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actualbird · 2 years

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first let it be said that i am a giant advocate for polycules. everyone in the nxx should be holding hands.

with that out of the way. HELP I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT VYN/LUKE. it is now crucial for my mental health to pick up this dynamic put it in my mouth like a dog toy and bite with the ferocity necessary to break the little noisemaker. i came for luke but vyn came for ME and now i will never be free.

i don't just need them to hold hands. i need them to play mind games with each other your honor. i need both of them to be hyperaware of what nonsense is going on, analyze it and hide it behind knowing smiles. i need them to then discuss said findings and come at it from two different angles, i need to see the battle of academics and firsthand experience firsthand. i need them to have deep academic discussions about their medical fields. i need vyn to call luke out and have luke bite back with unexpected ferocity and accuracy. i want them to get into such weird niche conversations the other members can no longer follow. i want them to try and figure out what is UP with the other parties secrecy. i want vyn to say some peak horse girl shit and have lukes only point of reference to relate to the man be a mark from 2 years ago that went south. he had to tail the farrier and he now knows way too much about horse anatomy. i need luke to drink instant coffee in front of the man who got a 20 year old pu'erh cake from yunnan for the evening who is currently looking on in barely concealed horrified fascination.

tl;dr: bark bark bark

-💚

heyyo, greenheart! and also this anon who sent this ask MONTHS AGO but finally my vibes are Aligned To Talk About Vyn/Luke

GREENHEART R U PSYCHIC? AND/OR FOLLOW ME ALSO ON MY PRIV TWT? cuz just yesterday on my priv twt i briefly went mildly insane about vyn/luke and YEAH EXACTLY THEIR DYNAMIC IS SO INTERESTING TO ME

at first glance, vyn and luke seem like characters who are LEAGUES APART. but in my prev analysis, "the nxx boys and bad things", i realized a commonality when i made the diagram in there

vyn and luke are both on the active end of the spectrum, in terms of their behavior and tendencies towards their respective "bad thing" but i wont into that again cuz i already explain what i mean in the analysis itself

what i do wanna delve into is how this active-ness makes vyn and luke's dynamic so interesting. like, vyn likes being in control and uses his expertise of it with no holds barred. luke has a very clear "i'll do it myself" mindset in so many situations. in moments that matter for one reason or another, they dont idle, they act.

it's almost as if theyre both on the "offensive", so to speak

to make this clearer, i'll bring up the only thing ive written thus far that focuses on vyn and luke's dynamic (not ship but still i feel strongly about this): chapter 5 of "filler episodes of the lost gold"

as context for u, greenheart, this fic is all little inbetween scenes of the plot heavy event Mystery Of The Lost Gold that happened back in september. i very VERYYYYY MUCH RECCOMMEND u watch recordings of this event because up to this day, it's my fave tot event of all time

but yeah, in this chapter, vyn and luke hang out and it's vyn pov and i wanted to put vyn at a disadvantage but i know hes also such a perceptive and analytical person. and ive always had this feeling that of all the boys, vyn would be most cautious about luke. afterall, luke is new on the team. vyn hasnt known him as long as marius or artem. additionally, luke comes from a background of espionage. all this makes vyn wary about luke, makes vyn want to "figure luke out"

but heres the thing about luke: very often we fixate on his tank/combat abilities that we forget hes an investigator

luke, adept at solving puzzles, can easily perceive vyn just as vyn perceives him. i would even go as far to say that luke, sometimes, has the upper hand. cuz i think vyn approaches the unknown with this mindset of "what are the weakpoints?" so that he can leverage himself to a place of control

luke does that too but also hes an engineer and inventor. hes not looking just at weakpoints. to metaphorize, he looks at things in terms of taking it apart and seeing what each piece means.

all that is why that chapter ended up like that.

and all that to say the like, vyn and luke's dynamic (be it romantic ship or platonic interactions) is so so sOOOO FASCINATING TO ME BECAUSE THEYRE BOTH ACTIVE, theyre both PERCEPTIVE, but due to personality and background, that active perception is different enough to keep the other on their toes

vyn would call luke out on all his unhealthy and over excessive self destruction. luke would call vyn out acting as if the whole world will regard him only with cruelty. vyn and luke r deffo two characters that, once they come head to head, would push each other to confront things the other probably wouldve wished to leave alone.

dumb overthinking meta aside, their vibes are just so HILARIOUSLY DIFFERENT AND IT IS DELIGHTFUL TO ME

vyn: luke, what are you drinking?

