#these are fun its like playing never have i ever

[tallulah477]

Feral

Survive The Night Day 2: Predator/Prey

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Dark!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Sex Pollen, Size Difference, Chasing, Primal Play (Predator/Prey Kink), Creampie, Hair Pulling, Knife Play, Restraining Holds (i.e pinning/holding reader down), Fear Kink (?), Alien Genitalia (not really the focus, but its there), Knotting, Belly Bulge

Word Count: 7.3K

A/N: Based off a dream I had where Neteyam chased me through my house and I was running for my fucking life. Why didn't I let him catch me, you ask? Cause dream Talie is stupid.

Summary: You never understood why the Na'vi don't use this particular plant in their healing practices. It's a miracle plant for the humans - cutting healing times nearly in half when used as a topical paste. You would think it would have some similar benefits to the Na'vi. You would be wrong.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute - Human

Kehe rikx - Don't move

Rutxe ftang - Please stop

Kehe - No

Even considering he’s a nine foot tall blue alien, Neteyam Sully still looks extremely out of place standing on the clean, white tiled floor of the lab. 

His siblings don’t look so out of place when they visit - comfortable and familiar enough within the confines of the lab to make themselves at home among the multitude of beakers, whirling machines, and thick observation glass that make up your day-to-day workplace. Their large bodies twisting and contorting with ease when necessary to accommodate for the smaller space. 

Neteyam isn’t so lucky. He doesn’t like the human facilities, opting to follow in his mother’s footsteps and stay as far away from the skypeople as he can. He’s only here because he was ordered to be, sent by his father to fix his broken throat comm before they head out with the hunting party on a three day hunting trip.

He looks uncomfortable as he stands behind you, back stiff and arms crossed across his broad chest as he watches you tinker with the comm. Repairing tech has never been your strong suit, so it’s taking you a bit longer to figure out than it probably should have, but since you're currently the only person left in this half of the base, the responsibility has unintentionally fallen to you. 

You should be out there too. The thought forms bitterly in your head as you poke at the small opened compartment of the comm with your tweezers. Your favorite part of research is going out into the world and finding the specimens. The lab is great, a fine place for breaking ground and learning new things, gathering knowledge and data about a flora and fauna in a way that no other humans had ever had the opportunity to do before. Pandora is your home, where you grew up and lived your whole life - and yet, it’s still a mystery, and you learn something new and beautiful about it everyday. 

But the real fun is outside the lab. It’s when you're out there, in the thick of it, stepping over breaching roots and feeling the moss of the ground between your toes when you take off your shoes during a rest break. It’s feeling the gentle breeze of air along your skin and hearing the trees rustle in the canopy above you as a result, and pretending that - just for a minute - you can feel the breeze of alien air brush against your face instead of your mask.

Usually one of the older scientists, Alice, offers to stay behind at the lab to run tests and be on call for the Omatikaya should human tech ever be needed. But she’s the most knowledgeable when it comes to locating the elusive and seasonally grown plant that’s come to be known as the Rust Plant. 

So, that leaves you here, on your ass and pouting while everyone else gets to go off and have their fun. 

As far as you know, the plant doesn’t have any special properties or spiritual significance to the Na’vi. But when the red dust-like powder is collected from the center and manipulated into a liquid, the result is a miracle paste that significantly reduces healing time with human injuries. You asked about it once - why the Na’vi don’t try to make the paste for themselves to see if it will work on them - but the only answer you got back was that it had some ‘unintended consequences’ when used by the clan, so they stay away from the plant altogether. 

You don’t think about that when Neteyam walks in. 

The plant mixture, once rust red, is now a beautiful glowing purple inside the beaker - a reaction from the solution added to the powder to form the liquid base. It’s been on the hot plate for a while now, but it’s only just starting to heat up enough to provide small spirals of smoke inside the clear glass. 

You’re glancing at the clock when you hear Neteyam sniff slightly behind you. You don’t turn around, ignoring the little puffs of air that somehow sound like bullet shots in the silence, but a part of you is instantly insecure. What is he smelling? It can't be the mixture in the beaker. Despite the smoke, it doesn’t give off any kind of smell. Subtly, you press your chin to your chest, trying to see if you can smell yourself to find out if maybe it’s you giving off some kind of stench that his overly sensitive nose is picking up on, but you don’t smell anything off about you either. 

The purple liquid is still thin inside the container, needing several more minutes of constant heat in order to bubble and thicken slightly before it can be considered a usable product, but you pause your tinkering on the comm to note the time for the smoke in a small notebook. 

Neteyam lets out a loud sigh when you drop the tweezers to grab a pencil, the annoyed huff nearly ear piercing in the quiet of the lab. This time you can’t help but glance towards the harsh noise, a slight tilt of your head towards the large Na’vi and your eyes meet amber for just a second before they drop again to the paper as you scribble. 

A part of you wants to be snobby, ask a prissy ‘can I help you?’ just because you feel like he’s being so unnecessarily rude when you're just trying to help, but you keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn’t. 

“Are you nearly done?” He grunts, accented tone pitched with agitation as his feet shuffle on the tile. 

“Yes, just a few more minutes,” You say, picking the tweezers back up. “Be patient.”

You think you’ve almost got the comm fixed, just a minor replacement to the tiny inside panel, and you're thankful that’s all it is. It shouldn’t take too long. You’ve nearly got the replacement piece in place now, so all you should have to do is solder it in and it should be fine. Which is good because the sooner you can get this fixed, the sooner you can get the huffy, oversized, unfortunately very handsome despite being an incredible dick of a Na’vi out of the lab so you don’t have to feel him breathing down your neck anymore. 

It only takes another couple minutes for the smoke to consume the rest of the empty space in the beaker, thick white wisps swirling inside of the glass and spiraling out of the top. You drop the tweezers again, cutting the power off to the hot plate and grab the pencil again to log the time. 

Neteyam sniffs again, this time audibly louder and longer, before it sounds like his breath gets caught in his lungs. 

Immediately, your head spins around to stare at him wide eyed, surprise and concern flooding your chest when you notice he’s backed up a few steps. He’s staring at the bubbling beaker, yellow eyes set with suspicion and what almost looks like distress. 

“Are you o–”

“What is that?” He interrupts, voice gruff as his three fingered hand points to the beaker. 

“It’s… the mixture for our healing paste,” You reply, confused. 

“No! What is it?”

“The Rust Plant? The one that grows on the sides of river b–”

You’re cut off again by a sharp hiss, and you have just a second to register Neteyam’s dagger-like teeth as he stalks forward, spitting out a frustrated “You stupid–” before he’s jerking back, hand immediately covering his nose as if to stop himself from breathing.

He looks wild, eyes frantic as he stares at the beaker, and every muscle in his body looks tense, stung up tight like a bow ready to shoot. You’re a scientist, you’re meant to be observant, so you don’t know why you didn’t see it before. But it’s clear as anything now. The smoke doesn’t have any kind of smell to you, but to him - with the way he’s backing away and covering his nose to keep from breathing it in - it must be horrible. 

His tail is trashing behind him, so upset that you think you can almost hear a swish from it cutting through the air like a whip. 

“I need to leave,” He says suddenly. Instinctively, you back up into the desk at the sight of the large and angry Na’vi coming at you again, but he just grabs the still broken comm and turns around to storm out. 

He’s big though, too much for the small space of the lab, and his frantic tail is still thrashing as he turns. The thin appendage accidentally snaps against the side of the still smoking beaker, sending it flying off the desk and onto the ground. 

The glass shatters against the tile, glowing purple spreading across the white floor in a large puddle as the smoke spirals up into the air. Neteyam’s hand instinctively drops from his nose to grip onto his tail, holding the end of it close to him as if to keep it from swinging and smacking into anything else. But you watch, shocked and frozen in your spot as he takes one shuddering breath, and then another, tense back muscles shifting under his cobalt skin with each inhale and exhale of air. 

“Neteyam?” You ask, timidly. Dread shoots through your chest and you have the feeling that something very serious just happened, but you don’t even know what. 

He’s just standing there now, back towards you, but he’s not moving towards the door anymore. It’s like something is keeping him from moving, some unseen force that exploded out of the glass container when it burst and wrapped its tendrils around him before he could take another step. 

Whatever he was smelling from the beaker wasn’t good for him, and now it's in the air, invisible signatures swirling through the small space of the lab, and it's affecting him - the ‘unintended consequences’ of the Rust Plant on the Na’vi.

Your every instinct is telling you to stay away from him, that he’s dangerous. But he’s one of the Omatikaya, and regardless of how he views humans, you know he would never hurt you and disobey his father like that. 

“Hey,” You say, gently. You force yourself away from the desk, slowly moving around him to try to not startle him as you attempt to make your way to the airlock door. “Just relax, okay? Let’s try to air this pl–”

His deep growl has you frozen again, cold ice shoots through your veins at the predatory sound. It’s not a normal growl - not a low, quick sound made in anger or frustration. It sounds dark, a deep dangerous rumbling that came from his chest. A warning. 

You watch in horror as he slowly tilts his head towards you, the pointed tips of his sharp teeth visible under the snarled curl of his lips, glittering in the bright fluorescent lights of the lab. Your brain screams at you to run - danger, danger, danger, it shouts, but you can’t move. The realization hits hard: he’s not Neteyam anymore. The Na’vi in front of you is not the same human-indifferent, scoffing, fearless warrior son of Toruk Makto.

He’s an animal. A predator. 

Feral. 

His golden eyes are now just a thin band of dark honey encircling two endless black holes. And in their reflection you see yourself - tiny and weak. Scared.

Prey.

His body shifts slightly, just the most minuscule movements as he angles himself towards you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed had your survival instincts not been ringing alarm bells in your brain. Without thinking, you grab the hot plate, gripping it tightly at its base and holding it in front of you as your only form of weapon.

“Neteyam Sully!” You shout, and you can’t even believe how out of your mind you are to try to use his full name like an upset mother. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you stop it right now!”

There’s not even a second after the words leave your mouth, not a beat or breath or anything before he’s coming at you. 

Your body registers his sudden movement before your brain does, the roaring snarl bouncing off the walls of the lab as he lunges at you. The hot plate is out of your hands in an instant, the hard base of the plate smacking into his face with a loud cuh-thunk. His snarl is interrupted with a grunt from the hit, body jerking back a step from the impact, and you don’t wait around to see the way his eyes zero in on your retreating form again in rage. 

