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#not going to be posting as often so i dont burn myself out as much
artie-mess · 2 months
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trumanbluee · 2 months
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an encounter - matty healy
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)
word count: 3271
warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3
a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!
It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really. 
But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold. 
She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 
Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.
She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.  
She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week. 
No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear. 
Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart. 
They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.
He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands. 
It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls. 
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered. 
“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 
He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 
She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall. 
One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face
He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. . 
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.
 However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 
“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.
“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.
Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.
He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.
She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.
“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.
But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.
She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.
Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.
“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.
Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.
Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.
“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.
He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor. 
She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.
Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.
She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of  words.
He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.
One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.
Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.
Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.
Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core. 
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.
Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.
At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”
Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.
You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.
His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.
So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.
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Don't leave me... I'll stay (Loki)
Summary: After an argument causes a rift between Loki and Y/N, the day is spent ignoring the other until Y/N decides to spend the night away from Loki.
Warning: Angst? i dunno what else to put in but angst eheheh. long maybe? this is a very long fic eheheh. ohh and another thing is that this may be prone to mistakes as i dont have anybody to proof this so... ehehhe
Note: eheheeh the liar has finally posted what was promised, precisely a month late or later. eheheh sorry to those who waited, school has taken a lot of my time, I barely open my laptop to work and im rarely here anymore but i've got until the monday off so lets see what i'll do with that eheheh
The context is vague, I apologize but i am complete rubbish at this. at everything really, including writing so eheheh. To those brave souls that braved this whole thing, Thank you! so very deeply, from the bottom of my heart for even showing the slightest bit of interest in my rubbish ideas. Hope you like it and im stopping myself from going any further and prolonging this intro ehehhe, Enjoy!😊
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‘No Loki! Just because I have this disease, doesn’t mean you have the right to keep me locked up like some sort of china. I am able to do just about everything I could before I told you and you have no right telling me what I can or cannot do’ you countered his argument but being stubborn, neither of you relented nor ceased.
You were now second guessing whether it was right or not, telling him about the chronic illness you were diagnosed with, but you knew that you did the right thing if you wanted this relationship to have a good foundation. The reaction however… was not how you thought things would go.
It was simple at first. Barely noticeable and could have been mistaken as added doting to his already caring nature with you but overtime, it became more and more obvious how he was setting up these restrictions you never would have agreed on. It only grew ridiculous, and you would have allowed the passive ones, but this was the final straw.
Your patience had worn thin over the entirety of the argument however, as comments grew more rash and the final ‘disapproval’ of your oncoming task was remarked, you snapped. He had no right to restrict you of activities and tasks he thinks are too much for your condition and it only insulted and hurt you to think that he thought you so frail and weak that even simple chores were too much.
‘I am going on this mission, whether you “approve” or not, because just telling you was out of courtesy. I refuse to be told of my restrictions by anyone besides myself. I would have understood your concerns if the situation were more grave, but for the love of God, it’s a simple data extraction.’ You exasperated, growing tired of fighting about something you know he won’t fold on.
‘In an abandoned Hydra base!’ he pointed out, choosing not to acknowledge how you outright dismissed his concern, no matter how much it hurt. ‘You know of the dangers that lurk in those retched lairs and often times there are still those who patrol the premises. You do remember when Rogers and Romanoff were attacked during their little escapade in Camp Leigh, do you not?’
‘Of course, I remember, I’m not a moron’ you snide, glaring daggers at the raven-haired god and you were just about to justify how Barnes was going with you however the comment he let out was the final pull on the thinned thread.
‘Well, you certainly are acting like one’ he mumbled without thinking, turning away. He thought it was low enough so you wouldn’t hear but he thought wrong.
‘I beg your pardon?!’ you all but screeched out of fury. Loki flinched before he turned at the high pitch and fury, he heard from you. He saw the outraged his comment caused in your eyes. The fire that burned in those beautiful orbs of yours was terrifying however, what truly frightened him was how you took a breath, calming yourself and before he could so much as apologize, rolled your eyes and turned away.
‘I’m done’ you raised your hands in surrender, turning your back to him.
‘What do you mean you’re done?’ he asked as fear of losing you threatened his being. You mean everything to him and just the very thought of losing you and him being the very reason you were gone… it opened a holocaust in his mind.
‘This conversation, I am done. I’m ending it before either of us say something or does more damage that there already is’ you yield, busying yourself with tidying up the files you had splayed out all over the floor.
Relief flooded his senses before guilt quickly bore fruit.
He watched as you packed up your work and strode out of the room. It took him a minute, but he followed you out and once he finally reached the living room, he met the sight of you slipping on your trainers and throwing your gadgets, wallet and keys in your bag before moving to the door and slamming it shut.
He stood frozen in the threshold of the hall as he processed what happened. All he wanted was to keep you safe. Never did he think that things would go this bad.
You stormed out of the flat and went to the compound for the briefing you had with Bucky. It was scheduled for tomorrow, but you just could not stay in the flat, not with him, not at the moment. You needed a cool head and quite frankly, yours was blazing.
You called Barnes to reschedule, which he agreed to but before he could ask why, you had already hung up. You needed to calm down, seriously.
You took a scenic route around the city before heading to the facility. You parked at the car park and turned off the vehicle before you let your head fall on the steering wheel. Loki’s’ words really stung but in his own way, you knew he meant well. He loved you but it felt demeaning to be confined to one place or to be babied. You are a grown woman; this disease may affect you in some way but you wouldn’t let it define and control your life like its slowly doing to Loki.
You took your phone to look at the time and was greeted with lock screen background of you and Loki cuddling, fast asleep. Someone from the team took the picture to spite Loki but you found it adorable and set it on your phone. It brought a small grin to your lips until you got a message from Barnes saying which conference room was being used for the quick briefing. You sighed, taking your bag before exiting the car and heading in the building.
The briefing was quick. Only about the layout of the base, where to go and what to take. You were in and out in possibly ten minutes, but you longed for it to be longer. You didn’t want to go home yet so you stayed for a chat with the others, talking to Wanda about her relationship, discussing with Bruce the project he was working on before you went and left with a goodbye, heading for the shops for dinner prep and a bit of groceries, taking your time in each aisle to pass the minute until you really had to go home.
Loki had texted Thor after you left, asking if you were at the compound. It took a bit for his brother to respond but eventually he replied with ‘Barnes says she’s on her way for a meeting’. He felt relieved to at least know where you are, knowing you were safe and not alone somewhere. 
Hours passed until he heard your keys on the front door, the metal snake keychain giving a distinct clink with the rest of your keys. He looked to the door from where he sat on the living room, watching as you trudged in the brown bags of groceries. You kicked the door closed and placed the bags in the kitchen bench, never sparing him a look. He could sense that you didn’t want to be around him, he could always sense it. He’s had years of experience with being ignored nor wanted. He knew when to take his leave, so he left for the bedroom, never sparing you a sound of his departure.
You saw Loki on the chaise when you walked in. You blatantly ignored him, but he was on the couch. The only indication you got that he left was when you heard the bedroom door close. You were fixing everything you had bought to the cupboards and the pantry when you just heard the soft click of the door closing. You felt bad with how distant you two were being but what stung more is that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you that he had to leave. You wanted to make things right. You were thinking of things to say as you put away the vegetables, but he seemed to want the opposite.
You put everything away and started making supper, finishing an hour or two later. Loki still hasn’t left the bedroom, though you did hear the shower run a few minutes prior, so you ate by yourself, wallowing in your thoughts about the mission and Loki.
Your bowl was half gone when he emerged from the room and moved to where you were eating on the table. You had prepared him a bowl, which now sat at the other end of the table. You weren’t talking to each other, but you still care and love him. The soup had gone a bit cold, but it was there, and he sat and ate it anyways.
Both of you stayed silent, neither breaking the silence as the tension grew thick. You quickly finished the rest of your meal before standing abruptly to start cleaning up. You let the bowl rinse and soak in the sink while you stored the leftovers in a container and to the fridge. You had put more than enough on his bowl, so you were sure he wouldn’t be asking for seconds. You quickly washed the dishes whilst he ate while reading his book. He was nearly done when you left the kitchen and proceeded to the bathroom.
He let out a sigh and dropped his book when he heard the shower running. He has been staring at the very same paragraph over and over but not once has he actually paid attention to the text let alone understood it. He was hoping to break the ice between you two, but he froze, missing his chance.
He rinsed his own dish and made sure everything was good and locked up before he went back to the bedroom, preparing to go to bed.
