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#Oh also i said i was keeping oc stuff for me but i post them on Kofi!!
cyellolemon · 6 months
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I'm posting a lot of fanarts lately sorry for people who prefer oc stuff!! it's not that i draw more fanarts i just keep oc stuff for myself more (especially doodles and quick stuff, when i draw fanart doodles i still want to share with the fandom and especially on a place like Tumblr!)
But also know that i post my drawings 2 months after drawing them most of the time (Kofi supporters can see it as soon as i finish them!!! :3) and i can tell you that in 2 months i'll be posting way more ocs because that's what i've been drawing the most lately!!
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lovewithmary · 6 months
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(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series
★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock?
previous next series masterlist
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 39420123 others
eviestark: i believe this called a photo dump? idk blame lando and danny for this
tagged: landonorris charles_leclerc lewishamilton carlossainz55 danielricciardo
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author: yes half of these pictures are from lando’s jpg account ignore it pls
landonorris: photo credit for the 8th picture 😎 ↳ eviestark: does it really count as photo credit when we were just facetiming and you said "smile!" and i did? ↳ landonorris: it is in my book
user1: SHE INFILTRATED THE GRID
user2: DID ALL OF THEM GIVE HER THOSE FLOWERS?
user3: ma’am do you need a dog? i can bark
user4: evie fr went from being seen with only max to everyone with her BUT max 💀
user5: gold digger ↳ user8: im sorry... but did you see her last name? STARK. meaning STARK INDUSTRIES. she's probably richer than all of the f1 drivers in this photo dump
carlossainz55: amor my picture does not look good ↳ eviestark: i told you i was taking a picture los :( ↳ user17: THE NICKNAMES????? LOS AND AMOR
lilymhe: beautiful 😍 (the flowers + evie) ↳ eviestark: can albono fight? cause i’ll fight him ↳ alex_albon: ill try to fight, but ill probably get my ass kicked by black widow's prodigy ↳ eviestark: ALEX ↳ alex_albon: shit was i not supposed to say that? ↳ lilymhe: i apologize on his behalf 😭
francisca.cgomes: i miss you smmm! we should hang out again ↳ eviestark: leave gasly, ill treat u better 😘 ↳ pierregasly: excuse me? ↳ eviestark: don't look gasly
carmenmmundt: girls day when? ↳ eviestark: get rid of george and it'll be girls night every night ↳ georgerussell63: i'm watching you evie ↳ eviestark: and you can watch me steal your girl russell
charles_leclerc: i wasn't even looking at the camera ↳ eviestark: but you still look good stfu
user6: evie must’ve saved a village in her past life because how is she so pretty, A STARK, and rumored to be with most of the f1 grid rn? ↳ user7: don’t forget her family is the avengers, she has 3 degrees, and can fight (as we have just discovered by alex)
user9: evie who is your favorite f1 driver rn (hint: m.v) ↳ charles_leclerc: (m)charles (v)leclerc ↳ landonorris: (m)lando (v)norris ↳ carlossainz55: (m)carlos (v)sainz ↳ danielricciardo: (m)daniel (v)ricciardo ↳ lewishamilton: lewis hamilton ↳ eviestark: (m)yuki (v)tsunoda (but lewis is a close second) ↳ user10: SHE'S ONE OF US!!!! ↳ landonorris: why is yuki your favorite ↳ eviestark: 1. have you seen him 2. he eats the stuff i bake 3. have you seen him ↳ landonorris: fair enough ↳ yukitsunoda0511: i will always eat anything you bake :)
danielricciardo: practiced on my jpg account to prepare myself to take picture of evie at the eiffel tower ↳ eviestark: it's pretty but it's blurry ↳ danielricciardo: you couldn't stop laughing and you turned around! ↳ eviestark: i only turned around bc u kept on making funny faces while u were taking pictures!!!
tonystark: tesoro did u get the autograph from my favorite driver? ↳ eviestark: i did, but papa you just should've texted me instead of commenting on my post 😭 😭 ↳ user11: TONY WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE DRIVER? 🎤 ↳ tonystark: lewis hamilton. ↳ user12: shouldn't it be max since you've known him the longest ↳ tonystark: not anymore.
lewishamilton: roscoe misses you ↳ user13: SHE GOT TO MEET ROSCOE HAMILTON? oh verstappen is fucked ↳ user14: not just roscoe, she also has (lewis) hamilton, ricciardo, norris, leclerc, and sainz liked by eviestark
user15: isn't it kinda fucked that just bc max was seen with kelly piquet evie is all of a sudden surrounded by f1 drivers when she and max were never together? ↳ user16: bffr she's not doing anything wrong. like u said, they were never together so that means that it doesn't matter if she's hanging out with f1 drivers now liked by eviestark
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factual-fantasy · 4 months
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24 asks!! :DD Thank you so much!! :}}
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WAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! THIS WAS SO SWEET I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY!! JUST- THANK YOU! THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!! 💖💖😭💖😭😭💖💖
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@annathefenecfox
I haven't watched the episodes she's in yet.. but I love her color palette! She looks really sweet :}💚💙💛
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@spinelfan11
They would run XD
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@supersecretnerd
Woof, she looks like hello kitty! <XD What even is she? A squirrel..? Geez, if I ever add her to my AU, she will definitely be getting a full fur color make over- XDD
(Also thank you!! :DD)
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@rubydraft (Comic in question)
YES YES! That was very much intentional! :DD And the answer lies in the fazbands!
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The animatronics can scan the Fazbands and get any important information about the child they might need. Such as the child's name, age, and which parent they belong to.
The Fazbands also act as a proof of purchase. If the the animatronic scans a child and no fazband is detected, that child must be brought to an employee. As there is no current proof that the child has had their admission paid. Hence why Gregory has a red outline, he has no fazband!
The blue kids all have standard fazbands. As every kid is given when they enter the pizzaplex.
But if its your kids birthday, they are given a special fazband that has them show up differently in the animatronics scanners. This tells the animatronics that the golden kids are the birthday boys/girls! And they will address the child as such if they ever encounter them. :)
(Also there's an Easter egg in one of those panels that no ones pointed out yet.. 👀)
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Oh yeah, there's a lot of em. :( But the animatronics don't have to worry about them. They have handlers to watch over them and keep angry Karen's/crowds away.
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I haven't really figured out their whole schtick yet..
I think in the partial swap they haven't changed much. Although Monty is a kindler gentler Monty. With Foxy by his side he's simmered down some. And his theme is a little different than before.
Roxy I think is more of a recluse in the partial swap, like original Monty is.
As for the true swap.? I haven't really figured it all out yet. Thinking that Roxy is a golfer and Monty is a racer..? I haven't thought it all through yet <XD
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@wolfie-777
Off the top of my head I have these two Minecraft wolf OCs that I made a while back :00 I cant remember any others if I happen to have them-
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@itschrisboys
:D Thanks!
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@wdillustration
XD I wont draw that today, but maybe sometime I'll draw him giving someone a big ol bear hug :)
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@acedgola
:DD Hiii!! I use FireAlpaca! Its got some problems but at least its free! Its easy to learn but also has enough tools to be used by a professional! You can also animate with it if you have the patience to figure out how to use it XD
Overall, 7.5/10 would recommend FireAlpaca!
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(Post in question)
I'm not a hardcore fan, but yes! I do love the little korbo :}} And those are some Kirby slippers I got for Christmas! :D
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They're my artist hands! And I'm not sure what you mean.. 11 hands is a perfectly normal number of hands to have!
Right.?
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I just imagined Glamrock Freddy having an imaginary friend that looks a lot like a purple/blue bunny.. :( 💔
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@softkidlavender
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My beautiful eyeballs have been known to lure people to my blog XDD (Also thank you! :DD)
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@basementdregon101
:DD I'm glad you like it!! :}}}
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@rockbott0m47
A fant. Its often mispronounced as "fart"
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@ardent-38 (Comic in question)
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WAAAA I REMEMBER THOSE TAGS!!! I SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING IN THE COMMENTS- WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IT WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY AND IT STILL LIVES RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN 💖😭💖
AND THANK YOU AGAIN!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY GOLDEN BOYS AND MY OCTONAUTS STUFF!! WAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 😭💖💖💖
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AAAA THANK YOU!! :DD I'm so glad you like them!! :}}}
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@fizzy-stars
XD I'm glad you felt inspired by me to bring those OCs back! And I hope that bite tasted good XDD
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<XD It'd be more like;
Classic Bonnie: "Dude, what happened to you?
Swap Bonnies: "😒......"
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It's all fun and games until I emerge ominously in the background with a snowball the size of a car XD
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Everyone starts looking through the cookies and trying to figure out which one they want. Meanwhile I push everyone aside and snag all the peanut butter ones XD
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- INTRODUCTION + INFO
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'eeello? heeeeeeeellllllloooo? hee-- OH oh. Forgot this works flawlessly. Whoops!
Well, thought it'd be about time to do some sort of- introduction? Something like that anyway!
Think of it likeee a preview message before establishing proper connection.
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I'm Infinite Possibilities; Creation Unending. Infinite Possibilities for short (snrk) and Creativity for shorter!
Iiiii dabble in a little bit of everything- some of you might've received pearls or files from me? Yeah
But I'm primarily known for painting and making games!
Uh. Contacts are open to anyone! I'm trying to keep this short, haha.
One of my siblings has one of these connections too! You should go bother him on my behalf
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OOC from here on out- as you can probably gleam, this is an Iterator oc askblog! This post took an unreasonably long time to make, and I apologize for that!
This account is run by me, Zoc @softcryz! OOC posts will be tagged as such!
Here's some important things to note-- I'll definitely add more as we go on. If you have any questions regarding rules or the blog in general, feel free to ask me on my main account!
This blog takes place post-ascension! ( Unless stated otherwise ;] )
Any interactions are open, but that does not guarantee that I WILL answer your ask. I have every right to not respond/delete things that I am not comfortable with or just simply do not want to follow through with.
^ That said, please try not to be weird about it. I mean via sending nsfw and the like. Kind of obvious but I'm still putting this here.
#ip;cu_talks // #wawa_talks -- posts where they're talking
#ip;cu_asks // #wawa_asks -- asks directed to either of those two
#LANDS_EDGE -- Local group tag!
#friend_tower -- Posts that include people IP;CU knows :]
#art_pipebomb -- Fanart and the like!!
If you have any questions regarding the blog feel free to send them to my main account :]
I'll add onto this as I think of more stuff, but until then! Character notes time!
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INFINITE POSSIBILITIES; CREATION UNENDING
Gender apathetic - Pansexual [He/him] [ TOYHOUSE ] [ ARTFIGHT ]
Creativity is the second guy in the Lands Edge group! He was built to process MUCH more and MUCH faster than the standard Iterator-- to the point where no real "limiter" could be put on his systems because his processing just kept. Tanking and breaking it.
The infinite thinking and everything that comes with it is not entirely within his control, though. It isn't something he can shut down or slow down.
Due to his constantly-working brain and need for stimulation, he sorta just... Does a whole bunch of stuff! Just to do it! He's taken a specific interest in programming "games" for other iterators, and is very open to suggestions!
City was somewhat known for being a sort of centre of many different types of art. (He's more well-known for being the game developer guy-- and the weird iterator who keeps sending paint deliveries out to random people)
BIG guy. He's like. Two heads taller than the average Iterator. Height chart coming soon
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WAWA
She/her dominant (any pronouns) [ TOYHOUSE ] [ ARTFIGHT ]
wawa.
runs on cartoon logic
a little smaller than a slugpup
insane dodging capabilities. She's also an obligate carnivore
Where's the slug in this slugcat. This is just a beast of some sort
?? JUST APPEARS? She will just teleport in your chamber. say her name and she'll appear
she also paints with Creativity :]
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be-my-ally · 8 months
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Splashing Around Ch. 2.
Chapter one can be found here.
So hello, welcome back to my lil cute, OC inspired a lot by Arlene (but also by my 50s dreams) cute kissing haven. I have to apologise for how short this is - it was taking me forever to finish the next section, so I've decided to break up what was one loooong chapter into two teeny tiny ones so his draft notice, army el, arguments and more kissing (basically all the good stuff I can't wait to share) to come very very soon!!!! 
I am, for those waiting on smut, cooking up a few things but I've been very, very, very, busy the past few weeks and can barely think about like, making a cup of tea, let alone putting words together in a way that makes sense so hang tight, it's coming.
wc: 3k.
sorry it's so short & so late - I think I've been promising *something* for like a month now, @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love but hey, here's something! I'm hoping it'll set me off writing and posting again.
shirtless elvis 1957 inspo pic:
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c. July 16th - August/September 1957.
Elvis grabs a covered plate from the kitchen island, still dripping wet, before whisking it up the staircase to the side, depositing them both in his bedroom. Louise hadn’t been up this way yet, she’d briefly been shown around when he’d wanted to show off to her and the other girls; they’d all ended up piled onto his bed, stroking his hair and talking, but somehow the intimacy of going up these stairs, with him alone, made her feel like it was her first time witnessing this private space. 
“Right, it’s uh,” He looks up and down at where she’s dripping onto the carpet, “probably for the  best if you go on through there again.” He points through to the dressing room, “there’s uh, there’s towels and uhh, soap and all of them things in the bathroom there if you want a shower or anything.” 
The storm crackles outside, but in the cushioned sound of the bedroom and dressing room it's almost impossible to tell, and Louise quickly busies herself, uncertain of how long Elvis would be preoccupied, and not wanting to keep him waiting. She does, however, take a little longer in the shower than she usually would - marvelling at the amount of hot water available that meant both of them could shower at the same time.
She’s carefully trying to roll her hair in her fingers, concentrating on her reflection in the mirror,  when Elvis pokes his head in, sidling around the door until she waves him in fully. She immediately regrets it, realising she’s only half-dressed, sat in her underwear and her blouse on but unbuttoned. 
“Oh - uh, Elvis! I’m not, quite, um ready for yo-” She watches him as he looks her over, he’s barely dressed himself, pants slung low on his hips, unbuttoned, and shirtless - but he’s entirely unself-conscious, holding the plate out to her, unlike the blush spreading across her body. She cringes a little, skittish, and he snaps himself out of it when he notices her nerves. He frowns, looking her over, and Louise feels the panic suddenly rising - is she not what he expected? He saw her in her swimsuit earlier…but it just feels different somehow now - maybe now, fresh-faced, she’s just not pretty enough? But he makes no comment on her body other than an attempt to ease her mind. 
