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alien-magnolia · 8 hours

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I Need Someone Older

Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!

Word count: 3.1k

Don’t like, don’t read!!

May 5, 2007

7:40 pm

Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.

All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.

You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.

You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.

“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!

You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.

“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.

“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.

“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”

So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.

“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.

Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.

“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.

“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”

“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.

You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”

You were more than happy to give it to him.

You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.

Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.

“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.

“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.

He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.

You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.

You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.

“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.

He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.

“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’

With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.

“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.

He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.

“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.

The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.

The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.

His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.

His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.

His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.

His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.

“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.

“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.

“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.

All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!

“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.

A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.

“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.

You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.

His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.

His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!

“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.

Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.

He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.

Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤#supernatural smut #Dean Winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester hot #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dom!dean winchester #hyperfeminine!reader

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kelocitta · 1 day

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Hello! I love your use of geometric shapes and saturated colors in your illustrations. Which artists influence your work?

Honestly while I can name a lot of artists who serve as some sort of inspiration for things like creature design or color, I can't really place ones for specifically the geometric aspect! I'm sure there are some out there, but I think a large part of specifically that is probably just me personally liking balanced/clean/symmetric stuff along with most of my sketch papers growing up being gridline paper, so doing sharp geometric shapes was common. I also tend to think of my lineless art as similar to layered paper art, which has to be physically cut out. Its sort of one of the reasons I reuse colors often? Like you'd reuse the same piece of paper

Color wise I pull a lot from my friends, save a lot of art I think does interesting stuff with colors, etc. Generally I might skip through a couple artworks for a good "starter" color or a palette I like and go from there, adjusting it for personal preference. All the parts are drawn in little individual bits, so I can change them all independently. So often I have colors in mind at the beginning, but don't actually pick them till the very end. Here's some pieces to show how that gets fiddled with

And if you go back far enough, everything starts as a yucky mash of whatever colors made it easiest to tell one piece from another with zero regards to palette

I just really like bright saturated colors and honestly just kinda feel it out from there. Sometimes that's making it brighter sometimes that's making it a little more washed out. Sometimes I decide what I was going for doesn't actually look as nice as I thought. It's sort of hard to name inspirations directly because so much of what I do I do effectively by feeling, and I have piss poor memory so naming exacts is real hard. If I tried to list people whos art I think about a lot we'd be here all day. I know a lot of my recent stuff has had more direct inspo from Boxheadpaint who has just amazing shape language (but almost the exact opposite of 'geometric' but I try and match their vibe a lot when I'm trying to draw a little looser and less stiff. Also looooove how they texture stuff)

#ask #t.extpost

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cornerful · 7 months

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It's newsletter time babey!!

I've some catching up to do 🏃‍♂️

I basically ended up taking a complete hiatus from tumblr for several months when my migraines got real bad last year. And then things, as things do, kept on happening. Bastards.

I haven't looked much at the tag yet and I still have to catch up with the first five? Chapters and relearn the ropes so to speak, but hopefully I'll see some familiar faces around this year, and new ones 👀

Last time I couldn't get to the end but what I did get through was a lot of fun and the best part was what everyone else was saying and drawing and discussing! That's what I missed the most, was talking and joking with everyone. Lotr is probably my Favorite Story, and to have this in-time community readthrough is such a treasure. As usual, three cheers for @sindar-princeling for organizing. It's a hell of a feat 😁

I'm arriving uh...Precisely When I Mean To ;] but here's to a great year! 💚🍻

#lotr newsletter #i am tragically gifted with a life and brain that frequently fall apart i know everyone is incredibly jealous #fresh out of heartbreak and with some free time i think a full reread will be good. Autumn is here #perfect for beginnings bc there's already so many endings #i think i will still post a little about my catch-up if i have things i want to put on the blog #but itll be a lot less thorough so as not to muck up the tag?#elsewhise ill make a separate tag...hmm #i am curious as to what ppl said last year too so maybe I'll make a whole other blog for that idk #i was very invested in everyone's thoughts and i'm sad i missed out on so much #might do that #but for now ill get caught up! this thing moves fast when it wants to #i started the ian holm bbc drama today to hype myself up #😭 he's wonderful i keep wondering how that turn informed his take on bilbo #it's amazing how similar they are sometimes #not to be all I AM HERE but im excited ok thats all XD #you've no idea how devastated i was that i couldn't post about the songs from the musical at the right time 😩

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heliumcake · 2 years

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thinking about richie’s “eddie was nearly killed!” and mike’s “i’m the only one who cares about will!” for no reason in particular

#it amazes me sometimes how similar they are #richie and mike i mean #byler #reddie

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raeofgayshine · 10 days

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I wish I could go back and tell younger me that I would in fact find that place one day full of people that I adore deeply and who I know love me in return. Who make me feel wanted and cared for and appreciated in a way I never thought would be possible. And none of it required hiding, or forcing myself to be a person I’m not. And I still have that space even though I’m aroace.

