#I don't even know this was just something I drew in paint last week and forgot about

[ghostwaffleheimer]

[praeluxius]

Red Wine - Karina & Natty

Aespa Karina x Kiss of Life Natty x M Reader smut

thanks to @capslocked & @passingnotions & @friskyriskywhisky

Masterlist word count: 9,957 Kofi

A new girl every week.

Not like you mind it. As long as Karina is having a good time, then that's enough for you. She meets them all at work, and they're all equally pretty.

Of course they are—it's part of the job.

It's just how Karina is—she has always been a fountain of charisma and that's part of what drew you to her—some call it rizz. So, you know all too well how these girls feel when Karina cranks up that natural charm and it leads to her inevitably inviting them over on a Friday evening, an offer they can’t refuse.

A girl's night in. That's what she always calls it—truth or not.

It's a funny thing to call it, given that you're always there. Not that any of them ever complain. You're there. That's okay. You'll join in the chat or stay out of the way—it's all very casual. Most of the time, it’s just that—casual.

Most of the time.

"And then I told him: 'Look, this dress is Dior, and it's worth a year of your rent. So if you think, even for a second, that it's going to end up on your bedroom floor after you buy me a couple of glasses of bottom-shelf whiskey then you can Johnnie-Walk-the-fuck-on-out-of-here because there are a thousand more ways I can spend my night than wasting time on you.'"

The two girls break out into some sort of intoxicated, riotous laughter. The girl with the story? They call her Natty, and she is the latest of Karina's new friends to visit. This one sporting almond skin, eyes with an inky rich hue, thick lips and a smug look on her face that could melt the paint right off the wall, or the clothes off any man.

She has one leg crossed over the other, sitting at an angle towards Karina. The slight canting of her head, the way her black hair cascades over a bare shoulder, all of it conspires together in order to fully reveal her neck line where the loose t-shirt drapes from shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, like any dude's got enough bank to buy himself to a night with you." Karina laughs again before taking a drink from her wine.

You are trying to watch the TV, vaguely—your favourite team is on and it's a bit of a ritual for you.

You will never even know we're here. That's what Karina told you. Yet you’ve spent the better part of the last hour listening to them. We’ll be quiet.

As if that's ever true.

They've been reeling off anecdotes all the while, and if you've learned one thing about Natty, it's that she has a lot to say, and a lot if it comes down to either the pleasures, profits, or travails of her career. The stories just keep coming. And each and every one is punctuated by that same laugh from Natty. You have never heard anything quite like it before, and it's that which keeps drawing your attention back to their end of the couch. Much like her voice, it's high pitched, a little nasally and utterly adorable.

Karina laughs along as well; more than a few times a drink threatens to spill onto the carpet because one of them has laughed a little too hard or bumped into one another. Now that would be a disaster: red wine and a white carpet.

"So I got this really nice pink one. It's really pretty, a little sexy, but it's so comfy too." Natty is talking but you don't have a clue what about and Karina, turned away from you, is nodding her head, the ponytail on the back of her head shaking a little as a result.

You don't need to see Karina to know how she looks—as beautiful as ever. That same sharp jaw, high cheekbones and lips glistening pink, hued darker by her drink of choice. Those eyes. It’s always her eyes that captivate.

Her beauty and grace are two things she truly does share with Natty. All the women that come over are all part of the same constellation. Stars in their own right, but Karina is a supernova—or something equally poetic.

Karina says something, but the voice is soft and muffled and lost to you among the animated exchange.

"There's also this blue one. But I don't wear it nearly as much as the others, but it cuts real low. Nearly shows my, you know..."

That lowered voice draws your gaze right over to them both as Natty leans in towards the woman next to her. A gesture and the shape of her voice, the lilt of her accent, makes it sound as if she is being discreet even though you can clearly hear every single word.

"...you know." Natty then tugs a little at her own shirt.

The two giggle again as if they're not grown-ass women; two women who have admittedly drunk quite a lot.

"He loves this one I have, it's part of a set, and I picked it up in Paris last month,” Karina says. “Black and lacy. Super expensive, but it's so worth it."

"That pair would look good in anything," Natty lets out that same laugh again, if a little softer this time, as if the mood shifted a little. You felt this coming all along. If you're honest, sometimes as soon as Karina walks through the door with a girl on her arm, there’s a certain vibe that hangs in the air that tells you it’s one of those nights.

You're stealing glances at the two of them, and it's Natty who's looking towards you, over Karina's shoulder. Your eyes are caught in this awkward collision. Natty holds the stare, her smile shifting subtly from innocent to devilish.

She's a stunner. Even from the angle where you're catching glimpses at her, a glance out of the corner of your eye, there is something seductive and hypnotising.

"He's a really lucky guy." She says to Karina, keeping her eyes fixed on you.

That is usually the cue, one you're very familiar with. A flirty little comment, maybe an innuendo, something meant to test the waters—see where the land lies, the rocks you can stand on before stepping any further out into the surf. It's how so many of your Friday evenings play out. You are just that—an object of curiosity and interest to Karina's friends, and you have to credit the sales pitch she must deliver about you.

"You're damn right," Karina replies with a chuckle as she tilts back the remainder of her drink.

"Do you think he would like mine?"

"Of course, he would. But if you want, I can be the judge." Karina takes Natty's almost empty glass and sets both down on the table. Her expression and attitude—lips and body language—communicate her invitation far more eloquently.

Karina is reaching over and Natty's meeting her hands with her own at the hem of her shirt. A teasing lift and you can already envision what she's about to show. See, Natty's a dancer—you know that much, and a good one at that. That kind of talent comes with the blessing of a body that turns heads. Your girlfriend knew that well too when she had invited her back home.

"Go on then."

The shirt lifts off Natty's skin, with the help of Karina’s hands running up the side of her body, exposing a pierced belly button. You try, very valiantly, to pretend not to be watching, but you can't help it. Natty raises her arms and lets Karina pull off the shirt fully revealing her in her lace bralette. It's pink, it's pretty and a little sexy—just how she described it.

"They really are nice, wow," Karina leans in close and for a moment you think she's going to start kissing Natty right then and there.

Natty doesn't say a thing. She lets the next moment happen, and with their bodies so close you can feel the anticipation, there’s an agonising pause, but, just a moment later, Karina is running a hand up along her belly, cupping a hand over one of her breasts.

"Really nice," Karina repeats the compliment.

And you're all in now. Fuck the TV. You can't peel your eyes away from whatever the hell your girlfriend is about to do.

"Thank you," the girl purrs as she arches her body to push herself against Karina's hand.

A flirtatious hand and those slender fingers of hers begin to move delicately over the fabric. It's a good touch. You've experienced first-hand all the wonderful things Karina can do with it. She touches how she dances—passionate and precise.

"What do you think?" Karina's finally acknowledging you over her shoulder—your official invite to the fun.

"Gorgeous," you mumble, and Natty's smiling like a minx as Karina continues in a way that you should probably be offended. Your girlfriend runs her hands down to the girl's waist, round to the small of her back, and then all the way back to where she starts again.

"Come, take a closer look. What do you think?" Natty follows her words with a wink and a flick of the hair.

"Fuck yes." You whisper under your breath.

"What was that?" Your girlfriend's smirking to herself as you rise from your seat.

"Yes." You take a step towards them both.

"Yes?" Natty repeats, one of her dark brows arching.

"He thinks you're fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Gets a little lost in the moment sometimes." Karina is leaning her head in close, one arm around the girl. She has a finger running up along Natty's slender back as she pulls at the clips holding her bra together. "Isn’t she perfect, babe?"

"Something like that," you confess. You're standing in front of the girls, looking down at the topless Natty, at Karina who's still snaking her hands around her. And Natty looks up at you, eyes wide, inviting, smouldering with passion. She really is something else.

She peers beneath those bangs of hers with a look that says: why don't you sit right here beside me?

"There we go," Karina says and there's suddenly some slack. The weight of her pair is taken by gravity and Natty catches them into folded arms. She sinks back into the couch. You take a step, and taking her lead, you sit by her side.

Karina reaches down, pats you on your leg, then turns back to face Natty. "You were saying you thought he was pretty cute too, weren't you, Natty?"

"Pretty cute, yes. Hot too. Moreso now that he’s up close." Natty says while Karina's got her hands on her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra between her delicate fingers. And then her bra is gone—the last semblance of her modesty lost along with it. Her small nipples jutting, stiffened with arousal, ready and waiting.

"God, he's practically drooling."

"That's hot," Karina comments as her lips descend onto Natty's shoulder and she starts laying kisses up and along her neck, trailing all the way to her ears.

"Sit behind her, babe, let her make it easier for you," Karina says. There is something entirely different and erotic in the way your girlfriend commands you. It’s so often like this, the dynamic, the guest and you are equals but Karina? Karina is a level above, the one in control and setting the pace.

You move yourself further onto the sofa and seat yourself back, then Natty slides over your lap. She takes her place, just as Karina wants, in front of you. The look in your lover's eye tells you exactly what to do, while her hands give Natty some hands-on guidance. Holding her shoulders, she’s placing Natty’s back against your chest. 

You lay your own touch on the starlet’s waist, coiling them around her body. Dragging them up towards her smooth tits causes her to respond with a shudder. You keep your touches slow, leisurely, tentative and exploratory, but with no lack of appreciation.

Natty refuses to shy and settles firmly into your body. Karina, meanwhile, sets herself in front of the two of you, resting her hands on Natty's knees. Your beautiful guest parts her legs a little as Karina slips her hands between them, urging her thighs to open wider. Wider until she has to lift her legs over yours.

"Is this okay with you?" Karina is looking up into Natty's face and the woman simply nods."How does she feel?" Karina's asking you now, placing her hands on the back of yours, guiding your touch over her breast into a rougher pace.

"Perfect." The word slips from your mouth, followed by a throaty groan. Among all of this, Natty's ass is against your crotch, the weight of her pushing your manhood to swell and strain against your clothing. You are thankful she's wearing a thin enough pair of yoga pants that enhances it all.

Karina has planted her knees between yours and Natty's legs. She's pulling her own shirt over her head and you already know what's beneath. For all the talk earlier about bras, Karina isn't wearing one; she never does. "Fuck, Karina," Natty coos at her bare chest. "He likes it too. I can feel him twitching."

Natty’s hands are all over Karina as she pulls her in. There’s grace, there’s tension and there’s a coy giggle from Karina as their lips are only inches apart. The hammering of your heart echoes within as you take a front-row seat to their show. It always triggers something inside you when she first lays lips on someone, it always heightens that delicious, tingling, primal feeling.

"Oh shit, girls..."

Your girlfriend's the best kisser and you love watching her like this—exploring another woman's mouth. Natty is matching her tempo beat by beat, kiss by kiss. Her body arches as you squeeze her breasts. You swear Natty's making little whimpers as the two make out.

Her body is all action against you: ass grinding back, rolling slowly and languidly as your hands pull at her breasts—squeezing them together and then apart. You dip into her neck with your mouth. The sweetness of her skin fills your mouth and the richness of her perfume fills your nose.

You lower your lips and gently nibble at her neck, dragging teeth over her flesh until she gasps from a gentle bite and you work your lips on her skin. Tongue roaming as you feast on her taste. Karina's pushing forward now, Natty sandwiched between you, their pairs of tits pressing together with your hands somewhere between.

They break, and Natty naturally moves to your girlfriend’s neck. Karina has her sights set on you, prying your mouth from Natty's shoulder and catching you in a deep kiss. Tongues battling, clashing. There's the familiar fading taste of red wine in her mouth, and the unmistakable flavour of something foreign to you, the lingering taste of Natty.

She pulls away from your lips, staring down the two of you. There's dissatisfaction on her face. "Why aren't the two of you naked yet?"

She pulls at Natty's hips, relieving your cock of the pressure of her sitting on it, and you hold Natty so as to not let her slip too far away. You and Karina work Natty's yoga pants, and her panties, from her hips. They slip effortlessly down to her ankles, leaving her decidedly bare.

No one speaks and you all know this isn't the time to explain anything or ask questions. When her clothing is out of the way Karina descends upon Natty again, kissing her hard and you catch the dying whimpers of Natty's moans into Karina's lips. Karina's hand is snaking down Natty's back, reaching for your crotch. She unbuckles and opens your belt all the time fighting against Natty's movement as she tries to grind her ass back into you.

"Stop moving." Karina giggles into their kiss as her hand delves beneath your trousers. She breaks her kiss again. "Need some help."

Natty's peeling herself away from you, turning to face you. Natty's naked, Karina's halfway there, you're the one slacking. Not for long. Soon the two are tugging away all the unnecessary clothes until all three of you are equally exposed. Your cock stands heavy and ready under their gaze.

"Woah, you weren't lying." Natty's figuratively licking her lips, hungry and wide-eyed, and you'd bet your last dollar she's got an idea in mind. "Can I...?" Natty turns to ask Karina.

"I'd hate to be selfish." Karina shrugs her shoulders and winks. You're transfixed. There's natural magic about the way they move as if it is rehearsed; the way Natty sinks to her knees and the way Karina pulls your hips to the edge of the seat, then rises above you.

Karina hovers and watches, Natty leans in, and then your balls disappear into her mouth. She’s handling them with her tongue expertly as she takes hold of your cock.

"God, what a pro. She wasn’t lying when she told me she knew her way around a cock," she exclaims, savouring every second as the air rapidly leaves your lungs.

It is beyond explanation, the way Natty's tongue is dancing along the underside of your balls as her lips caress each one. Her eyes occasionally flick up and flash mischievously—it's the kind of look that means she could get away with absolutely anything, and there is no way you are going to stop her.

"She's got the face for it, doesn't she? Like she just gives the most amazing head." Karina's on her knees by your side, sliding a hand between her thighs.

"Y-yeah." You manage to reply. "S-so... ahh! Good."

Karina leans forward, cupping one of your cheeks as she looks into your eyes.

"He's speechless!" She laughs, moving a hand to the back of your head and tugging gently at the strands. "Natty baby, give him a few words or something, will you? If you can?"

It's hard to look at her, but you crane your neck and you catch her looking at you again—one hand upon your inner thigh, the other wrapped around your shaft. "That's a good boy," Natty murmurs.

She teases a thumb over the surface of your glistening wet tip. "She loves that shit. Watch her..." Karina explains, smiling, the delight on her face all you can look at for a moment or more.

She guides your chin and you follow your girlfriend's direction, then you see, Natty's taken her mouth from you for a second and she's licking your pre-cum from her thumb; her gaze on the pair of you. She repeats her motion once more and the grin on her face grows bigger as you leak another pearl for her.

"How does he taste?" Karina asks for both of you.

"Delicious." Natty answers—now she's literally licking her lips.

You'll believe anything this woman tells you.

She's running a teasing tongue along the underside of your shaft, and as she reaches the peak, she catches the snow-white trickle you drip right there. You close your eyes in ecstasy, but before long, you’re feeling a finger poke against your lips.

