#this is messy I need to make a better version of this post

[julietsf1]

Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3

warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?

AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies

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The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.

When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.

“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”

He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”

I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.

With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.

“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.

He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.

I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”

A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.

Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.

“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.

Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.

“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.

My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.

I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.

His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.

I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.

[through-rosey-glasses]

PWHL Teams and Which Taylor Swift Era They are in

My sister and I were talking about how Minnesota Frost is clearly in their Tortured Poets Department Era, and that inspired the rest of this post. This is just a fun little thing I did, please don't take it too seriously or personally.

(Also for swifties, I used the old versions of album covers as it refers to that era. Red TV is totally different than Red ya know.)

Minnesota Frost:

Currently in their The Tortured Poets Department Era. Basically messy despite being on top of the world. The album came out after the raging success of Taylor Swift in her Era's tour and winning her fourth album of the year at the grammy's. This new album brings out snappy lines targeted at fans and revelations at how Taylor Swift didn't live up to the ideal many fans had of her. In Minnesota we had the recent firing of the favored general manager and drafting of a controversial player. You can't convince me that Ken Klee wasn't blasting But Daddy I Love Him, as he made all his messy decisions.

Boston Fleet:

Speak Now was a Taylor Swift era filled with spite and determination. The whole album was written by Taylor Swift alone, partially because her ex and some critics accusing her of not being a proficient writer on her own. After losing the Walter Cup, the Boston Fleet have the confidence that they can make it far and the determination to be better. (I also think spite comes naturally to Boston, not like they need a motivation or something.) This era is very youthful but honest, and I think that energy would be great to see in Boston next season. Someone blast better than revenge.

Montreal Victoire:

A personal favorite of mine, the Red Era of Taylor Swift had it all. Heartbreak, style, chaos, parties, love. This era was also risky and complex, Taylor Swift blended country and pop, bringing critical acclaim and a wider fanbase. Montreal has had a fun, but chaotic summer. Their draft picks are a fair mix of old and new. (With that wild Kessel pick) Their name and logo got rave reviews. People see the the good foundation the team has and are waiting in anticipation for what's to come.

Toronto Sceptres:

Reputation is a come back era, and Toronto has something to prove. Following a devastating injury to a star player, the team wasn't the same during the playoffs. This season they are going to have to show that they are still that team. Reputation is a fan favorite album and I have found Toronto to have the strongest fanbase. (They sell out most often and have the largest social media presence.) The team knows they are good and they have the support, they just need to rebuild.

Ottawa Charge:

Folklore is an era of surprising change. During Covid and following the cut short run of Lover, Folklore was an unannounced reinvention of Taylor Swift. It wasn't an intentional change, but one forced by the way of the world. Ottawa needs to find its grove and step into its own again. I haven't heard much from Ottawa on anything really, and I hope its because they got some cool alt indie surprise on its way.

New York Sirens:

Listen I am not only picking 1989 because it has a cool New York aesthetic. This is the era of leaning in and giving it your all. When Red didn't win album of the year, Taylor Swift decided to move to New York and reinvent herself. New York was last in ranking last season, but got first in draft. They have been working off season with insane draft picks and that somehow it worked out trade with Boston. New York has the star power, the New York city life, and the rebranding to help turn them into something new.

[castielcommunism]

one thing that 9x06 crystallises is spn’s weird economic politics, summarised by dean’s line that cas is “above all this” when he finds out cas is working at a gas station. which is that A) real men know how to avoid poverty and B) wage labour is for cucks unless it is done voluntarily. like the logic here is that the crushing weight of the private market is good because it provides men an opportunity to rise above it, thus ensuring their masculinity, and failure to do so means you are a failure of a man. cas is a failure because he’s working for his basic necessities. which appears to be at odds with the historical tradition of white american working class masculinity (a tradition that owes a large debt to blue collar union work), to which spn’s response is that no those hard working men are all still real men because they’re choosing to individually engage with the market on their own terms and work manly jobs. see how dean becomes a construction worker in s6 because he decides to retire from hunting, or when sam becomes a bartender/handyman at a motel to take a break from hunting. jobs are easy to secure and provides distraction from hunting, because men always need to be productive (being unemployed is also a cuck move unless you’re hunting).

but that seems to ALSO be at odds with the conservative line that nobody would be productive without the constant economic pressure to do so. to which spn says yes! but also real men are above all forms of domination. and also the purest expression of masculinity is domination, which is what hunting is. hunting is where labour (and therefore economic domination) is entirely absent and people who hunt become the dominators. like technically in supernatural hunting isn’t labour - or at the very least, it does not resemble any modern form of wage labour that exists in society. anyway this show is insane

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[dunmeshistash]

What chapter/ chapters tell Mithrun’s backstory? or if it’s not too many could you post those pages? I read the whole manga but for some reason I have no memory of reading about Mithrun’s backstory and I’ve been confused about how he got to be the way he is. I read the wiki but I want to go back and read the actual part of the manga that will explain this to me. Thank you!

The version Kabru tells is from chapter 62, might be a little confusing cause it's told between other things happening as they await for the canaries to save them. Its not really short enough for me to post the whole thing here plus its a great chapter I recommend rereading. (It's also the kabumisu canon foot fetish chapter)

As the chapter cover implies this chapter is a VERY condensed and cleaned up version Kabru made for us (for Laios actually)

So it's a "unreliable narrator" version of his backstory and things like the woman he wanted might have been overstated in Kabrus version cause as he says her

It's just a good point to make people invested.

That being said we also get some more things about his backstory from extras! (I recommend reading chapter 62 before the extras tho)

First there's Mithrun's own adventurer's bible extra

With this right away we see the story Kabru was telling left out several things that were important, like how Mithrun WASN'T the perfect youth. And how his jealousy for his brother was greater than just wanting to have his girl.

Another one is Milsiril's Extra

Here we have a better perspective of how he was perceived. And how she helped him get back on his feet and join the canaries again after utaya, Kabru's version skips completely over the fact he needed 20 years of rehab to be able to come back lmao. Now for daydream hour extras we have this one that shows just HOW MESSY his recovery actually was.

And that the brother he dismissed was the one to help him. And Milsiril helping with his rehabilitation once she had retired from the canaries.

Here's Mithruns timeline if you want to check when and how far apart things happened!

I don't think I missed anything.. hope this helps!

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

[jinkicake]

Needy Touches

You get affected by the gold hellfire newt syrup ((or,,, you get affected by an aphrodisiac kekeke)). 

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon x Reader

A/N: this came from a long line of word vomit -hence the double luci mention bc i could not figure out how i wanted to write this-.... i also tried writing a version where the reader eats enchanted pudding but i didnt finish it soooo perhaps ill post that later.... i just desperately needed barbatos smut

