leaves you with one blazing kiss on your lips, but, fuck, those tits. He’s had dreams about them, day and night – about groping and squeezing and burying his entire face in them. He can’t resist and bites and tongues and sucks, and by the time his hands get to them, pinch and roll and tweak your stiff nipples, his mouth descends down your tummy.

Plush lips passing below your belly button is the imaginary line when he decides to deliver your sinfully throbbing clit from its misery and slides a hand inside your panties.

Ugh, fucking God, his large hand covers your entire cunt.

He could make you come with his fucking pinky alone by the sheer size and girth of his digits, you’re sure. You’ve observed their length and thickness over the years often enough, mostly from the backseat of Baby when he drives, always careful not to get caught in your shameful leering, always wondering what they’d feel like curling inside of you. And God, the things he does with those ten weapons while they linger on the steering wheel drive you insane with wanton need during most trips. Even short ones to the grocery store have become a solid method of torture for you.

And you know they could reach that spongey, sensitive spot inside of you oh-so easily. But it’s his middle and pointer finger that glide through your drenched folds first.

Dean hums against your skin, right by your hip bone. Oh God, he fucking hums and groans – deep and rich and desperate. Desperate for you.

He steals a glance at your face, your beautifully contorted face of glowing pleasure, and he flashes you an appreciative smile of surprise, like he hadn’t fucking anticipated you being so wet for him – so ready.

All you manage is barely a nod before your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t have the energy to argue about his weird insecurities right now. And yes, they are weird, considering how the guy looks, but it’s more than just the mesmerizingly green eyes that cause you to feel lost among tall pines, the faint and golden freckles that dance on his skin, twinkling from the tip of his nose down to soft dips and dents of his chest, or the way his smile carries you home like the beam of a lighthouse without fail each time you’re lost.

No, it’s the things you can’t (and he can’t) see in a mirror that award him the title of the greatest man who ever lived. It’s the kindness, it’s the sweetness, it’s the caring. It’s his heart of gold, his courage, and his warmth.

So, how come Dean can’t ever see any of that? You always could because you’ve loved him since he laughed through your Shawshank quotes that very first week.

And now… Fuck.

Not even the inebriated double-vision makes up for the amount of hands and fingers and mouths and tongues you feel on you. How does he do that? Are there six of them or just the two you see?

Your head is spinning. You don’t know up from down anymore; it’s all one blurry swirl. Is it sideways?

But you know where you are and you can count again when his tongue dives into your channel and his lips seal around your bundle of nerves and fucking suck hard.

A taste of your own medicine, you’re sure.

You cry out at the intensity and almost come right there, especially with his delighted chuckles against your center, but you actually come when two of those long, thick, admirable fingers spreads your tight walls. He manages three or four pumps maximum before you fall apart at his mercy.

You scream his name as your frame shakes, and he kisses your pulsing center softly as if to soothe your aches. But as his heavy erection presses against the inside of your thigh, you know you want more.

The craving never stops.

Heaving chest meeting his, his glistening lips lower upon yours, and your tongue tastes what his did just seconds ago. He hovers above, his nose nudging your cheek forcing your eyes to open, encountering an insecure glint in his gaze.

“You sure about this?” His voice is so quiet, so raspy, the words are almost inaudible as if he doesn’t want to say them at all because he’s afraid of the answer.

Luckily, so are you.

In the darkest, most isolated depths of your mind, there’s still someone else. A guy you claim to love, and yet, you’ve tied his hands with ropes, muzzled him with duct tape, locked him in a dungeon, and somehow found your way into Dean’s bed. Your best friend and roommate Dean.

Yeah, no, there’s no excuse, no justification. But there’s no way back, either. What’s done is done. You’ve already done unspeakable things to each other – all of them rule-breaking. Sucking his cock? Fully your idea! God knows Dean surely didn’t fall dick-first into your mouth.

No, you want this. And moreover, you need to see it through.

Life isn’t just black and white, is it? It’s not a straight road. There’s sharp curves, and hunters are known to ignore the odd dangerous bend symbol.

So you kiss him deep and hard, because your answer would’ve been a shallow and soft uncertainty. You don’t know if it’s right, you assume it’s not, but you follow the craving and cave to its needs.

It needs Dean. Not anyone else. Dean. Not Dean Martin or James Dean, no. Dean Winchester.

Your hand snakes between heated and damp bodies and wraps around the forbidden fruit, lets his cockhead catch at your more-than-ready entrance.

Is it really all Eve’s fault? Probably. Now, though, it’s very much on Adam.

Dean pushes in.

Well, they call it a sin for a reason. The craving clearly doesn’t give a fuck, though.

When his tip taps your cervix, you gasp. Your pussy clenches around him, he groans into your neck, and you moan at that little jitter that runs through his body.

He kisses a path down to your tits as he slowly pulls out to his dickhead and thrusts back into you. Fuck. And well, from there on out, it all blends into a foggy whirl of limbs, bodily fluids, and an obscene soundtrack.

It all comes slowly back, however, when you wake in the morning. You feel the remnants of a wild night, the sheer soreness between your thighs, instantly.

You remember it started slow and tender when your eyes finally flutter open barely a few hours later, just at the break of dawn. It started with good, ol’ missionary – the ‘getting to know each other’ phase. You both learned what made the other tick, while his cock moved pleasantly inside of you like calm ocean waves, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

When you carefully slide out under his arm for a simple pee break, panic begins to creep in, recalling how you eventually rolled him onto his back and rode him like his goddamn name was Larry. Shit.

And Dean loved it. His freckled face and the huge grin, staring up at you in awe, is branded into your mind. There’s no way to unsee it now.

As you collect clothes strewn throughout the bunker like they are scavenger hunt items, you remember how things took a turn for the worse then – or for the better, depending one’s perspective on the subject, you suppose.

Eventually, you found your way onto all fours, Dean giving his goddamn everything behind you, pounding relentlessly into you with a bruising grip on your flesh.

Your fingers subconsciously touch your hips, your eyes follow and see bruises there. You hurry into the bathroom, glimpse at the mirror, and immediately see more. They’re everywhere – your throat, your collarbone, your tits, your waist, hips, arms, and thighs. Oh shit, even your ass got some.

There’s no way of hiding a sin this big.

You came five times. You fucking remember that. Never happened with anyone before, either.

Fucking asshole…

With a sobering (but heavily hungover) mind, your anger at your roommate returns. Why did he have to do it this way? Why put you in this awful position in the first place? Did he have to wait till you both were close to blackout drunk and an almost engagement to someone else?

No discussion of anything. No feelings. No future. No plans. No protection. No checking in. No responsibility. No sobriety. No brains.

Naturally, all of this was a decision made by two completely sane people. Why would you do any of that? Talking is overrated. No, this clusterfuck was obviously the best choice.

Shit, shit, shit…

Beating hearts in their purest form. That was there.

You remember how he looked at you, both spent, lying next to each other with your heads by the foot of the bed, feet resting where pillows go. No clue where they went.

His smile was so warm and happy, fingers still caressing skin and never losing touch. You gazed and smiled at each other like idiots till your eyes closed, knowing without words that this was forever now.

Dean still wakes up alone that morning.

Oh, his goddamn brain is buzzing. Without opening his eyes, Dean twists his face into the darkness of his mattress, hands searching for the pillow underneath his head.

Wait… Where is his fucking pillow?

His brow furrows slightly, his head pounding louder as if to try to rattle him awake and alert him to something. If he could only remember what that something is…

The only reason he’s somewhat awake is because his own snore woke him up after he almost choked on his damn spit. God, what a night. He probably should make a mental note to drink less. Those hangovers aren’t getting easier to handle with progressing age.

Little goosebumps spread on his skin when a soft, cool breeze hits the exposed parts of his body. Something is odd, though. Why is it so damn cold? And why is his blanket only barely covering his bottom half?

And why the fuck is he naked? He’s not usually a birthday suit sleeper. A purple nightgown, a shirt and boxers, maybe even a pair of sweats, sure, but he only ever sleeps naked when he’s had se–

Shit!

Dean jolts up in bed, pupils wide and head swirling. He stretches his heavy and tired eyes with strain, forcing them to stay open. Jesus, he feels like a truck ran over him, only realizing then that said truck carried your goddamn license plates.

Shaking his head vigorously, he tries to find his orientation. He almost thinks he’s in a different room before realizing he’s slept upside down in his own bed. He rolls onto his back and sits up, blinking his eyes awake a little further.

The whole night comes crashing back to him then, but he starts to doubt the realness of it all when he can’t find you next to him. There’s just an empty spot.

Looking for evidence, he scans the room. He only finds some of his own clothes strewn across the floor, but none of yours till he feels something tangled around his ankle. Are those his boxers?

Nope! That’s your underwear. How did it get– Never mind. There are more important things to figure out now. First and foremost, where the hell are you?