luke: oh this? homemade energy drink! i call it "Raise The Roof!" haha

vyn: and what is it made of?

luke: uh. monster energy, red bull, and kool aid?

vyn, at a loss: no

alternately

luke: aw man, i passed out on my bed a few nights ago after a mission and got bloodstains all over my sheets and they wont wash out >:/

vyn: oh?

the next day, a delivery comes to luke's doorstep and it's SINFULLY HIGH THREADCOUNT SILKY SOFT SHEETS FROM SOME EUROPEAN COUNTRY

#greenheart!anon #asks #luke pearce #vyn richter #i was goin insane over vynluke on twt yesterday cuz of spicy vynluke arts i saw hAHKKJDBFKJDSF

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offbrandmercyplates · 4 years

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Best of wishes!!! I hope you get the job! Make sure to take time for yourself and destress before the call! -💚💚💚💚💚

I appreciate the well-wishes from everyone, and so I’m using this older ask to update y’all.

Unfortunately someone else got the job, so I’m kind of back to square one ^^’

I’m still working on the next page— sorry!! It’s been really hard to sit down and work these days. But i’m making progress, slowly but surely. Hoping that after this page is done I’ll have more inspiration to work on the next few pages.

#beespeaks #anon #greenhearts #job hunting is hard

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percywinchester27 · 2 years

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The new Mrs. Winchester (7)

Word count: 3.5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: None for this chapter, just fluff

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: This chapter is being posted early as a birthday present to my love, @greenheart-anon. You know I adore you! <3

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23 love ya!

The new Mrs. Winchester masterlist

You woke up too early, that funny feeling already in place in your stomach when you opened your eyes. After laying in bed for a few minutes, ears alert for every small noise, you ascertained that the room adjoining yours was empty. Finally, picking up your sweatshirt from the ground where you had flung it last night, you put it on and slid out of the bed. On your way out, you checked your reflection in the mirror, combing your hair to bring some semblance to it and desperately trying to reign in that bright-eyed look you were giving yourself. With every step towards the kitchen, that funny feeling increased. By the time you reached the threshold, it had compounded to the point of nausea.

Martha lingered by the stove, but you didn’t pay any attention to her, eyes heading straight to the small table in the corner. And sure enough, Sam sat there with a barely touched plate of breakfast before him, thumbing through the last pages of The Fountainhead. His brow furrowed, as his eyes scanned the page quickly. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, Mrs. Winchester!” Martha sang. “Come, come sit. We have pancakes today.”

Sam looked at you, put the book down, and said, “Toohey is such a piece of shit!”

“I know, right?” You grinned. “I hate that guy.”

“He’s definitely the vilest antagonist I’ve ever read,” said Sam, pushing the book away. “And I’ve seen my share of villains.”

“No, yeah, he’s a special variety of asshole,” you agreed. “I can’t believe you finished the whole thing in a single night.”

Sam smiled. “A lot can be achieved if you don’t sleep.”

Martha tutted as she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and a plate full of hot pancakes in front of you.

“Coffee, ma’am?”

“Yes, please,” you said gratefully.

It didn’t miss your attention that Martha pulled out a whole other pot to put your coffee on. You remembered her derogatory remarks about Sam’s Bali imported coffee.

Pouring gratuitous amounts of syrup over the pancakes, you asked. “Did you like the book?”

“I did,” said Sam, eyeing the quantity of your syrup with wary respect. “It’s very different. The author never demands your liking for the protagonist. I don’t recall reading a more detached protagonist than Roark.”

“That’s because Roark is, at least, partly inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. In our fraternity, his style is lauded for being revolutionary during the world war era when deconstructivism and factory architecture was rampant given the ease of construction and replication. But FLW wanted to design real buildings with personalities, dominating horizontal or vertical elements. They were engineering wonders for that time, huge cantilevers and bold facades. Personally, I think Roark’s design philosophy aligns with the Swiss-French modernist architect Le Corbusier a lot more, but it’s only a theory.”

Sam put his mug down, regarding you with some wonder. “You really know a lot about this kind of stuff.” He narrowed his eyes. “When you say ‘our fraternity…”

Feeling hot in the face, you told him about architecture school.

He seemed surprised. “So, you like modern architecture?”

“The opposite. I’m more of a heritage conservation and vernacular architecture person. I think we as humanity need to develop some sense of compassion for the earth and stop erecting huge concrete and glass monoliths just for show. We were meant to be the better species, but the more that we understood of the world, the more we decided to wreck it.”