For the first time ever, I see a future where I’m not alone. And I wish I could go back and tell my younger self it would happen. It’s possible to not be constantly lonely.

#ravenpuff rambles #I’ve been lucky enough in my life to make amazing friends several times #several of whom are still in my life now #but it’s only been recently that I’ve felt like I truly found my place #I don’t know how to explain it #I guess up until now I have always gone into friendships expecting them to end and holding back just a little bit #and this is the first time I don’t feel like I have to run because I don’t feel like these people are going to leave me #maybe it’s just because one of them is also aroace and we’ve talked a lot about those similar feelings of being left behind #never had someone quite get that before #and maybe it’s just I feel more willing to open my heart #admittedly this group of ours went through some shit together and that’s how the friendships really started forming #and so maybe that helps #but it’s like #Have you ever met someone who is so much like you in so many ways that its like the joke of ‘#‘can I copy your homework?’ ‘yeah just be sure to change it so no one knows’#It’s a weird thing of feeling so completely and totally seen by somebody sometimes without having to say a word #anyways #I’m really happy with this little place I found and I wish I could tell younger me #and also tell xem that no it doesn’t look like a fanfic dream #no im not their person but yeah they’re kind of mine but that’s okay #its nothing and everything like I always thought of #and for the first time in my life I don’t feel a crush sense of loneliness #yes I wish I could see them in person #but I can be okay with everything I do get

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jrueships · 11 months

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chuck/mj gives friends to lovers to enemies to strangers (lmao) and idk how to feel abt it. like oh this dude you've known and loved for decades suddenly hates you because you made a comment about the people he surrounds himself with on air? you haven't spoken in 10 years even though you once considered yourselves inseparable? you were fierce rivals at the height of your careers and now it's radio silent between the both of you? and you hate that it's dead static because you miss the talks and the good days? inch resting

like yeah the story makes mj sound like a massive diva and all but like. the Narrative

theyre perfect for each other 🥰

#TBH #they kind of deserve each other LMAO #and charles misses it :(#THIS IS SO INTERESTING id love to hear more of ur thoughts on them bcs!!! real!!#chuck always speaks his mind!! even if it may be unwelcome sometimes #mj needs that but mj hates that LMAO he loves yesmen and charles is Not a yesman..#mj likes showing ppl up.. chuck likes learning new things #eventually chucks learns enough to make mj feel like hes the one getting showed up and all a sudden #it's not so fun anymore #i think abt mj looking thru chucks salary (lmao??) over a deal he wasnt even involved with #he just made a similar/same one before charles #so he calls him up and tells chuck the value of stock that he learned from his nike deal cus mj looves stock #and charles went with it even tho he had no idea why until now (which he always sings his value over)#they were both so proud of it LMAO chuck being amazed with mjs genius creativity n mj givin unique tips o the trade #but that was a while ago... and now chuck is telling mj how to handle his business #that does Not fly with mj...#i love friends to lovers to enemies to strangers LMAO vintage ball loves to parade their masculinity then have friendship coldwars over #mean girl issues. it's hilarious. TY for this info!!! this is so! YES!! like!! someone needs to look into it! keep asking!!!#i need them to make up!!! mj can be a diva and charles can be dumb but they can BOTH be demanding #they could be so powercouple it's almost upsetting #ted asks #VERY inch resting!! we need to keep tabs on them !!