With a groan, he swings his legs off the bed, bare feet landing on the cold ground. He runs a palm through his hair and rubs his face, even patting his own cheeks to wake up more. His head is fucking killing him. But it’s not the only thing aching.

Lifting the sheet slightly from his lap, he takes a quick peek. Oh, poor guy’s been certainly through a lot last night. Is that a bruise? How did that ha– Nope, never mind that, either. He’s surprised at his own stamina, though. A guy his age? Drunk? He mentally pats himself on the back for it, although he knows the craving did most of the work for him.

Nonetheless, his pride is quickly overshadowed by your absence.

His hand grabs his watch on the nightstand. Almost noon.

Well, your French leave makes a little more sense now. You probably had to pee. His own bladder feels goddamn full, the bottle of whiskey finally finding its exit again. His stomach is growling, too. Maybe you were hungry? Dean knows you practically wake up starving every morning and are unbearable till he stuffs that first stripe of bacon into your mouth.

However, he notices the eerie quiet of the bunker. There’s no smell of awaiting breakfast in the kitchen wafting down the long hallways. There are no sounds of clattering dishes, clinking cutlery, a running shower, or the flush of a toilet.

Silence.

And if you really got up for a bathroom and food break, why are your jeans gone? He knows he took them off in this room and not anywhere else. A perfectly fine and fresh flannel is hung over the chair by his small desk.

Not to complain, but wouldn’t it have been easier if you’d just thrown that one on instead of forcing yourself back into something skin-tight?

Dean’s not a complete idiot, however. He knows those aren’t good signs, and his chest starts to constrict, squeezing the air from his lungs. His mind races, green and red eyes flickering around desperately for answers.

You wouldn’t leave like that, would you? Not after–

“I love you,” Dean whispered, his forehead resting against yours when he spilled into you, your walls still gripping him tight.

“I love you, too,” you replied and could barely finish your answer before his lips claimed yours again.    

No, you wouldn’t do that. It’s not the version of you he knows like the back of his hand. That’s not his best friend.

But then, his stomach overflows with guilt, the hows and whys of the night seeping into every corner of his mind and settling in his bones.

Fuck.

Oh, there had to have been another way, right? He shouldn’t have done what he did, shouldn’t have given into the craving so recklessly. He knew it was wrong. Everything was wrong. This was never supposed to happen this way.

It was supposed to be magical and memorable. The start of something great.

It still was for Dean, although your disappearance makes him unsure. Maybe it wasn’t all that magical for you.

Dean kissed you, which was a forgivable offense. And sure, you kissed him back. But was either of you in the right state of mind? Probably not.

And Dean knows he should’ve stopped it all there, should’ve slowed down, looked at you, and talked to you about it. About next steps, futures, plans. None of that happened.

Last night, after his confession, he could see you needed time to think, a night to sleep it over, gather your bearings with a sober mind. But Dean was scared of letting go. What would he have done if you hadn’t come back? But he didn’t listen to the warning.

The craving didn’t want to risk losing you and clearly didn’t give a damn about consequences.

But Dean does. He cares a fucking lot. And moreover, now he has to live with the damn consequences of its actions and not the stupid craving.

Right now, it’s achingly empty. Dean knows it means you’re not around.

Still, he rises from the bed and starts to pad down the hallways of the bunker in search of you. He needs to talk to you, find you, do whatever it takes to fix this mess. He wants to call you, but his phone is missing, too.

It happens sometimes. Usually, either you or Sam call him to find it, but no one’s here anymore. He’s all alone and realizes then that he’ll probably die this way – slipping pathetically in the bathroom with a disturbing alcohol level in his blood, his phone out of reach, lost somewhere between couch cushions. You or Sam will probably stumble upon his corpse weeks, maybe months later, and only find the flesh rotting from his bones.

Yup, he’s sure that’s it. Lovely end to a shitty life.

With a deep sigh stuck in his throat, Dean follows the path of destruction, a trail of lost clothing items leading him toward the kitchen before he picks up your bra from the floor.

He stops in his tracks when he hears the heavy thud of the garage door. His heart sings in relief. Food run! You probably went to fetch breakfast. Yeah, that must be it.

“Dean? Y/N?”

Sam.

Dean’s shoulders slump, the hopeful smile on his face faltering. He rubs his mouth with his fingers, his mind spinning. Not a minute later, Sam rounds the corner and meets him in front of the kitchen.

“Dean?” Sam then freezes and instantly squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head exasperatedly. “Dude! Why are you naked?!”

“Oh.” Dean blushes with a slight fluster, but his usual shameless grin is missing. He’s too fucking depressed for a witty response. “Hang on.”

Even Sam notices the tension and somber atmosphere when he hears Dean plodding back to his room, but he chalks it off to last night’s news. He slowly opens his hazel eyes and takes a quick scan of the kitchen.

Empty bottle of whiskey on the counter, flannel on the floor, boots in the hallway.

But wait… Is that one of your shoes?

Dean then comes back in a pair of gray sweats and a black henley, still carrying your bra in his hand as if it would help him find you like a dowsing rod.

“Rough night?” Sam quirks a brow at his older brother, a small smile of amusement on his face. It’s not the first time he found Dean like this, after all.

“Good night. Rough morning,” the older Winchester replies soberly.

“Dude, what happened? When did you have time to meet a hook-up after I drove you home last night?” Sam creases his brow, but the sinking feeling in his gut already confirms it. He knows those are your shoes, just like he knows that’s your bra in his brother’s hand. Sam’s been your laundry buddy for close to five years.

“I-I… I slept with her, Sam,” Dean confesses and claps his mouth like he’s done the last time he’s confessed something. He expects it to go about the same.

But Sam surprises him with calmness. “Yeah, I-I figured,” he admits, nodding, and takes another glimpse down the hall behind Dean. “Where is she? Still sleeping? Did she break up with Trey?”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes. Leave it to Sam to dive right into the uncomfortableness. Solely mentioning the name burns a hole into his heart. What if you went back to him?

“No, uh, I don’t know where she is. I just woke up,” Dean says slowly and licks his chapped lips. “I-… I think she left. For good. I think she-… you know.”

Dean swallows the thick lump in his dry throat, while Sam sits with the information for a minute.

“Dean, why–“ Sam shakes his head, collecting his thoughts. “Why didn’t you guys just talk? I mean, what happened?”

“Oh, yeah, great idea, Sammy!” Dean scoffs with a voice full of bark. “You think I haven’t thought about that? Does anything about this look planned to you? I mean, hell! You’re the one who told me to use my last chance and tell her in the first place!”

“I didn’t mean this,” Sam counters, exasperated. “I meant, use your mouth, idiot, not your–“ He frowns when he notices the rising smirk on his older brother’s face. “Dude, don’t even say it.”

“Fine.” Dean rolls his eyes a little and sighs. “Look, I need to find her and talk to her. Can you call my cell? I lost it somewhere.”

“Dude, again?”

“Just-… Would you call?” Dean massages his aching temples.

“You know, my worst nightmare is finding you dead down here one day, just rotting away,” Sam mutters wryly as he makes the call.

“Yeah, you and me both,” is all Dean says.

His ears then pick up the faint buzzing noises of his phone, only growing louder as the brothers follow it all the way to the library. His cell rests neatly on the wooden table, but he knows he hasn’t put it there.

Besides, underneath it is a folded piece of yellow, legal-pad paper that smells like you.

Dean grabs both phone and letter, his eyes fixing on the only two words there. The corners of his mouth quirk to a faint smile, but it’s sad in nature. He’s only laughing to cope with the loss of you. His black soul is rejoicing – it’s been right all along. Hallelujah!

I’m sorry.

You’re sorry. But Dean doesn’t know for what exactly. For sleeping with him? For telling him you loved him? For leaving?

Or is it all of the above?

“What does it say?” Sam’s voice keeps him from jumping straight into a spiral of sorrow.

“That she left,” Dean replies and crumples the paper in his hand, tossing it on the floor.

He tries calling you, but there’s no answer. And even when Sam tries, you don’t pick up.

“Voicemail again,” Sam says after his third try and clears his throat with lacking subtleness. “She-, uh, she probably forgot to charge it again.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it…” Dean pats his little brother’s shoulder as he saunters past him.

“Dean, where are you going?”

“Look, I just wanna be alone right now,” Dean says, his voice laden with emotion he tries to hold back. “I’ve got a raging headache, I smell like a liquor store…”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” Sam nods with understanding. He knows Dean’s shutting down now. “Can I do anything?”

“Yeah, leave,” Dean huffs bitterly, the door to his room slamming shut soon after.

The bunker is cold and dark when you trudge down the metal steps.

There’s just blackness, not a light on except for a small table lamp in the library. Your gaze lands on the giant table, both phone and your note gone. You know he must’ve found it by now; you assumed he would’ve.

Still, your heart cracks at the thought.