You can’t think - your body is moving without your brain telling it what to do. Pure panic mixed with raw survival instincts is what drives you through the door behind you, nearly smacking into the wall as you barrel down the main hallway. You hear Neteyam’s footsteps close behind, bare feet smacking against the tile. 

It’s a sound you never thought you would find terrifying. You think of little Mae, the daughter of the staff nurse and one of the science guys, and how the sound of her tiny footsteps stomping on these same tiles floors always brought a smile to your face. You could always hear her coming before you saw her, just a few seconds before she rounded the corner with unsteady steps ready to cause havoc as she tries to run from her exhausted and overstimulated mother. 

These ones are louder though. Heavier, but somehow more quiet as they rush at you from across the unobstructed hall. Your body doesn’t wait for your mind to catch up, and that’s probably a good thing considering you have no idea how the fuck you knew to take the split second turn to your right the exact moment Neteyam tried to pounce. 

You hear his snarl of anger as he rights himself, loud and echoing through the hallway. You’ve managed to best him for a second, but he’s still on your ass - gaining ground on you with his long Na’vi legs despite the cramped human-sized halls. 

Your heart is racing in your chest, pounding with fear, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins is the only thing keeping you going. You can’t breathe - shallow, panicked, quick puffs of air rip from you as you run, your high pitched gasps sounding against the hall walls as a foil to Neteyam’s predatory growls. 

“HELP!” You scream, voice cracking with how loud you're trying to scream. The desperation and pure terror are evident in your voice and you know if someone were around they would hear you for sure. Someone has to be around. They have to be. “SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!”

No one responds. No one steps in to intervene. No one even opens their door to try to take a little bit of a peek. No one to run to for help even though it feels like you're about to get mauled to death by a Thanator. 

You’re truly alone. And that thought makes you somehow even more desperate. 

Most people have a tendency to close the doors of their bedrooms, trying to keep as much privacy as they can in the small base. Norm has no such desires, often too excited or too focused on getting to his studies that he outright forgets to close his door. 

It’s a god send now that you’re sprinting through the residency part of the outpost. Your room is one of the last down the hall. You won’t make it. Not with the way you’re shaking right now, body feeling like it's somehow both freezing over with ice and lighting on fire as the fear and adrenaline fight for dominance for your immediate attention. Neteyam’s right behind you, long stride more than twice the size of yours cutting any distance you gained through your miracle of a move back down to barely anything at all. 

He’s going to catch you. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

Throwing yourself at a random door is dangerous. Just the extra second it takes to turn the knob and push the door open could almost certainly be the difference between life and death if you even still have a chance at life at all. And even then you run the risk of it being locked. Your eye catches on Norm’s door - open and shining like a beacon of hope amongst the fluorescently lit hallway. 

You don’t have another choice. 

You turn. 

As soon as you make it through the threshold, you slam the door behind you as fast as you can. 

You don’t know what you expected, naively hoping that the door would somehow succeed in protecting you and keeping Neteyam out. It’s not even locked. 

You scream as the door explodes under Neteyam’s weight, the wood splintering as it bursts apart, smaller bits of fragmented wood spraying towards you as the feral Na’vi shoulders his way in. The bathroom to your left is the only option, and you lunge for it just as Neteyam lunges for you. The tears pouring down your cheeks burn your eyes and blur your vision, your loud hyperventilating cries make your throat raw. Another door just barely slammed in his face and your back presses against the opposite door, your panicked hand trying to jiggle the knob but your brain not reminding you how to twist it. This other door hasn’t been used in years - the bathroom that once connected these two rooms together is just used by Norm now since Mary had her baby and her and her husband moved into a larger room to accommodate the crib. It’s locked, and your fingers are struggling to twist the mechanism up to unlock it when Neteyam breaks through. 

Even through your blurred vision, you see it clearly. His arm reaches through the hole his shoulder has made, and the bathroom is too small, too fucking small because that arm looks like its reaching across the entire length of it, fingers splayed out like if he can just get one of the tips to brush you, he’ll snatch you up. 

“HELP!” You scream again. Fuck fuck fuck. You’re going to fucking die. “HELP ME!”

You watch the door in horror as Neteyam pulls his arm back, head dropping to glare at you through the opening, and your veins fill with ice. 

He looks murderous - pupils blown so wide you can’t see the golden ring wrapped around them at all. You want to drop to the ground under that stare, beg for mercy even though the look in his eyes makes it clear there won’t be any. 

“N-Neteyam,” You stutter. Your heart is pounding so fast, blood sounding like it’s rushing in your ears so fast you don’t know how you haven’t had a heart attack yet. “P-please s-stop. P-please.”

His eyes stay locked on yours through the hole in the door, dark and glaring but for some reason he’s paused his attacks. A part of you wonders if your begging is making it through to the non-animalistic part of his brain. Whatever the smoke from the mixture of the Rust Plant did to him, it has to be only temporary. He’s still Neteyam. Neteyam is still in there somewhere. 

“Please,” You try again, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re scaring me.”

He leans forward, one hand curling around the broken wood from the open hole in the door. When he speaks, you don’t know if you’re relieved to hear that he can despite the overwhelming feral actions, or if you’re horrified at how his voice comes out. 

He doesn’t sound like himself at all. His words are clipped, short words made sentences that you don’t understand as both the gravely and growled way he says them as well as overall meaning. 

“Tawtute,” He growls. “Mine.”

“Wha— I-I don’t understand,”

You scream when he hisses at you, long canines and sharp teeth on display through the damaged opening and you have a front row seat to the show as your back presses harder against the door behind you. The hand wrapped around the edge of the hole pulls back suddenly, taking with it a huge chunk of the center and the loud crack and snap of wood snaps your body back into gear. You twist the small lock on the door behind you, unlocking it and wrenching it open when Neteyam throws his body against the opposite door again. You’re out the door and into the next room, slamming the door shut behind you just as you hear the telltale crash of the wild Na’vi breaking through the other barrier. Without thinking, you round the side of the bookshelf that stands on the side of the doorframe. You push with all your might, tipping the bookshelf on its side so that it falls diagonally across the door. A dresser sits just on the opposite side of the door, the bookshelf catching on the edge of the dresser so that it blocks a good portion of the bathroom door. 

Any other time you’d be heartbroken to see the books that fall off the bookshelf in your mishandling scatter along the floor and at your feet like they were nothing more than trash. Today, though, you can’t give a shit about that. 

Your hands grip your hair in frustration as you hear Neteyam’s body barrel into the door, hot tears racing down your face as you waste valuable seconds staring at the bending wood behind the tipped bookcase. It won’t keep him back for long. He could probably easily push it out of his way, but it's something. Your only hope now is that it keeps him long enough for you to get away and that his instinct driven brain doesn’t realize he can just go back the way he came to get around the obstacle. 

Turning on your heel, you sprint out the bedroom door, heading back down the hallway towards the lab. The sound of the loud crash echoing through the empty hall makes you run impossibly faster. Was it the door finally giving way under his weight? Or was it the bookshelf being tossed to the side like it was nothing and he’s about to barrel down the hallway to finish the job that you’ve somehow managed to postpone until now?

You make it back to the lab, foot smacking against the forgotten hotplate still laying on the ground in your haste to get to the airlock. Your hand smacks against the button on the side wall, fingers practically choking the heavy handle as you go to yank it open. The oxygen masks lay forgotten on the shelf next to the door. You don’t care about them, don’t care about breathing right now because what’s good about breathing when Neteyam could end your need for it in just seconds if he catches you. 

The airlock door hisses as the seal breaks and for a split second you think you’ve done it - have somehow managed to survive this deadly game of cat and mouse you’ve inadvertently been forced to play. You can grab a mask and slip inside the airlock. Keep Neteyam locked up here in the lab while you sit safely outside until the others get back or he comes to his senses enough to remember how to open the airlock door himself. 

But no sooner than the thought crosses your mind, an arm wraps tightly around your waist and pulls you from your death grip on the thick metal door. 

You scream as you’re tossed to the floor, body pressed against the cold tile as Neteyam straddles you. His hips pin your legs down, leaving them useless and unable to buck or kick under his massive weight. You beat at his chest with your fists as hard as you can, trying to ignore how they hurt from your balled up fists trying to hit against pure solid muscle. 

Panic manifests in your desperate cries and you aim for his face too, trying to hit or slap or scratch - anything to get him off of you. You feel like an injured animal caught in a trap. And you suppose you are. 

“Get off!” You cry. “Get off me, Neteyam!”

He snarls as one of your hits lands too close next to his eye and he grabs your hands tightly in one of his, pinning them above your head.

Your screams stop, catching in your throat when the bright fluorescent lights of the lab catch on the knife on his hip. The light caresses the blade as he pulls it from its sheath, the sharp tip sparkling as he brings it to press against the base of your throat.

His face is in front of yours in an instant, so close you feel like you can barely breathe in the wake of the knife resting at your throat and the way his huge eyes feel like twin black holes threatening to suck you into their depths if you move even a single centimeter. 

“Kehe rikx,” His words are hardly more than a whispered breath against your face, but their translation rings loudly in your ears. 

Don’t move. 

The point of the knife drags against your neck, scratching lightly as he draws it down your collarbone. It pulls at the fabric at the neck of your t-shirt as he moves it down your chest, stretching and bunching it down as he scrapes the tip through the valley of your breasts. Your heart pounds under the deadly tip of the weapon and your body wants to fight, keep fighting for your life that you know could be taken from you with just a quick movement of his hand, but your fear keeps you frozen. 

Something hard presses against your trapped thighs and your eyes automatically rip themselves from the knife down to the space between your bodies, and your breathing catches in your throat again for a whole other reason. 

Neteyam’s cock is hard in his loincloth, having escaped its sheath and filling out under the thin material enough to raise a sizable tent inside it. 

He doesn’t give you time to react as his head bends down and latches onto the swell of your breast through your shirt, sharp teeth digging into it just enough for marks to surely be left even through the layers of shirt and bra. You yelp, back arching instinctively against the pain, and your body unfreezes as his teeth scrape against your breast before digging into the material of your shirt and ripping.

