#what better way for me to test them out than with drawing the sillies..

[jackshiccup]

some modern hijacks for the soul (and bumping shoulders as a love language)

shoutout @midoristeashop for these swag brushes <3

#having thoughts abt long distance hijack.. #them meeting at an exchange program or whatever in college #and hitting it off and becoming rly good friends #cue the dancing around each other hence the shoulder bumps as a flirting tactic 😭 #hiccup confessing at the airport just when theyre saying goodbye ahaaahaha.. #ANYWAY seriously these brushes r SOOO fun #i love it… thamk u.. #what better way for me to test them out than with drawing the sillies.. #hijack #frostcup #jackshiccup art #my art #hiccup #jack frost #httyd #rotg #jack wants to run his hand thru hiccup’s hair soooo bad can u tell #ok sleepy time <3

[wonjns]

citrus — p.wb

⌗ pairing. . . park wonbin x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut,, pwp tbh

⌗ summary. . . your fwb coerces you to drink pineapple juice solely because he loves the way you taste when you do. he's simply a man of science.

⌗ includes. . . switch!wonbin, semi-public, blowjob (rec.), overstimulation, mdni!!

⌗ wc. 1.4k

°A/N. . . requested by 🐈‍⬛✓ "....can I request a dom Wonbin whose obsessed with giving you blowjobs 🫣 I know he's a certified babygirl but something about his aura onstage mixed with those perfect lips of his makes my stomach do PIROUETTES." // HI ANONNN so sorry that this took me FOREVER love,, and that its so short. but i hope u enjoy it & i have more riize content coming very soon!!

the last thing park wonbin was, is predictable.

its been nearly 6 months since you've started your whole friends-with-benefits-borderline-situationship ordeal, and every time you hook up he still manages to make the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely haywire.

you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about him that always got you so worked up. truthfully, it could be anything from his passion, versatility in bed, or more obviously his painstakingly good looks — but the one thing that you couldn't deny was your favorite is that he was the absolute king of giving head.

and it was his favorite, too, if the way he'd randomly start stroking you to full hardness throughout the day was anything to go by.

at first, you simply loved the way his soft lips would mold against yours whenever you'd make out. even more so when it was in a frenzied manner in the backseat of his car after a rough exam. that cloud 9 feeling would descend upon you whenever he would draw your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it rhythmically. yet, even that quickly proved to be only a warm up for what he was about to do when he’d begin to unbuckle your pants.

wonbin was a beautiful man, with beautiful eyes and a beautiful soul to match. there were books full of wholesome things you could list that contributed to your attraction towards him. but at the end of the day, you just had to admit that the motherfucker had those tantalizing, plush, pillowy lips that felt even better than they looked when he would wrap them around your needy cock.

he loved how subby it made you - how easily only he could reduce you into a pile of desperation for him with just his mouth alone. one touch from him and desire was radiating off you in waves of shameless pheromones.

he knew how much you loved it, causing the prideful boy to take even more joy in sucking you off.

one day, wonbin even went as far as to start convincing you to add pineapple to your diet, after he was scrolling through tiktok and found out it made you taste better down there. the blonde already thought you were naturally the best thing he’d ever tasted, so he practically had to stifle a moan at just the thought that he could make your orgasms even sweeter.

it felt a bit silly, the way he would start ordering pineapple juice for you at restaurants, but you went along with it regardless for the sake of testing the theory.

and oh boy, did it turn out to be true.

after the fruit had become part of your habitual snack routine, the orgasms wonbin would give you were nothing short of out of this world. you'd noticed his grip on your hips would be even tighter once your precum started seeping on to his tongue, and his throaty moans became even deeper.

you'd feel his eager, pink tongue begin to lap up and down the bottom of your shaft with more intensity, goosebumps rising from every inch of your skin as you were catapulted into your climax.

"oh my god, binnie...." you couldn't help but whimper, fingers curling into his silky golden locks when you saw his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

that first time, the way he licked up the entirety of the mess you made even after spilling down his welcoming throat showed you how serious it was to him.

"fuck," wonbin would groan, making sure to collect any remnants off of your lower stomach before grinning up at you. "we are definitely sticking with that method."

then before you knew it, he quickly became greed personified.

you'd think with how in command he always was, that you'd be the one usually on your knees for him - but he easily made it known that he wanted access to your sweet juices whenever he wanted.

and to wonbin... there was never an inappropriate time.

you'd have to use both hands to count the amount of times that you'd been out in public when he'd lay one of his ridiculously attractive, veiny hands on top of your core just to feel how your member would twitch at his touch.

it didn't matter if you were out shopping. it didn't matter if you were in the library. and it definitely didn't matter that you were now at dinner with the entire friend group.

wonbin didn't hesitate to give you that signature look, the one he knew you couldn't resist, while cupping your quickly growing erection after playing with under the table for the past ten minutes. for good measure, he also gave his plump bottom lip a singular tug between his teeth, just to seal the deal, to make sure he got you in the bathroom with your jeans pooled around your ankles.

you had to admit it was addicting, the way wonbin's smooth hands glided under your shirt to run along your torso while he teasingly licked your bulge through the thin layer of your underwear. your head fell back against the cool tile, unable to voice out your thoughts of how irrational this was.

nothing mattered when wonbin finally tugged your boxers down, removing that final blockade from him and your aching cock, already glistening with leaking arousal.

he shamelessly moaned when he pulled you into his mouth, wantonly sucking on your length as if it were his well earned dessert. in a way, it was — you have no idea what wonbin did in order to earn it while your friends were mindlessly chatting away back at the table, but you couldn't say no to him.

"god, y/n, i've got to be a fucking genius." the potty (albeit talented) mouth groaned. "you taste so good and haven't even cum yet."

you whined at his words, causing him to smirk as you meekly attempted to pull his head back to your cock, silently begging for more. he loved to tease you by randomly stopping just to utter nonsense, knowing the cool air exposed to your private parts after being wet from his mouth made you shiver.

you furrowed your hands in their familiar spot in wonbin's hair as he fiddled about leaving opened mouth kisses along your thighs. he took the time to gently suck the skin just below your belly button to drive you insane before he went back to the real work.

you often wondered how he never complained about his knees hurting, but just as you were about to ask him, he started bobbing his head up and down your length with vigor.

a loud moan managed to escape your lips when he hollowed his cheeks out around you, his warmness sending your body into overdrive.

"c-cumming—" was all you had to mutter before wonbin was pulling back, a smug look on his face as he held his thick tongue out.

"give it to me, pretty boy."

you nearly sobbed, overwhelmed with how sexy he looked - baffled with how dominant his aura could still be even while on his knees for you. he was commanding you while below you, and you’d never thought once about disobeying.

all it took was a quick jerk of your wrist after grabbing hold of your length, your love liquids shooting out and landing right on their target.

it was lewd, and a little embarrassing, watching wonbin swallow all you had to offer, but the way his adams apple bobbed while he lowly hummed to himself in satisfaction nearly sent you into another climax.

"so good, baby." wonbin drawled, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward to firmly grab your thighs, catching your relaxing cock back in his mouth.

you whined out feeling wonbin’s tongue properly clean all around your length, the overstimulation making your legs shake erratically.

weak attempts to push his head away were futile, wonbin absolutely having to lap up every inch of your skin he could to truly savor in the moment. it was a lot, but your body craved it. your head feebly swayed back and forth against the wall, and you swore your legs were seconds away from giving out when he finally pulled back.

wonbin pulled your underwear and jeans back up around your waist as he stood, softly kissing your lips to bring you back down to earth. you swore during the moments like this, that you loved him.

