#but if i didn't write this now it wasn't going to happen for many many months

[araswritingblog]

Helloo! I don't know if you're taking requests but could you do the date everything characters with a player who's always biting something? Like- absentmindedly chewing on hangers or random blankets pre-dateviators but after getting the glasses they stop doing it? feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna write it 😅

(First request! I might not always be able to accept requests but I'll try my hardest. You didn't specify which characters you wanted so I just went with the ones I thought fit with the prompt. Hope it's to your liking!)

Characters: Mateo, Penelope, Tydus, Hanks, Barry Styles

Mateo

He never minded, the inanimals chew on him all the time and your teeth aren't nearly as sharp as some of theirs.

Notices the shift in your behavior after you receive the dateviators and understands exactly why; he gets that it must feel weird to find out the things you chewed on were conscious the whole time.

Won't bring it up until after you've gotten close; he doesn't want to make you feel awkward. But he will broach the topic eventually.

You don't need to stop on his account, if it brings you comfort you can bite on him whenever you want. In blanket form or in human form.

He thinks it's cute, in fact he kind of gets his own strange sense of comfort from it.

Penelope

Flustered!!!

I mean she chews on her own pens but it's so different when you're the one being chewed on.

Will very awkwardly bring it up when you first start talking. She tries to come across as smooth and chill about it, but the stammering and red face prove the opposite to be true.

Then you stop, and strangely enough... she misses it.

WHAT? What's wrong with her?! Why does she miss being chewed on by you??? You're just the super sexy homeowner who she not so secretly has a super huge crush on.

She'll eventually blurt out that she wants things to go back to the way they were before. The discussion that follows is incredibly awkward, but endearing. Revelations are made. Boundaries are put in place.

She tells you that you can munch her whenever you want, then immediately regrets ever learning to speak.

Tydus

NO!!!

Hanks

It's chill, don't worry about it.

Hank 4 definitely has a biting habit so they get it. He bites them too; it's a form of affection.

You know Hank 3 is going to be the first to bring it up.

When you stop they think they've done something to upset you; you're gonna have to deal with some pouty Hanks.

What happened house homie? Did Hank 3's cringe rizz creep you out? He'll dial it back if you want.

You assure them it's nothing like that, you just don't want to push boundaries, and they let you know it's all good. You do you!

You now have permission to bite them whenever you feel like it, on the condition that they get to do the same.

Barry

He has the same habit. I mean, why do they make makeup palettes look like candy if you're not supposed to eat them? (as long as you're not eating the makeup itself).

Never gave it much thought when you did it, but when you stopped he definitely noticed.

Means to ask you about it for the longest time but every time you two chat he forgets to bring it up. You're just so fun to talk to and he has so many other things occupying his mind when you're around.

You're the one to bring it up in the end, apologizing for the way you treated him pre-dateviators. You're sure it can't have been comfortable.

He's quick to reassure you: it wasn't uncomfortable at all, he understands the compulsion to chew on things, it's grounding and an effective form of self regulation. Though he would recommend regularly cleaning/sanitizing anything you put near your mouth, your health is important after all.

Then he goes off on a tangent wondering if his own makeup products can feel him chewing on them. Is the brush he's holding its own micro-Barry? Does he also chew on his makeup? And how does that makeup feel about being chewed on?

Suddenly you're the one doing the reassuring. If he doesn't mind being chewed on, then any other possible Barrys would feel the same.

The point is, you can bite him. He doesn't mind.

[goobstars]

PLEASEEEE WRITE MORE ROMANTIC PAINTER STUFF IM BEGGING YOU IM SO DEPRESSED OVER THE NEW ENDING I NEED SOME COMFORT AND LOVE 😖❤️

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓

summary : after sneaking into painter's room to surprise him, you're met with the sight of him making art of...you and him?

tags : romance, established crushing, painter has a body in this fic (because yes), and teasing.

note : i wanna kiss the computer now, so yeah.

painter was confusing, to say the least.

when you first met him, it was through a door sign. he didn't introduce himself; he just asked you if you wanted to see a cool trick, and you were then locked in a room with the eyefestation.

what a lovely first impression.

throughout your first run, instead of meeting him face-to-face, you were taunted by his voice or the sight of him flickering on the signs where the door numbers were supposed to be. you'd be told to go into rooms with heavy breathing or growling, and if you fell for it, you'd be met with the laughter of painter as he called you a moron.

he'd also tell you to touch the lasers that were attached to the turrets, but unfortunately for him, you were smart enough to not fall for that.

every time you turned off the turrets, or passed by a bad door, you'd be insulted. he'd tell you that you were no fun, or that you were a coward.

your first thought about him, despite not officially meeting him yet, was that he was obnoxious. he was just like every other monster attempting to kill you, and if you ever were to see him, you wouldn't hesitate to punch him.

but that thought quickly changed when you did eventually meet him.

he was hidden in a room that was guarded by a single turret, and that confused you. you had been through rooms with about three turrets, so why didn't his room have that? a single turret was fairly easy to avoid, and that turret was the one meant to keep him safe.

the room was one you easily entered, for you just dashed inside the hole as soon as the turret faced away from you. you then only had to climb a bit of stone before you were met with the view of painter's room.

technology coated his room, and not too far away from the entrance rested painter.

he was behind a black fence, and the only way to get inside his little room was with a purple keycard.

he noticed you as soon as you walked in, and if you were being honest, he didn't look how you expected him to. sure, his face was familiar, but you really just thought that he was a computer. but he wasn't, he had a body.

certain wires could be seen from his joints, and he wore only a white lab coat that allowed the metal that covered him to be seen.

instead of being met with insults or taunts, painter actually greeted you with an apology. he held up his hands as he informed you to not be upset with him, and that he didn't hate you.

of course, you didn't take his words seriously at first. how could he say that he didn't hate you, but go and attempt to kill you? your hesitation was apparently obvious to painter as he started to explain everything to you.

in summary, sebastian had told him to delay the retrieval of the crystal for as long as possible. painter was promised that if he did so, he would be able to leave this place once sebastian found a way to escape the facility. painter didn't have anything against you; he just wanted to leave this place. he was forced to mine roblux before the lockdown happened, and in his words, he just wanted to go back to painting art.

as he told you all of this, you couldn't help but feel sympathetic for him. just like you, he wanted to leave this place so he could be free.

so, as soon as he finished talking, you expressed that you didn't hate him.

and for some reason, that seemed to surprise him.

soon after you had said that, you left, and it wasn't long before you noticed slight changes when it came to your runs.

whenever you entered a room with many doors, you'd be given directions like usual, but they were different.

a lot of them were spoken in a sarcastic way, and it confused you because it was like painter was actually preventing you from getting hurt now. he'd say stuff like, "you should go to the door on the left, it's totally the safe one."

and if you would actually attempt to follow his sarcastic directions by going to the left door, he'd scream at you to not go through it. when you turn around and go through the right door, he'd mumble about how stupid you were through the intercom system.

you also noticed how the gauntlets he put you through with the eyefestation were shorter, and the turrets would sometimes stay turned off when you entered a room. yet, in the rare case that the turrets were still on and you grazed one of the lasers, they'd hastily be shut off before the gun could even shoot.

though, there weren't only changes to your runs, but painter as well.

of course, he would still mock you sometimes as you entered his room, but he seemed content with you being there. this resulted in you staying longer in his room to take a break, and eventually, you found the keycard to enter his little room.

and that's where the confusing bit about painter started.

he used to chat with you while you watched him paint, and sometimes, he'd even paint something for you if you asked. you liked the way he perked up whenever you complimented his drawings, so you made it a habit to always go into his room whenever you went to visit.

but that's how he used to be.

lately, he's been more secretive about his drawings. of course, he'd still draw stuff for you, but he wouldn't show you what he had been working on. you adored seeing what his creative mind came up with, and it slightly disappointed you that whenever you walked into his room, he'd scramble to hide his face so you didn't see what he was drawing.

so, you made a plan to sneak into his room. usually, painter had his back turned from the entrance, and he only became aware of your presence as soon as you announced yourself. this time, you wouldn't be doing that.

you'd sneak inside, grab the keycard, and open the door in hopes you were quick enough to where painter couldn't hide whatever he was drawing.

it wasn't your most solid plan, but it worked in your mind.

and that led to where you were now.

your head was slightly poked into painter's room while you eyed him through the fence, and he seemed to be invested in whatever he was doing. it was obvious he wasn't tormenting any expendables, for he wasn't connected to the little things in his room, and that only left one possibility as to what he was doing.

he was drawing.

perfect.

you slowly made your way into his room as you stood up from your crouched position, and your eyes immediately glanced over at the purple keycard that rested on a nearby table.

every movement you made was one of precision as you made your way over to the keycard, and you swiped it off the table. since you were near the door, you were now out of painter's sight, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear you.

now, you were aware of how loud doors that needed keycards were. they practically beeped as loud as they could to announce someone was entering, so all you had to do was attempt to quickly get the door open before running inside.

you took a few steps over to the door, and you let out a quiet breath before slotting the keycard inside.

a loud beep rang out, and as the door opened, painter snapped to face you.

and you got a full view of what was on his screen.

it was a drawing of you and painter, and he appeared to be holding you while you both...kissed?

he drew you and him kissing?

you couldn't think about it much longer, for painter let out a shout.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

his screen flashed back to his usual face, and you were met with the sight of a rather embarrassed painter.

his eyes were wide while light pink lines were present underneath them, and his mouth was pressed into a frown.

the keycard in your hand dropped onto the floor, and you stared at him in partial shock. did you see that right? had he actually drew a picture of you and him kissing?

you debated on whether you had just seen something or not, but if you had seen something else, you doubted painter would get this defensive about it. so, your mind wasn't just making things up; you had seen painter drawing a photo of you and him kissing.

and oddly enough, you didn't mind it.

a grin sprawled onto your face while painter lifted up his hands, and he started to shake his head. "it's not what it looks like—"

"what were you drawing, painter?" you teased while you started to slowly walk towards him, and you watched as he started to walk backwards.

with each step you took, he got closer to the wall behind him, and his back was soon pressed against it while his hands moved to rest against the wall. he attempted to look around for a way out, but it was already too late, for you were already closing in on him.

"i-i wasn't drawing anything, you're just stupid..." his words died in his throat once you finally stood in front of him, and he looked everywhere but at you. he wouldn't meet your gaze, but as you grabbed the collar of his lab coat with both of your hands, he didn't really have a choice.

you tugged his coat so that his screen was close to your face, and you tilted your head.

"then why did i see a drawing on your screen of me and you kissing? did my mind just make that up?"

he had been caught.

his hands were pressed against the wall behind him, and his body slightly trembled while a low sigh erupted from him. what was the point in denying anything? it was obvious you had seen what he was drawing, so even if he attempted to try and convince you that you were just imagining things, it wouldn't work.

"i'm sorry, it's just what i've been thinking about lately—"

"you should be sorry." you stated, but before he could even feel the slightest bit remorseful, you continued to speak. "you should be sorry for drawing those things and not asking me to recreate them with you."

what?

"what?" the question hastily erupted from painter, and you slightly laughed while you peered up at him. "and you call me the moron...i want to kiss you. can i kiss you?"

you wanted to kiss him?

were you just messing with him?

by the determined gleam in your eye, it was obvious you weren't. you were being dead serious with him.

painter stared at you for a moment, and eventually, he gave you a slight nod.

and that's all it took for you to tug on his collar.

your lips pressed against his screen, and at first, it went as well as you'd thought it would, but that was before you started hearing an odd noise.

you opened your eyes in confusion, but it flashed into worry as soon as you noticed the glitches that were coating his screen. you pulled back while your eyes widened, and you watched as painter lifted a hand to grab the side of his head.

the glitches slowly started to settle, and once they fully did, you attempted to question if he was alright.

yet, the ask faltered from your mind as soon as you saw painter's expression.

his eyes narrowed, and a deep flush was present on his face while his mouth was partially agape. you didn't even know he could get this flustered.

but your actions had proved that thought wrong.

your hands were still grasping the collar of his lab coat, and you felt your face grow warm under his stare. despite his eyes just being scribbles, his gaze felt intense. he was practically peering into your soul as the room was filled with silence.

your attention flickered to your hands as you noted how you had scrunched up his coat, and as you let go of it to pull your hands back, you were only met with the sensation of painter grasping your wrists.

his grip was firm, but not tight enough to actually hurt you. it just made it evident that he didn't want you to leave, and that idea made your mind go blank while he pulled you closer.

your arms were moved to wrap around his neck as he let go of your wrists, and his hands moved to grab your waist.

"could you do that again...?" despite the boldness in his actions, his words were anything but that. his voice trembled with every syllable he uttered while he stared down at you, and he glanced away for a moment before looking back at you. "please?"

how could you say no to him?

