#this started as a shitpost drawing but then I spent too much time on it

[maripolifan]

How to talk to short people: ~A helpful guide by All Smite~

1) Assert dominance by demolishing them in a fight

#my art #maripolifan #endeavor #enji todoroki #toshinori yagi #all might #all smite #bnha #endmight #this started as a shitpost drawing but then I spent too much time on it #...as usual 💀 #it didn't help that I had (and have) lots of exams #endsmite

[asimperingswannsong]

Larissa’s Reluctant Romance

Part 3 of my messy shitposting…I’m determined to do a part 4 ADHD be damned…we’ll see.

Larissa/Wednesday

The school year quickly began to draw to a close after Larissa returned from her weekend trip. She’d resumed her normal routine and accordingly one evening around 7pm she was buried in paperwork at her laptop when she noticed the door dividing her office from her apartment slowly swinging open. She thought that was very odd so she got up to investigate. She saw the flickering of a flame coming from her dining room doorway and entered to find a spring bloom scented candle lit on the table next to a plate of her favorite pasta and a glass of red. She took that to mean that Wednesday disapproved of her missing dinner time. She decided since it was already there and it smelled delicious she may as well make time to enjoy the pasta.

This became something of a routine with Wednesday leaving dinner plated on the table once or twice a week next to a small arrangement she’d collected from the grounds - Larissa feigned ignorance when her groundskeeper noticed the missing blooms and complained. Sometimes it was dinner and a new book, usually poetry.

Finally the last week of school arrived. On the day before the students were set to return home, Larissa found dinner accompanied by a soundtrack coming from her record player. Wednesday had recorded some of her pieces. This was the best gift so far. Larissa adored Wednesday’s cello playing. She looked forward to being able to play it when she liked.

The year ended and the students left in a mass exodus. At first Larissa stayed busy scheduling in service meetings for staff over the summer. Eventually though things settled down and she started to notice herself feeling lonelier than usual. She hadn’t previously struggled over the summer. She caught herself thinking she was missing her ‘dinner dates’ and then immediately recognized how bizarre the thought was.

She decided she needed to find ways to occupy her time. She started by planting a small herb garden in containers on her balcony. She took another weekend trip, complete with too much shopping. Finally she settled on painting workshops she’d seen a flyer for at the local bookshop.

Larissa used to love painting but she hadn’t allowed herself the time to indulge in it in years. She thoroughly enjoyed herself for a little over a month before she started to pull back as she started interviewing and hiring for open positions for the upcoming school year. This was followed by a few weeks of helping the new hires settle in and acclimate.

One morning, Ms. Thurgood, one of the new maintenance workers stopped by her office. “Good morning Ms. Weems.” “Good morning Ms. Thurgood. How are you? Are you settling in nicely?” “I’m doing good thank you.” “What can I do for you?” “I had a question about one of the rooms in Ophelia Hall. I was cleaning in there and noticed a closet with a hasp and padlock on it. Do I need a key for cleaning it?” “I wasn’t aware there were any closets locked in that manner either. It maybe something a student did without permission. I’ll check into it. Where is it?” “It’s in the large double room on the top floor with the balcony facing the quad.” “Thank you Ms. Thurgood.”

Larissa made her way to the room that Wednesday shared with Enid. It had been years since she picked a lock but she’d spent enough time with Morticia that she manages after awhile to unlock the closet. Inside she found dozens of bags and boxes with luxury items: sunglasses, purses, heels, perfume, etc.

She knelt and dug through the packages. She started finding receipts. One of the purses and the sunglasses were dated within a few days of her birthday. These heels were bought just before she’d left for an educator’s conference out of state; and they perfectly matched the dress she’d worn. Apparently, Wednesday had continued buying her lavish gifts, but she’d started storing them here instead of giving them to her after Larissa had reprimanded her for it. Larissa stayed knelt down in the closet contemplating the shrine that had been built to her.

She replaced the lock, asked Ms. Thurgood to ignore the closet, and resolved to speak to Wednesday about it when she returned. Finally the summer ended and the students returned. Larissa was busy getting everyone and everything in order.

A few weeks in and things started to settle. One evening Larissa noticed Enid and Ajax making their way across the quad. No doubt they believed they were being discreet on their way to a make out session. Larissa made her way to Wednesday’s room.

She stopped outside and listened for awhile to the sound of Wednesday playing. This was a new piece she hadn’t heard before. Eventually she opened the door and stepped inside. She crossed the room and stepped out onto the balcony behind Wednesday. She noticed the title of the music she played started with LTPW; her initials.

“Wednesday?” She stopped playing and turned. “Good evening Principal Weems.” “LTPW?” “Your initials. I wrote the piece while thinking of you.” Why had Larissa half expected her to try and lie? Wednesday never shied away from the truth in its bluntest form.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me over the summer.” “I’m afraid I must disappoint you.” “I found all of the items you bought and locked away in the closet.” Wednesday broke eye contact, turning away. “I stopped giving them to you after you said you were made uncomfortable by them. But I found that continuing to buy things as I thought of you provided me with an outlet for feelings that I was otherwise unable to process.”

Larissa felt a tightness in her chest. She sympathized with Wednesday. She’d spent her school years here in an entirely one sided relationship as well. She hated that she was the cause of Wednesday’s unhappiness. She wished she could fix it. “Darling have you thought about trying to take your mind off of these feelings? Maybe you could try dating someone? There’s a new siren named Cleo who’s very pretty.”

Wednesday felt patronized by Larissa’s unsolicited advice. She felt she was trying to pawn her off on someone else; she was an unwanted burden from which Larissa wished to be rid.

“Has that worked for you?” “What do you mean?” “Have you been able to cure yourself of being in love with my mother by dating other people?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about Wednesday.” “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve found a sort of twisted cosmic humor in the knowledge that you’ve spent years pining over Morticia without her acknowledging it and now her daughter is doing the same with you.” “What makes you think I’m in love with her?”

“I’ve seen visions of the two of you together,

making love in the moonlight, in this room; right over there.” She pointed to Enid’s bed. When Larissa’s jaw began working properly again, she said, “I think we’ve already discussed how unreliable your visions can be Wednesday.” After a pause, “Besides that was a long time ago. We were teenagers.”

“But you weren’t teenagers when your breath hitched, your pupils dilated, and your pulse increased when you greeted her the day I was enrolled. All signs indicating that your feelings remain very much intact.” Larissa stared at Wednesday dumbfounded by the intensity of her scrutiny. She knew her to be intelligent and attentive but she’d failed to appreciate exactly how observant she could be. She flushed at the thought of how much she’d unknowingly given away.

She then pictured Wednesday seeing Larissa and Morticia in bed together. She was sure that her cheeks, ears, and neck had to be glowing in the darkness. “Wednesday I’m sorry if you’re unable to manage your feelings as much as you’d like but I want to be clear that I expect this relationship to be one of educator and student. I don’t want you to embarrass me in front of faculty if they see music you’ve titled after me or gifts you’ve bought and carelessly left for anyone to find.”

Larissa left quickly, fleeing into the corridor, and all the way back to her office. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She was shocked at how harsh she’d spoken to Wednesday, but her telling Larissa that she knew of her feelings for Morticia had ripped open an old wound. Larissa had convinced herself that it had been so long ago that no one was aware of what had happened anymore, but now she knew Wednesday had seen part of it and pieced together even more. Larissa was deeply unsettled.

She started to avoid Wednesday. She even went as far as having other staff convey messages to her or reprimand her when someone complained. She felt restless. She’d sit and stew about it. She’d resolve to try and speak to Wednesday, but then change her mind. Eventually she decided she had to do something, and she figured if her advice was good enough to try and give to Wednesday, it was good enough for her to take herself.

With the help of the young lady at the bookstore in town Larissa finally managed to set up a profile on a dating app. She agreed to a date on Friday. They met for dinner. He was a perfectly nice, perfectly fine, perfectly boring accountant from in town.

She tried to let him steer the conversation. She really did. It’s just he didn’t seem to have a lot to offer. It wasn’t long before she fell in to her usual topic, work. It was all over from there. That’s all they discussed; well she discussed, he listened. She realized afterward that she really should have pulled back on work talk. It had to bore anyone not associated with the academy. That’s why she was surprised to receive a text a few days later asking for a second date.

She sighed and thought it sounded like sort of a waste of time. She had plenty of paperwork other tasks to do but she’d promised herself that this time would be different. She agreed to meet. They went for a movie and he chose a college based comedy with juvenile humor that he guffawed at throughout. She felt herself repeatedly rolling her eyes.

Afterward they went to the Weathervane for coffee, hot chocolate, and pastries. They walked back to her car from there and he surprised her by leaning in for a kiss. Just as she started to return it she opened her eyes briefly and caught sight of Wednesday exiting a shop across the street.

For the briefest moment she saw a look of pain on her face that she recognized immediately. It was the same look she saw in the mirror of her dorm mom’s bathroom where she’d gone to gather herself after finding Morticia and Gomez together in their shared room.

The look was covered quickly by Wednesday’s usual blank expression as she turned and walked away. But it had lasted long enough to take the wind from body like a punch to the gut. She pulled away from her date who was confused. She apologized hastily by telling him she spotted one of her problem students whose town privileges were currently revoked. She left him staring after her as she went to try and track Wednesday down.

She was unsuccessful and returned to school still bothered by the look she’d seen on her face. They occupied the same school together but Larissa could not for the life of her track Wednesday down over the next few days. She’d see her in her classes through the window but if she tried to catch her in the hallway afterward it was like she’d melted into the crowd completely. The gifts and the dinners stopped. Larissa was surprised by how hurt she was by it. She declined the accountant’s third date request.

#larissa weems #principal weems #my fic #wendesday addams

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 11/19/2022

I didn't forget to do this, I was actively putting it off until I finished the chapter I wanted to finish and I am please to announce that I have finished it. Good job me.

As I said last week, I think I have 6 chapters left of the Tattoo Artist AU. I had one of them done last week, and now I have four of them done. I lost track of how many words I wrote this week, but it was somewhere ~5k, which is the best week I have had in ages. Last week I was considering combining Ch 21 and 22, but having finished Ch 21, I think it actually is long enough to stand on its own, and I actually like the space it creates right before setting up the finale. Anyway, I have two chapters left, which are 17 (the next one) and 22 (the last one, which I have at least started). I would like to say that I am going to do Ch 17 next, but I am probably going to do 22, mostly because it involves some tattooing detail and I want to do that while it's still fresh in my head because--

I got a tattoo this week!!! It's actually a funny story, which I will tell you all later, but the tl;dr is that I was supposed to get it in March, but there was a cancellation and I got to get it this week instead. I now have the cutest lil bluebird friend on my shoulder and I love him so much. It's on the opposite side from my camellia, but I really love the way they look together. I had a great time at the tattoo shop, it is def my favorite tattoo shop, and it was very well-timed for writing inspiration. This is the first time I have had Saniderm (it's an oxygen-permeable bandage), which simplifies the first stage of aftercare but also it itches and I am dying to rip this thing off. Tomorrow. It can take it off tomorrow.

I had some drawing I planned to do this week, but I did not do it. In part, I blame it on the fact that I am in manic "I gotta finish this fanfic!!" mode, but also I spent far too much time on Wednesday trying to redraw a Twitter meme. I got stressed out that I was wasting far too much time on what was essentially a shitpost, and posted it at the sketch stage, which I almost never do, but then it got a bunch of likes, so maybe I'll finish it after all. We'll see if I forget in the rush of Thanksgiving baking and trying to get my fanfic done.

Anyway, here's a drawing of A Very Genderfluid Renruki Wedding. You're welcome.

#writing update #art update

[weregreatatcrime]

AYO CAN I GET UHHHH number 9, 22, 24, 29, 30 and can i get some fries with that?

Ask meme here!

9: How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?

Very hard to say just because when I'm hyperfocused on art I might spend two hours a day or so and fill up like ten pages a day, but then go like two weeks without touching my sketchbook lol. Currently not in a drawing mood so iiiiii haven't actually touched it in a sec. Last thing I drew were maps for dnd

22: Are you confident that you’re improving steadily?

Absolutely. To a degree. I'm positive that I've always been improving in my art, except for my health crisis in 2021(? Ish) when I spent two years without picking up the pencil. Both for mental health reasons and because I literally couldn't hold one lmfao.

Getting back into art after that was hard. Having to train myself to hold a pencil was rough and my skill definitely suffered. I don't think I've gotten back up to where I was in skill before that time. Sometimes it's really, really frustrating. But also I've found that I've gone a bit of a different style since then as well, which I think is really cool and interesting. Some things I'm picking back up faster than others. Fuck, sometimes I SHADE my art now. I never used to do that lmao

24: Do you feel jealous when you see other people’s art, or inspired? (Be honest!)

Nope! My personal journey with art has taught me a lot about the technical skills that go into art. My personal problems being unable to draw for so long taught me how to sit back and stop thinking about what I can't do, but to admire what others Can. I don't get jealous of other people's art- I'm just in awe of it. It's amazing what different people can create with different skill and ability sets and I think there's something real fucking magical about that. Sometimes I use other people's art as inspiration, seeing little techniques I wanna try out, but overall... idk. Leaving art for the reasons I did gave me a much bigger appreciation for everything about it and I just can't find it in myself to compare art because everything is unique and amazing

29: For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc)

I use a really cool red toned oil pencil from Faber Castel for my under sketches! Then I follow it up with just normal pencil lines. If I'm feeling spicy, I'll lightly shade or add deeper values with the red. I'm a simple lad. My art is almost entirely sketches and anatomy work because that's what I love to do

30: What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

*points up to 24* All of that. My personal experiences have given me a pretty solid love of all artwork and it all inspires me.

Most of all? Collaborative work of any sort. Fandoms are considered collaborative work. Drawing things for my own writing. Drawing things for a friend's writing. Drawing OCs interacting. Shipping friends' OCs, with each other or Canon ships! Making stupid funny shitposts that haunt the collective mindscape for years to come. (I don't think the Trollhunters Fandom will ever forgive me for Thiccmar) Writing something that inspires someone to draw. Drawing something that inspires someone to write. Art trades. Are collabs. Countless role-playing. My friends who commission me to draw or write them the craziest shit that I have an absolute ball with. Just stuff that makes other people see it and go "I can play with these toys too!"

Collaborative work fuels my fucking soul and I love love love getting to do things with other people, when I have the capability of doing so

#my stuff #ask meme #ask #bloopsalot #this one got serious but eyyyyy #my person journey with art gets real fuckin dark for a solid two years #where i wss too terrified to pick up a pencil bevause of how fucking awful it is #to pick something up and try to hold it and completely fail #it was fucking awful and terrible and it hurt so i was too scared to even try #i spend months just working on my hands with writing worksheets and playing video games #before i would touch my sketchbook #because fuck man that shit terrified me #so my art journey is kinda dark but i came out the other motherfucking side bayby #tw depressing stuff #tw chronic illness

[hms-chill]

To Know More of You

Five times Henry threatened to divorce Alex, and one time he did the opposite

(no angst just alex being a shit)

Chapter 1/2

Alex expected to fall in love with a lot of things when he and Henry moved in together. He expected to fall even more in love with watching Henry get ready in the morning, or with the way he looks in Alex’s clothes. Alex expected to fall in love with Henry’s excitement about learning new things, or the face he makes when he’s playing a board game. But what Alex didn’t expect to fall in love with is the way Henry reacts to certain phrases. They’re nearly all things he’s picked up from Nora, but he’s found a special joy in hearing Henry react, watching him be incredulous as he tries to piece together what exactly things mean. And, as much as Henry May hate it, it’s something Alex absolutely loves.

In his defense, it starts on accident. It’s been a long day, and he’s just leaving the library when Henry calls to confirm their dinner plans. Alex is half distracted getting into the car as he says, “Yeah, so if you wouldn’t mind preheating the oven and putting the potato toddlers in, I’ll finish things up when I get there.”

He’s not entirely focused on his phone conversation, but he’s pretty sure he hears Henry mutter something that ends in “fuck”. He’s not sure; it’s been a long day of studying and his brain is fried. Still, this might be an opportunity to mess with Henry, and that never gets old.

“I’m sorry, the what?” Henry asks, and Alex grins.

“The potato toddlers. I think they need it at 425; the packet’s in the freezer and it should say on the back.”

“Alex, do you mean the... tater tots?”

“Yeah; the potato toddlers. I thought you studied English in college; shouldn’t you know this?”

“What time did you say you’ll be home?”

“About half an hour, why?”

“Shaan should have the divorce papers drawn up by then. I’ll let you have custody of the, um, toddlers.”

“Well, if you divorce me, you can make your own dinner tonight. I’m going to be enjoying some nice potato toddlers in a nice breakfast-for-dinner burrito, and if you divorce me I’m taking it all. I’m a lawyer; I’ll skew the papers my way.”

“Well you’ll have to get here first,” Henry says, and under that joking tone is an affection so genuine that Alex has to remind himself to breathe. It’s only been a day, but he missed Henry, too. He wonders vaguely how they’ll cope when they have to be apart longer, then decides not to think about that for now.

“As soon as I can, baby. I’m coming.”

—

He doesn’t exactly plan on doing it again. But it’s late when Henry comes into his office, and Alex coughs at just the wrong time. He’s been fighting a cold all week, and he’s trying to hide it, but just as he recovers from his coughing fit, he feels arms slide around his shoulders. Henry leans in to kiss his cheek, and Alex smiles in spite of himself.

“Hi, love. You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine; just a sore throat.”

“I’ll make you some tea and honey,” Henry says, “But I think... of you can, I’d like to bring it to you in bed. It’s getting late.”

Alex agrees. He can’t say ‘no’ to Henry, and it is late. So he gets ready, and he’s in bed when Henry comes into their room, a mug in his hand. He smiles, and the whole thing is so fucking domestic that if he doesn’t ruin it, Alex thinks he might explode.

“Does it have bee sauce?”

“Does it have... yes, it has honey in it to help your throat. I’m going to divorce you.”

“Not now. Too tired,” Alex says, and now that he’s finally back in bed, he feels it. He hadn’t realized how heavy his body feels suddenly, and the places where he’s sore from sitting all day are already starting to stretch out. Henry runs a hand through his hair, and Alex leans toward it, closing his eyes as he does and just letting Henry’s closeness wash over him.

“Drink your tea, then get some rest, love. The world will still need saving when you wake up.”

Alex grabs Henry’s wrist, and when he opens his eyes, Henry is smiling just a bit.

“If I don’t let go you can’t get divorce papers,” Alex says, and Henry laughs.

“You’re ridiculous, and I adore you.”

“Stay? It’s too big here for just me.” David whines, and Alex smiles in spite of himself. “Too big for just me and David.”

“Of course, Love. Let me get changed.”

Alex tries to stay awake, he does. But he’s more tired than he’d realized, and as he drinks the tea, his eyes close automatically. He’s nearly asleep When he feels the bed dip, and he barely has time to roll over and cuddle Henry close before he’s out for the night.

—

From there, the divorce threats become, if not normal, at least regular. They’re never taken seriously, but before long, Alex is out of phrases to earn them. He starts to miss the way Henry will roll his eyes, or the fond exasperation in his tone. He has a weekend trip to Denver to help Raf‘s campaign coming up, though, and he can’t wait to find something out there.

He was right to hope. Raf is just as much of a shit as he is, and they’d spent a night lying on the floor of his office laughing together, brainstorming awful ways for Alex to talk to his boyfriend. It felt eerily similar to their first summer together, and Alex couldn’t be happier on all counts. Plus, now, he has a whole fleet of cursed phrases ready to go.

He gets home late to find Henry asleep on the couch, and there’s not much time to talk while they move from the living room to their bed. But the next morning when Henry comes into the kitchen to wrap him in a hug, he sees his opportunity. He’s adding the milk to his coffee, and after kissing Henry’s cheek as a good morning, he unleashes a double whammy.

“Aw, hell yeah, cow juice. I’ve had enough nut juice to ruin the dairy industry twice over.”

“As soon as I’m awake, I’m divorcing you.”

Alex’s reply is cut off by a yawn, followed almost immediately by a kiss that’s all morning breath. He complains, but still leans up for another as Henry smiles.

“That’s not the kiss of a soon-to-be divorcee,” Alex says, and Henry just laughs, a laugh that fills Alex up with more warmth than his coffee ever could.

"I hate you," Henry mumbles, resting his head on top of Alex's for a moment. "But I'm glad you're home."

"Me too."

-

They're eating breakfast together when David comes down the stairs. He was mostly asleep when Alex got home last night, so when he sees him leaning against the counter drinking coffee, he makes a beeline. His tongue is out as he hops up on Alex's leg to cover his hands with slobber, and when Alex kneels down with a laugh, David moves to licking his face.

"Hey, David. How's my favorite furry offspring, hmm? How are you?"

"You're not getting custody if you call him that. I'll divorce you and take him back to London," Henry says, not even looking at them as he scrapes the last of the yogurt out of a container.

"He's just my little furry boy, yes he is," Alex says, and he's so focused on David that he doesn't notice Henry throwing his empty carton until it hits him on the forehead. He looks up to see Henry just turning to the sink, not quite quickly enough to hide his smile. "He can't eat that! He's going to get sick. Are you trying to hurt our gorgeous furry son? Henry, you’re his father! You can’t poison your son!"

"Oh, shut up," Henry says, though there's no weight to it. He undermines it even further by coming over to kneel on the ground with them, kissing Alex and rubbing David's ears until he shakes. When they sit, David manages to climb into both their laps at once, and any plans for divorce are put on hold immediately.

-

Nora's there the next time it happens, and that only eggs Alex on. They're gathered in the boys' living room for a game night, and when Henry sits down beside Alex, both his knees pop. He grunts a bit, but Alex just grins.

"Aww, babe, hear that? Your skeleton's getting ready to hatch," he says, dropping a kiss onto Henry's knee before looking up at him with a smile. Nora's laughing, but Henry just looks a bit worried.

"Alex, love, do you really want to have to draw up divorce papers in front of Nora? Because I’ll divorce you, but I don’t want you to be embarrassed in front of your ex." Nora’s cackling by now, and Henry's grinning in spite of himself. Alex kisses his nose, and Henry just shakes his head, smiling. "We really need to invest more in keeping you two apart; I’m not sure I like whatever this is becoming.”

“Chaos is indivisible,” Nora says, and Alex grins, bumping his fist against hers across the coffee table. Henry just rolls his eyes at them both, and Nora laughs as he finally cracks a smile at them both, trying and failing to hide it behind the rule book on the table.

On AO3

Shoutout to @saltfics for workshopping cursed phrases with me and also to @bea-fox-mountchristen-windsor for saying she wanted this shitpost in a fic

Also, I'm sorry. (bonus also, the title is from one of Alex's emails, p.243)

#my fic: rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue fic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Private - Nov 18

Question: why the heck are Sir Pentious and Alastor posting a weird drawing of a pink cube?

Short answer: two dorky old men griping about Kids These Days resulting in an experimental attempt to replicate modern shitposting habits.

Long answer:

11/15/2020

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 GOOD NIGHT, ALASTOR.

11/18/2020

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I TOLD YOU GOOD NIGHT AND YOU NEVER ANSWERED ME!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 My deepest apologies, my friend, I didn't see it! Let me make up for it, let's see... good night, good morning, good night, good morning, good night, and another good morning! I think we're caught up now.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HA! GOOD MORNING

dontasktheradiodemon

OwwO

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WHY ARE YOU OWWO-ING ME

🐍 ㅁ]:3~

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'd already said good morning, I couldn't say it a second time!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I RETURNED THE GREETING, AS I AM A HELLISH GENTLEMAN! WHY WOULD YOU NEED TO SAY IT AGAIN

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I wouldn't! Which is why I OwwO-ed instead.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TRY TO CREATE AN EMOTICON OF YOUR OWN FACE. ALTHOUGH, PERHAPS IF IT LOOKS TOO ACCURATE, IT WILL DESTROY THE EQUIPMENT!!!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 ㅋ    ㅋ

🐍 ㅇl w l

🐍 THERE

🐍 YOUR ANTLERS, YOUR MONOCLE, YOUR EYES AND YOUR MOUTH

🐍 ㅋ    ㅋ

🐍 ㅇl w l 🍖

🐍 NOW YOU ARE EATING

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Ha! Wouldn't that be something, a few characters that break machines. But I'm just fine with the one I made—it has my smile with a surplus of teeth, that's the most important part!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 MINE HAS A MONOCLE, SO IT IS MORE ACCURATE

🐍 ㅋ                  ㅋ

🐍 ㅇl wwwwww l

🐍 THERE

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Ha!

dontasktheradiodemon

ψ          ψ o̗̟̘̝̯̝OwwwO

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 NYA HA HA!

🐍 THERE, YOUR TUNING FORKS

🐍 NOT ENOUGH TEETH THOUGH

🐍 ㅁ]:3=~

dontasktheradiodemon

ψ                ψ o̗̟̘̝̯̝OwwwwwwwO

🎶 How's that? Just about enough this time?

🎶 My antlers don't seem to want to line up properly when I send them!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THEY LOOK FINE TO ME?

🐍 MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET A BETTER EMOJI

🐍 📻

🐍 🦌

🐍 🍖

🐍 👄???

