#this is easier than actually learning to draw them

[cryophase]

moira mauga

#overwatch #mauga #moira #idk #this is easier than actually learning to draw them

[janebonbon]

new years resolution,,,,,,,,,,, draw more barnaby. end post

#dolly's rambles #but really new years resolution is to draw more in general #push our art limits more #draw more backgrounds and full drawings #which is so much easier with my new art tablet!! thank god #uhhh also learn (more) polish #Polish grammar will hit me like a truck this I know but I'm trying to stick to bulking up my vocabulary first #Vocabulary and spelling then grammar #til then we write po polsku like a toddler tak tak #apparently nouns have different forms depending on conjugation too?? #something about it being explained as 3D nouns to me but it made me physically ill knowing i will hate learning it #i will hope to be pleasantly surprsised who knows who knows! #aaah oh yes and comics #I'd like to make a comic or two even if they're short here and there #I have high hopes! high goals! #oh yes and hopefully i can get an at-home job or a desk job of some kind #because physical work is off the table i've absolutely ruined our body this way #i am built for the endless pursuit of knowledge! Not so much physical work #Which honestly wouldn't be such an issue unless work would actually abide by the limitations i've told them i have than pushing it #sigh....... but i digress #a new year! moving in two and a half weeks!! goodness gracious it hardly feels true... #I am excited! I am nervous! But I am filled with love and light for the first time in a very long time #my heart is filled with honey and i've never felt so sweet #That is something I have learned. Did you know? #It's a polish saying when you've been touched.. That it's honey for your heart #sort of like saying “that's so sweet!” #Miód na serce! #I wish you all a honey to your heart like that

[elvenbeard]

If I could make a living with taking silly little screenshots of silly little virtual people I'd do it all day.

Honestly AMM is such a godsend xD I've played on a GTA RP server for a long while, my character a photographer, and that was already so much fun, even with much more limited poses and having to direct the other players around to do this or that xD No real ability to zoom or change FoV, so much clipping to fix in post, but still a blast.

This now is like heaven, so many possibilities, I feel like I didn't even scratch the surface yet, also when it comes to custom expressions or making alternate appearances aaahhh...

#my goals of what I want to do/learn next: #not just with amm but modding in general I guess #how to make NPVs and take pics with my and some friends Vs #double-date type shooting with everyone and their LIs too because everyone has a different one xD it's gonna be great #then I want to learn how to make custom appearances because I'm going feral over the thought of seeing Kerry in game wearing V's tshirt #although I have no idea if or how that's even possible - but even if not I'll certainly learn sth out of it #and maaaaybe fumble around with making V a custom tattoo and/or eyes #it would not be a full makeover or anything - more like an adjustment of what's there #cause I do like his tattoos actually just want them to be a bit more personal (and easier to draw lol) #and I do like his eyes but I've had an idea for a tiny little adjustment/detail that I'd just really like to see come to live in game too #*yells forever* what have I done to myself picking up this game!! #loving every second absolutely thriving #i live in night city now #personal stuff #tfw the rant in the tags is longer than the actual post

[lieutenantselnia]

I didn't finish the first selfshiptember drawing I wanted to make on time (number 11 from this list), but I still plan on completing it later! Somehow I thought it would be a good idea to draw a picture with an entire detailed background (at least detailed compared to what I usually do), so it's taking me a good bit longer xD

I'm just debating now whether I'm going to finish it first and then go to the next prompt I want to do or if I skip it for now and work on the next one to maybe finish that on time🤔

#I'm not actually stressing myself too much with the prompts but I think it would still be nice to finish a few of them on time^^ #also somehow way too many of my ideas require that I draw a background so that's probably why it takes me longer in general #though I think the one from the current drawing is by far the most complex one bc I wanted to draw a view on an entire room #whereas most of my other ideas require landscapes (which I find generally easier than interiors) or just a tiny part of a room #additionally to all that I'm still getting used to working full time and have to learn how I manage my free time now

[colleendoran]

Yeah, I drew that.

Half my life as a comic book creator is explaining that almost all of my training as an artist is pre-internet, pre-Photoshop, and pre-computer.

No, I don't trace all my figure work or backgrounds because almost all creators of my generation had to learn to draw extemporaneously, and it is actually easier and faster for me to just draw off the cuff than it is to dig through a pile of pics to get what I want.

No, this doesn't mean I never use reference and it doesn't mean I haven't ever closely followed reference - or even closely copied a reference photograph.

It means I usually don't have to use reference for things I draw every day, like the human body. But if I had to draw the Taj Mahal, I'd use reference. I mean, I could do a generalization of the Taj Mahal from memory, but I'd need reference to get it right.

No, back in the day artists didn't all use the Camera Obscura, overhead projector, or lightbox. There is the sight size method, the comparative method, and the construction drawing method. I learned all three and have never used a Camera Obscura. I only used overhead projector a few times and hated it. I usually only use a lightbox to transfer sketches to the final art boards.

In classical ateliers, artist candidates are locked in rooms without access to any kind of Camera Obscura-style tools to make sure the artist can draw and paint without reliance on them.

No, this doesn't make me a Luddite and it doesn't mean I don't use computers now, it just means I can draw and paint and write without them, perhaps with a bit more confidence than some who never had to do without.

There are some computer artists who can do without, and some who can't. No judgment.

You do you.

I did without computers because there was no with computers. And that is how I learned.

But I don't appreciate that some out there flat out mislead about drawing methods because, it seems, if they can't do something, clearly other people can't either. Just because an artist used reference on one picture or even a dozen pictures, that doesn't mean every single element of everything they draw was slavishly referenced.

Most comic book creators of my generation did not and do not trace their figure work in Photoshop. Or whatever.

Some do. Most do not.

That's all.

#comics #drawing #neil gaiman #chivalry

[harryslittlefreakk]

the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

[weaselmcdiesel]

ok so it's not a comic hope thats ok with you but instead it's karkat n nepeta but designed by someone whos madly in love with them both

some more au explanations + transcript beneath the cut

they're maybe around 30-40 yo? This was mostly just an exercise to give both of them adult designs. uh. i'm only calling it an au because I made bs some explanations behind their designs while i was drawing them. so uh, in this universe, sburb never happens + things that happened because of sburb don't happen either, but the alternian society is relatively unchanged. i dont actually know.. what.. karkat does.. like i cant figure out why he wouldnt be culled but it doesnt really matter i just wanted to draw him looking cool! (i am. open to hear about speculation if you have any). also i figured that Kanaya would go to the brooding caverns after her lusus dies, bc the wiki said her lusus would die regardless of the game taking place n whatever, and probaly do something with the matriorb there idk. thats all tho! ill prolly draw them more and maybe develop more lore as i do ^^;

--

Transcript!

i don’t know what their dynamic is in the canon of this au… but that won’t stop me from making them kiss :]

The Vigilant adult karkat on alternia

new highly developed shoosing skill

honestly has a calmer demeanor because he’s learned what’s worth exploding about… though he probably developped a crazy resting bitch face

pleased (arrow to karkat with a neutral face)

The sash doubles as a sling for when he visits Kanaya in the brooding caverns. He’s also very tranquil around grubs because they don’t cause unmanageable problems. He’ll get mad if someone else bothers one

(yes i’m obsessed with dilfkat that’s why i drew this)

The Predator adult nepeta on alternia

Taller than karkat <3

still a silly goober, but better at getting what she wants

she probably got her title from a history of single-handedly slaying fearsome lusii. she likely takes assassination type of jobs because of her stealth. one of the more easy-going trolls from the group

--

also! fun fact. i was having trouble designing kk's outfit so i looked in an old antiques catalog book from the internet archive to get inspiration from objects that had the same colors as those that i wanted to use in his design? not sure why i did that. just had a hunch that it would be fun. so this is the object i found that strangely enough inspired kk's fit

haha.. and i also found one for nepeta, though it was easier to design her fit and i didnt actually need a reference object

the book was "Antique Trader antiques & collectibles 2009 price guide"

#my art #fan art #art #homestuck #karkat #karkat vantas #nepeta #nepeta leijon #ah. i need a name for this au for my organization purposes... well. subject to change but #nosgrub au #homestuck au #homestuck alternate universe

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

So consider this part 4.5? idk it's late.

Usual CW for this series with dubcon, mean Soap, post-trauma coping.

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #asset soap #asset john soap mactavish #dub con #non con #rape

[kcsplace]

Steve gets started attending Community College,but he doesn't tell anyone, embarrassed that he might fail, that they'll tease him, that they'll be embarrassed by him.  Nancy is going to go off and change the world, Jonathan's photography talent is gonna get him into art school somewhere, Robin is having colleges trip over themselves to offer her scholarships and Eddie's band is starting to draw crowds that aren't just about "checking out the maybe-possible-kinda-murderer-dude". 

Why would any of them want to hang out with a loser like Steve?

Steve, madly desperately and stupidly in love with Eddie even if he hasn’t said anything thinks that means he can't have kids now, but he knows he's good with them.  He also knows what its like to go from hero to zero and just how easy it is to be a shit in school and how important it is to change.  So he thinks he could be a good guidance counsellor.  He thinks he could help those kids out.  Kids like Max and Eddie that don’t have all the things he had growing up, kids like himself who didn’t have positive role models, kids like Will and Robin that are a little different.

His father shat all over that dream, told him he'd be shit at it, just like everything else he tried - he can’t even win a championship in four years of trying -, and so he's not paying for it.  As a result, sure in his decision, Steve's been working to pay for college (much easier in the 80s admittedly and at CC) but he's burning the candle at both ends, especially working for the credits to transfer as a junior into a four year college. 

Eddie finds him asleep in his car outside his latest job, all his textbooks on the seat next to him.  He lets himself into the car, wakes Steve up, all the textbooks in his lap, flipping through their pages in the dim illumination provided by the dome light.  Steve thinks Eddie's gonna mock him, tell him he's gonna be bad at it, he won’t be able to hack community college let alone a four-year, and even if he could, what school would hire a loser like him to help kids? He’s waiting to hear all about how stupid Steve is to think that just because he kept a couple kids alive, he thinks he can guide them during their most vulnerable times.  Steve tries to steer it off, starts blathering out that its nothing, just y'know, Robin tells him all thetime its good for the brain to learn and his dad’s been riding him to grow up and shit and that it was just an available course, but Eddie isn't actually dumb.

He starts dropping off notebooks to Steve's work, new stationery, he likes the feeling that his gifts help Steve get his grades, that Steve's working toward his future with the pens that Eddie gave him.  Its stupid little shit but seeing the pens that Eddie gave him shoved behind Steve's ear or him chewing on them while he studies...it gives Eddie the warm and fuzzies OKAY? he doesn't wanna talk about it

Seriously, Robin, he doesn’t wanna talk about spending a quarter of his legally obtained paycheck (fuck you so much, Sheriff) on shit from Ink Spot and he isn’t gonna.

after six months of keeping Steve’s secret, Eddie heads over to the Harrington house for some movies and weed - its not a school night after all - only to see Steve’s textbooks sticking out the trash.  He finds a dejected Steve sitting by the pool, and drops them all in his lap.  Turns out, after weeks of work and research, Steve had gotten a C on an important essay. 

“So you just quit?”

“Why not? I clearly can’t handle it.”