You part them open, letting Karina's two fingers inside, and she's running her digits over your tongue as you suck her fingertips. The taste is so undoubtedly her, nectar straight from her source, your mouth salivating for more.

The feel of Natty's soft plump lips against the end of your cock is incredible as she moves them in an inch, teasing, testing, and then she withdraws just the same and you want to cry out. But you can't, Karina still lubricating her fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits.

She withdraws and your eyes open. And as much as you wanted to see Natty ready to settle her mouth around your cock, she's got something else in mind. She has her tits in her hand. "Are they still gorgeous?"

"Yeah, totally," you sputter.

"Natty girl, let him fuck them." Karina tells her and then she turns to you, mouth to your ear. "You want your cock between them, don't you? Tell her." Karina's not leaving this up to interpretation. "Tell her you want them."

"Oh yes..." you blurt out, without even really thinking. Karina giggles—it's her sign of approval, a tick. "Your tits, Natty. Fuck. Please."

It's not something you haven't done before. You love Karina's pair too, after all. It would be hard for anyone with a dick to resist a pair of round tits like hers. Luckily for you, tonight she's brought you a girl with a pair to match her own.

"He asked so nicely."

"He's a real gentleman," Natty teases and she raises her breasts a little, then pushes them together. As your head slides into her cleavage, she puts her hand around them, and as the skin squeezes the sides of your member, you are reduced to shuddering. Karina knows exactly how this gets you, knows just how this can bring you undone. It doesn't even matter if the actual thing feels nothing like sex—you'll always go crazy over a great pair of tits.

As the tip of your manhood peeks out through the crease between them, Natty lowers her tongue to it and you swear you nearly cum right then. Then the words echo inside your brain: he wants them, Karina's voice and as soon as she says it, your subconscious concedes to the reality.

"Look how easy and willing he is," she says to Karina and both girls giggle, then Natty forms a mock pout. "Such a good boy. I really want to make him feel good."

"He does deserve something." Your girlfriend runs her fingers into your hair as Natty plants a soft kiss onto your cock-head. Instinctively, you reach out but before you can touch anything, Karina's hand finds your wrist. "Tell her what you want."

She's leaning in closer again and Natty looks up from where she's teasing your tip, sucking, tonguing and lavishing affection and attention. "Ask Natty nice. Tell her you want a blowjob. Tell her you want to cum. Tell her what you want," Karina purrs her words.

And god, if anything makes it impossible to think straight, it is Natty's gaze up at you. She wants to make it easy for you, impossible to do anything but give in to your wishes, whether it’s her intention or your deep-seated desire making it seem so.

"Natty... can you suck my cock?" Your mouth's dry and the words grate in the throat.

"Anything," she says with a twinkle in her eye. And now it's all one motion. Her tits clamped against the sides of your length. Your cock drives between them and into Natty's waiting mouth. She's all tongue, bobbing her head a little and taking the tip of you in and out of her mouth.

Karina's all over you—kissing your neck, holding a hand behind your head, caressing, squeezing. "Aren't I just the best? Always doing this for you with all these girls." She's muttering away in your ear. The heat of her breath is constant and burning. She continues with sweet nothings in her deep, sultry voice.

You're sinking deeper into the couch, like you're laid on the shore and the tide is enveloping you. Wave after wave crashing against you, rolling, engulfing you and drawing you out further and further. Natty is pulling you under; every time she takes you into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around you, it's another wave over you. Karina is a life rope. You're grabbing onto the strands of her ponytail, trying to keep your head above the water. All her touches, her words, her encouragement, that's the air you need.

But the torrent grows ever more intense and powerful and the riptide is too great, Natty's drawing the last vestiges of resolve from you. You lose grip of everything—of reality.

You're lost.

Lost in her mouth, lost between her tits.

Karina knows it, she's seen it all before, so many times, for her and others. "Feel like you're gonna cum?" Karina's in your ear asking you the obvious.

Your answer's a growl.

"Cum!" It's a low-roar in your ear.

You don't say a word.

"All over those perfect fucking tits. Her mouth, her face, look at her," and then that's it. You're drowning in pleasure. Every sense abandons you—hearing, touch, and sight, all surrendered.

You can't think or do anything, because every fibre of your being is focused on a single action—pouring out cum. You're rigid and straining.

Your eyes regain focus and you see it all. All of it smearing her tits and just a little on her face, and then more streams erupt. Natty doesn't shy and she doesn't stop. She is milking you for every single drop.

And Karina's ever the encourager, ever full of pride. "Just like that, yes. Empty all of it right there on her chest."

This is her thing now. Has been for a while, ever since she convinced you to try it just one time. Her imagination was fueled by all those dirty little stories she read online about voyeurism and the like. It opened her eyes and redefined your relationship. It started with an experiment. With her best friend, Winter, all those months ago. It was the first time she took enjoyment in her friend getting you off.

Now it's a regular surprise. Sometimes they're girls you met many times before, almost like she was dangling them in front of you, teasing you. Other times it's just like Natty. You barely say a few words to them and before you know it, you're covering them in your cum.

Truth is, you always get the gut feeling when it's one of these nights, as soon as Karina and whichever girl it is start their first drinks of the night; you know it's one of those nights. Then it's just a case of waiting.

Natty didn't take long to get on her knees—she must have been excited.

And lucky for her, you're nowhere near being finished.

Karina is prowling and on the move, towards Natty, and she reaches her with both arms as she locks her into her grasp. A kiss, deep, hungry. All tongue. Seeing is believing; some of you ended up inside Natty’s mouth and now she’s sharing, distributing to Karina. Back and forth it goes between their mouths, with some spilling from their lips. As it’s shared, it’s swallowed bit by bit between them.

"Your turn Natty. I want to watch you cum for me." Karina announces she breaks away, then lapping up what remains on her lips and she has a hand on Natty's chest, playing with the mess you made of them.

You're lying there, spent and watching, as Karina guides Natty to her feet.

"There you go," Karina is pushing the girl towards the couch and she gets to the edge, then places a knee on it. Your eyes drift over her body as Karina bends her into place, her sticky chest planted against the cushions. Her juicy ass is in the air and the light in the room highlights every line and contour. Her flawless curves are accentuated to their perfect best.

"Legs wider, yes, yes. That's perfect," Karina's voice cuts through the air. She's behind her, hand on the small of her back, urging Natty into position. Lower and lower, Natty's head pressed into the cushion; she's turning to look at you, face full of excitement, of yearning.

A quiver passes through her entire body as Karina's lips descend upon her lower back.

Then lower, kissing her tailbone.

Her ass.

Lower and lower, peppering her skin along the way, Karina finally nestles between the two cheeks. Then she places her hands on Natty and starts parting them. "Perfect. Isn't that so perfect?"

Karina doesn't wait for any reply from you.

She doesn't need to. You are fixed there, utterly mesmerised, entranced and completely undisturbed, watching this gorgeous woman lay tongue on her newest conquest. Karina, meanwhile, can't contain her excitement. She's feasting on Natty, lapping at her sex, diving lower and lower with her tongue. "Oh yes. You taste so good."

Everybody's taste is unique. Just as her aroma earlier was something you couldn't put into words or compare, you can only imagine how sweet Natty must taste. And as if she reads your mind, Karina adds to the narrative, "So sweet."

And the sounds.

Fuck. The sounds. 

Natty moans, loud, sharp and high. You should have known it, her voice being what it is—the tone; so unique, so unmissable. You should have expected the melodic composition. The pleasure is pure, crystal-clear music. It's perfection in sound. It's the kind of musicality people work their entire lives to compose, to play, to express.

To do all without a care in the world.

With as much freedom, spontaneity and energy as possible.

The tone shifts, and the octaves change. And it's Karina, playing her, burying a pair of fingers into Natty.

There is no question here. The two are in sync. Karina, a performer by profession, plays your guest as if Natty is merely an extension of herself. Your girlfriend, in her element, her playground, her stage and her domain. You are her audience. And she has never sounded, looked, or acted so majestic in her role.

Natty sings a string of profanities, nonsensical and fragmented phrases.

"That good?" Karina exclaims, teeth digging into her butt cheek as Natty spills into the cushion. Her legs quiver. Karina smiles into her ass, nipping her a second time and then she turns to you, staring at you with the same dark hunger, the same thirst, you always see.

"You still with us, babe?" she asks—rhetorical, she know’s you’re fixated. There's no question in her mind. She can read you and she knows how captivating this performance is.

"God yes," you whisper in reply. She's smiling wide.

"Good." That one word response, so laden with meaning.

It's a dangerous smile. It means only trouble. Good trouble.

"Come here," she's beckoning you behind Natty. Your legs feel weak and like jelly, yet you crawl up and behind her, your hand slips up to her thigh, pressing, pawing and grabbing her flesh. She purrs at your touch, and Karina, too, responds with delight.

"Natty," you begin, feeling her ass under your touch. "Do you want me inside you?"

"Mhm. Yes."

Karina slips a hand around your erection, her wet, lubricated fingertips meet your skin and when she says, let me get you ready for her. That alone could have done the job. But, damn, her hand feels so good as it strokes. The motion's just the right pace and when her grip gets tighter, a tremor courses through you.

"You did such a wonderful job already." Her praise is just as nice as her tongue running along the side of your length and then her lips, pursed, locking onto the tip.

"Karina..." it's a long-drawn groan. She lets her tongue swivel over you, each stroke lasting longer and longer. The more she continues, the more feels you grow and get hard—she works you until the last ounce of sanity leaves your brain.

Then she draws away and finishes her sentence, "I told you, you're the best. Now look at her, look how needy she is." Karina's still got a hand on your cock and the other caressing Natty's cunt.

Natty’s now the girl in the center of it all. Her beautiful face turned, eyes closed. She's twitching, aching, longing. She whimpers, and then gasps in desire as you angle your cock at her slit. Her folds open gratefully and the wet warmth of her sex embraces you. Her groans rise again, heightening ever more in the satisfaction as she backs herself further onto your length.

You move, thrusting into her, and she breaks into a tempered moan.

"Oh yes! God, yes."

And you feel a hand grab at your backside, encouraging, guiding, demanding more of you. She partners her touch with an all-telling grin. Karina's about as happy watching you fuck someone else as she is being fucked.

"That's it... You like it like this Natty? Does this feel good to you?"

It's a silly thing to ask, but it still makes Natty stir. It makes her hot—burning hot. As soon as the words are out of her, and she follows with a moan, she becomes tighter around you.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes..." she trails into several more repetitions as you angle deeper into her.

Your girlfriend is dancing her fingertips over her skin. "So amazing," your lover is still muttering her words. "So fucking hot," Karina says as she tracks her kisses up Natty's back. Gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her glistening back as Natty keeps driving her ass back against you. 

There is the unmistakable look of an idea forming in Karina's mind. She's climbing onto the sofa, crawling past Natty onto the back of it, where Natty's head is pressed against the fabric. Natty grows hesitant at the expectation of what's to come, and it allows you to take over. A hand on either side. You're gripping her hips and really fucking her, pushing your cock fully into her and stretching her.

You see Natty's fingers wrapping around the bottom of the sofa cushions in an iron grasp, trying to bear the surge of bliss. She shudders and clenches up as Karina runs a set of nails up her back.

"Yes, baby, you take her, don't be afraid," Karina hisses her words, raking at Natty's back with her claws. "Harder." Karina demands and you pull on Natty's hips, pulling the gorgeous young woman into your hips as you fuck.

Karina's sliding into where she wants to be, right in front of Natty's face, sitting where she rests it. She's handling her like the toy she currently is, pulling her head exactly where Karina wants it, and coercing Natty's mouth onto her. To bury her in and make her satisfy Karina's craving.

And Natty wastes no time, sliding her lips onto Karina, exploring her core the way she has explored her mouth. "Just like that," your girlfriend cries as she rests a hand on Natty's head and rocks back against her. "See, I knew you'd be perfect for us."

You have to admit, Karina nailed it with this one. Before any of the girls even step into the apartment, they know why they're there, but none of them are as ready for it as Natty. It must be a deep, dark fantasy of her own, maybe something she's played out in her mind over and over. It must have been burning inside her before even that first taste of red wine.

Red wine.

That's it. That's how you knew it was always going to end up like this. Fuck, you must be a fool for having missed it all those times before. It's so obvious now that it's when she drinks red wine with them—that's the signal of how the night's going to end. Your subconscious had made the connection, now you realise.

You smile to yourself in the moment of clarity and Karina has noticed, breaking through her moans to ask, "You look a little lost back there, babe. Something funny?"

She's got a coy grin on her lips and her hand gripping Natty's hair, grinding the woman's face further into her pussy. It's a stream of muffled moans from Natty between her hungry licks of Karina's cunt. She's all action between you and Karina's stare. "Nothing."

You raise a hand and spank Natty's ass; the echo fills the air and her cheek ripples. Karina flinches with surprise and she's drawing the young woman further into her body. "Jesus, fuck. Again."

Again and you lay your palm on Natty. Harder. She mewls in pain and Karina shivers in bliss. Her fingertips dig at the younger woman, grabbing her by her scalp and pushing her harder.

A final time you spank her ass, planting your hands and digging your fingers into her soft flesh. Using the strike on your mount to signal one thing; faster.

You're reckless now—manic. Grab her ass and pound; that’s all that is on your mind. You're rabid—not holding anything back. This is the sole reason that girl's here tonight and you're not letting her down, nor Karina.

You hammer against her body, deep into her depths. Her cries echo over Karina's. Each hit a satisfying smack to Natty's cheeks. Slaps and claps and cries. Sounds fill the room. The wet squelch, the grunt of every stroke to the backing track of Karina's rich mewls.

It's a symphony, eroticism on an epic scale.

Your eyes roll upward, over Natty's body and land on Karina. She's bouncing on Natty's tongue. Head back, face creased with pleasure. A grimace so beautiful that you swear it is the definition of raw sexuality.

Natty's struggling; her legs are giving way and she keeps reaching with her hands. To the couch, the cushions, Karina's legs, to anything. There is no steadying her, and it looks like she's barely clinging on for dear life. She has only her waning strength and determination holding her together.

You think she's cumming. But fuck, it is hard to be sure. Maybe you should slow down, but if she is cumming once, better to make it twice. Or thrice. So, you pick up the pace instead. You become wilder, stronger, faster, more forceful.

She's not even eating Karina's cunt anymore—she just can't. You grab Natty's arms and pull her upright so she doesn't slip. Chest to back now—she’s against you and your thrusts drive upward into her.

Natty wails and all the while, Karina is sliding down the couch onto her knees, face to face with Natty. She brings a hand to Natty's throat, grabbing and pushing to pin her against you. And her other hand is sinking between Natty's legs.

Karina's teasing Natty's cunt with the soft caresses of her fingers, and you're sliding between those fingers and into the girl. "Look at you," Karina's saying between clenched teeth, then a loud hiss passes her lips. "Oh, fuck."

A fire blazes across the brunette's eyes—you swear it is an inferno. Fingernails and knuckles are going white in her grip of Natty's neck, and the same could be said of yours holding her arms.