You should’ve been clearer with your message. But there was no time, and your head had been spinning. Now, though, the craving’s gone.

There’s finally clarity.

It replaces the feverish longing. It tells you exactly what your heart needs – Dean. Not in a carnal, all-consuming way but in the purest form of love. He’s the air you breathe.

You find the door of his room ajar, but it’s dark inside, too – and empty. You’ve checked the garage, though, and saw Baby parked in her usual spot, so you know its green-eyed owner can’t be far.

And of all places he could’ve been – the shooting range to take his anger out, the kitchen to eat his feelings, or the cave to drown his sorrows – you find him in your room.

He sits on the freezing floor by the foot of your bed like a sad pile of forgotten laundry. When his gaze lifts to you in the doorframe, his brow furrows a tiny bit as if not sure he’s seeing a ghost.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice close to a croak, but Dean averts his eyes as if seeing you pains him. And, well, that pains you.

“You-, uh, you forgot something?” He clears his throat to clear his feelings and seem casual. You don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling with that mask – again, sadly sitting on the floor in your room – but it sure ain’t you.

“Yeah, you,” you reply, a faint smile curving your lips. You step closer and kneel down in front of him, cupping his confused face in your palms as you brush your lips tentatively against his.

“I-… I don’t understand,” Dean says, the surprise still visible in the wrinkles of his brow when you pull back an inch. “Look, if you’ve changed your mind again–“

“No, Dean…” You shake your head and kiss the creases on his forehead. “I never changed my mind, okay? I meant what I said last night. I love you.”

His mouth is agape for a heartbeat, knitted brow ironing out with realization. “So, you’re staying?”

“Yeah. It's you. No contest.” You smile softly, the happiness in your veins almost forcing you to beam, but your other half doesn’t seem to be quite there yet.

“Then why did you leave?”

With a heavy sigh, you slump back against the footboard, taking a seat next to him. “I know. I’m sorry. I panicked when I woke up,” you explain. “I just-… I had to end it, you know?”

Dean’s brow raises with understanding. Oh.

“You broke up with him?”

You nod, swallowing. It hasn’t exactly been a fun day for you, either.

“I went to his hotel, but he’d already checked out. So, I went to the airport, but his flight was gone too,” you tell him. “I wanted to call you, but I forgot to charge my phone. My battery was dead.”

Dammit. Of course Sam was right.

“And, uhm, that’s when I bought a ticket and flew there.”

“You flew to Michigan?!”

Well, of all the scenarios that swirled around his head the past twenty-four hours, this hadn’t exactly been one of them. Sure, he’d buy you going after your boyfriend to be with him, but to break up with him?

“Wouldn’t a text done it?”

“Dean!” Gasping, you slap his arm scoldingly. “I know you don’t mean that. Look, I had to, okay? The guy wanted to propose to me, the least I could do is be honest and face him. I didn’t want to start something… new without ending it first, you know? Not that any of this was good, to begin with���”

Dean lifts a brow, pursing his lips. “So, last night wasn’t… good?”

You fix him with a glare. “Not the point, dude!” You shake your head at him. “Look, last night was–… You were–… It was–“

“Magical?” Dean offers with a small, puckish smile.

“Sure,” you relent, smiling internally at his childishness. Or is it cute? “I just meant it wasn’t ideal.”

“Yeah, uhm, I know. I’m sorry. Really. I am,” Dean says and meets your eyes. “So, did you tell him? About… you know?”

You exhale a long sigh. “Well, I didn’t want to. Not because I’m a coward and didn’t want to face the consequences, I just figured I was already cutting a wound. No need to pour salt into it, right?”

“Makes sense,” Dean agrees quietly.

“Yeah, well, that plan kinda went out the window thanks to your artwork on my neck,” you mutter a bit reproachfully, but a small smile still flashes on your lips. You know damn well he made it a point last night to mark you.

“Right, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, too,” he says and clears his throat, but it’s the apology he doesn’t really mean. He’s not even a little bit sorry about that. The only thing he feels sorry for is making you go through all of that.

“Please, like you mean that.” You snort, giggling. Dean clicks his tongue, his cheeks reddening guiltily. “Anyways, that whole thing then led to a five-hour break-up talk.”

“Five hours?!” Dean wildly furrows his brow. “What’s taking so long? I mean, you tell them you don’t love them, and you leave.”

You frown slightly and deadpan, “Right, forgot you’re the relationship expert. Have you ever actually broken up with someone?”

Well… Cassie broke it off with him. Lisa, too. But to be fair, both of those break-ups combined didn’t last more than ten minutes – tops.

“Thought so.” You smirk winningly.

“Alright, congrats. You’re a saint,” Dean huffs jokingly.

“Hardly,” you scoff and find his gaze. “Dean, I still cheated. That’s not a good thing.”

“No, I know. But–“

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you, right?”

Stumped, Dean arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course not. Wait, is that something you’re actually worried about? That I would think that?”

You meekly shrug your shoulders, playing with your fingers in your lap. “Well, yeah…”

Dean wets his lips for a brief moment of contemplation before his palm cups the back of your head and pulls you to him for a searing kiss. It’s deep and soft and hungry all the same. Most of all, it’s pure. It feels like the first kiss that isn’t controlled by the craving.

It’s just love now.

“I love you,” Dean says breathlessly as soon as he draws back from your lips, offering you one of his charming smiles full of mischief. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I know, alright? Don’t you worry about that.”

You nod and claim his lips again.

“So, uh, what d’you say? Wanna hit Vegas tomorrow? Stop by a chapel?” Dean suggests, causing your brow to raise significantly.

“Oh, you were actually serious about that?”

Dean chuckles. Yeah, he wouldn’t have necessarily believed him either, but it’s still true. He’s not even a little bit afraid of the commitment. In fact, he craves it.

“Yeah, I was. Meant every word I said,” he confirms with a big grin. “You wanna get married? We’ll do it. Hell, anything you want, just tell me, and I make it happen, sweetheart.”

“Huh… Anything?” A tiny smirk curves your lips.

Dean sighs playfully and rolls his eyes. “Jesus, stepped right into that one, didn’t I? So, you wanna get married? What is it? Atlantic City? You know that place is a shithole, right? Even Jersey thinks so…”

“No, Dean, nothing like that.” You laugh, shaking your head with pink cheeks. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure I wanna get married.”

Dean nods, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Okay, just figured you’d-, you know, since…”

“No, I mean, I would’ve said yes.”

“Huh.” Dean scratches the back of his head a little too anxiously. “Gotta say, kinda hard not to take it the wrong way here.”

You stifle a chuckle. “I promise it’s not that. I’d marry you in a heartbeat, okay? I’m just telling you it’s not a priority. You wanna get married tomorrow, we’ll get married. What d’you want? Elvis? You know they do weddings without him there too, right? I heard they even have a drive-through chapel. We could get married in the Impala.”

Dean blinks at you for a minute before he shakes his head clear. “Okay, first of all, love that idea. Second… you know, maybe you’re right. Let’s slow down a little. I don’t wanna go on a first date with my wife.”

You laugh, nodding. “Kinda my point.”

“Alright, what d’you wanna do, huh? We could look for a place topside, like Sammy and Eileen,” Dean proposes, but you wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t wanna leave the bunker,” you state. “Do you know how much rent we’d pay for a place this size topside?”

Dean chuckles a little. “We could downsize, you know? I mean, it’s just the two of us.”

“Yeah, but where would we play hall ball? Do I need to remind you this place has a bowling alley and a shooting range? I can’t downsize. I’m used to luxury now.”

A deep laugh rumbles through Dean’s chest at that, remembering only more reasons why he loves you – why you’re the one. “Alright, we’ll stay, princess.”

“Look, all I want is to be with you and have fun adventures. We’re pretty good at that, you know?” you tell him with a teasing smile, seeing Dean nod in agreement. “So… how serious were you about me knocking you out and dragging you on a plane?”

Groaning, Dean throws his head back, pounding it softly against the wooden bed frame. “Oh, c’mon! You sure I can’t just knock you up? We do have enough rooms for a couple of ‘em…”

You snort a laugh at his theatrical reaction. “A, I’m sure. And B, how’s that slowing down, huh? Besides, I already booked the tickets. Our plane leaves tomorrow at eight. Pack your bathing suit ‘cause we’re going to Hawaii.”

Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you peck his scruffy cheek, while Dean rubs a palm across his face, but he can hardly hide the smile underneath it, although his heart is fluttering quite nervously.

“Okay, let’s do it, I guess. Better call Sam for a strong spell to knock me out, though.” Dean laughs a little.

“How about we just go to the pharmacy before we pull out the hex bags, huh?” you suggest gently, smiling in amusement. Only a Winchester would propose such a ridiculous thing. “And you also have me by your side, okay? I think it’s about time Dean Winchester joins the mile high club, don’t you?”