You came out a few minutes later, steam billowing from the ensuite and following you. Your hair was wrapped up in a towel, your body clad in the oversized jumper you adored, with a nightie underneath. You still refused to acknowledge him as you made your way to the closet, grabbing a spare comforter.
This got Loki’s attention and was what broke the silence of the room, really the silence you have both established since the argument earlier.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stopped fluffing the pillow in his hold. Your pillow.
‘I have a few case files to read and paperwork to do so… I’m staying in the living room’ you stated, hardly with any emotion, tugging at the comforter from the top shelf.
‘And the need for a blanket?’ he questioned again, looking over your well bundled figure. The sweater you had was thick and big enough to cover your legs if you were truly that cold, he knew that and the fact that you only use blankets whenever you were going to sleep.
‘It’s likely I’ll fall asleep on the couch so I’m preparing for the inevitable. To put it bluntly, I’m sleeping on the couch’ you say, finally turning around to see him holding your pillow before you moved to leave the room.
All Loki could do was nod, clenching his jaw as his hands dropped your pillow and watch as you left the room. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t will his lips to move in protest and just accepted what was going to happen. He didn’t want to force you seeing how that went earlier, so he let it… you, go do what you wish. He didn’t want to lose you and he’d do anything and everything to avoid that.
He got cleaned up in the bathroom before he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep and for hours he’s spent it staring up at the ceiling. Once he'd learned to sleep with you by his side, it was harder now to do so without you and the lingering thoughts of your fight earlier kept him company.
It took a while before the fatigue finally succumbed to him, his mind too tired to do anything that it finally forfeited and let him rest.
You on the other hand, haven’t slept at all. Not a wink of it. You spent a bit writing up some reports and looking over at some case files but after you found that you couldn’t focus, you packed everything up and tried to get some sleep. Tried. You really did but as tired as your body was, your mind worked wonders in keeping you up.
The fight you had was your fore thought, mainly the look in Loki’s eyes when you said you weren’t sleeping in the same room as him. He always tried to look impassive in front of others but with you, his eyes held so many expressions of love and adoration, you saw none of that as he held your pillow.
You felt bad leaving him alone. The gesture alone of fixing your side of the bed was heart-warming, that it made you feel like a monster when you saw the look he gave you. Of absolute disappointment? It wasn’t the right word, but you felt like you took the one good thing he had and crushed it in front of him.
You tried to stave off such thoughts, thinking of your task for tomorrow and such but it wasn’t any use. Your mind was going miles per minute, and you just couldn’t keep up. You stayed on the couch for hours, laying on the furniture as your eyes stayed transfixed on a spiderweb on the ceiling. You grew restless overtime so the idea of making tea came to mind.
You thought it a good idea for a cup to help you, so you finally got up. You took the towel you used from the coffee table and hung it on a chair as you turned the kettle on. You grabbed a cup from the drying rack and dropped the bag of chamomile you got from the jar, as you waited for the water to boil.
It was then you heard a whimper. It came fast and low, you were beginning to think that you imagined it when you heard it again. You left the cup sitting on the counter as you went to investigate, looking all around the open space of the flat until it finally registered to you that it was coming from the bedroom.
Loki…
Fast steps quickly took you to the door of the room, which was left open and from where you stood, you heard his cries clearly. The room, gloomy when you entered had scarcely any light. The only source came from the dim lighting from the hall and the sliver of moonlight seeping through the curtains, but it was enough to help you at least see figures.
You moved to the general area of where the bed was and there you saw his figure, trembling slightly. From what you saw as your eyes further adjusted to the darkness, he laid on his side, his shirt damp with sweat, his face glistening and his hair sticking all over his neck and cheeks. He had a pillow in his hold, his head buried in the cushion, but the muffled whines and whimpers still persisted to reach your ears. It was your pillow.
It had been a long while since these terrible nightmares have plagued his nights. The last was far too long ago you hardly remembered it anymore. You remember how he once told you about it having something to do with you sleeping by his side. That something about you just calmed him and made his mind come to a peaceful state. The guilt you felt increased tenfold as the regret of leaving him alone ate you alive. You didn’t… you don’t… you couldn’t have imagined how much you had helped him without even realizing and now leaving him to his own devices… you felt like a pompous prick.
You sped to his side, whispering his name in hopes to arouse him but it proved to be futile.
You sat beside him, turning to the side to face figure. A finger reached to tuck the damp locks behinds his ears as you whispered his name again, hoping to get through his thoughts but it still wasn’t working. Your hands moved to cradle the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in hopes to stir him as you continued to say his name.
‘Loki’ you said softly, knowing using any other tone or pitch would only frighten him further. You moved your head next to his, your body twisted in an awkward position, but you couldn’t care less. You continued to whisper his name close to his ear, your thumbs caressing those sharp angled cheeks until he finally stirred.
You felt it. That light shake of his head as he finally starts rouse, as if shaking off fatigue and merciless thoughts that haunted his mind. You pulled away a bit to see him properly, wiping the beads of sweat that coated most of his forehead with the sleeve of your jumper as your other hand continued their gentle caress on his cheeks. He had a furrow that pulled his brows together and normally you would have found it adorable but right now you only hoped to remove it.
He blinked slowly, gathering his bearings to check if he was truly out of the agonizing torment his mind had conjured. He was losing you. It was scene after scene of ways he loses you and all of it was his fault. From you leaving him after an argument, to the image of the mad titan snapping your neck in his grasp as he watched. Each scenario broke him in every way, and he just couldn’t bare it.
The sight was still fresh in his mind as he finally started to ebb away from the drowse of sleep. Then as panic set him as he realized and processed what had happened, he didn’t notice the soft whisper of his name or the caress of your delicate fingers. He was on the verge of complete panic, tears welling up his eyes when he felt it. You.
Your voice. You touch. Your scent. Everything. It all enveloped him to the point It became overwhelming, but he wanted it. To suffocate in everything you, to banish those horrid thoughts away.
‘y/n?’ he whispered meekly, still questioning whether he was still in the throughs of his nightmare.
‘I’m here, It’s okay. It’s just a nightmare’ you replied as tears started to pour from his eyes and cascade down his cheeks.
‘I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave me’ he heaved, his voice shaking with every word, it broke your heart to hear him so broken. His arms moved to wrap around you, having a tight hold on your waist, leaving the pillow, as he wept.
You could only do so much to keep your own tears at bay, but you managed to stay strong. Your fingers wiped much of the tears, but they only continued to flow so you pulled him in to hide in the crook of your neck.
‘Shhh darling. It’s alright, I’m here, I promise’ you said in his ear, knowing his cries would only muffle his hearing. He cried and cried, apologizing just as much in between but you still dismissed every single one.
‘Shhhh, you’re okay darling. It’s only a nightmare, it’s alright’ you moved your body to lay on the bed fully, settling beside him comfortably as you held him tight. Your fingers weaved through his obsidian locks, scratching his scalp in hopes to console and comfort him in anyway as he continued to heave on the crook of your neck.
It broke your heart to see him like this. Frightened to the bone like a little boy, shivering as if dunk in the oceans of the arctic. All those years of suffering topped his insecurities and the lack assurance and consoling care throughout most of his life… of course he was afraid. Of the possibilities this life held. He’d seen the worst parts of it, of course id be difficult to peer outside that little protective box he hid in. And your argument certainly didn’t help matters.
He cried for a while and you let him. Bare his vulnerability to you and it was your honour to be shown this fragile part of him. You’d treasure the trust he had in you, to keep him safe in times like these. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him, especially like this. You love him too much.
He calmed down after a little while, still letting out soft sniffs and whimpers every once and a while, but he had calmed down. You placed a soft kiss on his temple, an assurance of sorts before pulling back to face him but his grip only tightened, a whine escaping his lips as he hid himself further in the safety of your hair.
He didn’t want you to pull away for fear of you having enough of him, but he wouldn’t have it. He couldn’t.
You hushed him softly, running a hand through his inky locks and caressing his scalp, assuring him you weren’t going anywhere and only meant to talk to him. He was reluctant but he gave in, nodding the slightest bit before pulling away to face you.
His face was red, eyes bloodshot and puffy around the eyelids, looking down and anywhere but at you. Streaks of tears, dry and fresh cascaded down his sharp features, causing his unruly hair to stick. The look he gave you completely broke your heart, rendering it to mush whilst he had the decency to look so heartbroken.