"Oh, Karina!" Your newfound fuck toy screams your girlfriend's name out at the top of her voice.

Karina responds by rubbing her fingers on Natty's clit, then pressing hard, strumming it at a maniacal pace. She's whispering into Natty's ear, words only the girl can hear, coaxing something out of her.

Natty screams again and again. Your name then Karina's.

She's cumming. 

Not just that, she's fucking squirting.

Her body's a boneless jelly in your arms as it spasms. And your girlfriend just won't stop her mischievous act, not a single pause until she's dragged more from the young beauty. She's dragging her second and then a third eruption.

It pours. It flows. Eruption is exactly the right word. 

Natty's spraying onto your cock— 

onto Karina's fingers— 

down your legs— 

on the couch— 

everywhere.

You've got an ardent geyser in your grip and her voice cracks, the climax too much for her, for any of you.

In a flurry of a moment, Natty falls, slipping from your grasp and collapsing and sinking against Karina's chest. Limp. Saturated and dripping, sweat and cum.

The girl has come undone.

You've slipped out of her, set her free, but you're ready to burst. Staggering behind her, a mess and almost drunk on sex, you catch your breath. "Karina... I..." you begin.

"Look at the mess she made." Look at the mess she is. 

Karina's laying the girl down to the side; Natty is almost lifeless aside from the aftershocks still tearing through her.

"Karina..." you try again. "Karina, please..."

"Come here sweetie," and that's enough. You sink to your knees on the edge of the seat. Karina's in front of you, grabbing at your erection and lying back. You're collapsing over her, propping yourself with an arm. She's pulling at your cock. It doesn't take much and you're about to fire.

"Please Karina, please" you growl and Karina whispers back the sweetest reply, 'I love watching you do this'.

She's tugging your cock, aiming it at her wet cunt, freshly eaten.

Then your legs grow heavy and stiff, it's impossible to move, muscles tense, locking your body in place. Karina's jerking your cock and it's impossible to hold it.

Release.

It comes.

You can't explain, words can't describe it, the sheer, earth-shattering and mind-numbing rush as it pours. Spurt after spurt, you feel it all come out, and through your hazed vision you're watching it pour over her cunt. Some on her abs, some on her thigh, but most of it coating her pussy. It is all you want to see before you fall, slipping onto her, your head in the nook of her neck. Her words are just a noise in your ear.

"Stay with us," it's her soft voice that you feel vibrate in your ears as her chest rises and falls beneath you. "Natty? Darling, you too."

There's this moment of near silence. Three sets of heavy breaths.

There are things you know to expect before long, but in this space between you don't really know where it'll go. It’s all wild in the night.

"That was... fuck. Intense," you begin, laying the seeds to push the three of you to the next course, "Wasn't it?"

Karina's responding with a push at your shoulders, making you look at her. Her features, still so sharp, she's still so elegantly composed, the dark and playful look hasn't left her eyes. Her smile endearing. "We're not done," she begins, a whisper into your mouth as you lean over her.

Hand grasping your cock, firm, and she’ squeezing a drop or two more out. "I want you inside me." She demands it of you, of your spent dick. This is always the danger. You're just a single cock in a game that demands more.

It hurts as she rubs your cock. No matter how gentle her touch, it feels rough and you wince in her hold, it's raw pain and all you want is to draw back, but you stay. You have to stay. You want to stay. Refusing to let the pain, the momentary sting and discomfort end it. "Give her what she wants," it's Natty's voice, from beside the two of you. Who knows where the young girl even got the strength?

“Please,” It’s rare that Karina pleads, but her mouth is on your ear, nibbling softly. Her hot tongue traces the shell of it and the whole motion gives you a shiver that makes the hair stand on end. "Come on." She coaxes in a sultry, yet playful, sing-song voice. It makes her intentions unmistakable.

You draw your body back and rest on your knees, looking at the two girls, side-by-side, one melting and the other keening. Your heart is still trying to get out of your chest, but somehow the sight of them has calmed you. They make it all feel a little easier.

"I'm sure your cock can still work for me," Karina's words are undisguised lust.

Natty reaches a lazy arm, working her fingers into the cum you left on Karina's body, playing with it. She begins painting Karina's belly, streaking it over her skin. "So much," she purrs, adding a moan as a compliment, her tone soaked in desire.

Karina takes her own finger to it too, dousing it in your fluid before taking it to Natty's lips. It's a question that goes unspoken, not one word, one command, just a mere motion. Natty's reply is perfect; she opens her mouth and accepts it eagerly, slipping her tongue onto Karina's digit and suckling it. 

Natty returns the favour, her finger into Karina's mouth. They're both sucking, tasting, swirling their tongues as you watch, drinking the liquid, gulping it down, savouring the taste. Their eyes locked in an impossibly sinful gaze. Neither can bring themselves to break it.

They only give in and finally end it when their bodies move instinctively, rolling in to a desperate kiss. Mouths together, sharing the fluid back and forth in a series of dirty, noisy kisses.

Natty's running her hand down Karina's body, running it through your cum and heading right for her cunt. One finger sinks inside, met by a silent whimper from Karina and a second finger joins the first as the girl's now twisting inside your girlfriend. She draws in and out, each time pulling more of your cum into Karina's hole.

And your cock, exhausted moments before, now wants to wake. It's stiffening, not too far from hard once again. You're a moth to a flame and Karina's burning brighter than ever. 

Natty's insatiable thirst is getting the better of her and her finger fucks your lover relentlessly.

Karina's mewl of satisfaction turns into a blissful howl. And when you climb between the girl's legs, finding them parted, you grab her behind the knees. Karina moans once more when you move to slip her ankles over your shoulders and Natty is forced to concede. Your stiff shaft, the one Karina has yearned for, drives into her.

Karina absorbs you, clinging, squeezing, and she holds you, embracing you. Her body is soft against yours, yet inside she's hotter than molten iron. She's even wetter, every slick and intimate part of her is grinding against you. "Yes, fuck yes," she's slurring, muttering nonsense.

She's a fucking mess between her legs—there's some of Natty's, there's some of hers, and there's a lot of yours down there, and you're fucking it all into her as lubricant. Natty's forced to watch as you're pressing Karina's knees up to her chest. She's riding the edge between pleasure and pain and enjoying every bit of it.

And there's no better feeling than when you press her even closer, and now her ankles lock at the back of your neck. Every thrust from you forces her ass to rise from the cushion and her cheeks meet your hips in a way that resembles Natty not long ago. Her tits are pressed almost flat under the weight. She is so open to you—so, so willing. 

Her thighs tremble. Her hands claw. She's losing everything inside herself, everything but the one thing she wants most, a violent orgasm.

It's Natty's turn now, a role reversal, as she tries her hand at the encouragement, the guiding partner, "Harder," her first order. "Deeper," her second. Both punctuated with her nails scoring along your flesh. And in an act that's so entirely Natty, she's now spanking your ass and laughing as she does it. She's playfully flirty and full of giddy enthusiasm.

"Faster." Natty's clapping her hands and she's watching your thrusts drive Karina wild. Every stroke, every strike, all of it Karina is crying out for. Every push forward makes her twinge, a sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain, each jolting through her. "God, isn't she great to fuck?"

"She's the best," you groan, struggling to reply with the only response you can formulate. She is, of course, better to fuck than anybody else. There's no question about that.

"And you," Natty turns to her, "are you going to cum for us now?" Karina's hair sways. Her mouth is full of cries and whimpers. Every roll of your hips, every pull back and every plunge into her pussy steals every breath.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck yes. Right there, baby. Don't stop."

Natty relaxes to enjoy the show. She can see your shaft thrusting. She can see it when you withdraw, almost the full length and then every inch into Karina. Each time, your girlfriend's body jiggles and twists and writhes.

Karina's face grows contorted. A contortion of pure delight.

It's what Natty's been waiting for. Watching. The expectation she couldn't express. The feeling inside her core growing.

"Oh. God!" Karina squeals. She's seeing white spots explode in her vision. A flash of colourful patterns swirl in her head. The white heat rises higher and hotter, so high and so bright it consumes her. She's gone in it. Next comes a sound following a deafening gasp that stops the air dead in her lungs, the release as an equally loud scream.

You hear it, and the heat burns inside your ears, as if sound could cauterize. Every cell of your skin sizzles. It's electric, this passion.

Her cunt turns to water and floods. Your cock is saturated. That's all the reason you need to lose yourself. To slip back and slide yourself deeper into her, pumping. Her eyes squeeze shut and a loud, sonorous gasp is swallowed by her lips. She's never seemed sexier. She is utterly engorged with desire.

"Ah! Ah!" 

You know Karina's at her limit. A dire need for respite, for air to fill her lungs—for relief.

You know what you're going to do. Natty is oblivious, so when you pull out of Karina, and slide over Natty—who's lying on her side facing Karina—it catches her by surprise. One that brings a look of elated shock to her face. You push up one leg and mount her from the side, driving your cock into her.

Karina's drowning in air as she opens her mouth to take all she can. Her vision clears. It focuses on Natty.

The young woman is caught, once again, and in the best way possible; she's lost and helpless beneath you, she has to clutch and clasp whatever's available—the cushions, her own arms—and take it. She's face down to the couch; her body twisted. Her tit's pressed underneath her but her waist rotating, one knee pointing at Karina and one leg straight between your own.

And Natty has taken this all in stride. She's dug her nails into her own scalp, grabbing at her hair. And there is no uncertainty or indecision within her body, nor in her mind. She revels in her vulnerability. She loves the feel of you inside her. Loves the thrill that floods through her entire being as you dominate and ravish her.

Karina makes her move. To join Natty, she slides in on her side, lifting Natty's leg over her own hip, turning Natty fully onto her side to face her. You relent for a moment and Karina does what she needs to. She pulls her own leg up under Natty's and hooks it around her ass. The girls pull each other close. Pull each other into a kiss. Their mouths together. Their breath shared.

Karina whispers, but loud enough you can hear her, and says, "Told you," and her words are all wrapped up in a smirk, the smile of satisfaction.

You slap the length of your cock against Karina's ass; teasing her but not sliding into her. And only when Karina has worked herself up even higher do you lower yourself and slide in, penetrating, filling and stretching.

You're fucking in and out of her. This might be a new favourite of yours. The girls tangled together, sharing kisses and bites and tongue. Both their holes are there for you—each available whenever you want it, and each is only a hair width apart.

It's hard for you to keep a focus on everything like this. But you fight through, burying your shaft inside Karina. Once, and twice, and a final time again. And it's ever so easy to just drag yourself out, driving it between their cunts for a few short pumps and then slip it up into Natty.

"Fuck. I wish we'd done this sooner," Karina is mumbling more, but her words are rolling together and coiling into nonsensical verbal splashes of pure want and need.

Natty strains a response, "I'd... love... to... join you. Often."

"Perfect." Karina is happy as she shifts, arching her body to make a point, to tell you who to fuck now.

And you slip, and then you're inside Karina. As easy as that. Buried as deep and hard as you can, she's mouthing a silent cry and her hair falls over her face.

Natty's got a handful of Karina's tit now, caressing her nipples. It's hard not to envy the beauty that's in her hands. Soft, round, pert, perfectly curved, her breasts are works of art, beautiful beyond anything you could ever put into words.

And all of a sudden, Natty has shifted from Karina's mouth, planting her lips on Karina's soft pillows. Natty is suckling at them and Karina's mouth is twisted open in a soundless gasp, then she speaks, "I could do this forever."

Her arms draw along Natty's body until she finds her ass, slipping down and around, and then her fingertip sinks between her cheeks. It makes Natty lurch as it caresses her taint, presses lower, and touches her tight rear entrance.

Then she does it, a manoeuvre only the confident would have considered, a twist and she's pushing a slender finger into Natty's ass and causing the girl to nip at Karina's breast. "Fuck," Natty hisses, giving a breathy shudder. And her reaction draws a grin onto Karina.

And they keep going like that, they are perfectly attuned to each other. And you swap again, seeing the opportunity to really punish Natty. You're angling towards her again, sliding into her soaked cunt.

You push up inside her. With no time or inclination to start gentle, you're instantly fucking her fast. In and out, hard and deep, over and over, you hammer her cunt. She's muffled with a mouth full of Karina.

"How's that Natty? Both your holes are ours." It's Karina, whispering her dirty words again, "tell us you're going to join us again. Tell us."

Natty nods her head against Karina's chest. It's not a verbal answer. But it's an affirmation that, fuck, yes, she'd like that—as would you all. You could have this again, and maybe soon, a replay with a fresh twist.

Maybe next time you can be the one inside Natty's ass. For now, it's Karina's finger working her, and it looks fucking amazing as it drives into her and withdraws in the exact same rhythm that you're giving her.

You both keep the pace, driving Natty into nirvana, and at some point, it's clear when the climax hits. But it's an awfully hard thing to gauge the passage of time while being wrapped and caught and tangled with these two vixens. All you know is that all too soon, your balls are beginning to churn.

And that's when you switch back again, driving into your girlfriend's cunt with no time for a rest.You're going for broke. Slamming yourself fully inside and Karina knows the instant you do what your fate has become. She laughs and squeezes Natty, pulling the girl tighter.

It's only natural that the rising tide, the bubble of the climactic force, grows and grows and grows. Your ears pound in the beat of the blood racing and your breaths come in fits and starts. The noises escaping your three mouths become louder than before, more frenetic, more unchecked. More lustful.

"Karina— I— Natty—" You're losing the fight against your own body. The rush, the pressure, all the sounds, sights, and smells have put the signal in the green. There is no stopping it. No controlling it. It's all building, coalescing, into one pinpoint of space and time, right there between their legs.

Karina's pulling Natty into position as you're pulling out of her cunt. They both turn to face you, their cheeks pressed together, tits too, and their legs in a knot. They're lying in such a manner that they feel to you like an oasis in a hot desert, inviting, like a promised paradise, and it's calling you, tempting, and you can't hold yourself any longer.

You're rubbing yourself over the edge, and they're calling out to you in a desperate tones, still riding some faint traces of orgasms, "On us."

"Go on."

"Please cum on me, on us."

"Cum for us."

You barely hear their calls, and there's no fucking way you know who is saying what. It's just words of need spilling from two filthy mouths.

It takes only a handful of seconds, and then it happens. 

With a harsh spasm from head to toe, you feel it shoot forward, ripping free from your body, and pulsing as you paint their flesh. Spurts and ropes and slivers shoot up and over the girls. A little on a thigh, on their bodies, over their tits and all the way to their pretty little faces.

They're smiling like idiots as you cum. They're proud of it. They relish it. Natty's tongue moves around inside her lips, just getting another taste—a droplet or two. Karina's teasing as always, "Is that all?"

You're still forcing every drop out you can, the final bits dropping to their thighs.

"There's no way that's all of it, huh," Karina continues to tease. And then it ends, and your body lets go and you fall beside them. You simply can't stand any longer.

"I think that's all of it, Karina," Natty's giggling to herself. She's twirling her fingers over Karina's nipple, playing with the rope of cum that landed there. And Karina is humming out an almost silent cry, twisting under the touch. "Here, taste," and the offer is clear, and again Natty is surprising you.