The loud sound of tearing fabric rips through the room and Neteyam releases the torn fabric from his mouth just to grip it with his hands instead, pulling up and out and exposing your bra clad torso to his darkened crazed eyes. The knife is still in his hand, but the blade is pointed sideways now as he uses the fingers around it to rip your shirt apart. It’s not smart, not a smart idea at all to try your hand at smacking at him again, but you have to do something. 

You don’t know what he wants anymore. What did that mixture do to him? He was chasing you through these halls, growling and snarling like a predator on the hunt for its next meal, and now he’s on top of you - hard and tearing your clothes off like he wants to fuck you. 

You only get a couple smacks in before the knife is back at your chest and you’re forced still again. Neteyam’s eyes are locked onto your chest, following the tip of the knife as he slides it under the band of your bra directly between your breasts. It cuts easily under the pressure of the sharp knife and the covering falls on either side of your chest, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. 

There’s a mark on your breast from where his teeth had dug into it and he pauses to stare at it greedily. 

“N-Netayam,” You say, slowly. He seems a little calmer now that he has you trapped under him. You need to talk him to his senses. He’s still in there somewhere. He has to be. He’s not all animal. He can be reasoned with. “You don’t wanna do this. Plea–”

Your plea is cut off as he rises off of you, crouching back just enough to give himself room to flip you roughly over on your stomach. You grunt as your bare chest hits the cold tile, arms splayed uselessly on either side of you as you try to get your bearings from the quick movement before he’s using his knife to cut through the denim of your shorts. 

“Neteyam! Rutxe ftang! Kehe!” 

You don’t know why you think pleading in Na’vi will be any different than English, but desperation punches the frantic words out of you before you can even think about deciding to say them. Your hands finally find purchase on the ground beneath you and you try to push yourself up in hopes of crawling away, but Neteyam’s dropping the knife and taking hold of your hips before you can. 

High pitched squeaking sounds hit your ears as he drags your body across the tile. Your hands scramble frantically against the floor as you’re pulled backwards, but there’s nothing to hold onto. They just slide uselessly, voicing their protest in the way the tile screams under your grasping fingertips as you’re hoisted up with your lower half in the air. 

Your back arches against Neteyam’s hold, legs kicking in the air but doing no harm despite their efforts. The hole he’s created in your shorts is enough to have your pussy on display for him, and you can feel his breath on it - hot puffs are the only warning you get before his mouth is on you. Your voice is raw from all the screaming you’ve done, the sound crackling and almost pained as you shout again - shout for him to stop and to let you go as you kick and squirm and beg. 

You want to cry more, any drying tears of fear you have still tracked on your cheeks are replaced with tears of humiliation. Your clit pulses under his relentless tongue, pussy subconsciously clenching around nothing as he licks and sucks over the puffy folds. 

You’re wet. 

You’re so wet already, body confusing the adrenaline caused by fear and desperation and flooding it with the adrenaline that comes with arousal instead. His textured tongue slips across your sticky cunt, licking up your wetness, and a reluctant moan escapes your lips at the rough feel on your sensitive parts. 

A gleam to your right catches your attention and a flicker of hope rushes through you at the sight. Neteyam’s knife is laying on the ground next to you, scattered just far enough when he dropped it that it's a stretch for you to grab it, but not impossible. He’s distracted by your cunt, chest rumbling in what you can only describe as a more aggressive type of purr and your face contorts in unwanted pleasure as the vibrations pulse against your clit. 

You reach for the knife, using one hand pressed against the tile to gain any kind of leverage you can while your other arm stretches out towards the forgotten blade. You're not even sure what you’re going to do with it when it’s in your hand. Would you just threaten him with it? Tell him to back off and that you’ll use it if he doesn’t? Would you cut him a little to show that you’re serious? 

Would you stab him if it came to it?

Your fingers graze along the hilt of the knife, fingertips brushing along the part that it can touch and curling in, trying to coax the knife just a bit closer so you can grab it. Neteyam growls into your cunt, and you let out a gasping curse when his foot lands on your wrist, pinning it to the tile before you can work your hand around the knife. 

“You son of a bitch!” You yell, anger burning through your desperation, but all Neteyam does is push his face deeper into your pussy. His large hands rip at the back of your shorts more, fingers digging into the exposed curves of your ass to spread you apart. 

The pressure in your belly intensifies as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it in what feels like an almost pleasured punishment. 

You’re going to cum. Fuck fuck you’re going to cum on the tongue of the practically feral Na’vi who just chased you through the halls of your own home and made you think he was going to rip you to shreds and leave you to die on the floor for your coworkers to find. It feels so good, so so good and you wail as your pussy spasms against his relentless tongue, contracting against the wet muscle as the coil in your belly bursts in an explosion of uncontrolled pleasure. 

Neteyam groans against your core, lapping up everything you have to offer as you whine and shake. Your legs, still suspended in the air, are becoming numb - the tingling sensation of your limbs losing their life combining with the dramatic pulsing over your oversensitive cunt. 

You grunt as he drops you to the ground, his foot lifting off your wrist as he crouches back up, and you pull it to your chest, cradling it there and quickly checking for any injury as your body automatically tries to curl up in a protective ball. 

His hands are back on your hips in an instant, pulling you back again across the floor until your ass is pressed up against his front. Your blood runs cold when your bare ass meets bare skin. The bulge that was once blocked by the thin layer of his loincloth is now free - large, dominant, and demanding of attention as it presses tightly against you. 

Demanding of your attention. 

The hand on the back of your neck is uncaring as it pushes you down, forcing your face against the white tiled floor as he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“Neteyam, no! Please!” You beg, even as your back is forced to arch from the exposed position he has you in.

And maybe if this was a different situation, a different circumstance, he would have used this opportunity to tease you. Tell you to stop fussing and stay still. To be a good girl for him while he fucks your tight cunt and maybe if you’re good enough, he would let you cum again. You would let him. Neteyam is beautiful, more handsome than any other Na’vi you’ve ever seen. If he would have been kind to you and shown interest in you like that, you would have agreed to fuck him in a heartbeat. 

But he’s not himself. Doesn’t even have his mind enough to acknowledge your pleas with anything more than agitated snarls and frustrated growls. 

His cock feels monstrous as he rubs it between your soaked folds. Thick and hard as the wetness of his own slick mixes with the sticky mess you have already between your thighs. The head of his cock rubs against your tender clit and you can feel how the sheer size of it forces your pussy lips apart.

You can’t take it inside you. Fuck. You can’t. You can’t. 

You whimper when the tip makes its way back to your entrance, nudging against it before the blunt tip presses forward. Your hands press into the tile on either side of your head, mouth falling open in a silent scream even as he presses your cheek further into the floor as he pushes his cock further into you. You feel every thick inch of it as it spears you open, and you expect it to hurt. It should hurt, especially with the way you’re clamping down around him, body automatically trying to keep it out even as it bullies its way deeper inside you.

There’s pressure, so much pressure. He’s too big, large alien cock way too much for your tiny human body to take, but somehow it is. Your brain is trying to tell you to panic, that the pressure is pain and you should scream and cry and try to wiggle away from it. But it's not. He’s stretching you so much, filling you up - but it doesn’t. hurt.

And that realization hurts you more than the cock currently rearranging your guts ever could.

You know it’s the slick. Despite never being with a Na’vi yourself, you know that the wetness that coats a male’s cock to aid it with slipping out of its protective sheath has something in it that eases the pain of penetration. It’s a good thing. Inherently helpful for any relationship, especially for those between a human and a Na’vi to curb the extra struggle of the size difference. 

You always thought it was sweet. A way for Eywa to reward the loyalty of the good sky people who are lucky enough to find everlasting bonds with her own children. 

Now, the idea of it leaves a bad taste in your mouth as the cock inside you pulls out only to thrust in harder. The texture on his cock scrapes against your slick walls as he starts to fuck you, the bumps and barbs rubbing and pressing against the sensitive spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had. 

A waterfall of moans and whines rip from your throat as he moves faster, your higher pitched pathetic sounds a stark contrast to his deep guttural grunts. His hand is off the back of your neck now, instead finding a place at the side of your face as he keeps you pinned to the floor. It’s so big compared to your head that it spans the entirety of it, thumb hooking just under the edge of your jaw while his fingers curl around the top of your head as he holds you down. 

Your thighs shake underneath you as he pounds into you, thick cock so far inside you that you know there has to be a bulge in your belly. There is, you can feel it. The way the head of his cock pushes against your lower abdomen roughly with each thrust and you know that if you could move your hands from the death grip press they have on the tile, you could feel it disappear and reappear under your palm. 

He adjusts behind you, both feet planted on the ground as he crouches behind you to try to push in deeper. Pleasure soaks into your brain as you subconsciously push back against him, pussy clenching and squeezing around him trying to suck him in. 

“N-Neteyam,” And you have more to say, you do. But you can’t form thoughts anymore. Nothing else will come out other than little punched out breathless gasps. 

It takes you a long time to realize that he’s speaking, and even longer for your fucked up and fucked out raddled brain to register what he’s saying. It’s not normal sentences, it’s not even English. His words are still animalistic, growled through gritted teeth as he spits out broken Na’vi between his groans of pleasure. You grew up with the language, but you’re so distracted, so overwhelmed by him and the cock inside you that your brain can’t seem to latch on to what he’s saying. 

You think you hear the word for ‘whore’, maybe ‘take it’, something ‘baby’ but you can’t be sure. 

And then he’s leaning forward, body curving overtop yours as he covers you completely. It’s only then you feel what you’ve been too distracted to notice. The thick knot at the base of his cock, fully engorged now as it prods at your entrance. 

Your hands finally leave their place pressed against the floor as you throw them behind you in newfound panic. One hand pushes against his abdomen as best as it can, trying to slow his thrusts while the other grabs at his wrist in an effort to pull his hand away from your face. The hand on his abdomen doesn’t do anything to slow his relentless pace, but the hand on the side of your head moves to tangle in your hair, gripping it in his fist close to your scalp just hard enough to burn a little as he yanks your head back. 

You gasp at the sharp sting and your gasp quickly turns into a whimper as his knot presses tighter against your soaking hole. He’s unforgiving as he digs it against you, holding your hair tight and forcing your back to arch as you stretch even further around it. You’re too wet, pussy too wet and almost greedy and it takes him in, determined despite the obscene size of the engorged ball of tissue.

“Please!” You squeal. Please stop. Please more. “Neteyam, fuck!”