“Thought I told you girls to settle, ain’t no-one gonna do anything you don’t want, sweetheart - won’t touch ya, I swear it.” She swallows, she hadn’t been scared quite in that way, but she would be lying if she said his words hadn’t reassured her. Louise nods, slowly, uncertain of what to say next, but Elvis takes care of it - striding over to place the plate on the dressing table, whisking the cover off the top. “There’s cookies there. Help yourself, I’ve already had a dozen waitin’ for you to get outta the shower.” 
“Oh! uh, I didn’t mean to keep you, I mean you could’ve just called - I didn’t mean to take -” She panics all over again, and he holds his hands up in an attempt to calm her,  
“No, no, honey, re-lax, just meant I was waiting for you to be done s’all.” He shakes his head,  “I promised you a blow-dry didn’t I?” He twists a strand of her hair in his fingers, “... how about I do yours and you do mine?” 
“Uh, yeah,” She swallows, “yeah that works.” 
His deft hands style her hair, but the whole time she can hardly breathe feeling his fingers against her scalp, finger-combing and gently twirling and twisting the strands of hair into some semblance of a do. She can’t take her eyes off of him in the mirror, a look of complete concentration on his face; almost a pout, with a slight furrow of his brow and his lips pushing forward as he focuses on his actions. 
The dryer prevents all attempts at conversation - which is lucky, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pay attention to a word he said, too focussed on trying to memorise the feel of his rings catching on a tangle - the tug somehow not feeling the same as when she brushes it, the sting making her shift in her seat, a dizzying feeling flooding through her body. 
“There.” Elvis finishes with the blow-dryer, fluffing her hair like she’s at the salon, looking back at her in the mirror. Miraculously, for all the ridiculous ways he was twisting and turning to do it, he’s managed to achieve a fairly respectable blow-out. “There we are. Now, look how pretty you look. Oughta do it for you everyday - could be my new career.” He puffs out his chest, clearly proud of himself and Louise laughs, 
“Hmm, I’m not sure all the other girls in the world would be pleased with that.” 
“Well I ain’t worried ‘bout any of them other girls, only you, baby.” He’s looking a little bashful, folding his arms across his bare chest. She can’t stop the blush, or the grin, from overtaking her face. She takes a second to respond, struggling to think of a reply, something that would make him feel as giddy as she does, when she’s suddenly knocked half off of the bench. Elvis sat down, bumping her with his hip. “Ok, my turn!” Louise obediently hops up, smiling at his playfulness, 
“Uh, ok - but I gotta warn you,” She nervously brings her hands up to touch his still-damp hair, it’s darker wet, but she can see where the dirty blonde is starting to shimmer through, “I haven’t ever dried a boy’s hair before, so, I might not do it very well and -” 
“You’ll do fine, doll,” He shakes his head at her, 
“Well, you might have to direct me,” His own smile grows wider, as if he’d expected she did this every weekend, and the knowledge that it was all new to her pleased him. 
“S’ok honey, I trust you.” She does her best, fingers pulling gently to hold the hair this way and that, as he constantly wiggles around in the chair; but she can’t help but get a little distracted by his expression in the mirror. By the way he seems to be practising posing, as if unaware she’s watching the whole time. His pouty lips going from a half-smile to a scowl to a lip raised in quick succession.
Louise thinks back to it, sat with her legs across Elvis’, on his new couch that he had been oh-so-proud to show off a week or so ago, of how lucky she was to be chosen like this, to be able to have thread her fingers through his hair, or watch him carefully comb it into place after it was dry; to be so close to him that she could see the acne across his neck, the remnants of a shaving rash on his lower jaw. How many girls could say they’d gotten to do this? But with that thought comes the sobering reality that it has to end at some point, and she’d rather not outstay her welcome…it’s probably time for him to get ready for dinner, or for entertaining whoever he’d invited tonight. 
“I’ve had a lovely day…thank you Elvis, it’s been really special…” She’s inching around the subject, she doesn’t want to leave, or for Elvis to say it’s time for her to go, but if he is she wants it to be from her prompting. She wants him to like her, desperately so, but she’s seen enough to know that she also doesn’t want to act too desperate, she wants to seem cool, and older than her years make her, mature about it all - aloof. She’s not though, and the relief she feels when he responds, 
“You ain’t thinkin’ about leavin’ me now are you?” while tucking her further under his arm and against his chest, is immeasurable. She’s safely cocooned against his torso, his freshly showered scent; shaving lotion, laundry detergent, and underneath it all him, the smell of all of it, along with the sound of the rumble of his voice in his chest, his heartbeat all mingling to solidify this memory in her head. Louise knows she won’t ever be able to smell any of the scents again, or hear another’s rumble or heart without picturing this moment in her mind. 
She spends the rest of the evening with his hand on her, on her thigh, her arm, her stomach - curled together and whispering to each other.  Even when some of the boys stop by - albeit briefly, no-one seems to be staying for dinner - he has a hand on her at all times, and no-one seems to blink twice at it. His lack of awareness of personal space, or perhaps of his lack of care about public physical affection completely understood. So, none of them question, even if Louise wasn’t Anita, why she was curled in his lap all evening, 
The other girls hadn’t materialised, some girls had, but not the girls. and Louise worried that it was intentional - that he was ashamed of her or something - was she meant to keep the day a secret? Worse to her than being kept a secret though was the thought that he might not consider her secret-worthy, and the fear that he might laugh her off is enough for her to keep her mouth shut from questioning him. So that night when she leaves, finally, long past midnight, despite her desire to, she doesn’t wait the last few hours until daylight and immediately call them, doesn’t get asked to be dropped off at Frances’ house, or stand beneath Heidi’s window waiting to be let in before crawling into bed with her - girl talk until the sun comes up. She wants to - god she wants to, wants to shout about it - wants to tell everyone that she’s just been on an honest-to-god date with Elvis Presley, that she’d kissed him. With tongues! But despite this desire, she’s almost too nervous to burst the bubble, the special bubble where only she knows; instead having to content herself with whispering the story to the stuffed bear tucked under her pillow - she’s much too old for him to be sat out in the open - or recounting it in as much detail as she dared to her journal.
She’d been sent home with the promise that he’d take her out for dinner the following night - but there’s a call about a change of plans; they’re all going to the cinema instead, Loving You was on the agenda,  and she arrives at Graceland that evening just in time for everyone to be piling into their cars, just barely making it in time for Elvis to smile at her, looking handsome as ever, captain’s hat on his head again and grab her wrist, pulling her into the back of his Cadillac with him. Louise tries her best to enjoy it as she might have done in the past, but she’s so worried about how to behave - if anyone can tell, worried about the other girls’ reaction; is she going to turn into some sort of social pariah? Ruin her chances for friends over a boy? Even if that boy were the only thing any of them truly had in common? And if that boy wasn’t just a boy, but a man, and Elvis at that. She can’t work out if it being Elvis makes it better or worse, so she sits there, primly, worrying her cuticles with her nails and her lips with her teeth. She watches as a tiny well of blood starts to form from where she’d pulled the skin a bit too hard and a bit too far - right to the quick, and she jumps as he covers her hand with his, pulling it out of her lap and onto his. He tuts at her, pulling out a handkerchief to rub at it, 
“Look at the mess you’ve made of that, stop picking at yerself darling. You’ll be sore for days.” She cringes, the desire is only made stronger by his holding of her hand, the worry that the others in the car might notice. They were sitting right there. But she complies, and is eventually soothed by the repetitive motion of his thumb on her palm. He lets go as they pull in, clambering out of the car almost before it’s even fully parked, seemingly anxious to get into the closed theatre. She tries not to be too disappointed at watching him run off with the boys without her, instead waiting for the other girls to climb out of the other cars, joining them in their excited giggling and chatting as they go in. Louise again has to remind herself to act normally, to join in their gossiping about how lucky she was, how excited they were for the film, and pretend she wasn’t a little upset watching him sit three rows ahead of them all. 
By the time the film is over they don’t bother staying for the double feature that had been set up for them, Elvis whisking the group away with the suggestion that even though it was dark out, it was still hot, and did they want to go for a splash in the pool? The night continues in that manner, Louise being seemingly steadfastly ignored, although she succeeds some of the time to forget about it. 
She’s not fretting in the shadows, she was just… taking a minute. He’d paid her no attention in the theatre, and the past half hour had been spent pretending not to be eavesdropping into the boys’ conversation, discussing Anita, singing their praises for her - as much as Elvis would allow - for her figure and face, and very briefly - her personality, before moving onto other girls; who from Hollywood they all wished Elvis would invite over, say, did you hear about that Venetia Stevenson girl coming in a couple of weeks? So on her way back out from the bathroom Louise felt like she was entitled to spend a moment or two in the shadowy corner by the back door. Taking a deep breath as she tried to remind herself not to compare, that maybe they spoke about them like that when they weren’t around. That sure, Anita might be a tiny little thing, but even she probably had to breathe in to button up her skirt - even if it was a smaller size. That, if nothing else, she wasn’t here with them all. 
She wouldn’t deny having had a good time, the film was wonderful, and the night as jolly as any, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder what had gone on that he’d decided to ignore her completely. She’s just getting to the point where she’s ready to return, a smile plastered on her face when suddenly, from the door, an arm reached out and pulled her back against the open door frame. Tugging her against someone’s warm body. She relaxes as soon as she recognises the smell and feel of him and he laughs as she stumbles against him, hands gripping both of her arms. He leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, open-mouthed, breathing on her as much as kissing her, before trailing his lips to meet hers. One of the boys shouts for Elvis, something about fireworks, and the next second he’s gone, barely a grin at her dazed expression, before he’s running off again. She can hear the way that the boys tease him about the lipstick smeared across his face, and his tight-lipped response. It makes her smile to herself, the way she has to try and catch her breath, still hidden in her shadowy corner, but no longer feeling invisible. And, though she wishes he’d pull her onto his lap or kiss her in front of everyone, she figures maybe it’s ok to keep it just for herself for the moment too. 
She doesn’t get the chance to see him alone again for a while, there are parties, and gatherings, and then he’s gone again - off on tour and to California for a long couple of months. Louise really tries to accept it all, even though the pictures appearing in the papers, and some of the stories that get relayed back (although never directly by Elvis) makes her heart hurt. It’s difficult, when he seems to look so happy in them, and so do the girls surrounding him - and who is she to judge another girl for feeling herself glow just by standing next to him. A little of his light reflecting onto them. 
One particularly brutal evening, after he’d promised to call but never did, she can’t help but cry into her pillow. This is why he goes for girls like Anita, ones that are a year or two older, they can cope with it. Louise shakes her head to herself - she can cope with it, she’s sure. She can deal. She can be mature, and deal with him out and about and kissing other girls. If Anita can, she can. Accept him inviting the starlets over, that’s fine, they’re only the toy of the moment, and eventually they have to go back to their own glitzy lives. They’re not like her, they don’t have an open invitation to his bedroom or to sit with his mother. But then, they do get private calls with him, and she knows Anita’s been telling anyone who’ll listen about the “just darling notes” he sends her.  Louise doesn’t get notes, sometimes he doesn’t even refer to her by name; simply just as part of the ‘girls’ he seems to always want to talk to as a group - all of them crowded around the receiver at Heidi’s house or Graceland. But then, rarely, sometimes, he slips into the conversation a little check-in, “How’s my lil’ Lou? Bein’ good for me doll?” and it makes Frances look at her in a calculating way, but her heart stutters every-time, every-time she responds
“Of course Elvis! Just waiting for you to come home. I can’t wait to see you.” He never replies the same way, it’s either
“Ah, who could miss this ol’ ugly mug,” or worst of all, “Uh-huh, looking forward to seeing the whole gang again soon.” On one occasion though, it was “Of course, honey, I’ll be seeing you re-eal soon,” and that was enough to give her hope all over again.
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ghouljams · 10 months
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What dept does the flower shop owner owe to Liebling???? He said the 'gift' he bestowed wasn't enough to clear his debt so now I'm thinking Liebling might be owed a life dept or maybe something close to it. Oh and how long has it been since he left for his honeymoon? Will he ever come back? Does Liebling own the shop now? How long did it take her to adjust to seeing Fae? I have have so many unanswered questions running through my mind I can't calm down!!
Thank you for blessing my feed with your posts it's much appreciated 💗
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I think we've gotten to a point where I really gotta just acknowledge the Darlings are OCs, which is fine by me but i know my sister at least still reads them as reader inserts. As usual if you don't want to get them as OC fits you don't have to read the no fae!boys stuff, I'll pop it under a cut. This is probably going to be a lot of author talk anyway...
So Tock owes Liebling a large debt because she'd been managing the shop and going above and beyond with it. She didn't ask questions about the weird customers, she made Tock tea and coffee without being asked, it was just a lot of acts of service care that Tock sort of didn't realize had piled up to such an extreme. Liebling really considered her boss a close friend so it was sort of jarring when he just up and left.
It really was getting close to a life debt too. Tock is really uh... stupid as shit with his debts. I won't get too into his whole deal but yeah he's bad at keeping track, that's how he ended up married with no courtship. He's happy though don't worry! I think in the timeline he's probably been on his honeymoon at least a year now in human time terms. Time in the fae wild is weird.
He's never coming back lol. His husband is high fae and Tock is very happy to be a trophy husband. He is not going to come back to work at the shop, which he is well aware of and that's why he put all the necessary documents in Liebling's name.
So yes Liebling does technically own the shop but she tries not to think about it. It stresses her out that she's a business owner. Having to figure out taxes was a nightmare for her. König really met her when she was at her most chill tbh.
Also I don't think liebling is used to seeing the fae. I think she mostly tries to ignore them. It was probably a very scary first few months having the sight. I should write something for her and her initial horror of it all.
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sharkfinn · 4 months
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Hey, you said that you came up with the Little Brother au before you started Tumblr, right?
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So, since I haven't been following you for that long, or at least, I think so, what was your inspiration for making this au? When did you exactly come up with the idea? Do you have any original title names?