WC - 2.2kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy lol))

~~~

Barbatos

“Barbatos,” 

The loyal servant smells you before he sees you. His eyes widen as his entire body flushes with an untamable heat. Why do you smell so sweet? Within his chest, his heart thrashes against the confines of his ribs. The air becomes thick with flavor and Barbatos can barely think under these tense circumstances. 

“Please, I need you,” From where you call just outside his door, Barbatos is quick to invite you inside his room. He slams the wooden door closed before pushing you up against it. His forked tail instantly wraps around both of your ankles and pins you firmly in place. The demon isn’t sure what has affected you like this but he can tell that your hormones must be getting the better of you. 

You’re nearly panting under his touch and he hasn’t even done anything drastic to you yet. 

“It hurts, help me please,” Your begs start to become incoherent as you focus on undressing your lover, you find your way underneath his dress shirt and nearly moan at the feeling of his abdomen under the pads of your fingers. “fuck me-”

Barbatos is a level-headed demon, not much can throw him off track. There is supposedly nothing that can throw him off track. Well, nothing except for you. This shouldn’t, and doesn’t, come as a surprise to him. Of course, a human is the thing to push the obedient demon over the edge. 

He drags you across his room, pushing you until you reach his bed. Barbatos is the first to fall back against the mattress but he quickly pulls you on top of him and into his lap. His sturdy hands rip down your pajama shorts and his finger comes into contact with the thin essence covering your thighs. 

“Use me,” Barbatos orders, he reacts all too quickly as the only thing keeping him from mounting you like an animal is the promise of your cunt on his face. “beloved, please.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice as you move up his body within seconds and don’t hesitate to sit on his face. You don’t have the time to feel embarrassed when your body is burning up inside. 

“Oh!” You squeak as his tongue quickly runs up and down your slit before wiggling into your entrance. Barbatos has a monster of a tongue and he makes use of it to fuck you. He’s trying with his entire being to get as much of your taste on his tongue as he possibly can. His mind is torn between giving you your pleasure and hogging it all for himself. 

Your cunt tightly squeezes around his muscle while your hips rut against his face, perfectly aligning your clit with his nose to get just the right friction. It’s all so messy and sloppy, nothing like what you’re usually used to with Barbatos. But, you can’t get enough of it. His fingers dig into your thighs to help you move against his face, back and forth until you’re squirming and aching all over him. 

He’s determined to see you spent tonight, utterly used with nothing left to give. Barbatos is a greedy demon and he burns with intense pleasure to see you satisfied. 

Lucifer

“You drank the hellfire wine, didn’t you?” Lucifer glares down at your trembling form and his intimidating stance almost makes you start to drool. There is nothing more attractive right now than Lucifer with his large arms crossed over his thick chest. Your thighs press together painfully at the sight. 

The older demon sighs, he can smell your arousal leaking out of you in buckets. It’s affecting him terribly but by some miracle, he has been able to hold it together. 

“I informed you beforehand what that syrup does to humans, must you ignore every warning I provide you?” Lucifer grunts at the headache taking the forefront of his brain, he can’t focus with your scent hanging heavily in the air. All too quickly he comes aware of just how sweet you smell. Despite the lecture on his lips, he gets distracted by the thick tears pooling in your eyes.

The sight nearly causes the old man to coo. 

“My dearest love, you just want to be fucked, don’t you?” He murmurs as he takes you in his arms, his hands grab ahold of your biceps and pull you into his chest. “How badly do you need me?” In this moment of desire, Lucifer needs to hear how you ache for him. His poor, sweet human. 

“So badly, Luci,” You moan the nickname and claw at his abdomen, desperately trying to get rid of the clothes still adorning his body. “fuck me, please.” Begging becomes second nature as you plead and plea with all your might. You might end up succumbing to your knees as you focus all your energy on praying for this one thing. 

Lucifer’s pretty patience snaps at your devotion. 

He can’t decide between fucking you exactly how you need or letting you take what you need.

“Will you ride me until you’re satisfied or do you wish for me to fuck you until you can no longer speak?” His fingers squeeze your hips almost painfully, forcing your hips to grind against his own. Your head falls back with a moan and Lucifer wets his lips at the sight of your bare neck on display. 

“I need you to fuck me, Lucifer.” You plead and before you know it, he has you bent over his table. 

Lucifer makes quick work of finding a pace that satisfies your desires. He thrusts in and out of your tight cunt quickly, but it only makes the burning fire inside of you even hotter. His grunts and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other have you gasping out for air. You pathetically try to meet his thrusts but are unable to keep up with his fierce pace. 

Within the handful of minutes Lucifer has been fucking you, you’ve already convulsed around his cock twice. Your body keeps making work of searching for pleasure, and it seems that with each orgasm your desire for Lucifer only becomes stronger. In the back of your mind, you can hear exactly what you need, you yearn for Lucifer to find his release. You cum again to the mouthwatering idea of the demon finishing inside of you and then licking it out. You need it and you’re determined to get it. 

“Lucifer, cum in me,”

Mammon

Mammon isn’t really sure how his night got like this, you in his lap mewling and begging for his attention. But, he isn’t necessarily complaining about the situation either.

“Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” He squeaks as your wandering hands travel lower and lower across his abdomen, no doubt in search of his belt. “What is up with you today?” Mammon swallows deeply as he takes a closer look at you, there is an intense heat radiating off your body as you practically shake in his lap. The demon would be a fool not to see the flush dusting across your face that spreads to the tips of your ears. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

Concern takes over him as he tightly grabs your shoulders and forces you to face him. He’s your first after all, your wellbeing means more to him than any other demon in Devildom. Mammon nearly kicks himself for not taking note of your current state earlier. In the midst of his mental scolding, you moan at his strong touch. It’s quiet and barely slips past your lips but’s more than enough to catch on Mammon’s ears. 

His entire body twitches with need at the sound. A primal need to take care of his human, to satisfy his human, to please his human. 

Mammon’s mouth runs dry as he looks you over again. This time he notices how you’re subtly grinding on his thigh, he feels the damp patch growing against his thick pants. He’s hard in an instant. 

“You’re-” He pauses, swallowing shortly to rethink his words. “you’re leaking?” You momentarily freeze at this and the demon cringes at himself so hard that his entire body falls back against his sofa. 

Thank god, you’re too far gone in your own pleasure to care.

“Mammon, help me, it burns-” Your cries fill his concerns up sky high and the demon has half a mind to go and grab his older brother because Mammon knows nothing about the human body. The second born hates to see you in pain and harming you even more is the last thing he would ever want. “stop thinking and fuck me!”

“Huh?” Mammon stops in his panic and freezes all over, he doesn’t move an inch as you throw his belt across the room and yank his pants down his muscular thighs. He lets you take what you need, watches with an intense desire as you flip your skirt up and grab ahold of his excited cock. 

The demon ends up moaning louder than you once you start to fuck him, bouncing in his lap to satisfy your own needs. Nothing about this is for Mammon and the demon loves it. 

“More, yeah like that,” His hips squirm under your touch, bucking up to meet your own pace while you dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“This is about me, Mammon,” You breathe into his ear, whimpering at the feeling of his hands migrating down to your ass. The demon finally gets an ounce of control as he helps you bounce in his lap, angling his cock inside of your tight cunt to make you see stars. “you’re here to help me.”

The secondborn wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lucifer (the original thing i wrote for him hehehe,, i didnt think it was smutty enough so i rewrote it -and honestly, i just might write an entire thing for this because lucifer is so hot-)

“What is wrong with you?” Lucifer bites as he glares down at your trembling form. Had this been any other occasion Lucifer would have taken you to the closest private space available to fuck your brains out but, he isn’t blessed with that luck today. The demon castle is currently filled with far too many people and it would be near impossible to sneak away. He can’t understand why you’re acting this way. You’re practically trying to jump him amongst all these demons. 

Lucifer narrows his eyes at you before taking a subtle whiff of your scent and just the slight inhale causes his entire body to stiffen as he instantly feels all the blood in his body rush into his boxers. How on earth did he not notice it before?

“You need to be fucked, don’t you?” He coos into your ear as he tightly wraps his large hand around your wrist. Lucifer drags you out of the ballroom, ignoring every person who tries to stop him. He brings you to an empty hallway before ushering you roughly into an old abandoned room filled with trinkets that haven’t been touched in centuries. You’re not too focused on anything other than the demon in front of you. “Let me guess, you drank the hellfire wine, didn’t you?”

You nod eagerly and try to ignore your guilty conscious, ignore how you messed up the evening. 

“Dearest, you know what that does to humans. I warned you beforehand.” He starts a lecture, one that you know could go on for hours but you don’t have the hours to wait, not when you’re working up a sweat and your thighs have begun to tremble. There’s a wet heat aching between your thighs and you only become more and more uncomfortable as time goes on. 

“I didn’t know what it looked like!” Your eyes pathetically fill up with thick tears and Lucifer nearly awes at the sight. It seems he’s being too hard on you. 

“Calm down, my pet.” He quietly murmurs against your forehead as he steps closer to you, placing either of his hands on your biceps. “You just want to cum, don’t you? You need release so badly, poor thing,” From his words alone, you swear you could cum. All over again your body starts to tremble. “I’ve got you, human, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” 

When Lucifer promises something, he always delivers. 

His clothes are discarded in seconds and you’re sure you zoned out all the way until he pulled you into his lap and lined his cock up with your entrance. You don’t remember your own clothes coming off or how he got to sucking on your breasts so earnestly. All you can focus on is his hard cock now fully inside of you. Your movements are messy and rushed, you take full control as Lucifer leans back in the leather chair. 

You’re bouncing thoughtfully in his lap, loudly mewling and moaning at how full you feel. The entire time since you got your hands on that wine, you’ve been on edge. Lucifer can bring you bliss within seconds but you know that tonight, it won’t be enough. You’ll have to use him the whole night until you’re both utterly spent, until you’re forced to be peeled off of his cock.

Anticipation grows in Lucifer’s stomach with a smile on his lips to match, oh he’s looking forward to this. 

[fleurrreads]

the love you give . rhysand x reader

an: i absolutely love rhys and would absolutely burn down the world for him. god knows he deserves someone who would do for him what he’s done for others.

based on this request