"lets go wrap up with the guys, then we can watch a movie at the house. how's that sound?" he questioned, raising a brow while gently pinching your flushed cheeks.

you nodded, before taking a deep breathe to compose yourself.

it was a cute offer, but in reality you were aware that the rest of your night 100% entailed of you chugging a pineapple juice to-go in the car ride home, knowing that wonbin was gonna have you on your back drawing at least two more orgasms out of you before even turning the tv on.

© 𝐟𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢 — all rights reserved

#💌flwr;reqs #kpop x male reader #riize x male reader #wonbin x reader #kpop smut #riize smut #wonbin smut #wonbin hard hours #kpop hard hours #kpop fanfic #male reader #male reader smut #riize imagines #kpop lgbtq

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

#a singular chapter in which dream has a good time! #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #bit of a time jump bc i dont think i have it in me to write one billion physical therapy sessions XD like they gotta kiss sometime #long post

[tloubraininfection]

I love the giraffe scene as much as the next person, but I love their conversation on the roof even more. What gets me every time is when Joel says “WE don’t have to do this, you know that right?”. It’s not only fully WE at this point, but it’s also a moment when we see him really done with the whole thing, he`s really really done. He`s just got this girl back after almost losing her a thousand times. After walking through hell and back with her. And he can see so clearly the toll it is taking on her. For Joel as long as she`s here the world is already saved, he doesn’t need or want more. To be able to see this girl laugh would be enough. To see her grow and become even more Ellie? Yeah that’s more than enough.

And if she said ok, they`d be on their way to Tommy’s that very second. After David she`s never been the same and he has no idea how to fix it. And the truth is he can’t, but he sees her determination, he really wants to help her get there, lift that horrible burden that`s been crushing her. Crushing him having to witness it every day, the powerlessness of it all.

When Marlen says: “Cause I think she`d wanna do what’s right”. You can see in Joel`s eyes, that he agrees with her, he’s seen the truth of it on this little girls face, fiercer than ever in recent weeks. He knows better than anyone just how much she wants her immunity to mean something, but he also knows why. Why she`d be making that decision, and why she`d chose this fate over her own life and future.

So he takes that decision away from her, as it was never supposed to fall on someone so young, on no one really, but especially not on a child. He makes a decision for her, as any parent would. If it was just tests or drawing blood, if it was just minor procedure that would help make the cure and at the same time give Ellie some of that meaning and purpose, he would`ve stayed with her as long as it took, would`ve held her hand, would`ve distracted her with silly jokes and would`ve taken her home after. But if the cost is her life? Yeah, none of it matters now. It’s not only about the fact that she’s his daughter and he would never ever let anyone hurt her, but she is also just a little girl who hasn’t even had time to live yet. You really expect Joel Miller to be fine with that?

And the Fireflies went about this thing the worst way possible. From the very beginning hes met with hostility, he got knocked out, told that his kid is about to be murdered and then marched out at gunpoint? Like everything theyve been through meant nothing, like she meant nothing? Her young life stolen from her just like that? Just like Sarah`s? All those years ago, but also now, everyday, all that beauty and vitality endlessly bleeding out in Joel`s arms? I don’t even consider it a decision, he never even thought about it. He just knew he`s not losing another daughter. He can’t lose another daughter. And Ellie is not losing her life, it belongs to her.

Joel can finally see past the present, past the trauma, he can see Ellie`s future days and if he’s included in them great, but if not, at least she`ll get to see them, experience them. And that means everything.

#it really is the simplest story #the best story #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers #tlou hbo spoilers #the last of us hbo spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

Honestly i have so much sympathy for Ailette and the way she mischaracterises Tesilid.

like i myself also fixate on certain parts of the story and extrapolate maybe a bit too much - although in my defence i've only read like half the story.

-but the same can kind of be said of Ailette? This Tesilid is having a new, currently-being-written chapter of his life. In fact she kind of has things even worse, because her characterisation of Tesilid is based off OG!Tesilid, but current Tesilid had his life and outlook irreversibly changed when they met aged 10. But they never really interacted enough afterwards for Ailette to realise just how much of an impact she made on him. She hasn't really had a strong reason to rethink her characterisation of him. Not to mention that she first read the book with her middle school reading comprehension, which. Probably coloured her interpretation for the worse, at least a little.

I really wish Ailette would go into more detail about her own experience as a reader, to really see better how she's viewing this world and its people.

Which paragraphs are the ones that she thinks defines Tesilid's character? (Mine is "I'm praying that they'll all fail the test and go home".)

Which are the ones that made her cry? (Mine's "Right... you're on the side of this world.")

Which are her favourite silly Tesilid moments that make her so fond of teasing Tesilid? (iliac bones)

Which are the ones that reverberate in her head and which won't leave her alone? (Mine is "Please... show me some of that petty mercy too.")

I feel like the fun part of these kinds of isekai story is that. Whatever reaction you had towards Tesilid, be it "wow what a cute kid" or "i'm going to cry, i need to wrap him in a blanket where the world can't hurt him anymore" or "actually he should just destroy the world tbh i would support him", she's been there first and has been doing for at least 10 years, she's the OG. And she's super intense about it too. Like she can say "I need to save him because the story dictates it" all she wants, but the way she reacts so intensely and immediately to Tesilid in danger really speaks volumes of how much emotional investment she has in this guy. Like idk if she really rotates him in her head as much as I do - that might be a me problem - but if you rotate a character in your head enough times while fixating on certain moments and not others, you probably would end up with a biased interpretation of the character. Especially if you don't have someone else to bounce ideas off. And this gets worse if you're actually living in the character's world, because characters in stories serve certain narrative functions, so all their actions which get included in the narration are inherently biased towards portraying them in a certain way that serves said narrative function. But humans are a lot messier and more dynamic.

i just. shakes her up and down. love the concept of an isekai protagonist and the OG protagonist that they love so much.

anyway this whole post is a testament to how much Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint changed the way I interpret fiction and especially isekai stories. Not me anthromorphozing Ailette as if she's really a person and fellow fan who exists and isn't a character lmaoo, i'm definitely not having a "we're all fragments of kim dokja" moment, no sir. i definitely didn't subconsciously draw connections between ORV's isekai'd MC and myself and S-Class Heroine's isekai'd MC and our commonalities as readers who rotate the same story in their heads very many times, and suddenly make a realisation that's actually more relevant to ORV than the actual story that prompted all this. one whole year after i last read ORV, because ORV's story is So Much and so monumental that i'm still haunted by it and figuring it out and it lowkey never left my mind, even after a whole year. (please read orv.) like there are a lot of otome isekai stories about isekai'd MCs realising that the people in their lives don't line up with the OG characters, but none of these stories ever made me viscerally realise what it was probably like for kim dokja, because none of them had isekai'd MCs be that unironically obsessed with their OG protags, and more importantly none of them made me constantly rotate the OG protagonist in my head the way S-Class Heroine does. Han Sooyoung was right, you get as much out of a story as you put in to reading it and re-reading it and re-interpreting it. By putting so much time into S-Class Heroine I accidentally made some relevations about the other story that I was always trying to figure out at the back of my mind. Holy shit.