Dean purses his lips but can’t stop the smirk from splitting his cheeks. “Well, speaking of–“ He cradles your head and leans closer, gently pushing you down till your back touches the floor and your giggles fill the room. “You left a hickey on my dick. How about I repay the favor?”

Without another word, his lips find yours, and you cave to craving once more. Dean hopes he can satiate it for the rest of his life.

Quite a ride, but we got to our HEA 😜💕 Let me know all your precious thoughts. Feedback is very appreciated!

I've already written a follow-up one-shot for these two and may have been thinking of a Hawaii-themed miniseries (after all, the Winchesters never hunted in that state, so there surely might be something supernatural there 😉)

🚀 Join Patreon for more stories & read ahead on current series

Tag List Pt. 1:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@impala67rollingthroughtown @star-yawnznn @spnaquakindgdom @thej2report @americanvenom13

@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @little-diable @kr804573

[botanicalsword]

Relationship ✧ who is the 'most/ least __' in this relationship ✧ Marks Chart ✧ A quick note on Marks Chart ✧

1. How to cast a Marks Chart ?  >> Handbook: How to cast a Marks Chart  1. Generate a Davison Chart between Person A + Person B, 2. then generate a Davison Chart between (Natal of A) + (Davison Chart of A & B) = that’s the Person A’s Marks Chart

(Same as Person B's)

Review your Marks Chart with someone close to you, whether it's a coworker, partner, lover, or friend.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

✧ The 'most/ least ____' in this connection  If Person A's Moon in _____ in Mark Chart , they are _____

🔸Most Direct

Moon in Aries - If they’re interested, they’ll make a move.

🔸Quickest to Heat Up

Moon in Aries - They get excited in an instant.

🔸Quickest to Lose Interest

Moon in Aries - They can become disinterested just as quickly.

🔸Most Practical

Moon in Taurus/ Virgo  - One is hands-on, while the other offers material support.

🔸Least Emotionally Aware

Moon in Taurus - They often don’t grasp the concept of emotional value.

🔸Most Joyful

Moon in Gemini - They’re always laughing and enjoying life.

🔸Best Friendships that Blossom into Love

Moon in Gemini - They bring a light-hearted, humorous, and playful vibe.

🔸Most Affectionate

Moon in Cancer - They love hugs, kisses, and being lifted up.

🔸Most Dominant & Protective

Moon in Leo - They’ll defend their partner but expect to be listened to.

🔸Most Image-Conscious

Moon in Libra - They place a high value on appearances.

🔸Most Complex

Moon in Scorpio - They find happiness in their connection’s struggles.

🔸Purest Love

Moon in Aquarius - Their love is clear and selfless.

>> Get your Marks Chart Reading

🔸Least Focused on Physicality

Moon in Aquarius - As long as the mind is engaged, physical connection matters less.

🔸Most Sensitive

Moon in Pisces  - They’re usually fine with others but become quite sensitive with their partner.

🔸Best Performers

Moon in Pisces - Every day feels like a rehearsal for a romantic play.

🔸Most Misleading

Moon in Capricorn - They seem serious but have a playful side.

🔸Most Strategic

Moon in Capricorn - While you think one step ahead, they’ve already planned for the long game.

🔸Most Secretive

Moon in Scorpio - They often have hidden motives.

🔸Most Adventurous

Moon in Sagittarius - They’re eager to explore new experiences together.

>> Read full version >> Marks Chart Reading

>> ✧  Marks Chart ♡ their POV in this relationship • Intro  >> ✧  Marks Chart ♡ their thoughts & feelings (Part I)   >> ✧ Marks Chart • Tough feeling & Challenges in this connection >> ✧ Marks Chart ♡ What’s their love language in this connection? >> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Exclusive access : Patreon

[shirecorn]

Shirecorn's Ponyverse Masterpost

So for the last 2 months I've fixated on doing redesigns based somewhat loosely on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I've had so much fun filling in the gaps and extrapolating until my version is less of a redesign and more of an AU.

"Ponies" are three species of sentient hoofed creatures that populate Equestria. They worship giant goddesses that fill the sky and ferry the moon and sun across the world.

Tag navigation

#Shire draws mlp - drawings only. Leaves out the lore

#Skyscraper gods lore - drawings, posts, and asks that expand on the world. Talks about biology, genetics, ritual, society, politics, religion, but mostly creature design and magic.

#Skyscraper Gods - Art, asks, posts, and fanart! Everything to do with both my little pony canon and my version of things. Includes drawings without lore, and lore without drawings. This is the tag to browse to make sure you see it all

Characters

In progress: Discord

○ The Mane Six ○ All Alicorns,

○ Rarity ○ Fluttershy ○ Flutterbat ○ Applejack ○ Pinkie Pie ○ Pinkie Pie Pegasus ○ Rainbow Dash ○ Twilight Sparkle ○ Raritwi ○ Spike

○ Princess Celestia + Princess Luna ○ Princess Cadance + Shining Armor + Flurry Heart ○ Sunset Shimmer ○ Sunburst ○ Apple Bloom + Scootaloo + Sweetie Belle (Cutie Mark Crusaders) ○ Big Macintosh/Ochard Blossom (she is a woman) ○ Granny Smith ○ Mr & Mrs Cake + Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake ○ Maud Pie + Mudbriar ○ Trixie Lulamoon + Starlight Glimmer ○ Cozy Glow ○ Zephyr Breeze ○ Escape Room Guy + Dusty Pages ○ Berry Punch/Berryshine ○ Vapor Trail ○ Bulk Biceps ○ Tempest Shadow ○ Flim and Flam ○ Queen Chrysalis + Thorax + Ocellus (Changelings) ○ Autumn Blaze (kirin) ○ Rain Shine (kirin leader) ○ Sky Beak (hippogriff) ○ Starcatcher and Skywishes (G3)

Lore

○ The 3 pony species ○ Breeding/genetics ○ The 4 Alicorns stories ○ Gods of non-pony species? Seapony god? ○ Unicorn Horns: Starlight physics, Different shapes, Alicorn horns, Horn colors, ○ Where did Spike come from? (1) (2) ○ Your daughter has won the favor of God (fic) ○ Nightmare moon playlist ○ Cutie marks are cultural not physical: (1) (2) ○ Starlight Glimmer's hometown and her cult ○ Alicorns don't fit inside buildings ○ Discord is a headache to behold ○ Government in the world of gods ○ Gender and matriarchy ○ Scootaloo's flightless disability ○ Equestria Girls Vs Skyscraper Gods, existential horror ○ Pinkie Pie breaks the forth wall because she hopped worlds once ○ Vampire fruit bat ecology and virus ○ How ponies caught it

Meta

○ Using Skyscraper Gods as inspiration (2) ○ Why I like expanding on MLP: its simplicity ○ MLP Creature designs are already good ○ If you don't like my designs ○ I'm just having fun: (1) (2) ○ Mane 6 doodle to finished design ○ After ponies ○ Designing based on birds and animals ○ Starcatcher dove

Shitposts and Doodles

○ My fursona in mlp style ○ Daytime! Nighttime! ○ Baby god ○ Local horse fistfights the sun ○ Shining armor alicorn ○ Sunset shimmer becomes god (2) ○ Poodle rarity ○ Zephyr Breeze thinks RD is a man ○ Season 9 ○ Why is EQ an hour long ○ Being held at gunpoint to watch Equestria Girls ○ World's gayest dash ○ 18 pounds of crake

Fanart by others

○ Fanart tag

Commissions

○ People request a lot and that normal ○ Prices are low because I'm already fixated

Ko-fi requests || Classic commissions

Shirecorn Discord

Join any tier of my patreon to access my art discord

○ See WIPs, discussion, the occasional meltdown, and more ○ The content is all done through discord, so if the patreon looks dead it's all just on the server instead.

I hope you enjoy seeing my MLP creations as much as I enjoy making them!

[pierisim]

Q&A

Hi ! I am making this post because I'm not very active here, not to say not active at all here and I see some of you have questions or experiencing some different bugs.

 First of all I want to thank you for the kind messages I have received, it really means a lot even if I see your messages only once in a while <3

I will update this post if new issues occur with time so don’t hesitate to check this if you have issues, maybe the answer is already here :)

I have been through all your notes and try to report the issues that happened to several players. If not mentioned underneath, it may be something of a personal issue that comes from conflict with other cc you have installed or just from the game itself as we all know sometimes The Sims 4 can be a little funny ! 

And also for several reasons like not enough time etc, I am not making submission for cc unfortunately ! 

TIPS & TRICKS

Appliances disappearing when placed on counters : 

You have to make sure the ‘Auto Counter’ is off because it makes disappear cc appliances

- “packages ending by “texture” ” : 

To make the cc set take less space in your hard drive, I try to make some similar objects sharing the same textures. The game will only load one set of textures for several items instead of multiple times the same texture for each item. This technique requires the package file having the textures in your mod folder if you use the unmerged version. To make it easier to spot it, I added “texture” at the end of the name of it. If you use the merged version, you don’t have to worry about anything. 

