#I usually don’t draw character interactions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The Tumblr office adopted Tommy, an 11-year-old Pomeranian.

#I usually don’t draw character interactions

sntsnflwr · 8 months

Text

Ooooo you guys wanna give me qsmp requests and ooooooo then I’ll draw them ty ty

#qsmp #I wanna draw some guys I don’t usually!!#Maybe some head cannon stuff too!#And some character interactions :D

10 notes · View notes

yamujiburo · 2 months

Text

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

#hanamusa #hanamusashipping

2K notes · View notes

audreyscribes · 4 months

Text

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

💖 APHRODITE: Goddess of Love and Beauty 🕊

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you arrive at camp, you’re already got eyes following you. There’s something about you that draws people’s eyes to you. It could be your face, your hair, your eyes, your hands when they move, how you walk, how you move. So when you get claimed by Aphrodite, your fanfare is totally expected by others and unexpected when you get a magical makeover by your godly mother’s blessing. You’re dressed to the nines, your look done up perfectly like you're a movie star walking on the red carpet. People stare at you with awe and you can feel it.

The moment you are shown the Cabin, all you can think of is “Oh god it’s a god dang barbie mansion”; this may either fulfill your deepest childhood dream or your worst nightmare.

There’s gossip everywhere in the cabin. You’re hearing about people’s love lives, social interactions, and everything about the people in camp. Even if you’re not as romantically inclined yourself, you’re practically spoiled for choice for hearing about drama. There may be no TV or shows for you to watch, but this is the next best thing. It’s like the Kardashians, House Wives, and Golden Girls all the same.

Shipping. So much shipping. Shipping between campers in your cabin and outside the cabin. Shipping between movie stars to literal characters. Heck, even self-shipping is encouraged! It’s a shipper's galore.

The Aphrodite cabin likes to have fashion runs. A lot of the Aphrodite demigods become models and do a catwalk. But if you’re not that interested in being a model, there are still ways to participate.

If you like to design and make your own clothes, the Aphrodite cabin has your back. You have access to all types of fabrics, patterns, and materials you could need. You have no shortage of models for you to work with. If you’re interested in doing make-up, cosmetic or movie makeup, you have plenty of people to practise on. Even if children of Aphrodite have the ability to have permanent makeup and whatnot, it doesn’t mean you still can’t use your skills to be on fleek.

You know the meme where you see a woman putting eyeliner with the sword to make sure it's sharp? You see that way too often.

You're swiftly proven that functionality being sacrificed for fashion is a myth. It can be done and it has been done, but it's just some outweigh functionality with AESTHETICS

Stans. Stans everywhere. People don’t usually see the Aphrodite kids fight and break character unless it comes to their stan. If you haven’t seen them fight before, you do now. You’re still reeling from the BTS stans.

K-dramas. K-pop. Enough said.

You look at yourself as best as you could, it was both familiar yet foreign. It was like looking at the mirror, seeing yourself and all the positives of your body. Even if you had a negative view of yourself, it was gone and changed.

A girl stepped up, her black hair swaying, and you looked at her in awe as she smiled at you. “Hi! My name is Silena Beauregard, welcome to Cabin 10!”

“Oh hi” you said lamely, but before you could say anything further, you saw a large amount of pink in your vision. “Oh my god” you couldn’t help uttering as soon as your eyes laid on the Aphrodite cabin. It was pink in glory, and all you can think was that it was a true to god barbie house.

“Ah yeah,” said Selina, “Welcome to the Barbie house.”

“Wait it’s really called that?”

“Well, we really shouldn’t be calling it a Barbie house, but ... .I do admit it is pretty much a barbie house” Selina whispered in the last part.

You couldn’t help snicker and Selina gave you a knowing smile and wink, before she led you to the door.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be” you replied after taking a deep breath.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for every step of the way” she reassured and you smiled back. As soon the door opened, there was a waft of perfume. It wasn’t particularly strong or particularly bad, in fact it made you happy, but you could smell it anyways. There was a twinge of emotion that stirred up in you; it reminded you of smelling a perfume that reminded you of home and love…for some reason, you had a flash of a woman holding you to her chest and you burying your nose into her, your eyes closing with warmth.

“Hey everyone, let me introduce you to our new half-sibling!” introduced Selina, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. You raised your hand and waved, introducing yourself. That was all it took before the flood work came. Immediately, all the inhabitants in the cabin begun to interview you from where you were from, your favourite colour, your favourite colour, band, and etc-

Your head was absolutely swimming but as you all talked to each other, sharing your likes and dislikes, you had a feeling you were going to be alright.

434 notes · View notes

heraldofcrow · 2 months

Text

Honest “Favorite Character” Asks 🌿

I can’t find character asks that suit my type of discussion, so I made some. These are meant to be somewhat personal, therapeutic, and pensive.

Send someone one of their favorite characters along with any of the following questions.

—

1. Do you project onto this character?

2. Did you always like this character?

3. What first drew you to this character?

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

#now go attack your mutuals and their favs <3 #i just couldn’t find the type of asks that help process feels on the blorbos so i just made em #character asks #fandom asks #character ask game #ask game #fictional characters #blorbos #mutuals #fandom

297 notes · View notes

elliesbelle · 5 months

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 13

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of marijuana and descriptions of its usage, descriptions of anaphylactic shock, brief mention of needles, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of death, descriptions of jealousy, mentions of breakups, several flashback scenes, mentions of LSD and its usage, descriptions of acid tripping, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

songs featured in this chapter (including a surprise audio AND drawing commission in the middle of the fic):

the aaron taylor song “i think i love you again”

the carpenters song “merry christmas darling”

palestine will be free

“Where the fuck even are you?”

“Not home.”

“Well, no shit. I’m literally sitting on your living room couch, dumbass.”

“Get out of my apartment, weirdo.”

“Stop procrastinating, asshole.”

Ellie rolls her eyes as a couple of bright yellow leaves slowly dance down on the pavement from the nearby trees on her path home. One hand holds her phone up in front of her with Dina’s face front and center on the screen through FaceTime.

Having just dropped off a rather large order to a couple of stoner sophomores living on campus, Ellie’d decided to take the longer, more scenic route home instead of the usual way she’d go every day. She had a “date” lined up with Daniela in about an hour or so, a meeting she wasn’t particularly looking forward to being present for. Having no real enthusiasm to actually be on time to meet up with her, Ellie was purposely and leisurely delaying her return home to get ready.

Dina, busy lounging on the couch in Jesse and Ellie’s living room, busies herself by finishing a bland, microwaveable box of mac and cheese she’d found shoved in the back of the duo’s full freezer. She was casually killing time talking to Ellie through video chat while she waited for Jesse to finish getting ready for their movie date night.

Jesse enjoyed dragging Dina along to a movie theater in the neighbouring downtown area that showed old and foreign films. Back home in Jackson throughout their childhood, he and Ellie would make Dina sit through old sci-fi pictures, cult horror films, martial arts movies in a completely different language and with no subtitles. Dina would sit in the middle of the two in complete boredom as she listened to them psychoanalyzing background characters who had two lines and spending hours explaining their personal interpretations of a single camera angle in some inconsequential scene.

When they all began attending university, Jesse was over the moon upon discovering the nearby theater and the kind of films they would show. Dina complained every single time, but she secretly enjoyed these date nights regardless, always arguing with Jesse on the way home with her own analyses of the movie they’d just seen. She was a little less enthusiastic this time, however, upon hearing that the film they were about to go see was an early 2000s Bollywood movie that had a running time of nearly four hours.

Jesse had just gotten home from working out at the gym and was busy showering, and Dina decided to preoccupy herself in the meantime by thoroughly berating Ellie for her disinterest and voluntary tardiness for her “date” later that evening.

“El, I really don’t understand why you’re even bothering with her,” Dina says after a huge, wet slurp of her mac and cheese. “Leave that poor freshman girl alone. You really don’t even seem to like her that much.”

“She’s still got Joel’s jacket and I want it back.” Ellie shrugs nonchalantly.

“Maybe if you didn’t pass that shabby old thing around to every new girl you see for a month…” Dina replies, not bothering to mutter under her breath.

“Oh, leave me the fuck alone, Woodward,” Ellie says, chuckling. “Slutshamer.”

Jesse jaunts into the living room, jet black hair damp from the shower and fully dressed, and spots Ellie’s face on Dina’s tiny screen. He waltzes towards the couch and, without any warning, stealthily snatches Dina’s phone right out of her hand.

“Hey!” Dina protests indignantly, trying to reach for it back.

Jesse ignores her as Ellie laughs.

“Yo, what the fuck, Williams.” Jesse scolds the auburn-haired girl.

“Wassup, Chang.”

“What the hell did you ditch me and the gym for earlier? Today’s our cardio day.”

“Had a huge delivery I needed to make,” Ellie shrugs. “Wanted two 40 bags on top of a few lavender pre-rolls. And they lived on the opposite side of campus.”

“A likely excuse,” Jesse scoffs. “I think you’ve been harbouring a secret, years-long grudge against me and actually hate me for some reason.”

“Oh, it’s not a secret. I do hate you.”

“Dickhead.” Jesse chuckles as Dina heartily laughs behind him with a mouthful of mac and cheese.

Before Jesse can continue to berate his best friend, his own phone rings noisily from the inside of one of his jeans pockets.

“Oh, look. Someone who actually loves and appreciates me.” He says indignantly, handing small-scale Ellie back to Dina.

Ellie playfully rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that Jesse’s phone is currently buzzing and blaring with the personalized ringtone he’d set for your contact years ago shortly after you’d all met for the first time.

Dina, recognizing the familiar sound as well and noticing Ellie’s tight lips and rigid expression, quickly attempts to change the subject.

“So where exactly are you gonna be meeting up with the Daniela girl?” Dina quickly asks Ellie at the same time that Jesse booms, “Good evening once again to my absolute favourite person in the whole world!”

Ellie hesitantly begins to reply to Dina but cuts off almost immediately when she hears Jesse’s tone turn serious and mutter a name she’d come to despise.

“Oh. Hey, Anderson. What’s up?” Jesse says blankly. “Where’s—”

“Oh, shit.” Dina inadvertently murmurs as Ellie’s face immediately goes red with fury.

“Why the fuck is Anderson calling Jesse on her phone?” Ellie demands quietly of Dina.

“I mean… she is on a date with her tonight…” Dina reluctantly admits, knowing that lying to Ellie about your current whereabouts is pointless after figuring Jesse would eventually blab it to her anyway.

“Are you fucking serious?” Ellie seethes.

“I don’t really know why she’d be calling Jesse, though. That doesn’t make any sense...” Dina says, setting down her fork and turning her head back towards her boyfriend as Ellie watches intently him from the corner of Dina’s phone screen.

Both girls stare Jesse down as he intently listens to the other end of the line, the two getting more and more nervous as his face gets stonier as each second passes. When he finally speaks, his voice is grave and urgent.

“Is she breathing?”

“What?” Both Dina and Ellie simultaneously say in distress, which Jesse ignores.

“What did she eat?” He asks Abby.

“What’s going on?” Dina implores of him fearfully, sitting up straighter in her seat and completely abandoning her partially eaten mac and cheese on the coffee table.