“Y’know, maye you should.”

“’Scuse you?”

“The kids deserve better than some iidiot that just quits the moment shit gets tough.”

“Glad you agree.”

“Or, you could let me help you.”

“You. the guy that took three goes to graduate?”

“Just proves I stick to shit until it’s done. And I’m gonna make sure yu do the same.”

One year, countless study sessions, one immense blowout fight over the Oxford comma, and a loyalty card to the Ink Spot later, Steve turns up on Eddie’s doorstep with an envelope that he thrusts at Eddie.  Tearing into the envelope like a gremlin, Eddie stares at the words in front of him.

“Well????!”

“Dear Mister Harrington, we are delighted to inform hmpffff-”

Eddie might not have been prepared for Steve to kiss him, but he got on board real quick.  Literally.  Dropping the letter and its promise of a place at Purdue for Steve to transfer to complete his degree, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, hopped and wrapped his legs around the man’s hips.

“Never made out with a college boy, before.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #kinda #Caseys steddie fics

[nopanamaman]

Do you have any advice for drawing & animating quicker or is it all practice? Perfectionism also ties a lot into my workspeed, and I've always wanted to make a comic, so I'm trying to find away around it.

Practice helps for sure! You become able to capture the shapes you want faster and learn to streamline certain aspects of your style.

But also if I had to point out other factors that helped me get faster:

Less frames per page. It's easier to make a less cramped layout look good. Yes, you will need more pages to show the same succession of events. But juggling a ton of speech bubbles and panels every time will really slow you down, especially if you suffer from perfectionism.

Less frames per animation. All my current animations are low FPS. Use references to pinpoint which keyframes to prioritise and experiment with timing to make the most out of the few drawings you have. Post production can help smoothen things out with tweening and light camera shakes.

Flow/composition over everything. Most people won't care about the anatomy or perspective being subpar if the flow is good. 90% of my animation frames look like actual shit, but I like the way they move, and that's how most people will perceive them anyways. People usually blitz through comic panels as well. As long as the art in a particular panel isn't distractingly worse than the rest of the comic, no one will care.

Storyboard. When I was making the comic page by page, I often ran into the issue of having to go back and change things because the flow ended up being weird when reading the whole thing together. Storyboards help you settle on the overall flow and composition super early on, so you won't need to redraw the same scene several times over.

Lasso fill. I saw a post on twitter about someone being shocked at how much lasso fill has sped up their colouring process. It couldn't be that good, I thought. It was that good.

#asks #blog

[beatcroc]

a year!!! as of today i have now been drawing these funny little pizza freaks, to the exclusion of almost everything else, for!!! an entire year!!! i wanted to do a nice group shot/lineup of everybody to compare to when i first started trying to draw them because oh boy were they bad. i never even posted most of them anywhere because they were so bad. but im posting them here, now, to see how everything's changed/evolved.

this is probably the hardest time i've ever had trying to figure out how to work with a style, but we got there eventually; i'm pretty happy with the handle i've got on everybody now...dont let ur memes be dreams. lots of unimportant journaling and idle thoughts abt it below.

older pics

the first one is the VERY first time i drew them, before i thought i was going to actually have any interest in drawing them [lmao]; it was just the one isolated image, for my friendserver, to illustrate the funney message, so there was no attempt to make it Good or actually understand anything going on w/ the designs or style.

second is the original run of practices sketches to start trying to figure them out for real; done after i started having ideas for the comics and such and realized oh god maybe i am actually gonna draw fanart for this. [again, lol, and lmao.]

third one is the first pt art thing i posted on here. there were a couple weeks of sprite studies between this one and the previous image. the one on the top right wasn't part of that post i just threw it on as space filler; i'd intended to shift to doing Sprite Redraws But Stylized to explore tings more, but that was the only one i did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

individual characters

peppino: by far the hardest dear god. bro what ARE your shapes how DOES your face work. jesus christ. everything i have trouble with this style for, peppino has it in excess. i draw in polygons! i need consistency! and that is the last thing this kind of style is concerned with. they are made of squarshy clay and i do not understand how to mold them. i was really hoping trying to learn this game's style would GIVE me that kind of flexibility for fun exaggerated facial expression but i don't think much came of it in the end 😔. anyway on the bright side all this means once i got peppino figured out a little bit everybody else clicked way easier.

fake peppino: honestly i never did anything with him on purpose except for how his eyes work + the perma-smile thing. i figured ok hes supposed to look weird and off model so whatever happens with him happens. and it did. and it kept happening. it is still, in fact, happening.

noise/ette: somehow, for every bit that peppino was the least natural thing i've ever tried, these two worked pretty much right off the bat. i still don't understand it, seeing as pretty much all the things at play for peppino are also at work for them. i think the new sketches are actually a little worse than older ones but not enough that i care.

gustavo: really funny bc i drew him on model twice and just went 'okay, cool nice, easy, um. he doesn't have any fucking legs?' fortunately he was the only one i had a strong idea for how to stylize him [square] and it worked exactly as i was hoping so wahoo.

brick: is an animal and therefore 5000x easier and more natural for me to draw/stylize than anything else in the cast. that is Just a rat bro. i can draw a rat.

gerome: i think the funniest one here. the most drastic and least necessary change imo. i was gonna have him be really small at first, like smaller than the noises, but then i just... didn't. he's just peppino-sized now. also i gave him like. actual human facial structure, which is funny bc in most cases i'd do anything to avoid, but it works well for his being A Rock to give him some angles and definition like that+ to differentiate his vibe from the rest of the cast who are all very squishy. also since he is essentially Just A Head it's good to emphasize that too ig.

john: i only drew john a couple times but he gets to be here because i like him. and because most of the stuff i applied to gerome was readily applicable to john, though i did try to keep him a little more uncanny because he is a Huge And Lanky Freak. i hate that he is barefoot btw but idk how to make his color balance look right with shoes.

pizzahead: i did not want to put him on here honestly but i Have drawn him a handful of times and more importantly i didn't know what i was gonna do with john's pose if i didn't have him there to be glared at. the only thing that's different with him is giving him wider-bottomed pants, which i got from when i tried to draw these guys in clone high style [i never posted that one either][i will eventually]

snick: he gets to be here because 1. he's like 6 lines 2. i like him and 3. ive scribbled him a few times offhand and it went pretty well

misc

there are some guys missing because those are guys i didn't draw enough [or at all] to have gotten comfortable with them. sorry

i would have Liked to shade these but for the time being i have accepted that my grasp of light/shadow has decayed to the point im not going to be happy with anything i try there, so For Now i am working on my presentation with flats i guess. gerome has a shadow only because he's shaded like that ingame and looks naked without it

anyway if you are still reading [hi?] i get to shamelessly plug now. i'm over the hill of my pizza run now, and while i still have plenty of things i want to make here, most of the bigger more in-depth ones have passed. pizza tower was the first thing in THREE YEARS to get me out of my oc groove to doing fanart, and once i am done with my ideas here i will be going right back to it. if you like my art or how i write characters/interactions you should check out my oc/webcomic blog @jamverse . i can't promise people who like pizza stuff will be terribly into my designs, but i can guarantee i treat my guys with the exact same sort of tone i handle the pt guys with. and hell, i've mentioned it a few times before, but like 70% of my characterization for fake pep is just copied off one of my characters, so if u are going to miss him... he will still be there in spirit >;p

and if you dont care about any of that and are still reading thank you anyway. actually making these comics + seeing how shockingly well-received they've been has done a lot for my confidence, and for seeing that my kind of stuff IS something people enjoy :')

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #gustavo and brick #the noise #noisette #pizzahead #arting #pizzaposting

[mochinomnoms]

I am eating up shirmpy chronicles content

I was thinking of the mix of genes that maybe there are some shirmpkids that have sharp pointy teeth like eels and eelkids that have a bit more blunt teeth like yuu what if we add Azul to the mix? Either in octopolycule or in uncle Azul either way he just wouldn't tolerate if the kids get bullied by "not fitting their species standards"

Also i fully agree with the ideas of mixes of shirmps and eels for the kids learning how a hybrid would work looks interesting but tiring I do think little eels and shirmps in case of octopolycule with purple-ish colors and spots would be so cute but as far as hybrid goes maybe MAYBE one of the elvers get born with shirmp antennas AND THAT'S WHERE I DRAW THE LINE and and more Azul and merkids Azul's mother teaching the kids how to do simple cooking stuff and while preparing the ingredients there is an elver next to her playing trashcan so when there is something that isn't of use from the ingredients the elver just goes :O and eats it

-Vaquita

Hell yeah! I have a few ideas for hybrid shrimpkids, I'll separate them via Tweels and Octopolycule:

Shrimpy Chronicles: Explanation of Hybrid Children

For reference: Fries can refer to both baby shrimp and octopi, so the shrimps will be called berries (cause the eggs look like berries lol) and octopi as hatchlings. Elvers are still baby eels! I'll refer to all the babies as fries in general to make it easier to read.

General:

All the kids, regardless of their fathers, are half-human. While the transformation potion permanently alters Yuu's appearance, it doesn't change their DNA. As such, the kids are a bit more mammalian than aquatic. This means that technically speaking, if Yuu is able to, the fries could be breastfed, but this depends on how human the fries are born as.

The most common variation in the hybrids is more varied colors/patterns. However, certain aspects of one species can pass over, such as the twin's teeth, pharyngeal jaws, and claws. Azul's dumbbell-shaped eyes, rectangular pupils, ink, and chromatophores can also be passed down. Shrimp Yuu's antennas, legs, “cleaning” behaviors, and patterning can be passed down, as well as some more human traits. Namely, the ones mentioned before, but they also have the potential to transform from merform to human without the aid of a transformation potion.

Because the fries are half-human, they are not suited well for the deep sea, unlike their father(s). Neither is Shrimp Yuu, even their type of merfolk is suited for corals reefs and bays. There is a chance that at least one or two of the fry will develop closer to their father(s), however.

The more gluttonous fries are actually a tie between the berries or the elvers. So the fry going :O to be a trashcan can be either shrimp or eel.

All the fries are prone to hiding. Eels, octopi, and shrimp all tend to hide in corals, crevices, etc. This makes them excellent at both hide n seek and giving their parents heart attacks.

Their diets are extremely varied due to their parentage, and while technically the berries and hatchlings can eat shrimp and octopus, it's more of the principle of the thing.

Moray/Shrimp Children

The most common result in hybridization for the twin's and Yuu'd children is higher variation in their colors and patterns. Teal and red at best makes a muted purple-brown, at worst is just a plain brown. Their kids are more likely to come out as either teal, red, or a more mosaic coloring (think of mantis shrimp's colors and patterns).

The elvers can develop antennas on their heads, like their berry siblings. Alternatively, they may not have pharyngeal jaws or sharp teeth, or claws. These elvers require more protection/supervision. Likewise, berries can develop all those traits as well.

Whether or not the elvers or berries are bioluminescent is random, but the ones with more eel traits are more likely to develop the trait

Sharp teeth are a dominant trait, so more likely than not most of the fries will have sharp teeth. Not all of them will develop the pharyngeal jaws though, and is more likely to show in the elvers than the berries.