It occurred to you that in the duration of the last five minutes, you had delivered not one but two passionate proclamations about architecture when actually no one but yourself cared about it. Sam had been politely listening and though his face betrayed none of that boredom, just an open invitation to continue, you knew you should stop talking.

Embarrassed, you reached for your cup and took a sip of the coffee. The next second, you spat it out, coughing violently. Sam was almost out of his chair, hovering over you, trying to hand you a glass of water.

“What on God’s green earth…” Peering down, you realised you had taken a sip out of Sam’s cup instead of yours. “This is disgusting.”

Sam tried hard to look offended but ended up smiling at your horrified expression.

“Why are you punishing yourself with this monstrosity?”

“Because it’s supposed to be healthy,” interjected Martha, jumping in on the opportunity to dunk on Sam’s coffee. “It tastes like shit.”

You couldn’t help but nod in agreement, drinking some more water in an effort to dispel the acrid taste.

Sam sighed, “Fine. It’s terrible. But it IS healthy.”

For someone, at least, two heads shorter than Sam, Martha sure got right into his face. “I tell you for months that the coffee is terrible and you deny it every day. Mrs. Winchester says it one time and suddenly the coffee is terrible.”

The tips of Sam’s ears turned red and he hurriedly crammed the last of his pancake in his mouth, swallowing it down with the rest of his shitty coffee.

“I have a meeting to take care of in the morning,” he said, getting up, “But what do you think of a house tour in the afternoon?”

You’d had several tours of the house by now, but there was no way you were declining the offer.

“I’d love that.”

He titled his head to the side, “It’s a deal, then.”

Thanking Martha for breakfast, he left you with your food. Watching him go, you observed his clothes closely- another full-sleeved shirt and loose sweat pants that drew attention to how tall and lean his body was, hinted at the toned musculature that must lay underneath it. You forcefully pulled yourself out of that thought. The clothes were simple, just like his room. Nothing fancy, nothing to attest for his obvious riches.

“I have hopes that you could convince him to ditch that coffee someday,” said Martha, going back to her pots and pans, but you barely paid attention, already dreaming of the afternoon.

*****

The knock came at 2:30 sharp. You tugged at the hem of your blouse, smoothening it and ran a hand over the jeans. The blouse was the first piece of non-formal clothing item you had pulled out of the wardrobe. After trying out and throwing back in multiple blouses for being either too much or too little, you had finally decided on this one– deep blue with puff sleeves and a round neckline, deep but not plunging. Pairing it with a delicate chain, you dabbed on some lip gloss.

At the sound, you jumped up from the sofa where you had spent the last hour nervously pondering whether Sam would really show up, you went to open the door.

Sam stood resting against the door frame, checking his phone and you allowed yourself a few stolen seconds to observe him. The meeting must have been formal because he wore part of a four-piece suit. He must’ve ditched the coat and the vest because right now, he stood only in trousers and a white shirt, with the top button undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His eyes roved over your face as the door opened, and it looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Sam offered his hand, not his arm like the other times, and said with a challenging smile, “shall we?”

You placed your fingers in his, savouring the rough grip when he closed them and led you forward. He’d always offered you his arm… sure, in the presence of other people… but this didn’t have to mean anything. Right?

“Let’s start with my favourite part then,” he said, leading you down the stairs and through the biggest door on the first floor.

“The library?”

“I spend most of my time here whenever I’m around.” He pointed at the desk that you had so lavishly claimed as your drawing spot by squatting right over it, never bothering to look through the drawers beyond your requirement of paper to see if the space was sacred to someone else. Sacred to him.

You ran your hand over the smooth tabletop, now that it was free of your usual litter, and noticed for the first time an etching towards the back corner– thin, jagged scratches that spelled out S.W. and D.W.

Realising what they must stand for, you snatched back your hand before Sam could notice. He had walked to the end of the bookshelves. “This right here,” he said, patting on the only glass-encased bookshelf, “is where you’ll find the first editions. Austen, Conon Doyle, Christie, Bronte, and I believe there’s a first edition for Harper Lee as well. My grandfather, Henry, had a fine taste in books. This one bookshelf alone is worth millions I’ve been told.”

The way he talked about his money like it belonged to someone else didn’t miss your attention as you eyed the titles on the bookshelf.