[solsticestxrs]

i have a problem with the "the writers didn't make spencer show less autistic traits post-prison to make him hotter/more likeable to the general audience, they did that to show he started masking more as a trauma response" idea that goes around the fandom.

explaination under the cut because i talk way too much

i don't mind when people say he started masking more after prison as an in-universe excuse for what happened to his character (if that makes sense), but i DO have a problem with this notion that the writers care about autistic people at all.

if you actually watch a lot of scenes where spencer's odd behaviors are brought up or implied, he's usually on the end of some type of ableist (or just plain mean) jokes. either from the characters or from the writers through context/sounds/the way the scene is shot.

i don't know, i think we just need to be less accepting of poor rep/poor writing and actually acknowledge that sometimes this how sucks. for 15 out of 18 seasons now, it was a primetime, copaganda, crime drama. these types of shows were not originally meant to be binged, they were meant to be viewed one week at a time, with the assumption that the average viewer wasn't paying too much attention to the show.

i beg that this fandom realizes that the writing of this show (and a lot of television, specifically crime dramas and the like, from the pre-streaming era) was not to fully develop their characters or to properly represent things like autism, neurodivergency in general, queer people, disabled people, ect. criminal minds, and most crime/medical dramas from that era, was much more focused on the cases and situations than the characters.

it does have its moments where it develops the characters in a good or semi-good way (the big game/revelations and spencer's addiction arc, hotch and haley's storyline throughout s1-5, derek's past in profiler, profiled, the lauren reynolds/ian doyle storyline, jj and roslyn, ect); however, this character development and character focused writing is not seen in spencer's 'implied' autism. (implied is a strange word to use here, i suppose, but we never get an in show confirmation [though i feel as though it's basically canon, especially with alex's comment in that one episode and the actor's comments about him outside of the show])

there are so, so many times when spencer is being used as the butt of a joke because of his autistic/neurodivergent traits. (i say neurodivergent here because there could be an argument for ocd spencer too! i personally think it's more autism than ocd, but there are hints towards both, kinda.) it's actually a bit disheartening if you realize it while watching, honestly. the whole mean girl scene with jj is actually what got me thinking about the topic of how the show handles spencer's neurodiversity. time and time again, spencer's neurodiversity is always the joke. it's always about how weird he is, how much he reads, how "robotic" he is, how he acts in social situations, his mannerisms, his germophobia.

i'm not really sure how to conclude this honestly. i could go on for days about spencer and how people (other characters, but also the fans and writers too) treat him. i really dislike the sentiment that his lessened autistic traits post-prison were because of a meaningful, well-intentioned reason. maybe i'm being a bit cynical (like with jemily and the queerbaiting in evolution) but i can't imagine that it came from a good place. to me, it seems like the writers caught onto how attractive the fans found him (during the prison arc or during the entire show, doesn't really matter) and tried to make him more conventionally attractive from a personality standpoint for a general audience.

apologies for the long post, and apologies for any formatting/grammar errors, my brain is melting and i needed to get this out of it asap. i also apologize if i got a few things wrong about how television/the show was operated in the early days, i am 16 and was Not Alive in the 2000s when those episodes were airing. i can only view this show through the perspective of someone who binged it entirely in 2021 on netflix (and a pirating website) and not someone who experienced it live, unfortunately. i love spencer reid he's been my special interest for 4 years i Never stop thinking about him

[adelarsims]

Moonwood Mill Gossip 🌖

i haven't found a list of all moonwood townies replies to "Ask About Moonwood Mill" dialogue option aside from a few that people took screenshots of, so i dived into the game code and compiled all replies into one post. would be nice of someone to add them to wiki like someone did with Ravenwood townies.

there are so many that i have never got and read for the first time now, wow!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

GREG

(0-35 Relationship Points)

I put up those signs for a reason. You'd think Sims would learn to read them.

Some say I'm mean. They say I'm gruff. A menace. You know what's mean? Gruff? What's really menacing? Life. Get used to it.

I don't like going up to the howling point with how many other wolves frequent it, but that's where it all started. Where the magical explosion happened. Curious? Well, too bad.

I hated the noise from the old mill. After they shut down, I tore it apart and dragged it into the tunnels where it can be forgotten. Now it can't be rebuilt!

Kristopher looks just like his mother. Reminds me of the old days. I hate it.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

I'm always watching.

I hate a lot of things, but the thing I hate more than anything else is a Vampire.

Vlad is perhaps the cleverest Vampire I've ever met. Don't mistake my compliment for admiration, though. He's a monster.

How old am I? I grew up in Old San Myshuno, back when the streets were filled with horses and carriages. Yeah, that's how old.

Not sure what happened to my diary. And honestly, I don't care. It's not like I write anymore.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

My family used to be in the textiles industry. My... mother was... Don't have much use for textiles nowadays.

During the Century Conflict, we captured Vlad and took him down into the tunnels. We figured we'd use him as leverage, end the conflict. But even in his youth, he was already too powerful. We couldn't hold him and he escaped.

I was a spellcaster hundreds of years ago, a master of the Untamed school. I stood atop that mountain, back when this area was simply called Moonwood, and with a group of other powerful spellcasters, we channeled the most powerful Moon Infusion spell that has ever been cast. The results were explosive... but effective. The Moonlight infused both us and the land around us. Why do you think the Moonpetal only grows atop that mountain? Where do you think the Luna Fish comes from? We made them. I made them.

I had a dog familiar named Brutus. Back when I was a spellcaster. Don't look so surprised... when I transformed, we lost our bond, and he grew old and died just like any other pet. Everything we love dies.

I won't say her name... but I was married once. When she died, I had no use for my weaker form anymore, no reason to be anything other than a beast.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

RORY OAKLOW

(0-35 Relationship Points)

If I wasn't a Werewolf, I think I'd want to be a Mermaid. Surprised? Eh, don't be. They also have a connection to the moon, you know? With the tides and all that. Did you know mermaids can stay out of the water longer during a Full Moon?

The Moonwood Collective fears their own natural state. It's like they've built a fire that they only let smolder. Why not stoke that thing and have some fun? Just keep it contained to the fire pit, you know?

What are the Wildfangs about? All right, think of fury like the ocean. The Moonwood Collective wants to avoid it. Greg is drowning in it. The Wilfangs want to go for a swim. Sure, it's not 100% safe, but can you imagine living your whole life by the water and never taking a dip?

We may not be in the same pack anymore, but I love my little brother, Jacob. Always have, always will. And I think the Moonwood Collective suits him well. It just didn't work for me.

Just because I'm all about embracing the inner beast doesn't mean I'm opposed to someone seeking a cure. Be true to you. That's what's important. Just don't try to make me take it!

(35-60 Relationship Points)

I've never had a fated mate before. And even if fate decided to put me on the list, I don't really subscribe to that being the end-all-factor in who I end up with. I decide my fate.

Even as a kid, I had a strong sense of individuality. Yeah, Kristopher is my dad, but I've always been Rory Oaklow, you know? I'm not going to change my name for some elder Werewolf. Jacob wanted to. That's his decision, and I support that.

Other occults come here from time to time. Before coming here, I'd never met a Spellcaster! I was always around normie Sims, born and raised in a standard normie family. It's strange to think about now. I wouldn't want to go back to that.

Sure, normies are great, but they're not my pack, and they can never be. That's fine. You're close with the people you connect with, you run with the ones you trust, you know?

What would I do if I ever met Vlad Straud? I'd fight him, of course. He needs to know who the top dog around here is. And it's not going to be some ancient, evil Vampire.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

I don't talk much about my past. I was bit by a dog that'd somehow contracted lycanthropy. It doesn't usually happen, so it must have been a freak accident. I was with my family at the vet in Brindleton Bay—that's where I grew up. The day after my first transformation, my parents kicked me out. They didn't know how to handle the new me. Kristopher took me in. We don't agree on a lot of things these days, but I'll always remember his kindness.

When I became leader of a pack, I realized I was going to have to open myself to learning about what it means to be a leader each day. There's always a lot of pressure to care for the well-being of those who follow me, but I want to do right by the pack.

I learned the secrets to immortality early. Most werewolves don't, but I was able to by truly embracing who I am inside. I don't hide, and because of that, I'm more in tune with my inner wolf.

Kristopher thinks that if I keep heading down the path I'm on, I'll turn out like Greg. He can't be serious. I'm nothing like Greg. I'm in control. I just don't shy away from the fury inside me. I use it. Sure, it's a difficult balancing act, but I'm killing it.

The original Werewolves didn't deny their inner beasts. They embraced the moon and its magic, and they used it for good, keeping the Vampires from taking over. I don't think the Moonwood Collective would even be strong enough today to take on the Vampires if they started another conflict. The Wildfangs would be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

LOU HOWELL

(0-35 Relationship Points)

I love me some PowerSip MIDNIGHT! I'm glad they're always fighting the legal battles to make their next big flavor. Who wouldn't want to taste "midnight"? Seriously, they must have some spellcaster brewers making the stuff. How else do you harness the essence of night?

Who doesn't want to be an immortal wolf? I hear you need to be pretty powerful to pull it off. Don't worry, I'll get there soon.

Kristopher's a pretty cool Werewolf to have taken in everyone he has. Of course, he didn't take me in... so he kind of missed taking in the coolest wolf, but hey, he does an adequate job.

How did I end up in Moonwood Mill? Well, I stole a few things I probably shouldn't have, and I was on the run. I figured nobody would find me way out here in the middle of the wilderness. Guess I was right.

So I've snatched a few things over the years. A future cube, a few paintings, some children's toys — which I donated, so don't look at me like that! The best thing I ever took was a piano. Don't ask me how I did it. That's a secret.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

The Moonwood Collective isn't really my scene. They're too into nature. Have you seen them leaning on that old tree? No fire anywhere? BORING.

I'm not sure I like the idea of Vampires. I guess most Werewolves don't... Spellcasters on the other hand? They sound pretty cool. I'd get together with one.

Not sure how I feel about the concept of fated mates. Like, ONE Werewolf? FOREVER?? That's a lot of commitment.

Greg is kind of a problem. We all know it. I don't know why he came here in the first place if he doesn't want to join a pack and live like the rest of us.

So I asked Celene out on a date, yeah. We were going for a walk over that bridge, when I heard a helpless kid or something crying for help. I'm a pretty nice guy, so I was like, "Hey Celene, we gotta go help the kid." We braved going past those signs and all that, and we ran into Greg. Well, I had to try and protect Celene. She was pretty scared! So I ran up to him and suggested Greg leave us alone. No taunting or anything, just a stern suggestion. He didn't take kindly to that, and well... here we are. That's the truth of it all!

(60-100 Relationship Points)

Yeah, okay, I'll admit that I feel kind of bad about what happened to Celene. I know she was pretty traumatized by it all. She, well... we were both pretty scared. I don't know, I don't think I want to talk about it, even with you.

I'm always getting asked why I didn't take the antidote after our encounter, like Celene did. Well, I figured I was strong enough to ride it out. It was just a small bite! I guess I was wrong...

When you're the new wolf on the block, you'll notice that you certainly have less control than the others. Give it time, it gets better.

Rory was a lone Alpha until I joined her pack. It just felt right to me. We're a good fit as a pack and I like how she encourages me to explore being a Werewolf.

Who knows if I'd take a cure or not. I mean, right now? No. My pack is pretty cool. I'm still figuring out everything I can do. Why would I want to give that up?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

KRISTOPHER VOLKOV

(0-35 Relationship Points)

I want to live a lifestyle that's symbiotic with nature, a self-sustainable sort of livelihood. The plants we nourish in turn provide us nourishment and the moon ties our world to others through its energy. Some call it magic. All Sims feel it, though some may not understand it. In Moonwood Mill, we connect with the night sky. On the Isle of Volpe in the Bramblewood, they connect with the animals — at least they did centuries ago. These natural wells of power are easy to find if you know where to look.

I used to work at the Moonwood Mill before the town dried up. Please don't ask how old that makes me! After it was torn down, all of the old equipment disappeared. I know where it is... but I have no idea how it got there.

I actually met Wolfgang here in Moonwood Mill. I believe he first came here to get away from the bustle of the city, to unwind. He discovered a lot more than he expected, I imagine. Ha!

When you lose control, you lose yourself. Something else takes over and you don't know what might happen. Every Werewolf is different, but pay attention to the way that your specific temperaments feed the beast inside and try to keep yourself level.

Rory had a rough time of it before I adopted her. Even if we don't always get along these days, I'm lucky to have had the opportunity to be her father.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

I've had arguments with Rory around our differing philosophies. Part of me is happy if she's happy, but part of me is afraid the Wildfang way is dangerous. I don't want an entire pack to turn out like Greg and lead others down that path...

I think it's unfortunate we don't have more non-were Sims around. My parents dreamed of building a truly special, hybrid community here in Moonwood Mill. It...hasn't been that way since I was much younger.

I've never had a fated mate. My parents were fated to each other, which is lucky, because they were already married when they became Werewolves. I can't imagine how it would have felt if they'd been fated to be with others.

It's been a long time, but I once met the sages of the Magic Realm. My parents had some old connections there, friends from before they turned. It was interesting to see a glimpse of the life my parents led before the Century Conflict. I wonder if I might have enjoyed being a Spellcaster, but I know that leading the Moonwood Collective is my calling.

The secret passages beneath the town were built back during the Century Conflict to hide powerful relics from the Vampires and to get around unnoticed. Today, they're also an easy way to get from one end of town to the other.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

When I found Jacob, he was practically a pup. I'd heard there was a feral werewolf in those woods, and I wanted to help. Turns out, there was also a Vampire there. Thankfully, I got to Jacob before either of them could. When I found the other wolf, he wasn't interested in coming back to Moonwood Mill with me. A pack didn't interest him. Some Werewolves like being the lone wolf.

I've certainly had some run-ins with Vampires. The closest was when I met Jacob. Because my parents knew about Vlad, I've always been able to avoid him pretty easily.