Behavior-wise, the fries that take on more eel traits (regardless if elver or berry) will be prone to more predator behavior and instincts. You can find one of the berries barring their teeth at one of the elvers if they both take after their father(s) in this case. The opposite is true for the fries that take on more shrimp traits.

All the fries, regardless of which parent they take after more, will have the need to tend and clean each other and their family. This is because I just think the idea of Jade/Floyd being covered in fries is funny.

Octopus/Shrimp Children

Various patterns and coloring are also a common result for Azul and Yuu's children. Purple/lavender and red are adjacent colors (I think that's the word) so they mix much better. These kids will find themselves in a variety of shades of magenta, cool pinks, purple, lavender, red, or a patterned mosaic of those colors. They will have patterns similar to freckles on their skin, rings, but due to their ability to easily change their colors, they will copy their parents' patterns out of comfort.

The hatchlings can develop antennas like the berries, but the berries won't develop tentacles. They will, however, have more arm strength similar to their hatchling siblings.

Similar to the elvers, the hatchlings and berries with more octopi traits or behaviors are more likely to be bioluminescent

Berries may be able to produce ink from their mouths, while not all the hatchlings are able to do the same. Because of this, they are more prone to hiding to avoid danger and conflict.

Behavior-wise, both hatchlings and berries are prone to hiding. They are much shyer than their elver siblings, and you can find them using baskets, large shells, pots, etc as hiding spots. Often, if you find one, you will find many in that same spot. Sometimes, the hatchlings will develop the same cleaning tendencies as the berries.

These kids will also find themselves prone to cleaning their siblings and parents, but they are also collectors. The hatchlings and berries will get into groups and compete on who can find the coolest items. Their elver siblings are judges.

Moray/Octopus Children

Various patterns and coloring are once again the most common result for any of Azul and the twins' fry. Purple/lavender and teal produce a muted blue. But the fry will find themselves in a variety of shades of muted blues, purple, lavender, teal, or a patterned mosaic of those colors. They will have patterns similar to freckles on their skin, or the stripes seen on the twins' skin. They can also easily change their skin colors.

Hatchlings can develop Jade/Floyd's pharyngeal jaws and sharp teeth, as well as their claws. On the opposite end, the elvers may not develop those traits.

Regardless if they take more moray or octopus traits, they are all bioluminescent.

The elvers may produce a more ink-like mucus on their skin, while the hatchlings may not produce any ink at all. They may however produce the same mucus on their skin as the elvers.

Behavior-wise, technically speaking both morays and octopi are a type of predator, morays just more so. But you can find eels and octopi fighting in the wild. So, you can actually find the elvers and hatchlings play fighting against each other. They make it a game (whoever loses has to take over the other's chores).

The hatchlings and elvers are more protective of their berry siblings, and you can often find them in pairs or trios, with at least one elver/hatchling with one or more berries.

And that's all I got today folks! Womp womp, I love the Shrimpy Chronicles, they're so fun to write!!! As me for more, I have many thoughts and names for the potential children, hehee.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #octotrio #octopolycule #jade/azul #floyd/azul #shrimpy chronicles #vaquita anon

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 1: The Tourist

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: Haechan doesn’t mind being a background character in someone else’s love story as long as he gets a front row seat to the love scenes. He’s in university, still learning about himself, still exploring his sexuality, and during his last year, he finally experiences an awakening, realizing a truth about himself: he likes to watch

length: 11,045

tags: slowburn, friends to lovers, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (public & in private), general perversion, smut

Haechan’s first real heartbreak happens when he’s at university.

The girl he has a giant crush on – she’s the most gorgeous girl he’s seen at their university, like a model with her perfect body that draws the attention of every red-blooded straight man on campus – kisses one of Haechan’s friends right in front of him. 

It’s not a peck, not a chaste kiss, not even a kiss in a game of truth or dare (though they do play that game regularly at their small parties, at the nights at Mark’s rented house, spent drinking themselves numb after a rough week). It’s a kiss, like hands on cheeks, bodies pressed together, and the moment Haechan sees a flicker of tongue, he’s done.

“Okay, gross. We get it!” He says, and he wonders if his voice is actually as loud as it sounds in his ears. His heart is pounding, stomach lurching. 

Mark, Chenle, Jungwoo, some of the others are all laughing. Haechan’s face feels slack, stomach tight, palms sweaty as he looks at the bright smile on Shotaro’s face. Haechan feels that sharp bite of jealousy in his belly as she gravitates to stay by Shotaro’s side.

He ignores it. Ignores the jealousy he feels – because he has no claim on her heart; he’s never had the guts to confess his feelings to her – as the days and weeks pass by. Haechan buries himself in other girls, fucking his way through all the girls on the dorm floor beneath his until they all know him as a manwhore and want nothing more to do with him.

Desperately looking for anything to focus on other than the moon-eyes that Shotaro keeps shooting at the girl Haechan has spent so long lusting after, Haechan turns to a little good, old-fashioned fantasy material. He uses Twitter mostly, digging up some good content to watch and jerk off to, hiding himself in his bed at the dorm, thankful that his roommate is almost never home. 

His airpods, his phone, and a bottle of lube become his near-constant companions while he’s tucked away in the dorm room. It’s not a problem because he makes sure it isn’t one. He can still have sex with real women and distinguish what’s happening from the way things play out in the videos he watches online. He’s not delusional, okay?

But he does quickly learn a few things about himself. He unburies a few kinks he didn’t realize were a thing for him.

Like, getting caught jerking off by his roommate. That’s one that he didn’t realize he liked until it happened. His roommate doesn’t seem to care too much the first time he walks in on Haechan with his hand wrapped around his own cock. Even the second time, a week or two later, it’s no big deal. It happens. But when he walks into their dorm room and finds Haechan making direct eye contact with him as he cums, then it’s a bit much.

“Dude, get the fuck out,” his roommate had said, and Haechan had obeyed. 

It’s awkward after that, every time they encounter each other, so Haechan begins to spend a lot more time at the house a few of his friends rent together. Their sofa is always open, sometimes a few of them let him sleep in their beds whether they’re in them or not. He still crashes in his dorm sometimes because all of his stuff is still there, and when he needs to focus on his coursework, it’s always a lot easier to get done there than at the house. But things between him and his roommate remain tense. There are many nights, he just hangs out at the house until everyone kinda falls asleep, or until they ask him to just stay the night.

This is particularly easy on nights when everyone is over at the house. Their whole friend group gathered around the living room on the floor and sofas, on armchairs and bean bag chairs. Once the alcohol comes out, Haechan knows he’ll be fine to stay the night tonight, even if it means snuggling up on the sofa between YangYang and Xiaojun, neither of which live in the house either, but who both are likely to pass out from overindulging in drinks.

Sometimes, if Haechan is really lucky, she stays the night too, folding her beautiful self onto the sofa or an armchair. He’s watched her curl up in one of the armchairs, still clinging to a half-empty bottle when she falls asleep. He’s been lucky enough to be on the sofa with her one night, her head resting on his shoulder, and his shirt still smelling like her perfume the next day. 

Tonight, he watches as the party dwindles around him, as his friends that don’t live here slowly leave, until only a few people are left. She’s one of them, giggling at something Renjun’s telling her. Her eyes are shiny, dancing around the room to look at the last few members of the party – Jaemin and Jeno, both of whom live here, one of the girls in their friend group who spent the first part of the night teasing Haechan about his flubbed presentation in one of their shared classes, Shotaro, Chenle, Sungchan, and Haechan. She smiles when she meets his gaze, and his heart does a foolish little flutter.

But then Shotaro passes by, and her smile grows infinitely brighter.

Haechan loses track of her when Jaemin starts squawking about whatever game he’s just lost against Chenle, and when Haechan next looks up, she’s gone. He doesn’t see her again, so he figures she’s left for the night along with everyone else after a short while longer.

He curls comfortably on one of the sofas, dozing lightly until some sound drags him out of his dreams. A creak of floorboards, the sound of rushing water tinkling against the kitchen sink. 

Haechan sits up, squinting in the dim light. It’s still the middle of the night. Who the hell is up right now?

He twists around, looking in the direction of the kitchen, and what he sees there freezes him to his core.

There she is, an absolute vision.

A vision of her in another man’s shirt.

Haechan’s fingers curl against his blanket. Jealousy turns his stomach. She’s wearing Shotaro’s shirt, the holey band t-shirt that he brought over with him from Japan, the one that Haechan and Renjun have both insisted he get rid of. She’s wearing it. And if Haechan isn’t mistaken, the shadowy mark on her neck is a hickey.

Suddenly, a lot of different things make connections in his mind.

That kiss he’d witnessed between her and Shotaro, the one that everyone had thought was just the one time kiss. The moony eyes Shotaro’s been making at her since then. And many little things from the past few weeks. Many little things from just tonight – they’d both vanished for a while earlier during the movie, but Haechan had just assumed she’d gone upstairs where some of the guys were gaming; the way they’d sat so close together for most of the rest of the evening. But mostly, the way that they’d had similar truths about sex during a game of truth or dare someone had brought up; the way she’d vanished entirely tonight, just shortly before Shotaro had turned in for the night.

He doesn’t know what he plans to do, not really. Even as he pushes the blanket off of himself, as he rises to his feet and walks towards the kitchen, Haechan doesn’t know what his next move is.

She looks up, startled. Her eyes are wide, open and innocent in the darkness, frightened even.

One of her hands drifts down to the hem of the shirt, tugging it down a little. The other holds a glass of water.

Haechan can’t help drinking the sight of her in, even if she is wearing Shotaro’s shirt. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorway to look at her. Gorgeous. And her thighs are beautiful, he just wants to feel them against his hips, he wants to bite them and kiss them, feel them squeezing against the sides of his head as he – 

No. 

He can’t do any of that. None of that will happen with her because she’s with Shotaro in whatever capacity. And Haechan isn’t going to infringe on that no matter how he feels. 

So, in the moment, Haechan puts on a brave face and decides to call her out on it. “So, you and our innocent Shotaro, huh?”

The way that she holds his gaze in challenge is truthfully very hot. He watches the way that she gulps down her water, a stray drop spilling from the corner of her mouth, trailing along her face to her jaw. Haechan struggles not to imagine catching that water droplet on his tongue, tracing it back to her lips, kissing her until she completely forgets whose bed she’s left.

And then she walks towards him, and all he can smell is her perfume or her shampoo or body wash or whatever it is, he’s just enveloped in a cloud of her. It drives him a little wild, forcing him to look away from her before he does something really stupid like kiss her. Because she’s not his to kiss; it’s Shotaro’s lips that she’s had all over her tonight because up this close, Haechan can definitely see a hickey low on her throat, almost hidden by the neck of the t-shirt. 

He makes his accusation, putting it out there into the world just to see if she’ll deny it. Her and Shotaro. It doesn’t make sense, not to him. The boy is an innocent, or at least he was up until he claimed otherwise tonight. What does she see in him? How good of a lover could inexperienced Shotaro really be?

To Haechan’s surprise, she doesn’t deny what he’s figured out. She’s got a bold, sharp look in her eye, though she’s avoiding looking directly at him. She doesn’t deny a thing about his assumptions about her and Shotaro, instead she asks, in a quiet voice that crackles with a challenge, “Are you going to tell everyone?”