Your eyes roll back into your head when the knot slips inside you, sheathing itself within your heat with another solid push of Neteyam’s hips against your ass. His cock hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars, your vision whiting out and there feels like there’s cotton in your ears as you cum around him, squeezing him tightly as you soak his length in your juices. Your breath catches in your lungs when you feel his cock pulse inside you, twitching and feeling like it’s expanding even bigger as his own orgasm hits him. 

He holds you close, keeping you pinned and still underneath him with the savage hand in your hair and the firm grip he has on your hip - fierce and unmoving as if to keep you from running away.

As if you even could with the knot locked inside you. 

His growl of pleasure reverberates off the walls as he paints yours. Long, thick ropes of release coating your insides and it's so much, so so much that you feel like you can’t fit anymore. Like if he cums anymore, you’ll burst. The knot is still lodged inside you, locked in and refusing to let you free, but there’s no space left inside you, no space, and you feel the excess cum seep out of your hole from around his knot to trail down the insides of your thighs. 

You don’t remember blacking out, and you’re not sure when Neteyam was able to pull free from you or when he passed out next to you either. But when you wake up next, it’s to voices.

“Oh my gosh!”

“Y/N!”

“What the fuck happened?”

The bright florescent lights of the lab are blinding when you try to open your eyes. Exhaustion seeps from every pore of your body and fuck, you feel so sore. 

Norm’s shocked face is looking down at you when your eyes finally adjust to the light, Max and a few of the other scientists are behind him, faces an equal mixture of shock and horror as they stare at you with wide eyes. 

It takes you a moment to remember what happened - why you’re here, waking up on the cold floor of the lab. Naked. You scramble up, hands clutching at your chest as you desperately try to cover yourself. A deep groan to your right steals your attention from your group of onlookers, and your eyes fall on Neteyam, just waking up from his own sleep.

His eyes are back to their normal gold as they open, groggy at first and then alert in a heartbeat as it registers where he is. He’s up in a crouch in an instant, looking ready to fight but not really sure what he’s supposed to be fighting. Those golden eyes catch on the group, confusion twisting on his face and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to figure out what’s going on. 

Then his eyes meet yours, taking in your torn clothes and near nakedness, and you sit in horror as it clicks for him what must have happened. 

And you watch as the horror in your eyes becomes mirrored in his. 

**Special thanks to @quicktosimp and @itchaboi-itchyboy for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @aria-tempest @pocky444 @bambithewriter @xylianasblog @anemonelovesfiction @criticallybella

**Comment here to be added to/removed from my taglist!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Stray Kids OT8 College Dating Scenarios

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

Chan: Meeting at a Campus Coffee Shop

Spots you struggling with a heavy load of books and offers to help. (not the muscles in his arms flexing 🙈)

Strikes up a conversation about your classes and interests, making you feel at ease.

Asks if you want to grab a coffee sometime, smiling warmly - (his dimple is looking so pokeable isn't it?)

Always makes time for study dates, where he helps you with difficult subjects. (does than man ever sleep 🤔)

Brings you coffee before early morning classes, knowing you need the extra boost.

Encourages you to join his study group, introducing you to his friends.

Sends you sweet, motivational texts during exam periods.

Invites you to his dorm for a casual movie night, making sure you’re comfortable.

Plays the guitar for you during breaks, sharing his latest compositions. (such a romantic)

Surprises you with your favorite snacks after a tough day. (but your favorite snack is him don't even deny it)

Takes you to campus events, enjoying the time spent together.

Always listens attentively to your problems, offering thoughtful advice.

Encourages you to pursue your passions, supporting your decisions.

Plans spontaneous weekend trips to nearby cities, exploring new places with you.

Holds your hand during long walks around the campus, making you feel secure.

Lee Know: Dance Club Encounter

Notices you dancing during a club event and is impressed by your skills. ("damn bro why they kinda...?")

Compliments your moves with a hint of a smirk, suggesting you join his dance team. (hmm ulterior motives, huh Mr. Lee?🤔)

Playfully teases you during practice but is always supportive and encouraging.

Invites you to late-night rehearsals, where you bond over shared passion for dance.

Takes you out for late-night snacks after practice, enjoying your company.

Shows you new dance routines, excited to teach you the moves. (or spend time with you but he'd never admit that)

Surprises you with small gifts, like your favorite drink, during breaks.

Asks for your opinion on his choreography, valuing your input. ("y/n do I look sexier when I do this...or this?"😏)

Always makes sure you have a partner during team practices.

Suggests fun dance challenges, making practice sessions enjoyable.

Takes you to dance performances, sharing his love for the art.

Sends you dance videos, wanting to inspire and motivate you.

Plans spontaneous dance battles, keeping things exciting.

Is always the first to congratulate you after a successful performance. ("I could never be the boyfriend of a failure...just kidding love you did great.")

Holds your hand when walking back to your dorm, cherishing the quiet moments together.

Changbin: Library Study Buddy

Sees you frequently in the library and eventually sits next to you, starting small talk.

Offers to share notes and study together for upcoming exams.

Invites you to gym sessions, saying it’s a good break from studying. ("we should workout together...seven days week. just for a healthy lifestyle not because I want to be around you or because I find you extremely attractive or anything...")

Brings you healthy snacks during late-night study marathons, showing his caring side. ("eat...you and food equal nom nom")

Encourages you to join his workout routine, always motivating you.

Takes you to his favorite cafe for study breaks. ("they have protein smoothies babe...protein!"🤯)

Suggests listening to music while studying, sharing his playlist with you.

Helps you organize your study schedule, ensuring you stay on track.

Celebrates small achievements, like finishing a tough assignment, with you.

Invites you to group study sessions, making sure you feel included.

Always texts you good luck messages before exams.

Plans fun, active dates like hiking or biking, keeping things interesting. ("ya if you get too tired I'll carry you on my back. ------ Y/N its been four minutes and you're already tired?"😐)

Supports you in your academic endeavors, always cheering you on.

Takes you to campus events and sports games, enjoying the lively atmosphere.

Walks you back to your dorm after late study sessions, ensuring you’re safe.

Hyunjin: Campus Art Project Partner

Paired with you for a project and is immediately intrigued by your creativity. ("pretty...")

Praises your work and asks for your input on his own pieces.

Takes you to art galleries and cafes to find inspiration together.

Sketches you secretly during class, later presenting it as a gift with a shy smile. ("sorry I couldn't capture all your beauty - it was just too impossible... 😉")

Suggests late-night art sessions, where you create and talk for hours.

Brings you small art supplies, like brushes or sketchbooks, as thoughtful gifts.

Takes you to outdoor painting sessions, enjoying the natural scenery.

Always encourages your artistic expression, praising your unique style. ("stunning...just like you")

Plans dates to art fairs and craft markets, discovering new artists together.

Invites you to his dorm to watch art documentaries, discussing them afterward. ("my favorite piece of art in the documentary? Uh...Um...does your face count?" 🤠)

Shares his favorite artists and inspirations with you.

Encourages you to participate in art competitions, always being your biggest supporter.

Takes you on impromptu photo walks, capturing moments together. ("so I can show our future kids how beautiful their mom was when I first met her")

Sends you artistic memes and jokes, brightening your day.

Holds your hand while walking through art exhibits, feeling connected to you.

Han: Music Club Connection

Meets you at a music club meeting and is drawn to your taste in music. ("damn...I'd pay to see their spotify wrapped")

Writes a song inspired by your first conversation, surprising you with a performance.

Always up for spontaneous karaoke sessions and serenades you with your favorite songs. ("am I going to sing Daddy's home to you? Yes yes I am. Why? Because Daddy is home" 😘)

Invites you to his dorm room to listen to new music he's working on, valuing your opinion. ("okay don't laugh...ik this is the fourth song this week...and yes it's about you again")

Takes you to local gigs and concerts, sharing his love for live music.

Sends you playlists of songs that remind him of you. ("han jisung why the hell is this playlist 39 hours?")

Encourages you to join him in writing lyrics, collaborating on music projects. ("so...do you think I'm talented enough to sneak skibidi in a song and make it sound cool?" 😎)

Plans fun music-themed dates, like record shopping or attending music festivals.

Surprises you with mixtapes, filled with songs that have special meanings.

Invites you to late-night jam sessions, creating music together.

Takes you to quiet spots on campus, where you can enjoy acoustic performances. ("beautiful right?")

Always makes sure you have a front-row seat at his performances.

Celebrates your musical achievements, like performing at an open mic night.

Texts you lyrics that make him think of you, sharing his feelings through music. ("han why did you send me the lyrics to a veggie tales song?")

Holds your hand during slow songs at concerts, making the moment unforgettable.

Felix: Culinary Class Crush

Partners with you in a culinary class, instantly charmed by your enthusiasm for cooking. ("so cute and messy" 🥹)

Suggests cooking together outside of class, leading to fun and messy kitchen dates.

Bakes you sweet treats with adorable messages, brightening your day. (brownies obvs)

Takes you on picnics with homemade food, enjoying both the meal and your company.

Invites you to food festivals and markets, exploring new flavors together. ("wow thats spoicyyy" 🥵)

Shares his favorite recipes, teaching you how to make them.

Surprises you with breakfast at your dorm, showing his caring side.

Plans themed cooking nights, like Italian or Mexican cuisine. ("is it appropriate to cook to Despacito?")

Always makes sure you’re well-fed during stressful times, bringing you comfort food.

Suggests baking competitions, keeping things fun and playful.

Invites you to his dorm for cozy movie nights with homemade snacks.

Takes you to his favorite restaurants, enjoying the culinary experience together.

Always remembers your favorite dishes and surprises you with them.

Encourages you to try new recipes, always being supportive. ("it looks gross but its tasty I promise")

Holds your hand while walking through food markets, feeling connected to you.

Seungmin: Debate Club Rival

Engages in friendly debates with you during club meetings, impressed by your wit. ("dang...they kinda ate me up with that one I can't even lie..." 😳)

Suggests studying together to prepare for upcoming competitions.

Always respectful of your opinions, even when you disagree. ("it's a stupid opinion but I guess my type is people with stupid opinions"💀 )

Invites you to quiet places on campus for deep, meaningful conversations.

Shares books and articles that he thinks you’d enjoy or find interesting.

Encourages you to join him in public speaking events, boosting your confidence. ("you got this babe...")