“I’ve never touched one,” said Sam. “Apparently, you’re not supposed to let moisture reach the pages, hence the special case. If you want the more accessible versions of the books, the three-dollar copies are on the first bookshelf.”

You smothered a giggle at his matter-of-fact tone.

He patiently explained the arrangement of the books and shelves. First genre-wise and then in the ascending order of the date of release. Of course, you had only perused through for a few poetry books, without bothering to understand the system.

After the library, he took you around his office which mostly stayed shut, followed by the corridors all lined with closed rooms. The mansion boasted of twelve bedrooms among other things, multiple offices, sitting rooms, and two kitchens– an almost professional equipped kitchen next to the dining room, and the smaller one next to the herb garden where Sam had his breakfast. For ease of maintenance, all of the first and second floors remained closed except for a few rooms, and only the third floor was inhabited. Three suites had been combined to accommodate the boarding staff on the same floor as yours, instead of the actual staff housing on the ground floor. The draft was particularly strong there and nobody deserved to spend nights shivering in the cold.

He took you around the gallery next, pointing out each painting of his ancestor and accompanying it with an anecdote only a family member would know. The exquisite jewelry in the showcases had belonged to so many generations of Campbells and Winchesters. Sam pointed out wryly that most of it was now yours to do whatever you deemed fit. That comment alone made you look away from the opulence.

“We’re through with all the open rooms,” he said, leading you into your kitchen. You realised belatedly how smoothly Sam had pulled out a chair for you. “I could take you around the unopened rooms, too– Jack carries a set of keys with him– but I should warn you about the dust and cobwebs.

“Mhmm.”

“So what do you think of the house?” He asked with a hint of apprehension in his voice, like a child showing his favourite toy, wanting it to be liked.

“You surely don’t need me to tell you that it’s an exquisite place.”

“Who better than you?” He looked at you through those long lashes and clear, clear eyes. “You understand what you see, give me your shrewd opinion.”

The simple dinner laid out in front consisted of chicken soup and spaghetti. You took the first sip, thinking through your words before speaking them.

“You have a beautiful home, Sam,” you said earnestly. “But it requires tender love instead of the makeover that everyone is trying to give it. The walls don’t need a revamp or a fancy paint job or ultra-modern interiors. This is a piece of heritage that can be restored to its former glory with little patience.”

A satisfied expression came over his face, as if you had said exactly what he wanted to hear. “I thought so, too. But I’m not around enough to make sure it’s done right..” He finished his soup before adding, “Any civil work that happens here from now on will require your legal permission anyway. Would you like to oversee the restoration project?”

“Me?” You squeaked, unable to believe your ears.

“Yes, you,” he smiled. “When I found out in the morning that this is what you studied, I hoped you wouldn’t mind taking up the responsibility. It would be a huge help. We have architects on our payroll, but none of them understand the delicacy required for this… but you… you don’t want to change this place and neither do I.”

“Sam,” you whispered, “I interned with a conservation architect in my fourth year of college but it’s not the same thing as taking up a project by myself. What if I mess it up?”

“Then you’d only be messing up what you legally own,” he supplied easily.

He was being unreasonable… crazy.

“I don’t know… if I can…”

College was two years ago. All you had done since was spread your legs, close your eyes and pray for a better tomorrow. This… you couldn’t…

Sam was treating you like a real person. In fact, more than a real person… he looked at you with expectations and confidence, neither of which you had earned.

You watched him close his eyes and breathe out deeply. When he spoke next, his voice felt deeper than usual. “I haven’t lived in this house for long, Y/N and if I’m completely honest, it doesn’t feel like a home to me. I want it to, but it doesn’t. I think if people who only look at it as an opportunity to extend their portfolio get to refurbish it, it’ll never feel like a home. Would you, at least, like to try?”

You, who had never lived in a stable home, understood his desperate desire to have one. Sam’s words spoke of loneliness that ran so deep, you doubted restoring four walls could heal it. He sounded as lonely as you, in a place that was supposed to be his own home and you were forced to look at the world from his point of view. Obviously, there were gaping holes in the vision because you didn’t know all of his past, didn’t know why you were a part of his present or what his future held. But you could very clearly see an orphan boy who hadn’t known a father or a mother… and had now lost his brother.

How could you say no?

“I’ll try,” you whispered and Sam gave you a blinding, relieved smile, which completely transformed his face into an expression so pure, gods would writhe in envy.