Jesse holds up a pointer finger as an indication that he needs to keep listening as Ellie hushes her sternly, fiercely trying to eavesdrop on Jesse’s conversation.

“Okay. What did you eat?” Jesse questions.

The way Jesse’s face falls elicits a sharply drawn breath from Dina and drains all the colour from Ellie’s face.

“Did she have any?” He asks.

While Jesse listens for Abby’s lengthy response, Ellie quickly averts her eyes back to Dina.

“Dina.” She says hastily. “Where did Anderson take her tonight?”

“Orchards. It’s that fancy restaurant that’s like, right by here.”

“I know. They serve a lot of seafood there, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think Anderson ordered any?”

“El, how am I supposed to know that?”

“Well, does Anderson know that she’s deadly fucking allergic to shellfish? That she can’t even fucking touch that shit?”

Dina’s terrified face suddenly goes completely pale before she responds.

“I-I don’t know...”

“Does she have any pockets or some kind of bag with her?” They hear Jesse say. “See if she has her EpiPen in there.”

“E-El… I don’t think she does.” Dina stammers.” I helped her get dressed tonight and I saw her before she left, and I-I don’t think—”

Ellie nearly drops her phone on the pavement from how clammy her hands have become from complete fear. When she hears Jesse fiercely mutter a furious “fuck,” she immediately breaks into a sprint.

“Dina!” Ellie demands. “Give me back to Jesse! Now!” Dina hastily hands her phone to her petrified boyfriend without question as he quickly asks Abby to stay calm and give him a quick second.

“Jess!” Ellie breathlessly yells, not bothering to keep her voice down and without any concern for the fellow students she was alarming as she ran by. “Go to my room right now and search in the bottom drawer of my desk!!!”

Promptly and silently, Jesse darts in the direction of Ellie’s bedroom with Dina following closely behind him.

“There’s an old EpiPen of hers somewhere in there! I think it’s probably a couple of months expired now, but grab it anyway!”

Jesse and Dina unceremoniously bust into Ellie’s bedroom and follow her instructions precisely. After forcibly yanking open the bottom-most drawer of her computer desk, they begin to desperately rifle through it. After a few seconds of frantic ransacking through its miscellaneous contents, Jesse pulls out a thick, plastic cylindrical object with tiny lettering embellished all over the translucent plastic.

“Look for the little slot on the side of it that shows you some liquid-y shit inside!” Ellie presses him. “Is it still completely clear and clean, or is it all brown and murky?”

“It’s clear.” Jesse replies after quickly inspecting the EpiPen.

“Okay, go!” Ellie orders. “Dina’s gonna call 911 right now! Orchards is right around the corner from our place, so run! Inject the needle on the outside of her thigh! And check her pulse and see if she’s breathing, ‘cause you’ll need to do CPR if she isn’t! Paramedics probably won’t get there for another five minutes or so, so you just gotta keep doing chest compressions until they can get there!”

Jesse nods and immediately sprints out of the room after handing Dina her phone, placing his own back to his ear and quickly informing Abby that he’d be there shortly, firmly asking her to check your pulse.

Dina sets her eyes on Ellie, pure terror engraved on her face.

“Ellie, s-shouldn’t we grab the EpiPen she has now in her apartment? I think I know where it is, probably. Isn’t that safer than—”

“Her apartment is fifteen minutes away from that restaurant and Jesse can get there in two! We can’t waste any more time!” Ellie clarifies quickly. “Now, I need you to hang up right away and call 911 and explain everything that’s just happened! Go!”

Ellie doesn’t bother waiting for Dina to end the call and roughly taps on the red button herself.

She shoves her phone into the pocket of her hoodie and quickens her pace.

Her lungs winded and her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she couldn't seem to care any less about her own breathing at that very moment. She trusts nothing else but her own feet to get her exactly where she desperately needs to be. She sees nothing and no one else but the pavement directly in front of her, cutting across the university’s campus through the fastest route she can think of in the moment.

Despite never having been a religious person in any way, Ellie begins to plead a desperate prayer in her mind to whatever god or deity that could possibly exist that you were still breathing somehow and that Jesse had found you and gotten there in time.

She takes a moment to pull her phone out and check how long it’s been since she ended the FaceTime call with Dina, seeing that a little less than five minutes had just passed. She considers calling her once more for any updates; but not wanting to risk being a possible distraction in case Dina is needed in the moment, she ultimately decides against doing so and instead wills her feet to move faster.

Unwelcome thoughts begin to involuntarily flood Ellie’s mind as she sprints.

She thinks of the last time you’d seen each other: that night of your heart-to-heart dinner with Jesse at Sterling’s. It felt almost fated for her and Dina to walk into the same restaurant at the same time that the two of you had been meeting. Ellie recalls the identical look of dismay on both of your faces, equally overwhelmed at the sight of one another. She can still feel the angry yet doleful tears that fell down her red cheeks as she stormed away from the diner, threatening to expose endless repressed feelings of remorse and heartache.

She remembers the day she saw your sudden reunion with Abby Anderson, you dressed in that beautiful floral sundress and very obviously flirting with the tall, muscular blonde. Her nails were so angrily digging into her palms at the sight of you two that she can still feel the phantom marks that had nearly drawn blood. She’d nearly frightened Dina, who was lounging on the living room couch with a joint in hand, when she busted into her and Jesse’s apartment with immediate choice words that were aroused by her unbridled anger.

She recalls the last time you’d actually spoken to one other directly after that miserable, unfortunate night of the Sigma Eta party, how taken aback she was at how you were still so undeniably beautiful underneath the pale moonlight. Having been sitting on the hood of her Jeep while she watched in amusement at your futile attempts to keep yourself warm, she thinks of the way your eyes were furiously and desperately trying to avoid her piercing ocean green gaze. The memory of the angry, fleeting look you’d given Daniela when you’d obviously noticed Joel’s old motorcycle jacket resting on her shoulders is one she can never forget; nor could she the air of raw, bitter indignation that radiated off you at the sight of one of your signature lavender joints nestled in between Daniela’s lips.

She can still feel the visceral rage that sparked inside her from Frat Guy Adam’s casual cruelty towards you, followed by feelings of heartbreak at watching the way your face had fallen at his words. The sheer remorse from pathetically having done nothing right when it happened still weighs on her. Ellie can never forget the simultaneous feelings of shame and comfort she’d felt after your heated encounter with her in the bathroom of Sterling’s: shame from being forcibly confronted with a reminder of the deepest regret of her whole life; and comfort at finally being able to see with her own ocean green eyes, after so long, the face of a person she once adored more than she did anyone else in the world.

Maybe even still.

Ellie eventually finds herself at the intersection right where her shared apartment with Jesse is located. Her hasty pursuit is frustratingly impeded when she’s stopped by the angry, glowing red hand at the crosswalk she needs to get past to reach Orchards, cars endlessly coming one after the other. For a few moments, she’s at least able to catch a much-needed, painful breath.

While she bounces up and down on her feet in impatience, very seriously contemplating running across anyway and risking being hit by a speeding car, Ellie thinks of one thing and one thing only: the first moment her eyes met yours all those years ago. The moment when she knew, deep down and instinctively, that everything had changed.

She’s brutally broken out of her brief reverie by the blaring of sirens booming from around the corner. Her head immediately shoots towards the sound and she watches as two ambulances with flashing red and white lights speed down the road and towards what she believes is the direction of the nearest emergency room.

Ellie wastes no time bolting down the crosswalk the millisecond that the orange pedestrian signal finally blinks to white, sprinting down the street of Orchards. She’s somehow able to spot Dina’s figure in the middle of a small crowd of people gathered next to the restaurant and immediately sprints towards her. By the time Ellie is able to reach her, most of the unfamiliar bystanders have dispersed with whispers. Her heart races as she sees Dina’s cheeks wet and dripping endlessly with tears.

“Dina!” Ellie huffs, using the last of her breath and energy to dash to her side.

“Ellie!” Dina sighs in relief upon spotting her friend.

They envelop each other in a tight embrace, Dina hiccuping slightly into Ellie’s shoulder.

“What happened? Did you guys make it in time? Is she okay? Where is she? Where’s Jesse?” Ellie rambles.

“Sh-she’s okay, I think,” Dina stammers. “She was breathing when Jesse got here, but her pulse was really slow. The paramedics got here a few minutes after Jesse did.”

She sloppily wipes her eyes with the back of her hands before continuing.

“They said that the EpiPen probably saved her life, said that she would have had a lot less of a chance if we had just waited for them to arrive. Expired EpiPen was apparently better than nothing, as long as it wasn’t too far off from when it did expire.”

Ellie takes a relieved breath in at hearing this.

“Thank god. Thank fucking god. That’s what I thought, but I-I honestly wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember clearly in the moment.”

“How did you even know that?” Dina asks her in genuine curiosity.

“I-I… wh-when we were, you know, t-together…” Ellie mutters awkwardly. “I made sure to know, j-just in case.”

“Oh, Ellie…”

Ellie wrings her hands together and clears her throat in embarrassment.

“So where’s Jess? Where’s Anderson?” She asks, changing the subject and voice dripping in disdain at the last word.

“Jesse rode in the ambulance with her and the paramedics, and Abby said that she’d follow behind in her car,” Dina replies. “I stayed behind ‘cause I figured you were on your way and I wanted to be able to tell you what happened in person.”

“Thank you, D, seriously.”

Dina stares at Ellie earnestly for a moment.

“You really do still love her.” Dina says, not as a question but as a statement.

Ellie doesn’t respond to this remark, her lips tight and her ocean green eyes unreadable.

“Come on. Let’s go see her.”

You had been brought to St. Peter’s Hospital, the closest one located to your university. When Ellie and Dina had gotten there, they found Jesse sitting alone in the mostly empty waiting room. He was staring up at the dreary off-white ceiling, his left leg nervously bouncing up and down as one of his hands gripped his right knee. When he spots the two girls enter the room, he immediately jumps out of his seat to meet them. He pulls his girlfriend into a tight embrace and gives her a tender kiss on the forehead, and then he places a firm and reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“How is she?” Ellie asks nervously.

“Unconcious still, but she’s alive,” Jesse replies somberly. “The paramedics in the ambulance told me that they were pumping her full of adrenaline; and so now, they’re either still doing that or they’re just trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Apparently, her tongue was so swollen and her throat closed up completely, so they’ve got to reopen her airways ‘cause she’s having a hard time breathing.”

“Oh, god…” Dina chokes out.

“Don’t worry, D.” Jesse consoles. “She’s gonna be fine. She’s strong, and we know that. They’re taking care of her, and she’ll hopefully be awake soon.”

“I know, I know…” Dina sniffles. “It’s really not like me to fall apart like this. But she’s like a sister to me, you know. I mean, she basically is.”

“Me too, babe. Don’t worry. We all love her too. No need to explain.” Jesse says.

Dina gives him a soft smile as he gives her another tender forehead kiss. Watching such a small but affectionate scene between the two makes Ellie feel as if she’s intruding on a private moment she shouldn’t be witnessing. Jealousy in the form of a knife in the stomach twists inside her while her heart aches to feel that kind of intimacy.