You kept your composure as a finger swiped a way those stray locks, tucking it behind his ear before he nuzzled in the warms of your palm. Your thumb glided along the prominent angle of his zygoma, brushing away whatever moisture was left until you tilted his head up, by the chin, to look at you. His beautiful emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears however he still won’t look you in the eyes.
‘Loki’ his name came off your lips in a soft whisper, finally grabbing his attention. Now that you finally had it though, all words seem to have left you, your thoughts drawing blank. A sigh left your lips as you let your head drop to his, your foreheads pressed together as you closed your eyes.
‘I’m sorry’ you said blankly, your hand rising to come through his locks and to scratch his scalp. Whether it was for his comfort or your distraction, you wouldn’t know.
He shook his head, dismissing your apology. Half of him didn’t know what you were apologizing for yet the other had an idea as to what, and even if it truly was what you were thinking, he knew that it was his fault.
‘No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have treated you as such, but please darling, forgive me. I cannot lose you, please. Don’t… don’t leave me’ he practically begged. He really couldn’t lose you. He just wouldn’t know what to do if he did, but he just knows he won’t survive it.
‘No, I must apologize’ you argued, continuing on before he could cut you off ‘My actions weren’t acceptable, but Loki… We cannot keep going on like this. I am my own person, I refuse to told what to do, let alone what I can’t. I refuse to be caged in the four walls of this flat like some treasured bird, I’m not. I will not be restrained. By some illness nor God or man. This won’t work if that is what you want’.
‘I know, I know. I-It’s not, It’s not what I want. I’m sorry but darling, I just can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it. Please, I won’t do it again, just please don’t leave me.’ He sobbed, dropping his head back down the crook of your neck and he held you in a tight embrace. You understood what he meant; you don’t think you could survive losing him too.
‘I won’t. I’m not leaving you. I would never. I'm staying’ You affirmed. You really wouldn’t, but you won’t stand being coddled to the brim.
You held on to each other tightly for a while. Just letting the others presence calm one another. Loki hidden in the arch of your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, while you laid your head on top of his, a hand mindlessly raking trough his gorgeous locks. It proved to be comforting for the both of you, evidently.
‘I only meant to protect you’ he mumbled with a sniff out of nowhere.
‘I understand, my love. And the best I could do is promise to be safe and extra careful. I won’t take too risky missions if that gives you a peace of mind.’ You offered. You knew he only meant well and cared for your safety. You love your job but often times, it was too dangerous, even for your standards after everything. Taking fewer and safer missions wasn’t a problem. As long as you had worked to do that involved helping people, you were satisfied.
You felt him nod his head lightly at the suggestion, causing a soft smile to bloom from your lips before placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. You didn’t see it but a small smile curved his lips as well at the feel of your lips on his skin. The touch starved part of him relishing in these small moments of affection like treasure.
Your free hand moved to caress his back when you felt how damp the fabric of his top was. The sweat he had worked up earlier still hasn’t dried and you knew how uncomfortable he would get bathing in the slightest bit of dirt, hence why you thought of getting him cleaned.
You place another kiss on his cheek before attempting to untangle yourself from him. The events of the nights had taxed the god, but you wanted to get him at least a bit clean before he fully dozed off however, as you tried to get off his loving embrace, his grip only tightened, his droopy eyes opening wide to see the commotion. 
‘Shhh, It’s alright. I just have to head out to the kitchen to check something and I promise, I will be right back my love’ you said softly to his ear, hoping his drowse would keep. He gave a tired huff before reluctantly setting you free. Your grin only grew wider, and you place a quick peck on his lips before you scrambled off the bed.
You quickly checked the kitchen to see if the kettle hadn’t burned and once assured, you left it as it was and headed to the loo to get what was needed. You took a small towel from the cupboard bellow the sink and ran it under the water to get it wet. Once it was fully soaked, you wrang the excess water from the towel and quickly grabbed a spare shirt from the wardrobe before going back to the bedroom.
The darling god had his eyes closed with your pillow once again tight in his grasp. This time, the sight made you smile. At how adorable he looked, face squashed on the cushion. You could tell how exhausted he was though, so you made haste in getting him set for night’s (hopefully) peaceful rest.
You sat beside him on the bed, the shifting of the mattress making him dare open an eye just as you were about to rouse him. He gave you that small charming smile of his when he saw you and your hand moved to cup his cheek, letting the pad of your thumb caress his now dried cheeks.
‘Can you sit up for me, luv’ you asked, leaning down to his ear. He gave you a faint nod before you sat back and helped him up. The fatigue was really getting on to him as he laid his head on your shoulder, so you made sure to finish as soon as possible to finally let him have a good night’s rest.
You gathered his hair into a pony with one hand and held it away, while the other wiped the damp cloth on the back of his neck. He flinched at the contact, having been spared a warning, you promptly apologized and moved as quickly as you could.
You wiped his face with great care, before you pulled his shirt off and threw it on the nightstand, to be put on the hamper after you were done. You wiped him all over until you deemed it enough and gave him the spare shirt. He put it on and just before you could leave the bed again, he took your hand. He gave you a pleading look that spoke volumes, and how could you resist when he gave you those doe eyes.
You gave him a soft smile, leaving the little towel beside the shirt and made your way to your spot on the bed. You got comfortable before you looked at him, staring at you with great fondness, it made you bashful yet you still opened your arms, welcoming him in to be held, which with great eager, he accepted. He laid beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he inhaled the scent of your hair, a welcome comfort after the course of the night.
You pulled the covers up to cover you both, but the feel of his soft lips just made you forget about everything but him, making you snuggle closer in his hold.
He had his head laid on the top of yours, his arms tied around you and your legs intertwined. An arm of yours cradled the back of his head, tangling to the roots of his inky locks while the other drew abstracts on his back. You held each other, never saying a word yet the silence was finally comfortable. A tranquil state you two could once again relish.
The silence however gave your mind room to intrude the peace, thinking of how things got to this point. From the argument, to the dismiss of each other’s presence and up until the confession after the dreadful nightmare, you admit that parts of how this ended up being the conclusion of the day, was your fault. Yes, Loki had his own mistakes in the matter, but you could have taken a point and fixed it. Why didn’t you get a grip and made the effort to make things better.  You shouldn’t ha…
A deep sigh broke you out of your trance. A squeeze, you felt you were given as arms around waist tightened and you were pulled impossibly closer to the mass holding you.
‘I can hear your gears turning, darling’ Loki mumbled, followed by a small chuckle, breaking the deafening comfort of silence. The sound was well welcomed after the tension of the day.
‘Sorry, luv. Go back to sleep’ you reply, scratching his scalp. He hummed in response, a smile pressing against your hair before a quick peck was planted on the top of your head. You grinned, closing your eyes, hoping to finally get consumed by the black oblivion that was rest.
The gentle caress on your arm helped, lulling you to a peaceful state of mind. Loki knew what helped you too.
Eventually the night drew on, painting the dark skies with stars as the two held each other, succumbing to blissful state of peace promised by slumber.
The night was a lesson for the two. To understand the other, to work out their problems and to never go to bed angry.
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grace-kami · 1 month
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Good morning, friends. How is everybody doing on this fine day?
I noticed I have hit somewhat of a wall with my art. I'm having a moment where everything I'm trying to make is not working the way I want. It's a little frustrating. I'm trying my best to keep posting more art regularly but I think a burn out is quickly approaching. I also have some stuff going on at home, nothing bad, my mom moved back to my state so we've been catching up with her for a while. I'm also a mother and a wife so I have to organize my time a little better. Finding my own personal time to chill and draw is limited as it is, and I don't want to stress myself out trying to get more art posted.
I'll still be posting my art! I'm not retiring, absolutely not. I'm still fully committed to the Lies of P community! I'm still shocked I gained as many supporters as I have, I don't deserve you guys. I'm just not going to be posting as often as I really dont want to fall into a full blown artistic burn out. I'm still doing my daily 30 minute to hour drawing practice to keep up my skill but most of my practice is not post worthy.
And I'm ALWAYS on my phone so if anyone wants to drop in my DMs and say hi, maybe talk about the game or ask about my art or show me your art, maybe even drop in my ask box, I'm always around. I'm a friendly lady, I promise.
Thank you guys so much for everything!
