#i actually toned it down a lot for the post

[angelicjackles]

— reckless heroine.

cw: fem!reader, best friend!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a smidge of fluff, injuries and blood descriptions — 2.2k a/n: this is the first time I've posted anything publicly in years so consider this a testing the waters fic, trying to find my groove and decide if i want to make this a regular thing.

summary: after a rough, but successful hunt, you and dean arrive back at the motel, only you were reckless and got injured, some duct tape patching up ensues from an angry dean.

The storm had arrived just as Dean and her pulled into the grimy parking lot of the Twin Pines Motel, how very Montana. The heavy raindrops pummeled against the windows like a stark warning. The sky rumbled with low growls, and flashes of jagged light illuminated the dim, rundown building. Inside their basic motel room, the air was thick with tension and the unmistakable smell of almost damp carpet—a cheerful welcome after a semi-successful hunt with a werewolf.

Dean slammed the creaky motel door shut behind them, the force alone almost enough to splinter the plaster around the hinges, his expression a maelstrom of anger and concern blended into one explosive temper as he flicked the lightswitch, the gross orange-ish glow of the overhead bulb highlighted the unsavoury nature of their accommodation. They’d come a long way from Kansas for this hunt.

Sam and Cas took off East together for a potential case, something something bizarre circumstances, frankly, there’d been little resistance offered when the duo took off to the east coast, leaving her and Dean to take Montana—although if they were real, they’d probably have taken anywhere over the east coast.

The door was barely closed for a moment before his gruff voice crackled through the air like a whip. “Did that brewing concussion knock all damn common sense out of your head?” Dean snapped angrily, his demandingly sharp voice rising above the impending storm. “You got a fucking death wish or something?”

She grimaced, carefully moving to sit on one of the twin beds, feeling the throbbing pain radiating from the gash on the back of her shoulder, the wound still steadily leaking blood, instinctively rubbing the spot on the back of your head that had collided with the concrete earlier in the night when he mentioned a concussion.

“Very funny,” she retorted in deadpan, infusing her tone with a touch of biting sarcasm that was quickly becoming a defence mechanism, and all but guaranteed to rile him up further. “The victim needed help, she was bleeding out and scared, and unlike you I actually gave a shit about more than ganking the mutt.” The implication that he didn’t care if the victim survived so long as they handled the werewolf wasn’t helping Dean’s mood, but the remorse she showed was negligible. “Besides, I handled it, didn’t I? And it worked—aren’t you always telling me ‘trust your instincts, your instincts are good’.” she added on before he had a chance to respond, putting an emphasis on the drawl of his voice. The mock only made that muscle in his jaw clench so hard it wouldn’t be a surprise if his teeth shattered. Heed the warning.

A growl bubbled in the back of his throat, but somehow he managed to keep it partially contained and tossed both his and her bags down onto the bed she hadn’t plopped down on. He may be pissed at her right now but that didn’t mean he was going to let his injured best friend carry her own bag. “Trust your instincts?” He gestured wildly with his hand, like that would somehow show just how worked up he was right now. She was getting to him, bad, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he was summoning from Chuck only knows where to stop from lashing out at her. “You were reckless and got yourself attacked in the process of playing heroine!” He rasped, his low voice reverberating off the thin motel walls with how loud his words escaped. 

Just for good measure he had to force his eyes elsewhere, just so he’d stop being faced with those claw marks on your shoulder, every glance at them made something in him coil and burn. Stomping towards the foot of the unoccupied bed, he aggressively unzipped his duffle bag and rummaged through it. Meanwhile she was busy shedding herself of the unnecessary clothing and gear, kicking her shoes off and abandoning them on the mysteriously patchy carpet next to the bed, unbuckling her belt and unlatching the clasp on the blade sheath on her hip, tossing both onto the lone chair off to the side of the beds.

Finally after a few long moments his fingers found the squished edges of the first-aid kit he’d grown used to keeping in there—the first-aid kit that only remained stocked up because she meticulously replenished what she, him and Sam went through after every hunt—Snagging it up, deft fingers were quick to unzip and flick through it haphazardly, plucking out several different medical supplies.

When he realised she hadn’t responded to his last few retorts, which was uncharacteristic for her, his eyes flickered back towards her, forest green eyes darkening at the blood leaking against her pale skin. “You put yourself in danger, again, and walked away with a souvenir I’m not too keen on.” He continued despite his better judgement, gesturing angrily at the deep werewolf claw marks on the back of your shoulder blade, having torn through her flannel and undershirt, soaking both in bright crimson and leaving her down to a base layer tank top.

The retort had her glancing over her shoulder, but able to see little more than the dark streaks of blood sticking to wet skin. The amount of blood she’d lost so far wasn’t enough to be life-threatening, but it was definitely a worrying situation that needed attention. God forbid the pair didn’t do their back-and-forth arguing before that though, not like she was bleeding out over here or anything. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.” He grumbled, not so hotly as before, the edges of concern leaking into his voice. “These are gonna scar ugly...” The last part was more of an afterthought.

“More to add to the collection,” she mused out far too casually for the situation. “What did you ju—” He interjected, a warning hiss in his voice, but she was quick to wave a dismissive hand over her shoulder at him. “Forget it.” She brushed off, cutting off his warning remark.

‘It’s like she’s trying to piss me off,’ Dean thought to himself, and hell maybe she was. “For once, couldn’t you have followed the game plan, sweetheart? Fuckin’ hell…” His tone was a mixture of worried fondness and scolding terseness. Either way, she was quick to turn her entire body around on the bed to glare at him, ignoring the searing pain from her wound with the quick movement.

“Oh? Am I supposed to bow down to Dean Winchester’s expert advice? Follow orders blindly?” She shot back at him, a chilling kind of coolness to her voice. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s your speciality,” she added, venomously, the tension in her voice masking the discomfort that coiled within her body.

And she could have sworn she saw him flinch as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, making a low simmering pit of guilt fester inside her, knowing she was out of line. Low blow. His gaze pained for a fleeting moment, pretty green eyes widening and mouth falling open the smallest amount like those words had quite literally taken the breath from his lungs; but it quickly hardened again as he stewed on those words, cracking open a bottle of antiseptic with more force than necessary. “Just— shut up, for once.” It was almost a plea, more of a pained demand, but she knew she’d hit a nerve. “Sit still and let me patch you up, okay? I may not be a doctor, but I can keep your ass from bleeding out.”

She rolled your eyes, watching as he pulled out a smorgasbord of supplies from the first-aid kit. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own medical emergencies. This isn’t my first skirmish with fangs and claws, Dean. I don’t need your help,” her voice came out more snapped than intended.

Despite the fact they both knew the precocious positioning of this wound left her unable to attend to it herself, she’d have to be a pretty fine contortionist to deal with it without help. Dean opened his mouth to inform his best friend of just that but thought better of it in the final second, slowly his mouth slipped closed.

A frustrated grunt slipped past his lips and one hand racked impatiently through his short, messy locks. “Well, congratulations on surviving past encounters, but this looks like a crime scene,” he replied tersely before sighing in frustration, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to die. “—plus, you’re bleeding on my marginally clean bed,” he added on, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, which pulled a scoffed laugh from her mouth before it could be helped.

His tense shoulders dropped slightly in relief when she responded by gingerly peeling the fabric of her black tank top away from the wound, letting it slip down off her slender shoulder so he’d have access. 

The next fifteen minutes were deafeningly quiet, the only sounds were the soft pained noises that left her mouth, and the heavy breaths of concentration from Dean as he worked at disinfecting and patching up the wound on her shoulder as best as possible - Would this be easier to do in the bathroom instead of on the bed? Absolutely, but here they were.

Thankfully the wound didn’t need stitches, the claw marks the werewolf had left her with were nasty but not deep enough to be genuinely worrisome—not that it would stop Dean from worrying like a motherfucker. They’d leave some impressively disgusting scars, and hurt like a bitch for the next couple weeks as they healed, and as much as he was tempted to suggest going to the nearest a&e to get her properly seen to, just to be safe, he knew what her answer would be, so that wasn’t a battle he’d win. His basic hunter duct-taping would have to suffice.

The mood wasn’t great, both seething with worry and anger and pain that blended together into a chokingly intense thickness that lingered like smoke in the air, so it was in everyone’s best interests that they shut up.

“Done.”

Those words out of his mouth seemed to break the atmosphere and she slowly glanced back at him over her shoulder right in time for his thumbs to smooth out the medical tape that adhered the thick, white dressings to her pale skin, his touch extremely gentle despite everything, ensuring the tape wouldn’t come loose.

Turning on the bed so she was facing him as he remained stood up, her shoulders rolled back slowly, testing out the movement with the fresh patch up, it seemed to be healing. “How’s it looking, doc?” She quipped, her voice slightly lilted, making a weak attempt to lighten the mood up, too damn tired to argue further with him. His mouth quirked up in what could be described as a lazy grin. “Think you might just survive the night, thanks to the tireless effort of your handsome doctor.” He teased, only because he wanted to see her roll her eyes in that fondly affectionate way, and he got his wish.

The way she made a point to shake her head at him was all he needed to see to know that the sparky atmosphere had diminished; even though it was likely due to the adrenaline dying out and the pain kicking in.

His eyes followed her when she pushed herself to stand up, hands instinctively reaching out to steady her. “Mm, I don’t know, can’t say the bloody hands add to the sex appeal.” She hummed, eyes flicking down to his hands that were stained with her blood, hands that were now staining her arm in deep crimson too, her brows furrowing in distaste, but he didn’t seem in a rush to pull his hand back so she didn’t move to knock him off either. His gaze dropped to the offending hands in question, nose scrunching up at the sight of the blood as his thumb stroked against her elbow. “So… you’re saying I have sex appeal?” 

The tone of his voice in that moment was the most playful thing she’d heard from him in a long time. She couldn’t help but laugh, a real hearty ‘you’re such an idiot’ kind of laugh, the kind that had him grinning crookedly at her in return.

“Your ego needs no further stroking, I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” She held her hands up in mock surrender, which only rumbled an amused laugh from deep in his chest.

“That’s my girl.” Dean beamed, running his tongue over his teeth with a soft sigh. The adrenaline had long since faded and now he was left with that anxious worry and tired stress lingering in his body. “Fuck… C’mere, you,” he beckoned suddenly, barely giving her time to register his words before he was pulling her in against his chest, strong arms wrapping around her in such a delicate way, careful of her injuries while somehow managing to squish her into him. The height difference leaving the top of her head tucked perfectly underneath his chin as his fingers carted through her messy hair.

“Look... Call a truce, sweetheart?” The gruff hunter muttered into her hair, his arms cradling her close to his larger body. “Truce.” She conceded, placing a complacent kiss against his clothed shoulder, which earned a soft little rumbly hum from him.

The storm raged outside, but within the cramped motel room, a warmth had blossomed between the pair of them—a reminder that despite all the chaos of the job, it was them against the world and in this tempest, as the thunder rolled across the darkening horizon and the lightning split the sky, they both knew they’d face them together, side by side.

[genericpuff]

What kind of color palettes you normally use?

I'm gonna sound like a total noob when I say this but I kinda. don't LOL

Like I don't work from any specific set of color palettes, more so I pick colors that work for a specific character design or an environment's tone and go from there! I like consistency in my colors, especially with recurring characters, it feels weird to use colors that aren't dedicated solely to that character. It's probably the 'tism LOL but like... even when I was doing black and grey pages, I had it down to a SCIENCE to ensure every tone of grey was consistent - I wasn't using flat colors, I was using a milli pen set to a lower transparency and then would cover the area a certain number of times to get the correct RGB number LOL (I still have so many of them memorized even though I haven't drawn a black and grey page in like 3 years LOL Uzuki's hair is 163, Mitsuhiro's hair is 42 huehuehue)

So when it comes to Rekindled which actually has color, I have dedicated color palettes that are saved in Clip Studio for me to use, many of which are based on colors that were used in either S1 or the pilot episodes of LO.

As you can see, some characters were pretty straightforward and thus have small palettes, others wound up going through a bit of a trial and error process so they have a lot more colors to pick from (though I will say a majority of the colors that Hades and Persephone have listed here go unused, some of them I've managed to retool into other characters / uses; ofc the characters who changed shades the most throughout the original comic would be the hardest to pin down colors for in Rekindled LMAO)

Any color changes from there are usually rendered in post, so for lighting/environment mood coloring/etc. Banshriek and I will mess around with gradient maps, clipped color layers, glow layers, etc. to get the desired result! This means even if the base colors are the same as usual, they can still be manipulated to match whatever tone we're going for with correction layers, it keeps the workflow consistent and easy so then we're not eyedropping colors or anything.

Speaking personally, black and red tones were my favorite vibes for years while working on Time Gate, but working on Rekindled has definitely broken me out of that pattern and helped me grow new appreciation for softer color schemes haha

[shiraishi--kanade]

Last coherent post of the day (I think) and it's just something I wanted to talk about it for a long time and couldn't quite piece but. How do I put it. I feel like there's this very specific An Shiraishi mischaracterisation going on in a part of a fandom that likes Kohane but dislikes An (valid) and/or also dislikes Anhane that I just can't wrap my mind around.

I wish this was an isolated occurrence, but people have actually been rotating the WTWG-like general mischaracterisation for a while. There's this weird idea that An is pushy or forceful with Kohane, or makes Kohane do things she doesn't want to, or is overwhelming or explosive in her emotions, too mean, etc, that makes Kohane uncomfortable.

And you know what? It could be an interesting idea. It could be an interesting thing to explore. Unfortunately the way it's mostly written just completely removes Kohane's agency from the situation, just like it does with WTWG.

Because An is the most pushy, forceful, inconsiderate & overexcited in the Main Story. She is also all of these things in Singing in Sync, which she (partially) gets called out for. This is a character flaw that exists, but even though An tones it down significantly literally in her next focus event (as she becomes gradually more withdrawn and avoidant of her feelings, to the point of actually being ashamed of them), you have to keep in mind that this is something about An that Kohane accepts, if not outright enjoys.

There was a moment in VBS main story where Kohane reconsiders becoming a singer, and it's A Lot of things a lot of people let fly over their head, but even all of that aside - Kohane had the full opportunity to a) forget the entire thing happened at all b) if she wanted to, come back to be a solo singer.

She doesn't do the last part because it was An who gave her something to reach to in the first place and because she just genuinely likes An Shiraishi as a person, even though she does recognise her partner is far from perfect.

[illustrated above: a hint that Kohane knows and is aware of the fact An struggled with accepting Kohane as her equal]

Regardless of what you think about those two, you have to recognise Kohane had the agency to do whatever she wanted, and she wanted this.

You can't write them as if Kohane's a perpetual victim or as if An is forcing Kohane to go along with her all the time. The latter happens occasionally (mostly in minor ways too), but Kohane is not incapable of standing up to herself, and if she didn't want to sing with An (who, again, is the reason Kohane is who she is today & who Kohane is grateful towards, but let's forget that for a minute and pretend it's not important), she would not just stand and do nothing about it. She would not let An mistreat her! If you don't acknowledge this, then I just have to ask, do you actually like Kohane or not? Because you seem dead set on making her weaker and less confident than she is actually shown to be.

[woo-wahhhh]

[ too much energy ] "kaji..."

"what?!"

"did you seriously just walk into my shop, before class, and already injured?" you scowled back, rolling your eyes as you regarded his relaxed figure in the doorway. a part of you marvelled how he looked perturbed by your disbelief than he was of the blood freshly running down his arm. "you have way too much energy this early in the morning, dude."

"look, clown me all you want, but let's get one thing straight," he grit out. he jabbed a finger vindictively at you, followed by the insanely loud clacking of his stupid lollipop against his teeth. "i didn't get into a fight."

"colour me impressed," you couldn't help but quip sarcastically, though you motioned him to come closer to where you were rummaging under the counter. you were grateful that being so early, no one had come into buy flowers yet, since it would be a bit of a jump scare to find a man bleeding out.

"shut up," he hissed, glaring perpetually while he took a seat behind your counter, and sticking his arm out. it was amusing, how someone could look annoyed yet so charming in the same action. you almost wanted to comment on the his childish appearance, but you had a feeling he'd slap his headphones on and dash out if you did.

"well?" you prompted, pulling out a first aid kit and setting it on the counter. "what happened to your arm then?"

you could feel his hawkish gaze trail after your every move, scrutinizing each action with such intensity, you couldn't tell if he was pissed off or if he was under an enchantment.

"that granny lost her cat again," kaji said simply.

this boy, you cursed internally as you pulled out disinfectant and bandages. "and?"

"what do you think happened?" he scowled, canines flashing as he grit his teeth at the sting of the ointment. "it fucking scratched me when i caught it." he shook his fringe out of the way, perhaps to properly express his annoyance.

"you look much more handsome when you're angry," you blurted out, reaching up to push his hair back without thinking too much– after all, he was your boyfriend. but more importantly, it was much to his incredibly visible chagrin– by habit, he flinched, automatically trying to grab at his headphones, but he couldn't shake off your grip on his arm, leaving him to clutch one side like a damsel in distress, eyes wide and horrified.

but he calmed down quickly enough when you didn't pay him mind, too accustomed to his shenanigans, humming lightly as you focused on the bandages and keeping the heat from dancing up your spine. there was a simmering tension between you; unspoken, though his eyes were dead set on your nimble movements, the distinct weight of his gaze telling you he wouldn't look away, or more properly, he couldn't.

once you finally looked up from your finished work, you noted his eyebrows were knit together, the permanent glare on his face still written in stone, but his tone was somehow gentler than he let on. "look me in the eyes if you're gonna say stuff like that."

silence ensued, of course, your eyebrows quirking up as the obvious dangled from your tongue.

"kaji, you just looked like you were about to bolt outta here,"

"well, yeah, how else am i supposed to act when you say that?"

"i- i don't know," you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of how he wasn't looking away, how his eyes were practically tracing over every contour of your face with the intensity that could burn. "maybe- maybe act a bit more touched?"

"touched?" he echoed, a bit of incredulous sneer in his voice as he hopped off his seat. the abruptness of it all startled you as your back unwittingly hit the counter, and before you could make your own grand escape, he placed an arm on each side of you, effectively caging you in.

the sudden change up from the incredibly flustered kaji to this steamrolling behaviour made your head spin as you gaze up at him with wide eyes that were only met with a grey, smouldering gaze with the intensity of a storm.

"here," kaji swiftly popped out the lollipop from his mouth, holding it to you. you hesitantly took it from his hand, the question of "what the hell, dude?" bubbling at your lips when without a warning, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

short and sweet, but somehow still awfully fierce for that early in the day– you expected nothing less from ren kaji.

"now what was about?" you giggled as you pulled back, dotingly reaching up to smear your lip gloss onto his chapped lips. an act of giving and receiving, one could even say, since he'd left you with the sickeningly sweet taste of caramel on your tongue. "do you like it when i call you handsome?" you teasingly chimed.

"shut up," kaji grumbled once again, pushing his hair back and pressing his forehead against yours. "you looked cute and i just felt like it, that's all." maybe to someone else, that wasn't a fulfilling response, but you knew how straightforward kaji was, and that he wouldn't lie about something like that.

"well, if you're feeling like it then," you whispered, your lips bumping into his as you spoke, "you should kiss me again."

"demanding," kaji huffed out, though he hoisted you up onto the counter anyways without breaking a sweat, a small, but cocky smile on his face when you grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life.

"oh my god, at least warn me!" you complained. maybe you really should have kept an eye on the door, but with his figure before you, and slotted between your legs and the his hand gently coaxing you forward by the nape of your neck, it was hard to care.

"you have way too much energy to yap in the morning," he chided indignantly, but the way he was already leaning up suggested otherwise.

"hey, you're the one who–!"

"morning, (name)! did kaji already pop by– oh,"

"w-w-we'll just– uh– s-see you at school, k-kaji!?" enomoto managed to croak out before they both scurried away with mildly red faces, reminding you less of the teenage gang members they were and more of children.

you almost fell off the counter, had it not been for kaji's reflexes, but the damage had been done, and the lollipop he'd entrusted you with fell to the floor with a dull thud as enomoto and kusumi blinked at the two of you with horrified expressions.

"hey boys," you greeted casually with a wave.

"oh my, we've made a scandal, darling," you joked– regrettably, or so you thought later in the day when the rest of the tamon team's second years started cooing at at poor kaji. perhaps it was a lesson to not be so energetic in the mornings from then on.

[birt-art]

The Red Dragon movie is mostly much less homoerotic than the Hannibal tv show but not a single moment in the show reaches the heights of Hannibal saying to Will "Remarkable boy, I admire your courage. I think I'll eat your heart" before trying to murder him like they went OFF with that

[hiding-under-the-willow]

You ever write some shit where you're like 'oh yeah I'm totally just describing what this guy is doing in his free time nothing else im just setting the scene it's unnecessarily detailed for no particular reason' and then realize you are in fact just info dumping about some shit you are interested in actually

[mahoutoons]

me when i remember i used to be one of those "if a woman chooses to wear makeup its a totally feminist choice also misandry is NOT okay" libfems

[teratodentata]

Occasionally going through 1950s music (and earlier) to add things to the playlist that functions as the shuffle bag from which I pull chapter names for this fanfiction and I am constantly reminded that I am a big stupid slut for 1950s rock music, despite myself, why did nobody ever tell me that Dale Hawkins’ “Susie Q” fucked so hard

[californiaquail]

i know some white supremacist catholics who i'm certain are absolutely losing their tiny minds over the trump vance combination

[delivish]

‎

[cerealmonster15]

Like i literally privated my personal Twitter again today bc saw a mutual get one of those people screenshotting their bio and hating on them bc they didn’t like a take they had about palworld or whatever. Like yknow what it’s a good spot to meet other gamedev / tech art / vfx people but it’s so not worth the chance a creepy angry gamer is gonna dox or harass you like it’s happened to some of my coworkers and former coworkers!!!

[n9ph]

debated posting this to my other blog cause i am a little embarrassed to publically talk about how i have an insane intrest in anything beginners bible related due to mandela but at some point i will definitely make a larger post relating to intresting things i have found

[sunriseverse]

you know what i’m glad no one knows sci because if i had to watch people defend bjt i would like. actually kill someone i’m barely kidding.

[sonic-adventure-3]

can’t believe i’m saying this, but i wish sonic talked more often. he so rarely says anything while idling

[bestial4ngel]

Wow, what the actual hell.

Just watched my (white passing asf, dirty blonde, blue eyed) younger brother go from hating it when kids at school would call him Mexican because he’s half Guatemalan -> to enjoying the “is it because I’m *insert non-white race*?” jokes that his cousins and friends would say -> to jokingly calling his friends racist about little things and enjoying (and repeating) jokes his jewish friend would say about gas chambers and constantly cracking 9/11 jokes because his friends have been doing it -> to making edgy jokes about 9/11 and race and nazis and jewish people being inferior and watching lowkey questionable joke clips from South Park and SNL -> FUCKING DOING THE NAZI SALUTE AND LAUGHING ??? I hate it here man. If it was a one-off, okay whatever but it was very much not, and it was paired with multiple other nazi jokes after

I had a terrible feeling he was sliding down the alt right pipeline via edgy comedy, and ngl some of the south park clips seriously had me thinking I should keep an eye on that and intervene if it starts getting worse, but my god did it escalate fast. I don’t think he genuinely hates anyone yet or actually believes any of that shit and the whole thing is that he thinks it’s all a big funny joke, but it still just concerns the fuck out of me.

I literally started making half jokes that I’m worried about my status/safety in the house because he’s literally making nazi salutes (I’m visibly half black) to try to give some perspective and maybe bring him back to earth a bit but I can already tell I’m gonna need to be more direct very soon.

[chisatowo]

I love unit swap Kohane sm I can't wait until I finally get around to drawing her I wanna make her look like she hasn't slept in 3 years and got thrown down a flight of stairs