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 OH IT IS A MOBILE THING

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶📻🦌🍖👄 Arrange all five in a pentagram to summon the Radio Demon! How's That for modernizing?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THEY ARE FINE ON MOBILE ONLY! ON THE SMART PHONES

🐍 CAN YOU BE SUMMONED VIA EMOJI? HMMM

🐍 LET'S TEST IT NOW!!!

dontasktheradiodemon

((There is now a Radio Demon in Sir Pentious's room. Poof.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( HE CACKLES

(( and sends a text anyway,

🐍 DIGITAL MEAT WORKSS JUST AS WELL!

dontasktheradiodemon

((He just sorta reads it over Sir Pentious's shoulder.))

🎶 Doesn't taste half as good, though!

((And Sir Pentious gets to witness in person that Alastor just, talks out loud, no evidence of a phone, and a moment later a message with the same text in it arrives.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( O     O..............

(( Pentious LOOKS at him like. What the Fuck! I wanna do that!!!

(( "ARE YOU A SPEECH TO TEXT MACHINE"

dontasktheradiodemon

(("Only a speech machine!" He Grins. Look at him, so mysterious. He's got a secret and he's smug about it.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "YOU MUST HAVE A RECEIVER HIDDEN IN YOUR HAIR! OR IS IT JUST YOUR ANTLERS..."

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 You mean my antennae?

((He says and sends it at the same time. And he's grinning Even Wider, he's obviously still hiding something.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( HE HUFFS

🐍 DON'T YOU W MOUTH AT ME IN REAL TIME

(( Pentious also texts out loud sometimes, but this time, he is just doing that Cobra Breathing Thing as he looks more like an accordion than a Snake

🐍 YOUR TUNING FORKS

dontasktheradiodemon

((He is OwwOing))

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 STOP IT

dontasktheradiodemon

((He goes OwwwwO. And then he takes mercy, holds a finger over his mouth and winks—shh, we're being secretive—and pulls a phone out of his pocket. It's already on and set to microphone, so it's just. Already listening.))

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 But pay no mind to the man behind the curtain!

((And the text appears as he speaks. It somehow apparently presses "send" itself a moment later.))

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍

(( Sir Pentious whips an eggboi at Alastor

dontasktheradiodemon

((Well now there's a mess on him! òwó))

dontasktheradiodemon

((With GREAT dignity he magically peels the mess off his clothes.))

🎶 I'm going to make an omelet and I'm not going to share.

hiss-and-vinegar

(( HE'S LAUGHING, can't type, laughing too hard.... Doubled over..... Goodbye

dontasktheradiodemon

((He patiently endures it. And tries to pretend the laughter doesn't wipe out his irritation.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( weakly typing,

🐍 YOU DIDN'T DODGE IT LIKE I THOUGHT YOU WOULD

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Most people who lob projectiles at me are a lot farther away and like me a lot less! I had my guard down.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 APOLOGIESDEERCHUM

(( oh god everything hurts from laughing so hard, he's wheezing

dontasktheradiodemon

((He pats Sir Pentious's back. There there.))

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Keep this between us, would you? I've got an image to keep up, and it doesn't involve cellular phones! That, and I don't want to attract telemarketers.

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "WHICH PART................" he is hastily deleting a post from his blog

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 The part where I have a phone.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 There's a good portion of Hell that thinks I'm completely incapable of handling new technology! Me, a man who was on the radio before most people had radios. Insulting, but sooner or later I think it'll be useful to me for the general public to think I'm far more bumbling about all this than I really am.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 OH I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN

🐍 APPARENTLY IT WAS NEWS TO MOST PEOPLE THAT I, GENIUS INVENTOR SIR PENTIOUS, YEARS BEYOND MY PEERS WHEN IT CAME TO TECHNOLOGICAL KNOW-HOW, KNEW HOW TO USE CURRENT TECHNOLOGY!!!

🐍 WHAT, LIKE IT IS HARD????

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Really? You, of all people? Ha!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I WAS MASTERING TECHNOLOGY BEFORE THESE CRETINS WERE EVEN AN IDEA

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Why is it that people assume that the kind of person who was on the cutting edge in his own time is somehow the kind of person least likely to keep up with later cutting edges? As if a man who spent the 1880s farming instead of building airships is somehow going to be better at using a computer just because the public doesn't automatically associate him with "airships"!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 LIKELY BECAUSE, MY DEER CHUM, WE ARE OLD.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THESE CHILDREN ARE NOT DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND, THEIR SENSE OF HUMOR SEEMS TO BE COMPLETELY UNHINGED! I COULD POST A PICTURE OF A CUBE, AND WRITE IN BEAUTIFUL HANDWRITING "CUBE", ONLY FOR IT TO EITHER BE A SMASH HIT, OR NOT AT ALL.

🐍 TRYING TO STAY AFLOAT OF THESE "TRENDS" IS EXHAUSTING, BUT, IT ISN'T AS THOUGH I HAVE NO FREE TIME

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I believe it's not just that we're old, Sir Pent, it's that we're associated with old innovations! Most people, I've noticed, can't advance onward to technology that post dates what they grew up with. But they make the mistake of thinking that the innovators are the most calcified instead of the least!

🎶 And a cube-labeled cube is hilarious. It should be a smash hit.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 HA! YOU THIN K SO? THEN I'LL CREATE IT. WE WILL SEE WHAT IT LANDS!

(( he is pulling out his laptop and sitting on himself so that he can use it. It's like a jet taking off when it starts up

dontasktheradiodemon

((He's been sorta leaning around Sir Pentious to try to read as he types so he doesn't have to pull out his Secret Phone, so it's nice to be able to just bend over to look at the laptop screen over Sir Pentious's shoulder.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( it turns on with the turn of a key, and he's holding a pen in his mouth--it's not REALLY pen, just looks like one. There's a cobra head at the end of it with sharp teeth bared--looks like they fit in two holes at the corner of the keyboard itself. There's a holder for the pen, but Pentious appears to like having it in his mouth instead. Enrichment. He's grinning as he starts making something incredibly dumb

dontasktheradiodemon

((Just two old dorks grinning together while they make a shitpost))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( It's done. "EUREKA!" he shouts,

dontasktheradiodemon

((What the fuck does that say. What the FUCK does that say. He's genuinely shaking from trying not to laugh as he processes Le Kjub))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( Sir Pentious looks SO excited, raising a declamatory finger to explain it. "LE, AS IN THE FRENCH MASCULINE FORM OF 'THE', CUBE. THAT IS THE PHONETIC ALPHABETICAL SPELLING OF CUBE! PRONUNCIATION AND ALL OF THAT. AND!!!" He gestures to the screen, "IF YOU WILL LOOK HERE, DEER CHAP, THAT-- YOU SEE IT? THAT FAINT WORD? IT READS... CUBE!"

dontasktheradiodemon

((He SQUINTS. "... So it does!" This is KILLING HIM it's so deliberately terrible.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( Just idly polishing his talons on his suit coat, "AND NOW TO POST IT!"

hiss-and-vinegar

(( He STOPS, "OH, WAIT, ONE MORE BIT..."

dontasktheradiodemon

((Alastor braces himself.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "THEY SEEM TO LOVE THIS KIND OF EFFECT."

dontasktheradiodemon

(("... You made it blurrier? Are you trying to protect its identity??"))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "APPARENTLY, THIS IS TO MAKE IT HAVE A CERTAIN IT.... 'CRYPTID' LIKE QUALITY. ALL THE RAGE WITH THE LATEST GENERATION, ALASTOR."

dontasktheradiodemon

((He vaguely knows what a cryptid is by virtue of having been called one. "... Pfff—!" This is it, this is what kills him. He can't handle the thought of a hot pink cube being a cryptid. He's gotta sit on the floor and laugh.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( His head swivels around to watch Alastor laugh on the floor. His hood floops up, but he's grinning so wide!!!! He made the Radio Demon laugh!!!! But it was on his terms, and he's happy about that. Cobra Prrrrrr.

(( "WELL! SHALL I POST IT??? WHO KNOWSSSS WHAT WILL COME OF IT!!!"

dontasktheradiodemon

(("Yes! Put it up! René Magritte couldn't do better."

hiss-and-vinegar

(( Click click, type type. No caption, no anything just. Cube.

(( And POST!

dontasktheradiodemon

((PULLS OUT HIS PHONE to reblog it.))

dontasktheradiodemon

((He taps the screen with his pinky claw tip. Sophisticated.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( GASP. Support. He's beaming so much his entire head is smiling.

dontasktheradiodemon

((BEAMS BACK. Chums support chums' shitpost art.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( It's literally the worst shitpost, too much work went into this.... but they are happy. And he takes the pen from his mouth in order to sink the pen's fangs into those previously mentioned holes... and with that, the laptop shuts down.

dontasktheradiodemon

((Oh now that's a neat trick! "What did those fangs do, did you poison that poor machine?" He's Delighted.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "I DID! IT ISS DEAD NOW." Prr prr prr, "BUT ACTUALLY, THERE ARE SSWITCHESS LOCATED WITHIN THE MACHINE ITSELF THAT MUSST BE PRESSED BY THE FANGS, THEY ARE FITTED."

dontasktheradiodemon

(("How clever!" Admires it. "And far better looking than the trash currently on the market. Most modern machines look like they've been carved out of panels of public restroom stalls."

hiss-and-vinegar

(( Sir Pentious begins to laugh again, and he places the laptop onto the nearby vanity, "RIGHT! THESE 'SLEEK" DESIGNSS HAVE NO STYLE AT ALL! I WANT IT TO BE SOMETHING SOMEONE WOULD WANT FOR THEMSELVESS, NOT DISGUISED TO BE PART OF A BOOK SHELF."

dontasktheradiodemon

(("Well, stylish it certainly is!" He gets up! He's probably messed around enough in here for the time being, hasn't he?

hiss-and-vinegar

(( Sir Pentious is turns to fully face Alastor now, "WELL, IT IS ABOUT THAT TIME ISN'T IT. YOU ARE WELCOME FOR THE SSSSUMMONSSS, ALASSSSTOR."

dontasktheradiodemon

(("Thank you for the brief entertainment!" A bow. "And to you, Sir... Good morning!" Grin grin.))

hiss-and-vinegar

(( "GOOD MORNING, YOU DOUBLE-YEW FACED DEERMAN." He tips his hat, "NOW GET!"

#hissandvinegar #chat log #((and also Alastor’s deepest secret is revealed))

[theexecutionerssong]

How do you feel about all these spn jokes/shitposts from people who don’t watch the show or people who stopped years ago? I’m not gonna lie, i at times feel like a little sensitive bitch bc it just makes me a bit sad in a way? Cause to them it’s funny to post and reblog and tag with jokes when maybe they’ve seen a few episodes or a few seasons and then gave up. But to me it’s like well shit, trust me, i know the finale was a shitstorm and it sucked but it hurt like a bitch to see that finale especially because of how much the show/cas/dean meant to me. So my sensitive ass at times feels like I’m being mocked. Even though I’ve seen some jokes and theyre funny but in a way it’s different because it from people who watched the show the whole time and felt the same way i did when the finale aired. Idk it’s just weird, so i wanted to ask how you’re doing with everything.

I basically have a zero tolerance policy. I let it slide and just muted posts for 15x18 the first day because the euphoria was through the roof, but after that, seeing hurtful posts and memes from people who know nothing about the show, the characters, the cast, the writers, was just a big no.

I make a point to curate my dash on here with only things that interest me and that make me happy. I block people left and right when they reblog my posts and add something rude or hurtful. Make your own damn posts if you’re gonna shit on something I love, i don’t want to see it. Creators can see your tags, we go there to find joy, not to read your negativity. If I blog about something it’s because I love it, i don’t want to see anyone shitting on it or mocking it. I can’t not take it personally. You insult something i love then you insult me.

I know everyone I follow, I know why I followed them and what they blog about. If they suddenly started posting about Supernatural just to get clout or to ride the high and it’s bullshit, then I unfollow. I don’t even care if we were mutuals. Actually, it’s even worse coming from mutuals, because you would think that they at least would not find so much glee in something that they know caused me to feel so worthless after the finale - unless they have somehow not seen one single post on my blog since then but then... what are they still following me for. But apparently that decency is too much to ask. I know not everyone keeps up with their mutuals so I may be too sensitive but when it comes down to it, I draw the line.

They don’t know shit. They don’t know about the years we have spent calling out things that were problematic, like, we know okay, we know and the show still means everything to us. They don’t know who stood up for us in the writers room. They know nothing of the hope, the comfort, the constant in our lives the show gave us over the years when we had nothing else. They don’t know the cast at all because they haven’t been following them for a decade and a half. I don’t blame them but you know what I do when I see something blow up in a fandom I don’t know anything about, or that I used to follow from afar but haven’t kept up with in years? I shut up. I don’t get involved and I don’t laugh at it, especially if it’s evident people are hurting over it.

From what I saw the first couple of days after the 15x18 and since the finale, some people seem to think that it’s trendy to shit on anything relating to Supernatural. It’s top tier cringe culture come back. But they weren’t there. They didn’t try to understand. They have no ground to stand on and spread things that are just untrue (the Jensen the homophobe narrative is driving me up the walls) or misleading, or just to take the very thing that has hurt us so much and turn it into a joke and laugh in our faces. So what if Supernatural has been around forever and you somehow feel entitled to comment on it even if you haven’t watched / stopped years ago? It’s not welcomed where we can see it. It’s rude, it’s hurtful, it’s 98% of the time completely wrong. Leave us alone, we’ve been through enough.

TLDR: I don’t think you’re being too sensitive, those people are assholes and you should not have to put up with it if you don’t want to.

#gaelle parle

[nitewrighter]

Gency Week Day 7: “Forest”

GOOOODDD Remember how I said this fic was passing like a kidney stone? I just needed to get this fic out of my system but I couldn’t write anything other than shitposts and chatfics for DAYS. So sorry for any sloppiness. The Russian Taiga, Lone Wolf Hanzo, Pregnancy-detecting wolves, and abusive childhoods making unreliable narrators of us all.

----

The four of them had been driving for several hours. The sky was gray and the trees whipped by the van’s windows in a seemingly endless whirl of dark-blue green and gray. It was a cool summer in the Taiga, the air dense with oxygen and the moisture of the pines, drenching the interior of the lungs with a clean cold freshness with every breath.

“So these guys aren’t part of the Hanzo spy network?” said McCree, rolling his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Must you call it a spy network?” said Hanzo.

“It is sort of a spy network,” Mercy piped up from the backseat.

“Not everyone I came into contact with in my travels is some... master of espionage,” said Hanzo, “I just... promised I would return here someday and well, so long as we’re still in this area of Russia--”

“For the other spies in the spy network,” McCree cut in.

“...as long as we’re still in Russia, I should make good on that promise,” said Hanzo.

“And?” said Genji, expectantly. Mercy and McCree exchanged glances. Genji at this point had made it a frequent habit to pull Hanzo off to the side and converse-slash-bicker with him in Japanese, but it seemed to be getting Hanzo to open up more to them.

“And... I thought... it might be enjoyable,” said Hanzo.

“And it’s going to be great--” Genji half-overlapped with Hanzo as he spoke.

 Hanzo lifted his chin sightly at the sight of one sign in Russian, “The next turn,” he said, and McCree nodded. The next turn was onto an unpaved road, and the whole van rumbled with what was clearly an overly weathered mag-lev cable underneath the dirt. The road twisted deep into the pines, and Genji’s visor brightened.

“You know what this reminds me of?” said Genji as the van rumbled.

“Mm?” Hanzo looked over his shoulder at him.

“The back roads Father took into Shirakami Sanchi back when he was training us--do you remember?” said Genji.

Hanzo snorted a little, “Don’t worry, this won’t be that bad,” said Hanzo.

“...‘That bad?’” Genji tilted his head but Hanzo perked up as they pulled up to a large sign arching over the road.

“We’re here,” the slight smile in Hanzo’s voice was unmistakeable as McCree parked the van. The four of them stepped out and stretched, Mercy pulling on a jacket in the chilly forest air. She gave a glance up to the sign.

“Tsarapatsosna Gray Wolf Reserve,” Mercy read the arching sign, she looked back at Hanzo, “Wolf reserve?” but Hanzo was already walking under the sign towards a log-cabin styled office with several fenced areas branching off of it. Mercy looked to McCree and McCree just shrugged.

 A bell rang on the door of the office as Hanzo stepped into it. There was a late 20-something woman with short-cropped periwinkle dyed hair and oversized noise-cancelling headphones scrolling through a tablet at the desk. McCree examined the office--it was about what you would expect from a remote conservation outpost--outdated technology, disheveled filing, a musky smell of taxidermy emanating from a stuffed mink looking down at them from atop a filing cabinet. The girl with the massive headphones didn’t even look up until Hanzo rang the bell on the desk. She pushed her headphones up off of one ear but then her eyes brightened at the sight of a familiar face.

“Hanzo?” one corner of her mouth quirked up in a grin, “Is that you?”

Hanzo gave a smiling nod and a high pitched, “Ha!” escaped her as she pushed up from her desk and brought her headphones down around her neck like a torc. “It’s been too long! Ilya’s going to go crazy!”

“I like the new color, Kira,” said Hanzo, motioning to his hair.

“And I love this!” said Kira, stepping around the desk and pointing at Hanzo’s undercut, “So ‘cool guy,’ yeah?” Her Russian accent was just thick enough for her to hit her consonants in an appealingly hard way.

Hanzo chuckled. “I learned from the best,” said Hanzo.

Kira scoff-laughed and gave him a playful punch in the arm. Her glance trailed over to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Your friends?” 

“This is my brother, Genji, and my friends, Angela, and Jesse,” said Hanzo, gesturing at them.

“Howdy,” McCree gave an awkward wave. 

“Brother?” Kira repeated and looked over at Genji, “You had a brother this whole time!?”

“He is hard to keep in contact with!” quipped Genji.

Kira snorted. “Da, at least my idiot brother sticks around, but Ilya’s been mooning over Hanzo ever since he left, I think he’s the one starting half the howls around here.”

“Leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere you go, huh Hanzo?” said McCree

“We never---” Hanzo started but the door opened and a man looking a bit older than Kira with a nose bridge piercing and his hair piled in a chestnut bun briskly stepped in.

“Kira, чей фургон снаружи? У нас не было--” the man caught himself off as he made eye contact with Hanzo. “HANZO!” he lunged forward and caught Hanzo in a big bear hug which Hanzo was, shockingly, receptive to.

“It’s good to see you too, Ilya,” said Hanzo, patting him on the back.

“You barely write anymore! You spend 2 months here and then disappear! We worry so much and all I have is postcards!” said Ilya, bracing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Postcards?” McCree mumbled under his breath.

Ilya gasped, “Your hair!”

“That’s what I said!” said Kira.

“Is a good look!” said Ilya.

“I hope my friends and I aren’t causing too much of a disturbance dropping in unannounced like this--” Hanzo started.

“Eh, no, it’s slow today,” said Ilya. He looked over at McCree, Genji and Mercy, “Your friends?”

“Jesse, Genji, and Angela,” said Kira, gesturing at each of them to fill him in, “Genji’s his brother.”

“You have a brother!” Ilya clapped his hands together but his sights trailed over to Genji’s scarred face. Hanzo’s stomach tightened for a minute, but Ilya quickly switched gears back to his jovial self rather than ask about the origins of the scars. He cleared his throat. “Ilya Novikov. You’ve already met my charming sister, Kira.” 

Kira gave a wave from where she was leaning against the desk.

 “You and your friends want to see the boys? They missed you.” said Ilya.

“We would love to,” said Hanzo.

“Waivers,” said Kira, holding up several papers completely in Russian.

“Ah, yes, waivers,” said Ilya catching himself.

After about three minutes of winging some Russian-to-English translations and Ilya feverishly promising that the wolves would not, in fact, “eat their faces,” the four of them had their waivers signed.

Ilya clapped his hands together, “Good! Good! Come! They will be so excited!”

He rushed out the door and Hanzo gave a glance back to McCree, Genji, and Mercy. “Sorry, I should have let you answer as well.”

“No, this is great!” said Genji, “I’d love to meet the wolves you worked with!”

“I’d like to,” said Mercy, “But I’m still... processing all this.”

“Yeah--Okay, okay, okay--back up,” said McCree, taking his hat off as they walked out the door after Hanzo, “You... you spent 2 months in a Russian wolf reserve!?”

“Much of their permanent residents are actually wolfdogs,” said Hanzo, walking briskly to keep up with Ilya.

“A Russian wolf reserve,” McCree repeated, walking after him.

“...remote location, heated cabins, just enough plumbing to get by, work to keep me occupied,” Hanzo looked over at McCree and Mercy, who were looking at him completely dumbfounded, “You didn’t think I was spending the whole time sleeping under bridges and quietly disposing of the bodies of my would-be assassins?!”

“Well, this is a side of you I’m glad to see,” said Mercy, folding her arms with a smile.

“Who doesn’t like a dog person?” said McCree with a grin as they caught up with Ilya, who was standing outside a chain-link fence that spanned a large area dotted with pines, but where the duff of pine needles had clearly been packed down more with both human and wolf footsteps.

“Lots of wolfdogs with the Crisis,” Ilya explained as they walked along the fence of the enclosure, “Omnics displace people, pets run away, nature reclaims abandoned towns, dogs fuck with the wolves, make wolfdogs. This enclosure is all the older ones. More used to people. Good for kids. Good for bringing funding.”

“Ah, we’re getting the fluffy tourist treatment,” said McCree.

“Is still big animals!” said Ilya. He suddenly perked up and pivoted back at them, walking backwards. He seemed to give a quick glance over at everyone’s outfit. “Good clothing. Yes. No danglies--not too tight--Jesse, your name was?”

“Yes?” said McCree.

“No hats,” said Ilya, and McCree took off his hat and set it on a supply locker near the enclosure, “The wolves. They like to steal things. And then tear them apart. Then bury them,” Ilya suddenly perked up. “Ah! Miss Angela! Important question: You are pregnant?” said Ilya, looking at Mercy.

“Excuse me?!” said Mercy reddening.

“My apologies, my English is ehhh....” Ilya made a ‘so-so’ motion with his hand, “What I’m saying is--The wolves, they know when you are pregnant. They act weird. They bring you food. They always know.”

Mercy’s mouth drew to a thin, crooked line with her bemusement, “No, I’m not pregnant,” she said with a slight chuckle.

“No hats and pregnancy detection. Got it,” said McCree, putting his hands on his hips.

A large brown wolfdog with three legs hop-walked in from the trees. It spotted Hanzo and suddenly bound towards the chain-link fence, rising up on its back legs and rattling the fence as it put one paw on it.

“Shoko!” said Hanzo, putting his hand to the chain-link and letting the wolf-dog sniff it, “She’s still here?”

“Of course!” said Ilya, “This is her home!”

The wolfdog whined and rattled the chain-link, drawing the attention of her pack, who all slowly padded in from the various tree and shrub covered areas they were sniffing about. 

“Hanzo, you should go in first, get them warmed up to people, yeah?” said Ilya.

“Of course,” said Hanzo, stepping in. The gate was constructed in sally-port fashion, with another gate inside a fenced off area so that Hanzo could have the gate shut behind him before entering the enclosure. As soon as he stepped through that second gate he was beset on all sides by massive barking, sniffing bodies, roiling around him and yipping and some even prancing and rearing on their hind legs playfully at him. Mercy and Genji and McCree watched as Hanzo’s expression melted into pure warmth and even sputtered bouts of laughter as the wolves and wolfdogs sniffed and whined and butted into him. Hanzo, apparently well practiced in maneuvering with the pack’s attention on him, managed to shift the mass of furry bodies away from the sally port and he chatted to them, slipping between English and Japanese and even some Russian he had presumably picked up in working in this place. McCree honestly could have just watched him all day but Ilya elbowed him and gestured into the enclosure with a thumb. Mercy looked over at Genji, a slight smile on his scar-notched lips. 

“We never got to have dogs, growing up,” said Genji, very quietly.

“Come on! Come on!” said Ilya, gesturing them in one at a time. 

McCree entered and instantly a section of the pack swarming Hanzo broke off to sniff him. McCree nearly lost his balance as a wolf with splotchy-patterned fur knocked into him from the side.

“Oh they like you!” Ilya shouted from outside the fence.

Because he smells like Hanzo, thought Genji, stepping in to the enclosure after McCree. The wolves ears pricked up with the screech of the metal gate swinging, and a dozen brown, black, and yellow eyes regarded Genji with some curiosity. Genji moved to hold out his prosthetic hand, caught himself, then extended his organic hand. One silver wolf gave his hand a wary sniff before pushing his muzzle against Genji’s palm. Once the four of them were thoroughly sniffed, the pack broke apart slightly, several wandering off to resume sniffing or scratching at pines indifferent to their human visitors, but a good portion of them hung around, eager for pets and roughhousing.

“They are a lot bigger than they seem in the documentaries, aren’t they?” said Mercy as a cream-colored wolf stuck its full muzzle into the monopocket of her hoodie while a black wolfdog sniffed at her heels. The wolves seemed to be warming up to Genji as well, in spite of his prosthetics, sniffing at his jawline where his skin ended and cybernetic neck began. They were like dogs and yet not like dogs, sometimes remembering an aloof pride midway-through being pet and briskly walking away, but then coming back when they realized that that very distance they created was being respected. I can see why Hanzo would like you, thought Genji, scratching a wolf that wanted to be scratched, but didn’t want Genji to make eye contact while he was doing it. He glanced up at Hanzo, half-wrestling with Shoko, and the words Hanzo had said earlier hung in Genji’s mind like a loose thread off a sweater.

