#repost because the images were in the wrong order....

[selachfish]

i love the repressed old man book! 😄

[heavyhitterheaux]

Baby Blues

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: mature topic ahead, mentions of postpartum depression

Synopsis: The two of you are at odds once again, and deep down, Jack knows that there is something wrong with his wife but can't figure out what it is. He makes it his mission to get down to the bottom of it in order to help you.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

The full fic to this concept

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You massaged your temples as you sat down on your bed finally able to take a breather. All three babies had been officially home for two months and instead of it getting easier, you felt as if it was getting harder. Jack had been sent to the store by you to get more formula since your milk supply hadn't been that great lately. Probably due to the fact that you were barely eating, but that was another conversation.

The hope was that they would at least sleep for two hours so that you could lay down yourself, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t work out in your favor. You and Jack were still at odds and it would be sometimes awkward with both of you at home with the triplets which was 98% of the time. After almost losing you, that definitely took a toll on him, but the two of you would still argue about unnecessary things that wouldn't matter twenty four hours later.

In your mind you were trying your absolute hardest while trying to recover from having them since it hadn't been anything but easy. At this point, you didn't want to divorce him. Possibly legal separation, but the thought of divorcing him completely had never crossed your mind. Despite what had gone on in your marriage, at the end of the day you still loved him and couldn't see yourself living without him.

The front door opened indicating that Jack was back and you soon heard his footsteps as he made his way upstairs. He peeked in your bedroom and saw you sitting on the bed and staring off into space.

He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead and you gave him a weak smile.

“You feel okay, today?” He asked as he sat down next to you, but you just shrugged.

“I don't know. I just…” You got quiet and didn’t finish your sentence.

“Baby, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” Jack replied as he grabbed your hand to place in his.

“I don't need any help. I'm fine.”

“Y/N, why are we doing this again? You're shutting me out and I'm trying to understand what is happening with my wife.”

“Hmm, so now you want to try and understand? You weren't concerned with how I felt basically the entire year in 2022 so why now?”

“I already apologized for that and I thought we moved past that.”

“Who moved past it? Because I didn't.”

“Why do we ALWAYS do this?” Jack exclaimed while throwing his hands up towards you, but all you did was attempt to put your excuse of hair into a ponytail because you didn’t know the last time you actually brushed it.

“We always don’t do anything, you brought it up so I answered your question.” You fired back while looking at the two mismatched socks on your feet.

“I’m trying here so the least you can do is cut me some slack!”

“Jackman, if this is what you call trying to at least attempt to act like you care about this marriage, this is one hell of a poor job.”

“Here we fucking go. Don’t you think that if I wanted a divorce or to separate from you that I would have done it already?” Jack asked and you could tell he was immediately filled with regret as his eyes went wide and all you did was stare at him.

“There’s still time to go to the courthouse today if that’s your heart’s desire since it’s only eleven in the morning. But let’s be serious I saved your fucking image because come the fuck on, I could have thrown your ass under the bus. No matter how you mistreated me and put your wife, someone that you gave your last name to on the back burner, I still did right by you. As much shit as you did and it wasn’t a secret, it got played out for the entire world to see but yet, I never spoke bad about you ONE TIME. Because as much as you constantly give me headaches, I love you and I do want to save this marriage. But if I’m the only one trying then fuck it. The one thing that really sticks out in my mind is when I actually did fight Anitta and you didn’t even ask me if I was okay, not once. Despite how she had acted towards me ever since she met me. I told you how I felt about her and all you did was ignore me in order to try and boost your career. The career that I helped you create, but whatever.” You simply shrugged your shoulders and tried to walk past Jack, but he caught your wrist and lightly tugged on it.

Deep down, he knew that he had been difficult towards you and it had been hard to process his emotions and Jack did feel some type of way about how he had treated you. He broke the one promise to you when you told him not to ever forget where he came from or the people that helped him get to where he was, but now he had done the exact opposite and the fame had got to his head.

It took him hearing it from his mother to finally realize it

“Y/N…. wait a second.”

All you did was turn to look up at him and let out a deep sigh.

“I promise to do better and do right by you….. And them. I’m sorry I just…. I know for a fact that I have to be better about expressing how I feel towards you and a few months ago, I thought that I was going to lose you forever. Please don’t ever think that I don’t love you because I do. I love you more than life itself and just for the past year I haven’t been the best husband that I could be and want to get back in your good graces and fix this. I’m tired of us fighting and we have three little ones that don’t need to grow up in a dysfunctional household. You know for a fact that divorce would never be an option for me on my end. I was serious when I asked you to marry me at nineteen and I’m still serious now.”

“It’s not just us anymore and they should always be your first thought.” You quietly said as you could hear through the baby monitor that they were awake.

“I’ll…. Go make an appointment with Fatima after I check on them.”

The two of you had been seeing a marriage counselor named Fatima and you could tell that she was genuine and also wanted the best for the two of you.

“That sounds like a good idea.” You quietly answered as you simply hugged yourself in your pink oversized sweater that Jack bought you years ago, not bothering to make eye contact with him.

“We’re going to get through this, baby. One step at a time.” Jack quietly said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

All you did was nod in response as you sat down on the bed and simply stared off into space.

Jack simply sighed as tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he walked out of your shared bedroom and was on his way to the triplets room when he pulled out his phone to do a quick google search.

He knew that something was wrong.

What are the signs of postpartum depression?

Insomnia.

Fatigue.

Poor appetite.

Mood swings.

Irritability.

As Jack kept reading the symptoms on the list, just about every one of them he had seen in you over the past month and he was kicking himself for not noticing sooner.

You were hurting and he was simply adding to it which was the last thing that he would have ever wanted to do. After checking on the triplets, he would text Fatima and look more into getting you help for this because this had to be the only explanation for what was going on with you. After coming home, you had been so happy and now it seems like a switch went off and you were the complete opposite. Jack quickly wiped away his tears before making his way into the triplets room to see Axel wide awake and staring at him. He quickly picked him up and cuddled him closer to his chest.

“Axel, I have to figure out what's going on with your mother and get her the help that she needs. I want for her to be able to see the three of you grow up, but if she keeps going how she is right now, that might not happen. I'm trying to be a better husband and a good father to you three, but I don't think I'm doing such a good job.” He quietly confessed as he brought him downstairs in order to make a bottle for him.

As he waited for it to heat up, he saw you come into the kitchen and attempted to take Axel from him. But you quickly heard his protests.

“Baby, go lay down. I got them. You're tired.”

“I'm fine. I can feed him.”

“Y/N, please just listen to me. Did you even sleep at all last night? You aren't fine.” Jack asked as you looked away from him and he knew that he had his answer.

“I need for you to rest. Don’t worry about them.”

“But…”

“Please don't argue with me. I know when my wife is tired.”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you made your way back upstairs.

When Jack had woken you up by kissing yojr forehead, it was starting to get dark outside and as you sat up in bed you simply sighed.

“Baby, come on. I ran bath water for you.” Jack didn't wait for a response as he grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom and began to help you take off your clothes.

You glanced down at your scar across your abdomen and quickly looked away. It was still hard for you to look at seeing that you almost lost your life.

Jack helped you sit down in the bathtub and kissed your cheek and made sure you were settled.

“I'll get some clothes for you to wear and put them out on the bed and I'll order you some food. Wing Stop okay?”

You nodded your head as Jack left the bathroom, but he made sure to keep the door cracked in order to be able to hear you if you needed him. Ten minutes had probably passed before the tears started streaming down your face and they wouldn't stop no matter how hard you tried.

You were trying to stay quiet so that Jack wouldn't hear you, but he did once he had heard a loud sob. He immediately stopped what he was doing to go in the bathroom to check on you and the sight in front of him broke his heart.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

At this point your knees were to your chest as your head was resting on top of them and your arms were hugging your legs as you continued to sob.

“Jack…” You started to say before letting out another sob.

“Yes? Baby, you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong.” He asked again as he was now sitting on the side of the tub next to you.

“That's the problem! I don't know! I'm so sad all the time. Why do I feel like this?”

“We're going to get you help. Whatever I have to do I'm going to make sure that my wife is okay.”

“Do you promise?” You asked in a whisper as you turned to look at him.

“I promise. You aren't going to feel like this forever if I have anything to do with it. I want you to get back to being your happy bubbly self. I haven't left your side since you got pregnant and I'm not leaving now. We're going to get through this.” Jack told you as he brushed some of your hair out of your face that had fallen out of the ponytail.

You nodded as Jack grabbed the Mielle shampoo that you used for your hair and began to massage it through your scalp. He didn't even know the last time you had washed it and figured that he would do it for you so that it was one less thing that you had to worry about.

As Jack washed your hair for you and conditioned it, your thoughts were running rampant. The last thing you wanted was to feel like this and you wanted to be the best possible mother to the triplets. You deserved it and they deserved it with as hard as it was bringing them into this world and all that you went through.

After he had rinsed out your hair, he grabbed an old t-shirt to wrap around it in order for it to be able to dry as he helped you out of the bathtub. Once he did and you were facing him, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted.

“I love you and you’re going to be okay. We're going to be okay.” He whispered and you immediately nodded.

“I love you too.”

“Let me help you get dressed so I can finish your hair for you. You want me to blow dry it or let it air dry?”

“Blow dry it, please.”

“The Harlow salon is officially in business.” Jack said and you couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh.

Once Jack had finished your hair for you and putting it up, he made sure that you ate and the two of you were now sitting against the headboard in your bedroom as he was flipping through channels on the TV. You simply went and laid your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for being here for me today.” You quietly said and you hugged him tighter.

“You don't have to thank me. You're my baby and your well being is important to me. I'm always going to make sure that you're okay and I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“That my wife was hurting. You have postpartum depression, baby. I looked it up and you have almost every single symptom.”

“Oh.”

“At least we know now what's wrong and we can do what we need to do in order to get you help. You mean everything to me even though I haven't been the best at showing it. But I'm going to do better for you and them.”

You hadn't even looked up the symptoms of it, but was going to take Jack’s word for it.

“I just want to feel better and be a good mom.”

“You will feel better and you're already a good mom. You just need a little help right now and that's okay. This is more common than you think, but it's not going to be like this forever.”

“What if we have more kids and this happens again?”

“We don't need to worry about that right now. Let's just focus on getting through this first.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you turned your focus to the television and you started hearing small whimpers on the baby monitor. You made a motion to get up and Jack immediately tried to stop you.

“Babe, I can…”

“I got it. You let me rest a little bit and I feel better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise. I'm fine. Like you said it won't be like this forever.”

A few months later, you were sitting backstage with the triplets and Jack was due to perform along with a few other artists and he made it up in his mind that he wanted all of you to come with him. Ivy and Autumn were crawling around on their playmat with their toys while Axel was in your arms sleeping as you heard the door open and he walked in.

He leaned down to kiss you while also kissing Axel's forehead as he sat on the floor and both of the girls crawled over to him.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked as he was making faces at Ivy who was laughing.

“We're fine babe for the millionth time.” You responded while laughing and checking the time on your phone.

“Just making sure!” He said as he held up his hands in defense.