Takes you to lectures and academic talks, discussing them afterward.

Always challenges you intellectually, keeping things stimulating.

Plans study dates in the library, ensuring you both stay focused. ("y/n look at me...not at the shirtless hooligan running around the quad...")

Sends you thought-provoking quotes and questions, sparking interesting discussions.

Invites you to his dorm for quiet reading sessions, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

Supports you in your academic pursuits, always being your biggest cheerleader.

Takes you to museums and historical sites, sharing his love for learning.

Celebrates your debate victories with thoughtful gifts and gestures. ("I got you this charm bracelet...how bout I'll give you a charm for each debate you win?")

Holds your hand during walks around campus, appreciating the quiet moments together.

Jeongin: Freshman Orientation Friend

Sees you doing something stupid and joins in, immediately drawn to your playfulness and kind heart. ("okay i got twelve cans of spray paint, 42 goldfish and one hour- you in?" - "is that even a question?" 😈)

Makes an effort to include you in his friend group, ensuring you never feel alone.

Often texts you funny memes and videos, making you laugh. ("look what I caught the professor doing")

Takes you on mini-adventures around campus, discovering hidden gems together.

Invites you to join his study group, helping you adapt to college life.

Shares his notes and study guides, always being supportive. ("Innie... you're an adult why are there so many doodles of- you know what never mind..."😐 )

Takes you to campus events and activities, making sure you’re having fun.

Always checks in on you, making sure you’re doing okay.

Plans spontaneous coffee dates, enjoying your company.

Invites you to his dorm for movie nights with his friends, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

Encourages you to join clubs and organizations, helping you find your place. ("I say we join the anti-cyberbullying club." - "babe you told a nine year old to jump off of a cliff on roblox last night...")

Surprises you with small, thoughtful gifts, showing his appreciation.

Takes you on weekend trips to nearby attractions, creating lasting memories.

Supports you during tough times, always being a shoulder to lean on. ("I know I may act unserious sometimes...but you know my love for you is real right?")

Holds your hand during campus tours, making you feel safe and connected.

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati

@seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang

@amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona

@shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings

@skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi

@neverendingstay @moony-9

[froggibus]

Roadtrip - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Baptiste, Lucio & Mauga

Genre: fluff, some crack lol

Summary: take a summer roadtrip with your favorite OW man

CW: irresponsible/reckless driving, cops (Cassidy's), drinking (not while driving I promise), Genji slander, camping, very fun summer vibes w this one

This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Cassidy:

definitely takes you through the midwest somewhere

insists on driving the whole way but its ok cause he has an insane sense of direction

like knows every road and shortcut like the back of his hand

tries to pretend like he doesn’t like your music but ends up singing along

loves stopping in old local diners

at least once the owner of a bar recognizes him and reminds him that he’s banned for life

and somehow he ends up talking the owner into letting you guys stay??

only drinks black coffee and pretends like he enjoys it

you forced him to try an overly sweet 6$ coffee one time and now he insists on stopping for one in every town

pretends to obey traffic laws but speeds whenever you’re on a backroad

a cop tries to pull him over and suddenly he turns into Max Verstappen and is offroading through a random field to lose them

“what the fuck is happening”

“I’m winnin’.”

you guys get takeout and eat it on the tailgate of his truck

stops at any bar that advertises live music 

will sing all the words all dorky to you and try to get you to dance with him

wants to stay on the road with you forever

Genji:

do not let this man drive he can’t drive for shit

wants to go somewhere neither of you have been before, but doesn’t really have a solid plan

matcha lattes at EVERY stop

you camp rather than stay in a hotel cause he never got to as a kid

like he’s never even tried a s’more or had a campfire before

chooses the most beautiful campsites ever with pretty beaches

neither of you can figure out how to set up the tent so you end up piling the blankets and pillows in your car and sleeping in the trunk

it’s surprisingly cozy though

also he totally winds up cuddling you for warmth

takes SO MANY pictures 

insists on using a paper map because he wants a more “authentic” feel 

results in you guys getting lost in the woods at least once

picks up handcrafted flavoured marshmallows at literally every gas station you stop at so he can make different kinds of s'mores

some of the flavours get wild too—like maple bacon or banana split

weirdly good at roadtrip games

brings his Switch or something so he can play Pokemon while you drive + names the ones he catches after the models of nearby cars

you end up staying on the trip way longer than intended because you guys have so much fun

Hanzo:

has a meticulously planned schedule of where you’ll visit and when

wants to take you through the Japanese countryside, maybe stop at a beach or two

very careful driver 

has a Nissan Versa that he babies and refuses to let you eat inside of (though if you bat your eyes at him enough, he’ll give in)

brings a polaroid camera so he can take pictures of all the beautiful sites

keeps the polaroids in a little folder tucked into the glovebox

refuses to get fast food and insists on stopping at cute local cafes

has packed for literally every possible occasion in only one tiny bag

you ask him to stop so you can buy something weird and obscure and he just so happens to have it

“I really wish I had Shrek 2 on DVD right now”

“check the glovebox”

???

has a soft spot for roadside fruit stands and had to stop at every single one to buy stuff 

the whole trunk is filled with fruit. there’s no escape

lets you play whatever music you like and will have your favourite songs memorized by the end of the trip

prefers experiences to souvenirs, but if you buy him a keychain or something he’ll treasure it forever

Baptiste:

annoyingly slow driver

everyone is passing you guys

has a pretty solid plan of where he wants to go but he’s open to feedback

has an immaculate sense for choosing the best local restaurants

always wants to try the most niche food combos he can find—like deep fried milk

needs to have his water bottle, an energy drink and a fun drink or else he can’t drive

wears sunscreen in the car and stops every few hours to reapply

cringes at your driving no matter how you drive and definitely gives you at least one (1) lecture about the dangers of speeding

loves tourist traps and wants to stop at every one you pass

insists on getting those dorky commemorative t-shirts from said tourist attractions so that the two of you can match

loves salt water taffy and looks for fun weird flavours wherever you find them

his entire centre console ends up being FULL of them by the end of the trip

he has the ac in the car on full blast to the point you’re shivering

not big on taking pictures but loves videos—he has about a thousand of the two of you trying new fun drinks and snacks

it’s been so long since he was able to be on the road without worrying about Talon—and he never wants to go back

Lucio:

nobody is more fun than him on a road trip

has a super fun car that he’s souped up and decorated to hell

the car has window tint so dark that you can’t see into it

does not obey traffic laws. you’re getting so many tickets, im sorry

buys those window markers so the two of you can draw on them when you’re bored

chooses the music and probably has a thirty hour long meticulously curated playlist

car singalongs all day

drinks so many energy drinks you’re surprised his heart still works

wants to stop in every single town to try their local specialties 

doesn’t really have a solid plan or anything, just wants to hit the road and see where you end up

wears increasingly goofy disguises when going out in public

“omg is that Lucio?”

“where?”

gets dragged into performing at least one impromptu concert somewhere

takes turns driving with you so the other can rest and reads out gossip articles about himself to entertain you

every hotel you stay in is a different gimmick and he goes crazy for it. the sillier the better

posts cute pictures of the two of you on his insta and is always taking candids

wants to make your roadtrip an annual thing

Mauga:

insists on taking his big ass Jeep that he refers to as “Little Betty” and refuses to let anyone else drive ‘her’ 

completely reckless driver too

drives with one hand on the wheel, music way too loud, the windows down even when you’re going like 110

he lets you pick the music as long as its upbeat 

constantly drinking some weird protein shake 

absolutely no plan of where he wants to go, just wants to hit up some nice beaches

has all of your stuff crammed in the back so high that you couldn’t possibly see out of the back window

drives in the sluttiest skimpiest tank top ever 

wants to try all the local cocktails and party in every town you stop in

gets drunk and becomes best friends with everyone he meets

needs to collect a Hawaiian print shirt in every place you stop in to commemorate the occasion

wants more than anything to teach you how to surf

he stops at every beach you pass and BEGS you to try it out

either wants to sleep in a five star hotel or on the beach with no shelter. there is no inbetween

takes one awkward blurry picture of the two of you throughout the entire trip and puts it in his wallet

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 01/07

Anonymous asked:i think youre the first liveblogger ive seen to actually remember that orphaner dualscar was eridan’s flarping name?

Mindfang clearly describes the Serkets, so I wonder if Dualscar says anything about the Amporas?

Eridan's greatest enemy does have a duality theme, after all - and he was certainly scarred when the guy stole his crush >:)

@captorations asked:i have terrible news regarding homestuck and the good place: https://x.com/nbcthegoodplace/status/1039908767763259392?lang=en not to mention that. well. the two share more than you've encountered yet. it's very likely not a coincidence. have fun! oh and. re: my ongoing campaign of pointing out the homestuck ancestry of tlt characters. please compare aradia's "i am very much alive and i intend to stay that way" with dulcinea's "i'm not in the river and i won't ever be again"

...oh my god.

On reflection, this makes a lot of sense. Homestuck's fandom is pretty large, and some of its members were bound to be involved in the production of mainstream media. Still, it's wild to see a Homestuck reference - or, technically, a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference - on the official Twitter for a show this big.

And Aradia does have a lot in common with Dulcinea, doesn't she? For one thing, they didn't really start influencing the plot until after they died.

Anonymous asked: Not really important anymore, but looking at what Gamzee has in his Strife Deck, it doesn’t look like he has any ranged options: he’s got the bowling pins, what appear to be a discarded sickle and lance from Karkat and Tavros respectively, what I’m PRETTY SURE is a whip of some sort, and the Zillyhoo hammer. The closest to a ranged weapon in that stack is the whip, or maybe the pins if he’s willing to throw them, but neither seem like they’d work very well against Vriska. Barring some secret power or other plot twist, I think Gamzee would genuinely be the underdog in that matchup. (Which feels weird, because Gamzee’s been mutating into a slasher villain while Vriska’s still very much an antihero protagonist. Usually the power balance is the other way around with those archetypes!)

On the face of it, Gamzee didn't seem to have great odds in that fight - but it's hard to know for sure with this pesky Bard. His Strife Deck contains plenty of cards we haven't seen, and whatever he did to the Black King is still shrouded in mystery. Everything's just so uncertain with him.