“But I’ll need supplies, a drafting table for starters and scales, and… do you have a computer in here that I could use? And the software…” you trailed off in horror. “I don’t have the crack file to install pirated software or the money to buy original ones–”

“Y/N.” he placed a hand over yours across the table, and it made you jump in your seat. Seeing your reaction, he immediately pulled it back, leaving you feeling bereft. “Don’t worry about any of it. You’ll have whatever you need… just not the pirated software.”

You had the graces to be abashed.

“Let me walk you to your room?”

It was a shame that he didn’t offer you his hand again.

“Can I ask you something?” You glanced at him sideways as you took the stairs.

“Of course.”

If you voiced your questions, this might be where he stopped talking to you for good. But now that you had started to admire him, you didn’t want even a shadow of a doubt to taint that admiration. “Why is it forbidden to go to the west wing?”

Sam stopped in his tracks on the staircase landing.

“I mean, it makes up a quarter of this mansion,” you added quickly. “I was just wondering…”

“That part of the house burned down twenty-eight years ago,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about it. No one’s been there since.”

Stupid. Stupid. You wanted to kick yourself as you realised the implications of his words. His mother.

Jesus! What had demented you to ask him that? And yet; “What about the basement?”

Sam stopped once more, and your heart sank through the floor. Now you had gone ahead and done it.

He barked out a quick laugh. “Mold.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, it was off-limits for me, too, when I was a kid. I tried to sneak in once and got locked in an old wine cellar there. If you ever attend the tours of the estate, they’ll tell you they hoarded weapons here in the war, but I think it’s all bullshit. I think they hoarded liquor during the prohibition.”

All that time you spent being horrified about shackles and chains in a dungeon prison… all that time it had been just… mold?

“Really,” said Sam, sobering up. “Don’t go in there. We’ve been fortunate that the mold has contained itself in one part of the basement, but last time the workers went down there, a few of them came down with terrible infections. They’re looking for a better remedy, I’ve been told.” He gave you a sly smile. “But it’s your problem now.”

“I might have to go down to see it for myself.”

“Oh, no. Don’t. At least, not without a hazmat suit. It’s also very easy to get lost there. The plan doesn’t follow the rhyme or reason of the floors above–”

Of course, it didn’t. Basements made up a considerable part of the foundation. Columns and walls popped up where they were necessary, not where they were wanted.

“– and I spent a day and most of the night there. Haven’t been the same since,” he winked.

“How did you get out?”

“Oh, Dean–” Sam stopped, a sharp intake of breath cutting his words short. He waited to let it all out slowly and said, “They organised a search party all the way into the woods, river, and the towns on the other side… and someone thought to look for me here.”

“Someone braved the mould-infested basement at night to come look for you?” You asked tentatively.

“Yes,” said Sam, effectively ending the topic.

You had pushed him enough for one day and didn’t want to end the evening on a hard note now that you had reached your door. A tug in your stomach reminded you of how strongly you didn’t want to leave his side, how much you wanted to keep listening to his voice, see his shy smile.

“What will you do with your evening?” You asked, taking the last chance to see his face.

He yawned. “Probably just drink a mug of coffee and read myself to sleep. I filched a copy of Wordsworth from the library.”

“You can’t filch what’s already yours,” you snickered. “And don’t punish yourself with that coffee. You’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“Haven’t I?” He said so softly, you almost missed it. After a small pause, his expression brightened. “I’ll find that poetry you were translating the other day.”

“Hope you like it,” you muttered, not really knowing what he might make of it.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, looking so good, a part of you died.

Not wanting to show the desperation you felt on your face, you nodded and ducked back into your room. Once the door closed behind your back, you fell against it, breathing hard.

You had come expecting torture and now you were getting it. Just not the kind you thought you would. This was sweet and painful at the same time. You wanted to giggle and cry all at once and most of all, you wanted to open that connecting door and run to him.

What did it say about you? That you find the first decent guy and now you were falling for him like the freshman girl after seeing the high-school jock.

But Sam wasn’t a high-school jock, a voice said in your head. He had freed you from a horrid fate and treated you with something more than dignity. He’d treated you with care and honored you with trust by surrendering this precious house into your care. He was sure that you could turn it into a home for him.

Changing out of your clothes left you with a tingling sensation because Sam was mere feet away. After pulling a hoodie over your head, you padded to the connecting door and as quietly as you could, unlatched it from your side. Falling back into the bed, you savoured the feel of fresh sheets, knowing exactly who you had to thank for them.