This won’t be that bad.

This won’t be that bad.

This won’t be that bad.

Genji glanced over to Mercy and McCree, still well-occupied with the wolfdogs swarming them, and walked over to Hanzo.

“Hanzo?” said Genji, dropping to a squat next to Hanzo as he rubbed Shoko’s belly.

“Yes?” said Hanzo, scratching the three-legged wolfdog under her chin.

“Sorry, I’m just... trying to clear something up--What you said back in the van... you didn’t like Shirakami-Sanchi?” said Genji.

“You’re not supposed to like it. Survival isn’t a game,” said Hanzo, glancing up at Genji. Shoko rolled herself back onto her stomach and pushed up under Hanzo’s arm to try and get his attention.

“I thought we did pretty well,” said Genji.

“Well you got to go play at being the agile hunter charging after squirrels and I had to actually find fresh water and build a fire for us,” said Hanzo, digging his hands into the ruff of fur at Shoko’s neck.

“...I thought you were okay with that,” said Genji.

“Well in a sense, yes, it kept you out of my hair, but I was also worried you’d do something stupid and hurt yourself and Father wouldn’t be there to rush to your rescue, so it would just be me, and---” Hanzo caught himself and his hand paused, still half-sunken into wolf fur. He looked up at Genji. “I’m sorry,” said Hanzo.

“No, I--I get it,” said Genji, glancing off.

 He sighed and pulled his hand away, prompting Shoko to make a protesting growl-whine, “It’s wasn’t your fault. You were too young for it anyway. Father was mostly testing me.”

“...I thought it was the first time Father thought I could do something,” said Genji. I thought, I thought, I thought, the more Genji said the words the stupider he felt.

“He probably thought it would build character,” Hanzo conceded, “Of course it was just a fun adventure in the woods for his favorite.”

“But you didn’t like it,” said Genji.

Hanzo looked at Genji for a few seconds. “You, Genji. You were his favorite.”

A sputter of laughs escaped Genji but quickly faded as he read Hanzo’s face. “Oh you... you actually think that,” said Genji.

“Think that?! It was obvious!” said Hanzo, “Father always liked you better because you took after Mother more--that’s why he went easier on you.”

“Went easy on-- He just thought he couldn’t trust me with anything! He thought I was a failure! You were the perfect first-born!” said Genji.

“I wasn’t his son, I was his heir! He was only ever... molding me to be like him! He actually smiled with you! He called you ‘Sparrow!’”

“Sparrow was an insult,” said Genji, plainly.

Hanzo’s brow crinkled and his eyes pinched with confusion. “What? No it wasn’t.”

“‘Genji, you never apply yourself to anything. You’re always flitting between meaningless distractions. This way and that. Like a sparrow,’” Genji imitated Sojiro’s tone almost perfectly.

Hanzo glanced down, “No, no, that can’t be right,” he muttered, “Sparrows are lucky!”

“Sparrows are pests,” said Genji. 

“You were always laughing!”

“Well, yes,” said Genji, he rubbed the back of his neck, “I... got very good at laughing things off. I’m--I’m still good at it.”

Hanzo felt a shudder linger between his shoulder blades when he thought about how easily Genji had laughed at him saying he was the favorite. Both now realized that the rest of the wolves were giving them a wide berth. Three still crowding Mercy and one getting a vigorous belly rub from McCree. 

“I’m sorry,” said Hanzo, “I...had not known.”

“I didn’t know either,” said Genji, “I always assumed you and father got along because you did everything right. You even won every sparring match.”

“Because I was bigger,” said Hanzo, “Those weren’t fair to you, either.”

Shoko pushed her muzzle against the back of Hanzo’s shoulder for attention.

“Perhaps we should...” Hanzo trailed off.

“Talk about this when we’re not surrounded by wolves?” said Genji.

“Yes,” said Hanzo, glancing off.

Genji pushed himself up from his squat and walked off, giving Hanzo his space. Upon seeing whatever tension between them was dissipating, several wolves immediately swarmed Genji for attention. Just running his hands through their fur was a relief. He watched as McCree chatted with Hanzo quietly. McCree apparently comforting Hanzo over the newest revelation.

I thought you knew, thought Genji, I thought I was a joke to you, too...

I thought. 

I thought.

I thought.

“Genji?” Mercy stepped next to him as Genji was absentmindedly scratching the side of an older, sleepy wolfdog’s face, “Were you and Hanzo just arguing?”

“It’s fine,” said Genji, “We’re fine.”

“Are you sure?” said Mercy. One corner of Genji’s mouth tugged up in a not-smile. She really was so protective of him when it came to Hanzo.

“It was... just about this trip we took when we were younger,” said Genji.

“The Shirakami trip you mentioned back in the van?” said Mercy.

“It wasn’t really  a trip, it was part of our training,” said Genji, “Wilderness survival. Standard stuff. 5 days of just me and Hanzo roughing it in the woods, making our own lean-tos, that sort of thing...” Genji trailed off.

“How old were you?” said Mercy.

“Hanzo was twelve,” said Genji.

“...so you were nine,” said Mercy, her brow was crinkling.

“Are you okay?” said Genji.

“Just you and Hanzo?” Mercy, “Not your father?”

“Of course,” said Genji with a shrug, and he noticed the color drain from Mercy’s face, “What?”

“Genji, you were a 12 year old and a 9 year old left alone in the woods for five days, that’s horrific,” said Mercy.

“Every generation of the Shimada did it in some capacity,” said Genji, “And I already had plenty of training before---” he caught himself as he looked up into Mercy’s eyes, “...Oh. That’s... that’s not something families do with their kids, is it?”

“No,” said Mercy, “No it isn’t.”

“Right...” Genji looked down.

“So the argument was about the trip?” said Mercy.

“It... it turned into being more about father,” said Genji, “I guess...we both assumed he was amazing to the other when the truth was, he was terrible to both of us in different ways.”

Mercy touched his shoulder, “You were both children...”

Genji huffed a little. “I think we both wanted to believe he was good, deep down. He was strong, certainly. He made the world feel like it had a certain... order to it. That the clan’s way was the truth of the world.”

“It takes time,” said Mercy, “Even when you get enough space and perspective, it still takes a while to figure out who you are outside of a situation like that.”

Genji brought his hand over hers. “It still scares me, sometimes, like, what do I accept as normal that’s nightmarish for other people?” He glanced off, “And... and I want to remember good things about our childhood--I want to believe there are some... some strings of family love that were always there. Maybe father did love us... but he only knew how to show it in the way it was shown to him...he may not have even known--I may not even know--Am I--?” he cut himself off as he looked into her eyes.

Mercy stooped over him put her free hand against the side of his face, and gently kissed his forehead. “Genji,” she said, “You are one of the kindest, strongest, and most patient people I’ve ever met. And you know yourself. And you’re constantly working to be a better version of yourself. That’s one of the reasons why you tried so hard to bring Hanzo back into your life--would it be easier if Hanzo wasn’t in your life? Yes, but... I think for you, it’s not about wanting what’s easy.”

“Maybe I’m just dwelling on this because I’m scared, no matter how hard I worked to get here, to get better, I’m so scared of repeating that cycle,” said Genji.

“You won’t,” said Mercy, sitting down next to him,“This is happening because you want to break a cycle, and... learning things like this is a part of it. This is new ground for everyone. Of course it’s scary.”

Genji looked over at Hanzo, kneading his knuckles into the the thick fur of a wolf-dog’s neck with his face scrunched at the wolf licking his face. McCree walked up and helped haul him to his feet before both of them nearly tripped over another wolf butting into them from behind.

“He has gotten a lot better,” said Genji.

“And it’s going to keep getting better, sure there will be hiccups, but you both want this,” said Mercy, “That’s what’s important.”

Genji just quietly smiled at that. “We’re going to talk about it more when we get back,” said Genji.

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Mercy, “And if it’s any consolation, the wolves confirmed I’m not pregnant.”

Genji looked at her oddly, with one thick eyebrow arched with amusement.

“So we don’t have to worry about that yet, at least,” said Mercy, folding her arms.

“Yet?” said Genji.

Mercy just gave him a smile and a shrug, and Genji snorted and leaned his head on his shoulder. He kept his fingers dug into the wolf’s fur, breathing in the pine-cooled air.

#gency #some background mchanzo #gencyweek

[noxxy-boxxy]

Hetabang time!

So, it’s finally te time to upload this! I’ve been waiting for this moment lmao

I wrote this and my amazing partner did a drawing of the last scene, but they haven’t posted it yet so imma wait till they do and tag them! 

Edit: Here is the artwork! 

https://aph-florida-shitposts.tumblr.com/post/616694960857710592/they-my-peice-for-the-hetabang-art-thing It’s made by @aph-florida-shitposts The artis amazing and everyone should go and check it out, period.

The meeting ended sooner that day. Thank God. 

Gilbert grabbed his laptop and his briefcase, stretching his neck until it popped. It was Friday, finally, and that meant a lot of things. It meant beer, a nice dinner, some of that leftover cake, and the best part:

"Gilbert! Buongiorno!" 

He could invite him for dinner. He could finally invite Italy for dinner and ask him that thing. 

"Hey, little Italy! Guten morgen!" He smiled, his heart almost doing a cartwheel when Feliciano kissed his cheeks. "What are you doing here? You're going to miss your flight." Even after saying that, Feliciano sat on the table, and Gilbert did the same, not interested If he missed his own. 

"I was looking for you." Said the Italian, and God, if he didn't die at that moment, he really had to be a tough one. His pale face took a very slight shade of pink, invisible to Italy. 

"Oh, so you were searching for me?" Gilbert said, his speech still perfect, his tone normal, but his face warming. Slow but steady. 

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something." Gilbert arched an eyebrow, blinking once or twice. 

«Keep it cool.» He thought, panicking internally. "Oh, yeah, whatever you want, little Italy. I'm all ears." And, to be honest, he didn't expect that much, but surely he didn't see that one coming.

"Can you help me with my paperwork?" 

Oh God, Italy was lucky he liked him. He wouldn't waste his weekend explaining paperwork to anybody, but him. He was the only exception. 

But now, he surely was going to be talking about boring numbers, when they could be having a delicious dinner and a delicious dessert. Amazing. 

Unless. 

"Come with me. We can stay together at my house and I can explain to you how I do my paperwork." He smiled, petting the Italian's head. "Then, we can have dinner together. I'll make some homemade pasta for you and we can have cake at the end." And that was the exact way to convince Italy. Gilbert smiled softly, seeing Italy jump from one place to another while he sang some song. "Okay, okay. Chill, Kleine. Don't hurt yourself." Italy stopped and grabbed his hand, tangling his fingers with his own. 

"I would love that, Gilbert!" He smiled widely, so beautifully. "Oh, Gil, you're red. Is something wrong?" 

"Uh, nothing..."

They were kneading the dough, and Gilbert was amazed at the way Italy did it. His movements were perfectly fluent, his voice hummed a soft song, his eyes half-open. He stopped for a second, pinching the dough slightly. 

"It's ready to stretch and cut." Prussia nodded, and then, they began to stretch the dough, making it thinner. Over, and over, and over again, until Feliciano felt like it was perfect. Then, they passed it through the cutter, making perfect spaghetti. 

"Perfect." Said Prussia, bringing a tray with flour. "It's ready to cook." Italy nodded, looking incredibly happy. They both went to the kitchen, where the water in the pot was already boiling. Italy added some salt, and then, the pasta. 

"It should be ready in two or three minutes. Could you check the sauce?" Gilbert nodded, and went to another pot, opening it and grabbing some sauce with a spoon. He tasted it, the flavor lingering in his mouth. It was absolutely... 

"Delicious." He said, smiling widely. "It's delicious." Feliciano smiled, looking at him, small little face so adorable. He wanted to take a picture, no jokes. Gilbert covered the pot, seeing how his hand trembled, feeling his throat tightening. «Everything is going to be okay.» He had to say to himself. 

And he really hoped it would be. 

"Well, I think it's ready to drain." He nodded, getting closer. Italy was holding a fork, where one string of pasta sat. "Could you taste it, Gil?" And he extended his hand, offering him not the fork, but the food. He had to stop a second, trying to gain control of his face, to avoid that God damned red. He got even closer, eating the spaghetti from his hand. 

"It's ready." He said, tasting it. It had the right amount of salt, and it wasn't incredibly soft, but a little bit chewy. It was perfect.

Italy drained it and put it in the same pot with the sauce. he moved it around with a pair of tweezers, and then, it was perfectly ready to eat. 

"Let's go. I'm hungry." Italy smiled, grabbing a bottle of wine and a bottle of beer. Prussia nodded, grabbing the pot. 

"So, did you understand that thing about your paperwork?" Italy nodded, smiling and grabbing his glass of wine. 

"Yes, thanks." He smiled, taking a sip of wine. "You're a very good teacher, Gil." 

"Oh, ask West or America, they'll probably have something else to say." He laughed. "I am a good teacher, indeed," he started, grabbing his bottle. "but I am not going soft on anyone. You're just a special case. Usually, I would be more strict and rude with any other. Only for you." And Gilbert smiled softly, booping the Italian's nose, making him laugh.

"I like you a lot, Gil!" He smiled, and Gilbert definitely felt something jump in his chest. 

"Ah, yea, ja." He mumbled, looking away. "Actually, little Italy... Feliciano" He whispered, taking a big breath. "I like you too. I like you a lot." And Italy didn't even flinch. 

"Yeah! Me too, Gil! You're an amazing friend!" Oh, no. 

"No, dearest. I mean, uh, I like you, like, more than a friend. I like you a lot more." 

"Like a best friend, then! You're my best friend!" And Gilbert rolled his eyes, but Italy kept talking before he could explain himself. "I wouldn't change you as my best friend for anything in the world! You'll always be the best friend I could ever have, and I hope nothing ruins our friendship!" For God's sake, Gilbert thought, almost speaking again. 

Unless... 

"You... Wouldn't want me to be anything more than... Your best friend? Only... That?" He said, his voice normal, but something was cracking. "Not even-"

"Always friends!" Italy interrupted him. 

Then, he understood. Italy was understanding what he really wanted to say, but he surely didn't want to reject him. He just wanted him to... Catch the cue. He only wanted him as a friend. 

He only wanted him as a friend. 

"O-oh, yeah. Always... F-friends." He whispered, forcing that painful sensation at the back of his throat. Not yet. "I should take you to the airport so you can go back, Italy. You're going to miss your flight." He said, getting up and grabbing his keys and his helmet. He went to the garage, putting the key at the contact on his motorcycle. "Move, Italy! We don't have all the time in the world!" His words sounded a lot ruder and mean, like if he was tired or angry. Obviously, Italy got scared, and just followed the orders. The garage door opened with the controller, and they went out. Suddenly, Italy had to hold himself again Gilbert, because hell, they were going 100 kph, and it was just rising. They arrived at the airport in 3 minutes, when usually it would take 15. 

"Let’s go." And as soon as they were on the ground they were running. Or well, he was almost running. Gilbert was just walking. Incredibly quickly. Gilbert had to buy the tickets for him because obviously, the people spoke German.

"Here. Have this." Italy grabbed the tickets with one hand, while he grabbed his document and passport from his briefcase with the other. 

"Is everything alright, Gil?" He literally had to take a step back when Prussia looked at him. His eyes were glowing. 

"I don't allow my own brother to call me by my name, Italy. You don't have that privilege either." He deadpanned. 

But... Italy wasn't dumb. At least, not when it came to feelings. Even if Prussia was "angry", he saw sadness. In his face, those eyes were not glowing, they were shining.

"Gilbert..." He whispered, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but at that second, his flight was announced. Prussia didn't even say goodbye, he just left. 

His eyes were shining, yes. And he swore, he saw a tear leaving his left eye. 

«Is he sad?"

Gilbert went back to his house calmly. He entered and started washing the dishes. The leftover spaghetti was poured in a container and stored in the fridge, with the forgotten cake. Then, he went to the table, grabbing his bottle of beer. It was half full, but in a second, he drank the rest. The wine was stored in the fridge, and the glass... He literally spent half an hour looking at it, trying to go back in time, when he bought that glassware, the moment when he grabbed it from the counter, just some hours ago. That moment, when they were still friends. 

His knuckles turned white, and in a quick movement, he threw the glass against the floor, turning it to just useless shards. Panting, he kneeled at its side, slowly picking up the pieces, just hissing when one of them cut his finger. 

Wine stung, but the tears falling were even more painful. 

The meeting was in Berlin that day. Ironically.

"He didn't come today..." Whispered Italy, looking at the German's seat, unoccupied. In his place, Germany entered, even when he was, technically, on vacation. Apparently, though, he was not there for the meeting, because he wore just civilian clothes. 

"Italy." He said, looking at him. "Can we talk? Please?" Italy nodded, concerned. He looked slightly sad but he looked mad too. Something surely had to be going around the Germanic countries. "What happened last Sunday, Italy? When I came back, Prussia was devastated. And I mean, really, sad."

"I knew he was sad. We were just talking, and in a second he was suddenly really mad but really sad. I swear I saw him crying."

"What were you two talking about? Do you remember what you said or what he said the moment when he changed?" 

"We were talking about our friendship! I told him I liked him, and he told me he liked me too, but, like, more than a friend! Then I thought, well he wants to be my best friend, and then it went down really quick and he was like that in a second." 

Germany observed him for a second, and then he arched an eyebrow. 

I mean. He thought he was the clueless one, but even he would have understood that. 

"So. Let's set things clear. You said something like 'I like you', then he said 'I like you too.' Then you started talking about friends, but he said 'I like you more than a friend.' Then you started talking about best friends. Then, he was suddenly angry. Is that what happened?”

"¡Si Capitano!" Said Italy, smiling widely. And oh God, he thought he was the clueless one. 

"Italy, my dear friend." He started, taking a deep breath. He needed France. "Let's say, a man and a woman are together. And he says 'I like you more than a friend.' What would you think he's meaning?"

"He loves her!" Italy said, smiling. And he smiled and smiled until he didn't. "He... He loves... Her." Slowly, he whispered. 

"And what if he does things for her he wouldn't do in normal situations? Like, cooking for her, or allowing her to call him by his name, or taking the time to explain to her something slowly, when everyone would say he's a devil when he's teaching. Or calling her with endearments, when he doesn't do that. What would you think? Does he want to be her friend?" And Italy slowly came into realization. 

"Oh my God, I messed it up. I ruined everything. I wasted his time. I fell really low. I-" And Germany had to touch his arm, to prevent him from missing the line. "I have to go and talk to him." And he almost ran away, just in the for Ludwig to grab him and bring him back. 

"Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say, at least?" Italy arched his eyebrow, opening his mouth, but Ludwig spoke first. "He liked you even when we were dating, but he never said anything. He liked you since the beginning. And I can't risk you going there and messing it up even more because I haven't seen him this sad since 1945. He doesn't deserve so much pain, and I won't let you go there unless you know exactly what to say." He took a deep breath. "Do you like him? Not like a friend. Not like a best friend." And Italy, slowly, nodded, making him smile. "Give me a pen. I have to give you the address. He's not in Berlin, so you'll have to go now unless you want to miss the train that goes to Hamburg." Italy grabbed a pen, and Germany didn't even waste time on paper, writing it directly onto his skin. "Do you understand it?" Italy nodded, and flew, running to the train station, buying a ticket to Hamburg, and getting on the train in record time. He just hoped that there was still time for him.

He made it to Hamburg, and then, he started going around, trying to remember each street. He reached a big building of apartments and looked at the key in his hand. The door opened, incredibly, and then he started walking, trying to reach the apartment number 19. The door made a little sound when unlocked, and then he went in. 

«It has to be Ludwig's private department.» He thought to himself. Some books were easy to recognize for him because he saw them in his library. A jacket was on the sofa, he recognized it as Gilbert's. And there was a bed for a dog on the floor. 

He walked to the bedroom, and entered, finding him sleeping peacefully. 

«He's here...» He thought, slowly getting closer to him. He sat down on the bed, and at that moment, he woke up.

"What the fuck, Italy?" He almost screamed, going back. "What are you doing here? Get out!" Now he was screaming. 

"No!" Italy responded, but Gilbert didn't listen. He grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door, without paying attention to anything he would say. And when they were almost out, he stopped for a second. 

"What did you said?" 

"I'm sorry," Italy whispered, squirming in his place. "Prussia, my hand hurts..." And he left him to go. He dragged some tears left In his eyes, saying that again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't understand at that moment. Please, forgive me." And his face was suddenly red, his eyes shiny again. 

"It's not fair, I try to get out, and you drag me back, you probably don't even mean what I think you're meaning. And I thought West was bad when it came to feelings." Italy grabbed his hand, pressing it. 

"I like you too." He said, feeling Prussia's hand tremble. "I like you. Not like a friend. Not like a best friend. I like you a lot. I just thought you weren't meaning it like that, or I was just a little tipsy and I wasn't thinking, but I'm sorry. For making you cry and for hurting you." And when he looked at his face, he was crying. "I'm sorry..." He whispered one last time, slowly touching his nose, and kissing him. 

It was something slow. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. He was suddenly so weak, so small. For a second he was a child again.

His hands just hung at his sides at the beginning, but then he slid them, right to his shoulders. They separated, looking at each other for a second. Then, Gilbert spoke. 

"I like you, Feliciano." 

"Me too, Prussia." Italy smiled. 

"Call me by my name. Please." But Italy didn't, because, of course, he had to kiss him again.

#hetabang #hetabang 2020 #aph italy #aph prussia #aph germany #pruita #smol writes #smol escribe #hws italy #hws prussia #hws germany

[champhangman]

Manipulation: Trick or Cheat

aka the never-ending oneshot

Characters: Dean Ambrose/OFC and Seth Rollins/OFC Summary: She was looking forward to a break from the road. All she wanted was to spend those few precious days with her boyfriend. Turned out, her boyfriend had other plans. Word Count: 18,759 - yes, 18,759 Warnings: Cheating. Graphic Sexual Content. Use of degrading words. A/N: Shout out to @wrestlingfae for the title!

@stylesmella | @styleslee | @horcruxhunter5972 | @zombiexbody | @imtoldimbabe | @vebner37  | @justtrey19 | @alexahood21  | @styl3sl0v3r |  @blondekel77 |  @lonewolfgirl17 | @florenceivy | @meghanannexx | @skrillexslays13 | @geekoftv | @athoughtfulmindwrites | @charlottebecky | @not-that-kinda-gurl08 | @lunaticfringe216 | @13reasonswhyiblog | @itsclaaree | @mainlywwe-shitposts | @fluffyzombiemia | @spine-buster | @idle-vanity | @ladylokid | @wwewomendaily | @xfirespritex | @secretagentfangirl | @southerndreamz | @bigpixiefoot | @kakakatey | @luckygillblog | @wweburnitdown | @supermanrreigns | @thedevilnisworld | @stylesgirluk | @daddysamizayn | @devittslegos | @finnsauroraborealis | @taryndibiase | @imagineall-the-fandoms | @dkwiggins

I was looking forward to some precious time off with my boyfriend. Our schedule had been insane since Summerslam and we were finally granted a full week of respite. Seth's wrestling school had finished up its summer course, my filming for a network show premiering in the fall had wrapped up, and I thought we were both looking forward to a lazy week together. We could recuperate from travel and give our worn-out bodies some well-needed rest. The only plans I'd made were for a mani and pedi that first full day at home. Otherwise the week was open with faint plans to laze about, watch Netflix, clean out my closet, and spend plenty of time on my boyfriend's dick. The week before, Seth had mentioned pretty much the same plans.

Naturally it was a shock the next afternoon when, amid Raw preparations, he sought me out and casually mentioned we were going to have company for a few days.

"Who?" I asked, my mental images of us having lazy sex on the couch starting to fade.

"Dean's house is getting fumigated. He has to clear out for four days."

There went lazy sex on the couch. Dean had stayed with us once before and spent most of the time on our couch, when he wasn't poking through the fridge or flirting with the single mom next door. "Four days? Babe…"

"I made him promise not to spy on the neighbor."

"That's all well and good but…" I glanced around to make sure we were somewhat alone. "I can't fuck you whenever I want if we have a guest."

Seth chuckled and pulled me in for a kiss. "Don't worry. He'll be doing Ambrose things. You'll hardly know he's there."

Somehow I doubted that. But I sighed and nodded and promised between kisses that I'd be a nice hostess. And I mentally promised myself that I wouldn't let Dean's presence keep me from enjoying my man's dick as much as possible.

I liked Dean. He was fun. A chill guy, he always seemed to go with the flow. It was just that he was sort of, well… Handsy. Whenever we hung out with him he always managed to touch me and make it seem like an accident. Fingers brushing my thigh. A hand bumping against my ass. A palm sweeping over my breasts. And more than a few times he had greeted me with a hug that lasted a little too long for a disinterested friend, complete with a soft sigh and strong hands catching my ass to hold me close. He never made me uncomfortable, he just made me raise my eyebrow a lot.

And he was a flirt. I knew that, even before I started dating Seth, had seen him flirt with nearly every woman between the ages of seventeen and seventy. But he always seemed to tease me harder than others. Especially once I began dating his friend.

We had most of that first day alone. There was the usual busyness of collecting the mail and unpacking and grocery shopping. Knowing how precious our time was, I postponed my salon appointment to the next day and spent our time in the grocery store teasing Seth to a fever pitch. I wanted him to fuck the daylights out of me as soon as we got back to the house, so I rubbed against him, squeezed between him and the shelves, even palmed his cock in the produce section. I moaned about how hot it was while we stood in line, and while we unloaded our bags into the back of the car I bent over and wiggled my ass. He said nothing, merely giving long sighs and occasionally squeezing my ass, and at the car he pushed against me so I could feel how hard he was.

Once we were on the way home he spoke.

"Think it's cute teasing me, huh?" He reached over and grabbed my thigh. Seconds later the skirt of my summer dress was pushed up and he was rubbing my damp panties. "Being a cock tease turns you on doesn't it baby?"

"Yes," I answered honestly, wriggling my hips. His fingers pushed my panties aside and began stroking my pussy.

"Should have fucked you right there in the parking lot," he moaned, lightly slapping my slit. He squeezed then began rubbing my clit. "You'd have let me wouldn't you? You wouldn't have stopped me from pushing your dress up and giving you my dick…"

My pussy flooded. "No… I wouldn't have…"

He turned onto a side street that led to our house, fingers working my clit harder. My gasps and moans filled the car, and when he jerked his hand away I cried out in protest. "Hush," he soothed, clapping my thigh. "We're almost there."

"I need you," I told him, reaching for the front of his jeans. The zipper lowered easily and within seconds his cock was in my hand. The tip glistened with precum and my mouth watered. Without caring who might see I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned over.

"Fuck," he moaned, hand gripping my hair as I went down on him. I felt the car speed up when he thrust up and swallowed his cock. "That's right, baby, get it good and wet…"

I stayed on him, swallowing and moaning and sucking, until my lungs screamed for air. I lifted, only to be shoved back down.

"Suck it," he ordered, fingers digging into my head. "Don't stop until I tell you."

My eyes began to water and my lungs were burning but I stayed down, pussy clenching as he whispered what my reward for being a cock tease would be. He was going to fuck me so hard. I was going to have to put the groceries away with his dick in me. He was going to pound my pussy until I was begging him to stop. And when he finished, I was going to be swallowing every drop of his cum.

He pulled me off and I pressed my face to his thigh, panting, while he drove into our garage. I pulled myself upright once the car was parked. Climbing out, I had barely set both feet on the concrete floor when he was in front of me. His cock was still out and wet from my mouth. He began stroking himself and I heard the trunk click open before he nudged the car's remote into his back pocket. "Start getting bags, baby."

Shakily, I moved to the back of the car, eyes never straying from him as I grabbed a couple of bags. I had to fumble in my purse for the door key, which took longer than usual because he stood behind me, pushing my skirt up and groping my ass. I unlocked the door, moaning at the feel of his hand squeezing and the sound of his other hand working his cock. My panties were shoved down just as I pushed the door open.

Seth propelled me forward, one finger sliding into my pussy. When my steps faltered he shoved it in deeper. "Hurry up," he whispered in my ear, letting the tip of his cock caress my ass. "You've got more bags to get."

I nodded and walked as best I could into the kitchen. I dropped the bags on the island and my purse on the floor, bending forward and moaning his name when his finger began pumping. It curved, pushed deeper, and I was propelled back to the garage. He eased another finger in, drawing a cry out of me as I stumbled into the kitchen. The bags landed on the floor and I shuddered. "I'm gonna cum," I gasped, doubling over and grabbing at his legs for support. Squealing when he pulled his fingers out, I trembled, gasping, as he spread me.

"Two more bags," he murmured just as his cock glided over my slit. I pushed my hips back and received a smack on my ass. He teased my entrance with the tip, fingers clenching my ass, and I held my breath in anticipation.

"Seth," I whined when he pulled back.

"Two more bags," he repeated, dragging my panties down my thighs. They fell, a crumpled twist of lace, around my ankles and I stepped out of them. He gave my ass a slap then pulled me upright by my dress. "Get them in, okay?"

"Seth," I pleaded, twisting to look at him.

He chuckled, placating me with a kiss. I leaned against him, squirming, while his hands squeezed my breasts. I barely felt the material of my dress being tugged down until his fingers began pinching my bared nipples. "Get the bags," he moaned against my lips, twisting my nipples until I squealed. "Hurry up."

Pushed away from him, I whined and ran out to the garage. The doors of the car were still open and I groaned. It seemed to take me forever to walk around closing them, and I hurried to the back to get the last two bags, dumbly realizing the garage door was still open only when I saw a figure coming towards me. My lips parting to scream, I saw with a mixture of relief and horror that it was Dean. Backing up, I wrenched the driver's door open and leaned in to press the button that would close the garage door.

He stopped as I slammed the car door closed. The garage door slowly descended and he reached up to remove his sunglasses, lips curving into that smirk I knew so well. "Well, hello, doll."

"You're a day early," I blurted. My pussy clenched, reminding me of my unsated longing, and I almost whined with dejection. His sudden arrival meant Seth would not be fucking me while I put away groceries. His being there a day early meant my pussy wouldn't get pounded anytime soon. His presence meant that I would not be swallowing cum until later. Glancing to the door leading inside, I was about to call out to Seth when Dean spoke.

"I decided there was no point in even going home. I've got enough clothes to see me through. The fumigators have a key and my alarm code. I decided fuck it and came on. I figured you and Seth wouldn't mind."

Except I did mind. I minded very much. My pussy was aching to be fucked. I was dripping wet – I could feel my own wetness trickling down my thighs. My nipples ached to be sucked and pinched and… I gasped in shock, hands flying to cover my chest. My dress was still pulled down. Which meant Dean had gotten more than an eyeful of my breasts. Turning my back to him, I yanked my dress back into place to the sound of his warm chuckling.

"I didn't say anything because…" I heard his footsteps on the concrete, then felt his breath on my neck. "They're nice tits."

"Pervert," I muttered, turning back to face him. His eyes were twinkling and his smile was infectious. It was impossible to stay mad at him, delayed sex or not. "And you're right, we don't mind. You know you're always welcome here."

"Even though I barge in when you two are about to fuck?" He clicked his tongue. "Didn't know anyone loved me that much."

"I'll forgive you this time."

"Thanks. Now, where's my hug?"

Rolling my eyes, I wrapped my arms around him and gave a gentle squeeze. His arms, thicker now than I had ever known them to be, held me close for a moment. And, just as I had known they would, his hands cupped my ass. They squeezed, and I felt him inhale. I also felt the bulge in his jeans, nudging my lower abdomen. Pushing against his chest, I narrowed my eyes. "Pervert."

"Nice tits," he reminded me, giving my ass another squeeze before letting go. "Where's Seth?"

"Inside – Seth!" I called out, moving to grab the bags out of the trunk. They slid from my grasp as Dean reached around me, and I felt that bulge again while he leaned to close the trunk.

"He knows I'm here," he chuckled, palm swiping the side of my breast as he pulled his hand from the car. "I texted him when my Uber pulled up."

With a sigh of annoyance, I headed inside. When I entered the kitchen I found Seth putting away groceries. His jeans were zipped and there was a breezy smile on his face when he turned to greet Dean. Not even a hint that just moments before he had been fingering me. He took the grocery bags from Dean and they began to talk about the fumigation and the infestation of ants that had made the fumigation necessary. I resigned myself to having to wait for sex and ignored the longing in my pussy as I finished putting the groceries away. I pulled cold beers out for Seth and Dean and poured a large glass of wine for myself.

"I'll go drop my shit in the guest room," Dean announced after draining the last of his beer. There was a smirk on his lips as he placed it on the counter, then he bent to get something off the floor. My cheeks burned when he straightened and I saw my panties dangling from his index finger.

"Give me that," I yelped, snatching them away and crumpling them in my hand. Gulping down the rest of my wine, I looked to Seth. "I need to run upstairs for a few minutes."

Seth chuckled, as did Dean, the latter retrieving his suitcase and backpack. As soon as he'd headed up the stairs, Seth jerked me to him.

"He'll be right back," I whispered, even as I tilted my head for his kiss.

"What do you need to do?"

"Shower," I mumbled.

He smirked. "Gonna rub one out?"

"Yes." I stressed the word, eyes locked with his. Maybe I could entice him to join me. "I'm gonna use the showerhead."

"As ready as that sweet little pussy is, it won't take more than one finger to get off." He stepped over to the counter and retrieved my phone. Handing it to me with a smile, he leaned close and nipped my earlobe. "Video it for me."

"Seth," I whined.

"You better say my name when you cum." His tongue was fire against my throat. "Go. Now."

I surged forward, clenching my phone tightly. As I hurried upstairs I unlocked my phone and brought up the camera app, wanting to be completely ready when I got to the bathroom. My steps slowed as I passed the guest room, and I stopped, peering through the open door. Dean's things were on the floor by the bed but I couldn't see him. Wondering where he'd disappeared too so quickly, I was about to continue down the hall when I heard it.

A soft, deep moan.

Curious, and reminding myself that it was my fucking house, I stepped into the guest room. The door to the bathroom was ajar and as I moved closer I heard another moan. I didn't dare push the door open, but I leaned close so I could peer through the crack.

A thick, hard cock, being jacked roughly by a familiar hand. I tilted my head, able to make out that he'd unbuttoned his jeans. His knuckles were white, hand slamming down and jerking up in a speedy, steady rhythm. His other hand moved into view, giving his smooth balls a squeeze before falling away. I shuffled closer, holding my breath, until I could see he was holding onto the edge of the sink. His head was tilted back, tongue dragging his lips.

"Mm, mm," he moaned, hand moving faster.

I knew I should leave. He was my boyfriend's friend. I had no right to spy on him jacking off. But I was mesmerized. The rough, almost brutal, way he worked his hand over his cock. Those deep moans. Precum dripped from the tip and he moaned louder, hips beginning to thrust. I stared, fascinated by his cock. It was a lot thicker than Seth's. Looked to be about the same length, maybe a hair or two longer. My thighs squeezed together and I dared a quick breath, willing my pussy to stop clenching with longing.

"Ahh," he gasped, hand moving lightning-fast. With a guttural moan, he stopped stroking and squeezed. My eyes flitted to the straining muscles of his forearm then darted back to his cock just in time to see the first gush of cum. He stroked once, growling as another thick rope flowed.

Chest heaving, I stared, wide-eyed as he continued to cum. My pussy squeezed and I felt my juices trickling down my thighs again. Backing away, his moans still echoing in the bathroom, I nearly tripped over his suitcase. I turned, rushing out, making sure to gently close the bedroom door behind me.

I came twice during my shower. The first I made sure to video for Seth, whimpering his name as my fingers rubbed my clit. The second orgasm took longer but was just as strong, aided by the showerhead. My eyes shut, images of Dean's dick flashing in my mind, I dropped the showerhead and cupped my pussy as I came, hissing through clenched teeth while my pussy gushed against my palm.

***

Riddled with guilt, I launched myself into making an amazing dinner for Seth. For Dean as well, but it was mainly for my boyfriend that I went to the trouble of running to the store to get more supplies. While on the road I tried to rationalize that I had done nothing wrong. I mean, I hadn't burst in and sucked Dean's dick.

Would have liked to, my mind announced.

I hadn't burst in and begged him to fuck me with that super thick cock.

He'd probably split me in two.

I hadn't marched in and slurped down his cum.

I wonder what his tastes like. And if he always cums so much.

Back at the house, I was grateful they didn't hang around the kitchen while I worked. I chopped and diced and sliced. I sautéed and simmered and steamed. I set the table, even putting on a tablecloth and lighting a few candles. I still felt guilty, but not as much, when I called to them that dinner was ready. I sat at my usual place, across from Seth, and when Dean claimed the seat next to mine I realized something.

The bastard would probably get off again if he knew I'd watched him.

My guilt receded and I enjoyed the dinner. We talked about work, of course, because one could never be long in Dean's presence without the conversation turning to wrestling. I ignored the feel of his thigh resting against mine. I ignored his arm bumping mine occasionally. When his hand rested on my knee, though, I paused and cleared my throat.

The hand squeezed then slid upward, his mini monologue about the current storylines never faltering. I stared at my plate, watching from my peripheral vision as the edge of the tablecloth fluttered from his movement. When his fingers met the hem of my skirt they kept going, and I pressed my thighs together, hoping to stop him.

"You okay baby?" Seth asked, finishing off his serving of dessert.

"Fine," I promised when strong fingers dug into my thigh. Seeing that all our plates were empty, I cleared my throat. "Coffee?"

"I'll get it." My boyfriend pushed back his chair and stood. "Least I can do after that amazing dinner."

"It really was fucking delicious," Dean said, pushing his fingers between my clamped thighs. The tips barely stroked my panties and I saw the corner of his mouth lift in a smirk.

"Thank you," I murmured, watching Seth gather the plates and silverware.

"I'll do the dishes after coffee," he promised, leaning across the table to give me a quick kiss.

Caught off guard, I felt my thighs relax. Instantly Dean's hand was tucked between them, strong fingers slowly rubbing over my panties. I dropped one hand to my lap and tried pushing his arm away. Watching Seth disappear into the kitchen, I released my breath shakily. "Dean—"

"Shh." His fingers rubbed steadily while he lifted his glass for a sip.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, biting back an instinctive moan.

"I'm enjoying a full stomach after a great dinner with my friends." One finger traced my slit. "I'm gonna have a cup of coffee, then I'll probably take a shower and no doubt crash early."

"You can't—" I cut off when his finger rubbed harder, forcing me to feel that he was making me wet. "This is wrong, Dean."

"Then why is your pussy already dripping?" he asked in a whisper. He cupped me, licking his lips. "Open your legs a little more."

I did so, even as I shook my head, and to my shame felt my pussy flood. "No," I whispered when his fingers began pushing my panties aside. "Seth—"

"Is still gonna fuck you senseless tonight. Which is why I'm crashing early. I'm just getting you wet for him." He spread me. Dragged his fingers back and forth. Then, stealing my breath, he began rubbing my clit. "Just tell me something, doll."

"What?" I breathed, eyes on the door, expecting Seth to appear and see through the tablecloth.

"Does he cum inside this sweet little pussy?"

I shook my head. Seth always pulled out. He either came on my stomach or in my mouth. The last thing he wanted was for me to get pregnant. Despite my birth control, he was fastidious about not cumming inside me. The only time he came inside me was when he was wearing a condom, which was rarely. And the times we did anal, which—

"You know what your cunt needs?" Dean whispered.

My feet shuffled against the floor as he continued rubbing my clit. Above the sound of my pulse pounding I could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen. And the slick sound of fingers manipulating wet flesh. "What?" I gasped. I'd stopped trying to push his hand away. Instead, I held onto his arm to keep from squirming. "What's it need?"

"My dick," he said in a low voice, fingers moving faster. "It wants it, I fucking know that. But it really needs to be pumped full of cum."

I pressed my lips together, swallowing down a squeal. My thighs began shaking. I closed my eyes.

"My cum," he clarified, his voice a whisper in my ear. "I can tell just by feeling that it's a pretty cunt. Smooth and I'll bet it's a sweet little pink. I guarantee it would look a hundred times better with my cum dripping out of it."

An image of thick, ropey cum flashed in my mind. I clamped my thighs together, pushing against his fingers. Shameless, I hissed out his name, my orgasm galloping towards me.

"You gonna cum, doll?" Despite my closed thighs, he slid his fingers down and pushed them into my pussy. His thumb wriggled around then stroked my clit. "Yeah, doll, cum on my fingers."

"I—" I gasped, nails digging into his arm.

"Cum on my fingers," he hissed, fingering me swiftly. "While your boyfriend fixes coffee in the next room. He has no idea his sweet girlfriend is such a slut, does he?"

"I'm not—"

"Cum," he growled in my ear, pushing down on my clit and rubbing hard. "And I won't tell him you spied on me earlier."

My eyes snapped open and I stared at him, hips still rocking. "You—"

"I could smell you," he whispered. "Now, doll. Fucking… Cum."

I did, trying my best to be as silent as possible. My pussy squeezed his fingers and I swallowed a whine when they pulled out, breath escaping in a sharp gasp when I felt the gush of fluid. He stroked my pussy blindingly fast as I came, shuddering and squirting and biting my lip to keep from moaning. When I slumped back in my seat he gave my clit a few strokes that caused my back to arch, then he pulled his hand away. I watched, breathing hard, as he wiped it clean on the edge of the tablecloth.

***

Seth was doing the dishes. He'd insisted, oblivious to my recent orgasm, after we'd finished coffee. After, he said, he had some paperwork he had to finish for the school. Dean had said again he was going to shower, giving me a knowing smirk before heading upstairs. When I'd passed his room I'd paused and heard the sower running, then hastily rushed to the master bedroom. I stripped out of my skirt, still damp from my unexpected squirting, and shoved it into the hamper, then threw in the rest of my clothes. My hand strayed between my thighs, still able to feel Dean's fingers.

It wasn't cheating, I insisted to the annoying voice in the back of my brain. I'd done more with Seth when we had started seeing each other. Which had been while he was still with someone else. We hadn't fucked until he had finally broken up with her. The weeks and months of sneaking around had consisted of making out, getting each other off with our hands and mouths. And it wasn't like I was going to break up with Seth to be with Dean, right? It was just a little heavy-handed flirting.

Shaking my head, I went into the bathroom and washed off. In the kitchen, Seth had promised he would join me in bed as soon as the paperwork was done. He was sorry, he had completely forgotten about it, and if he didn't finish it tonight then there could be… I couldn't remember. I'd nodded, pushing aside my longing to get fucked yet again, and promised I'd be waiting for him.

I came out of the bathroom and turned back the covers. I turned the lights down. I brushed out my hair so it fell down my back. I dabbed his favorite perfume behind my ears and between my breasts and in the creases of my thighs. I tucked the bottle of lube beneath my pillow because anal was always a possibility. I slipped into the bathroom again to brush my teeth thoroughly, then applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Back in the bedroom, I slipped into a thin silk robe and was about to climb into the bed when my phone buzzed from the nightstand.

It was from Dean. Hey can you come help me with something?

What do you need help with?

The reply wasn't instant so I waited, eyes widening when a picture of a hard cock, covered by thin boxer briefs, appeared on my phone's screen.

I just need a hand. Maybe two.

I steeled myself, about to suggest he use his own hands when another picture appeared. Almost the same as the first, this time the top of his dick poking out of the waistband. My mouth watered when I saw it wet with precum. The attached words sent a tremor through me.

Been like this since dinner. Keep thinking how good that tight pussy would feel.

I can't.

You sure?

Another picture appeared before I could reply that yes, I was sure. I felt my will start to crumble at the sight of his whole dick. For a long time I stared at the photo, sorely tempted to go give him a hand. Or two. I wavered, finally closing the picture and sent a reply.

I'm sure.

I locked my phone and crawled into bed to wait for my boyfriend. When he joined me half an hour later, I latched onto him, not caring that he hadn't closed the bedroom door. Though feverish and desperate for a good, old-fashioned fucking, I didn't protest when he set a slow pace. I yearned to cum so I guided his fingers to my clit after he entered me. It seemed to take forever, though, and it wasn't until he flipped us over and urged me to ride him that I felt the stirrings of pure heat ripple through my body. His fingers strummed my clit while he groped and squeezed my breasts with his other hands and I began to bounce wildly, determined to orgasm.

Seth threw his head back, moaning, and at the same time I sensed movement near the doorway. I dragged my gaze from his face and looked to the door.

Dean. Gasping, my hips faltering, I was shocked by the sudden lust that surged through me. I braced my hands on Seth's chest, rocking and bouncing harder while I stared at the man leaning in the doorway. He was wearing only his boxer briefs and one hand rubbed back and forth over his cock as he watched us. His lips pulled into a smirk, he squeezed his cock then tugged the waistband down so I could see it. Hard. Thick. The tip glistened faintly in the dim light. He gave it a few lazy strokes before lifting his hand to his face. My eyes snapped up just in time to see him lick his fingers then he resumed the lazy strokes. I could see his lips forming silent words.

Fuck. So hot.

Beginning to shudder, I dug my nails into Seth's skin. He sat up, burying his face between my breasts and I clung to him, eyes still locked on Dean.

I'll fuck you better, he mouthed.

My eyes slid shut and I shrieked as I came. Mind flashing with images of Dean's cock and the memory of his fingers inside me, I shook, releasing a shrill cry. My hips jerked up and I felt an overwhelming sensation of release while my pussy squirted. I was vaguely aware of Seth growling and gasping and hissed at the feel of hot cum landing on my stomach.

When I opened eyes a few seconds later, Dean was gone.

After a quick shower I slid into bed, not surprised to find Seth had already fallen asleep. My eyes darted to the open door but there was no sign of Dean. On a whim I reached for my phone and my heart thudded when I saw several messages waiting.

You little slut.

You're so fucking hot when you cum.

I can't wait to make you cum again.

Loved seeing you get off from me watching.

Do you always squirt? Or just when I'm around?

I want you to squirt on my dick.

I'd keep fucking you until you did it again.

Then fill you up with my cum.

I read the messages over and over, shocked. And, to my horror, slightly turned on. I was about to turn my phone off for the night when another message and a picture appeared on the screen.

This should be in your pussy. The picture was of his dick, gleaming with precum. The tip was straining and I could almost feel its throbbing.

I didn't dare reply. I pressed my lips together, staring at the photo for what seemed an eternity. Until it was bumped further up the screen by more messages.

Or your throat.

I'd love to fuck your pretty throat until its raw.

My hand cupped my throat, imagining how it would feel to have his dick sliding down it.

He's asleep isn't he?

I glanced over to Seth. He was, indeed, asleep. Lying on his front, one arm beneath the pillow, the other sprawled across the space between us. Guiltily I shifted the phone down, as though he would wake suddenly and see the screen.

I'd still be fucking you.

Making you cum again.

I can't wait to fuck you doll.

Feel you cum on my dick.

Get so tight I can't move.

Can you hear me?

Suddenly, through the door and from down the hall, I could hear deep, throaty moans. I closed my eyes as longing rippled through me, biting my lip hard to keep from gasping.

Hard to text and jack off.

For a long time no new messages appeared. I closed my eyes. Forced my breathing to remain normal as I listened to those deep moans. Despite my immense orgasm earlier, my pussy ached with longing. The moans rose in pitch, accompanied by gasps. Then a strained, throaty shout. Several gasps and then the moans returned, slower this time, and as I clenched my eyes shut I could see thick gushes of cum spurting out of his cock. A moment later my phone gave a small buzz and I jerked. I opened my eyes to see a picture of his dick.

Still hard. Cum still oozing from the tip. There was a trail of it down the length of his cock, and scattered pools of it on his abdomen. I licked my lips and released a shaky breath as another picture arrived.

It was him from the chest down, and I could see just how much he had cum. It was all over. On his stomach. His abs. The hand gently squeezing his dick. His arm. There was even some on the sheet.

Did he always cum so much?

I had to waste all this. You're a bad slut.

Good night.

Dream about me fucking you.

With shaky fingers I turned off my phone and slid it onto the nightstand. I switched off the light and tugged the covers up, ears straining to hear any further sounds from down the hall. I heard nothing but the muffled sound of a door closing. I lay awake for a long time, unable to keep from imagining him in the shower. His thick body and big cock soaped up… The door closed again, jarring me back to reality. A moment later I heard the guest room door click shut.

How was I going to endure four days of this torture?

***

I had, per Dean's request, dreamed about him. Not fucking me. Instead, I dreamed about him fingering me in a roomful of people. And I dreamed about him fingering me backstage at Raw, with our coworkers right around the corner. Then I dreamed about him fingering me in the corner of the ring during a match. It was in the middle of a dream of him fingering me on the announce table that I jerked awake.

Seth was just getting out of bed. He leaned over to kiss me. "Bad dream?"

"Why?" I asked, fearful of what sounds I could have possibly made.

"You kept moaning. Then I heard you saying something like 'No… Not here!'" He frowned slightly. "What was it?"

"I don't know," I lied. "Must not have been too bad if I can't remember, right?"

"Guess so." He leaned in for another kiss. "I'm heading to the gym. Coming?"

"I'm going to be lazy today and skip it." Untangling my legs from the covers, which I had kicked off and twisted in during my sleep, I sat up.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You going anywhere today?"

"My mani and pedi this afternoon." I slid out of bed and reached for the robe I'd been wearing the night before.

"Want to meet for a movie after? Then we can go to dinner." He stretched and headed for the bathroom.

"Sounds good to me." I followed him, slipping past him to retrieve my hairbrush.

"I'll see if Dean wants to come," he said. Before I could formulate a reply, he turned on the shower and closed the door.

Dragging the brush through my hair, I inwardly huffed. It seemed we wouldn't be able to do anything alone as long as Dean was our guest. Then I brightened, thinking it was very possible that he wouldn't want to tag along. "I'm going down to make coffee," I called to Seth before leaving the bathroom.