Also, a silly question: What are all the fandoms you are currently in? Just in case your pinned post is outdated :]
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oh man. hmm
i got into tmnt 4th april 2021, because i wanted to rewatch 2012, only remembered some of it from when i was little, then deciding yup i want to look at everything tmnt. then i got hyperfixated
he started out as a really ambiguous any iteration oc, around the time i was reading the northampton arc of idw, (late juneish 2021?) was when i first drew him, all it was was just hehe silly green masked ninja turtle in sophie campbells idw artstyle
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(i love sophie campbells art its so good)
then i drew him in the 2012 series, and he became more of his own character. in my old idea for 2012 he was significantly moody and overconfident, had his own abandoned area in the subway tunnels for spraypainting, was good buddies with raph but really didnt like leo at all. also had a scar on his shell, for some reason?? i wont say why but he can super easily be slapped into another iteration and i love that
it was only when i watched rise and tried to imagine him in their universe too that i went hold on- we got a whole potential story here. little brother was a placeholder title really, but i couldnt think of anything better soo. little brother.
the vine flesh concept was an absolutely random idea at first that was way too cool to drop.
i did have this whole really cool arc planned where eventually draxum did get tricked into allying with the foot, theyd protect five whod help fight the mad dogs for the kuroi yoroi shards, ("looking for this?") and hed also be able to sabotage the armour in some way.
but. i couldnt have this in because 1. distract way too much from the story i want to tell. 2. having shredder appear in the comic would ask for an entire shredder arc and respectfully no thanks lol.
just imagine five is in s2 trust me hes there hes awesome (oh and you know how in canon, shredder needed to take power from draxum, and it looked like he took the vines power from him? uhuh. and you know how five also has it? but instead its the only thing keeping him stuck together? uhuh. anyways!)
ohh!! cool oc trivia- his weapon was kinda undecided between tonfa (before i watched rise) or two scythes i referenced it in page 20 :D !!
his weapon would still be scythes i think, if he wasnt using the vines as his weapon
and no i try to keep my master post updated all the time, theres HEAPS more stuff i like, just complicated to think what to put on there? for example i looove how to train your dragon, but havent seen much of it past rewatching the 3 movies, thats nothing compared to rewatching all of adventure time 5 times. i dunno!
the way my interests work is that theres a selection of 1-3 that my brain focuses on, but it doesnt make any of the others less or i stopped liking them at all or anything. i have so many interests help me
right NOW im really hyperfixated on danny phantom and tf2!!
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smilestrawbunny · 22 days
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Hey! Just a heads up, I'm sending this to multiple people, since I wanna get as many different viewpoints on this as I can. I hope this doesn't bother you. Also, this is pretty long.
So, I have a question about gamedev, but more on the marketing/presence side.
Most gamedevs I know, even hobbyist ones, keep their accounts relatively professional. Sure, they may shitpost here and there, but it's mostly in relation to their games, the gamedev sphere in general, or very general inoffensive stuff. And, most importantly, I've seldom seen my favorite gamedevs (or any of my favorite internet personalities, for that matter) comment on random videos unrelated to what type of content they usually post.
All of my social media accounts are quite unprofessional. I've also had them for a long time, so there are a few things on my digital footprint that I'd rather people not see. I also, for lack of a better way of explaining, watch and read random shit and like to leave comments on it sometimes.
I feel like, I were to become a gamedev, I wouldn't be able to do that anymore. I'd have to treat my internet presence as its own balancing act, rather than a place for me to express myself unabashedly. I know this is working under the assumption that I would get big and that people would give a damn about me, but there is always the off chance of that happening. Of a random game you make suddenly blowing up because it hit the algorithm just right. So it's better to be prepared. And even if I don't get that big boom in popularity, I still plan to at least make games consistently enough to build a community of their own. Nothing like, huge, but I really enjoy the idea of people enjoying my work and sharing that enjoyment with others. But I don't want that to cross over into my personal life!
I know that's not an impossible feat, but I feel like it kind of destroys the purpose of the internet for me. To me, it's always been a safe space where I could express myself and easily connect with people with similar viewpoints, but I am now coming to odds with this concept as I consider how I want to become a gamedev.
There's also the side note that I don't wanna rebrand. At least not completely. I don't mind cleaning up my accounts or deleting some old ones, but I've grown very attached to being "Quamai". I can't imagine myself having any other online identity, even if there are some cringy moments attached to it.
So, do you have any advice for my situation? How did you personally go about your own online image, and what do you think is the best course of action?
Thank you in advance!
Oh, I am such a funny person to come to about this- I never let being a game dev stop me from interacting with works I like, haha! Maybe that’s just because I’m a smaller creator, though. Just recently I posted death note fan art, I’m currently working up the courage to post about fandom related ocs, and I’m hosting a game jam encouraging fan works that might be considered “cringy.”
The people who like you and your work will still be there regardless. You can count on that as a fact! So why should you stop yourself from having fun?
Life is far too short to be worried about your public image to such a high degree. Like you said, these are already things that you actively do to express yourself and enjoy! So if it gives you any semblance of comfort, I’ll start doing even more “unprofessional” things to help you out there <3 /pos
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asterefflores · 7 months
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I saw the post about angst in your story. I want to put a comment but mine might be just too long and this app is just not ready for it xD, so I drop it here.
For me, the angst in ur story tilts towards the darker side. It's not just sad, unhappy stuff. I don't know how to articulate it in human language (istg), but I find it remarkably balanced and just feels right. It feels fitting, somehow.
Each arc in your story unfolds at the perfect moment, revealing itself in due course (what am i talking about). Tbh, your story might be considered heavy. I said this numerous times already (maybe) but I love the world-building in it (even tho my brain needs to restart every time).
The characters' backgrounds and the reasons why they are in their current state are intriguing. Moreover, although you introduce certain angsts, what I admire is that you never dwell on them excessively. They are relatable, logical, and not exaggerated or cringe-worthy. They are in the right amounts.
It's like, the story holds multiple layers of surprises each time you unveil the answers to the readers' questions of "why." Also, the angst within goes beyond than just sadness, contain/hiding various emotions and elements of irony.
I remember how the other readers and I went crazy (for fun) with theories in the comments when it was first revealed that Cale had a connection to the Secret Kingdom. We all anticipated something light and fluffy, but oh my goodness, jahahshfhf it took a darker turn that caught us off guard in the most unexpected moment. I love that aspect, and the transitions between each arc are incredibly smooth.
I also love every one of your original characters, (wait you already knew this ajshfkh) but duh, I've never had this much love or enthusiasm for fanfic before. I have a huge crush on your art and writing. It's therapeutic for me to see and read them. Thank you for the artwork and stories, even your daily shenanigans at your office @Xwitter are entertaining to follow up. Love isn't enough to describe how fascinated I am with your work.
I know, I throwing so many compliments for you on this one. I can't help it. I hope you don't mind🧍🏻‍♀️if you mind, I'd still going to do it. So I hope you still don't mind.
Please have a good day 🍀 (Please rest...)
I like to keep the characters realistic with logical responses in any case according to their traits and their back stories and whatnot, I don't like dwelling on anything too much in the plot, sure the angst part is important but if used too much it'll ruin the story not only for readers but also for me lol, it'll feel like I'm forcing it on the characters when, logically thinking, they wouldn't stay depressed for long or behave in certain dramatic ways, based on the way their brain works and all.
And yeah, well, my fanfic was indeed meant to be simple at first you know, but I naturally turn any plot I write heavy and dark with time, and it gets worse gradually but I try to hold back and be reasonable before I mess up at some point lolol
I didn't know you find my transitions between each arc smooth, I'm really happy and thank you for letting me know, all this time I stare at my stories and ask myself "Are there even arcs? Isn't it all a mess? Does anyone notice the transition? Is there even a transition?" Then laugh at my own writing and say it is what it is and keep writing anyway while confident that I'm doing everything wrong somehow XD
And you know, when I introduced OCs in my fanfic I was very sure no one gonna care or pay attention to their parts (except maybe my close friend lol) so I'm really glad to see some readers come to love them eventually, though I think Tristan is getting most love than the rest but that's expected considering his character and his role with Roksoo and Cale lol, I expected many readers would hate his role as their father but now the majority is cheering for him xDD
About my office shenanigans, you just made me recall how my followers on Instagram used to like and anticipate my stories about my daily life at work lolol I didn't think anyone would find joy in them also on twitter/X but glad you enjoy my comical work life 🤝🏻
Lastly, ofc I don't mind, at all, you don't know how many times I read your message and made me smile the whole time, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me 💕💕💕
And I'm trying to rest, I think I'm resting— ok, the fact I don't even know if I'm resting says enough lol but I'm working on it *cough
Thank you again and take care you too, have a good day 🌸🌸
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anti-endo-haven · 25 days
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vent
hey okay so. one of my friends just made me really fucking mad actually
i was talking about guns (because another friend was designing one for an oc) and i offhandedly said "my dad was a cop and is also a veteran! i'm not bragging about that. i'm just glad he taught me the things i know now" because you know i really do like guns and i like shooting ranges and i like knowing about weapons and stuff man because it's just cool. i think it's cool.
and this friend that pissed me off, goes "oh it's cringe that your dad was those things but it's cool he taught you about guns"
and i. okay. look. if anyone has a problem with the choices my dad made in his past, it's me. trust me i'm queer and trans of course i have fucking issues with it. but he's my dad. i can also understand that the life he was subjected to ultimately led to making those poor decisions. he used to be like me. he used to be radicalized because he had experienced police brutality firsthand. he was abused, at home, at school, in public by unhinged strangers, criminals, and police alike. he was a failure to his family and he genuinely felt like his only option was to sell away his youth to the fucking military. he was in operation desert storm and he NEVER came home the same. all because he desperately wanted to make people proud of him for something he wasn't instead of them just accepting him for who he was, and that was WRONG both on his end and theirs.
i'm not gonna sit here and talk about my dad's trauma like it's mine but i'm also not gonna say there weren't a lot of factors that made him make those decisions that he genuinely thought were right especially because mental health resources were and still ARE very stigmatized.
but it just pissed me off. that's my dad. i love him very much and i can criticize his choices because i know what happened to him to make him that way. i know that if things were different he'd be in a much better place and god i wish that were the case because he's my fucking dad
idk. it really REALLY made me angry. there's nuance here somewhere, i don't have the words. i will never defend my dad's actions full stop i'm really embarrassed that he was a cop at all. i don't even like talking about it unless necessary. because people will always act like i'm defending the things he did or defending cops or defending the military if i say "hey don't fucking talk about my dad that way ever again please". do you support billionaires just because your mom works at walmart??? jesus fucking christ.
i don't have to hate my dad to hate the things he did
Okay, so. That’s your dad first and foremost. Full stop. That’s all it takes and that’s all that matters.
The job he has/had does not matter right now. Your family was criticized and that can hit hard.
And, honestly, it’s better to learn from someone that has training with guns to tell you everything you need to know and to keep you safe. That’s not a bad thing.
I’m sorry that your father had to go through what he did, but just because of those choices, it doesn’t make him any more or less human, it doesn’t make him any less good. He’s human. We all make choices we can regret later on or will look back on and say “why did I do this?” even if it was something that wasn’t really a choice.
That’s still your father and it’s perfectly okay to defend him because that’s family.
That friend sounds extremely rude and I hope things can get worked out.
If anyone wants to harass anon because of their father’s working areas, I’m deleting those comments and any reblogs saying anything negative is going to be me blocking your account. Look past the job and look at the man underneath who is teaching his kid gun safety with this post. Nothing else.
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justadeadreaper · 2 months
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I have been sent here by another author and I have never been happier to see omegaverse stuff
~🧋
You honestly do not understand how much I love Omegaverse, 🧋. Me and a certain someone (you know who you are but luckily I will not tag you) talk about Omegaverse COD a lot to the point we have our own little AU of them and joke about Omega! Makarov and his breeding kink
Luckily for you and others I will be posting more Omegaverse content as I just love it
At the moment I have got three asks which I am trying to finish as I have been sick and finally have the time to finish them. The first is about Alpha!Reader finding out about Omega!Makarov being pregnant and how excited he is. The second is about Omega!Makarov and his breeding kink with all the insane shit it makes him do. And the third was an ask about Omega!Makarov using his pheromones to keep his Alpha going and I hope the asker is okay with me writing about Omega!Makarov and an Alpha!OC of mine because I read it and immediately thought about something for the two of them especially because I love an overstimulated and submissive Alpha
I am also writing something to celebrate having a 100 followers even if it is a bit late, alongside a very big and long project. It is a post that will have an Omegaverse headcanon for many, many COD characters 
I will be honest when I say you can spam my inbox with anything -especially Omegaverse asks or headcanons because they fuel my day-
It can be general things, like just chatting or asking random things or asking about my AUs or characters in different scenarios, or (my absolute favourite thing) sending in things relating to the Omegaverse. Specific ideas for specific characters and what they would be like in the Omegaverse or just ideas for the Omegaverse as I have so many ideas for it and how it can work
I will write about virtually any character in COD but I prefer MW and the operators from the multiplayer as I know about them more. Old or the Reboot, it does not really matter to me. Although, I do have a preference for Makarov (which is quite obvious), König (again very obvious), Price, Nikto, Nikolai, Captain MacMillan, Captain MacTavish, and Andrei which I know is basic but I have a type 
This is because of a certain someone specifically but I will also write for characters who are not in the COD but have been played by an actor in COD. It will be as if that character is in COD and related to different COD characters. You may have seen others do this but examples are Joe Graves from Six, Sergei from Berlin Station, Xavier from NCIS, etc. 
Also, I have some COD OCs (15 to be precise for the moment, but it also can technically be counting as 16 due to one certain thing) that I do not mind writing about especially for Omegaverse as I have too many ideas. But, like for the above, I will only write about them or answer questions if specifically asked 
All I need is for anyone sending in an ask to be very specific as I am quite dense due to being Autistic and I may not get it or misunderstand if it is not directly said what is wanted, I apologise for that. Just send asks in so I know what people want
Oh! And if you want to be an emoji anon just send in the emoji and I will make a list and tag for you
I hope you have a good day and are feeling well!