You reached out with your hand to the wall behind and tapped out:

G-O-O-D N-I-G-H-T P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S

Sam must already be in bed, for the reply was quick and left you grinning into your pillows

G-O-O-D N-I-G-H-T followed by a very deliberate, loud… Y-N.

*****************************

A/N 2: Can I just thank everyone for the love you’ve been showering me with? I love y’all, okay? <3

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

TNWM taglist:

@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan @stoneyggirl2 @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough @impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis @likhelbentin @vividreader @mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @bluedragonflylady @daddys-littlewhitegirl @mlovesstories @sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted @little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore @sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @wittysunflower @strawberryycows @joseyrw @agenthellcat @lacilou @giggles1026 @aloneatpeace @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester #sam love club #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam x y/n #sam winchester x y/n #reader x sam winchester #Ana writes Sam #anawrites #anawritesspn #Ana writes tnmw #tnmw7 #q

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anonymous-red-shades · 2 years

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A third batch of anons has been made! Featuring Medic Anon by @nightseeye, Lemon Anon by @hydrangeaprxnce, Flame Cat God and Archivist Anons by @defness, Wildcard Anon by @atums-apple, Regen Anon by @theresademoninyouroven, and @greenheart-anon!

#fellow anon #creator speaks #gacha club

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aidensm8 · 4 years

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Your really cool and such an amazing artist and ily 💚💚💚💚

Aww thank you, you get platonic love too, greenheart-anon uwu

#text post #ask response

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 4 years

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hello i am a person with adhd and i get really excited about the stuff you post and it makes me happy stim (which looks like me squeaking and aggressively shaking my hands by my head) so idk i just thought you should know - new anon who goes by 💚

I’m happy you like it! Also, hi, Greenheart!

#snoweyanswers #anon 💚#stimming

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wanderingcas · 4 years

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imgur [.] com /a/F2B3Obv i hope this is more or less what you imagined... if not, i'm very sorry. hope you're having a great day, ily -greenheart

oh my god. oh my GOD!! this is so gorgeous and EXACTLY what i was imagining... holy SHIT. i cannot tell you how much i absolutely love this. can i somehow include it in the fic?? (and credit you as green heart anon unless you want me to use your name:’))

#<33 #la hantise #i am SCREAMING #this is exactly what was in my head how do you DO THAT #Anonymous

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ohshitmomitsawritingblog · 4 years

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Welcome back you funky bitch💚

Glad to be back, greenheart anon!

#mod talks #anon #Anonymous

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turquoisemagpie · 6 years

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The JSE Artist Project!!

After nearly 4 months, it’s finally here!! This project has been an amazing journey, seeing it turn from a small idea to this masterpiece of what is just a small fraction of this creative community. To Sean, thank you for inspiring us and encouraging us; the nonstop support for all types of artists all over the world does not go unrecognised. From the ‘professional artist’ to the ‘just-starting artist’, thanks for helping us grow in our skills and our confidence.

All those involved:

@turquoisemagpie @mangledsonic @applesaturn @shittylostboy @thehwns( @strings-and-glitches) @lappyisgaming @avasefullofnations @emymodaboss @lucimorningstar812 @amyann-durham @frcmnowcn @ladywarlock03 @theburningstrawberry @sketchyflannelpile @toast-that-is-gay @isa-ghost @katie-g-septic @antischneep @caryatherton @alexisdevil @random-rambutan @myladyofshadows @captain-cuddles @marsupials-of-mars @cuteflyingtigers @mirandaisntcool-blog @moonlightliss @s0ng_0f_St0rmss @drawer-frisk @daniel-trans-paniel @blueberry_demon @khsupergeek1288 @queenartisticgamer413 @fruitiplierq @nightwolf109 @psychic-ga1axy @sspacee-the-confused @definatlypastthegone @aqua-sound @jackosean @tiramisueme @obviouslypancakes @noukieeee @thisimmortalnerd @osthyvel1 @bluepatient @septilover2 @manna-the-advocate @scrumptiousbearcreator