I made a point of taking off my skimpy robe and putting on a t-shirt and pajama pants. I had a feeling that Dean would still be asleep, but I didn't want to lure more temptation. Even though I was turned on by him. Retrieving my phone, I turned it on and went downstairs. The guest room door was closed when I passed, and the kitchen empty when I arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief before starting the coffee.

By the time Seth came down I had already filled his travel mug. He mumbled thanks between a series of kisses then, gym bag over one shoulder, grabbed his keys and left, promising he'd be back in a couple of hours. I fixed a cup of coffee for myself and sat at the table, unlocking my phone and scrolling through social media. My mind kept straying to the texts from Dean, though. And before I could think better of it I opened my messages, biting my lip as I read his lurid texts and stared at the photos he'd sent. More messages had arrived, obviously sent in the middle of the night.

It's 6am and all I can think about is you cumming on my fingers.

You're fast asleep and moaning.

Are you dreaming of me? Slut.

I can see your tits.

I can see your pussy too.

Do you always sleep naked?

You want to wake up to me fucking you? Wake up cumming on my dick?

You'd probably like me to wake you up with my fingers. Have you good and wet so I can slide right in.

You're still moaning. I must be fucking you good.

Gasping, I read the messages again, horrified at the implications. He'd come into my room? Watched me sleep? How long had he been in there? How had I not known? I felt violated. Outraged. I had a good mind to march upstairs and tell him to get the hell out of my house.

Despite my anger, I was tingling with desire. Seth never woke me up by pleasuring me. If he woke up and wanted sex, he cuddled close and nudged me with his dick until I woke up. Sometimes he would squeeze my ass or fondle my breasts, but he never roused me by fingering me.

I gulped down the rest of my coffee. I needed to do something other than read and reread his messages. I needed something to get my mind off of Dean, his fingers, and his dick.

At a loss, I got up and fixed my breakfast. It was mind-numbingly dull and did little to quell my unwanted desire, but I focused as hard as I could. As I carried my plate of toast, fruit, and yogurt back to the table, I heard a heavy tread on the stairs. I looked up while sitting down and bit my lip when Dean entered the kitchen.

He was shirtless. A pair of basketball shorts hung low on his hips and, unwillingly, my gaze rested on the ill-concealed bulge of his cock. Was the man always hard?

"Mornin'," he drawled, voice thick with sleep. He didn't cover his mouth while yawning, and rubbed his chest as he crossed to the coffeepot.

"Morning," I replied, biting into a piece of pineapple.

"Where's Seth?" he asked after another yawn.

I pulled my gaze from his crotch and watched his arms ripple as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Gym."

He grunted. My eyes followed the hand that reached down and adjusted his dick. It jutted out even more now, and I could tell he wore nothing beneath the shorts. He rested his hand on the countertop and lifted his cup for a hearty swig.

I turned my attention back to my breakfast. And, still striving to be a good hostess, I realized I should offer him something to eat. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Bacon and eggs if you got it," he said. His voice was clearer now. He took another swig of coffee and sighed.

"Turkey bacon?" I offered.

"Sure."

I was on my feet and taking the eggs and bacon out of the fridge before I realized that he was perfectly capable of cooking his own breakfast. He was a grown man. I wasn't obligated to cook for him. But I did anyway, my eyes occasionally straying to the hard-on in his shorts. He leaned against the counter after refilling his cup. He was blocking the drawer where I kept the cooking utensils and I hesitated, then finally moved close and reached around him.

Mistake. Big mistake. Because he shifted and without warning his cock was pressing into my hip. I moved to the side and he moved with me. Looking up at him, I saw him smirking around the rim of his coffee cup.

"I need to get the spatula," I explained, holding my breath when he straightened. His cock moved from my hip to my abdomen.

"Sorry, doll," he murmured, making no move to step out of my way.

I managed to open the drawer and fish out the spatula. Slamming the drawer, I turned back to the stove, his chuckle following me.

He followed me as well. "I need more bacon," he instructed, stepping closer than necessary. I felt him shift, my grip on the spatula tightening as his cock rested against my ass. "Eight slices should do."

"Stop," I whispered, hating the tremors in my hand as I reached for more bacon.

"Why?" he whispered, hand sliding over my hip. "Scared he'll come back early?"

"N-no…" Seth would only leave the gym early if there was a death, an injury, or the gym caught fire. "He's not due back for another hour and a half."

"You don't really want me to stop." His hand splayed over my abdomen and he rolled his hips. His cock pressed tighter to my ass. He moaned, rolling his hips again. "Do you, doll?"

"It's not right," I gasped, watching the bacon begin to curl in the pan.

"Isn't it?" he challenged.

"It's wrong," I insisted.

"But it feels so good," he moaned.

He was right. It did feel good. Illicit though it was, there was a carnal delight in him rubbing his dick against my ass while I cooked his breakfast. I gasped when his hand began to slide under my shirt, dropping the spatula with a clatter as his fingers stroked the underside of my breast.

"Did you dream about me?" he asked, lips brushing my ear.

I nodded, squeezing my thighs together. I willed myself to push him away. But the desire for his touch was too strong. Cursing my body's willingness to cave to his touches, I somehow managed to turn the bacon before it burned.

"What was I doing to you?" His voice was a low moan. Strong fingers began rolling my nipple. His other hand came up, doing the same to my other nipple, and I felt his cock twitch when I arched into his touch.

"Fingering me," I gasped, pushing my ass back.

"Where?"

"Backstage at Raw." A moan escaped when he pinched my nipples, and I bit my lip hard as one hand fell away. I watched it push the pan off the eye then switch off the stove and didn't resist when he guided me away from the heat.

"What else?" Dean nipped my earlobe then sucked it. Releasing it with a groan, he let go of my nipple and jerked my t-shirt up. My arms raised on their own accord and I shivered at the cool air swirling over my bared breasts.

"In the ring. In a roomful of people. On the announce table," I blurted, crossing my arms over my chest. His hands were rough on my hips, jerking me around to face him, and I stumbled, leaning against the counter.

"You want to get caught," he said with a smirk. I began to shake my head, but he chuckled. "Yeah, you do. Little slut."

"I'm not a slut," I declared. As though I weren't standing topless in my kitchen with a man that wasn't my boyfriend. As though I wasn't aroused from his words and touches.

"Aren't you?" He stepped toward me, tongue darting over his lips when I didn't attempt to slip away. His hands, warm and strong, cupped my wrists and easily guided my arms to my sides. "Good girlfriends don't let other guys play with their tits."

"I—"

"Did you delete the messages I sent you?" he asked. His beard scrapped my jaw, then my throat. Then it was rasping over my chest.

My breath stuttered as his lips brushed one peaked nipple. I couldn't answer his question. A good girlfriend would have deleted them without reading them. But I hadn't. Eyes widening, I glanced down at him and shivered.

"Slut," he hissed. He darted his tongue over my nipple rapidly then drew it into his mouth. His moan sent tremors of pure fire through my veins. I slid one hand into his shorn hair, feebly telling myself I would push him away. But he pulled and nibbled so expertly I merely held on. He switched to my other nipple, moaning and sucking and nipping until I was gasping.

"Dean…" I continued to hold on, back arching, even after he released my nipple with a slurping pop.

"A good girlfriend would be slapping me," he whispered.

"I am a good girlfriend," I cried, hating him for inferring that I wasn't. "I've never—"

"Cheated? Good. You're still not."

My lips parted in surprise. "You don't call this cheating?"

"It's not cheating unless we're fucking," he promised.

I gaped at him, shocked by the absurdity of the words. They were the exact words Seth had whispered in my ear the first time our flirting had led to us fooling around in his hotel room. It wasn't cheating unless his dick was inside my pussy. And I had caved.

Just like I was caving now.

"Did you really come in my bedroom this morning?" I asked, needing to know.

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"Watched you sleep. Listened to you moan." He cupped my breast and squeezed. His thumb plucked my nipple, causing me to squirm.

"How long?"

"Long enough," he answered vaguely. He smirked, pulling at my nipple until my back arched.

"Why?"

"Because I'm attracted to sluts."

"What if I'd woken up?"

He chuckled, hand gliding down my torso and nudging my pajama pants lower on my hips. "You'd have seen me rubbing my dick."

"Did you—" I bit my lip, not sure I wanted to know the answer to the question I couldn't fully ask.

"Cum? No," he sighed, fingers stroking my hip. His tongue flicked against my nipple. "I was a good boy and went back to my room."

"You? A good boy?" I scoffed. Squealing when he bit down hard on my nipple, I attempted to push him off me. He held fast though, his hand a vise on my hip, until the pain gave way to a rush of pleasure. Then he pulled away.

"Look what you fucking do to me," he whispered, cupping his cock through his shorts. He pulled the shorts down over his cock and my pussy flooded at the sight of it.

I hesitated. My gaze slid to the clock and I was surprised that only forty-five minutes had passed since my boyfriend had left. Looking back to Dean, I licked my lips. "What do you want?"

"I want to bend you over and fuck you 'til you beg me to stop," he announced with the candor only he could use. I sucked in a breath, watching his hand slowly stroke his dick. "I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk for the rest of the day. I want to make you cum so hard you're still shaking when he gets back."

Trembling, I looked from his face to his dick and back again. His name was a faint whisper when his hand slid into my hair and dragged me to him.

"I want to own you," he whispered hotly. I could feel his cock between us, could feel his hand still working over it. "I want to make your pussy mine and fuck you so good he'll never get you off again." He moaned, hand moving faster. His fingers tightened in my hair. "But I'll settle for owning your pretty little mouth."

The next thing I knew, we were in the living room. I didn't remember moving or being moved. I didn't remember agreeing to let him own my mouth. I didn't remember him taking off his shorts and sitting on the couch. Or my pajama pants being removed. Yet there I was, kneeling on the floor in front of him. His cock was thicker than I had thought. My fingers could just barely wrap around it. I watched my hand move up and down. Watched a bead of precum trickle out of the tip.

Not cheating, I told myself as I leaned forward.

"Oh yeah," Dean whispered while I wrapped my lips around the tip. His hand was still in hair. I swiped my tongue along the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, and took more of him into my mouth. He gave a soft moan and pushed at my head. "Take it all in, doll."

I didn't know if I could. But I relaxed my jaw while he guided me further down, mouth watering when the tip met the back of my throat. I tried to pull off but his hand tightened. Gagging as his cock surged down my throat, I instinctively swallowed and heard him moan. I couldn't breathe. My eyes watered. He kept pushing on my head until my nose was pressed to his skin, and I felt him thrust his hips.

"Fucking slut," he gasped, guiding my head up a bit. "You were made to swallow cock."

I choked, fingers digging into his thighs, and gasped for breath as soon as he lifted me off his cock. An instant later he was pulling me back down, hips rolling, both hands clutching the back of my head. This time he didn't let me up when I choked, and my chest heaved. I felt weak. Powerless, I squeezed my lips around the base of his cock. Felt it throb on my tongue and in my throat.

He pulled me off. When my hand instinctively moved to stroke his slick cock he smiled down at me. "That's right, doll. You're such a good slut. Are you wet?"

Still gasping for air, I nodded. I stroked his cock swiftly, tongue swirling over the tip. My other hand joined the first and they worked in tandem while I sucked air into my lungs. As soon as I could breathe normally he was pushing me back down. He stopped halfway and began to thrust his hips upward, loudly fucking my throat. I dropped my hands to his thighs. He began to thrust harder, and when he rose to his feet I let myself be dragged along, gulping then gagging while he forced his cock further down my throat. Then, shockingly, he was dragging me away. I cried out as he pulled harshly on my hair, surprised when he shoved me onto the couch. I wiped my mouth with my hand and shifted onto my back, watching him kneel on the edge of the couch.

"Spread your legs," he ordered.

My heart thudded. My stomach twisted with anxiety.

"I said, spread your legs." He slapped my thigh. "Show me how wet your pussy is."

Holding my breath, I parted my legs. I pulled my knees up and let one hand slide down to cup my pussy. A moan dragged from my throat when I felt how wet I was. I glided my fingers back and forth over my slit, felt them grow wet with my juices.

"Horny little slut," Dean taunted. He shoved my hand away and replaced it with his. Fingers thicker than mine rubbed harder than I had.

Just as he began to circle my clit, I heard a high-pitched digital screech from the kitchen. Eyes widening as I recognized the ringtone, I sat up, squealing as the movement caused Dean's fingers to drag over my clit. "Stop," I gasped, pushing at his arm. "I have to get the phone."

"The phone's more important right now? Really?" He pinched and rolled my clit, eliciting a tiny shriek from me.

"It's Seth," I managed, finally able to twist and slide off the couch. His hand fell away with a muttered curse and I missed his touch while rushing into the kitchen to retrieve my phone. I drew in a deep breath and hoped my voice sounded normal as I answered, "Hey, babe."

"You busy?" Seth asked.

"No… I was in the living room. Left my phone in the kitchen," I explained with a small laugh. I shifted my stance, biting my tongue as I felt pussy juices trickle down my thighs. Looking at the clock, I swallowed hard. It had been over an hour since he left. "How's the workout going?"

"Tore open that old blister on my finger."

"Which means it's going great," I surmised with a small smile. I tucked my arm over my chest and slowly returned to the living room to find my pajama pants. My steps faltered when I saw Dean on the couch. He was sucking the finger that had so recently been playing with my pussy, his other hand stroking his cock. As I looked on, the tip grew wet with precum. "What's up?"

"Just checking in. Dean up yet?"

"Yeah, he's up," I answered, eyes on Dean's cock.

"Did he eat?"

"Not yet. I'll give him something."

"You don't have to wait on him, baby. He can find something to eat."

I just bet he could. "I don't mind. I don't want him destroying anything."

Dean smirked at that, finger sliding out of his mouth. He crooked it at me and I stepped over my discarded pants to join him on the couch. Shaking my head wildly when he motioned for me to lie back, I yelped as he gave my shoulder a push and caused me to go back. I scrambled up on my elbow, my grip on the phone tightening.

"You alright?" Seth asked.

"Just banged my toe on the coffee table," I assured. I nudged Dean's shoulder with my foot, eyes widening as his hands cupped my knees and spread them.

"Keep talking to him," he whispered against my thigh.

Panicked, I clapped a hand over my mouth and coughed to muffle the moan that bubbled up. His beard dragged along my thigh until I felt his breath on my slit. I could hear Seth speaking but couldn't understand the words. Holding my breath, I waited for his mouth or tongue to make contact. When no contact happened, I opened my eyes.

"Talk," he whispered, draping one arm across my hips to hold me still.

"What'd you say?" I asked into the phone, hoping my voice didn't sound as strange to my boyfriend as it did to me.

"I was asking what movie you wanted to go see."

I tensed as lips brushed my slit. I released a shaky breath, digging my heel into the back of the couch. I couldn't make any noise. If I did, Seth would ask what the hell I was doing. And I could hardly tell him what was truly going on. "Oh. Um… Oh, god…"

Dean's tongue probed my slit, arm tightening when I squirmed.

"Baby?" Seth chuckled. "You sure you're not busy?"

"I'm positive," I promised. Above the blood rushing through my ears I could hear Dean's tongue working along my slit. It avoided my clit each time it swept up, and dipped into my entrance with each downward stroke. My clit throbbed, aching to be touched, and I tilted my head back, attempting to squirm my hips. "And, movie? You choose. We can see the Pixar one if you want?"

Dean shook his head. Whether to disagree with my suggestion or sent tremors through me, I wasn't sure. I bit down hard on my lip, feeling my pussy get wetter and wetter with each swipe of his tongue.

"Ask Dean if he wants to come."

"Hang on, I have to find him. I have to set my phone down because it's charging," I babbled, pulling the phone from my ear. I hastily tapped the mute button, having the foresight to make sure it turned on before gasping. "H-he wants to know if you want to come to a movie with us," I managed, straining to lift my hips.

"Mmhmm," he moaned, nodding once. When I whined, his tongue slowed, stopping just beneath my clit. I released a soft cry and lifted my head to find him looking up. "What?"

"My clit," I whispered, still straining against his hold. "Please…"

He chuckled and spread me with his fingers. The heavy arm over my hips stretched upward and he squeezed my breast. "What about it, doll?"

"Suck it. Lick it. Touch it. Please," I begged.

"Tell him yes, I want to come to the movies. Then tell him you're giving me something to eat."

"Dean—" I cut off with a moan as the bastard finally brought his tongue to my clit. Sitting up, I mourned the loss of his shaggy curls as my fingers attempted to grasp his close-cropped hair. To my outrage, his tongue drew back and he pressed his lips to my thigh.

"Tell him. I'm not gonna let you cum until you do."

I scrambled for my phone, which had fallen between the cushions. Fishing it out, I exhaled a whine and tapped the mute button before bringing it to my ear again. "He said yes. And I'm about to fix his breakfast."

"Okay… Are you fixing him something good?"

There was something so erotic about my boyfriend's innocent inquiry. "Mm-hmm," I moaned, holding my breath while Dean's tongue returned to my slit. "Don't worry, I'll give him something great to eat."

"You've always got something great to eat," Seth murmured low. His words, coupled with the tongue flickering over my clit, caused me to shudder. "But I doubt you want him eating that, do you?"

"Fuck no," I blurted, pleasure washing away the brief feeling of shame. The tongue on my clit began moving faster. The hand on my breast slid up to my throat and with a nudge I was forced to lie down again. Dean pushed on my thigh until I lifted my knee to my chest, moaning against my clit when I began rolling my hips. His hand cupped my ass, squeezing, and my glimpse of ecstasy nearly drowned out Seth's next words.

"Yeah, save that for me, baby."

"Always," I whispered, grinding my hips against Dean's mouth. The hand at my throat squeezed. His tongue danced like wildfire on my clit.

"I'll let you go. See you in a little bit."

"I'll be here." The hand clutching the phone dropped. I heard it clatter to the floor an instant before Dean rammed two fingers into me. Held down by the hand cupping my throat, I arched, my shriek filling the room.

He moaned repeatedly, lapping at my clit, occasionally scraping it with his teeth. His fingers pushed in deep and curved. The roughness dragged another shriek out of me, and another when they curved and began massaging my spot. He moaned with approval and held his fingertips there, pumping rapidly.

"Dean," I gasped. Writhing, I held onto his forearm like a lifeline. I could feel his fingers squeezing my throat. Felt my pulse pounding against his thumb. Sucking in a breath, I held it, reveling in the glorious sensations. And the sounds. His moans, muffled against my clit. The squish of his fingers working in my pussy. The clap of his palm on my slit. He moaned louder, drawing it out while he increased the speed of his tongue. I clutched at his arm, shaking, my breath leaving my lungs in a lengthy cry as pure ecstasy crashed into me.

My foot, resting on his shoulder, shot out, my thighs squeezing around his head while I came vigorously. Quaking, screaming, I was aware only of the intense pleasure. His tongue remained constant. My body gave an overwhelming shudder and, panting, I held onto him.

I sensed fingers slide out. He squeezed my throat again and let go. He pulled one of my legs off his shoulder and tilted his head. Above my racing heartbeat and uneven gasps I heard his tongue slurping. He moaned yet again, the vibration sending me into another series of shudders and whimpers. He pressed his forehead to my thigh and stayed there during the eternity it seemed to take for my breathing to return to normal.

Then, abruptly, he was pushing away. Blinking slowly, I watched him stand, my sluggish legs dropping to the couch. I glimpsed his straining cock then he was bending. A second later my phone landed heavily on my stomach. I winced, still shivering, and dragged my tongue over my dry lips. "Dean," I whispered, struggling to move. My bones felt like jelly and I managed a half-slumped position. I was baffled even further when my pajama pants landed on my chest. I blinked again, twisting my head to see him yanking his shorts up over his cock. "Dean, what are you—"

"You want him to walk in on me fucking you?" he asked, his voice a low rasp.

For a split second I wondered who 'him' was. Immediately registering, I picked up my phone with trembling hands to check the time. "Oh my god," I whispered, body going weak with horror when a text from Seth flashed on the screen. He was leaving the gym. "Oh my god…"

"How long does it take him to get home?" Dean asked. His hand clamped down on my arm and he dragged me to my feet.

"About fifteen minutes—" My knees buckled and he caught me against him. I opened my mouth to tell him we had to hurry, only to squeal when he lifted me up. I dropped my phone onto the couch and grasped his biceps while he guided my weak legs around his waist.

"Long enough," he mumbled, holding me to him with one arm. I felt his hand between us, scrambling, then his cock gliding along my slit.

"Shit," I gasped, eyes widening. "Dean—"

"I need to fucking cum," he growled. He held his dick against my slit, hips rolling slowly. "Work with me, slut."

"Ohmigod," I moaned, tightening my grip on his biceps. I rested my forehead against his. Able to smell myself on his lips, I moaned again and stole a taste.

"You taste so goddamn good," he whispered after I tasted his lips again. His hands gripped my ass, forcing me to move against him. "And the way you screamed my name when you came like the good little slut you are…"

I tried my best to keep up with his demanding guidance. Gasping each time the tip of his cock skimmed over my clit, I felt my pussy grow wetter. His fingernails bit into my ass. Then his lips were against mine, bruising, his tongue plundering my mouth. "Come on, Dean," I encouraged, emboldened by the my taste on his tongue. "I want your cum. Please…"

His nails dug in harder. "Where?"

The growled word caused my pussy to ache. "My mouth," I said. I had an impression of floating and whimpered as my back met the wall. "Cum in my mouth."

"You don't want it in your pussy?" he whispered. His hips faltered and the tip of his cock probed my entrance.

"No!" I squealed, slightly panicked when he reached down. I felt his cock press forward and whimpered. "No, Dean, please! I can't!"

With a growl he pulled his cock away. A second later he was pushing my legs from around his waist. "Knees," he hissed.

I slithered down between him and the wall. Tilting my head back, I had barely parted my lips before he was guiding his dick past them. I could taste myself again and moaned deeply while he glided down my throat. I stared up at him, saw the muscles in his throat working as he braced his hands on the wall.

"Gonna cum," he gasped, pulling back slightly. His cock throbbed on my tongue and with a resonant moan he surged forward.

I grasped the front of his shorts for support as he strained to push his cock in as far as possible. It swelled and throbbed, causing me to choke, and when he drew back a bit I felt blazing hot cum filling my throat. I swallowed instinctively, gripping the base of his cock and squeezing. He pulled back further, then shoved forward with a strained gasp. Swallowing repeatedly, I could feel each thick gush of cum. He began to pull out again and I leaned forward before he could withdraw completely. I stroked and squeezed his cock rapidly. Rewarded with another rush of cum, I hummed delightedly at the taste, making sure to milk out and swallow every drop.

"Jesus… Fuck," he gasped when I released him. When I looked up at him I could see the muscles of his arms straining. He gazed down at me, tongue tracing his lips. "Good little slut."

I smiled, and when he reached down to take my arm I stood. I reached to brush the beads of sweat off his forehead.

He chuckled, a low rumble, then caught my lips in a brief kiss. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"You've got less than ten minutes before he gets here."

"Fuck!" I squawked, pushing him away. My legs were still shaky and I stumbled forward, snatching up my pants from where they'd fallen to the floor. I stepped into them, keenly aware of the taste of Dean's cum lingering on my tongue. After yanking the pants into place I lurched into the kitchen to find my shirt and put it on. Then, running one hand through my hair, I went upstairs as quickly as I could to freshen myself up.

My heart was pounding erratically, but by the time Seth entered the house I was back in the kitchen, cracking eggs into the pan on the stove. I'd given my body a quick wipe with a wet washcloth, spritzed perfume, gargled mouthwash, and brushed my hair into a ponytail before hurrying back down to finish cooking Dean's breakfast.

He greeted me with a kiss, and even though I'd gargled thoroughly I was certain he would be able to tell what else had been in my mouth. But if he did, he gave nothing away, murmuring that he was going to take a quick shower. He passed Dean on his way out of the kitchen and I heard them speak quietly. Both men laughed over something, then Dean strolled into the room. I looked up from the eggs to see a smirk on his face.

"See? He has no idea what a little slut you are," he teased, giving my ass a squeeze before moving to fix a fresh pot of coffee.

***

I spent the rest of the morning as busy as possible. I took a shower, scrubbing his scent away. I did the laundry, even Dean's, waiting by the dryer for each load to finish so I could meticulously fold or put each item on a hanger. I watered the plants. I cleaned out the bathroom cabinet. I reorganized my underwear drawer. I did everything I could to keep my mind off what I had done and to keep away from Dean. It was impossible to avoid him completely, though.

When I took his stack of clean clothes to the guest room just before lunchtime he was just coming out of the bathroom on a wave of steamy, soap-scented air. He smirked when he saw me, one hand holding a towel at his waist.

"Your laundry," I explained unnecessarily, placing the stack on the dresser.

"Thanks, doll." He moved forward, smirk appearing while he reached around me to grab a clean shirt. "Anything else?"

"No." I retreated before I could ask why he was showering in the middle of the day.

A little while later I stepped out onto the back patio to find him and Seth drinking beers and putting food on the grill. They were talking quietly to each other, both smirking, but when I approached they fell silent, though the smirks remained. Thankful I wouldn't be in charge of lunch, I stole a sip of Seth's beer and asked if there was anything I could do.

"Can you throw together one of those pasta salads?" he requested. "Like that one you made a few weeks ago."

"Sure." I took his beer to steal another swig.

"And bring out fresh beers," he called after me.

" Get your own damn beer," I called back with a laugh. I went straight to the fridge and leaned in to get two fresh beers. Hearing footsteps, I held the beers out with one hand so Seth could take them and I could get the ingredients for the pasta salad. "We're out of bacon," I told him, pulling out the other items I would need. I felt a glimmer of guilt when his finger traced circles on my ass. "I'll have to use the fake bacon bits…"

"Fine by me," Dean said.

I backed out, nearly dropping the jars I'd gathered. "Stop that," I hissed, my gaze darting to the window to make sure Seth wasn't on his way in. I could see him near the grill, head bent to look at his phone. "What if he—"

"What if he hadn't texted that he was heading home earlier?" Dean interrupted. Draining his open beer in one gulp, he gave a small sigh of satisfaction and looked into my eyes. "What would he have walked in on?"

I had no clue. And I shuddered to think what his reaction would have been if he'd walked in to find me sucking his friend's dick. Or getting his friend off. Or swallowing his friend's cum. Clutching the jars to my chest, I shook my head. "It can't happen again."

"Of course it can't," he agreed softly. Holding the beers with one hand, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and frowned at the screen.

Relieved that he concurred, I closed the fridge door and carried the jars to the island counter while he fiddled with his phone. I heard his footsteps and my breath caught in my throat when he stepped up behind me. I watched his hand appear, followed its movement as it placed the empty beer bottle down and then as it moved away, biting my lip when it settled at my waist.

"But it will," he whispered.

"No." My voice wavered on the single syllable.

"Yeah, it will," he promised. His fingers stroked just beneath the hem of my tank top. "Want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you want it." He stepped closer. "You want me to make you cum so hard you forget your name again. You want to rub your pussy on my dick. You want me to fuck your throat."

I shook my head. "I can't…"

"Why?" he challenged, gathering my hair and pushing it to the side. His lips brushed the side of my neck.

"I just can't."

"Why?" he asked again, trailing his lips to my shoulder. He nudged the strap of my top aside with his chin, causing me to shiver, and pressed his lips to my neck with a chuckle. "I know why, doll."

"Do you?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he breathed in my ear. "Because you know that next time it happens you won't be satisfied with just rubbing on my dick."

I released my breath in a rush. "Dean…"

"You know it. Slut," he hissed. "Next time you won't stop me from sliding into your tight cunt and fucking you until—"

"Yo, Ambrose!" Seth called from the back door.

I froze, eyes wide with alarm. Dean's lips remained on my neck for what seemed forever, then he lifted his head and stepped away.

"Yeah?"

"When you come back out, grab the sheet pan I left on the table?"

"Sure," Dean hollered back.

I heard the door close and wilted with relief.

As though there hadn't been an interruption, Dean stepped back over to me, lips meeting my shoulder. "Good thing he didn't walk in," he said.

"You think?" I scoffed, finally garnering the strength to slip away from him.

***

I endured lunch. I made my escape and went to the salon for my manicure and pedicure. The usually relaxing pampering session did little to calm my frazzled nerves, though. Even the manicurist commented that I seemed stressed. I mumbled something about working hard, left a generous tip, and left as soon as my nails were dry. As arranged, Seth and Dean met me outside the salon so we could go see a movie. Seated between them, I could barely pay attention to the film, grateful for the theater's darkness when Dean's hand kept straying to my thigh.

After the movie we went to dinner, where I stupidly consumed too much wine. Not completely drunk, I relented when Seth suggested I let Dean drive my car home. Then, because he was going to see his mom for a bit before coming home, I climbed into the car with Dean. I watched him maneuver my little car through the streets. I kept expecting him to touch me, to start up his lurid talking again. But he kept his hands to himself and kept the talking to a minimum, commenting on the meal we'd had and the movie that I hadn't watched. When my hand slid over to rest on his thigh he glanced at me and shook his head. When my fingers danced up to his crotch he caught my hand in his and held it at his thigh for the rest of the drive.

I teetered ahead of him across the garage when we got to the house, my hazy brain certain that he would grope me while he unlocked the door. But he didn't, even when I wriggled against him. He didn't once we got into the house, when I stopped in the doorway and rubbed his chest. Nor when he guided me upstairs, where I leaned back so he would have to hold onto me.

"Dean," I said, pouting as I dropped my purse on my dresser. I turned to face him, surprised to see he had stayed at the doorway. Overly warm, I peeled off my top and licked my lips. "Come on… Let's have a little fun before he gets back."

"Doll," he sighed, shaking his head as I tottered towards him. Catching me when I stumbled, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and guided me back into the room. "You're drunk."

"Not drunk," I insisted, tugging at his t-shirt. "C'mon, Dean… I know you wanna."

"I definitely wanna." He eased my hands away, ignoring my whine of complaint. "But you're drunk. I'm not gonna let you use alcohol so you can say yes to me."

"But I wanna fuck," I whined, not understanding why he was being stubborn. "Please?"

I grunted as he pushed me to sit on the edge of the bed. Watching with growing excitement as he leaned to remove my high-heeled sandals, I swung my hair back over my shoulder. I put too much force in it, though, and fell backward, giggling.

"Dean, Dean, Dean!" I sat up, grabbing at him. "Please… You were right earlier. I want more than just rubbing on your dick. I'm a slut, Dean, I admit it. I want you to fuck me like the slut I am. Please!"

"Goddamnit," he growled, catching me by the shoulders and giving me a shake. "When I fuck you… It's not gonna be because you drank enough wine to admit you want it. You're gonna be sober as hell and begging for it."

"I'm begging for it now," I wailed.

"Beg me when you haven't had wine."

"But Dean… Don't be a stubborn ass. Can't you see that I'm ready?" I pulled at my skirt. Remembering that I wasn't wearing a skirt, I fumbled with the button of my jeans. "Can't you see I want you? I'm ready for you to make my pussy yours—"

"I will," he promised, pressing his lips to my forehead. I felt him tremble and heard his ragged sigh. "When you're sober."

"But—"

"Lie down, doll. I'll bring you a bottle of water."

"I don't want water, I want your dick—"

"Change into something comfortable."

With a huff of annoyance I slid off the bed while he left the room. It took a few tries to unbutton my jeans, and I felt my head swim while I peeled them off my legs. I yanked open a dresser drawer and grabbed the first t-shirt of Seth's I could find. My head reeled again. Maybe I should lie down, I decided, stumbling towards the bed.

Two seconds after my face hit the pillow, I felt the covers being tugged from underneath me. Groaning, I shifted, reaching for Dean when he leaned to pull me to my side of the bed. "Gonna join me?" I invited.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and tucked the covers over me. "Good night, doll."

***

The next morning I awoke feeling as though my head were stuffed with cotton. I groaned as I pressed my face deeper into the pillow, nose wrinkling at the dryness in my mouth. Groping on the nightstand for the bottled water, I slowly boosted myself up so I could take several sips. My body ached. I gulped down more water, spying a bottle of ibuprofen next to the lamp. Smiling at Dean's thoughtfulness, I took two of the pills before dragging myself out of bed. I could hear Seth in the bathroom, taking a shower, and slipped in to rinse my face and brush my teeth.

"Feeling okay?" he greeted while turning off the water.

"Eh," I grunted with a shrug. I watched in the mirror as he stepped out and began toweling off. Recalling how I had begged, pleaded, for Dean to fuck me the night before, I felt a wave of shame and ducked my head to splash cold water over my face. "I feel stuffy. Nothing I can't handle."

"Dean's driving didn't scare you did it?" he asked, tucking the towel around his waist.

"Please. You know he drives like an old woman."

"I'm glad. He was transporting precious cargo."

Another wave of shame. I studied the sink drain while brushing my teeth thoroughly.

"You don't have plans today, do you?" he asked as I rinsed out my mouth.

I shook my head. "Lazy day. Not putting on anything fancier than sweats."

In the mirror, I saw his smile widen. "Perfect."

***

The afternoon sun was sweltering. I had gone outside once, after lunch, to water the wilting flowers that bordered the patio, then retreated inside to revel in the miracle of air conditioning. But despite my declaration that I would have a lazy day, I found myself bored. I was caught up on my favorite TV shows. It was impossible to focus on the book several coworkers had recommended. There was little housework to do. I had already planned my outfits for the next week, and my suitcase was already packed, waiting only for the last-minute items that I wouldn't throw in until we were about to leave. The thought of cooking was repulsive, and I finally caved and ordered pizza to be delivered in the evening.

Finally, I decided that laziness wouldn't do. I was too keyed-up to lounge on the couch searching for something to watch. I made my way to the game room, which had originally been a spare room. It had become Seth's man cave of sorts, where he had some of the sports memorabilia he'd collected displayed. He and Dean were in there. My boyfriend was enraptured with the game he was playing, and Dean was sprawled on the other end of the couch, flicking through a stack of game cases. I stepped over his outstretched legs and plopped next to Seth, watching the action onscreen. I didn't recognize the game but didn't ask the name of it, my knowledge of video games beyond Mario embarrassingly lacking. Waiting until his character had slashed through a horde of zombies, I leaned to press a kiss to his cheek.

Unfortunately, he was little help in relieving my boredom. Not that I had gone to him to do so. He made a few suggestions but nothing sparked my interest. Dean threw out a few suggestions as well, but I shot them down too, covertly swatting his hand away from my other thigh. After waiting for Seth to claw his way through another horde, I kissed him and said I was going upstairs for a nap.

Once I was lying down, though, I couldn't go to sleep. I stayed there, stubborn, for a long time, finally giving up. The pool, I decided, shedding my sweat pants and tank top. I'd go for a dip in the pool.

Moments later I was approaching the pool with anticipation. It was so hot out that I was sweating before I got across the lawn. Dropping my towel, suntan lotion, and phone into a chair, I kicked of my sandals and jumped into the cool water.

The laps I swam were invigorating. I was able to forget about my irritating desire for Dean, and even about his stimulating presence in the house. When I climbed out and reached for my towel, though, he was stretched out in the next chair, skin gleaming in the sunlight.

I toweled off, regretting that I'd put on a skimpy bikini when I felt his hungry eyes roving over my body. Squeezing water from my hair, I gathered it up in a bun, noting that he'd moved my phone and suntan lotion to the low table. An open bottle of beer was there, too. And, I saw with a smile, a sweating bottle of water. Following my gaze, he picked up the water and unscrewed the cap, handing it over as I settled in the chair next to him.

"Thanks," I whispered after taking a sip. It was still cold, and I felt the weight of ice in the bottle. Realizing he'd taken it from the freezer, I smiled again. "What brings you out here?"

"Video games are alright, but it's boring as fuck watching someone play a game you've never heard of." He picked up his beer and took a swig.

"True," I murmured.

"And when I went into the kitchen for a beer I remembered you were out here. You're a lot more interesting to watch, doll."

"You came out here to watch me?"

"I'm so glad I did." He took another swig and sighed. "Never seen you in that itty-bitty bikini before."

"I just got it a couple weeks ago," I explained, wondering why I felt the need to justify his never seeing it on me. Settling back, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to enjoy the heat of the sun. The question that had been burning in my mind came to the forefront. I sighed. Keeping my eyes closed, I decided it was a good time to ask. "Last night…"

"What about it?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

I groaned. I opened my eyes. Squinting, I shielded them with one and looked toward him. "I wanted you."

"Nah," he drawled, lifting his beer for a swig. "You wanted dick. It didn't matter whose. You just wanted to get fucked."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"You were drunk."

"I wouldn't think that would have stopped you," I murmured.

"I don't fuck drunk chicks." He sat up, his bulky frame shielding her from the sun. "It's disrespectful and too much like rape."

"Wait." I released a humorless laugh and sat up. "You're telling me that sex with a drunk woman is disrespectful, but trying to bang your friend's girlfriend is perfectly acceptable?"

He smirked. Tipping the bottle up, he drained the contents slowly. I watched the muscles of his throat work and followed the movement of the bottle as he set it next to the chair. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. And, I'm saying what I said last night: When I fuck you, I want to be you saying yes, not alcohol."

"I can't believe your twisted morals." I shook my head and reached for my suntan lotion.

"And" he went on, taking the bottle from me and standing, "I need you sober while I'm fucking you for another reason."

"Which is?" Glancing towards the house, I remembered Seth was immersed in a game. Nothing short of a power cut or house fire would drag him away. I relaxed slightly and laid back.

"It's simple. I want you to remember every detail." Dean straddled my chair and squeezed lotion onto my stomach. He was meticulous in spreading it, smoothing it into my skin. He massaged it into my legs, making sure ever inch of bare skin was covered before scooting forward to apply the lotion to my arms. By the time his fingers began spreading it over my chest I was overheated and near breathless.

I didn't protest when he tugged my bikini top aside to expose my breasts. Nor when he used both hands to coat them with the oily lotion. He paid special attention to my nipples, caressing and rolling them until I was biting back moans.

Slippery fingers untied the string at my neck. A steady hand slipped beneath me to untie the string at my back then dragged the bikini top away. When he motioned for me to turn over I did so, assisted by his hands. Again he worked meticulously and efficiently, coating my shoulders and back. The whole time I was aware of his cock against my ass.

His fingers toyed with the bikini's strings at my hips. I felt his cock push tighter against my ass and wiggled. His cock twitched and he moaned.

"Want me to fuck you out here where your neighbors can see?" he growled, pushing down on my hips. "Because I will."

I shook my head, exhaling shakily as he slid back. I had forgotten the neighbors. Not that they could see much over the fence around the yard, unless they were on their second floors peering out. Still, I had to be careful. If the wrong neighbor saw, Seth would find out. And that was the last thing I wanted. "Dean," I said, looking back at him before he could squeeze lotion on my ass.

He nodded after a moment, leaning to place the bottle of lotion on the table. "I understand, doll."

"Thank you," I whispered, touched by the show of decorum. I missed his touch once he climbed off the chair. Two seconds later I heard the splash of him jumping into the pool.

***

After dinner, Dean disappeared upstairs. I put away the leftover pizza and wiped off the table while Seth put the empty water bottles in the recycling bin. About to suggest we find a mind-numbing movie to watch, I looked up from rinsing my hands when his phone began to ring.

A minute later he was telling me that his friend Marc from the gym had an extra ticket to a show that started in an hour. He named the band, one of the many indie bands he followed, and before he could ask I was telling him to go. I'd be fine. I didn't mind being left alone.

Of course, I wasn't alone. Dean was in the house.

I followed Seth upstairs and watched him get ready in record time. He apologized for abandoning me. Assured him that I didn't mind. Promising between kisses that he'd bring me a band shirt, he hugged me. He left the bedroom and I heard him talking to Dean for a few seconds. Standing next to the bed, I heard his car backing out of the drive. Then the gentle clang of the garage door closing.

He would be gone for hours. The thought kept repeating itself as I filled the tub with steaming water and bubbles. I undressed, climbed in, and settled back with a sigh.

He would be gone for hours. After a long soak I drained the water and took a shower to rinse the bubbles away and wash my hair. I dried off. Wrapped my hair in a towel.

He would be gone for hours. I rubbed lotion into my arms and legs. Dabbed perfume in the usual places. I unwrapped my hair and combed it. I dried it, brushed it until it shone.

I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. My gaze slid to the unmade bed.

He would be gone for hours.

I left the bedroom. My steps slowed as I approached the guest room. It was empty. I boldly stepped inside and peered through the open bathroom door. Empty. I returned to the hall, chewing my bottom lip. With a sigh I returned to the bedroom and retrieved my phone. Hesitating, I finally stepped into the hall again. I was surprised, but not really, when I got to the stairs and found Dean coming up.

I backed up, eyes never leaving his. He closed the space between us with easy, long strides. My heart pounded in my chest as he grew closer, and I was appalled by the whimper of longing that escaped me. I continued walking backwards until I was stopped by the wall. Looking up at him, I saw his eyebrows lift in question.

Was I really going to do this? Was I really about to cheat on my boyfriend? Because I knew Dean was right. I wouldn't be satisfied with just fooling around. My body craved more. It still wasn't too late. I could push away and hide in my bedroom until Seth got home. I could tell Dean to go fuck himself. I could stop this before it went any further, before I potentially threw away the best relationship I had ever been in.

"What do you want, doll?" he asked softly.

I couldn't form the words. Silent, I looked down and reached for his belt buckle. He would know what my answer was. I was sure of it. Exhaling slowly, I licked my lips and unbuckled his belt. I was just getting my fingers to the button of his jeans when his hand clamped around my wrist.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided, pushing my arm above my head and holding it to the wall. "Tell me."

"Dean…" My other hand reached for his jeans. In a flash, that arm was pinned above my head as well.

"Say the words," he demanded.

"You already know."

"I need to hear them." Holding my arms up with one hand, he used the other to cup my chin and tilt my head back so I looked at him. "I know. But you need to say the words."

"I want you," I whispered. Swallowing hard when his fingers tightened on my chin, I strained against the hold on my wrists.

"Louder."

"I want you," I mumbled.

"I still can't hear you, doll."

"I want you!" I burst out, gasping when his fingers released my chin and cupped my throat. Seeing the gleam in his blue eyes, I felt a surge of lust.

"What do you want me to do? Huh?" He gently squeezed my throat. "You want me to eat your pussy? Finger you? Fuck your throat?"

"Yes," I hissed. "And more."

"What else? Say the words," he whispered, leaning to nip at my bottom lip. "Just tell me."

"Fuck me," I requested. He leaned closer, sucking and nibbling my lip until I was trembling. My nipples were hard. My pussy ached. "Please, Dean," I whispered an instant before his lips covered mine in a ravenous kiss. It left me breathless and weak-kneed. "Please. I want you to fuck me."

"Right here?" he teased, releasing my throat. He dragged his hand down to my chest, yanking the material of my tank top with his fingers. Jiggling my breasts, he moaned. "Answer me, slut, before I fuck you through this wall—"

"In the bed," I blurted. My wrists were let go and I grabbed hold of his shoulders as he dragged me away from the wall. I managed to lift my legs and tuck them around his waist while he moved. Moaning at the feel of his hard cock through his jeans, I held on as he carried me down the hall. I was vaguely aware of entering the guest room, but he commanded my attention with another sultry kiss.

He broke my hold on him and dropped me on the bed. Standing over me, he licked his lips and removed his t-shirt. I reached out to touch him but he pushed my hands away, tormenting me by dragging his own hand down his torso. He eased the belt out of his jeans slowly and I held my breath, able to hear the whisper of leather against denim. The buckle jangled as the belt hit the floor, but my eyes were glued to his large hands, which flicked open the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper with painstaking slowness.

My breath caught when he parted the fly and I saw his cock straining against his boxer briefs. He hooked one thumb in the waistband and pushed them down, slowly freeing his dick. If possible, it looked thicker and harder than it had the last time I'd seen it. I unconsciously licked my lips.

"It's not gonna suck itself," he growled.

I knelt on the bed and leaned forward. Lips parting, I moaned as soon as they were wrapped around the tip of his cock. I sucked slowly, taking more of him little by little, until his cock easily glided in and out of my mouth.

"That's right," he encouraged, one hand resting at the back of my head. He guided me further down, hissing when he hit the back of my throat. "Take it all, slut."

I gripped the waistband of his boxer briefs for support as I relaxed my jaw. As his dick slid down my throat I looked up at him, choking in surprise when I saw his phone in his hand. I tried to pull away but his hand tightened.

"Just a little something to remember you by," he whispered. He held me still while thrusting his hips forward. Despite my horror and shock I forced myself to relax, an involuntary moan rumbling up my throat. "Good girl," he whispered, tilting the phone. "You're such a good little slut…"

"Mmm," I moaned loudly, forgetting his phone as I lost myself in the taste and feel of him. I closed my eyes, gagging around his dick when he urged me all the way down. He hissed as I swallowed repeatedly, then suddenly dragged me off.

"Off," he ordered, tugging at the hem of my tank top.

I peeled it off, watching him push his jeans and boxer briefs down. Lying back, I lifted my hips and slowly pushed my shorts down. I watched him prop the phone up on the nightstand as I tossed the shorts away, and realized he intended on videoing everything. I was already too far gone to care, though. I waited while he bent and picked up my phone from where I'd dropped it on the floor, placed it on the nightstand, then turned to me. His gaze had me growing warm and without meaning to I spread my legs.

He smirked, hands grasping my ankles. Easily dragging me to him until my hips were at the edge of the bed, he looked down. His tongue dragged over his lips. "Horny little thing, aren't you?"

I nodded. Sucking in a breath when his fingers traced my slit, I lifted one foot to his chest. Keeping my voice soft, I said his name. Waiting for him was killing me. I was about to sit up when he leaned over me, lips meeting mine in a fervent kiss. He rolled me,  

 "C'mon." His hands slid to my hips and tugged.

I scooted forward, lifting onto my knees when he tugged again. "What?"

"Sit on my face."

"Yeah?" I licked my lips at the idea.

"Get your cute ass up here and let me taste you," he grunted, lightly swatting my ass.

I didn't have to be told again. Bracing my hands on the headboard, I knelt over him, shivering at the feel of his breath on my slit. At the first touch of his mouth I moaned. He kissed my pussy noisily, nose nudging my clit. I dropped one hand to his head.

He dragged his lips along my slit. Then his tongue dragged down, probing between the slick folds. He slurped, moaned again. I trembled, whining when his head tilted and his tongue slid away as his elbows hooked over my hips. One thumb began to slowly rub my clit. His tongue returned to my slit, nudging and seeking. I squealed when he sucked at my entrance. Tilting my hips, I reveled in the sensation of his deep moan reverberating through me.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped, fingers sliding through his hair, searching for enough to hold onto. His thumb began to move rapidly over my clit while he thumb fucked me. My thighs shook. His tongue felt thicker and longer than it had when he'd kissed me. Every few strokes he pulled out and licked me, arms tightening when I began to squirm. Then he resumed tonguing me, repeating the actions until my pussy was dripping. The pressure inside me swelled.

I held on to his head, releasing a desperate shriek when a finger joined his tongue. They worked in tandem, the finger reaching further, hooking and pushing while his tongue fluttered. My head fell forward and my body rolled. Eyes locking with his, I couldn't look away, even when pinpricks of light danced in the corners of my eyes. Another finger joined the first one, curving and pushing deep, then his mouth and tongue were over my clit, somehow managing to suck and lick at the same time. His fingers were ceaseless, almost brutal, and when they massaged my spot I screamed. He moaned against my clit, pushed his fingers hard against the spot. Mouth and fingers following when I began to writhe, he moaned steadily, a constant vibration against my clit as the pads of his fingers pressed my spot tighter.

"Fuck, Dean!" I shrieked. My thighs squeezed together, my lungs ceased functioning. I went rigid. I was aware of his fingers pulling out as I came. Felt the rush of fluid. Trembling, I felt myself starting to fall but he held me up, tongue lapping at my pussy. I struggled to breathe, hips twitching, pussy clenching. Another scream wrenched from me when his mouth returned to my clit. He sucked hard while my body heaved. He continued sucking as I squealed, and was still sucking when I tried to push away. Breath rushed into my lungs once he released my clit, and I would have slid away had his hands not grabbed my hips.

"Need you on my dick," he growled. There was no gentleness as he pushed me down his body. I whimpered, still reeling, as he released one hip long enough to guide his cock to my slit. He pulled my down while lifting his hips.

I cried out his name, the syllable ending on a ragged squeal as he filled me. I was still having trouble breathing. I could barely move. I couldn't hold myself up. I wouldn't be able to ride him. "Oh my god," I gasped as he held me still so he could fuck me from beneath. "Dean, I'm—"

"Do it," he encouraged, fingers slipping over my hips. "Cum on my dick."

"I can't," I gasped, eyes filling with tears. How could expect me to cum again so soon? I was still adjusting to the feel of his cock inside me. And the speed of his hips. My hands were shaky as I slid them to rest on his chest.

"Cum on my dick," he insisted.

"Dean—"

"I'll fuck you 'til you do," he whispered. In the blink of an eye I was on my back. He guided my legs up, hands holding my knees at his hips. His hips moved steadily, fucking me hard and deep and swiftly. He leaned forward, smirking when she gasped. "You gonna cum again?"

"Almost," I murmured with surprise, eyes widening when he straightened. The angle of his hips sent him deeper and my back arched. "Ah, fuck…"

"This is what you needed, wasn't it, slut?" His voice was low. "Someone to throw you down and fuck you good? A real fuck, right? You're gonna cum again already. Oh yeah," he moaned as my hips began to jerk. "My dick that good?"

"Yes," I whimpered, clawing at the sheets. I did my best to meet his brutal thrusts, crying out when he began thrusting harder. It was raw and primal, the way I thrashed beneath him as I came. He didn't falter, maintaining the wild rhythm while I screamed and my pussy throbbed.

As soon as I slumped his thrusts began to slow. His palms stung my thighs. His fingers raked over the burning flesh then dug in, holding my hips off the bed. I couldn't move. Could barely breathe. Sobbing each time his cock slammed into me, I knew I wouldn't be able to cum again. He pulled out and in the split second my hips were still up I felt my pussy gush.