No, he’s not going to tell everyone. That would be really fucking stupid of him. She’d be furious, and he’d be ruining any chance of her ever wanting to speak to him again. Ruining any tiny chance that if this thing with Shotaro goes sideways, she might someday consider Haechan, even though deep down he knows that if he ever stood a chance with her, it would’ve already happened. She’s gorgeous, she’s not been celibate in the while that he’s known her, so if she’s avoided his company and has instead found herself in Shotaro’s then that’s probably where she’d like to be. 

He doesn’t know what brings him to do it. Doesn’t know why he lets his arm brush against hers because the moment that he feels how soft her skin is, how warm she is, his brain short-circuits a little, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m just glad Shotaro’s finally made his move. He’s had a crush on you since the first time he met you.” It’s the truth, but he’s not entirely sure why he’s telling her this right now. He can remember the first day that Renjun introduced Shotaro to all of them, the way that he’d fit right in, the way that she had come in at the last minute, running late because of something to do with the campus buses. She’d been windswept and a little sunburnt, wearing a sundress with one of the straps sliding over her shoulder.

She’d been enchanting.

Apparently, Haechan hadn’t been the only one caught under her spell that day. 

Hours later, after she’d left, Shotaro was sitting there, talking with Renjun, YangYang, and Haechan. He’d been pretty quiet up until someone mentioned her name, and then his eyes had lit up. It was obvious right away that Shotaro liked her, and he liked her in a different way than Haechan usually heard guys talk about her. Haechan himself was a bad example since he was lusting after her, in love with her body more than anything else. But when Shotaro talked about her he was wanting to know more about her, wanting to repeat all the things she’d said that he’d found funny; he liked her for her personality and didn’t even mention how great her tits had looked.

Haechan had assumed it was just the innocence of Shotaro, but tonight he’s seeing that Shotaro clearly harbors lusty feelings for her too. 

“I thought his heart would’ve exploded that day you kissed him in front of us,” Haechan tells her, watching the way that her gaze flicks up to meet his briefly before dancing away again. In truth, Haechan’s heart had nearly burst that day too, but surely Shotaro’s had as well. It had been Shotaro’s first kiss, with the girl of his dreams. Haechan still could only wish that he and Shotaro could have switched places that day. What he wouldn’t have given to be the one kissing her in front of all of their friends, to have them all know that he’d bagged the hottest woman on campus; he wanted to be the cause for her blush; he wanted to be the one who had walked away with her at his side.

He doesn’t know what he expects from her at this moment. What her reaction would really be to him telling her that Shotaro’s had a silly schoolboy crush on her for the past year and a half, but he doesn’t expect this.

Her shoulder knocks roughly against Haechan’s, pushing by him to escape the doorway. “You should go home, Haechan. Stop crashing on their couch,” she says. She walks away, crossing the living room towards the stairs, heading back to Shotaro instead of lingering for even a moment longer to talk to Haechan.

“Yeah, yeah.” Haechan feels a new burst of jealousy, thinking about her climbing those stairs, crawling back into Shotaro’s bed, pressing herself up against him in that t-shirt. Or, even worse, maybe without it. And again, he doesn’t know why he says it when he calls out in a voice just above a whisper, “Go crawl back in his bed!”

She’s going to do exactly that.

The sight of her extended middle finger draws a laugh from Haechan, but she doesn’t look back. She climbs the stairs and vanishes from sight. 

He collapses back down onto the sofa, trying to stop straining his ears for any sounds overhead. What is he trying to hear, anyway? The creaking of the floorboards? The squeak of the mattress springs as she rejoins Shotaro in bed? Or what, her waking Shotaro and them making sounds together.

A strange pit opens in Haechan’s belly, twisted full of complex knots that he can’t even begin to untangle the meaning of. 

Somehow, he eventually falls asleep, though his dreams are possessed with jealous scenarios. Her face, Shotaro’s, his own. Scenarios where he gets her, only to find her taken away in Shotaro’s arms. Dreams where he’s trapped outside the room while the sounds of her and Shotaro having sex echo in his ears. He wouldn’t necessarily call them nightmares. 

He doesn’t know exactly what wakes him in the morning, but something startles him awake, finding himself with a face full of bright sunlight on the sofa in the living room. His blanket is tucked up beneath his chin, and there are voices everywhere. Mainly though, he hears Shotaro’s voice, telling some story, and as the words come together in Haechan’s still half-asleep brain, he realizes that the story Shotaro is telling is a lie. An excuse for why he’s come down from his room this morning with company.

Haechan opens his eyes, catching sight of her standing on the stairs. She’s wearing her own clothes now, that hickey from the night before hidden away. He remembers one of his dreams when he’d been the one to give her that mark. 

The others seem to buy the bullshit story about her being drunk, vomiting and passing out in Shotaro’s bed. Haechan hears the quiet exchange of words between her and Shotaro in a soft, lovey-dovey tone that makes Haechan want to be sick. He sees them leave the stairs, making for the door and their smooth escape, and he can’t help it. He wants to make himself known to them before they leave.

“Such a gentleman, our Shotaro.” He says, “Letting her sleep in your bed. So sweet.”

She turns her head around so quickly, Haechan would be surprised if it didn’t hurt her neck. There’s venom in her eyes, but at the moment, Haechan can’t feel the sting of it. Especially when he’s instead blinded by the bright, bright sunlight as Shotaro throws open the front door. To combat her glare, Haechan responds with a wink and a wave, though that just makes her pretty face tighten.

“You should go home, Haechan,” she repeats her parting words from the night before. “Stop crashing on their couch.”

He laughs, because what else is there to do? 

She and Shotaro step out into the daylight, closing the door behind them. He laughs again, chuckling to himself as he remembers her words, the look on her face. 

A pillow smacks him full in the face. 

Haechan swears, bringing his hands up to ward off the possibility of a second attack as the pillow falls away. He looks up to see Renjun standing over him, glaring down at him. “She’s got a point. Either pay rent, dude, or get off our couch. Figure out the deal with your roommate.”

It’s impossible to figure things out with his roommate, but luckily, the other guy gets a girlfriend — the lucky bastard — and he starts spending all of his time at her apartment. Haechan returns to his ways of jerking off every chance he gets just so he can attempt to forget about those dreams he’s been having about Shotaro and her tangled together in bed. 

Weeks pass, and he manages to do a pretty good job of avoiding them. It helps that most of his nights are spent in his own bed at his own dorm now, but even when all of their friends are together, he always manages to miss being one-on-one with her and Shotaro. Until one weekend. 

The camping trip to the lake. 

All day long, Haechan was tortured by the sight of her bathed in sunlight, wind blowing through her hair, her face constantly lit up with smiles and laughter. All of the girls were wearing bikinis which had been a delightful sight to his eyes, and Haechan had even found his attention drifting to a few of the guys to admire the way their muscles moved and glistened with sweat in the sunlight. But his attention kept returning to her and the way she filled out her bikini. She easily could be a model, so gorgeous that he can imagine her as one of the models on the cover of a swimsuit catalogue, a Victoria Secret runway, or a Playboy magazine. 

He purposely puts himself close to her all day, though he also notices the way that she keeps gravitating toward wherever Shotaro is. 

Sometimes Haechan allows himself other distractions. He wrestles with Mark and Renjun in the shallows. He plays beach volleyball with several of them. He flirts with Karina where she floats on a pool float tied to the dock. He spends a short while sunbathing on the dock with one of the girls and Xiaojun, all three of them staring up at the clouds. 

And then comes the time in the early afternoon when a few of them start playing chicken. Shotaro is nowhere in sight, so Haechan takes the opportunity to ask the object of his lust if she would like to play. And to his luck and surprise, she agrees to partner with Haechan, letting him hold her on his shoulders. Her bare thighs rest over his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, and he knows it’s probably just his imagination, but he could swear he can smell her — sweet temptation tucked just beneath the scent of sunscreen and sweat and those fruity drinks Xiaojun and YangYang had been mixing up and passing out all day. 

They lost the game of chicken, but Haechan didn’t even care because for those few moments he’d had her. Or at least, it had felt like he did. Her fingers had tugged at his hair as she said his name with her thighs on his shoulders. And maybe his imagination got a little carried away. It was a good thing he was up to his waist in the lake so no one could see the trouble rising in his shorts thinking about all of her sun kissed skin against his. 

It wasn’t until hours and hours later, when the sun was plunging towards the horizon, when some of the other guys were busy grilling meat, that Haechan sat down beside the bright bonfire, pulling on a hoodie to ward off the chill sweeping in. Some of the others drift inside to rinse off after the day spent on the lake, the others start dinner preparations, and Haechan helps out some, mostly as a mood-maker, trying to draw laughs out of those whose faces have grown grim with hunger and irritability after being in the sun all day. 

When Haechan looks across the fire after a while, he finds her sitting there. Her hair is damp, her cheeks ruddy from the sun, but she’s freshly showered, dressed warmer now. Gone is all of that gorgeous exposed skin, the bikini that had felt like nothing when he’d held her on his shoulders earlier. He watches as Shotaro passes by her, brushing his hand over her shoulders. Haechan witnesses the little grin she throws towards Shotaro as he keeps walking into the house. She makes a move like she could just follow, and Haechan’s imagination takes that and runs with it, envisioning the two of them sneaking off and fucking in the house, imagining how he could walk in….

“This is a nice break, huh?” A girl drops down into the seat beside him. She smiles, wrapping her arms around her knees as she draws them up towards her chest. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like this semester is kicking my ass.”

Haechan welcomes the distraction. 

“Professor Kang especially,” Haechan agrees. He and this girl have several classes together since they’re in the same major, and the course that Professor Kang teaches is one required for the major, but if it wasn’t Haechan would have dropped it by now. 

She laughs. “Kang’s class is a little rough. But I’m doing pretty well in it right now if you need any help.”

Haechan isn’t even surprised by that. The girl sitting beside him is probably the smartest in their year. She does well all the time; the professors compliment her on it in class. Haechan’s definitely sought her out before for help dozens of times since they met as freshmen. 

“I might take you up on that,” he sighs, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “But like you said, this is a nice break. I feel like this weekend we can all just relax and let loose a little.”

She’s smiling when he looks over at him. “When do you ever hold back from letting loose, Lee Donghyuck?” 

The sound of his full name from her lips makes his stomach do a flip. People so rarely use it, and when they do he’s often in trouble. But that’s not how she said it, with her voice warm and happy, full of laughter. 

She is laughing, Haechan realizes, and he laughs too. She’s not wrong. Haechan takes pretty much every opportunity he can to crack jokes, to relax, to bring a little brightness to the days of the people around him.

Xiaojun comes over to see what’s so funny, and he draws her attention away until Haechan feels like he’s been cut out of the conversation. He decides to go help finish up the last of the meal prep. 

He does his best to try to rile up some of the others as they all eat. Trying to get a round of dares going because he wants to see someone have to go skinny dipping in the lake tonight even though the night air is quite cold now. No one’s up to play his game unfortunately, but as the night sinks in around everyone at the fire, Haechan does convince YangYang to drink with him, to see which of them can drink the most. 

The more he drinks, the harder it is for Haechan to keep his eyes from drifting across the fire. The harder it is to ignore the way Shotaro and the girl are so wrapped up in each other. And Haechan Isn't blind, although all of their friends might be, so he can see that Shotaro has stolen her heart, and that unsettles Haechan. 