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xxk3vonicaxx · 8 months
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... Here we go againn
So Blurry made a doc about me and posted it through a friend of his aandd... Oh boy is it somethingg, it's basically full of already resolved issues (only showing what I did to him and not what he did to mee), out of context screenshotss (as usuall), aand just blatant liess. He tried to claim I was his "abuser" as well 'cause I had held him accountable for his behaviorr (Whichh... Is absolutely crazyy, buut okk)
The only good thing about this was that Blurry referenced my special interest in the titlee, like yess, thank youu✨
Anywayy, onto discussing the docc:
First of alll, I never drew the art to "get back at him" or whateverr, like he so claimss, those aren't my words like he's claiming they aree, I never said I wanted to get back at himm, that's not what it waas:
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It was for two reasonss, though the main one is the firstt:
It was meant as a warning for Blurry to try and stop stealing designs from my bestiee
Also I thought it would be a funny warningg (a jokee)
I've literally stated this several timess, how hard is it for someone to understandd? Not to mention I apologized for itt
Just 'cause something is a warning doesn't make it be out of revengee, Doing something as an act to warn someone not to do what they're doing isn't revengefull, don't know why he keeps trying to think it's out of revenge when it's nott
Likee, it's literally stated heree, by my bestiee, that it's a warningg. Neither of us would do this kind of thing to anyone elsee (unless you steal our designss/pass them off as your ownn, this is also a warning for those kind of peoplee), this was solely directed at Blurryy:
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Alsoo, why are you calling nudity pornn? You show the dakimakura my bestie drew as one of your exampless, buut that's... Not pornn?
It's literally nudityy, why are you calling it porn when it's nott? What is your logicc?
Anywayy, continuing onn:
The "several userss" Blurry mentioned is his friend Cultc0ree (who has stolen 5 of my OCs aand has tried to slander my name beforee), aand his fans that contacted mee, who were either proshipperss, nsfw accounts that posted clopping (MLP Nsfww)/irl nsfww/yiff (furry nsfww), or bothh. One of which had reposted/supported bad dragonn, a zoophilic companyy... That kind of stuff makes me uncomfyy, of course I'd block those kind of people who post that stufff:
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Due to the bad experiences I had with his fanss, I'm not in the furry fandom anymoree. I don't like drawing furries much unless it's my comfort characterr (more on that laterr). I still draw furries/anthro from time to timee, just not as much as I used tooo
Alsoo, Blurry fails to mention what happened after the callout post was madee, that being his father had threatened to dox me and a minor just 'cause I called him outt (shown heree and heree), aand he did nothing about itt, nor does he ever mention his own behavior towards mee
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It's also ironic that Blurry says I stalk himm, when he's stalked both me and Mobcrit beforee. Blurry wouldn't know about this blog if he hadn't stalked my following on my alt accountt (which was privatee, my followingg, not my altt), as the blog isn't searchablee:
This is a blog made by the two authors of the Blurry docc, the blog isn't complete yett (as you can seee), buut it's a critique blog for Blurry's loree, like Mobcrit iss
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Basicallyy, tumblr had a glitch that had marked your followers private for you in your settingss, buut had made them public on your profilee, aand that's how Blurry had found itt. It's not searchablee, he wouldn't have found it any other wayy
Anywayy, Blurry claims that me holding him accountable for his behavior (referring to my response post from the Blurry docc) is gaslighting according to himm, whichh... Holding someone accountable for their behavior isn't gaslightingg? Huhh??:
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As welll, recentlyy, after Cags on Mobcrit posted an ask with someone saying people should rewrite Mob's FON loree, Blurry came into my DMs threatening su*cide and saying Cagney was attacking him 'cause the people on Mobcrit don't like his workk (He thinks I run Mobcrit when I'm just their archivistt, this has been stated multiple times on the blog itselff) ... He conveniently left this out of his docc:
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What prompted that convoo, was that Blurry got mad that Cagney on Mobcrit proposed an idea to rewrite Mob's FON loree... Notice how I said MOB'S and not Blurry'ss, completely missing the meaning of the postt:
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Cagney's talking about Mob's lore heree, not Blurry'ss. Blurry just can't understand that some people don't like his workk. You have to expect that kind of thing when you post your work so that people can see itt (Oh yeahh, he also calls that "bullyingg" sooo-)
Blurry had also accused me of gaslighting 'cause I had responded to a joke Cagney made (that Blurry gets no maidenss) by joking about it furtherr, whichh... The fact that you're getting upset over a stupid meme kind of confirms that at this pointt-
Anywayy, here was the response to the joke Cags made in questionn:
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Aaand here was Blurry calling it gaslightingg:
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Alsoo, he had lied to me about him not following NSFW accountss, aand I had called him out on it in that same convoo, as he was following Mob's NSFW account on twitter with his rebranded accountt, which he conveniently left out of his docc. He tried to lie and say that he had followed aand unfollowedd, buut that's a total liee, 'cause the screenshot shown was taken just before Mob deleted the account due to minors following itt:
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Heree, he was acting like he was the main victimm, which he also left out of his docc:
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Throughout this conversation there were multiple times in which Blurry was saying I was gaslighting himm... When I was holding him accountable for his behaviorr (aand noo, he hadn't apologized for making fun of my typing quirkk, he had lied in his "apologyy", as you guys already knoww:
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Another thing to add onn, Blurry claimed I had "stolen an OC", when I actually hadn'tt:
(Notee, I was mad that Mob sold the original Deramu and other Sassy's Palace characters behind people's backss, lying to me that she said she wouldn't sell them at the timee. The new owner is a supporter/friend of Mob's and compared Mobcrit's critiques to school shooterss. This is also literally public infoo)
Also nooo, I never talked to him about this characterr, don't know where he got that fromm:
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Mob had actually given me the OC during the recent chat she had with me when I got the rights to use the plants for Plantae backk (this is also public infoo, it's literally in the Mobcrit archivee), aand Mob had approved of the changes I had made to him after she gave him to mee:
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Original design on the leftt, my redesign on the rightt, I liked it 'cause I thought it looked like my comfort characterr, hence the namee:
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Anywayy, yeahh, that's not theftt, I literally got this OC for free along with my rights for the plantss. This is literally public infoo, I don't know why it was even mentioned in the doc in the first place since it has nothing to do with Blurry at alll
Mobcrit's probably gonna reblog this anywayy, buut there was some blatant lies that Blurry had said about them that just aren't truee (claiming the admins of Mobcrit were transphobic when in reality they were calling out people for their transphobia/using xenogenderss), also Blurry defends Mob in this specific part of the document as welll, mmm
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cerealmonster15 · 2 months
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[background template source!]
hmm yknow what. maybe i was supposed to describe the unique magic in that bottom box. oh well teehee!!!!!
updated references for twst rsa ocs Char and Dañarte!!!!! for now. i'll add them to artfight soon!!! I was gonna do another one for Dañarte's Scarabia Era but I worked on these all week.... so i'll just do that one separately sometime maybe lol. anyway i've posted about these guys a lot as u can see from the tags i gave them on my blog, BUT my main origin post about their soap opera lore is really long and intimidating to read.... I have a shorter lore post here, but JFKSJLDJFKLDS.... finding these templates made nice, more condensed intros for them lol. and I [slightly] updated their looks so they aren't just carbon copies of what the seven dwarf characters are wearing!!!! but i'm bad at clothing design so i didn't really change them much!!!!
also i tried to be careful but my handwriting is Bad so i'll retype the info / talk more under the cut.
First guy: CHAR
Age: 18
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Birthday: March 19
Class: 3-C
Club: Fencing [does rsa have a fencing club. idk. they do now.]
Height: 175 cm
Hobby: Horseback Riding
Homeland: Shaftlands
Likes: Arts & Crafts, Shellfish
Dislikes: Keeping Secrets, Beets
Unique Magic: Unknown [I haven't decided one for him yet, and I may simply make him a late bloomer who hasn't discovered his yet lol]
Extra info:
Favorite Stones: Pink Opal & Chrysoberyl
Older Cousin to Dañarte
Long-lost childhood friend + new love interest to Cater
Source Character: Prince Charming from Cinderella
Second guy: Dañarte*
Age: 17
Best Subject: Ancient Magic
Birthday: February 13
Class: 2-C
Club: Equestrian Club
Height: 182 cm
Hobby: Writing Speeches
Homeland: Shaftlands
Likes: Planning, Grain bowls
Dislikes: Tenderhearted people, Undercooked meat
Unique Magic: Kiss of Frost: He kisses something or someone and temporarily freezes them ICY STYLE!!!!! or something like that. idk it doesn't kill people[???? maybe it could. idk.] but it don't feel good. Perhaps the area of frost can vary as well, like a small smooch spot vs spreading through the whole body? We gotta workshop it a bit more I'll get back to u on that someday. maybe.
Extra info:
Favorite Stone: Apatite
Char's younger cousin
"Love interest" to Cater + later on, Jamil...
Source Character: Hans from Frozen
RSA -> NRC -> Scarabia [He gets expelled and/or leaves RSA for whatever reason, I still haven't come up w/that part LOL... and ends up at NRC post breakup with Cater and gets sorted into Scarabia.]
* Disclaimer bc I feel the need to point out whenever I bring him up about his name lol- Dañarte isn't truly a name, it's just a spanish verb that's like "to hurt you". his character literally spawned from a convo I was having with a friend when I was trying to think of a name for Char, and something I said got autocorrected to Dañarte, and we made jokes about an evil princely character... so he became his own thing and I just kept that as his name lol.
anyway. i like talking about them but i also get shy and embarrassed about it klfjslfjks. also i probs did not draw them to scale bc life is hard. so are colors. i went very basic bc im scared but im trying to remember how colors work again in our year 2024 or whatever. WAHOO FUNNY LITTLE GUYS!!!!
shoutout to op of this template [@unfinished-projects-galore] making me sit here and consider the lives of these boys a lil more w/that bio layout. i was tempted to put summoning as Char's best class but WHAT do they summon. tell me idia what does that MEAN - jk it's probably like how juice bb summons cauldrons lol. I also considered Potionology for Dañarte but I think he'd like stuff like history and all that jazz and older [perhaps FORBIDDEN] ways of doing things.
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triskhellion · 10 months
Text
Thunder
Rated: Explicit (12K)
Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, minor OCs
Tags: POV Derek, Alpha Derek, Werefox/Thunder Kitsune Stiles, Post-Nogitsune, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Alternate Universe, Past Derek/Kate, Hale Fire, Violence, Some canon events but often with different timelines, outcomes or other details, Full Shifts, Derek is from NY, Stiles Leave Beacon Hills, Stiles Has a Fake Name, Depression, Getting Together, Self-Lubrication, Rough Sex, Knotting, Biting, Claiming, Cuddling, Various Sex Acts, Mates Derek/Stiles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Music
Summary: The one in rural Montana where two strangers — a depressed, lonely Alpha Derek and a haunted post-Nogitsune Werefox/Thunder Kitsune Stiles — leave everything behind and end up finding each other.
Soundtrack. (Every section has lines from 2 songs. A reverse songfic? The story mostly came first and the music chosen to fit it, lol. I recommend at least listening to track #1, "Roscoe." 😉)
Mead Moons prompts: Claiming, Full Moon, Hay, Hot & Thunder. @sterek-and-stuff-events
Sterek Weekly prompt: Attract (also Midnight & Clothes.)
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Shadow thrown from light unknown, calling on the hearts. To challenge the alive and summon the asleep.
Oh, they’re a little like you, they’re a little like me.
The first time he laid eyes on the fox it was an afternoon towards the end of May and Derek knew nothing other than that the hardware store, Rock Creek Lumber, had a new stock boy. One that he’d never seen around before. 
Not that he spent a whole lot of time around other folks, but he’d been here long enough, getting on 5 years now, to recognize the locals. Derek didn’t notice him in a back corner at first, was too busy mumbling to himself while looking for the right screws for the section of fence he needed to fix, but then he turned around and they locked eyes. There was an intense and puzzled expression on the kid’s face.
Although “kid” didn’t seen quite right. He was young — probably two or three years out of high school, maybe four — but there were dark circles under his whiskey brown eyes that made him seem older. Haunted. Knowing. Derek could see wiry muscle layered over his slender frame under the snug black company T-shirt.
He wasn’t gaunt, but much of the softness he’d once possessed had clearly been stripped away. There was a sharpness to him. High cheekbones and almost a point at the tips of his ears. The angles of his posture; a tilt to his head and hips and the jutting elbows leading to long fingers tightly clasped against his chest. In his clever eyes. 
Both of them seemed to realize they’d been staring at the same time, Derek saying “Uh, howdy” and the stock boy straightening up and asking if he needed help finding anything. 
“Looking for a screw,” he said, after tearing his eyes away and scanning the aisle again. He was already groaning internally when the words were halfway out of his mouth and the new guy — Sean his name tag proclaimed at another glance — snorted before asking what kind while trying to keep a straight face. 
Once the damn things had finally been located Derek moved on to the other couple-three things he needed this time. He caught Sean watching him a few times more and sighed, frowning with concern. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to men — so was he — but it could be dangerous to be so obvious about it out here.
He didn’t look back after Leann rang him up and he headed for the door, but he felt the prickle of eyes upon him, an itch between his shoulder blades, and he wanted to. Later that evening the thunder began.
Who would want to hear about the wanderings of my mind? This wasn’t supposed to be my life.
We’re not all the same in this town.
When his family, his pack, had moved from upstate New York to what he’d once thought a “small town” of 30,000 called Beacon Hills Derek had stayed behind, already into his sophomore year at college and living in his own apartment. A space-craving middle child with his own life. Some great aunt that no one knew about had passed away and left his mother a large plot of land with a slowly deteriorating, but surprisingly functional house that they’d set to fixing up.
He’d been surprised when Peter had gone too, his uncle always reveling in the cosmopolitan, but apparently the territory was special. Something about a big old magic tree. Derek’s eyes would glaze over once he got going.
Yeah, it turned out the place was “special” all right. Whatever woke up again after Great Aunt Hilda died started calling all manner of supernaturals, often of an unfriendly sort. That in itself likely would’ve been manageable until they figured out how to shut the damn beacon (har de har) off again, but with “animal attacks” and “mysterious deaths” on the rise so came Hunters. 
Derek visited the new Hale House on a handful of occasions, the last and longest time a few weeks the summer before his senior year of college. He’d been out at a bar, still thrilled at being old enough to enter one despite alcohol doing nothing to intoxicate him, when this pretty dirty blonde with a wicked grin came up to him. There was something unsettling about her, a harshness to some product she wore, but the older woman was all confidence and laughter and playful aggression and he was captivated and full of hormones, so they stumbled off attached at the face and took a rideshare to some sketchy motel. 