Jack made sure to block off a room backstage specifically for you and the triplets. Urban would pop in from time to time to check on you too so that way they wouldn't be overwhelmed with all of the noise. There was a screen in the room so that you along with the babies would be able to watch Jack’s performance.

“Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed?”

“I had to check on my wife and babies first. Yall are my priority. They can wait.”

Just then Urban stuck his head in the door and was looking at the both of you.

“Neelam is going to murder you in the next two minutes if you don't hurry up.”

“Tell her I'm coming!”

“That's what she said.” You muttered before busting out laughing and Jack and Urban just shook their heads at you.

“And you call me the unserious one.”

“But you are!”

“You know this is the first time in a while that I've gotten a genuine smile out of you.” Jack said while getting up and coming to sit next to you.

“And I have you to thank for that.” You said as you adjusted Axel in your arms.

“Just doing my husband duties. We're in this for the long run, baby.”

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You replied as Jack leaned down to kiss you, but was interrupted by Axel waking up and giving him a look.

“I… Axel fix your face. Your mom was mine first.” Jack exclaimed as you laughed at the face he was making at Jack.

Axel continued to stare him down before closing his eyes again and laying his head back down.

“You know you can't get mad. He is literally you in a baby's body. But back to what I was saying. You saved me in more ways than one so thank you smush.” You said as you leaned over to kiss him again.

“You're welcome, baby girl. If it's for you I'm going to do it without a second thought.”

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, generationnow, sza, theshaderoom, and 1,592,006 others

y/ninsta: jackharlow said today is the first time in a while that he got a genuine smile out of me, so I had to take a selfie. Postpartum depression is real, and I thank my husband from the bottom of my heart for recognizing what I was going through and that I needed help. I love this life that I get to live with him and my babies 💕

jackharlow: always in your corner, baby. forever and always.

urbanwyatt: SERVING LOOKS 😍😍

danivalentine: jackharlow thank you for taking care of my baby girl. she is so loved by you and everyone else around her. 🥹

saweetie: love you mamas and we always got your back

Comments on this post have been limited

[snuffysbox]

I'd encourage you not to feel bad about posting art because of AI. If people repost your art- they could already do that. If people make their own art in your style- they could already do that. Reposting and straight ripoffs were shitty things to do then and still are, but AI didn't really change anything.

Making good AI art, like making any good art, takes a good idea of _what to make art of_ and _what makes it look good._ you're very good at those things and you make great art! so nobody can just replace you with AI. whether an AI learns from your stuff only matters as much as whether other humans learn from your stuff.

This is truly very kind of you and I do find it encouraging to hear, don't get me wrong, but I wanna clarify that this is less about me feeling down about potentially having my art style be trained on and honestly more about just like... lamenting the general shittiness of the late-stage capitalism of the internet in 2024. I've shared my art online since the early 2000s, I've seen every previously safe space for artists get restructured in order to satisfy partners and investors who don't actually give two shits about creatives.

And I also wanna note that I don't think you can't really compare reposts/ripoffs with AI. Scraping content for datasets is theft on a massive scale. The turn-around time for generating AI images is lightning fast, that's why it's flooding the internet so rapidly right now. Even if the majority still holds the opinion that AI images can't compare to human-made art, enough people and corporations out there are soooooo eager to cut corners and sooooo ready to tell artists that it's an inevitable evolution and we should all just ignore the unethical practice this shit was built on.

So, it's just mostly venting. I have nothing to add that hasn't already been said. I'm just tired.

[midnight-jupiter]

“HOW UNFORTUNATE…” — ghost

yandere!ghost x gn!reader [a date with death]

SYNOPSIS: the people closest to you have all disappeared or passed, coincidentally after you meet a certain grim reaper for the first time.

— dark content blog, dni if uncomfortable, gaslighting/manipulation, abuse of power, obsession, lmk if i missed anything

YOU WERE STARTING to think that maybe giving Ghost more time to extend your bet was a mistake; perhaps a bad omen.

Originally the plan was for the bet to last one week in order for him to take your soul, but after seeing him out your window was something you never thought he’d do.

You thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad for this deal to continue on a little longer, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him some more, right?

Wrong.

Grim reapers have always been a bad omen but of course you decided to let one get close to you because who wouldn’t? Ghost was sweet, considerate, and the complete opposite of what you expected from a grim reaper.

But you suppose it doesn’t matter, they’re still a bad omen.

Ghost was there when your boss had passed the day after he gave you those flowers, he was there when your friend got into a freak care accident, and he was there when your beloved pet had died.

You don’t believe you should get started on how a few of your coworkers have gone missing too, that would be to muc

Now, you’re starting to believe that he’s the one who caused all of this. Clicking on the call button of the app you used to communicate with him, you drum your fingers on your table waiting for him to pick up.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey,” you great, voice already slightly cold at the thought of him being the source of your problems, “I need to ask you a question that is important for you to take seriously.”

He immediately sat up straight, “Alright, what is it?”

“You aren’t messing with the people I’m close to, right? All of the people I associate with are dead or have gone missing and,” you trailed off, swallowing a lump in your throat at Ghost’s furrowed brows, “I just want to make sure you don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Sunshine, I understand your concern and worry but please believe me when I say that I am merely a pawn in the higher up’s game. Although I’m the most skilled grim reaper of all, even I cannot persuade them,” Ghost explained steadily, “Trust me when I say that you’re the only person’s whose name is circled on my list.”

Your shoulders relaxed at his words, of course he wasn’t at fault for all of the negative things in your life. “Thank you, Ghost,” you smile, “Sorry for doubting you.”

“It’s not a problem sunshine, I understand your skepticism,” he visibly relaxes as you say your goodbyes and hang up.

He wasn’t lying when he said that your name was the only one circled, but he refused to admit that there were new additions to your name — hearts.

What Ghost didn’t necessarily mention either were the names of all your loved ones crossed out with bright red marker, or how they managed to get on his list. Money wasn’t that big of a deal if you were number one after all.

But the way he rubbed his thumb over the letters of your name imprinted on the page made him blush, imaging it was your hand instead. Comforting you lovingly as you were oblivious that he was at fault for your despair.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?

That’s what all mortals say after all.

©midnight-jupiter 2024 : do not steal, repost, or copy my works to any other site

[wilted3sunflowers]

just to say upfront You not have any right to repost my art at all, you got here through your own course of actions and only now you want to suggest possibly 'I.d.'ing them yourself?

Multiple people block you and you keep harassing them, literally having an account called blockdodger22, @'ing people and you think that's okay? You do not know how to have any etiquette online, much less talking to people in a clear concise way and then getting pissy with them for not bending over backwards for you.  You have no concept of being respectful.  You are behaving as an obsessive, stalking, creep. Flat out. How are you online and do not take a block and leave.  It is as simple as that.

You did not even start out our first 'exchange' with a clear message and goal.

You kept commenting under peoples posts just at random, especially after just freshly following them. Saying "Image description?" and myself included didn't understand what you're even asking about. Under multiple posts you asked me that and I didn't even know what was wrong with my description under my image until a friend told me you were asking for a description of the image itself not that you were questioning the actual description under my image.  Another person even brought to my attention you flat out said to them on their own post "Image description?" "I should not have to ask more than once." paraphrasing as you even mistyped once then corrected your typo. So much time to just correct that and comment instead of just. doing what you command of people.  What gives you the right to even demand any of that from anyone? ��

Which is not even a proper exchange, it's you barking orders at people like they're a bot and not someone to converse with. You put your time and energy into continuing this act not just towards sme but multiple other people online. Instead of just bringing it up to someone and leaving them with the choice to try to do it or not. You do not get to demand what people put on their posts or not. If it has been such an issue do not follow them. For me I want to post my artwork with the minimal words i can because I'm tired. I want to post and go. This is an art blog. I post my art and I go. I do not even have a far reaching "platform" like you're trying to insinuate. If i did, i would've been able to keep up my patreon with enough money to comfortably have. But I didn't and I had to close my patreon because i could not grow it and all my energy went into patreon rewards with very little income for me and couldn't actually find the time to create what I wanted.

You want to act like this is me hating accessibility but this is you wanting to come on, annoy people unprompted, numerous times to random people on the internet and being blatantly rude and demanding and backpedaling as if this is an actual care. 

You are a rude and hypocritical individual coming up to bother people  in the name of "accessibility" . You do not genuinely care. 

People who actually cared would not go this obsessive, harassing, rude length. You spend more energy doing this than doing what you say you set that server out to do! In multiple times you wanted to 'contact me' you would post the same comment under over 10 posts with no clarity, I tell you i'm annoyed and with a broken keyboard with multiple people attesting because they're actually close enough to see me in discord servers and streams to see the broken keys you wanted to act as if you knew better. as if I'm the liar. you came onto my posts just to get snotty and bratty. So I of course block you. months pass, I get a new laptop, you use your blockdodger22 tumblr account and only THEN want to declare there's a discord server to 'help'. 

"But I literally sent you a link to people who will do this for you. And I'm in that server too. I'm in there helping people who care about accessibility." If this is how you act to random people online, why would I ever want to come into a server with you? If this is how you behave? Why would anyone? 

if you did care you would flat out be commenting on the image description you want to see typed out for yourself. As many people already DO on tumblr without any issue at all! you wouldn't have to do this fake song and dance.

 I've had multiple people in the past of my works,- typically only Steven universe fanart itself which i do not make a ton of, only adopts, They will reblog with the image description. They don't even have to ask, they just do it. Why? Because thats what they want to do and what they care about. You want to say "Oh I'm only trying to help, I guess you don't care about accessibility." You did not want to help, you wanted to make a mountain out of a molehill to random people online who are not influencers or even big time corporations. You are not treating anyone I see you come into contact with any respect or politeness.  

All you genuinely want is to either 

1. feel better about yourself thinking you're doing  good with something you're not putting the actual energy towards that you say is important to you. Like other people online, who do that thing and especially do it for artists unprompted because they want to SEE it being done and take the time for themselves. 

or

2. to look for a fight using these people as a smokescreen because you keep obsessively trying to get people's attention on their posts and then act automatically like you're in the right despite being nasty and rude online.

If you cared so much you would be putting your money where your mouth is. You would be putting your energy into putting all these image descriptions on these images that you want without all this fluff. But you don't, why? I genuinely don't care for an answer from you. I want you to leave me and everyone else alone.

There's people behind these screens, you don't care, you only care if people do what you say at a moment's notice. 

You want to say I don't care about people with disabilities for the fact I don't do one thing. One thing that only you have demanded of me in all my ten years on this blog.

 You're acting as if I'm bashing people online and saying they have no right to be here. As if I hate them. You're now just wanting to paint a broad stroke of me hating disabilities in general instead of the actual topic at hand. I make multiple characters with disabilities for myself and my adopts. That I myself have issues too.

 I am doing my own thing. I am simply posting my art. You are simply annoying the hell out of many artists myself included. 

This is a matter of me disliking you. 

Especially when I found out you are not only harassing me but people around me, other artists and even smaller artists at that! What gives you the gall and the right to be acting so self righteous when all you've done is act as a genuine dick to people. 