Much much love, my cute patoots!🫂❤️
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trickytrick · 8 months
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pete wentz’s reply to heychris’s hateful paragraph back in 05:
oh what a monster we've created.
when i am called by my manager to read a post that is burning through the internet it makes me wonder. ive never responded to rumours or shittalking online, no matter who it came from- at the same time there is nothing that makes my blood boil more than reading this- being who i am, my first instinct is to blow it off- but then i consider how anytime anything is written on the internet people believe its true- no matter what, no matter the biases or subjectivity of the sources. my first instinct is to lash out- to say everything i think about you and every situation- to defend myself and attack you. as unbelievable as it is- i am an extremely insecure person- everytime i read something about myself negative or positive i react in probably the exact same way anyone would.
but like i said- i am going to continue to do this my own way, what i consider to be the higher road. i understand when we get angry we often lash out- ive done it myself on many occassions. if you want to talk to me about any of this call me on my cell phone and we can do it one on one-
i will not be responding to anything else-
however, the attacks about our fans and the people that listen to this music and read these words is completely offbase- the fans of this band are my entire life- ive lost my girlfriend, my friends, much of my "normal" life- just to keep this relationship going- this isn't to say that i dont make mistakes, take misteps. just because youve seen me on tv or at a show doesn't make me anything less or more than humanyou dont ever see the other side of the way we agonize over every decision we make or try our best to please everyone- because we've given up in bands before and we know how it feels and we dont want that to happen. everyone in the band is upset about this- remember everyone that makes up fall out boy- they all wanted me to voice that we appreciate our fans and friends that weve met more than anything- and that we realize because of where we are all the arrows are pointed at us- but we will try our best. and we do try our best. we also, have far more faith in the intelligence and dedication of the people that believe in us to think that they will be swayed easily. if you want to hear other stories of how we actually talk about our fans or think of them please ask other bands, they will testify to how we really act. we just want you to know that in four years when noone cares, we still hope you are thereim not going to freak out or whatever, but please an attack on our fans or our relationship with them as a p.r. move is uncalled for.
this doesn't need to be reposted anywhere- i am sure that fob fans know where to find it.
chris if you want to talk the phone line is there.
i wrote this pretty fast so i apologize for the typos and run-ons.
until then, thank you to everyone who reserves judgment and has my back until the end of time.
- petey
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infxnatum · 1 year
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Blog Info (Rules and Such)
First off, apologies for how rough this is...I’m not very good at this kind of thing. And honestly, I’m pretty chill.
Basic Info
This blog is an 18+, Multiverse, Multimuse OC Blog with a few select canon characters from other blogs. I have many characters that I’ve developed for more than half my life at this point.
The main Universe of this blog is a story I’ve written (on paper, sorry you can’t read it). And while it will be referenced regularly, very little interaction will happen there.
I interact with many fandoms, though primarily Pokemon, Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel, and Sonic.
And last, I am 99.9% mobile bound. I just find it easier, honestly. And because I can use it at the same time as doing just about anything else. As such, trimming is not exactly easy for me.
Rules
Do not Follow or Interact if you are under the age of 18. If you do and I find out, you will be blocked. This is a heavily nsfw blog, both for dark themes and smut. I tag things and will often readmore when I feel like I should, but I dont like the idea of minors even potentially seeing it. 
The above does also include intermittent reblogging of NSFW art, though mostly artistic nudity and such. Often sensual rather than outright sexual...but sometimes the latter if I particularly enjoy a piece.
I am Selective but not mutual exclusive. I’m willing to give just about anybody a chance, but I do have limits and standards. And I do favor Mutuals over non-mutuals, as well as anyone I consider a close friend. I most often dont follow someone as a means to keep my dash clean.
I do block on site anything that even remotely seems like a bot. Super weird names, no icons alongside an empty blog. I think at this point most of us readily recognize them. So if you are interested in following, make sure you do at least the basic steps to show you are a real person.
I am pretty chill, and there’s nothing that really bothers me trigger wise. However, like many, I have no interest in drama and callouts. Keep me out of your problems, I’m here to have fun. And as someone who has suffered a lot because of false accusations and bandwagon culture...I just want to do what I do.
I can write anywhere from one liners to multi para, I do my best to match when the mood sets in. I’ll do any sort of threads, and have basically no lines (outside the obvious) to what kind of content might be involved. Smut, light violence (i.e. pokemon grade), fluffy threads, and crack are the most prominent.
I try my best to respond quickly, but muse comes and goes. I’ll draft when I dont reply, and as long as a random hiatus doesnt hit me, I should reply in a relatively good time. Please don’t bother me too much about it.
Unless otherwise specified, like something tagged for someone specific. Any ic post is free to be responded to.
I accept IMs, but only for OOC. And I don’t rp on Discord...the format just burns my brain out.
Not sure if there’s much else, rules wise that I can think of. Like I said, I’m not good at this, and I’m chill.
A little bit of mun stuff
I go by Raven, though I also accept Eclipse and Dusk as names. I am a 30+ mun, Cis-male, homosexual and mixed-ethnicity between Caucasian and Native American (a near 50/50 split).
I am autistic, have various forms of anxiety and depression, and adhd. I try my best to do what I can here, but it’s not the easiest sometimes. I have been known to go on long hiatuses and lose muses entirely for periods of time. It’s not on anyone but myself when that kind of thing happens.
I’ll be working on getting my characters moved to Posts so that I can link them better, since I know many people are mobile these days, and browser page links are iffy at best. Posts work better...when they are ready they’ll be below here. I’ll also give a list of my more important non-character tags when I’ve compiled them
----
Zenni - Main Muse, Most Active alongside Primal.
Tags: Renegade Raven [Zenni], Renegade in Hell [Goetia], Primordial Powerhouse [Primal], A Shadow’s Commentary
Aurora - Lower activity muse
Tags: Queen of Ice [Aurora], Glacial Commentary
Descartes - Relatively Active Muse
Tags: Gilded Angel [Descartes], Gilded Commentary
Anarak - Fairly Active Muse
Tags: The Living Paradox [Anarak], Quantum Commentary
Ruby - Highly active muse
Tags: R Rated Rabbit [Ruby], A Lover’s Commentary
Siegfried - Low Activity Muse
Tags: Steel Commander [Siegfried], Commanding Commentary
Glitter - Slightly Active, Pokemon OC
Tags: Silent and Sweet [Glitter], Silent Commentary
Lion and Rosebud - Divergent Lion from Steven Universe + Anthro AU (Normal and HH/HB)
Tags: Cotton Candy Caretaker [Lion], Wayward Warrior [Rosebud], Every Rose Has Its... [Thorn]
Discord - Fairly active. Canon divergent MLP muse
Osirus - Slightly Active, Pokemon Only (For Now)
Tags: The Archivist [Osirus], Gathering Information
Toril - Low Activity, Pokemon OC
Tags: Psionic Prodigy [Toril], Psionic Commentary
Lux - Low Activity, Pokemon OC, Mostly commentary
Tags: Galar’s Light [Lux]
The Twins
Damien - Helluva Boss OC
Tags: Soul Betwixt Worlds [Damien], Keeper of Balance [Neutral], Divine Adjudicator [Celestial], Heart of Hellfire [Infernal]
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battlemaiden13 · 1 year
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Hi hello! I dont think my og ask went through so i probably wont be able to recapture the excitement but!
So years ago when it was first starting up i read hnd and then kinda dropped it at some point but! I returned seeing it still updated!
My goal was to finish my reread before chapter 100 which i did last week and omg i completely fell in love w it once again!
I am like so particular about characterization of skeletons but as the fic went on I just loved seeing how u explore every single one of them more and more and just give them more quirks! And how eventually we start seeing their dynamics outside of mc! Its just so great! And i could honestly go off on a rant but this is already long ask ahaha
Anyway im edgy skeleton truther, end of chapter 99 left me in shambles and i cant wait for more!
(Also ur fic mightve motiveted me to draw some fanart but shshsh)
Oh my gosh!! No, HELLO! AH no, no your other one did send, it's here!! I just haven't been in the best headspace recently nor had the time to write back! Your other comment said it's been up since 2017 which is insane to me. I can't believe I've been writing it that long and that people are still reading it. I happy to see it's good enough to have people coming back to it XD
Congratulations on catching up! that's no easy feat I'm sure, I'm so happy that you love it to!! I have so many plans for the next like part of HND hopefully by chapter 200 she's dating the skeletons and we can get into some real juicy stuff. That seems like a slow enough burn right? XD
I'm really happy that you like the skeletons interactions! In future I might write some chapters just with the boys hanging out with one enough to deepen that too. I think it would be fun to explore characters who don't usually interact as often or even build better bonds. Berry and Blue have such a fun dynamic but I also love Blue and Red hanging out. If you wanted I wouldn't mind reading a rant about skeleton interactions and quirks XD
Chapter 99 is some of my best work. I've already had to re-read it a few times, something I've only done with a few chapters and I am in love. I made myself simp over the edgy boi. I really want chapter 100 to have more of those moments but there's a lot going on so it might have to be saved. Expect more of the sipping seen in chapter 99 to happen over the next stage of HND though because hot damn.