They hooked up three, maybe four times while he was there, Derek always taking care to shower with a scent neutralizer after because he didn’t want any shit from his family. And then he was heading back to New York, texting “Kay” or “K” or however she spelled it goodbye and setting his mind to the next few weeks of end-of-summer parties and the classes that were to start on their heels. 
A couple evenings later he was watching some new sitcom when he felt first his father and then his mother die in the span of what was probably a few minutes, but seemed much longer. He booked a flight as soon as he could, finally getting a hold of Laura before leaving for the airport early the next morning. She told him they’d been attacked, the house circled in mountain ash and set ablaze as she was on her way home.
Cora was okay, had been on the other side of where twin fires started and trapped their parents in between. She’d managed to escape out a window when a piece of debris or something must’ve disrupted the ash line. Peter though she’d found severely injured. Burned and pretty much unrecognizable, though still alive. 
That same afternoon during his layover in Seattle he felt her die too and ran to the bathroom retching and trying to hide his flashing eyes. It couldn’t be. Not his sister too. Not Laura. What the fuck was going on?! 
His wolf wanted to howl for the death of his closest packmate, the loss of two Alphas in two days, but he couldn’t. Not there in the airport. He couldn’t cry then for Laura and his parents either knowing that if he started he wouldn’t stop. Would fall apart.  
Derek forced himself to calm down enough, outwardly at least, to get on the second, mercifully short flight an hour later. Caught up in traffic he didn’t make it to Beacon Hills until after 7:00pm, driving the rental straight to the address that Laura — oh God, Laura — had given him. There he found his reportedly horrifically burned uncle looking very much like himself with the exception of some scars on the side of his neck and red eyes. 
Maybe if the first words he’d said to Derek had been “I’m so sorry” or “I didn’t mean to” things might’ve gone differently. Whether he didn’t because that would’ve been a lie — intentionally killing Laura while she was no doubt trying to care for him — or because he didn’t think he needed to apologize if he’d been truly out of his mind, Derek would never know. 
Because when Peter opened his mouth all that came out was a bunch of hand-waving about the “unfortunate situation,” a promise that things would be okay (things would never be “okay” again,) and how they were still family — only three of them left now — and had to stick together. Derek too, even though he had consorted with a Hunter, but not to worry, he had wasted no time taking care of the ones involved.
The shock of the last statement had been enough to snap him out of his overt, incandescent rage and Peter continued with how he’d recognized the scent of one of the lackeys and got him to spill on the others. After getting rid of Unger he took out the Argent Hunters — Kate — and her father, and then finally Reddick. 
Slowly, Derek approached him, the elder wolf likely assuming he’d been overcome by guilt or deep in a daze (both of which weren’t far behind) and expecting a show of submission to accept him as Alpha. Perhaps that he’d been seeking comfort or forgiveness. A hug.
He was starting to say something about expanding the pack when Derek tore out his throat. 
Roaring. Ringing. Static.
Afterward, when he came back to himself, he tried to find Cora, but she’d fled when Laura died. Her phone was likely in the smoldering ruins of the house and his own forgotten in NY, possibly in the cab. He did run into Christopher Argent, an incredibly tense encounter that consisted of tersely exchanged information and twitching claws and trigger fingers. 
Apparently, the Hunter hadn’t been aware of his sister’s plan, which his father had approved. Both were indeed dead. Peter was dead too because he killed Laura. No, Derek wasn’t staying. It brought some measure of relief to learn that based on a discovered journal the scheming had begun before his visit, that the attack wasn’t because of him somehow, but the guilt and shame, the disgust and self-hatred for having slept with someone so evil remained. 
Then he realized that that harsh scent clinging heavily to the human now in front of him, a scent he’d picked up slightly from her, must’ve been wolfsbane. Derek fell to his knees, thankfully not getting shot when the Hunter flinched, as guilt slammed back into him. He’d never actually encountered it before, the Hunters in New York having enough to deal with to bother supernaturals who weren’t causing harm, but he couldn’t stop wondering “what if?” 
What if he’d taken an interest in tagging along to the formal meetings with other packs and Hunter representatives with Laura and his mother? What if he hadn’t showered so thoroughly and someone brought it to his attention? It probably wouldn’t have changed anything other than him never leaving with her or him fucking her fewer times, but now he’d always wonder about the off chance that they might’ve been more alert. What if, what if, what if.
Cora, who he finally got in contact with after returning to NY, had much of the same feelings toward him herself once he haltingly explained what he’d found out. She was angry at everyone and everything, refusing to come back to him and eventually ending up in South America and joining a pack down there. They talked once, maybe twice a year. Confirmed the other was still alive and had some painful or awkward conversation (usually both) where she’d inevitably refer to Kate as his “psycho ex-girlfriend” and he’d want to shout that they were never dating, but didn’t. And that was that for the Hales.
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It’s such a long swim and now there is no sight of land.
So I’ve come here to wait for the end of it all.
As was pretty much always the case when he had a new project, Derek had to go back to the hardware store in between his regular visits to town every week or so for something he’d forgotten or only realized he needed after he'd started. And so two days later there he was again, being helped by Mike, the clean-shaven 50-something owner, but watched not so surreptitiously by Sean. Until the young man knocked into a display trying to keep him in view as he moved to go down another aisle, that is. 
Derek's lips curled ever so slightly upward as he pretended not to notice the scrambling to pick up or straighten the disarrayed products going on behind him. He could see Mike shaking his head in his peripheral vision, muttering under his breath about how maybe he should start drug testing. It took everything in him to keep from reacting to something he shouldn’t be able to hear. Poor Sean. People looking he was used to, but he’d never made a person run into something before as far as he knew. It was flattering. 
This time when he felt that keen gaze upon his back as he left he turned his head while stepping through the door, finding Sean absentmindedly holding a wrench with his lips gently parted. He nodded, causing the short-haired brunet to hastily duck his head like the length of metal had suddenly called his name. Derek swallowed thickly as he walked across the parking lot thinking of those cupid's bow lips.
It wasn't like he was immune to the younger man's charms either, from the broad shoulders to his cute, upturned nose. If Derek was someone — something — else he'd be up for having a go, see what those long fingers and that smart mouth (he just knew) could do. Find out what he looked like under his clothes and felt like with those nice long legs wrapped around him. Maybe lay out in the field and look up at the stars after and get to know each other.
But he wasn’t. 
Derek sighed as he climbed into his outfit, a gray, no-frills, 2-door 2017 F-350 with four wheel drive capable of towing a 3 horse trailer even on rough terrain. He tucked his new Texas Fence Fixer underneath the passenger seat and sought out some music to distract himself. 
The one thing he bothered to add to the truck after a year with only the radio was an after market stereo that also gave him the option of bluetooth, usb port or aux input. Derek used the latter, still having a working discman as he preferred to collect physical media when possible both for the higher sound quality and so he didn’t have to worry about things getting yanked from a streaming service for whatever reason. They were his.
Derek flipped through his cd booklet and slipped out The Trials of Van Occupanther by Midlake. The first track, fittingly titled “Roscoe,” was a new favorite of his and he’d been surprised to learn that the album had come out in 2006 because it sounded like something decades older. Like something his dad might’ve listened to as a kid driving around with his own father back in the 70s. A pang of grief ran through him. 
He pressed play and headed back, singing along and trying not to think of enthralling brown eyes and mole-spotted skin. 
“Ohh, and when the morning comes we will step outside. We will not find another man in sight. We like the newness, the newness of all, that has grown in our garden soaking for so lo-o-o-o-o-ong.”
The music helped for a while, but when Derek arrived he trudged inside the quiet house, new tool forgotten in the truck. He sank down onto the plain beige couch and cradled his head in his hands. When he eventually looked up his gaze was drawn to the painting hanging off-center across from him.
Despite the fact that one of the ways he brought in income was taking photographs of wildlife and the great outdoors he only had one piece of art on his otherwise bare walls and it wasn’t one of his. No, it was a relatively large painting of a ship sailing before a rocky outcrop in a storm, rough dark waves and lightning flashing, that he spied in a free pile on the side of the road after an estate sale. He’d found it compelling and all too relatable, even more so having been discarded after belonging to some now dead person. 
He imagined himself tossed overboard, battered by waves as he watched the imperiled, but infinitely preferable vessel get farther away. Trying to stay afloat, to breathe, between bouts of being knocked under. Into stone. Growing tired and heavy in the cold water. Limbs slowing. Water closing over his face for the last time. Sinking. 
Green eyes stared until everything was gray.
Bring me a day full of honest work and a roof that never leaks. I’ll be satisfied.
There’s a new wild feeling dancing in the air.
Derek never pretended that he’d always been from here, would even say where he’d come from (gasp, New York) should someone bother to ask, but this place seeped through his skin and into his bones. The mountains and the plains and the great, big sky. Like how the rain soaked into the thirsty earth in summer where it didn’t turn to gumbo. He didn’t have a “spread,” had no desire to play at being a rancher like most of his distant neighbors were, but he had a nice stretch of gently rolling prairie leading up to forest and the Beartooth Mountains. 
He’d wandered a while before deciding he wanted to buy land in rural Montana with most of his portion of the life insurance money. And now for something completely different, came John Cleese’s voice in his head. His dad had been a huge Monty Python fan. 
There’d been another plot that he stumbled across online that seemed particularly appealing, but there was no way in hell he was living somewhere named Argenta. He checked out a few other potentials, including in person, but then he saw this place and knew. Roscoe, unincorporated Carbon County, MT. Population 16 as of the most recent census. Well, it was 17 now. 
When he first arrived there’d been some months where he saddled up at the Grizzly Bar a good nine or ten times, desperate for the presence of other people despite his opposing desire to get away from it all. A city boy soothed by the chatter of the regulars and those who came out the 70-odd miles from Billings or even farther away just for a bite of fresh beef: steak, burgers, or prime rib. Talking about nothing at all with someone plunked down on a stool nearby or with the bartender serving him his usual whiskey ditch. Even just the sound of some bullshit calling itself news on the tv. Baseball or something.
There’d been other months where he hadn’t once darkened the doorway, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling or ghosting around his property, burning through his supplies until he got hungry enough to run down some burrowing critter or a speed goat if a herd came through and he happened to get lucky. Those suckers could run up to 55mph in short bursts if they saw you coming, fastest land animal in the hemisphere. The tawny, white marked ungulates with dark bits on their faces were also known as prairie goats or pronghorn antelopes despite being neither goats not antelopes, but something closer to the okapi and giraffes in Africa than anything else left alive. That was Montana for you.
It helped when he got his first horse, a gray gelding named Gable (say that 5 times fast) and had to get up to take care of another living being. A companion of sorts to spend time with and do stuff for and touch. Werewolves didn’t usually go feral without a pack like a lot of the stories said, but it certainly wasn’t good for them to be alone. 
He evened out to around once a week at the Grizzly, usually stopping by on his way to or from the closest real town (a whopping 1200-1800 folks depending on the season) for one thing or another. Red Lodge wasn’t far, about 20 miles away, but he often made a day of it. Maybe catch a movie at the one screen Roman Theater, which opened in 1917 and was the oldest continuously operating one in the state. Derek picked up all kinds of tidbits like that along with the slang and even the accent to a certain extent. 
He’d walk around and pass the flower shop he hadn’t felt a need to go into so far, maybe get something fancy from the bakery or one of the cafés. Buy random crap from the dollar store, supplies for building or maintenance from Rock Creek Lumber, and groceries from Beartooth Market or the farmer’s market. Takeout from the Chinese restaurant or the pizza shop or the taqueria (or occasionally all 3) for later. 
A handful of times a year he’d drive up to Billings for the things he couldn’t get closer. Less common cuisines, indie flicks, speciality items, etc. One night stands or even more furtive and frenetic hook ups, though he had’t bothered the last few times. He’d get eyes from the local ladies, some of them very much married, but he kept away from the free ones who he might’ve fancied as well. 
In all likelihood starting anything would mean either trying to have a relationship while hiding half of himself or winding up shot for being a monster and having to abandon his property, assuming he wasn’t killed by a particularly well-placed bullet. Even the guns had guns out here. Same issue with the local men he noticed were so inclined only with the addition of them almost certainly being Narnia-level closeted (wardrobed? whatever) and teaming with notions about manhood that would only cause pain. So that was that for love. Not like he deserved it anyway.
It wasn’t a bad life. He made enough to get by without dipping into the other money doing odd jobs and remote temp work along with his photography. There was breathtaking beauty and all sorts of projects to keep his hands busy and his body active. Responsibility and enjoyment interacting with the horses and books to occupy his mind at least some of the time.
Yeah, that’s what he told himself anyway. It was true enough on the surface, but underneath it all he had an emptiness inside bigger than the sky.
A sky which was now, from the sound of it, soon threatening to dump a river’s worth of water on his head despite there not being a mass of dark, heavy rainclouds anywhere in sight. Only a smattering of wispy ones on a mostly sunny day. What in the world?
Regardless, he quickly guided his spooked horses inside the stable barn, the bay mare sisters Ada and Jessie joining Gable a couple years ago. Three was a good number. Company for each other and able to keep him busy for at least a few hours a day, but manageable.
Derek stroked the agitated creatures in turns, along their necks and between their ears and over their snouts, speaking gentle nonsense to try to calm them. They all had white markings on their faces: Ada’s looking kind of like a leaf print, Gable’s like a streak of paint, and Jessie’s, unfortunately (or amusingly,) like a large bird shat on her forehead.
He was on edge himself from the strange wild power dancing in the air, nervous but also feeling alive, more present and in his body than he’d been in some time. He stayed with the horses as they trembled together until the unnatural thunder ceased. 
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When I look into your brown eyes I struggle to pull aside. I’m wanting you more within my life.
What sort of pressure, and what kind of force must there have been to drive you here?
It was over a week into July and Derek had made another half dozen trips or so to RC, always torn between wanting to see Sean, get to have a bit of a chat or a joke, and hoping that the mischievous younger man he found increasingly attractive didn’t have a shift that day. He could’ve just gone to Ace Hardware instead and avoided the situation altogether, but he couldn’t bear to stay away long. He’d skipped one week and ended up going twice the next, so he decided to just leave it up to fate. A rather dangerous prospect given his life so far. 