[why4anne]

Memories

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x reader

Word count: 1.7k

Category: angst

Summary: After spending the summer of a lifetime with Quinn you have to end your relationship in order to keep your friendship with his younger brother.

Right person, wrong time. loosley based on Connan Gray’s song: Memories.

Warnings:

Requested: Yes/No

Note: Hi, so I’m reposting this because the last one didn’t show up under the hashtags. This story is not timeline acurate but I don’t think that matters, Enjoy!

Masterlist

“Quinn stop, we can't do this anymore.” You said as you felt the brunette slip his arms around your waist and kiss your neck gently.

“Why not Y/N?” He whined into your neck.

“Quinn I’m serious, stop. What if Luke finds out?” You asked as you untangle yourself from his embrace.

“I don’t care.” He said with defiance and stepped back a step.

“Well I do. I don’t want to mess up my friendship with Luke. I won’t do it.” You declared and walked outside and onto the beach. You plopped down on the warm sand and in your mind all you could think of was how you’d already betrayed Luke.

Last summer you landed an internship in Vancouver. When you told the Hughes’ this Quinn so kindly offered you to stay with him because he recently moved into his own place and would be staying over the summer to get himself settled into his new apartment. You accepted, ofcourse, it was free housing, who would’ve said no to that? During the months that you stayed there a romance flared up between you and the oldest Hughes brother.

Everything was perfect. He was perfect, he still is. But the thought of Luke finding out scared the shit out of you. You’ve been best friends with Luke for ages. He is your rock, your light in the darkest of times and you know that he always felt second best to his brothers. Constantly being compared to them by the media. He would be heartbroken to know that the one thing that was soly his had now been taken by his older brother.

Speaking of the media, you know that it would be terrible for Quinns image if the media found out. You were 4 years younger than him and you know that the people on twitter would be having a field day if your relationship ever got out.

So you never told anyone. Not Luke, not your friends, not even your parents. Your relationship was a well kept secret. It was easy when it was only you and Quinn living in Vancouver. You didn’t even need to hide. You went out on dates to the ice cream parlor, went to the cinema or on a midnight drive while blasting music. During those months both you and Quinn fell hard for one another.

Those months were easy and probably the best months of your life. He was the perfect guy for you and you hope that you were the perfect girl for him. The love you shared was something out of a fairytale and you knew that it was one for the ages. The kind of love only a few lucky ones get to experience during their lifetime.

But all good things must come to an end. The day you flyed back to Michigan to attend UMich was the last time you would see Quinn for almost a year. Both of you agreed to end things and not to speak about your summer love to anybody. That was an easy task until you saw him again when you arrived at the lake house. Your heart ached for him and you would do anything to just be able to kiss him right then and there. You tried to stay away and so did he but both of you knew that it was impossible.

For weeks you and Quinn tried to sneak around everybody. Stolen kisses were shared, secret rendezvous were made but you knew that you had to put an end to it. You tried to get Quinn to stop loving you, you really did, but he would have none of it. Even when you tried setting him up with another girl. He refused to talk to her. The situation was impossible. How were you supposed to keep away from him if he kept coming back.  

“Y/N please listen to me.” Quinn begged as he followed you and sat down in the sand beside you. You looked into his gorgeous brown eyes like you had a million times before.

“Quinn, please don’t.” You tried with him but he wouldn’t let you finish.

“No! I don’t want to stop loving you. You are the one for me and I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else.” He confessed wholeheartedly. You felt the tears start to form in your eyes.

“Quinn please. You know that last summer was a one time thing. I will be attending UMich for the next three years and you will continue tearing it up in Vancouver. However much I want to, we can never be again.” You reasoned with him.

“I don’t care. Y/N you are the love of my life. We can make it work. We don’t have to tell anyone if that's what you want. We can have a long distance relationship until you graduate and then you can move in with me in Vancouver. If you don’t find a job right away that’s okay. You wouldn’t have to work if you don’t want to or if you want to be closer to home I could ask for a trade. I would give you everything I have in a heartbeat. Please just don’t give up on this Y/N. Don’t give up on us.” He started crying quietly and so did you.

“Quinn, you know that wouldn’t work. Our families would find out eventually and so would the media. So please don’t ruin mine and Luke’s friendship for nothing.” You pleaded with him.

“So you think our summer together was nothing?” He was rightfully upset but you didn’t know what else to tell him, he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Please, Quinn. This is hard enough as it is. Don’t make it harder than it already is okay. I know that one day you’ll find an amazing girl who will steal your heart and whom you will love 10 times more than me.” You put your hand on his cheek and felt his tears hit your thumb.

“That’s not possible, baby. I don’t want anyone else. We can make it work, please, you’re the one I know. I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you.” Quinn pleaded.

“I love you too, Quinn, so much.” You confessed to him. Even if you knew it wouldn’t help the situation at all. You felt the need to let him know that the feelings were not one sided. You loved this man with all your heart and if the circumstances were different, if you weren't best friends with his younger brother and if he wasn’t a professional hockey player with the whole world watching his every move: You would probably get married, have a couple of kids and then grow old together. You would have the whole white picket-fence dream. But instead you were trapped in this situation and all you could do was try to let him go even if it was hard.

“See, you love me too. Y/N, I promise that things will work out.” He took your hand in his and caressed your palm gently with his thumb. His touch felt so familiar and you just wanted to let all your walls down and let him love you, let yourself love him. But you knew you couldn’t.

“Quinn, as much as I want that it’s just make-believe. The we that was last summer can never exist again, honey.” You felt the nickname slip from your lips before you could stop it. It was what you called him all summer long and the simple word held so much meaning for both of you.

“I know that, baby. I just don’t want to let you go. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. I don’t know how I will move on from you.”  He seemed to finally give in and as much as it broke your heart you felt relief that he understood and didn’t argue more with you.

“I know it’s hard, honey. Which is why we can’t keep going back to each other from now on, okay? We can’t find an end to something that we keep beginning over and over again. From now on, I can’t be your friend or your lover, Quinn. As much as it kills me inside I can’t hold you back from falling in love with somebody else.” You knew your words were harsh but you really needed to put an end to this here and now.

“I understand.” He put both of his hands on your cheeks and met your gaze. Both of your eyes were red from crying and held so many emotions and so much love for one another. “You’ll always be my person, no matter what happens or who I meet. If you ever change your mind I’ll be there for you with open arms. You’ll always have a piece of my heart Y/N. Please take care of it.”

“I will, I promise.” You vowed to him, your voice cracking as you tried to speak through your tears. “If things were different..” You tried to explain.

“Shh… Don’t worry about it, baby. You don’t have to explain.” He cut you off. “I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you.”

Silence followed as both of you gazed into each other's eyes, trying to savor your last moments together as a couple before all you had left were the memories of better times.

“Can I kiss you one last time?” He asked quietly as if he was afraid of shattering the moment.

“Yes.” Was all you could say before his lips met yours in one final, heart shattering kiss. Your tears mixed as they ran down both of your cheeks. His hands were still on your cheeks and you felt him pushing your face closer to his. You pulled away for air and he did the same.

“I’ll always love you, Quinn.” You finally broke the silence.

“I’ll always love you too.” He said and you felt his soft hands leave your tear stained cheeks for the last time before he kissed your forehead and walked away from you. Leaving you heartbroken in the sand with only the memories of him left.

[sparkanonymous]

Stolen Art

Found someone here on Tumblr who was reposting art. I believe they were reposting art from Hunter X Hunter and perhaps other pieces of media, but I will be focusing on the Total Drama pieces they reposted.

I do not support harassment, and while I also do not support reposting art- without credit or permission- I do not want any harm to come to the reposter's way. I'm only here to give credit to the stolen art. Instead of spreading negativity, we will be spreading love by going to the original pieces in question.

Continue below to see the stolen art and the pieces I have managed to find with the help of Google. If I get anything wrong, please let me know!

The Artist: MarcellSalek-26 on DeviantArt | The Piece Originally Posted: September 24, 2016

The Artist: 3dg3lord3lary on Reddit | The Piece Originally Posted: February 27, 2021

The Artist: paltrypal on Tumblr | The Piece Originally Posted: September 25, 2020

The Artist: Kika-ila on DeviantArt | The Piece Originally Posted: July 2, 2019 Yes, this is the artist that created the infamous Total Drama Kids comic. They also occasionally post here on Tumblr under the same name.

The Artist: Galactic-Red-Beauty on DeviantArt Not able to find this piece. The artist thankfully left their watermark, so we know who made it, but I cannot find this piece on their gallery. They must have deleted it.

The Artist: Sheezia_art on Twitter | The Piece Originally Posted: July 28, 2021

The Artist: homkamiro on Tumblr | The Comic Originally Posted: April 16, 2023

The Artist: doodlingleluke on Tumblr | The Piece Originally Posted: May 2, 2023

The Artist: ordartz on DeviantArt | The Piece Originally Posted: October 7, 2022

The Artist: BridgetteBabe12 on Fanpop | The Piece Minors, don't click that link. There's some suggestive drawings on that page. This one I'm not so sure about. Reverse image searching lead to this link, plus Pinterest posts that lead to this site. But the site just seems like a place to repost others' art, as I saw Kila-ila's Total Drama Kids comic pages on there, and it doesn't help that the person's profile doesn't even have this piece on their gallery. I don't trust this site.

The Artist: eatingsomegreenegos on Tumblr | The Piece Originally Posted: April 12, 2023

The Artist: Miguel-Amshelo-Comms on DeviantArt | The Animation Originally Posted: August 1, 2015 The animation is Aleheather. The problem with searching for anything animated is that I can't save it in order to reverse image search. Thankfully, the artist put their watermark on it.

The Artist: sallychan on DeviantArt | The Animation Originally Posted: September 28, 2013

And that's it! Minus a couple of memes, that's all of the art I found on the Total Drama tag of this person's account. They have posted, saying they will be deleting their account soon, so I'm not very worried about their account being leaked. However, I have cropped their name just in case.

Others have commented on their account- mostly on their more recent total drama posts- telling them to stop stealing art, which has gone ignored by this person. Some pieces, however, have been mistaken to be the art reposter's work, such as the sallychan Aleheather rain animation. I only made this post to give credit to those with their art stolen.

Again, do not go and harass this person. Don't even comment on their posts if you somehow find them. The only reason I found this person in the first place was because I had liked their post with @/homkamiro's work. Please go follow the original artists and like the original pieces. Thank you!

If you're worried about your work being stolen, please put watermarks on your stuff. I know it can be annoying, and I have avoided doing so myself, but it does help if someone happens to take your work without permission and doesn't credit you.