She offers her own tit to Karina, willing her to lick your cum from it. And the act brings a gleam to Karina's eyes as she cups it, bringing it to her mouth to taste. She's sucking and licking and Natty's gasping at the sensation, and at the way Karina nibbles just a little—just a little too much for it to be painless.

You're laying and watching in awe at the debauchery of the scene and wishing you could watch it forever, or at least capture it. The girls are just lapping at each other now, filling their mouths with your seed and swallowing. Laughing. Panting. Moaning. Sighing. Gasping.

Their limbs tangle. Their tongues too. And it's then you realise, no matter how drained you are—completely fucking bone-dry—these two aren't even close to finishing. There's still a show to be enjoyed yet.

You shift just a little to find the most comfortable view, and Karina's taking control now. Slowly she rolls Natty onto her back, their legs still tied, in such a way that Karina can mount her. Natty's got a playful smile across her lips, looking up, seeing the glistening of cum and sweat shining against Karina's neck and cheeks and mouth, her entire gorgeous face soaked in the stuff.

Karina's getting rougher, her nails cutting into Natty's skin. A hungry bite here, a nip there, another scratch here. She's threatening to draw blood as red as the wine she drank. Right on the edge of true pain, but Natty's relishing it. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a small squeal. And you watch her buck and writhe. 

Karina grows ever more forceful—pinning her and keeping Natty in place. She's starting to drive her hips against her. The desire is clear; she wants Natty to a delirium.

You can do nothing but marvel at the sight. You may be raw, you may be sensitive, but you're here to enjoy the show that may yet last a whole night.

"Me and you now, Natty. Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes," the whimper slips out of Natty. "Yes, anything for you."

[mushroomwoods]

amidst the lonely nights

he would always remember your presence, and somehow it never got better like you said it would.

character — Fierce Deity, romantic/platonic.

cw — death/suicide, hurt/no comfort, confusing timeline.

oh haha, the hurt never gets better boys, it will actually eat you inside out and make you cry like i was while writing this. ;)

anyways, don't know what made me write this, but still, the food is served.

His being would forever be bound to loneliness, but that he had already acknowledged.

Many humans had seeked his presence before for many other reasons, power, allegiance, death and even friendship, and of course he always found those things utterly ridiculous, however there was something about you that just drew the deity closer.

Living a quaint, lonely life in the outskirts of some forgotten land, somehow reminding him of himself. The peaceful night's you spent laid under the sea of stars, the mundane routine followed every other day, the new practices you caught up after reading a worn book left behind at some abandoned cottage. It all only served to make the deity even more mesmerised by you.

The first time he appeared before you, was in a time you held yourself to learn how to brandish a greatsword, it wasn't uncommon or unheard of for common people to start learning how to use weapons, especially with the many wars that started raging around the world, but somehow he doubted someone like you would even be able to kill someone should the need arise.

It was a surprise however, how instead of running at the sight of him, you instead glared, lifting the greatsword enough to reach his waist line.

When he didn't react for many minutes tough, your only reaction was to sigh, turning your back to him and going back to practice. Not a single glance back at him.

The next time he reappeared was a week later, this time you only glanced at him once, before going back to washing a set of clothes you held in your arms.

And then it was three days later.

And when he got to himself, everyday, for at least a single hour he was there to observe you.

It wasn't until the second month that you talked to him.

“What is the war deity purpose for visiting my unbecoming presence every day?” Your voice scratched at the back of your throat from the disuse, but it sounded just perfect to him.

He shook his head, there was not a motive, at least not one know by him.

That day he was invited to sit beside you, while you flipped through the pages of a children tale you found in a rotting inn.

The war was slowly taking those lands, but you didn't seem to mind, living your life at leisure and all alone, refusing to move even if the world around you tried to force you to do so.

He envied you.

This type of freedom you gave to yourself. The lack of fear even when faced with the greatest of the dangers. The devotion you had to yourself and thus living your life to the fullest.

It was only a matter of time.

Until they got there, until they saw you as the enemy, until they tried to pull you away from him, as they always did.

But you were always an enigma, the interesting kind, the one who never lacked surprises, and ever the only one with the ability to break him whole.

The guards hadn't even unsheathed their weapons when he saw you, a bright smile crossed over your face, as if you regretted nothing, as if it was only right for you to part this way.

And thus his sword, the one he trained you with, the one he saw you brandishing every single day with some kind of newfound joy, the sword which he could finally use to save someone instead of killing. This sword that swore to protect you, killed you.

His sword painted in your blood, while the people stared at the scene both awe and horror. It was ethereal.

You were dashing, even in your last moments.

And possibly you'd always be, the only being that could plague his mind like that even in the break of dawn as he could only watch as time continued to flow even without you, not a single soul able to remember the pure joy that you could bring to another with a single tilt of your lips.

Even when you always reminded him that everything in life was fleeting, he always told himself that everything could be fleeting but the memories of you, which he would carry for the rest of his lonesome and immortal life.

[twignotstick]

So I saw an ask from @probably-not-a-rutabaga

Got sad, decided I should write sad

Here we are :,)

Words: 1,403

Warnings: Major character death (tho its implied it happened offscreen, so more just major character dead?), Grief/Mourning, general sad vibes [if there's anything missing here, tell me please!]

Other tags: tmnt: aberration, turtle tots (kinda?), sad turtle pile, all the kiddos are sad, not my characters, hurt/little comfort, bittersweet ending, no beta we die like- uh- :|

Summary: Leo finds something he never wanted to find.

Splinter hadn't left his bed for weeks.

It was no secret that he was sick. Leo had tried to keep that secret, but his brothers weren't stupid. They knew what it looked like when someone was sick. They had all been sick before.

They had just never seen it get this bad.

Leo tried to keep up hope, but every day was more terrifying than the last. Every time Splinter would start coughing, hold his eyes tightly shut and shake his head, or even just trip, Leo would be terrified. He just couldn't tell what moment would be his father's last. He didn't want it to happen. He wanted Splinter to be there for his life; for his little brothers'.

Donnie had been working tirelessly on a project, despite Leo's better judgment. Part of him wanted to scold his little brother for barely sleeping in favor of working, but the other, smarter part of him knew this was just how Donnie coped. Working until the bad thoughts don't feel so bad anymore. That was why, when Donnie was finally done, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It was Donnie's biggest project to date; a fully operational game console. Sure, it was an old Game Boy with only a cartridge of Tetris, but Donnie had saved it. He found it tossed in with some other miscellaneous materials Leo had grabbed from the surface, but it was completely unplayable then. The screen didn't work, and the sound (what little did play through the scratchy speakers) obviously didn't match up with the inputs. But somehow, with scraped together materials and a couple months of work, Donnie made it good as new. It even got a new coat of paint with Mikey's help.

Donnie was so proud when it was done, and all of his brothers gathered around to see it boot up for the first time and take turns playing.

Leo thought that Dad might like to see it, too. Maybe even take a turn.

“Dad?”

Leo shifted on his feet in the doorway, facing the dark room where his father had been for the past eternity. He saw his father's form laying under the blankets, but didn't get a response, as usual.

So he continued.

“Donnie finally finished the Game Boy. The one he told you about? It works perfect now!”

Splinter laid still.

“We all took turns playing Tetris. Donnie was really good at it.” He snorted under his breath. “We had to keep Raph from throwing it when he got mad. He wasn't that great at it…”

Silence.

“Mikey drew some really pretty designs on the back with the markers we found! They're all swirly and stuff.”

Again, silence.

“I thought you might want a go? I know you said you aren't that good with phones, but I thought…”

Too much silence.

“...Dad?”

Hesitantly, Leo approached his father's bedside. The sheets were laid neatly, just like when he had tucked Splinter in a few days ago.

A cup of water, left for Splinter to drink that day, was undisturbed on his bedside table.

Slowly, Leo lifted his hands to lay them on his father's arm beneath the sheets. He shook Splinter gently, just enough to wake him. He needs to drink, he thought, or he won't get better.

When Splinter's face stayed turned away, Leo started getting frustrated. “Dad, you need to at least look at me.”

Splinter did not turn, nor did he wake.

Leo sighed, then started climbing onto the mattress. Splinter had the nicest bed of all of them, but it was also the springiest, so it took a second for Leo to fully get his balance. Especially when he was trying to fit in the small space between his father and the edge of the bed. However, he was able to settle on his knees and look down at his father.

Splinter's face was lying to the side, and his dark hair was laid about on the pillowcase. He had neglected to cut or even brush it, so it was somewhat knotted at certain points. His eyes were closed softly, and his mouth slightly open.

His chest wasn't moving.

Leo reached over and hovered his hand in front of his father's mouth, checking for a breath.

Nothing.

“Splinter?”

He placed a small hand on Splinter's neck, searching for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Dad?!”

Leo grabbed his father's head with his hands, shaking it gently. Just enough to wake him up.

Splinter did not wake.

----------------------

At first, Donnie wasn't sure of what he heard. He turned the Game Boy in his hands off and lifted his head, seeing if he could find the source.

“What was that for?” Raph huffed, shoving into Donnie's side. Donnie put his hand palm out toward Raph in response, still not turned to look at him.

They sat silently for a moment, then Mikey spoke. “You were doing so-” Donnie covered his mouth to shut him up.

There it was. A sob, a sniffle, coming from elsewhere in the lair.

Leo was crying.

There was no need for words; in an instant, all three brothers were on their feet and getting out of the pit. Donnie was the first one to reach their father's doorframe. There he stopped, halting his brothers behind him.

Leo was curled over Splinter's body, holding it to his chest. With every shaking sob, he would clutch the body closer. Like he was scared to let go.

Donnie turned to face his younger brothers. “G-go back to the pit.”

“What? Why?” Raph spat.

“I said, go b-back to the p-pit.”

“But Leo's crying, and-” Mikey's eyes filled with realization, and he clasped his hands over his mouth as his eyes started to water.

“Go back to the pit!”

“FINE!” Raph hissed, grabbing Mikey's arm to drag him away. “Not like Leo would even want us there anyway.”

“But- But Papa-”

“He doesn't care, Mikey.”

Mikey's tears finally spilled when they were out of Donnie's eyesight. Breathing deeply, he turned to see his big brother in despair.

He approached the bed quietly, knowing that Leo had already heard their argument. Hesitantly, he crawled up onto the springy bed and took a place behind his brother. Leo was clearly trying to stop crying, now that he had a brother to be strong for.

Silently, Donnie reached under the covers to find Splinter's wrist, if only to confirm what he knew to be true.

Something in him screamed to leave- to run away. Maybe he could find some way to fix this. But the better part of him knew that the best thing- no, the only thing he could do was work to fix what was left.

So he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around his shaking brother, letting his weight ground him. Then, he let himself break.

Leo broke the silence.

“I don't know what to do, Donnie.”

He finally lifted his head and turned, letting Donnie see his reddened eyes just a bit. He couldn't look straight at his little brother.

Donnie inhaled deeply and hugged Leo tighter.

“You do what you c-can, r-right?”

They sat like that for a while. Leo holding onto the body in the bed, Donnie holding onto him. The shedding of tears wasn't addressed.

Eventually Donnie caught another sound, just barely coming from behind him. A shuffle, and a sniff. Weight fell onto the bed. It could be mistaken for one, but Donnie knew it was two. Raph's face, soaking wet, appeared to Donnie's right before flopping onto Leo's shell.

Mikey came up on his left, crawling up further. Donnie tried to grab the lip of his shell, but the smaller shook it off easily. He laid himself down right next to their father, grabbing his face and holding their foreheads together.

“Its okay Papa,” Mikey whispered, as Leo rested a hand on his shell. “W-we're here now…”

Leo's breath hitched, but he grabbed Mikey and pulled him closer. Raph leaned deeper in the space between Donnie and Leo, and Donnie took that as a reason to wrap his arm around the turtle. The only one that could bare to look at their father now was Mikey, though it was through a curtain of tears.

The hiccups and sobs started to fade. Four little turtles laid there and wept, soaking in what warmth their father had left before it all melted away.

As all things must.

----------------------

Hehehe

Again, these aren't my characters!! They belong to @probably-not-a-rutabaga 's awesome TMNT iteration, abberation! This fic is also just my take on how the turtles could have found out about Splinter's passing. That I wrote like, so fast-

I promise I don't just write sad stuff like this, but I just got inspired and couldn't control it. So, this is the first thing on my tumblr writing portfolio. My iteration (still unnamed, sadly) is more psychological introspective nonsense and spookiness with a sprinkling of sad, which is more my usual writing style! And still in the works,,

So in summary, check out tmnt: aberration, and thanks for reading this sad fic that actually made me tear up writing it! hahahhhaha

[wordsarelife]

Can you write a George Karim x reader fic with early morning cuddles? 🙏🙏

—daylight

pairing: george karim x reader

summary: early morning cuddles, mostly just fluff

you stretched you arms out, turning around in the bed and facing, what was meant to be your boyfriend. but to your worry, the side of the bed was empty, covers thrown away lazily and no trace of the boy you loved. there was a moment of hesitation, in which you considered just screaming his name, scared that something has happened, but before you could do anything, you heard the familiar scraping of a pen on paper.

as you looked up towards the desk, you could see the back of his head.

"Georgie?" you mumbled, voice still raspy, the tiredness not having left your body just now.

"oh!" he turned around to look at you "you're awake already" he had to snicker at the state of your hair, you always messed it up with your hands while you slept. not even his own hair was safe from it.

you threw a look towards the clock at your right and understood why George was questioning why you were already awake. it was only six.

"why are you up, baby?" you muttered and Georges cheek tinted pink by the nickname. but there was only so much you could see of his face, considering that it was so early and you were living in London. "come back to bed, so we can sleep some more"

George contemplated, before he finally shook his head "I'm sorry, y/n" he said "I really have to finish this"

"ugh" you replied "can't you continue working at like nine or something? if it's lockwood who's--"

"--it's not lockwood" George interrupted "I really want to finish this"

"do it later" you tried again "please, baby. come back to bed"

George had already turned around to his desk, when his head suddenly shot in the air at your words. the usage of the nickname seemed to absolutely confuse and flatter him at the same time. he threw a last look to the writings on the desk, before he got up and crossed the room.

as he came closer you could see how red his face had gotten. he took of his glasses and crawled into bed beside you.

"alright" he said, opening his arms, so you could lay on his chest "just promise me that lockwood won't ever find out about that nickname, okay?"

"you don't like it?" you pouted, turning your head so you could catch his eyes, he was already looking at you.

"of course I do" he took great offence to you thinking otherwise. "it's just-- I mean, you know lockwood. he wouldn't shut up about it"

"lockwood is a dick" you nodded, thinking back to that head size drawing you had done on the thinking cloth. you had never spent as much time fighting a ghost, then you had painting that picture of lockwood getting his head bitten off by a shark.