Twice he’d been absent when Derek was there, including the last time. It was just as well because he’d been in a foul mood, dirty and cursing and damp after slipping in mud and falling in a puddle on the way to town. It was hot as hell — mid-90s — and had just finished raining when he’d stopped to try helping some out-of-towners get unstuck.
They’d pulled off the nice paved road just beyond a chicken foot and into the fresh sludge beside it for some goddamn reason. It was a futile attempt even for his truck without having gravel or wood or something to let the car regain traction while being pulled. The group was waiting on a tow truck when he left.
He thought he caught movement in the back of the store out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned around there was nothing there. Nothing he could see anyway. What he could smell a few moments later was another matter entirely. 
Derek had no idea what it was, but it was rich and intoxicating and called to his wolf. His eyes flashed red involuntarily and it had startled him back under control. He hadn’t slipped like that in years and thankfully neither Leann up front nor the older man browsing at the end of the aisle were paying him any mind.
Cautiously, he took a couple deep breaths, but still couldn’t identify the scent, which was now just beginning to dissipate with the back door being open. Wait, when did that happen? Derek shook his head, trying to refocus his senses. His thoughts. Was he losing time? Imagining things? Or was something messing with him? 
He fell into into an uneasy vigilance. Whatever the cause something was going on and he felt the need to get out of there. He didn’t really have to get anything today anyway and did his best to casually head for the door, a goodbye called over his shoulder.
Derek cut his outing short and headed straight home, feeling nervous the whole drive back. He kept an eye and an ear and his nose out the rest of the day and into the wee hours until he finally conked out close to dawn. If there’d been anyone around they’d probably tell him he was overreacting, but it was precisely because there wasn’t anymore that he expected the worst. He stuck to the house and only ventured out to check on the horses. 
He didn’t let his guard down until a few days later, exhausted and feeling foolish. Of course that’s when they came.
Derek hadn’t noticed the diesel pickup until it was already coming up the driveway due to yet another sudden, noisy storm nearby. This one at least seemed more normal since it was actually raining. 
It was late in the evening and he’d hurried out the back door to circle around and scope them out. He didn’t want to risk his wolf eyes giving him away, so at first he could only make out that it was three figures that were probably male. Then they stepped into the light by his front door, the one on the left reaching out to knock as the others scanned around with hands in their jackets. 
Even before the wind changed direction it was clear from the way they moved and dressed that they weren’t cops. Not regular cops, cow cops, tree cops, feds, or any other kind. And then there it was again, the scent of wolfsbane. The knocking Hunter dropped his hand and joined the others in looking around. 
“Hale, we’re not here to harm you. We just need to talk. You have my word,”  the stocky, sandy-haired man shouted.
Derek snorted quietly. That one might be telling the truth at the moment, but what about the others? As if reading his mind, the same 30-something guy — the actual leader or a decoy? — nudged the taller men who were now on either side of him. He could practically feel them eye-rolling from here, but they too made the same assurances if with more hesitation. 
Finally, the first man mentioned the reason for their visit. They’d tracked a dangerous creature to this area, a killer of several people and likely the cause of the freakish weather. Some kind of kitsune.
Derek’s eyebrows flew up. Now that was interesting and perhaps worth the risk. He might not have more than a passing acquaintance with anyone, but he didn’t want to just sit back and watch folks get slaughtered.
He didn’t want to get pumped full of wolfsbane either so he made a point of crunching the gravel beneath his feet as he slowly started to approach. The guy on the right, mid-20s with a narrow face and long, dark hair, still whirled around with his gun raised and Derek made sure to keep his own truck between him and them. The talker hissed at the man, who lowered the weapon somewhat. They stood sizing  each other up and ignoring the rain for few moments before Talker asked if he knew the whereabouts of a recent arrival. 
After a couple interjections from Young Gun they gave a pretty solid description: A 20 year old white man, 5’10”, with short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and moles on his face. Last seen in Red Lodge.
“Huh,” he muttered, pretending to search his memory even as his stomach plummeted. 
Maybe Derek was being irrational and letting his crush or whatever it was affect his judgement, but he just couldn’t believe that Sean, which was likely not his real name, was running around murdering people all willy-nilly. Not without some type of proof beyond the word of Hunters. There was something in his past, a sense that he’d been touched by darkness, but he didn’t seem like a source of it himself.
Oh and you’re such a great judge of character? his inner critic said in Cora’s voice. Heh. Well, he had picked up something unsettling about her. It’s just that he was going through life as a typical college student back then and thought it was in a “might get super insulting or jealous and controlling“ kind of way and not a “genocidal and will kill your family for fun because she thinks you’re abominations yet will still fuck you” kind of way. 
He clenched his jaw minutely and then looked Talker in the eye.
“Sorry, I don’t know where he is,” he stated firmly, which was entirely true. Derek knew where he’d been, but he had no idea where he was now or where he would be. Obviously, if they weren’t just waiting to follow him from work or something Sean was already aware that they were here. Maybe there’d even been some kind of confrontation. 
Once again his insides flipped at the thought. Sean could be injured. Or long gone and never to be seen again. 
The third man, a lanky grizzled 40-ish blond who’d been silently watching the proceedings, narrowed his eyes. 
“If you’re hiding this monster, Hale—“ he began, before being cut off.
“Surely, he knows better than that,” Talker said, smiling with too many teeth. He reached into his pocket, opened his wallet, and wedged a business card in the door jamb. “Well, if you do see him, give us a call.” 
“You betcha,” Derek said mildly, lying to his face. He felt a moments’ amusement at finally using the ubiquitous phrase. The Hunters started walking towards their truck and he took that as his cue to back away, never taking his eyes off of them. 
“We’ll be seeing you,” Young Gun called with a sneer before climbing in the driver’s seat. 
Well that was ominous. He didn’t respond and waited until they we were well down the road before going back inside, throwing the card straight in the trash. Even if it turned out that the stock boy did need to be…to be neutralized Derek would be damned before handing him over to the likes of them. 
But now he had to worry about Hunters knowing about him — and how exactly did that happen? — and he was alone and vulnerable. Couldn’t he catch a break? He sighed heavily. 
Derek thought about running, but a lot of his money was tied up in the land. He’d settled in and accumulated stuff. Had horses. The idea of starting all over yet again was not just daunting, but soul-destroying. Enraging. Overwhelming. Impossible.
And then what, just wait for the next time? Spend the rest of his life as he’d just done the previous few days; stressed out, on high alert, and looking over his shoulder? Clinging to this scrap of existence? He was tired. Beyond tired.
The odds weren’t great to say the least, 3 vs 1 assuming they were weren’t more of them lurking around, but Derek wasn’t going anywhere. One way or another he was done. Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d be particularly incompetent and poorly trained. Yeah right. Maybe he could take one or more of them down with him. That was more likely.
The next morning he made sure the horses had access to extra feed and water and called up the farm supply store in Roberts, asking the manager, Wes, if he’d be willing to do him a favor. To call if he didn’t hear from Derek by noon every other day for the next while and if he didn’t by the time the store closed at 6pm to come out and check on the horses. Charge anything he saw fit to his account. The generally jovial middle-aged former linesman listened quietly until he was done. 
“You got some type of trouble, Hale?” he asked, gruff with concern. 
“Could be,” Derek replied numbly. He thanked Wes and hung up without elaborating.
The following night there was another storm, brief, but closer and much more violent than before. A truly awesome display in every sense of the word, bolts of colorful orange lightning flashing when he peeked out before heeding the urge to keep away. When he was sure it was over he brought treats out for poor Ada, Jessie, and Gable. 
The next time Derek went to town a couple afternoons later he passed by the hardware store, but didn’t stop in case he or it was being watched. It was no surprise, but when he saw the Help Wanted sign in the window his left hand clenched into a fist, the tips of his claws piercing skin until blood dripped onto his denim clad knee or down to the floorboard. He wondered where Sean went. If he was even still alive now.
That evening Derek was at the Grizzly flipping through an abandoned copy of the weekly regional newspaper — July 15th, today’s edition — when he saw that three men had been found dead yesterday. Out-of-towners from California who had all managed to get electrocuted wandering around a field by Roscoe. A freak weather occurrence the night before. Huh.
Well that takes care of that problem. There were no pictures of the deceased and he would follow up on the story to make sure, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t, in fact, be seeing those Hunters around. As for what else was going on, he guessed he’d have to wait and see.
Follow me down a fox hole in the ground. Don’t delay.
Everything is moving so fast. I am unlimited.
The full moon fell on another scorcher two days later, the air still warm and muggy a couple hours after the sun finally deigned to set around 9:00pm. Derek was tending to his horses, waiting until the temperature wasn’t sweltering anymore, but still sweating through his shirt after mucking out their stalls. Putting out fresh straw and climbing up into the hayloft and back down again multiple times. He wanted to have bales ready for tomorrow and maybe the following day and gave his interested audience a snack of hay and apples as well. 
Derek wasn’t sure if he was gonna stay close tonight or go ranging once the moon was in full effect shortly before midnight. The Hunters were gone (he’d confirmed it online that morning) and he hadn’t been up to it the previous month, so he was leaning toward going out for a bit and seeing how it went. He felt the moment when the alignment occurred, the moon’s power calling to his blood, to his wolf, who responded with an interested, but rather mild wag of its metaphorical tail. 
Derek sighed remembering how exhilarated he used to be, champing at the bit to run wild and reveling in his full shift. I should be grateful I feel anything at all these days. He finished up and was petting Ada goodbye when he heard the clock in the house strike midnight. It was another free box find, beat up, but with a functional pendulum, which he liked since he could know what time it was from any of the buildings on his property and a good chunk of the land without having to wear a watch. It could be silenced at night or whenever else he wished otherwise it would’ve ended up back in a pile.  
On the seventh chime the lights inside the barn started flickering and that strange energy was in the air again, full of wild, dangerous potential. There was a moment of laden silence and then something moved in the brush outside. Derek’s hair stood on end. 
He looked at his nervously whinnying horses and was glad that he’d been waiting until the check-in tomorrow to tell Wes not to bother with them anymore instead of calling him today. They would hopefully survive this even if he didn’t. He took a deep breath and walked into the night.
Lightning flashed high in the sky, confined to the rapidly congregating clouds for now, but Derek cringed nonetheless. A human-shaped shadow materialized from the darkness beyond the floodlights on the other side of the building, otherworldly eyes glowing a burnt orange. Moments later Sean was sauntering around the outskirts of the illuminated sphere wearing a sharp-fanged grin, wind blowing his not-quite-as-short hair as it whipped around and behind him. 
Instead of relaxing at the mostly familiar face that he’d spent weeks daydreaming about Derek tensed even more, wondering if Sean thought he’d helped those Hunters. Or if they were actually right about him and he’d come to finish off his prey. Derek couldn’t think of another reason why he’d be here like this. At this time of night, looking like that. His wolf was still and alert.
He had increased strength from the moon, but he couldn’t fight lightning. Honestly, without the animosity he reserved for Hunters he didn’t really want to at this point. He was tired. Of the isolation and loneliness, even with his horses. The grief and guilt and pain. Of living. The emptiness that was gonna swallow him whole some day anyway. Even as the rest of him still rebelled at the idea there was a rather large part of him that felt relieved while staring death in the face. 
The air stilled again momentarily and Derek closed his red eyes, breathing deeply as that intoxicating scent reached his nose for a second time. The scent of Sean. A final mystery solved as he waited for the end. At least it should be quick.
Oh, the fox came for him all right, but not at all in the way he’d expected. Derek kept his eyes closed even as footsteps raced toward him and moments later a body was colliding with his. The next thing he knew he was laid out on the ground, air knocked from his lungs and flat on his back with Sean straddling him. Purring. 
To say he was shocked was an understatement. Shocked, but starting to get turned on.
Hands planted on his chest, Sean leaned forward and sniffed at his neck, giving it a lick and sounding pleased when increased arousal flooded through him. He licked some more and nipped at Derek’s jaw, Inhaling again. The fox grinned mischievously and sat all the way down on his tenting crotch, grinding on him. Lying on top of him and rubbing himself all over, getting Derek all riled up.
He was content to let the fox have his way with him, but then in the blink of an eye Sean was standing and peering down at his confused form. Backing away towards the tall grass with swaying hips and a heavy-lidded gaze, licking his lips. Derek leapt to his feet, tracking every movement and matching step for step. He began to growl as Sean neared the rustling, wind-whipped vegetation and slowly turned around. Mine his wolf declared hungrily. The fox looked over his shoulder and smirked before taking off into the field.
Dirt flew as Derek tore after him, beta-shifted as he crashed through the grass. It was tall, but not enough to hide someone of their heights, yet he couldn’t see even a head floating above it. With the erratic wind still blowing it was also hard to discern that movement from one caused by someone ducked and passing through. He was going to have to rely on his hearing and smell, which were superior in wolf form. Quickly he stripped down and shifted completely, setting off again. 
Lightning flashed again, thunder deafening, and he snapped his jaws at the sky. He dropped his muzzle to the ground, sniffing for where the fox had touched the earth since he couldn’t get a good scent from the air. He came across the trail and sped along it, that unique aroma growing stronger. Derek burst into a small bare patch of land where the scent was concentrated, but instead of catching Sean he only found a pile of discarded clothing. Clever. Despite his frustration he was impressed. Either he’s crawling around naked on his hands and knees, which is entirely possible — the thought went straight to his cock  — or he’s a shifter too.
Derek was betting on the latter and this time he also looked for paw prints and snapped stalks lower down while trying to move quietly himself. During a break in the distracting weather, which seemed to be winding down, he heard what sounded like the brief tangling of a smaller animal up ahead. Stalking closer he saw a glimpse of brightness in the moonlight and rushed forward. The fox gekkered and started running again, Derek howling in pursuit. 
Twisting and turning they darted through the drying blades of grass, his muzzle nearly touching a tail or leg on more than one occasion. Then Sean shot out into open ground, Derek too close behind to successfully double back to the more advantageous environment. His quarry in full sight with no where to hide he put on another burst of speed and began to gain on the other shifter, nostrils flaring at the musky scent. Earthy and sweet. Derek wanted to roll in it, but he had to catch him first.