Holy heck please, please, if you've drawn anything please let me see it. I love fanart. Even if you want to send it on anon and request I don't post it, or tag me! It really makes my day. Of course if you don't want to that's fine to, I am really happy to know I've inspired you that much
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoy the next stage of this story as much as I will enjoy writing it
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commonwealthcass · 2 years
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Your back!!! I missed your posts so much! I hope your doing well and that we'll continue to see more of your posts :)
Thanks a ton! Im doing alright. Works hectic and I still have off days every so often but I'm much better than I was before.
Im going to work on a couple things that got sent in a while back and test the waters. Still getting back in the groove so I really appreciate the warm welcome back <3
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spikeinthepunch · 11 months
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i dont intend to say this like im putting myself down but when im burnt out or in an extended art block i do often look to what i have done in the past- maybe as a "was i doing something back then that i miss doing now?"
my art has shifted a lot over the years. im sure anyone whos followed for a long time would say so. ive gone through phases and styles and vibes of many kinds and theyre all very different. and theyre all times that sometimes i look back and think "maybe i should do that again". of course i need to avoid getting overwhelmed with the "i want to do this- no this- maybe that-".
But the hardest "change" in my art was probably a year ago when all that stuff happened with wcrp. which i wont reiterate- but it was forced. that was the big thing. and i think its whats hurt now that i have this burn out settling and i am looking at old art. I did hit a burn out last year after wcrp when i quickly dove into other fandoms like half life- i did what i often did, where i overexerted myself from hype and quickly burned out. but then i picked up mcyt which has been going strong for a year after leaving it for many years back.
when i look at whats changed about my art from then to now, i notice one big things, which i felt was obvious (and i deliberately did this)- i was going into that fandom simple. first it was a lot of lineart, no color. then i started adding some one flat color to bodies and sometimes minor effects done with the help of gradient maps. then i started using thicker brushes where i could, knocking out the need for clean details. then i started using the binary pen. i had a few detailed drawings in between but really so much of what i have done has been so simple.
and as i said, i did this on purpose. i got into this right after half life and i knew i was burnt out but i really wanted to draw anyways, so my plan was to do it like that! i wasnt very good with humans either so i didnt want to focus too hard on it anyways. and i certainly have liked this method. i enjoyed finding a way to draw that IS simple and doesnt put a lot of strain on me... it helps me no longer be a perfectionist as much as i used to
but at the same time its taken away some aspects that i liked about my art from 2020-early 2022. which was that i was so much more detailed than ever. my warriors art was very detailed, the designs were intricate, i drew a number of scenes just for the rps i loved, etc. i experimented quite a bit with coloring and shading and i still love a number of looks i tried, and i keep wanting that back. (ex 1, ex 2, ex 3)
interestingly i actually started to simplify that style too, esp as i got deeper into my own rp, and i know full well it was because i was also getting tired. used a lasso tool for markings, used less layers, dropped the texture and using a thin pen brush to make sketchier lines. (from this -> to this)
THE problem with these notes about simplifying stuff is that like. i rush things. i rush them SO much. and this has always been my biggest struggle, and what leads to annoyance with my current art and also to burn out. Burn out, caused by how much i am drawing, because im fast. drawing fast because i want to make content for the fandom i am focused on. art block because im not happy with my art, but im also too impatient to slow down and take my time and REALLY remember and realize what it is i want out of my art!
its a never ending cycle and sorry we're at the end of the post because i dont have a solution lol
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YES I DID IT... AN EVEN NUMBER!
But anyway onto like. A serious matter? Post? I guess.
Because I was thinkin’ back when I made a 400 follow forever, and then iirc I think a 500 follow forever? or something. idr. i know i did 2 follow forevers
and i dont think ill be doing any of those anytime soon again LOL
Being in this rpc since like... It’s very start. Watching things change, people come, go, make the bad relationships I did, get the never ending harassment I’ve gotten
STILL HERE, BABY.
With still a fresh coat of paint and having taken out some skeletons and garbage in my followers list not too long ago.
It’s been a little lonely, not gonna lie. I’ve really felt kinda.. I dunno. Uninspired? Lately, due to having such little mutuals now, or least active ones, and not really getting a lot of things going or worth note of attention.
But! Lately, honestly. I am following my own advice in thinking about the mutuals and besties I do have! Like, you know. I am so happy to have the people here that I do. People I can trust and feel safe with, who are genuinely interested in me and Molly and indulge me every now and again.
While my dash hasn’t been as active as it used to be, it does feel so much more cozy. Comfy.
Going forward with the changes I’ve made, and the things I wanna do, and finally opening myself up to new people as I am healing over the tremendous amount of times I’ve been burned and hurt before in this rpc ... It’s nice.
I really feel like a phoenix with this blog, yk? I may have burned things in the flames but I am arising into something new and growing optimism and healing!!
Even if I do still be getting the random hate, death threats, and people talking behind my back about me.. I don’t really care! I haven’t for awhile, anyway. Again I found the anon hate funny more often than not. I only worry that people will form pre judged opinions on me because of some people, but, then again, if someone wants to judge me based on word alone and thus is also buddy buddy w someone who doesn’t like me, why would I want to interact with them anyway?
But anyway. YEAH. Just rambling.
Thank you everyone who has been with me for this long, who has been here in my many downs and my ups, who have been nothing but supportive and just so warm and welcoming. And thank you to everyone who I may have just recently met and became mutuals with, for giving me a chance and showing interest with me and my silly liddle spider! :)
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Clarity #crackheadhour 4:44
theres gotta be something about the reoccuring dream trope where im climbing up stairs with hourdes of people all going in one direction and my legs are burning and im tired but i feel too much pressure i cant stop, its embarrasing to stop or slow down so i keep doing it and burning myself out
And......the trope of me finding and getting onto elevators and being shot in the air with ease often when im venturing off on my own and trying to "see the water", get out of the stuffy run of the mill claustrophobic boat, taking the elevator to see something magnificent, fresh air, freedom, wish fufillment....
Because i just read the dream where im climbing up but i get around the top and say "why am i doing this, just cause someone told me to why am i climbing in pain?" and sliding down into the snow....
and then of course the catch me dream starts with elevator and ends on me having to trust to fall down....with Liam.
Its gotta be about breaking out of the mold and what the masses are doing, going rogue, doing ur own thing, trusting source to achieve freedom and live in ur manifestations.
I think it also might be depicting how draining the alternative is.
And now im wondering??? If me being that weak in the limbs is related to the wheel chair stuff and cane stuff that Liam had. But im just either letting it get the point, or not using a wheel chair or cane because im not accepting help....or im not willing/taking time to heal.
The other thing is, Liam and i are perfect depictions of masculine and feminine energy and energy deficits being mirrored. If i help him how to see his worth, trust people, love unconditionally, express emotions (balance feminine energy), then he helps me stay organized, be logical, aka financial literacy, and longevity family/home/career plans for stability and providing.
Thats constantly what hes working on perfecting, he feels so less of value without those things squared away and up to his standards, and uses his hyperfixation on work and finances that he neglects his emotions
Now I! on the other hand spend all my time analyzing emotions, doing this, expressing myself and i avoid anything logistical to do with my everyday life and future like the black plague. I write tumblr posts and read tarot to avoid doing that.
Thats why we're twins and perfect matches, we counter balance ourselves and teach and provide where the other is lacking...
So now consider this....
If three years ago i had a dream with Liam with a wheelchair/cane, and me able bodied, by his side to help him heal. Meaning it was first on me to do my part, help with emotions. "Well i think youre beautiful"
then when i met garrison it happened in real life.
Now, i'm having dreams where i'm the weak and wounded one. So it feels like its liams turn to come help with his part, the STABILITY, the MONEY, the HOME !!!!!
Doesnt that make hella sense? Thats what all the cards are saying, and specifically what he keeps working on is, feeling finacially stable and abundant enough to come in and offer me commitment, and im always like why?? Like i know liam was hyperfixated on getting a house and a wife, and a wealthy job, but he must know that i dont care about that and see his value otherwise.
BUT TO HIM thats his side of the bargain, thats gonna be his strength! Its not about whether or not it matters to me, its just supposed to happen, its a part of the plan. And that makes sense because it seems abundantly clear that he has solved the emotions part, he realized why he ran, he realized how he hurt me, but the only way in his eyes he feels he can return the favor equally would be coming in as the masculine with the money, and the stability.