"I love you y/n" George muttered, while his eyes slowly closed. his hair was tickling your forehead and you smiled at the overworked boy, your overworked boy. glad that he was getting some sleep now, even if you practically had to flirt him back to back

is arms were draped around you, while you snuggled your head into the crouch of his neck, planting a kiss next to his collarbone, before you returned to your position on his chest.

"night, baby" you responded and watched as Georges cheeks grew flustered once again. then you closed your eyes. still wrapped up in the boy by your side.

it didn't even take a week, until lockwood heard of your new nickname for George, making fun of it the whole time the team was on a mission. later that day, you drew another piece of art, which featured lockwood being chased by a killer, holding an axe, while you and George stood next to them, getting married.

hopefully that scenery would come true some day. well at least half of it, you didn't really believe in weddings that much.

[soap143]

hiiiiii I was wondering if you would want to write about lee! hyunjin? maybe something similar the chan story but hyunjin has to paint while tickled or there's a belt that's ticklish which he has to wear while dancing??

if you don't want to you don't have to write it :)))

thank youuuu

AAAAH I love this idea! I hope you won’t mind that I wrote this for the “Eye for an eye” series. I just think this concept really fits in here. Happy reading! (just a quick lil reminder that you should read Challenge before or after this fic)

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Eye for an eye

pt. 2

lee!hyunjin

ler!chan

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Ever since Chan had gotten revenge on the first kid, the rest had been avoiding him in fear of being mercilessly wrecked. Minho, being the amazing lee he was, ratted out the leader’s plan immediately, causing everyone to never let their guard down.

However, this evening he was completely alone with Hyunjin in the dorm. Changbin and Han convinced Chan to stay home while they finish up all the work. The oldest smirked, plotting his sweet revenge…

He thought that Hyunjin was scrolling on social media or wasting his precious free evening doing something useless, but was pleasantly surprised to see the exact opposite “Woah, you’re… painting? Should I-” the kangaroo’s sentence was cut short as Jinnie groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance “Can you please leave? I’m really focused on finishing this painting. I’ll post it on instagram later for STAY to see.”

“God forbid me from disturbing you, my prince! Don’t you remember what you and the kids did to me last week? I thought Lee Know had told you.” Chan mocked, inching closer to his future victim.

“Haha, very funny. You can’t tickle me now. The paint. It’s gonna get everywhere. You’re gonna ruin my painting. I’ll die.” Hyunjin brainstormed ramdom ideas to get his hyung away from his ticklish self.

The aussie nonchalantly grabbed an empty canvas and a chair, walking towards the ferret. He placed the chair behind the painter and the canvas in front, replacing the unfinished painting with it.

“I think STAY would love to see how to paint a simple auto portrait… While being tickled.” the shorter stated, wrapping his fingers around Jinnie’s sides, not doing anything yet.

Hyunjin gulped, dipping his dirty paintbrush into a cup, filled with water. Then, he patted it dry onto a piece of paper. Lastly, he proceeded to grab quite a generous amount of paint onto his brush.

For STAY…

He started slowly with his face. It was just a simple little sketch, nothing too important anyway, so he didn’t really care about proportions. He was about to get tickled, so it would surely get ruined anyway.

As he was finishing up his chin and starting on the jaw, he felt a quick jab on his side, causing him to jerk the opposite way “Yah! Thankfully, the brush wasn’t on the canvas… I almost ruined it because of you!” Hyunjin whined.

The person responsable for the tall boy’s screams just snickered, poking him once again.The artists tried to protect his sensitive torso with one hand and paint with the other.

As Jinnie hurriedly drew the ears, Chan properly dug into the vulnerable spot, making Hyunjin flinch harshly “CHAN! Now you’ve ruined it! Do you see this big, dark line? That’s your fault!” the ferret dramatically gasped, repeatedly pointing at the horrible mistake.

“Excuse me? Chan? It’s hyung to you!” the shorter pointed out, shoving his wiggly fingers under the younger’s arms “YAHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP! IHIHI MUHUHUHUHUHST FIHIHIHIHIHINISH THIHIHIHIHS HAHAHAHA!” the tallest member in Stray Kids yelped, twisting side to side.

To his disadvantage, the aussie wasn’t in the mood to show any mercy “Remeber how you tickled me without letting me sing those beutiful lyrics out? I was dying, yet none of you stopped for even a minute to let me push those words out. Have a taste of your own medicine, Jinnie. Eye for an eye…” Chan ranted, drilling in between the long haired boy’s ribs.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEASE, IHIHIHIHI REHEHEHEHEALY HAHAHAHAVE TOHOHOHOHO- NOHOHOHOHO!” the talented painter tried to squeak his sentence out, only to be cut off by his own crazy cackles “Get to drawing, I really wanna see that beutiful result of your talent~” the kangaroo teased, mocking the way Hyunjin and kids tormented him.

The ferret quickly grabbed the paintbrush, splashing some abstract stains of paint, trying to resemble his hair “Wow, are those your beutiful locks of hair?” the older teasingly questioned the colourful puddles.

“IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHHAHAN’T- UGH! STOHOHOHOHOP, YOUHUHUH’RE ANOHOHOHOHOHYING!” the dancer tried to argue with the older, but was far too ticklish for that “Where are those beutiful eyes of yours? And your neck? I think you should draw yourself wearing a beutiful polo-shirt.” Chan suggested, squeezing his lee’s lower back.

Hyunjin went bonkers when the chosen spot was mercilessly attacked. In fact, he even got some paint on his face.

In a desperate act, he snatched his painting tool and smuthered his not-so-empty canvas in random strokes. Most of them were unsuccessful, landing nowhere near the face. He tried once more, this time making them look somewhat close to a nose, eye and a singular eyebrow.

“You’re doing great! Just finish up the other half of the face and you’ll be done!” Channie commented, grabbing the top of the dancer’s thighs and pushing his fingers rapidly in and out of the flesh. The worst part: one hand was being so painfully gentle and the other seemed to be melting into the ticklish skin with its aggressiveness.

“OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOK O-OHOHOK IHIHIHIHIHI’M DO-DOHOHOHOHONE!” the younger announced “Nu-uh. The head, it’s floating. You better add a neck before it falls to the ground!”

The painting in question was full of uneven lines, some of them not even properly connecting. Hyunjin’s supposed face was half empty. Not to mention that it was covered in zig-zaggy strokes, most of which went over the line that separated the visage from the backround. The backround in question was covered with those exact same abstract, uneven strokes, lines and stains of paint.

Both of the boys stopped to admire their work. It seemed so… Modern “Look at what we’ve created…” Chan dramatically sighed in admiration “Excuse me? Who’s we? This is all my job!” Hyunjin tried to protest, only to be lowered back down by a few pokes to the side.

“STAY is gonna love this!” the aussie exclaimed, suddenly taking out his phone and stopping the video recording “YOU FILMED THAT?!” the artist roared “You filmed me! And posted it. This is called revenge!” the leader snickered, running away to hide into the safety of his room, before the taller boy could catch up.

That very same evening, Hyunjin’s instagram account was updated with two posts. One with the original painting he was working on, and the other painting: which his oldest hyung helped him make…

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Hope you enjoyed! Do you guys like this series and concept? Me personally, I love these shorter fics. Can’t wait to write more. Have a good day/night!❤️🙂

[talentforlying]

GET TO KNOW ME BETTER! repost, don't reblog.

ALIAS / NAME: oxly! BIRTHDAY: may 1st ZODIAC: moo i'm a taurus, same as this old man i write HEIGHT: 5'4" anklebiter but i perch on countertops to be tall HOBBIES: writing, media ethnography, reading queer poetry, studying polari, singing, painting, playing star wars d&d FAV. COLOR: purple! i'm a lavender bitch, but also a plum bitch FAV. BOOK: inkheart by cornelia funke, my timeless beloved LAST SONG: alrighty aphrodite by peach pit just ended and devil's dance floor by flogging molly just started LAST MOVIE / SHOW: annihilation, love of my LIFE. i just picked up the third book in the southern trilogy a few weeks ago and when i have time to read i'm gonna devour that shit!! as for show, person of interest, also the love of my life RECENT READ: mary shelley's frankenstein!

INSPIRATION: hellblazer, of course. the world's end dir. edgar wright, the green room dir. jeremy saulnier, the ritual dir. david bruckner. the video game disco elysium. rhinoceros by eugène ionesco, stranger in a strange land by robert a. heinlein, something wicked this way comes by ray bradbury, the last days by adam nevill, everything's eventual by stephen king. i heard it through the grapevine - marvin gaye / anarchy in the uk - the sex pistols / sinnerman - nina simone / private life - oingo boingo.

STORY BEHIND URL: one of my favorite quotes from hellblazer that sums up what he's really about, at his core, not just the magic: "my talent's for lying. for sticking the knife in when people least expect it. then walking away with a smile and a wave before they even realize they're bleeding." it's what drew me to him as a character: his audacity, his willingness to look you right in the eye while he's stabbing you in the back. not just a trickster, but one that tells you outright to go fuck yourself, get tricked idiot.

tagged: yoinked from @devouraes tagging: i'm throwing darts at the dash, you get hit, you go for it

[stripperblvd]

Reefer Rick (Eddie Munson x Reader Pt 1)

Summary: Who the hell is Reefer Rick? And why the HELL is Eddie Munson dating her?

Warnings: Uhh idk drug use? But I mean come on…it’s Eddie,

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: Slight change event order for the drug deal scene. Reader is Eddie’s age, this part ends in angst but don't worry part two ends in a happy note.

“Afternoon” your whimsical voice wafted through the silenced woods, dragging out the word as you made your way towards Eddie, who was sitting on the infamous wooden table, the one you had spent most of your high school years on. As far you could remember the table had always been abandoned, which made it the perfect spot for you and Eddie to commune. The table held so many memories, your first kiss, which coincidentally was with each other during freshman year, the initials that you and him had carved there sophomore year, on your one year anniversary. To say you adored this place and the man that was currently located there was an understatement.

“Oh thank fuck,” he huffed out, dramatically dropping his head but opening his arms towards you as if he was offering you a grand sacrifice. “Missed you so much.” Eddie’s words were a little muffled as he finally was able to get a good hold of you, making you giggle with how swiftly he pulled you towards him, his cheek pressing right to your stomach as he hugged you close to him. “Aw baby.” you cooed, bringing him closer to you and rubbing his shoulders, the tension in his body slowly melting away as you worked his muscles, the palms of your hands cupping the sides of his neck to make him look up at you, pretty little coffee colored eyes winking at you as he smiled lazily. You leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, then his nose and jokingly avoiding his lips as you kissed his chin last.

“You know, not giving your boyfriend a kiss is a felony.” he whined, puckering his lips up at you as he gave your body a squeeze. His words drew a miniscule, breath laced laugh from your throat, your boyfriend’s dramatic antics always having a special part in your heart. “Hm, damn, maybe I should give him a kiss, don’t really feel like going to court.” you winked, finally letting your neck fall to meet his pink lips. Kissing Eddie was something you never got used to, even 5 years after you made it official it still never registered just how beautiful it felt. His mouth working against yours, tongue peaking out to swipe at your lip from time to time.  

“I have this deal and then Hellfire tonight. I can drop by and spend the night if you want? I was thinking maybe we could, I dunno have a day to ourselves tomorrow.” Eddie’s soft words lulled your eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of being together, seeing as majority of the week you had seen very little of each other. The idea was appealing, you had been talking about going to a good little store a few towns over, the idea that you could maybe find a few good posters or maybe some good cassettes to listen to painting a little grin on your face. “I’ll pick you up, yeah? I got a few things to drop off for Wayne.” the easy smile on your lips broke when you heard the rustle of some leaves, the unmistakable crunch of some thin twigs announcing the entrance of a girl you had….mixed feelings for.

Your neck cranes upwards, a small sigh mixed with an annoyed groan leaving your lips as you reach for the blunt that's neatly placed behind your ear, your fingertips grasping a hold of the paper as the other hand reaches to your jean’s back pocket for your lighter.

“Um…I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I can come back!” Eddie’s hand leaves you a little too quickly for your liking, both of you stepping to the opposite sides as you place the rolled up plant between your lips, your dominant hand flicking to spark up the lighter and encinerate the opposite end of the small cylinder, while the other reaches up to cup around the small flame that sizzles as it begins to burn the tail end of your blunt.

“No, no you’re fine you’re fine.” Eddie’s words are quick, that hint of nervousness that you’ve come to pick up from his voice so easily spotted as you shoot him a slight glare. But his eyes are trained on the small blonde that’s before both of you, her thin, cheerleader uniform clad frame almost looking pathetic between the two of you, who so similarly shared styles. It didn’t take a genius to feel the tension, especially when Chrissy Cunningham looked like a trembling squirrel, her hands clasped right above her abdomen as she nervously shifted the weight of her body between her feet.

“I’ll see you back at the trailer Eds.” you mumbled, shooting Chrissy a neutral look as to not scare her and with your words so did a puff of white smoke trail out, huffing to get most of it out before inhaling again and walking off. It’s not that you wanted to be bitchy with her, but something about Chrissy’s willingness to stick by absurdities while presenting the image of a soft, kind girl didn’t sit right with you. It didn’t help that you had previously worked for her father, who albeit better than her mother was no angel himself.

~

Back in Eddie’s trailer you bid Wayne goodbye, making sure he had a good helping of food for his break. “Thank you for the food kiddo.” he smiled, before making his way to his truck and shortly after exiting the trailer park. It warmed your heart that he had been so gracious of you, being like your father figure for all these years that you had known the Munson’s. You knew he reciprocated the feelings too, many a drunk night confessing to you through slurs that he couldn’t pick a better girl to be with his Eddie, that he was so glad the kid had found something so real so early.

But your blissful thoughts were interrupted by the hard to miss roar of Eddie’s beat up old van, the shaky motor rumbling through the park and the faint sound of music that absolutely blared from his speakers. You could hear his van park in the front, high fiving yourself for having taken the spot in the back of the trailer to make sure he didn’t accidentally run over a poor racoon trying to get behind. Your mind shifted smilingly, knowing that you had a pretty fun night planned, even if it really only meant sitting in your pjs and ordering a gigantic pizza and wings. But as long as Eddie was there, it didn’t matter. A night with him and the promise of a date tomorrow after so much time was what kept you on your toes for the entire evening and now that he was home you could finally put away any worries of what the week had brought.

However your giddiness was short lived, when you looked up only to meet the reluctant entrance of the one and only Chirssy Cunningham, your boyfriend pushing her right along as he closed the door, only pausing when he met your fuming gaze.

He looked like a deer in head lights, his dumb brown eyes popping wide open as he froze for a sec, his hand stiff on Chrissy’s shoulder, the leverage he’d been using to push her inside so they wouldn’t bump into eachother. Eddie’s other hand was still on the door knob, even if the door was already closed. Chrissy, on the other hand, looked as if she’d shit her little mini cheerleader skirt any time now, knowing that this wasn’t a good look for the boy behind her. Coming home late at night, dragging inside some girl that he didn’t really have any business being around, his girlfriend of god knows how many years sitting on the couch with a beer and no context as to why said cheerleader was being ushered into her boyfriend’s home.

You couldn’t help the boiling rage that was now seething from deep inside your chest cavity, your fingers gripping the bottle’s neck so fucking tight that you thought you might just break the whole thing. There was a small tremble that suddenly overtook your body, the need to hit something or maybe yell obscenities at the two stunted figures before you rising with every passing moment. What was he doing with her? What were they doing in his trailer? Why so late at night? You weren’t normally a jealous person, but something about Chrissy in the living room that you had previously been the only constant feminine figure in was starting to make your hands and fingers itch.

But you just slammed the beer bottle right down on the floor picking up your keys in a swift motion and rising from the sofa, your feet stomping through the small hallway that leads to Eddie’s room and the back exit of the trailer. It wasn’t fair, you knew that trying to start something would just end with you beating the poor blonde to a pulp in the middle of the Munson’s living room. Either way, your relationship was at risk, the thought that Eddie might throw it all away…nearly 6 years of being each other’s lovers. For someone like Chrissy Cunningham?

Next thing you knew you slammed the door behind you, your keys eagerly being pushed into its designated hole as you gripped the wheel maliciously, ignoring the burn in your eyes and the tremor of your arms as you immediately roared out of the park, without care that your car hadn’t had a time to start up. You didn’t know what was worse, the fact that you nearly ran over too many bikes while speeding away into the night and towards your old hideout, or the fact that even if you didn’t see it, you knew.

Eddie didn’t even follow you out. 

-

Hey guys, so sorry for being inactive for this past week, my schedule got kinda hectic and i currently have 30+ works in progress (which include your requests) thanks for being patient! 

[laurabeatriizz]

until the thousandth of now.

Even after all the warnings and discreet opinions thrown at you by your family, you were always sure that that man was the only one you thought it was wonderful to spend your whole life with and the only one you would accept to watch those stupid action movies for. that he liked so much.

You never doubted for a thousandth that he was the man you wanted to build a life and a family with. You always knew you loved him and nothing could ever change that.

I mean, until the thousandth of now.

Until you couldn't deny how guilty his gazes were and how cold his touch had already turned. You don't know exactly when in the last few weeks it started, your only certainty, denied in your mind with all your might, was that that was the first moment you doubted your faithfulness.

You never imagined imagining the woman Draken could be having an affair with with his and his daughter lying on his chest. Would she be blonde or brunette? Was she tall or short? Skinny or fat? Did she know you existed? Did she know you had a daughter?

You felt guilty for imagining that with the two-year-old sleeping on your chest, not just for her but for Draken as well. He never gave you any reason to, not until now.

"Hey." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he walked through the door noiselessly smiling at the position your daughter was in on the couch with you. "Girl's night?"

"No." You mumbled too lost to find another more concrete answer.

He wouldn't notice his tone, Draken was perfect at a lot of things but not good at that. Maybe that's why you didn't notice that you noticed his extra time away from home with the excuse of work and all the clothes that would arrive missing from the house.

"Something happened?" He noticed. Because even if you don't know it, he noticed that tone and that look.

He wasn't good at identifying emotions in a single word unless it was clear, but he was good at identifying you. He'd learned over the years to notice any change in her face.

"It happened?" For the first time you looked at him. "No, probably not."

He noticed your nose wrinkle at the faint tone of sarcasm when you said your last sentence and noticed even more the way you didn't smile.

Draken didn't say a word, just stared straight into her eyes with an indescribable expression. You hated that, you hated how much that look of his moved you to the point where you turned away from them.

"Something happened." He whispered almost inaudible.

"Migraine." You lied before lifting the little girl to bed.

Draken was faster than you, grabbing his little copy and carrying it upstairs to his room without a word. This was how you expected that night to end, the ending that had become repetitive over the past few weeks.

But that didn't happen when you moved into the kitchen and heard his footsteps coming down the stairs, it surprised you. First because he was running away from everything that would lead him to you, second because he was walking down the stairs holding a sheet that looked like one of the drawings the little girl drew.

He crossed the room heading to the kitchen where you were, stopped on the other side of the table with that look you didn't recognize and passed you the drawing across the table.

The drawing was of a two-year-old and didn't contain much, just two lines painted in one color mixed with another. You glared at him and that's when his hand flipped the page revealing a note from his diary.

— Kenny's still late and with parts of his robes missing, I tried not to think about it. I don't want my daughter to listen to me, she loves him and so do I, so I read on a stupid website that writing down what makes you anxious and burning would help.

SO FUCK YOU KEN RYUUGUJI —

You laughed at first remembering how desperate you were that day, so desperate that you drank a bottle of the wine you saved for emergencies. But then his eyes again met Draken's and he raised an eyebrow.

"I was drunk." You muttered. "It's not like it's a big deal."

"We can talk?" He asks sitting in the chair opposite him.

You sat across from him folding your hands on the table and feeling small against it, for the first time in weeks you would have a conversation that would last longer than five minutes. And that scared you.

"Mikey came to me." He went straight. "Or rather, I went to a friend of his and he found out."

Draken didn't usually bring up the subject of Manjiro Sano, he was always reserved about it. But you knew what Mikey meant to Draken and how different he was.

"I don't want you to be scared." He muttered avoiding her gaze. "He knew we needed money and offered us a job."

You were going to say something, but Draken was faster:

"I already figured it out. I took the job and then I took the next one, and the next one." Draken said tiredly. "It's over now."

You felt terrible for doubting him, you should feel terrible. But you smiled, again he looked like your Kenny and that cheered you up, but you realized what that meant and panic filled your lungs.

"Did you do a job for Manjiro Sano?" His eyes widened. "Shit. I mean, I'm sorry for doubting you, but did you do a job for a gang leader like that?"

"It wasn't anything that landed me in jail, I actually fixed his cars." He laughed.

"Shit." You cursed and cursed more for cursing when you have a two-year-old daughter. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No." He stopped you. "We are like this, we need the conversation or else we create a reality that hurts, I should have told you but I thought you would care. Thank you."

"For doubting you?" You looked down guiltily.

"For making sure my daughter didn't see the worst in me."

[sleepy-achilles]

Leon's Nightmare 2, Part 3- Gifts come in all shapes.

Tw- Violence and gore. Demonic stuff happening. I'm disappointed by the horror aspects of Leon's nightmare 1 so I'm trying my best to improve it here. Wish me luck.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Drew frowns at the kids as they make a mess. "I hope your planning to clean that up" drew frowns as athena moves to him. She just grabs his arm and he can't help but suddenly feel cold. "Athena?" Drew asks. "What did you do?" She asks. "What?" "Why did you hurt him?! WHAT DID YOU DO!" Athena screeches. Drews head snaps towards Leon who's suddenly has multiple stab wounds forming. Drews eyes widen in fear as the skeleton blade appears. A long dark body hand with sharp nails appear holding it. Drews breathing picks up as another hand appears by Leon's neck, squeezing, causing the neck to beging to crack and crunch.

Drew stares at the dark eyes staring back at him over Leon's shoulder. A wicked grin and grey skin, long curly horns. That's when a cruel laugh leaves the creature.

Drew screams as he jolts forward, he gasps and glances around his bedroom. Empty. Empty bedroom. "Leon? Leon!" He yells as he climbs out of bed. He's quick to run downstairs. "Morning dad" athena smiles from the dining room where the kids are eating. "Wheres your father?" Drew asks, sounding breathless. "Uh the study I believe he's painting." Athena tries recalling. "Yeah, asked if I could leave so he could focus. Said he had a dream or something." Ophelia shrugs around a mouth of cereal.

Drew rushes into the study. It wasn't really a study anymore, more of a art studio. The kids all liked drawing in it but the only people who got proper use from it was Ophelia and Leon. He pushes the door open to see Leon sat at a canvas painting. "Leon" he sighs. "Hey baby, didn't wanna wake you but I couldn't help it. Needed to paint this thing I saw in a dream last night. Thought this might help get it off my mind." Leon explains. Drew walks over and his heart stops.

The demon from his nightmare. "Um what was your dream?" Drew asks. "Its weird. We just spent the day together as if it was normal. As if we were friends." Leon chuckles. Leon puts the brush down, turning on his stool to face Drew. "Im sorry I left the bed. I know I normally don't I just needed this baby." Leon hums placing his hands on drews hips. Drew frowns as he cups Leon's face. "Thats alright..baby.." Drew mutters. "I love you" Leon whispers resting his head against drews chest. "I love you too." Drew promises as he hugs Leon close. He feels deep in his gut that this might be the last time for awhile. Drew squeezes his eyes shut as tears build and just rubs his thumb against the back of Leon's head.

"I love you.. "

------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheamus watches drew as he laces his boots. "You alright man? You seem..off..." sheamus asks. "Just been a long few weeks. With Leon's seizure, pressure from hunter about the tag belts and don't even get me started on H and Caspians school reports" drew sighs standing up. "How has he been?" Sheamus asks. Drew frowns and looks at their mutual friend.

Before he can answer, Leon strolls in. "Hey baby" Leon smiles as he walks over. Sheamus frowns as Leon kisses drews cheek. "Im going to be late home tonight. I've gotta talk business with hunter." Leon states. "Okay" drew nods. "Ill let the kids know" drew adds. "Good. Good" Leon nods. He looks at sheamus. "Looking good man" Leon smiles at him before walking off.

Drew sighs. What is he to do? No one wants to listen. He phoned taker this morning and taker stated he took a look and Leon is fine. Kane even looked. Drew needs so- "that's not Leon." Sheamus suddenly speaks up. Drews head snaps towards him. "What did you just say?" Drew questions facing him fully. "Thats not Leon. Leon would never call you baby for one, he hates that nickname unless it's towards an actual child or small animal. He would never stay late to speak to hunter. He never did for vince. If they needed to speak to him, they had to do it during the show or speak to him the next day. And finally, he's never nice to me. He never compliments me because he believes it will fill my weird obsession with him, but you and I both know it makes me try harder to try get him to be nice." Sheamus rambles.

Drews eyes widen. "Thank you" drew whispers hugging sheamus. "Thank you Sheamus" he pulls back. "It was him last night. But now? Now I'm not too sure" drew admits. "Ministry?" Sheamus asks. "Thats the issue...ministry would know these things. Its how he managed to hide last time. We never knew because he knows how Leon thinks and act." Drew admits. "Oh god..something new? No..that..that can't be good." Sheamus groans. "No. No it can't." Drew mutters looking back at the door.

------

Drew watches as Leon pulls his jacket and vest off. Drews eyebrows raise as he notices Athenas Cross is gone.

He glances at sheamus who also has noticed it.

Yeah. This isnt Leon.

-----

Athena frowns as she walks into her bedroom. Her eyes immediately land on the cross dangling from her desk lamp. The cross that should be around her Papas neck.

She reaches forward and grabs it only for her breathe to be knocked out of her.

She gasps and stumbles back, her back hitting something..or someone.

She turns and stumbles back again at the sight.

"Its alright baby girl...I'm not here to hurt you" the raspy voice tries to soothe. Athena watches as the red haired woman kneels. Her skin burnt and ruined, but her hair? Her hair and her piercing green eyes are perfect. "W-who are you!" Athena barks holding out the cross. It doesn't do anything which throws her off. "Im Athena. Your great grandmother." She smiles. Athenas eyes widen. "Grandad takers mama?" Athena asks. "Yes sweetie. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."

"Help me?"

"Help you."

"Help you save your Father."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Drew runs a hand over his face as he walks into the house. He pauses after the door shuts. For a house full of four children, it's awfully quiet. "Kids? Kids! I'm home!" Drew calls. "Shush!" Caspian barks from the kitchen. Drew furrows his brows as he walks towards the youngest. He stops in the doorway as he sees the kids sat around the table with candles, holding hands. Two of the kids holding hands to a empty space.

"What the hell?!" Drew barks flipping the lights on. The kids groan and protest at their dad. "We were trying to save papa! You've scared her off now!" Athena barks. "Im sorry what?!" Drew demands. "Great grandma! Athena can see her! She's like grandad taker, uncle kane and papa! She was helping us contact papa!" Ophelia explains as if it's obvious. Drews eyes widen.

No. No.

Athena was supposed to be normal. She wasn't supposed to be like Leon and taker.

Takers mother is like them?

Of course she is.

"Jesus" drew whispers. "You know that isn't papa! Why won't you help us?" Athena asks. "Its not that simple! That's why!" Drew snaps grabbing his phone. He pulls up takers number but pauses.

He glances at athena, she's staring at him with pleading eyes.

He quickly swaps to shawns number.

"Oh hey drew"

"Shawn..we have a problem. A purple problem."

"I know. I'm glad you finally called. I'll be over as soon as I can."

Drew looks at his phone as the man hangs up. "Of course. Can always rely on you Shawn." Drew whispers with a small smile. "Grandpa?" H asks. "Yeah-" "Grandpa sees things. He has done ever since he moved into the valley. Dad's also started seeing things since marrying papa. He believes there nightmares. There not." Athena explains to the youngers.

Drew pauses. How does she know that? "Grandma athena told me." Athena hums. Drew frowns. "Clean up kids. Grandpa is coming." Drew orders, moving to the table and blowing a candle out.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Humming of tip toes thru the tulips echos around the empty space.

The lost and conflicted man cups his hands around the back of his head, arms covering his ears. He rocks back and forth trying to block the stupid song out.

A cold hand cups the back of his neck. "You must not give up now. We cannot let him win. Not anymore. Not now." The glitchy voice states. "Why? Why should I trust you?" "Because he betrayed me. He tricked and betrayed me. Its time to stop hiding in the shadows. It's time for me to seek revenge.-" "to stop being his bitch?"

"Exactly. Now get up."

[ekkurea]

Your art is so beautiful. May I please have tips for doing digital art and maybe drawing. I’m trying to improve my art skills, both pencil and paper ☺️

Hello! Thank you so much! I don't even know what I can do to help. But I will try to tell you everything I can remember and maybe some of it will be useful to you. Although, you've probably already heard/read it all or experienced it yourself.

Progress in drawing (and not only) rests on "several pillars"

STABILITY, ANALYSIS, INSPIRATION (Continued 👇🏻 And some of my old drawings)

Perhaps we should start with the last one, inspiration. Do what you love, love what you do. In addition, I advise you to clearly define for yourself what the rational purpose of your work is. I spent a lot of time wondering why I should create my own art if there are already millions of cool artists. Find your benefit to yourself, others, and the world. This will help in difficult times when the wave of emotions subsides.

Perhaps we should start with the last one, inspiration. Do what you love, love what you do. In addition, I advise you to clearly define for yourself what the rational purpose of your work is. I spent a lot of time wondering why I should create my own art if there are already millions of cool artists. Find your benefit to yourself, others, and the world. This will help in difficult times when the wave of emotions subsides.

Lack of stable practice. For various reasons, I often quit drawing and had to go back to the beginning every time. Drawing is about knowledge and skills. So even if you remember the structure of the skull and the process of drawing, your hands and brain still need time to adjust technically.

If you wanted to hear some practical step-by-step actions, then unfortunately I won't be able to help you with that. You need to visually show the process (and there are endless topics to study) with explanatory support and feedback on the final result. Perhaps someday I will be able to open my courses or share quality tutorials with you.

Maybe this quick tip will help you. If you are just starting out, I would advise you to draw more quick sketches, small finished drawings. I also like an old saying. "Your work should look complete at any stage." Whether it's a sketch, working with color or whatever. It doesn't mean that you have to dwell on each of them. It means that you need to have a basic understanding, and even if it's not perfect, you should be able to do each stage. I hope I was able to make that clear.

But also don't be afraid of full-fledged illustrations that require a lot of sweat. Why do my words contradict? For example. At the institute, we hardly ever made quick sketches or small illustrations. We painted few pictures and spent several weeks on each one. This is not good. Because while we were trying to perfect the coloring of the picture, we were already "forgetting" how to work with composition. And as I said, regularity plays an important role and it is a great exercise for the brain. So take breaks, alternate your workload, and always learn something new to see progress.

I was able to test how much better it works on my own students (I started teaching at a private art school in my final year of university). Children who refused to do quick exercises quickly burned out on long, full-fledged drawings. Children who drew only quick sketches were afraid of difficulties and as a result drew worse and worse. It was only when I had to insist on maintaining a balance that they started without enthusiasm at first, but later said how great it was and were grateful. We also alternated topics, from free choice of anime or anything to classic still lifes. They learned to love both.

By the way, it was while teaching that I realized how important it is to structure information and drawing stages in your head. To check if you have learned everything well, try explaining and teaching others. You will immediately notice if you have any gaps.

Since we're on the subject, I'll tell you about my path, which is quite typical. But I promised to show you some of my old drawings. Unfortunately, most of the photos have not survived, but here is what I found. And while some of the drawings are still at home in my hometown, the drawings from the university were successfully sold to junior students (haha, does it work like that for you too?).

Beginning. Art school (5-11 years old). Most of the time fooling around with peers, the rest of the time being forced to draw something you don't like. Complicating factors: the complete absence of a learning process (teachers did not show or explain anything at all and everything was done at the level of children's intuition). A few high-quality tutorials on the Internet would have given me more than all the training there (we can talk separately about how difficult it is to find high-quality drawing courses even now. I had no luck with that at all. Pay attention not only to how the courses advertise themselves, but also to what their students can do, what they study, how the material is presented, what teaching methods are used... Don't waste your money). The result: I hated drawing. I didn't even want to think about a sheet of paper and a pencil. And I say this with all the love for the memories of those times. And yet, I'm still grateful for my childhood.

Still lifes and nature are interesting! I realized this when I became an adult, gained experience and saw the meaning and beauty in them, and then I became sincerely interested in the process. If they tell you that by painting still lifes you will learn to paint anything, they are not lying. It is a good base for understanding shapes, textures, colors and space.

By the way, an additional problem of motivation at that time was that at that time, becoming an artist, designer, illustrator, animator, drawing anime or something similar was on the level of "becoming an astronaut". At the time, I didn't even think about the possibility of this. "You just have to find a normal job." Do you know what I mean? It's good that times are changing.

Already at the construction college (I was planning to become an architect) (I was 14-15 years old), I started drawing in class out of boredom. I drew what I was interested in. I was surprised myself, but this accident (or was it?) marked the beginning of everything. I still consider those times to be the best for my mental health and my creativity. I still can't get back the "wings" of inspiration and carefree spirit I had. Ah, youth (ha ha). Unfortunately, then I had to give up everything again and go to work alongside my studies.

The idea that I could really become an illustrator was also a matter of fate. I saw one artist from my city who "made it". I looked at her path and thought that I wanted to do it too. So, to try and not lose what I already have, I entered two universities at the same time (to study engineering and graphic design). I like to be autonomous and set an example for myself, but it's also good to be inspired and learn from others.

By the way. Looking at others too much became my big problem during my university years. I faced the problem of analyzing my work and other artists. I couldn't see myself, felt incredible pressure and was torn looking at professionals of different styles and directions. There were too many of them. It was killing me morally. It's better to drop the fear. Easy to say, but sometimes hard to do, I know.

Write down a few areas (fanart, book illustration, character development) and try each one. Choose a few top authors in each area. You can analyze what is currently relevant and for which audience and publications. The current style and color scheme in the industry may even depend on the country. For example, in Asia, children's book illustration has its own favorites, which are significantly different from Europe. Think about who you are working for.

If you choose to go your own way, focusing only on yourself, I also want to reassure you. Each of us already has a style. It is the way we draw now and what we will add during practice (colors we like, techniques we may have seen from someone else, etc.). It's like a snowball that gets bigger as it travels. Only in practice will you realize what is truly yours. Besides, we don't know where life will take us. I honestly could not even imagine that I would be lucky enough to paint fanarts. So you shouldn't choose one narrow direction for the rest of your life. We change and so does our path, which indicates our development. Focus on what you can try right now. This will give you the first impetus.

It's quite interesting that one artist can have a radically different style depending on whether they work with traditional materials or digital. I know an illustrator who likes to draw nature in classic realism, but on a tablet she draws bright stylized drawings. You can be different and that's okay. And I was the person who couldn't get used to drawing on a tablet for years. It can be difficult to find your tools and re-adjust, to get used to other feelings.

About the process. Before you start, make sure you have all the information you need (if you are not just painting for yourself, for relaxation). Sometimes it happens that you have a task, but without clear requirements. It's better to ask the customer (or if you're drawing for yourself, ask yourself) about the idea of the drawing, the format, the technical requirements, the audience it's for, what should be emphasized, what color scheme, what is the reason for it... The more details you know and the clearer you imagine what the result should be, the less likely you are to have to redo everything. This is an opportunity to thank all my customers who provide me with great quality references! Some of them even write a whole story about the characters and the idea and atmosphere the illustration should have. Thank you so much! Thanks to this, I understand your thoughts better and the illustrations become more "alive".

[jerirose]

how long have you been drawing? i used to be really into drawing when i was in high school but a chronic illness has made it really hard for me to hold things like pencils, pens, markers, and styluses so i had to give it up. you're just really good with your art and i'm super jealous.

Hi Anon!

Firstly, please don't be jealous 😔 though I very much understand where you are coming from and I'm so sorry that Chronic Illness has taken away something you love (I can very much relate).

Secondly, to answer your question I've been drawing literally since I could hold a pencil! I was ambidextrous as a child (left hand dominant) and my dad loves to tell me stories of how I'd work on two completely different drawings at once, sometimes at different stages of each drawing. That was until school forced me to use my right hand and I lost my left-handedness and my ambidextrousness.

I drew all the way up until High School as well, I was an A+ student in Art Class but my teachers weren't great and since I was a "gifted child" my parents really, really fed into it and milked it for all they could, which really tainted my love for art, so I dropped my pencil for a camera when I was 15 and pursued that as a career and went on to college to study photography. Chronic illness and disability took that from me so I understand how much it hurts and how sad it can be loosing a creative outlet you love.

I do traditional art now once in a blue moon, basically whenever the mood hits and I've done digital art on and off for the last 8 years, mostly painting one or two things a year and then not touching my tablet again (because I couldn't get my hand-eye coordinationnto work and it was annoying), until last June when I decided for some strange reason to get an XP-Pen, I've literally no idea why or what drove me to do so, but made it far easier for me to do digital art, even though it took me like 3 weeks after it arrived to touch it. (I'm literally so stubborn and I will continuly try to find ways to do what I want to pursue). And I've been doing art seriously, for the first time since I was 15, since July last year. (And by seriously I mean, I work on my art skills most days for at least 2 hours if my health/body permits it, sometimes (like yesterday 11 hours) please don't be me 😅 it's less than healthy but I do take a lot of breaks)

I have a neurological disorder that makes anything and everything I do painful and there are some days where holding my stylus is very painful, but again, I'm stubborn as hell and if I can push past the pain I will - I also take breaks frequently throughout my art sessions and do lots and lots of hand exercises too! But it can be difficult and on some days I can't even hold my phone or type because the pain is too bad and it's very disheartening, so I completely get how you feel and I know that me pushing through the pain is something that not everyone can do in my situation either.

[probablyintensemuses]

The Happenings In the Art of Starting Over

Summary:

James Buchanan Barnes is a broken man who is whisked away to the remote and serene land of Wakanda. His colleagues begin to believe if there is anyone who could try and help him it will be Irene. And try she will. But healing Bucky won't come easy, he is stubborn and scared and wants nothing to do with Irene and her powers. Helping Bucky will be a journey of trials and tribulations, Irene knows that. And yet, she still saunters over to him with a smile.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Mutant! OC

Word Count:

I do NOT give permission for my work to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. My work is my own.

CHAPTER TWO

Irene preferred the cold. Perhaps that's why she enjoyed sleeping in a tank top, and training in a tank top. She at one point believed in her past lives she was some species of cold-blooded reptilian. Perhaps a gecko, as they too could change shades.

The last week had been horrific. Although she was locked in the compound, Irene hadn't spoken to Wanda. She knew her friend was furious she had signed the accords. Vision claimed Wanda felt discarded by Irene's decision.

But Irene just wanted her to see it from a different perspective. The consequences that came with their continuous freelanced heroism. Ross was right, they were practically vigilantes. And Irene just wanted to do what was best for them all.

But Alas, Wanda hadn't seen it that way, and she wasn't the only one. Of course Tony gloated about the compound knowing his precious Irene has taken his side—Natasha too.

But Irene couldn't ignore that Steve skipped out on their usual morning coffees as she taught him more sign language. Or how Sam slightly chuckled at her jokes now and didn't bellow out like he'd use too. She was observant, her family felt betrayed. But secretly, so did she.

Irene walked into the kitchen. With her presence, Steve and Sam's conversation ceased. She rolled her eyes, this act was getting old. If they had something to say, the could just say it.

"Don't stop on my account.' She spoke up, pulling the eggs from the refrigerator. "Not like I can hear you anyways." She pointed to hear ear lobes that were missing her hearing aids.

"Why don't you have them in.' Steve sat his coffee down, steam still rolling from the lip of the mug.

Irene shrugged, moving from the refrigerator to the seasoning cabinet. "Felt like painting them today." She closed the appliances.

"Isn't that dangerous." Sam said, as she continued to read their lips.

She shrugged once more. "Why do you care, you've barely spoken to me in a week."

Sam scoffed.

"That doesn't mean we don't care." Steve signed.

"I did what i thought was best, for us." Irene signed back, the room suddenly silent.

"So did I." Steve signed again, watching as Sam's eyes drew back and fourth between them.

"You're going to get arrested,' she said this time, letting loose a shaky breath free from her chest. "or worse."

"We will be fine.' Steve said. "It's you I worry about."

"Why?' She frowned. "I'm not the one turning myself into a vigilante and posing as a hero."

"That's how you see us?" Sam interjected.

"Right now, yes! You're being unreasonable and pretending it's an act of selflessness." She glared between them both.

"Irene, cut it out!' Steve shouted. "You wouldn't know selflessness if it fell right in front of you."

Irene stepped back from Steve as her eyes widened then narrowed. She slammed the egg carton down, forgoing her breakfast. Some days she despised being partially deaf. Today, was not one of those days. Because the last thing she wanted to do was hear what Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers had to say as she flounced away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene knew Steve could be stubborn, he was an old man after all. But she never knew he could be so mean. What had she done to deserve being called selfish? Her actions weren't selfish, and even if they were, they were her choices. And she refused to let anyone take that away from her, again.

Irene wiped the teal paint off onto her pants, carefully dipping the paint brush into the acrylic paint. She hadn't had much to do these days, so she decided on a fun project for herself—a distraction she hoped.

She dipped one paint brush into a brownish red shade and painted small flowers over the teal she had coated her hearing aids in. She still remembers the day Tony gave these to her. The moment she had put them in, it had given her life a whole new meaning.

Tony couldn't cure her partial deafness. But with the hearing aids sounds became somewhat coherent, they were just muffled. Nevertheless she could hear what was important, and that's all that mattered.

Without them, an ill ringing noise pieced through the cabinet of her ears. But so many years with that sound, she'd just gotten use to it.

Irene smiled at her hearing aids, blowing on them to give them the extra push they needed to dry. She sat up and readjusted her posture, cringing as she heard her back bones crack. But as her back arched over the top of her desk chair, she saw Friday in the corner of her room flashing red.

She immediately stood up, looking at her door then looking back at Friday's flashing lights. Tony had told Irene why he'd installed the lights for her around this compound and others. And it only meant one thing—danger.

Quickly, Irene slipped on a pair on gym shoes and a sweater. Walking through her bedroom door her eyes widened in fear. Bands of people whisked past her face running away from the foreseen danger down the hall.

Irene watched the hysteria on the faces of those who ran by. She rolled up her sleeves in preparation of what she might face. But before she could round the corner a man was thrown into the glass behind her, shattering it. Splinters of the glass slicing into her calf.

She winced, bending down to assess the wounds. On the floor she was at eye level with a pair of black boots that slowly stalked over to where she was knelt down.

Her eyes slowly peeled up and was met face to face with a man. She'd seen this man before. Not only in Steve's head, but on the news. This man was the winter solider.

Irene was typically the avengers defense. Using her shapeshifting and psionic abilities to distract their enemies. She was not an offensive fighter, and from what she'd heard about the winter solider, she was screwed.

Irene quickly stood up, turning to make a run for it. But it seemed before she could even move, his hands were grappled around her waist. And in a split second she was thrusted above his head and tossed behind him, landing in a pile of glass. She cried out in pain, rolling in the glass as she cradled her side only making it worse.

She used her palm to push herself up from the ground. With slick thinking the outline of her body flashed purple, suddenly changing shades into Steve Rogers. She walked over to Bucky slowly.

"You know me, Buck." She held out her bloody hand, feeling confident in Steve's shape. "It's okay." Her voice was soft.

But that only seemed to anger him as his nostrils flared. He raised his metal arm slapping Irene in the face. She flew backwards, her body doing somersaults in the air until she made a painful landing onto a wooden table. It collapsing when she collided with it.

Steve's facade dissipated, her nose burned and bled. She had no time to react before Bucky's hand was around her neck, squeezing tightly. She clawed at his face, her eyes pouring with tears. Her legs dangled and flapped around like a fish out of water as he lifted her higher into the air.

She didn't know what came over her, rather it was the grace of her maker or just the fear she held inside at this moment. Irene let go, the veins that painted her body suddenly glowed purple along with her eyes.

A new energy emerging within her, she lifted her shaking hands and grasped them onto Bucky's temples almost ritualistically. His blue eyes widened at her warm touch, before his iris's matched the purple which coursed through Irene's body.

And as if she was heavier than a ton of bricks, Bucky dropped to floor along with Irene's body. The world around them settling into black.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene gasped, like a baby being born, like it was her first breath. She frantically touched her body. She was wet, and oh so cold. The kind of cold she didn't like. This chill frightened her—like winter.