[tamelee]

which comment imma throw hands with that person

That's uh, 🤭 ha! anyway-

Artists, don't read. I'm in my discouraged phase, which won't help you. art-ramble;

I don't think it was meant to be insulting or anything? Although it was. The very obvious ones I can mostly just ignore. It's just that they brought up something I always used to say in the beginning of my art journey which meant that basically my entire reason to draw or the years of work I put in is now pointless and unnecessary... When I started drawing I practiced a lot of realism (though not photo-realism) in order to learn lighting and colors because I had no clue how else to do it. And so, a lot of my art from a while ago looks.... very rendered. For some of them people always said 'it looked so real!' and I thought I was on the right track. Honestly I had no idea what I was doing, so, comments are basically my only feedback anyway. My dream in the beginning was to be able to "draw my favorite characters, but make it come more alive" by adding hints of realism onto the 2D. I was nowhere near where I wanted to go though, but... ah~ I had a vision. An idea of the art that I wanted to make and I voiced it every chance I could because people irl think whatever I do is ridiculous anyway because "drawing will get you nowhere" etc-. Things have changed in my style of course, I have a different goal, but uh... a lot of generated images which pop up, stolen from artists, hundreds/thousands a day without any work or effort by the prompt-typing-generator-people whatsoever, are generally- (the ones you recognize as definite AI.jpg's)- in a type of style that's very close to what I had in mind and wanted to achieve... ;~; It's hard to admit because I know they're very smug about it all, but it's the truth. And so this person was rubbing this fact into my face, which, fair enough because I did openly state my dream, but they kept mocking the amount of effort I put in and then swore they'd make better art within 3 days instead of my 3 years and that I'm better off finding some "other hobby". Meh. Everything 'art' is just very discouraging these days. Whenever I have a new idea/inspiration there's already something generated like it which suddenly leaves me without any. People have pulled my Gaara and Sasuke/Itachi art through the generator and the result apparently has done really well on their account(s) which is infuriating especially because it does look more polished 😣 and on top of that, everyone keeps reuploading my art on their socials and not a single damn platform is taking the forms, I have to take time for to fill in because I keep getting ignored by the art-reposters, send in seriously. Like what's the point then. ... is what I thought. But I'll get over it :')! The comments from this person were unnecessary, rude and uncalled for, but not wrong. And that's a bitter pill to swallow honestly. Or more like, impossible.

[naradreamscape]

How do you go about vetting sources for news on Palestine? Is NativeNews reputable? I get that the nature of this genocide means that a lot of first person accounts are on social media but it strikes me as a red flag when people are screenshotting/reposting instead of linking to twitter directly.

It involves a lot of working my way back to live testimonials and footage. I see unsourced screenshots as a red flag, too...I do try to avoid reblogging breaking news without sources, because not only do these source links often contain further ongoing information, but having the original webpage is definite proof that a tweet/post is legitimate. This also helps Wayback Machine crawlers and Archive.is users capture a dated archive of the webpage. Unfortunately, sometimes these screenshots came from posts that were removed for dubious "terms of service violations", and screenshots of these posts are all that remain...but try not to let go of the dead link, because it still contains some metadata that proves the username and date of a post.

Try not to reblog unsourced screenshots until the news referenced in the image has become confirmed, public information worldwide. Photos can be just as damning evidence as videos or links, but they can also very easily be taken out of context and misattributed. (i.e. when Jamie Lee Curtis posted a picture of terrified Palestinian children, and claimed it was of Israeli children fleeing Hamas.)

NativeNews has been reputable, as far as I've seen. Their blog is usually dedicated to North American Indigenous news and events, and they've no doubt included Palestine in their recent posting because the Palestinians are indigenous to the land. At worst, NN has the same flaw a lot of us have, where they post very fresh news that later turns out to be incorrect. Like, just this afternoon, I shared news of North Gaza being emptied of people...but this was a lie, one that was sourced to an attention-seeking zionist hours later. I know a lot of us feel helpless and want to do everything we can for Palestine, including sharing their news, but sometimes this makes us jump to conclusions...news images and claims may be extremely shocking, but hold onto them for a bit, because reposting them immediately may accidentally spread misinformation.

If you get unsourced headlines, or footage that doesn't mention the location or calendar date, try to match these testimonials with posts by ground journalists like Bisan Owda, or with the latest news coming from online news services like Al Jazeera and the Palestine Chronicle. Al Jazeera is basically the only news service with an Anglophone outlet that isn't biased in favour of western interests, and biased outlets will often only pick up stories if they begin to appear on Al Jazeera or BBC World. In order to do that, it's up to the rest of us to ensure the claims we share can be matched to ground zero. Journalists can't source these posts in their articles if we don't. It's an arduous process, and the occupation thinks we're too lazy and self-serving to keep up doing this...but we've proved them wrong before, and we can keep proving them wrong, too!

[drkineildwicks]

In the ongoing saga of Obake and Tadashi get Isekai’ed…okay so we probably won’t be doing the storyline in anything too much resembling order, since this takes place near the beginning of these two’s adventures.

Anywho, this basically is what kicked off Tadashi’s desire to use the most ridiculous names imaginable for his Pokémon.  Obake canonically has opinions about names, as shown during “Steamer’s Revenge,” and his lack of tact is what made Tadashi crank his names from silly to ridiculous. XD

Also I love that I had a reference image open for Rowlet while I was working on this and yet I still got the beak in the wrong position—lower on the face instead of right between the eyes because that’s how real owl faces work (if this were a PKMN ARPG on DA I’d have to add variant *bricked*).

Find it on eclipse here, as always please be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you! :D

Pokémon © Game Freak; Nintendo

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

[semmie]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

𑁍 — in which Leona Kingscholar rushed to your side once he hard a cry from you during a phone call

notes ; This is a repost from my prev blog because I really like this piece :D

reader ; gender-neutral

wc ; 802

banner filter credit ; Milky Way by thorucodes on Polarr!

The steady buzzing of his phone vibrated in his trousers, indicating a phone call.

Now, Leona usually ignore calls especially when his phone is on silent because that was the time he’s having his precious sleep, but ever since he entered a romantic relationship with a certain herbivore, he makes sure to check the device whenever there’s a notification. Heck, he’s so alert that a single buzz doesn’t go unnoticed by him even when he’s sleeping. Not because he’s happy to receive your attention, no, no.

And if it’s not from you? Leona’s shoving that phone back into his pockets.

When he checked, it was, indeed, from his herbivore. A grin automatically replaced the previous firm line, thumb swiping on the screen to answer.

He didn’t greet your call and instead sat up hurriedly, brows furrowed in worry.

You were strangely quiet, that is already a bad sign by itself. Usually you’d be the first to chirp a Leona! or you’d go straight into the reason why you called him, something about having lunch at Mostro Lounge after classes. One time he said ‘hey’ before you could voice out and that made you whine. The image of you pouting already popping up in his mind.

It turned into a competition, for some reason. Whoever gets to speak first wins, not that there were any special prizes. You get the satisfaction you want for winning against the Leona Kingscholar and if he’s the one who won? He gets to hear your adorable groan and whine.

So, upon not hearing anything from you and even picking up choked back sobs, Leona is speed-walking out of his room, phone still pressed against his ear.

The door creaks, letting the wind guide it back to its lock because the man couldn’t have done it himself with how impatient he was to get to you.

“Hey, herbivore? What’s wrong?” He tried fishing answers out of you while making his way to your dorm, he hopes you’re there.

Again, no answer. The only sound he could hear was restrained sobs and hiccups.

You’re crying.

As if you’d be shedding waterfalls of tears if you voiced even one syllable, you kept quiet, so quiet that if it wasn’t for his advanced hearing he wouldn’t have picked up your silent plea for help.

“Are you at your dorm?” He received a small sound of confirmation. “Okay, I’m near. Keep staying on call with me until I get there, yeah?”

No response, but you’re still there.

“Y/n?”

Another small sound of confirmation, this time shakier than the previous one.

His physique allows him to still have a steady breathing even though he ran all the way from his dorm, through the mirror, passed school grounds and to Ramshackle.

The passing students have never seen Leona so worked up before.

Inserting the key to your entrance door knob, he twists it unlock, pushing the wooden door open to enter.

He used to place it in his drawer but after one time you accidentally locked yourself out of your own dorm and he had to make a trip all the way back to his room in order to get the spare key, he decided for his own good to keep the key on himself at all times, just in case.

Grim isn’t here— of course he isn’t, you wouldn’t have let this side of you show if he was. He assumes the fur-ball is currently fooling around in Heartslabyul.

His phone tossed to a side when he finally reached your room, making sure to shut the door gently as he observed your curled up form on the bed, back against the headboard.

He was quick to your side when you reached out for him, tears-stained face all exposed. Your lips trembling, fresh salty droplets once again rolling down your cheeks upon seeing your lover and feeling the familiar comfort.

You only cried in his arms, hugged him tight as ever and pressed yourself closer and closer. He gave you the warmth you needed, circling arms around your frame and head tucked beneath his chin. Leona could feel your shaking figure as he held you, hand rubbing your back soothingly, pressing a long kiss to your temple.

He wanted to ask what happened. What or who made you sob and grip his shirt this tightly, made you part your lips to let out a silent scream. His heart aches.

The next few moments were spent together in silence, your crying would cease but Leona knew better than to question you right now. After a few minutes of calmness, whatever was circling in your head would soon make you tear up again, make you press closer for comfort, and Leona gives you just what you need from him, for as long as you want.

[comeandreadawhile]

Clone Social Media : Hobbies

The phenomenon starts with the intention to show the civilians of the Republic the men behind the armor, as well as an encouragement for the men to do the things they enjoy when they have the time to in lieu of sitting around cleaning weapons for a third time that day.

Scratch that—the phenomenon starts with High General Kenobi, on a rare day of leave, teaching his Marshal Commander how to bake. Said Commander’s men were happy to taste test the flurry of experimental confections that pervaded their leave days in the following months. News spread fast of Marshal Commander Cody having a knack for baking, and so followed the spread of troopers attempting to make their own treats and/or branching off into other things the civilians called “hobbies” whenever what they could get their hands on afforded them.

The phenomenon kicked off when Padawan Commander Tano began a social media account with the intention of using it as a public diary, her first post was a picture taken of some of the 501st—with permission, her caption says—as they went about retouching paint scuffed in their most recent battle. The men are relaxed, some with paint smeared on their hands and cheeks and seemingly reacting to some joke or story told outside the threshold of the camera, and it’s an almost startling difference from the image of rigid lines of men, faceless in their full kits of white plastoid, that the civilians are used to. Tano’s second post is a video clip of one Captain Rex, with one General Skywalker sitting on his back counting reps, doing push-ups; the video was captioned “Another day in the G.A.R., restless in hyperspace.”

The digital diary continues from there, videos and pictures of specific locations posted only after reaching a safe distance to do so, never sharing anything mission critical—past, current, or hypothetical future. Eventually she shows the men under her how to make their own accounts, and other Jedi and their own troops follow suit. The 212th then takes it upon themselves to post pictures of the little cakes their Marshal Commander has gotten so proficient at making, and, when General Kenobi creates a joint account titled “command_212”, convince Cody to post pictures of things he bakes before they are distributed—even in the process of baking, if the fancy strikes him.

So Marshal Commander Cody shares pictures of his experiments, of recipes he finds that turned out well, of recipes that didn’t because of some error or other that he’s determined to give another go, with the occasional cryptid picture of General Kenobi taking his tea in the barrack’s kitchen. As time goes on those pictures shift to Obi-Wan covered in flour, or a shot taken from several feet away of Cody sneaking batter captioned “caught red-handed in the red velvet”.

As Marshal Commander of the 212th has taken to baking to relieve stress, the Commander of the 104th has turned to needlecraft and yarnwork.

The 104th retaliate the populatrity of the 212th’s command account with the domesticity of their own, despite the vaguely threatening possibilities of knitting and sewing needles. Boost and Sinker run the majority of the account, although all OG members of the 104th have access to it; they post pictures of the things Wolffe makes them, of General Plo covered in the lengths of scarves he’s received, of Comet in the ever-growing swath the gifted blankets with the current tally in the caption (his toes were off the floor by blanket burrito 6). The holonet at large loves Plo almost as much as his men, and once a week they post him saying some piece of sage wisdom—or utter nonsense, as the mood strikes—as the war goes on. After months of asking for a face reveal and requests for the patterns people are sure Wolffe uses, they make the most Force-forsaken tutorial videos as an all-in-one series.

“HOLY **** HE’S CASTING ON 12 TO START—“ “WHAT A MAD MAN!”

“So when you get to this row here you’re going to knit 3, purl 3–“ “TRANSCENDENT!” “—yes, thank you, and then keep doing that until you reach the end of the row...”

“Oh, OH MAN HE’S GONNA DO IT!” “HE’S GONNA CHANGE COLORS!” “Holy **** man he’s gonNA YOOOOOOOOOO!”

Cody is then issued a challenge by the holonet to learn to knit. He learns to crochet. Because Obi-Wan knows how to crochet. The holonet loves video snippets of them progressing on projects together. They also love the videos Ahsoka posts of Cody attempting to teach Rex, and praise the absolutely completely unrelated hat she later posts a picture of; it covers her Montrals with enough room for a few years’ growth. Anakin gets yarn stuck in his mechanical hand because he forgot to put his glove on before attempting to craft.

The real throwdown happens when the account for the Coruscant Guard posts videos of Fox aggressively tatting while venting about the lack of funding for proper security and surveillance tech.

Each posts sees a comical increase in the surfaces covered in lace doilies and runners, as well as a new topic for Fox’s venting.

A picture of an pillow embroidered with “Kriff the Seppies” is briefly posted to the 104th’s account before being taken down and replaced with a censor bar. Rumors begin to circulate when Senator Chuchi posts a picture wearing a gifted lace shawl; Senator Amidala comments on her confusion being resolved as to why Riyo kept bringing little baskets of crochet thread with her before a senate meetings.

A competition for ship nose art starts up, many votes going to the 501st, and the holonet’s heart once again melting at “Plo’s Bros”. Personal art begins popping up soon after. Fives starts posting spray paint tutorials, Rex and Hardcase become popular for clean graphic art. Bly gets his hands on metallic paint and the crowds go wild. Kix has taken his clean haircut game to the next level.

And then Colt and Shaak Ti make an account to post art the Littles make, most of them representations of their older brothers with wishes of safety and good luck, and of the only Jedi they’ve ever known, sometimes creatures they studied in their preparation for worlds outside of Kamino. Of batches passing their final tests with a congratulatory post.

Suggestions and instructions are sent out for clones who want to take and sell commissions, allowing them to finally make some money; most Jedi are more than happy to help make sure the finished work mails out properly to the buyers.

Ships of the non-nose art kind surface on the holonet. It’s generally agreed upon that command_212 is run by husbands, and Aayla is the protector of the 327th and Bly’s heart, even if she’s a clumsy menace around his artwork (caf spilled over a drying watercolor can be interesting or terrible depending on the circumstance). No one can agree whether Skywalker is married to his captain or Senator Amidala, but everyone agrees that Ahsoka is their baby. The holonet declares Plo to have Big Dad Energy. Shaak Ti’s Big Mom Energy is a friendly rival. The Jedi council has made no official statement denying or denouncing these attachments.

Public interest begins to shift from producing more soldiers to making sure the ones the Republic has stay alive, when the realization hits that within a couple of years the children posting art and losing teeth would probably be losing blood and brothers on some far away planet. Of making sure the men are eating well instead of just surviving. Well certain account-holders don’t post for a while, grieving a loss, posting again to reassure their followers they’re alright, the public questions what’s being done to keep the men emotionally and mentally well outside of the hobbies the public knows them for. “Born to handle any stress” is very much the wrong answer.

Pressure is put on the Chancellor to let the Separatists sucede, no one quite sure anymore why allowing them to would be harmful when at worst new trade agreements would need to be brokered; if they want to leave so badly, let them. And let the men have their hobbies.

(Sad thoughts ahead)

Sometimes commissioners never receive their orders, simply a refund with a letter from that clone’s Jedi after the latest battle ends. Any money they’d made would be split however their closest brothers decide.

The channel that always posts pranks and spray paint tutorials makes a post saying they’d be away to look after their sick little brother. It’s the last post they make.

The Coruscant Guard’s account stops posting a few nights later.

After Order 66 goes out, a new account goes up posting any pictures and cute videos of Aayla. Reposting old ones that the public is sure they’d seen somewhere before, posting new ones of funny faces and ridiculous videos of silly dances. The last one is the only one captioned, “she wasn’t a traitor.”

The account is deleted the same night, and the one of the 327th’s adventures never posts again.

Wolfpack_104 does not post, but is still there.

Command_212 is deleted almost immediately the night of the order.

Years go by, almost sixteen, and only after Vader already knows she’s alive does Ahsoka post again. It’s a picture of her, and Rex and Wolffe onboard the Ghost in hyperspace captioned “Was never a traitor. Always the little sister even if I’m four years older. In case you’re wondering, Rex still draws and Wolffe still knits when we can nab the string and flimsi.”

[midnightsconspiracy]

The Other Woman

The Other Woman - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: She had always been there despite him telling you otherwise

Warnings: None

Word Count: 709

Requested: Yes!!

'The reader comes to the station to bring lunch for Jay but when she goes upstairs she sees Upton and him really close smiling and laughing. The reader has already told Jay how she tells about how close h and Upton are and he reassures her that they’re just friends. And she believed him but right then and in that moment they didn’t look like just friends. The reader hands Jay his lunch and leaves making up an excuse.'

A/N: I’m back at it with another Jay fic!!! Repost because of tagging issues

Jay had told you time and time again that you had nothing to worry about regarding his and Upton's relationship. He had spent what felt like hours reassuring you they were just friends, colleagues, people who worked together, nothing more, nothing less. But your mind still never eased, they just always looked comfortable together, a little too much for your liking. You understood that they spent a lot of time together, they were work partners after all, but what you didn't understand was how friendly they acted, both in and out of work. You had colleagues you were close with, most people did, but just not in the way Hailey and Jay were. You'd only witnessed their interactions a couple of times, though each separate encounter coaxed your anxieties back, filling your head with the horrible images of Jay cheating and leaving you. It would go like clockwork as well, seeing them together causing that feeling to resurface, becoming reclusive in yourself and ignoring Jay for as long as possible, finally leading to Jay cornering you to reassure otherwise. It was getting tiring, you loved Jay too much to do anything about it though, but you felt like such a pushover, letting him do whatever he wanted despite your feeling. And as much as you hated it, you didn't know how much more of it all you could take, for both your sanity and heart.

Today had been a decent day for you so far, it had been spent in relative quiet, relaxing and preparing lunch for the two of you. Jay had snuck out that morning, needing to get to work way before you had woken up. And as much as it disappointed you that he wasn't there when you had finally opened your eyes, you understood why though, he has an important job after all. After packing up the lunch you'd made and texting Jay of your plans, you hopped into the car driving towards the precinct. Greeting Trudy at the front desk, you caught up on some of the police gossip, arranging to meet up in a few days before heading upstairs.

Once you'd gotten to the top though, instead of seeing your boyfriend happily greeting you there was Jay and her, flirting away as if you never existed. It wasn't as if they were just laughing and conversing as they usually did, instead Jays hand held her waist in place as they observed the computer together. This was your limit you decided, why did he feel the need to touch her? He was her friend for fuck sake, you were his girlfriend after all, not her!

Walking towards his desk, you dropped the prepared food, turning around to leave and escape it all. Confused at your sudden exit, Jay rushed towards you, following down the stairs in order to stop your departure. Catching your arm in the car park, he gently spun you around, trying to get you to look at him and explain what was happening.

"Im done Jay, with you and Hailey and your constant flirting!" You shouted tugging your arm out of his grip and continuing to walk towards your car.

"What are you on about Y/n? She's just a friend, I've told you this before!" He reasoned, confused about what was happening.

"Telling me one thing and doing it are two different things!"

"Nothings going on between us!" In Jay's mind, there was nothing wrong at all, he simply was messing around with a friend not flirting with her as you suggested.

"Sure it isn't, don’t get me started about the constant flirty talk and touching," you argued back wanting him to know it truly was his fault, that you were willing to deal with friendship but this level was too much.

"Y/N. please you know that's not true!" Tears filled his eyes as he knew what was to come, he never wanted this to happen, he really did believe that his friendship was innocent no matter what her feelings for him were. Nothing he could say or do would change your mind though, and as you got into your car to leave you muttered the word Jay wished he'd never hear you say.

"Im done Jay, I can't deal with this anymore"

—————

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[lustbile]

To Provoke

Incubus!HaechanxReader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: dom-ish haechan, semi public (alley way), oral&fingering, biting, blood consumption, & can maybe be interpreted as degrading but not really

notes: a resounding thank you to whoever gave haechan curls and horns im in love with you nct stylist person. I wrote this all today and it made me stupid so I will try to go through and do more editing. Also not that I think anyone would, but I made the edit for this, horns and all, and im asking politely no one repost it, i know it’s not the most extravagant edit but im asking u pls.

Nct Masterlists

Multi group Masterlist

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You were trying to provoke him.

You were always trying to provoke him.

Everything you did, every move, blink, sigh, and turn was an attempt to pull him from the shadows.

To admit you’re addicted to him is embarrassing, degrading even, especially with the way it fills his chest and wild eyes with hunger and pride. His ego was one thing that never needed to grow, big enough to fill every nook and cranny of the universe, but something about the way your pretty eyes would glitter at him in awe pushed it over the edge in free fall.

The outfit you chose to wear was maybe a bit too revealing for the weather, the nipping cold dancing along your shoulders and thighs in a way that makes your stomach clench and your teeth chatter. But it was the same outfit you had worn on the night you had met him, the outfit that his greedy fingers tugged and pulled on to get access to your skin, and it still had the smallest of tears in the seem from his impatience that night.

But it got you attention, and that's what mattered in the end.

He had always had a jealous streak, something he’d deny sharply if you had the nerve to accuse him, but that didn’t change the fact that some of your best nights with him were spent after he showed up to remind you that your body and skin were for him only. And that jealousy was the exact thing you needed to get him to show his face again.

It had been far too long since you had felt him last. You had no clue where he could have possibly ran off to for such a long time, but that didn’t stop the fire that was building in your belly. And no matter how many times you tried, your own wandering hands were never enough to quench your body’s thirst like he could.

The man you spoke to at the club meant less than nothing to you, even when you felt his growing excitement pressing against your back when you agreed to dance with him. The sloppy kisses you allowed him to press against the skin of your neck felt no different than just air as your mind was too distracted by the man that had taken ownership of your heart and soul so long ago, regardless of his absence.

It didn’t feel long before the lights became too bright, the alcohol that sloshed in your cup too bitter for your tongue, and the smell of the strange man too stale and unfamiliar. But when you pushed away from his chest and checked the time on your phone, while you ignored his grumbled complaints of you being a tease, you saw that it was only a handful of minutes past midnight.

You had stayed out much longer than that before, much later in fact and with glee, but something in your chest, a heavy and daunting weight, was pulling you towards the entrance on unsteady feet and a taunting disappointment on your shoulders.

Your mind still felt muggy even after you broke away from the stuffy environment of the building, but you brushed it off as a combination of the minimal alcohol you’d consumed and the angry unsatisfied monster that had made home in your gut.

You had enough of a head on your shoulders to scan your purse for your pepper spray and pocket knife before you decided that maybe the short walk home would help clear your mind and disappointment. It was still cold, your icy fingertips begging for a uber or cab instead, but you were hoping the biting chill would help calm down whatever lustful beast you had become because of a man you couldn't even contact.

Your legs felt too heavy to carry with every step you took, your neck feeling like your necklaces were made from tons of lead instead of whatever cheap metal the random online store you had ordered them from used. You were grateful that the only company you had on the back streets you had chosen to take were the flickering street lamps and the skittering rats you could hear in each alley you passed.

You could almost taste the relief of the cheap bottles of wine you had stashed in your kitchen paired with a trashy netflix horror film when you turned onto your street, your apartment building somehow looking inviting with its old brick and foggy windows as it sat on the corner. The only thing stopping you from kicking off your heels and making a run for it being the memory of one of your less than polite neighbors dropping a large glass vase and not feeling any need to pick up the broken pieces before leaving for the day.

Instead you grit your teeth to help bear the pinching of your shoes, and break into a quick and awkward jog down the desolate stretch of sidewalk. Your eyes watering as you're met with icy air.

Peace and warmth and cheap familiar alcohol is only a few strides away when you hear it. To anyone else in the city it would have been no different than the sounds of an everyday creature scavenging in the trash for food, but you had lived here long enough to know what's a rat or raccoon or, in this case, a cat.

It was a stray you had befriended long ago, one that could climb and duck into your conveniently opened balcony door for a bowl of food and a scratch behind the ears. It was just a sweet little boy that was grey and covered with scratches and scars, but due to a no pet policy had to be kept labeled as a stray and a secret to your landlord.

You huff in frustration, assuming he would have been curled up on your couch when you returned home and not chasing rats in the alley next to your building, but he had always been mischievous from the day you met him. So with the hope that you could block his image from the security cameras, you turn and head into the dim light of the small alley.

You had lovingly dubbed him Oscar when you came home more than once to your trash can tipped over and learned he had a special love for garbage, and that name along with some weird chattering cooing left you mouth as you tried to coax him from whatever trash can he was creating chaos within.

Your teeth were already gritted and you back stiff as the playful feline found enjoyment in jumping out and scaring you in times like this and you assumed this time would be no different as his evilness seemed to only raise as it got deeper and deeper into the night. So you were already mentally prepared for an attack from an overly excited ball of fur, what you weren’t prepared for was a voice.

“What are you doing out so late?” the voice was gruff and slightly accusatory and made you all but jump completely out of your skin. And as you whip around in circles to try to find the face that the words feel from, you see your love and joy Oscar jump from the tallest trash can and scale the fire escape up to scramble back into your home like a guilty teenager that was caught by their mother.

“I asked you a question,” this time the words were followed by strong hands gripping your shoulders and a shrill yelp escaping your throat.

Your hand was pushing into your purse for at least one of your weapons as you squat to get out of the person's hold and turn to see their face, the grinning and prideful boy behind you washes you with a wave of relief before stabbing at you with annoyance.

“Haechan, what the fuck,” you whisper harshly as you pull your hand from your purse and stand up straight, your now free hand now moving to jab a rough finger into the dip of his chest, “how many times? How many times have I told you to not fucking sneak up on me like that. I know the pepper spray can’t hurt you and a stab wound would heal in like five minutes but that doesn’t mean I want to stab you, idiot.”

“Why not?” his head jerks back as if you said something dumb like the sky wasn’t actually blue or he wasn’t really the sexiest man to live, something that just has no logic behind it in the slightest, “like you said it would heal so maybe we could try, might be kinda hot.”

He punctuates his words by grabbing you roughly by the waist, his other hand wrapping gently around your neck before he pushes you against the rough brick behind you, the permanent evil glimmer in his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Do you ever get tired of being an absolute freak?” you thinly veiled insult doesn’t pack as much of a punch as you had maybe hoped, but when he begins to mouth at the skin of your jaw and cheek you can’t really find it within yourself to care.

“Well isn’t that why you like me?” he asks rhetorically as he starts to nip light bruises in the spots that blur your vision, “freaky me must be your favorite, because otherwise you wouldn’t be dressed the way you are.”

He’s no wrong, not even in the slightest, but the confident way in which he says it is enough to make you want to lie, “wanting you and liking you are two different things, no one ever said I liked you.”

“Oh but you want me,” the way in which he takes everything you say in strides without even batting an eye is bit infuriating, but the way his fingers tighten against your neck and push into your jugular is enough to make you melt against him, “that’s what you said so for once that’s not me putting words into your pretty little mouth. But don’t say you don’t like me, that’s a dirty lie and we both know it.”

“You don’t like when I lie?” you pout at him, trying to pull more and more reactions from him, “but some of your favorite things I say are lies, like how big you are and how well you fuc-“

“Alright that’s enough of you,” he interrupts, his fist tightening that much more and his other slipping from your waist to reach under the hem of your dress, a satisfied growl and his tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek being his reaction when he realizes the underwear he was grabbing for wasn’t there, “I’ve had to watch you prance around all night, letting a low down dog of a man touch you. And for what? My attention? Baby, you already have my attention.”

Your words stutter violently, the only sounds coming from your throat are whines and gasps as his fingers slip between your thighs and glide against the dampened skin, never staying on your clit long enough to give you the pleasure you need but enough to make you squirm.

“You were watching me?” you finally gasp out, before it clicks in your brain how dumb of a question it was. He told you a long time ago that he always will keep an eye on you, and knowing what he is and the things he can do, you had no reason to not believe him.

“I always am my pretty baby,” he coos before pressing teasing kisses to your open mouth, seemingly tasting and feeding off of every little noise that slips out, “and it hurts to see you let such a nasty man touch you where only I should. You didn’t even notice him following you out of that trashy club did you, silly thing?”

You jerk back as much as you can with the way he holds you, eyes widening at the news that you were apparently being followed without your knowledge. Every emotion that swims in your brain feels like its fighting for dominance, but with the way he chooses to dip his middle and ring fingers just barely past your entrance you’re struggling to cling to just one.

“God, you are so lucky to have me aren’t you? Who else would take care of creeps and make you feel good hm?” he tilts his head as he speaks, his breath warm against the side of your face before his tongue dips to lick at the shell of your ear, “no one can make you feel the way I do can they?”

“No,” you finally answer after a moment, the word coming out as an airy breath as his fingers finally sink in all the way. He wastes no time before curling them and pressing at the spot that makes your knees buckle, “please Haechan, need you so bad.”

“Oh is that one of those infamous lies of yours you were talking about?” he pulls away slightly, but shows no interest in slowing the motions of his hand, “well it can’t be can it? I can always tell you know? Can hear the way your heart picks up when you lie, much different than the way it does when you’re about to come for me.”

His wrist starts to move faster, the heel of his hand finally pressing and rubbing against your clit as the muscles of his forearm start to strain. The telling signs of your orgasm feel too sudden, too fast, and with his hand still constricting the blood that tries to flow to your head all you can do is let your eyes roll as your breathing comes out as small puffs.

“But since you’ve asked so nicely,” you can only let out a pathetic cry when he pulls his hand away from you suddenly, your lack of oxygen being the only thing stopping you from letting out a scream loud enough for the whole block to hear as he denies you of any stimulation. All you can do is let out incoherent babbling and whines as your hands reach up to dig your nails into the leather jacket protecting his forearms.

He releases your neck, your skin burning from the friction and the sudden amount of oxygen and blood returning to your head making you dizzy. And while your eyes roll as they try to refocus and your heart rate begins to slow to normal, he grabs your wrists and pushes your weakened form to be flush against the wall thats scrapes against your exposed skin.

“You are by far the best thing ive ever tasted,” he mutters, not concerned with whether you heard him or not, before his mouth latches to the side of your neck. He seems to find the most interest in the finger prints he left behind, as he pulls the tender skin between his sharp teeth and works to create a bruise that won’t leave you for another week.

Regardless of denying you a proper release, he considers himself to still be a generous guy. As his tongue lays flat against the burning skin of your neck, he starts to kick at your feet until your clumsy legs are falling apart wide enough for him to press his thigh against your skin, and in the exact way he predicted, you can’t help but to begin grinding helplessly against him.

One of the main reasons the dress that you currently wear is one of his favorites, is the neckline. Low enough to show the expanse of your chest and just enough of your cleavage to make him salivate. He’s as transparent as glass with this love, especially as he mouth travels down between your collarbones and sternum.

You can hear a quiet pop in the fabric of the neckline when he bites down and begins to pull it with him as he sinks down to the floor, the huff you let out being both in frustration from him further ruining a nice dress and your impatience.

The straps dig harshly into the skin of your shoulders before they give and fall, the sudden lack of support making it easier for Haechan to take the fabric and expose your chest to the cold air.

The look in his eyes when you look down is mean and predatory, you fear one day he’ll snap and consume you whole, but for today he settles for wrapping his swollen lips around your nipple and sucking harshly.

Your hips quicken involuntary, broken moans filling the empty alley as you twitch and squirm in his hold. He seems to grow irritated at your impatience as he shoves your wrists back harshly, his knuckles audibly scraping against the brick.

“You can never be patient to save your life,” his head tilts forward and he presses his forehead against your sternum with a huff before he’s leaning back up to press a sloppy kiss against your panting mouth, “you’re lucky I missed you so much or otherwise you’d be in for a lot longer of a night.”

He keeps your wrists trapped in his hold as he moves to kneel on the ground, the rough and dirtied pavement doing nothing to help the tears that already litter his jeans.

You feel your face flush when he lets go of one wrist and uses his newly freed hand to shove the hem of your dress up and around your hips, and the burning beneath your skin only worsens when he leans forward and breathes deeply with his nose pressed against your pubic bone.

He leans back for a moment, his hand wrapping around the bend of your knee to pull your leg to rest on his shoulder and you feel your shoulder sting from the wall cutting into your skin from him moving you like a doll.

“Haechan,” you whisper his name out with a pout that you hope will get you exactly what you want, but you can only huff and petulantly twitch when he begins nipping and licking at the skin on the insides of your thighs.

His teeth are sharper than most, and he usually airs on the side of caution because he’s aware of this. His bites are gentle for the most part, but when you begin to peak in your feelings of impatience, you can’t help the way your hips begin jerking forwards in search of his tongue.

His palm pushing against your hip is his first warning, a generous one in his opinion, but when the warning seems to fly completely over your pretty little head he has no other choice but to lean forward and sink his teeth into delicate skin at the bend of your thigh.

You cry out for a second before you’re tucking your lip between your teeth. It stings terribly, the skin breaking around his teeth burns but you can’t stop the way you revel in the sharp pain. And at the exact same moment you taste the metallic ting of the blood falling from your bitten lip, you feel the same warm thick liquid drip from the wounds he’s created and straight into his grinning mouth.

More blood falls freely when he pulls his teeth from your flesh, his warm tongue flattening against the injury immediately to catch as much of the liquid as possible.

He laps at it for a moment, savoring as much of the taste of your life source as possible, before he starts at the bottom of the bite mark and drags slowly up.

Once his tongue moves off the wound, he continues across your skin. The moment he hits your labia, you let out a gasp and jerk against him again, your mind completely erasing the fact that the bite was meant to be a punishment for that exact thing.

He seems to have forgotten him wanting you to remain still, as he doesn’t hesitate in the slightest until his licking across your stil swollen bundle of nerves.

He moans as the flavor of your arousal mixes with the still lingering taste of your blood, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine and making you shiver.

He tilts his head up to smile at you, his eyes shining as he grabs your hands and moving them to thread into his curled hair.

“Why are you shivering?” he asks with a faux concern, his right hand smoothing over your thigh before pushing between your legs to return his fingers to their spot inside of you, immediately pumping and curling them slowly, “are you cold or something? Maybe it’s because you’re in such a skimpy little dress?”

You groan out in annoyance at his playful act, your eyes rolling back but for once not in pleasure. It’s not until he starts to proudly giggle to himself do you exploit the hold you have on the back of his head to push him back to your body.

You fear that being shoved around may be the exact thing Haechan would have wanted, when he happily moans before latching his lips to your clit again, but the pleasure that melts your muscles erases any need to call him out on his deviousness and perverted enjoyment.

He seems happy with your moving hips when they start to move against his waiting face. Your fingers mindlessly and desperately tug at his scalp as your head tilts back and thumps against the wall.

The hand that isn’t pressed deeply inside you slides across your hip, his callused fingers making goosebumps run up your arms as they push into your lower belly.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his fingers as the curl and push apart, your thighs tensing around his bobbing head as he licks and bites gently at your clit. It feels like it’s harder to catch your breath and you know you’re only moments from orgasm.

“Please, please,” you start to stutter the word over and over, praying both that he lets you come and that you’re neighbors are deep enough in sleep to not hear the noises you know will escape you.

You almost cry in relief when you feel his shoulders shift, his face and fingers both pressing deeper from the movement in a way that tells you he has no intention on letting up on your shivering body.

His blunt nails start to scratch into your skin and you can feel his heavy panting breath against your skin every time he begins to lap at you desperately. You can feel your muscles lose even more strength, and your head becoming heavier and dazed as he coaxed you closer and closer to your finish.

Your shoulders twitch up towards your ears and you feel your stomach clench as your back curves, small whines and whimpers leave you as the heel of your foot thumps against the space between his shoulder blades.

You gasp out when you feel it, them. They start as small bumps beneath your palms, and you feel your chest tighten when it clicks what they are.

He’s always had a good hold on controlling them, keeping them hidden so he can wreak havoc without being clocked as something inhuman. They had peaked out a few times, usually in moments like this, but it’s such a rarity that you can’t stop the way your heart begins to thump in your chest.

Out of everything about him, you were obsessed with all of him, but you loved his horns the most. They were small and sharp at the side of his head and the way he looks when they’re poking out amongst his curled hair, and especially when he was grumpy or mad, made you want to jump on him and kiss him all over.

You were so caught up and distracted by them growing to full size directly under your hands you forgot how sharp they were at their tapered ends. The reminder you get is when they sharply down push into your palms like thorns.

You gasp sharply, but the way they curl makes you afraid to pull away. It makes you tremble and flush with embarrassment, but the pain bleeding into your hands is the last straw on your nerves. All you can do is wrap your now bleeding hands around the horns and cry out into the cold air as your erratic hips move across his face.

He groans deeply against you as your nails scrape at the skin that surrounds the base of his horns, the feeling of his and his still moving tongue pushes you through and past your gasping orgasm.

You sign in relief when he finally detaches from your body, his mouth moving up to press your hip and across the space of your stomach the dress reveals. He puts your leg down slowly and he creeps back up your torso, now hyper aware of your wounded hands still stuck on his horns.

“Sorry my love, they’re kinda sharp aren’t they?” he rhetorically asks with a soft but guilty grin. He stays ducked down enough that your hands don’t go too high that they start to slip, and he follows with his own to help you detach them.

“I just keep making my mark on you tonight huh?” he sighs as he stands at full height and brings your still bleeding hands to his face. You grit your teeth and scrunch your nose when he gives you a knowing look that says ‘we both know what I have to do.’

He is quick and gentle when he swipes his tongue across the deep cuts in your hands, not wanting it to sting more than necessary.

A teasing grin fills his face when he looks up to see the tired pout on your face, “just like the one on your leg, there won’t be anything left than a bruise if you just wait like an hour,” he’s sincere in his words, and you know it works, but you still feel all wounded and tired.

“Take me home,” you demand, wrapping your slowly healing hands around his shoulders and leaning until your head rests against his shoulder.

“Hey now,” he contradicts his tone by wrapping his arm around your waist and helping guide you walk to your apartment, “you still have to feed Oscar, and take a shower, and I’m not even full yet so you have to let me play with you until I wear you out.”

His tone is far too genuine and loving for the words he says, and you swat weakly at his chest in annoyance, but all he does in response is a laugh.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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[nctsworld]

in a king-size, say i’m your queen

✩‌ renjun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ prince!renjun | fluff | smut | ‌3.4k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you’re drawn to the kingdom’s prince staying at your family’s inn. on the night before he leaves, you exchange good-byes in the form of a kiss and more. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (near the end), unprotected s*x, f*ngering, oral s*x (m receiving), mentions of alcohol/drinking, commoner!reader, dash of angst RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature PROMPT ⇾‌ prince/royalty au // fluff + smut REQ BY ⇾‌ anonymous   ‌

⇾‌ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

“Prince Huang, this is my family, who will be looking after you during your stay.”

Your father awoke everyone from deep slumber in the middle of the night, hollering at everyone to put on their work clothes in a hurry. Little did anyone expect the actual prince himself to be taking a rest at your family’s inn, for several days apparently.  

As the youngest and only daughter among your kin, your father introduces you last in line to greet the prince and his companions. With sleep still in your eyes, you curtsy as gracefully as you can, once towards the prince and another towards his followers.

The sleep in your eyes disappears as your eyelids suddenly bloom at your first clear look at the man standing a few steps across from you.

Everyone within the kingdom obviously knew of the royal family, but being this far from the mainland never granted you the chance to see them in-person. There were rumours far and wide of how captivating and beautiful the family was, especially the prince, but you assumed they were exaggerating, fueling the propaganda mill that all royalty were gorgeous, godly beings.

Oh, to be absolutely wrong.

Air’s snatched from your lungs when his warm smile burgeons, warming the room more than the fireplace ever could.

He holds his gaze on you, placing a palm on his chest and saying, “My dearest apologies for disturbing your dreams. It was a must though; we haven’t stopped anywhere in days and finally found your inn.”

Your father replies to his words, while you blink observantly at the royal figure. You wonder if it’s due to the lack of sleep or simply all in your head, but you swear his glances waver over at you more than your other family members.

“Well, I will retire to bed now and won’t be requiring your services until morning. Please resume your slumbers, and I wish you all the sweetest of dreams.”

Puffing his cheeks cutely, he bends his head slightly towards your family, while all of you dip and bow to him. When you two jointly look up, your gaze surely connects with his.

Funny enough, his wish comes true as his beauty rules over your dreams, molding them into sweet ones, for the rest of the night.  

On the second morning of his stay, you watch him relaxing at the back of the inn among the luscious greenery. In a loose white-button up, he’s sitting by himself, save for a guard nearby, and lounging in a chair under the spring sun.

Prior to starting on your tasks for the day, you stroll towards him with a jug in hand. Smiling freely, his eyes are shut as you approach him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Your Royal Highness—”

His eyes flutter open at your divine voice and his smile deepens.

“But would you care for some lemon juice?”

The boyish man hums in acceptance and he’s glued to how you carefully pour the liquid into his chalice. His eyes track the path of your departure after you leave the jug on the table and head towards a group of trees in the farther end of the garden.

Though he delights in the picturesque image of you skillfully picking the yellow fruit, which he assumes are lemons, off the tree from your wooden ladder and dropping them into the bucket hanging from your hand, a desire simmers in his stomach to be in your presence. The prince's guard follows behind him discreetly as the handsome individual makes his way over and speaks to you from below.

“May I assist you?” he offers.

His appearance startles you for a moment, then your stare unintentionally drops over the exposed skin of his upper frame. You ponder over the smoothness of his skin and imagine yourself leaving kisses upon his clavicle, on his chest, going downward further and further...

Clearing your throat and shaking your head to focus, you airily laugh at his question. The highness’s eyebrows crease, perplexed by your response.    

“Prince Huang—”

“Call me Renjun, please,” he interrupts, laying a palm against his chest. “I insist.”

“Prince Huang,” you reiterate, not wanting to breach the formalities. “It’s my duty—and an honor if I may add—to pick these lemons for you, not yours.”

“Well, as prince,” Renjun gently seizes the bucket away from your grasp. “I order you to allow me to assist you.”

Incredulously, you stare at him for a lingering moment and he engages equally, delving into your glowing aura.

Since you can’t reject his order, you yield and continue to pick the lemons off the tree, now plopping them into the bucket held by Renjun. Throughout the comfortable silence, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for one second, admiring how elegant you are with the light breeze blowing through your hair.  

He wonders to himself if you’re aware of your devastating beauty.  

A couple of nights pass and during one evening, in the shared resting area, you find Renjun situated adjacent to the fireplace, reading a book alone (with a guard lurking close by, of course).

The prince’s features are already so soft, but he seems ethereal with the fire’s glow against his face. You’re reminded of the first night he arrived.  

As you usually do, you query if he needs anything before you retire to your room.  

He replies negatively, but then adds, “Would you like to hear some of the story I’m reading before bed?”

Shaking your head, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”  

“Not at all,” Renjun beams. He gestures for you to sit in the seat beside him, and you do so with prickling cheeks.  

His fingers flip a few pages back and he tells the short story from the beginning. Your cheek tips into your palm as you listen intently. Yes, the story is intriguing, but you’re also focused on Renjun’s voice. It’s soothing, yet lively with the specific parts in which he modulates his tone to flow perfectly with the storytelling.

And then you drift over his plush, kissable lips. You will yourself to focus on the story, rather than the reader.

In between his reading, he peers up from the pages to see if you’re still interested to hear the rest of the story, not wanting to waste your time nor bore you to death. He reads the dazzling expression on your face as a signal to finish until the very end.

When it’s over, Renjun asks if you enjoyed it. You hum positively and stand up, excusing yourself to formally leave for the night. You exchange pleasant good-nights and sweet dreams. While you shuffle off, before you’re past the doorway, he pipes up—

“Perhaps I can read you another story tomorrow evening?”

You turn around by the end of his sentence, grasping onto the doorframe.

Renjun continues, his grip tightening around the closed book. “If you wish.”

Your lips press together, in hopes to suppress a grin. It doesn’t work too well.  

“I’d like that very much.”

Time flies, and it’s already the second to last day before Renjun’s departure. Your family decides to arrange a party at the inn, inviting the fellow townspeople to join as well.  

Fittingly, Renjun sits in the middle of the long table alongside his associates and is entertained by the spectacle of the event. After the townspeople grant him gifts and dinner is served, the dancing commences. Throughout the evening, he keeps a constant eye out for you.

All night, you serve the guests and barely have time to properly eat your own meal. However, as the night lengthens, your parents urge you to live a little. In the middle of the hall, you rush to unite with your close friends, clasping onto their hands and dancing around in circles to the merry music.

The royal figure radiates, enticed from the scene of you laughing and jumping in joy, having never seen this side of you before. His heart flops at the endearing sight and an itch overcomes him. Taking a sip of his wine, Renjun anxiously wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and heads towards you onto the dance floor.  

Gasps trail behind his steps as he floats through the domino effect of bowing people. He casually says his thank you’s to everyone in passing and as the domino effect finally reaches a stop within the middle of the room, you’re the last one to formally greet him.

“Your Royal Highness,” you curtsy with a small smile.

He acknowledges with a bow of his head and shocks you by holding his palm out.

“May I share a dance with you?”

Your heart pounds in your ears as you glance around the room to ensure he’s talking to you and not mistakenly someone else. Additionally, you’re surveying the prospects because you are definitely not the most worthy to dance with royalty; the mayor’s daughter should be owed this dance, not you. You also shamefully touch your work outfit, wishing you were wearing something cleaner and more extravagant.

“Prince Huang, are you sure you want to dance with me?” you murmur, despite how everyone quieted down and can hear what you’re saying.

“Of course,” he stretches out for your hand and possesses it in his.

“Who else would I want to share a dance with?”

Your friends and all other parties now disperse and surround the two of you, dancing to their own fulfillment as you’re left in an imaginary bubble with just Renjun. Every twirl, spin, and bounce generates endless vivacious laughter from the both of you. You dance deeper into the night until your faces and feet soon ache, until it was almost only the two of you on the dance floor.      

Because of the aching, you stumble at one point, crashing into Renjun’s body.

He catches you in his arms. You look up into his eyes, then at his lips merely fingertips away from yours. Renjun’s liquored panting fans your face and you drown in it without reservation.

His eyes flicker to your lips too, and he gulps. Bravely, he raises his palm to caress your cheek, but as his skin touches yours, it jolts you to your core, popping you out of your secluded bubble and dragging you into reality.

Pulling apart from him, the prince asks if you’re okay.

You nod thoughtlessly, quickly thank him for the dance, and spew that you should begin to clean-up the hall, leaving him on the dance floor.

Renjun brings a finger to his lips and watches you run off.  

The last evening of his stay finally arrives. In your nightgown before bedtime, forgetting to ask if he needed anything before you changed out of your work clothes, you knock on his room’s door with the guard on-duty beside it.

His muffled voice beckons you to come in, and you open the door ajar to creep your head through the space. Noticing it’s you, he immediately drops the book he was reading onto his bedside table.  

“Prince Huang, did you need anything else before you leave tomorrow?”

Legs dangling off the largest bed at the inn, he thinks to himself for a few moments. He twists his mouth to one side, tapping a finger on his chin.

“I think I have everything in order...”

Then, he tilts his head to one side and puckers his lips. He darts onto his feet and adds, “Can you come in for a moment though? And please shut the door behind you.”

You’re taken aback by his request. Nevertheless, you fulfill it and close the door behind you as you walk in. Renjun’s eyes widen at the sight of you in your nightgown, clicking together why you didn’t fully come into his room in the first place.  

You rub one of your arms. “Sorry for my indecent clothing—”

“No, I’m sorry, uhm,” he palms the back of his neck nervously. “I just wanted to say a few words, so I’ll be quick.”  

He steps closer to you. Both of you stand in the middle of the room and he continues.

“Before I leave, I want to make sure you know that I quite enjoyed my stay here because of you and your family’s fine service, but I enjoyed it even more because of your cordial company.”

At his earnest appraisal and personal compliment, your cheeks flare and your jaw dangles. You bow with your head. “Thank you, Prince Huang.”

Renjun then faces the floor and picks at his fingers, trying to formulate his thoughts.

“I don’t normally do this and I’m about to ask the following not as a prince, but as a normal man. And let me preface it by saying that, as a man of my word, you are not obligated or pressured to agree to what I’m about to ask; you have every right to say no.”

He sputters everything so fast, it takes a bit for you to process his words. When it sinks in, you’re still unsure exactly what he’s talking about. Worried, you raise your eyebrows, anticipating his inquiry.  

Noting your confusion, he exhales a lengthy breath and goes straight to the point.

“As a send-off and to demonstrate my gratitude…”

He meets your gaze.

“May I kiss you?”

Your jaw, along with your eyes, hangs this time. Awestruck, you blink rapidly and inhale sharply as you stay frozen in place.

“I know it may be one-sided, but at yesterday’s gathering, I thought we shared a special moment and perhaps it’s my fault I acted upon it since we were among people, so I apologize for that—”

“You may kiss me,” you cut him off, relieved to hear his thoughts, and close the space between yourselves.

It’s his turn to don the rapid blinking.

“Are-are you sure?”

Cautiously, his palm cups your cheek, mirroring the memory of last night, then he adds his other.

“Yes, Pr-”

“Renjun, please.”

“Yes, Renjun—”

You collide as he captures your lips. He exudes innocence and it shows in his kissing; he starts off gently and barely expands his mouth. Each movement is lovely and oozes affection. Your fingers tug lightly at his nightwear, body humming emphatically in response.

However, as he tests the water, his kissing is soon stripped of innocence and is replaced by a sinful hunger. While his tongue slips into your mouth, grazing against your teeth, his hands traverse your body and confront your waist and neck, squeezing them upon arrival. You eagerly reciprocate his change of pace, desperately running your fingers through his hair and angling your neck to better the searing, open-mouthed kisses.

Since there aren’t many layers covering either of you, you’re blatantly aware of Renjun’s growing desire against your body.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he pants, “May I take you to bed?”

You bob your head fervently and croak, “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

You grin into the next kiss at his playfulness.

“Yes, Renjun.”

In retrospect, being taken in a guest room at your family’s inn was strange, but you couldn’t think much of it within the moment.

At the moment, all you yearn for is Renjun’s weight on you, locking your body into the bed with his. Lip-locked as he lays you down, he satisfies your yearning hastily.

While he dominates your neck, one of his hands is rashly underneath your nightgown and ascends to the haven of your breasts. You gasp at the initial contact, your fingers tightening in his hair and over his shoulder blade.

He kneads the meat of your tits momentarily, but he’s more fixated on attending to your nipples. Renjun’s thumb tenderly rubs over them prior to his loving pinches. At this point, his mouth zones in and nibbles on your earlobe, so he listens to your rising panting and erotic moans crystal clear.

Following his massaging and playing of your other breast, he withdraws from you to disrobe your layer in one-go and you return the favour to peel away his.  

Renjun’s purity ignites once more as he reveres your bare body, lovingly scanning all your curves and lines.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.  

Fluttering your eyelids, you lightly bite your bottom lip between your teeth. Truly, it was too easy for him to make your cheeks spark this often. He converges with your mouth sweetly before he wraps his pretty lips around your nub.

“Oh, my God, Renjun—”

Because your eyes snap in gratification, you can’t see the smirk on his face. He indulges in you calling him by his first name, especially so melodiously and within this context. A hand finds purchase upon the neighbouring breast, and another hovers under your warmth. Your hips buck heedlessly, begging for his fingers to dive further.  

They do so when he switches his embrace upon your breasts. Although you know he must feel it, the obscene, loud sounds of him fingering your sex confirm how wet you are for him. Renjun peeks an eye open to your wanton self. He adores the view in addition to your dripping pleasure contracting and spilling over his digits.  

Moving ahead, he retreats from you and mounts himself on the bed on his knees, stroking himself to harden himself for what’s to come. Despite still being breathless from your high, you rise onto your knees to match his stance in front of him.

Your dominant hand grasps his possession, taking over for him. Simultaneously, your mouth finally has the chance to reign over the smoothness of his frame—his neck, his carved clavicle, the expanse area of his chest, and his soft abdomen. He sighs blissfully, eyes batting.        

Your mouth proceeds lower to where your hand is located and aids to the swelling of Renjun’s desire. He gawks, mouth hanging, at the beautiful arching of your back and your enthusiasm as you engulf him.

Gripping him by the base, you stroke to the measure of your bobbing. To keep him enraptured, you occasionally focus on his tip, such as with the swirling and flicking of your tongue and initiating vigorous, targeted sucking. Not wanting him to reach climax yet, you pull away from him with a pop, but not before you leave a delicate kiss upon the glossy apex.

Once again, you recline downward onto the bed, except now with spread legs. Renjun pumps his wet length and lines it up with your glistening crevice. You stare at his cock upon penetration, and the flood of sensations from the impact causes you to crane your head into the pillow.  

Hands encompassing your waist, the lover thrusts gradually at first, allowing you to acclimatize to his girth. After some time, he surrenders to his carnal urges and plunges deeper with speed. Your chest heaves as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moons on his skin. Lowering himself, he secures your lips for a fleeting, sentimental moment.

To your surprise, Renjun picks up the rhythm even further, leading you to wail his name and incoherent noises repeatedly. In hopes to quell yourself, you lightly bite down on the meat of your index finger. It only partially helps since whimpers still trickle out from you.  

Both of you are nearing. Aching to be even more intimate with you, his hand flees from the flank of your body and over your head to lace his fingers with yours. His intertwining compresses alongside the pinching of his face. With your finger in pain, you release it and let loose. As one, you moan in sync with Renjun and you break together. He extracts himself, painting your stomach in white ribbons.  

Inhaling much needed air, you settle upon Renjun’s chest with his arm around you. He trifles with your fingers in his before he kisses the back of your hand.

“If you ever have the chance to come by the kingdom, I implore you to find me.”

Peering up at him, you agree enthusiastically. “Of course, Renjun.”  

With pink tinting over his face, he cups you by your chin.

“Promise?”

Hesitancy pumps through your blood. You know the chances of you ever leaving your home town would be very unlikely, and even if you could, you two could never be together for he is of royal blood, and you of none.

Nevertheless, you dare not to break the twinkling, awaited expression upon his face, so you reply—

“I promise.”

Sharing another kiss, you stay with him in the bed for a little while longer, savoring the brief amour as much as possible.