#they look better when the cover more sometimes

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Josh Levy - Teddy Bear with a Lightsaber

He's not fat.. okay he's fat AND he's big boned.

Joshua “Josh” Aaron Levy [05/04/80] Secretary of Science Fiction AOL / Online Users: [JediJunkies_80] Theme Songs: Science Fiction Double Feature - Me First and Gimmie Gimmies | Ghost - Mystery Skulls | Aliens Exist - blink-182

Favorite Shit: Star Trek, Star Wars, Dr. Who, Twilight Zone, Kaiju, Stargate SG-1 Battlestar Galactica, Klingon, Alternate Earths, Firefly, Planet of the Apes, 12” Action Figures, Torrent Sites, The X-Files, Babylon 5, Akira, Farscape, Boba Fett

Despite his (well earned) grievances, he still hangs around these fuckers cause he can't really seem to find solace anywhere else, even online spaces. He didn't expect to find any enjoyment out of going to tournaments with Jerry, but an excuse to get good city food and walk around the comic shops they were held in were enough in his book to keep him coming back. He even managed to find a space themed tabletop he likes to play, and... y'know.. maybe other reasons..

But we don't talk about him shit uh IT UH--

Never tell me the odds.

Oh Joshybear my beloved you poor antagonistic shitsmear.

His mom is in the hospital a lot more often or just straight up bed bound, which makes him kind of never want to leave his room out of guilt.

Yes, this dingus still blames himself for it, though it's not like his father helps with that.

Whenever he isn't holed up in his room, he's trying to drag somebody anybody out of the house to do something. Anything to get his mind off of stupid emotional shit--

He often goes with Jerry into the inner city when he has tournaments, especially when nobody else really wants to go. Sometimes he even covers Jerry bus fair or just borrows his mom's car.

However, this fucker HATES driving. It makes him the most anxious he's ever been his entire life. It is nothing like video games and it is nothing like the Millennium Falcon, that's for damn certain.

He also hates trying to park because he is deathly afraid of hitting the side of someone's car with the door.

Josh actually doesn't meet Matt at the same time as Jerry, surprisingly enough. Jerry introduces them when they bump into each other at the shop for a non-tournament related reason.

Josh nearly had a panic attack on the spot but it's fine

The moment he heard Matt had never seen the Star Wars films he nearly lost his mind.

This became the entire basis of Josh's attachment to the dude: "I have to show him the cinematic masterpiece that is this damn franchise."

And that's all it is. Mhmm. Totally. Don't ask why his hands are clammy and he's even more show-offy than normal whenever he's around. Don't.

please?

He works with his dad at their Synagogue as essentially a secretary and sound technician, but hey, it lets him write his fanfictions Reimaginings and scroll through blogs in peace, right?

And it keeps him out of his dad's hair and the house, so it's kind of a win-win-win.. win?

I love him

I want to eat him.

A DOUBLE POST???? HJGDSAJKHDKSJALHDLK You're welcome

Also don't worry guys, you'll get a WHOLE lot more info on Matt soon. He's not an affiliated member of the club and I didn't have many drawings of him (despite my.. excessive notes...) so I'm cranking them out as I post this.

NOW LOVE THE BIG MAN ON CAMPUS DAMNIT.

also hi I know his pants look weird shut up nothing else looked better.

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Stars in Her Eyes

Part 2 here

Do you ever have thoughts that are absolute bangers, then realize “man I wish I was a better writer.” Anywho, brain worms, back again, Price is fighting self doubt about decisions in the field. Reader is fighting self doubts of ability and also a head ouchie. This was the compulsory preface my brain forces me to write before I can write the cool sex stuff. Metaphorical dinner before dessert. Big inspired by @beloveds-embrace , particularly the designationless!reader.

—

The blood today was excessive, to say the least. Bad intel, having to navigate this lab in the middle of nowhere Russia by foot in real time. Casualties. Thankfully the other side took more. And thankfully, none on the team, although the injuries were plenty. You were all very cognizant of the mental load needed to be a soldier but some days were easier than others. This one was the worst in a while.

Price and you were clearing a section of the building, warehouse by the looks of it. Doors locked leading to it, just to be met with rockets having eaten away at the walls like rats on the other side. Basically just outside, you thought to yourself, looking at the edges of concrete leading to treeline. Already beating yourself up about things outside of your control, Price sensed a distance in you. He felt it before you did half the time, although you’d never tell him that. “Head in the game, sergeant.” He pushed out.

You were a “great addition” to the 141, so sayeth official mission reports and calls to Laswell. Focused, fast, malleable in the field. But distant sometimes when out of the field. Not quite reclusive, like your lieutenant, but just distant. You were funny, sometimes even extroverted when you wanted to be. But something pulled you back, like a hand down a long hallway, snatching you into a dark room. Locked away and the key long gone.

Prices bite in his voice brought you back momentarily. “Hey, I said get in the fucking—“ A door blasts open and enemies filter through, a large man grabbing you amidst the motion, bringing you close to the edge of the floor that fell away to empty space, a few floors of nothing and the Siberian wilderness. Patting yourself down for a knife with one hand, and defending from being choked out with another, you start half in, half out mentally. Fighting should have been your priority, but the disappointment in Prices voice had you a little fractured. “I’m fucking this up, they won’t want me anymore, please don’t get rid of me, you’re the only—“

Price fighting through the rest of them, took cover as he saw you struggle. If you weren’t so distracted this would be one of the moments you’d love to watch him in. “A real flow state” Gaz called it once, as he moved as fluid as the wind. No wasted motion, a knife here, a bullet there. Propelled purely by the sake of making sure his team was okay. But you had his heart pounding. More than usual anyways. A half dozen men down, you stab at your assailants neck as Price makes it to you.

A double misfire in decision making, you think. As you stab at the man’s carotid arteries, Price heard more footsteps approaching. You just heard blood rushing and doubts. You just saw Prices angry face push you back into the void, hoping to god the snow and dead body behind you would break your fall. Your eyes would haunt him for a while. A broken “No” laying on his ears as he turned back.

—

Soap stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on his captain. Price was tearing through the now silent building, kicking doors in and scanning everything. Price reached them in a sorry state, covered in other people’s blood and moving as if he stopped he would die. “Lost ‘er in the east wing, need to get ‘er.” The rest of the team a little shaken by his lack of composure.

“Why the hell would she still be there?” Ghost fussed, making his way through hallways with the rest of the team.

“This part of the building was locked down tight. Seemed like they were protecting something, before Marakov damn near tore the fucking place down from the outside.” Gaz relayed. “She’s either there or in the woods shooting bears.”

Reaching the door to the wing, Price crowbarred it so fast, Ghost thought he threw his shoulder out. Wind and snow blasted down the corridor, as they filtered into the… room? Floor level hallway straight to the outdoors? Broken racking and file cabinets littered the floor, alongside snow and other detritus. Gaz noticed the bullet holes and gashes in the steel door. Someone tried to leave, but was unsuccessful. Sweeping the area they moved with purpose, until Price heard you first. Sniffling and singing, voice shaky. Coming around a corner to the view from the lower level this time, he saw you two. A large Russian, face down and bloodied in the snow. A missing jacket. A trail of various pieces of gear, and lastly you, curled up in a corner. Blood coming down your face from your hairline.

Their collective hearts broke at the sight, but only Ghost noticed his captains hands shaking. You were humming and singing a tune to yourself, rocking and rubbing your own chest, eyes unfocused watching the treeline.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You’ll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don’t take

My sunshine away”

Without a word, your team got to work. Gaz and Soap called for evac, thanking god there was enough flat ground for the heli to land next to the building. Ghost went back to secure the door to other visitors, giving Price some privacy to approach you.

He put a hand on your shoulder, as you jumped. A secret he held close to his heart was how much he enjoyed looking in your eyes. Like those fancy pictures the satellites take. Dark at first glance but always more to see the longer you look. Like stars were born in them. But all he could see now was the dark. No lights present in the deep space. A concussion very present however. And, confusion. Then hurt. Whatever knife he didn’t know he had in his chest twisted as you spoke. “You threw me away, I’m—“ A gasp of air as you fought to navigate the fractured thoughts. His eyebrows twisted as he tried to understand. “It’s not like last time, like home. I belong here, with you all. I… I’m. I earned it this time. Please don’t leave me here.”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t, no tears sweetheart. What are you talking about, who’s throwing you away?” He choked out as he snatched you into his chest, fingers gingerly holding your scalp and his lips whispering into your hairline, fighting tears of his own. “I would never throw you away, love. I’m so sorry, I needed you safe. I… I needed you safe.”

The other three approached slowly, wind preventing them from hearing the interaction. Price saw you shift to look behind him as he composed himself. Standing up slowly he turned to the team. “Evac in 10. How is she?” Soap asked kneeling next to you, taking your hand in his.

“Concussion from the fall, cuts and bruises. Fighting hypothermia.” He replied, voice rougher than usual. “Take it easy, not sure she knows where she is right now.”

As the heli landed, hands grabbed and led you gently, a seatbelt around your waist and pats comforting you. Most eyes were closed on the ride back, trying to get some rest after a nightmare of a day. John’s eyes stayed on the horizon.

[eeuni]

like him ! b.e

angst, fluff, daddy issues, sh & ed

you had experienced a loss that time would not fix. your father was going around in your mind, after years without knowing about him, you still carried him in your heart everywhere. he was not in a coffin underground, but far away from you. very far away, much more his love. ever since you could remember, his fights with your mother went beyond the limit, broken glass, bleeding knuckles and screams could be seen and heard. after those fights he would grab his things, ready to leave and not come back, telling you that he didn't want to leave you, but he had to do it so he could come back the next day, as if nothing had happened.

you grew up not knowing what to expect, terrified that he would leave again, tired of seeing him leave and come back. he would sit you on the chair, your mother and him crying, repeating that it wasn't your fault but that they were going to start a divorce.

one more lie.

you fell asleep with a bitter taste, at fourteen, what else can you do? bleeding thighs, mirrors covered with sheets, nights without leaving the bed that seemed like your body was slowly beginning to rot. your father took you to the river, taught you how to use a gun, made you laugh.

and for a moment everything seemed to be stable, at least for a year. another fight ruined happiness, confidence, the desire to stay alive. now he has finally left home. "he's coming back tomorrow" you believed.

It had been so long since you saw your father walk through that cursed door. empty house, relapse, therapy, and a new man in the house. your mother's boyfriend. what a detestable thing. your mother complained that you never went out, that you were always sad, that you missed your dad but he was not a good person.

of course you knew, you knew what he had done, but not by his own decision. you left that house behind, you traveled to another country, you looked for a different nickname, you started smoking and being alone as always but in another place.

while you were studying and working you met zoe, your new friend. you discovered that she liked the smiths, so you decided to invite her to lunch. now at 21 you ordered a bottle of alcohol. she told you about billie.

oh, billie.

the beautiful black-haired girl who gave you a smile all the time, who took you to the best places to eat, bought you flowers, did everything in her power to make you look good and happy. you liked her instantly, fell in love within months, and your fear appeared out of nowhere, one summer night.

billie adjusted the sheets of her bed where you now slept almost every night. she hid in your chest, watching you from below smoking a cigarette. her eyes were shining.

"that smells like shit." she spoke, laughing.

"yeah, i know, but it's different when you smoke it." you put out the cigarette, billie had bought about two months ago a cute ashtray with flowers on it for you to use. "you know what? i think i'm broken."

billie looked at you confused, you had said that out of nowhere. "the other day a friend and i were talking, she told me about the love she feels for her friends and partner." you kept talking. "and i was like 'how do you not be afraid? ' "

"about what?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"you know...that you don't know how to love and that in one moment you want to give them all the love in the world and in the second you don't want that person to repeat that they loves you or even touch you." you explained.

she thought about it for a moment, finding it difficult to speak.

"can i tell you something?"

when billie asked that you froze. if that was what you were thinking, you wouldn't know what you would do. you swallowed, sat up better on the bed and looked at her curiously, with fear.

"...yes."

"i think i fell in love with you."

a burning sensation formed in your stomach. of course you loved billie very much, so much that sometimes it was overwhelming and perhaps the fear of not knowing how to love her stopped you from taking any steps that would indicate that you need her. you loved her from afar, in silence, admiring her beautiful being for months.

"what if i hurt you?" was the first sentence that came out of your trembling lips. billie's gaze softened, placing a hand over yours. "what if i don't know how to love? what if i'm a copy of what my father is?"

tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, you began to feel the need to tear your skin off at the thought that you were living it all in your father's body, with his ideas, his traumas, his wounds that continued to bleed. you couldn't hurt her, even if that meant keeping all the love you had for her to yourself and taking a step back.

"hey." she caught your attention, you looked into her eyes again. "what your father is is not synonymous with what you are. you are not in his skin. you love in such a beautiful way, i noticed it. with me, your friends, with people you don't even know. would your father do what you do every day for the people you love?"

you saw him in the back of your mind, grabbing his bags and leaving you for the last time. the first time you wished for him to come back and he wouldn't. by this time you were crying, fighting with yourself.

"you don't mind loving someone who has disorganized attachment?"

"i don't mind loving someone like that, because i know very well that you can overcome any difficult moment." she smiled softly. "and that you love me too much to keep me away."

you laughed at billie's words. she was right, you had created a connection with her where you simply needed her.

"you're right." you proved her right. "i love you too much to keep you away."

"so...that means you're in love with me too?"

she asked, her excitement building behind her heart because she was sure you would say yes, even though a part of her was still afraid. you nodded.

you bit your lower lip and before billie could say anything you captured her mouth in a kiss full of sweetness. you felt every foreign wound beginning to heal. the foreign wounds that your father left on you.

no doubt your expressions were perhaps like his, your way of walking or smiling.

but your way of loving would never be a murder committed by the one where he left the lifeless body on your shoulders. with billie you would learn to leave all that pain aside.

(...)

two years later, billie was now your girlfriend, you lived together with shark. you were sorting through a couple of boxes containing things from your childhood, you looked through a diary you hadn't seen in a long time.

"she said that i made expressions like him.

my waist and my posture like him.

so do i look like him?"

a tear fell. you grabbed a pen, sitting down on the cold floor. you started writing in that old diary from your childhood.

"you can look like him

but you don't love like him."

you heard billie's sweet voice calling you to dinner. "my love?" she asked. you wiped away your tears but before you could compose yourself billie walked into the room, instantly getting worried. "baby! what happened sweetheart?"

she came over, crouching down beside you. you smiled.

"im just very happy."

you answered. your girlfriend's gaze fell to that old diary, reading those words. she didn't say anything, she just held you tight against her body, kissing your forehead. "i'm so proud of you."

"i'm proud of myself too."

you finally learned that life doesn't end when your father walks out that door of your childhood.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Supernatural: It Comes With The Job

Parings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Description: Reader and Dean go on a hunt and Reader puts herself in danger, once back at the motel the two have an argument about it, voices are raised, but in the end they make up.

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up

Warnings: Angst, arguing, swearing

Words: 1,635

I don't often write fluffy stuff with no smut. But I wanted to write something for Supernatural, I may end up writing a part two with smut, but I'm not sure yet. I wrote this at like 5am, so if there's any mistakes, kindly ignore them. Thanks! Anyways, enjoy! Let me know what you think! (Be kind!)

The tension was thick when you and Dean walked into your shared motel room, Sam had his own room, not wanting to share with you and Dean, knowing the activities you usually got up to. 

You had just gotten back from a relatively successful case. Successful because the vampire you had been hunting was dead, but it left you a little banged up, covered in bruises and a few cuts. And all because you decided to make a reckless decision, using yourself as bait. It had worked in the end, and you survived, but Dean was pissed. 

"You could of died" He finally snapped. 

"I got us out of there, didn't I?" You snapped back, not looking at him, you shrugged your coat off and threw it on the armchair. 

"You almost got yourself killed!" His voice raised, and his jaw clenched, from behind you, he glared. His hands were clenched by his sides. 

"That literally comes with the job Dean!" You yell, still not looking round, you weren't sure if you'd yell louder or cry if you met his gaze right now. You were in pain and wanted nothing more than to curl up into bed, but that wasn't looking likely. 

"That doesn't mean you need to be reckless about it!" He argues. 

"Says you, you're always reckless" 

"It's different!" He says sharply. You whipped round, anger pulsing through you now, he was closer than you expected, towering over you. You shot daggers from your eyes, feeling your face redden. 

"That better not be some bullshit, because I'm a girl thing!"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it" He stated, his tone dark "You put yourself in that scenario and you have gotten yourself-" 

He let the words hang in his throat and looked away, his eyes closing for a moment. You were still sneering at him, you sighed and looked at the pain in his expression. 

"Dean" You say quietly and a little softer "I knew I'd be okay"

"That doesn't matter!" He snapped, his tone a lot louder. "You almost weren't!"

You stepped back slightly, his yelling making you falter slightly. You hated when he yelled, it had always made you feel more stressed, and more angry. There was something about a men yelling at you, even Dean, that enraged you. Made you see red. 

"You're too damn reckless sometimes" He mutters. 

"And you're too damn overprotective sometimes" You mutter back, matching his tone. He scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. 

"Well, excuse me for trying to keep you alive" He retorts dryly. 

"I can keep myself alive" You mutter, copping his stance, folding your arms over your chest. 

"Obviously not if you're going to keep putting yourself in ridiculously dangerous situations" He mutters, looking away from you. 

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm alive right now" You say a little louder than before. Dean finally turned back to look at you, his expression hardened. 

"I did notice. I also noticed the fact that you could be dead right now, because of your stupid actions" He yells, his voice louder than your tone, it pissed you off. A lot. Enough to not think about what you say next. 

"At least if I were dead, I wouldn't be standing here being yelled at like some friggin' kid!" You snap, regretting the words as soon as you say them. Dean froze, his eyes widened slightly. 

He started at you for a moment, hurt clearly written across his face. He swallowed hard and looked away again, his jaw clenching. 

"Fine" He grumbles "Maybe you should leave then. So you won't have to 'tolerate' me anymore" 

"Dean" You say quietly, his words hurting you "I'm...I'm sorry"

"Save it" He replies in a monotone. It wasn't good when he shut down like this, especially when it was towards you. He stood there, staring at the wall, his hands balling into fists. 

You nodded, knowing he needed some time to cool down. 

"I'll be back later" You say quietly, grabbing your coat again. He didn't say anything. So you left the motel and walked across the carpark to the dinghy bar opposite the motel. It was lively, you grumbled slightly, not wanting to be around this many people, but you couldn't go back to the motel, so you ordered a drink for yourself. 

Dean had stayed at the motel for a while after you left, staring at the same piece of wall, fighting the urge to go out looking for you. 

Eventually, he decided to walk across to the bar, unknowing that's where you were. He walked inside and there you were, he spotted you sitting alone at the bar with a drink in your hand. 

Your eyes caught him, and your heart ached for him. You wanted to stop arguing. So you decided to play yours and Dean's favourite game. You often went to bars, pretending not to know one another, and then start flirting. You stood up and walked over to him, hoping he'd play alone. 

"Hi handsome, here alone?" You ask, smirking up at him. 

He was surprised for a moment, not expecting you to come up to him. Especially after your fight earlier. He understood the game you were playing and smirked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

"All by my lonesome" He answered, tilting his head as he took you in, clearly checking you out and taking in his fill of your form. 

"What a shame, why don't you let me buy you a drink?" You ask him, placing your hand on his arm, squeezing his muscles lightly. 

"Mm, that'd be lovely" He answered and put on his most charming smile, the one that made you melt every time. He ran his eyes over you again, and gestured to the booth closest to you, silently telling you to sit. 

You ordered him a drink and another for yourself, he took the drink from you with a quiet 'Thanks' and took a swallow of it. He shuffled into the booth, sliding all the way to lean against the wall, you slide in after him, opting to sit next to him. 

"Dean..."You say quietly "I'm sorry"

He was quiet for a moment, and you really thought he'd still be angry. His expression softened and he met your eye. You hoped he could see the sincerity in my apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry too" He murmured "Things just got out of hand, but I shouldn't have said what I said in my anger. I should've never let things get to that point in the first place"

"No, I said some horrible things, I didn't mean it" You say sadly. 

"I know you didn't" He replies, offering a small, reassuring smile. He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours, giving a gentle squeeze. 

"I'm also sorry I did something stupid on the hunt" 

"Are you ever not doing something stupid when you're hunting though?" He questions, with a smirk and a raised brow, though he tone was completely teasing.

"I could ask you the same thing" You say, matching his smirk. 

"Hey, I only do stupid when necessary" He retorts, his voice lighter than before, his tone still teasing. He smirks and squeezes your hand again, whilst also taking a sip of his drink. 

"Let's not argue anymore?" You say hopeful. 

"Now that I can do" He agrees with you. His thumb absentmindedly caresses your knuckles gently. 

"Though, I have heard that make up sex is really good" You say with a wink. He chuckles and raises an eyebrow, eyeing you up, obviously liking the idea. 

"Oh yeah, you've heard that, have you?" He asks coyly. 

"I have, it's facts, trust me" You say, moving a little closer to him. 

"Mmhmm, I'd like to see the source on that" He says, he smirks and closed to gap between you, pressing his leg against yours, his arm moving to hold your waist. 

"Luckily for you, I'm a hands on teacher"

A breathless chuckles escapes him at your words, his fingers on your waist gave a gentle squeeze. 

"Is that so?" He asks, lowering his voice and leaning close so that his breath tickles your ear. You nod and then move slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him into a tight hug. You needed it, after the arguing. His hands slide around to your lower back, gently you closer. He buries his face against your shoulder, breathing in your unique scent and letting it wash over him. 

"I hate fighting" You mumble into his jacket. 

"I do too, and I hate that I let my anger get the better of me" He admits, his voice muffled against your shoulder. He nuzzles against the crook of your neck, his embrace tightening just a little. 

"Me too"

"Then promise me one thing?" He murmurs, pulling away from you just slightly so that he could look you in the eye. 

"Yes Dean?"

"Promise me you won't pull another stupid stunt like the one you pulled on the hunt today?" He asks, looking into your eyes, a serious expression in his eyes. 

"I promise Dean" You whisper, hugging him tightly again. He held a tight grip on you in return, almost crushing you to him. He lets out a deep sigh against your throat as he buries his face against it. Kissing it softly, gently as a sigh of his appreciation. 

You held onto him, probably looking strange, hugging in the middle of a bar but right now, you didn't care, you had stopped arguing and that was all that mattered. He places a soft kiss to your skin again, and you forgot all about the arguing, just happy you still had him and you were happy with each other once more. 

[butlervibesonly]

𝑊𝐸𝐿𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝐺𝑅𝐴𝐶𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷 PART 2|| 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis story

PART ONE OF THIS PART → PART THREE coming soon...

• Summary: Evils shows Y/n Graceland as she spends the day here with him. Eventually, she also joins the Presley family for lunch, revealing the sad truth of her parents.

• Pairing: Austin! Elvis x female reader

• Warnings: flirting, making out, kissing, probably typos

• NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis!Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏼

• Note: Yall I apologize if its clingy or something, I try my best really 😭 AND MAKING OUT SCENES ARE NOT MY CUP OF TEA THIS JS ACTUALLY FIRST TIME EVER I WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS 🫨

Graceland is huge. You would get lost if it wasn’t of Elvis who shows you everything. Every little thing looks so luxurious and so rich. More like a house it feels like Elvis’ kingdom he’s living in.

“There, doll, is my bedroom,” he stops in front of big door. “I don’t usually let anyone in but I need ya go there.” There is a playful chuckle on Elvis’ face. You smile at him, knowing how lucky you are. “Well, that sounds really like honor.”

Both of you enter the bedroom which is covered in dark shades. Your eyes land on his massive bed and door to his own bathroom. “Wow,” you breathe out, your eyes exploring the room. Elvis stands next to you and you feel the warmth of his body on your own. “This is really - something.”

Elvis glances at you, smirking. “Mama’s makin’ lunch for us. Wanna sit before it’s done?” he gestures at the couch. You nod, sitting down. “Elvis… What did I do to… Y’know… Get this lucky?” you ask as he sits down beside you.

“Ya think it’s luck?” Elvis replies, with the cockiness in his eyes. “Y/n, I invited ya to get to know ya better, it wouldn’t be fair if I let you go hungry…” he, slowly and gently takes your hand into his.

You smile to his kindness and look around again. There is a guitar resting in the corner, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You look into your lap, fingers nervously tracing the pattern of your dress. Elvis sits next to you, hand supporting his head as he rests his elbow on the backrest. His eyes check you - it feels like he is eyeing every detail of yours.

“So, ya have always been good at school?” he asks, glancing at you with a curious smile. You nod and turn your face to look him in the eyes. “I kinda have to. My papa’s always been very... strict about it.”

Elvis tilts his head. “How strict?”

“Strict like... ‘Education is important, no distractions, no boys!’ kind of strict…” you answer, lips curling into a small smile when you realize how naive it sounds. “Guess I’m breaking his plans, huh?”

“Mhm… pretty much,” you laugh softly, but your gaze instantly shifts to the floor. “He just wants the best for me, I guess.” Elvis studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “And what do ya want?”

You hesitate for a while. “I mean, I want to make him proud, of course. But... sometimes I feel like there’s more out there, you know?”

“Then why don’t ya… do what ya want?” Your cheeks flushes, and glance at him shyly. “I would love to, really. But I’m afraid,” you start, your voice trembling. “I’m afraid that if I didn’t do what he wants, I might never get the bright future he promises me.”

Elvis shakes his head, his eyebrows raising. “Hmm…” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t treat ya like this, doll. If you were mine, ya would have everything.” At this your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?” you ask confused

“If you were mine,” he says his voice dipping deep enough to make your heart race even more than before , “ya would have everything ya ever wanted. Freedom, adventure... Ya wouldn’t have to live by anyones control, Satnin.”

‘Satnin’ replays in your head. He calls you either Doll or Satnin…

“I’ve never met someone like ya before. You don’t want anything from me. You’re not... trying to be someone you’re not.” he leans closer his finger removing some hair from your face.

Your chest tightens at his touch, and warmth spreads through you at his words. “Well, maybe that’s because I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be, yet.”

“Maybe that’s what makes ya so special,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper. What Elvis actually does is that he leans even closer, stopping a short distance away from your face to give you a moment to pull away if what he's planning isn't something you want to do as well.

But you don’t pull away. You and him did this before, after all… Elvis presses his lips against yours softly. His full lips feels so gentle on yours. It's almost as it was for the first time but there is one difference - it's more intense now. His lips are more warm and they part slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. His hand travels on your hip, while the other hand cups your cheek carefully.

He quickly pulls away, his both hands now on your hips so that he can carry you all the way onto his lap. You sit astride in his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you again more greedy.

“Elvis-” you breathe out against his lips. However, he doesn't let you speak and before you can say anything, his lips are on yours again, biting your lower lip. His big hands roam your body gently, sliding from your curves all the way to your back so that he can pull you closer to his chest. Closing the gap between each other, you tangle your fingers into Elvis' dark hair.

You feel like a swarm of butterflies is flying in your stomach from the tingling you noticed earlier. Elvis girns into the kiss, knowing damn well how he makes you feel. “Elvis, I-“

“Doll,” he trails his kisses on your neck. “You feel like everything to me, angel.” he sighs, and you feel his breath on your skin.

“Bewbie! Lunch is ready!” As much as you would love to continue this, you both pull away from each other. Elvis presses his forehead against yours, rubbing both of your hips. “Guess ya will have to come more often…” You smile at his statement.

Both of you eventually gets downstairs where the dining room is just across the living by the stairs. The dining room looks as luxurious as the rest of the house. The table is set with plates and a food along with glasses. You almost gasp at the look of it - Gladys did this all because of you.

You sit in your chair, hands in your lap, trying not to fidget with them hem of your skirt under the gaze of Evlis’ mother. Gladys is a petite woman with soft, dark curls her eyes looking serious but actually she is very kind.

“Now, don’t you be shy, sweetie,” Gladys says motioning toward the plate of fried chicken. “Go on and help yourself. I made plenty, hope you’re gonna like it.”

“Thank you a lot.” you nod, your voice soft as you reach for a piece. Across the table, Elvis gives you an encouraging smile. “Mamas chicken’s famous around here,” he smirks. “Ya are in for a treat.”

“Stop it, now, El,” Gladys says with a laugh, swatting at Elvis playfully. “Don’t let him fool you, darlin’.” Gladys leans forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and questions. “So, Y/n, tell us a little more about yourself. You’re a student, aren’t ya?” You nod, taking a look at Gladys and Elvis. “Yes, I am. I’m finishing up university this year.”

“And what’re your plans after that?” Vernon joins in, his voice carrying a note of authority, just like Elvis’. “Well,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “My parents wants me to have the best future possible. So that I’m successful and surrounded with the best only. They’re... really serious about education.”

Gladys tilts her head up, her expression softening. “That’s good of ’em, but you don’t sound too sure about it, darlin’.” You hesitate for a second again, knowing Elvis asked you familiar question earlier. You glance at him briefly before lowering your sight to the plate in front of you. “I’m not quite sure yet… They’re real strict, y’know. Always have been. I think they just want what’s best for them and not for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but that sounds like they are fools,” Vernon says. “They kinda are…” you admit, your voice quieter. “They’ve got all these rules, especially my father. No boys until I graduate, no distractions, just school. Only school. Sometimes I even feel like... like I don’t have a chance to figure out what I really want.”

Gladys’ brow furrows and she eventually reaches across the table to pat your hand. “Bless your heart, honey. It must be hard to be in your position. But y’know, you can always reach out to us and we’ll help ya. You’ll figure it all out, I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you so much.” you say, your cheeks blushing at Gladys’ kindness. As much as you love your mama for raising you up and giving you all what you need, she would never step in like Gladys does.

“Well,” she adds, leaning back in her chair with a smile, “I can see why our boy’s so smitten with you.” Your eyes widen, and you glance at him. He grins, leaning forward to prop his chin on his hand. Even tho what just happened between the two of you, you couldn’t stop getting more surprised.

“Mama,” Elvis steps in, his tone teasing, “don’t say this, ya scarin’ her off.” Gladys laughs, waving him off. “Oh, shush, Bewbie. I’m just sayin’ she’s a sweet girl! You could stand to keep some better company, what with all them girls chasin’ after you.”

Vernon chuckles, nodding. “Your mama ain’t wrong about that.” You can’t help but laugh, your nerves easing just a little as the conversation continues with some fun stories, and all the jokes. You feel so welcomed here, almost as if you belong there.

As all of you start to clear the table, Gladys pulls you aside. “Y/n, sweetie,” she says softly, her hand holding yours, “I know it ain’t always easy standin’ up for whatcha want, but don’t let nobody decide your life for ya, y’understand?” You nod, the words settling deep in your heart. “I’ll try, I promise, and... Thank you Mrs. Presley- I mean. Gladys,” you remember she asked you to call her by the first name.

“Y’all welcomed me with open arms and… I never felt better. Not even at my own house. And I mean, I know Elvis just for few weeks but this all means a lot!”

“Oh, darlin’, I can see ya two are just gettin’ to know each other,” Gladys points with her eyes at your neck. You rub your neck confusedly, turning to see a reflection of yourself in one of the mirrors that are almost everywhere in the house. You see a slight hickey on your neck, and you gasp.

“Oh, dang it!” your hands flying over your mouth. “My father will loose his mind!” you turn back at Gladys, panicking. Her hands travel to your shoulders as she clearly wants to calm you down. “No, no, we can fix this,” she gestures you to stay here and walks somewhere.

As Gladys returns to you, she carries a bottle of makeup in her hand. “We’ll cover this up with makeup, sweetie,” she helps you cover the hickey Elvis left there. You never felt more embarrassed but clearly Gladys doesn’t really mind at all. “Keep this,” she gives you the bottle. “I have plenty of those,”

You smile at her gladly and Elvis appears in the door. “Ready for some music?” he smiles. The two of you together enjoy his music as he plays the piano or his guitar, and you enjoy so much fun.

As time comes for you to go back home, Elvis gives you ride back home. You wish you didn’t have to return home actually, because you felt so free and so independent. As Elvis stops in front of your house, he reaches for your hand, hidden enough so that your parents wouldn’t see in a case they would be looking.

He notices the pout on your face and he leans in loser. “Don’t be sad, doll,” his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will write ya and call ya if that will be possible.”

You smile a little, knowing you mean something to him. “Thanks, Elvis. For today and for… for everything.” you breathe out, looking over at your house. You see that the kitchen window is opened, definitely so that your parents can hear you arrive. “Your mama is such a sweet woman and your dad… I wish I had parents like you. Because you have freedom.”

Elvis furrows his eyebrows, squeezing your hand tighter. "Graceland is always open to you, Satnin,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief and see your father looking out the window. "Now go, honey, or I'll never let ya see me or be with me again." You let go of Elvis' hand and get out of the car.

You turn at the door to wave and mouth, "Bye, Elvis." He nods in farewell, his eyes gleaming. As you enter the house, your father is waiting in the hallway. Your hands are clenched into fists, waiting for him to ask or worse - notice something. You covered your hickey with Gladys's makeup before leaving Graceland, but you're still overcome with fear.

"How were ya?" he asks, his eyes scanning you. With a deep breath, you searched your mind for an answer as the memories from today started to come back to you. "Amazing, papa, everyone was nice to me," you replied, heading to your room. "But I'm tired now. Good night."

As soon as you get into your room, you shut the door behind you and fall down on your bed. You can’t stop thinking about Elvis; about the things you two have done, and how you felt that you are his girl. You know one thing for sure - you love that man with your whole heart.

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

Can we have any insight into what’s going on in Lance’s head up until this point in the fic? What’s his opinion on Planet Red and Keith? (And the baby!)

thanks for the question!

ok, so, i spent most of the day thinking about how to answer this question and i'm still not quite sure? i might be overcomplicating things — i tend to do that, but it feels like a broad question since a lot has happened (it's a lot to cover lol). and i feel like i'll just be overexplaining things we already know. 😭 i'll be trying my best!

okay, this is going to be long and filled with spoilers, so if you haven't read sex is better on the moon to the current chapter (15), don't read this! putting this under a read more too.

so most of Lance's thoughts are in dialogue, actions, and subtext.

What Lance Thinks of Planet Red:

he's not jazzed about a planet that keeps trying to kill him, but it's also fear that stems from ignorance of the world around him. he complains a lot, but then there's the unicorn who brought him fruits (impressive), the kazoo bird that landed in his hair (cute, but embarrassing), and his baby girl, (the absolute best thing to ever exist!) so he understands there's both good and bad on this planet. he's also seen Keith handling animals and how it softens him, and that just makes him more appreciative.

the fact that they're dangerous animals sometimes, and Keith doesn't tend to show fear is also really reassuring to him and lessens his own!

then Keith teaches him things, and you'll notice a significant drop in his fear and complaints. and when Keith shows him the notebook, he reads the notes and realizes there's a lot more to observe about the world around him than the superficial. he starts seeing things differently. he pauses to look at creatures and plants.

and when Keith shows him the glowing flowers and moths, it's like the last nail in the coffin. he realizes Planet Red can be beautiful, and he comes to understand a little better why Keith likes it so much there.

What Lance Thinks of Keith:

at first, he's wary and unimpressed by what he sees, even a little afraid of Keith. he's just crash landed on the planet and he's scared and alone, and there's this wildman that looks more beast than man. keep in mind that Lance is the crown prince, and thus has never been treated like Keith has treated him in his life.

people always present their best faces (even if they're false or sneering) in front of Lance, and he's used to that. but then there's Keith who manhandles him and scoffs at him and throws blankets at him. he treats Lance like he is just another person who has to earn respect instead of automatically (forcefully) giving it.

and how does Keith start off? by being surly, rude, and intimidating.

Keith also calls him "princess", which leads Lance to believe that Keith knows who he is, and might even have something to do with the attack on his ship, hence the distrust in the beginning.

and then Keith keeps saving and protecting him (and despite Keith's bark, he keeps letting Lance have his way) even when Lance sometimes makes things harder for him. he's concluded that Keith is ornery and antisocial, but Lance begins to see that there's an actual person under all the hair and dirt. and he finds that Keith could really be someone he can depend on.

this leads him into revealing his name.

then Keith actually starts a tickle fight and calls him beautiful, which takes Lance off guard and makes him realize that Keith's not just the man that's helping him, but a man, with desires and wants, that thinks Lance is beautiful. suddenly, Keith isn't just "that mountain man who helps me", but "that man of flesh and blood who might genuinely find me attractive and i'm entirely alone with at all times".

at this point, Lance is well aware that Keith has an attractive body, given he's seen him naked a few times already and also been held against that muscle at night.

but finding someone attractive doesn't mean he wants to start something, and it goes for both of them. so Lance keeps his boundaries pretty clear and firm! he's very adamant in Keith not peeking at him while he changes, bathes, pops a squat etc.

at the same time, Lance is trying his best to get to know Keith, and Keith keeps resisting until he finally gives in at the swamp, where he tells Lance he's from Earth and lonely sometimes.

and when Keith gives him the comb for his hair, Lance learns Keith is thoughtful and actually listens to him when he talks.

skipping Keith's poisoning. Lance was terrified the entire time.

When Lance gets to see Keith's notebook with the various sketches of himself, he realizes Keith doesn't just find him attractive, but that he likes Lance. you don't just draw someone over and over without feeling some type of way, ya know? and Lance might be clueless about survival, but he's not socially inept like Keith is (and he learned survival from Keith, so he's not clueless about that anymore either!)

the most significant change happens after Keith takes Lance frog gigging. that night, it's the first time that Lance doesn't get on Keith's case about peeking at him. Keith is the one who brings it up and turns away, but Lance didn't actually say he should look away. before this, Lance was very quick about snapping at Keith. so... 👀 i believe this says everything.

from this point on, Lance starts flirting, flustering Keith.

it doesn't last very long, though, as this is when the pollen makes them fall asleep, there's the alleged dream of the yellow caterpillar, and Kosmo nearly dies, and then the bird woman shows up.

and now there's a point of contention between Lance and Keith, because Lance has realized Keith has a tendency to throw himself in harm's way to save Lance, while Lance wants nothing more than to watch his back and help in any way that he can.

Lance is also sticking up for himself and establishing himself as Keith's equal, such as when he tells Keith not to shove him again. he's pushing back against Keith who has so far done all the leading and decision-making. he's trying to prove that he can be a partner instead of a weight to carry.

then Keith starts putting distance between them, and Lance is hurt by that. thus far, he has been attempting to get closer to Keith, chipping away at his layers, and suddenly, Keith is saying that once Lance leaves, he'll never come back. we saw Keith be confused by Lance's sudden emotional distance and snappish attitude, and it was a direct reaction to Keith's claim that Lance "can forget about this place entirely".

and we're back to the glowing flowers and moths.

this was a very big deal. so far, Keith has proven himself to be kind of a hardass who drives them both hard for the sake of keeping Lance safe and them both ahead of The Six. but then Keith stops them at a pond for a little date (not a date, but so totally a date, we all know it). and several things become very clear to Lance

1) it's in the opposite direction of where they need to go.

2) they only have eleven days to get to Keith's cabin.

3) The Six are still around

and yet, there they are. because Keith thought Lance would enjoy it.

now, it's not a secret that Keith has certain feelings for Lance. Lance knows this! it's as obvious as the nose on his face! but Keith insinuated they would have no further contact after Lance leaves.

and so this date pretty much cements the idea that Keith is once again being socially inept and/or pulling away on purpose, and that it's up to Lance to make it clear what he wants between them. thus, the flirting picks up again, but it's like flirting with a brick wall tbh. Keith is NOT making it easy.

now, i'm sure we've all noticed Lance has a secret. seeing as we're heading toward it, i won't say much more on the subject, but HOO BOY.

What Lance Thinks of Kosmo:

perfect in every conceivable way. 1000/10. wouldn't change a thing.

What Kosmo Thinks of Everything:

Planet Red: lives here! it's perfect! plenty of food and room to play!

Lance: doesn't know how to use his nose, but still a perfect adoptive parent! beautiful! good hugs, excellent scritches! makes noises that make the tail go swoosh-woosh. always has food, love, and attention for Kosmo! 1000/10

Keith: also doesn't know how to use his nose. protective pack leader, but bad mate material. keeps ignoring pheromones potential mate is putting out. forgets to let potential mate eat first. doesn't participate in social grooming but allows attempts from potential mate. gives good scritches and always leaves best pieces of food for Kosmo. 999/10

-

anon, i hope i didn't misunderstand your ask (i haven't eaten, so i'm not firing on all cylinders orz). if i did, then that's my bad. feel free to ask for clarification 😅 or if you wanted a specific scene, you can ask for that too!

[sammyluvr]

✶ love you like that — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, tfem!roommate!sam, college!au, insecurity, kissing, unedited, 783 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : under beige sheets and a grey comforter + “you’re loved.” “but how do you know?” “because i love you.”

the twin sized beds in your campus apartment are a tight squeeze for two people. and sure, there’s two beds, but you and sam make it work for movie nights and the likes. maybe sharing a bed like this is more than friendly, but so are lots of the things you do together.

she’s just very shy, very unsure of herself. but she’s the most comfortable with you over anyone else. you’re the first person she came out to, and the first person to really support her too. it was terrifying, but being herself around you isn’t so scary anymore.

her head rests on your shoulder, and the movie on your laptop is long finished with the dvd already back in its box. earlier this year, she’d wished her beige sheets and dark grey comforter were more feminine. so you told her you really liked the minimalist look and were tired of your old sheets anyway. you gave yours to an old friend moving out of their house and in need, took sam’s so she wouldn’t feel like they were going to waste, and went shopping for new ones with her. so when the two of you are curled up in your bed, you’re warmed by grey and beige, like tonight. and when you’re in hers, the sheets are a subtle lilac and the duvet is off white with little flowers and ruffles around the edge. she said she thought it was a bit much, but you could tell she really liked them. 

she looks very pretty sleeping in that bed, surrounded by pastels and ruffles that match the white nightgown she wears on the hottest summer nights. that dress makes her thighs look so pretty, her chest too. you have a hard time not staring when she wears it.

tonight, she’s quiet. you can feel her hesitation, her tendency towards insecurity. you understand her, of course it’s hard. she’s tall with naturally wide shoulders and strong facial features. but you think she’s so pretty, likely the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. tonight she’s in sweats and a cami, it’s not hot enough for that dress. if it were, neither of you would be under the covers. simple grey blankets both of your legs instead.

“sam,” you murmur, finally shutting your bulky laptop shut.

“mmm?” she hums in response, trying to sound light and untroubled. you know her better than that.

“you’re loved,” you say without any prompting from her at all. “for you. you know that, right?”

she hesitates like she doesn’t know. it’s hard to remember sometimes, hard to feel like it’s true. her voice is small and quiet, like she’s nervous to ask, knowing you get sad when she doubts herself like this. and yet, you reassure her with enthusiasm each and every time, and it always means the world to her. “but how do you know?” she whispers.

you give a small smile, a knowing one. she can’t even see it from where she is. “because i love you,” you say simply. so simply. you’ve said it before. you’re the type of friends who say i love you. but usually it’s casual. you always mean it, but normally, it’s on the way out the door, a friendly love ya! when you won’t see each other for a little while. it’s said while laughing about something stupid, like it’s just an appreciation for the other’s humor and silly thoughts. the way you say it this time is very obviously more. she still takes it as something friendly. in a moment of vulnerability, you’d have said this to her as a friend, too. that much is true, but you know what she means and she’s in denial about what you mean.

she sighs softly, grateful for your kindness, but not so convinced. “i… i know, i mean like–”

“i know what you mean,” you cut her off gently, “that’s what i mean, too. i love you like that, sam. i swear it.”

sam’s a shy girl, but she just has to see your face to make sure you’re not being mean, not saying something just to get her hopes up and then dash them to the floor. you’d never do that, of course. she lifts her head and turns to you, eyes soft and a little pleading too. you meet her gaze with unending sincerity and a patient sort of love.

she grabs your face in both pretty hands and kisses you with enough force to nearly knock your head against the wall behind you. you don’t even startle, just kiss her back with enough force to keep you both safely tucked in the plush of all your blankets and pillows.

[coyotelip]

wolfstar microfic: religion || hospital au extra || @taylorswiftmicrofic || NSFW || wc: 553

There are not many personal items on Dr. Lupin's desk. The pens in the stand are all basic pastel colors, and there are no sticky notes with important information on his computer screen. There are several thick books on anatomy and surgery on the shelf. One of them is open on the table in front of Sirius, with notes on the sides of the paragraphs and illustrations in smooth calligraphic handwriting that Sirius himself, from the height of his experience, does not yet understand. 

There are only two frames with photos on the table - one shows a slightly younger Remus in a robe and graduate cap with a diploma in his hands, and next to him is a short woman in a floral print dress. Her hair is streaked with gray, but the brown hair that Remus inherited is still visible. The second photo shows Dr. Lupin in his white lab coat and in a familiar hospital corridor, and his companion is a redheaded girl with a wide smile. Sirius is surprised that he does not identify the girl, because the photo does not look so old, and he is already familiar with most of the local doctors. 

And between these photos is another small frame, the contents of which surprise Sirius: an icon. It is small and not fancy, but painted in bright colors. In fact, Sirius would never have thought that religion could mean anything to Dr. Lupin. However, he noticed more and more small icons of saints on the doctors' tables. “We are not Gods,” a man had told him earlier. But it seems that they sometimes believed in gods.

The Virgin Mary looks at him with the tenderness with which his own mother had never looked at Sirius. 

A lump forms in his throat.

Sirius tries to clear his throat as quietly as possible so as not to draw attention to himself, but it is useless.

Remus' voice sounds a little muffled from under the table where he kneels between Sirius' legs. “Are you okay?” his voice sounds worried, but in the man's sparkling and slightly frightened eyes, Sirius doesn't see concern for him. It's fear that Remus has done something wrong. 

“No, Doctor... I'm fine,” he covers his mouth with his hand, and Sirius' answer sounds a little shy, as expected of a student intern assisting an experienced surgeon. But it's not the right tone for the situation when the said surgeon is kneeling in front of you, his hand wrapped around your erect dick that was in his mouth just a few seconds ago. 

“I'm sorry if I'm... not very good at this,” Remus says shyly as he tries to gently knead his dick to keep it hard. 

Truth be told, the blowjob from Dr. Lupin hadn't been... the best Sirius had ever had. Far from it. He could tell without being told that the man had no experience with any cocks other than his own. But the twinkle in his eyes and the diligent movements of his tongue showed his desire to be better, and Sirius couldn't ignore it. 

Some talents just need to be given time, so Sirius says, “No, you're doing great, keep going,” and continues to look at the encyclopedia spines and fake plants in the corner and dream of his own office.

[swanqueen-is-the-story]

Okay, here's the thing... I've always LOVED the big coma theory from Operation Out...

BUT THIS RIGHT HERE makes the show MORE SWAN QUEEN!!

Like, I totally understand why people hate coma theories, I hate it too most of the time 'cause it sort of erases everything that happened in a show or a book, and makes it a dream.... But, that's not the case with OUAT, and I LOVE THAT! Like, yes, give me MORE TO CHEW ON!

All the emotions are not erased by this theory, and I love that the Swan-Mills family is still THE HEART OF THE SHOW!

This opens up the possibility of so much Swan Queen that we haven't witnessed but that's told metaphorically... Like, maybe in the beginning, Emma was not very responsive, but then she's kinda back and forth, so she isn't completely cut off from Regina and Henry.

She's sometimes moving and talking. So Emma and Regina are interacting, they just have to work super hard for it... like they're on opposite sites of the town line.

Or imagine Regina mocking an Emma who says weird fairy tale sentences... and a Regina who is so lonely that the only person she comes to talk to is a woman who is half-conscious... because it's safe. But then still being snarky about it like:

Sidney: The only thing I really learned was that she doesn’t like to sit still. Regina: Well, that appears to have changed.

OR

Regina (to Emma): Well, you covered this room. I suggest you branch out.

And then, the half-conscious woman is completely in love with Regina against her own better judgment because this asshole is not being precious with her like everyone else. And Regina goes from little sarcastic interactions to starting to look at Emma and really seeing her... she's listening to the weird things she says, she's trying to go to where Emma is, understand what she's saying with all her fairytale adventures. She fucking likes her, in spite of being in different realms, and feels like she knows her... profoundly. And that's holy CANON.

Video: YouTube

Like, I love Swan Queen still after all these years, and the fact that analyzing this show with these new glasses still has the potential to give me new SQ squeal moments is just insane. I am now on the HUNT for hidden Swan Queen moments in other storylines.

Like, one thing I've already noticed is that from the beginning, Regina is "cast" as the love interest every time in the first season. I mean the fact that Sydney is "The Mirror"... literally a reflection of Emma, and he goes, "She's an amazing woman." and then Emma "You're in love with her? Ugh." Like, Emma's annoyed with herself for totally being into this woman... and all of this stuff seems fully intentional. Just when you thought this show couldn't get more gay, it really, really does. And that's an example that's not super evident.... because let's remind ourselves that Swan Queen parallels Snow and Charming ALL THE TIME!!! So where are the other hidden ones, you know? 👀

So anyway, all I'm trying to say is that we should hunt all the Swan Queen that's still left to discover.

SQ really, really is the story.

Analyzing Once Upon a Time

This can't be how the story ends

Since this blog is now as old as Henry in the Pilot, we thought this would be a good time to re-introduce this Once Upon a Time theory to the new kids on the block - and to the old kids on the block, because we have learned a thing or two during the decade we've been researching this concept.

The heart of the theory can really be summed up in one sentence:

"Everything that happened on Once Upon a Time also really happened in our world, and it is all a metaphorical retelling of Emma's life experiences in the past and in the present."

That's the part of the theory that we are certain about. Every episode has a deeper meaning, there is no fluff and together they all form one big story.

Does that mean that the story that we watched, didn't really happen? No, it's more like getting two stories for the price of one. The best metaphor we can come up with is that of lenticular cards.

Remember those little cards that you would twist and then the image would change? It doesn't really matter which one of those two images is real, because they both are. Someone had to draw and print both of them and use the right technique so we could see them both. Usually the images tell a bit of a story when you combine them, but they work perfectly fine as two standalone images.

So what we are doing is simply twisting the card, we're revealing our second story. We've really emotionally invested in these characters and now we're entering an Alternate Universe that was written by the same writers. And that's the real appeal of this theory, to get another story after the show's been off the air for so long, with the characters we know and love, because they are both.

Let's say the genre of the story we watched on television for 7 years is fantasy and the genre of our new AU is magical realism. So take a seat, suspend disbelief and enjoy the ride, because we're about to watch the official trailer of this new ABC show called Once Upon a Time.

If you watch the trailer, you see the idea of the two sides of the story being reinforced. You also hear the voice-over tell us that "someone from our world" needs to save the fairy tale characters while showing an unconscious Emma. This is the moment when the story splits in two.

Once Upon a Time takes place in what Jung called "The Collective Unconscious", or in this case The Enchanted Forest - a place where humankind's stories are real, where the fairy tale characters we know and love live - the world of archetypes.

A metaphorical curse is cast when Emma crashes her car. She loses consciousness and travels to her own subconscious mind. The fairy tale world and Emma's personal world collide and she gradually steals the fairy tale characters to work through her own issues and traumas. This is how the fairy tale characters actually get trapped in our world.

This is why this version of the story is "Magical Realism" - In magical realism, the underlying idea is that the world we currently live in actually has an undercurrent of magic, of intelligence, a magic that expresses itself through uncanny coincidences. We see this in the Pilot. Emma makes a heartfelt wish, and a second later, her long lost son rings the door bell. Unlikely, but possible in our world. When she slams her car door in anger, electric sparks fly and when she looks up at the clock, it's stuck on 8:15. August 15th. The date her long lost son was born. Odd coincidences, but entirely possible.

This magical world, however, is also a world of karma, because she violently knocks a man against his steering wheel earlier in the episode. Later that night, she hits her own head. This was the only way for the hidden magic of our world to grant Emma's wish and to restore her karma. The intelligent universe forced her to confront her demons with the help of age-old archetypes, so she could heal from her traumas, learn the life lessons she needs to allow people like Henry and Regina into her life.

Everything we saw on this show was Emma's real experience during the show's timeline, but the undercurrent of the world she experienced was created by her memories and by everything what's going on in the world around her while she is in different states of consciousness. Like Jefferson points out during "Hat Trick", even fictional stories come from a real place. They come from the writer's emotions and experiences, codified into story.

What we didn't know when we first started writing this theory, was how weird our consciousness really is. Real comas are nothing like movie comas where people just sit up one day. Maybe they need a little bit of physical rehab and then off they go. No, in the real world, people spend days, weeks, months or even years living in between their dream world and reality, trying to make sense of it all. Some people report having no memory of the months after they woke up and after they were up and somewhat functional. Many report strange dreams and remembering conversations that happened around them - except they thought they were participating.

Based on this newfound knowledge, we concluded that Emma was only in a deep coma for parts of the show's timeline. We think Emma's state in this theory closely aligns with what medical professionals call a minimally conscious state (MCS). Sleeping curse victims in an MCS are awake but show limited awareness of their surroundings. They may respond to stimuli, have brief moments of purposeful behavior, or even show emotional reactions to familiar voices or events. While their consciousness seems fragmented, they can form connections between external events and their inner experiences. The show uses David's coma story to tell us what's happening with Emma. He is able to grab Mary Margaret's hand, which he couldn't do if he was in a full coma. That means Emma is sometimes saying words and interacting with the people around her. They can connect with her in meaningful ways. And they do.

The show is peppered with hints that point to Emma's state in the land without magic. Jefferson is one of the characters who is used as a part of her subconscious that is trying to make Emma aware of her situation in the reality realm, but during the second episode, Emma herself gives us a description of the curse that she is now trapped in.

Emma: "So, for decades, people have been walking around in a haze, not aging, with screwed up memories, stuck in a cursed town that kept them oblivious."

What's very important about this description, is the "screwed up memories". The flashbacks about Emma's life that we have seen, are just as metaphorical of the other parts. They did happen, but they didn't happen in the way we saw them happen. The best explanation for how these 'new memories' are created is by looking at one clear example.

The "memory" of Emma giving birth to Henry is actually a metaphorical memory of Henry coming back into Emma's life, through parallels and visual clues. In this new memory, she expresses how she really felt in that moment, in so much emotional pain she could scream, and terrified to be asked to be a mother. This is how all the stories are created.

Much of the show works this way, except unlike during this scene, we haven't seen the original experience that the metaphor is based upon. So to decipher the rest of Emma's memories, all we can do is look at the recurring themes and storylines, as they show what Emma is wrestling with. Season 1 is full of car crashes, because crashing her car in the Pilot is a very recent trauma. Parents giving up children is a recurring trauma, because it matches both her story and Henry's story. This is the translation key to figure out Emma's story. Look at the patterns.

If we listen back to the show's trailer one more time, the theme song that was chosen to represent the show couldn't be more of an invitation to see the reality layer of the story.

Rescue me

Show me who I am

'Cause I can't believe

This is how the story ends

Fight for me

If it's not too late

Help me breathe again

No, this can't be how the story ends

This is Emma fighting for her life in reality. Asking Regina and Henry and the people around her to help her come back to life, because this can't be how the story ends. This can't be how she dies.

Ooookay... so where's the fun exactly?

You may be wondering, what is the appeal? Admittedly, this story is somewhat sad and dark at first glance, but remember when you watched the first season and you were trying to guess the characters' fairy tale identities? You get to do that again, except this time you are trying to guess the real world identities. You get to experience the curse from the inside and it really does feel like you can recapture some of the fun from the first time around.

Once you realize that the memories we saw were warped, many questions bubble up to the surface. How did Henry really find Emma? Who gave him the story book and why? How did he come to his conclusions? Is he the author because he is creating the fairy tales he is reading to Emma? Who are Emma's real parents? Why was she given up for adoption? What really happened to her in foster care? Is Neal really Henry's father or is there more to the story? What is wrong with Emma? Was there something fishy about the adoption? Why is she in and out of consciousness? How do Henry and Regina react? Did Regina really try to kill her? If Regina wasn't actually the evil queen, why did Henry think she didn't love him? Why is everyone suddenly related? Who is Emma Swan? Who is Regina Mills? Who is Henry? And Gold? And Hook?