Tah dahhhh
was gonna name this high thoughts but i think i actually mightve cracked it
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stardustfarm · 2 years
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this has nothing to do with stardew valley oops 😅
But this is sorta a call-out to check the tumblr rp community interest in a plot I’ve been craving to write.
Firstly, I’m requesting for someone to join a jcink forum rp to write this out. It is 18+, some of the more disturbing topics banned so it’s a pretty safe space, and I myself am 30 so I’m kinda looking for someone close to my age. Let’s say 25+ at least.
The genre is alternate universe Harry Potter, & just as a disclaimer: I do not support, endorse, or really even think of jkr. Her transphobic views are unspeakably damaging and indefensible. I started RP in this genre almost a decade ago and so it holds a unique place in my heart. I consider the community I’m in as a safe space that has ripped this world back to be used by any and all as they wish to; not just in the way this horrendous person meant for us to consume it.
With that said, here’s a few less serious things of note:
- site has no word count,
- two versions of a character app, neither very long & one offering a free form section to get creative with if you wanted
- very lax activity rules; it requires one post a month to be considered active
- since I’m requesting a professor character, I want to note that there are no requirements to hold classes. you’re free to if you want, but yeah it’s not required
I consider myself an intermediate-adv writer. I can write anywhere from 2 - 10 paragraphs depending on what’s going on. I adore headcanons, sharing Pinterest boards (& creating them for ships), and just generally gushing over our characters.
I’d like to chat a little one on one before I get to sharing the link to the forum, so we can test our chemistry since we’ll be writing a romance and er, tbh, I’ve had this plot burning a hole in my back pocket for literally years and I’ve only gotten to the very beginnings a few times. I’m really searching and hoping for someone who’ll be as engaged and willing to write this plot as I am, so before reaching out to me please do consider if you’ll have time for this.
At the very least, I just really, really would love to get far enough into the story that I could feel comfortable letting it go and putting it to rest finally if we don’t get to see it through… ^^’
That said I am an understanding and patient partner. My personal life can get very busy between a big family and rather social friends, so I totally get when life pulls you away from the rp. I’d just appreciate honest communication- If you get tired of the plot or bored or just can’t continue it because of reasons you DONT need to explain to me, I 100% will understand and will not hold it against you. I get it. No stress. And no expectations to come back to it, so trust that I will never bother or pester for anything.
Jesus I didn’t mean to write so much, sorry!
The Basic Details: slow burn, reunited old flames; mutual pining, lots of fluff w/ a dash of angst. Age range 32-35, I’m looking for a female writer to create a blonde female witch to pair up with my wizard. Suggested fc is Sarah Gadon, but any blonde could work as long as it isn’t Tswift.
If that summary caught your interest & you’re okay with joining a forum rp for it, please continue to the read more to get a more in-depth description.
So it’s essentially a case of right person, wrong time, and the intention behind it is for them to end up together again after growing up, apart. They aren’t first loves or anything, but they are certainly as close to soulmates as anyone can get.
Sharing traits such as being perfectionists, bookish, having strong moral compasses, craving order and routine, they are wholly harmonious with the occasional bumps to keep things from reading too perfect. They met in an Apothecary - the requested female character working there and mine visiting often to purchase ingredients for work as he was under a potioneering apprenticeship after graduating from Hogwarts.
Mine is 35, and I was requesting an age as close to that as possible (if not the same) just to help keep timelines pretty close. If they’re the same age I could see them running in different circles at Hogwarts to keep them from being too close, as I’d like the beginnings of their bond to really start until their late teens, early 20s after meeting in that Apothecary. She could also have graduated from another European school, and just ended up working in this apothecary!
I’d like to keep a fair bit of it open so there’s totally room for more places where the characters diverge, but in essence my character has always sought out a peaceful, humble life, while the requested character came from some struggle or hardship and simply wanted to contribute to the world in some way.
In keeping with that, I was thinking she sought out a career that was either dangerous, such as Auror/Hit Witch, or possibly culturally impacting like a Curse-Breaker. To be honest I personally am leaning to requesting Auror/Hit Witch, but it is open!
Something happened to her in the course of her career that made her leave it. Maybe an injury, the loss of a colleague, maybe she found herself in some kind of trouble and being placed on nonnegotiable leave herself. Or, maybe it was just harder to enact change/contribute in the way a hopeful twenty-something had originally wanted and she just… got lost. Needed a break. Whatever the source, she’s ended up at Hogwarts to teach where she meets up with my character again.
& from there I just imagined my character being as smitten as when they first met, but he’s… hesitant. They hadn’t been in contact. Has no idea if she’s with someone or like, if she’d ever be into him again. I’m such a sucker for fluff so I was hoping she’d be equally as smitten in return but for the same or similar reasons, there’s a lot of hesitancy.
It is mutual pining to the max. There’s lots we can discuss as far as conflict / angst.
The classes available for claiming are pretty slim, I won’t lie. There’s been an influx of new people so, stuffs gotten taken. But Herbology is still free to claim, and I assume if she worked at an apothecary, she also has a passion for potion brewing they maybe comes from, or doubles as a love of plants and gardening.
I look forward to connecting with anyone! Let’s write something super cute and self indulgent 😅
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Caught Red-handed
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines 
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can. 
Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤
The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.
Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!
Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.
That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.
“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“
I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”
He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”
I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”
Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort. 
Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.
I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.
Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.
‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘
Well shoot, am I that transparent?
I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.
“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“
Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.
“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.
However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.
“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“
I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?
I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“
Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”
Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.
So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?
Good question, brain, good question.
Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.
“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through. 
I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”
Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.
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Umm, wait. It's more a 15x20 rant than an analysis. I'll call it... a ranalysis. 😏
I just saw J*reds last online panel again, where he called the finale "magical full circle storytelling". 15x20 is his "favourite episode ever" because he "is a fan of good storytelling". Uh-huh... Okay. So the following just was built on pure rage. This makes it more of a rant than an analysis. As usual. You guys know me.
Well. There are various possibilities here, Jared. Possibility A is, you are lying, what I do not believe. To lie that obvious you have to be a talented actor, which you are not. Possibility B is, you really think that way. You believe, the finale was "magical full circle storytelling" and you actually loved it, it was indeed your favourite episode. This again brings me to the only conclusion: You have no fucking idea about good storytelling, not even decent storytelling.
Lets look at every single ending, shall we?
Dean. We all know you think Deans death was a "success story." You think that Dean "ultimately gave his life for his number one on planet." I am sitting here, laughing in pain. First of all, let me say that Dean didn't died for Sam, Jared. He didn't took a bullet for Sam or sacrificed himself or whatsoever. He died in the most ridiculous accident I've ever seen. But lets go back to the very start.
Dean’s childhood was highly abusive. Dean was 4 years old when he saw his mother burning alive and learned that monsters are real. In that age he developed PTSD and stopped talking. Dean had a childhood with a father that was an alcoholic and physically and mentally abusive, who had believed that Dean had a “killer instinct". When Dean was about 6 years old, John forced him into a nurturing role for Sam. In the same age Dean was forced into the soldiers role as well when John taught him how to shoot and hunt. Dean had to obey orders without questioning. If he acted “out of line,” (aka something John didn’t like) John chewed him out or left them alone. Dean was trained to be Daddy’s blunt instrument. Dean gave up his own life to keep Sam safe, because he had no other choice. More than a brother Dean had to be a father and a mother to Sam. He suppressed everything, every psychological pain, every emotion, he just lived to protect Sam and to obey as Johns blunt soldier. Short: Dean gave up HIMSELF for Sam and John. Not because Dean wanted to, because he was forced into it! Dean hated himself, he was suicidal. He was convinced he isn’t worthy of anything, especially not being loved. Dean never had a life for his own, never had a choice, never had a chance, never had own original thoughts, never felt safe or loved. He was used to being left. He felt like he was nothing. Worthless. He was dead inside. Broken. You get what I mean, Jared? Since you own a mental health campaign, you should. And guess what Dean did? He kept fighting. Despite everything, he kept fighting. And his mindset slowly changed. He understood that his father was an abusive bastard, he unterstood that he was forced into a life he never wanted. He understood that he is more than that, that he is not like John. He changed. He opened up. He even wanted to retire. And now it gets interesting, because something happened that REALLY is the start of magical full circle storytelling. Something in Deans mind clicked while Cas' confession. His confession was fundamental to Dean to finally accept his own goodness and the value of his life and love, of his identity. It was the moment of breaking free of the structure that had controlled and corrupted him his entire life. It was the only way out of his abusive and traumatizing cage to experience something for his own the very first time. For the first time in his life he had a chance. A choice. The start of his very own life. Free will, baby! Well, no. Because exactly in that moment he stumbled into a nail and died. Do you even realize how dumb this is? Do you even realize what you did? Wait, it gets worse. Yeah, that's possible, even if you dont believe it. In heaven he goes right back to the life he has spent his whole journey learning to free himself from: Left only with the persons he had been forced, time and time again, to sacrifice his identity, goals, and soul for. None of the family, support, or love, nothing he has built or chosen for himself remains. This is not magical full circle storytelling, Jared. This is abysmal pointless butchering. This has NOTHING, not a single percent of magical or good storytelling! YOU call that magical? YOU call that a success? Seriously, what shit are you on? If it would've been full circle storytelling, there is not one single fucking possibility that Dean would've died in the end. I don't know whats going on in your twisted brain, but Deans death never was and never will be a success. To make it magical full circle storytelling, he MUST have been the one who survives and overcomes his trauma (and raise a certain someone from perdition.)
Sam. He's actually the one who kinda got the best ending, huh? I mean, it was fucking horrific, but it was the best if you compare it to the others. When Sam was young, he wanted a normal life far away from hunting, while the truth is, Sam always was more like John than Dean ever will be. Over time his mindset clearly changed. He even said: "When Dean came to get me at school, I told myself, one last job, you know, (...) it was always one more job and then I was gonna go back to law and to my life. I guess, I really understand now that THIS is my life. And I love it." Sam couldn't imagine a normal life anymore. He had the chances for that and he declined. He loved hunting. He loved working and making progress with the BMOL, he very much enjoyed being a MOL and even took the lead often. I can clearly picture Sam as the lead of a rebuilt version of the MOL, that would've made sense. What did Sam get? Right, the ending he didn't wanted anymore, but since we yeet every single development of every single character out of the window, Sam has to be Season 1 Sam again, BUT with a fancy party wig! And there he is! And what a happy life he lives, exactly what he wanted, woohoo! So much joy, so much fun! Oh look, there is BlurryWife™, who Jared made sure is not Eileen, because “Dean wouldn’t want Sam to be with Eileen”. But wait, didn't Dean wanted Sam to be with Eileen? Didn't Dean literally said: "If it was to work, Eileen, you know... She gets it, she gets us, she gets the life. You could do worse. And she could certainly do better, like SO much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy." Yeah, NO. This was just a writing AND acting AND producing mistake and had no matter at all. *cough* So... As you can see, magical storytelling strikes again. I can feel the magic, I can feel the full circle, it's... Amazing...
Castiel. Castiels story was magical, it was mindblowing. I've never in my entire life seen such a meaningful and deep storyline and I mean this. It's fucking massive. There is this blunt angel soldier, one of the post powerful forces, who was built to blindly obey, who lived for aeons of years, who wasn't supposed to feel anything, but he fell for a broken, suicidal, abused human who never felt loved or worthy the very moment he touched him. He fell so hard he rebelled against his own race, against his own family, against everything he had without any safety. He was the ONLY one in Chuck-knows-how-many universes who GREW outside of Chucks CONTROL! His love was so fucking massive, it couldn't be controlled by the God who built every-fucking-thing. Chuck built millions(?) of parallel universes, heaven, hell, life, death, purgatory, the empty, he created every single being, the light, darkness, every single angel, demon, leviathan, monster, animal, plant, sea, blade of grass, every centimeter of mountains, the four seasons, emotions, what the fuck ever. Everything you can ever think of, Chuck created it. And he controlled it. In every single one of his fucking millions of universes. But not Castiel.This is actually not possible. You can't outrun god. You can't outrun the one who creates, writes and controlles everything. But Cas did. Out of love. And not only that, you also imply that what happened between Dean and Cas was the only thing  that was real. Everything else was corrupted, controlled, manipulated, written by Chuck. But what happened between Dean and Cas, he couldn't affect.
Seeing Cas standing there, crying, confessing his love to Dean actually even makes me think that Dean made Cas human. Dean completed Cas. Cas didn't simply said "I love you", he actually said "In all existing universes, in all millions, all aeons of years, you are my only happiness." And Cas completed Dean. He freed Dean. While Dean was used to being left, was used to feeling worthless and unlovable, Cas saw Dean exactly the way he is and chose to stay. With every obstacle, every difficulty he loved him even more and yes, freed him from the abusive structure that had controlled and corrupted him his entire life. Something that no one else could, not his parents, not Amara, not God, not even Sam. Beautiful, isn't it? Unique. Mindblowing. Pure. You enjoyed it? Let's fuck this up in 3...2...1...
Castiels story ended exactly the same way it started. A blunt angel who doesn't care about people and feelings, blindly carrying out instructions from a new God, obeying heaven. No progress. They threw away 12 years of character development and managed to give him the same stupid and senseless ending like they did with Dean. Dean died and Cas... Wasn't there?! WHAT!? There is no single fucking way Cas wouldn't save Dean or wouldn't be there when Dean enters heaven! There. Is. No. Fucking. Way! The way they represented Cas in the end doesn't only imply that Dean isn't important to Cas anymore, he even ended up exactly the same way as if Season 4-15 wouldn't have happened. The ending is exactly the same! He's with God in heaven, supporting him with instructions, not caring about anything else.
Okay, I got it. Summarizing you can say: Jareds "magical full circle storytelling" is to yeet 95% of the past 15 years. No other characters matter, the story itself doesn't matter, every single characters development doesn't matter, it even doesn't matter what the brothers really want, they don't get it anyway.
Okay. But that's not all. As if this wasn't bad enough, they didn't just butchered ... EVERYTHING, they also salted and burnt every single Mantra they ever stood for. I'll make these short, I promise!
Team Free Will. *snort* Dean couldn't escape his fate, he always believed he'll die on a hunt as Daddys blunt instrument and he did. He kept fighting to die exactly the way he felt he was "supposed to". Message? No matter how hard you keep fighting, no matter how long you'll keep it up, you can't escape your fate. Sam couldn't change his fate, he ended how he started. Cas couldn't change his fate, he ended how he started, same for Jack, he ended how he was supposed to. YEET THE FREE WILL, NONE OF THEM CAN CHANGE ANYTHING!
Family don't end with  blood. The biggest lie that has ever been told. Do I even have to explain that? No need, right? Don't make me wanna throw up again, please. We all know that 15x20 blasted "Family don't end with blood" in millions of pieces.
Always keep fighting. THE AUDACITY to praise that while Dean is dying! After everything Dean has dealt with, It makes me wanna scream. Dean kept fighting, he always kept fighting, no matter how hard it was, no matter what forced him to his knees, he stood up again, and if he wasn't able to stand up, he crawled. He kept fighting no matter what, despite everything. His mindset changed. He wanted to live, he wanted to experience things, feelings and people differently or even for the first time. He changed. He wanted to retire, toes in the sand. He knew he earned it. Thats why he kept fighting. For what? To die the very first moment he had a free will. To die the very first moment he had a choice, had a life to build for himself. Always keep fighting, but the moment you come close to what you want, what you fought for, you die. It's been more than 3 months and I am having tears in my eyes while typing this. As for Dean, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how long you fight, you don't reach what you deserve anyway. Give up. As for Sam, AKF leeds to Emptiness. Grief. Psychological Trauma. Mental illness. Absolutely nothing worth fighting for.
I wanna go cry now, bye.
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wowsoboring · 3 years
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Deconstructing baseless Harry Potter arguments #1: Harmony Edition
There’s a very helpful account on instagram (this instagram page merely gathers toxic harmony shippers, they don’t ship Harmione or hate all Harmione shippers, please don’t send them hate, show them love and support) where you can essentially find stupid fucking bashers who make baseless arguments. I’m all for Harmione shippers, as long as they don’t denounce Romione, bash Ron and just peacefully co-exist. To my pleasure, such people are out there: they just dont seem to be seen as often as the ones that are not nice. Maybe all I see is the mean people and the majority is nice, but in this post, I am attacking those who make baseless claims and bash Ron/Romione/Hinny/Ginny. I don’t myself hate all Harmione shippers. On top of that, as a Romione/Ron fan, i do acknowledge Ron’s character flaws along with Hermione’s and I hold them on the same pedestal.