@smalleststress @stefish-sf @huffletrax @amyxmiaplay @masonaryy @rxvenclxw-dork @bri-doodles-art @coolgamelara @a-heist-of-words @astralie @uglynetwork @lucyrb99 @rant-and-rave-to-save @mai-violet @musical-jim @rukataku87 @kortlync @imagine-ego-trash @bekkyboo2003 @thedrawingpepper24 @jelixpo @jedidisneyphantomofstorybrooke @ind1go13 @phoenixislost @pandapopplay @creatoraa @pinkwolf201 @leeshajoy @geekygirl0816 @eyyyhowaboutno @ketothehero @beast-chris-bliss @st1ck-m1st3r @andymp-blue @di-the-happy-psychopath @mayordamien @kennythespaz @olive-is-a-jim @supercuddy @abzthefabulous @igsdraws @ladywolfajfidc @dianakieee @luxkyclover @bleakdecemberbittermarch @sauciesauce @odia13 @lyrik-rose @vampiricsans @jackaboy12900 @pixelenchanter

@erose130 @psychoticmessup123 @thedragoncat123 @cryptidwithakeyboard @pheventhedog & @lil-satan-ccdoodles @ink-skies @dapper-boys @respecramen @theoddowldoodle @tazmanianbrit @isadghost @serixskylark @molliepatricia @pari13 @scarious-nomad @zericdoesstuff @kimolothecatt @wholeoftwoparts @just-silly-liv-things @francoulduseaplan @part-of-me-do-not-know-the-rest @blank-dakota @katelyneprice250 @ladyeowyn127 @awkward-cameron @oblivioussempai @gabbalabbaaaa @shai-i @darkcaty98 @watermelon-lover-scg @najemniczkas @kasper-the-ghost @nightfuryobsessed @nuclearsugarbomb @squipyscribbles @thathockeygirl77 @fruitycasket @itsmagic-iswear @tinam-ut @imaginaryjuli @oreowiskers @clarexen055 @undauntedhaunted @melchoinsassy @steffid101@liberty-draws @cloudy-skiesx @splish-splash-im-trash

@aquilacalvitium @geekofthegreek @i-am-not-anon @burnwaffles @eliasrcade @ghostiezone & @artlesscomedic @nuts-and-crackers @van-arts @acenovatv @justspacecatz @spoopyboxjim @gwenypatu @sbeee_ @theoptimisticmistake @septic101 @gothelixar @hey-wow-thats-me @existential-cloud @hope-ysl @faleaflet @spacellwi @post-random-art @lesssicotic @maybekatie @thatonegirl474 @thelittlemonster99 @kitkat1003 @aceingonthecakes @fangirljeffy @coconutcanary @worse-luck-and-far-less-gold @sunnyicebomb @newtiplier @darkstiella @thedoctorofsteel @kilofinch @cookiethedevil @glitching-kuukkeli @aw3zom3zauc3 @harlyhyde @jaysflight @septicstacheedits @choleson @metalstitches @alien-sushi-roll @impossiblerebelblaze @mysteriousmaker @annako103 @pangcloud @pixiis-blog @thatonelittlegaynarwhal @artsandfandoms @spider-bitch-with-anger-issue @fandom-loving-trash

@razz-berri-arts @fireicelapis @rosesiero @anartistthatistrying @thehelpfulvillager @shipping-hell-all-aboard @abby5577 @travelingthemultiverse @malteaser13 @flyingllamasinspaceandtime @shedra-the-warrior @redstone-galaxy4 @fyrua @katslenderarnold @werewolfprincesswarrior @roses-and-bellflowers @timelordlullaby @aceofspades-lena @aweebitobsessive @sondrascribbles @antimimi & @darkipari @anormalpaperbag @j-u-s-t-sam @sarcasticlicorne @skyllsear @creationsofeve & @nightmarewolf133 @hypercat360 @kingcrownsart @alifyairl @dragonfirelady2 @sora6303 @quivker @mod-da1 @bonkbatter @dragonqueen1507 @awkwardspacekid @super-fensy @castielswings01 @that-one-obsesses-weirdo @notactuallyirishanditssad @tigracespace @tsunamiofdragons ( @glitchtrousle) @chronically-illustrated @flyingmaskzb @fairykats @ohme-0hmy @itsninell @aks-crazy-universe @jenni-with-an-i