“Oh, shit, I should call her uncle,” Dina suddenly realizes, pulling away from Jesse slightly. “I think I still have his number from freshman year. He should know what’s going on.”

“Good idea.” Jesse agrees. “He’s one of her emergency contacts, but I’m not sure if he knows just yet.”

“I’ll call the girls too,” She continues, referring to the other girls who lived in the Wilson Valley building with you and Dina during your freshman year. “I know that they’ll also want to know.”

She pulls her phone out of her pocket before muttering a quick “be right back” and exiting the waiting room.

Jesse and Ellie watch her walk out silently. After a moment or two, Jesse speaks up.

“Are you okay, El?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, man. Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

“I’m fine, Jess.”

“Dude.”

“What?”

Jesse turns his whole body to face Ellie straight on, crossing his arms against his chest and frowning.

“You’re completely red in the face, you look the most stressed out than I’ve ever seen you, and you’re here.”

“So?” Ellie replies stubbornly.

“Williams.” Jesse stresses sternly. “You know Dina and I saw everything you had in that desk drawer.”

Ellie says nothing in reply and Jesse continues.

“You literally still had her old EpiPen from like, two years ago. That entire drawer was full of her shit.”

Ellie clenches her jaw and balls up her fists.

“You still have all those old letters she used to write you all the time, all these mementos and knickknacks from when you two were together. You even have Barbie Bear.” Jesse points out. “Do you know that she’s been chewing Dina out nonstop about her for years because she thinks Dina stole her?”

“Look, she and I just stopped talking to each other all of a sudden before sophomore year. I never had an actual chance to give her all of her shit back—”

“You literally could have given them to me or Dina or even any of the Wilson girls so we could return them.”

“Look—”

“And what about the rest of it? Shit that you didn’t have to actually give back to her? It’s been years. You could have easily thrown it all out.”

“You don’t understa—”

“You didn’t even bother leaving all that shit back home in Jackson. You brought it all here with you to keep in our apartment.”

“I… I—”

“She could have fucking died tonight, El. And you’re still bullshitting me.”

“Jesse.” Ellie croaks out through quivering lips and watery eyes.

“You saved her life. She could have very well been in a worse state right now if it weren’t for you. You told me and Dina what to do. Nobody told you to do any of that. And by the sorry state of you, it looks like you just ran three marathons in a row just to get here and make sure she was okay in person.”

Tears threaten to flow down from Ellie’s ocean green eyes, and it takes every ounce of strength that she has left in her to will them not to fall.

“She means so, so much to me and Dina. And to a whole bunch of other people too. When she gets hurt, we feel that shit too.” Jesse says. “I need you to get your motherfucking shit together, Williams. Now.”

Before Ellie can even form some kind of thought in response to his declaration, Dina suddenly reenters the waiting room.

“Called her uncle and told him everything I know. He’s currently looking up the first flight out and he’ll hopefully be here sometime tomorrow.” Dina informs the pair as she walks over. “Just got off the phone with Astrid too. Most of the girls are either busy or asleep by now, but she said she’ll let them know too as soon as possible. If she’s awake tomorrow, they’ll try to come by to pay her a visit.”

“Okay, good.” Jesse nods in response. “Thanks for doing that, D. I was so focused on what’s been going on, and none of that even crossed my mind.”

“They deserved to know.” Dina smiles sadly before suddenly frowning. “But why did she even go into anaphylactic shock in the first place? They both asked me, but I realized that you never actually told either of us and I didn’t really know what to tell them.”

“She and Anderson were making out, and Anderson had eaten some seafood bouillabaisse for dinner. Apparently, it had a bunch of chopped-up shrimp in it that she couldn’t see.” Jesse says plainly.

Dina inadvertently glances at Ellie in slight sympathy, but Jesse looks at her with zero remorse on his face.

“She didn’t tell Abby that she was really allergic?” Dina asks.

“Anderson apparently had no idea, said that she wouldn’t have ordered it if she knew in the first place.” Jesse clarified.

“Anderson should have fucking double-checked re-fucking-gardless.” Ellie angrily interjects.

“It’s not Abby’s fault, Ellie. There’s no way she could have just known instinctively.” Dina reasons.

“Doesn’t matter. Isn’t she studying to be a fucking doctor? Isn’t that some basic shit that they teach at med school or whatever? She should have known better.” Ellie seethes. “Where the fuck is she, anyway? I thought she came along.”

“She went down to the food court for a breather.” Jesse says.

“Oh, she needs a breather?” Ellie sneers. “Yeah, go ahead and catch your breath when the person you almost killed tonight can’t even fucking breathe—”

“Ellie!” Dina scolds.

“Whatever.” Ellie scoffs.

“El,” Dina suddenly brings up. “Have you talked to Daniela yet?”

“What about her?” Ellie asks.

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with her…” Dina checks the time on her phone. “... almost an hour ago?”

“So?”

“Ellie.”

Ellie clicks her tongue.

“Fine, let me text her right now that I won’t make it—” She begins to say begrudgingly, but she cuts herself off as someone else enters the waiting room.

Abby Anderson quietly walks through the door, sipping a plain black coffee from a styrofoam cup. She looks up from her drink and gives Jesse an awkward but polite smile which he respectfully returns along with a nod.

Ellie’s entire body goes cold with frigid, icy hatred, exacerbated when her furious ocean green eyes suddenly meet with Abby Anderson’s tired sky blue ones.

“Actually,” Ellie suddenly says. “I’m gonna give her a call and see if she’s still free to meet up tonight. I still want my jacket back.”

Both Dina and Jesse look as if they’re each about to interject with a response, but Ellie is too quick for either of them to say a word.

Ellie storms out of the waiting room, not giving a second look at Abby Anderson.

Ellie throws Joel’s old leather jacket onto her bed, sighing softly. She sheds her sweaty grey hoodie and throws it down next to the jacket before pulling her phone out. She proceeds to call Jesse, but she’s greeted with ten, empty-sounding buzzes before being redirected to his voicemail. She then attempts to call Dina but is greeted with an immediate automated message stating that the call could not be completed.

Groaning in exasperation, Ellie collapses into her desk chair and roughly kicks off her Converse. After a moment or two, she notices the bottom-most drawer of her desk and the way it’s hanging off the frame precariously. Sighing, she crouches down on the floor and begins to rearrange its previous contents.

At first, she shoves items back into the drawer at random, but she immediately pauses once her hand grazes across the fur of a pink stuffed animal.

Barbie Bear.

She picks up the stuffed animal and stares sadly into its plastic eyes. Noticing that the light pink ribbon around its neck has gotten loose, Ellie delicately attempts to retie it back into a bow. After a couple of lopsided tries, she’s eventually satisfied once she’s able to center the ribbon correctly. She carefully places Barbie Bear back into the drawer before returning to restore its contents with more consideration.

After replacing a few pairs of old earrings of yours into a small box, she picks up a stack of old letters that she’d tied together with a piece of brown twine. Ellie resists the urge to go through each of them, but when she notices that one had fallen out of the stack and is now lying on the floor, her willpower dwindles almost instantly.

Ellie picks up the envelope gingerly, almost as if she’s afraid that her touch will cause it to burst into flames. She reads her name on the front written with green ink and flips it over to where the flap of the envelope is torn open. She runs her fingers over the wax seal that had secured the letter inside: the design of Saturn amongst several stars. Nervously, she slips the card out from inside and unfolds it to reveal your handwriting.

Dear Ellie,

It is currently 4:27 A.M. and I can’t sleep, and for some reason, I can’t stop watching that story you posted on Instagram earlier over and over. The one of you singing and playing your electric guitar to that Aaron Taylor song. Not to be gay as fuck, but it is so easy to get lost in the sound of your voice. Also, I really like your lips. And your hands.

I know I said this yesterday already, but you’ve been overworking yourself way too much lately. I’m glad that you’ve been putting a lot of effort into your schoolwork, but have you eaten? When was the last time you had a full meal (microwaveable ramen does not count)? Have you been taking any time for yourself? It’s really sweet that you still make time to come hang out with me most days, but you need some you time too, you know.

Not that I don’t love seeing your goofy face all the time. I don’t know, I think me writing all that out is me casually acknowledging that I have attachment issues and attempting to work on it. Oh, well. I’m pretty attached to you, fucking dork.

Okay, heading to bed now. Hopefully, I’ll actually be able to fall asleep this time. But hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow (I know I just said that you need to take more time for yourself, but shut up). You’re always the best part of my day.

Ellie can’t seem to let herself read the final piece of the letter, the part where you’d signed your name.

She delicately folds the card once more and places it back into its envelope. Turning it over in her hand and tenderly running her fingers over where you’d addressed her name, she wonders if your handwriting is still the same as it was all those years ago.

Reluctantly, Ellie tucks the letter back into the stack before tying them all securely together once more.

Earlier That Evening

Ellie was fifty-two minutes late to her supposed “date” with Daniela. This was Ellie’s third failed attempt at reacquiring Joel’s old motorcycle jacket, and they had previously decided to meet up outside the coffee shop on campus where Daniela recently started working after the end of her shift.

But after Ellie’s unexplained absence from their meeting, Daniela bitterly stormed back home to her dorm. She had half a mind to say no when Ellie called her with a half-assed explanation and asked if she could come over to retrieve her jacket. But after giving in, Ellie arrived at her dorm room within half an hour.

It wasn’t a total shock to Ellie when she was greeted with a look of annoyance when Daniela opened the door for her. Ellie attempted to feign a guilty expression, but all that she could muster was an indifferent grimace. Daniela said nothing as she silently beckoned Ellie to follow her and come in, an AirPod playing music loudly in one ear.

Ellie took a quick glance around the place, never having actually been inside Daniela’s room before. The twin-size beds, old wooden dressers, and scuffed-up desks were an all-too-familiar sight for Ellie, having gone through the same torturous experience herself only a couple of years back in her freshman year. But a few things were different as Daniela and her roommate had attempted to really personalize their living area. Ellie tried not to make a face of repulsion when spotting a few Taylor Swift concert posters above one of the desks.

Daniela plopped onto, what Ellie had assumed was, her bed but made no gesture that welcomed Ellie to do the same. She merely stared at her passively as Ellie tried to avoid looking her directly in the eye.

“You’re an hour late.” Daniela pointed out.

“Only fifty-two minutes late.” Ellie attempted to joke.

Daniela only hummed in response, unsmiling. She picked up a faded brown jacket that was sitting on top of her pillow by the collar and handed it over to Ellie.

“Thanks,” Ellie muttered, tucking the jacket under her arm. “Uh, thanks a lot for looking after it. Needed it back ‘cause it’s really my dad’s old jacket.”

“Oh, sorry. I would have given it back sooner if I knew that.” Daniela replied, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“It’s okay.” Ellie mumbled awkwardly.

There was an uncomfortable moment or two of complete silence where Daniela continued to merely gaze at Ellie, unwavering and unapologetic, while Ellie focused her eyes on her Converse as she wrung her hands together.

“Hey, look…” Ellie eventually spoke up. “I really am sorry about being late. I just had a really important emergency that I had to deal with.”

“It’s fine,” Daniela replied remorselessly. “Tara told me that you suddenly had to deal with some shit.”

“Wait, what?”

“Tara. Tara Maclay. She works with me at Ruston.”

“Oh, right.”

Another awkward moment of silence.

“Your ex-girlfriend, right?” Daniela asks unexpectedly.

“What?”

“Your ex-girlfriend. The shit you had to deal with tonight.”

“Oh, uh…”

“No point in lying, Ellie.” Daniela shrugged. “Tara already told me the gist.”

“Oh. What did she say exactly?”

“Not much. Said that you needed to help deal with something for someone you both know. She didn’t tell me exactly that it was your ex-girlfriend, but it was pretty obvious. I read between the lines.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“She really shouldn’t have told you all that.”

“She was ranting to another co-worker and I overheard your name and I was curious.” Daniela shrugged again, unabashed.

Another awkward moment of silence.

“So you still into your ex or something, Ellie?” Daniela spoke up again.

“She’s not really my ex-girlfriend.”

“Whatever.”

Another awkward moment of silence.

“Well?” Daniela asked.

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“That’s just the bullshit way of saying yes,” Daniela rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter if she’s your ‘ex’ or whatever.”

“Look, Daniela—”

“I know we aren’t serious or whatever, but I don’t really feel like dealing with someone else’s ex drama.”

“There’s no drama. I don’t even speak to her anymore.”

“And yet you ditched me to go and help her out with something earlier.”

“It’s not like that. And it was also an emergency.”

“So you said.”

Ellie wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself to a girl she barely knew. Part of her felt compelled to do so as if she could continue to actively ignore her feelings by saying these things out loud.

Another awkward moment of silence.

“God, you’re such an asshole fuckboy, Ellie.”

“Hey, what the fuck—”

“You know that you can get girls and do, but you just like to fuck around with them and play with their feelings.”

“Alright, first of all, you said yourself that we’re nothing serious. We’ve barely even done anything.” Ellie said defensively. “Second, I literally just said that I don’t even talk to her anymore! Not even tonight!”

Ellie scoffed as Daniela rolled her eyes once more.

“Look,” Ellie continued through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry that I was late tonight. And I get it if your feelings are hurt. But nothing’s happening between me and my ex.”

“You just said that she wasn’t your ex.”

“Sh-she’s— she’s not, she’s—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniela muttered as stood up from her bed. “At this point, I’m over it, and I really don’t give a fuck anymore. You’re hot and all, Ellie. But this is not worth it.”

She popped an AirPod in her ear once more and sauntered over to the door.

“Word of advice. Figure out your feelings for this ‘ex’ of yours and decide if you actually wanna be with her or not before getting involved with anyone else. Nobody deserves that hanging over their head, especially when you’re so clearly still in love with her.”

And with that, Daniela opened the door and peered at her expectantly. Ellie took the hint and walked towards her direction and through the doorway. Before Ellie could fully turn around and give any parting words, Daniela shut the door in her face.

Present

Ellie collapses onto her bed next to Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. She pulls her phone out again, contemplating calling Jesse and Dina once more. But realizing they’ll probably call her if they have anything important that they feel she needs to know, she drops the phone down to her side in defeat.

She continues to lay in her bed for a while, stewing in her unresolved feelings with nobody to confide in. Closing her eyes, her mind begins to race against her will with reminders of the path life led her down after you.

First was Marisol. Less than two months into sophomore year of college, Jesse and Dina were completely aghast to see Ellie walking around campus with a girl they’d never seen her with before. She was in Ellie’s Aerospace Engineering class, and Ellie had claimed to have had an eye on her since last year. Jesse and Dina watched helplessly as their friend flaunted her new girlfriend around everywhere for the next couple of months.

Ellie wasn’t initially sure what it was that attracted her to Marisol in the first place. She was naturally beautiful with her long, black hair and slender figure, and she was the textbook definition of a perfect girlfriend. It took two and a half months of overly extravagant dates and bouquets of Marisol’s favourite flowers and late nights spent at her dorm room for Ellie to understand what it was about Marisol that she was drawn to: it was her eyes. Down to the specks in her irises and how her eyelids curved, Marisol’s eyes resembled yours far too well. After coming to this harrowing realization, Ellie quickly broke things off with her tactlessly and with a half-assed, mostly untrue justification.

The next was Luz who she had met during her near-daily workouts at the gym with Jesse. Ellie spent several autumn weeks with them, allowing Luz to whisk her about to different parties with different groups of friends every weekend. But one fateful night when they had dragged Ellie to a party at the same Sigma Eta frat house where you’d both first met, a bad acid trip cemented the end of her time with Luz.

As Ellie’s dilated pupils focused intensely on Luz’s black boots, a pair very similar to your favourites, she felt a sensation begin to roughly tug at something inside her. From her spot on the living room couch, her eyes darted up to a spot by the wall where a small group of partygoers were congregating. She zeroed in on a random girl she’d never seen before whose multi-coloured features, as a result of LSD brain fog, began to morph into those of someone she was desperately trying to forget.

Once the last parts of the stranger’s face had fully formed to impersonate yours, she abruptly stood up from her slouched position on the couch, muttered an excuse to Luz about using the bathroom, and desperately begged Jesse to come pick her up immediately. After Jesse helped her click on her seatbelt in the passenger seat with a tight-lipped expression where he fought the urge to remind her of the significance of this house, Ellie never looked back and swore never to trip on acid again, subsequently ghosting Luz after that night.

A couple of weeks before winter break, she met a sweet and quiet girl named Simi. They met through a dating app during one of Ellie’s crossfaded swiping sprees at 2 in the morning. Ellie’s affair with her was extremely short-lived, ending things with her a day before everyone left campus to head home for the holidays. While spending the day hanging out at Simi’s dorm room as her new girlfriend packed for her trip home, Ellie suddenly and unfairly started a fight with her after Simi had begun to mindlessly sing the song “Merry Christmas Darling” under her breath.

Ellie had unkindly demanded for her to “shut up” immediately, understandably hurting Simi’s feelings. The fight was short and confusing, as Ellie had refused to elaborate on her sudden explosion. As she unceremoniously marched out of the dorm room, Ellie aggressively tried to suppress memories of you singing that same Carpenters song on a loop all of December of the previous year. You’d claimed you couldn’t get it out of your head and needed to sing it out loud at least fifty times a day so you could stop thinking about it. Though Ellie had playfully cussed you out and thrown several pillows at you on multiple occasions, that song now belonged to you forever and nobody else.

After Simi were strings of countless others, some who had used Ellie as their brief college lesbian experience and many whose names Ellie would never be able to recall. She never hooked up with the same person more than twice, never actually took another one out for an actual date until Daniela.

Ellie had found Daniela incredibly pretty when she’d first laid eyes on her on a warm September afternoon earlier in the year. She was lounging on the quad as Dina did her homework and Jesse lazily strummed his guitar when a group of freshmen walked by. Ellie hadn’t spared them a glance until one of the girls approached her, all shy and giggly, and said that one of her friends found Ellie very cute. After pointing Daniela out and asking for her number, Ellie shrugged and relented. She ignored Dina and Jesse’s identical judgmental looks and eye-rolls in her peripheral vision.

Ellie enjoyed the undivided attention of someone completely enamoured by her. Daniela was constantly responsive, did whatever Ellie wanted to do, and was always so eager to please her. Ellie’d bring her to the movies, go on long drives with her in her Jeep, take her to whatever restaurants she’d want to eat at.

To anyone who keenly observed when they were together, it was quite obvious who was far more invested between the two. Despite spending an ample amount of time with her in the past month or so, Ellie continued to keep Daniela at arm’s length. On multiple occasions when Ellie’d convinced Jesse and Dina to allow Daniela to accompany them, the long-time couple would watch how disconnected their friend was from this new girl she’d been seeing.

Dina would constantly give Jesse a raised eyebrow look that silently would ask, “Is she really serious?” to which Jesse would give her a tight-lipped, wordless grimace that replied with “We both know she’s a fucking dumbass.” They both placed bets on when exactly Ellie would eventually ditch this new girlfriend.

Unbeknownst to them, it’s Ellie who was so easily discarded this time around. Feeling so unmoved and unaffected about the split with Daniela, Ellie tries to feel some kind of guilt over her lack of reciprocation. It’s her own actions, after all, that landed her dumped in the first place. She’s never fully seen Daniela as an actual girlfriend, and she knows full well that she shouldn’t have strung her along.

But as she continues to lay in her bed, ocean green eyes shut and a hand woven through her auburn locks, she thinks of only you.

Ellie can’t remember a single moment in her life when she’s felt more in need of another person’s company than she does at this very moment. Unable to trouble Dina to be her listening ear as she always is or bother Jesse to bluntly set her straight as usual, she feels the loneliness of the gloomy, dark room creep into her guilty conscience.

Her fingers begin to mindlessly search her bedsheets as she continues to stare at her decrepit bedroom ceiling, seeking for her silver joint box that had fallen out of her pocket when she’d collapsed on her bed. Instead of the feel of cold metal, her hand comes across something smooth and warm. Pulling the brown leather jacket up to her face, Ellie’s mind murmurs a single word.

Joel.

She pulls her phone out to search for her father’s face within her favourite contacts. She hesitates for a moment but pushes herself to call.

Joel picks up after only two rings.

“Ellie? Jesus, kiddo, what the hell time is it?”

“Hello to you too, old man.” Ellie chuckles.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel’s voice asks, tired but urgent.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

Ellie can almost hear her father sitting up straight in bed.

“What’s wrong, Ellie?”

“I-I…” She stutters. “Joel…”

With a whimpering tone, she suddenly recounts the night’s events in complete detail. Joel listens attentively, only ever interrupting with sharp intakes of breath and hushed, imperceptible asides. After listening to his daughter’s sorrowful spiel, he finally speaks.

“Oh, baby girl…” Joel utters. “I truly am sorry. It’s been a real rough night for all of y’all.”

“Yeah…”

“That poor kid… I’m glad she had you three lookin’ out for her tonight.”

Ellie says nothing to this, pursing her lips.

“How about you, Ellie?” Joel continues. “How are you feelin’ after everythin’ that’s happened?”

“I-I’m not really sure. I’m not sure I know how to feel.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to just yet. It just happened and all.”

“All I feel is so much fucking guilt, Joel. It feels like my mind is empty but overflowing all at the same time. I feel so motherfucking powerless and I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a moment of silence before her father speaks again.

“You given any thought to the conversation we had before you left for school, kiddo?”

Last August: Jackson

Ellie’s bedroom was full of boxes and bags packed with everything she planned to bring to college for her junior year. The space was slightly more barren, closet mostly empty and trinkets missing from her shelves. It was only a couple more days before she, Dina, and Jesse would be making their journey back to their university, and she was uncharacteristically ahead of schedule.

Leaning against her desk with a box full of comic books on the floor next to her, she was casually perusing an old graphic novel when Joel appeared in her open doorway.

“Knock, knock.”

“The door’s open, old man. Also, you can literally just walk in, you know.”

“Who raised you to have so much cheek against your elders, kid?”

“You, dude.”

The pair smirked at each other’s smart-mouthed retorts.

“Need any help packin’ up?”

“Nah. It’s pretty much done except for a handful of essentials.”

“Including that book you’re holdin’ right now?”

“Like I said: essentials.”

Joel chuckled.

“Well, the Changs sent over some dinner for us, if you want some. Wisa made K-kaw… Khao Tom Pa… no, Plah…” Joel stuttered, making an effort to pronounce the Thai dish correctly. “Khao Tom Plah, that’s it. She brought some over earlier, thought we might want some. She even made it without the prawns, just the way you like it.”

“Sick. She’s the best. I’ll text Jesse later to thank her.”

“Good.”

Joel lingered as Ellie went back to reading her comic, wistfully looking around his daughter’s nearly vacated bedroom. His eyes fell on a small box sitting at the foot of Ellie’s bed. It was an ordinary, cardboard box just as the others were, except it was heavily sealed with multiple layers of silver duct tape. He frowned.

“Still plannin’ on bringin’ that box?”

“What do you mean?” Ellie asked, knowing exactly what her father was referring to without looking up.

“You know you can just leave it here at home, right? It ain’t like I go through your doohickeys when you ain’t here.”

“So you do go through my shit when I am here?”

“Ellie.”

“What?”

“Why the hell are you doing this to yourself, kid?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We’ve been having this same conversation for the past year now.”

Ellie finally peeled her eyes away from her graphic novel, tossing it on the desk behind her and crossing her arms.

“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up, Joel.”

“I bring it up because I know that you ain’t been talkin’ about these feelings with anyone. Not me or Jesse or Dina. It’s been a year since you ditched that poor girl, and you’re still sulkin’ over it.”

“She ditched me.”

“Hold your horses; we both know that ain’t true.”

“What do you want from me, old man?”

“I want you to be happy, kiddo.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?”

“Now, don’t try to bullshit me. You can grumble and deny it ‘til the cows come home, but even after all this time, all you ever do is brood and pine after that girl. Plain as day to anyone. You ain’t been the same since y’all broke up.”

“We weren’t together.”

“Yes, you were.”

Joel ignored his daughter’s subsequent eye-roll before continuing.

“You still have the box, Ellie.”

“I just forgot I even had it.”

“And yet, you’re bringin’ it to school with you, just like you did last year. Why?”

“It was just in my closet stuffed in with all this other shit I don’t touch. Had to take it out while I was packing.”

“That ain’t amount to a hill o’ beans. And you still ain’t answer my question.”

“Sorry, dude.”

“Ellie. You and I would down to Beacon Run all the damn time back when you were growin’ up. You used to beg me to go for dinner whenever you had a hankerin’ to order that cheesy crab dip with all those chips and jalapeños and such.”

Ellie raised her eyebrow, unsure where her father was going with this.

“Then all of a sudden, a few years ago, you seemed to hate the place. You’ll maybe get a plate of fries and nothin’ else. Matter of fact, I can’t, for the life of me, recall the last time I’ve seen you eat a plate of seafood with any kind of shellfish in it.”

Joel’s greying eyes pierced Ellie’s ocean green.

“Two years.” He continued. “It’s been two years. You almost never eat any kind of seafood no more, and even the Changs never cook us anythin’ that has shrimps or scallops or anythin’ of the like.”

Joel watched as his daughter stubbornly struggled to justify herself. He sighed sadly.

“I wish you’d let yourself be happy, Ellie. You could be.”

“That so? How do you figure that?”

“First step is admitting exactly what is clear as day to everyone around you.”

“Oh, yeah? And what is that?”

Present Day

“J-Joel… I-I…” Ellie sobs. “I love her.”

“I know, baby girl.”

Joel helplessly listens to his daughter’s desperate weeping from the other end of the line.

“So,” He eventually asks in between her snivels. “What now?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She sniffs.

“Kiddo, why do you think your feelings don’t matter?”

“Because relationships do not work for me. Love doesn’t work for me.”

“Your relationship with her didn’t work. Past tense. It’s been years. It was a tough situation. You’re a different person now.” Joel clarifies. “And there’s plenty love ‘round you, kiddo. You got a lotta love in your life. I need you t’realize that.”

“Except I-I’m not a different person, Joel. I-I am just an older, slightly more experienced version of myself. I-I…” Ellie stutters. “I’m afraid.”

“Of course you are, kid. It’s only natural.” Joel replies. “But you can’t live your whole life closed off from the rest of the world. You need and deserve love, Ellie.”

“Except I don’t, Joel! I fucking don’t!” She cries. “God, y-you just, you just don’t understand!”

“What don’t I understand?”

“She almost fucking died!” Ellie nearly screams.

A silence falls between the two, only broken by Ellie’s hot and angry tears noisily dropping onto the old leather jacket. She grips it tightly in one hand before continuing.

“I-if… if none of it happened… if I d-didn’t do all that to h-her all those years ago…” She stutters between shaky lips. “M-maybe she wouldn’t be where she is now. She wouldn’t have gone on a date w-with someone who didn’t know about…”

Ellie chokes back a sob.

“I-I… I would have known. I would have t-taken care of her. I would never have—”

“Ellie.”

“She needed me, and I… I let her down. Not just tonight. All those years ago. I couldn’t be what she needed. I fucking failed her.”

“It’s not that simple, kid.”

“Yes, it is! Her cousin fucking died! He was her whole fucking world, and she loved him more than anything, and he fucking died and I… I ran. I abandoned her.”

The blurry memory of your sleeping figure in the passenger seat of Ellie’s Jeep appears in front of her, wrapped up cozily in her flannel as she drives you home from Jackson and naive to what lies ahead.

“I know… I know what I’m capable of, Joel. I loved her so much all those years ago and… I still hurt her. I hurt her so fucking badly.”

Your image transforms to one of you awake and livid, Ellie’s flannel torn off and tears streaming down your face. Anger and betrayal are etched all over your face, just like they were all those years ago. The shame she’d felt back then is incomparable to what she feels now.

“I don’t ever want to do that to her again, ever. I just can’t. I won’t.”

Joel sighs deeply before finally speaking.

“Ellie. That fear is always gonna be there. But you’re young, and we make plenty of mistakes in our youth. God knows how much of my past I used to regret.”

Ellie takes deep breaths as her father continues to speak.

“Everythin’ that happened tonight? None of it was your fault. In fact, I reckon you’re the reason she’s still livin’ and breathin’ right now. I’m proud of you for that.”

“All I did was—”

“All you did was save her life.”

Ellie sniffles but doesn’t respond.

“Look, kiddo,” Joel continues. “As someone who has known you for a very long time, I know how much of a good heart you got. You’re a lovin’ person who deserves love. I wish you could believe that.”

The sound of people entering through the front door echoes all around the empty apartment, but Ellie hears nothing else but the sound of her own agonized sobs.

author’s notes:

belle posting TWO chapters of ncty within less than two weeks of each other??? what is this, may 2023???

saury for not posting this right away like promised yesterday, like i said, going thru some shit rn! but i hope y'all enjoyed regardless ♥︎

i'll give you a kiss on the mouth if you guess the bollywood movie i vaguely reference at the beginning of the chapter :)

the idea of reader being allergic to shellfish and going into anaphylactic shock came to me one day a while back when i was eating something with shrimp and randomly remembered that i am very allergic to shellfish and instead of being like, "i should go take some medicine immediately", i thought, "hmm this would be a wild plot point for ncty" LMFAOOOO

anyway, this is your reminder that if you have an epipen, don't be stupid, bring that shit with you wherever you go sldkfjsdl

the more of jesse that i include in this series, the more i enjoy writing him. he's such a fun character to write hehe

i thought having abby sipping on some hot, black coffee when ellie fucking canonically hates coffee was so hilarious, i pat myself on the fucking back for that one

yes i also pat myself on the back for the line regarding ellie's ocean green eyes and abby's sky blue ones. i fucking love parallels and symbolism. i'm a whore for them, in fact.

btw dina doesn't respond to ellie's phone call bc her phone died (prob from facetiming ellie for that long earlier in the night) and idk, jesse's either not paying attention or being petty LMFAO

the reappearance of barbie bearrrrr, my babyyyy. idk if y'all remember, but yes, barbie bear is a reference to the actual stuffed pink bear i sleep with every night named barbie. i had planned since chapter 4 (which is the chapter barbie bear is first mentioned) for ellie to have had her this whole time because i'm a fucking lunatic LOL

i mentioned in the author's notes section of the last chapter how reader's letterwriting hobby is inspired by me irl cause i do that all the time for friends, but reader's letter in this chapter is actually loosely based on a letter that soulmate ex wrote me, it's not word for word exactly, i altered it a bit to fit the story better, but it's very close because i'm INSANE, anyway

yes "i think i love you again" is on my playlist about my ex-girlfriend and "merry christmas darling" is on his playlist for me, go away

ellie's clear aversion to taylor swift is both a reference to a previous chapter where jesse subtly mentions her dislike for her and also to my personal belief that ellie really would not like her as a person or an artist at all irl lmfao

the names of all of ellie's ex gfs or whatever are inspired by something very specific but that's another heehee secret trivia that nobody else but me will ever know about (let's be real, i'll prob tell star later LOL)

i named jesse's mom after one of my fave co-workers hehe (and the dish she makes for them is thai bc my co-worker is from thailand)

ellie's declaration of love about reader that she makes to joel has also been a long time planned now, idk why i knew it was gonna be chapter 13 when i did it, but i just knew it was. it was always the plan for her to confess it out loud to joel first, above anyone else

the final conversation between ellie and joel is heavily inspired by a scene from one of my fave tv shows, crazy ex-girlfriend. the scene makes me bawl every time i watch it. please watch crazy ex-girlfriend. so good.

we really are thirteen chapters into this series, huh? crazy. anyway, love y'all. <3

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

softbunlvr, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, tayyyystan, @emothurman, livvy-2000, abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn

@liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @robinismywifee, villainousbear, scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh

@kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @jade-posts-sometimes, anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch

@thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, cass00x, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, tfuuka, @ellielover69, @ewwitsbella,

igoferalforelliewilliams, kissesforells, asteroidzzzn, 97cityy, joliettes, p1llowthoughtss, aouiaa, lez-zuha, ineffablefics, peepshake, lil-elliesgf, wex--12, ccinnamongrl, siriusblackrunmeover17, whenlostinthedarkness, feelsoseencantdream, bellasfavepansexual, mina-281, harrysslutsstuff, lil-elliesgf, p4ison1vy, eurewili, miksde

please note that i am no longer accepting requests to be added to the taglist, so if you would like to be notified when a new chapter comes out, please follow @belleloves and turn notifications on!

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #v #belle writes #Spotify

545 notes · View notes

art · 2 years

Photo

Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webcomics #michelle fus #ava's demon

4K notes · View notes

sassasafreeaction · 8 months

Text

It’s time to talk about the Laudanum Lesbians, Elspeth and Wee Morag. Right away, it’s pretty obvious that you’re supposed to draw parallels between them and Aziraphale and Crowley. When the viewer first meets Elspeth, we get this gruff girl who threatens the two of them and is established to be doing something “morally wrong”. Life hasn’t been kind to her, and she clearly doesn’t trust people. To really drive it home, she and Crowley are on the exact same page while they’re talking to Aziraphale and wheeling the body to the alley.

Then we meet Wee Morag, and it becomes apparent that every decision that Elspeth makes is to better their life together. She offers Wee Morag food (which is something our favorite demon is wont to do for his partner) and specifically oversells it as something fancier than it actually is. Wee Morag calls her an angel. It’s meant to be a little tongue and cheek since it’s in the presence of a literal angel, but it also serves as a way to show that while Elspeth may not be a Good person, that she at least cares about the person close to her.

Now for Wee Morag at this moment, we don’t get much from her aside from her obviously being the moral compass out of the two of them. She tells Elspeth that she's going to Hell literally two seconds after referring to her as an angel. The more important part of this interaction I would argue is Aziraphale’s response to Wee Morag. Some part of him recognizes a kindred spirit in her. He takes off his hat in a show of sincerity and says that it was lovely to meet her. This is important for later in the episode.

After they fail to sell the body, all three of them end up back in the alley with Wee Morag. Elspeth is again choosing to not trust Aziraphale despite his change of heart to do what he now knows is actually a good thing. Wee Morag starts off on the fence, worried about those souls that won’t get into Heaven. Elspeth tells her that she promised to help, and through everyone’s various methods of convincing (tempting may even be the better word as there is a demon sitting next to her when she agrees), Wee Morag says that she’ll do it because that’s what friends do. Regardless, she’s now had her change of heart. Although I would say hers is more driven by the same thing that drives Aziraphale to help with the Antichrist. It is fundamentally for her and Elspeth’s benefit, not the Greater Good per say, but she needs that reframing of doing the moral thing of upholding her promises and potentially helping people.

In the graveyard, Elspeth does all of the hardwork and Wee Morag holds the light both to assist how Elspeth sees, but also likely to help her keep watch. She’s filling a guardian role for Elspeth. Later when Elspeth sells her body, she even says “She only wanted to look after me.” Upon seeing the actual body (a priest’s body no less), Wee Morag realizes with horror what they’re doing - the potential moral ramifications stare her in the face. She ends up caught in the crossfire of a gun, and she dies for it.

Originally, I thought that Wee Morag’s death sets Crowley up to worry about what might potentially happen to Aziraphale in the future. In a way, I still think it does. She was the Good character helping the Bad character, and she pays dearly for it. His line “It’s a bit different when it’s someone you know, isn’t it?” while pointed at Aziraphale can be felt by everyone in the room. Elspeth has been dealing with death this whole episode, but her whole life is turned on its head when her ‘pal’ dies. Crowley recognizes that it’s the knowing part that actually causes something to hurt. (It’s one of the reasons why he doesn’t have many human friends. He does have a friend though, and it would absolutely gut him to lose him.)

The episode isn’t over though. We still have to watch someone else pay for stepping over the imaginary boundary of Good and Evil, except rather than it being Aziraphale, it’s Crowley. Like Wee Morag, he steps out of his usual role and helps Elspeth, and for that, he pays dearly. He gets dragged off to Hell to have whatever Demons do instead of a rude note done to him. After everything that’s happened, it’s no wonder why you get that panicked shout of “Crowley” from Aziraphale. They just watched the worst case scenario happen for people like them.

Also as another quick fun aside, both sets of characters are bound by something that allows them to not be able to carry out their actual dreams and goals. Elspeth and Wee Morag were bound by poverty while Aziraphale and Crowley are bound by their respective Head Offices.

#The 1941 minisode is probably my favorite #And I love the Job minisode #But I feel like we're sleeping on this one when it's just as good #good omens meta #good omens #meta #good omens season 2 #Aziraphale #Crowley

595 notes · View notes

etaleah · 10 months

Text

What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?

I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.

When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.

To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:

Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.

Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.

Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.

IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.

You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.

Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.

Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.

Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.

Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:

Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.

And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.

I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.

#it’s possible I missed a few bits because I haven’t played all the games #if so I’m sorry #it’s just not financially feasible to play all of them ya know #sonadow #sonic the hegehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic prime #sa2 #sa2b #sonic games #shipping dynamics #sonic heroes

486 notes · View notes

leafofkudzu · 18 days

Text

Slightly delayed post compared to usual, but hi hello and happy Spring, everyone! I hope the past month has treated you well, because the first Saturday of a new month is coming up real fast, meaning it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, [VS] Verdant Shield!

For those who aren’t familiar with art parties, they’re a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!

Location Information:

While scouting out more Ascalon-aligned locations to even out the spread, I remembered this little corner of Fields of Ruin. It houses a grave of one of the characters from the Ghosts of Ascalon novel - and for trivia purposes, everyone who's done Icebrood Saga has met another character from that novel: Ember Doomforge! But this isn't about Ember, it's about Killeen, and her lovely little resting place protected from the Brand. It's very easily accessible just by scooting up the marked path from Tenaebron Waypoint, which is in itself up in the Northwest corner of Fields of Ruin!

Time & Squad Details:

As we always do, we’ll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between. People tend to arrive early and/or jump between accounts as soon as the break comes up, so don’t be surprised to see tags and announcements going up ahead of schedule!

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Ashelin Falstaff for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or an hour before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting this one on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Beldahvia for an invite.

Closing Words:

My apologies yet again for a) being delayed in posting this, but also b) posting this in the dead of (NA) night - I've been a bit sick the past week and lost track of time, but we're here now! I do feel like a broke record every time I say this, but thank you to everyone who turns out to these events - you guys are what make everything so memorable and fun! Have a good rest of your week, and I hope to see you all there on Saturday! ♥

#yelling it's past 12am but i must post it before i go to sleep and forget #i'll reblog this tomorrow at a normal time too aaaaa #gw2 #guild wars 2 #vsartparty #obnoxious tourist simulator #📢🎨

135 notes · View notes

proxythe · 10 months

Text

i haven’t played p5/r in a while so forgive me that this entire thing is mostly off dome.

what i mean when i say “ryuji is the heart of the phantom thieves” is that i do genuinely believe that he is the glue that holds them together. without him, the group inarguably loses its charm, and would simply not function without him there. he’s outspoken, protective, and might be the only one who i feel has a genuine love toward every member of the group.

i need to replay to do a whole thinkpiece, but for now i do want to share the ryuji moments i remember the most, and why they are part of the concrete evidence that shows ryuji is the most important piece of the phantom thieves.

first of all:

such a casual dialogue that is amplified by a thousand simply because of ryuji’s unadulterated love for his friend… i am moved to tears by this interaction. i love him very much, and he is near and dear to the deepest parts of my heart.

secondly:

i admit im not in the know about a lot of persona fandom stuff, but i personally don’t see a lot of people talk about this? ignore joker on the right this ain’t about him. this is, i think, the first of many instances in which u notice how quickly ryuji jumps to defend his friends, namely his female friends, and it’s a huge part of him that draws me to his character.

since it’s atlus, it’s not hard to miss that ryuji is definitely victim to their “perverted male character” trope, but for me, the moments where ryuji is having genuine thought put behind his character, are the moments when he so intensely - and is usually the first to - defend the other phantom thieves.

another example:

the phantom thieves are each others biggest support system, as they’re a team, but ryuji is definitely the one we see show that off the most. i will not be going into details as this is all off the top of my head, but trust me i am thinking about his confidant and backstory as i write all of this out.

this has always been on my mind as well, because not a day goes by where i don’t think about how quickly ryuji reassures his friends, since they r the most important people to him in his life.

more and more:

a less serious one, but i do genuinely enjoy the thought of ryuji just bragging about his friends because of how cool he thinks they are. when i say ryuji is the most obvious about how much he loves them, i am deathly serious. that is his family.

was excited to include this as well, as it goes to show even people ryuji has only known for a month are still worth going to war for. ryuji holds such an affection for his friends that it’s like i don’t even have to say more. he is literally speaking for himself here. i will never understand how anyone could dislike someone so passionate for the happiness of their own friends?

lastly:

i am personally not a huge fan of the negative dynamic atlus likes to portray between ryuji and morgana a lot of the time, so this is why this frenzy(?) is one of my favorites in p5d. morgana is the character ryuji fights with the most, and yet when morgana is feeling dejected, ryuji is there to pick him back up. obviously i know this is how the dance works and whatnot, but u cannot lie and tell me ryuji making him happy again didn’t make u almost cry a bit… it’s okay, i did too…

conclusion:

this ryuji shit gets serious, be prepared to die behind it.

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #ryuji sakamoto #can u tell i love ryuji #he is a mamas boy of course he respects women

511 notes · View notes

lucid-daydreaming-art · 3 months

Text

emergency commissions open (for select fandoms)

examples of my art (from the last four months):

you pick the price you pick what i draw as long as it seems like a fair trade check my account for examples of my art

i mostly take pre existing character commissions, i may refuse your oc if i dont think i can draw them

i will do any of the following:

- regretevator

- my little pony

- homestuck

- invader zim

- hfjone

- bfdi/bfb

- pokemon

- furries/fursonas

- otherkin sonas

it doesnt hurt to ask though if you want something i didnt list, the worst that can happen is i say no im sorry not right now

ship art or art with lots of details may take me longer to draw than others, im not good at making characters physically touch and interact with each other

most fully finished pieces will take me around six hours. a sketch will take minutues

usually im pretty awful at finishing commissions but that’s because i get commissioned ocs that i don’t know how to draw at all, thats why im limiting this to things i can do

I WILL NOT DRAW SEX AT ALL i will draw nude characters in a non sexual way but only of they are not minors

i will not draw pedophilia/incest/abuse

robots are difficult for me, the more complicated their design the harder it is for me to draw

please be specific with how you want me to draw (style pose expression etc) i cant read your mind

itd be real awesome i need to save up $3k to move out by july and ive only made $600 since november and the jobs im applying to are rejecting me

#commission #commissions open #furry #fursona #otherkin #kinsona #regretevator #homestuck #trollsona #invader zim #hfjone #bfb #bfdi #pokemon #mlp #my little pony #mlp fim #my little pony friendship is magic #ponysona

150 notes · View notes

candycandy00 · 20 days

Note

This is my first time really interacting on here, but I really love you work so I just had to request something.💜💜

Character: Nanami

AU Setting: Masquerade ball

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Your choice

Kinks: Degradation and size difference

The Stranger at the Bar - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Non Curse AU. Degradation. Dirty talk. Size difference.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback at all is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.

The stranger at the open bar is looking at you again. He’s totally your type, with his slicked back blonde hair and impeccably tailored black suit. He’s tall, muscular but not too bulky, and he stands there holding a drink in his large hand as his eyes slide over to you again. He’s wearing a black silk mask that covers the top half of his face, the sort most of the men are wearing at this swanky masquerade ball for bored rich assholes.

You’re just here for the free drinks and food. Your uncle’s tech start up recently hit it big, so he got an invite to this party two weeks ago. “New Money”, they probably called him. But of course his perpetually single ass didn’t have a date, so he invited you to be his plus one. He even bought you a fancy cocktail dress, in shimmery fuchsia with a low neckline and high split up to the hip. You topped it off with a matching lace mask.

When the two of you walked in, your uncle patted your back and jokingly told you to “go nab yourself a rich guy”. You smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray being carried by a server.

That was over an hour ago, and you’ve barely seen your uncle since then. You spotted him a couple of times, chatting with other tech business bigwigs, but otherwise you’ve been on your own. You don’t mind. The food is fabulous and the drinks are plentiful.

Then there’s the handsome stranger who keeps looking your way. You can see his eyes through the holes in his mask, can watch them travel up and down your body as you move across the room. There’s a dance floor where some of the early 20’s folks are dancing, so you head over and put on a little show. You may not be used to fancy places like this, but you go to clubs with your friends every weekend, so you know how to shake your ass to some music.

It worked. The stranger’s full attention is on you, his eyes practically glued to your every move. You wish he would just come over and dance with you, but you suppose he’s too mature for that. He gives off a totally different vibe from the young guys who hang around you at the club.

Feeling emboldened by his hungry gaze, you work your way over to the bar and stand a few feet away from him, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. You fan yourself as if you’re hot after dancing, hoping your perfume drifts over to him.

Within seconds, he moves closer to you, leaning back against the bar casually as he asks, “Who did you come with?”

Are you that obviously out of place? You smile at him. “Who says someone didn’t come with me?” you say teasingly, sipping your fruity drink.

“Just a hunch,” he replies, glancing at you sideways.

You point to your uncle across the room. He’s laughing a little too loudly, being just a tad too clingy to the bear-like man standing next to him. You hope they’re hitting it off. “My uncle didn’t have a date, so I tagged along.”

The stranger smiles faintly. Was that his way of finding out if you’re single? His eyes roam blatantly up and down you again. You hope he’s enjoying the closer look. You certainly are. He’s tall enough to tower over you, and his warm, honey-colored eyes draw you in. He’s the kind of man you want on top of you at the nearest opportunity.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asks, moving even closer to you. He smells expensive.

“The drinks and the food? Yeah. Not sure about the people yet,” you say with a grin.

“Oh? This isn’t your usual crowd?”

You turn your whole body to face him. “Not really. I don’t usually hang around snobby rich jerks. But maybe a few of them are alright.” You say the last part playfully, looking him up and down the way he did you.

His eyes flick down to your chest, as if tracing the dipping neckline, then return to your face. “Perhaps we could talk in one of the private rooms, and you can find out if I’m ‘alright’.”

You feel your heartbeat getting faster as your excitement builds, but you maintain your breezy attitude. “Private rooms? Are we allowed to go in those? The owner of this house might not like that.”

The person throwing this lavish party is also the owner of this ridiculously huge mansion. Your uncle mentioned their name but it didn’t seem important at the time.

The stranger smiles again. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

He holds out his hand, and you take it, trying to keep your breathing steady as he escorts you through the room. He keeps pace with you, probably walking more slowly than he’d prefer, and moves in such a way that it seems like he’s clearing the path for you. Such a gentleman! You really hope he’ll be fucking you like a whore soon.

As the two of you step into a hallway, you notice the marble floors and the walls lined with paintings. “Look at this,” you say. “Who actually needs all this? It’s obnoxious.”

The stranger chuckles. “You really think so?”

You stop to look at a Chinese vase. It probably cost more than your apartment and your car combined. “All this stuff is beautiful, but I heard the owner lives here alone. He has to get lonely in this giant house, right?”

The stranger regards you for a moment, then says, “He probably does. Maybe he even throws these parties just to have some company.”

You think about his answer. “If that’s the case, I feel bad for him.”

The stranger says no more on the topic, instead leading you into what appears to be some sort of dressing room with an enormous walk-in closet. It’s exactly the kind of room you imagine a stupidly rich guy would get dressed in. There are multiple full length mirrors, high quality lighting, and a display case showing off dozens of expensive looking watches.

You turn to look at the stranger as he closes the door behind him. He holds out his large yet elegant hand to you again, and when you take it, he suddenly pulls you close, right up against his body. Oh god, he’s so firm and strong! He leans his face down and kisses your lips, both of you still wearing your masquerade masks. His hands slide across your back, one of them moving down to squeeze your ass.

He pulls away and looks at you, his dark eyes peering into yours. “What would you like me to do?” he asks, his voice low.

You lean in closer to him, pressing yourself to his warm, sturdy form, and whisper, “I want you to wreck me.”

He puts both hands on your shoulders and, not too hard but not too gently, pushes you down to your knees in front of him. He unbuttons his sleek black pants as he says, “Let’s put that annoying little mouth to good use.”

Oh fuck. How does he know exactly what you’re into? Maybe you give off a vibe. You watch with anticipation, licking your lips, as he pulls out his beautiful, massive cock. Is everything about this man as sexy as possible? From the color to the shape to the thick, delectable meatiness, his cock is gorgeous.

You don’t waste any time. You lean forward and run your tongue over it, spreading your saliva around, before wrapping your lips around it. You take him so deep, it feels like he’s halfway down your throat, and you love the fact that there’s going to be a hot pink lipstick stain around the base of his cock.

His hand is in your hair, grip firm but not harsh. “You’re practically swallowing me,” he says. “You must’ve been hungry for cock all night. Is that why you put on that lewd little show for me on the dance floor? So you could end up on your knees for me?”

You look up at his face, your mouth still stuffed full, and mumble a whiny “mmhmm” around his cock. You can see his eyes widen slightly behind the mask, feel his fingers flexing within your strands. You move your head back and forth, fucking him with your throat, fighting back gags, your tongue swirling around him the whole time.

And when he reaches his limit, he pulls your head back and says, “Open wide.”

You’re happy to obey, sticking your tongue halfway out of your mouth to give him a proper place to aim. When his warm cum hits your tongue and lips, you slowly swirl it around your mouth, giving him time to see it pooled inside before swallowing it.

He loosens his tie and then lowers himself to his knees in front of you before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving both it and his jacket on but open. You can see his toned torso, can feel how damp your panties have become. He slides the straps of your dress down, revealing your breasts, and then leans down to take one hard nipple into his mouth. You moan as you dig your fingers into the fabric of his jacket.

The stranger eases you onto your back on the floor, then pushes your shimmering dress up to your waist. It’s the most expensive dress you’ve ever worn, and right now you don’t give a shit it gets dirty. He slides down your lace panties and opens your legs, looking down at your wetness with a somewhat self satisfied smile.

“So wet for me,” he says as his fingers probe your depths. “Such a little slut, getting soaked for a man who’s face you haven’t even seen.”

Ahhh, fuck, his voice turns you on so much! His fingers rubbing circles into your clit are driving you wild. You want him, no you need him inside you!

“Please,” you whine, tugging him closer.

He withdraws his hand and lifts your hips off the floor, pulling your lower half into his lap, his thick cock resting against your needy pussy. “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes, please!” you cry, wiggling in his lap, desperate for some friction.

He has mercy on you, positioning himself at your entrance and then plunging inside. You gasp in pleasure, arching your back as he begins thrusting into you.

“So tight,” he groans, gripping your thighs. “You’re clenching me so hard… so desperate… Fuck, you’re the cheapest whore I’ve ever had! You probably would’ve paid me for this cock!”

“Ahhh! Yes, I’m a whore for you! Please fuck me harder!” you scream, feeling your climax approach as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. When he slams into you one more time, you feel the pleasure wash over you as you cum, moaning and trembling.

He gives a few more pumps, then completely buries himself inside you as he cums, filling you up so well.

You both pant as he pulls out and stands up, buttoning his clothes. He then extends his hand to you again and helps you to your feet. While you straighten your dress and pull your straps back up, he looks at you somewhat sheepishly and says, “I hope I didn’t go too far with my words.”

You blink in surprise, then laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I was into it.”

He smiles. “I thought so. I’m glad.”

You open your mouth to respond, but there’s a sudden knock on the door. The stranger walks over and opens it. A man in a server’s uniform is standing in the doorway, looking frazzled.

“There you are, sir! We’ve been looking all over for you!” the server says breathlessly.

“Oh? And what do you need?”

“We’ve run out of champagne! Your guests are getting irritated!”

The stranger pats the server’s back. “Send Ryusuke to buy more immediately. Everything will be fine, I’ll go talk to the guests.”

The server seems to relax. “Thanks, Nanami-san.”

You watch the scene, trying to keep your jaw from dropping. Now you remember the name of the host, the man who owns this huge mansion that you’ve been shit talking all night.

Nanami turns to look at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. “Will you be accompanying me back to the ballroom?”

You smile back at him. “Of course. I might get lost in this stupidly huge house otherwise.”

He takes your hand. “Perhaps if you started visiting on a regular basis, you could learn your way around.”

You walk out the door with him. “That would probably work, Nanami-san.”

#nanami x reader #nanami #nanami smut #kento nanami #nanami x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #candys2kevent

133 notes · View notes

wttcsms · 5 months

Note

"i (Nanami Kento) bet on losing dogs" x the losing dog (reader)

no other sadness in the world would do, kento nanami ;

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis a quiet and intimate examination of modern day suffering content contains implied abusive spouse (for reader), implied unrequited love (nanami has feelings for reader)

There is nothing in this world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty.

What a pathetic trait, he would think to himself. How could someone just blindly follow someone, constantly chasing after their shadow, only to be mistreated time and time again? It’s disgusting. Shameless. Weak.

He feels disgusting, shameless, weak.

Powerless, too. That’s a new one. That’s how things usually go when it’s just the two of you; you start evoking all sorts of new emotions, like he’s a video game character and you’re helping him unlock upgrades to his character. It’s a bit disarming, really. Kento much prefers to remain as impassive as possible while in the office because unnecessarily giving up any pieces of himself to this skyscraper shithole feels like he’s letting his stupidly rich clients win.

Kento likes routine, which is why he settles into one quickly and refuses to make adjustments unless absolutely necessary.

And then you became his new desk partner, and his perfect, meticulous cycle is thrown off course.

Being observant does more harm than good. He notices the shiny ring on your finger and draws an invisible, never-to-be-passed boundary. He already has made up his mind on not engaging with any of his coworkers, female or male, married or otherwise, but with you, he makes the mental effort to visualize the line, the flashing red warning signs, the whole nine-yards. This is the first sign that you are going to fuck up his life. Already, you’re embedded in his insides, owning real estate in his subconscious long before he can even realize it.

At first, you don’t talk to him much; you don’t talk to most of the men working here, and Kento can’t fault you for that. Most of them are assholes, and all of them don’t have any morals. If this wasn’t the case, they wouldn’t be working here, after all.

Eventually, you start to withdraw, and Kento becomes the person you’re most comfortable with talking to. What you see is what you get with him. Kento refuses to be one of those people who are a waste of perfectly good oxygen, and he doesn’t speak unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re in an industry where men purposely like to talk over women, just because they can get away with it. With Kento, you are given free rein of the conversation. It’s kismet, you and him.

He gets used to your constant conversation, never seeming to be put off by the fact that he doesn’t offer up his opinion unless explicitly asked. Kento normally doesn’t like it when people talk to him when he’s trying to get work done, but your voice is pleasant, your topics always interesting (“do you think there are different levels in Hell, or is a one-victim murderer being prodded by pitchforks right next to Hitler?”), and he finds that listening to you speak relaxes him somewhat. He doesn’t go home with a tightness in his shoulders and a persistent, throbbing ache in his head that aspirin can’t seem to fix.

The first time Kento initiates conversation is when he sees you wearing a blazer during the sweltering heat of one of Japan’s most unforgiving summers.

“A bit warm for all that,” he says, trying to adjust his tone and make it sound like a joke. Even if it did sound like a joke, he knows that your reaction would remain the same.

“Oh,” you give a nervous, insincere laugh, reflexively tugging on the sleeves even though your arms are still very much covered. “I get cold easily.”

That’s a lie. Kento knows because he knows you well enough to tell that you are the most genuine person he has ever interacted with. He doesn’t know how you ended up with this job when you’re much better suited for a career that actually helps people. He thinks back to when the office’s air conditioning went haywire and blasted the office with near-freezing temperatures. You had remained in your short-sleeved blouse, saying that you love the cold.

He doesn’t call you out on it, though. He just makes a noise from the back of his throat and turns back to his monitor.

He can only pretend to ignore your erratic behavior for so long. You keep yourself covered to the point where you make a nun seem indecent. You withdraw from him, not initiating conversation unless Kento brings something up (he’s never been good at making small talk, and so more often than not, the conversation fizzles out quickly and awkwardly). And then you come to work with a black eye, and Kento refuses to let you suffer in silence any longer.

You break down and cry, feeling pathetic, feeling lost. You beg him not to say anything to anybody, that this is just a rough patch, that this’ll pass, and everything will be okay. Amidst your sobs, Kento finds himself wondering who you’re trying to convince right now.

He holds you on the comedown.

Now, there’s a new cycle. Things don’t get better for you; it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out. If a man lays his hands on you once, he’ll do it again. And again. And again.

To take a life is a serious thing, but sometimes, there are worse ways to kill someone without ever murdering them. Your husband is killing you right now, a slow, soul-sucking type of death, and Kento would like to kill him. Some people are more curse than human.

What did your husband do, Kento wonders, to make you fall in love with him? What can your husband do to make you finally wake up and realize that he is entirely undeserving of your love?

Kento Nanami does not belong to any religion, does not attend church, does not even bother questioning the possibilities of a potential afterlife because his current life is already a bust as is. But after every late night he spends comforting and consoling you, holding you while you wet his button-down with your tears, he goes home and prays that you get the strength to fucking leave him. Pack your bags and get the hell out of Tokyo. Even if it means he’ll never see you again, the only person who makes this insufferable existence somewhat bearable.

But the cycle doesn’t seem to ever break. He’s watching you fade away, and he decides that all the faith systems are fucked up for ignoring his pleas.

“You should leave him.” He tells you, handing you a tissue. It’s technically a waste of breath; he tells you this shit all the time, and you never take his advice, but he says it anyway. Foolishly hoping that this time will be the time where you decide to listen to him.

(And besides, he finds that anything he says to you could never be a waste.)

“But I love him.” You give him that same sad, watery smile, and Kento wants to pity you, but you wouldn’t accept it. Outwardly, he treats you the same as he used to, before he knew all that stuff that happens to you behind closed doors, because he knows what it’s like to be treated like you’re incapable of processing anything but kindness. The sweet, sugary kind of kindness, too — none of that blunt, pragmatic stuff. Kismet, he snorts. How fortunate that the kindness you need — re: blunt, pragmatic — is the only type he’s capable of giving to you.

Being treated like you’re surrounded by broken glass and everyone around you is trying desperately to avoid it makes people feel even worse. When Yu died, everyone acted like not being overly nice to Kento would somehow make him snap and go off the deep-end. The fact of the matter is, none of these people have ever been so overly cautious around him, and it actually made the pain of losing Yu somehow more unbearable.

There are lots of replies that rest on the tip of his tongue.

But does he love you?

Why?

Have some self respect, holy shit.

Your love is killing you from the inside out.

I could love you.

He tosses away your snotty tissues into the trash can, somehow not disgusted by you even though you think he should be. His grocery list now includes painkillers, band-aids, and bruise ointment. He thinks prayers are a waste of time, and before bed, he takes a shot in the dark and hopes some benevolent god is rooting for you like he is. There is nothing in the world that Kento Nanami despises more than baseless loyalty.

“I know.” And he leaves it at that.

#kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #one shot #drabble #sleepover event

340 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 8 months

Text

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader notes: a day or two ago teddy and i were daydreaming about sucking on our Daddies’ fingers and i genuinely haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since!!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, hair pulling, oral fixation (finger sucking), somnophilia + minimal prep, mention of drugs words: 1.3k

If he’s being truthful, Mikey doesn’t really mind when you suck on his fingers—kind of likes it, actually; likes feeling useful, likes the way your tongue pulses and jumps just a bit as you draw him in a little further, suck around him a little harder, likes to pacify you—provided that it’s feasible.

You know when to ask, know that if Daddy’s busy cleaning his guns or cutting his drugs that he needs both hands, that his pretty girl can’t be greedy, now, just because she needs something to suck on. No, on those days you can usually be patient enough, can usually wait until Daddy’s finished with whatever important business he has to take care of. But sometimes, if you’re really needy, and you’ve been extra good, you might get lucky—he might let you stick his cock down your throat, let it sit all heavy and hard on your tongue as you kneel sloppily between his spread thighs, chin on the edge of his chair, hands planted between your folded knees and palms pressed flat to the floor, all conscious and intentional, since Daddy has a rule against touching during times like these, claims it distracts him, and we can’t have that, now, can we, sweetheart?

No, Daddy. Of course not, Daddy.

Daddy has a rule against sucking at times like these as well—this isn’t about getting him off or making him feel good, after all, he had told you. This is just about giving his whiny little baby something to fill her mouth with, something to fill her mouth up, to keep her occupied and quiet while Daddy works. If he feels your tongue start to curl around his shaft, if he feels your lips begin to pucker and your cheeks begin to hollow, he’ll be yanking you off his cock in one harsh, swift motion, with his knuckles rooted at your scalp and a growled curse spit through his teeth—and then you’ll be in real trouble, and you definitely don’t want that!

But it’s when Daddy’s sifting through boring paperwork and poring over mind-numbing files and notes—full of gruesome photographs and disturbing details—that the perfect opportunity arises to lend you his hand, to let you wrap both palms around his slim wrist and take his fingers into your mouth.

He knows that’s exactly what you want when you curl up next to him on his plush office couch, gazing at him with glittering eyes and your bottom lip siphoned between your teeth, but he won’t give it to you; not until you say it, of course, not until you explicitly ask for it—because good girls ask for what they want, don't they?—keen stare veiled by feathery lashes and voice trembling with a desperate sort of humiliation.

But he’s sweet as syrup when he nods and allows you to suck two of his fingers into your eager, waiting mouth, silky praises falling from between smirking lips. Because you’re so good for him, swallow so well for him, take his index and ring finger all the way in for him, right to the third knuckle, the edges of your teeth gently scraping the sharp protruding bones.

The metal of his rings clacks against the back of your teeth, platinum and white gold warming in the heat of your mouth as your tongue coils and curves around the bony digits, laves over the bumps and ridges of each knuckle and joint. Foamy saliva pools in all of the dips and crevices of the jewellery, coats the surfaces all slick and slimy and leaves the gems encrusted in the metal gleaming.

The underside of the rings feel smooth on your tongue, tip tracing around the arc of each one, slow and studious, almost as if committing them to memory. The metal has a slight tang to it, smearing the zest of sweat across your tastebuds, bitter and salty with a hint of the rusted blood still caked beneath his nails and lining his cuticles.

The pads of his fingers stroke your tongue in slow, rhythmic motions, petting the slippery little muscle in a tender caress—mindless, soothing, habitual—as tired onyx eyes skim the pages crumpled in his free hand. Delicate fingers hook around the bangles encircling his wrist and tug, begging for more and whimpering nonsensically around his flesh—more, Daddy, more, more, gimme more, pretty please.

And he does, of course, his sweet, greedy little girl, permits you to draw him further down your throat, copious amounts of drool oozing from the corners of your mouth as your lips tighten and your tongue squeezes—so much so that it’s trickling down your chin and dripping off your jaw in heavy, viscous cords, drizzling all over your chest and clavicle.

It leaves behind the prettiest streaks of shimmering spit, and Mikey can’t help but press down on the back of your tongue, enraptured as another tiny torrent of saliva seeps past his fingers to spill down his hand and collect in the lines of his palms.

The action earns him a pitchy yelp, sound vibrating around the tips of his fingers, and he snorts a little, fingers rubbing your tongue in a crude sort of apology.

Sorry, baby, sorry, he’s murmuring in response, though that smug, sadistic little smirk toying with the corners of his lips tells you that he’s not sorry at all.

His fingertips are pruned by the time he’s finished shuffling through his documents, soaked and soggy with your saliva. Your mouth’s finally gone slack, a telltale indicator that you’ve fallen asleep, dribbles of drool rolling down the side of his hand and his wrist as you breathe, calm and even and soft, around the digits lodged down your throat.

Your teeth have left cute little indents in his knuckles and the underside of his fingers, but he doesn’t mind, running the tip of his own tongue over the jagged little craters carved into his skin and humming softly to himself.

It always has his cock twitching in his trousers, straining against the thin material, and on the nights where he really needs it—when the day has been abundantly challenging, excruciatingly exhausting, full of collecting debts and deaths—he’ll rearrange your pliant body, push your head down and hips up and panties aside and use his already sopping hand to wet you just enough to comfortably take his cock, burying himself to the fucking hilt in one swift, sharp thrust and revelling in the gorgeous little gasp of surprise that claws its way past your sleepy lips.

Stay sleeping, sweetheart, he always tells you, murmured into the skin behind your ear and punctuated with a chaste kiss. Just let Daddy take what he needs.

And so you do, every single time, ever his good girl, his best girl, nodding into the corduroy couch cushions and mumbling out some garbled sentiment of affirmation.

It’s never graceful, always shameful, lacking his usual skill and subtlety as he pathetically ruts into your sweet cunt, flush hips grinding into your thighs gone sticky and slippery with desperation, humping away unevenly at you until his cock is pulsing viciously and he’s breathing out a curse against the damp nape of your neck, filling you with thick cream.

He always takes a moment to admire you after, too; to admire the mess he’s made of you, the masterpiece he’s made of you, calloused thumbs spreading your fucked-raw lips and watching as his cum cascades out of you slow and sticky, using the hardened pad to smear it across your cunt—glazing your clit and your slit and your inner thighs; painting you in him, pressing into the splotches of navy and grey those sharp hipbones carved into soft flesh—before he hoists you up, collects your boneless body in a heap in his arms and decides it’s time for bed, finally, for the both of you.

#mikey x reader #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #bonten mikey x reader #bonten mikey x you #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro smut #mikey sano x reader #mikey sano smut #mikey x you #tw:daddy kink #tw:drugs #tw:somnophilia #inky.mikey #inky.tr

391 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

snowychicken

gotta lick the batteries that keep the dream alive

a6attoir

Abattoir

dizafobart-blog

dizafob_art

kenfichtler

What is NFT Crypto

plaguedripper

1# momo enthusiast