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butchladymaria · 1 year

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yknow sometimes i see an artist who’s maybe young or just new post their art online and honestly? i’m so incredibly happy for them?? like you are documenting your journey as an artist and i think that is an incredible thing to share

#some ppl online can be so obsessed with Numbers TM and like while they feel good sometimes i think the act of making and sharing it matters #it reminds me of like. language learning #you can study for a year and feel embarrassed because like. maybe you have a similar grasp on the language to a 5 yr old #but bestie. how long do u think it took the FIVE yr old #and its the same with art #i used to be so hard on myself bc i wasnt drawing at a level that people who did art for 20 years do #but like. i look back on old pictures that i cringed at when i was a kid and im like. holy shit!!!! i was starting to get a grasp on color!!#or shading or form or What Ever!!!!!#and having that physical legacy honestly means the world to me :)#approach art as a thing you learn like language #u are going to fuck up but u dont have to be writing eloquent poetry! u just need to be understood :)#n art is like that too #idk this post has been made probably #but basically: idc where youre at in your artistic journey but you are doing amazing

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lindwurmkai · 5 months

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sometimes i imprint on specific subgenres or "flavours" of stories and go slightly insane trying to find more of exactly this

which, funnily enough, happened twice in a very short time recently, so now i am desperately looking for two completely different types of sci-fi but only those two specific kinds. 🤷🏻‍♂️

one story was time to orbit: unknown. it's about humanity's first attempts at colonising planets outside of our solar system, using relatively realistic, near(ish)-future technology. most of the weird shit that happens turns out to be human-caused. aliens are only an abstract concern in the sense that characters worry about reaching their destination and finding unexpected life there.

then there's the southern reach trilogy. its entire premise is that Weird Shit is happening on earth and it's probably aliens. science is discussed mostly in the context of scientists having no idea what the fuck is going on, and there is a certain cosmic horror vibe to it all. things, including people, are being transformed in some way. coherent communication with the invasive entity is not possible.

now, these are completely different things and i've been oscillating between wanting one or the other. but at some point i realised

THE EXPANSE.

the expanse series is somehow, incredibly, a perfect mix of both. it's got humans venturing into space in shitty spinning ships, living in shitty colonies or research facilities on moons and asteroids. they're not even venturing outside our solar system yet - but then the probably-alien cosmic horror weirdness begins. it even involves things and people being transformed, too! and in the end it opens up possibilities regarding interstellar space colonisation. but watch out

i think i may have one unread expanse book left in my collection and there's another i haven't bought yet. since i struggled to determine if i had already read that one book or not, i may be due for a reread of the entire series - this is where i'm stuck, because my brain demands new stories but i know i'd be super confused if i just tried to continue where i left off. i'm sure i'd enjoy the reread! b-but,,

#my brain: new stories pls? 🥺#it is truly amazing how much the expanse has in common with each of those completely dissimilar things #ultimately it's probably *more* similar to ttou just because they both take place in the future #and because the southern reach is kinda. an exercise in futility if you will #it's exclusively a quest for information whereas the other two are more about solving actual problems #even if new problems constantly pop up and sometimes the solutions are less than ideal #i'm not sure a single problem gets solved in the entire southern reach trilogy tbh. which sounds horribly bleak but it's not #anyway here's wonderwall i need to sleep #;

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zemnarihah · 1 year

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guys literally smth has shifted in the way i feel abt music like i dont know what it is but i like feel it in my body in my muscles and inside of my skull u know and sometimes i get like completely overwhelmed emotionally but also PHYSICALLY by some parts of songs like i will have to like. stop everything and take deep breaths. or if im in the car i have to scream. im not even exaggerating it is insane.

#im also high rn so um. its going crazy insane right now.#but im so serious and its like amazing but so strange. it almost feels like i get a high from it sometimes #like when it happens and im sober. but rn its like. a different kind of high even. much more intense than just weed alone idk #but i will say i think the catalyst for this was metal. specifically it has happened a lot with iron maiden but like w sabbath too and now #plenty of other stuff #i mean idk i do think this has happened before like now that i think abt it its similar to how ive always felt w slowdive #just maybe. more intense #do i sound crazy insane rn. well. oh well #i love it a lot if it wasnt clear these are all positive feelings i think just overwhelming #zem diary

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longagoitwastuesday · 1 year

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Something about the way Roxane with the cadets lifting their mood parallels Cyrano with the nuns lifting their mood

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vynegar · 1 year

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help i have such Opinions on translation now

#ok gonna preface this with saying that someone is translating for free and i KNOW that takes so much time and effort and love. and also ther #there are a lot of cultural and contextual footnotes that i really love and wouldn't have been able to figure out myself!#also it seems like the translator's native language is neither chinese NOR english so like. honestly that's really amazing.#so i still really respect what they're doing and am not gonna say anything identifying about this work (it's completely unrelated to tot)#but i've been reading a webnovel fan translation alongside its original chinese version and i guess i'm farther in the 'localization' camp #than i thought. bc this translation leans way too hard into the 'direct translation' of words and phrases and slang #and then with an added footnote explaining what it means. sometimes it's honestly kinda useful from the perspective of wanting to learn the #the language but i don't think it's the right translation choice because there can be several of these per chapter #and the vast majority are not at crucial significant moments when the loss in meaning outweighs the cost of breaking the story flow #and in one instance i saw (the final straw for me) it doesn't even make sense to translate the meaning of the chinese word directly #bc it's not the meaning that matters. the phrase originally came about as a loanword from japanese and a character with a similar pronunciat #pronunciation was used to represent the japanese syllable.#sure this is just one example of an internet slang word that many people might not even know the etymology of and maybe they DO think of the #the meaning of the word now! but still.#i have so many Thoughts now. on how translation is a constant game of balance and sacrifice where the set of 'rules' and expectations change #depending on genre and audience and intention and just individual person!#and -- most relevant to me i guess -- whether it is expected and/or preferrable for fan translations to veer on the side of direct

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kaijutegu · 5 months

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Today I was talking with my mom about why seeing an alligator is fundamental to my mental health. At first she laughed but I got her to listen and she gets it now. My psychiatrist and I call this the alligator litmus test, and it works really well for making decisions about my treatment. I bring this up because perhaps there is something in your life that you can use in a similar fashion.

I have severe major depressive disorder, and I treat this depression with medication. I've been on meds for about... seven years now, and sometimes we have to mess with them. But sometimes the emotional part of the depression is just super bad and there's something underneath that needs to be addressed. When we are figuring this out, my psychiatrist says to take one alligator and call her in the morning.

See, no matter how bad I'm feeling, seeing an alligator almost always cheers me up in the moment. (This works with other large crocodilians, too- they gotta be big, it doesn't work with caimans. I don't know why.) I can't look at their goofy toofers and beautiful eyes and bumpy hides and not be a little wowed by them. Millions of years of evolution have led to this amazing creature and they are completely unbothered by me. Almost all of the time, they make me feel happy. Or maybe I'll feel sad for some unspecified reason. Maybe I'll get worried about the ecosystem or something- but invariably, I will FEEL.

Unless, of course, it's my brain chemistry. If I can experience an alligator and not feel anything- not happy, not sad, just numb- there's something wrong and we should talk about adjusting my meds. Usually with a little tweaking I'm back to my very functional medicated baseline in quick order- instead of wasting time with coping skills and such alone when what I really need is brain chemicals, it's a much quicker way to communicate what's going on with me. At the same time, it also helps me know when the coping skills ARE likely to work without changing up my meds, or when there's something I need to work through with some help.

It's a pretty solid test. Might not work for anyone else on the planet, but it works great for me!

#mental health #the alligator litmus test

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xceanlynx · 6 months

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It always amazes me how vast the human experience is

#there are things I'll never experience while others will #and there are things I'll experience that some people won't even know to be possible #that's like so fucking amazing #how so similar and yet so unique we are #sometimes life is shit but small things like this always make me happy

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attleboy · 4 months

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i thought too hard about insect motifs got a little silly and made... a lot lmao these versions of the characters are from @sm-baby's amazing digital carnival au!! full images and rambling about insect choices are gonna get stuck under the cut... it'll be a bit long and i will be putting photos of real bugs down there so be mindful

pomni: "butterfly"

inspirational species are black swallowtails mostly for the shape, and malay red harlequins mostly for the pattern

carnival pomni's actually the one that kickstarted this whole set... i drew her hat in a way that reminded me of butterflies, went "wait...", then i fully leaned into it :)

jax: "centipede"

there was no specific species for jax. without being able to use color, they were too similar to pick any out... i have included a giant centipede just for reference though since it was mainly larger centipedes i used for inspiration

anddd there's a little bonus sketch for how pre-sentience jax might've looked with a centipede outfit... he gets a bug scarf and some goggles!

ragatha: "ladybug"

inspirational species was the twice-stabbed ladybug chosen because the inverted color scheme looked the best out of all the ones i tried, and also because it's a metal name and we know ragatha's good with a knife... stabby stab... i did add more than two spots to the dress though, it just looks cooler lol

gangle: "spider"

inspiration was the spinybacked orb weaver which i was absolutely ecstatic to find because come on that is the perfect spider for gangle like look at it!! it looks like her mask, it's got red, it's got gold on the limbs, literally twinning

zooble: "mantis"

inspiration was the spiny flower mantis which, like with gangle, i feel is pretty much perfect for zooble... they come in many colors (including pink), have abstract patterns, and it gave me the excuse to cover zooble in spikes :D fun

and no kaufmo because i'm lazy and he's dead (sorry kaufmo fans but am i wrong), and the rest don't have bug names that i know of?

i still want to draw the carnival characters in their regular looks sometime, i just got really really inspired by the idea of secret skins and bug-themed outfits and went a liiittle haywire :P

anyways if you read all that you're a real one and you've got too much time on your hands... if you didn't, i understand, i get wordy, sorry :'D okay i think that's all byeee

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital carnival #carnival au #tadc #pomni #jax #ragatha #gangle #zooble #bugs #spiders #gif #my art #my fancy art

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huggingkoalas · 2 months

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ride me it

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count 1.8k

warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

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“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.”

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face.

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’.

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly.

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes.

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle.

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core.

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand.

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed.

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release.

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm.

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

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#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #smut #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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twstowo · 3 months

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They get a body pillow of you [Twst]

♡︎Mimimi...

♡︎ Includes: NRC, RSA and Rollo

♡︎Warning: I wish they were real

⋆⋅☆Riddle: This man exploded—literally couldn’t bear to look at the pillow and had to hide it in his closet. Sometimes, he hosts tea parties with it, using it to practice conversations for when he wants to talk to you about something.

⋆⋅☆Trey: Tells you about it, doesn’t feel good knowing that someone is giving away those with you on it. (Slept with it once.)

⋆⋅☆Cater: Takes pictures with it and proudly posts them on Magicam. No shame.

⋆⋅☆Ace: Probably treats it like any regular head pillow, completely ignoring the fact that you are in it.

⋆⋅☆Deuce: Similar to Trey, he confessed about it but didn’t give it a second glance—he was too embarrassed.

⋆⋅☆Leona: Sleeps with it, but only within the inside of his room—can't risk being seen with it.

⋆⋅☆Ruggie: Sold it. He'd rather be with you after all.

⋆⋅☆Jack: Also told you about it.

⋆⋅☆Azul: Experiences the seven phases of grief over it, contemplating making more to sell. Eventually, he can't bring himself to do it and prefers being the only owner.

⋆⋅☆Jade: Takes it camping, pretending for once to have company on his mushroom hunts.

⋆⋅☆Floyd: Walks around Night Raven College with it—if anyone mentions the pillow, he will practically annihilate them. He got bored of it really fast.

⋆⋅☆Kalim: This man owns far too many pillows, he would love it so much and sleeps with it every night.

⋆⋅☆Jamil: Also overwhelmed like Riddle. He doesn’t know what to do with it. Considered telling you but prefers keeping it for himself. When he's incredibly stressed, he talks with it, imagining it’s you.

⋆⋅☆Vil: Fascinated by how uncannily similar it looks to you, he proceeds to apply makeup on it.

⋆⋅☆Rook: Holds onto it but would much rather have you around.

⋆⋅☆Epel: Sends it back—clearly not his cup of tea.

⋆⋅☆Idia: Not the first one he got of you. He sleeps with all of them in his bed.

⋆⋅☆Ortho: Hands it over to Idia without much thought.

⋆⋅☆Malleus: Ah yes, me, my boyfriend and his body pillow of me.

⋆⋅☆Lilia: Enjoys watching doramas with it, finding comfort in its presence.

⋆⋅☆Silver: Also confessed about it and apologized, feeling bad for looking at it.

⋆⋅☆Sebek: Passed away. Spends hours conversing with it about how amazing you are. Lilia had to take the pillow away as he’d stay up all night chatting with it.

⋆⋅☆Che’nya: Turns invisible while grabbing the pillow. Over time, people started suspecting that there were haunted pillows adorned with your image haunting the college grounds.

⋆⋅☆Neige: Confessed about it and felt it wouldn’t be right to keep it.

⋆⋅☆Rollo: Deemed it too sinful and decided to burn it.

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