@smallapple4231 @artist-mess @eva-witch & @giulychanstuff @ayahne @greenheart-dreamer @mrs-greenper @dorky-trash-floof @northeastartist @quintachan @laurenite107 @itsdanimotherfreakingglitter @californiakxng @anti-exe @toki-dokke @viostormcaller @belladonnachaos @snazzyninja1 @caslover13 @cyanacious @alexwithoutabowtie @bloodyblackrose1800 @thevampireandthetigress @kaydenmcbrideart @nihanmoon @thecutiephilly @loucid-lines @piper-poptato-chisp @imalosersodontfollowme @mickeyforrealz @0teacakes0 @lyras21 @septic-dr-schneep @starstrike41 @jessieplays56 @anastasiarose0 @disneyamoo @greenishcrow @unipugsat221b @fourentiredogs @theheromasterofdragons @vanillaella @littlebittyginge @no-strings-puppet @lilatheanxiousflower @rare-magpie @sam-vide @burned-toast @darkibooty @monochromemedic @rediculous-art @wlfrdwrfstche

@ninjentsie @rizunekochan @emilightning @glaceonstar-blog @bennettsl @ripmysouldude @fear-is-nameless @mini-hero-rena @eatmynips @jesssikaaalovesbutter @dragonfliesarecool @theacefangirl @floofygalaxy @nick-pixie @alsodooperdoopcr @flying-orangemint @redeemedsage @pocket-dreamer @idonutevenknow-anymore @valkyreskye @meiiyin @blueberrychill @clouded-cryptid @cookieface678 @tiger-jim & @Emson#3602* & @mythyk-art & @awildtoribird (@verytiredtorin) @dandadude @lottes-art @ravyn626 @tinytdog @tiny-yan-anon @wyrneck @mlhmoo @latte-stuffie @aweirdlisa @thebbvillain @wyforyu-gaming @jayyyonnaise @beep-stuff @cecillustrates @dontbugmeimantisocial @howdoesonethinkofausername @septic-sloth @florenceisfalling & Lia & @inkysock & C @voltelectra @margarita-is-the-answer @lestoria-art @asksomecoolkids @circles-of-grass @lilalovesinternet-l

@afimeatur @maja5111 @crazygreatgamerperson @the-east-hunter @samueldamniel @septicsavvy @aranori @klementyna01 @endogenylove @samanthasabila @vitya-vitya @oopsifailed @daylightd @i-k-e @itsmythicaldisaster @pharaohofdarkness @lazyemisfandomtrash @littlelostshadow @toothynoah @d00mscepticgirl @0okaitlyndrawso0 @aliceredroses @coffeemeryspace @violet-fire-cat @starjames-pma @not-abox @monument-of-anxiety @sansgraceee @diamondhubstuff @pinkseraphuniverse @witchcrowx @smolbean_cici @starleavesart @nightlyowl @doodlemin @cia-mia11 @jsebossinator @littlemissspookiness @that-bi-musical-girl @comical-moose @plutoandpolaris-art @jack-septic-slay @lululablette @xxpinktatertotsxx @miharukano @phantomspirit14 @super-fensy @luckydanart @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @gleeful177 @potatolord8 @kreita @confusedbeansblog

Discord and others

@Shakeira32 @Crescentmoon @Belleknight16 @Psyched-up-psycho @SnazzyNinja1 @RizuNekoChan

@DazzlingPhoenix#1365 @Aviearts @Super Craig#8835 @Dat Limencio#0726 @greer rose <3 #1842 (@greerroseimagines) @Angry Child#1762 @Ban4na_BOOT#5306 @MystyfyingDepy#9872 @RachelTheAmberRose#2061 @BublesBinxs#9200 @Carbie#9236 @lazystarz#7479 @thecatsaidwoof#1816 @FlareSiram#0663 @Small_Baggs#8649 @Radiø.Røsa#3202 @Shyllsear#1506 @Abigail (Gardner)#6967 @CrazyGee#0083 @sarahphoenix617#0864 @IM Dirty Dan | 26#9587 @M.H Productions#8281 @MeanGreenBean#8745 @Sugarsnap Caely#0361 @Nilûîth_Moonlady#9788 @Braelyn Thomas#5883 @Cozed15#7694 @radbutsad;billy num. 1 fan#0821 @SíoraíDragon#8343 @silverpaintedwings#6130 @PianoPisces#6394 @CoolmadiDraws#3968

Special thanks to the editors on discord and tumblr:

@sarchopathic

@sportaflop

@emson

@phantomspirit14

@Starstrike41

@King Of The Squirrels

@kennythespaz

@hunk-muffinofthesurvival-hunter

@gwenypatu

@serixskylark

@septicsavvy

@feelingmarvellous

@Odia13

@antimimi

@smolbean_cici

@lieutenantterrible

@notreallyusefulgreenbean

#jse #jseartistproject #jacksepticeye #pma #septicart

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