Thighs shaking, I attempted to lie flat so I could have a brief respite. But he was already lifting me to him.  He hooked his arms under my shaking thighs and I watched him lower his head while he slowly entered me again. As soon as his cock was fully inside he resumed his rapid, deep thrusts. I moaned, watching one hand reach out to grab his phone. A whimper of protest eased up my throat when he stopped suddenly and pulled out. I was surprised by his ability to handle his phone while teasing my slit with his cock. "Dean…"

"Shh." He entered me slowly and I felt a tremor flow through me when I saw his eyes close briefly. He pulled out and entered me again just as slowly, tossing his phone aside with a growl. I arched to meet his drawn-out thrusts and was rewarded with a throaty gasp. "Good girl," he moaned, guiding my legs over his shoulders as he leaned forward. "Work that pussy for me."

My hands circled his wrists and held on. Somehow the slower thrusts seemed more erotic. They were still deep. Still brutal. But there was something about the unhurried glide that had me shivering.

"Cum for me," he urged.

"I don't think—" I cut off with a gasp when he pushed deeper and strained.

"Don't fuckin' think," he whispered. "Just focus on how good my dick feels."

I moaned, eyes drifting closed.

"Focus on me filling you up." He punctuated the statement with deep thrust. "Feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I enthused, whining. "So good, Dean!"

"I need to cum," he ground out. He shook my hands from his wrists and in an instant had my arms stretched above my head. "Cum for me, doll."

"Dean…"

"Don't worry, I'll fuck you again." Holding my wrists with one hand, he skimmed the other down my body. Steady fingers danced over my hip then slid directly to my clit. "C'mon," he whispered, hips moving faster while his fingertips teased my clit. "Cum for me again, slut."

I surged beneath him. He rubbed harder at my clit and I felt his cock swell when my pussy clenched. "Oh fuck," I moaned, hips bucking. "I'm—"

"Come on," he growled, and I felt him growing tense.

"Dean," I cried.

"I need to cum. Oh fuck, let me cum…"

Despite their being pinned between our bodies, my legs extended. I felt my pussy throb as an unholy shriek escaped me. Aware of his dick throbbing, I sucked in a breath, crying out when it slipped out of me. He pushed back into me, riding out the waves of my body. Pinned beneath him, I rocked. Heard his strained shout as pure heat filled me.

"Oh shit," he gasped, cock still throbbing. He slammed deeper, hips straining against mine. The fingers on my clit slid away and clutched at my side. I felt each rush of scorching cum, filling me, as his body shook.

I could do little but lie beneath him, whining, able to feel another surge of cum just before his cock slid out. The tip glided up to my clit, cum trickling. He dragged it along my slit then glided into my pussy again. He pushed into me as deeply as possible, then further, coaxing another scream from me. He swelled and throbbed again.

"Fuck," he panted, hands falling to the rumpled sheets. His forehead, beaded with perspiration, fell against mine. He eased his arms from beneath my legs and released a low moan. "Fuck, doll…"

"I know," I breathed, hissing when he eased his cock out of me. Licking my dry lips, I shivered at the sensation of his cum oozing from my pussy.

"Let me see," he whispered, pushing himself upright. He rested his palms on my thighs and guided them further apart.

I was reaching down to spread myself for his inspection when my phone began to ring. Jarred back to reality, I froze. Pure ice filled my veins while the ringtone I'd set for Seth screeched from the nightstand. Horrified, I attempted to close my legs and only succeeded in folding them around Dean's waist. I whimpered and pushed at his abdomen with one hand when he didn't move. "Dean—"

"You gonna get that?" He asked so casually. As though we hadn't just fucked.

I couldn't. Guilt and shame washed over me. If I answered, I'd spill out the truth at the first sound of my boyfriend's voice. I knew I would. I shook my head once, eyes widening in horror when he leaned forward. "Dean, don't—" I clapped a hand over my mouth as he picked up my phone.

"Hey man," he greeted, holding the phone to his ear.

I felt all the blood drain from face. Body numb, I could only stare at him. He idly stroked my thigh, grinning. I slid my hand from my mouth, shaking my head.

"She can't talk right now, man." He chuckled, leering at me. "Yeah, that's right. Mission accomplished."

"What the fuck, Dean?!" I blurted.

"She's all yours, you filthy bastard. Oh yeah," he said, easily swatting my hand away when I reached to yank the phone from his grasp. "Pussy destroyed."

"Dean!" I yelped, heart pounding erratically in my chest. He ended the call and tossed the phone next to me. "What the fuck did you do?!"

Then, from the hall, I heard a familiar laugh.

Dean waggled his eyebrows and leaned down, lips brushing mine before he rolled away. Weak with fear and guilt, I sat up, crossing my arms over my chest as a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Seth," I breathed. I looked from him to Dean, who was lying next to me, appearing to have not one care in the world. Gaze sliding back to Seth, I swallowed anxiously. "Seth…"

He was smirking. Shaking his head, he leaned in the doorway. "Having fun, baby?"

"She was," Dean commented. He slapped my thigh then slid away. Out the corner of my eye I saw him get to his feet and walk into the bathroom.

"I can explain," I promised, although I had no idea how the fuck I would do that. I jerked at the sheet so I could cover myself, but his next words made me pause.

"No need to."

"What?" Confused, I stared at him. At his knowing smirk. Dean's earlier words rushed back – mission accomplished – and I whipped to look at the bathroom door just as he stepped out, nonchalantly wiping his crotch with a towel. "What?" I squeaked, looking to Seth again. He was grinning now. "What?"

"Come on, baby, I've known you were wet for him for ages," Seth said, still grinning. He stepped into the room and surveyed the scene.

"You set me up?" I gasped. I scrambled off the bed, yanking the sheet with me and wrapping it around my trembling body.

"Wasn't much of a set up," he explained, approaching me. I took a step back while he picked up the corner of the sheet. He straightened and tucked it in, fingers lightly stroking my jaw.

I reared back, horrified. "You set me up," I repeated. "Why?"

"Because I knew you wanted him." He gestured towards Dean. "And any fool could see he wanted you."

"You fucking asshole," I gasped.

"Please," he scoffed. His kiss was unexpected. Gentle at first, and when I didn't pull away he tilted his lips over mine with a soft moan. "You liked it."

"But…" I was still confused. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Because I could," he whispered before kissing me again.

"Seth," I whined when I could speak again. "Aren't you mad?"

"Hell no. I thought you'd cave long before now. We've been trying for weeks to get this to happen. Him coming to stay a few days was his idea."

My brow furrowed. "Then his house didn't need fumigated?"

I felt stupid when he laughed. "No, baby, I didn't."

"You… You're okay that this happened. You arranged it. You—" I leaned back, struggling to organize my confused thoughts. "You didn't go to a show? Where did you go?"

"Down the block. He texted me to let me know it was happening." He exhaled, one arm dragging me close. "Just when I got back to the house I got a picture."

"Of?" I whispered, already knowing at which point Dean had been messing with his phone.

"You sucking his dick," he murmured. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

I didn't know how to reply to that so I stayed silent, grateful when he kissed me again.

"Then I stood in the hall and listened. I heard him getting you off over and over…" He tugged me even closer. "He made you cum a lot, didn't he?"

I nodded dumbly. I tentatively rested my hands on his chest, biting my lip when I felt his cock pressing into my hip. "You… And this turned you on?"

"You know it," he whispered. "And you loved every minute of it, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," I blurted. "He turns me on just eating ice cream."

I heard a clink and looked away from Seth's smirking face to see Dean leaning in the doorway. I hadn't realized he had left the room, but he was now back, bowl of ice cream in one hand and spoon in the other.

"Come on," Seth whispered in my ear, guiding me to the door.

I was still in a daze. "Where?"

Dean chuckled around a spoonful of ice cream. Stepping aside so Seth could lead me out, he gave me a grin. "He's gonna fuck you, doll."

"Dean," I groaned, dragging a hand over my face.

"Oh, when you get your hand to her pussy? And feel how wet she is?" Dean smirked and dipped his spoon into the ice cream again. "That's my cum. You're welcome."

"Dean!"

"Yeah, that's what you were just screaming," he reminded, slapping my ass before I fully exited the room. "Now go with him so he can remind you who really owns that pussy."

#dean ambrose #seth rollins #dean ambrose smut #seth rollins smut #wwe #wwe imagine #dean ambrose imagine #seth rollins imagine #guys i worked so hard on this #also major kudos to anyone who reads this in onesitting #please let me know if you manage to do that #I'll send you cookies

[marcellaisnotme]

to everyone.

to all the amazing people that light up my 2019, let's continue our journey to 2020. 2019 has been pretty amazing to me than last year and i'm rather excited for what's going to come on 2020. its a bit frightening but at the same time i'm ready to face it.

i'm dedicating each of you who got this page a personal message <3

let me start it with my loving Ren ♡ we met not that long ago but long enough for me to call you a special friend. i love hanging out with you, i love ranting everything to you cause you're a really good listener, advisor and most importantly a really great sidekick. okno. you know what to say to make me feel better and i admire that you can think of so much in a short amount of time. the way you handle everything is very responsible and careful, i look up to you alot. let's be more closer and share more stupid shitposts (RED VELVET PLSSS). i love you!!

Jason ♡ we known each other for a very long time but we always been pretty close to each other, but sometimes we don't talk and we argue that one time. and you went missing too but when you came back i was really excited. you were really funny and entertaining. just what i need, just what i wanted. we have a love hate relationship and we never get tired of each other and buuuu-ing each other everytime. okno. you are special to me and i cant find another jason to replace. thanks for being such a great friend. i love you!!

Juan ♡ my favorite movie partner and cuddle buddy <3 the one that would always tell stupid jokes which myself find it really funny even when it's pretty dumb. the one who never get tired of me punching you in the arm. okno. i wanna spend more time watching movies with you cause i personally hate watching movies cause i'm a book person. but when i watch it with you and hear you explaining to me everything made me love movies. pstt. only when i watch it with you <3 HAHAHA let's do more movie dates next time juan, because movies are not watch worthy without you. okno. i love you!!!

bwi ♡ as much as i find you pretty annoying and such a coward but i really know how it takes courage to do something. i know how does it feel when you feel like doing something. but it's find. i dont judge you for it ok? i was just messing around with you cause your reaction is always funny i dont wanna miss it. OKNO. if you havent moved on completely, it's fine. it takes time to heal and takes time to grow. i hope you have a better life and be happy in 2020. i love you!!

Belle ♡ SINCE YOU'RE A GIRL NOW IMMA CALL YOU BELLE. okno you were a guy when we first met and first dated. okno. i can't believe we made it till today even when we dont talk that much these days. i just want you to know even when i'm very very very annoying and stoopid but i am really thankful that you were always there listening to my probs and teas :(( i'm so dramatic. wipes non existent tears. okno. be less busy so that i can kacau you more :(( i love you!!

Kitty Kou ♡ my wife :(( my husband soulmate boyfriend girlfriend my everything :(( screams i miss you so much we're not talking much this days are you THAT busy gimme attention bich :(( okno. i'm glad that you are fine now (i can see and feel it) also i dont want you to be sad no more cause you dont deserve to be :(( i'll karate anyone that tries to mess with you i swear >:( i love you soooo much you're my fav bestie ever you listen to me and play along with me cause thats what soulmates do :(( dont ever leave my side or i'm gonna tie u to me so that you wont escape HAH take that :(( i love you bb♡

Qhal ♡ you stick up to me since day-1 and thats what i love about you. you grew into a better person, you were so much braver and bolder plus happier these days and i've never been so proud of you. i hope your happiness last till next year and the following and forever. every day is a new day. you dont have to close old books and open new ones. you dont have to be someone you're not and importantly, you dont have to do things for anyone else. yourself is your top priority and always remember that you're just as important. seeing you happy makes me happy. we've been friends for god knows how long and you never left my side, ever. you're always a special friend to me. you're always in my heart. i love you!!

Irwin ♡ not gonna deny you're always there for me when i'm in an existential crisis. okno. you're such a fun and funny person to talk with. i always enjoyed talking to you because you could make and awkward situation lively with your randomness. you radiate great and positive energy that anyone around you feel better. you make me feel better when i'm sad. i hope you and jade last looooooooooong enough just like how long we've known each other. i love you!!

Tian ♡ i love talking to you and randomly being stupid with you and jason. i love how we click with each other that much it's like we're siblings. rough things happened but let's all forget about it. i hope for you happiness as you were always sad about a certain someone. it's fine to think about it. it's fine to hold onto it. cause the longer you hold on, the easier it will go away when it gets old. you should really reveal your cute daughter to everyone. cause i miss her and everyone needs to see her <3 she's amazing just like you. i love you!!

Cosmo ♡ as long as we known each other, you were the brightest person and the easiest to get along with. you always know what to do and put your heart in everything you do. i dont like seeing you being sad or depressed anymore because you weren't like that when we first met. always surround yourself with happy stuff >> me. and do things you wanna do that makes you happy. you will always be my cosmo, and i'll always be your wanda♡. i love you!!

Junguan ♡ hi bestie how u doin. okno. i am glad that you're always happy, always problem free. thanks for listening to my problems, thanks for being a great friend. i have a great laugh and a great time with you always. your reaction to my stupidness and sarcasm was always funny i'm not gonna lie. you're always the one that i believe would keep everything i tell you a secret. you're such an awesome person and a great friend. i love you !!

Xie/ Axel ♡ you're a really interesting person to talk to. aside from our past relationship. you're a really strong and a great person. you're someone that doesn't give up on anything you do and i really adore you for that. you make everything seem so funny to me idk why oKNO. but except for our snapstreak, we dont really talk mUCH. did you moveD or are you just busY cause u krik krik im thinking twice about softblocking you. okno. talk to me bitch. i love you!!

marcell/shaq ♡ you change your name to match mine cause you like me eh?? buuu. okno. you were always someone i trusted because you're responsible of doing your job and you're someone nice to talk to i mean not nice nice because you're mean but nice by i can have a conversation with you and talk about random stuff without letting it die because i'm funny and you're lame okno. let other judge your outer and let yourself know your inner. jangan jadi noob for 2020. okno. i love you!!

Eric ♡ my stupid bun. my ride or die. ew. these two years 18/19 has been pretty rough for the both of us and i think it's just a step and a lesson to grow into a better person. you helped me alot through this year and i'm never less thankful for that. the loving things you do for me, the things you would let it slide when it comes to me. your soft spot for me never goes away huh HAH and i'm taking advantage of that. okno i'm kidding. you are a big help for me and for what i went through. you never said no. you always agree on everything and i really appreciate it. when we broke up last year, you still insisted to talk to me. which i find out really annoying. just kidding. i'll let everything slide since you do that to me too. you're a really great person, amazing let me tell you. thanks for being a great friend to me. thanks for helping me out with almost everything. i owe you big time. i love you!!

harry ♡ first of all,  thank you for being a great bestie, we would always talk to each other everyday but you got busy these days :(( but yey, its almost a decade since ive known you, kyak. we met when we were in kbb. you were d__, kyak, smpipol 💕 i feel so giddy giddy all of a sudden lololol. and then we started exchanging contacts, you were first harry, on fl.  and then we had this, nOOt squad gTG. im nunmul-ing.  why is this suddenly a throwback session.  and and and then theres trisha gosh i love trisha and you too. i adore you for being such an honest person, when it comes to telling your problems to us, which is something i cant really do. if you have problems, dont hesitate to tell us, though i dont really help much eheh. but sometimes there are things that arent meant to be said. its okay, theres nothing wrong feeling sad, feeling all those negative feelings. we are human too, we have feelings. it is okay to sometimes not be okay, it is okay. but other than that, be happy with those you are surrounded with. youre someone that worth a big hug.  i hope you spent your day with those you love 💕 i hope youre having a good day. youre an amazingly talented person. i hope youd achieve your dream soon, i pray for your health, and for you to surrounded by lovely people. you're such a talented person and gosh, your drawings for the fashion week, cries. chef kisses momma!!! you should update me on your life more because i wanna know what you do and support you on everything you do. don't forget me anyways :(( because you're the only realest annoying brutally honest bitch i love :(( i love you!! 

thanks for an amazing 2019, lets get closer in 2020. i love you guys. ♡

[deafchild2000]

I Never Really Liked Rikki

Alright before y'all go on and say I'm "shitposting" or degrading your favorite mermaid, just let me let it out!

Rikki Chadwick is one of the 5 mermaids (yes, counting Bella and Charlotte) on H2O: Just Add Water. When she she became a mermaid, she got heating powers, essentially leading to actual fire and lightning powers in Season 2.

On the Wikia, she's described as: Rikki is quite rebellious, independent, sarcastic and carefree, making the two argue often.Rikki frequently speaks her mind without euphemism or without care that her opinions might hurt other people's feelings. She has a hard time sympathizing with people who are in pain, as seen in "Dangerous Waters." She can be very stubborn and has a short temper. Rikki has a strong adventurous streak and is the first to fully embrace the possibilities of the girls' new powers. Despite their arguments, Rikki and Emma do get along a lot of the times, and Rikki genuinely cares for her friends. This is demonstrated when she takes Emma and Cleo out on a shopping spree with her new money in "Dangerous Waters." To make up for her previous blunder in the same episode, she also does her best to buy Cleo the perfect new fish (as thanks, Cleo dubs the fish "Hot Stuff," in honor of Rikki). Rikki also shows her care for Emma when Rikki prods Byron to apologize to her friend in "Sink or Swim," revealing that Emma is not as tough and thick-skinned as she lets on.

Not only does Rikki shows her rebellious nature freely, but she encourage it in her friends as well. In "Pressure Cooker", Rikki encouraged Cleo and Emma to rebel against Charlotte Watsford and her mother, Annette Watsford who were invited by Don Sertori to stay over for dinner. Thinking that Don is getting remarried and that Charlotte will become Cleo's step sister, Rikki encouraged the others to use their powers to ruin the food, not knowing that Annette was only invited as a business partner. Despite her carefree nature, Rikki is capable of displaying a sense of responsibility especially when it comes to money. In the episode "Hook, Line and Sinker", Rikki attempted to look for some financial security for her family by attending Harrison Bennett's seminar, only to find it to be a scam. In "In Over Our Heads", Rikki attempted to help her father by trying to find a lost treasure for the reward money because her family was struggling with the bills. During her stay as café manager in season three, she was able to show her ability in running a business successful. When Rikki left after breaking up with Zane, the café started to struggle despite Sophie replacing her as manager, showing her organizational and monetary abilities.

But the things is, I never connected to her. Actually, I could never relate to any of the trio, but Rikki at most (ironically it's Charlotte and Bella that has my favor.).

See, by technically, I should like her because I'm sarcastic, independent, rebellious, stubborn, easily vengeful, unapologetically blunt at times and savvy business-wise (side hustle - jobs- for money). Plus I've been borderline homeless and raised by a single parent.

But for myself and others, I had needed to be more than that. Where I'm sarcastic, I am concerned and loyal when it needs to be regardless of circumstances. Where I'm independent, even I have to admit defeat and ask for help because I accept I don't know everything. When I'm stubborn, while admitting for fighting in what I believe in, I do my best to set it aside when need be or else Karma would be on my ass. For my rebelliousness, I have to know when I draw the line and go too far. Same goes for being vengeful, but I at least have someone (mom and uncle) on my corner to steer me away and even get a good laugh out of it while I can still reverse it. I'm legit working on being blunt since past experiences taught me sugarcoating isny always the best option, but I do have basic understanding why people do it. Sometimes the bandaid does need gently peeling to get the job done - especially if it's for the sake of a child.

So in comparison, between me and Rikki, felt that aside from a few glimpses of her realizing her mistakes and vulnerability, in those 3 years of being a mermaid, she never really took on the lessons she learned and developed Empathy. Empathy is all about understanding someone and their feelings, especially if their in a place you've been before. And considering that Rikki had a bunch of friends to pull her from the dark side of her personality, no one really bothered to do that when her personality took a turn for the worse in Season 2. Season 3 was when she nearly reached the point of No Return if Will hadn't intervene to stop her from borderline killing Ryan in the moon pool.

Then, I've talked to friends about this and perhaps it originally stemmed from the mermaid aspect of her life. Yes, H2O is just a tv show, and it aired years before I entered my own teenhood, but people are drawn to it because they can relate to the girls in the show. So, when it came to being a mermaid, I believed that it was because all teenagers struggled with being different and that what usually (or generally) sets them apart from their peers.

Now, I live in the US, and I'm an African-American female who's smart (book and street-wise) and has an internal, physical disability: I'm deaf in my right ear. Add in a potential fact that I might have Aspergers (a form of Autism), I never really stood a chance growing up. I knew how to be apart of a group (most of the time), but I was essentially a wall flower in it. There was/are time when I had to dive into things trending for pre/teens just so I had to understand what the big fuss was about. (Plus watching people deal with unnecessary teen drama has always been a turnoff for me.)

Thus leading me to believe Rikki never really had to fight for anything. Yeah, she was pure but not poor enough to live in a single house of multiple strangers (which was my life in 5th grade). She didn't have to struggle to fit in, whether or not that was the case, since she basically had her own little niche of mermaid sisters and (a) boyfriend. In my case, that's more than anyone could ever get in high school- minus the mermaid aspect. But if you add that in, Rikki literally had a whole separate life all to herself where she could get away and in my case, I never had that. Reading and writing was the only escape I had from reality and there were times even that wasn't enough.

So, during that time, if I was one, being a mermaid, like Rikki, would be embeaced but with the rightful amount of shock of the situation would also be there as well.

And maybe I would be prone to abuse my powers, who wouldn't? Having a supernatural ability, using it as I see fit to work for me or against others? I actually thing having something no one else has tend to make anyone else selfish, whether they are all alone or in a small group of those like them. It's Human Nature to be like that. Besides, look when the trio had done so on multiple occasions, yet were hypocrites in regard to Charlotte when she did so to Nate. (Which I will happily point out all the times Rikki did just that, like when she found out she was a part of a fish scheme and all the other times she blantatly almost killed someone with her powers.)

However, I also knew that "With Great Power, Comes Great Repsonibility" is true, regardless of fictional or realistic obligations. If I did want to just pranks someone, I would do it so obviously- with potentially witnesses- and then make it a recurring gag.

(To be honest, if I did and did it so often to a sibling like Kim Sertori, well, let's just say I'd accept responsibility If I got found out because I had it coming for doing said pranks in the first place.)

If I had wanted to use my powers like a weapon to harm someone, I knew I better have a damn good reason to do so, especially if said powers were as dangerous as Rikki's. And then question if that said person was a threat or just someone I really didn't like. And add in the fact if it was on purpose or a genuine accident (like, for example, how I'd like to believe Emma was traumatized after realizing ahe had frozen Miriam alive. Sure the girls saved her in time, but still, that should have been a hint to the girls to not only expand the knowledge of their powers, but become increasingly aware of how dangerous they are. So if they hadn't saved Miriam or Rikki ended up killing her....)

Basically summarizing above, Rikki was shown on more than one regard just how careless and irresponsible she is with her powers and then had the nerve to be self-righteous and hypocritical when someone else does it, and it's someone she doesn't like.

However, while I admit to giving her cudos on some of her ocean adventure - definitely as she's a career diver as an adult- I don't think she really took into account just how much of an advantage she had as a mermaid. While she wasn't a full-on superhero, she probably spent more time in the ocean more than anyone else since getting her tail. Meaning you'd finished being more awareness to the issues on the ocean such as trash and oil spills, taking in for granted having a rich boyfriend could technically help achieve resources to do so. Yeah, they shouldn't be drawing attention to themselves, like at all, but if the ocean is your second home, you can't tell me you'd wouldn't try to help keep that home alive and healthy.

So maybe the producers didn't show it or it just never occurred to them (or in Rikki's case, until her job profession), but if I had mermaid powers and a tail, Lord knows I would have been kept busy for all my teen years cleaning the beaches and pulling up trash after trash to at least somebody caught onto it and started taking action themselves. Not starting a trend, but a chain reaction. And it wouldn't be a seasonal thing either. Basically, if you had the ability to be a live like a fish, you use your human life to bring awareness to sustain that life. We caught maybe a few glimpses btwn H2O and Mako Mermaids, but that would have been a great way for Rikki to express just how much she clearly cared about being a mermaid. But thus she didn't, so I have no reason to believe she did or had a basic understanding of what oppertunities she had offered to her as a mermaid.

I would see it before anyone told me.

And sensing that I'm going off topic, I'll just steer myself back to the point: All other reasons aside, here are my main reasons I never liked her:

Rikki never really grew to have Empathy, or understand when someone is in a place where she once was. She stayed mentally the same as she grew up and it wasn't until she was an adult and found herself back where she started, that she finally developed it.

She actually had more than any other teenage girl can want and more. A roof over her head to call her own, friends and a chance for a significant other? Plus an amazing double life you had to see to believe? For someone like me, who has to fight through obstacles everyday between my race and disability, everything about that spells something worth taking for granted.

She never really took responsibility for her powers or learned from the trouble she caused. Maybe at the time, things seemed necessary, but overall, she was extremely careless and selfish in regards for it. And then some, in regards for using her powers in public and nearly exposed herself, especially when nearly seriously hurting someone, but then had the nerve to berate someone who did just that when she'd done the exact same or worse (adding in potentially murdering someone in the midst of her anger). Season 2 was the so best example of how bad that got and frankly, turned me against her completely to be honest. And Season 3 was basically like Season 1, only Cleo was in Emma's place plus a crazed obsession with protection the moon pool. (Which proven right considered how many damn people found it in the show's history, but still!)

While debatable, she never shown and consideration to the environment ( the Ocean) until it fit her needs. I can name a hundred of ways she could have shown concern and and helped environmental impacts and sea animals affected by it, and do it anonymously, especially considering her future job as a diver.

Like all stories, the 2000s H2O trio is supposed to be 3-dimensial characters who change throughout the story - or in this case, a show - where Emma was a responsible girl who learned to enjoy life, Cleo was a kind girl who learned to grow a backbone and Rikki was a loner who got friends.

As a child, it's easy to see it that way. And considering how Rikki is viewed as someone you'd want to grow up into -Strong, opinionated, stand firm in what's right - who wouldn't idolize that. Anyone, even young girls, should be like that because, in the real world, values like that are rarer than your led to believe.

But when you take into to account of whether or not Rikki is the type of role model you should look up to, then that's why I labeled and the things she's done under:

Static Character.

Rikki started and ended H2O as a mermaid with a rebellious streak. But though she's made mistakes and apologized, she never changed who she was and truly learned from her mistakes, leading me to believe she just kept getting things without any real consequences, thus no character developement.

As I'm ending this, I will acknowledge that I know this sounds like a rant degrading Rikki - and someone will chew me out defending her for it- but after watching all the seasons and how taken Rikki into consideration I came to see if she was real, we'd never get along. So while I'm not going "I hate her so much!" or "She's so ugly!", I'm simply stating why that I don't believe Rikki deserves all the fanfare she's got over the years.

#h2o just add water #mermaids #rikki chadwick #rant #why I don't like this character

[modesty-blaise]

Since I'm curious, what caused you to become very possessive of your gifs? Not out of rudeness but curious, since no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr which automatically credits you at the bottom of the gif.

Hey. Tbh, at first I didn’t wanna bother with yet another anon but since I see no ill intent behind this, I decided to go and answer it. Unfortunately, half-way through I realised my reply is turning into incredibly long semi-bitter rant and expands well beyond calling out just one person in Psychonauts fandom (and yes, this is related to Psychonauts fandom – you do know that these anons are not really that anonymous, right?) so… buckle up! All that beneath “read more”.

I’ve been on this hellsite for like…7-8 years? Maybe more? Can’t really tell cause I moved blogs and my old blog now consists of only 4 posts I’ve made close to leaving so I honestly have no idea how much time I’ve spend here before moving. Anyway, during those few years I’ve spent on my first blog I’ve met a lot of creative gifmakers who enjoyed sharing their love for fandoms they were in. I’d like to point out that this was waaaaay before tumblr created that insert-gif option so, back in the day, the only way to add gifs to your post was to: 1. make them yourself 2. take them from someone else. And a lot of people were taking them from someone else which resulted in many gifmakers giving up on making gifs and leaving fandoms and/or even leaving tumblr – and I’ve had many of my friends give up on what they love and have their games/shows/movies/whatnot ruined for them cause people would not stop stealing from them. And many of my friends eventually left tumblr cause they couldn’t deal with it anymore.

Tumblr adding insert-gif option, in my opinion, honestly, just made it worse for gifmakers. Cause now people had the opportunity to use gifs for their posts, with or without creators’ permission/knowledge, but it was alright and it was perfectly fine cause creators were credited. There’s their name at the bottom. It’s alright. Like… it doesn’t matter if they’re actually okay with people using something they’ve put hours into making or if they’re not – tumblr gives them credit so they SHOULD be okay with it. Simple as that.

Well, we’re all different and some people are not okay with that. I’m not okay with that. It took me weeks to figure out how to use photoshop correctly. Took me countless hours of looking through different tutorials and basically trial-and-error-ing my way through the process. Whenever I make gifs, it takes me hours to record videos and then hours trying to achieve that 3mb limit on gifs (thank lord these days we’re beyond 1mb limit). After all that effort I put into creating gifs for games that I love and enjoy, someone is going to make 2 clicks and have that same gif added to their post, without even asking. So how is that okay?

Back to your question. Yes, “no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr”, that is true and that is something I was aware of when I saw you-know-who announcing they would be starting 30 days Psychonauts challenge. So, hating to see my gifs used against my will, and not wanting to start any unnecessary drama and threaten people in advance with reporting them if they do use them, I’ve made my blog as private as I could. It was only accessible through the dashboard, it was not showing in ANY search engines inside and outside tumblr, and my gifs were impossible to find through insert-gif function – I’ve made sure. I did all that cause I just knew that during those 30 days, someone would use my gifs and I would get mad and I desperately wanted to avoid that (hence going extreme). And you know what happened? You know what creator of this challenge (who prevously already reposted my gifs) did? *drums* They used my shit anyway. :3 They just uploaded it from their computer, where they’ve saved it earlier.

And like… a lot of people see pretty pic and decide to save it - I mean, we all do that. Heck, even I have a folder full of shit I saw online and liked it – but i’m not uploading it online cause I haven’t made it. It’s not mine to share.

But some people are not like that.

Some people see fanart of something they like and they want to share their opinion on it – and instead of making their own post, maybe drawing the fanart themselves, they decide to use someone else’s art for their post. Do they know who made it? Do they have creator’s permission to share it? If the answer is NO, then they should be a decent human being and not do that to creators. Oh, they shared it anyway but now people in fandom are calling them out BUT this actually happened on accident? They know who the creator is but, somehow, they accidentally forgot to credit them? OK, well, it’s possible, shit happens, but they better make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Then sometime later these same people decide they want to make a post appreciating their fav character and they want to include pics cause duh, you can’t have character appreciation post without pics, right? Now they have several options: they can get their own screenshots, make their own gifs, maybe draw something… or they can just take someone else’s creation. Do they know who made it? Well there’s my fuckin name on it, and since they’ve stretched it from 245 to 500px, it’s really hard to miss, plus it’s not like there are that many people making Psychonauts gifs. Do they have permission to share it? Hmmm, nope, didn’t ask me. Is this also an accident? Could be. I mean, I’ve seen stranger things happen, so accidentally forgetting to credit content creators twice… kinda suspicious but still possible. Who am I to say?

Now if these people then decide to make a post appreciating their fav ship and they want to add a cute pic of the loving couple – yup, you guessed it! They can either create something or take something. Again: they know who did? They asked for permission? Got the permission? No?!?! But they posted it anyway?!?! :o Could it really be, that after being called out publicly, after being told that reposting is bad (something that’s very easy to understand), after even having tumblr staff intervene and remove stolen shit from their blog, after all that - could it really still be an accident?

Nah, man.

They just don’t give a shit.

Cause if they did, they’d stop with that crap first time they were called out.

(and if you think Psychonauts fandom is their only fandom and that they’re not doing this crap in other fandoms too - hoooo, boy, do I have some bad news for you! Do you know how many stolen and butchered HP fanart is on their blog? Hobbit stuff? They seem to be one of the most accident-prone users on tumblr. And honestly - it’s a real miracle their blog’s not been terminated.)

Back to what I was talking about - I’m not okay with people using my gifs and I’ve made it very clear. I literally do not give a shit if I’m credited or not, I’ve made it very clear that I don’t want my gifs used without my permission. If you like them and want them on your blog, there’s a fuckin reblog button. It’s sole purpose is to allow you to share other people’s creations. Or shitposts, cause lord knows we all love those.

So that’s why when someone spends hours going through my Psychonauts tag and goes as far as to send me “I love your gifs” anonymous message, but the very next day makes stim moodboard post including one of my gifs, now cut and resized to fit 3x3 format they’re going with, I get mad. And that’s why when someone uses one of my gifs to promote their RP blog, butchering it to fit their aesthetics, and later when confronted going as far as blaming their good friend on it cause god! they’ve had no idea it wasn’t theirs, I get mad. (makes you wonder though: if they friend has such skills, why not making them gifs themselves?)

Like…. I’ve had my gifs stolen plenty of times. I’ve had them stolen for roleplaying, for headers, for imagines, just for notes… I’ve had them stolen by people claiming to run official fan sites (that’s a real wild story but I won’t get into that now)… I’ve seen them on pinterest, weheartit, FB, all those random gif sites… and I’ve seen EVERY. POSSIBLE. EXCUSE. ranging from: “well i found it on google so why should i credit you” “lol dunno who made this but its pretty so im posting it” “ive had it on my computer for years so i don’t remember where i got it from” “i dont know how to make gifs so im using weheartit as a source” “credit to whoever made this” (that’s my fav) to “its just a gif so who gives a shit” (it’s not – it’s hours of creator’s time and lots of love that you’re now shitting on so thanks) and “i have an /illness/ and getting notes makes me feel better so dont u dare blame me for stealing” (I don’t remember exact excuse but it was something along those lines and like… how do you even respond to something that without looking like an asshole?).

And sometimes it really is just an accident. Sometimes people really do forget to credit you and/or ask you for permission. And I’ve had my fair share of those accidents. People in Psychonauts fandom have been using my gifs for various crap but, when approached, they’ve removed it and apologised. And it’s something I really appreciate. (if they actually bother reading this and they recognise themselves: i’m really grateful and thank you for not being an ass)

But you know what I don’t appreciate? People making a call out posts about me, asking about my gifs when they know very well they’re the main reasons why I’m not making those gifs anymore, at the same time failing to address any of the issues I have with them and instead rather explaining to others what happened BUT explaining only the parts that make me look like a villain cause how I even dare be mad about them stealing? How I even dare call them out on it? That is so ridiculous and criminal of me, and it’s so so sooooo bad that they need to call me out. I deserve to be called out by the very same person who’s been stealing my shit.

And their explanation is…well… it’s something.

They were sympathetic and polite? When did this happen? Did I completely missed that part? Please someone fuckin enlighten me with such post/message where they expressed their sympathy and politeness and I’ll apologise right this second.

I told them to “literally fuck off”? Yeah, that did happen, I admit that. Did they bother explaining why I told them to fuck off in the first place? Did they say they were caught stealing from me and had tumblr stuff remove my shit from their blog? Did they get into details of how they demanded the proof of my so very wild and obviously false claims but then when I showed it, they just deleted that “how dare u call me out cause I would never do such thing” post? No, they didn’t and geee, I really wonder why.

Instead, what did they choose to address? Out of all the things I’ve said. Hm? What did they choose? Me telling them to fuck off. Me dropping the F-bomb on them, rudely rejecting their obvious kindness and politeness. Nothing else.

Back to what I was talking about before I got derailed again: no, I’m not mad cause this person used my gifs without crediting me. I mean – I am, but that’s not my main issue with them (and they know it). My main issue is that this is someone who will continuously lie and steal and still deny any of it, even when there’s plenty of proof (and you can always count on me to show up with proof tbh), and then go as far as to publicly ask about my gifs and try to call me out. Like me getting mad that something I’ve put hours of work into, and something I’ve made cause I love the game and I want to share my love and appreciation for it, is now being shared against my will and my knowledge - like me getting mad over something like that is so unreasonable that they need to make an entire post about it while pretending they have absolutely no idea why I’m even mad and why we have issues.

And I have every fucking right to be mad. 3 times is not an accident. 2 times to the same person is not an accident. They know it. But yeah, playing stupid is their defense so it’s not like I expected them to actually address their actions this time either.

And you know what? Just because I swear a lot doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Doesn’t mean there’s no solid ground for my claims. People on tumblr have always been and always will be stealing shit. Sometimes they will credit you, often they will not, and that’s just how it is, doesn’t matter if you’re okay with it or not. But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit quiet and accept someone’s shitty behaviour. Especially when it’s directed at me.

TLDR: giving credit =/= having permission

but my previous posts leading to this ask were not about that

you knew that already

#psychonauts #this is a lot longer than i expected #meh #also: all those posts are now under one tag #so you don't have to check my blog 4 times per day #that hobbit reposter #my psychonauts stuff

[pengosolvent]

really frightened that i am lacking something essential and will never be able to be a skilled or creative artist no matter how hard i try. equally frightened that i have sabotaged my own progress in various ways and have wasted years backsliding and will never “get back” any skill i did previously exhibit. do you have any suggestions for how to continue to produce art and improve even when constantly suffocated by fear

anon this is a common but unfortunate occurrencei feel this a lot too this is a very long reply because i think about this kinda stuff often, so there’s a readmore

i’ve got some advice for you, though i’m sure you’ve probably already heard some if not all of this before, so i don’t mean to talk to you like this is new magic info, but just reiterating stuff that i try to keep in mind that might work for you tooalso i want to point out that i’m not a professional remotely, so the things i’m stating are completely from my own personal experiences ….. and also i struggle with perfectionism and other things so while i give this advice i also still have trouble with the problems noted and also i use a lot of examples and comparisons when i talk because its easier for me to understand things that way

anyway:

1- you are the person who sees your art the mostthis is a very obvious thing, to state but it ties directly into a lot of what you’ve statedyou feel you lack something essential, you feel you’ve backslid and lost previous skills, and youre afraidbut think about the other art you seeyou ONLY see the end result of what everyone posts… or even if people do post in-progress pictures or speedpaints, you’re not really seeing the “scope” of it with in-progress pictures, you don’t know how much changed or how much was erased how much time was spent how much etc with speedpaints, you see all the progress but its sped up and it’s easy to feel like all of that was done faster than it really was even if youre aware its sped up

and even if you watched a realtime video of someone drawing… theres thousands of hours outside of that video of this person doodling, and even THINKING about their art that you havent seen it makes other peoples art feel a lot more.. confident? secure?

for your own art however, you are fully aware of the struggle of every line because you’re the one doing it and thinking about itit might make you feel like you’re trying so hard when everyone else has just Got it

2- experiencing art as a consumer vs a creator is a different feelingthis is directly tied to the previous idea but it’s easy to feel like you lack something essential when, instead of consuming the art, you are the one producing it 

here’s an example: i love horror contentnot all of it of course, but i love horror that really makes me think and makes me see a characters motivations and really digs in deep psychologically and sticks with you even after you’re done experiencing the media

however it is very very hard for me to make anything that is strictly horror. for a long time i thought i was just bad at it, but i realized later that i’m not missing something that helps to write/draw horror … i just experience horror different based on if i’m consuming it vs making it part of the horror appeal to me is the MYSTERYif i am writing/drawing horror, there is NO mystery! i know everything there is to know about the situation i am making! i know all the character’s motivations, i know everything there is to know about every tiny detail and even if i am writing something where i don’t know what happens so it’s a purposeful mystery (such as in this comic where i don’t know what happens if you take off the tinier beak) it sometimes feels less Cool Mystery for me and more like “oh no i don’t know this thing, oh god, i’m a bad writer”i’ve gotten over that little by little, but it’s still hard to shake that i’m “missing” something with work that ISN’T mine its easy to put meaning that may not have been totally intended and THINK that the person meant it, and thus feel like that thing is more thought-out than it actually is

you might be experiencing something similar with art… where it feels like when you see OTHER art, you feel happy or like theres a meaning there etc but with your own art, you can’t capture that same feeling… it could literally be because you know what youre going for and what youre doing because youre the one doing it

3a- old art feels better sometimes because it is more removed from youyou know better than i do in this regard if this is true to you, because sometimes people can genuinely get rusty and lose but for the most part older art tends to feel better due to the fact it is becoming more and more removed from your current state and mindsetold art starts to slowly get treated the way you read Other people’s art because you’re not staring at it constantly and you start to forget the process and effort behind the old art

sometimes you can’t see well if your new art is “better” or not because it is too current on your mind and you know how hard it is to make and if it does or doesnt match what you were going for or etc etcmeanwhile your old art starts to be viewed more objectively because you dont remember every difficult line with it, and you can see it as a bit better because you’re not bogged by the negativity

3b- even if you fell off, you can regain the skill

even if you DID get worse over time… you did it once before and you can do it againyou can learn from your old works, but also try to learn from your old mentality a lot of my old stuff was more expressive and emotivei could learn to do that again mechanically, imitating my old stuff, but a big part of why my art was that way was because my mentality was different back then i was louder, more open, etc etcthink about what’s changed within you to see reasons for things changed in your art

4a- fear only works if you’re afraid of being badit is important to be able to see ways you can improve… but it’s also important not to fear that you have areas that CAN improveif you view “making something bad” as a punishment/negative outcome your fear directs itself through all your art

the easiest point fear can attack is starting to draw at allbefore you start drawing its very easy for your mind to go “why do this? why try if it’s just going to be stressful” and all through out the process that ramps up like “see it’s just stressful why do it”

your fear seemingly offers you something to gain if you don’t even try: avoiding the pain of art altogether

but what if you were unphased by that pain? if you don’t care about making something bad, that fear can’t manifest

some artists start their day by drawing the shittiest thing they can to shake off rust and have fun doing it … drawing a cartoon character from memory, drawing and overly rendered shitpost etc now i’m not saying not to care about your quality and take a ton of shortcuts and blablait’s still good to want to learn and improve it’s just that you have to start rearranging your perspective on your steps to achieve that

4b- no-stakes neutral is no problemhow do you get rid of that fear? how do you stop feeling being bad is.. bad?

try to view arts range as neutral to positive (as opposed to negative to postive) because at it’s base that’s exactly what art is what i mean by that is…let’s say you’re trying to draw a cat (and it’s not a commission or anything). your first attempt does not look anything like a cat this is not a “bad” thing though it may feel that way your failed attempt at a cat has not stabbed you or taken money or food from you or in any way truly inconvenienced you

the base idea is that you drew something and it wasn’t what you wanted this is completely neutral.. it’s like going to look for a new shirt. if you see shirts you don’t care for, you move past them until you get to the shirt you want.your “bad art” is just that. a bunch of shirts you don’t want til you find the one you’re looking for… you don’t have to pay anything for those “bad” attemptssure they take a bit of time and if you don’t have a lot of energy you might feel bad to use it on a drawing that you don’t enjoy and it can be frustrating if you keep trying to no avail, but all in all it’s not a stark negative

art isn’t a straight pathit’s winding, it’s really confusing , and it can be tiringbut if you go down a path that’s a dead end, you just try another pathdon’t fear reaching dead ends, there are always more paths

chuck jones (an iconic animator) said he had to draw multiple drafts to get expressions just right failure is in the eye of the beholder… he felt the first drafts for those expressions did not fit what he wanted, but he didn’t fear failure because of that even if the art was not by his standards, he continued until he got the one he felt was appropriate

it takes patience to get to where you wantif you stay patient you will eventually arrive there

5- drawing and thinking go hand in handart is a blend of being able to draw and being able to problem solve through what you already knowwhen i get stressed with art it’s usually because i don’t know what the hell i’m doing with no way to check myself if i’m close to what i want or not with me it tends to happen with backgrounds or animalsthis is why ppl typically suggest learning to draw cubes, cylinders and spheres from any angle because then you can transfer that base knowledge into other objectslike, cubes can be used to draw rooms, boxes, screens, fences, etccylinders can be pipes, water bottles, arms and legs, etc

transfering base knowledge is essential in art and understanding that you can do that, even if only as a base, helps a lotwith learning how to draw a mouse, you have a starting point for learning how to draw a rat (comparing the headshapes, sizes, ears, etc)… then you can use these two as a base point for drawing a squirrel, then a rabbit etc

another example could be maybe you know how to draw claws but not fangs… you can interchange the shape of a curved claw for a curved fang easily

starting with something you know and figuring out how to transfer the knowledge is very important and can help lessen that stress because instead of not even knowing where to start, you can problem solve to figure out what you already know under different termsits just all about knowing what connections you can try and learn, and working “smart”

on that vein… 6- perfecting things doesn’t make perfectit’s very tempting to make every tiny detail as good as you possibly can… but it’s very daunting and time consumingyou should try to work “smart” here too and now what i mean by that is … say i’m making a comic. i can make the comic to the absolute best of my current ability and take forever and become extremely drained Or… i could decide to try but still set a deadline for myself, and not worry TOO much about the smaller details why is the second one better? because i will get it done. if i try very very hard my ABSOLUTE best on a comic, making sure every single line is perfect, in a few months that comic will still be outdated. it will still get old and the amount i learned from it is limitedif i give myself some leeway (still trying of course, still learning and challenging myself) and set a deadline, i learn to be disciplined in my comics, i get a comic finished, AND i learn more because i am finishing more work in general

this is a really helpful video that explains this point more in depth 

this isn’t to say you need to take the easiest routes for art that are availableit’s more like… back to the comic example, let’s say it’s like making a cake i can be a huge perfectionist about my cake, carving everything exact and putting every drop of frosting as exact as i can… but i’m still not a “master” at this i’m still learning the next time i make a cake i’m going to have to do the same situation … take forever to try to make the perfect cake

if i make a cake and still try, but accept when i don’t know how to get the exact result, my first cake is going to be a bit of a mess, but the next cake i make, i’ll be a little closer and in the time it takes Perfectionist Me to make 2 cakes, i might have already made 10 and i’ve sped up the process now and improved because i’ve learned a lot with those 10 cakes

there’s probably more that can be said about art, but i’m hesitant to try to dictate too much about how you experience your art and go about it i hope that this can help you at least a bit though

#nonbonart post

[rulay]

I (20m) am getting jealous of my boyfriend's (19m) fictional crush

tl;dr My boyfriend is obsessed about a video game character and may as well be mentally dating him. This isn't a joke, I seriously need help.

The story begins approximately two to three years ago when I introduced my boyfriend to a video game I was playing. Prior to this my boyfriend hadn't really been interested in video games, even though I had asked it to play with me and offered to buy it games. It seemed disinterested at first, but as soon as a certain character showed up it immediately pointed to him and went "ooh, who's that?" Suddenly it wanted to know everything about the character, what role he played, what the game was about, and if it could play after I was done.

And thus began my one sided rivalry with Mikleo.

Ever since that day my boyfriend lives and breathes Mikleo. Its constantly showering me with trivia about him, what it finds "interesting" (or attractive) about him, and talking non stop about general tales lore. Its played every single tales game it could get its tiny little hands on, and our conversations are dominated by its observations and thoughts on him. And of course, because its an artist, there's the fanart. So much fanart.

I'm not gonna lie, at first it was pretty cool. It was always disinterested and vaguely disdainful of me playing video games, so it was awesome to see it jumping into a hobby that I loved. It actually apologized to me over dinner one day, saying that it had never understood why I liked video games so much, but after playing some itself it finally got the appeal. We pooled money together to buy a better TV. I bought it a gaming PC for its birthday and it cried out of joy. It got us matching video game t shirts and bought me cool new games whenever it came across any. It started playing other games that I recommended as well. My friends told me how jealous they were because my boyfriend was "so cool" and played video games with me. For the next few years we raved over cool new games that came out, bitched about the bad ones, spent our evenings playing video games and challenging each other, and had a hell of a good time.

And throughout all this prevailed Mikleo.

I'm not gonna lie, I was a little bit jealous when my boyfriend jumped into her "crazy crush on Mikleo" phase (did I mention the fanart?) but when it started picking up different games I thought it was something it would move on from. I mean, there are lots of other good looking twinks in games, right? But its love for Mikleo was pure, and it only grew bigger as it started playing other games. This boy wasn't as feminine as Mikleo. This character was too sarcastic and rude. This one just wasn't good looking enough. At the end of the day, it was still drawing weirdly flattering pictures of Mikleo, and writing stories where it would somehow "bump into" him and madly fall in love.

Now I'm not one to complain about a harmless fictional crush; I had my own imaginary affair with Tear Grants back in the day. But I guess what bothers me is how much my boyfriend's "relationship" with Mikleo leaks into real life. It posts its art and writing onto some fan website and asks me to proofread/critique its stuff, for example. I have to admit, it does make me crazy jealous. Its never drawn or written about us in cute couple situations, but suddenly its portraying herself as being in a relationship with Mikleo. We don't have any pictures of us around the apartment, but "its side" of our gaming room is plastered with Mikleo or tales related posters. It fucking talks about him in its sleep. Its asked if we can do sexy stuff while roleplaying as Sorey and Mikleo. Keep in mind that I'm what you would find on the first page of Google images if you looked up "haha what a fucking nerd." I don't have the cute ponytail or adventurous spirit or snarky attitude. I weigh barely more than my boyfriend, still shitpost about children’s card games online, and only learned yesterday that it's easier to put on socks before pants.

I love my boyfriend, I really do. I love how it gave video games a chance and is supportive of my hobbies. I love how it puts so much passion into its art. I love how compassionate and romantic it is with me (and Mikleo). I just can't help but feel like I'm second best to a video game character, and I've even dreamed of situations where somehow it actually does run into Mikleo while coming home from work and just elopes with him. I get that this is probably a "me" problem, but I have no idea how to even approach it. I don't want to flat out tell it that I'm jealous of Mikleo because, well, I don't want to come across as a controlling freak and possibly ruin video games for it. But at the same time, I can't help but feel that I've been sharing the last few years of my marriage with a fictional character.

(edit) Shortly after writing this post I felt kinda pathetic for not just telling it flat out, so I did. It says it'd have stopped crushing on video game characters if I'd been more romantic and spontaneous towards it in the first place, and it just resolved to having imaginary relationships because it pretty much gave up on me being more vocal/active about my emotions. It also called me a fucking idiot for being jealous of a video game character. So yeah, any advice on how to be more romantic/spontaneous would be appreciated.

#this is a copy pasta i promise #this is also going in lukes tag. #luke