For as long as Haechan has known her she hasn’t been tied down in a relationship, but now he can see that if she isn’t already, then she’s about to be fully in one. 

It throws off the balance of the world he knows, shutting out any possibility of him getting to experience any fun with her. 

Unsettled, jealous, a little drunk maybe (though Haechan refuses to admit that YangYang might have beat him), that’s what drives Haechan to say what he does. 

His words leap over the fire as everyone’s making jokes about Mark and one of their other friends finally jumping over the line between just friends and fuckbuddies. 

Haechan’s eyes are fixed on her and Shotaro, his heavy tongue lifts, mouth open to draw everyone’s attention to the secret couple in their midst. 

He can tell from the look in her eyes then that he’s done for. There’s no going back from these words he’s speaking, but it’s too late. Drunken words are sober thoughts, and all that, but it just keeps spilling out of him while the others around the fire look on. 

“Shotaro has obviously been in love with you from the start,” Haechan can hear himself saying, “Literally that very first day you met each other. He wouldn’t stop talking about you that night on the way back to our dorm, and kept trying to get Renjun and Mark to invite him to places where you would be. Absolutely lovesick. And then you were his first kiss? How romantic! Did you take his virginity too?”

Jaemin spits his drink out when he laughs, and several of the others laugh as well, someone spouts out their own teasing comment aimed at Shotaro. The night crawls over Haechan’s skin, but he’s staring at her. At no one else but her and the fire reflected in her eyes. She’s beautiful. She’s pissed off, but she’s beautiful. 

It’s the sound of the others around him joining in, it’s the alcohol soaking through his veins, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, just anything to embarrass Shotaro honestly, because Haechan can see their fingers knitted together now, and he knows that Shotaro is the one that she wants and Haechan hates that, he absolutely hates it. He was here first, he should’ve taken his chance while he could. 

The jealousy eats at him, so he goes on and on, attacking everything from Shotaro’s lack of experience to the high likelihood of him being bad in bed. 

Even when she rises to her feet, the fire in her eyes no longer just a reflection of the bonfire, but her own blazing anger, Haechan leans back in his seat and smirks. She uses his full name, and its the second time he’s heard it used today, but this time is certainly the more familiar usage — with the tone of anger and followed by her telling him to fuck off, an accusation of him being drunk. 

He does start to feel a little bad about it when he notices the tears swimming in her eyes as she rails at him for bullying Shotaro. Haechan’s gaze flicks over to the other man, and he finds Shotaro looking a little embarrassed, but they all tease him about this stuff all the time, and Haechan’s drunk, so he can’t really be held accountable for what he’s saying right now. He and Shotaro will still be friends in the morning. 

Haechan isn’t really listening to what she says, not until he hears her say, “We don’t all ask about your sex life, or lack thereof. It’s not like you’re getting a lot of action.” 

That starts a fire in Haechan’s belly. It’s not like he never gets laid anymore. He can if he wants to, but it seems like since he found out about her and Shotaro his fantasies have starred the two of them more often than not, and he can’t have her, so it’s just a lot easier to settle for his hand and a fantasy. 

But she’s not finished yet. 

“Maybe you should be worried about your own skills instead of Shotaro’s.” She takes a half step forward, and Haechan is once again thinking about how hot she is even while she’s angry. She’s gorgeous, and maybe if she weren’t so obsessed with Shotaro, Haechan could redirect this anger she’s feeling into something more productive. 

Or so he thinks, drunkenly, until her next words. 

“Maybe if you were a semi-decent fuck, you’d not be sleeping on the sofa at their house every night.”

Those words finally hit home. 

He’s not a bad fuck. 

He’s more than a semi-decent fuck, thank you very much. 

But hearing that insult from her is more than he can take at the moment. It’s annoying, is what it is. She doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about. Just last week, at a party, he’d fucked a sorority girl boneless and she’d still begged him for more. He’s a good fuck. 

He sits forward in his seat, fingertips digging into the edges of the arm as he tries to haul himself forward. 

He at least has the sobriety of mind to bite his tongue from saying the first thing that springs to mind. He holds in the offer to show her firsthand his skills although the words dance right there on the tip of his tongue. 

Instead, he says something else. 

“You want to talk about what I’m up to every night?” He could tell her a thing or two — the kinks he’d awakened in his weeks of video-watching trying to get over her, the things he’s already been experimenting on with people he’s met on a hook-up app. She doesn’t need to worry about what he’s up to. “Why don’t we talk about how every night you’re there fu—“

Shotaro rocks to his feet, face twisted with anger that Haechan has never seen from him before. A shout leaves his lips, drowning out the rest of Haechan’s words, leaving them floundering in the taste of vodka on Haechan’s tongue. 

Maybe this time they won’t be friends in the morning. Haechan can see that in the way Shotaro glares at him. At the possessive way that Shotaro puts his hand on her shoulder, moving her away from the fire, away from Haechan. 

She goes. 

Shotaro follows. 

Haechan rises to his feet, wanting to follow because he’s not done. 

Renjun’s there in an instant, and although he’s smaller than Haechan, he’s easily able to manhandle him. Especially since Renjun’s relatively sober and Haechan…. He’s had more than enough. He knows that. Renjun’s telling him as much as he corrals him inside the cabin, rambling to him and lecturing him about the things he’s said. 

He doesn’t want a lecture. Doesn’t want to think about anything else. He definitely doesn’t want to sit inside this cabin and pretend like he can’t hear the muffled sounds of Mark and their other friend fucking in the back bedroom. 

Renjun forces Haechan to sit at the kitchen table. He puts a glass of water down in front of him. 

“Drink, Donghyuckie.” He collapses into the seat beside Haechan, rubbing at his forehead like he’s got a headache. “Why do you always have to stir up shit with Shotaro, huh? Just because he genuinely likes the girl you just want to fuck? Because she kissed him? Move on, buddy. She’s clearly not into you. There are plenty of other people that are.”

Haechan glares but doesn’t say a word, just downs the glass of water as quickly as he can. Renjun just picks it up and refills it for him. 

He doesn’t want to talk about this with Renjun. Doesn’t want to talk about it with anyone. So he just sits there silently and sullenly, allowing Renjun to all but waterboard him in an attempt at sobering him up. 

By the time the couple in the back room stumble out to the kitchen, looking a little bit rough and blushing, Haechan does feel a whole lot less drunk. Some of the others have started to drift inside, toting in their blankets and their drinks and snacks. Calling it a night.

Haechan can hear someone singing out by the fire though, and Renjun wanders back out there, his voice joining in. Haechan can’t just sit inside and be miserable, and he doesn’t feel tired yet, so when Mark heads back to the fire, Haechan follows. 

Wherever her and Shotaro had gone while Renjun dragged Haechan off, they’ve returned. She sits tucked into Shotaro’s side. They look happy, and Haechan feels like shit.

And his mind is a lot more clear now. The jealous haze is gone, except for a tiny wrinkle of it in the back of his mind, so he has the clarity to at least stop by where the two of them sit. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “I was a dick before, and I know it. I just — I don’t really have any excuse, other than that I was just being an asshole.” He lowers his voice a little, glancing at where their hands now sit intertwined above the blanket that covers their laps. “But, hey, now it’s not a secret anymore, right?”

That thought doesn’t seem to reassure either of them too much, so Haechan walks away, snuggling into the spot between Mark and Renjun. The girl Haechan had talked with about school earlier is sitting across the fire  shooting looks at him, and he can’t help wondering if he was that much of an asshole earlier that she’s wary of him; he and her have always gotten along, but now when he looks at her, she avoids eye contact.

Haechan steers away from the bottle of whiskey that is getting passed around, and slowly the rest of the night passes. The crowd around the bonfire shrinks as his friends disappear inside, and soon there are only a core few of them left. 

The night wind whistles in off the lake, biting at his bare legs where he’s still wearing his swim trunks from earlier today. 

Jeno laughs, then he turns to look at Haechan, at the other few still left. It’s only Shotaro and his girlfriend, Jeno, Haechan, Xiaojun, Mark, and the girl from earlier left around the fire now. 

It’s grown cold out even with the bonfire. Haechan wishes he’d opted to put on warmer clothes earlier in the evening instead of just his thin swim trunks and a hoodie. Several of the others are bundled up in jackets and pants and blankets. As Haechan looks around the fire, the girl he has class with shivers, tucking her feet under the blanket covering her lap. Xiaojun is still sitting beside her and he drapes another blanket across her lap. 

Jeno smiles around the fire at all of them as he says, “Maybe before we all head in, we take a dip in the hot tub.”

“I think I’m done for the night.” Mark stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s too cold.”

“It helps that you’ve got someone new to warm your bed, though, I bet,” Jeno calls at Mark’s retreating back. Mark just flips him off.

Haechan is chilled to the bone, so it sounds good to him. Xiaojun also heads in for the night, but all of the others agree, and before he knows it, he’s stripped down to his boxers, sitting in the boiling hot water of the tub up on the deck. He’d almost forgotten about it since it’s tucked off to the side of the house. 

He’s entirely sober now. He’s downed enough water over the last two hours that he’s probably fully replenished any of the dehydrating effects of what he’d drunk earlier in the night. But tragically, as he realizes after he’s been stewing in the hot tub for a little while, he needs to piss. 

He’s not so much of a dick that he’d do it in here, so he gets up. Internally he curses at how cold the air is on his bare skin, but externally he doesn’t say anything even as he can see the steam rising from his skin, even as his swim trunks cling tight to his hips and ass. He just grabs his sweatshirt from where he dumped it with everyone else’s clothes, and he heads inside. 

He just goes in to take a piss, expecting he’ll be back out there with the rest of them in a minute. There is no way Haechan’s gone for longer than five minutes, but when he steps into the kitchen on his way back outside, he finds the girl who’d been in the hot tub now sitting at the table. Jeno’s clothes are on the floor, which means he’s probably not out there either. Did they all come in?

She’s got her head pillowed on her arms, but she turns her head to the side as Haechan approaches. Her eyes look heavy, sleepy, as if she’d been about to doze off. 

“Are you just gonna sleep out here?” Haechan asks. 

There are plenty of rooms in this house to sleep in, not to mention those nice tents out there by the fire. If it’s her roommates she’s trying to avoid — which he would also avoid rooming with Karina and Winter, like she was supposed to be — his room on the second floor is still open. 

“You know the King bed upstairs is still open,” Haechan tells her without really knowing why he’s offering. He’d won that single room fair and square from the other guys. But maybe it’s because he’s slept with Karina before — actually slept with her, not just fucked her, though he has done that too — in a room shared with Winter, and he knows the sparks of jealousy that Winter can ignite when her space is infringed upon. “If it's the idea of rooming with Karina and Winter that has you scared to sleep in there, you’re welcome to the room up there.”

Her eyes go wide for a second, mouth forming a soft o, and she shakes her head a little. She looks cute like that, and Haechan feels a little smile rise to his lips. He’s not saying that he’s never really thought of her that way, but it’s never really struck him much. Not when there was someone around to overshadow her like Shotaro’s girlfriend. But right now, she looks cute, open and vulnerable in her expression. Not to mention the open and vulnerable way that she’s still barely dressed from the dip in the hot tub. Haechan can’t fight the urge to sweep his gaze over her, all the skin exposed by the little bra she’s wearing and her underwear that are still wet and a tiny bit see-through. 

He notices the way she draws her arms closer to her body, pressing the bundle of her clothes against her chest as she stands. 

“Why is no one sleeping up there?” She asks, and it takes Haechan a second too long to remember that he’d just offered up his bed to her for the night. 

Haechan explains quickly that he won the single room, and it’s still unoccupied because he’s not tired yet. And then he repeats his offer for her to take it. She just looks at him with these wide, pretty eyes, then she asks, “And what about when you do get tired? Where are you gonna sleep then?” 

He just shrugs. He’s really not tired at all right now. He could use a good long soak in the hot tub, especially if the rest of them have abandoned it. Or maybe he’ll just go sit by the fire, pick up one of the beers someone surely left out there. And he’s pretty sure that YangYang left half a bag of marshmallows out there for roasting. So right now the thought of where he’s going to sleep isn’t really something he’s too concerned about. “That’s a problem for then.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, so Haechan reaches for the door to step back outside, and the doorknob has just turned beneath his hand when he hears her quiet voice behind him.

“When you get tired Haechan….” She pauses just long enough that Haechan turns to look back at her. 

She’s twisting her shirt in her hands like she’s nervous, and Haechan can’t help smiling at that. Does he make her nervous? They’ve been friends for a while now, sharing classes, study rooms, meals and conversations. When they’d talked earlier today she hadn’t seemed nervous at all, but right now she does, and Haechan knows that when they first became friends she had a crush on him, but he thought she grew out of it. Maybe not. Her cheeks grow a little warm, her gaze dipping away from his before returning. 

“Well, it’s a big bed,” she says, “I’m happy to share.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Haechan pulls the door open, still watching her. 

He sees something there in her eyes, buried deep. Just a flicker of some deeper hunger, a small spark in the dark.

Interesting.

But it’s gone just as quickly, and Haechan looks away, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” to her, and then he’s stepping out through the doorway. 

Just as he rounds the corner of the house to return to the hot tub, Haechan freezes in place. 

The hot tub, which had held four people when he left, and which he believed would now be empty, still holds two people. 

Haechan shrinks back around the corner of the house, but he doesn’t withdraw completely. Doesn’t look away. 

How could he look away from the sight of one of his fantasies playing out right in front of his eyes? The girl he’d just finally relinquished his lustful crush on now straddling Shotaro? Her shoulders steam as she drapes her arms over Shotaro’s shoulders, as he draws a hand up out of the water to touch her back. Haechan can’t look away, transfixed by the way that she shivers into Shotaro, the way her back arches slightly against his light touch. And she’s smiling, holding Shotaro’s gaze when Haechan sees the other man’s wrist flick, and then his breath catches in his throat. 

Her bra falls away, and Haechan has dreamed of her tits. He has had very, very specific fantasies about fucking them, fondling them, resting his head on them during post-coital bliss. 

But he’s never seen them in person. Not until right now. 

Shotaro drops her bra over the edge of the hot tub, and Haechan can only stare, like a fucking pervert, at her bare tits. They’re perfect. Her nipples stand to attention in the cool air, and then Shotaro’s hands are on them, just like Haechan wishes his were. His hands flex at his sides, curling into fists, trying to rid himself of the phantom feeling of soft boobs in his hands. 

And then Shotaro’s lips are on her neck, and Haechan watches the way her eyes flutter shut, her mouth falls open. 

He should stop looking. 

Look away, he tells himself. Just go inside, and stop being a pervert.

But he likes watching. 

He likes to see the way her body reacts. The way she gasps and shifts in Shotaro’s lap as he kisses her neck, as he trails his kisses down. The soft moan she lets out when he scrapes his teeth over her collarbone. 

Fuck. 

Haechan feels his cock stirring in interest. 

He notices when she shifts higher in Shotaro’s lap, when her mouth falls open on a sigh that becomes a moan of Shotaro’s name. And then she starts moving, rolling her hips, and Haechan realizes that Shotaro must have his fingers inside her right now. She clutches at Shotaro’s shoulders, and Haechan wishes with all his being that he could be Shotaro right then. To have his fingers buried inside her soft, tight heat. To have his lips on her tits, her writhing in his lap and saying his name. 

Haechan can tell Shotaro isn’t holding back. He’s not teasing, not drawing it out. He’s just giving it to her exactly like she wants it. And Haechan drinks in the show, the way she rides Shotaro’s fingers, her face flushing and eyes aglow when she looks at Shotaro’s face. And then, Haechan gets to witness her cumming, falling apart on Shotaro’s fingers, beneath Shotaro’s lips. She pulls at his hair so tightly. 

Haechan doesn’t even notice at first that his hand has risen to his own hair. That he’s knotted his fingers through it. He tugs, and it’s only at the jolt of pleasure that goes straight to his cock that he realizes what he’s doing. 

He’s so damn hard in his pants right now. 

Even watching her kiss another man, in this context, Haechan feels nothing but arousal. He watches, knowing that it’s wrong, but also knowing that he likes it. 

He likes watching her with her guard down, uninhibited and raw with Shotaro, unaware that Haechan’s watching. The thought makes his cock throb a little, and Haechan reaches down, just offering his cock a little squeeze. 

They’re moving again in the hot tub. Her and Shotaro are making out, and Haechan, from his vantage point twenty feet away, can only barely hear Shotaro moaning into the kiss. More importantly, Haechan’s focused on the way her body moves, on how she’s clearly grinding down on Shotaro, but Haechan wonders if he missed the moment when she started riding Shotaro, or if she’s really only teasing him right now. 

Another squeeze of his hand around his cock, the glide of his palm over the tip. 

Fuck, she’s so sexy right now. On top. In charge. 

The wind whips around the corner of the house towards Haechan, carrying with it the sound of Shotaro whining. His head thumps against the side of the hot tub, just gazing up at her. Haechan wishes, again, that he was in Shotaro’s spot, looking up at her like she’s a star in the night sky, like she’s the moon, like she’s all that matters in the universe with her pussy so tight around him. 

He shivers, his foot moving. 

His toes knock into a small branch on the deck, and it makes a small scraping sound, rolling away across the boards. 

Haechan moves, drawing further back around the corner, but lingers close enough to peek around. 

For a moment he thinks he sees her look in his direction, but there’s no shout of anger, no look of surprise. 

She just dips her head to kiss Shotaro’s cheek or his neck. Her hair falls in a curtain obscuring Haechan’s view a little bit until she sits up a moment later. She shivers in Shotaro’s lap, goosebumps rising on her skin and her fucking nipples look like they would feel so good in Haechan’s mouth. 

Damn it all. 

He pushes his hand down the front of his swim trunks, fingertips moving over his abdomen, down to wrap his hand around his bare cock at last. 

Now Haechan can see that she was definitely just grinding on Shotaro before. He can see the way she rises up a little bit, the way she reaches down beneath the water, this look of mischievousness and delight in her eyes as she sinks down on Shotaro’s cock. 

And then she moans, and Haechan’s entire body goes numb. 

That sound. 

It’s unmistakable and so loud that probably half of his friends heard it in the house. Not that her or Shotaro seem to care. 

Judging by the way that she moans, Haechan feels a new brand of jealousy. Is Shotaro’s cock really that good? Haechan has never seen it, obviously he’s never heard any tales about it, but if just sinking down on him has her making a sound like that then Shotaro must have a dreamy cock. 

Haechan thumbs at his tip, smearing a bit of precum around, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be jerking off to the sight of his friends fucking unwittingly in front of him. 

But then she starts moving, starts kissing Shotaro in an absolutely filthy way with visible tongue and moaning from both of them. He can see Shotaro with his hands on her ass, her back, her tits. 

Haechan just leans against the wall of the house, hand fisting his cock as he starts jerking off, moving his hand at the same pace that she’s moving on Shotaro.

And when she starts bouncing? Tits jumping on her chest, Haechan feels a new jolt of lust and lets a fantasy overlay reality. He’s still watching her with Shotaro, but he’s also envisioning himself beneath her, her pussy hugging his cock, her ass smacking against his thighs, and his lips wrapped around her tit, his hand at her hip to keep her moving. In his fantasy, Haechan is making her moan, but in reality, he’s mostly just hearing Shotaro, which should probably be a turn-off, but something about everything combined means that Haechan’s cock is growing harder, more wet at the tip as he twists his wrist, imagining his face buried in her tits. 

He thinks about earlier today, when she’d sat on his shoulders for the game of chicken, the scenario his mind had come up with then of eating her out, her taste on his lips as he’d imagined the smell of her all around him. 

Haechan bites his bottom lip, feeling a tug in his belly, the tightness in his balls. 

And when he refocuses on the sight in front of him, he watches Shotaro standing up, lifting her out of the water with her legs twisted around his hips. She laughs a little, her voice carrying clear over to Haechan as she says, “Fuck me, Taro! It’s cold out here.”

Shotaro laughs too, turning to sit her ass down on the edge of the tub. 

Not that either of them could possibly be aware of it, but doing this has made Haechan’s view just that much better. Although now he’s getting an eye full of Shotaro’s ass, Haechan can also see where their bodies join. Can watch her thighs tighten against Shotaro’s hips as he drives into her, can catch a glimpse of his cock pushing into her and — oh, fuck, Haechan can barely hold in a moan as he sees her pussy. Pretty, perfect. Again, he imagines licking her out, his tongue swirling circles on her clit, her voice moaning his name. 

“Taro!” She cries out, shattering that little bit of Haechan’s fantasy. But still. 

Her nails rake over Shotaro’s back, and Haechan feels phantom zings of pleasure down to his lower back. 

Shotaro fucks her like he’s got experience, and fuck, Haechan supposes that he does have experience right here with her. He knows exactly where to touch, where to kiss, what angles and how deep and everything that Haechan doesn’t know in this situation. He fucks her with confidence, and with the ability to show her so much pleasure that Haechan can tell she’s on the brink of orgasm. 

He’s close too, seeing her like this. All laid out like a vision as Shotaro works her to the edge. 

And then it happens. 

There’s no denying it now, not when she glances his way, and their eyes catch. 

Haechan thinks that this is it. That he’s done for. 

But she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t yell and make Shotaro stop so they can kill Haechan for being a pervert. She locks eyes with him, and there’s something there in her gaze that makes him reevaluate everything that’s happened in the last few minutes. Earlier when he thought he’d narrowly avoided being caught, had he actually been spotted? Had they put on a show for him?

Fuck, that thought alone, that any part of what he’s witnessing had been done with him in mind, even just a little bit. 

Shotaro grabs her chin, dragging her mouth back to his. Her eyes flutter shut, Haechan forgotten. 

Haechan doubles down on his cock, and his orgasm hits right as hers rocks through her. He cums over his fist inside his swim trunks, watching her toes curl, her fingers dragging through Shotaro’s hair and down over his shoulders. 

He’s still pumping his cock, his body wracked with pleasure, when she slips off Shotaro’s cock to sink into the water, and Haechan watches her give the most intense, sloppiest head to Shotaro. Maybe Haechan cums again a bit, watching her bob her head on another man’s cock, and perhaps he feels a bit filthy for it too, but there’s a deeper satisfaction to be found there. 

Haechan doesn’t hang around to watch Shotaro cum in her mouth. He slips back around the house, down the stairs from the deck, and he walks over to the bonfire. They really should’ve put it out before they walked away, but it’s dying now anyway. The last burning embers of it flicker in the wind off the lake, and Haechan takes a seat, wipes his cum-covered hand off on a towel that someone left slung over this chair, and he stares into the embers to process what the fuck just happened. 

How is he going to be able to look either of them in the eye again after tonight? If Shotaro knew that he was watching, then their friendship is probably definitely over. 

He can’t believe he just stayed there and watched. 

Of course, he knew he was a bit of a perv, maybe an exhibitionist when his roommate walked in on him the first time and Haechan liked it. He definitely knew he was into it when he held eye contact with his roommate while cumming that other time. And, sure, his interest in watching porn definitely stemmed from him enjoying watching other people going at it. 

But this? 

“Haechan.” 

It’s the sound of his name that finally snaps him out of his stupor. 

He has to blink away the afterimage of the embers imposed on his eyes, but when it clears enough, he sees her and Shotaro both standing there staring at him. Hands clasped, still wet and flushed from the hot tub. 

He doesn’t know if they’re here to talk or if they’re claiming one of the nice tents out here to sleep in tonight. Either way, Haechan doesn’t want to be here. 

He stands up, not making eye contact, brushing right by them with nothing more than a goodnight. 

Inside the cabin, it’s very quiet. Everyone is asleep, and Haechan can feel the need to sleep finally catching up with him, the big bed upstairs calling his name. 

Shit, he remembers, the bed isn’t empty anymore. 

He does his best to open the door quietly, but even with his caution, he has barely pushed the door open before he hears the sound of a startled movement from the bed. She’s half-lifted herself up, and she’s just staring at him in the dark.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he steps inside. “It’s just me.”

She sighs and sinks back down into the bed, and that’s when Haechan realizes she’s lying on his side of the bed. He prefers the left side, but it seems rude to ask her to move now. He closes the door again behind himself, and he does his best to keep quiet as he moves around the room towards the ensuite bathroom. He needs to rinse off – or at the very least clean up his jizz. 

Haechan pulls his hoodie off, letting it fall to the floor, and then he casts a quick glance at the girl laying in his bed. Her back is to him, so he feels fine about it as he drops his swim trunks and takes those last few steps into the bathroom fully nude.

He flicks the light on in the bathroom and takes a look down at himself. Gross. He grabs a wad of toilet paper to clean himself up, then decides the still slightly damp washcloth draped over the edge of the bathtub will be better. It takes only a moment to wipe his tacky cum off his skin, then he turns the light off again, and steps back out into the room. She’s still got her back to him, and she doesn’t move at all when he walks across the room to reach the desk where he’d sat his baggage for the weekend. 

It’s pitch black in there anyway, so even if she were to look over at him, it’s not like she would really see anything. And it’s not like Haechan isn’t confident in how he looks. He is. But… this is different.

His bag is sitting on the desk, and he quickly grabs out a pair of sweatpants, slips them on, then walks over to the wrong side of the bed.   

“You smell like lake water, bonfire smoke, and chlorine.” Her voice is half-muffled.

“I’ll shower in the morning,” Haechan says, pressing his face into the pillow. It’s not right. This pillow isn’t as comfortable, but that’s probably because he brought the pillow on his side of the bed from home. It’s perfectly formed for him, and he’s half-tempted to drag it out from beneath her head or maybe make her switch him sides of the bed. “You’re on my side of the bed, by the way.”

She snorts a tiny sound of amusement. 

Haechan moves just slightly, and he feels his foot bump against some part of her. Possibly her calf – he doesn’t know, all he knows is that whatever part of her it is is soft and warm.

“You’re the one that invited me,” she teases, “Guess you should’ve been more specific about where you wanted me.” 

She turns over to face Haechan then, and the movement sends a tiny puff of air in his direction. She smells nice, and he breathes in again, noticing that she doesn’t smell like nasty lake water or chlorine, and she only smells a tiny bit like smoke from the fire, but there’s something else sweet and aromatic about her that makes his mouth water just a tiny bit. 

And maybe his dick grows a little hard too, if he’s being honest. 

She’s already in his bed, so it doesn’t take a whole lot for his imagination to get carried away, especially not when he notices that now that his eyes have adjusted to the light level, it’s not nearly as dark in this room as he’d first thought. There are two uncovered windows, and light comes in through both of them – from the fading bonfire and from the lights over the hot tub on the deck below.

In that small amount of light, he can see her face now, and when his eyes briefly dip lower he can see that she is still only wearing that clingy thin bra that she’d worn in the hot tub. Her tits look perfect right now, like they would feel perfect in his hands or beneath his lips. He can just imagine rolling her onto her back, tugging the top edge of that material down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth….

But no. He’s not going to fuck her tonight. 

They’re just friends, and he might be a manwhore but he’s not an asshole. Making a move on her when it’s already so late and she’s clearly half-asleep, when he’s the one that told her that she could just sleep in this bed, that would obviously be a dick move. 

So no, not tonight. But he’s not saying never.

“Next time I’ll make it clear where I want you,” Haechan says, and he hopes she hears the promise that if they someday find themselves in a position at all similar to this one, he’ll be glad to position her exactly how he might want her. 

In the morning, Haechan gets rudely awoken by YangYang shoving into the room, not even bothering to knock in his rush to use this room’s bathroom. Haechan just groans and rolls over, stretching his limbs out across the bed as far as they can go, and it takes him a moment to realize why all of the space tickles some part of his brain as strange. Because then he remembers that this bed wasn’t empty when he fell asleep last night. 

Haechan lifts his head to squint at the side of the bed that prior to last night had been his. Empty. Sheets rumpled, but empty of the girl who had filled them.

He just drops his head back down, and he rolls over, sliding onto that half of the bed to get comfortable on his own pillow from home.

The only thing is that it doesn’t smell like home right now. 

It smells like her, like that pretty attractive scent he’d breathed in last night. He feels a little perverted when he buries his nose in the pillow to take a whiff. There’s one spot that stimulates something deep in his brain, and he wonders if that’s where she’d laid her head for most of the night, if that’s her shampoo that he’s smelling the most right there. He groans a little.

Yeah.

He’s definitely a perv because he’s getting hard again.

First the hot tub voyeurism and now this?

God damn, he’s a freak.

Willfully ignoring the rising problem, Haechan gets out of bed and heads down to the kitchen, determined to start the day off either with a coffee if someone’s got some brewing or a beer or maybe even something stronger if it’s available. 

Renjun squints at Haechan when he comes down, complaining about how he’d been woken up by Jeno nearly puking on him, hungover as hell. He lays all the blame on Haechan, since he’d been Jeno’s drinking buddy earlier in the night yesterday, and he’d also been one of the last ones hanging out with him last night, so he should’ve at least gotten him to trade out the alcohol for water.  But thinking of Jeno makes Haechan think of the hot tub, and thinking of the hot tub makes him think about the scene he’d witnessed, and that is something he can’t think about right now. 

He can’t risk it showing on his face somehow, and he refuses to admit to anyone else about his perverted moment last night. He can’t even face the happy couple. Not over breakfast when they appear in the kitchen hand-in-hand, blushing and bright-eyed from outside where they’d slept in one of those tents. 

He avoids them until he can’t anymore. 

For some reason, YangYang is the one allowed to steer the boat that had come with this rented property on the lake, which YangYang thinks makes him the Captain. He stands on the dock, waving everyone on board until the boat is at maximum capacity minus one. 

Haechan lingers on the dock as Shotaro and his girlfriend step onto the boat. 

YangYang stands there, watching Haechan, waiting. “Dude, are you not coming?”

To everyone’s surprise, but no one more so than Haechan, Shotaro answers. “Oh, no. Haechannie likes to just watch.”

Heat flashes through Haechan’s face. 

So they both knew about last night. 

And Shotaro is making jokes about it. 

Her face is lit up with laughter. Everyone else brushes the comment off, but Shotaro smiles, looking at Haechan with forgiveness in his eyes, even amusement. 

Haechan rocks past YangYang and onto the boat. He puts his arm around Shotaro’s shoulders, and he glances first at her where she’s watching the two of them, and then he meets Shotaro’s gaze so close to his own. 

“Consider me a tourist,” Haechan says, and the feeling of his words resound in his bones. “I just want to enjoy the view.”

That brings a laugh from both of them, Shotaro pushes him away, but Haechan moves further onto the boat. And then YangYang hops on board, unmoors it from the dock, and moments later he’s Captaining everyone across the lake. 

And Haechan looks around at his friends, his gaze lingering a little extra long on the happy couple, where Shotaro’s hand rests so low on her waist that it’s pretty much on her ass. His gaze passes momentarily over his friend who’d shared his bed last night; his attention pauses on Jeno where he’s wrestling with Jaemin, both of them shirtless and dripping with the beer that Jaemin had just dumped over Jeno. Haechan sees Karina and Winter drinking with Chenle. There’s Renjun grinning down at his phone at the far end of the boat. And Haechan again Haechan’s attention returns to the girl who had fled his bed this morning, she sits now with her head tipped back to soak in the sun while Xiaojun talks to her and flexes his muscles

Yes, Haechan thinks as he takes it all in, he’s certainly something of a tourist, enjoying the view.

YIMA chapter index || next chapter -> 

a/n: Chapter 1 done! If you’d like another perspective of this chapter, you should check out kiss kiss (fall in love) which is a 3 part Shotaro x Y/N fic, and that scene in the hot tub occurs in part 3! 

#haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #lee haechan

[bingwriterxo]

distrust

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which you and tara have the conversation

warnings: mentions of stabbing

word count: 1100+

author’s note: heheheh

“We need to talk.”

The words tasted like poison on your tongue and felt like shards of glass as they tore their way past your lips, hanging heavy in the air. They were met with silence, and you watched Tara’s shoulders tense—the only sign of acknowledgement you received.

You huffed, standing from her bed and crossing the room, taking the back of her chair in your hand and spinning her around to face you. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, the skin between them creasing, but her eyes were trained on the wall behind you, glazed over as though you weren’t even there.

“Tara,” you said, voice short.

She glanced up at you, but her gaze didn’t linger, falling right back to the spot on the wall. “What?” She sounded annoyed, like she wanted to be anywhere other than there.

You swallowed and took a step back, wondering if a conversation was even worth it, but still you trudged on, figuring you owed it to yourself. “We need to talk,” you repeated, continuing with, “about us.”

Tara shrugged. “Okay. What?”

The weight of the situation came crashing down on you, and you sat on the edge of her bed, your legs trembling. Were you really about to have the conversation with the woman you had believed was the love of your life?

Bile rose in the back of your throat as you thought about the best way to phrase your next sentence. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about the conversation—in fact, you had envisioned it so many times in the past few days that you were starting to drive yourself nuts—but now that it was actually happening, no words seemed to be good enough.

You inhaled shakily and clamped your eyes shut. “Do you still want this?” you asked in a whisper, unable to speak any louder.

For a moment, it was silent. You opened your eyes to find Tara’s gaze finally on you, and you shivered beneath her hard stare.