Closer and closer he came and he could see more clearly that Sean was a beautiful multicolored fox, bright orange and black with patches of what might’ve been gray or silver. He had every intention of finding out later in the daylight. Finally, he deemed it near enough for a good tackle and he leapt, carefully landing over the wily creature and immediately dropping his weight on top of him. Derek took the scruff of his wiggling prey in his jaws and clamped down, but didn’t break the skin as the fox panted and whined beneath him. Mine.
His wolf was rearing to go, the overwhelming urge to thrust and bite and claim, but there was no way he could fuck the much smaller animal even if he’d wanted to. Thankfully, Sean began shifting back, thick, fluffy fur receding and becoming an expanse of dotted skin as he rapidly grew in size. Derek followed suit and soon he was pressed against the younger man, still gripping the skin of his neck in his mouth. He replaced his teeth with a firm, possessive hand and used his other arm to push himself upward to view what was his. 
Panting with arousal as much as exertion now, Sean rested low on his forearms and knees and spread his legs in clear invitation. The youth glistened between his thighs and Derek ran two fingers there before sliding up to his sopping wet hole and the source of the richer ambrosial scent. Groaning, he slipped one and then two digits inside Sean’s tight heat, trying to give him some measure of prep before mounting him as his wolf demanded to do. 
The impatient shifter whined and growled, bucking back on his fingers, which were now up to three. He turned his head and snapped at Derek, so he withdrew them taking the hint. If Sean was so desperate for his cock he was going to give it to him. Coating himself with the wondrous slick he lined himself up and pushed inside, hole fluttering around him as it worked to accommodate his girth. 
Draping over his back and eyes closed in pleasure Derek immediately began to thrust, wrapping an arm around Sean’s chest to hold him close as he balanced with the other. He ran that hand soothingly along the whimpering shifter’s flank as he pounded into him, too much wolf to be gentle now that he finally started. He adjusted his angle though and soon the breathy, higher pitched sounds became low, throaty moans and Sean dropped down to his shoulders, lifting his ass in offering for more. 
The fox tried to sneak a hand down to his cock, but Derek snarled and grabbed it, holding both hands down with his own. He thrusted harder, making him cry out and push back wantonly. Derek wanted him to cum from his cock alone, but he wasn’t cruel. If his fox couldn’t get there before him he would help things along.
When he started to knot, he took the back of Sean’s neck between his jaws again, an instinctual need to keep his mate in place. Whining and gasping the youth spread his legs even wider as Derek worked it in with short, jerky movements until he was locked inside. Growling lowly he switched to grinding and it wasn’t long before the fox tensed up, a piercing shout before rhythmic clenching began around his knot, the scent of cum hanging in the air.
Sean continued to milk him and then Derek was tipping over the edge himself, shooting his load deep within the otherwise lax body. Releasing the bruised skin to howl in triumph, his fangs then descended and he was clamping down once more, this time sinking into flesh and spilling blood to claim the writhing fox. Still coming as the budding connection snapped into place, he turned them sideways and began alternately licking the slowly healing wound and marking up the skin around it. Mine mine mate.
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Won’t you tell me how I will not feel so lonely?
Thought we were due for a change or two around this place.
As he came back down to earth from the high of their mating, their breaths slowing and heart rates returning to normal, his human self likewise returned more assertively to the fore as the animal receded into the background. The wolf was happy, calm, and satisfied, but the man began to fret and doubt even as he held on more tightly to the young man in his arms whose body he was still buried to the hilt inside. 
Did the fox want to be mated to him or had he just been expecting sex? And if he did was it only because his wilder, instinctual side was in control or was all of him truly onboard? Derek himself hadn't known he was actually going to bite him until right before it happened, though it was something his entirety wanted very much despite how he’d normally try to deny it. 
Before he could sink deeper into worrying about having tied the fox to him beyond the immediate way a hand crept back to rub the nape of neck. 
"Hi," whispered his mate, the first words spoken between them tonight. In something like two weeks now. 
"Hi," he whispered back. "You okay?" 
"More than," the fox chuckled weakly. "I could just hear you thinking so loudly " 
He noted the scent of content amusement, which dialed his concern down a notch. Still he took a deep breath. "About me…biting you…” 
"I wanted you to." 
"Yeah?" Derek asked softly, almost disbelieving. 
"...I came to you and initiated a chase on the full moon." 
He grinned at the snarky reply and mouthed at an earlobe, nipping it and grinding himself into Sean's prostate again. The fox moaned and turned his head to nip back at Derek's nose before continuing. 
"I might still be fairly new to all this, but I knew that much. That you would probably bite me if you felt... " There was a sudden shift in his scent. Uncertainty and a hint of guilt. "But you..." 
"I wanted you too. The moon is strong, yes, but if I truly wasn’t interested, didn’t want you, I could’ve made myself stay where I was. Walk the other way.” Derek felt his sigh of relief and inhaled contentment once more. Good. “So what brings you to Gopher Crotch, Montana?”
“I hadn’t heard that one yet,” Sean replied, laughing before growing quiet. Derek grimaced, chiding himself. 
“S’okay, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t even know why I asked. It just popped into my head and I guess my filter is pretty non-existent at the moment.” He sighed. “Folks end up out here and it’s rarely puppies and rainbows they’re coming from.” 
“Speaking from experience?”
“Yup.” 
The fox grabbed his left hand where it was idly running up and down his side and pulled Derek’s arm across him, intertwining their fingers and holding his hand against his chest.
After several moments he started to explain that he came here to try to learn to control his power in a sparsely populated area. He’d done a sacrificial ritual with some friends to save his father and a couple others, leaving himself vulnerable, and was possessed by a dark kitsune. The sadness evident when speaking of his friends grew thicker as he described the damage his hijacked body had done. Hurting and killing people. They finally managed to get rid of it when a werewolf friend bit him, but he ended up becoming some hybrid kitsune/fox shifter after.  
“The Nogitsune can’t be two things at once, but apparently I can. Or I don’t know, maybe it assumed I’d be a wolf and bounced before realizing. Maybe it was something it left behind that made me change into a fox after starting to turn. Or maybe it was just me.” The younger man shook his head and snorted.
“Who knows? Whatever the reason, it happened. I knew other shifters, mostly werewolves and a coyote. Had a kitsune friend too. But none who were both.”
He spoke of the distance and awkwardness between them after. The looks. His guilt and grief. The nightmares. And then how he accidentally shocked his father when he tried to wake him. 
“He survived. Recovered okay last I heard, but I-I couldn’t…” Sean trailed off, choking up.
“I know,” Derek said, squeezing his hand and waiting as he gathered himself.
“I once visited a great uncle out this side as a kid — not here, way more East — and after a few months on the road I thought of that. I had this old Jeep that belonged to my mom, named it Roscoe. There was no way it could make a trip like this, so I left it behind rather than have to ditch it somewhere in case some day…” His mate sighed. “So when I saw that on the map, well, I couldn’t help but stop nearby. Like it was sign.”
“I’m glad you did.” 
“Here I was about a week or so, got a job at RC, and then you come strolling on in. Immediately I was aware of you, drawn like a moth to a flame. I’d been…I’m not sure how to describe it, but like, buzzing inside from my power and eventually it’d grow until I’d have to let it out. But then I got this strange feeling of calmness with you there. And of course you were hot as fuck too.“
Derek blushed and grinned, dropping his face into the crook of his mate’s neck before responding. 
“I was drawn to you as well. Intrigued. I didn’t know what to do with that, figured you were one more thing — or person — that I couldn’t have. Every time I saw you I was attracted more and more…” he shook his head ruefully. “Couldn’t stay away. So each time I pulled up I’d hope you weren’t there, but then was happy when you were and disappointed when you weren’t.” 
The fox made a noise of amused commiseration. 
“Our animal sides can be on some crazy shit at times, but there are definitely others when the human just gets in the way and you have to let the fox, or wolf, lead.” He purred and rubbed himself back against Derek and he rumbled back, setting his teeth gently over the mating mark. 
“Apparently. Mine’s been pretty quiet for a while now, except sometimes when I’m hunting or if go running on the full moon. Not much for him to react to, you know? No pack, no other shifters nearby or even passing through recently. Even with the Hunters he was more in the background. Giving me information, but not trying to take point. 
“And then you were all over me and took off with that look in your eye and he came roaring awake.” Derek chuckled at the smug satisfaction emanating from the fox. “So I take it you knew I was a wolf right away?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Huh. I couldn’t pick up anything supernatural about you until tonight.” Shoulders shrugged against Derek’s own.
“It seems to be a kitsune thing. A defensive measure that keeps you hidden unless you consciously drop it or when you’re actively using your powers.” 
“Huh. And are fox abilities pretty much the same as wolves?”
“I think so, but sometimes weaker or stronger.”
“Hmm.” He was curious and looking forward to learning more about his mate. He knew that they existed, but had never actually known a fox shifter before. Or a kitsune. Both were significantly rarer than werewolves, at least in the States.
Derek figured it was his turn to share, so he gave a basic rundown of his own story. His lost family. How he stayed in New York when they moved away. The fire. Laura. Peter. He braced for judgement, if not for his naiveté with the Hunter then for killing his uncle, but the fox only turned their still clasped left hands over and kissed his palm. 
He mentioned his estranged little sister and how he’d been resigned to being alone. When he was done his mate was thrumming with anger.
“Fucking Hunters,” Sean said, bitterly. “If they’d stick to their supposed code it’d be one thing, but so many of them clearly don’t. I ran into some before here too, back in Beacon Hills—“
Derek froze, heart racing as his mind tried to process those words. Surely he hadn’t heard that right. Or it was some other place with the same name. There was no fucking way. He’d been able to tell his story with a certain amount of detachment, but he hadn’t spoken the name of that cursed place. Could hardly bear to think it. Laughter in a bar. His claws red. The smell of charred wood and melted plastic when he made himself see the house before he left.
A concerned voice calling out to him broke him out the spell.
“—okay? Hey, what’s wrong?” 
He swallowed several times trying to work the dryness from his throat. 
“Beacon Hills…California?”
“Yes…” Sean responded hesitantly.
“No fucking way,” he breathed. “That…That’s where my family moved.” Where they died.
There was a sharp inhale. 
“The house in the Preserve...There wasn’t much known about what happened. I hadn’t thought to connect the name because I didn’t know they were wolves.”
“Really? Your wolf friend never ran into Christopher Argent?”
“Allison’s dad? What does he have—oh my god! Her aunt and grandfather disappeared around that time. They were the Hunters?!”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit. No, Allison and her parents moved away soon after. They never knew about Scott. Some other dipshits came through a while later, tried to intimidate some of Satomi’s pack — she’s the Alpha who helped Scott with the wolf stuff. She and most of her pack live in Nevada, but a few were attending the county college for their veterinary program and noticed there was another wolf around, thank God. It was a lot to deal with on our own, trying to find actual information and keep him secret and in control.”
While his mate recounted throwing lacrosse balls at his packless friend the memory of Peter’s last words flashed in his head. He gasped as another piece of the puzzle slotted into place.  
“Was your friend also Bitten around the same time?”
“Yeah, we never found out who—“
“I think it was my uncle. He was saying something about expanding the pack right before I…I didn’t know. His Alpha instincts must’ve had free rein to just attack some kid like that.”
“Holy shit,” Sean repeated.
“Holy shit,” Derek agreed. He knew he was going to dwell on this revelation for a good while, want to know all the details and about the new wolf, but he didn’t want to start that now. This time was for them. He shoved his train of thought back on track to where they’d left off.
“So those three Hunters…”
“I didn’t know I was being tracked, but I tried to be careful. Moved around, kept an eye on the weather to try to blend in with forecasted storms, but I’d have to put on a light show every so often when there weren’t any. Obviously they caught up to me when I stayed here so long...such beautiful scenery and all,” he said flirtatiously before getting serious again.
“Fuckers ran me right off the road. Tried to run me over really. I heard them behind me in time, but they followed me off the shoulder and destroyed my dirt bike right after I bailed. I had just saved up enough to get it before I came here too,” he hissed angrily. 
“I hurt my leg and side when I landed so I ducked into an old shed nearby to try to buy some time to heal more. They taunted me outside, wouldn’t listen to me. Said no one ever escaped a nogistune before so I must still be possessed, but that even if I wasn’t I’d be an abomination anyway.”
Derek growled from deep within his chest and nuzzled the younger man. Fucking Hunters and their genocidal bullshit.
“When two of them were getting closer to the door I got small and foxy and crept out a hole by the ground in back. I guess they didn’t realize that I could shift too, so it took the other one a few moments to notice and react. Then I was running into the field, trying to find cover as they shot after me. They kept coming and I couldn’t run at my usual speed, so…” He shrugged. “Boom.”
He tightened his hold on his mate. Killing was rarely pleasant even if it was necessary or well deserved and he knew the fox already carried so much guilt from the lives his body was forced to take. 
“It was self-defense.”
“I know. I mean I’m not happy about it, but I don’t exactly feel bad either, especially since I heard one of them mention coming back for you after ‘taking care of their fox problem.’”
Derek closed his eyes and shuddered. He’d figured as much, but it was another thing to hear it for sure. It didn’t matter that he was minding his own business and not a threat to anyone. He wasn’t human and so shouldn’t exist. 
“Thank you,” he said, throat tight.
“De nada, mate.” 
Mate. He was thrilled to hear it out loud for the first time. 
“Oh hey, what’s your name? Other than Hale?”
“Derek,” he replied, amused that they’d gone this long without bothering to ask. ”And what’s yours? Not actually Sean I assume?” 
“Well…it’s Myeh-cheh-swaf. But I go by Stiles.”
“Nice to meet you, Stiles,” he said, voice low and syrupy, grinding into him again. Stiles giggled. 
“If you keep doing that we’re gonna be stuck out here forever, dude.”
“Not seeing the problem.” Derek grabbed an ass cheek and then gave it a playful spank. “And don’t call me ‘dude’. I ain’t been no city slicker in years,” he drawled with an exaggerated accent.
Stiles snorted and started squeezing his knot in retaliation, making Derek groan. He slipped a hand between them to feels where they were connected, trailing two fingers through the slick. The fox made a cute little noise.
“I have to say the whole, uh, getting wet thing was quite the surprise.”
“Mmm, I like it.”
“I can tell.” Derek could hear the smirk in his voice. “I bet you’ll be happy to know the first time it happened was the last time you came in to the store before things went to hell. You were all sweaty and dirty in that basically see-thru tank top looking like a walking wet dream. Then without any warning there was leaking happening. I froze and then ran to bathroom thinking I must’ve ate something off for lunch and was having some kind of problem.”