If the package with the textures is missing, you will have the items in purple with question marks in your game.

TECHNICAL ISSUES

- Purple items with question marks : 

As mentioned above, make sure to have the packages ending by “textures” in your mod folder.

- Wallpapers with question marks :

After the DirectX 11 update, a lot of wallpapers broke. I have updated all of them and reuploaded my Patreon and CurseForge. If you encounter this issue, try to redownload them.

Also, for some reason, the merged version keeps this issue for some players. Try the unmerged version to see if it solves the issue. Unfortunately for some people there is no solution found for this issue as it works fine for the majority of players.

- Windows with question marks :

Auntie Vera’s windows has no solution found as it works for a majority of players but is not working for some without any reason..

The other windows with purple and question marks can happen if you use the merged version. Often, the unmerged version solves the issue.

- Domaine du Clos Kitchen : 

I have made some tests with the cabinets and dishwashers and everything works fine on my side. Maybe you can try downloading the unmerged version if that is not the one you’re using. Otherwise I don’t have any clue on what can cause this issue.

- Auntie Vera Plumbing : 

while creating the plumbing, I’ve made a mistake on the texture size which happened to create loading issues or stuff like that. The problem has been solved since, you can redownload it for updated plumbing ! 

RANDOM

- Extensions from previous sets : 

I won’t do extra items for the past sets as, but you can do them for yourself if you want too ! 

- Missing items:

If some items are missing, it may be because they require a specific stuff pack. I tend to make them base game as much as possible, and if not, I will mention it in the description of each set. Also, I can make mistakes so make sure to search by the name of the set in your game just in case.

- Beddings score : 

I won’t update previous beddings scores but I took this comment in consideration and the recent and future beddings have higher scores.

- Dark Shadows on cabinets or similar items :

While creating items like fridges etc, I delete occluders so it doesn’t cast strong shadows on elements above like the cabinets. The occluders are used by the game to create more realistic shadows with lights if I’m right, but for some specific items like fridges I use to delete them. That’s why you may have hard shadows while placing fridges from the game under fridge nook cabinets for example. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: february 2025

I can't believe that with all the bullshit nonsense of this year I've managed to read ten book a month for two months in a row. it's not on purpose but it's crazy that it's happened twice!

what have I been reading?

The Art of Frugal Hedonism: A Guide to Spending Less While Enjoying Everything More (Annie Raser-Rowland w/ Adam Grubb, 2017; audiobook read by Alice Ansara, 2024) - this was my first audiobook, and it was a doozy. the short version is that this book sucked and made me so, so mad. I really hoped to have my scathing haterade-fueled review up on patreon by now so that I could link it, but that hasn't panned out because I just have too much to say about these out of touch cunts offering the world's least qualified financial advice. "just take a leisurely twelve hour hike to a train station instead of going on vacation" kill yourself!!!

The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Modern Irrationality (Amanda Montell, 2024) - I quite liked Montell's previous book, Cultish, but unfortunately I fear Magical Overthinking was a bit of a flop for me. I can't help but feel that the ideal target demographic is extremely anxious women in their teens and early 20s who need a compassionate explanation of why they should spend less time on Twitter and TikTok, and I'm afraid that shrimply isn't me.

The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World (Robin Wall Kimmerer, 2024; audiobook read by the author) - this was, unintentionally, a lovely little counterpoint to Frugal Hedonism. where Raser-Rowland and Grubb focus deeply on individual consumption habits and have a bad penchant of commodifying human interaction, Potawatomi botanist Kimmerer emphasizes the need for structural environmental change that can come by embracing Indigenous models of viewing the earth and its resources as members of crucial members of the family deserving of respect. a thoughtful and lovely balm to the bullshit!

My Year of Rest and Relaxation (Ottessa Moshfegh, 2018) - a book about the original queen of giving us nothing, as our protagonist goes to increasingly drastic lengths to spend as much time as possible asleep and disengaged from anything more complicated than acquiring more prescription pills. what can I say? I love books about miserable rich white women rotting in their own self-absorption.

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend (Emma R. Alban, 2024) - this was my patreonites' pick for my romance novel of the month, and I'll admit I went in nervous - historical romance novels are often not my thing, and the Taylor Swift lyric for the title was a red flag. but you know what? this was a romp. I was entertained. dare I say I was even charmed. sure, it falls into the common historical queer romance pitfall of emphasizing the vague threat of period-typical homophobia while assuring us that every important character just so happens to be startlingly cool with homosexuality, but whatever - I didn't come here to see these girls get hatecrimed by their own parents, alright? I wasn't planning to read the sequel, but it turns out it's a VERY direct follow up where the girls from this book hatch an INSANE plan to (SPOILER ALERT) get their male cousins to fall in gay love so that they can lavender marry each other's cousins and live happily ever after. INSANE! I love it here.

Dawn (Octavia E. Butler, 1987) - on the one hand, I'm a little heartbroken. this marks the beginning of the last of Butler's series that I haven't read; after Adulthood Rites and Imago, I'll have read everything she published in her too-short life, with no new works to look forward to ever again. but on the other hand: MAN, am I glad I saved this one for last. this book has it all: humanity's near-extinction. aliens. psychic tentacle threesomes. maybe the biggest L that any of Butler's heroines ever took. it's wild out here! cannot wait to see where we're going with this.

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao, 2021) - this was a reread to prep for the sequel, Heavenly Tyrant, which came out in December, and MAN am I glad I decided to check back in with the first book. I really thought I remembered the broad strokes of the plot well enough, but I really did not remember just how blood-spittingly bugfuck viscous Zetian and her two boyfriends are. of the three people in this throuple, the nicest one is the guy who murdered his brothers and dad in cold blood. and I think that's awesome! cannot wait to see what these absolute freaks are up to now, and my hold cannot come into the library quickly enough.

Pardon My Frenchie (Farrah Rochon, 2024) - okay. listen. on paper I shouldn't like this book. the male love interest is boring at best and a full-blown shithead at worst. the biggest driver of the plot is the love interests' dogs going crazy levels of viral. the sex is minimal and nothing to write home about. and yet. AND YET. our female lead, Ashanti, is simply so charming and earnest and plucky that I adored her immediately. girl lost both her parents on the same day, had to drop out of veterinary school to raise her twin younger sisters, and is struggling to run the world's most plush doggy day care AND run a successful side business selling homemade dog biscuits. truly I just want anything to go right for her, ever. she's never even been eaten out prior to this book, and that makes me so, SO sad for her. I may not like her boyfriend, but at least he'll get her off, and that counts for something. overall, it's Ashanti's storyline about learning how to prioritize what's important to her and let some obligations go instead of clinging madly to everything that really got me through and won me over. plus, this book bypassed by usual kneejerk dislike of obnoxiously cutesy plot device pets in romance novels by making the dogs actually completely integral to the story and the characters - Ashanti is hugely defined by her adoration of every dog she meets - in a way that I really enjoy. will I read the upcoming sequel, Pugs and Kisses? fuck it. maybe.

White Feminism: From the Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind (Koa Beck, 2019) - Beck's book falls in a really sweet spot of building very well on a lot of feminism 101 to actually meaningfully discuss new concepts without being redundant. okay, yes, you've heard "white feminism" is bad, but do you know why? Beck has some of the most well laid-out explanations I've ever encountered, thoroughly detailing the ways in which white feminism reject collectivist anti-capitalist action in favor of individual advancement within the status quo. plus there is, as promised, a great historical throughline, contrasting the actions of historical middle and upper class white feminists against those of actions largely headed up by women who are Black, brown, Jewish, and/or immigrants who served entire communities. the takedown of "lean in" office girlboss culture is particularly killer.

Acts of Service (Lillian Fishman, 2022) - a short novel, ideal for reading in a couple hours if you love mess and happen to be trapped in various airports and flights with not much else to do! I was expecting another entry in the obnoxiously disaffected young woman genre and was pleasantly surprised by how curious and engaged our protagonist, Eve, actually is! much like Edie of Luster, I think she's gonna be alright once this deranged throuple situation blows over. ultimately I don't know if the conclusion of the novel hit for me as well as Luster did, and when I got to the end of the book I did kind of find myself going damn... and what was the point of all that? I have no idea, but it was well-crafted and I'm glad that I didn't read this like six months ago because it probably would have killed me with toxic horny poisoning at that point in my life. I'm normal now.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Bangle of Sun and Moon
Wondrous item, uncommon (requires attunement) ___ This bangle features a personified sun and moon, transitioning from gold to silver midway through the band. Three small diamonds mark their eyes. While wearing the bangle, you always know how long it is until sunrise, sunset, midday, and midnight. The bangle has 3 charges and regains 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. While wearing it, you can expend 2 of the bangle’s charges to cast the “daylight” spell from it. Alternatively, you can expend 1 or more of the bangle’s charges to cast the “moonbeam” spell from it (save DC 13). For 1 charge, you cast the 2nd-level version of the spell. You can increase the spell slot level by one for each additional charge you expend. When you expend 2 or more charges to cast “moonbeam” in this way, you can choose whether the spell’s damage type is cold, fire, or radiant. If you have 11 or more levels in the druid class and are wearing this bangle, you can expend 3 charges from the bangle to cast the “sunbeam” spell from it (save DC 13). When you do, there is a permanent and cumulative 25 percent chance that the bangle is destroyed when the spell ends. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[anim-ttrpgs]

Patreon Poll and Kickstarter Funds Update

Alright, we’ve had a weekend to rest and now it’s time to get back to work. We already have almost ten new snoops done and ready to be put in the rulebook, "FORIVA: The Angel Game" is almost completely reworked and ready for patreon re-release, and we might have new merchandise coming soon.