My father and mother fought in the Century Conflict alongside Greg - or Greggorius, as he was known. He's one of the oldest Werewolves alive that I'm aware of. Maybe the oldest. He must be so lonely, but he nearly ruined what my parents tried to build here. They'd invited a lot of non-werewolves to the area and were building a special community when Greg returned and... well, you can see what it's become.

My parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were all talented spellcasters who fought during the Century Conflict. Me? I was born a werewolf — my parents were some of the original Mooncasters. I've always been proud of that fact.

My parents rejected immortality, and it was a difficult decision for me. I don't plan to be immortal forever. I just need to ensure someone else is ready to lead the pack before I go. The Moonwood Collective has an important past, and I know it'll have an important role to play in the future as well.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

LILY ZHU

(0-35 Relationship Points)

Jacob has always made Kristopher so proud. He was in danger when Kristopher found him, you know?

It was very kind of Kristopher to take me in. I was lost for many, many years before coming to Moonwood Mill. He's been my family. As real a family as the one I lost...

When I was a child, I was very close with my cousins, Caleb and Lilith Vatore. Our mothers were sisters, and we spent most of our childhoods together. Lilith always had a dark side, but Caleb was a gentle soul.

I remember when my cousin, Lilith, first told me she'd met a fascinating man named Vlad. After that, she started spending a lot of time "training" with him. I thought she meant they were workout buddies. It wasn't until later that I found out she'd been lured to the dark arts.

The statue in the middle of Forgotten Hollow is supposed to depict a Straud ancestor. It's almost believable, because it looks so much friendlier than Vlad does... but I know the truth. It's been Vlad haunting that town all along.

They say Greg is as old as Vlad. I don't know as much about his past, but I believe that being around on his own for that long will taint anyone's senses.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

I wasn't in the Century Conflict between the Vampires and the Spellcasters. I'm not nearly that old. Not even Kristopher was around for that, but I believe his parents were.

Of all of the Werewolves here, I'm probably the one who's most familiar with Vampires, given my history. I'm sure Kristopher has heard plenty of stories from his parents, though.

After I was bitten by a Werewolf in the tunnels beneath Forgotten Hollow, I was lost for years. I spent so much of it as a beast, transformed and unable to remember much. Learning how to control my fury really turned my life around. For that, I'll always be grateful to Kristopher.

I was older by the time I met Kristopher and learned to control my powers. That's why I'm elderly and he isn't, despite him being my senior. I struggled to determine if I should pursue immortality or not. After thinking about it, the answer was clear. I have unfinished business with my cousins. Perhaps once that's settled, I can rest.

I heard about that fateful date Lou and Celene went on. What a silly man. Everyone knows Greg is dangerous. To provoke him was just fool-hardy. It must have been traumatizing for poor Celene. No wonder she took the remedy.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

We were young when my cousins Caleb and Lilith were turned into vampires. Lilith was turned by Vlad, and Caleb by Miss Hell. Vlad came for me as well, but I hid in the underground tunnels—which is how my own transformation, of a different nature, came about. I stayed there, half feral, and I tried to make it work with my cousins when they visited. After I discovered Moonwood Mill and my pack, I learned that they'd officially moved to Forgotten Hollow. It's upsetting.

When I ran into that rabid Werewolf in the tunnels beneath Forgotten Hollow, I remember saying to him, "My, what big ears you have!" and then, "My, what big teeth!" At first, it almost looked like my grandma, but I knew that couldn't be the case.

After I was turned into a Werewolf, things with my cousins, Lilith and Caleb, were never the same again. I'd already felt they were changing under Vlad's influence too quickly, but after my own transformation, there was something natural that pushed us apart. More than anything, I want to rekindle the relationship we had as children.

Not all Werewolves feel this way, but I don't enjoy the Full Moon. I spent too much of my life out of control. When the full moon rises, it reminds me of those times. Truthfully, I'd be cured if I could, but I'm not sure that I'd ever see Caleb or Lilith again if I did. I'm too old without my abilities to keep me alive.

I spent much of my youth feral in the tunnels beneath Forgotten Hollow where I was bitten by a Werewolf. After I arrived in Moonwood Mill, Kristopher told me that Forgotten Hollow was once under Werewolf control — back before Vlad moved in. He arrived with a mob and manipulated them into driving the Werewolves out. They, of course, didn't know he was a Vampire. They even put up a statue in his honor! Then, they all disappeared, one by one...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

JACOB VOLKOV

(0-35 Relationship Points)

Lily's story is so sad. I can't imagine losing Rory or dad to someone like Vlad.

I really respect my dad. He's brought a lot of lost people together, and he's taught us how to live better, safer lives. I don't know who or what I'd be today if it wasn't for him. Hopefully I wouldn't be like Greg.

Yeah, I guess it is a little strange to be a vegetarian Werewolf. You don't find many of us. Oh well, it's who I am! Rory gets it. She'd always drool over the steaks when she was grilling, but then toss on a big mushroom for me.

Rory will always be special to me. Even if we're in different packs, she's my sister. We've always been close, ever since dad found me and took me in.

I don't think I ever want to leave Moonwood. I like the small town feel, the fact that everyone is really close-knit here, plus I've found my pack. If I did move anywhere though, I'd be interested in seeing Evergreen Harbor. That's where I'm from.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

A lot of people think I'll take over the Moonwood Collective as the Alpha some day. I hope that some day isn't too close. I could do it, but why would I when dad's still around? He's such a great leader.

Ever since I was little, dad has taught me to control my emotions. I'm grateful I haven't had to learn the hard way.

Dad has always taught me that non-were Sims are to be protected. I don't blame them for being afraid of us, given the history and the Vampire propaganda. I hope that some day they'll see us for who we really are as an occult though.

I know a lot of people are angry with Greg, or afraid of him, but I just feel sorry for the guy. I heard he had a fated mate that he lost. That has to be tough.

Dad says that when he found me, I was being hunted by a Vampire. Pretty scary stuff. I'm too young to remember a lot, but one thing I do remember is the smell. I can usually smell when one's nearby.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

I was born in Evergreen Harbor. I don't remember much because I was pretty young when I left. Dad says that maybe I forgot what happened for a reason. I remember that there was a fire... and that afterwards, I was lost in the woods for a long time.

I don't like to dwell on it, but I do have flashes of memories from when I was lost in the woods. I knew so little back then, so a loose Vampire and Werewolf was the stuff of nightmares. Sometimes, I wonder about the Werewolf that bit me. Did they just lose control? Were they scared? I'd like to meet them and let them know that I'm happy now.

I don't think I'd want to take a cure even if someone offered it to me. I'm part of a pack, and that means a lot to me. Don't take family for granted.

Throughout my childhood, dad was my pack leader. Sims always ask me if that was weird. He didn't treat me any differently than any other member. We all follow the pack values. I'm just like everybody else. At least, that's how I see myself.

I didn't grow up with someone my age around. Still, I've always thought the concept of fated mates was really romantic. Imagine, another Werewolf fated to be only with you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

WOLFGANG WILDER

(0-35 Relationship Points)

Oh, I love books. Histories are my favorite, though I've never felt quite talented enough to write one. No, I stick to my fiction, though I always write with the intention to teach.

I made it to the ocean once. I always thought it would be romantic to throw a message in a bottle into the sea, so I wrote one. Something sappy about looking up at the moon and wondering if I could change for the better. I wonder if anyone ever read it.

I met Kristopher when I came here to unwind. I was tired of the - pardon the pun - dog-eat-dog hustle of the city, and we became fast friends. He started talking to me about certain harmful stereotypes, how so many others see Werewolves — enough that I was intrigued.

I'm not the only person around here who grew up in San Myshuno, but I am the only person who came over within the last few decades. The city life wasn't for me. I wanted something more close-knit. A pack, if you will.

Here in Moonwood Mill, we make do with what we have around. Turning an old factory into a library, for example. We've got a lot of ingenuity.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

Greg is a living fixture of history, a reminder of darker times, and a warning for those who forget the value of control. He long ago gave into his rage and lost himself in it. It's a sad tale.

Kristopher believes that when you are in control of your emotions, you are the truest version of yourself. It allows you to act in a way that best represents your personal ideals and motives. It was this philosophy that piqued my interest in the Werewolf lifestyle. I would never had made the change if it wasn't for him.

If I could go back to how things were before I arrived, would I? No. I have a family now. They're my pack.

My favorite moon phase is the Waning Crescent. For Werewolves, it bestows the gift of logic. I find I can read books far faster than during any other moon phase. I can't think of a better way of spending the night!

Now that we're closer, I'll let you in on a secret: I am Vulfgang Mulder, the author. Not many know. I want to live the quiet life, and I don't want to draw attention to Moonwood Mill, so I keep my real identity secret.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

The Wildfangs are young. The pack hasn't been around nearly as long as the Moonwood Collective, nor is it as rooted in history. The Moonwood Collective goes back to the very first Werewolves. The Wildfangs should learn from history's valuable lessons — lest they go down a dangerous path.

Did you know that the very first Werewolves were Spellcasters? It's true. There were many ways Spellcasters attempted to fight back against the Vampires, and Werewolves were the most successful attempt. It's fascinating stuff if you can find ways to read up on it!

After losing the war, the Vampires launched "Operation High Fang" with the intent of using propaganda to turn general sentiment against Werewolves. My books do the opposite. They encourage readers to view Werewolves in a new, more favorable light - one that I feel is more authentic to who we are as an occult.

I find the entire, forgotten origins and the ongoing plight of the Werewolf fascinating. I wanted to be an advocate for them, to reorient their image in society, and so I asked Kristopher to change me. I couldn't write on something so intimate unless I truly experienced it myself.

Reading Werewolf-themed books is one of the best ways to learn the secrets of the Werewolves. You'll discover quite a lot, especially if you have the ability to read between the lines...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

CELENE LÓPEZ

(0-35 Relationship Points)

I love WE'RE Living Magazine! I've been reading it since I was a teen. I figured out who its audience really was, and that kickstarted my journey to Moonwood Mill!

Why move to Moonwood Mill? I'm not sure if you can tell but I've been obsessed with Werewolves ever since I was a kid, and I figured out that there were Werewolves actually living here!

My favorite book genre is romance and my favorite books are always about Werewolves, so obviously, my two favorite books are "The Wolf Next Door" and "Packs and Prejudice." And between you and me... I've met the author!

When I was a kid I had ridiculously long hair. As a teen, I really went wild experimenting with it. I've had perms, highlights, lowlights...  I got really good at dying hair. Sometimes I try and talk the Werewolves in town into letting me dye their fur. It's a very different texture, but I've become an expert at the art. Honestly, the hard part is getting them to stay still...

The Grimtooth Bar stocks a lot of meat. You can imagine why...

(35-60 Relationship Points)

It's not that I've always wanted to run a bar, per se. But opening the Grimtooth Bar felt like a great way for me to be part of this town, get close with the locals, and still keep some distance from the hairier nature of it all. After my run-in with Greg, it seemed like a good compromise.

Going on that midnight walk in the woods with Lou started off romantic, but when we saw Greg's warning signs I wanted to turn back. Of course, he just had to show off instead. It didn't turn out great for either one of us. I still don't like thinking about that night.

Take my advice, stay away from Greg. He isn't like the other Werewolves around here. He's dangerous. They put those signs up for a reason. The other Werewolves don't even like him.

Sometimes I wonder if I turned into a Werewolf if I'd have a fated mate... I certainly think it'd be romantic!

I don't know how Jacob is a Vegetarian and a Werewolf. It's an odd mixture.

(60-100 Relationship Points)

After I got bit, I contracted Werebies and I knew I didn't have long before I turned. Kristopher knew I wasn't ready and directed me towards a remedy. It wasn't too hard to concoct, and I now have some on hand at the bar at all times. I want to help others who find themselves in a similar state.

I know the remedy for Werebies, but I don't know the cure for lycanthropy. There's a difference. Kristopher taught me that Werebies is much easier to undo. I've heard hints that a cure is out there and it uses the rare Moonpetal flower plus other secret ingredients. I bet someone wrote it down in a book somewhere.

I consider becoming a Werewolf all the time. Cursed by magic, a creature of the night, a fated mate. It's all incredibly romantic! But then I think about Greg and how terrifying his lack of control was...

I feel mostly safe in Moonwood Mill, but the full moon can be an intense time. Most Werewolves around here seek to control their abilities in one way or another, but Kristopher told me that the moon is even more powerful than he is.

I wouldn't want to go back to my life before Moonwood Mill. It was too... normal. I've spent my entire life dreaming about Werewolves and the occult. To go back would be turning my back on a dream.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ANY WEREWOLF

(0-60 Relationship Points) or so it seems

There are two main ways to become a Werewolf... be born one or be turned into one through a bite. Some Sims receive the latter involuntarily, but you can always ask a Werewolf if you're close enough and they might agree. The first Werewolves came about through a magical explosion, but that ritual was lost generations ago—and I believe it required a lot of special circumstances.

The makeup of Werewolf blood in the child of two Werewolf parents can fluctuate. Sometimes a child's lunar connections are stronger than another werewolf child's. They'll be more naturally gifted as a Werewolf, but that doesn't mean others can't attain the same level of skill. Other times, a child's werewolf affinity might be seem to be missing entirely.

You think toddlers are difficult? Have you ever met a Werewolf toddler? Their poor toys! They always develop motor skills quickly, but it can be a challenge to potty train them.

Werewolves are physical creatures — even our young. A Werewolf toddler may not have a beast form, but they always excel when learning new motor skills.

Werewolves don't have their first transformation until their teenage years. It's an exciting but painful experience.

They say there might be a cure, but if there is... I imagine it will be difficult to create. You'd probably need to do some investigation to learn the right combination of ingredients.

If you get bitten by a Werewolf, you can always acquire the remedy and stop the infection before you turn. They sell it over at the bar. It happens more than you'd think.

A lot of recipes for helpful Werewolf concoctions use Moonpetal in them and the only place to harvest it is on top of the tall rock. Though it won't really help to clamber up there unless there's a full moon in the sky.

It's always funny to watch a non-Werewolf Sim eat raw meat. Delicious if you're a Werewolf. Otherwise...

It can be pretty scary for a non-were Sim to see a Werewolf transform. It can really affect our relationship with them.

Your personality as a Sim affects your temperament as a Werewolf. We're like anyone else... just a little more extreme. That's not always a bad thing!

Not every Werewolf is cut out to be an Alpha. You have to be a good representative of your pack's values. And you have to be able to challenge the current Alpha—which is never an easy feat. Rank won't matter at that point, just your ability to win the challenge.

Alphas who don't properly adhere to their pack's values are more likely to be challenged for the position. And if you're not the Alpha, if you don't follow the pack's values, you're more likely to be demoted!

A werewolf never forgets a first kiss under the full moon. It's a singularly magical and romantic moment.

Not all Werewolves have a fated mate, but having one can be a powerful thing. You'll discover the connection when you really get to know someone, or when there's a bit of romance between the two of you. That doesn't mean you have to end up together, however. Who doesn't want to defy fate from time to time?

Once you find your fated mate, you're fated forever, and you'll only have the one. To embrace or deny fate is a rather impactful decision.

I feel like I grow as a Werewolf during the Full Moon. Everything I do makes me a better Werewolf for some reason.

All Werewolves gain some special abilities that they normally wouldn't have during the Full Moon.

Every Werewolf knows that their fury builds faster during a Full Moon. Some Werewolves have learned to control that, but it isn't an easy ability to master.

Fury for a Werewolf feels different depending on how much it's built up... it's always there in the back of your mind, but sometimes it can become the only thing you can think about.

PowerSip MIDNIGHT is a great way to build your fury if you're wanting to transform.

Moonbathing during the Full Moon is a unique experience for us Werewolves.

Anyone can moonbathe, but the effects are particularly potent for those who have the magical moon curse in their veins.

The lunar phases affect Werewolves differently. Sometimes these effects are good and sometimes they're a little hard to deal with. Some werewolves have even managed to develop a resistance to lunar magic. Those lucky dogs!

During the First and Third Quarter Moon phases, I feel like my relationships always really improve or go downhill much more quickly. I've only noticed that happening for Werewolves, though. I wonder if there's something to it?

As a werewolf, I don't always want to sleep at night, but if I manage to get some sleep during a New Moon, I come out feeling so well rested. It's really nice.

I always feel the most handy during the Waning Gibbous moon. Come to think of it, most Werewolves are particularly handy during that phase. Huh.

I'm not sure why, but as a Werewolf, I always feel much more logical during the Waning Crescent Moon. Plus, I can get through books so much faster.

As a Werewolf, the Waxing Gibbous Moon phase is always interesting. You can inherently tell the full moon is coming, and that surge makes it so that you're a much better fighter. I love sparring during the Waxing Gibbous.

The best time to work out for a Werewolf is during the Waxing Crescent Moon. I'm not sure why, but that's always when I get my best workouts.

The tunnels under Moonwood are difficult to navigate in the dark. Then again, there are more than a few residents here that can see better in the dark than most...

The original Werewolves were Spellcasters, known as Mooncasters. After the first transformation, they lost their ability to cast anything. All of that magical affinity was directed internally, and that's how it remains to this day.

(35-60 Relationship Points)

Howling is the moon's song. Dogs know this. In fact, the first spellcasters learned this magic from their canine familiars.

A long time ago, before there were Werewolves, a group of Spellcasters frequented this area. They liked to use the howling point at night to call upon powerful untamed moon magic.

The moon doesn't just affect Werewolves. During a full moon, Mermaids can stay out of the water longer, Vampires gain power slower, and Spellcasters are more successful with their spells.

Between Spellcasters, Werewolves, and Vampires, Spellcasters are the eldest group. Vampires and Werewolves originated from them.

(only during full moon, any werewolf and Moonwood Mill townie)

I always love how the night sky seems brighter during the full moon. It's romantic, really.

If you moongaze before heading to bed, they say the moon will grant you a special dream.

Does anyone really know what the moon is made of? It could be cheese! Why are we discounting cheese?

You can't see as far into space with a small telescope. To really see the galaxy, you'll need a larger one. Some of the best Moon Prints come from the big, fancy telescopes.

I'm not sure how the lunar statue in Moonwood Mill stays in sync with the moon. Maybe it's magic, or maybe someone is much more mechanically savvy than I am!

They say that during a New, First Quarter, Full, or Third Quarter Moon you'll become better at fishing. Fishing is such a superstitious hobby!

Catching a Luna Fish is rare. If you do, however, there are some great benefits from grilling it up and eating it. You'll gain moon-infused natural energy, and you'll increase your athletic prowess tenfold.

Locals know the tunnels beneath Moonwood Mill as "the Underground." It's been called that for as long as anyone can remember.

Strange things happen in Moonwood Mill during a full moon. It's one of the best times to explore. It's also somewhat dangerous to be out and about.

It's always the darkest out during the New Moon. I can't count how many times in the past I've stubbed my toe on something in the dark.

(only during full moon, only Rory, Lou, Kristopher, Lily, Jacob, Wolfgang, and Celene)

The locals say Moonpetal is a magical flower that first bloomed from a surge of moon magic. Whether that's true or not, it does only bloom during the Full Moon. If you want to harvest it, you better find it now.

The rare Luna Fish is only found in Lake Lunvik. I hear it's even more active during a full moon. If you want to catch it, you'd better fish now!

Greg is dangerous, but he's particularly dangerous during a full moon. I'd stay away tonight if I were you.

[quimzthequilt]

I HATEEEEEE when people say they wish Itachi was "just a villain" and that Kishimoto "changed his story" so bad 😭 Like no??? His "original story" didn't even make any actual sense when thought about for more than 5 minutes. What do you mean you killed your clan but left only your 6-7 year old brother alive? Because you wanted to test your strength? Because he had "potential?" That doesn't make sense. Why would he do that? It'd make more sense to go fight another strong shinobi in the village i.e. Guy Sensei, Kakashi or idk the "strongest most guarded ninja in the village," THE HOKAGE? If he GENUINELY wanted to challenge himself then he wouldn't he have done that? Or better yet, continue his massacre? Why stop with just HIS clan? Why not the Hyuugas too? Why carry out the massacre at night when most are asleep and defenseless only to be startled awake and weakened by their lack of preparation? Because it was never his genuine intention!! It's a poorly thought out excuse that would only ever really work on a child who then tunnel visioned on getting his revenge and wouldn't be able to think too hard on the logistics. Y'know, like Sasuke did. More than that, it sounds like an excuse a child would make up. Yknow, like what Itachi was. It also sounds like something that you'd tell someone to get them to hate you. Y'know, LIKE WHAT ITACHI DID 😭 If he was SO focused on his strength, why would he allow any shinobi to leave after encountering him? If he WAS just a power hungry ninja, then he'd need to be written differently for it to make sense and work. For example, maybe he knew about the summoning of the 10 tails and started working with the Akatsuki so he could fight it once summoned.

But besides that reason not making any sense, it'd be kinda boring tbh? Like what's so special about so special about a guy who went crazy and killed his clan? After the initial shock it becomes so flat that it's forgettable. But "child soldier manipulated by the system that he worked so hard for is forced by its leaders to kill his entire clan to prevent potential war save for his little brother whom he loved dearly" sounds so interesting. His story is impactful and makes him rememberable. And that's one of the reasons Itachi is so popular and placed so high in the rankings tbh. Hell, even villains like Orochimaru have REASONS for their actions, his stemming from the deaths that happened around him, so his parents and Dan's. He wasn't just born evil. Even Orochimaru's actions could be seen as a coping mechanism. That's interesting! It makes him complex, and it makes him human. It's this humanization of villains that makes Naruto's storyline so good too!

I've already said this, but I really do feel like a lot of the Naruto communities literary issues come from the fact that so many of us watched Naruto at a young age and had a set view and aren't willing to change them now despite the fact that, as children, we had even LESS media literacy. And that's so frustrating when it comes to the writing and characterization of not just Itachi, but of so many other characters in the fandom.

But wtv, what do I know I guess 😔 (I could talk about this for hours).

[auguryofjellyfish]

to wada

it's been more than three months since we saw you last, and two since we've learned about your fate. it's been very difficult. i can't begin to tell exactly how many times i've cried. and...there hasn't really been a day that i haven't thought about you.

along with thinking, i've been writing a lot too. my thoughts about your desperate battle against the world, and yourself. about your broken heart that still wanted to believe in love and goodness. how your spirit grew more dim with every brutal goodbye, how each loss left you with nothing, and from nothing you were still trying.

i've said that a lot, i say this every single time i talk about you, but i don't think i will ever stop being amazed by your tenacity. i've seen claims that you had given up in chap 5, but that's not true. you were trying, and you've never stopped til the very end.

i still have a lot of questions. so, so much i want to know about you. mundane things. more about your past, facts about your life, what you liked, disliked, your thoughts.

i want to know whether you let yourself realize that you were dying and resigned yourself to it, or if you were only forced to accept it when it was too late to do anything anymore. whether you didn't pick up the phone out of avoidance, intention, or a mix of both.

whether it was similar to the blockade you've felt against eating, and you just– couldn't. i want to know if maybe... realizing that this was insurmountable, you told yourself in one last desperate bid for control, "i chose this".

i want to know, because... even with what we have, i still can't understand why. why it happened like this. i can only wonder.

i'd love to have answers. but, more than that, i'd love to see you again. to be sad with you, to cry with you, to root for you again.

to see you happy, because these were the moments that i loved seeing the most.

i miss you.

the months i've spent loving you felt like entire lifetimes, and i still wasn't ready for you to go. it feels like a dream now. you were such a beautiful dream.

miyuri, by renitivitys.

i don't know if you would have liked that name. even if that, and any future have been lost now, still...i'd like to imagine that you would.

goodnight, wada. i still love you.

[hanquokk4]

HII, KENNY! 💕

Can you do a Lee! Seungmin, Ler! (The member(s) you want)? I really like how you write. 💗

OMG! Tysmm ofc I can!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦---------------------------------------✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦---------------------------------------✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

𝓵𝓮𝓮: Seungmin

𝓵𝓮𝓻: SKZ

𝓪/𝓷: AHH 1st req!!

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: bit of angst

TAGLIST: @itzsana-kiddingmenow @loveskz2901

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦---------------------------------------✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Seungmin unlocked the door to he and Felix's shared dorm, unaware of the scene inside.

He stepped into the dorm and locked the door behind him, only to turn around and see a crying Changbin on the couch being comforted by all the other members.

Seungmin felt awkward, he didn't seem to care about what was happening.

He took one look at the scene in front of him, and turned the direct opposite way and started down the hall to his room.

"YAH! Aren't you gonna help us?" Han yelled. Only to be met with the sound of a slammed door.

Seungmin was disappointed, no he was angry.

The day prior to this incident Seungmin was the one crying. But yet no one comforted him.

This had happened far too many times in the last 7 years. Always being the one to comfort never actually receiving it back.

It was now late at night, and all the members had gone back to their respected dorms. Felix decided to spend the night at the HyuniBini dorm to stay with Changbin, leaving Seungmin alone. Again.

Seungmin was a sensitive person, but of course no one knew that. He'd only cried in front of the members a handful of times, leaving them to believe he didn't need reassurance, he didn't need people to take extra precautions when teasing. But he did.

Seungmin wasn't mad at the members, he was mad at himself.

If only he had actually been open to them, to let them know, he wouldn't be in this situation.

He began to let these thoughts consume him, confuse him, to the point of tears.

He was now full-on sobbing, he didn't care anymore, no one was around. Or so he thought.

He was too consumed into his own sobs to hear the click of his bedroom door opening.

He looked up, only to see the saddened faces of his members.

"Oh, uhm hey I thought you guys already left?" He said quickly wiping his tears.

They didn't say anything, just all pulled him into their arms on the bed, causing Seungmin to tear up at their warm embrace.

"Minnie I'm so sorry we couldn't notice what was happening" Chan said with a calming, guilty tone.

"We care about you so much puppy we're really sorry" Changbin added

"It's okay, it's not your fault. I was the one who couldn't open up"

"Hey! don't blame yourself!" Minho blurted, adding a quick scribble to the boy's side.

"hahaha hyung don't!" he said through a soft giggle.

"Maybe we should really show minnie how much we love him!" The maknae added.

"No! It's okay haha I forgive you guys yay okay you can go now!" He said a little too eagerly.

The members exchanged a few looks, then swiftly pinned the puppy boy down.

His arms were outstretched over his head, being sat on by Changbin, and his ankles were being sat on by Felix, causing him to be completely immobile.

"waihahhit you guys dohohohont have to do this!" He giggled nervously

"Oh but we do min" Han added menacingly

And then it started, Chan grabbed the boy's side and started to squeeze mercilessly, Han mirroring the other side. Felix scratched up and down the boy's soles, Changbin dug his hands into the puppy's outstretched armpits while the others stood aside watching the poor boy go hysterical.

"NAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAH STAHAHAHHAAHAHP"

"Hyungs! Stop for a second I have something to say" Innie added

Seungmin's chest rose and fell, regaining his breath, nervous for what the maknae had to say.

"Our little puppy here has way cuter reactions to soft tickles, let me demonstrate!"

"NO IYENAH PLEASE DON"T"

The youngest began to scribble and spider his fingers all over boy's ribcage.

"hehehehheehheheeheh stahahahahahp" he let out the cutest giggles the members had ever heard.

Seungmin tried to squirm away because I.N was right, these tickled him wayyy more.

"Awhhhh look at you, your just our cute little puppy aren't you minnie?" Hyunjin cooed, now scratching and wiggling his fingers all over min's stomach.

"AHAHAHAHahahaha HYUNJihihihin STAHAHAP"

"Oh my goodness you really are just an adorable little puppy!" Chan teased, now planting ticklish kisses all over his neck.

Then Seungmin let out a sound he had never made before, a high-pitched squeak.

"ChAhahahhahan stoppp hehehehehheeh *squeak* hehehhe"

he scrunched up his shoulders, but it didn't do much.

"Did you just squeak?!" Han questioned.

"nohohoh I did- AHAHAHHAHAHAH" he suddenly burst into laughter when the ace decided it would be a good idea to blow a razzberry right onto the boy's navel.

Then the Chan blew one onto his neck, sending the boy's nerves to heaven and back.

Everybody else just started to softly spider, scribble, or just rub the places they were prior to this. Causing Seungmin to squirm like there was no tomorrow.

The sensations finally came to a stop and the members just cuddled right back up to Seung.

"We love you minnie" Minho whispered into his ear, causing Seungmin to giggle a little. "I love you guys too"

Shortly after that, they had all sprawled out somewhere in Seungmin's room, Changbin and Hyunjin staying on the bed with Seungmin.

After that night Seungmin was more open about his feelings with his members. And their bond continued to grow even stronger.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦---------------------------------------✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

tyy for reading! And tysm @kswungmxn for the request!!

[pygmy--tyrant]

merlin's role in arthurian canon is very funny & interesting to me cause he seems to tick every stereotypical 'who will betray the king' box. royal advisor. sorceror. extremely morally questionable. literally half-demon. appears to have an incredibly dangerous level of influence over arthur to the point where he can tell him to enact his very own massacre of the innocents cause he isn't sure which may day baby is mordred and arthur just DOES. not to mention that contrary to modern popular canon he has basically zero personal beef with morgana and remains pretty tight with her despite her attacks on camelot. so you see all this and you think well your majesty surely he means you harm!! but NO it turns out this weird little wizard who the king keeps around for moral support is actually the single most loyal person in court. i mean king arthur is like betrayals georg the way he is collecting duplicitous individuals. guinevere lancelot mordred morgana briefly gawain truly ALL his nearest and dearest backstabbed him at some point but not his no. 1 magic freak. he's his only real ride or die. anyway bbc merlin is maybe the closest I've seen to really capturing this dynamic

[luis-serra-kennedy]

well, I was working on what's supposed to be the final chapter and realized I'm probably going to have to split it up... there's not 9k words of stuff that will actually be posted because it's a rough draft document that includes some duplicate scenes written in different ways and a few scenes that happen offscreen but that I needed to write out just for me to reference, but still, I think even with all that cut it'll be a longer chapter than I wanted for this particular fic. I've done 10k word chapters before, but for a very different fic which felt more suited to long chapters than this one.

my bad because I strayed from my outline and made one subplot way more important and focused on. the final chapter was supposed to mostly be Krauser finally getting some consequences with a tiny bit of domestic Serrennedy, but now it's shaping up to be a lot more domestic stuff. like probably won't be more of the fluff than of the Krauser stuff, but it'll be a lot closer to a 50:50 mix than I had planned.

the Krauser stuff does tie into everything else too, it's not all completely unrelated

[vacantgodling]

not to be weird and sappy on main, but frfr i'm so glad i have found a community of people who think my work is good

[teenagefeeling]

actually thinking about it more, if i were a youtuber i would be very much like crabstickz. i would show up, make like 4 actually good videos, then a whole bunch more where im just like bitching about shit for 20 minutes then i'd stop posting for like a year then i'd start again as if nothing happened. and everyone would want me carnally.

[babieken]

I was expecting so much more from Again My Life considering lee jungi was its main character but it was such a let down...

[ariichive]

POPULAR

he didn’t realize how many people yearned for you as much as he did. and now that he had, the thought sat heavy in his chest, unsettling in a way he didn’t quite know how to handle.

cw: gender neutral, fluff, lighthearted, jealousy, slight stalking, reader has a lot of fans, secret admirers, established relationships, creepy letter in phainon's part

in okhema, there’s an npc named myrion who has a bunch of admirers lined up for her, so this inspired me lmaoo! once again, mydei's is my favorite... love writing for him

mydei₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

when you and mydei had gone on a casual stroll through okhema, he wasn't expecting to discover how well-known you were around the city.

verax leo was a mouthy lion, one that overheard many conversations in its time in the holy city.

you, wanting to stop by and see if the lion had any new riddles, were not expecting for the verax to use this as an opportunity to tease the prince of kremnos.

"the beautiful muse of the mighty prince, [name]! an honor to see you! here for another riddle?"

mydei’s brow arched ever so slightly at the greeting, golden eyes flickering between you and verax leo with a quiet intensity.

“beautiful?” he echoed, tilting his head in that slow, calculating way of his.

you sighed, already sensing where this was going. “don’t start.”

verax leo let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “oh? have i struck a nerve, mighty prince? or perhaps… have i simply voiced what many already whisper?”

mydei's perfect brow furrowed even deeper, "explain, annoying lion, what you mean by that."

verax leo, suddenly sensing the thick tension, voice wavered as he responded. "w-well, i would not live up to my name if i didn't put this in the form of a riddle!"

mydei didn't answer, only narrowing his eyes at the golden mount. "in the city of okhema, there are many beautiful antiques and valuables. often sought after. but, there's one that's unattainable, and can only be spoken of in whispers my lion ears can hear."

you blinked, glancing between mydei and verax leo, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

mydei’s expression remained unreadable, his golden eyes sharp as they bore into the lion. “go on.”

verax leo let out a nervous chuckle, but continued nonetheless. “this treasure is admired by all, longed for by many, yet it rests in the hands of one who walks among us.” the lion paused before continuing. “and oh, how the city wonders… will the one who holds it keep their grasp, or will another dare to reach?”

mydei let the silence stretch between them, his expression unreadable. then, with slow precision, he turned to you.

“is that true?” his voice was softer now, but laced with something deeper—something possessive.

you rolled your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “it’s just a riddle, mydei. you don’t actually think—”

“but it is true,” he interrupted smoothly, gaze never leaving yours. “you are sought after. spoken of in whispers. desired. it would be foolish if people didn't see your beauty.”

you swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his attention. “mydei—”

he exhaled, then, a slow, quiet breath, before looking back at verax leo. “and tell me, lion, what happens to those who reach for the unattainable?”

verax leo hesitated before answering, voice lower this time. “they risk being burned.”

a small smirk ghosted across mydei’s lips, though there was no humor in it—only certainty. “then let them whisper.”

and with that, he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before leading you away from the lion’s watchful gaze, leaving nothing else to be said.

as you walked through the streets of okhema, the whispers verax spoke of suddenly felt louder—eyes flickering toward you, smiles offered, murmurs shared between passersby. you had never thought much of it before, but now, with mydei at your side, his grip firm around your hand, it was impossible to ignore.

“you’re really letting that riddle get to you, huh?” you finally said, glancing at him.

mydei didn’t answer immediately. instead, his golden eyes stayed forward, scanning the streets, his expression unreadable. when he finally spoke.

“it isn’t the riddle that bothers me,” he said. “it’s the fact that it isn’t just a riddle.”

you sighed for the hundredth time. “it's—”

“how many?” he asked suddenly.

you blinked. “...how many what?”

his gaze flickered to yours, sharp and calculating. “how many people have whispered about you? how many have longed for something they will never have?”

heat crept up your neck, but you scoffed, shaking your head. “do you hear yourself right now?”

“i hear the city.” his thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly. “and i hear verax leo. neither of them are wrong.”

you stopped walking, tugging his hand to make him face you fully. “and? does it matter?”

his jaw tightened for the briefest moment before he exhaled, as if weighing his words. “no,” he said. then, softer, more certain: “not when the whispers mean nothing to you.”

your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he lifted your joined hands, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your fingers.

“let them whisper,” he repeated, gaze locked onto yours. “as long as they know who you belong to.”

you gave his hand a small squeeze before pulling him forward. “come on, prince of kremnos. we’ve wasted enough time indulging a silly lion.”

he let you pull him along, but his grip remained firm, unwavering. “hm. i suppose. though, next time, i may indulge verax leo myself.”

you raised a brow. “oh?”

his golden eyes glimmered. “yes. i’d like to hear what else the city whispers—so i know exactly what to silence.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “unbelievable.”

but as the two of you walked away, hand in hand, the city’s whispers no longer mattered. after all, there was no need for speculation when the truth was already clear—mydei had already won the prize they all longed for. and he had no intention of ever letting go.

phainon₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

phainon was a man that took pride in his relationship with you, always taking the initiative to show you off. he knew you were gorgeous, and was extremely lucky to have you before anyone else.

he'd often hear praise of your name throughout okhema, be it the older lady that worked the market or a young kid.

but there was an extent to how much he could take, especially when it became borderline crazy.

phainon, call him petty, often discarded the various love letters that were made for you. he would read through them and laugh at their contents. these men knew nothing about you, and it almost made him feel bad.

almost.

there was no room in his heart for men that overstepped many boundaries; and the letter in his hand was a prime example of this.

'Dear [Name],

you have caught my attention, which is an honor not many can achieve. I see the way you interact with the people of the Holy City, but I cannot help but be curious; when will it be my turn? To see your beautiful eyes gaze at me? Must I do something extravagant? I watch you, the way your eyes light up when the infamous Chrysos Heir greets you. Tell me, is it that simple? There's no way you're impressed by his-'

phainon stopped reading the letter there, irritation already seeping deep into his veins. not only was the letter addressed to his quarters, but now he had the nerve to diss him?

phainon was so lost in thought, he didn't notice you enter the bedroom.

you tilted your head, watching him with mild curiosity. it wasn’t often that he was this distracted, his fingers curled tightly around a piece of parchment, blue eyes narrowed in what could only be irritation.

"what's wrong?" you asked, stepping closer.

phainon blinked, finally registering your presence. his expression smoothed almost instantly, slipping into something more composed—too composed.

"nothing of importance," he said, rolling the letter between his fingers before tossing it onto the desk. "just another fool with more confidence than sense."

your gaze flickered to the discarded parchment. "another love letter?"

he exhaled, crossing his arms. "unfortunately."

curious, you reached for the letter. phainon's hand twitched as if debating whether to snatch it away, but he let you take it. as you scanned its contents, amusement tugged at your lips—until you got further down.

"just a creep," you muttered, throwing the letter somewhere of no importance.

"perhaps i should respond," he mused. "it would be a shame if our dear admirer thought their words went unread."

"phainon."

"oh, come now, you should know me well enough by now." his grin was all mischief and indulgence. "i wouldn't be cruel. i'd simply... clarify a few things."

"by 'clarify,' you mean gloat."

"semantics."

you sighed again, running a hand down your face. "you're crazy."

"and yet," he echoed, mirth dancing in his voice, "people still test me."

he leaned in then, voice a quiet hum against your ear. "but if you truly wish for me to ignore them, all you have to do is say so. you know i'm weak for your word."

"i'm well aware," you giggled softly which made his cheeks warm in delight.

"though i do wonder, would a ring around your finger put an end to this cruelty?" he put a hand over his heart in faux pain. though he was teasing, you couldn't help but notice the truth in his words.

"only one way to find out."

anaxa₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you were perfect, it was a fact any being with senses knew. more importantly, you were his perfect assistant. always there to assist him when he was busy with a student or to find his favorite pen.

it was these little things that mattered most to him, and he made sure your help never went unrecognized.

you watched anaxa busy himself helping his students with their research, the stack of thesis' on his desk going unlooked at.

"anaxa," your voice sweetly cut through the academic chatter of the classroom.

“i assume you’re here to remind me of some terribly dull obligation? my neglected paperwork, perhaps?”

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. “i was going to suggest taking a break, but clearly, your self-awareness is intact.”

his smirk deepened as he placed his hands on his hips. “why, of course. i am nothing if not entirely conscious of my own habits—though I do wonder how I managed before you.”

“poorly,” you deadpanned. “misplaced notes, forgotten meals, and a truly tragic reliance on last-minute efforts.”

he hummed in response, glancing at his student who wouldn't stop looking at you.

"i can help your students, you should use this time to look at the tablets and papers on your desk."

anaxa tilted his head, regarding you with an expression that was equal parts amusement and something more inscrutable. “how generous of you,” he murmured, fingers idly tapping against the untouched stack of work. “but tell me, dear, are you implying that my guidance is somehow… lacking?”

his tone was smooth, laced with that ever-present air of self-assuredness, but you knew him well enough to catch the teasing edge beneath it.

you merely raised a brow. “i’m implying that your penchant for procrastination is as legendary as your intellect. i don't wish to wake from slumber to you scribbling and muttering to yourself. ”

he exhaled a dramatic sigh, finally deigning to glance at the tablets and papers before him. “so cruel, yet so efficient,” he mused. “very well, if only to spare you the tragedy of watching me scramble at the last moment.”

anaxa retreated to his paperwork, leaving you with the student he was previously helping. you glanced down at his report, seeing unique sketches of chimeras.

"oh!" you exclaimed in excitement, leaning over the scholar's shoulder. "chimeras, i know a decent amount about them. i used to frequent the garden of life," before meeting anaxa, you wanted to add on, knowing he hated whenever you mentioned okhema.

the student perked up at your enthusiasm, eyes wide with curiosity. “you’ve been to the garden of life?” he asked, glancing between you and his sketches. “i’ve only read about it in records. is it true that some of the creatures there can work for hours?”

you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “some can, yes. their adaptability is remarkable, and they are super friendly!”

watching the student scribble things down, you continued. "even though they have a small and cute appearance, chimeras are very intelligent, understanding human speech despite not speaking it themselves."

anaxa smiled gently as he overheard your conversation, finding comfort in your voice. until he overheard another, more annoying conversation.

"[name] really is smart, no wonder professor keeps her to himself."

"yeah, it's a shame, if i had someone like [name]-"

anaxa stood up abruptly from his desk, the chair making a loud screech against the floor.

the sudden noise startled both you and the student, cutting your conversation short. you turned to see anaxa standing with an air of composed irritation, his pretty eyes sharp as they swept over the room.

“fascinating,” he drawled, his voice carrying just enough bite to make the offending students stiffen. “i wasn’t aware my assistant’s intelligence was up for public discussion—nor that any of you had the credentials to make such evaluations.”

a tense silence fell over the room. the scholars in question looked away, suddenly engrossed in their own work.

anaxa hummed, satisfied, before adjusting his cuffs with deliberate elegance. “i’d suggest you redirect your academic curiosity to something more productive. unless, of course, you believe gossip will earn you a place in my lectures?”

you sighed, rubbing your temples. this wasn’t the first time anaxa had taken offense on your behalf, though his methods were as dramatic as ever.

“professor,” you said, voice edged with both exasperation and amusement, “i believe your paperwork still requires your attention."

he hummed, completely ignoring you.

as he returned to his desk, you exhaled, shaking your head before refocusing on the student’s report.

still, you could feel anaxa’s gaze lingering—not on his paperwork or the students, but on you.

“professor,” you murmured without looking up, “if you’re going to stare at me all afternoon, at least pretend to be grading.”

[bejeweledinterludes]

i was made for lovin’ you.

OR after years of unsaid emotions, supressed feelings and goddamn urges— you and dean finally confront the thing you'd both been avoiding: how there's so much you wanna do in the darkness. and you're gonna make it all come true. tonight.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 5.6 k.

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS LOOK AWAY !!!, lateish seasons (if you squint) dean winchester x reader's first time (not virgins though), unprotected (mostly) soft sex with feelings, feelings, feelings!, aka porn WITH plot!, p in v, handjob, dean being a munch ofc (this is canon. go argue with the wall.), swearing. please let me know if i missed anything!

looking for new work from me? check out @bejeweledinterludes2, my new writing account!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

from the moment you first met dean winchester while working a case, you knew you wanted to fuck him.

which was a little strange, because you didn't think like that outright about too many men— not ones you knew in real life, anyway.

but here the stupid bastard was, with his annoyingly pretty face and those stupid, big, rough fightin' hands that could touch you everywhere, pull the prettiest sounds right from you—

oh, we're getting way too far ahead of ourselves. you shoved those thoughts away. come on, this was a freakin' case. lives were at stake.

and once the initial secret lust you had finally went away, you realized you were experiencing something much greater than some stupid crush on dean.

because the more hunted with him, you got to see not just the tough, hard-as-nails side of him— but you saw the other side.

his people side.

you got to see the way he interacted with every single person he encountered on a case, not resting until the threat was completely gone and ganked. and sometimes, when a case hit too close to home, he treated victims and affected family no less than his own fuckin' family.

and you knew from your own personal experience that he'd do just about damn near anything for the family he did have. saw the way he got all soft and sweet around kids— and after a good while, even around you.

and that's when you knew you were in trouble.

you'd known dean for years now. and nothing had ever come of you two except him being one of the greatest friends you'd ever had.

but god help you if you didn't want more.

and nothing like a quick fuck, either. no, you wanted to be there for everything— even on those deathly-quiet nights when dean's thoughts got too loud and the debilitating weight he was carrying all alone just got too heavy, you wanted to be the one keeping him afloat.

it was something dangerously close to love.

you tried to ignore it at first. push it down. and it did work-- for a while. until fucking dean started acting weird around you, too.

and now things were... complicated.

you didn't know exactly when things had shifted so much to the point that it almost became unbearable to even be in the same room as dean without either of you knowingly holding back just spilling your guts-- but god, it was worse than dying.

inevitably, one night, it all just snapped.

there was no dramatic fight, or screamed confessions from either of you. no, it happened late in the darkness, when you both were sharing a motel room.

which would have made you fond of all the times you guys had shared motel rooms in the past— you would've smiled at the thought of younger you trying to make the most out of the fact that you had to share a room with a fucking boy.

but dean was now much more of a man than ever before now.

thank god there's two separate beds, you initially thought.

now, though? there wasn't a need for two beds anymore.

because you still somehow ended up in dean's that was closest to the window.

in his lap.

and kissing him.

you were sure you were in just another one of your dreams or fantasies you conjured up to get off— but you could feel dean's hands on you through your shirt, grasping at the fabric. so this had to be real— but just for precaution, you roll your hips into dean's a little.

yeah. that sound he made when he grinds his hips up into your own was definitely real— and right in your mouth.

you knew you were probably moving too fast— but fuck if you cared. your hands sneak in between you both and trail downward on the front of dean's shirt, not stopping until you reach the hem— and your voice is a whisper against dean's kiss-swollen lips.

"arms up, de."

and dean obliges in a heartbeat, raising his arms up over his head immediately— and he's silently praising the fact he decided to just wear a t-shirt to bed.

you actually somehow had only seen dean shirtless once or twice over the years— the latest being last summer when the air conditioning in the bunker was broken, and you conveniently and hurriedly stated that you had to stay in your room the entire day—because it was so much more skin than you were used to seeing.

but now?

you're staring.

dean's looking at you looking at him— and if the motel room wasn't so dark, you could've sworn his face got a little pinker under your gaze.

but you don't dwell on that for too long. because your hands are itching to reach out and just touch— and the moment your fingers start to graze on dean's biceps first, his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a shaky exhale, fighting to keep himself under control.

because it's you that's touching him.

you're still touching him when you lean back and kiss his lips again— and dean is very aware of the fact that you still have your shirt on.

but you have to break the kiss after a while to get stupid air— and your hands are reluctantly taken off of dean's skin, much to his protest. but the words he was about to say die in his throat when he sees where your hands were going.

you grasp the hem of the oversized shirt you were wearing, tearing it over your head and discarding it in the same motion— all while you were silently thanking whatever had possessed you not to wear shorts to bed.

or a bra.

and now, dean thinks he might die.

it was his turn to stare, eyes raking and flicking over every inch of you as you're straddling his lap like he didn't know where to look first— and dean's just so in awe, he says what he was thinking out loud in a barely-audible.

"god, you're beautiful."

you can feel a blush burning your cheeks at dean's words-- and judging by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly when he uttered those words, you knew he meant it. you smile softly down at him, your voice just as quiet as his once was.

"you're not so bad, yourself.''

and that makes the corner of dean's lips turn up in a small, soft smirk. god, he loves you. and he's gonna show you that.

all night long.

dean starts with his hands, the rough callouses trailing up your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, tits, arms, back— fucking everywhere on your bare skin as he stares up at you.

but your hands move on dean, too— touching him everywhere you could reach before you go lower, your fingers grazing on the waistband of his boxers— but you look back up at him again, a silent question in your eyes.

dean looks confused for half a second— until he realizes you're asking for permission. then he nods, his heart feeling warmer than it was before.

you tear his boxers off in one fell swoop— and holy goddamn.

you stare— again. and dean's fighting the urge to roll you over onto the mattress and just taking you.

instead, he forces himself to stay still under you— because the urge to do that and see what you do next is stronger.

dean's smirking up at you. the damn idiot. and then he quietly murmurs out—

"your turn."

you'd almost forgotten you still had your underwear on— oh, but dean didn't forget. the speed at which you yank down the fabric and discard it somewhere in the motel room should be a world record.

you look back down at dean again when you get situated back on his lap— but he's not looking at you anymore.

no, the man gulps at the sight of your pussy being exposed to him— and it takes him a while to look back up at you, his voice low and rough.

"c'mere."

you obliged, one of your hands reaching down and grasping dean's own that had been resting on your thigh.

this was new. oh, so new. dean wasn't new to you by any means, and that familiarity, that bond was still there— but he was new in this sense. this was different.

this was real.

dean was a man who rarely ever got what he really wanted— so you wanted dean to get whatever he wanted out of what was about to happen between the two of you.

"tell me what you want, dean," your voice is a mere whisper. "tell me what you want me to do, and i'll do it."

dean really thinks you should be illegal. you're all he's ever wanted—and you're asking him what he wanted.

he doesn't answer right away— dean's eyes rake over your naked form in his lap, and he's got his hands resting on your thighs as he meets your gaze once more.

"touch me."

you knew what dean meant by that. dean knew what he meant by that. and you both were fully aware of the line you were about to cross. but you weren't even nervous. and neither was he.

so take your hands, reaching down and trailing a path on dean's lower torso before you take him all in your hands.

and dean thinks he might die.

again.

because you start stroking him slowly— you weren't an idiot, you knew if you went too fast at first, it would hurt dean like a motherfucker rather than feel good.

and you're just looking at him, reading his reactions, making sure that it feels good.

all dean can get out at first is your name. he had opened his mouth to say something, but that's all that came out in a broken groan. he's letting out these little broken noises of pleasure— and his head has to fall back on the shitty motel room’s headboard so he doesn't cum right there.

you keep your pace of your hand on dean's dick steady, only increasing the intensity after a few moments when you can tell he needed more— by the way he gripped onto your hip, his rough fingers curling into the meat of your skin— and by the way he was fighting back the moans that had been treating to escape his throat.

it was definitely embarrassing how close dean was to cumming already, he knew that. but he also knew it was because it was you who was bringing him there. not some quick fuck with a chick he'd met that night, or his own hand— no.

it was yours.

and that thought combined with the way you're still looking at him— in awe, like he's something out of a museum, gets him way closer to the edge you were guiding him to.

"i'm— fucking christ, jesus—"

your name along with the man upstairs' son had come out of dean's mouth in a desperate attempt to warn you that he was right there, all because of you.

"i gotcha, dean," you whisper, and your free hand not jerking him off reaches to cup the side of his face as his head's tilted up towards you.

"just let it happen."

and that does it for him.

dean cums hard, his hands clutching on your thigh and part of your hips with all he's got, gasping and groaning, letting little out broken moans the whole way down.

you just guide dean through it with your hand, watching him under you as his skin was all flushed and red now, hair sticking up everywhere (courtesy of your hands), his pupils blown out and half-lidded before shutting fully.

"y'okay?" you whisper, your eyes flicking over dean under you. his own eyes continued to be closed— and you take that time to grab a tissue from the nightstand, wiping your hand clean before looking back and giving dean your full attention.

your other hand was still on his face, your thumb grazing on his cheek now, and for a split second, you almost think dean must not have liked it, or you went too far, because he wasn't saying—

"holy shit."

the curse leaves dean's mouth as his eyes open— and all he can do is reach his free hand up that wasn't grasping yours between the two of you already and rest it on the one cupping his face.

you can't even open your softly smiling mouth to respond, because the next words are coming out of dean's mouth, his voice still raw and rough from the way you just broke him apart.

"you know what i wanna do right now?"

you tilt your head a little to the side, still looking down at dean below you with his back resting against the headboard as you so desperately wanted to know.

"what?"

dean's downright devilish smirk reappears— and his eyes flick down to your almost dripping pussy that was spread as you straddled his legs before looking back up at you, his voice still rough as ever.

"I wanna taste you."

and a strangled sound gets stuck in your throat at the mere thought of dean eating you out. maybe it was a little embarassing how breathless your voice sounded when you leaned just a fraction closer to him.

"then go ahead."

an actual growl escapes dean at that— and you don't need to tell the man twice. he's got you flipped over and pinning you down, your scorching back hitting the cold motel sheets before you can even blink. you stare up at him when he hovers over you, both hands on the sides of your head, holding him up— and he's just looking at you.

but dean doesn't stay like that for too long. his lips hit your neck immediately after he leans down enough— and he starts just attacking at your skin, nipping, biting, sucking— he draws a path all the way down, until he reaches your now sopping pussy.

dean changes his position when he does, spreading your slick inner thighs further apart and settling between your legs, wrapping a strong arm around the meat of your thighs.

but he hesitates for a brief moment. he likes eating out pussy, but did you enjoy it? his pussy-drunk eyes flick up to yours— and you're a sight all spread out for him, your back against the pillows and sitting up a little so you could watch.

"i ain't gonna be gentle. y'know that, right?"

you knew that dean had always been considerate of you, long before this night— for as long as you'd known him, for that matter. but hearing him tell you that he didn't want to be gentle made your gaze soften and a smile tug on your lips as you nodded in response.

"yeah, i know."

and in that moment, dean thinks he loves you.

well, in all actuality, dean knows he loves you— but seeing you all soft and just so goddamn pretty in the moonlight that's filtering in through the motel room window, he's well aware of the blessing that's before him.

dean gives you one last smile— softer this time. then he dives in, burying in his face and going at you full force, his tongue flat and working against your puffy, slick folds before letting out a groan that vibrates everything.

and dean was right.

he was not gentle about it.

your eyes threaten to flutter shut as dean's tounge works on you— but you force them to be half-lidded as you look down at the sight of dean eating you out like a starved man.

and he's looking right back at you as he does it.

your hand flies to grasp onto dean's that was still resting on your thigh as his mouth continues to attack you— and he gladly takes it in his, not faltering his pace once.

you couldn't help but bite down hard on your bottom lip, attempting to contain the moans and noises that were threatening to spill out of you— and dean isn’t having it.

“nuh uh, darlin’,” dean shakes his head between your thighs, talking right into your pussy between flicks of his tongue on your clit. “i wanna hear you— wanna hear how goddamn good i’m makin’ ya feel right now.”

and with that, your mouth drops open almost immediately. it's like a switch flipped in you— and the first moan you let out is his fuckin' name.

"dean..."

christ on a cross. dean had wanted to hear just anything come out of your pretty mouth, but his name being the first thing on the tip of your tongue does things to him.

dean's imagined you moaning his name countless times, of course, but nothing can compare to the real you right now— tits heaving, groaning and eyes fluttering a little each time he brushes on a few sensitive spots on your pussy with his tongue.

now, it's embarrassing how close you are to cumming on dean's tongue. and oh, he notices. he holds your bucking and writhing hips down with his free hand that's not grasping and holding onto yours—

and goes to fuckin' town.

"fuck— dean!" you think you're gonna pass out— because you could barely hear the sounds of dean slurping up your juices and sucking on your clit when you cum without warning, back arching off of the sheets and grinding into his tongue, your grip on his hand becoming almost bruising as the pleasure cascades over you in waves.

dean doesn't look away from you for a second as your pussy flutters on his tongue, moving his mouth slower once more to not let a drop of you go to waste, making sure you're completely spent, pulling soft groans and gasps from your lips.

your legs tremble and shake under the arm that dean had wrapped around your thigh— and he takes a second to just watch you in the post-orgasm state you're in.

"y'okay?" dean's voice is rough but soft at the same time, looking up at you from his position between your legs like you're the night sky itself.

you open your eyes again, lifting your head off of the pillows just enough to see dean's eyes looking right back at you— and oh, he's a sight, his lips, nose and chin absolutley covered in your slick— and his hair's even more messy than before now.

"yeah", you breathe out softly, managing a nod against the pillows. "yeah, i'm all good. c'mere."

dean sees the soft look in your eyes— and his own gaze melts as he obeys, lifting off of the mattress and out from between your legs to hover over you, your faces just inches apart again.

dean can't look away.

and he never wants to.

"you're goddamn gorgeous, y'know that?" dean murmurs as he looks down at your moonlit face.

at that, you reach your hand up in the distance between you two, cupping the side of dean's face— and his head immediately leans into your touch before you whisper back.

"and you're perfect, dean."

dean's chest tightens at that— and his gaze somehow softens even more. no one's ever called him perfect before, and he couldn't think of one person in his life who even believed that to be true.

but you were looking at dean like he was.

you notice dean's reaction immediately— it was hard not to with how close you were.

you meant those words you said to dean— because being perfect wasn't about having absolutely no flaws or weaknesses.

it was about knowing that, and still carrying on anyway.

and then it clicks. because you could talk all you wanted to dean.

or you could show him how perfect he was.

"lemme show you," you whisper before dean could even open his mouth to deny it. "let me show you how perfect you are, dean."

and those words are completely breaking down what little resistance dean had left. his eyes actually get a little misty as he’s looking down at you— because he can't believe you're here, telling him everything he's never heard before.

dean nods— and his voice is shaking with anticipation mixed with pure awe.

"yeah. yeah, okay."

and that's all you needed. you look at dean's face one last time before lifting your head to close the little distance between the both of you, kissing him with everything you had to give him.

you didn't kiss dean like before— that was in a state of pure lust, desire, and want. now, you're kissing him softer, slower, and with purpose.

and purpose was exactly what dean needed. he tries to keep himself upright and hovering over you, but the way you're kissing him has his arms trembling as you're literally melting him.

you only take my lips off of dean’s when the air he and you had been breathing through your noses wasn’t enough— and your thumb grazes on his cheek again as his forehead rests on top of yours, eyes fluttering a little as i whisper against his lips.

“lay down for me.”

you don't have to say it again. dean obliges in a heartbeat, lifting off of you and rolling onto his back in one fluid motion— and you follow behind, tossing your leg over his to straddle him once more

dean’s hands go to your hips once you’re straddling him, looking up at you now— he still looks a little wrecked from earlier, and his chest is rising and falling in a slower, steadier rhythm than before, like he’s trying to calm himself down.

but seeing your naked form straddling him like this once more is just making his heart start to thump against his chest— again.

your hands find dean’s own on your hips,your fingers trailing on his skin, grazing past his wrists and up his arms— you're not exactly slow, but you're also not very fast with it, either.

no, you take your time touching dean all over again, fingertips tracing over every scar and dent you could see and feel as you're straddling him. your eyes flick up to his face, meeting his gaze once more— but you just keep touching him.

"oh, look at you," your voice is an awed whisper while your hands move on dean’s chest, grazing on the anti-possession tattoo he had on his skin. "see? you’re perfect."

and dean can’t help the little shiver your touch brings him right now, even though he's literally just laying below you, half-propped up by the pillows like you once were. he just can’t help it, because you’ve always been able to get the best reactions out of him.

dean swallows hard as your hands continue their journey over his body— your fingertips roaming over his skin, tracing all the scars he’d earned, right across his chest and down to his stomach.

and his breath actually hitches when you touch his anti-possession tattoo again.

your fingers trace on dean’s tattoo, watching and loving his reactions to just your freakin' hands.

and your hands stay resting on dean’s chest, but a little closer to his shoulders, shifting closer to him in his lap, pressing the entirety of your bare body completely against his.

your voice is still a whisper when you talk again, searching his face as you ask him to do what you've always wanted to.

because you needed to show dean how much you wanted him.

"can i ride you?"

if dean was hard before, it's nothing compared to the way his dick almost hurts now, throbbing at the way you asked permission to ride him.

"god, yes" is what comes out from dean's clenched jaw, and his gaze is locked onto yours as his hands rest on your hips.

a soft smile tugs on your lips again, your gaze flicking down for a brief moment when you hear how strained dean’s voice was— and the sight of him hard for you sends a wave of heat that pools in your stomach, making you clench around nothing.

because you needed dean just as badly as he needed you.

your eyes flick back up to dean’s green ones. and you notice that neither of you are nervous for his to happen. this was dean, after all. you'd wanted him in the least friendly way possible for as long as you could remember— and now? it was actually going to come true.

you didn’t have to ask dean anything else, or even say something. he wanted all of you— and you were going to give it to him.

so that’s why you shift a little, reaching down and guiding yourself to sink onto dean, keeping his gaze while your hands are still on his shoulders.

a broken groan escapes dean when you start to lower yourself down on him— and his own body’s reaction to your walls sucking him in just makes him want you even more.

dean lets his gaze travel all across your face— and he’s still looking right into your eyes when he lets himself go completely slack underneath you, letting you take the lead.

your fingers dig a little into dean’s shoulder at the burning sensation of your pussy being stretched— and your breath hitches, hard. your head falls forward a little as you screw your eyes shut.

your mind had felt like it was going over a thousand miles per second, but when your legs finally hit dean's and your pussy hits the base of his dick, everything just... goes away.

and dean couldn’t keep himself completely still anymore. he actually growled a little when he felt you fully sink down on him, and the sound that left him when he feels your tightness around him was a little more primal-sounding than he’d like to admit right now.

"oh, fuck," he breathes out your name, "you’re tryna kill me."

you can only respond to dean’s words with a strangled noise as the burning sensation was becoming full-throttle now, your grip on dean’s shoulders a little tighter, your head still hung as you try to keep my breathing steady.

because you literally couldn’t move yet. it was still the best feeling you'd ever felt— but you had to get used to dean's dick being buried deep inside of you before you could actually start to move on top of him.

and the way you’re holding on to his shoulders right now and how you’re trying to hold back little noises is driving dean insane.

he’s gripping your hips so tight that it has to be almost painful, and his eyes are fixed on you, still watching you while he tries to stay still for you. but it was taking a hell of a lot of effort on his part.

dean's chest is rising and falling fast, and he can’t help it when he finally chokes out your name in a whisper, unable to keep it in anymore.

"move. please."

at dean’s plea, you flick your hips just a little to see if you were adjusted yet.

and oh, were you ever. your fingers finally release their death grip on dean’s shoulders, one of your hands finding and grasping one of his own that was on your hip— and you finally start to move on top of him, rocking your hips into his.

the groan that escapes dean is the deepest one yet, his hand clutching onto yours and his eyes shutting for a moment as he feels you moving, his free hand tightening on your hip again.

"oh, god," dean gasps out, "jesus—"

you let out a raggedy exhale mixed with a moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling back into your head as you continue to ride dean's dick. it was hard, but you managed to keep your eyes open and half-lidded and on him, wanting to see his face— and you grind your hips into his faster and harder.

seeing you like this was getting to be borderline unbearable for dean.

your tits are bouncing a little in dean's face, and you're just not letting up, and you're so tight and warm, and he just fuckin' loves you—

dean realizes he's gonna cum if you keep this up.

and the embarrassing part is you barely even started riding him.

so it’s a damn good thing he’s still got a shred of control over himself right now.

"je— s— slow it down for a sec, darlin'," dean manages to get out, gritting his teeth as his eyes screw shut. "please."

the moment those words leave dean’s mouth, you immediately do as he says— you don’t abruptly stop, instead gradually slowing your movements to allow for an easy transition.

your hand trails up from dean's shoulder to cup on the side of his face while your're still on top of him— your eyes then search his when you breathlessly whisper to him.

"you okay?"

dean opens his eyes when you ask him if he’s okay right now, knowing that was pure concern in your words. he’s taking a moment to let his body level out a bit, since you stopped like he asked you to. and when he does, he manages a nod once he’s able to somehow form words.

"yeah, 'm good, darlin’—" dean swallows and takes a big gulp of air. "just got a 'lil too close to the edge for a second there. don’t wanna blow it right now."

an exhale of relief you didn’t know you were holding in was let out at dean’s confirmation— and your thumb almost absentmindedly grazes on the skin of his cheek as your hand was still on the side of his face.

"oh," you also nod, gaze softening as you look down at dean under you still. his words make you feel warm inside, along with a little sense of pride, too— but you still had to confirm. "it doesn’t hurt, though, right?"

"doesn’t hurt,” dean responds immediately. and that’s a bit of a complete understatement, because being inside of you right now felt like heaven. his own hand comes up to where yours is, his fingers skimming over your skin as he smiles softly up at you once more. "just wanna be able to last a 'lil bit longer for you, 's all."

your eyebrows scrunch together at that, and your expression is almost goddamn melted at this point as you look down at dean. you weren't sure why those words impacted you so much, but your chest tightens with emotion before you speak again.

"oh, de," you literally whisper, your thumb still skimming back and forth on dean’s cheek. "y'know you don’t have to do that."

"yeah, i do," dean murmurs immediately in response, looking right into your eyes the whole time he talks. "i've wanted this— you for goddamn years. i'm not lettin' this end yet."

so you don't.

you nod, leaning in and pressing a kiss on dean's lips before you talk again.

"okay," you nod against his forehead. "just move me when you want to, alright?"

dean gratefully nods, too, appreciating your understanding. his hands find and hold your hips again—this time, with less of a death-grip. and after he takes a steadying breath, he starts to move you.

you just let dean work and grind your hips into his own, holding his shoulder and face with your hands, allowing him to take what he needed and set the pace.

after a while, though, dean lifts you up off his dick by your hips a few inches before setting you back down fully, repeating the motion— starting to actually fuck you a little.

you'd been quiet for the most part so far— but once the head of dean's dick brushes against that spongy spot deep inside of you, a string of broken moans and gasps spill from your lips.

and that just spurs dean on.

you'd both waited long enough now. it's been years of stolen looks, suppressed jealousy, unspoken thoughts and feelings— and tonight, you're making it all come true in the darkness of the motel room.

thank god dean's hands had been guiding your hips— because you're starting to unravel faster than you can comprehend. and so is dean.

dean's fucking up into you now like he'll never be able to fuck you again— which you both know wasn't true. and after tonight, you know you'd happily sleep with dean's dick buried inside of your pussy.

it takes only a whimper falling from your lips for dean to know that you're close— and your hand flies down to one of his on your hips again. he gladly takes it, wanting to hold your hand when he cums inside of you—

wait. is he allowed to do that?