#i'm having a fucking moment #the perks of being an s class heroine #a transmigrator's privilege #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #you know what ill tag it too this post is as much about orv as it is abt s class heroine #fucking kim dokja #maybe i understand a little better why he is the way he is now #i cant believe this bloody story is still haunting me #the only time i read it was one whole yr ago!!! #anw one way in which ailette differs from kdj is that she has fully assimilated into this world #she loves her grandpa very much and the rest of her family and her best friend bianca #and her friend agnes too #she doesn't have all the trauma associated with the fourth wall and all its themes #good for her #anyway if you wished that orv was pink and had more romance than s class heroine is for you #please read it too

[raiha-storm65557]

Snippet: The kings jester

I laid there, holding the book over my head using both arms. My note taking was as useful as ever, from jokes my king and his family liked to their habits and behaviour. I flipped through the pages, some having poems, some jokes, some drawings. The jester’s handbook they called it. It wasn't all that wrong, it received that nickname because I always had it with me, but it's more of a notebook, really. I stopped at one page, ah… the dogs! Once, I tested a theory on soothing this family. When one would get upset, I'd simply asked, would you like a dog? Truth be told I still do that with his majesty. I’ve given him dozens of my dogs by now. They are fiery creatures of my own design; he takes them to battle or executions. Sooner or later, one will have fallen and I'll replace it soon enough. But my kings second daughter didn't like them at all. The first time I asked her, she hadn't even seen them yet, but she looked horrified and insulted, I had to save myself by saying she was right, elegant cats fit her more than some bloodhounds. The king sat himself next to me, his hand rested next to my head, he must be in a good mood to not scold me for laying so carelessly. Yet again I am a jester, it is expected of me to be a fool. We joked and chatted. "A dog, my king?" I teased, offering one like a mere drink. "HA! I should just lock you up and take all of your dogs for myself right now!" he responded, smiling brightly, joy in his eyes. It only took a second for me to think and close my book, smiling. "You'll have to catch me first." I smirked and bolted out of the room, hearing him laugh. Soon enough he got up to go along with my silly game of tag.

---x---

I don't remember what had set me off but it wasn't him. This game of tag was no longer a game and it was not because of anything he or I had done. I ran, feeling how I trembled and shook. Down to the cells I went. They were a perfect hiding place.

Thick grey stone walls, metal doors with only a small slid as a way to look into the cells and even those could be closed. Total isolation. No one would want to go here. I knew how to open them from the inside, they had one flaw and no one but me knew of. Every door had at least one flaw. I noticed a figure following me and I bolted into the first free cell, hearing the door lock behind me. I squeezed my mouth shut using both of my hands, my whole from pressed together to be as small as I could be, huddled together against the door in hopes that if someone were to look in, I'd be in the dead spot of their vision. I felt my own breath against my fingers, quick and unsteady, was I hyperventilating? The sound of the slid opening filled my ears. I almost didn't dear glance up but when I did, I was meet with the kings’ eyes staring down at me. Those yellow-orange eyes that I'd learned to respect... He looked calm, he wasn't saying anything, did he know I was hiding? He already knew better than anyone that I could free myself from these, no any cells. He looked to his left and a spark of rage fill him. He looked down at me again in a way that said "don't worry about it" before closing the slid and leaving me by myself. I didn't dare move...

Tag list: @shesadollette I posted it, you happy now? Also @kaiflameheart since you like king stuff

#writing snippet #jester oc #king oc #not a prompt #writing #original work #king stuff #fyp #I know how to tag posts yes #random thoughts #I've had this in my head since I woke up #royal x servant #fantasy

[abeinginsand]

you're THE sparrow blog so him, but I'm also rly curious what you think of lark and normal?

Smiling at that compliment, thank you for thinking so!! Makes me very happy hehe!! :D Sparrow, my beloved <3 [was surprised by this] [<--same person drawing/talking about sparrow every other day asdksadssea ] Also thank you for the Sparrow ask as well @lex-the-lesbiann :) I'm back from work so here's the bingos! I rambled mostly about Lark and Sparrow but do mention Normal a bit more in the last two paragraphs. Sorry this took so long! Sparrow:

Lark:

Normal:

I liked how energetic and bold Sparrow and Lark were in season one (and silly haha). Took me a bit to understand what the parenting issue was (or atleast part of the issue) at first? But eventually I got the vibe of not knowing how to deal with anger part as well as that the twins may benefit from a different style of parenting in general. One that Henry struggles to do (as shown with how Darryl and Glenn do manage to connect with the twins a bit by being somewhat playful/competitive).

We are missing a lot of Mercedes point of view on stuff and I wonder if maybe she has an easier time being playful/competitive? I like to think they get some of their mischievousness from her. Both parents did work together to set up a chore based dnd campaign for their kids to play for example. Its brought up in detail in the season 1 patreon newsletter...think its very cute and proves that they are definitely trying to better engage with the twins interests.

I felt for them all as they got tossed into the adventure and the family bond was put to test. I think the reason I'm more attached to Sparrow is due to his interest in drawing, fascination with wolves (and power), and especially his struggles with having to be a mediator between his loved ones. While I do not know much about wolves, I did love cats SO much as a kid that I wanted to be one as a job. I did not understand jobs as a concept yet haha. I'm sure if I was offered some way to be a "love" cat for greater good when I was a pre-teen...I would have said yes before Henry even finished talking lol. Wild shape is such a fun spell (and shapeshifting magic in general).

About the "so mean" square, I have seen a few harsh takes about adult Sparrow. I think a part of why Sparrow gets scrutinized so much is because we get most of the scenes from Normal's view (since he's one of the main characters). And for some reason, (maybe they were both super close in between seasons growing up?)--Normal seems to focus on his father's reactions much more heavily than his mom or uncle. Even though both Rebecca and Lark have also shown to either not like the mascot interest that much ("let me teach you something more useful" -Lark ep 1) or Rebecca being concerned (like his dad) about how Normal's going about it. Both his parents are concerned about the poor hygenie especially because it could make him sick after all.

And even in the calzone conversation, Sparrow explains that a lot of his reasoning comes from worry (and his own past). He doesn't want Normal to get hurt, physically or mentally...and especially doesn't want him to be hurt in the same ways he was before. Were his words harsh? Yeah, he was also drunk and being influenced by a eldritch god too. He wouldn't have said that out loud otherwise and clearly he has never said that before otherwise Normal would not have been that shocked. Sparrow does love both his kids and he's trying really hard (in my mind at least). I think it'd be great if they could all talk again at some point. It would be a nice start to understanding each other better. :[

This isn't explicitly stated but I imagine both the twins were bullied in the various schools they went to. As a unit, they were comforted with each other and quickly felt like others weren't worth there time. They'd rule the world someday, get strong enough so others would not dare to bother them! Which leads to the fires and fights and I think the rumors probably stuck from back then too. Sure, Sparrow comes back vowing to be a lovewolf and actively tried to be nicer (while still mischievous)...but I doubt their classmates would be accepting of the change. Not instantly anyway, but Sparrow is stubborn and keeps on trying for better or for worse which...takes a big hit to his self-confidence, self-love too.

And in contrast, I think Lark stops caring all together about outsider opinions. He cares about his family and friends and anyone else can either get out of the way or put their fists up if they have an issue. He's got an apocalypse reversal to work on! I think...both are angry at the world but Lark embraces the anger--hides behind it while Sparrow feels like he must pretend his anger doesn't exist at all. Unless he is masquerading as Lark...then well suddenly its easier to express it, to not be so scared of it--because he isn't scared of Lark ya know? No matter what, they have each other's backs.

Anyways, I will get to the point haha. The oak-garcia-swallows family is precious to me and I'm often thinking about their relationships with each other or to themselves. I focus most on Sparrow yeah but I do love Lark and Normal too! Specifically for Normal, don't have much else to add but I love his little facts a lot-- marching band cover enthusiast, the mens wear, the fanfic writing etc.

I liked Taylor and Normal right away when I started s2 while both Link and Scary took me more eps to warm up too. Its fun to see them all bouncing off each other when things are silly but pretty compelling in the tough times too (in recent eps). Speaking of Taylor and Normal--they don't get along that well, but I like to write scenarios where they are close friends! They are a very silly and creative duo to me.

#dndads #sparrow oak garcia #lark oak garcia #normal oak swallows garcia #abeinginsand talk tag #dndads s2 #ask meme #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers

[blood-injections]

you should tell me about the band au i'm so fascinated by the band au

YES I SHOULDD I FINALLY HAVE WIFI BACK(hopefully it doesnt disconnect Again .its been a frustrating week) AND I CAN FINALLY BRAINROTPOST ABOUT IT OKAY SO

Where to start lets seee. This au is at the like. "Google docs loredump but ive been obsessed with it enough that ive been drawing and ive written a couple little silly but not quite significant bits" stage still lol. Theres funkobra and jetpoison but the funkobra is like SLOW slow burn theyre just weird gay besties that fuck around and make out sometimes but arent actually Together in any way so theres this horrible tension and theres bits of like. See kobras a little slut so hes being gay with sandman and show pony and even an oc that has his own band and so the funkobra is. They dont know why the tension is like that until like. The literal last chapter when they're . Ohhhh shit. We GAY gay. That makes sense. At least thats the plan. The jetpoison is a lot less slow lol they meet and are like ooh you pretty and yeah.

So the first like half of this au is set in the city and actually its less of a fab four band au and more just Kobra's rebellious punk phase au because its focused around him and the Band isnt all four of them together until like. Way on in the story. Poison is even a sort of antagonistic foil character until then too. Because hehe venom sibling angst and theres a few moments where its poison thats the catalyst of Kobra's like. Character growth via spite. Also this au is kobra kid 🤝 jet star being some badass motherfuckers like damn.

So they're in the city, Kobra's like seventeen, not Kobra yet, knows hes trans but not a word for it and isnt out to Poison but Poison Knows enough that hes like. 'Hey i know you dont like this' whe they have to dress to a code or something, and they cae up with a name he likes when he was like way younger bc he hated his deadname so hes already Koda. But hes never been like hey I'm a boy. Poisons a couple years older and works a lot because its just them so he has some office job he hates and the city is on his ass for crow training or something which. He really doesn't want. Because hes in no way loyal to bli hes risking a lot just by keeping himself and kobra off the pills and keeping bli from realizing that. He isnt thinking of being a rebel yet or getting kobra out like in most fics or headcanons no its kobra that ends up dragging poison out. Poisons super overprotective to the point of being a asshole about it because its just them and hes seen too much and knows that you cant get away with getting into trouble forever, and kobras always getting into trouble, and better living has a eye on him because hes autistic and also poisons like labelled as Kobra's caretaker by the city since its just them, and bli is also on poisons ass with that because they want kobra for some kind of test because hes aging out and wont be like a minor and they want to 'fix/cure' him. So poison worrys, poison babys him, because his only goal is to keep kobra safe however he can because hes fucking terrified that his little brother is going to be taken away and hes seen what people come back as when bli takes them to be 'fixed.'

And kobra gets this, he does, and he loves his brother, but he hates him, he hates it, he feels trapped and coddled and between poisons sternness and what the city wants with him and even the city regulations on how he as a female has to look, he feels he has no freedom or privacy and hes cooped up as all hell. So he gets into trouble. He sneaks out no matter how poison tries to keep him from it or ground him, he sneaks out and hides his hair and steals poisons clothes and goes and bes a boy where he can because to the city his days are numbered and hed rather risk it all to have a little fun every night and just be himself than live some boring lie like hes medicated and obedient like everyone else. He doesn't want to rot like that. Poison wants to keep him safe, wants to keep him alive, but Kobra wants to live. Because his mindset is a very reasonable one of 'whats the point of being alive if you're miserable,' but not in an 'i want to die because i am miserable' way but in an, 'out of pure fucking spite, i will change my circumstances, i will be what i want and i wont be miserable and maybe i will die trying but i will have died being happy' way. Because this kid is running on pure spite and rage and envy, of his brother, of friends, of killjoys, of martyrs. Hes angry about it all, Poison is just scared. UGH. me when the venom siblings. hghhdfjdjs.

So he sneaks out, stirs up trouble with street kids and droids and Show Pony, who legit sneaks into the city every so often just to cause chaos and stir up rebellion in the streets. This fic can pretty much be explained as: show pony is pete wentz and the battery city rebellion is the 2000s emo scene. They know everyone and they've got their claws in every little crevice. The suitehearts probably exist because of them, its their actions that domino to what ghouls doing when kobra meets him, and its how they meet that causes them to become friends and start a band, and it all traces back to Pony, its hilarious.

So he meets Ghoul and Sandman, because they're street gremlins together, and they jam a lot and basically play protest songs on the street with people watching out for crows in case they need to scatter and its just Sandmans bad singing and playing a diy guitar while Ghoul drums on some buckets, and sometimes Crab is there with an actual bass but he isn't that good lol. But its punk its to be expected. So he becomes friends with them and when they realize he can sing theyre like omg you should jam with us. And hes like ehhh but eventually does and realizes he loves it. And as time passes they all get more skilled and protest songs in the street turn into actual shows at underground clubs and like, these speakeasys that hide just under blis noses. And being a band is hand in hand with being a juvie halls because if bli was to catch them they'd be so fucked, so if you play music you might as well participate in all the other rebel stuff, and they do, kobra does, he becomes known and the makeshift band of fab four/suitehearts members before theyre the conventional weapons becomes known, he comes up with the name Kobra as a rebel name and hes surrounded by people that treat him like the boy he is.

Meanwhile his relationship with poison is getting more and more strained. Poison is getting desperate and starts trying to follow kobra when he sneaks out but kobras really good at losing him. When kobra is home hes hardly talking to poison anymore. Then some Shit comes. Poison finally manages to follow Kobra to his destination, and its on a night that the bands show is a big fucking dangerous distraction that they purposely gave bli a tip about. So bli storms the concert and the juvie rebellion uses the distraction to break recently caotured killjoy prisoners out of prison. Jet Star is among them.

So poison finds this concert, his quiet little sister up on stage, singing, with a buzzcut hes been hiding. And he storms throigh the pit to up to the front of the stage and kobra sees him and his singing falters and poisons pissed, he expects kobra to be pissed that hes here, but no, kobra looks fucking horribly terrifed at the sight of him and that makes poison falter in turn. And then better living fucking busts in, stun guns firing, and poisons in total shock and kobra grabs him and he ends up running from crows with the band until they get to the underground and its just. A mess. The killjoy prisoners arrive and this is like. Halfway or more through this story and the fab four are finally all in one place. And their band doesn't even exist yet.

Anyway poisons in on it all now and has whiplash and like, well kobras not stopping because his brother knows about the band or rellion or his being a boy, and actually poison sees the change kobra fucking made with that show and is sympathetic to the killjoys and oh that one is really pretty and so theyre terrified but actually pretty supportive of it all and so more time passes and kobra just starts. Dragging them along to practices and stuff. And they find themself learning bass and getting involved with the rebellion and then joining the band when they play and theyve just. Become party poison at some point. Jet star got back out to the desert before long but poison taked to them a bit and totally likes them. I havent planned what happens to make them finally leave the city, but poison, kobra and ghoul all leave to become killjoys, the band is just theirs now and they need a guitarist and like pony steps in sometimes and other friends but they don't have a permanent one. Poison reunites with Star and they vibe and shes hanging around a lot and just. Joins the band somehow. And they become the fab four and the conventional weapons and yeah. Thats the bones of it. Theres so much more and little things 💀 Oh and Ghoul and Jet are both spanish speakers and im rusty but its getting me learning and stuff again so im actually writing their spanish bits out and the venom sibs learning it and its honestly so fun. Star cursing out a exterminator in spanish is. Whew.

#the conweps

[greypetrel]

Hey!! <3 For the writing questions, 4 (in Italian or English or both c:), 19, 26, 36

Hello there! <3

Ooooooooooooh number 4 is such a cool question! Thanks for asking it!!

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

I love ideophones, onomatopoeic words that sounds as the thing they're describing. LOVE THEM.

Croccante (crunchy), in italian, it just gives you that idea of crunchiness when you say it! /krok-KAN-teh/ Sibilo/Hissing (meaning the same thing), you need to hiss to pronounce them? Wonderful.

Give me some well-done allitteration and I'll be yours forever, also don't let me start talking about Coleridge who was a genius in giving sound to his poetry ("furrow followed free" *swoons*)

I also love big, altisonant and funny-sounding words that takes too much time to say, or, as a person who studied philology, words that have history to them.

Pantagruelism (buffoonery or coarse humor with a satirical or serious purpose : cynical humor ) (also buffoonery is a great word) Boycott (to engage in a concerted refusal to have dealings with (a person, a store, an organization, etc.) usually to express disapproval or to force acceptance of certain conditions) who comes from the name of an Irishman that just... Decided to stop paying taxes to the English.

As "Feral" in the sense of words I can't stand... anything with a "squelchy" sound (squelch is another onomatopoeic word... But it's a kind of sounds that triggers me and I can't stand xD). "Squelch", "Moist", in italian "Ciuccio" (EEEEW. Ciuccio is probably one of the words I find the most horrible ever. PLEH. /TCHOO-tchow/ . I repeat. PLEH.)

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I started very early on as a hobby. In my family we all write little silly stories for funsies, so I just... Followed the example and wrote my own. I think I started writing prose along with comics (a friend and me used to draw little comics one for the other). I came to an abrupt stop with prose in my early 20s: I started playing GDRs that worked with writing what your character did... And it was fun, but I was getting problems with Anxiety, very stressed, and a couple of bad comments convinced me my prose was boring and hard to read. I felt EXTREMELY self-conscious about it and stopped with prose whatsoever, just stuck to comics and screenwriting where I could rely on drawing. I got back to prose... In September, with Dragon Age fics. It's being a difficult and busy period, but I still needed some creative outlet. So I started to write because it's quicker than comics, I can do it on my phone, with zero instruments to bring along and needing no space. It was just for my own consumption, when inspirations stroke or I played something that left me with a "Yes that was good... But I want MORE of it. I think the first think I blorted out was this Trespasser piece (it's longer on my file, there's an extract). I started to write pieces here and there... And then thought it would have been nice to have a place to put them all in order. And sent a request to AO3. (as a person who once said "No I could never write fanfiction!". Look at us, little me, we're getting better!)

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Massively daydreaming, doodling things, roleplaying them in my head. DnD alignments and personality tests GREATLY help me to get to know them better (MBTI works fine as guidelines, as Tarot cards and even Zodiac Signs. Don't believe in Astrology, but as a personality test it's fine enough). Listening to music and imagining scenes and scenarios on it. Whatever works. I get out when I need to focus on other things, mainly I change the playlist. xD

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

I know passion and believing in my opinions and standing up and making them heard. I know sadness and melancholy, I know of crippling anxiety and being scared and feeling little... And how to live with it. I know blood does not run thicker than water, and that sometimes your family is not the one you're born with, but the one you find for yourself. I know of distances, and that they don't really matter with the right people, not today, not with internet. I know kindness even if it's still a work in progress. I know my mistakes and of trying to learn from those and getting better. I like to think I know of books, or that I am enthusiast enough to reference them and take inspirations from dead authors, lore and mythologies, finding patterns and recurrencies. I know of sailing and the sea, and I'm lucky to know what it feels like to have an animal choose you as its companion.

... And this is getting sappy and too lyrical so I'll stop. Oh, I know when I'm getting sappy too!

#writer ask #greypetrel replies #writing #Believe it or not I could have gone on longer about words I like uwu

[azpher-omega]

Think I have to call it quits to a weekly post, so instead let's just do a Blender one, because that's what at least half of it would be anyway.

So... not gonna lie, this model is looking scary good. Like, 'actually this might work on its own' sort of good.

Well... when I fix it.

The ultimate litmus test to me will be if it can replicate some of my comics expressions. Because, like, I need silly faces. Its not my comic if there arent silly faces.

I've been mostly working on the rigging, and, good news! I'm hip to drivers and custom properties now! Yeah, I have no idea why no one could explain them to me correctly. They're so simple. I 100% bet the reason it never worked was because of the local-world axis distinction and not being aware of the ability to change the axis youre working with, or that they exist at all.

Here's a neato gif I made of some progress:

By the way, that's not the gif lagging. It is actually that slow to open the mouth.

Which brings me to bad news... I think my computer is finally too weak for me to be able to do all this not-frustratingly. I built it, what, 6 years ago? I think longer even. It was a good, mid range rig, but now, if I want to upgrade, I would basically need to replace half of it because its no longer compatible with things.

On the plus side, when I do inevitably have to upgrade, my sister will finally get a computer that doesn't suck.

And it's mostly that one damn boolean on the mouth. The fast setting just... doesn't work. even having it visible and not editing it at all makes the framerate drop. And I need several more booleans for their neck holes! Let alone having multiple characters talking. It's not impossible, just, frustrating. And if it's frustrating, It simply isn't viable as an alternative to screenshotting the models and drawing over them.

Gonna put a cut for rambling about drivers, aka boring number crunching. It's actually pretty fun to me but that's because I'm a wierdo who thinks naming several hundred bones is a relaxing task.

So, drivers. They're kinda sick. I really wanna explain that foot curl cuz mmmm. damn. sooo satisfying. I have it even better than that gif now, it even curls inward so the outer toes are more thumblike.

Well first off what's a driver you may ask. Heck even if you do blender stuff, drivers seem not very well-explored. Basically a driver is an instruction set to tell one property to change, based on another property. For the foot, i have it so the foot bones' position on the upward axis (y location) changes the x rotation of the foot bones.

This is what that looks like. Purple is the property I want to change, var and proxyrot are the 'changers'. They *drive* the change.

Tbh I'm oversimplifying the above but most of the extra stuff is for convenience. Instead of the foot itself raising, the 'footsplay' bone follows it, but with a fixed axis, just to make it more predictable. And since adding a driver makes a given property uneditable, theres another bone riiiight above the bone being driven that only exists to let you adjust it manually. I called it a proxy bone, but I forget if proxy is the right word. It felt right.

Above, you can see the expression that tells it what to do when. It's python, which, I barely know, so I just copy and pasted how to do a minimum and max value. To put it in words, if the foot is off the ground, increase x until it gets to 0.3. If the foot is below the ground, don't change x at all. Plus, whatever the proxy bone is doing.

Thankfully I only need a proxy bone for each toe; the rest of the curling is done by copying the rotation to the next bone, then to the next next bone... (If you hold your finger out straight, rotate it a bit, rotate the next joint by about the same... you see it makes a 'curl' effect) Since that uses a modifier and not a driver, it's also adjustable, so the rest don't need proxy bones!

The bones to rotate all the toes at a given joint (I fixed them, you can see more below) are basically the same thing. Copy its rotation to all the joints. Just a liiiitle quicker than selecting them individually, setting the rotation to be based on their individual origins, and rotating.

Why did I never understand how to make these work? Mostly that 'space' option. While I'm pretty sure I understood what the local space was, here's the thing:

In this case it's not a big difference because both have the same x axis (red), but... the global (world) axes and local (local) axes of bones and various objects can be very different from each other. In this case, imagine if I wanted it to rotate on the y (green) axis. They're practically swapped! I use this dropdown soooo much and afaik I just, happened to goof around with it one day, no one ever mentioned it in any tutorials.

I want to make a blender tutorial so much...

You're already down here so I'll ramble about that.

Basically, I believe most people here at least who want to get into 3d are 2d artists. This kinda sucks cuz... I'll be real a lot of the people making these tutorials are the techbro sort... That's not per se a bad thing, it's wonderful if people who have no prior artistic experience find that 3d is their calling, but... It's often a specific sort of person. They want to make movies, realistic environments, maybe they make videos and want to do cgi for it, motion tracking, etc. etc.

To get to the point, I think most people here want to make their 2d art into 3d art. That's all. And when all the common 101 tutorials are photorealistic donuts, environments, and they get bored and go straight to a lot of dense non-beginner character modelling, sculpting, rigging tutorials... people think they can't do it, it's boring, it's hard, etc.

So my idea is a complete beginner character tutorial.

First off, the basics of blender. Maybe. To be honest I think introducing new concepts organically is better but honestly, a lot of tutorials go over moving rotating scale... and don't mention wtf all the panels are? Blender is so fucking scary looking at the start. I used to think 'dont worry, 90% of it you'll never touch' but to be honest? The biggest hurdle for me was uh. Learning the 90% no one ever touches. I think there's a big setback of teaching the bare minimum and then you try to do something yourself and you can only work with the bare minimum you were shown.

Perhaps if I recorded a really long vid of me explaining things I think are important to understand, then cutting out any that come up naturally. Then you'd still get the things I think are important, without doubling up the the ever annoying 'explains a thing 5 minutes in then actually uses it assuming you remember what it is an hour later'.

But! What would it be? I want to cover 1. 2d concept! It's one thing to want to make something 3d but I think no one ever mentions the sort of considerations that should go into your concepts... T-posing is really important! I think reference sheets are great practice for this but there are still some considerations that you only think about way too late, like 'is the mouth open or closed by default' and 'should you model necks straight out or curved by default'.

So you have a 2d concept. You know what you want it to do and have drawn it accordingly. How tf to model. (I basically just model nowadays so I wouldnt cover sculpting... but I'd mention it and give enough breadcrumbs to get started on experimenting with it... and lowkey recommend sculptris cuz its soooo cute as an intro to sculpting even if its limited) here id cover basic movement, the neglected local, world, normal concepts, pivot point options also often neglected,,, I'd probably separate sections into 'the actual tutorial' and 'things that you probably want to know' just in case people only want the meat and prefer to tackle problems as they come.

I'd also cover important modifiers like subdiv, solidify, mirror, also some wierd but useful ones like shrinkwrap and array.

Materials, shading, I'm not sure how I'd go about those. Since it's a character tutorial, probably at least how to add a texture, how to do transparency, errr. UV's are a big one... oh, also I'd discuss add-ons, cuz some are reeaaaal useful. I'm no purist, I think using add-ons in a tutorial is a good way to find out what sort of things people use and why, rather than just oohhhh its not blender lets not mention the way easier thing ... everyone uses node wrangler tho but. *leans in* I dont use it that much tbh. Why is it the only add-on anyone suggests. Even some default ones blender has are real good.

Rigging is the one I've thought the most about. There's so, so much in rigging that's a minute explanation that the only tutorial for it is an hour long. It took me soooo long to not be scared of IK's because the explanations on how to set it up are so fucking bad. So many of them assume you're making a human and don't at all convey what is actually happening and how you can use it.

And now, I feel super confident I could explain drivers and how to apply them to things. I think that's the big thing. So many explanations are... confined to their own space. This is how you make a rig! Oh, you didn't want to make a human? Spend the next 3 months figuring out tails and long necks. Oh, you want to know how drivers work? No you don't! No one just decides to figure out drivers. It comes up in a completely different vid, you have no idea what it is, you get spooked and avoid the problem the driver fixed for years, until you decided to sit down and spend hours watching shit tutorials and articles until it clicks the super fucking simple explanation that everyone dragged out into 20 minute tutorials that don't cover what to even do with the fucking things.

More than anything I want to cover what to do when things go wrong. That's the kicker isn't it. Have I truly finished a model? Or did I hit a skill barrier or problem I couldn't google and left it too long to remember what it was supposed to be finished like? Stuff like the horror of auto-keying, scale issues, symmetry...

#blender #3d modelling #3d #blender3d

[galactic-pirates]

So I have had my piano now for a couple of weeks. Watched a ton of YouTube videos, I have a request in for several theory books at the library, and I have been messing around on FlowKey.

Yeah I know zero chill.

But you see what happens is I start and then I notice something like - it’s hard coordinating my hands - and then I go down a rabbit hole of watching lots of videos for tips about that. That leads to other videos like “biggest mistakes self-taught piano players make” or “things I wish I had focused on more when starting to learn” etc. which then leads to more rabbit holes about music theory (as apparently just attempting to play what is there without understanding it is bad) and then yeah I am here.

Anyway while I was sleeping last night I was dreaming and the whole “key of the song” and “scales” thing clicked. I think I also get how the chords connect but not sure. Seriously most useful dream I have had in a while, usually it’s screaming nightmares so yay.

But it’s a bit like art. I have a lot of general knowledge floating around my head. I can look at sheet music and read it (the more complex, the slower I am but I can do it). However, that doesn’t translate to my hands doing what I want them to do.

My setup is bad at the moment and is killing my back. The piano is much too high on the Lego table so it’s easier to stand (as if I sit I am below it) but I don’t think standing is sustainable long term. I ordered a piano stand this morning and so hopefully I can move forward with proper posture/practice.

When it comes to practice though I am not too sure what I should focus on. Keyboard familiarity obviously so scales, chords; Rhythm so practicing with a metronome etc. But when it comes to songs… I’m having a bit of a logic question.

Maybe it’s because every song feels like the same approach but if it’s just a matter of practicing the key combinations, working out the fingering, and then getting smoother until I have the right rhythm - what does it matter if I practice a song marked “beginner” or “advanced”? Yeah the advanced has more notes, more movement, requires more coordination etc. But it requires practice either way. Break it down into sections, do a couple of measures at a time, do hands separately and then try hands together etc.

I don’t know I am just having a “well why can’t I try it?” type reaction. Not going to lie it’s fun to hear my own hands make notes I can recognise. Is it smooth or in proper timing? Hell no. But I have been playing only a couple of weeks and with no stand and also being afraid of making too much noise (I have an order in for headphones too) I would say my practice has thus far been hindered.

I do have a very bad habit of trying to run before I can walk. I am like this with art. I jump right into trying to draw full pieces rather than do practice studies, as it’s the full pieces that are the reason I want to draw. Same with the piano. I want to learn to play the songs I like. I don’t know if as an “adult learner” who isn’t going to bother with any tests or anything, I can get away with that, or if I am ultimately doing myself a disservice by skipping the practice of the beginner songs.

Anyway eventually I hope the lady at the music school who does piano will feel better, or they will hire a substitute, and I can have a lesson and ask these silly questions about learning effectively. I wish I could find an art teacher who could give me a course of study too. Trying to chart my own path does feel a lot like flailing most of the time.

The dream is the same as with everything I attempt (writing, art and now music). I just want to feel competent, like I am good enough.

#sam rambles (a lot)

[allbeendonebefore]

Omg thanks so much, I’m so happy i sent that ask bc it’s already helping me and giving me ideas to flesh out this fic better. i need to stop being so shy ><

and i agree with everything you’ve said. i also tend to feel like matt leans on oliver a lot which leads to ollie taking the fall and brunt of most things + taking on more than he should, since he knows ollie will pick up his slack.

but i would absolutely love to hear more if you can, please. i find ollie’s and ralph’s relationship really intriguing + i love when they can just. chill and be friends and worry about shit later

oh you bet, thanks for asking! it's stuff i like to think about and its nice to talk to someone about it (and normally i don't bite, save for when I lose sleep/am travelling and am feeling paranoid about strangers asking for personal info, sorry anon from last week! but dms also are ok for things like that because then i feel more like im having a conversation and less like im performing for an invisible audience)

and yeah ol hits close to home for me so when i'm not drawing him Silly or using him as a strawman which is most of the time (sorry), he tends to be a reflection of my own anxieties about being Professional and being Forced into the Leadership Role but Also Not Delegating it because he Doesn't Trust Anyone Else etc etc, and he tends to also be a projection of the anxieties of simultaneously defining what being Canadian is and having to embody that while also realizing that its kind of milquetoast or built on sand and arbitrary and completely made up and Not the universal unifying magic bullet it is supposed to be but what the fuck else is he supposed to do, which is a theme that i have been mulling over.... well, since i was like, nine and left the country.

likewise bert hits close to home for me because..... home, so when i write him its usually expressing a frustration at the way things are/have been, and kind of satirizing the State of Things. It is difficult for me to not make him a complete wreck and I tend to focus on his toxic sides because it's Very Personal for me, but I don't want my vent comics to be like, the only version of him out there either? it's also hard for me because i feel like simultaneously i am the person who is the first to point out his faults and flaws because i can't escape them, but i'm also the person who is trying to love him unironically without shame through gritted teeth, hahaha...

so i mean even if everything i say rings true or doesn't, it's not the be all end all of their characterization, what i say is just more filtered through Me and My Experiences and I fully acknowledge that and you're also welcome to take things in another direction. lord knows i am in my own very specific rut right now that contributes to a lot of blocks i have. [and my authority on Albertanness has to be tempered with other Albertans, remember that time all the albertans got angry at me for the song i used on the i am alberta video LOL]

i don't have anything specific to say at the moment on this and i am putting off a lot of things i should be doing but uh, check back, i am thinking about it and i'm happy to help / offer suggestions / test hypotheses. :)

#Anonymous #hapo replies #iammatthewian #iammatthewian project #projectcanada #iamp: alberta #iamp: ontario #pc: alberta #pc: ontario #iamp headcanon #oliver stanley #ralph campbell #as usual the disclaimer i dont write the canon i just play bert on tv #you wont find the angry albertans in the yt comments #because they told this to me to my face lol

[ifievertoldyou]

the long awaited wip graveyard post

i thought the title was fitting for halloween :p

this post is an assorted collection of all my old thaw wips that i deemed not good enough to post, but didn't want to just rot away in my folder, so now they're here.

enjoy !

-

the Eye post

fun fact: i used the same seven colored pencils for both the thes eye and the tommy one, i just made the grayer shades more emphasized for the latter. thought that was a neat little detail.

q's eye here makes his skin look a lil more purple

i impulsively gave quackity an eyebrow when i didn't sketch it before, and the way it turned out bothered me >:((

not a wip because i absolutely would never give this abomination its own post, but this is basically what my scratch paper sheet looks like when i want to test out how different colors look with each other, and also get a really, Really rough idea of what the final product will look like. this is the process i go through Every time i draw something serious. 😭

peep all 7 colors of the chaosduo's eyes under the thes eye practice

LMAO AND THE THES FACE 8 SECOND SKETCH LOOKS LIKE HE'S ON DRUGS IT'S SO SILLY

can you see me struggling to figure out how to wrap the rune around q's pupil? and also how to make the rune not just Completely disappear bc of how dark his eye is? yeah. traditional art is a pain is the ass sometimes, but i'm still wayy better at it.

also shoutout to @alexanderwesker for giving me an idea of what the rune on q's eye looks like, because i like being as accurate as i can when i draw stuff, so that was very much appreciated!

the part 2 to the hero's journey comic

i went fucking Ham during the hero's journey assignment, so much so that i literally planned like 19 more panels than what you saw in the original post (27 panels planned in total). but then i realized that i had like Four Whole Days to do that assignment, and would definitely not be able to do that many, especially not without burning out.

so i instead settled for the very first 8 panels that i planned (though even then, i had to abridge a lot of it, and also cut slime entirely from it, bc otherwise those 8 would have been 14 whole panels, and i think i would actually die-), since that was just enough to show two different steps of the hero's journey (crossing the threshold and meeting the mentor btw. i could probably do a whole analysis on how wesker's stories fit into the hero's journey if i wanted to, but i'm lazy rn and this post is already pretty long), and that was the big grading requirement. (i got 100% on that assignment btw 💪and my english teacher still has no clue that he graded minecraft fanfiction fanart LMAO) but this one is what i would have included if i had more time on the project, and could include more of the story, but as it stands, i made this one in my own leisure, because comics are fun to do.

anyways, with that little rant aside, i tried my best to make q look younger than quackity, and really accentuate the difference between them. idk how i feel about how q turned out though.

i'm really proud of the paneling, and i'm also kinda proud of the first frame with quackity's face in particular bc i thought it looked cool, like an actual comic book or something. but i couldn't figure out the card physics or perspective and that's what ultimately made me choose to abandon it 💔 maybe i'll try attempting this page again when i'm feeling more daring (as well as the other panels that i still haven't even drawn yet), but this wip has been collecting dust for a couple of months now so i figured i'd share it here anyway.

Palido

i drew palido a bit ago, but bro got somehow managed to get crinkled in my bag, even while literally being Inside of my sketchbook 🤨

it's not Too awfully noticeable though, especially bc the fold isn't On the drawing itself, so i might be able to salvage him and post a finished version someday... but i kinda halted progress on him for the time being bc of it, so here he is. </3

"Am I Still Even Me?"

i 1000% want to redraw this someday, just because i think the idea behind it is so fucking neat.

honestly, this one wasn't too bad at all, especially since i did all of it (besides the bones bc i think my health professions teacher would be disappointed if i got them wrong, and also the rune bc i care way too much about accuracy) without any reference, which is a pretty impressive feat for me and my aphantasia. but yeahh i think it could definitely be better, and really, this drawing was ultimately something that i just drew in class to keep myself busy for a bit bc i had way too much freetime that day. it wasn't intended to be post-worthy or anything.

but i think that the idea behind it is definitely post-worthy. maybe i'll even add a thes and/or youngerbur addition once i get more information about them and just how they've changed yk.

i had no clue how to draw the bones in that position, i probably could've done more research but. yeah no i don't have an excuse, i just couldn't be bothered that day lmao.

i was also gonna bloody q's hands a bit if i ever got to the coloring stage. like a little nod to when he lost himself to Madness. is the blood actually there? who knows, we're seeing it from his eyes, so for all we know, the rune isn't even lit up either, and he's just remembering it being so. remembering the moment he acted so unlike how he used to be.

the bones are definitely there for charlie though, poor guy...

also can y'all tell that i drew the rune in like. 5 seconds. bc yeah.

i had way more wips to share but i have literally no clue where they went, and also the tumblr picture limit is getitng close so ig that's all for now </3

like for a part 2 (whenever i accumulate enough wips to warrant a post, that is)

#i reserve the right to resurrect these wips at any time #so don't be surprised if one day you see a finished/redrawn version of any of these #thaw #the house always wins #fanart for a fanfic #my art #thaw fanart #wips #the house always wins fic #thaw!charlie #thaw!quackity #thaw!q #traditional art

[angelguk]

Going raw with jock jk 🥴

well...aw shit here we go again (literally nawt edited)

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: use of pet names, mentions of orgasms/oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, jeongguk is SO IN LOVE, yeah its soft and horny :3

There’s an edge to the air that Jeongguk feels in his chest. It’s sharp, loaded with something unfamiliar that leaves his heart in a mess of nerves, thumping loud in the silence of his room. In the distance, his brain registers the unforgettable boisterous laugh of Mingyu downstairs, probably laughing at something silly Yoonho said. The pair were always around, clambering around Jeongguk’s dorm as if they lived there while Yugyeom grumbled from his seat on the couch. Normally, he would be a little bit annoyed. Jeongguk loved his friends but he also adored his solitude (there’s also the fact that one time they cleared the fridge of all his banana milk and ate his galbi leftovers). But right now, he cannot fathom leaving the comfort of these four walls to kick them out. Not when you’re panting into his bed-sheets, skin flushed warm and a blissful glaze covering your eyes when you flutter them his way.