When she didn’t respond, you tried again. “Do you still want to be in a relationship with me, Tara?”

She blinked; then, “Why are you asking me that?” Her words were backed by anger, but her face was completely blank, revealing none of her emotions.

“I just…” You sighed and bowed your head, staring at your wringing hands. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Tar. You barely talk to me; you can barely look at me. It just feels like you don’t want this anymore.”

Tara scoffed, drawing your attention back to her, and a pit began to claw its way into your stomach as her face contorted into irritation.

“I don’t know what you expect!” she all but shouted, causing you to slink back. “I mean, Jesus, Y/N! What the hell do you expect?!”

“Tara—”

“In the past year, I’ve been attacked multiple times by people I cared about! First, it was my girlfriend.” You glanced down, vision blurring at the mention of Amber. “Then, my roommate and one of my friends! I mean, do you think I’m gonna be happy-go-lucky constantly?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“I don’t even know who’s capable of what anymore!” She ran a hand down her face. “I don’t even know if I can tru—” She cut herself off, like she suddenly thought better of her next few words, but it was too late.

“If you can trust me?” you finished, voice wavering. You blinked back your tears and looked at her, frowning. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

Tara simply stared at you, expression dissolving into nothingness again. She was good at that, you had learned over the few months since the last Ghostface attack—it was easy for her to put on a mask, to pretend and lie and act. You hated it.

“Is that why you’ve been acting like you couldn’t care less about me?” you asked, the very words making you feel like your world was breaking apart. “Because you think I could…what…suddenly decide to attack you one day? And maybe, if that happens, it’d be better that you have no attachment to me anymore? That’d make it easier, right?”

Her jaw clenched, but her eyes softened. She looked pained, like she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say, what she was supposed to do.

“If that’s the way you’re thinking, Tara, then this has to be over.” You bit your bottom lip, wishing that it would stop trembling, but you could do nothing for the tears that fell or the way your heart twisted painfully. “Because I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.” You shook your head. “And I—I can’t be with someone who treats me the way you have.”

Tara swallowed. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks, destroying her stony facade, and you watched as her fingers gripped the arm rests of her chair, her knuckles turning stark white.

“If I could—“ She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palms. “If things went back to the way they were before the attack, could we still be together?” Her voice was soft and careful, filled with hurt and pain and everything you never wanted to be the reason for. “Because I don’t—I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“Would you ever be able to trust me again?”

She glanced away, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know,” she admitted, words cracking beneath the weight they held.

You nodded, defeated. “A relationship without trust is hardly a relationship.” Her eyes flitted back to you, so much sorrow buried in them that you wished for once she wasn’t paying you any attention. “How am I supposed to be with someone who’s afraid that I’m going to end up attacking them one day?”

Her face fell, her body slumping back into her chair. The realization crashed down on her, just the same as it crashed down on you. This was it. This was the end.

You stood on still-shaking legs and gathered your things, your body trembling and your knees threatening to give out as you crossed the room, your hand resting on her doorknob.

You pulled the door open, hesitating for just a moment, hoping that she would say something, anything, to make you stay. But instead, all you heard was the smallest, softest,

“I’m sorry.”

You hung your head and whispered, “I am, too,” before walking out and shutting the door behind you, effectively ending everything that had existed between you and Tara.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #scream 5 #scream 6

[nobody-nexus]

Ragapom HCs I Have

(WARNING: There's a LOT of headcanons)

-Transfem Lesbian Pomni (Is On The Spectrum)

-Cisgender Bisexual Ragatha (Has ADHD)

-Pomni has a cat tail (This is to give other hcs context)

-Pomni loves hearing Ragatha play the cello

-Ragatha will always ask if it's okay if she can touch Pomni or not, but if they're in immediate danger there's no time to ask (she will ask if Pomni's okay and apologize AFTER the danger has passed)

-Pomni learned how to sew just to help out Ragatha (She's not great at it, but it's better than nothing)

-They both learned each other's favorite smells and they've asked for candles of that scent just to sit in their rooms and take it in

-Pomni's not the BIGGEST fan of her body but Ragatha makes sure she feels valid (if you misgender her, you die. There's no getting pass it)

-Ragatha hides her love of horses because she's embarrassed by it, but Pomni actually really like animals

-Pomni makes various animal noises when expressing emotions, mainly cat or even dog like noises- and Ragatha's memorized all of them

-Blanket cuddles ALL THE TIME- even if Pomni's okay with touch. Ragatha being one giant comforter for Pomni always makes her SO HAPPY

-Pomni has bells on her tail, which although was Caine's idea, it DID make it easier for Ragatha to know if Pomni's sneaking away for a late-night snack or not

-Pomni has a BIG love for dresses. Ragatha once made a dress for Pomni, who wears it every time they go on a date

-Jax was the first to find out about them dating by barging into their room while they were making out. Caine was the last to find out, but still thinks they're "gal pals"

-Whenever Ragatha's having a bad day, Pomni just likes to talk. Since she's not always up for physical comfort, she knows her voice soothes Ragatha

-Pomni swears a lot whilst Ragatha hardly does so

-Ragatha makes Pomni flustered CONSTANTLY, and she never even means to

-Pomni's stamina is nonexistent while Ragatha can run for hours without realizing it

-Ragatha can pick up Pomni like she's nothing

-Pomni is awful at coming up with cute nicknames for Ragatha, but Ragatha has a bunch. Her favorite one is 'sweetheart' for Pomni

-If the jester's feeling very protective, she'll bite Ragatha to show bite marks, showing that no one touches Ragatha but her (And the doll's beyond embarrassed about it)

-Pomni's flirting sucks, but Ragatha's reaction is THE most 30s thing you could imagine. Hands on sides of face, shaking her head a little, "Oh Pomni, QUIT IT! You're gonna make me blush!", blushing hard, giggling along the way

-If Pomni gets flustered enough, she gets a nosebleed like a cartoon character! Her blood is black in color

-Ragatha lets Pomni help in the kitchen by grabbing ingredients for her. That's about it

-Ragatha was shocked hearing Pomni talk in Spanish and Russian for the first times (AN: YES, I still think Pomni's Russian and Hispanic)

-When they kiss, it's VERY obvious. Ragatha wears red lipstick, and it gets all over Pomni's face, making her all red and flustered, but she loves it every time it happens

-No one has told Pomni her eyes turn into hearts when she's infatuated yet. Not even Jax (Mainly cause Ragatha won't ALLOW him to do so)

-Pomni thinks Ragatha looks hot holding knives.... Ragatha's a little bit of a klutz with knives in reality

-Unlike Ragatha, Pomni actually likes bugs. She usually handles centipedes if any are around

-Ragatha has a big sweet tooth which is why she bakes. Although it has lead to Ragatha accidentally getting high because Zooble made pot brownies... Multiple times

-Pomni is easy to anger whilst Ragatha has a long fuse, but can be easily bothered

-If Pomni gets too stressed out, her teeth get shark like. She can crush a damn BONE with them, and Ragatha helps out with those said bones (don't ask where she gets them from)

-Pomni likes playing horror games whilst Ragatha likes calmer games

-Ragatha loves FNaF and will ramble about it to Pomni

-Pomni likes to draw! Ragatha loves ALL the drawings she does

-They watch Disney movies in bed together :D

-Most of their dates get ruined because of Jax or Caine (Sometimes Bubble)

-Ragatha gets oddly competitive in multiplayer games, thus why they don't play many multiplayer games together

-Slow dancing is Ragatha's favorite romantic thing to do with Pomni

-They usually kiss when both are laying down because the height difference hurts Ragathas back hurt when they kiss whilst standing

-Pomni HATES being wet with her clothes on. Pomni has to be carried by the scruff of her outfit like a cat because she just COMPLETELY shuts down due to overstimulation of the wet clothes against her skin

-Ragatha hates her hands, but Pomni finds them interesting, and she likes to watch Ragatha use her hands for various things JUST to see how they work

-Caine almost gave them a child by overhearing something they said wrong, but thankfully the two were quick enough to stop him

WOW that's a LOT of hcs. And maybe I have more. Hope you like them!

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #digital circus #tadc #pomni #ragatha #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #pomni tadc #ragatha tadc #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #ragapom #digital yuri #doomed yuri #digital doomed yuri #headcannons #headcanon #my headcanons #ship headcanons

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

would you have any small writing tips to share with others who are attempting to write their own stories?

Sure.

Disclaimer: This is not a full on tutorial on how to write. These are just tiny, tiny little grains of wisdom of things I realized here and there. Do not eat this advice like a full course meal. It isn't one. It's just a dusting of some spices, and I am salt bae-ing them over you, but they are not calorically relevant without a story.

1. Help your readers read your story.

AKA: If you want your readers to build a house, you better take them to a Home Depot and teach them how to use a screwdriver first.

You want your readers to read your story easily? You gotta make your story easy to read. That means learning how to make sentences easier to understand. That means breaking up walls of text into smaller bites. That means - yes - spelling words consistently and using accessible (not Correct, necessarily, but ACCESSIBLE) grammar!

You want your readers to understand your world? You gotta give your readers tools to understand it with. That means explaining new concepts! That means describing stuff a lot! That means using visual language if you don't have actual visuals!

Your readers will not read your mind to know what you MEANT to say. You have to say what you mean. You have to mean what you write. Learn to write clearly. Learn to help your readers.

2. Something that takes you a month to make will take your audience ten minutes to read.

You want to spend an hour drawing one comic panel? Great. You wanna spend an hour writing a single paragraph? Fantastic. You wanna use up a week perfecting a script? Amazing!

Your readers will still glance at that panel for a second before moving on. Your readers will still eat that paragraph in a bite. Your readers will skim that script. If you're lucky.

You cannot control how much your work is appreciated. But you CAN control how much of your time you sacrifice to make it.

Balance the scales.

3. You are not talented.

Neither am I. Nor are any of us.

Listen to me. Listen.

Talent is a beautiful, useful word. But it often lies to us. It suggests that we are born better than others.

This is not often accurate. What talent hides within itself is not pre-ordained inherent skill. It is not something you are birthed being. It is not a statistical difference of physicality.

Talent starts with passion.

Maybe you have passion for stories - so you beg your grandfather to read to you before you can recognize words, and you write a lot in every school assignment, and you pay attention to EVERY story you watch in school plays, and you observe all the characters you see in movies, and you CARE. So. Much. And this moves you to try to write, and then to try again, and then to try harder.

Talent does not exist, because no amount of 'you were made for running' can make you run. No amount of 'you were the son of great authors' can make you write.

But inherent curiosity can push you forward. Inherent curiosity can make you watch, and observe, even before you understand you are observing. Inherent curiosity for your personal interests makes you a fan of writing, of drawing, of world-building. It makes you research how to be a great author before you even know what research is. It auto-tunes you to what you know is good about these things, and it gives you the necessary tools to know what will work and what won't.

So when you think you are talented, understand that this is not something that was done to you in the womb. It was something you raised, and watered like a seed, before you even knew what you were growing.

Don't rely on talent. Understand that you got this far because you CARE about this thing. And don't forget to care. Because that's what has carried you this far, and it is the only thing that can carry you even farther.

also, cringe is dead.

#chekhov answers