"y— oh," dean groans out your name— he has not been silent throughout this entire ordeal, either. broken noises of pleasure and little groans of your name escaped his lips whenever your walls clenched around him. "can i— god—"

you didn't have to ask what dean meant by that. you nod almost frantically as his hand are still gripping your hips, guiding your pussy up and down his dick— and you squeeze his other hand tighter, the one you were holding.

and only then does dean let himself go, again.

your orgasm comes at the same time dean's does— and you both arch into each other and trembling as your moans echo off the motel room's walls. dean's face buries between your tits and groans into the skin while he spills up into you, your juices mixing with his.

you both stay like that for a while, naked, sweating, slick and gasping for air for god knows how long— until dean's raw and breathless voice vibrating on your breasts breaks the silence.

"i think i was made for you."

──────────────────────── 𖤐

you now have two ( 2 ) new message from the author ! ↓

oh heyyy... are any of y'all still here ??? but seriously, on a real note— if you have stayed to the very end: first, THANK YOU for reading! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write, and i want to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

OH i also used a very special headcanon from @figthoughts' mastermind brain for this one because mr. dean winchester holding your hand while he eats you out is very much and totally 100% canon for me as well. fig you match my freak like no other and i hope to one day write as good and absolutely filthily as you do HEHE smooches to you my pookie <3

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[raven-dor]

clark kent thinks you're avoiding him... you are - drabble #1

🩵💗 - i have never felt so inspired in my life (total lie but still - clark kent has me in a chokehold - SUPERMAN WAS SO GOOD) this kind of fic is my fav (i've seen it done so so soooo many times with spidey, and i wanted to write my own little bit for superman!!) corenswet!clark kent, miscommunication trope (im sorry), best friends (idiots in love) to lovers, yearning, MEDDLING LOIS, cursing (not from clark, obvi), secret identity reveal!! word count: 1.6k

"I know you're in there."

Five words that scared the living daylights out of you. You felt horrible, sick to your stomach. Lying to your best friend wasn't something you particularly enjoyed doing, but it had to be done.

For your own sanity.

You couldn't take it anymore, your friendship.

You loved him so much, too much, some (Lois) could say. It was obvious to everyone but him, apparently. You decided on a whim that the best way to get rid of this affliction was to avoid him (by saying that you were sick). From there, you would strategically miss his calls and texts with well-planned-out excuses. That idea alone would last you a month, maybe two.

Or at least you thought so.

You stared at the door, clutching a pillow close to your chest as if that would calm you down. It didn't. "How did you know that?"

"Well, for one, your lights are on." He sounded impatient, borderline nervous. "I can hear your nervous breathing from here."

"Whoever you're looking for isn't here right now." Smooth, real smooth. You could tell he was breaking; he was probably clenching his jaw right about now. "Come back later."

"I know you're not sick." Damn you, Lois. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Clark." Your plan for faking a cough was ruined. Most of your plans depended on your sickness. Shit. "I'm just tired."

"Tired?" You imagined your neighbors would be spying curiously at the conversation happening via yelling. "You've been tired for four days, sweetheart."

"You-" You screamed into your pillow, not caring if he heard you. He was horrible, mean without knowing. Mean, because he called you that nickname knowing the effect it had on you. "You're counting, I see."

"I need to see you." Again, was he aware of what he was doing to you, or was he truly so oblivious of his power over you?

"Fine." You muttered to yourself, stalking over, preparing your mind to become a steel trap, impenetrable to all, even those familiar with you. Especially those named Clark. You undid the many locks on your door (Clark's idea) and whipped it open. "Fine! Are you happy?"

God, he was gorgeous. His white button-up hugged his frame in all the right places, and his glasses were in his palm, as if he'd taken them off to nervously rub a hand over his face. "The happiest. Can I come in?"

You stepped aside, shutting the door behind him. "Well, you've seen me."

"What did I do?"

"What-" You frowned. "What makes you think you did something?"

You knew full well you'd given him more than enough to prove he was to blame for your disappearance. He raised an eyebrow, throwing his case and jacket on the couch.

It physically pained you to see him do that, to see him act so casually, like this was routine for him. Like this was home. "C'mon, sweetheart-" You tensed, and he gestured wildly toward you. "See!? You've never done that before. I did something." He stepped forward, his cologne weakening your resolve. "I need to know what it is, so I can fix it."

You walked around him, grabbing his coat and case off the couch, shoving them back into his hold. "You can't fix this."

"Yes, I can." He had the worst hero complex known to mankind. "I can because the alternative-" His voice cracked. "I can't lose you."

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't say he wouldn't lose you, because he was. He was actively losing you. "Clark-"

He opted to throw his things off to the side, their importance nothing compared to your friendship. Friendship. Just thinking the word made you physically nauseous. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" You tilted your head. "Sorry for what?"

"I should have told you." He looked crazed. "I should have told you immediately, but I didn't want to mess it up and-" Your hearing had gone, all your senses failing as your mind reeled with the possibility that maybe Clark, your best friend since high school, your partner in crime, was about to confess his feelings to you.

To you, who was wearing your comfy t-shirt and barely there shorts, whose face looked less than desirable, and whose blue light glasses were doing very little to curb the headache you'd developed.

"Clark, I feel the same-"

"I'm Superman."

Oh fuck. Your eyes welled almost instantly, stumbling over your words. "That's amazing!"

He looked suspicious, like he wanted to ask what you'd thought he was going to say. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You skirted around him, walking into your kitchen and rummaging through the fridge as if you hadn't just accidentally revealed your feelings to your best friend, who happened to be Superman. "So how long have you had these powers?"

"My whole life." He squinted. "What were you-"

"Do your parents know?" You grabbed a cucumber, angrily scrubbing away the germs before grabbing a knife.

"Yeah, I actually-" He tilted his head. "It's a long story."

"Well, I'm all ears." You sliced the cucumber slowly so you had longer to come up with more questions. "This is so exciting."

"What did you say, before I told you I was, y'know?" His arms were crossed, and you didn't know whether to cry or drool at the way the fabric fought against his biceps.

Suddenly, it all made sense, him being Superman. It honestly surprised you that you hadn't realized sooner.

"Sorry?" You grabbed a slice of cucumber, shoving it in your mouth.

"What did you say?" He stepped forward, gently peeling the knife out of your hand, reaching over you to place it in the sink. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"Please don't make me do this." Your eyes were wide. "Clark, it was nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing." He let go of your hand, eyes desperately searching your face for answers. "You were missing for four days. Four days." His hand held your cheek, carressing it gently with his thumb. "I was a wreck. You wouldn't answer my calls or my texts. Even Jimmy was concerned."

"Well, that's sweet of him-"

"You know you've never kept a secret from me before."

"You don't know everything about me, Clark." Shit, that was low, even for you. "I- I meant to say, that..." You stepped out of his hold, grabbing a Tupperware to put the rest of the cucumber in. "Not everything has to be shared between us."

"Oh." His voice was tight, deeper than normal. Serious in a way you'd never heard. "If that's how you feel."

You nodded, too much of a coward to face him. "It is."

"Alrighty." He left the kitchen, grabbing his things from the floor. "Bye then."

"Bye." You watched as he walked out the front door, the door slamming loudly behind him. You would have jumped if you weren't completely numb.

Literally a second later, he burst back through, throwing his things on the ground again, stalking toward you. "Actually, I'm not done."

"Oh really?" You raised an eyebrow. "Because I think you are."

"No." God, he really was intimidating when he needed to be. Obviously, being Superman had its perks. "No, I'm not letting it end this way."

"It?" You scoffed. "There is no it-"

"Why are you being like this?" He looked like he did when you were younger, all flustered and angry, eyes wild and hands animated. "Why won't you just tell me what you said?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes!" He yelled. "That's all I want!"

"I'm in love with you, you asshole." Tears were streaming down your cheeks in waves, dripping onto your shirt, well, actually, when you thought about it, it was originally Clark's. From high school, the lettering fraying from use. "I've been in love with you for years."

It was like you'd awoken a sleeper agent, because the next thing you knew, you were being picked up like you were nothing and placed on the kitchen counter. "Clark-"

He dove down, kissing you so passionately your eyes practically rolled all the way around. You gasped, grabbing his collar and pulling him even closer (if that was possible). His hands grabbed dangerously at your thighs, trailing up and down, sometimes pinching your hips, your waist.

It seemed like you stayed there for hours, letting out all those years of pent-up tension in one perfect, phenomenal, super kiss.

You were sure you could keep going, but Clark pulled back, smirking when you chased after his lips. "Sweetheart-"

"You can't just-" You huffed, chest heaving as the realization hit you like a punch. "You just-"

"Yeah." His forehead rested against yours, eyes bearing into yours. Well, you thought so. Somewhere along minute two of the kiss, your blue light glasses had fogged up. "You're so brave."

"Yeah?" You laughed. "Braver than Superman?"

"Much braver." He whispered. "I was-" He trailed delicate kisses across your jaw, laughing when your breath hitched. "I was trying to work up the nerve to tell you, and you beat me to it."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He found his way back to your lips, his nose resting against yours. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You grinned, kissing his lips quickly, relishing in the fact that you could do that now for any and no reason whatsoever. "So how long have you been in love with me?"

"Gosh-" His eyes were black, the perfect blue lost below a sea of charcoal. "Give or take twelve years?"

"Twelve years?" You yelled, slapping a hand over your mouth, shocked at how loud you were. Clark peeled it away, kissing each knuckle gently as you whispered. "Twelve years?"

"M'honestly surprised you didn't figure it out."

You snorted, shaking your head at the way tonight had turned out. "You and me both, Kent."

taglist:

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!

[beesarthur]

Where in the world were Mulder and Scully?

I'm sure someone else has already made this list, but I've decided to keep track of how many U.S. states (and DC) (and Puerto Rico) Mulder and Scully investigate an incident in. Not counting other locations where part of the incident happens but Mulder and Scully never go to (like England in 1:12). (edited 3/27/24 after watching 2:19) This started as a list of US states and I continue to be interested in counting US states and territories, but the time has come to set up the list for other locations as well. This list includes places that Mulder and/or Scully go to during the episode to investigate a case. Action in DC that is not related to a case in DC does not count. If the action is in DC and spills over to Maryland and/or Virginia, I just count DC, but if the thing starts in VA and then things also happen in DC, I count both. I don't know, it's not an exact science, and the DC area is fluid to me. So far we have...

US States & Territories:

Oregon (1:1, 7:22)

Idaho (1:2, 2:18, 7:10)

Maryland (1:3, 1:15, 1:21, 1:24, 2:16, 2:17, 3:7, 3:16, 3:23, 4:8, 4:9, 4:16, 4:21, 5:3, FtF, 6:6, 6:12, 7:4)

Iowa (1:4)

New Jersey (1:5, 2:2)

Pennsylvania (1:6, 2:3, 2:16, 3:9, 4:2, 4:3, 4:12, 4:13, 4:14, 5:13, 5:14, 5:18, 7:15)

Virginia (1:7, 2:5, 2:6, 2:21, 2:22, 2:23, 3:7, 3:17, 3:24, 4:8, 4:10, 4:16, 4:21, 4:24, 5:1, 5:11, 5:13, 5:17, FtF, 6:7, 6:11, 6:18, 7:4, 7:5, 7:15)

Alaska (1:8, 2:17)

Texas (1:9, 5:12, FtF)

Wisconsin (1:10, 2:10)

Connecticut (1:11, 2:4)

California (1:11, 2:7, 3:15, 3:19, 4:11, 5:6, 5:7, 6:2, 6:15, 6:16, 7:3, 7:8, 7:10, 7:11, 7:12, 7:13, 7:14, 7:19)

Massachusetts (1:12, 1:14, 2:11, 2:16, 3:12, 3:18, 4:10, 4:19)

North Carolina (1:13, 2:15, 6:21, 7:18)

Washington, DC (1:16, 2:8, 2:21, 3:14, 3:16, 3:21, 4:16, 4:22, 4:24, 5:1, 5:2, 5:11, 5:18, 6:9, 6:14, 6:22, 7:1, 7:2, 7:7, 7:17, 7:19)

Tennessee (1:17, 1:18, 4:5, 7:9)

Washington State (1:17, 1:20, 1:23, 2:9, 3:8, 3:20)

Montana (1:19)

New York (1:22, 2:4, 2:16, 3:16, 4:3, 4:8, 4:9, 4:15, 4:17, 4:18, 6:10)

Puerto Rico (2:1)

Missouri (2:12, 7:21)

Nebraska (2:12)

Minnesota (2:13, 3:4)

New Hampshire (2:14, 3:13)

Florida (2:20, 3:5, 4:9, 5:4, 6:13, 7:4)

Arkansas (2:24)

New Mexico (2:25, 3:1, 6:22)

West Virginia (3:2, 3:9, 3:10, 4:20)

Oklahoma (3:3)

Ohio (3:6, 3:11, 5:18)

North Dakota (3:16)

Georgia (3:22)

Rhode Island (3:24, 4:1, 4:23)

Michigan (4:4, 5:9)

Illinois (4:6, 4:19, 7:6, 7:7)

South Carolina (only Skinner 4:21)

Indiana (5:5)

Maine (5:10)

Delaware (5:16, 5:18)

Arizona (6:1)

Nevada (6:2, 6:4, 6:5, 6:20)

Kansas (6:8, 7:20)

Mississippi (6:17)

Vermont (7:16)

Places Outside the US:

Norway (2:19)

Hong Kong (3:15)

Canada (Alberta - 4:1, 4:9; Yukon - 4:24)

Russia (4:8; 4:9)

Antarctica (FtF)

Sargasso Sea (6:3)

Côte d'Ivoire (6:22, 7:1)