As soon as "FORIVA: The Angel Game" is done, we still start back work on editing the finished sections of the rulebook.

I have started brainstorming work on the Living Doll playable supernatural characters type, as well as the Talking Dog and several other stretch goals.

I’ll do anything to put off finishing these examples of play..

We are still waiting on more than 60 backers to finish their backer surveys, so we aren’t sending out emails regarding the custom rewards yet, we want to try to be able to do that all at once if possible. Even if all the backer surveys had been completed, we would still wait on a lot of the emails, because we would want to confirm our funds first before we tell our team artists to get to work on custom rewards. Kickstarter won’t actually give us the money until at least 2 weeks after the end of the campaign. We plan to pay them up front, so we gotta have the money before they start seriously working on the project.

Speaking of that, there are three backers from whom Kickstarter has been unable to collect payment. At the time of writing this, this accounts for about $371 of our funding. On Friday, May 17th, if these payments have not been resolved, Kickstarter will cancel them.

That means we won’t get the money and those backers won’t get their rewards. It’s probably just a matter of the bank marking their payment as suspicious, but it needs to be resolved before May 17th. If you’re a backer and you’re reading this, please check your Kickstarter account and your email to find out, and please try to get this resolved before Friday.

Next, I’ve got to talk about our patreon. Despite the major success of the Kickstarter, patreon is an essential part of making A.N.I.M. a long-term viable career.

You can find our patreon here. Subscribing for $3 or more will give you access to our patreon discord server where you can meet the team and offer direct feedback, as well as have a vote in what our next project will be. Subsribing for $5 or more will also give you access to regular, playable updates on all of our in-progress projects.

We will of course be posting updates on our progress in finishing Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and adding the stretch goals on Kickstarter, but if you want to actually play these updates as they come out, you can do so by supporting our patreon for as little as $5. We know some of you will jump at this opportunity to get improved beta versions of Eureka early, and some of you will just wait until final release, but for those of you who would like to get the playable updates, we have a question.

Would you rather us officially update the patreon beta copies twice a month, or once a month? There are definite pros and cons to each one and that’s one of the reasons we’re asking the fans.

Twice a Month

Pros

More frequent updates

Cons

Updates will be smaller and less significant in how much each one will improve the game materials.

Updates that come too frequently could annoy the people who are actually trying to use the beta copies for their campaigns, as they may feel like have their campaign rules changing too frequently to memorize.

Once a Month

Pros

Updates will be much bigger and more significant

Gives more time for people who are playing with the beta copies to have several sessions in between rulebook updates.

Cons

Updates less frequently

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Free Beta Copies

If you don't want to wait, but don't want to sign up to our patreon either, then you can get an older beta copy for free on our website or itch.io page.

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

[fiftymilehighclub]

@aharris00britney's Misa hairs + my child versions in JewlRyBox!

Naturally anytime I make a conversion I've gotta recolor it in my main palette for maximum coloration! I was having issues with Puppy Crow for some reason so those have gotten put on the back burner as I just yeet this into the world so I can clear out my WIP folder!

You need the original adult mesh from here and child versions require my mesh, here. The included hair accessory is enabled for both and has a custom thumbnail, and is found in brow piercings. The child ones marked TEXREF require the adult V1 version while taking up less space, while the unmarked ones are standard recolors -- make sure you don't grab both!

Patreon Download (always free!)

Alt Downloads: Google Drive // SFS 

@alwaysfreecc @childandtoddlercc @thejewlbox @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters

[wonderfulworldofdarklords]

https://redcircle.com/shows/d462cbc8-3fe9-41f5-97b1-f1cbc8306fb6/episodes/f8d2b809-bdbf-4c8d-89f8-6db6da58072c

CONTENT ADVISORY: Because this episode is based on Who Framed Roger Rabbit, it takes place in Langeles, a fantasy version of Los Angeles. I don't think we even mention fire, but if the Los Angeles wildfires hit at all close to home for you, we're putting a detailed content advisory that includes all the neighborhoods and landmarks mentioned at the end of the show notes, with separate entries for the episode proper and the D fiction (so you can skip one or both if you're less worried about content and want to avoid spoilers).

Welcome to Wonderful World of Darklords! We're reaching back into our childhood nightmares and pulling out one of our favorite Disney villains: Judge Doom. He's made of pure nightmare fuel, but he's also a man living his best life who only makes sense in a world with living cartoons, so adapting him was a challenge. For Doom, though, we'll take up that challenge, because he's magnificent. Better than Goofy. Topics discussed include:

The obscure creature that allows us to adapt toons into D&D terms;

More than a minute of Eberron, including how to do Who Framed Roger Rabbit purely as an Eberron game if you choose;

A beloved Disney movie we're not planning to adapt into a full domain that you can easily plunder for Roger Rabbit NPCs and storylines;

Ideas for running a years-long Toontown/Runetown game with Judge Doom as the spider at the center of the web without it becoming repetitive;

and more!

The full writeup for Runetown is available on DM's Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/product/507839/Runetown-A-Ravenloft-Domain-of-Dread?affiliate_id=241770

Timestamps

0:00 Content Advisory

1:26 Introduction

9:08 The Lord

45:13 The Land

1:06:17 Dread Possibilities

1:21:42 Aging Up (CW discussion of drug use and erotic body horror)

1:29:15 Aging Up ends

1:42:54 Parting Thoughts

2:10:47 D’s Parting Thoughts

All music recordings are in the public domain (mark 1.0) and are licensed through https://musopen.org:

Chopin Nocturne in B-Flat Minor, Op. 9 No.1 (main theme), performed by Eduardo Vinuela

Chopin Etude Op. 25, No. 12 in C Minor: “Ocean” (darklord theme), performed by Edward Neeman

Chopin Nocturne in F Minor, Op. 55 No. 1 (land theme), performed by Luke Faulkner

Rachmaninoff Morceaux de Fantaisie, Op. 3 - 2. Prélude in C sharp minor (Dread Possibilities), performed by Sergei Rachmaninoff

Chopin Nocturne in E Minor, Op. 72 No. 1 (parting thoughts), performed by Luke Faulkner

Dialog for Yensid was written by Azalin Rex himself: http://www.tumblr.com/darklordazalin

The Wonderful World of Darklords logo was designed by Halite Jones, whom you can find on Tumblr and Instagram: https://www.tumblr.com/halite-jones and http://www.instagram.com/insta_halite

Contact us on:

Gmail: wonderfulworldofdarklords@gmail.com

Facebook: @wonderfulworldofdarklords

Tumblr: @wonderfulworldofdarklords

Patreon: www.patreon.com/WonderfulWorldofDarklords

YouTube: @wonderfulworldofdarklord

GENERAL CONTENT ADVISORY

Discussion of the destruction of a neighborhood and its residents (Toontown/Runetown)

Conspiracy theories involving the Langeles government (primarily Judge Doom, but since it's noir there's a lot of corruption)

Discussion of Burbank, the Golden Triangle, Bel Air, and Beverly Hills

D'S JOURNAL CONTENT ADVISORY (SPOILERS)

A concert hall reminiscent of the Walt Disney Concert Hall in downtown LA is targeted for sabotage. Nothing comes of it, but D worries about the possibility of it collapsing with people inside.

D is briefly exposed to a blast of heat in Toontown that melts her to a puddle before she can reform again.

[van-yangyin]

Razor's Outfit and hair (Genshin Impact) [Male frame]

我的「卢皮卡」的狼。它们是家人。～ The wolves are my Lupical. My family.

Sul sul, I've taken quite a while because I wanted to leave it the most complete as I usually do and because March has been a very busy month, but here I present today to you download of Razor's outfit and hair from Genshin Impact with a little extra earrings.

【Everything shared below, has been tested by @lea-heartscxiv and me in Ultra quality (non HQ) following our needs, if you find any problem let me or him know.】

Download under keep reading ↓ 

If you download my CC it means your agree with my T.O.U (English/Español/日本語).

General Info:

clothes (Upper, Lower and Lower with boots)

gloves (2 versions, HQ and non-HQ)⁽*¹⁾

boots

body marks as tattoo (4 swatches)

face scar (two types, real scar and painted scar on scars or tattos) [Painted scars is for those who want a more drawn style, with original color of Razor model]

left earring (right earring and right and left earring at the same time

upper right bracelet

hair (24 EA Swatches + Razor swatch) [Male and Female Frame]

all LOD's

normal, specular and emission maps included

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible (only gloves have non-HQ version)⁽*¹⁾

In case you would like a version of whole outfit in one click or whole outfit in one click with game assets hair, let me know by commenting below or from Ask me anything

~⭐️~

~Razor's outfit~

Outfit Info:

Upper and Lower Clothing/Lower Clothing with boots⁽*²⁾)

gloves (2 versions, HQ and non-HQ)⁽*¹⁾

boots

Razor's body marks as tattoo (4 swatches, only Male frame)

face scar (two types, real scar and painted scar on scars or tattos) [Painted scars is for those who want a more drawn style, with original color of Razor model]

left earring

upper right bracelet

all LOD's

normal, specular and emission maps included

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible (only gloves have non-HQ version)⁽*¹⁾

All except tattoo is opposite frame compatible

Compatible with higher and lower game sliders

There are small bugs with some parts of clothes

⁽*¹⁾ Only download HQ version of gloves if you have "HQ mod" if this isn't the case, download non-HQ version because otherwise you will get a shiny pixel on left hand. ⁽*²⁾"Pants without boots" looks like in picture below, for that reason I've made another version with "pants with boots", in case you don't like how "pants alone" look, but I've also placed "boots" in case you download first option or you want to have "pants with boots" and "boots" alone to use it in other outfits. Hope that I've explained myself clearly 😆💦

LODs Info: Upper Clothing: LOD0: 8k LOD1: 6k LOD2: 3k LOD3: 1k Lower Clothing: LOD0: 2k LOD1: 2k LOD2: 1k LOD3: less than 1k Lower Clothing with boots: LOD0: 4k LOD1: 3k LOD2: 2k LOD3: less than 1k Gloves: LOD0: less than k Boots: LOD0: 2k LOD1: 1k LOD2/3: less than 1k Upper right bracelet: LOD0/1/2/3: less than 1k

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (SFS ~ Free, no adfly)

~⭐️~

~Razor Scar and body marks~

Info:

Razor's body marks as tattoo (4 swatches)

face scar (two types, real scar and painted scar on scars or tattos) [Painted scars is for those who want a more drawn style, with original color of Razor model]

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible

All except tattoo is opposite frame compatible

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (SFS ~ Always free, no adfly)

~⭐️~

~Razor left earring with extras~

Info:

left earring (Original Razor's earring position)

right earring (Extra)

earrings in both ears (Extra)

left earring, right earring and earring in both ears merged

Left/Right Earrring: LOD0/1/2/3: less than 1k Left and Right earrings: LOD0/1/2/3: less than 1k

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (SFS ~ Free, no adfly)

~⭐️~

~Razor's Hair~

Hair Info:

24 EA Swatches + Razor swatch (Child and Toddler version coming soon)

Base game compatible

Hat compatible

All genders and agender

Teen to elders

Texture hair and hair mesh made by me from scratch

Split hair compatible (Patreon/SFS)

Custom Thumbnails

LOD Information: LOD0: 15k | LOD1: 12k | LOD2: 7k | LOD3: 3k

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (SFS ~ Always free, no adfly)

Preview in CAS:

Hair with hat category:

Split hair color:

~⭐️~

~Genshin Impact Eyes~

color eyes of characters as non-default

color eyes of characters as make-up face

⚠️ Important: At the moment both only have swatch of Razor's eyes, but I'll add more as make other characters, which in that case will be notified in corresponding post so that if you wish you can download or re-download it with new swatch (if you downloadi it from SFS), for those who become a patreon on Patreon I'll simply modify the file and make it notify the update of that post, since it seems that if someone only follows me this function doesn't warn you (Thanks @lea-heartscxiv for the warning).

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

✨DOWNLOAD LINK✨ (SFS ~ Always free, no adfly)

~⭐️~

Let me know if you find any problem. 🙏❣️

IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE CONSIDER BECOME A PATREON OR TIP ON KO-FI. ANY HELP IS ALWAYS WELCOMED BUT ALWAYS OPTIONAL. YOU CAN ALSO COMMISSION ME HERE OR FROM TUMBLR, IF YOU WANT ME TO DO SOMETHING SPECIFIC FOR YOU.  THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

👀👉MORE DOWNLOADS

📻 @alwaysfreecc, @sssvitlanz, @public-ccfinds

Happy simming! 🍀

💛

🛹 You can find me also on Patreon | Pinterest | Ko-Fi | Blogger (Shared with Lea) | Instagram | X (Twitter) | My F.A.Q. | My T.O.U. | MORE DOWNLOADS 🛹

[readyandnot]

HOT DAMN-

THAT WAS THE BEST ONE SO FAR

first off- ofc ash got a little injured, man can’t even stay out of trouble when vacationing lmao glad it’s only minor tho

again, ash sounds a lot better, the whole staying behind thing sounds normal and he’s a lot more cheerful, always makes me happy :))

also i loved that marie bit even tho we haven’t met her lol

WOOOOOOO let’s just jump right into it huh?

HOLY SHIT ASH WTF

i felt like i was actually listening to the patreon versions omg

mans goes SUBMISSIVE I LOVE IT

that’s like probably the most spicy (noise wise) we’ve heard so far it was LOUD AND CLEAR

the massaging part *kiss* love that so much

i wish there was more of ash being insecure about his scar, BUT less angst to deal with so all good in my book

but wowwww that threw me for a loop, it just keeps getting better and better

like vincent’s was great but ash’s is also great so vincent is a close second

WHEW

OH SHIT QUESTION MARK IS NEXT

alright- predictions: i think it’ll be a new character like morgan, or huxley and damien and fl ORRRR a new idea popped in my head, ollie!

either one or whatever we get honestly i’m pumped for!

[interact-if]

Taking the spotlight for Day 6... Lucirene!

Lucirene, author of An Angel’s Song

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

In the forest of Bres an otherworldly sickness corrodes the soil and changes the creatures within. “A parting gift from the fallen angels”  say the citizens of the Hyaku Region and the mark on your hand confirms it.

Though the scent travelling in the air is sweet and enticing everyone knows better than to get closer. But the mark, it pulses, it burns, the pain spreading as fast as the corruption of the forest does.

Your masters are calling, and it seems like this time you cannot escape them.

An Angel’s Song Demo | Author’s Ko-fi | Author’s Patreon | Read more [here]

Tags: dark fantasy, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

I have so many, but the only one public is An Angel’s Song. It’s, more than anything, a story about grief, loneliness and overcoming it all while navigating a hostile environment and discovering long lost secrets about the Divine and about the MC’s country. That one is very cathartic for me to make because of the themes, I feel like I’m working through a lot of feelings I didn’t even realize I had by writing it.

The next one is also an IF and it focuses on comedy, adventure and character interaction. It’s supposed to be more lighthearted, more fun, but knowing me… I don’t know if it’ll stay that way. Basically, it goes: A Captain’s boat falls prey to the storms and the strange creatures living under the sea, and they and their crew end up washing ashore an icy, snowy country. I already have the main cast written down and they have so much synergy, it’s amazing.

And the last one I’ll talk about (a traditional novel) actually happens in the same setting as my second IF, but many, many years before, when their local deity/guardian was born. It’s more of a romance-fantasy than anything, a love story between a Goddess and a half-dragon, however it also showcases many of the situations the people had to navigate and face before their country could become the place you’ll see in my second IF.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I like most definitely is how much freedom we have as authors. Of course, one is constrained by one’s ability to code but I think, for the most part, we can do so many things, reach an entirely new level of immersion that would not be possible with a regular novel. It’s amazing how sometimes I’m reading something and get so into it, feel so connected to the MC I feel dread when they do, panic when they have to make a choice that will clearly impact a lot of people in their world. With IF you can really feel like you’re part of the story.

Another thing I like is being able to explore other paths with my writing. Like for example, what if the MC had done this instead of that? How would that have affected their relationships, their world state? Writing branches is a lot of work, especially because they could change so many things, but it feels oddly satisfying when you do decide to include them. 

Challenges… Coding, mainly. I feel like a lot of new aspiring IF authors are a bit afraid of coding and I can understand that, especially since, had it not been for the help of the community, I would have taken way longer to actually start using Twine. Hopefully with time for resources come up and it becomes less daunting.

I don’t know if any other author feels the same way but, though I think branching is a blessing, it is also a curse. I can only write the same conversation so many times, I mean I know I’m writing it in different tones and sometimes with different results but it gets frustrating after a while because it feels like you’re stuck, like you’re not progressing at all.

Another one would definitely be finding a balance between reader interaction and just following your vision. Since it’s IF at times I feel like I have to meet a quota of branches or ways in which you can react, sometimes I also find it difficult to make the MC feel like a real person instead of a reader-insert. I’m working on that.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

That’s a difficult one… I don’t know if I would consider it weird but I do tend to investigate a lot about fashion, especially when designing the main outfits of the characters. I spend hours trying to find out what colors were used back then, what they meant, who was allowed to use them. I have this little image with some palettes for kimonos depending on the season.

I also spend too much time coming up with names, especially for places. Like I look up names of places that already exist, what they mean, I try to investigate if the words that I want to use make sense, then I panic because I can’t find anything, but I think that’s usual for writers. I also spent more time than necessary researching for the name of a tree that you will see way later in the book, which no one will probably notice what the name of the tree means or what it symbolizes but it makes me happy.

Honestly, I feel like the amount of research I have had to do has not been particularly weird? If anything at times I think I should research more, even if some aspects of Japanese culture will not apply to Kyou.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

The initial version of the MC from An Angel’s Song, which I miss dearly since they had more personality. They were autistic coded too, and I hope some traces of that still remain. Apart from that I feel like all of the characters from the main cast share something with me, even if their experiences are, of course, more dramatic than my own.

A lot of them have issues with a paternal figure or an absent mother, which also resonates with me. Some of Saori’s traits draw inspiration from ways in which I talked or acted before I became a little better at masking, before I became more self-aware. Hazuki being emotional and caring, K being a bit clingy but devoted, Masa having a temper yet loyal, Miwa being friendly but reluctant to open up beyond surface level information. I think those things describe me.

There’s also Rei but I don’t think I’m writing her book anytime soon. She’s someone that’s very family oriented, she’s a bit temperamental but she means well and she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about it, maybe Rei is more the person I want to become.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I’ve been living in Venezuela my whole life so I think so, even if most of the time I don’t even notice it. I believe that this happens especially in regards to relationships because people in Venezuela are very family oriented and also, from what I’ve experienced, they form strong bonds with their neighbors, which creates this strong sense of community —sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t, but my mom and her friends always make at least some friends in their neighborhoods and they gossip with some coffee about the happenings of the rest—. So when it comes to writing a character it is very important to me to make an emphasis on family relationships because those are a strong part of my culture, of my identity. 

In An Angel’s Song you have the main cast having issues or conflicting emotions about one or multiple members of their family, which influence their behavior and their outlook on life, but for the most part they are (or will be) able to form similar relationships with people that are not related to them, or to work towards restoring that relationship, transforming it into something healthier. 

In my other books family dynamics are also immensely important. For example, I’m going to mention Rei again because I love her. So, Rei has a sister named Rin, and they are both very close, even if they haven’t spent much time together. Their bond and trust in each other helps them overcome a lot of obstacles and they rely on each other when they need support or encouragement. Rei also has other people that she thinks of as siblings, and restoring that relationship with them is one of her main goals. There’s also this recurring guilt she feels at leaving her birth family and her home to explore, because to her, families are supposed to stay together.

Another aspect that I think influences my writing is religion, even if I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious household nor do I belong to any religion. Religion is a big deal in this country, we have so many events and holidays relating to religious figures. I remember when I was very young I loved going to one of the churches here because the Virgin of that town had a building filled with pretty clothes to dress her with. 

So, in that vein, I try to think about the character’s relationship with religion, do they believe in the Gods? Do they trust them? Do they follow local deities or prefer the main pantheon? How does this religion shape the way people interact with each other and the world? In regards to characters that are Venezuelan or Venezuelan-coded… I do have a few that are Venezuelan, but I don’t think I’m going to be releasing their stories soon, so I’ll keep it quiet for now.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

People being passionate about their work! This isn’t something exclusive to IF, but it is something that I love seeing. I also like seeing the different ways people innovate within the genre. I feel like sometimes, especially with newer writers, there is this idea that an IF has to subscribe to a specific format and that’s simply not true. If you don’t want to use a stat system you don’t have to, if you want to add combat then go ahead, if you would prefer to write an MC that’s already pretty pre-established (which is something that I personally want to try) then there’s nothing stopping you and I encourage you to give it a go. IF is very versatile and it’s wrong to try and fit authors into a box, especially if they want to bring something new into our little corner of the internet.

Q7: Any advice to give?

In general, I advise people to have fun writing, to not worry so much about how good it is, about if people will like it. Writing, at the end of the day, ends up being a pretty solitary activity and having those thoughts in your head too long will make you spiral. Be kind to yourself, be open to feedback when it comes (and learn to distinguish constructive feedback from destructive feedback) and enjoy the exploration of your world and characters. 

You are not alone in all of this. If you can, join a group of writers you can talk with, exchange ideas, get feedback from or just exchange memes (the ultimate bonding experience). Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Courier’s Cap
Wondrous item, rare (requires attunement) ___ This tan bag cap bears a wax seal on its side and is stamped with a variety of messengers’ markings. While wearing the hat, your walking speed is increased by 5 feet. Within the hat is a special demiplane that can hold up to 100 letters, written notes, or similar mundane sheets of paper. You can use an action to reach into the hat and pull out a sheet you choose. If the hat is punctured or torn, the sheets of paper spill out in a pile within 5 feet of the hat. The hat has 3 charges and regains all expended charges daily at dawn. While wearing the hat, you can use an action to expend some of its charges to cast one of the following spells from it: “message” (0 charges, or 1 charge to cast the alternate version detailed below) or “sending” (2 charges). If there’s space within the demiplane, any message sent by either spell is automatically recorded on a mundane scrap of paper, torn to the size of the message, and stored within the hat. If you expend 1 charge to cast the “message” spell from the hat, the message you send as part of the spell materializes in front of you as a folded letter, complete with the message inside of it. The message is written in your handwriting. The letter then flies through the air towards the target, which can be up to 1,000 feet away from you. You don’t need to be able to see the target in order to send the message in this way, but you must either know its name or provide a general description for the flying letter. The letter flies through the air with a speed of 50 feet; it has AC 10 and 1 hit point. When the letter arrives, it lands at the target’s feet or in one of its open hands, provided it has one. “Special delivery!” ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Prerelease Patreon Update March 21st 2024

Changelog

CHAPTER 1

Have started working on replacing the examples of play with updated ones that actually fit the current and slightly more stable version of the rules. These will be found in various chapters. You can see them in the table of contents.

Fixed a pretty bad typo in a sidebar “Sometimes, citizens are innocent despite being proven guilty in a court of law. A quest to prove the innocence of a convicted criminal makes a great mystery-solving motivation.”

Changed “Collaborative Storytelling: Players are not their Investigators” to “Players are not their Characters”

Changed the heading “Not An Excuse for Bad Faith Play” to “No Excuse for Bad Faith Play”

Changed header “Expect to Fail Risky Rolls” to “Expect to Fail Rolls”

Investigators’ Truth is now a MUCH cleaner and easier to understand section. Holy crap that was a mess. 

Made it so comforting and exacerbating factors for composure rolls no-longer stack. Made it so that two stressors happening at the same time just count as exacerbating factors rather than clunkily combining the modifiers.

Changed skipping a meal from -2 composure to -1 composure

Changed “Total Composure Loss (Optional/Legacy Rule)” to be “Portraying Composure Loss” and completely redid it as guidelines and suggestions rather than really being rules. 

Changed a lot of stuff about Jumpscares. Made the choices more potent.  

Combat and Chases are no-longer considered Scenes. 

Created a new section just for defining scenes

Overhauled Ticks

Added a new section: Adventure Modules, How to Use Them, and Why

Started marking the sidebar stuff in such a way so it will be easier for readers reading the beta version before the fancy corkboard formatting is applied to see what sentence each sidebar is referencing.

Added multiple new sections underneath Role of the Narrator, full of GM advice tailored specifically for Eureka. 

For Tick consumption in travel times, added 4 different starting values based on the size of the era the adventure is taking place in. Made other changes to how Ticks work with traveling, and also added a mechanic for speeding and getting pulled over by the cops. Made it more clear how Ticks work and how they are supposed to be used.

Sports cars no longer take less time getting to places and are counted as regular cars for tick cost of traveling.

Moved the rules for how to restore Composure with a Comfort roll into the Composure section rather than being under the Comfort skill, more like how the HP-restoring rules are found in the section about damage and HP rather than under the Medicine skill. 

Way better clarified how the Manipulate skill is supposed to work.

Copy-edited all the way to Interpersonal Consequences.

CHAPTER 2

None

CHAPTER 3

None

CHAPTER 4

None

CHAPTER 5

None

CHAPTER 6

None

CHAPTER 7

None

CHAPTER 8

Added a new Mage Trait, Lightning Powers