your relationship with rhys is complicated. you’ve been having this friends-who-coincidentally-make-love type of thing going on and you really don’t know how to talk to him about it. yes, he’s told you multiple times during sex how he loves you. but that can all just be the heat of the moment, right? surely the flutter in your heart didn’t mean anything?

just like today is no different. you watch rhys sit up from the bed, grabbing his pants and walking over to your dresser to get one of his shirts that he has recently started leaving in your room. ‘i’m here so much i might just as well start leaving my clothes in here’ he said one afternoon after your activities. it made your heart race, those silly little words.

“what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours, angel?” rhys moves to sit down on the bed, caressing your hair. you’ve been debating telling him. telling him that he makes your world spin. that he basically *is* your world. the suppressed feelings bubbling over in your heart wasn’t going to be kept dormant for long. you know you have to let it out eventually. what better time than now?

“i’m just thinking about something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about. something i’m not sure i know how to say.” you’re fidgeting with your hands, a nervous tick you’ve acquired through the years. “i don’t know how to phrase this other than saying it flat out, rhys. i like you, a lot. we’ve been friends for so long and i’ve felt that you’re more than just my friend. i love you, rhys.” you don’t dare look at him, too scared of the reaction he might have on his face. you feel the tension before you can look at him, and then he does the unimaginable.

he laughs.

a loud, cackling laugh. you feel your whole body go cold. rhys stands up, nearly doubling over as he tries to gather himself. “post-sex emotions really got you bad today, huh? you’re even confessing your love to me now. that one is new right? we should add that to the list.” he smiles and you feel your whole world spin, not in a good way anymore. you feel like the air has been stolen from your lungs and tears prickle at your lash line. is this what he thought this was? your post-sex hormones being heightened and you confessing out of lust?

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, standing up from the bed and grabbing the nearest piece of clothing to make yourself decent. you need to get out. right now. “you’re right, this was a stupid idea to say this to you and think you’d care. hormones right?” a pathetic excuse for a laugh leaves your lips as you move to the door. you don’t see the smile drop from rhys’ face as you shut the door, making your way to your apartment, away from the townhouse, away from him.

it’s been twelve days. twelve days since you’ve been near the house of wind, the townhouse, and anywhere near him. you couldn’t stand to see his face after he basically insinuated that your confession was that of lust and that you weren’t thinking straight. when in fact you were probably never thinking more clear than that moment. you love him. with your entire heart. it never occurred to you that your heart would be crushed by him too.

a hard collection of knocks rip you from your thoughts as you make your way to the door. amren always had a way of knocking like hell was at her tail, which it probably was now that you think about it… “yes, dear mother, amren you don’t need to knock the door down i’m-“ your voice is cut off as you’re face to face with rhys, a disheveled messy version of him at least. “what do you want, rhys?” your tone is cold, causing him to wince. he nods towards your living room, “can i come in, please? i need to talk to you.”

you nearly give him the loud and obnoxious laugh he gave you twelve days ago when he dismissed your feelings like that so easily. but you push the anger and hurt down, nodding. “make it quick.”

a homemade cup of coffee in hand, rhys sits down on your couch with you on the opposite side. you don’t dare get too close. rhys meets your eyes, trying to decipher what might be going on in your head right now, what you must think of him. he’s had the roughest twelve days. he went over the conversation you had with him at least a hundred times, and each time he relived that look on your face he nearly cried. “i’m sorry for how i reacted that night. i should’ve never let you leave like that. i just didn’t want to believe it.” he says softly, softer than you’ve ever heard him speak. “believe what, rhys?” you tilt your head. “believe that you’d actually love me. this version of me. the one you get to see and others don’t. the side of me that makes me scared, and the one that i can’t show anyone without showing them i’m vulnerable. i couldn’t believe that you’d love that… that ugly part of me. i shouldn’t have said it was just lust clouding your mind. you and i both know you’re much smarter and more thoughtful than that. you wouldn’t just say things like that without meaning it and i should’ve told you this a few days ago already but i was afraid. afraid i messed it up before it could happen. before i could love you and declare it from the top of the snowy mountains.”

your tears are flowing as you look at rhys, really looking at him. he’s shaking, that nervous tick of yours now prominent on him as he’s picking his nails. your heart and mind is running at a million miles a minute and you take a deep breath to ground yourself before you take his hands in yours.

“rhys, i know this took a lot for you to say, and i know that you’re scared. i’m scared too. i’ve never felt like this with anyone before. i love every part of you, especially the parts you don’t show anyone else. it’s like i get a piece of you all to myself. that part of your soul. it’s more intimate than sex, it’s so raw and pure and natural that it feels like someone completely different. not the high lord of the night court, not the rhysand your family sees, just rhys. my rhys. those things don’t make you ugly, rhys. they make you strong, and powerful and amazing. that’s why i wanted you to know that someone can love those parts of you too. not just the charismatic, sarcastic persona you put on for your friends and loved ones. and not the cold, ruthless leader that the court of nightmares believes you to be. but just you. the true you. i love everything about you, all of it.”

rhys kisses you, passionately. you’ve never had a kiss like this with him. never one with such meaning as this. this one was different. as to say ‘thank you for loving me even when it’s hard to see why’ and you realise that you’d burn the world down for him if he asked. he deserves the world, and so much more. everything he has sacrificed for his people and his family, he deserves that same sacrifices made for him tenfold.

he cups your cheek, whispering so softly you nearly don’t catch it but it makes all the heartbreak and doing it all again worth it, “i love you. until my last dying breath.”

i do not allow my works to be copied, put into any ai website etc.

shares and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡

[satorustyles]

you can't fall asleep (a kento nanami one shot)

a/n: a nanami version of this one shot! thank you to everyone who liked my first post, there's more to come! <3 -bear

pairing: nanami x fem!reader

warnings: implied smut at the end, but mostly just pure fluff

word count: 1,750

gojo version here!

sukuna version here!

Despite Kento’s busy schedule, he was always the last to fall asleep. He would stay up longer finishing paperwork or answering emails, and there would always be a bottle of beer next to him to help him ease his stress. Not only was he a full-time worker, but he was just recently promoted to a higher position. Which meant higher pay. Longer nights.

Ever since he got the promotion he’s been staying up longer than his usual bedtime, signing papers all while checking his laptop for emails. After dinner, you were almost invisible to him, with his attention solely on his remaining work and you had to wait for your time until he was finished–which was around eleven late in the evening.

“You should go ahead, baby.” He had told you, giving you an apologetic kiss on the lips. He still wore the same suit that he had on, minus the coat and the tie. He couldn’t fall asleep knowing he had unread emails and unchecked paperwork.

And you tried to sleep without him, you really did. But the bed was colder and quieter without him, without his strong arms wrapped around your smaller body and having his warm breath tickling your neck, plus the occasional, sleepy kisses you would get when you were close to falling asleep.

You missed cuddling with Kento before bedtime. You missed waking up to his kisses and groggily telling you how much he loves you and would promise to spend the rest of the evening with you, however you wanted.

But the promotion took him away from you.

You sighed frustratedly as you left your bed, padding towards the kitchen where he was still situated on the island counter, faced with piles of paperwork and a bottle of beer. The light from his laptop screen illuminated his tired features, dark circles underneath his eyes, and his blonde hair in a messy state.

“Nami,” You whined, calling him by the nickname you gave him that he immediately loved to hear. His head was quick to snap in your direction. “S’too much work. Come to bed with me.”

He smiled tiredly at you, and your heart ached at the sight of him. You hated how hard he worked every day, barely getting enough rest that he deserved. Whenever you asked him to take a break, he would shake his head and tell you that he was doing this for the both of you. So he could provide for your own needs as well.

And you hated that you couldn’t help him yet. You were still in school, and the least you could do was wake up before him and prepare his breakfast and make him dinner when the evening comes. But you knew that wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He apologized as he stretched his arm out for you, asking you to come to him. “I just have to finish this, okay? I’m almost done.”

You walked towards him and he looked up at your sleepy face, smiling at how adorable you looked. “Gimme a kiss,” He whispered.

You shook your head. “Not until you get in bed with me, Nami. You can just finish that tomorrow.”

He sighed as he stared back at the papers in front of him, the light coming from his laptop screen already straining his eyes. You were right. This was already too much.

“C’mere.” He told you as he pulled you towards his lap and you obliged. You straddled his legs, facing him, while he did his best to clean up his mess and shut off his pc while ensuring you didn’t fall from his lap. “Thank you for reminding me, angel. If you didn’t come out for me I would have stayed for another hour.”

“You’re overworking yourself. This is too much work, even for someone who was just given a promotion. You’re like a working intern who was given all the heavy load.” You were angry. Not at your boyfriend, but at the fact that his company promoted him to a better position but the work given was somehow a downgrade. It was paperwork and meetings all over again. “I mean, I’m not one to judge, and I certainly have no clue what your responsibilities are, but I know better that you shouldn’t be working way past your eight-hour shift. That’s so unfair.”

Kento sighed and you looked up, worried that your words had upset him. But, you were surprised to see him smiling fondly at you.

“I agree. I really was planning on talking to the supervisors about this. Maybe ask if I could get an assistant so that I could have someone divide the workload.” He replied just as his hands held your waist and pulled you closer to him, keeping you from slipping down his khaki pants.

“I miss falling asleep next to you.” You sighed as you stared up at his tired eyes.

“I know, baby.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I know you couldn’t fall asleep without someone next to you. I’m sorry. But you’re right, this is unfair.”

His hand rested against your back and pushed you down to his chest, keeping you there as his other hand grabbed his phone from the counter and began dialing someone.

“Who are you calling?” You questioned, struggling to move your head so you could look up at him since his hand was still on your back, his grip strong as he kept you from moving so much.

“Shh, this will be quick love.” He muttered before kissing your forehead quickly. And so you remained silent. You loved how small you felt in Kento’s hold, his strong arms wrapped around you, feeling the way his chest would rise and fall with every breath he took, inhaling the faint smell of perfume, sweat, and alcohol, and how his hand would slowly start rubbing circles behind your back…