Nothing in the world mattered as much as you did.

“You good?” He whispers it into the hollow of your neck, delicately planting a kiss there a moment after.

The sigh you release seeps into his heart, a soft gentle sound that he longs to hear again.

“Perfect,” you quietly return, gracing him with a smile that could end wars and clear skies.

He wants to do this slowly, savour every part of you all over again. He can still taste you on his tongue, the memory of your muffled cries and beautiful tremors so fresh in his mind that it’s almost violent. But his own desires demand attention, cock hard against the line of his stomach, a need so desperate building rapidly. His hands travel slow by force, but you know him too well, knocking your legs apart so that your heat meets his, slick eagerly coating the length of him.

The groan he lets out his accidental, melting into the air as Jeongguk buries his face in your neck. In his dismay you giggle, a devious sound, as your fingernails trail down his back, digging into muscle with purpose.

“It’s you’re turn now, love.” It’s murmured into his ear, your hands sinking into the mess of his curls. You brush them away with a fondness that cracks his heart open, something wild and beautiful blooming in his chest.

Love. Love. He thinks about that word a lot. Thinks about it when you cheer for him at his games, tiny frame jumping onto the bleachers so you can see the field better. When you wack at his arm and laugh at his lame jokes. When you drop an iced americano in his hands after his tortuous nine am classes with Professor Lee. When you tug him into your arms and kiss him like you want to memorise the feeling on his lips on yours. When you look at him. When you hands slides into his, a fit as perfect as your bodies moving together in his bed. 

Love.

You.

He thinks he might. He knows he does.

He should say it. Soon at least. Before it comes out during an untimely situation. Like the time your car broke down in the middle of a busy street and when you called for help Jeongguk was terrified that you’d gotten hurt. The itch didn’t leave even after you’d explained the situation, angry honking and your voice trembling with concealed tears. He wanted to say it then. Needed to. It almost slipped out when he said goodbye, promising to come as quickly as he could.

I love you.

Would it be that big of a deal? He thinks about as your hands fall from his body. He rises slowly, moving to rummage through his drawers for a condom. There’s four left. He bought a pack of 30 not even two weeks ago. Perhaps he spent more time learning the taste of your cunt than he did on his lectures. But this was still new. Bright, unlearned. He’d just figured out that you like it when he pins you down hard, making it impossible for you to squirm as he licked you apart. So perhaps the rapidly emptying box is warranted.

When he looks back at you, you’re staring at him. The foil feels funny in his hands. He gives it a twirl before attempting to tear it open.

“Actually,” you interrupt. He halts, heart loud in his head. “We... You... What if we didn’t use it?”

Oh. 

“Because, well,” you quickly tack on, shuffling upright. Jeongguk will admit that he did stare at your boobs as you did so. “We both got tested right? And, I am on birth control.”

Fuck. He most definitely came a little at just the thought of fucking you raw. Not that he hasn’t thought about it. But before it was never an outright possibility. Not until now, when you look like an angel in his bed, your body his temple to worship.

“Okay,” Jeongguk tries to keep his voice levelled but he knows it wavers. Whether it’s fear or excitement he can’t discern yet. “We can do that, yeah.”

You smile and he drops the condom like it scales him, climbing back into your arms where he belongs. It takes a little bit of shifts and shuffles, quiet laughs and gentle kisses interrupting the journey, before Jeongguk settles at your entrance, sliding in with an ease that should be criminal. You take him so well that he nearly blows his load right there, a tight wet heat welcoming every inch of his length. He doesn’t miss the way your back arches from the back, his hands cupping the back of your hips. There’s a whine that escapes from your throat, followed by the sound of name. You’re delirious, your moans colouring his room warm. He can’t help but buck forward, lip caught between his teeth as he forces his release down. His thoughts are stuck on how good you feel around him, velvet walls fluttering when he pauses, gives you a moment to adjust, his gaze dropping to your half open eyes.

“Bunny,” he murmurs. You mumble something incoherent, which Jeongguk replies to by bucking his hips deeper. “Bunny.”

“Hmm?” 

“Look at me.” It takes a moment but you force your eyes open, gaze meeting Jeongguk’s. His curls keep tumbling into his face but you can still feel the heat of his gaze from behind them. “Good girl.” There’s the rock of his hips, followed by a sharp tug as he pulls you closer to him . You can feel him in your guts, thick cock splitting you right open. “Be good for me, hmm? I’m not gonna be gentle with you, baby. You can take it though, can’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Aren’t you perfect,” Jeongguk says it as he slips out, before slamming back hard enough to draw a cry from your mouth. “Pussy made just for me.”

Your high is right there, creeping closer the harder he fucks you. It doesn’t help that you’ve cum twice since you’ve set foot into his room. Once on his fingers, the second on his tongue. But they can’t compare to the heat that builds when Jeongguk finally slides into you. It’s euphoric, a tingling that skips across your skin, burning when he fingertips wander to your clit like they do now.

“J-Jeongguk! Can’t — I can’t —”

“You can. You said you would, bunny. Be good for me.” He hooks your legs over his shoulders then, fucking hard enough to rock the bed, the wooden frame bumping against his walls. Your moans are no longer quiet, harmonising with the sound of your skin meeting. Jeongguk can’t be bothered to cover your mouth like he usually would, too busy ignoring the pit in his stomach. He needs you to do it first, it’s what drives his hips forward, thrusts fervent. You do a moment later, your fingernails scrapping his back and his name on the tip of your tongue. He lips slot against yours naturally, swallowing every moan and mumble with love. He kisses you until he needs to breath, parting to whispers praises as you unravel around him. It unlocks something wild in his brain, the feeling of your wetness coating his cock with every buck of his hips into you. Whatever springs forth consumes him, so much so that Jeongguk nearly blacks out when his own crescendo hits, almost violent in how it slams into him. He can’t think about anything else but the feeling of the two of you around him. Perfectly wet and warm as he reluctantly slides out.

Your hearts thump in unison, an orchestra of their own, your joined hard breathing accompanying the melody. His brain is blank, bones warm and mushy. He could die happily right now (not really, though, cause that means he’d never see you again). There’s nothing but contentment bleeding through his system when he reaches out for you, comfort blossoming in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his. 

He can’t dispute it then, the second your gaze hits his. He loves you. He loves you so much he could burst with it. You smile as he crumbles, biting his tongue because the words are just there.

“Jeongguk, baby,” you say, crawling into his arms. He never wants you to leave them. “I love you, but could you please get me a towel or something. It’s kind of leaking out of me.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #au: jock!jaykay #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #yeah this not edited if u see a mistake u did not!!

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention