#I’ve been in this fandom on tumblr for a year but even with all the Griffin Soup posts I’ve seen

[itachianon]

Important PSA:

Warnings: Anon blogs versus other RP drama, 🎭 skip if you want to. Read if you want to know what is my final course of action about it

I feel like it’s about time I had to make a post, I hate typing a lot (I hate it lmfaooo especially when it’s not a fic or a RP plot I’m dangerously excited about) 😮‍💨 but two months ago shit happened. I get it. The “Anon” thing started from me, a bored Covid struck Itachi simp who just created Itachi-anon for funsies. I had seen roleplaying in other fandoms (BNHA) and that’s how I decided to create Itachi anon. I just wanted to embody the character I loved with all my heart. Asks/RP plots, everything is a part & parcel of this. Sasukeanon joined in, (from the very beginning) annoying Itachi as his little brother. They made the blog just for my Itachi, and I was the one who nudged them to make it an Anon blog. (Others joined and yada yada).

The purpose was to have fun and to RP. It’s been four years since I’ve been on Tumblr where I’ve deleted this blog multiple times because I was sick of the mundane toxicity this fandom as a whole invests in. I thought it was a Covid thingy, hey? Everyone gets bored & gets frustrated, y’know? Clearly not. With the whole feud that happened between various blogs and the Anon blogs, it was pretty clear people had things which they shouldn’t give that much importance to, given drastically astronomical importance. Who gives a shit ffs? 🤦🏻‍♀️ These characters aren’t real, we have real lives (most of us) outside this platform. I couldn’t care less about what happened, and I don’t care about what’s happening right now.

Now, you’d say if you don’t give a shit, Itachi-Mod, why did you get involved. See? I don’t give a shit about this stuff, but — I do give a shit about people I call my friends, people I consider close, people who know a tad bit more about me other than the fact that I go by Ena (Online name) and I moderate this blog. Even if in the near future, if someone comes for my friends, I will defend them unperturbed and uncaring of how it makes me look like. Cus I couldn’t care less what a bunch of unknown strangers think about me over my friends. 🤷🏻‍♀️

That being said, I don’t want to be a part of the whole “fixing things” or, “X apologizing to Y, Y apologizing to Z.” Because I’ve burnt the book long ago. If it were Sasukeanon and I, (who have fought in the past before mind you). I would be interested in doing whatever it takes to make things right. If it’s someone who I didn’t even know well, I would MUCH MUCH MUCH rather protect my peace that’s already fucked by my Corporate job.

In conclusion, don’t talk to me about this anymore. Choose your sides, us or them. Or both. I couldn’t really care neither will I make anyone choose like an insecure teen. If you want to RP with my version of Itachi, let’s go! 💓 If not, that’s okay, there are other, lesser canon (sarcastic) versions of him out there. 😛

Peace out! ✌️ if you’ve read this much imagine me giving you a bear hug 🤗 and loads of kissies xx because holy shidddd I wouldn’t read this much ngl (Maybe I have ADHD) 😔😭

-Mod

[saccharineomens]

You know, watching the anime made me realize something, so I went looking.

We (manga readers, anime-onlies beware spoilers later on) already know Senshi’s tragic backstory and that the reason why he stays in the dungeon is to take care of it.

Early on in the manga, Senshi behaved with a complete disregard to Chilchuck’s orders to keep them safe. It’s possible Senshi behaved this way because he didn’t respect Chilchuck’s skills, or he thought that none of the traps would be able to harm him (due to being a dwarf). When he offered up his life to the orcs (before his vegetables, even), maybe he was simply trusting that Zon wasn’t actually going to kill them (despite them brutally murdering an entire pub in front of their eyes). But what if he simply…doesn’t care whether he lives or dies?

Senshi shows no interest in returning to society, preferring to keep to himself. He lives only for tending to the dungeon and cooking his next meal. He behaves recklessly with his own safety, and he hasn’t moved on from the trauma he experienced almost eighty years prior. He also believes that resurrection is unnatural, and accepts his own death with relative ease.

I think his survivor’s guilt left him passively suicidal, just waiting for his inevitable death to come to him, and holds fiercely onto Gillin’s final wishes that Senshi lives on as a reason to not seek it out.

[wasabi-gumdrop]

-taps the mic- hellooo i’m still here 🥹 i hope you guys have been well!

[vaonri]

going into “latest posts” in the bumbleby tag and forgetting how much people fucking hate rwby, thus not blocking this “r//wde” tag or whatever it is… worst mistake of my LIFE!

[whiteprairieroses]

♡ ♡ ♡

[beencryingfor25years]

Today officially marks a year since I first watched jatp and that’s feeling kind of impossible to believe… I just want to say I love this show and everyone in this fandom a whole lot and I never expected my life to revolve around this lil show that I randomly put on when I took a sick day from work. There’s been a lot of highs and lows but I’ll always be so grateful to this show and the community around it 💕

[prettyboybuck]

The way I love the Merlin fandom 😭😭😭 unmatched

[sirompp]

trying to hype myself up to make a post that will be put in a fandom tag

[fiercynn]

on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)  

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[chimaerakitten]

You know, I sometimes think about how timing really effects our engagement with a story. Not in the “you love that story because it came into your life at the right moment” sense, but in the sense that where and how much you waited for it changes your reaction.

People on tumblr talk about the community that comes from weekly episodes of a show, etc but I’m talking more about like, the way watching a show after it’s over will change your reactions to it even entirely independent of spoilers. There’s lots of shows and book series I’ve liked all the way through or even loved, which have die hard contingents of fans who were disappointed the ending or bailed after hating a middle installment.

And often I can look at those things and go “yeah, I probably wouldn’t like this as much if I’d been forced to sit on that middle season for a year, or wait eight years for that final book” but even though I can see that, it’s overshadowed by the way I personally got to breeze right past the quality dip season and I picked up book 11 two days after book 10 so I didn’t have any built up expectations, and as a consequence I liked things that other people didn’t.

And I don’t think either experience—the old fan who waited and had their hopes dashed and the new fan who never built up hopes—is really more real than the other, having been in both camps in various fandoms, but I think it’s interesting that the entirely beyond the fourth wall factor of waiting time can have such an impact on the most die hard of fanbases when the canon is exactly the same

[serevena]

While I’m on several rampages, why not add one to the list?

The oversexualization of Ellie.

This is a topic that’s been heavy on my mind since last year, and for a while I was extremely scared to talk abt it due to backlash, but now, I really don’t give a fuck. LGBTQ+ characters with proper non fetishized representation is so very rare, and Ellie Williams in my eyes is one of the most well articulated lgbtq+ characters there are in video game media,, just one problem, the fandom cannot stop sexualizing her.

While on this rampage, I’ll admit; yes I wrote smut at one point, yes I’ve sexualized Ellie, no I cannot stop someone from reading/writing smut nor do I want to. I’m not controlling anyone with this, this is my opinion on my blog. If you don’t like it, bye, if you feel targeted, maybe that’s because you’re the target.

A few smut fics here and there never hurt, at the beginning, the tlou fandom on tumblr was small, and I for one was on the edge of my seat with every new fic that came. I’m not entirely sure where the massive surge in Ellie fans came from, but idc enough to dig either, so I’ll leave it at that.

I don’t even know how to word a majority of what I’m saying, and that’s another reason as to why I haven’t posted about this, but I’m trying my best so bare w me. To put it lightly and simply; I’m sick (and quite frankly disgusted) with the oversexualization of Ellie Williams. I feel like a lot of people are brushing it off because alot of the people sexualizing her are women, but regardless of gender, sexualization in general is not a good thing,, but I have never in my life seen a character get sexualized as much as Ellie.

I can hear the arguments already with “she’s just a character” “then don’t read the fics” etc, and yes, she is just a character, but again, I’m still able to state my opinion on my blog. And two, I don’t read fics anymore nor do I write them, but obviously since I built this entire account off of Ellie/tlou, that’s all I see, and with seeing that, comes seeing constant sexualization of this character.

At the end of the day, do what you want, but AGAIN I’m entitled to my own opinions and this isn’t targeted towards anyone in specific. This is my blog where I share my thoughts.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @velinxi​

Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.

Check out our interview with Velinxi below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.

Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.

What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?

Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.

Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?

If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.

What is your goal for the rest of this year?

Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.

Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!

[fairydustblossom]

losing control {part 1}

azriel x reader

summary: you and azriel have been best friends for decades. giving romance a chance takes some time to figure out.

category: angst, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers (kinda)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: none rly! some jealousy and sparring while training maybe

notes: hello! i’ve been lurking on tumblr for many years reading fanfics but this is my first time writing one! first time writing anything, really ◡̈  i’ve been part of the acotar fandom for only a year but it has absolutely consumed me and my obsession has not died down one bit. i constantly have a stream of fics i want to read and scenarios playing in my head so i figured i would give this a shot. go easy on me 😅 anyways, hope you enjoy!

{part 2} | {part 3} | {part 4} | {part 5}

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The sun was beating down on you, sweat was dripping down your body, your muscles were sore but you wanted to keep going. You had decided to join the Valkyries training today since you had missed your training with Cassian the day before. Waking up alone once again after a visit from Azriel had left you feeling unmotivated to train with the Illyrian general. The pleasant soreness throughout your body after a night with Azriel also added to the reasons why you had skipped training.   

No one knew about your relationship with the Shadowsinger yet. You had been best friends for decades and after years of flirting, loving gazes, and tip-toeing around romantic feelings you had finally crossed the line and become lovers.  It was a recent development and you were both taking the time to explore your blossoming relationship. For the past 7 months, you had been keeping your romance from your friends in order to avoid any external pressures, particularly your friends' unsolicited advice, opinions, and teasing that you would receive. To your knowledge, your friends were unaware of what was going on between you and Azriel… But you were starting to get tired of the secrecy. 

You wanted Azriel to claim you. You wanted him to proudly show you off. You wanted every single female in Illyrian to know you were his and he was yours.

But were you? Didn’t he want the same?

Doubts had slowly started seeping into your thoughts. 

What were you and azriel? You knew you were lovers, but describing what you had with Azriel as a friends with benefits situationship was not far from the truth. You knew it wasn’t just lust between you, there had been an emotional connection formed long ago and now a romantic connection, but what all did it mean if you couldn’t openly love one another like the rest of your friends did? 

Did he love you? You thought he did. You certainly loved him. For years you had kept your love for Azriel to yourself, and you were finally together in a way, but those three words hadn’t been uttered by either one of you. You were starting to wonder if he even wanted more, if he would ever want more. 

Your relationship was never really a topic of conversation. He never seemed to bring it up and you were too happy when you were with him to start a conversation that could potentially ruin what had slowly been unfolding. Your reluctance to talk to him about how you were feeling was also bothering you. Azriel was your best friend. He is your best friend. Telling him your thoughts, feelings, and frustrations had never been a problem. He had always been there for you, never judged you. But this… this was different. 

Questions of your relationship with Azriel, had been plaguing your mind the past two days and showing up to the Valkyries training had made it worse. You were annoyed. With yourself, with him, with everything, but especially right now, with Gwyn. 

You knew Azriel was pined after by many females. It’s something you learned to accept throughout the years. He was an attractive male. The most attractive male in all of Prythian, in your opinion. It was hard to miss the looks females sent his way, but it had been some time since you were around a female openly flirting with him in your presence. 

He was teaching some of the priestesses that had signed up to train as Valkyries defensive stances. At the moment he was correcting Gwyn’s stance, adjusting her arms from behind to correct their position. He was going down the line and doing it to everyone but Gwyn had been openly flirting with him all morning. 

You liked Gwyn. You considered her a friend. The friendship was nowhere near as close as hers and Nestas but you were always happy to see her at the library and you were excited when you found out she had signed up to train. Now, you were starting to regret the excitement you felt. You had suspected once or twice that Gwyn had feelings for Azriel, but you had never seen her acknowledge them so openly. First, you tried ignoring the shameless flirting, but the more comments she made, the more it bothered you 

You were sparring with Cassian on the opposite end of the training pit when you heard her say, 

“Azriel, I know you like to be alone… And I usually do too… but I don’t mind sharing the ring with you, if you ever need a training partner…”

And your step faltered. Cassian used this opportunity to advance on you and aimed at your torso with his fist. You swerved to the right at the last second, missing Azriels response in the flurry of movements.

“Maybe I can spend more time here and you can spend more time at the library.”

You heard Nesta chuckle at Gwyns blatant flirting and you sneaked a glance over. Azriels face was flushed and Gwyn had a smirk on hers.

Cassian swung once again and this time he actually made contact. Not enough to knock you over but enough to make you stumble a few steps back.

“Concentrate. Next time I won’t go so easy on you.”

You were getting angry. Your face felt hot, you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you felt sick at the thought of Gwyn and Azriel spending more time together.

Get a grip you thought to yourself trying to boost up your confidence. You had never let others affect you so much. And you weren’t going to let Cassian win after missing training yesterday. No way would you let him hold that over you, he had already given you enough shit for skipping. 

You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself when you heard the next comment, her tone a lot more sultry this time .

“I’m sure I can learn a lot from you Shadowsinger” 

At this, you reacted to Cassian's next advance by blocking his attack and countering with one of your own. A bit of your power leaking through the punch and making Cassian fall on his back and slide to the opposite end of the fighting circle. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at the pair of you. Magic was not allowed in the training pit unless agreed on. Today was a no-magic-allowed day and you knew you had fucked up.

Nesta growled a bit and made to move over to Cassian.

“Shit I’m sorry Cass I- I don’t know what happened. I lost control.” you said, running over to him and extending your hand.

He accepted and rose with a chuckle. “Ouch Y/N. Didn’t realize we were trying to kill each other.”

You were glad he wasn’t seriously hurt and was laughing it off but you felt guilt clawing at your throat. Being distracted had resulted in you endangering one of your best friends. Cassian was strong and powerful but he clearly had his guard down, not expecting your surge of power.

You could feel Azriel’s gaze on you from the corner of your eye and your cheeks started to flush.  Gods, you hated that he saw that and you hoped no one pieced together why it happened.  

“I’m sorry” you mumbled again loud enough for only Cassian to hear.

“S’okay don’t worry about it. Now I know not to taunt you” grinning, he turned over to Nesta who was approaching him with a mix of concern and annoyance, at you you were sure, on her face.

“Please don’t kill my mate Y/N” she grumbled while fussing over his wings. You mumbled another apology, making a mental note to spend some time with Nesta later to gain back some friendship points, maybe buy her a new novel.

Resigning yourself to your embarrassment with a heavy sigh, you started getting ready to leave the training ring. You didn’t want to be there anymore, but you also felt like you had too much on your mind to head back to the house of wind.

“I’m gonna go on a run, I’ll see y’all tomorrow” you said to no one in particular as you turned away and walked off. 

Nesta and Cassian turned to look at your walking figure with a frown on their faces wondering what was going on with you.

As you walked away, you could feel Azriel’s gaze and his subtle attempt at making eye contact but you kept looking forward, not ready to face him yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After your run, you went back to the training area to change out of your attire and take a quick shower. You just weren’t ready to go back to the house yet and face Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel, or anyone else really.

You sighed as you removed your shirt to cool off your body, leaving you in a bra.

What would you say to Azriel when he asked about today? Maybe he wouldn’t… Although you knew that wasn’t likely. 

It’s not that you thought he would be rude, or press you on something that you didn’t want to talk about. You were just embarrassed and disappointed in yourself. You didn’t want to tell him you got jealous and lost your cool, Cassian being at the receiving end of it, and you didn't want to lie about what had bothered you. Azriel would know if you were lying, he was a master at interrogating after all. 

You sighed again and placed your hand on the wall, leaning your forehead against it and closing your eyes. The anger had left your body and you were left feeling tired and a little sorry for yourself. 

You were focusing on regulating your breathing and your heart rate when you felt the cool wisps of a shadow wrapping around your ankle, followed by two big hands on your hips. Azriel’s solid frame pressed up behind you, leaning down slightly to wrap his arms around you, a soft kiss placed in the crook of your neck. Your arms automatically followed his and immediately all the tension in your body dissipated. You leaned your head back on his chest, turning it slightly to give him more room. 

“Hey” he spoke softly, his deep voice vibrating through your back. 

You could just melt right into him at that moment. Just two nights ago you had heard this exact same tone of voice, reserved only for you, yet you felt like you had gone so long without hearing it. You kept your eyes closed, breathing in his scent and you felt your chest contract a bit at the reaffirmation that you were down bad for this male and you weren’t sure what to do. 

You hummed back a response, not trusting your voice enough to properly greet him back. He also hummed and kissed your neck again, this time placing the kiss right underneath your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and you let him hold you. Both of you basking in the silence, taking a second to appreciate each other's presence, embracing one another.

He ran the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw and pulled you closer to him, shadows wrapping you both up to the waist. 

“I’ve missed you hanging around the past two days, where have you been?” He muttered. 

You opened your eyes, glancing down at your intertwined arms. You knew he would ask. You hadn’t necessarily been avoiding him, it wasn’t unusual for a few days to go by before you saw each other, since you both had busy schedules working for Rhys. But over the past few weeks you had been spending more and more time together, making time for one another almost every day.

Yesterday, however, you had woken up alone once again and a heaviness had settled over you. You could probably count the nights you had woken up next to Azriel with one hand. He always left at some point in the night after falling asleep wrapped up in each other's arms to avoid any risk of your friends walking in. They were known to barge in unannounced. 

You had spent the day before trying to distract yourself from overthinking everything about your relationship with Azriel and worked till late in the night in a private area in the library. And today, well, you guessed today you did avoid him a little. Not really acknowledging his presence much during training and jumping straight into your drills with Cassian.

You felt him tense up a little at your silence and you released a sigh. He leaned back a little, a hand coming up to gently turn your face to the side so he could look at you. You were met with a slight frown, his eyes narrowing slightly, a glint of worry in them. 

“You okay?” He tried again. The sight of him looking at you like that filled you with guilt and you turned around to face him fully, your hands locking behind his neck, playing with the hairs that were resting above his collar. 

“Yes, I’m okay” you nodded, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him. His eyes narrowed a little more and he took a slight step back. He was still holding you, but his hand came to rest at your sides instead of being wrapped around you and his shadows were slowly traveling up his torso, covering him bit by bit. A sign that he was cautious and unsure of where this conversation was headed. 

“Am I supposed to believe that? You didn’t even try to lie” was his response.

You bit your bottom lip and straightened yourself up, letting go of his neck and crossing your arms around your chest. His gaze drifted down slightly at your exposed cleavage and then quickly looked up again. 

Noticing his quick look down at you, you fought the flutters deep in your belly and answered his question. “I’m okay Az, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.” 

His brows furrowed and he stayed silent waiting for you to elaborate. When he accepted that you weren’t going to add to your response he pressed again. “About…?”

You turned your head to the side and breathed in deeply. You just weren’t sure how to go about this conversation yet. What you and Azriel had was special to you and you didn’t want to ruin it by scaring him off. But you were beginning to think late nights, sneaking around, and pretending you weren’t together wasn’t enough. You wanted more.

At your lack of response Azriel took a step further back, letting go of you, your body immediately feeling colder. His shadows continued to climb up his body, you couldn't see anything below his chest anymore.

“About us?” he tried once more to get an answer out of you and you simply just nodded. 

His jaw tensed and he nodded, a suffocating silence consuming the changing room.

You looked up at his face again and saw he had a distant look on his face. You knew you were probably making this worse by not saying anything, but it’s safe to say you and Azriel both preferred to bottle things up rather than lay out all your feelings in the open. Especially, while you were still working through them. It was part of the reason you became best friends. You both understood each other's need to take it slow when it came to expressing thoughts and feelings.

“Azriel” Rhys' voice came into Azriels mind.

“Not now” his spymaster grumbled back to him.

“Yes, now, we have a debrief in case you forgot, Cassian and I are waiting on you.”  

He hadn’t forgotten. He had chosen to stay around the training area hoping to catch a moment with you after your run. He could feel something was wrong today when you wouldn’t even look at him, but he hadn't expected this. What did you mean that you had a lot on your mind about you two? Two nights ago you had been wrapped up in his arms, purring sweet words into his ears, naked bodies pressed together all night. Had he missed something? He didn’t think anything was wrong between you and him. 

Azriel could feel himself starting to close himself off and his heart rate picking up. He wasn’t ready for you and him to fall apart yet. What you had was so beautiful, you were so beautiful, in every way. He wasn’t ready to lose you, not when he finally got you after years of convincing himself pursuing a romantic relationship with you, his best friend, wouldn’t work.

“It’s not bad. I just… I don’t know. Maybe we can talk later tonight? I’m so tired from training and my run…” You drifted off, unsure if he was fully listening. 

You knew you were making up an excuse but you needed some more time to gather your thoughts. Once you were cleaned off and had some time to think of how you wanted to approach the conversation, you could properly talk to him. 

He made eye contact with you again, the haze leaving them but his expression remained serious. 

Azriel cleared his throat, “Okay. Rhys just asked for a meeting. I have to go.” 

He held your gaze for a moment longer before looking away. 

And with that his shadows consumed him and he winnowed away. Leaving you alone, feeling like you had pushed him away more than you intended to.

[chrollohearttags]

long winded ass post I contemplated not writing but did it anyways. read if you’d like or ignore lmao.

so I feel as though this kind of goes without saying but a lot has changed on tumblr and the vibe has shifted a lot, sadly, not for the better either :/ I thought about this for a while and although last week, I was not posting any new content due to the strike, I’ve decided to step away from writing in general after this month. I could sit here and go on a tangent about how it’s the ‘algorithm’ and ‘dying fandoms’ but to me, this boils down to the fact that I refuse to exhaust myself to be unappreciated + disrespected. That’s not to say I’m ungrateful to everyone who reblogs and comments on my works all the time because I am incredibly grateful! I love each of you and I look forward to reading your tags/thoughts. However, it’s not lost on me that the anime fandom in general is becoming shrouded in toxicity and many of us are being pushed away. We’re in an age where people are seen as content machines and not humans so others feel entitled to their art and feel no need to be kind, understanding or empathetic to that person’s feelings. I’m not wasting my time trying to teach people manners that they should’ve learned a long time ago. I refuse to share my craft with people like that. And to say the quietest part out loud: y’all don’t want black writers around, PERIOD. One scroll through the dash shows that much. As someone who’s written primarily for AOT (not changing btw) and specifically the black side of the fandom, it’s almost laughable at the extreme lengths that ppl have gone through to see it be erased. And I don’t mean getting fics hit with labels or reporting (that failed so they switched to plan B.) since I began back writing in 2020-21, it was obvious that it was the most popular among black girls and I remember ppl telling me to write for them. Hell, it’s the sole reason I even watched. Needless to say, I fell in love with the show and it holds a special place in my heart. However, I realized I didn’t need any of the original material. Not only that, in all the years I’ve been writing, it’s the first time I’ve seen so many black girls resonating and happy with a group of characters. It was the first and only time I’ve seen stories where I didn’t feel as though them being a black character was a hidden secret or toned down to appeal to others (no shade). It was in my face and proud, even if I didn’t personally resonate with the reader or concept of the story. It still felt good coming from a fandom where I was literally the ONLY black writer in it. Fast forward and I clearly see that now, it’s not welcomed. We could sit here and blame it on non-blk (yt) having the problems but that’s a load of bullshit and the only enemies we have are one another. It’s been other black writers who have littered the tags with discourse abt the same stupid topic to avoid new fics being seen. It’s been other black writers who have switched fandoms when they were no longer the ONLY ones bc coexisting is just too damn hard apparently. It’s been other black authors who have made it blatantly clear that they are only interested in seeing and creating stories that are palatable to other races so they won’t be perceived in a negative light or to be seen as one of the ‘good ones’. Even down to not using black reader tags or avoiding coded language. So much so, they are comfortable laughing at anti-black rhetoric being pushed on other apps so as long as their new favs are not the brunt of the joke.

I’m not here to tell anybody how or what to write. I’m not here to say you ONLY have to like one show but what I am saying is that i will NOT be spending hours and days agonizing over a fic for it to be minimized to a joke for a bitch on TikTok. I will not spend the little free time I have trying to crunch and finish a fic for it not do well but watch y’all pile in my mentions to argue over nonsense. And I won’t sit here and watch y’all purposely try to run other black writers away bc they don’t fit ur aesthetic. Fiction is fiction and whether you resonate with it or not, it’s expression. I’m a boring ass country bumpkin from the middle of nowhere, Florida who’s got social anxiety, chronically ill, neurodivergent and is in bed by 10:00. I don’t smoke, never had sex and I literally never leave the house unless I’m grocery shopping. I never have and never will live the life of any of my characters, even the most tame ones. But I write for EVERY black girl and want everyone of them to be seen. The one space where that seems to be allowed is obviously not welcomed anymore. Arguing and trying to defend ourselves against people who are committed to misunderstanding us is pointless. Minimizing us down to ‘baby mama’, ‘hoodrat’ fics, simply bc you no longer like certain characters (many of which you all were writing for not too long ago) is quite frankly clown and coon ass behavior. Watching y’all become enraged by tropes that are used by ever race, every fandom, etc but turning the blind eye bc it suits ur narrative is fucking hypocritical and laughable at best.

I’m not insecure in my writing. Never have been and never will be. I know I pour everything I have into creating the best work I can and it’s for that reason that I won’t allow it to be treated like trash. I have over 250 drafts in my Google docs and best believe, that’s where they’ll stay until I see fit. Although I know it’ll probably mean leaving the last place I have any sense of community and social interaction in general, it’s not worth coming on here angry everyday in defense mode. Its not worth getting out of my character over and I rather just not be around if it means I have to play mean girl. My mind may change and all of this will just have been me getting shit off my chest but as of right now, this account will be archived come February 28th. Thank you to everybody who’s supported me this far and gave me a safe space. I love all of you so very much and hope that we can enjoy the rest of this month together 🫶🏾 🤍

[jessybarnes]

Bunker Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Tags: Angst, mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, nightmares, panic attacks, eventual fluffy smut, and protective!Dean

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 4,667

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this one. I hope you enjoy :)

One year.

It had been exactly one year since you ended it with Tyler and you still suffered from the aftershocks of the abuse. Even though your body and mind weren't subject to his fists or harsh words, you still felt worthless. Every day the memories of the torture you went through filled your mind.

The moment you met Sam and Dean in the shitty hole-in-the-wall bar, your personalities clicked. You needed a distraction and somewhere to live, and they needed help in their line of work. So when they offered to let you stay and help them hunt you agreed without hesitation. 

Finally, things seemed to be looking up for you, or so you thought. Two weeks after moving into the Bunker, the nightmares started.

These weren't just any run-of-the-mill bad dreams either. No, in these dreams, Tyler was torturing and trying to kill you. The vividness left you screaming and crying in your sleep almost nightly. The nightmares plagued your mind every time you went to sleep.

Neither of the brothers said anything to you about it, so you tried to pretend everything was fine. It was one of the hardest things you've had to do if you were being honest with yourself. The physical training alone sometimes brought on a panic attack. Even though you knew Sam and Dean weren't trying to harm you, your mind was starting to become your biggest enemy. 

You could tell they wanted to ask you about it, but they also knew that you weren’t one to talk about your past. The only thing you told them was that you and Tyler had a rough breakup. The thought made you laugh. Calling it a rough breakup was putting it very mildly. 

The day before your first hunt went surprisingly well. You went the entire day without any panic attacks or a questioning glance from either of the Winchesters. Even though you couldn’t remember the last time you slept, it didn’t stop you from humming in the kitchen while you cooked everyone dinner. Not to mention, the copious amounts of makeup you used to make yourself look less like a zombie. You made a mental note to get some more of the coverup you hid your dark circles with. 

Sam rounded the corner as you filled everyone’s plates, one of his eyebrows rising quizzically. 

“You’re extra happy tonight, Y/N.” 

You shrugged and continued to hum as Dean joined you both at the table. 

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you? You win the lotto or somethin’?”

You gave them both your signature eyeroll and took a pull of your beer. 

“What? I can’t be in a good mood now?”

Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother before staring back at you, concern evident in his eyes. 

“Of course you can, Y/N. Dean and I …  well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been having nightmares.”

Your eyes narrowed to thin slits. If this was their attempt to keep you from going on tomorrow’s hunt, then they had better think again. 

“I’m. Fine."

You enunciated your words, making sure to look at both of them sternly. Sam scoffed and set his drink down.

“I don’t call it fine when you wake up almost every night screaming, Y/N”

All you wanted was one day, one day where you could just forget about the grim night that awaited you.

“They’re just dreams, and I’m going tomorrow no matter what. I’ve been training for this day for months, and a stupid nightmare isn’t going to bench me.”

The hostility in your voice caught them off guard, and you suddenly weren’t hungry anymore. You pushed the contents of your plate around with your fork, the awkward silence becoming more deafening by the second. Dean was the first to break it, his soothing tone of voice practically making you sick to your stomach. You knew they wanted you to stay home, and it pissed you off even more that your brain somewhat agreed with them. 

“Look, Y/N, we just wa-”

You slammed your fists on the table cutting him off mid-sentence. 

“ENOUGH! I’m not here to be your charity case! I came here to hunt, not for you to feel sorry for me!”

Before either of them could say anything you had stormed down the hallway to your room. Slamming the door for good measure, you finally let yourself unleash the angry tears you’d held back. You knew they were only trying to help, but being pitied didn’t sit with you well. You’d grown accustomed to it after being with Tyler for so many years, and it made you feel like everyone was hypersensitive to your feelings. 

Once the tears stopped, you were left exhausted and feeling numb. Falling asleep right after an outburst would definitely bring on a nightmare, so you opted for a long hot shower instead. The moment the water cascaded over your skin you felt the stiffness in your muscles leave your body. You spent extra time massaging your scalp and even used your lavender soothing body wash to help calm your nerves. 

Finally, in your pajamas, you slid beneath your covers and sighed deeply. Couldn’t you just have one day where you didn’t have someone worrying about you? Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you turned the bedside light off and let yourself fall asleep. 

Fear, raw fear coursed through your body as you ran. You’d just told Tyler you wanted to see other people and he’d tried to force himself on you so you’d stay. He pinned you against the wall, his breath reeked of stale beer as he kissed down your neck. The feeling of his lips made you shiver with disgust. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you raised your knee hard and fast hitting him right where it counted. 

Tyler yelled in pain as you broke free, running as fast as you could to the door. 

“Ow, FUCK! God Dammit, Y/N! Come back here you fucking bitch!”

Cold air hit your face as you ran barefoot into the woods behind your home. Branches hit your exposed skin leaving little cuts in their wake. You could hear Tyler shouting after you as you found refuge behind a big tree trunk. Your chest heaved and you shivered as you tried to stay still and quiet. 

Tyler’s footfalls and yelling became louder by the second, and you were sure he could hear the thundering of your heart. Just as you thought you were in the clear, strong arms boxed you in, the bark of the tree cut into your back as Tyler stared menacingly down at you. 

“There you are… you pathetic little slut. You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N. You should have just come home like the good little bitch you are and kept that pretty, little mouth shut.”

His fingers grazed your cheek briefly before his mouth was on your own, the taste of his tongue made you almost vomit. 

“Now, we could have done it back at the house, but seeing as how you made a scene, I think I’ll just take you right here.”

You tried to push, shove, kick, anything to get him off you, but it was of no use. He began to forcefully rid you of your clothes, and all you could do was scream. Scream for anyone to help you.

“Stop! Please, Tyler!”

Sobs racked your body as he pawed roughly at your skin. You could feel him now, shaking you, calling your name.

“No! Just leave me alone!”

You bolted upright in your bed, a cool sheen of sweat covered your skin and the sheets. Dean knelt in front of you, concern etched in his features. 

“Y/N! It’s okay! It’s me… it’s Dean.”

You blinked a few times before covering your face with your hands, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. 

“D-Dean… I’m… I’m s-sorry for waking you up. I… It was just another d-dream.”

You tried to sound confident between your sobs, but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Hell, even you knew how pathetic you sounded. Ever so slowly Dean sat on the foot of your bed, his hand coming to rest gently on your knee. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. 

“C’mon now, Y/N. Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know that this is past the point of being 'just dreams'. I want to help you, but you’re going to have to work with me here.”

Using the back of your hands to wipe the loose tears away, you finally got the courage to look at him. His eyes were soft, kind even. The lopsided smile he gave you was the moment you finally let your walls down. Dean was here to help you, not judge you. 

“O-Okay… so umm… what do we do now? How do I stop dreaming of these… these horrible things?”

Dean started to move his thumb across your kneecap. In any other situation you’d be in a fit of laughter, but at a time like this, it was soothing. 

“Do you trust me?”

Those four words made you swallow thickly. Trust wasn’t something you took lightly, and Dean knew that. Sam understood this too, but Dean was different. He could count on one hand the people he had full trust in.

“Yes, of course, I trust you, Dean. Believe me, I want these nightmares to stop just as much as you do if not more.”

He stood and held his hand out to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you took it anyway and let him lead you to his room. The Bunker was eerily quiet at night, but you knew you were safe. You stood at the threshold, watching him as he padded across the floor to his bed. Your cheeks flushed as he rid himself of his t-shirt, leaving him only in his low-hanging grey sweats. You never let yourself think about Sam or Dean this way before, but you weren’t a prude. Every woman who came in contact with them knew how attractive they were. 

Dean cleared his throat bringing you back to reality.

“You comin’ sweetheart? I don’t bite...much.”

He winked, and you knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but who were you kidding? You couldn’t share a bed with Dean. That would make things weird, and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Nightmares or not, you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship. 

“Dean...I-I don’t think I can do this… I’m pretty worn out from crying so let’s just say we forget about this night and I’ll go back to my own bed… I’m sorry for being a burden. I’ll just.. I’m gonna go…”

You turned to leave, but not before Dean caught your arm. 

“Whoa whoa slow down, Y/N. What’s wrong? Is it because I took my shirt off? ‘Cause I can put it back on. I’m just used to sleeping without it on is all.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“No, it-It’s not that. I just… I don’t want this to ruin our friendship ya know? I don’t want things to get weird or anything.”

Dean shook his head and chuckled. 

“So, don’t let it get weird.”

His look went back to firm before he continued. 

“Y/N, be honest with me. How long has it been since you slept, and I mean really slept?”

Your eyes went to your feet, your toe rubbing across a rough spot on the old floor. 

“I umm… I haven’t slept in four days…”

A flash of concern laced his features as he pulled you back into his room. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

He pulled back his covers and got under them before patting the other side of the mattress invitingly. 

“Come here, Y/N. You need sleep just as much as I do. I promise I won’t try anything with you. I mean, I’m a cuddler so, I might do that, but nothing else, I swear.”

You lowered your head in defeat and crossed the room before climbing into bed next to him. He carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, feeling you tense a little, before relaxing. Neither of you talked, but there really wasn’t any need to. You already felt more at ease in Dean’s arms. The smell of his shampoo and pheromones calmed you. Mere minutes later, his breathing evened out, and his light snoring filled your ears. Moments later, you were asleep. 

It became a routine that none of you spoke about. Every night, you would get ready for bed in your room and slip into Dean’s, silently climbing into bed beside him. True to his word, he was a cuddler but instead of the apprehension you’d expected at his touch, you only felt warmth and safety.

He was never inappropriate either. His hands stayed firmly in the safe zones, holding you around your middle if you decided that spooning was the position for you; his lower half was always carefully angled away when you woke up. If you slept curled into his side, he kept his hand on your shoulder or waist, never anywhere else.

The nightmares weren’t dispelled so easily. But being with Dean, they were normally stopped before they were over - he was a naturally light sleeper and the slightest twitch in your slumber had him waking you with gentle reassuring murmurs.

It was three weeks before your first night with no memories assaulting you. You woke with your face against Dean’s bare chest - you’d fallen asleep there the night before. His skin was warm under your cheek and you sighed, closing your eyes and allowing the haze of sleep to keep you still for a little longer.

“You slept well,” he muttered without opening his eyes and you smiled.

“No nightmares,” you whispered.

“Good.” Dean yawned, stretching his arms up. “I think I slept pretty well too.”

The covers slipped down with his movement and you couldn’t help it; your eyes went south to the straining erection that was fighting against the elastic of his pajama pants.

His hand wasn’t fast enough to snatch the covers back up and when you raised your head to look at him, his face was beet red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “s’morning and everything… y’know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his chest.

“It’s not,” Dean grunted, clutching the covers over his lap, “you didn’t want this to get weird.”

“You having a…” you swallowed, unsure how to phrase it, “an erection, isn’t weird. It’s perfectly natural.” With a shrug, you slid your eyes away from his, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’d say it’s a compliment.”

He blinked, processing what you’d said before his mouth set in a thin smile. “Can’t help what happens when I sleep next to a beautiful woman.”

You were sure your face was about to burst into flames and you giggled. “Now you’re making it weird.”

Dean smirked - not one of those sarcastic expressions, more playful, devilish. The way you expected he’d look at a woman he wanted to -

“Besides,” you added hurriedly, shifting a little way away from him, “I’m not your type.”

“Who says?” he challenged and you pulled back, frowning.

Dean moved, pushing himself up with his arm. “You say you don’t wanna ruin our friendship but I can’t keep spending the night with you warm next to me and pretending I’m not craving you in every way possible.”

His declaration left you speechless - what were you supposed to even say to that?

Thank you?

Dean chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered and you were struck by the thought that no man should ever look that pretty when asking that question. With scruffy bed hair and sleep lines on his face, Dean managed to look like he’d fallen out of a GQ photoshoot.

Your reply, when you finally forced it out, was barely a squeak.

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours but you couldn’t relax. Your entire body was stiff with trepidation; you felt hot and cold all at once and it took only seconds for Dean to notice your tense posture.

Breaking away, he cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb down to rest on your chin, making your eyes meet his.

“Talk to me,” he urged softly.

The temptation to shut off, to not tell him anything, warred with the need to spill your illogical shame for what had happened. You knew Dean would never blame you but seeing the pity in his eyes would be unbearable.

But he deserved to know what he’d been protecting you from. At least, in part.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve,” you took a shuddering breath, dropping your chin away from his hand, “since I’ve been with anyone. And the last time wasn’t…” Your eyes closed and you tried to forget the rough touch on your skin.

Dean’s hand moved, resting on your hip and the warmth of his touch seeped into you, forcing you to look at him again, letting his gentle touch replace the horror from before.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” he coaxed, smiling softly. “I could never hurt you.”

What you feared most was nowhere to be found in his face. His sincere green gaze focused on you, filled with nothing but lust and affection.

You moved closer, startling him with a chaste kiss, your little moan swept away by his hum of appreciation and when he tugged you closer, you moved with him easily, losing yourself in the warmth of his skin.

Dean didn’t push, letting you set the pace and you were content with kissing, feeling his hands roam your body. You licked into his mouth, breaking only for air; you weren’t paying much attention to the way you pinned him back onto the bed, straddling his lap so you could kiss him and run your hands over his solid chest and stomach.

He laughed, arching when your fingers caught a ticklish spot, which only prompted you to do it again.

“Quit it,” he chuckled, grabbing at your hands but keeping his touch light.

Dragging your right hand to his lips, you sucked in a breath as he kissed each fingertip, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He continued down over the palm of your hand, tracing the throb of your heartbeat to your wrist. By the time his soft lips reached the inside of your elbow, you were practically mush - before he could continue, you used your free hand to cup his face.

“Later,” you promised.

Dean’s eyes sparkled as you rolled your hips, reminding him of the erection straining at his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his head fall back, “don’t do that.”

“Why?”

The tone of your voice had him narrowing his eyes at you. “Because if you do, I might not be able to help myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Dean pushed himself up onto one hand, abruptly enough that you squeaked and giggled, smiling when he used the other hand to cup the back of your neck and draw you in for a deep kiss.

“Do you want me as much as I want you, princess?”

You nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, his nose squished against yours.

“You know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know,” you whispered, initiating another kiss, dragging your tongue over his.

Shifting his weight so his back was straight, Dean’s hands landed on your hips, grinding you down harder against his cock. His fingers trailed up underneath the thin tank top you’d worn to bed; he groaned when his thumbs brushed the underside of your bare breasts.

You lifted your arms, letting him pull the top up over your head, giving him full access to your breasts and Dean leaned in, brushing his nose across the top of one.

“You’ve got no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured and you smiled, folding your hands around the back of his head as he started to worship your tits with his tongue.

His cock was twitching against your core and Dean grunted, pushing one hand underneath the covers to shove his pants down.

“Sorry, it’s getting a little uncomfortable down there,” he joked, resuming his attention to your nipples and you gasped when his teeth grazed one solid peak teasingly.

The sudden desire to feel his skin on yours was a full-body craving; you shifted and pushed at your shorts, managing to drag them down without dislodging him.

The sound Dean made when you were finally perched nude in his lap was only amplified when you pushed him back, using your feet to shove the covers down. His cock was warm and throbbing against your bare slit and you whimpered, grinding against him and he broke away from your breast, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, Y/N -”

“Sssh,” you ordered, sliding down his body until you were straddling his thighs, wrapping one hand around his shaft before you could stop and think about it.

Dean’s chin tilted up and the veins on his neck popped with the strained angle of his neck, a low moan accompanying the bob of his Adam’s apple when you licked the tip of his cock.

He kept his hands at his sides, clenching them in the sheets, giving you all the room you needed. It wasn’t something you had an entirety of experience in but Dean seemed happy enough to let you explore, finding the sensitive spots at the base of his length. When you cupped his balls with your other hand and fondled them gently, Dean emitted a noise of pure lust and warmth swelled in your core in response.

Stroking him slowly, you watched a bead of precum seeping from his slit; the urge to taste it was more than you could ignore. The salty tang was worth the way Dean’s entire body twitched and he looked down at you, tucking his chin into his chest.

“You know there are limits to torture, right?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing to stroke him as he moaned under his breath. “Jeez, Y/N, you’re gonna… fuck…”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” you chided, your gaze fixed on the way his cock fit in your hand. Your fingers didn’t quite touch either side, not until you reached the slightly flared head and you suddenly wanted to know what it felt like to have him buried inside you.

The thought was enough to provoke a sudden rush of wetness between your thighs and Dean groaned as you rutted against him, barely acknowledging your own movement. 

A tiny voice in the back of your head stilled your movements, doubt settling in the pit of your belly. Shouldn’t you be frightened of this? After… after him, there hadn’t been anyone and this felt like something that should be shaking you to the core.

But all you could feel was pure adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins; everything was focused on the way Dean felt underneath you, the warm weight of his cock as you stroked him, and the sounds of pleasure he was making.

“Dean,” you whispered, meeting his eyes, “I wanna fuck you.”

He muttered a curse, biting his bottom lip when you released his cock and crawled further up his body. There was no objection - Dean continued to let you set the pace. You lifted yourself, slipping two fingers between your thighs, sinking them into your body.

“Y/N…” Dean muttered, covering your hand with his own, “let me.”

You nodded, letting him take over, whining when he pushed a single digit into you. Just one of his fingers felt bigger than your two, more calloused and filling. He pumped them a few times, smirking when you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, enjoying his slow touch.

All too soon, you grew impatient for more but before Dean could add a second finger, you tugged on his wrist. “Want you,” you pouted, leaning over to kiss away any protest he could make. Lifting your hips, you pinned his hands beside his head, smiling against his lips. “Stay.”

Dean obeyed, groaning when you slipped one hand down to grasp him again, lining his tip up with your soaked entrance. Lowering down onto him, you whined, lifting again when your body struggled to accept the intrusion. With a few more thrusts, you had him halfway inside and his body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

Lifting up once more, you pushed down, taking him to the hilt. The shock of being so full made you yelp and Dean’s hands were on your hips, holding you steady so you could adjust.

“Gah,” you moaned, resting against his chest, “you’re… fuck.”

“Now who has a dirty mouth?” Dean teased and you pulled back, smiling. “Want me to put my hands back?”

You nodded, waiting for him to return his hands to the pillow before sliding your fingers up to lace them with his.

When you started to move, rocking gently on him, Dean closed his eyes, a low rumble in his chest letting you know that it felt good. The way he reacted made you a little bolder and you lifted yourself, letting him withdraw a few inches before taking him to the hilt again. 

“Y/N…”

“What?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong with the way he moaned your name.

His cheeks were a little red when he answered. “I’m close and you haven’t -”

“Oh,” you blinked, ceasing your movements, unsure what to do, “do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” Dean chuckled. “I just wanna make sure you cum too.” The way he said it, his low throaty voice almost catching on the words, made you shudder and clench around him. “Sit up straight,” he instructed - you obeyed, a little puzzled until you felt how much deeper it let him be.

You moaned, circling your hips as Dean’s jaw clenched. Your lips parted in a little “o” when he responded with a slight thrust, one hand untangling from yours to hover over your mound, his thumb settling just above where his cock was inside you.

“That okay?” he asked and you nodded, squirming needily. Intense pleasure was on the edge of your senses, teasing you with the promise of climax but you craved more. Dean’s thumb traced your clit and a spark made your hips jerk. “That’s it,” he coaxed, “keep moving for me, baby.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you started to rock, much like how you had started. The throbbing inside you increased with each glide of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Electricity ran through your veins prompting your head to fall back as you whimpered into orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Dean murmured his other hand on your hip now, guiding your rocking motion when you fell over the edge.

It was calmer than any orgasm you’d ever experience but possibly one of the best. Dean’s climax followed yours within seconds and he stopped touching you, letting you fall forward onto his chest, panting heavily.

Although you’d barely moved, you were sweating, exhausted and more sated than you’d ever felt. An overwhelming sense of calm swept through you; even though your legs were shaking with the effort of simply existing, you felt peaceful.

Eventually, Dean had to move, helping you clean up before he slipped back into bed with you. Neither of you spoke as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you back against his chest, letting you curl into his side.

“Get some more sleep,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, closing your eyes without a reply and letting the last ebbing waves of bliss carry you off.

[padawanlost]

A love letter to Prequel fans...

On March 24, 2017 – 7 years ago – I created a blog called padawanlost. I did so after YEARS of feeling like the star wars fandom did not want me. As some of you may know, I fell in love with the Star Wars Prequels during my teen years, after a viewing of Attack of the Clones made me realize that those movies would mean more to me than a momentary fixation. At the same time, it was not easy being a prequel fan. Everywhere I looked it seemed the world was telling I was stupid for loving the prequels, for sympathizing with Anakin, for crying during Revenge of the Sith or for listening to Across the Star over and over again. So it was easier to stay away….

Until 7 years ago, after a couple of years on tumblr, I finally found some fans who seemed to share my love for the prequels and its characters. And they gave me courage to join the fun, start a conversation and finally build a space where I could say unapologetically say: I love the prequels, I’ve always loved the prequels and I’m done with the hate!

So, instead of going all self-congratulatory, I want to use this opportunity to say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to all prequel fans. You are the best part of star wars. The bravest, the kindest, the most resilient fans I had the honor of knowing. I love sharing my passion for the prequels with you. Thank you for every like, for every question, for every interaction. It means the world to me.

For the majority of my life I’ve been a Prequel fan, and today I can honestly say the last 7 years have been the best of it. The most fun I ever had with star wars. It wasn’t the blog itself that made it fun, it was you guys! Your beautiful gifsets, edits, artwork, fanfics, metas and jokes are what keep me going even after over 20 years of fandom. And your brilliant, passionate defense of the Hayden, Jake and the prequels in general are what makes me proud of calling myself a prequel fan.

Thank you, for the last 07 years. Thank you, for loving and defending the prequels. Thank you, for being here even if we never directly interacted.

From the bottom of my heart: THANK YOU!