You were slowly dozing off.

“Mr. Yamato, good evening,” Kento spoke, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and you could feel the way it vibrated against your head. “Yes, I am aware of the time. I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ll be taking the day off tomorrow.”

Your ears perked up. He’s asking for a day-off? So unlike him.

“With that, I would also like to discuss further a possible assistant you could give me. I know you trust me enough with the position you have bestowed upon me, but it has been taking too much of my free time and my wife doesn’t like how I still work even when I’m at home.”

Your heart jumped. My wife?? His wife? He called you his wife??

You squirmed underneath his hold but his grip was tighter around you, as if silently asking you to stay put.

“Ah yes, of course. We’ll discuss this further the day after tomorrow. Thank you so much, Mr. Yamato. Have a good night.” He then hung up and threw his phone on the counter.

“Now, where were we?” He sighed in relief, his eyes down at you with a cheeky smile and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“You asked for a day off?”

“Why, yes of course.” He replied nonchalantly, his hands on your sides keeping you steady as you moved to sit up and face him properly. “I told you, you were right. My work was getting too much. And the day off would be a quick recovery for me to get more sleep and spend the rest of the day with you.”

You couldn’t even bother to hide the smile on your face as you excitedly leaned in to kiss your boyfriend square on the lips, catching him off-guard but eventually relaxing with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah? Sounds good, right? A day off with my baby girl.” Kento mumbled against your lips, sighing contentedly. “We’ll sleep in, just order takeout for lunch, and you’ll give me cuddles in the afternoon, and maybe have some more fun…”

His kisses began going downwards as his words trailed off, peppering your throat and collarbone with wet kisses and you sighed at the feel of his tongue tickling your skin. Beneath you, you could feel something hard subtly poking your core. 

You knew Kento was getting needy. It’s been a week since you had sex, and there was his promotion to thank for it. You tried your best to avert his attention, even just for an hour, because you knew you could at least help him with his stress just a little. But he was always adamant about finishing his work.

“I’m so sorry I never got to spend more time with you, y/n.” He sighed, letting his forehead rest against your shoulder. “I let this promotion get the best of me. I never even bothered considering that you would need me, too.”

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and rubbed his back soothingly. “Nothing to be sorry for, Nami. You were just doing your best. I’m just glad you could at least have a day off to yourself and finally talk with your boss about getting an assistant. I’ve been telling you that since Monday,” You told him and he sighed on your shoulder once again, his arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you closer to him, as if you would suddenly disappear from him if he loosened his grip.

He suddenly lifted his head, looking you straight in the eyes. Your heart hammered against his chest at the sudden action and the way his brown eyes stared back at you intensely.

“This time, I’ll be making it up to you.” He growled and you gasped at the sudden change of his demeanor. Before you could reply, his lips were on yours once again, his kisses suddenly becoming needier and hungrier as he gripped your thighs and pulled you up with him, taking you to your shared bedroom.

“Kento…” You sighed against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep yourself from falling from his hold.

“Shhh, let me take care of you this time, angel.” He muttered when you both finally reached your bedroom. He dropped you on the bed with a soft thud and he was immediately on top of you, capturing your wrists and trapping them above your head. 

“Let Nami make it up to you for those days when he's been busy.” He then gripped your lounge shorts and pulled them downwards, and you knew that you weren’t getting any sleep tonight at all.

[payphoneangel]

Supernatural: The Showrunner's Challenge

A writing challenge/exercise

I saw this post and thought it would be really fun to make a SPN specific version. Some of these I tweaked from the OG post, some are the exact same, and others are brand new. If you like this, please give the OG post some love for the creators great idea!!

Think you can write better than the showrunners of Supernatural? Let’s find out! This prompt is a writing exercise/challenge to create a ‘season’ of Supernatural via fanfic. Each chapter functions as an episode.

Prompt:

To start, think of what you would change about SPN if you were its showrunner. Would you scrap everything and start from new? Keep the series going with a new season? Pick a spot in the show and diverge from there? Ignore all the plot and play dolls with your favorite characters? 

Write a chapter that works as the Pilot of the show you want to see. At the end of each episode, roll a d12 to see what you must include in the following episode:

Roll a d12:

1. Everything at once: Roll twice, use both. If you get 1 again, keep rolling. Your only way out is to stop getting 1s. 

2. TMWWBK: Give every character in the previous chapter a number. Using a dice roll/random number generator, the character whose number is selected is now the main subject and POV of the next episode. 

For a greater challenge: include any character mentioned by name and any character with dialogue. (i.e. If Sam mentions Bobby, give him a number. If the waitress at a diner talks to Dean, give her a number)

3. Fan favorite: Your most recently mentioned character (or named object) is now beloved by the audience. You must give them a bigger part in the story, a special destiny, or an important new romance or friendship. 

If you roll 3 again; the character must get killed off to motivate their friends/allies/love interest or to serve the plot.

If you roll 3 a third time; either start over OR they come back from the dead.

4. High Concept Episode: Due to plot/MOTW/meddling gods/whatever, the characters are trapped in a different genre than usual. Roll a d6. 

High Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Apocalypse/Alternate Reality 

Time Travel/Time loop

Sit-com/Meta

Crossover/Stuck in a video Game

Slasher/Death Game

5. Filler episode: The next chapter must be completely low stakes and set you at ease. 

For a greater challenge: Flip a coin for each main character. 

Heads: Their filler is full of thoughtful inner world building and characterization

Tails: They are interrogating the milves (i.e. doing something silly and stupid)

6. Mothership: The next chapter must include the characters making references to/listening to/arguing about/having a feelings jam accompanied by... Classic Rock. 

Bonus: If you roll three 6’s in a row, introduce a Lucifer plotline (If you were ALREADY writing about Lucifer.... kill him).

7. Fallen Angels and Special Children: If the last character mentioned in the previous episode has special abilities, they lose them. If that character does not have special abilities, they gain them.

8. The Focus Group: The execs created a focus group to see if audiences would like more romance in the show. Flip a coin to determine the outcome:

Heads: The audience is into it and so are the execs! The next episode needs to involve a deep, sappy confession of either love or admiration between two characters that have not previously been romantically involved. 

Tails: The audience is into it but the execs aren't so sure... The next episode needs to introduce a budding romance between two characters that is only ever alluded to, but never stated outright.

If you roll 8 again:

If you got Heads on the previous flip: The characters have a messy breakup/divorce.

If you got Tails on the previous flip: One character dies right after outright stating their romantic feelings for the other.

9. Familiar Faces: A character from a different season is (re)introduced and becomes plot relevant. (ex: if you’re writing early seasons, include Kevin, Rowena, Ketch, Dagon, ect. If you’re writing late seasons, include Rufus, Cassie, Ava, Bela, ect.)

For greater challenge, assign characters a number and select via dice roll OR

Use a tumblr poll to have followers select

10. J2 Fallout: The two most recently mentioned characters' actors have, IRL, gone through a VERY messy divorce or friend breakup. You cannot put them in the same scene, but they must both remain relevant to the show. 

If you roll 10 again, they reconcile. 

11. Deep Analysis: Roll a d6. The next episode must include the theme of:

Grief

Bodily Autonomy

Family don’t end in blood

Family is Hell/Absent Fathers and Absent Gods

What makes a monster monstrous

Love

12. Are we ever really done? The most recently mentioned character's actor has decided to leave the show. Kill off their character. 

If you roll 12 again for another episode, the character returns.

There's a few bonuses to a character returning, so if you so choose, Flip a coin. 

Heads: the actor chose to come back and the character looks the same. 

Tails: the actor did not reprise their role so the character has a "new vessel." 

The other bonus flip:

Heads: upon return, the character is on the side of the protags 

Tails: upon return, the character is working against the protags

Have fun and happy writing <3

Please feel free to tweak this game however works best for you. And if anyone does actually end up writing and posting something based off this, PLEASE tag me bc I wanna see lmao

Tagging a few writing buddies who might get a kick out of this: @kerryweaverlesbian @shallowseeker @bloodydeanwinchester @gryptids @kingflups

[lol-jackles]

Walker series finale review

It’s only been a week since Cordell nearly died and Luna died in Cassie’s arms, so their people are hard at work being there for them.  Like the start of season 3, Cordell wants everything back to the way it was and overcompensates by being extra, but his family simply want him to be in the present with them, and then take one step at the time. 

Stella tells her dad that there is no version of life where he’s being gone is better, it will just be a different kind of pain.  She gives him the letters he wrote while he was undercover in case he doesn’t make it out alive.  She and August didn’t read the letters because it came from a different version of their father and they don’t need that now.  However, perhaps Cordell do, and figures it out from there.

Despite Cordell’s assurance to Geri that the Jackal case was an “exception of exceptions”, Geri wisely tells him that there’s always going to be “the next big case” and when it happens, she wants Cordell to go to her for support.  This makes me super happy that Geri doesn’t demand that he cuts back on his work or give up his job altogether but wants to be there for him when his job inevitably gets messy again.

Cassie has to reach back to the past to galvanize herself into thinking about a different future than the one she planned with Luna and goes to the lieutenant job interview.  Trey appears to give a stronger interview, but he’s only been a ranger a short time and the job goes to Cassie.  Of course it does because they changed Cassie’s personality from Cordell-lite in season 2&3 to James-lite in season 4, so she got the lieutenant job as the newly minted female version of Larry James, who was also Cordell’s previous partner.  Anybody remember when she and Cordell tamper with evidence just to satisfy their curiosity? (X) It was actually one of my favorite scenes.

The job promotion further propels Cassie to “leap forward” into a new future.  It also means Cassie will no longer be Cordell’s partner, which is for the best because emotionally she blames him for Luna’s death even when she's concerned about Cordell and asked Geri how he is doing. Two things can be true.  I predicted a while back (looking for the specific post) that Cordell and Trey would eventually become partners and now that it’s confirmed, we are robbed of that dynamic in season 5.

August graduation party is crowded and loud and its cathartic for the audience to see everybody happy and celebrating. We even see Cassie smiling at Cordell’s toast to his son, August Edward Walker, and the rest of the family.  Here I was expecting a Shakespearean middle name for August but it’s from Emily who was a Twilight fan.  Liam and Ben declared themselves team Jacob and just like that they’re moving in together.

The party grows raucous, and Bonham and Abilene hide out in their house.  Abilene apologizes to Bonham for abandoning him while she was launching her wedding venue business and assures him that she wants to oversee and “meddle”, not deal with the bride of the week.  Nope she’s leaving bride handling to the gay guy.  Bonham compromise by keeping the boat and uses it for her events as a tax write off.  Win win!

Cordell takes a leave of absence for the summer to take August, Stella, and Geri (and a secret ring box) on a much-needed vacation, which Cassie grants on the first day of the lieutenant job because “they both need this”. A time apart from each other and away from the daily reminders will do them both good.

While the finale is a 'happy ending', there are underlying sadness that's been there since the pilot episode, starting with Cordell, then Micki, and now Cassie. Each of them has lost romantic partners to death and Cordell said time doesn't heal everything. What is unspoken is work and more work will get them through the pain of grief.

As Bonham and Abeline enjoys a boat ride and Cordell and his children and Geri head out of town, an unexpected double cliffhanger happens: Liam gets recruited by the governor for a secret job and he’s whisked away by men in black in front of the impressed Ben; the Davidson lands is sub-leased by a hippie version of SPN Lucifer, due to his all-white outfit, who is none other than Dawson Leery, played of course by a grinning James Van Der Beek!

Final score: 9.7. Point 1 deduction for each arcs we won't see in season 5: Cordell and Trey's new partnership , Liam's new job from the governor, and new neighbor cult leader Dawson Leery

[moonrisecoeur]

carnage — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is a secondary piece to apathy, another fic of mine!! that fic was mostly a vent fic, as i wrote it to kinda soothe myself and my own worries about how i feel as a person. however!! this fic was requested to be significantly darker and sadder, so if you don’t vibe with that, then i have good news for u !! leon and reader actually lived happily ever after in that universe!! the original intent of that fic is that the reader just has the self perception of a bad person but is actually not at all!! but this fic… is not that haha.. 

author’s note: if you see typos, no you don’t. they’re not real. this fic is... really messy. i'm kinda ashamed but i've been working on it so long that i need to just post it lol.

word count: 5.3k 

content: leon x reader, sub!leon, dom!fem!reader, angst angst angst, biting, hickieys, riding, choking, leon gets lightheaded and passes out, violent language. there's also a reference to a scene from apathy but from more of leon's recollection and memory! :)

warning: this fic is dark content, containing the topics and depictions of emotional abuse, manipulation, love-bombing ish, narcissistic reader, along with dubcon as reader doesn’t listen when leon expresses a boundary around choking. 

—

notes:

“you’re killing me here,” he says, a soft tone to his gravel-like voice. he is tired, exasperated. you are ripping him apart, stealing any sense of joy from his aching soul. he gives and gives and gives and he doesn’t know how much longer he has in him before you…  before maybe he admits that you were right. maybe you would ruin him.

you don’t know the half of it, you think. maybe i will really kill you one of these days.

—

leon is growing.. tired of you. 

not really. that’s a lie. he loves you dearly, so much that it kills him. you refuse to open up to him and he respects your boundaries. he just can’t keep begging you to let him in. he can’t do this forever. 

he’s not mad that you’re closed off, that you’re a loner and you’re introverted. he accepts you for what you are. he loves you regardless, but can’t you see this hurts him? can’t you at least make an attempt to make him feel better? pushing him away only hurts him, and why did you agree to a relationship if you knew that all you were going to do is hurt him? 

he supposes you warned him. that beautiful night that he convinced you to let him stay in your heart. he looks back at that moment, how you looked close to tears, pushing him back, telling him that you’ll ruin him and anything else you touch, and all he could think about is how badly he wanted to kiss you, to hold you close and wipe away the tears of frustration. he’s fond of that moment, when you decided to stay with him. when you said you’d take your time, move slowly, but you’d eventually let him in. he just had to be patient.

but its been months, and leon hates being wrong, but he might have been that night. 

–

leon’s always seen the good in you. he admires how gentle and sweet you are. you say it’s just a facade, and you know what? he doesn’t believe you. he knows you’re trying to protect yourself, but you’re lying. the version of you that you think is the real you is actually the facade. he knows it. he believes it, believes in you.

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?” you said to him that night, and he just shook his head, smiling. he adores you, almost amused at how you were making yourself out to be an awful monster in hopes he’d have understood that he could never fix you.

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he said, and then followed it up with a whisper, under his breath, one you might not have heard, “i will let you ruin me.”

your touch is lethal, that much he’s certain of. he knows you’re not trying to hurt him, he’s convinced it's not in your nature to be intentionally cruel, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

but what was he supposed to do? listen to you? heed your warning? he’s too foolish, too lovesick.

“it’s okay,” he reassures, reciprocating your harsh touch with his gentle one, fingertips making acquaintances with the way your skin feels in his grasp, the warmth of your touch. he’s starting to feel like this beautiful monster in front of him is a lot more human than she feels, “i like you as you are.”

-

leon doesn’t quite remember when you got so overbearingly possessive. maybe you were a little controlling, a little too demanding. it didn’t really make sense because anytime he tried to be possessive over you, you hated it. you certainly weren’t clingy. leon learned to control the instinct, the one that screamed in his head that you were his.  he gets it. you’re independent, not exactly into the jealous boyfriend type, sure. it only hurts his ego a little bit. 

he doesn’t really even remember when your behavior started going downhill. it was just like.. one day, he woke up, and you had left. not actually, you were just outside, but it feels symbolic somehow. he calls your name, and you don’t answer. he takes a couple steps closer, but he gets this eerie feeling he’s stepping into dangerous territory. he wonders if he should turn back, give you some time and let your soul come back to your body. 

“i don’t love you,” you said to him that day. 

it shattered him momentarily, but he knew your ways. he was aware of how you act and talk, your bluntness didn’t even surprise him anymore. he learned not to try and fight you on this stuff anymore.

that’s not true.. is what he wanted to say.

“…since when?” is what he actually ended up saying. 

you sigh, “i don’t know. i just woke up today and i realized i didn’t love you anymore.”

“do you… feel love for someone else?” he asks, but that’s not what he’s really asking. leon would never believe you if you said you cheated on him. you don’t even like people. you could count on your hand the amount of people you liked to talk to. 

leon maintains being one of them, of course. how could he believe that you made a connection with another man when you can only tolerate him? 

so, what he’s really asking is ‘do you… feel anything right now?’. sometimes emotions go away. sometimes you find yourself sitting outside in the early morning even though it’s cold and you’re shivering, wondering why you don’t love your boyfriend anymore. 

he puts his jacket over your shoulders. that feels symbolic somehow too.

it usually passes, but there’s something so final in your tone. like… for the first time, leon was worried you’re being truthful. he was worried you didn’t love him.

he had every reason to be. you used to pull away and then come right back to him, and now… you almost seem to resent him. crazy, it’s almost like you said this would happen. he hates that he was wrong about you, he hates that you were right. 

you flinch away when he touches you sometimes. your words are harsher than usual, more venomous, more lethal. you’re slipping away from him, you’re running away, and he’s begging for you to come back to him. just come back to him.

and even now, he looks at you and you aren’t the girl he fell in love with. but maybe you never changed. maybe he has just been blind. 

maybe you were exactly who you said you’d be. 

did you even want him? or would you get off anyway on taunting him?

did he mean anything to you?

-

“i am your… sculpture. your muse. i am everything you made me to be,” he says softly, one day during a vicious argument (only one of you is truly venomous), his eyes still red from the tears you made him spill, “if you do not like me, or if you don’t like what i’ve become, it is your own fault. i am only what you… did to me.”

he says pretty words that tug on your heartstrings if only to get some kind of empathy out of you. you’d normally scoff, spitting at him that he was a broken mess before you fixed him up, made him useful to somebody. 

“you act like i ruined you. like i made you worse. i did not drag you down with me. we were both broken. both disasters who just wanted to be loved,” you know you’re bullshitting just for pity points. doesn’t change the face that leon almost falters. almost gives in, lets you win. you were right, in a way. you were just being intentionally oblivious. 

“me wanting to be loved was… so much different. i wanted to be cherished and…held dear to you. you wanted a trophy that would make you feel better about yourself.”

“i am not the monster you say i am,” you scowl, finally he sees your harshness, your cruelty, and your dismissiveness in full force. how was he so blind?

“you’re right…” he says, “you… are so much worse.”

“then push me off of you, make me leave,” you groan, pinning him down like a caged animal. 

“i’m not… i..” i stutters, looking up the ceiling, “oh my god..”

“i am the only god you get to call out for,” you say as you press kisses to his collarbone, “i hold that power over you. i am your god.”

“i won’t worship you anymore,” he gasps, but his hands reach up to hold your hips, latching onto you for support and intimacy, like you are everything he’s ever needed and he despises you for it, “not what you’ve become. i can’t accept this…. version of you.”

“this is me, leon,” your voice is distant. resigned. he’s given up on you. and you’ve given up on him. 

so why do you demand his reverence so desperately? if you didn’t want him to run, why didn’t you treat him right in the first place?

“i love you, you know,” he says, tears pricking at his eyes, “i am just your design, molded to how you wanted me, but you designed me to love you… so that’s what i do.”

“i didn’t ask you to destroy yourself for me.”

“but i did anyway,” he closes his eyes, breathing ragged, “but i did and i did it because i loved you. i did it so that maybe one day you wouldn’t run away from me if i loved you too much. i.. i don’t act overbearing or clingy like i am inside because i am horrified of you leaving me. if i try too hard, if i want you too much, if am too desperate for your company… i will lose you. i can’t live with that.”

“then why do you call me worse than a monster? if you need me so badly?”

“because i..  i wanted you to destroy me and build me anew. recreate me in your image so you could have exactly what you wanted. make me exactly what you wanted!” he’s desperate for you to understand, but you never will. you don’t know desperation like he does, “i.. i just made the naive assumption that you would love your creation more than you loved what i used to be. that somehow.. if i let you ruin me, you’d finally love me.”

“i do love you,” you whisper, voice heavy with a tragedy you are all too familiar with.

“no… you don’t love anyone,” he bites, his teeth grazing his own lip like he would draw his own blood, “not even yourself. you’re incapable.”

“then it is your fault..” you say, cruelty laced into your voice, but how could you not be cruel when leon’s finally biting back? “you did this to yourself. you ruined yourself for someone you knew couldn’t love you.”

he feels broken. betrayed. how is this his fault? how could you hate him so intensely? how could you want him to suffer? do you enjoy watching him suffer? is that the only way he can make you happy anymore?

is that the only thing you want from him? his suffering? his tears?

does he give that to you? just… as one final way to make you happy? he’d ruin himself again and again to please you if you said so.

he’d give you anything.

you push him down, and he stumbles back onto the bed, looking up at you nervously. he notices the look in your eyes, the look of possession, you see him like an object or a toy. maybe he is. a trophy. you look at him like he’s something that makes you feel proud to carry around. leon kennedy. he’s a survivor, he's a killer, been through literal hell on earth. yet… your hands on him make him feel weak. he feels like he’s 21 again, on that bridge holding onto the last girl that dug her nails into his heart. 

“you’re fucking mine,” you growl in his ear, and he gasps and shudders, when did you get so close to him? you can’t put your hands on him like this, you can’t do this, his mind will go numb to the pain you cause and suddenly he’ll be held beneath you, inescapably yours. 

“you.. you need to… oh my god..” he was so close to saying it. so, so close. he tries so hard to push you away. to get you off of him. not in a way that he couldn’t stop you if he really didn’t want this. but that's just it; he’s trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want you for his own sake.

you make it so hard to hate you, truly. 

“you’re mine,” you growl in his ear, your nails digging into him like claws of a predator into its most delicious prey, “i own you. say that back to me.”

he cries like a baby, hating that he was naive enough to believe that the devil could love him, she could never love him and he could never please her enough to make her stay, “i’m yours, and.. and you own me,” he says, sniffling. he buries his head into the pillow. you push him, hold him down like he’s your captive. he might as well be. 

“and that means i own your pretty body, doesn’t it?” you smirk, god this control over him has always been addicting. you.. really own him.

“y-yeah..” 

“that means i can do whatever i want with you, doesn’t it? i can break you in every way possible, like a girl scribbling on and cutting the hair of her barbies. you don’t exist outside of me, outside of my pleasure.”

-

“fuck, you’re so hot when you’re sad..” you groan as you press kisses to his hip, and he didn’t even realize you had gotten his shirt off and his pants pulled down. he must have dissociated again. he sighs, upset but unable to will himself up to stop you.

at least you’re trying to please him, he supposes. your hands wandering all over him makes him feel alive, but he wonders if you’re imagining wrapping your hands around his throat and squeezing until he stops moving. maybe you would take a liking to killing. 

or maybe it’s just because it’s leon. leon is your weak, pathetic boyfriend that you’ll play with like a ken doll until you’re bored of him, and then you’ll either put him out of his misery or leave him to rot. maybe murder is mercy for him. the worst part is he looks just like a ken doll, blue eyes and blonde hair, except he’s a bit more broken. a bit scarred. damaged. is that why you don’t want him? he’s not perfect enough?

and then it happens. 

everything stops, his breath catches in his chest, he flinches almost like he’s surprised you still had it in you, but you kiss him. it’s not possessive and dark and commanding like he expects, like he’s begun to tolerate, but it’s you. it’s your softness, hidden underneath, that gentle lover that he misses so desperately. she’s back. she’s real again. 

you rest your forehead against his as you pull away from the kiss, leon chasing your lips briefly before remembering this is your moment, at your pace, but he’s looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky, his eyes sparkling with magic and passion and hope he hasn’t felt in a while. 

“come back to me..” he whispers gently, “i miss you.”

“i.. know,” you frown, and leon can tell you feel guilty. you are the monster in his nightmares, but you are also his guardian angel, “i told you, leon-”

“i know you did, i- i don’t want to fight with you right now,” his eyes flutter closed as you press your lips to his forehead, god he feels so cared for in moments like these.

but he knows they’re not real. he knows this version of you isn’t real, that your love is a false pretense and he is a fool for being swept off his feet by such an obvious facade. a monster that loves you is still a monster.

and leon knows it. knows that you love him, despite his insecurities and doubts. maybe it was safer or easier to ponder whether or not you loved him, to listen to you when you said you didn’t, instead of realizing that you did… just not enough.

he feels your grasp on his waist, the way your hands and mouth ravage his body. he knows you’re possessive, but it still shocks him how truly cruel you are. 

“please…” he whimpers, “be gentle with me..”

“ah, leon.. survived the apocalypse but can’t handle his girlfriend biting him a little too hard..” you chuckle, and it’s soft and you’re being sweet with him again and everything is okay. 

“don’t be like that, come on. it still hurts,” his voice is shaky, making you smile. such a sadist.

“don’t be such a baby,” you tease.

“just- okay, fine, but i don’t want any hickies or bite marks or anything. n-not anywhere visible, at least,” he stumbles when your fingertips drag across his collarbone, “please, baby. i need to hide them, my… my coworkers will get worried.”

he sees it in your eyes. mercy. begging always saved him.

“hmm… open your mouth,” you say, and he’s not even trying to follow the command, but the surprises causes his jaw to drop slightly, and you lean closer, before spitting directly into his mouth. 

your saliva tastes like your favorite flavor of gum, and leon smiles as he recollects that fact. it’s sweet of you to only do something like that to him when it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant. maybe you didn’t think it out that far, but he likes to think you did. he wants to think you were considerate. he groans as he swallows it without even having to ask, almost sounding dehydrated, like you are his lifeline. 

your intentions, while a tad bit humiliating, are not cruel. but again, you’re showing possession. leon is yours to do whatever you please with. it’s marking your territory, in a way.

“thank you..” he shudders, hands clutching your arms, keeping you close. he’s not truly grateful, but he’s learned his place. 

“you’re welcome,” your tone is condescending, but leon’s thoughts are too far away to realize that. all he knows how to do anymore is be obedient.

a brief silence settles for a moment, as you rest atop of him, gazing at him like a predator does their next meal. 

“do you… want to fuck me now?” he asks awkwardly, cringing at how completely uncool he is. 

maybe someone else would laugh at his lack of charisma, but you just smile softly. 

“is that what you want?” in truth, he does want this. he does want you. and he prides himself on giving you whatever you want, everything, absolutely anything. it’s too bad all you know how to do is take.

he sighs, feeling heavy-hearted and drained. he can’t pinpoint why, “i love you. do whatever you want.”

you blink, and he wonders for a moment if you feel guilty again, but part of him can tell you’re not.

you narrow your eyes. he seems.. broken down by this point. honestly, ‘broken down’ might not exactly be the right wording. ‘broken in’ might be more appropriate. like a pair of boots that are only comfortable once you rough them up a little. 

it’s at that moment that he realizes the softness he saw in you just now is fading away rapidly, replaced again by the monstrous beast that is his darling lover. at least she’s familiar now. it’s his fault. you are exactly who you said you were. he should have believed you. 

he thinks this is it, that this is the last time he’ll get to have you before you leave him. you steal all of his sunshine like a parasite, robbing him of all of his life energy and taking it for yourself. the only way you can feel whole anymore is to take leon apart and use him for everything his mortal body and soul has to offer. 

he remembers being the light in your life, cheering you up when you were down. you were his moon, and he shined his light onto you like the sunlight gives way to moonlight. 

but that isn’t real anymore. you aren’t the damaged but loving person he used to know. 

“are you… going to leave after?” he asks. he’s pouting ever so slightly but he doesn’t realize it.

you just gaze at him, eyes soft but knowing, and he can’t help but crying. he tries so hard not to be clingy or ‘too much’. makes himself less and less to make you comfortable. 

“please don’t leave me,” he cries, “please, i can’t bear to think about it. my… my love, please..”

part of him feels like if he lets you leave again, you won’t ever come back.

he can’t understand why he’s so desperate for you to stay. he feels your hand around his neck as you lean in close to kiss his shoulder, you don’t squeeze but your presence is known and feared just like you like it, your other hand falling lower and lower until… 

leon can’t fathom just how wrong he was about you, about everything in general, but what hurts the most is putting the timeline together. it starts with him realizing he loved you. you realizing you loved him. the gentle, sweet months he got to spend with you. sure, you were unconventional, but he’s not the nuclear family type either. 

to him realizing you didn’t love him, actually. 

to then realizing that you did love him, but not enough to change for him. that one hurt the most.  knowing that you’ll always choose your comfort over him.

and to finally coming to terms with the fact that your love is strong and real but it is rotten, that you and your heart are corrupting him and made something tragic out of him. 

he sighs, letting it all happen. he might as well let you have what you want. he feels your hand rubbing against the fabric of his pants over his crotch, teasing him. 

he’s almost happy you’re using him one last time for sex. it’ll give him something to distract his mind from the sadness that’s creeping into his heart.

“i think… my boy needs to feel good.. so he can stop thinking sad thoughts..” your free hand pulls his sweats down and feel him up over his boxers, and he hates that he’s getting hard. that he likes this. he likes being taken by the big, bad monster.

he lets you touch him, lets you strip him down both metaphorically and physically, until he’s bare, a blank canvas ready to be ruined. he has literal scars from bites that drew blood, teeth bared into his skin like you’re trying to consume him alive. 

maybe you are.

this isn’t intimate sex between two lovers. this is carnage. this is ravaging, taking what is rightfully yours. it may not be violence in its usual form, but you are no less deadly. 

you really can’t help yourself when you have the urge to grab his throat, can you? hold his life in your hands, why don’t you?

he wants to make love to you, to hold you close like he used to, fuck you until your mind let go of its need to be in control, to be apathetic and composed and cold and just let you be the soft soul he knows is in there, fucking somewhere in there. 

instead of that, he gets something completely different. claiming. ownership. you mark your territory like an violent dog, biting and scratching and ruining him until everyone else in his life got the hint that he wasn’t allowed to play with anyone else. 

you’re violently possessive, that’s the only way he can put it. and even now, when he should be kissing you and moaning in your ear about how good you feel around his cock, how perfect you are for him, how he wants to be good for you, exactly what you want in your man, he.. can’t. 

all he can do is whine and whimper like an injured puppy. 

instead of kissing you, he’s begging for mercy. instead of making love to you, he’s lost in a daze of pain, mixed in with the pleasure of his cock buried inside of you. your teeth fucking hurt when you bite him like a damn vampire. just like the last time you were in a possessive mood, you bite him hard enough to make him bleed.

