#this was so sad to write

[via-l0ve]

piggy backing off of the second to last anon,- how would the guys react in the acting au where reader died in supernatural verse but their actor visits set so they see them how would they react?

“it’s you.” (SPN pref!)🩷

a/n: this is so sad omg. i loved writing this. i didn’t do preferences but more of a little blurb for each boy <3 (not crowley i’m sorry x7)

warnings: angst, mentions of death

Dean:

when he sees you, his world stops spinning. He knows it’s you. your hair, your eyes, your lips. the same ones he remembered kissing so many times. it’s you, and dean knows it. but it can’t be. how could you be back.

he’s so zoned out that he dosent realize you’re now standing right in front of him.

“hey.” you smile

and god, that smile. the one he never got to see again - it was almost enough for him to break down right then and there. but he had to talk to you.

“h-hey.” he said, his voice barely audible.

“you okay?” you asked him, looking into his eyes and seeing the anxiety and distress.

he was quiet for a moment.

“uh… weird day.” he said shakily.

you frowned and moved closer, embracing him.

your scent. your body. your face tucked into his shoulder. he got to hold you again. he got to see you. it’s you. he can’t hold back the tears. soft sobs come from his mouth as he holds you against him.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered.

“hey it’s okay. don’t apologize. it’s okay to cry.” you whisper back, rubbing his arms.

but that’s not why he was apologizing. he was sorry he let you down. he was so so so sorry that it was you and not him that had to go.

he shook, his grip tightening on your clothes.

“i miss you.” he uttered.

“aw. you do?”

“so much.”

but then you’re called to set, to observe a scene. and he has to let you go for the second time. he has to say goodbye.

—

Sam:

sam dosent move a muscle when he sees you. he just looks. admires. he sees you laughing with one of the directors and he knows it’s you.

He walks the other way. even though he knows how badly he wants to talk to you, hear you, feel you again, it would just hurt him more. he watches you from a distance, smiling when you smile.

you’re full of life again. the same shine in your eyes, the same excitement in your voice… the same y/n. but he knows it’s not you. he knows he can never have you.

Before you leave set for the night, Sam calls you over.

“hey… can i talk to you?” he asks you, choking back tears.

“yeah of course! what’s up?” the same smile he always loved.

“i just… i miss you.” he whispers.

you give him a look.

“miss me?” you ask with a smile. “you see me every day.”

if only, he thought.

“yeah, i know. it uh… it just feels more than that.” he said, eyes studying your face.

he pulls you into a hug.

“i’ve just been having a hard time.” and it wasn’t a lie. losing you in his world was life altering. and now, seeing you but not.. you, just made all the pain come back.

“i’m sorry jared.” a sting of pain goes through him. he couldn’t even hear you say ‘Sammy’ for a last time.

“i’m here for you. always will be.” another sting of pain rushes through him, because you won’t be. as soon as he goes back, he’ll have to learn to live without you again.

you pull away, smiling.

“i’m gonna go home. i’m exhausted. text me if ya need me.” you smiled, letting go of him and walking out.

he just watches, silent tears falling again.

—

Castiel:

Castiel goes into shock. why would the angels bring you back? which angel did it? it wasn’t him.. he couldn’t have even if he had the chance.

he watches you from a distance. is this a dream? where was he? how are you back?

he watches you talk to another woman with curious eyes. he can feel the pang in his heart overflow and he knows he wants to talk to you. but if he does.. will this be all a dream? will he awake from this obvious hallucination?

he walks over to you, slowly and timidly.

you look at him and he finds himself looking at your lips. the same smile lines he remembered, the same soft freckles that were only visible if you looked close.

it was you.

he walked faster, engulfing your body in a hug. neither of you spoke as he felt your body in his arms again.

“you okay?” your voice breaks him out of his trance.

“yes..yes i’m fine.” he says, pulling away and studying your face again. his hand reached up and cupped your cheeks in both of his warm palms.

you put your hands over his.

he feels the familiar feeling of you again. god.. he couldn’t let you go.

“are you sure?” you ask him softly.

he nods.

“are… are you okay?” he asks you, choking down some tears.

“yeah. i’m okay.” you smile.

even though he knows it’s not you, it fills him with a sense of peace. you, in this universe at least, are okay.

“i…i am missing you. at home.” he whispers again.

and even though you have no clue what he’s talking about, you hug him again, rubbing his back as he lets the tears fall.

he has to start from square one all over again. leaving you. getting over it.

[northernglorie]

♛ → THE NORTH present(s) GLORIE BOLTON, the LADY of DREADFORT. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-SIX year old FEMALE who was SELF-RELIANT & ENERGETIC before they saw the first of the flames, is now SUSPICIOUS & CALCULATING after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the slow twist of a knife in the back, bright lights hindered by darkness, and strings of a bow wound too tight . ( bruna marquezine )

✦Being born the youngest of the Boltons wasnt equivalent to being the weakest to Glorie. From the moment she made her way into the world, kicking and screaming, her presence at Dreadfort was one to be reckoned with. She was a daring, energetic child who gravitated more towards the company of her brothers than her sister. Although her mother assured she possessed all the hallmarks of a proper lady, she'd spend as much time in their presence as possible until they were warded elsewhere.

✦With more time available to shape her into the perfect lady, Glories mother began shifting her focus to things she'd neglected in the presence of her older brothers. Resistant at first, Glorie found interest in the colorful patterns of imported garments and catching attentions of the young men around Dreadfort, like that of her future husband Ryon Ryswell.