It becomes a gigantic mystery, a fantastical true crime show. And the more people lend their ears and their eyes to it, the better our chances are to actually solve this very, very weird puzzle. Because as we said, the only part of this theory that we are sure of, is that everything we saw, is all a metaphorical retelling of Emma's life in the past and in the present. We report on the connections we find, the possible interpretations. The recurring themes. The meaningful parallels. We don't claim those are the correct interpretations, because they change as we dig deeper.

So consider this an invitation to take a bite out of the forbidden fruit of knowledge, join in and share your observations, because we would like to see the full picture once we tilt our little card to take another look.

[sorrinslays]

About the headcanons--

Do you have any specific ones for like how he may be in a normal au? Like if he was in our world?

If not then please elaborate on any headcanons you want!:>

Okay, so, dealing with a normal AU is. Tricky, for a lack of a better word. It really depends on what's the story is about.

If I were to try a 'realistic' take on Sampo then I would have to reimagine a lot of things. From Masked Fool lore to how Belobog could be isolated and how the fragmentum could exist realistically.

If I were to give a concrete answer, I would probably start by saying that the Aeons exist, but instead of alive concepts, they are either powerful humans, a group of likeminded individuals or crazy single minded people because I don't think we can take the 'oh they are this world's religion' route since in the game they make decision that have consequences.

The Masked Fools, realistically, would be a crazy cult. Unlike a lot of people who headcannon, I don't think the Masked Fools collect orphans. I just don't think they would 'force' elation onto children, they should find it themselves. They don't force it because then it isn't fun, the antithesis of their belief.

I think Sampo in this AU would be an orphan, one that literally has no name. Parents dead since he was an infant, home village burned down, no background, no relatives. He was taken in by some government officials or whatever and lived his whole life in an orphanage (not Natasha's). No childhood memories due to trauma.

He probably found the Masked Fools when he left (ran away from) the orphanage. I can imagine a fifteen-seventeen year old Sampo who just ran away with a fresh new name stumbling across the World's End tavern, looking for shelter from the rain after being borderline homeless for a week or two (he has an apartment, he didn't leave completely unprepared! Okay?! It's just a bit... run down...).

Just imagine, young Sampo with no penny to his name listening to the stories of other Fools, deciding to join and making a lot of stupid decisions. After living life and maturing, he decides to takes some time off. Leave the Masked Fools and truly find himself. Find what the name 'Sampo Koski' means to him.

By chance he learns about Belobog, a city that is supposed to be dead due to heavy snow storms and a lost connection with no way of communicating with the outside world. He also learns that, contrary to popular belief, the city is not dead. There's people living, a whole civilization.

So he goes there, and the rest is history. I think the Belobog storyline can be played out basically the same (without the violence). The Stellaron can be some research gone wrong by lunatics (the antimatter legion or the followers of Destruction) and, out of despair Cocolia convinces herself that this thing will save them.

The Astral Express crew can be a respected 'vigilante' group that travels around and looks out for Stellarons. But I'm just spitballing here.

Like I said, it depends on what the story is about. Sampo is a very versatile character and it's very easy to take advantage of that. If you want to write a cheesy comedy about a boyfailure thief, you can!, if you want to write a complicated noir movie about people in power and hidden motives, you can! you just have to find a way for it to be cohesive and to understand how much lore from the story you want to use.

What I described is what I would do if someone told me to make a 'realistic hsr universe'. If I had to pick a genre, it would probably a comedy with a lot of social commentary, I think the premise fits the genre

[kvroii]

Book Divider (3/3) - Poison World

[amidnightqueery]

I don't hate my job or anything, but man, being a float educator is so fucking thankless

[diezmil10000]

i don't feel like there's much to say about my art improvement this year. however, in 2023, i wrote a long retrospective about my art in which i mentioned my goals for 2024, so let's see if i achieved all of them ^w^

"so for 2024 i want to study some stuff i feel i'm still lacking in. i think i've always had a good eye for composition, but i've never actually pushed it in my finished illustrations - they depend a lot on the poses because i've always been prioritising drawing over everything else. that needs to change this year."

this was actually one of the first things i did in 2024. just around this time of last year, i was in the process of making 7 fullbody illustrations for class, depicting my ocs from a visual novel i still haven't finished. i never shared them outside of artfight (😂) because i get shy talking about my ocs in public, but they are still fire and almost no one reads these posts anyway so...

i had to use so many references for these pictures, from magazine covers to fashion to layout design. i think this was the first time i was actually putting into practise all the knowledge i had learned in my degree, as up to that point i was getting through it kinda passively.

overall, my 2024 was filled with great compositions. who could have known that paying attention to it would lead to better illustrations, right? here are some other highlights i'm still very proud of:

that leblise piece is probably my favorite piece of art i ever did period. so simple yet so delicious and full of symbolism. the aqours fanart is based on an S shape, from "sunshine", and i felt so smart for coming up with it even though it's really simple. and then there's kanadiamari as always - what i really like about that fanart is that i was able to put my design knowledge into good use again.

"i also want to get better at drawing characters from extreme angles. i've always felt like my poses are a bit flat and i think i can study photos taken with wide angle lenses to improve at that."

before we get into this let me remind everyone that i trace all the time. sometimes i wake up and forget how to draw, so i open an app called Magic Poser and play with the 3D dolls until i have a decent base for what i'm picturing in my mind. but it wasn't until last year that i started pushing the angles of those scenes so that i could get the best of them.

of course, you need to have good skills in order for your traced pieces not to look like shit. i can work with anime models with innacurate anatomy precisely because i already know where the muscles sit on the body. the suselle artwork is more referenced than traced, in the sense that i first sketched the pose, then re-created it in 3D, then traced it and then re-sketched it. the things i do for yuri orz.

"and of course i still want to draw faster, which is something i've always struggled with. […] i'm still too slow for the kind of artstyle i want to achieve, which includes having a looser lineart and less details in irrelevant areas of the drawings. i think that overdoing the lineart actually hurts my illustrations, because everything ends up pulling the viewer's attention with the same energy. i also think messy artstyles are neat."

this is a tricky subject. in my 2023 post i showed some examples of what i wanted to keep doing in terms of lineart, and while i certainly got better at not overdoing it, i'm still far from that goal. definitely something i need to keep an eye out for, as i really like it when i manage to get loose with my art.

not much to say here except that i'm sorry i never posted these farcille sketches. they are 12 in total and the rest of them are porn and i'm too shy to share them with the world. also those furry guys i draw a lot (twice) are me and my and my best friend's fursonas, in case anyone is curious.

"as for the stuff i like about my current artstyle, i definitely want to keep the way i color!! and by that i mean the method i have for applying filters that make my colors pop. i could maybe play more with textures too."

i actually think i went backwards here. what i do now is more visually coherent, but my 2024 doesn't shine for the way i use colors in comparison to the previous year. it probably happened because i got too comfortable with the way i post-process my illustrations nowadays, in contrast with how experimental i was when i started playing with filters. a shame, truly, but not a huge downgrade.

"i also like the way i depict intimacy, and people have praised it too. i don't think i'll ever change the content of my art, i eat breathe and speak in yuri. if anything, there are still some ways of conveying feelings that i haven't been able to draw because i lack the skill to do so, but i'll keep trying ;)"

not sure about this one either, but i know it's because i just didn't draw a lot in 2024. among finishing my degree and final thesis, organizing stuff for aqours when they came to spain and preparing for my current job, i didn't have much time for yuri brainrot. my best drawings were dunmeshi and lgts fanarts, and i'm glad i got into both of these pieces of media because they still warm my heart today :)

i'm very proud of all 3 of these artworks, especially the frebkuchen one, i cooked so much there. maybe this skill of mine (the ability to depict intimacy) is the one that's closest to mastery among the ones i have, and that's why i don't see much improvement.

overall, 2024 was a good year, but not my peak. i can't rate it just in terms of improvement, but i can't deny that i like my 2023 artworks more than my current ones either. i think i'm on the right path, and while i don't have any art resolutions for 2025 i hope i can bring better art to the world from now on.

thank you for reading until the end if you did, and i hope you have a nice year!! <3

2024 art summary!! lots of oc art this year :) i also started painting digitally and it's sooooo fun~~~

(template by PEPPERTODE on deviantart)

[sysig]

Gotta sweep up all this Dust (Patreon)

[ghostlynimbus]

I'm still grumpy about a comment I got on an old fic the other day

[tamaharu]

okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds