Relatable

halfassed pelle doodle page (wanted to try new brushes)

where’s it’s friday like it fucking matters

Neuvillette 💧

I met Hayden Christensen yesterday!! My experience under the cut!

I’m gatekeeping my photo cause yeah it’s for me but he was the sweetest!! But his head was like resting on mine and we were so close ughhhh..the hand placement yall…im dead. He has INTENSE EYE CONTACT JESUS CHRIST. I got my Vader tattoo signed (and got his signature tattooed as of this morning!!) he stopped the line so he could get his phone to take a picture of my tattoo. He was like ‘oh hey wait I need to take a picture of this. Where’s my phone?’ And then when he got his phone he was about to take a photo and he stopped and he was like ‘is it fine if I take a picture?’ consent king. He took a pic of it and then he pulled his phone back and he was like ‘can I get a smile?’ I ABOUT EXPLODED!! I’m on his phone now guys..guys..I..I’m not okay. He also stayed super late after the con closed to finish signing everything for everyone. Ugh I’m gonna go crawl back into my hole for another 6 months now.

:(

cropped out of something bigger that would be too gory to post here

So, I've got this 'horror'/angst fic kinda lame idea going on that's basically.. Øystein plans to leave for Oslo after Pelle shot himself dead and strange things begin to happen. He's never sure if they're 4REAL or it's all in his head but it slowly drives him to madness and the epilogue is pretty self explanatory.

Now, I've already got a moderately big fic that I'm working on rn but if anyone is particularly interested, lemme know <3

Ko-fi l  DeviantArt

this won’t stay on my profile forever

Whatever, Merry Christmas a bit late

Why was he so hot when he was literally going insane

;༊ 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐗

ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴᴛ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ᴄᴀɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ. (ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴀᴜᴛɪᴏɴ 17+)

Cloud Strife

I tiptoe through the dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning ever so slightly under my weight. The walls are lined with a series of doors, each one leading to a different room in this peculiar bug hotel. The place is eerily quiet, as if the very air itself is holding its breath. My heart thumps in my chest, a steady rhythm that echoes in my ears. The excitement of our adventure with Cloud and the Avalanche group has worn off, and now, all I crave is a good night's sleep. But my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, refusing to let me drift into peaceful slumber.

I pause outside Cloud's door, my hand hovering over the doorknob. I know I shouldn't disturb him, but I can't help feeling drawn to his stillness. He's always so stoic, so in control. Maybe he has some advice for a restless soul like me. I push the door open gently, just enough to slip through the crack without making a sound. The room is bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the lace curtains. Cloud lies on the bed, unmoving, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He's so handsome, even in the quiet of the night. His blonde hair is a stark contrast to the dark fabric of the pillow beneath his head. The shadows play across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. It's clear he's deep in thought, or perhaps lost in a memory. I take a step closer, the floorboards protesting under my tentative approach. He doesn't stir, doesn't acknowledge my presence. I wonder what keeps him awake, what secrets he's hiding from us all.

The room is small, almost claustrophobic, with the scent of antique wood and a hint of something else, something faintly metallic. The bed is the only piece of furniture, save for a nightstand with a single drawer. On it, a few personal items are arranged neatly: a small bottle of potion, a pocket watch, and a few pieces of gil. I dare not disturb his things, but the urge to know more about him is overwhelming. I settle for a chair in the corner, watching him from the shadows.

Finally, I decide to break the silence. "Can't sleep either?" I ask softly, my voice barely a murmur. Cloud's eyes flicker in my direction, and for a moment, I hold my breath. Then, ever so slowly, he turns to face me. "It's the quiet," he says, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "It's too quiet." I can't help but smile a little at his honesty. "Yeah, I know what you mean," I reply, crossing my legs under me. "But we're safe here, right?"

He nods, his eyes searching my face in the moonlit darkness. "We are," he assures me. "But my mind…it's never quiet." I bite my lip, considering his words. Then, I make a bold decision. Carefully, I stand and approach the bed, sliding in beside him. The mattress dips slightly under my weight, and I feel the warmth of his body seep into mine. He tenses up, clearly surprised by my audacity. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice tight.

"I just thought…maybe if we talked, it would help us both relax," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to protest, but I place a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "Please, Cloud," I whisper. "Let me help." He looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he relaxes, allowing me to settle closer.

We lay there in silence for a few moments, the only sound the distant chirp of a cricket outside the window. Then, I feel his hand cover mine, his thumb stroking the back of my hand in a small, comforting gesture. "Alright," he says, his voice a bit softer now. "What's on your mind?" And so, we begin to talk, our whispers filling the quiet room with secrets and fears. He tells me about his past, his battles, and the weight of his responsibilities. And as he speaks, I realize that behind the stoic exterior, he's just as human as the rest of us, with his own share of pain and doubt.

As we talk, Cloud's flustered state gradually fades into something more comfortable, his body language loosening as he lets down his guard. His breathing evens out, and I can feel the tension in the air dissipate. He's still looking at me, his gaze intense but no longer alarmed. I can't help but feel a warmth spread through me, a connection forming that goes beyond our shared mission with Avalanche.

I find myself admiring his eyes, those piercing blue orbs that seem to hold the essence of Mako energy. They're like windows to a soul that's seen more than it should have. Without thinking, I reach out and run my fingers through his silky blonde hair. It's a gesture of comfort, one that feels surprisingly natural given the circumstances. His eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he seems to lean into my touch, his shoulders relaxing against the pillow.

The sensation of his hair between my fingers is soothing, each strand a thread of gold that tells a story of battles won and lost. I'm lost in the moment, the feel of him, the sound of his voice, and the warmth of his presence. It's strange, this intimacy we've found in the middle of the night, but it feels right, like a balm to the ache in my heart.

His hand still covers mine, his thumb continuing its rhythmic dance across my skin. The simple touch sends a thrill through me, a spark that ignites a fire within. Our eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, the world outside our little sanctuary ceases to exist. The air between us is charged with something unspoken, something that neither of us dares to name. Then, as if sensing the shift, Cloud clears his throat and looks away, his cheeks a hint of pink in the moonlight. "We should get some rest," he murmurs, his voice gruff.

But I can't resist the urge to be closer to him, to feel the warmth of his body against mine. I scoot closer, pressing my side against his. He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, his hand stilling on my hand. We lay there, the space between us shrinking until there's no room for doubt. I can feel the heat of his breath on my cheek, and the scent of him—a mix of sweat, steel, and something inexplicably comforting—fills my senses.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his gaze darts away from me, focusing on the wall behind. His cheeks are definitely flushed now, and there's a noticeable bulge in his pants. I swallow hard, my own body responding to his proximity. I've never felt anything quite like this before, and the realization that Cloud might be feeling the same way sends a thrill through me.

With a trembling hand, I move to the side of the bed, reaching over to him. "Cloud," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let me help you relax." He looks at me, his eyes questioning, but I don't give him a chance to protest. I take his hand in mine and guide it under the blanket, placing it gently on the bulge in his pants. He gasps, his eyes going wide, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he lets me guide him, my hand over his, as I begin to stroke him through the fabric.

The material is rough under my touch, the outline of his erection clear and firm. His breath hitches, and his eyes squeeze shut. "Y/N," he murmurs, his voice strained. "What are you doing?" But there's no rejection in his tone, only a hint of wonder. I lean in closer, my breath warm against his ear. "Trust me," I whisper. "Let me make you feel good."

With a shaky nod, he lets me push his hand aside and takes over, my hand wrapping around him with a gentle confidence that surprises even me. His skin is hot to the touch, and he's already slick with need. I stroke him slowly, watching his face as his features contort with pleasure. His jaw clenches, and his hips begin to rock slightly in time with my movements.

"Shh," I whisper, pressing a finger to his lips when he lets out a moan that's too loud for comfort. "We don't want to wake the others." He nods, swallowing hard, his eyes squeezed shut. The desperation in his movements is intoxicating, and I can't help but smile to myself as I continue to tease him. His hand grips the blanket, knuckles white with the effort of staying quiet.

But the thrill of discovery is too great to ignore. Carefully, I slip under the covers, my heart racing as I pull away the fabric of his pants. His erection springs free, and I can't help but gasp at the sight of him. He's beautiful, every inch of him. I lean in, my breath hot against his skin, and take him into my mouth.

His hips jerk at the sensation, and I hold him steady, my hand at the base of his shaft to guide him. I suck him deep, my tongue swirling around the tip, exploring every ridge and vein. His breathing grows ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he's trying to hold back, to keep from losing control. It's a delicious power, knowing that I can give him this kind of pleasure.

My cheeks hollow with each suck, and I feel the muscles in my neck strain as I take him deeper. His hand finds its way to my hair, his grip tightening as he guides me to a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. The room is filled with the occasional rustle of the sheets the only indication of our movements. It's as if we're the only two people in the world, lost in this moment of shared need.

Cloud's breathing becomes more erratic, and his hips begin to move with more urgency. I know he's close, his body tensing with the effort of containing his climax. I suck harder, my hand stroking him in time with my mouth, feeling him swell even more in my grip. And then, with a strangled cry that he tries to muffle with the pillow, he comes, his release hot and potent in my mouth.

I swallow, savoring the taste of him, and pull back to look at him. His eyes are squeezed shut, his chest heaving with the aftermath of his orgasm. He looks absolutely spent, and for a moment, I wonder if I've gone too far. But when he opens his eyes, the look of pure ecstasy on his face tells me everything I need to know. He's never looked at me like that before, and the knowledge that I put that expression there fills me with a warmth that has nothing to do with the heat between my legs.

He gathers me into his arms, pulling me close so that my head is nestled against his chest. I can feel his heart hammering against my cheek, and the steady rhythm lulls me into a sense of calm. He nuzzles his face into my hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize my scent. It's a tender moment, one that feels more intimate than the passion we just shared. I wrap my arms around him, holding on tightly as if I can keep this moment from slipping away like sand through my fingers.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

Gabriel Bernardo on IG 🥀