✦Unions between Boltons and Ryswells were a second nature then. With their lord as one of her fathers closest friends and confidantes, the marriage was arranged before the two had even been born and for that, Glorie would be eternally grateful. They'd gotten the chance to grow up together, to know the names of every skeleton the other had hidden in their closets before vowing to each other. A gift that not many are blessed with and they took full advantage of their time together, save having a child. It didn't seem as important to them in the moment. They were both the youngest of their houses, neither an heir to anything but the land they had and the life they led together.

✦Three years never felt like enough for Glorie, not when her future with Ryon was reduced to just that. She sat by his bedside for days when the illness struck. Cold compresses to his forehead for the fever and consulting with whomever had the best cures only kept him with her for a week. Her first taste of loss in the form of her true loves passing is the one that stays with her to this day.

✦ Return to the Dreadfort saw an unusually sympathetic father. The youngest Bolton had no need to carry her head in sorrow, 'you did everything right.' he assures her, hands cupped tightly around tear-stained cheeks. Its the one time he'd shown a sign of softness and sometimes when she feels her lowest, she can almost feel them there to comfort her as he did that day. His loss was among the most devastating to her, and learning of the true nature of his death has only cut into that wound deeper.

✦ The grief wouldn't stop at their father, though. When the news came of Mayara's passing, Glorie became numb. Gone was the animated personality she was barely clinging onto. Pessimism became second nature, as she felt that the people she loved most were being taken from her one by one.

✦There was little left for her to cling to until Domeric was named Lord. He took her under his wing, teaching her what it meant to be a ruler of a hold. The title of heir was hers, even if it might be taken by some curly-haired toddler one day. She had something to look forward to and her skills as mistress of coin were where her attentions were now focused. For a while things made sense and she was content, but she should have known better. The right cards always seemed a single draw away for Glorie and the revelation of Domerics parentage was just another wasted hand.

✦She can't remember seeing so much chaos. Whose side does one choose when a once tight-knit family is at war? She begs the now ruling Lord to take pity on her mentor. He's still their brother, bastard or not, but no one listens to the voice of woman within the walls of the Dreadfort. The only people to grant Glorie that privilege are either dead or marked for it and in a last ditch effort to save them, she helps Domeric and their mother escape.

✦Watching another take the deat that was meant for her creates turmoil, albeit one-sided. The main focus is rebuilding from the shame brought on by the lineage catastrophe, and she's certain that leaves her in a vulnerable position.

[mischievous-thunder]

When you meet someone so beautiful that you forget to utter proper coherent sentences

[lazylittledragon]

made a sticker for anyone to slap onto their work if they need to

[timetravelsong]

𝐈𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

excerpts from a book I’ll never write

[pookieace]

✰ . . . minors do not interact !

gojo and you fucking in missionary makes him dangerously sensitive as it is because he feels so much love as he looks down at you. how pretty you look, how a layer of sweats coats your skin. how your hair is a mess after multiple rounds. how you’re reaching out and grabbing at any part of his body for some form of stability while he fucks your cunt. he can see how you two are a mess where you both join, splatters of your wetness and white sticky remnants of his from previous rounds. you look so stunning. so so so beautiful.

he’s on the verge of cumming every second when you fuck missionary. he adores how he can see you flutter your eyes open and look so fucked out but still gaze at him with love. he gets even more sensitive the second you run your fingers through his undercut. he's groaning, hips faltering as he visibly shivers. feeling the pads of your fingers against his undercut is one thing but feeling your nails against them? that's another. three more thrusts and he's got his balls flushed against you, letting them drain, emptying them right into you.

[ribbittrobbit]

these kids are incredibly stressed out

[howlsnteeth]

24/05/2020

[matchamiko]

Teaching Dabi how to eat pussy the way you like it but he’s so desperately sloppy and messy about it that you just hump his face with one hand gripping his hair and the other tight on your own throat.

He’s inexperienced, mostly, he doesn’t give often if not at all to the partners he’s had in the past, few and far between; but then you came along and all of a sudden he’s offering and begging and demanding. He’s so used to seeing pussy eating in porn, in magazines that he’s got no rhythm, no method, no thought behind his guzzling and slurping and biting. So when you anchor yourself to him with a frustrated little whine, lifting your hips and grinding smoothly and sweetly against his tongue and his nose; Touya swears sees new colours and hears new sounds. The wet click of your cunt against his lips and chin, the shuddering of your thighs either side of his head, your mumbles and gasps against your constricted throat, and your encouraging praises of him just staying right there, just like that Touya. He cums loud and wet as he looks up at you through his lashes, half angry that you’re not teaching him like you said but half insane over the state of you, using him to your heart’s content.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[independent-fics]

Now, you can take that as a gift, or you can take it as a curse. And that's up to you.

Eliot Spencer and Parker Doing the Things Others Won’t

Leverage (2008-2012)

04x01 The Long Way Down Job

05x09 The Rundown Job

[choccy-milky]

how seb and clora get together in my fic 💕bc what better time and place to confess and share your first kiss than around a bunch of inferi + the dead body of a man you just killed?? 🥰💖

[tarabyte3]

Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.

It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.

It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.

We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

family tea party.

(in my mind, Radagon is the pure Order with no kindness half, and he always yearns to converge with Marika + be on equal footing with her, so in my drawing he’ll always be kinda nuts)

[bixels]

Posting a sneak-peak of this now because I'm about to be In The Shit school workload-wise, so this'll take me a while to finish.

Doing some character design exploration/expression sheets for Celestia and Luna. Figuring out Celestia's weird ass anatomy while I'm at it.