This is copied directly from my own instagram page, granger.weasley_ on ig.
Anyways let's get deconstructing
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rebuttal:
Yeah okay mf; maybe don’t compare real-life relationships with fucking fictional ones. Your relationship going wrong has nothing to do with Ron/Hermione. It has everything to do with you and your ex: the *real life* people involved in it.
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rebuttal:
The weird subreddits and discord servers also seem to have a lot of die-hard Harmione “non-canon” shippers. They bash Ron and Romione (along with Ginny and Hinny) with a burning passion without any objective sense of remorse. They ignore all the merits of Ron’s character and bash him to push their agenda. They can’t even do so much as fucking acknowledge any of Hermione’s character flaws but still somehow manage to fixate on that one time when 11 year old Ron just shit-talked one line while Hermione had just publicly humiliated him in front of the Charms class and practically shouted at him for doing the spell wrong just before. I personally don’t because Hermione was 11 too and wasn’t that good at social cues that early on, which is more than okay. Neither am I.
Only a few people in the Romione fandom bash Hermione. And it’s not like Harmione shippers (most, not all!) don’t bash Ron and Ginny remorselessly, right? The fucking hypocrisy.
If someone considers Ron as the best member of the trio, it is their own opinion and not a fact. I do that. If you consider Harry and Hermione as the best member of the trio or in the whole wizarding world, most people don’t give a flying fuck and probably won’t argue with you because it is simply an opinion. That will only happen when you pass that off as a fact.
Statistically speaking, most (not FUCKING all) Harmione moments are in the movies. The weird dance scene especially. The passionate kiss that happens in Ron’s vision, shit like that. Ron is pushed to the sidelines in the last set of movies while Harry and Hermione show each other endless love and support. “I’ll go with you”. The books on the other hand, describe Harry and Hermione as siblings multiple times, with very little Harmione references.
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rebuttal:
So you don't want us to fixate on the large majority of Harmione shippers who do the exact same thing, just kissing Hermione's and Harry's ass and hating on Ron. However you will fixate on people who are most likely not EVEN bashing or hating but pointing out a few character flaws in Hermione in a fair and unbiased way. I would know, I'm a huge fan of Hermione as an individual character (in the books). The only criticism I've seen of Hermione to this day has not been bashing. In the comment section of my own fics (shameless plug) I've seen some Hermione bashing. On an ao3 comment section. And I've seen so damn fucking many people bashing Ron, Ginny, the Weasleys etc. and garner tens and thousands of upvotes on quora.
What does Ron even need excusing for? The running away incident and Krum. What does Hermione need excusing for? Canaries, contributing to Ron's insecurities by making him jealous through Cormac and Krum even though she didn't even like them (especially not Cormac, she fucking hated him). Ron wore a locket that literally highlighted his fatal flaw (insecurity) in an echo chamber. Harry kept getting annoyed when Ron wanted to check in on his family. Harry asked Ron to leave; Ron didn't say that shit in the books about Harry's parents being dead: that was plain shock value.
And sorry for repeating myself but I have seen quite a few Harmione shippers bash Ron and Ginny and excuse every single thing Harry and Hermione have done.
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37 upvotes on this weird comment that makes no sense? Echo chamber alert! You know what us Romione/Ron fans all have in common? We have never experienced such an echo chamber. I made a pro Ron/Romione post on reddit and got a considerable amount of people who bashed Ron and Romione in the comments.
The amount of Hermione haters is very few compared to Ron bashers. Nobody hates Hermione for being independent, determined, etc. We dislike perfect movie Hermione who’s an unrealistic image of females and seems like some sort of agenda than a real woman. Most Romione shippers/Ron fans and book fans in general (except for you apparently) dislike movie Hermione and still are fans of realistic book Hermione. Most, not all. In general, we do not claim anyone who does the exact same thing to Harry and Hermione that these sorts of Harmione shippers do to Ron, Romione, Hinny and Ginny. I say this on the behalf of all Romione shippers and Ron fans.
Ron's not a bitchy lay-about drama causing loser. That's Steve Kloves's movie Ron. In the books Ron is realistic and simplistic and apologizes whenever he causes problems. He acts up substantially twice in a span of 7 years where he is also a hormone-fuelled teenager.
This is so contradictory and juxtaposed to the point of near delusion. First you talk about how Romione shippers bash Hermione and then you bash Ron as a Harmione shipper. Mate, fighting fire with fire will get you called a hypocrite. Fix yourself.
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So the movies are fine when they work according to your agenda? And yes how dare he add such a (fake) chemistry fuelled moment between Harry and Hermione while defeating the entire purpose and groundwork for Romione, the sadness caused by Ron leaving and so many more things? Those Harmione moments you mention seem friendship -esque more than anything else.
Steve Kloves's moments ruined many things while just paying fan service to the Harmione fans he'd birthed through years in the course of 6 movies where he showed Ron as a, how you so eloquently describe it, lay - about drama causing bitchy loser, Harry as one dimensional and Hermione as a zero - dimensional Mary Sue who might as well be the main titular character. Obviously Harmione fans such as yourself don't see the problem with it as it fits your narrative
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We do care about Harry and Hermione at large. Most Romione shippers rightfully bash Draco, Pansy, etc. not particularly Harry and Hermione, that's quite rare. Harry and Hermione can get along without Ron as friends. Ron and Harry can also get along without. Hermione as friend. So can Hermione and Ron without Harry as friends or more. I don't understand your point and how what you said is any different than Romione or Ronarry’s friendship.
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Constant arguing is not what they do. They bicker, they apologize, and sometimes they just do it for the heck of it. They are argumentative teenager. Opposites attract doesn't work in the sense of fire and ice, it works in the case of Brownie and ice-cream. Ron is passionate, laid back and insecure. Hermione's passionate, a workaholic and not as insecure. Ron can help her get calm and composed and get her to give herself a break. Hermione can motivate Ron and re - enforce his confidence.
It wouldn't be step incest. Harry and Ginny do not regard each other as siblings. They do not look similar whatsoever. And a Harmione shipper also bashes Hinny and Ginny along with Ron and Romione? Checks out
" that fucked up Harmony" hahaha. What?
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Are you literally going to date someone on the basis of what Harry Potter ships they prefer? That is so shallow end depraved. Your Harry Potter ship preferences should not be the groundwork for your dating life. Please understand that. Harry Potter is a fictional world which is not real. Hogwarts doesn't exist. Magic doesn't exist. I sound like a Dursley but that's what it is: a fictional realm with fictional character. I would personally not give a fuck if my best friend or significant other was a Harmione shipper. In the case of them being a Ron basher, I would ignore it as if it was just a minor inconvenience and something we wouldn't be discussing and that's how it should be with you. Fuck BuzzFeed, your opinion on what Harry Potter ship / character is your favorite says squat about your personality and relationship with others in a romantic or platonic context. But who cares? Live your life however you want. I'll be stoic.
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It's not opposites attract rubbish or high school opposites attract. Ron and Hermione aren't polar opposites like I said, they are a bit different but similar too in many ways. They have a lot more in common than Harry and Hermione. Ron and Harry have the most in common. Both Ron and Hermione are passionate, loving, argumentative, caring, etc. Your argument lacks substance. It's biased trash. And what does “obhwf " mean?
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at the end of the day, i’m just an annoyed teenager. I try my best to be open-minded to people but only as long as they are too. I tried to use my brain more than my feelings for this post. 
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skwigle · 2 years
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Man. Saw a post earlier about someone making their new years resolution to Absolutly Finish a fully colored art piece a month. Obviously theres nothing wong with this and pushing yourself a little never hurts but.
Its something i see so much from other artists.: "I should draw more" "i need to draw more" "i haven't been drawing much" like!! Friend!! You're allowed to Not Make Things!
Your status as an artist wont ever change whether you make art every day or once a year. I'd call myself an artist and I can go months without touching a pen.
Sure I've gotta get back into the swing of things but the whole time I was still an artist!
And I press all this because viewing this activity thats so heavily rooted in inspiration and recreation, its such a damaging mindset to think you need to force yourself to create! Youre gonna burn out and keep smoldering if you stress so much over your status.
Which is another thing I think we don't talk about. We all are very familiar with burnout in This Day And Age. But we dont often talk about Smoldering. When youre so stressed about trying to recover from your burnout and get out of it as fast as you can. No!! Let those embers cool!
Its okay to say "oh i just doodled a l bit in February" "oh i was into other things last April" "I'll draw when I feel like it"
Its such an important thing that people remember, you're here to have fun.
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