Irene stood up, her bare feet sloshing around in a freezing pool of water that waded up to her knees. She could have swore she dawned shoes before this.

She shivered pulling her soaking sweater closer to herself as she marched through the water. Suddenly taking in an even stranger part of this harrowing territory. It was black, pitch black. The only source of light seemed to be the one that illuminated her frame and casted onto her like a shadow.

"Hello?" She yelled, the only response was her own.

"Hello!" She tried again, her voice rasping in horror as she trailed along.

"Somebody!" She ran, her legs burning as she pushed through the water. Her eyebrows bunched as the water picked up pace going from still water to a rapid current.

Irene yelped out, tripping and falling face front into the water. Then being pushed through the current. She paddled trying to keep up with the waves.

"Help me, Tony!" She choked on the water that only seemed to get deeper.

She struggled more against the waves, then suddenly her back slapped against a slab of ice. Tears poured down her face as the water drained away, almost as if someone had flushed it out. And now the chill had returned, making Irene tremble, but not from the cold.

She used the ice she had been pinned against to help pull herself up. Her legs wobbled as she was exhausted. She wanted this nightmare—this hell to end. But she would soon find out, it had only begun.

Irene screamed in fright. The cold object was a block of ice and within that a man stuck out, the man who had previously tried to kill her. And suddenly it dawned on her. She was physically inside the mind of the winter solider.

"No." She whispered to herself, falling to her knees.

"No.' Irene clenched her eyes closed, slapping her temple violently. "Snap out of it, Irene! Snap out of it!" She shouted.

But as she opened her eyes, to her gloom dismay she was still there. Still alone with Bucky's frozen body. She didn't know what to do, was this how she died? Or was she already dead and trapped here within his mind.

Irene fell to her knees, cradling herself in defeat. She had never physically brung herself into a mind before. She had only transferred thoughts, dreams and illusions—even nightmares. But this was a first, she felt completely powerless and out of control once more.

She allowed more tears to stream down her face as her throat closed up. And within a brisk moment, something cold, colder than anything she had already been surrounded by rolled onto her feet. It was a chunk of ice, she looked up as her eyes were blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes.

And before her was Bucky, coughing up water. Only he looked different, his body was frail and his hair was short. Irene got up onto her hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him. She didn't speak, she wouldn't be able to hear him without her hearing aids.

The closer she crawled towards him the further he crawled away. It was a game of cat and mouse until she finally opened her mouth.

"I won't hurt you." She said gently.

"Get away from me." His voice was hoarse and agitated.

Irene's eyes focused on his lips. "Please, I'm scared too. I only want to help you."

"There's nothing you can do!" He hollered, punching the remaining ice besides him.

She crawled closer to him. Kneeling before him, as he hide his face within his legs. Slowly, she steadied her hand and placed it onto him.

"I want to try something, if you'll let me." She asked, making sure her eyes were already on his lips as he looked up at her.

"What?" His eyes rimmed with tears, he was just as frightened as her.

"I'll show you." Irene grabbed his hand, her heart pained slightly as she felt Bucky flinch underneath her touch.

Irene closed her eyes, her finger tips pressing into Bucky's temple. They both groaned and trembled in pain. Irene screamed out, her body feeling as if it was being ripped in two. And just as before, she and Bucky laid weightless, their bodies colliding with the cold water. Again the world fading black around them both.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene's scream broke through the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse. A set of strong arms wrapping around her as she hyperventilated, unable to stop herself from crying.

"Sam." She gasped for air, her heart rate slowing down.

"It's okay." Sam put Irene's hearing aids in, the world stoped piercing around her. "You're safe."

"Irene." Steve kneeled down in front of her, his body dirty and bruised. "What happened?" He spoke softly as Sam caressed her curly hair.

"I—I don't know how." She took deep breaths, holding her hand against her thumping heart.

She turned around, jumping in fright as Bucky sat discombobulated behind her. His head weaving back and forth, he was just as exhausted as them.

"I got in his head, Steve." She sniffled, pointing at Bucky. "I don't know how, but I was there; It was so cold, and dark."

"What do you mean, you always get in peoples heads?' Sam questioned. "And why are you so wet?" He pulled back from her, observing his now damp clothes.

"That's just it!' She popped up. "My mind wasn't in his head—that I'm use to. It was both my mind and body somehow."

"That's why I'm wet." She peeled off her sweater.

"You try that shit again,' Bucky's voice was as hoarse and agitated as Irene remembered. "It won't take the  words of hyrda for me to hurt you."

"It was an accident." Irene whispered.

"Accident or not, I don't need you in my head. I got enough of that going on." His fist pulled tightly together.

"Buck." Steve sighed, placing his hands on his hips, condemning his best friend.

"No it's fine.' Irene held her hand up. "It was a fluke reaction to you squeezing the life out of me." She pointed to the browning bruises on her neck.

Bucky's head hung low as he shook it back and forth. "Yeah, what else did I do?" He grumbled.

"That doesn't matter," Steve said as Sam wrapped his jacket around Irene. "What matters is Irene pulled you back."

Irene gave Steve a dazed look of bewilderment. "What?" She folded her arms over her small chest.

"Whatever happened between you two, it stopped him on his psychotic rampage." Sam said.

"Oh my gosh.' Irene slapped a hand to her forehead, pacing. "How could I be so stupid." She scoffed.

"What?" Steve questioned her.

"I think I spoke to his subconscious." She revealed breathlessly.

"What does that even mean?" Sam retorted.

Irene took a seat on one of the dusty crates that were scattered about the place. "When I was inside Bucky's mind, there was a version of him.' She began. "And I'm assuming since this Bucky doesn't remember our conversation too vividly, I wasn't necessarily speaking directly to him."

"So you spoke to the parts of his mind not tainted by hydra.' Steve said.

Irene nodded, sighing now. "The parts I believe even they can't get to. Parts only someone like me can."

Bucky's eyes frantically flickered back and forth between both Steve and Irene as they communicated.

"What is she saying." Bucky stood up abruptly, making Irene jump.

"She's just saying she can help you, Buck. Calm down." Steve said as he watched Bucky's chest heave and fall with anger and confusion.

"I should leave," Irene announced as she stared at Bucky who could hardly face her. "Tony's probably running frantic looking for me."

"I'll get her halfway," Sam announced, wrapping his arms around Irene.

"Why only half?" Irene paused their walk.

Steve turned to look at her, his hand still holding Bucky's shoulder. "Because like you said early, we're vigilantes now."

Irene shook her head. She knew this would happen eventually. That in the end, they would all be the architects of their own demise. It was simply fruition now.

[taegularities]

Hello, lovely Rid 💕💕

I'm sorry in advance for being a little negative but I have the urge to vent a little and since you make me feel so comfortable and understood, I'm coming to you 😔😔😔

You know that feeling when you have so many things that you want to do that you just end up doing nothing? Well that's basically how I've been feeling this whole time while I was on my two week break from uni. And what makes it worse is that all of those things I wanted to do were things I do for fun and not ones I have to. I've just kind of been really overwhelmed with the amount of content coming out from various places (including bts) and that's made me feel a little burnt out I think? I also used to read books and watch movies so much more often than I have been recently. And there are so many lovely fics that I've wanted to check out but I just haven't had the motivation to do any of that 😔😔😔 And I know that now that I've started school again it will get worse before it gets better until I set up a new routine with my new schedule. It feels a little silly to be complaining about something like this but it's something that's been making me sad for a while now and today it hit especially hard for some reason (probably because I'm getting my period 🙄🙄🙄)

I never make myself do things that I don't really want to do, so I guess I'll just take it easy like I've been doing until the motivation comes again. Maybe now that I'll be busier with uni, it will make me want to do my hobbies more in my free time 🤔🤔🤔

Anyway, Rid, thank you so much for listening and creating a space in which I feel so safe and comforted. I really appreciate it, especially in times like these 💞💞💞

How are you doing, lovely?

dearest ivi <3 you radiate nothing but positivity around here, so it's okay to feel down sometimes. don't apologise for it, okay? 💕

i don't think any of what you said is silly, quite honestly. i absolutely know where you're coming from, and i think it's not unusual! after graduation, i felt really good bc i thought i could indulge in hobbies a little more. i drew, painted and wrote again after months, but even all that became draining after a while.

since you finished exams and an entire semester, maybe what your body needs is absolute rest. and with that i mean stuff that you absolutely do not need your brain for. when we watch movies or read books and fics, we're still focusing, right? maybe you could try going for a long walk, or get lunch/dinner with friends, or make a long playlist and listen to it?

and yes, i'm happy you added the last bit bc definitely, definitely do not force yourself to do anything you don't feel like doing! like, even if it's a hobby you love, when your body says no, that's okay. sometimes we just don't have the energy to do stuff, you know? i'm sure you'll adjust to your schedule, and once you have, take your time for hobbies whenever you feel the urge to (you're right, sometimes we crave free time more when we don't have it lol so it'll be okay!). if you ever feel like you can't, just take a rest (that includes my fics btw !! i know i tag you, but it's okay to take your time <3).

don't worry, yes? we go through weird funks sometimes that we can't quite figure out, but i promise it gets better. and if it doesn't, you can vent anytime, bc i know even getting it off your chest helps a lot. i'll be here anytime, and i actually feel very very flattered that you consider me a safe and comforting place/person 🥺 sending love and hugs, always 🫂🤍

i'm okayish, love! i'm feeling unproductive and overwhelmed at once – idk what that strange mood is, but my mind's been very foggy these days, and i've not been sleeping well. but hey, as i said – we'll get out of this !! 💕

[mood2you]

Blog 13: A Dollar Early

I'm writing this a day early. I thought of a joke for my "finish a book everyday" challenge I started on the 15th. I have 8 books open right now, 3 or 4 of them I'm seriously edging. I read plenty of books, it doesn't really matter what I think of them. I know I talk about essays, but frankly every book is not that remarkable. What's up with "Angels Don't Knock!" do you really have to DIE to be a happy wife? EVEN if you don't settle for the boring rich guy? The publisher is explcitly religious but at least they're not Mormon. I might just not read all 4 of these, yet they have a little charm. The recap is seriously lazy, copy pastes sections from the previous book, which is good because I have books 1, 2, 4, and 6, out of seven or eight, but it doesn't matter maybe... I'm one of those "you have Roald Dahl on the shelf?" booktokers where I feel like things will subtly rot the brain. I got rid of that 1997 Millennium Meltdown book because it had more conspiracy theories than just the MM. Fearless by Fern Micheals also rubbed me the wrong way, and the twist at the end just made the characters feel underutilized.

I just finished Sarah Lotz Missing Person, I think I only have one more book by her to read. The White Road is still my favorite horror novel. If you were a Homestuck kid, you might love Missing Person!

I drew this week! I'm trying to get ready for Drawtober I suppose.

I also started another writing project so now I have something I can pit against that ghost hunter fantasy. The thing about the new project is its just a revival of something I started in highschool and I would love a peak at the old draft, but I never pried the harddrive out of my old laptop. And the track pad on this one is getting finnicky... It better straighten up. How old is "old" for a laptop?

So anyways, on Thursday I cleaned. On Friday I swung by the library and then followed signs to a yard sale (it was Friday/Saturday because they had football games to watch on Sunday) and met the people there and even got a phone number. That's because I found a piece of furniture I've been needing and it was so perfect I asked them to hold it so my mom could help me put it in her car. I have just a sedan. I also got a great bedside lamp to hopefully cut down on screentime, and a painting of my aunt's favorite painter for only $2. Of course it looks better in person. As well as about 12 pulp romances.

Then I went to the store where my mom was shopping to see if she wanted to get lunch. I tried to just surprise her by sneaking up on her but it turned out she was at the one 1 freeway exit away so I'd wasted like half an hour. Freaking parking lots! We got Mexican. On Sunday the neighbors came over and we put up Halloween decorations. Monday this week was much better than last week. On Tuesday I ran a poll to see whether to go to the library or the pool but made a little time for both! It's gonna be hot tomorrow but I might not have time for it. But, like, an hour is fine, sometimes. It's all about getting over the "peeling off a damp bathing suit after" thing.

[archenemyintellegence]

(24/11/2022)

Should've posted this the day it happened but I was barely existing in the material realm due to group presentations. Also the pictures I took are bad but I had a class right after it so I couldn't retake the pictures.

I took a course about Chinese art and the teacher invited an artist to have a talk and do some demonstrations. His name is 徐沛之.

My only experiences in doing Chinese art were the ink painting course I took and the Chinese ink calligraphy homework I needed to do when I was in primary school. The lack of experience prevented me from fully admiring his skills but I was still blown away by his demo. Man writing with the brush so silky smooth and every stroke is perfect. If you tried writing with a brush before, you probably know it's difficult to use. And it's more difficult if you are doing Chinese calligraphy as each stroke has so much details on it. Other than the strength on different part of a stroke, you have to pay attention on how to start a stroke and end a stroke beautifully. It's so difficult and he just did it effortlessly.

Besides of the calligraphy, he drew something in the demo too. One of his drawings is the shrimp and crab. Due to the texture and the great quality of the paper, ink of each stroke bled but every stroke can still be seen clearly. It worked perfectly on showing the translucency of the shell of the shrimp, as well as showing the fuzzy fur of the crab. With the clean strokes, they look so alive and adorable too.

After the crustaceans, he drew mosquito with a small brush. I guess mosquito is extremely rare in Chinese painting so it makes the experience of witnessing someone draw it more valuable. His brush control is so insane that he is able to draw a mosquito in its original size with strokes so tiny that we can barely see it. He then drew a bigger version so we can see the details clearer. It's just wild. Besides the mad skills, the paper he used for the mosquito drawing was different from the other drawings and calligraphy. As the bleeding will ruin the small details of the mosquito, he drew it on an a4 paper that we used for printing instead.

Earlier that week, I went to an ink painting exhibition with my class and talked about it with my father. He told me that there're colors in the bleed out of ink if you see closely. Due to so many reasons (e.g. sleepy af, everyone is looking at the same drawing at the same time, dim lighting), I couldn't see it that day. So I paid extra attention to try to see if its real in the demo. I even went to bed early for that. Turns out its real. There're subtle changes in the color of ink when its drying, like when its wet its bluer and when its dry the color is warmer. Also there're subtle colors in each strokes, which are more apparent if its a soft, wet stroke and the bleed out part of the stroke. You can pay attention to it if you have the chance to see an ink painting.

Overall, the demonstration was an amazing experience. Even better, my teacher showed her own Chinese paintings after the demo for us to watch. The whole lesson was so inspiring. I thought Chinese ink painting was boring because every lesson it's just the teacher talking about stuff and the drawings look kinda similar. This lesson changed my mind completely. Looking at the artist creating drawings so cleanly is like magic. It definitely sparked my curiosity on Chinese ink painting. I wish I have more lessons like that but it was the last lesson of the course. Every lesson should be like that so I don't have to try my best to stay awake in the morning. However, I know that it's difficult for my teacher to arrange even one lesson like that so I am thankful that it happened.