A belly laugh erupted out of Derek shaking them both. 
“I fell into a big muddy puddle trying to help some folks that were stuck. Took off my button-down to try to get the worst of the muck off and wiped myself down. I was annoyed as hell and lost in my head when I got there and then all of a sudden I smelled something amazing. Didn’t know what it was or where it was coming from.” 
“Yeah, that seems to be from my, uh, regular fox side. Which is totally a thing I just say now. Anyway, I kind of freaked out when I saw you turning and I guess I did something kitsune-ish so you wouldn’t notice me? But using my power meant the usual concealment stuff went away and you could smell my full scent. And, um, that.”
Ah, so that’s what happened. He refrained from mentioning his own freak out thinking he was either losing his mind or that something potentially bad was happening. The paranoia that ended up being warranted, but not because of him.
“It’s weird and I’m still getting used to it, but I have to admit it’s very convenient. I would’ve had to stop for lube or something last night otherwise.” 
Derek laughed more, imagining a glowing eyed Stiles followed by a miniature lightning storm stopping by the general store for some K-Y and Miss Ginny getting on the phone right after being all “I’m pretty sure the new boy down at RC is some kind of demon, but anyway I saw him buying a bottle of ‘you know what’ and I just have to wonder who for…”
“Mind sharing with the class?” Stiles asked curiously when he continued to crack himself up. Derek told him and then they were both dissolving into giggles, causing his now mostly soft cock and shrunken knot to finally slip out. Stiles made a soft whining sound and then stretched before turning toward him. They drank each other in face to face. 
“I figured you probably wouldn’t be small, and yeah, no way that was going in me dry, especially not having taken a cock before,” Stiles added, blushing, before snuggling up to him again.
Derek froze.
“Yeah, I’ve slept with some folks, but they all happened to be of the female persuasion. So, yeah. First guy.”
A pleased possessiveness flashed through him mostly — but not entirely — from his wolf, but then Derek frowned, feeling more than a little guilty.
“I was rough with you.”
Stiles pulled back to look him in the eye. “Again, I knew what I was getting into. Full moon, Alpha wolf. And I liked it. A whole lot.”
Derek hmmed. “And you’re not…hurt?”
“You weren’t that rough and I was, you know, ready for you. Sure, I was pretty sore at first right after because virgin ass plus knot even with everything, but just very slightly now. In a nice way. While my healing isn’t as fast as yours it’s still pretty quick.” 
He sighed in relief. 
“I guess I make up for it by running faster than you,” Stiles teased.
Derek huffed. “I seem to remember catching you.”
“I seem to remember letting you. Gotta stoke that Alpha ego.” 
There was no blip in the fox’s heart beat. That little shit. 
“Plus I wanted to get fucked already. You were…” Stiles sighed dreamily. “I wanted you so much.” 
Well then. 
“But if the Big Bad Wolf is still worried about traumatizing little ol’ me with an epic dicking and you want to give me an apology blow job or something to feel well and truly forgiven, I wouldn’t stop you…”
Derek laughed again. He’d already laughed more in past 10 minutes or so than he had in weeks. Laughed harder than in longer than he could remember. 
Agreeing that that was a great suggestion he rolled them over so that Stiles was on his back and then slid down his body, tasting the grass stained skin of his chest and abdomen and belly, venturing on until he reached his prize. Derek grasped the base of the still hardening cock and rumbled as he licked off the evidence of Stiles’ previous orgasm before he took it in his mouth and suckled the head. He was rewarded with louder moans of pleasure from his mate when he sunk further down, bobbing up and down shaft while reaching to fondle his balls with his other hand.
After a couple of minutes Derek gave the delicate sack one more squeeze and then moved his hand lower to gather slick from between soft inner thighs. The moans turned to gasps and when he pushed two fingers inside the fox’s quivering hole, jacking the shaft after pulling off to watch as his load trickled out along with fresh slick. Derek growled at the sight, thrusting faster and aiming for that sweet spot. 
When his mate was getting close he descended once more on the now leaking cock, continuing to finger him while engulfing him deep, until the tip was nestled in his throat. He made a humming sound and then Stiles was coming and crying out. Derek greedily swallowed his release and cleaned his cock until he was sensitive and whimpering. Grabbing him by the hips he then hoisted him up so that only his head and shoulders remained on the ground, tongue pressing against the furled entrance of the weakly moaning fox and lapping their mingled fluids until he was satisfied.
“Um, wow,” Stiles said breathlessly when he finally set him down.
“I want to fill you up again,” Derek rasped, his eyes a steady red as he kneeled between trembling thighs, stroking his own aching, eager cock. 
Stiles’ eyes flashed orange in response and he spread his legs wider, folding them up and holding himself exposed for Derek. So trusting and willing, this alluring and powerful creature who could blast him into next Tuesday, fry him to crisp and blow away the dust, but so readily submitted to him. Wanted him. His heart felt like it could burst. 
He crawled forward to bracket Stiles in his arms, leaving marks on his throat. Filling in some of those blank spaces that he couldn’t reach the last time. He rubbed his beard against the tanned skin, nuzzling and scenting him and when he couldn’t wait anymore he coated himself with slick and pushed in again with one steady motion, both of them moaning. Flush together and wrapped in heat, Derek closed his eyes and took a moment to just savor the feeling of being snug inside his mate. 
Affection and a sweet desire coursed through the bond and then Stiles was leaning up to kiss him, wrapping those long, strong legs around his waist. He started off slow and deep, rolling his hips sinuously as they explored each other’s mouths for the first time. Eventually he sped up, the fox’s writhing and little sounds spurring him on, and Derek held his gaze as he drove in faster and harder. 
Stiles’ eyes took on an eerie glow, the same one as before the chase. A darker shade than the previous flashing yet more shimmery. Uh-oh, here it co—
Lightning flashed high in the overcast sky, the boom of thunder only a split second behind. Startled, unhappy neighing sounded from the barn.
Derek shook his head at his sheepishly grinning mate. He adjusted his position to get use of an arm and hiked an ankle crossed at his lower back higher to rest over his shoulder. Then he spat in his hand and grasped Stiles’ cock now that enough time had passed to give his new favorite toy a break.
“Think you can manage to stop scaring my horses?” he asked with a smirk, jacking him. 
“Mmm…maybe with…the proper…motivation.” The pleasure drunk fox rubbed his other thigh against his side. Derek started thinking of all sorts of fun ways of training and testing his control. He nibbled at an earlobe and let go of his mate’s erection to twine their fingers together, pressing the backs of Stiles’ hands into the earth.
“Oh is that so?” 
“Mmhmm.”
He picked up the pace again and Stiles answered, rocking his hips in a matching rhythm. Hungrily they attacked each other with their mouths, licking, sucking, biting anywhere they could reach. The lightning ceased, but then it immediately started raining. 
Shaking with laughter they slowed but didn’t stop, grinding as the heavy droplets cooled their feverish skin. He took Stiles' face in both hands and kissed him deeply between giggles. As they ramped up again and his knot began to swell arms wrapped around to hook on his shoulders. It wasn’t long before claws were scratching down his back and when Stiles came he buried his fangs into Derek’s flesh, leaving a mating bite of his own between shoulder and neck. 
He whined from the delicious overload of sensations, thrusting erratically a half dozen times more before locking, teeth still embedded in him. Rain collected in the dips of their bodies and rivulets of water, sweat, blood, saliva, and cum ran off of them into the thirsty ground. 
When they were done — his knot going down more quickly the second round — they got up and ran naked and laughing toward the house, Stiles shifting halfway and taking off with a playful yip. Derek followed suit, howling as he tried and failed to close the distance. He was definitely gonna have to do some training himself, futile though it would probably be. If he could only arrange a chase long enough he bet that he could win on endurance. Wolves typically traveled much farther than foxes after all.
In the meantime, at least he knew his mate would take pity on him — or get horny enough — and let himself be caught sometimes. Not this time though.
When he reached the stoop at the side of the house the fox was casually lying there waiting for him with his tongue lolling out. Derek chuffed and nipped his muzzle before licking his right cheek and ear fondly. Little shit. Shifting back he turned the knob and held the door open for his mate to scamper into their home, following after with a grin bigger than the sky.
Come morning, miles along, gathered round, those remained. With bird in hand and a cry for the land, joy to gain.
We have all we need.
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Thanks for reading!
Here's the previous fic (unrelated) for this event/series: Second Chance Strays.
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ghouljams · 3 months
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hi if we're still sending in ur trademark tm, i think yours is how you write the "reader" in readerfic! when i first started reading your stuff one of my persistent thoughts was "hm, i don't think this is readerfic, i think this is oc insert fic in second person". and this was before i started seeing the ones where "you" have a name, like cowboy au, so it's just that noticeable. (ngl i got a good laugh when i finally read your blog desc and realized that was already written on there.) it's one of the main reasons why i read your stuff (the other reason is that you write good), because there was a handful of 2nd person oc-insert fics i read when i was younger that i loved so the way you do it is really nostalgic to me :')
oh and also i think your characterization is a big trademark of your writing! i actually don't know anything about cod (i just think the fic is hot) but i feel like i have such a clear image of the guys as characters after reading your stuff. i'm not saying i believe it's a canon understanding of them, but it's a CLEAR idea of who they are with you.
I always think of the "name" that my OCs are given in fic as similar to the callsign most readers have in CoDxreader fics. It's super common in the fandom for reader characters to have a nickname just so the author can avoid overusing "y/n"(which is also why I originally gave my darlings nicknames, because I hate using y/n)
It's fun hearing that my blog description continues to trip people up! Yes many of these pov characters are also OCs, I try to keep everything but personality vague though. I've even removed the one face claim post I had because it seemed to bother people, and I can't blame the folks that get tripped up by my, uh, rather niche approach to reader povs.
These are both lovely trademarks to be given, I've said it before and I'll say it again, I LOVE CHARACTERS!! I love writing about people and thinking about how different traits interact, I love characters. And I strive to be true to folks' character because I love them so much. If I wanted to write about someone else I would! I want to write about Ghost being a cowboy, so I better figure out how to make that happen and how his character would fit!
Anyway, I love you, thank you for sticking around through my weird povs and your not knowing anything about CoD. I respect that. I've read plenty of fic for fandoms I'm not part of just because it was good.
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black-suns-rim · 9 months
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Oc interactions
I know I've done a post similar to this in the past, but why not make another post like it again since I can't sleep and I have some funny oc stuff floating around in my head? These might be longer interactions, but not long enough to make a short story out of them.
And of course I have to start it off with everyone's favorite old fart prune, Peepa Roach
Peepa: -staring at the wall-
Kahn'shu: -looks at the wall, looks at him, looks back that the wall-
Kahn'shu: -disapointment in his voice- why?..
Peepa: because it's funny and this place has been dull. Plastering one of these on the wall gets people's attention. I don't care what kind of attention, what I do care though is their expression appon seeing it
Kahn'shu: -under his breath- you're a literal child...
Peepa: huh?! You saying something about me?!
Kahn'shu: -puts his hand on his shoulder- I said its time for breakfast
Peepa: ooo, can't wait to throw up the disgusting sluge they have for me this time
Black Momba: get up. I didn't hit you that hard
Nomad: -being dramatic to get out of sparing- I can't breathe! Everything hurts! I feel so cold!
Black Momba: -not falling for his dramatization- I will make sure everything hurts before your training is over. Then I will give you an ice bath and make you stay in it till all the ice has melted. I'll also have to tell Kub that you'd be too much in pain to join him today.
Nomad: -gets up- nevermind, I'm suddenly better
Black Momba: -smacks him on the back of his head-
Nomad: ow! What was that for?!
Black Momba: your dramatic ass.
Nomad: -sighs- with all due respect mom, why do I even have to train if I'm better than everyone in my age group? Better than most of my teachers?
Black Momba: until you beat me in training, you still have a lot to learn. It is one thing to be better than everyone else, but it is another thing to be arrogant because you are better than everyone else. -swings her combistick at him-
Nomad: -dodges. Runs at her with his combistick and jumps in the air to attack her-
Black Momba: -punches him in the gut-
Vic: no! No, no! We won't be doing that!
Nomad: -falls to the ground, gasping for air-
Black Momba: arrogance gets you killed. That is many young hunter's fatal mistake. The mistake of my brothers during our chiva... do not be arrogant. Keep yourself humble or you will get humbled either by me or someone else. -grabs Nomad by the arm and pulls him up to his feet-
Nomad: -coughing- noted...
《Dnd party hiking up a mountain train, being led by an elf》
Jas: you know, I could just push that elf off of the ledge right now with my telekinesis and make it look like he just slipped and fell to his death...
Raakz: that is horrible!... Do it.
Vic: no! No, no! We won't be doing that!
Jas: why? That light skin over there spat on me and he is an elf. No one cares about elves.
Vic: ....
Vic: are you racist towards elves?...
Jas: yeah. You just noticed? I fucking hate those pricks. They think they're so much better than everyone else.
Raakz: plus, that elf cheated us out of 50 pieces of good last night.
Jas: yeah, that too. Blamed us for cheating and had us kicked out of the tavern last night
Vic: is that why you guys were at the inn so late?... you know what, I don't think I even want to know what you two were up to knowing you.
Jas: -sighs- oh to see that elf fall to his death...
Raakz: how much you wanna bet that I can get him distracted enough to fall?
Jas: mmmh... 60 gold.
Raakz: alright
Vic: no!
Puffball: -is flying around the realms of sky, looking for a place to nap-
Puffball: -finds a nice place in the vault of knowledge and lays on a pile of memory lanterns-
Ziyigiho: -retuens to his studying space and finds puffball sleeping on his research-
Ziyigiho: ...you got to be kidding me... hey! Small one, get off of my lanterns. -nudges puffball-
Puffball: -continues sleeping-
Ziyigiho: -sighs and mutters- I swear it's always the chibis that sleep in the most uncomfortable places... -moves puffball off of the lanterns and places them on a stone beach close by-
Puffball: -wakes up and looks at Ziyigiho-
Ziyigiho: no... don't do it, I know what you're thinking. Don't do it!
Puffball: -starts honking like crazy-
Nomad and Raakz belongs to @thenomadclan
Vic belongs to @queenlybeastly
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