“i… i love you,” he whimpers after the fact, his voice is shaky like he’s desperate, “i love you but you’re… i don’t like it when you’re like this”

“who do you belong to?” you ask, suddenly. 

it feels unrelated, but even though leon’s eyebrows furrow at the question, he responds, like it’s an instinct, or rather more it’s a response he’s gives hundreds of times, “you. it’s.. always gonna be you.”

“… i love you too, you know. sometimes i think you don’t believe me,” rich coming from the ‘i don’t love anybody’ girl, he thinks, “but i do. i’m always gonna love you. you just don’t like the way i love you.”

“because the way you love me is killing me.”

“i’m not a killer. you asked me to let you in. this is the real me, leon. if you don’t like what you see… then don’t look.”

“i do but i-”

“you wish you were the exception to the rule. you want to be the reason i change. honestly, leon? i’ll never get better. and i told you that months ago, but you never listened. you thought you could fix me.”

“you aren’t broken,” he whispers.

“then why do you insist on changing me?” 

he scoffs, “that’s rich coming from you.” he knows you’ll get annoyed at him for his sass, but he can’t help it. you’re a violent hypocrite and he adores you, but he can’t ignore the irony of you feeling forced to change.

you tighten your grip on his neck, and he should have told you months ago but he hates being choked. brings up old memories that he’d rather not remember. he doesn’t really know why he lets you do it, why he tolerates it. maybe it’s because you seem so pleased to be in control of his life like that. he can’t afford to piss you off too much. you might like murder a little too much. 

“why do you insist on fixing me?” you ask again. loosing up your grip to let him talk.

“i… i never wanted to fix you. i just wanted you to love me. i wanted… to make you happy.”

he lets out the cutest gasp when you finally use your free hand to pull his cock free, not even bothering to pull his boxers down all the way.

“awh, you’re still so soft, baby. do you not want me?” you taunt him, and he quickly tries to reassure you, shaking his head. 

“n-no! i do! i want you, just.. just give me a second..” he stutters helplessly, but his voice gives out when you lean down to kiss his hip bone, and then your lips trail down lower and lower, adoring his thighs with the remnants of your lip gloss, “oh god…”

he’s pretty. pretty like a prey animal. 

you decide that maybe its not fair to him that he’s almost butt naked and you’re still fully clothed, so you undress too. leon appreciates that you do it to please him. 

“i… you’re so fucking pretty,” he whimpers, begging you to kiss him again. can he just pretend like you’re making love? instead of… whatever this is? 

his cock isn’t super big, so it’s not hard to fit inside, especially since he’s just barely getting hard. seeing your body was enough to get him going. he likes everything about you. every beauty mark or mole or freckle, every scar and each divot and curve, he adores you.

your smile isn’t appreciative. it is greedy. avaricious. you.. need more of him. 

“you feel… so perfect inside of me..” you groan, the grip on his neck tightening as he obediently rocks his hips up to fuck you. his hands grasp at the sheets, white knuckles displaying how tense he feels. 

a shaky, almost fearful moan escapes his throat, “please.. please don’t squeeze that hard.”

again, leon doesn’t like being choked.. so many times he’s almost been killed, and yet… you don’t seem to care. you don’t squeeze hard enough to make him pass out, but he’s getting lightheaded, so much so that you’re having to pick up the slack of bouncing on his cock since he’s unable to keep pace. he just lays there helplessly while you steal away his life.

“leon..” you tease, holding in a giggle, and trying to stir his attention, but his eyes get cloudy and he can’t focus on you, can’t look you in the eye meaningfully.

all he can respond with is a half-hearted attempt at a ‘huh?’. it’s honestly kind of cute how easily fucked out he gets. you ease up, and he breathes deeply for the first time in a couple minutes, gasping out ‘thank you’s like you just saved his life instead of almost killing him. 

“i’m sorry you got stuck with someone like me, baby,” you murmur, you’re not really sorry. tears fall down his cheeks, and you lean down to lick them up like a dog drinks her water. he cringes, disgusted at the feeling, but you own him so intrinsically.. how could he ever stop you from doing exactly what you wanted to him? this was your world. he just lived in it.

—

leon wakes up the next morning, expecting to be alone in your shared bedroom after you had left. you’re not completely awful, you clean him up and bandage any cuts after you finished with him… and leon realizes he doesn’t exactly remember anything after you choking him a little too aggressive, he must have passed out. did he cum even while unconscious? he’s almost impressed.

he doesn’t remember you leaving, just the looming thought in his mind that you will leave. there was no doubt about it.

you’re not there, clearly, and he doesn’t hear you anywhere in the bathroom or in the kitchen. the silence is deafening. 

maybe you’re on a walk to clear your head? 

maybe… you’re really gone.

but your stuff is still at home, so he thinks you might still stay. he cant decide if that’s a good thing. sure, he can’t exist without you, so codependent it’s pathetic, but… you’re not exactly good for him. maybe it’d do him some good to pull himself together and get over you. if he even can.

he loves you. helplessly. desperately. but you love his pain more than you love him. that’s the truth and there’s no denying that. you are.. exactly who you said you’d be. it’s his fault for not believing you.

[desertdollranch]

Kirsten's bedroom renovation

It's a sunny spring day in Minnesota Territory, and Kirsten is stuck indoors, helping with the spring cleaning. Her first task is to sweep the upstairs bedrooms--she shares one with her three siblings, and so it gets messy very quickly. But Kirsten doesn't complain--she remembers her previous home, a one-room log cabin on her aunt and uncle's farm. That was easier to clean, but it was hard sharing such a small place with six people. After a fire burned that cabin down, the Larsons bought a much larger house, the beautiful home they dreamed they'd have when they left Sweden two years ago.

As for my part in this, I created a bedroom for my Kirsten doll a few years ago, but I recently renovated it to make it look more like the illustrations in Kirsten's sixth book, Changes for Kirsten.

The walls in this illustration look like they've been finished with plaster, which was common in houses at the time. The light color would have come from local sources of limestone.

So most of the changes I made were to the walls and windows. I used printed photographs for the windows, and added the twelve-pane window frames over the images before printing. For the walls, I took down the boring white wood paneling. I imitated that plastered look using tissue paper stuck to the first layer of pale yellow paint, and then I painted another layer over the tissue paper.

The furnishings are basically the same, except for the trunk on the right side of this photo. She used to store her clothes in the top half of Felicity's clothes press, which I mentioned in my recent post about moving the clothes press into the parlor for Caroline to use. After I did that, I knew Kirsten would need a place to store her clothes, and what better piece than a smaller version of her trunk?

Most of the things in the above picture are not from Kirsten's collection. The bed was made by my grandpa when I was eight and first got my Kirsten doll. My mom made the quilt on the bed and the one on the rocking chair, the pillow and mattress on the bed, and the two darker gray cats. The foot stove next to the bed is Pleasant Company, and so are the shoes (including snow shoes) lined up next to the trunk. The rocking chair came from an antique store. I made everything else: both rugs, the cradle, the nightstand, the candle and book and stuffed cat on the nightstand, the cross stitch hanging on the wall, the shelves and everything on them, the painted round boxes at the foot of the bed, baby Britta's dress, and Kirsten's quilt square in the embroidery hoop.

This is a little wooden trunk I found at a craft store. I painted it blue and then painted on the decorative designs using stencils.

That's Kirsten's straw hat hanging on the wall, from her collection. My mom made the two sunbonnets.

I gave it a weathered look by lightly brushing on white and red paint.

The trunk can hold all of Kirsten's clothes. It has room for a few more dresses too. I have almost all of Kirsten's clothes; I'm only missing her baking outfit, skating coat, and promise dress.

I also made the gingham curtains for the windows. There's a lot of blue and white going on in here, so I wanted them to match the color themes.

Next to Britta's cradle are the round boxes I made to hold Kirsten's socks and ribbons, which are all Pleasant Company things. Her lunch box and bucket are from craft stores.

I remade her honey crate and the jars of honey. They now contain clear glue dyed with food coloring. I made her little gnomes too.

The rocking chair was an antique store find. It's perfect for her to sit with her baby sister Britta.

I also painted a little flourish on the end of her bed.

This definitely isn't all of Kirsten's collection--I have a few pieces hidden away underneath her room that won't fit here. That includes her actual big trunk that my grandpa made, her Saint Lucia wreath and tray that I made, her dishes set from her official collection, and some other small things that she doesn't need in her room.

[rad-batson]

THIS IS FOR FANS OF CASSANDRA CAIN! PLEASE READ! I WANT YOUR THOUGHTS

(skip to the bottom if you just want silly headcanons about her :D)

Hello! So first, I want to thank everyone who read the Wayne pilot I made :) I appreciate your feedback, and I love you all.

As I'm preparing to post it on AO3, I decided to make a few (admittedly small) changes to the script, primarily around Cassandra Cain, because I haven't quite fleshed her out yet.

I don't have much experience with writing Cass, so I decided to do a bit of research on her yesterday, and wouldn't you know? I fell in love. 10/10. She didn't play a huge part in the pilot, but she will have a bigger one in the second episode, and there are a few things I think can or should be added so she doesn't feel too one-note.

There wasn't anyone who told me this, by the way. (In fact, I actually got some nice comments about her so thank you.) I just had it in the back of my mind while writing, and now that Cass is getting more screen time, I'm finding that my lack of knowledge might lead to mischaracterization.

SO TO COMBAT THIS, I MADE A GUIDE FOR MYSELF ON HOW TO WRITE CASS

Is this overkill? Probably Think of it as a silly headcanon list for my version of her. And I'm posting it here because I want your feedback before it's set in stone. (I know Cass isn't written well a lot, so this is my attempt to right these horrid wrongs.)

If you're going to give criticism, please be constructive. Tell me what you like or don't like. I'm all ears. Have fun :)

Writing Cass

(Btw I still gotta read Cass’s first Batgirl run by Kelley Puckett)

Has some sass, has a lot actually

Used to be awkward in social settings. she’s better at it when she’s with people so she can match their energy but she still prefers to just dip

Speaks in short-ish sentences, trying her best tho

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT, I JUST WANT TO KNOW TO WHAT DEGREE?? OR IS IT REALLY FINE

Mostly just relies on body language though

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT TOO, ESPECIALLY WITH THE ASL SCENE (BUT IT’S NOT REPLACING THE ASL)

also yes i know her using ASL isn't canon, it just works best for the scene, it would have been written the same whether she was in it or not, it is still a cute nod to fanon tho

Steph and Cass are extremely close BUT ALSO HAVE SEPARATE LIVES (I HAVE BEEN TOLD TO STRESS THAT AND I AGREE)

Messy, low-key gross. Bad-ish hygiene but she’s good at looking put-together so only those close know this about her (this is just my headcanon)

Often forgets bigger words so she occasionally uses the wrong one, she ALSO mixes up proverbs but no one corrects her because 1: it’s cute and 2: they don’t want to discourage her from speaking with them more casually (also my headcanon)

Cass: So I pulled the door off its…*makes motion with hand*…metal books. Steph: Do you mean hinge— Cass: Metal books.

Dick: Well that was a surprise. I didn’t know The Penguin would be here. Cass, nodding: Well life gives you grapes Dick: Wut Cass: You make grape juice. Get on the same book, Nightwing

I'M ON THE FENCE ABOUT ADDING THIS ONE BECAUSE IDK LET ME KNOW PLEASE

Is a cinnamon bun AND a little shit, it’s a balancing act

Production: She’s Wayne’s darling Princess Cass: *will break your fingers*

She does appear behind the camera crew to scare them on purpose, she thinks it’s funny, she likes seeing them freak out

She is super competitive, but she's always like "Oh I'm not that competitive" *proceeds to be very competitive*

Because she isn't super confident in her writing or speaking (or just uncomfortable communicating without seeing the other person's body language) she prefers to Facetime or simply reply to texts with selfies of her reaction. It is a thing now. when you need an honest opinion about an outfit, text a photo to Cass. She will either give back a photo of a thumbs up or a photo of a grimace and some not-so-flattering emojis

Her princess persona is her public cover persona in this show, parallel to Bruce’s “Brucie” and Dick’s “born for the cameras” thing

Is surprisingly vocal (and sometimes snippy) about her distaste with things but she mostly gets a pass because her morals align best with Bruce’s

Is most snippy when her family uses methods other than violence when violence is clearly the faster option, god they're such pacifists

Tim: *trying carefully to pick a lock* Cass: Just break through the wall? Tim: We can’t do that. We’re trying not to be noticed. Cass: Wimp

Bruce: Cass, why did you have to dislocate that man’s shoulder? Cass: I put it back. Bruce: That’s not the point. Cass: Fine, I’ll dislocate it again.

Is the best fighter, none of this “oh she’s the best fighter so when people do win against her, it makes them look cooler” thing, shut tf up, she could break their bones (not important to the show ofc but I need to add this because it is important in general)

Horrible at drawing, wretched (again a headcanon but I did see someone else mention it somewhere)

Also bad at writing, refuses to study to improve out of principle (i.e. she told Babs she doesn’t need to and now she refuses to admit Babs was right)

(AND SIDE-HEADCANON IF SHE IS HORRIBLE AT WRITING AND ACTIVELY HATED STUDYING HER ALPHABET THEN WHAT IF LIKE ONE DAY SOMEONE SAYS “hey can you grab me one of these files from last week’s case, it’s under M” SHE’S LIKE “fuck you, how could you do this to me” WHILE SEARCHING FOR M OR MORE SIMPLY *throws something at them*)

That's all I have right now. If you'd like to give me any recommendations, please do. I can't promise I'll add in every single one because this show is still about the whole Batfam, not just her, but I want to do her justice, and that definitely involves more fine-tuning on my part

OKAY THAT'S ALL LOVE YOU BYE

[dotmander]

How To Get Your Character Models Out Of A Game: Tips And Tricks For Bitches That Have Never Used Blender

(it's me, i'm bitches)

(also ignore how messy that lighting is it's 1am and i should have been asleep hours ago. he's there for proof of concept 💕)

a couple people (specifically @forsaken-constellation and @ratasum) asked for a tutorial on how to rip models out of the game. this is not that, but it is a compilation of resources i used to learn about ripping, blender, and 3d modeling in general. i desperately wanted a post like this to exist when i was trying to figure this out, so here we go! all the resources below are completely free, with the exception of a link to the patreon of the person that created ninjaripper.

disclaimers:

there are probably more efficient ways to do the things i am doing. i watched a tutorial to learn shortcuts and then skipped to character models. if you have tips to add, corrections to make, or other thoughts, please feel free to share! i'll link to your post here. ^^

i do not know if any of this will get your account banned. i've ripped several models, so i'm going to assume it's fine as long as you don't try to make money off of it. use your best judgment, be an adult, etc etc etc

last updated: june 30, 2024

PROGRAMS & WEBSITES

ninjaripper 1.7.1 - there's a newer version on the creator's patreon, presumably with support for newer versions of blender and fewer bugs, but i haven't tried that

blender 2.79 - the import addon that comes with ninjaripper 1.7.1 is outdated for the current version of blender (3.5 as of this post), so 2.79 is needed to combine the .RIP files into a .BLEND (blender) file

noesis - ninjaripper saves your textures as .DDS files, noesis lets you view them and export them as .PNGs

blender 3.5 (optional?) - i just like it better than 2.79. if you're completely new it might not matter to you. all of the tutorials linked later are for later versions, though.

mixamo (optional) - rigs your character for you and lets you put them in Situations (like my guy above.) there's a whole library of free animations and poses you can try!

TUTORIALS

how to use ninjaripper - most of what you need to know about actually ripping the files and using ninjaripper is covered here. do not skip this one.

how to use blender 3.5 - full disclosure i haven't finished this series because it's uhhhh many hours long. but if you are a complete newbie to blender, i do recommend at least the first few videos; you'll learn about shortcuts that will make your life easier, how to unfuck your model when it fucks itself for no reason, and different terms that will help you google things you don't know later on. possibly he even covers some of the things i'm about to link! anyway.

what's a uv map?

how to apply textures

how to apply bump maps (note: for our purposes, you wouldn't add a color ramp node, you would add an image node with your bump map, and attach it to the bump node as the person does in the video)

there should be stuff here about weight painting, cloth physics, emission maps (makes your sylvari glow), and other stuff, but um. i haven't figured those out <3  

TIPS

TURN UP YOUR GRAPHICS BEFORE YOU RIP - if you don't, you might end up missing certain textures/glows/etc. HOWEVER, you should turn animations down, because apparently high animation can make your meshes misplace themselves

rip from the character select screen, rather than an instance, because you will have 100 meshes to sort through instead of 1400. i am not exaggerating either of those numbers. if you are new to blender, please love yourself and start with character select.

your textures will be fucked up the first time you try to apply them. this is because the UV maps (the things that tell your textures where to go) of your models are flipped upside down in relation to the texture image. you can flip them back over manually, ooooor you can just flip the entire texture file in something like CSP or photoshop.

for some reason all eyes are red in the texture files. i have not figured out why. i recommend editing the .PNG to have the correct eye color before applying the texture.

that's all i can think of for now - if you have other questions, feel free to shoot them my way, although i can't promise i'll have a straight answer ^^;;

mixamo only works for humanoid characters with tight clothing (or without clothing at all). if you try to use it to rig a charr or asura, or someone with a skirt or big sleeves, you will most likely be disappointed.

2024 edit: sometimes parts of hair meshes just...disappear. i have no idea why. if you can figure it out please let me know LMAO

information from bookahlogy about character proportions, fixing normals, and other fun tips

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Y'know, if Lila was just a one-off character for Volpina and we never saw her again, a few tweaks in that episodes writing could have made it a good lesson about not letting your temper get the best of you, even in a situation where your anger is justified

This is in reference to the post where I discussed how terrible Volpina's lesson is and I agree with the proposed change. If Marinette has to be in the wrong here, that's the only way to make it kind of work. In fact, this is what I thought the episode was trying to do on my first watch. When the next season started with Lila gone, I thought, "Okay, so that episode was supposed to be about being the better person and having a more measured response when you've been wronged. I don't think it did that lesson super well, but I can see what they were going for and we'll give them some grace. Definitely one that I wouldn't just give to a kid, though. Way too high a risk of them internalizing a very wrong message."

I only gave the writers that grace because I assumed that Ladybug had truly humiliated Lila out of Paris off screen (remember, we only see Ladybug out Lila to Adrien even though Lila was lying to everyone) and that is a pretty extreme punishment for a teenager making a dumb choice. Even then, saying that Ladybug was in the wrong feels a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Lila was the one telling the lies and using Ladybug's name for clout on a city-wide scale or possibly even a national/international scale depending on the Ladyblog's viewership. By telling those lies, Lila was harming Alya's credibility and presenting herself as a sort of authority on Ladybug, a position that she was going to use to her advantage as we saw with her manipulating Adrien. She was also putting herself at risk if Gabriel or other villains believed the lies and saw her as a way to get to Ladybug.

That means that the lies Lila told aren't exactly minor, victimless crimes like the lies Marinette and Adrien tell to hide their identities. Lilia's lies needed to be outed on the same scale that they were broadcast and there's no kind way to do that. It's going to have a brutal edge no matter how pretty the words are.

There are times when it's right to be "the better person" and let a thing go, but it's hard to view this as one of them because this was not a nuanced situation. There was no reasonable option other than issuing a public retraction and Ladybug didn't even go that far! She had a single, private confrontation with Lila and then let the matter rest. A better version of this episode might see Alya and Marinette giving a really mean retraction on the Ladyblog that they then feel bad about because they should have been more professional, but that's about it as far as possible improvements go.

If we look at what the episode actually gave us, it feels like another Gamer situation. An episode that blames Marinette for impure motivations while ignoring anyone else's faults, creating a nonsense moral that just makes me mad. Ladybug-is-wrong-for-confronting-the-liar-for-impure-reasons is certainly a take. It's just not one that I'm ever going to agree with. To give a recent, real-world example, do people really feel that James Somerton was the wronged party because his many, many lies and instances of plagiarism were outed in a brutal public takedown? (Context part 1 & part 2, though part 2 is the one to watch if you only want to see why letting lies from respected sources go unchecked can be so messy.)

To be clear, I don't think that Lila's lies were Somerton bad in Volpina, but they were starting to go down that road and they arguably reached Somerton levels by season five. Fakes identities, almost getting Marinette expelled, using her lies to get social power from Gabriel, the list goes on, which is yet another reason to hate Volpina. Its nonsense moral is a big part of why Lila could do all of that. Ladybug should have outed Lila! Society suffered and will continue to suffer because she didn't. That's why you have to stop misinformation as soon as you possibly can, but that wasn't actually the moral of Volpina. The moral was that Ladybug was in the wrong for being mean to the liar. Maybe if she'd been nicer, then Lila wouldn't be so evil now which is a very gross moral! Volpina really does feel even more victim blame-y now that Lila is the new big bad.

That's a good segue to circle back and finish off my original topic: I gave the writers grace for Volpina until Lila returned and established that she'd never been publicly outed. At that point, Volpina lost any chance at me giving it charity. The lesson was worse than I thought and I was fully justified in hating it. It's one of the ones I use when I explain why I wouldn't want a child getting into Miraculous because the problem with Volpina's moral is pretty straightforward.