@mimescantscream asked: I've really been holding back all this time, but now that we've met the Grand-highblood, it really is extra painful to see a Gamzee who was once incredibly loving of his friends (despite their constant ridicule) end up falling down the path that fate seems to have pre-ordained for him. Was he truly always meant to repeat echoes of the past? Could things ever have gone differently for him?

Yeah, I've been having similar thoughts. His PoV seemed completely sincere, so I don't think his original personality was a fabrication, or anything. I think there is a part of Gamzee that cares about his friends - and maybe even he wants it back.

@jade-harley-real asked: […] I want a rant on the bad doctor from you pls pls pls

Scratch is straight up the scariest character in Homestuck.

What's he up to now? Hard to say since we're not telling him what to do. Guardians can never be told what to do.

The aura of menace he's cultivated is incredible, especially considering he barely even moves. He's playing the entire cast like a fiddle, armed with nothing but a typewriter and his own supercharged brain - and there's no doubt in my mind that his confidence isn't a mask. He knows he's going to win in the end.

English is coming. He's basically already here.

@elkian asked: I'll probably never be a Vriska FAN, but I gotta admit, she really never had a chance, what with the only adults in her life being: a trollvorous spider 1 missed meal away from eating her, Marquise "I do what I want" Mindfang, and Doc Scratch. Some role models! @manorinthewoods asked: So, now that Mindfang has been revealed, here's a question for you: how much of Vriska's Vriskyness is because she's Vriska, how much is because of Mindfang, how much is because of her lusus, and how much is because of Alternia in general? ~LOSS (20/6/24)

This is why I don't think she'd be like this on Earth. At this point, it's obvious that none of her Incidents were the result of her personality as it naturally arose.

I mean, look how anti-Aradiacide she was! They weren't even really friends!

Anonymous asked: ‘AA: there are all sorts of friends to meet AA: ones you already know and ones you dont’ I mean…couldn’t she just be referring to various doomed selves? I don’t see why the dream bubbles would just be confined to the alpha timeline seeing as the furthest ring is weird in terms of time and space

I was assuming that only Alpha Timeline deaths would be preserved by the Bubbles, but you're right - I'm not sure that was a reasonable assumption.

The Horrorterrors seem to eschew the concept of the Alpha Timeline. and, they've coordinated with both Doomed and Alpha versions of Rose and Dave. Plus, yeah, there is no time in the Ring, so timelines are probably meaningless there. Why would it only interface with the Alpha?

If the Bubbles do preserve doomed souls, then we might also run into the John who died to Typheus, and the Jade he couldn't save. That's a pair of ghosts I'd be very interested to meet.

Anonymous asked: If every Aradia comes back from every doomed timeline, the number would double each time, so you could get over a thousand of her with only ten doomed timelines.

Fair point- although, if an already doomed Aradia went back in time again, she'd be double doomed. Is that even possible? Would she die twice as quickly?

@mhafanlol2000 asked: Your issues with quirks and speech-to-text are pretty simple to explain. If a troll were to speak into a non-modified speech-to-text program, it would output text with their quirk. Because they, quite literally, speak in their quirk. Terezi probably isnt actually saying “YOU H4V3 LOST TH3 G4M3”, each number at a time, but the vibes are definitely there. I don’t know, this is hard to describe if you don’t inherently get it.

I think, jokes aside, it is indeed about the vibes.

In the troll intro pages, you get told a little about how each troll talks, and I think that's how we're supposed to translate their quirks to an audible medium.

Anonymous asked: i think ppl in the fandom have over time kinda built up a like, generally separate understanding of quadrants from how theyre described in the "official" explanation. which is like, not representative of how these terms are used in homestuck, but probably more useful for describing Good relationships that Do Not Suck. like basically making moirails equivalent to being queer platonic partners, making blackrom more about having a healthy fun rivalry, that kinda stuff.

It's funny, actually - I don't think I've encountered a single asker who accepts the quadrants as they're originally described.

The main issue is that, with the possible exception of matespritship, we haven't seen a single troll relationship with reflects the infodump's explanation of the quadrants. I think Hussie might just have jumped the gun a little when dropping it.

Anonymous asked: Shoutout to Karkat poking his friends in the background! Terezi (crying over Dave) and now Soloux (talking to Terezi). Karkat isn’t sure what the right response is but wants to be included! Reminds me of actual cats, just putting a paw on you for no discernible reason. @manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to note that Karkat poking Terezi's tears is the same sprite (and same 'poooke'!) as Karkat poking Sollux's burnt-out eyesockets. ~LOSS (12/6/24)

My man just likes poking.

@alicesoinions asked: not much to say just wanted to say I really enjoy your liveblog!!

Glad you're enjoying!

I've actually got a few new followers recently. Maybe I'm showing up in people's recommendations?

@heliotropopause asked: Dream bubbles are pretty neat, eh? Neat enough to inspire half of HtN, I'd bet.

…wait.

Oh my god, you're right. It's literally a River Bubble. They're both located in afterlives, for crying out loud!

Anonymous asked: Wanted to thank your liveblog for reminding me of a lot that I had flat out missed in canon, due to not putting it together or just reading too quickly. Most recently and notably on my mind right now, is that Feferi is the one who set up the dreambubbles!!! I had always thought that they were just a part of the world that readers didn’t know about yet, like how we weren’t yet introduced to Alternia and it’s moons until act 5. This went right over my head and it has me absolutely REELING (fishing pun included just for fef!!)

Feferi truly is the MVP.

I wonder what happened to dead Players before the Bubbles?

They're certainly not the only type of afterlife in the multiverse. Alternia has at least two types of undead, which implies that the Players are very, very lucky to have retained their personhood postmortem. Imagine this was what Feferi looked like in Jade's dream.

Anonymous asked: Knowing sollux, he probably already had coded his tech to recognize if his speech ever changed, and gave himself a different typing quirk for it, long ago. Not because he knew or thought it would happen, but because he thought it would be a fun coding project ((I know nothing about coding))

And yet, you somehow know exactly how we think.

Anonymous asked: Something I hadn’t really thought about, until I started reading this liveblog, is how much VRISKA ((autocorrect decided to caps that and I’m leaving it in lol)) was manipul8ted into a lot of her violence. Scratch pushed her towards vengeance against Aradia, and she didn’t want to go through with it. Did VRISKA ever tell anyone how much of her live she spent resisting these forces, or even really acknowledge it? She didn’t hide Spidermom, and arguably her need to kill other trolls was to prevent herself from being killed. BUT on the other hand, VRISKA voice would make it sound like a compliment “I almost didn’t kill you why don’t you appreciate me!!!!!!!!”

The thing is, VRISKA probably felt a lot of social pressure not to tell people she was coerced into her crimes. That would reveal that she was reluctant to kill, which is the opposite of what the Empire wants.

@manorinthewoods asked: You could have written a great Homestuck if you'd been Hussie. I think your style, if translated from reacting-to-comic to making-comic, would work great with what Homestuck is, and could have made a better product. I think you'd make a cerebral Homestuck, which would have been cool to read, except I would have botched reading it like I botched reading Homestuck in our Alpha Timeline. ~LOSS (11/6/24)

Thank you! I've tried to write before, actually, but whenever I reread my stories, they come off as esoteric, stilted and a little hard to follow. It's not an insurmountable problem, of course, and I really need to take a writing workshop at some point.

I'd love to make a webcomic, too, but my art also leaves a lot to be desired. I can adapt sprites just fine, but original drawings are hard, guys. Did anyone else know about this?

Anonymous asked: i counted just now, and only like 24 out of all 54 paradox space comics have zero spoilers. some of them are certainly more substantial than others (e.g. i counted ones that include jade’s consorts that you havent seen yet as spoilers) but a lot of them have Very Big Spoilers

It would have been awfully messy. I'm probably just going to read it once I've reached the Gigapause of 2013, and no longer need to worry about spoilers.

@bladekindeyewear asked: “Nepeta wasn't trying to pacify Equius, nor did she seem to be fulfilling any rigidly defined 'role' in his life. They just came off as very good friends, and their relationship was much better for it.” Well, maybe we ought to look at it through the lens of real relationships between friends? Once a healthy dynamic and boundaries are established, perhaps Moirails stabilize as long as they’re together.

That's a good way to interpret moirallegence - although, it does raise an issue with the quadrant that I'll be discussing on its own post, once I've finished the comp. There's no point in prehashing what I'm about to say, so I'll see you there!

Anonymous asked: karkats message didn't go through because of trollians narrative awareness feature, where it'll display something different in service of one of the several "all"-seeing entities, of which the reader is one <3 watsonian and doylist explanations are kissing with tongue

Since the fourth wall is an actual, physical piece of technology in this world, this isn't even that far-fetched!

@sashonya asked: So, as the session's timers continues to count down, what do you think will happen after The Scratch?

Beyond 'the session ends', it's difficult to say for sure. I think the two most likely possibilities are that the kids start exploring other sessions, or travel to a location completely outside the current scope of the comic. I am, of course, hoping for both.

@ericvilas asked: "I still believe that out of all the trolls, Karkat’s traits were featured the most prominently in humanity" yeah, I guess even humans aren't free from the effects of carcinization

CG: THERE IS ONLY ONE STEP. CG: AND IT IS ME.

[mustainegf]

ok so, i’ve been listening to teenage dirtbag all day and i got this silly little idea that i can’t get off my mind

which is like 80s james having a crush on popular reader? and he thinks she’s so out of his league, but in reality she has always liked him and later they find out they have so much in common

btw i love you’re writing, thank u so much for giving us so much good content! 💘

THIS IS ADORABLE I’m gonna cry this is so cute

𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ¹⁹⁷⁹

At seventeen, I loved only once, and she was way out of my league. Her name, so gorgeous, and she had everything I wasn't; popular, outgoing, filled with friends everywhere.

There was something so perfect about her, not to be underestimated, while I was merely one of the faces in the mass that made up my high school. I was the shy kid who kept tucking his head into his shoulders and always wore his guitar hung over his shoulder.

I'd watch her from afar, thinking surely someone of her caliber would never notice the class loser. Yet I couldn't help myself.

Every time she came down the hallway, her giggles echoing off the lockers, this strange longing would come over me. It was stupid, really. Why in the world would she ever look twice at me? She probably wouldn’t even look once…

One day, after a real long and tedious history class, I stood at my locker, just sort of fiddling with this combination lock. The bell had rung, and students who were rushing to their next class had started emptying the hallway.

But me, I was in no hurry. Already, in the head, I was mapping out the evening: go home, crank up my guitar, learn that new Diamond Head riff.

I was lost in thought and therefore didn’t notice her coming. It was only when she reached my side that I looked up to find her standing there. I froze, my heart somersaulting in my chest as she stood so close to me.

"Hi, James," she said, her voice warm and friendlier than usual.

I blinked. She knew my name. "Uh, hi," I stammered, trying to sound nonchalant but probably failing utterly.

She smiled, and it was almost like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "I've seen you around. You always seem to be carrying that guitar. Do you play a lot?"

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah, pretty much all of the time. It's, uh, kind of my thing”

"That's really cool," she said, and she sounded like she meant it. "I play a bit too. Mostly just for fun, though. What kinda music you like?"

It took a second for what she had just said to set in. She played guitar? I couldn't believe I had stumbled into a goldmine. Not only did she play just like I did, but she was so beautiful… and that’s all I could focus on. "I'm really into metal," I replied, now with a little more confidence creeping into my tone.

"You know, bands like Diamond Head, Iron Maiden, Misfits. Stuff like that."

Her eyes lit up, shocking me that she recognized of the names I’d just thrown out. "No way! I love Maiden!“

I smiled, and a something began to form that I'd never expected. "Yeah, totally..." I mutter through a wide smile, just staring at her gorgeous face.

We just stood there talking about the music, discussing our favorite bands and songs. I realized it wasn't all about popularity with her, she just plain loved music as much as I did. She was no longer this unreachable figure but a real person into all the same things as me. It was unreal. I just felt like I was in a dream.

Before that really good conversation had barely hit its stride, the bell sounded again, signaling the end of that break before the next class. I didn’t want the conversation from that point to be over, but before I could say anything, she gazed at me hopefully.

"Hey, wanna walk home after school together?" she asked.

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "Y-Yeah, I'd love to," I said trying to keep my cool, but failing miserably.

"Okay! Meet me at the front entrance after last period," she said with a smile before bouncing off toward her next class.

I let my jaw drop, watching her as she practically slipped down the hall, her beautiful hair bouncing over her shoulders.

The rest of the day just seemed to melt. Nothing could hold my attention as my mind replayed our conversation over and over again. I couldn’t help my minds from thinking about the most mushy and gushy things.

I thought about kissing her, gently and loving, running my fingers through her hair, cuddling with her, whispering sweet things to her while I set sweet pecks along her cheeks.

For the very first time, I felt that maybe, just maybe, she liked me too.

As soon as the last bell rang, I had sprinted towards the front door.

I was leaning against the wall, trying to look casual, waiting. A few minutes later, she finally came around the corner.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Y-Yeah, let's go," I smiled, falling in beside her.

We walked in somewhat comfortable silence for some time, the autumn air coating my lungs. I felt a bit nervy but in a good way, you know, like the feeling that could convince you that you're alive.

As we walked through familiar streets, glimpses of her kept surprising me, and I couldn't still believe this was happening in real life.

"So, what got you into metal?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, flipping the memory switch to when those first fist pumping riffs and pounding drums had grabbed hold of my ears.

"I guess it i related to it, being different and all. My brother leaves his drum Kit unlocked for me to play and I raid his records sometimes. What about you?

She smiled, her eyes very far away. "My older brother too. He's a huge metalhead. I used to sneak into his room and listen to his records when he wasn't around. It just kinda stuck with me, you know?"

I nodded, in awe at how similarly we’d come to this music. "Yeah, Music's got a way of getting under your skin.”

We just kept talking, there wasn't even a single awkward moment. We learned about more and more common ground, favourite bands and guitarists we admired, even some really obscure tracks we both loved from cassette trading.

By the time we came near her house, I didn't want our time to end at all. She turned toward me with a soft expression and looked a little shy. "Thanks for walking me home, James. I had fun with you."

"Me too," I said again, a feeling of warmth spiking inside of me once again. "Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"I'd like that," she said with a broadening smile. "See you tomorrow?

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I replied, and my heart felt like it was flying as I watched her walk up to her front door.

I couldn't stop grinning all my way home. Then I knew, maybe I was wrong the entire time. Maybe we weren't so different after all.

[infectioustomfoolery]

HALF LIFE HEADCANONS

(feat my man kade)

For all intents and purposes, this is for fun and any time period mishaps should be ignored. Part two eventually.

Gordon Freeman

- 5’10”, green eyes and slutty little waist, he/him, autistic, dumb little ponytail.

- So white. So very very white.

- Makes absolutely no facial expressions ever.

- Talks exclusively through sign language, but even then sparingly.

- Got a major staring problem.

- Probably trans idfk.

- He’s definitely gay or aroace.

- He has no idea he’s autistic, gay, or in love with Barney.

- He has PTSD and because of that he’s a prick to the Vortigaunts.

- Hopelessly addicted to morphine

- Anger issues but no one can tell

- Everyone in Black Mesa wants to fuck him silly.

- Derealization issues

- Really does NOT fw Alyx

- Regularly keeps up with Aperture Science

- Chell’s brother

- “I’m not gay, Barney.”

- He is. He so is.

- Definitely thinks Barney is a sexy beast in the combine uniform

- Plays DND and likes Star Trek

Barney Calhoun

- 5’6”, he/him, spectral heterochromia

- Gay and knows it

- Probably trans too fuck if I know

- Fluffy hair, permanent 5 o’clock shadow. He’s so goddamn hairy.

- If he doesn’t pluck his eyebrows, he’ll grow a unibrow

- Dadbod

- Alcoholic

- Literally never shuts up

- Every single guard in Half Life 1 is Barney. They’re all Barney. Always have been.

- The Blue Shift Barney is “our” Barney, though. I like to think he retained all the other Barney’s memories.

- Frat boy in college. He told them he liked football and now he has to pretend

- Poses infront of the mirror everytime he has a uniform on

- Understands Gordon Freeman perfectly literally no matter what

- He got a fucked up leg from the elevator crash.

- Cries over Gordon at least once a day

- Really hates all the Half Life 1 scientists. They’re douches.

- Gun enthusiast

- Likes conspiracy theories

- Lauren doesn’t exist, she never existed. He’s just a fat liar.

- Listens to Mitski

- Beefs with Adrian because Adrian thinks its funny but really does not care

- Southern as Hell

Adrian Shephard

1.) She’s a FEMALE

2.) She’s not a BOY

3.) and most importantly, She’s a GIRL!

- 6’5”, blue eyes, she/him (she has a preference for she but Does Not Care.)

- Butch lesbian

- Was in the military with Soldier from TF2. She played along with his antics and sort of “trained” under him.

- white, but very tan

- She gets hurt a lot

- Laughs obnoxiously loud

- Wears boxers

- Blonde, either a crewcut or mullet situation

- Probably has an eyebrow slit, but in a scar way not in a gay way

- Speaking of which she is COVERED in scars and bullet wounds

- Also freckles why not

- Very high pain/spice tolerance

- Fucking LOVES nascar (poor and stupid)

- Was able to make it into the military because when she was filling out the papers she wrote "yes" next to sex and the government just thought he was a normal amount of US Marine stupid

- Colette and Gina saw her from across the bar, and they really dig her vibe

- Her mask makes her sound really grovely and awesome (see: https://youtu.be/Fr8Jxm65EC8?si=5WvOpXfQerjM7G79 )

- She beefs with Barney

- Gets a kick out of annoying Gordon Freeman to death

- Probably makes thirst traps on TikTok

- Has really good abs

- Scout’s older sister

- So she’s from Boston

[writteninlunarlight-years]

(Hazbin Hotel) I got a (hopefully fun) challenge for you! How about a little scenario, headcannons, or heck, just a series of funny interactions with the following idea- Its about a shy!reader who gets super bubbly and fun when they are around people they know, but gets really quiet and introverted around people they don't. You know, the type of person where they take awhile to get out of their shell but once they do they are a HOOT. Anyway, the reader is friends with Charlie who ADORES them and loves hanging out with them. When Lucifer moves into the hotel, he quickly gets enamored with the reader, seeing them interact with his daughter and how fun they seem to be... the problem is, whenever Lucifer goes to talk/interact with them, the reader's shyness kicks in and they immediately clam up and start practically hiding behind Charlie.

I thought this would be a funny idea to play around with because Lucifer already has trouble talking to people as it is and now you have TWO losers who cant talk to anyone! :D

Someone New~

Lucifer x Reader

(Okay, so these are little scenarios based on the first meetings; they all lead up to Lucifer at the end, though. Plus, a little happy ending blurb)

Charlie: You were really quiet when you first met Charlie. You wanted to give friendship with her a shot, though, seeing as she could be the path to redemption. However, the fear of being perceived and messing up was sometimes too much. However, Charlie worked hard to help you come out of your shell. Starting with just using herself, she got you to warm up to her gently. Soon, she was your favorite person to talk to, and you couldn’t help but laugh and have a good time. As she added more people to your crew of Sinners, you trusted her judgment and let her help you open up. 

Whenever her father called to check on her, though, you would immediately clam up. You figured that with how nice and sweet Charlie was, her father had to be the same, but he was also the big boss of hell. Anytime Charlie handed the phone to you so you could say something, you would just squeak and run away from it. You didn’t mean to come off as rude; you just couldn’t imagine having a conversation on any level with the Lucifer King of Hell.

Vaggie: When Charlie found Vaggie and introduced you two, it was awkward, to say the least. Vaggie was entirely reserved, and you hid behind Charlie like a puppy would. As time passed and you overheard more conversations between Vaggie and Charlie, you grew more used to the girl. You were the first person informed about their relationship, which made you so happy for them. As you got used to having Vaggie around, she taught you how to fight in case you were ever caught up in another extermination or even on the streets of hell. Something you would always be very grateful for, especially when Adam came down.

The only time you couldn't be around Vaggie was when she was discussing plans with Lucifer about the hotel. Anytime Vaggie calls, texts, or speaks to him in person, you would be right back glued to Charlie's side or whoever was the farthest away. You had no vendetta against the Fallen Angel. He was just so powerful and imposing. You didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

Angel: You grew close to Angel the fastest. Something about his attitude and fluid personality was so calming and yet also chaotic. You needed your time to process his flirtatious jokes and advances. That was one thing you were never fully prepared for. However, Angel was really kind and knew that when it was just you two alone, he didn’t need to go all that far with you. You were just a shy, innocent one, and he could respect your boundary as long as he could be his masked self in front of the others. Angel was also the first person to bring up your fear of Lucifer. Any time Angel decided to talk about Lucifer, you would close off and retreat in yourself again. Angel would go on and on about how it was because you respected and loved the demon. You had to disagree, though, because you didn’t even know what love was, especially since you had a rough life around romance before your death. Angel was adamant that you were smitten with the big king of hell. Even went as far as trying to trip you into him on occasion.

Alastor: Alastor was the hardest one to get used to next to Lucifer. Whereas the king of hell thought you disliked him and gave you space, Alastor was the opposite. See, Alastor knew you hated people in your bubble, especially people you were not close to. He relished in making you uncomfortable and just always appeared just right there. Like all things, though, the more he did this, the more used to it you got till you were at the point you actually would seek Alastor out. Eventually, your distaste for one another turned into a friendship and a quite close one at that.

However, things took a turn for the worse when Alastor suddenly decided that Lucifer liked you. See, when he had this idea, he made it very difficult for the king of hell to be around you. He not only enjoyed watching you squirm when Lucifer was nearby but also liked watching Lucifer rage at his closeness to you. Alastor never understood something as fickle as love, but he knew it made people do crazy and amusing things.

Husk: Being the grumpy barkeep he was, it wasn’t until Angel forced you to sit at the bar that you two actually met. You stayed quiet and oddly close to Angel, but Husk chalked it up to you being another unfortunate soul who made one wrong move and ended up rotting in hell. Many nights were spent with you, listening to Husk and Angel talk and bicker with one another. After the first time, you opened up and laughed, Husk let out a genuine smile. Angel and he made it a game after that to see who could get you to crack first. This odd friendship eventually bloomed into you sitting at the bar and talking with Husk alone. This also led to you drunkenly admitting how attractive and breathtaking the King of Hell was.

Husk kept your affections and attraction to himself. Each night, when you would drunkenly confess more and more to him, it was amusing. It became even more entertaining when the King would show up at his bar just as drunk and admit his feelings for you. Yet you two would never remember due to the alcohol, leaving the only one to know about any of this himself. He was just a lowly barkeep, though he did not need to get involved.

Nifty: She was an odd duck, but like Angel, she grew on you quickly. Honestly, Niffty wasn’t around you much, but when she was, she was a riot. She was chaos in a small body, and it was hilarious. She was also good to just vent, too, as long as you gave her some super glue and bugs you found. Like Alastor, though, she loved causing trouble, so when she saw how the King of all Bad Boys looked at you, she was set on making something happen.

Nifty's pranks on getting you and Lucifer alone together were the worst. She wasn't doing it cause she saw the apparent pining between you two. She was just doing it cause hearing your squeak and Lucifer's stutters were funny. Eventually, she joined in with helping Alastor by making Lucifer walk in every time Alastor was all over you so they could debate how red his face got.

Lucifer: He had no idea why you hated him so much. From the moment Charlie formally introduced him to you, he was smitten. You were adorable and, quite honestly, as cute as a duck. He wanted nothing more than to get to know you and hear his name from your lips. However, you never stayed long when he was present. He could barely get a word in before you were gone or hiding behind Charlie. 

Defeat slowly crept in that he would never grow close to his little duckling. However, time would only tell as the hotel banded together in their own ways to get you two together. From Alastors jabs at Jealousy to Husk's knowing looks, even Charlie and Vaggie pushing you two around each other more and more, there was bound to be a breakthrough. You two obviously longed for one another from afar; you needed some excellent ol' communication.

With that said, when Charlie finally forced you two to be alone together, it was the most awkward moment of both of your lives. Lucifer couldn’t talk cause he was stuttering, and you were mute due to your fear of new people. However, you also saw this as your one chance not to fuck this up, and surprisingly Lucifer seemed to have the same ideas. As you both turned back to each other to say something, you collided, causing you to stumble and Lucifer to catch you. If you could be any more in love right now, then you would be. As if in a movie, all the pieces fell into place, and suddenly, it wasn’t scary talking to him anymore.

It still took a few tries before you were your bubbly self with him like you were with everyone else. Lucifer took pride in being the only one to bring out an even better new side of you. The loving and caring side that extended far beyond friendship.

Who knew that you could grow to love someone new~

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[zmediaoutlet]

Re: Jess/Sam. I remember this great meta post that goes through Dean and Jess meeting in the pilot, and how Dean is really just assessing a threat and then asserting his dominance in his relationship to Sam. Immediately Jess serves as something "getting in the way" of Dean and his family/mission. Its really interesting to think about this in terms of fic where Sam gets married. I also wish something could have been played with more in the Djinn ep dealing with jealousy or expectations.

I think I vaguely remember the post you're talking about -- that Dean is initially just kinda jokey with Sam, and then when Jess comes into the room and interrupts he goes into ultra prickly defense mode. "Asserting dominance" always puts my 'why are we over-applying psych terms to nuanced fictional characters' hackles up, lol. But it's true that Dean does that ott aggro flirting (partly, I think, just to be rude to Sam, who has still very much hurt Dean's feelings and they haven't talked about that in any kind of substantive way), and pushes Jess away so that he and Sam can be oriented inside the circle of The Secret which she's outside of. She does get in the way and Dean needs to move forward and this is his instinctive move.

More interesting to me, though, is that it doesn't work, or not exactly. Sam takes the obvious insult and goes and stands next to The Other Woman, and tells Dean that, no, she is not outside the circle -- that she and I have formed our own circle, with you outside it. And Dean goes, oh, really? Well, let's test that -- and it's Sam who understands that oh shit wait this really is about The Secret, and it's Sam who tells Jess to leave.

idk about any 'dominance' being asserted, but it's endlessly wild to me that Sam continually says that he wants (or wants to want) this good 'normal' committed life away from all that stuff, but he's not actually committing to the relationship with The Other Woman. In the pilot at least, Dean isn't really representing himself as-Sam's-brother (not least because Sam has clearly indicated that he's not interested in Dean as his brother, given that they haven't talked in two years) -- he's the call to action, he's the wild weird horror of hunting itself, he's the Not-Normal -- and Sam turns toward it almost instantly! Of course he has a sense of duty toward the family and toward making sure innocents aren't hurt, even if he's been trying to smother it with a pillow for four years -- but Sam leaps at the hunt, he's good at it, he's running away from a car with Dean and literally making a leap of faith off a bridge and lying to cops and driving cars through walls and having the best time ever. He goes back to the apartment because he's committed to the life he's told himself he should have, but he'd being lying to himself (and viewers would be lying to themselves, too) if that whole adventure were interpreted as some horrible thing Sam had to do. He had fun. He is a hunter. (And it honestly doesn't matter why -- whether he's naturally attracted to danger, whether it was all nurture, if you want to be one of those tedious familyhorror people and say he was stockholmed into it, whatever. This is who he is, and it's interesting to look at his behavior on that level.)

So like -- if Sam actually stayed? If he and Jess actually got married? Oof. That door got opened and it would never stay shut. I don't believe in taking deleted scenes as canon, but there is that deleted dialogue about how Sam looked up hunts when he was in college. And we see Mary doing the exact same thing, when Dean was a baby and she was ostensibly "out" of hunting. It's entirely believable that he'd not be able to fully stay out -- and, in the sense that hunting itself is represented by Dean, that he would also 'cheat' on Jess with his brother -- or want to, which is as close to the same thing as would make no difference.

You know, that line Constance has in the pilot? Sam says, I've never been unfaithful, and she says, you will be. Eager wincesties want to take that as a direct brofuckin' meaning, but that's an overreading, and honestly you don't need to take it that far to make it meaningful. Sam made a commitment, if not out loud then at least internally, that he was going to stay away -- at Stanford, in normalcy, with Jessica. I guess, in a terrible way, he's lucky that fate & circumstance tore him away from that life and forced him into infidelity, before he had the chance to be unfaithful of his own volition. It was coming. One way or another.

[simplydnp]

Sometimes I think Dan and Phil are totally platonic besties and then other times I’m convinced they fuck on the daily. I think they do it on purpose and it’s honestly iconic.

kind of the best thing is that they are that and everything in between. you can tell they just like being around each other. they've made content together for 15 years and the large majority of it was done in the strictly platonic sense for their audience. and they were still having so much fun with it. we're in the 'we know you know' era now so we get to see flashes of different dynamics they have, but they absolutely have more we Don't get to see bc they're not for us.

they like each other. stupidly fond of each other. spending time together doesn't feel exhausting. they're best friends and each others' harshest critics while being the biggest hypeman and also safe space.

dnp's relationship with us, their audience, always has been and always will be different than any other content creators. part of it is how they accumulated it, but another part is just the massive history we have with them. they Get us. they Know us. they're silly goofy sarcastic guys who love us and hate us sometimes. theyre grateful but careful too. they like to rile us up, just like they do each other. it's a love language, teasing, and we've shown positive responses to it over the years. i like to say that my relationship with dnp is antagonistic sometimes--cause i know they're pushing my buttons on purpose. and ykw? it's fun! it's fun for us and it's fun for them because they have the control. i know anything they let out is cause they chose to let it out because they Know how we are. so yes they absolutely adore messing with us. we're a funny bunch.

[britneyshakespeare]

can you imagine being a little twee simon and garfunkel fan in the late 60s and then buying your new vinyl at the record store and hearing mrs. robinson for the first time in your own home. i would’ve fallen over backwards

[kelocitta]

Tangentially related to some of the discussion i posted earlier but quiet literally the first RW Art Month i participated I did it completely on whim like, one day before it started. And I mostly did it because I hadn't drawn a ton of rain world and wanted to draw more. Fandom presence was a lot smaller than and I was one of a handful of artists who did the entire thing. Fast forward and I still do Art Month and I've gotten to work with VC directly. But it was quite literally something I decided to do completely on whim that set the ball rolling, and for something a lil more niche and certainly with a lot more dev/fandom art involvement than most. It's really random how and why you might get noticed more than usual, especially with the "toss it into the search and hope it pays out' mechanism of Socmed

[crescentfool]

happy birthday to my favorite horseboy 🥳

[19871997]

.

[garbagequeer]

how it feels to once again have to tap the sign*

*the sign: