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hellyeahbakubby · 3 years

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“just a drawing” | sero h.

♔ - Running an NSFW art patreon, the reader has lost their motivation. Maybe Sero can help them find their inspiration, or be it. {wc: 1870} pairings - sero hanta x reader tags - SUGGESTIVE ONESHOT, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but be warned, fluffy bf sero, like I want boyfriend sero, pls, gimme a/n - thank you for requesting this, I had a really fun time writing it, and even though it took a while to put out I hope you enjoy it :) masterlist ▬ WARNING: SLIGHT NSFW, nothing explicit or graphic but proceed responsibly if you are under the age of 16.

For weeks now, your inspiration had abandoned you and your motivation extended to nothing more than staring at a blank screen. The hundreds of suggestions from your avid followers had begun to pile up and the hope you had of actually drawing something had been lost. None of the characters that usually stirred you to create were giving you any enthusiasm and you feared that you’d lost your spark for good.

“Hey,” Hanta greeted you as he entered the room, munching on his lunch, “Whatcha up to?”

Flicking around to face him, you instinctively flipped your tablet to your chest as if to hide the screen. “Just some drawing,” you replied as if you’d actually made any progress

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately, huh,” he said leaning again the doorframe, digging his fork back into his dish, “Working on something big?”

“Uh, not really, just drawing,” you lied, smiling up at him. He smiled back. You sighed, you were getting nowhere with your drawing. Sitting there, lying about your progress to your boyfriend was just dumb. “Except I haven't been able to draw for weeks. I’ve lost my mojo for good.”

He watched your shoulders slump at the admission and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to your cause. He knew just how much you admired creativity and to have lost your own would be weighing on you more than a bit. “I’m sure it won’t be forever, babe,” he said coming to sit in the chair beside you. Turning in his chair so his body was facing you, he placed a warm, reassuring hand on your knee. “Maybe instead of just sitting staring at your screen, we should go get you some inspiration. Yeah?”

You stared down at the device in your hands, the blank screen. Hanta went back to chewing. He watched your expression avidly. You were always so cute which only made seeing you so down worse. So used to your usually happy attitude around him, he wanted to fix whatever was bugging you.

Taking a deep breath in, “Yeah,” you said. He grinned.

“Nice. Why don’t we just go for a walk? And since I’ve got patrol tonight we can grab dinner after. Sound good?”

“Yup.” Even if you didn’t manage to find any inspiration you were grateful to be spending time with him. Since his schedule wasn’t exactly a typical 9 to 5 he was often working resulting in you being able to spend less time with him.

“I’ll finish my lunch then we can be off,” he said, “There’s a new park across the city that I saw last night. It’s beautiful, plus lots of flowers and stuff that might spark something.”

You smiled up at him. “Sounds good.” He was so considerate. You’d really lucked in with this one. And although you really needed to post on your patreon, maybe drawing something basic for yourself first would help get you back in that mindset. Leaving your tablet behind you went to get a drink before you left the house.

Hanta had been right. This park was beautiful. The grass was greener than you’d ever seen in person. The trees that edged the park created an atmosphere that separated the park from the outside world. It was its own little world. And the flowers. Hundreds of them. All different colours and types. The variety was astounding. You blinked a couple of times, making sure what you were seeing was real. It was captivating.

“Cool, huh?” he said with a cheeky smirk. Watching your expressions made him chuckle. He was secretly relieved that your mood had taken such a dramatic change.

“Real cool,” you said softly, nodding. You turned back to him and smiled. Throwing your arms around his neck you pulled him into a suffocating hug, kissed his cheek. He returned the hug with a laugh, wrapping his own arms around your waist in turn. Holding you in place after you loosened your grip he looked at you, thoroughly enjoying the spark of joy in your irises. “Thanks, babes,” you said.

“Anytime, doll,” he said before placing a kiss on your nose, “How about we go walk around and you can get some photos, eh?”

“Of course.”

Not a second after you’d taken his hand and begun to walk down the path when you heard someone call out from behind you. Both you and Hanta turned to look.

“Cellophane! Wait! Please!” A young woman ran towards the both of you, only slowing to halt right in front of you. She looked utterly exhausted, panting heavily.

“You’re… you’re my favourite Pro,” she managed to get out, standing up straight and looking up at Hanta with a look of admiration you’d never seen before. “Would you mind taking a photo with me?” she pleaded.

“Oh, sure,” he said with a smile, letting go of your hand to stand beside her as she pulled out her phone, “It’s nice to meet you.” She blinked at him in awe, her cheeks reddening.

“You too,” she squeaked out. Holding up the phone as he leaned in to get in the frame, she snapped a couple of photos.

You were oddly surprised by how you felt watching the interaction. It wasn’t jealousy or any sort of possessiveness. You knew that it was just an interaction between a fan and a hero so it wasn’t like she was gonna make any moves, or rather that he simply wasn’t interested. Instead, it was almost like a realisation. You were that lucky person, that lucky fan, who got to hold him, who got to be held by him. Your life was someone else’s fantasy, it was your own fantasy. There it was.

You knew exactly what you were going to draw to get your rhythm back.

“You good there?” Hanta asked returning to you as his fan walked away, every now and again turning back as if making sure he was real. “You look a bit zoned out.”

“Always,” you replied with full sincerity, squeezing his hand. His lips curled up at your response.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine, just thinking,” you said, taking his hand again.

“About me?” he joked.

As Hanta retrieved his hero costume, preparing himself for the night of hero work ahead, you returned to your drawing room, knowing exactly what the finished work was going to be. You were one hundred per cent assured that this would cure your art block and although you had no intention of posting it, you were both anxious and excited for the one person you’d show it to, to see it.

Peeping his head around the doorframe, he grinned at seeing you already back to work. He did feel responsible for your returning motivation and was delighted with his achievement.

“I’m off now, babe,” he said. You got up, placing a kiss to his cheek for good luck before pulling his face towards your own. Pressing your lips to his, you relaxed momentarily into his arms. He was so warm, all-encompassing. You felt so safe with him, so secure, so free of judgement. He was everything you’d ever wished for and so much more.

“Be careful,” you said, running a finger down his cheek.

“Whatever you say,” he gushed, leaning to kiss your forehead.

“See ya later, handsome.”

Walking him to the door, no sooner than he was gone you were back at your desk, sketching out the picture already finished in your head. You were almost surprised you’d never thought to draw something of this flavour before. God, just thinking about it made you flush. He was a well-known, well-desired Pro-hero; surely you weren’t the first person to concoct such a lewd creation of him. And well, it wasn’t like you were a stranger to him. You knew him up close and personal and you knew exactly what made him tick. You’d never post such a thing but you couldn’t think to draw anything else now that the idea was in your head. Not to mention you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he saw the finished product.

Stretching your muscles, you turned in your bed, waking slowly. Hanta wasn’t beside you despite having said he’d return at around four am but it didn’t worry you. He usually fell asleep on the couch, even after telling him countless that you didn’t mind him waking you when he came home. You made your way down the hall, careful to miss stepping on the floorboard that always groaned under your weight. If Hanta was indeed asleep on the couch you didn’t want to wake him. You knew how much hero work took out of him, especially if he’d had a busy night.

Creeping into your drawing room to continue working on your piece your heart plummeted to your stomach when you saw the empty space on your desk where you’d had your tablet last night. Come to think of it you didn’t remember going to bed which could only mean that Hanta had moved you to your bedroom after you’d fallen asleep midway through drawing. Oh god, that meant he had your tablet.

“Fuuuck,” you heard him drawl from behind you. Frowning you spun around.

“What?” you said before you saw your tablet in his hands and you felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“That’s my line right, babe?” he teased, tongue between his teeth, “At least that’s what I’m saying in this drawing, aren’t I?”

“I…” you couldn’t find any words.

“No, no. Your line’s ‘Oh please, god’ and then I think you’re meant to moan.”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s a really good drawing, just not what I expected.” He returned his gaze to the image in front of him. Although he was hiding it really well you noticed the pink tips of his ears.

“You… inspired me,” you said sheepishly.

“Clearly,” he said grinning again, “Just not in the way I thought I did.” You scowled at him.

“I just needed something to get my motivation back.”

He looked up. “Huh? Oh, I’m not complaining. I just didn’t know you drew this kinda stuff, makes sense why you hide your drawings from me. I mean bondage? Heh. Kinky.”

“Stoppp,” you begged, one hand on your face in embarrassment. You inhaled, trying to steady yourself. “It’s just a drawing,” you said defensively.

“Pretty sexy drawing though,” he mumbled. You looked up at him. His flushed cheeks said more than his words as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If I knew what you wanted I would’ve given you a different kinda inspiration.” He was definitely as nervous about the whole thing as you were. He placed the tablet on the pile of boxes by the door. “I mean I’m happy to help you out.”

“Really?” you replied softly, “That’s sweet of you.” You sent him a sly grin and he swallowed quickly. He reached out, grabbing you by the hips.

“‘Just a drawing’,” he said mocking what you’d said earlier, “You gonna show me your others.”

“Maybe later,” you said in his ear as he lifted you onto your desk,

“Right now I’m feeling the inspiration for something different.”

#sero hanta #sero x reader #sero smut #sero x you #sero bnha #sero mha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you #sero hanta x y/n #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader

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reeesea · 4 years

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Something Sweet: Part Two

~sweet lotus~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mentions of alcohol I guess...

words: 5k ish

summary: Jisung gets side tracked and ends up following Minho into a host club/bar. That's it really :)

a/n: I’m cross posting this on ao3 but don't know how links work so I hope you enjoy if you do happen to stumble upon this. <3

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Jisung’s been busy. Well, kind of.

Jisung, along with the other two sleep deprived zombies that make up 3racha, have once again barricaded themselves in their shared apartment. The trio has been working nonstop to prepare for their next performance. Their recently hired manager, Sana, had notified them that the venue that they were playing was actually twice as large as their last. The boys had been trying to flesh out a few new songs/covers to play and hopefully win over the crowd.

Busy wouldn’t really describe the boys. Yes, they were working hard producing more and more, but the lulls of writer’s block and exhaustion would set in eventually. Each time would leave them to fend for themselves by staring mindlessly at the ceiling, or collapsing into an unplanned 4 hour nap, or just plain gorging themselves on the various carry outs of the day.

Changbin, who surprisingly was able to work remotely for his producing job at JJP Ent., was juggling his work for them and his work for 3racha. Bin would sneak out of his studio/bedroom whenever the lull in creativity set in, or the anticipation of their Friday night show started creeping up on him. Almost every time this led to Chan or Jisung playing some of what they were working on and then the realization that the third rapper had joined them, neglecting his paid work, would set in commencing the throwing of shoes and a chorus of animated yells from all parties to arise. One way or another, always returning a reluctant Changbin back to his, as Jisung put it, “big boy work” and the other two back to their respective laptops and keyboards.

Chan was probably the most focused of the three. His ability to juggle multiple projects at the same time was practically god-like and occasionally left the other two producers completely clueless as to which project he was actually working on. When the exhaustion had finally caught up with him, Chan could be found by the other boys asleep sitting in front of his laptop. Changbin and Jisung had worked out a little system to keep the older in check, taking turns moving an unconscious Bang Chan to the couch and making sure he had eaten before returning to their own assignments. The leader would wake up a few hours later feeling confused, but thankful for the other two's efforts to keep him on his feet.

Jisung, the ever all-rounder of the group, usually was the one busy writing, composing, producing, and doing anything he could get his hands on. But this time, the main reason Jisung never quite felt busy was because no matter how hard he tried, sometimes he just couldn't quite find the words for his verses. The new addition to their set list actually didn't take much time to make, production wise, but writing his verse always turns out to be a challenge when the writer’s block sets in. Even with days straight of thinking about what he wanted to say on his part, no progress meant no work had been done, which to Jisung meant he had not been busy. It was a slippery slope that all of them had experienced before, but this time Jisung’s descent down that slope came in the form of trashing pages of lyrics and stanzas immediately after spending hours on them, and distracting himself in piles of blankets while scrolling forums, SNS, and internet videos for inspiration. From which the cycle continued. The concept of just freestyling it completely on Friday was starting to sound better and better.

Sana would occasionally come by (daily? None of them really knew what day it was, only that it wasn’t Friday yet), opening up the black-out curtains that lined the floor to ceiling windows of the apartment, always followed by at least one audible groan from one of the members. During one of the many occasions of Jisung staring blankly at the ceiling in the dark, Sana had entered the apartment and practically tripped over Jisung from where he was curled up on the floor in a blanket chimichanga, “Jisung-ssi, why are you on the floor, again. Its literally 3pm.”

Jisung liked to call them chimichangas, mostly because he really liked that it was a four syllable word, but it also described him best when he was in a blanket burrito feeling especially fried from exhaustion.

After tripping over Jisung for maybe the third time that week, Sana had left the apartment telling them to be sure to be ready for their performance tomorrow at five pm, when she would meet them at the venue. Although Jisung was the one currently rolled up on the floor, the other boys had somehow looked even more exhausted on the couch with emptied coffee cups in their hands and obvious dark circles under their eyes. They had finished in the early morning as always, trying their best to prepare for their performance, that apparently was tomorrow. That was news to Jisung, and still nothing written for his verse.

“You guys look so dead, how are you even awake right now” Jisung mused from his bundle on the floor.

“I honestly don't know. Do you think I could just go to sleep until our performance tomorrow?” Chan chuckled at the realization that their call time wasn't more than 17 hrs away.

“Honestly you need it, with how much you got done this week. You finished almost all the tracks for the album, right?” Changbin asked from his spot on the couch. Chan nods vaguely at the question .

“Yeah out of the songs we chose, I was able to brush them up, and fixed the beat on a few. We can look at them closer after Friday.”

“This week didn't seem real. The last thing I remember was dragging Chan’s unconscious body down the hallway after we got back from Menu 98.” Jisung was gesturing wildly beneath the blanket he was under, but the other two didn't have to even look at him to know he was being dramatic. “Bin-hyung it took you like 3 whole minutes to put the right key in the door. I'm glad your attempts with the bottle opener didn’t end up damaging the lock.”

That one earned Jisung a pillow to the face.

“Well hopefully this Friday we won't end up in the same condition. Wine hangovers are the fucking worst,” Changbin held his head in remembrance of the pain but a smile was starting to sneak out on to his face. “But guys, since we’re finally officially signed with a company, I wouldn't mind getting to celebrate again this weekend.”

His smile only grew as the other two joined in the grinning from their respective spots in the living room. It was true, they finally signed with a company. JJP Entertainment had reached out to them after having seen them perform one of their shows. Changbin had submitted a producer application to the company earlier that year, and seemingly as soon as they had seen the three in action all of them were accepted and got to sign with the agency. Changbin had begun working as a producer about a month ago while the other two had just recently been officially signed into the company as group members. To all of them it still seemed like it was too good to be true, but a week into it they were all just excited to be calling themselves recording artists and to have consistent pay for their professional work.

Their manager Sana was a result of the company beginning to help promote 3racha as a group. Chan had mentioned that they weren’t going to be officially announced as a part of the company until they could properly debut with their album. Jisung wasn't going to complain though, he was just happy to feel like the dreams they’ve had since their underground highschool rapper days were finally being realized.

All three of them, grinning wildly, were already feeling antsy to be on stage again. The hours until they could step onstage couldn't move fast enough.

---

Minho had a busy fucking week.

He had picked up two extra closing shifts that he usually would have days off on, but the reward of a bigger paycheck pulled his leg into accepting to take them. The bright side, he supposed, was that his coworker had taken his Friday shift and he was able to have a night off. His original plan to spend the entire night in the studio was pretty much shattered when his annoyingly loving roommates had scolded him when he had told them his plans. During morning rehearsal the group was able to get a lot done, and had polished their performance piece they had planned for a showcase in the coming week.

Minho told himself that he would have still stayed after practice if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s nagging to visit him at work that night, but he was packing his bag just as soon as the others once they were finished.The truth being that going to Hyunjin’s work almost always included free drinks and good company, and Minho felt like it would be the perfect way to relax his nerves after the week of productive practice, and painful working shifts.

Hyunjin worked at the host club and bar a couple streets away from their apartment. The establishment was mostly known for the beautiful and handsome hosts and hostesses that worked there who served up drinks and polite conversation. In the more recent years, the place was becoming popularly known as being just a normal service bar that just had beautiful servers and bartenders. Many tourists and locals came to the bar in hopes of seeing and meeting these beautiful people, while also obtaining their weekend quota of alcohol. Of course as Hyunjin could attest to the host club wasnt without clients, as his boss asked him multiple times if he wanted to switch positions from bartender to host due to all the patrons asking if he was available.

“Come on Hyung! You can come and meet my new coworkers. Also you promised to visit Momo-noona last time and she’s still pissed you haven’t been back in like a month. Honestly at this point she wont stop worrying that you aren’t coming back to see her, and keeps asking me like-”

“Okay, okay Hyunjin I’ll come with you, just stop rambling,” Minho giggled at the younger antics and his tendency to ramble to himself aloud, while in a conversation. It was reasons like this that made Minho glad the boy was only a bartender and not a host. Although, he would probably pay himself just to see the young 21-year-old try and make coherent conversation with a client. Hyunjin was beyond just beautiful, but when it came to conversing with strangers past their drink order, he was quite a bit less than suave.

Hyunjin cheered as he skipped out the studio doors, joining arms with Felix as they made their way toward their shared apartment.

---

Jisung left their flat early in hopes of being able to find the venue on his own, but still allow himself time to properly get lost. Surprisingly enough he was able to find the venue on the other side of town without much trouble and with Google Maps opened on his phone. One of the reasons why it was so easy to find, was that the venue was huge. Among the lavish entrance, and its multicolored lighting, it had a large marquee with “3racha” shown in bold as the night's act. It was still the early evening and the district’s businesses were just starting to show signs of preparation for the night's patrons and customers. There were food stalls setting up, readily pre-cooking the batches of street food for those who would be passing by throughout the night. Clubs were just beginning to open their doors and prepare for the crowd that always came to dance away the start of the weekend. The bars were beginning to gather their additional servers and bartenders, from the looks of the various uniformed strangers on the street entering their respective places of employment. There were a few barhopping adults and students littering the streets with excited chatter and giggles of anticipation.

Jisung can’t say he ever went out with friends much other than when the group would perform at bars and clubs right out of high school. He never had experienced the “wild night out with your friends” trope that he secretly loved watching in dramas and tv shows. There was just something watching a group of friends all going and enjoying a night together that made Jisung’s heart smile. Looking around again and escaping his thoughts, he spots a familiar face in the distance.

In front of him is his cute server from last week, Minho, walking down the street not even 50ft away. Granted Jisung had honestly forgotten about the man after that night, as the dull ache of a hangover had occupied his mind the morning after. Jisung never thought he would actually see the man again outside the confines of the restaurant that he worked at. And maybe because this coincidence felt more like fate, and maybe because Jisung is the kind of guy to believe in fate, or maybe because Minho had smiled and from 50 ft away it still took Jisung’s breath away, Jisung found himself stumbling forward to follow the man into the bar he had just entered.

---

Minho had walked into the familiar establishment and immediately went and found his place on a barstool.

“You didn't have to come this early.” Hyunjin was all dressed up in his collared shirt and vest, with his name tag reflecting the dim lights from above his heart. The completed uniform of all the bartenders and servers at Sweet Lotus, of course, made Hyunjin look even more like a prince than usual.

It was barely 15 minutes after the bar had opened for the night when Minho’s leather pants and silk shirt wearing ass had entered.

“Well, it's not like I had any other plans tonight. Felix had left for work and it was too lonely in the apartment to wait for the bar hopping crowd to pass through, so I thought I would just beat them instead.”

“I knew you missed me.” Hyunjin made a kissy face toward Minho that was met with a gentle face slap by the hand of the older.

“Please, I only came to get an early start on the night. Maybe try and beat the in house record for free drinks.”

“Oh please you already know you still hold the record, don't act cocky” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and earned a giggle from the other. There was a running competition between the off duty servers and hosts of who could get the most free drinks from strangers in a night. It was a vanity competition as much as it was a ploy for the employees to boost the bar's sales when off shift.

Minho thrived off of it, when he had worked as a host for the club. He had been in the highest demand on and off duty, gathering a total 19 drinks paid for by strangers within a single night. Even after Minho had left the club, his record still held. Hyunjin would sometimes come home updating Minho on how close some of his new coworkers had gotten to the record, well aware of how much the title inflated the man’s ego.

Before Minho had the chance to respond a tuft of brown hair tripped into the bar entrance. A familiar looking boy with big shining eyes, searched the room until making eye contact with Minho. The determined look in the boy’s eyes was completely contrasted by the soft smile starting to appear on his lips as he approached the bar.

Recognition flooded his memory as Minho looked back at the cute boy that had given him his number on a receipt the previous weekend. The boy struggled slightly at getting atop the stool next to Minho, earning him a slight snicker from the bartender as he watched the scenario play out in front of him. Hyunjin just watched his cocky ass roommate be made speechless by the entrance of a cute high school looking kid dressed in street clothes, there was no way he wasn't going to hound Minho when they got home.

“Hi.” The younger looking boy smiled again fully creating a heart with his lips, and Minho couldn't help but smile back. That seemed to only make the younger grin wider if that was possible and his eyes sparkled with content. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I met you last week, I mean kind of. You were my server on Friday night, and you recommended a drink and a dish for me, and I’m pretty sure it was the best thing I had ever tasted before. And now that may seem like a completely crazy reason to low key follow you into a bar after seeing you on the street, but for some reason I feel indebted to you for giving me the best thing I’ve ever tasted also I’m pretty sure I was embarrass-”

“Hi Jisung,” Minho didn't know anyone else could ramble even more than Hyunjin, but here he was, Han Jisung, the cute boy in the pink hoodie who had given him his number and a tip that was quite a bit more than his 20% usual. In full honestly Minho had found the receipt a few times during the week in his work pants pocket, but had always returned it before considering actually dialling the number scrawled on it.

“You don’t have to feel indebted to me, that’s all apart of my job…” A wave of guilt weighed on Minho as he made eye contact with Jisung again. “Also I apologize for never messaging you. I know you left me your number on Friday, and I usually don’t pay too much mind when customers give me their numbers, but for some reason I still kept yours.” Jisung’s eyes widened at that and his expression looked as if he had just realized something.

Minho just continued, “To be completely honest, I didn't think I would see you again, especially outside of my work.”

“I didn’t either,” Jisung quickly interjected. “And to also be totally honest, I completely forgot that I gave you my number. Tipsy me can be a little more bold than I thought.” He chuckled inwardly at himself. Looking at Minho now, Jisung had no idea how even tipsy he had found the balls to do something like that. In casual clothes, Minho looked god-like to Jisung, and something about the change in atmosphere made Customer Service Minho almost non-existent. Being able to look at Minho, his glittering sharp eyes, his perfectly styled hair, and breathtaking smile without any filters, and something about it made Jisung’s heart beat even louder. There was a slight pause as Jisung had stopped speaking and had got distracted with staring at all of Minho’s features. “Uh..um… anyway damn now I feel bad. Can I like buy you a drink or something to make up for it?” Jisung barely managed to stutter that out.

“Hey Min-hyung, that's your first for the night, and it's not even five yet. Damn maybe you will break your record,” Jisung looked over to the voice's owner and seemed to have just acknowledged the presence of the bartender after entering.

“Shut up Jinnie, I don’t wanna make him pay for my drink, the sun’s not even set”

“That hasn't stopped you before”

“No I really mean it, I'll pay for your drink if you'll let me. Not really sure what you two are discussing but I don't have a problem paying, even just to mend my consciousness” Jisung pleaded.

“You sure talk a lot with your wallet there, Han.” Hearing Minho using his last name to address him wasn't lost on Jisung. If anything Jisung was starting to take it as a challenge.

“Well, let me buy you a drink and we can talk now because we didn't get the chance over the phone.” Jisung really wasn’t sure where that confidence came from but it diminished quickly as he held his breath waiting for Minho to respond.

Minho smirked and nodded agreement, ordering his drink. “What about for you?” the bartender asked Jisung as he was taking out his card to pay for said drink.

“Oh nothing for me I have to get ready for a show soon,” squinting to read the man’s name tag “Hyunjin-ssi.”

Minho's curiosities from the previous weekends returned, and he found himself jumping on the opportunity to learn more about the boy. They were just curiosities. Han Jisung was just a curiosity. “What is it you do exactly?”

“Oh I’m a rapper in a group, with the two other guys you saw. Together were super cool rap trio 3racha~” Jisung put an emphasis on the name with excessive hand gestures. Minho thought they were cute. “And we're actually playing at the venue not too far from here. We’re on at 9 if you want to come watch.” Jisung smiles widely at that, cocking an eyebrow as if that was persuasion enough to get Minho to come.

It was. “Maybe I’ll stop by then. I can’t say I’m not curious.” Minho tries his best to feign disinterest, but his roommate’s smirk from across the bar meant that he wasn’t completely successful.

Minho glares at the bartender while Jisung continues the conversation. “So what was it that you were talking about? The record and all that, did I miss something?”

Hyunjin giggles at the question and puts on a dramatic voice, “Well, here at the Sweet Lotus even our employees will come on their off days and breaks to enjoy the bar and club as patrons, but of course flirting with coworkers is generally frowned upon, so we made up a fun little competition.” Hyunjin continues to explain what the casual competition entitles. Minho shifts to watching Jisung instead. Seeing the boy again had been somewhat of a shock, and now actually looking at him, something about Jisung made Minho’s heartbeat a little quicker. Probably just the beginning effects of the sip of alcohol he had yet to consume. Or it could be the way Minho kept thinking about how soft the boy looked, his cheeks, his hair, his smile. Jisung was cute. A cute curiosity

“So what’s the record then? The highest number of free drinks?” Jisung was asking both of them but had turned toward MInho to meet his eyes. They were full of stars, even when the rest of the place was dimly lit.

“19 drinks in a single night, held by our very own Lee Minho. Making him the hottest guy to ever grace our establishment, at least by the objective body count” Hyunjin dramatically bows to him.

“Hey I got 17 once” yelled the other bartender from further down the bar.

“I better keep coming back then, so you can’t take my spot San-ah.” Minho responded and sent him a cheeky smirk. The other bartender responded with a pouty face and a groan, before turning back to another customer. “But technically I’m not an employee anymore, so I think that takes me out of the running,” Minho continues.

“Still, I don’t think you’d ever lose that title… n-no offense to any of the other employees. I mean I only just got here and have only seen a few of you, but you are all respectively very attractive, and-”

“Jisung stop rambling.” Minho giggled at seeing how flustered he could make the other. “Plus I doubt I’d lose my spot if you have anything to do with it, Mr. rich boy rapstar.” Minho takes a sip of his drink as the other sputters once again into a bumbling mess, blushing even harder.

“What noooo! Not me pshhhhhh. I am but a lowly underground rapper. Please my heart’s too fragile to handle being called a rapstar by you this early in the night, also I swear I’m not a rich boy! Not yet at least, I haven't even gotten my first paycheck, paycheck, you know?”

“Your tipping habits say otherwise”

Jisung grumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘damn it drunk jisungie you did it again’

Before the conversation could continue, Jisung's phone rings from his jacket pocket. “Hello?... AH Sana-noona please don't yell.... Yes I know what time it is. It is-” Jisung checks the clock on his phone “Five-Thirty! Fuck, I’m on the way” Jisung looks apologetically at Minho and Hyunjin and does a few hand gestures that indicate he has to go. “I'll be there in like 30 seconds, I swear!!!”

Jisung hangs up and hops off his stool, “As you can see I am being forcefully summoned by my manager, I do hope you’ll come to the show later? Thanks for uh- I don’t know, why am I thanking you. But uh..Thanks anyway though, and I-uh hope we can do this again sometime… yeah, bye Minho.” Jisung smiles wide again and scurries out the door, almost at a full sprint.

Minho really likes his cute smile, and tries to commit the heart shape to memory.

“Hyung, he’s sooo your type it practically hurts.” Hyunjin forms a cheeky look on his face.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Minho retorts, taking another sip of the drink Jisung bought him.

“Come on, cute, low-key a mess, big eyes, whipped as soon as he saw you. Don't even lie, you love the ones that just fall for you as soon as you smile at them. Practically all your clients were like that, and they all followed you to the restaurant”

“That’s not true,” Minho denied.

“It's true our numbers dropped when you left. We had to hire three new guys to make up the loss,” San added, now suddenly a part of the conversation.

“Well now I feel bad,” he did kind of, but it also was a huge ego boost for Minho.

“Don't. You know Momo would let you pick up a shift if you ever needed” San now joining Hyunjin in leaning on the counter.

“Maybe I don’t know, I'll just boost her drink sales tonight insead to make up for it.” They laugh, and Minho’s cocky smirk returns as more patrons enter the bar, and the two bartenders return to their positions for the night

-----

Jisung sprinted right into hair and makeup, finding his group mates already being dressed and powdered when he got there. He was able to just barely avoid a scolding from Sana as he ducked into a changing room instead. Switching from his streetwear into something that made him look more like his stage personality ‘J.One’.

By the time it was up for them to perform all three of them shared knowing glances and charged on the stage as their loud and overpowering bass beats flooded the speakers and the entire venue. The venue itself held a couple hundred people and the cheers and energy from the crowd only fueled the rappers as they began their opening song. For the three of them being on stage was like getting a high.

Jisung felt like he had taken 3 shots at the bar before the performance. He felt drunk on the adrenaline and his ad libs and verses all came out even more powerful than usual. Chan and Changbin took his energetic aura in stride and fed off him to energize their own performances for the whole show.

When their new track finally starts playing, the verse that Jisung had been agonizing all week appeared in his head as if it had always been there, and he knew that this verse was going to go down as one of his best freestyles yet. Jisung closed out the song with an electric verse that flowed and hit the rhythm in ways he had never thought he could before, and after the last beat echoed throughout the room, the entire venue filled with cheers and screams from the audience.

Minho watched from the back of the venue witnessing the three boys on stage completely dominate the stage and steal every heart from the audience. He never thought that the big eyed clutz from a few hours ago would be the man he saw on stage. On stage, Jisung practically oozed with charisma, demanding the attention of all those who would listen. At the end of the show the last verse he spit out was so intensely captivating, that it guaranteed that everyone in the audience was now in love with Han Jisung. There was no way anyone would be able to deny it. Not even Minho, even though he would definitely try.

“I’m CB97” “This has been SpearB” “and I’ve been J.One”

“and together we are 3racha! See you next time”

---

That night as soon as Minho got home he searched his closet for the only connection he had with the supposed rapstar. Digging into the pockets of his work pants, he pulls out the paper with the boys number and immediately adds in to his contacts before texting him:

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

This is Lee Minho

I saw your performance

at least I think that was you

If it wasn't some rapstar named J.One may be your twin

Im sure hear you this all the time

But your performance was amazing. Good job Han :)

---

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz #skz fic #minsung #lee know #Lee Minho #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #3racha #kpop #this is a mess

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fmdjaewonarchive · 3 years

Text

► agree.

date(s): july 2020 - february 2021 mentions of: champion members, unity members (samsoo, yul & sunghee mentioned by name but like... blink and you’ll miss it) word count: +/- 2.3k words (870w lyrics/660 words composition/740 words production) warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks and car accidents details: full lyrics and full composition verification for agree, 3/3 verifications for jaewon’s upcoming album escapism. jaewon doesn’t only know how to write sad boi music, he also writes angry boi music, the only two emotions he’s ever experienced rlly. (a/n: i lost my braincells within the first 100 words and still haven’t retrieved them, read at your own discretion)

the song is born out of frustration, anger blocking up his throat to the point it feels hard to breathe.

it’s the kick-off point of champion’s world tour, a concept that has jaewon disgruntled enough as it is, snatching him away from unity and dropping him in the states like he is supposed to care about this group, like he doesn’t have better things to worry about.

but alas that’s beside his point, as much as he detests the idea behind champion, it’s not his main source of frustration.

traveling out to the states, that part is hell. now jaewon has never been a huge fan of traveling, suffering from a crippling fear of flying ever since predebut that somehow has not gotten any less severe with the sheer amount of flying all over the place unity has been doing. jaewon also absolutely hates airports, they’re too crowded, too hectic and far too stressful to not immediately put him in a godawful mood.

the cameras shoved right into his face both prior to departure and directly after arrival definitely didn't help.

comparatively, champion’s trip to the states this time hadn’t been that bad. jaewon just happens to be in an extra foul mood today but rationally, he has to admit that he’s seen far worse throughout the years.

but maybe that’s exactly the problem, how common these things have become, that getting pushed and pulled at while trying to get on flight was considered to be mild.

jaewon’s frustration isn’t solely aimed at an isolated instance, it’s at the ridiculous standard that’s been set for idols, the things they have to accept like they are normal.

normally he would call soo to complain about whatever was bothering him but with the time difference, jaewon knew his boyfriend was ought to be asleep at this hour and he definitely wasn’t waking him up for something this minor.

he even humors the thought of perhaps finding sunghee or yul to complain to but with most of champion out for the night doing whatever (admittedly, jaewon didn’t listen when they were making plans, he wasn’t gonna tag along anyway) that isn’t really in the cards either. perhaps that’s for the best, jaewon isn’t the biggest fan of actually talking to the younger unity members about what was on his mind.

either way, jaewon is stuck in a hotelroom by himself, no one around to really vent his frustration too so instead, he might just as well write it all down.

and that’s exactly what he does, settling down at the desk in his hotelroom, scribbling on a notepad randomly found laying around.

on the plane the person in the seat next to me that’s not my fan apparently buying info off the airplane company

it’s not entirely relevant to what happened at the airport earlier but jaewon feels angry all over just thinking about it. unity has had it’s fair share of experiences with saesangs, seemingly only increasing the more popular they keep getting. sure, that makes sense but it doesn’t mean it’s okay, contrary to what dimensions seem to believe with how easily the company brushes it off under the pretense of it just being another part of the job.

at the airplane lounge there’s a war between the 200 mm guns privacy, panic disorder, they barter with one another...

in the first place, jaewon’s main concern is unity, it always is. he’s willing to put up with a lot if it means the younger members are left off the hook. but he has to admit, since the panic attacks have started to become more prevalent, it’s a lot harder to take that stance. it’s hard to take care of others when he fails to take care of himself.

jaewon tries not to think about what that means for his position as a leader.

from early morning put on a mask and fight on in short, call it being a puppet...

jaewon knows he’s not an ideal idol, he’s never been and he never will be. maybe in retrospect, he would have done things differently but there is no use in considering those what-ifs now. there is, however, no denying that all of it is just a bigger struggle with him, it will never go as easily as with people who were made to stand in front of the camera’s. why shouldn’t he get to be open and honest about that? he’s not the perfect idol they want him to be, he will never fit that mold.

i know, that’s right that’s right that’s right that’s right that’s right that’s right i know that’s right that’s right that’s right

written out, the chorus feels a bit silly, but jaewon feels justified in his creative choices. not that the song is ever going to be used for anything, it’s just an attest to his frustration. jaewon knows he’s ought to sit down and silently accept whatever is expected of him.

it’s been years since he’s been his own person. these days, he’s dimensions’ property first and that of the general public second, there is no use in fighting that, no space for his voice.

so sure, whatever, he agrees, what else can he do?

---------------

jaewon forgets about the lyrics he’s written down after that.

in the moment there had been no intention to turn them into a full-fledged song, a haphazard combination of lyrics that in their raw form, probably held very little meaning, too much filler between the few parts that he did properly think through.

so jaewon forgets all about it before he even sets foot back in korea again. unity is busy enough, the release of neo zone lurking around the corner and with multiple schedules of his own, jaewon can’t even think about the song if he wants to.

it only comes drifting back into his consciousness at least a month of two having passed since champion’s american tour dates.

the day in itself isn’t anything special, if there is anything remarkable about it it’s the fact jaewon isn’t working for once. he’s just hanging around his and samsoo’s apartment, scrolling through whatever app on his phone keeps his attention for long enough.

until an article pops up.

it’s a news post about a rookie group he’s never heard of from a company he doesn’t know the name of, it has nothing to do with him, but he finds himself reading through it anyway. apparently, they got into an accident on their way home from schedules as they were being followed by saesangs. no one got injured and truly, it’s not the first time jaewon has read news like this but it does fill him with the same sense of anger as what he had experienced that first day in the states with champion.

because this type of news shouldn’t be common, for how long are people gonna pretend it is?

maybe he should finish that damn song.

wait does he even still have the lyrics?

jaewon vaguely remembers at the very least putting the sheet of paper in his backpack after the concert as he had been packing up to move to the next city of their tour but after that, he can’t say he recalls having seen it lay around.

he’s really ought to get more orderly with his drafts.

luckily for him, jaewon does find the sheet of paper, not in his bag but shoved in between the pages of a notebook and with the draft of his lyrics obtained he makes a beeline for his home studio. normally he’d do this stuff at the company headquarters but truly, that sounds like far too much work in the moment.

obviously, the song is meant to have an angry undertone to it, supposed to convey the same anger and frustration that swallowed jaewon whole as he had written the lyrics.

the deep, resonating boom of low brass sounds for the opening of the song are a no brainer, the sound gives a bombastic, ominous vibe, immediately setting the song off on the right note. it’s supposed to sound grande and honestly a little bit intimidating, a dark feeling creeping around the corners.

of course, the sound is far too theatrical to be underlaying to the entire song so jaewon alternates it with a deep, booming bassline, the brass only reappearing right before the chorus other than in the opening section as if to give off a warning. to fill up the verses and the parts in between, jaewon adds rumbling, deep drums in the background, making them feel less empty.

what really makes the song however is the rapidly-cycling electronic stuttering a rhythmic pattern across almost all parts of the song. it feels a little distracting at first before jaewon decides that really, that’s exactly what he’s going for. the melody feels just a little too fast, uncomfortably so and in a song reflecting so much stress and strain, that only feels fair, reflectives of the way his chest tightens up when he can’t breathe, when his hands tremble and his heart beats so fast it might as well make him sick.

jaewon thinks it conveys his frustrations pretty damn well.

---------------

it doesn’t seem in the books for the song to ever be released until the process of selecting songs for escapism comes along. while jaewon regains some of his creative freedom, most of it had been under dimensions terms, leaving it up to them to shape the album in a way they prefer over his creative vision.

until somewhere near the end of completing the track list, the head producer asks jaewon if he has any songs laying around that could fit in with the rest of the album.

‘agree’ is the first thing to come to mind.

the head producer seems to like the songs, enough to approve it at least and jaewon can’t help but feel a flare of pride. the producer seems intent on leaving the creative process in his hands, letting him handle the production.

it makes ‘agree’ the first song ever that’s entirely his own that he gets to release, it feels like a milestone to jaewon.

he does get a little list of suggestions, mainly pertaining to the lyrics. the producer leaves a few remarks here and there about where lines could be stronger, what he would do differently but all of it are very loose recommendations, jaewon isn’t actually under an obligation to do anything with them.

in the end, he does anyway, shuffles some lyrics around, dares to be a bit more assertive in his wording, right onto the border of what he would consider too gloat-y for himself. but the producer is right, it gets to pack a punch, it gets to be a little bit self-important. somehow having the external confirmation makes it easier to write those lyrics without feeling like a fraud. it’s still his, his writing, his song.

with the last tweaks done they’re quick to get to recording. they’re still on a time crunch as jaewon’s manager reminds him (jaewon likes the man well enough but dear lord would he never let him forget). it's one of the last songs on the album to be recorded after all and at this point, they are cutting it close.

with everything else he needs done, all jaewon has left to do is fine tune the song, the last tweaks and sounds to be added like missing puzzle pieces now he has the bigger picture pretty much laid out in front of him, polishing and detailing it to elevate the song worth of something to be released on an album.

the instrumental is already pretty hectic, fully intentional of course, but with a proper, clear recording it’s easier to spot the empty gaps, spaces to add the last finishing touches. he adds more brass, less grande and dramatic than the ones in the pre-chorus, curling around the edges of the chorus to round them up neatly and as if to scale down again for the verses, still fast paced but somewhat a breath of fresh air between one chorus and the other.

he delays the part at the opening before the brass and bass kick in, a silence before the storm feels even if the hyperactive stuttering beat is already there, he considers taking that out at first too but the point kind of is that it is more or less omnipresent, it’s always there even when there is nothing else much, like the anxiety that feels permanently stuck to his head.

there is also the addition of an extra melodic line, lingering behind that main, slightly headache inducing electronic synth. it doesn’t really stand out, especially not compared to it’s main competitor but it does remain prevalent in the few parts the main instrumental motif is nowhere to be found, giving it small moments to shine. it serves a clear function, or to jaewon listening ear at least (maybe he’s overanalyzing at this point). the little bounces of the electronic beat all over the place keep up the pace of the song, making sure its explosive nature prevails over the dark dreary undertones of the bassline and brass sections, giving it an overall dynamic feel.

it takes some fiddling, jaewon pulls something close to an all-nighter to finish up the song with the sheer amount of detail he ends up focussing on but by the time he sends it in, he has a good feeling about it at least.

when he presents the final product to the head producer, there are no more suggestions. it’s good, and it’s all his own work.

#fmdverification #*:･ﾟ♛– «filled with all these empty moments» // solos.#«escapism // era.»#//SCREAMS INTO THE VOID #//finally... im freed from verification hell #panic attack tw #anxiety tw #car crash tw

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deepsixsquid · 5 years

Photo

Friday the 13th my have passed But I have too much Creative energy and a new squid So I might as well go for it anyway~!!!

“TIME’S UP!” Judd and Lil’ Judd step up to decide the winners of the latest turf war battle that just went down on Camp Triggerfish. While most of the combatants wait with bated breath, Nocchan is already kicking the dust off her shoulders, confident of her victory. However, while preparing for a bit of post-match boasting, something catches her eye, something in the woods, mostly obscured by the tall trees...something’s...looking at her? “.......ey” “H....y” “HEY!” One of Nocchan’s teammates taps on her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance like state. “Hey! We won! C’mon, we’re all heading to the camp site for a bit, you comin’?” Nocchan turns back to the woods for a second, only to see that, whatever was there, has left. Maybe she took one too many burst bombs to the face? Shrugging it off, she rests her inkbrush on her shoulder and starts walking off the battlefield with the rest of her team Hours pass and the sun has set, both teams gather around a campfire to talk about the matches they’ve had, rivals they’ve made, their favorite weapons, and many fond memories. Once the moon rises, the stories take a slight turn~ “Heheh, so, you guys hear about the woods around here?” “Aw, c’mon man, not that again...” “Oh please, everyone knows that’s just a story. You see that stuff all the time in the museum!” “Yeah...heheheh...ju-just stories!” “What’s the matter? Ya not scaaaaared, are ya?” Nocchan can’t help but chuckle at everyone’s banter “Pft, it can’t be that bad~ Go for it, what’s back there~?” The camp gathering goes silent, aside from the story teller A mischievous smile creeps across an octoling girl’s face “Ooookaaaaaaay~” She grabs a flashlight for dramatic effect and clears her throat “So, they say people have heard things in these woods in the middle of the night, and people have gone in there to see what it is~ They vanish for days, and have been found, knocked out, with no memory of what happened. The only thing they DO remember is a mask, and the sound of someone screaming. People thing that something, or someONE lives in these woods and, if you run into them, you don’t have much time left before they catch you! It’s been a very long time since someone’s gone in there alone but, if you’re lucky....or UNLUCKY, enough to see that THING, you might be the next victim~! It could be me! or you! or even...........” the story teller points the flashlight at Nocchan with a stylish flare “YOU!”

The skull faced squid can’t help but cover her eyes and let out a, overly sarcastic “scream” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA~ Heheh, that’s cute~! Some weirdo? Living HERE? I’ll believe it when I see it!”

With a smirk, the story teller looks at the rest of the group “Well then, how ‘bout you go in there? unless you’re...scaaaaaared~!”

Wasting no time, Nocchan snatches her brush and makes her way towards the woods with a slight skip in her step. Much to the sudden shock and protest of everyone else, including the story teller “W-WAIT!!” “I WASN’T SERIOUS!! COME BACK!!” “IS SHE CRAZY?? “DUDE, SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!” “I AIN’T GOIN’ IN THERE!!” “UMM, WHAT DO WE DO??” “FISH IF I KNOW!!”

With one last salute, Nocchan heads off into the woods, chuckling and scoffing at the story she heard and the slight panic she left behind “Heheh, please, someone living out here, you gotta kidding me~ What kind of lunatic would live out here~?” With each passing minute, the woods grow darker and darker, each step she takes, leaves and branches crumple beneath her feet, but Nocchan keeps her pace, keeping an eye out for “whatever” may be lurking. However...something manages to stop the confident squid in her tracks... “H...he......help...me” Followed by a faint thud, not too far ahead “P...please...someone....ple...please....”

Wasting no time, Nocchan rushes forward, trying to find the source of the voice, with only the rare beam of faint moonlight to show her the way. Breaking into a full speed run, she quickly closes in on the weak cries for help and finds, slumped against a tree, struggling to stand, a wounded inkling boy, who only points back, further into the woods “She’s......she’s coming....don’t let her...catch you”

As Nocchan tries to help the injured squid to his feet, his eyes meet here and for an instant, a cold chill runs down her back as his eyes...are solid white “B e f o r e i t ‘ s t o o l a t e.....”

Nocchan jumps back as the ghostly squid stands and limps away, whispering and muttering under its breath... “The @#$% was that thing?!? EY! GET BACK HERE I WASN’T DO-”

As in response to her call, the leaves and branches crumble and snap beneath the heels of something slowly walking towards her..

Gripping her inkbrush tightly, Nocchan does her best to keep herself calm as the approaching sounds grow louder and louder. Trying to guess where this thing will come from, here eyes dart back and forth, looking for anyone...anything...that might be out there.

For a second, the sounds stop, giving way to an ominous silence A silence that’s only broken by the sound of someone breathing heavily, just a few steps behind her...

Before turning to face this mysterious entity, Nocchan clenches her teeth for a minute to snap herself out of it. If this thing IS real, she’s not afraid of it, she can’t be, she’s faced things worse than something out in the woods... “Heh...So, there really is some freakshow out here after all...You got a name? Or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

....Her boldness, having been met with nothing, causes her to turn around “Well? We doin’ this or-” Only to find that, whatever was there before, has vanished “...what?”

A sudden crash echoes through the woods, the sound of tress being broken surrounds her and, flying just passed her head, a large, crimson, ultra stamp slams into the ground behind her, kicking up dust and debris.

Through the dark cloud, Nocchan can just barely see, and dodge, the shape and swing of an octobrush as the figure reveals itself. Standing before her, clutching a worn down kensa octobrush, an inkling girl in a hockey mask, a torn leather jacket, and shoes stained with ink an various colors.

“...Oh, you gotta be kidding me...the hell are you supposed to be?”

Underneath the mask, the silent squid’s eyes glow a dull, dark, pink She lifts her brush high above her head and brings it down with monstrous force, causing the skull-faced squid to kneel when she blocks the strike with her inkbrush “Cutting...straight to the chase, eh?....I can respect that...FINE!”

Pushing back and rolling to the side, Nocchan swings her brush and connects with her opponents mask. The silent one doesn’t even so much as flinch before retaliating with a swing hard enough to send Nocchan crashing into a broken tree, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

As she struggles to catch her breath, the masked squid walks over, brush held high, ready to deal a decisive blow, until Nocchan slips a splat bomb right behind her opponent, the blast is just enough to give her some time to roll away and use the backside of the tree she slammed into as cover.

Steadying her breathing and rising to her feet, thoughts swirl in Nocchan’s mind “Okay, whatever this thing is, it can take a hit....how am I gonna beat it? Like Hell running’s an option, if this thing is out there, along with those stories, I gotta do somethin’ before someone else bumps into it...But, how? C’mon, I’ve fought worse than this!!”

“DAMMIT! C’MON!!” Darting from her cover, Nocchan rushes her silent opponent and unleashes a series of swings. Though each blow connects, none of them seem to have any effect as that same dark pink glow creeps from underneath the mask once more.

Ink begins to drip down from the sleeve of the masked squids leather jacket and slowly collects and forms a ball in the palm of her hand. With one swift move, she crushes it, molds it and shapes it into another red ultra stamp, right before Nocchan’s eyes.

Before she can truly grasp what just happened, a brutal swing sends Nocchan flying into the distance breaking through multiple dead trees before she lands and slides along the ground, with only a large stone to stop her. Barely holding on to her consciousness, Nocchan can only watch as this mystery squid creeps closer, brush and stamp in both hands.

“Get....up” “C’mon.....” “...I can’t move” “...I can’t move” “I CAN’T MOVE” “C’MON, NOT LIKE THIS” “MOVE, DAMMIT!!” Nocchan’s mind races as her opponent closes in, eyes glowing with the intent to end things. Her fingers twitch, through frustration, fear, or sheer force of will, she manages to gather the strength to hold one more splat bomb.

“I need to move, this better do something” Summoning every ounce of strength she can muster, she manages to crush the bomb, the shock sending her off to the side far enough to save her from one last stamp swing that obliterates the stone she was leaning against.

Crawling towards her inkbrush, Nocchan grits her teeth, not looking back at the figure skulking after her. With one last, desperate reach, Nocchan snatches her brush, just in time for the masked horror to grab and lift her up by the head.

Bringing her up close, the mystery squid simply looks at Nocchan and tilts her head while she weakly struggles to free herself.

“You....you better drop me...right now...if you know what’s...good for ya...” Nocchan coughs and protests

With Nocchan in hand, the horror squid starts walking further into the woods, towards the faint sound of...something bubbling

In a small clearing, with only the light of the full moon, a small, decrepit, hut stands, with a dock that leads into a pond of dark, tar-like, ink. Bubbles occasionally rise from it, drift above a low hanging mist, and pop, releasing a foul, rotten, odor.

Nocchan, being held high by this monster of an inkling, can only watch as she’s being walked towards the dock... “No....Hell no, you must be @#$%$%^& crazy!!”

”MOTHERFU-...DROP IT!!!” In her flailing to free herself, Nocchan pulls a one last desperate move, taking the handle of her brush, and smashing her opponent in the face.

Much to her surprise, not only was it enough to free herself, the strike actually got the monster to flinch, just enough for Nocchan to figure out a way to fight back and tackle the masked squid, leading them away from the dock.

In a frustrated flurry, Nocchan continues to fight back Swinging as fast and as hard as she can with all the strength she can muster, pushing her opponent further and further back. Sparks of energy begin to dance in her eyes as fear gives way to rage, much like how the eyes of her opponent glow in response as the masked squid calls forth another stamp.

The sound of the massive weapon swinging through the air rings through the umbral woods, but the attack is interrupted, cut short by Nocchan blocking it with just her hand. Her eyes glow bright as she knocks it aside and, with a quick spin, delivers a furious attack that manages to knock the masked squid off her feet. Without a second thought, Nocchan leaps forward, clenches her fist, and unleashes a splashdown strong enough to cause a few nearby trees to topple over.

For a minute, everything’s still... Nocchan catches her breath as her opponent doesn’t move... Looking back towards the hut and the pond, Nocchan carries the masked squid towards the dock and tosses her into the pond of bubbling ink. She watches as she slowly sinks below the surface, the bubbles cease, the mist clears. the area feels...peaceful, in an uneasy sense.

“I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on around here...or what the hell you are...but do me a favor...just stay down and stay HERE”

With next to no energy left, Nocchan wonders into the hut to find a place to sit down and rest. The inside’s almost completely covered in dust, saved for a corner, full of weapons that have been worn down or broken, and a table, with three chairs, and a small pile of photos.

While she takes a seat and rests, Nocchan takes a quick glance at the old photos...two squid kids, and an adult who’s face has been worn down to the point no one can recognize them. For such a dreary place...they look...happy. The last one is of them on the edge of Inkopolis, looking out into the water, holding brand new weapons up high...

“...What happened here?” Staring at the last photo, Nocchan pockets it and leaves the rest of them on the table before walking out the doorway. She takes one last look at the hut, the dock, the bubbling pit and sighs...

It’s going to be a long walk back to camp, and an even longer story of what she saw in these woods...

However.....something stirs in the pond Bubbles begin to float and pop A hand emerges from the depths and drags the rest of its body on shore...along with a trashed octobrush...

And the sound of crumpled leaves and snapping branches can be heard slowly approaching camp triggerfish..and Inkopolis...

#Nocturne Shenanigans #It's campy~! It's cheesy horror~!#IT'S NOCCHAN VS 'JASON'#Or Jaye...or Jayden....#Still working on a name for her~#Queuebey

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crimsonbluemoon · 5 years

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BBS Anon Tumblr AUs

Okay, so I got a little creative last night because I had this cute idea, but then it splintered into a TON of ideas and I honestly just don’t have time to write them all, so I figured what I could do is give you all of the headcanons that I have for the couples in order to help flush the idea out of my mind. So please, enjoy these silly headcanons, and let me know what you think!! <3

AU PREMISE FOR ALL STORIES: One boy loves/likes/hates/has some feelings toward the other boy, so they make an anon Tumblr and send them an ask that leads to them talking.

Also the boys are all in college. Cause yeah...>.>

H2O Vanoss: Evan is a popular music blog “Vanoss”, Jonathan is the shy follower who sends in an unusually sweet message on New Years Eve as his New Years resolution (Luke challenges him to do something he’s wanted to do forever, and Jonathan tell him he’s going to confess to his crush but won’t tell him who it is). Jonathan has been friends with Evan for five years, and in love with Evan for two years after hearing him perform a self-written song during a charity event for the school. He intended for this to be his only ask, so he kind put a lot of feelings into it and wrote it as a submission (as Tumblr only allows 500 characters). Also, randomly reblogs a cute picture of Evan fanart. After this he goes to sleep, he wakes up to a bunch of alerts saying that “Vanoss” will be doing a surprise performance that afternoon in the school common area. Jonathan goes, wanting to see his performance (as he’s gone to all of them, being Evan’s “Good luck charm”) and hangs in the back while texting Evan a stupid good luck thing. He kinda gets surprised Evan speaks to the crowd (as he never does), and he’s kinda obviously nervous but in THE cutest way possible. Jonathan is kinda smitten by this before Evan says ‘this goes out to someone who kind of made my night, and uh… I hope they’re here listening to this. Thanks for the letter, Delirious.’ Jonathan is like ‘...WHAT’ in his head and Evan sings this really sweet/cute song. Everyone loves it, and it’s obvious that people are snapchatting it and taping it, all with the same question: Who is Delirious?! After the song, Evan gives a little smile and is like ‘If you’re here, lemme know if you like it or something, Del.’ Cue Del kinda panicking and first thought is ‘must deactivate the tumblr and get rid of all of the evidence’ but as he’s going on his tumblr, but when he goes home, he’s got +99 notifications, all of them tagging him in the video and being like ‘Respond!’ He also gets like 200 more followers (“I DON’T EVEN USE THIS BLOG”) and people sending him asks about who he is. He does kinda make a post about himself saying he goes to the school (as some people were calling him a creep/saying he’s not real) but he can’t say who he is. Cue the craziness that is Jonathan being Evan’s friend and “trying to help him” find out who Delirious is, all while trying to keep his own feelings hidden because he’s re-falling in love with Evan through their chats on Tumblr.

Okay, this one is 99% going to be written. >.> I love it too much not to.

OhmToonz: “Ohmwrecker” is a Tumblr writer, who has gotten popularity for a web-book he is doing. Luke is a friend of Ryan’s and one of the only people who knows he is the Ohmwrecker. During a moment of writer’s block, Ryan asks for people to send him motivation asks to get him back on track. Luke, bored and feelin’ some kind of way because his best friend is too busy writing his story to pay attention to him, sends a flirty anon to get Ryan to blush and then log off of Tumblr. Ryan, however, gets a little bit of courage, and ends up flirting back with ‘ Toonzy’ as the anon has labeled himself. Luke is kinda impressed with his friend, and starts sending stupid one-liners and little flirty messages that imply that he actually knows Ryan, not just ‘Ohmwrecker’. This is kinda risky for Ryan, who has kept his identity a secret from the other kids on campus. But Ryan is really into this guy, who shifts onto messenger as ‘Cartoonz’ and maybe there’s a lot of sexual stuff that happens. >.> But as they kinda heat up, Luke slips that Ryan knows him, too, and now Ryan is like ‘wait, what?? We’re friends?!’ except Luke doesn’t remember telling Ryan this because he’s drunk. Now, Ryan is trying to figure out who Cartoonz is without letting Cartoonz know that he knows that Cartoonz knows him. It’s a hot mess.

TerrorMoo: Brian is a Tumblr artist, and Brock has been sending him anon messages for a while about his art. The two of them are cordial, living in the same dormintory, and bumping into each other late at night in the community room (Brock stays up late to finish papers and Brian says he draws best at 2am). Finally one day, Brock bites the bullet and makes a tumblr, wherein one night he reblogs all of Brian’s art and leaves really sweet tags on each one. Brock also does little analysis for each one, as Brian had earlier talked about possibly stopping his career in art in order to pursue a ‘more stable job’. This ends up getting a lot of activity regarding Brian’s work, and Brian takes notice of the like, 30 reblogs/comments “Moo-Snuckle” left on his work. Brian now is on the hunt to figure out who this mystery man is, and Brock is desperate to hide the truth, thinking that Brian will realize that he’s in love with him. Also can’t stop commenting/reblogging each of Brian’s new pictures, because Brian has openly said that ‘Moo’ is inspiring him to keep going with his art. Gay-os ensues.

MiniCat: Tyler doesn’t like Mini (a semi popular movie critic Tumblr) and so he sends him an anon message (was going to send hate, but Brian tells him to send a ‘love ask’ to pull a prank on him) and Tyler kinda expects a pompous answer or him kinda gloating about people sending him love. Instead, he’s surprised when Mini is really humbled, and starts to ask questions about him, as he would like to ‘get to know the person who was stupid enough to fall for him’. Tyler’s kinda stuck now, and he sorta grumbles out a ‘you’re not that stupid’ and hence them kinda talking through asks. Then Mini boldly tells him to send him a private message to him because he wants to get to know him better. Tyler, in a panic, creates ‘I-Am-Wildcat’ and reblogs a bunch of random shit to make it look like he had a blog all along. Accidentally shares some nsfw stuff, including gay boys, and Mini is like ‘oh wow, you’re really proactive about gay rights and stuff, that’s really cool’. Tyler is actually really sorta closeted atm, so he’s like ‘....fuck’. But hey, he’s anon, so it won’t REALLY hurt, right? And it’s through kinda talking to Mini that he starts to become okay with himself, and then comes the problem; how does he tell Mini that he’s falling for him when 1) Mini doesn’t know he’s gay irl and 2) The whole thing was a joke from the beginning? (not anymore lmao)

Krii7y: Smiity had just ended a relationship and was kinda feeling like shit about it. Put a post up saying ‘Should I even keep my tumblr? It’s not like anyone would care’. Smiity ends up getting an anon saying ‘I care, you fuck.’ Smiity, feeling a little self-deprecating, starts a conversation with ‘Kryoz’ about how he’s wrong, and if he did disappear, it wasn’t like this guy actually knows him. And when the guy is like ‘I do’ and Smiity is like ‘prove it’, the guy sends a anon with Smiity’s real name. And now Smiity’s like ‘wait wtf how do you know me? Who are you?’ and Kryoz is like ‘figure it out, bitch’. And this whole story is like, Smiity trying to figure out who this person is, while Kryoz gives him clues as well as flirts kinda (in their weird way) and Smiity is so focused on this new person and figuring it out that he kinda slips out of his depression about his ex and falls for this new quirky man.

So yeah, these are my silly AUs for these weirdos involving Tumblr asks. I don’t know, I just...my brain is too full of stuff. Just had to get these out. Let me know what you think.

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therealbereth · 5 years

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Writing with Depression

All right, so. I debated whether or not to write a post like this since it's pretty personal and I'm not too used to blogging anymore. But if it helps even one person? Hell, why not.

Writing with depression can be hell. If you ever had writer's block because of your brain telling you it's not worth it anyway, or because of anxiety telling you that you're gonna fail no matter what you do, you know how hard it can be to overcome any negative feelings regarding your writing – especially when everything you do is so closely linked to who you are as a person. Your brain just tells you it's the same, and when you "fail"? You are a failure of a human being.

That’s not true, of course. Depression, anxiety, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (especially when you have ADHD), they're all liars. And I can tell you: it gets better. So infinitely better.

But first it gets worse, and we have to endure.

When I first started writing ten years or so ago, I simply needed it. It was my outlet and my refuge from a world that overwhelmed me after one of my dreams – becoming an actress – was crushed. That was long before the depression that was creeping up on me really took the wind out of my sails. I didn't manage to focus on my studies. I didn't maintain my relationships. I lived secluded and didn't care much for other people. What I didn't realize was that these were the first symptoms. What I also didn't realize was that burying myself in my writing for 18+ hours a day to avoid any responsibility was anything but healthy.

It went on, I wrote two (fan) books with my best friend, but my life was just – gone. And the moment my friend died, my joy in writing went with her. I could no longer find joy in anything, and the depression that had just been waiting for me to slip up pulled me down into the water. There I was, unable to think straight, full of self-loathing, fear, and not even my writing was able to save me then. Still, I threw myself into it. It wasn’t joy that drove me now. It was an obsession. My life, my person, they were both completely gone. Dissolved into letters in the water. And I wasn’t strong enough yet to face this sad truth; I was still grasping at straws that were unable to hold my weight to pull me out of the deep.

As soon as I had exhausted the murderous path of the perhaps most violent and hurt character that I have ever created – a mirror of my own struggles – I simply… stopped. I couldn’t flee the depression anymore. There was no joy, not even an obsession anymore. I had to acknowledge that it was either therapy or the bleak nothing that my life had become. The choice was easy. Still, I didn’t want to stop the one thing that had kept me going for so long. But it was no use.

Writing had become a chore, and my mind did not have room for chores.

So how does it get better? How did I – how can anyone find joy in what kept them alive for so long when even that is taken from them by this illness? I can’t claim to know a universal answer, of course. But one thing, maybe the most important thing while you’re seeking help (therapy or medication alike) is this: you are not your writing. Your worth as a person is not defined by your creative output.

There are some things we can do to ease the pressure that our mind puts on us. As writers, I think we owe it to ourselves to empower our own tactics of how we operate, how we maneuver depressive episodes and sparks of anxiety. Nothing of this “just think positive”-crap, no. We all know that this isn’t really helping anyone.

Seek help. This is paramount. If you can’t afford a therapist/psychologist due to your country’s healthcare, there are online resources, for example eCounseling, but I am sure there are more, and even more affordable ones than that.

Learn to be kind to yourself. Learn to recognize the patterns that imprison you in self-doubt and that keep telling you that your worth is determined by what you do.

You’ve already got your hands full now, right? So at this point, one thing you should tell yourself: don’t sweat it. Your writing will come back to you, and with a mind that’s working better than before? It will come to you in vibrant colors you never knew you could see down there in the water. So keep it easy.

If you feel the urge to write return, again: take it step by step! Don’t set absurd goals like 1k words a day! I’m at 1k a week, maybe in two weeks because I simply can’t afford to lose the joy in my writing again. Take something small, manageable. Something you can do while you’re still recovering.

You do NOT have to write every day. You are not less of a writer if you take your time. Do you know how long it took Tolkien to write The Lord of the Rings? He needed 12 years to write this series. It took another eight years until it was published. You have time.

You always have time to care for yourself. Don’t let capitalism tell you that you’re doing “nothing” when you’re not creating or working a dayjob. You do you. You’ve got enough on your plate.

And I think… that’s it. These points all sound so terribly easy, right? But it took me ten years to grasp it. Ten years! So whatever you do, you need to be patient. You need to be kind to yourself where your depression is not. Try imagining it as either a small child that’s overwhelmed, so you can talk to it and try to help it by being kind to the little one. Or maybe depression is a villain for you? A disgusting snail that keeps slithering up your legs, holding you back? Throw salt on it – and not only in the literal sense. Be snarky, be moody, be everything you need to be to find back to yourself.

Most of all: you matter; your stories matter. You will get them out of your system as soon as you’re ready. And then they will be glorious.

#anxiety #depression #rejection sensitive dysphoria #adhd #writing #writing with depression #writing tips #writer's block #self care #life advice

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takeabitetoremember · 5 years

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FAQ’s With Mama Hen

I’m working on the next chapter, and it’s taking me awhile, I’ll admit. Having been in and out of the hospital a few times, doctor’s appointments and such, I’ve been tired- but I’m alive! In the meantime, I wanted to write a few little “FAQ’s with Mama Hen” while they were on my mind. I’ll scroll through my feed, and see things, and then realize I wonder if these people understand what this means? Or, I need to explain what I’m getting ready to do next in the story. My mind is all over the place, and I have so many things going on at any point in time in it, that I’ll often forget things easily. So, while these things are on my mind, I’m going to post and address them.

The First: I’ve seen many people in the fandom who are either ALL about “Daddy Dom” or absolutely grossed out by it. What Mama Hen is wondering, how many really understand the dynamic of a Daddy Dom, and what it really is? I’m going to explain to you. A Daddy Dom has absolutely NOTHING to do with incest, pedophilia, or age play. None. For those who have been involved in the Lifestyle (that is the BDSM Lifestyle), a Daddy Dom differs from other Dominants or Masters. You may have seen the term DD/lg or DD/lb for the Daddy Dom and his little depending upon the sex. Once again, littles are women or men of LEGAL age, they are not age players who are interested in incest or pedophilia. The dynamic between a Daddy Dom and a little tends to be more loving and playful than the role of a traditional Dominant/sub Master/Slave. That is NOT to say that there is not the discipline given in the traditional BDSM relationship, but in the role of the Daddy Dom/little relationship it is one where the little is encouraged and fostered to let themselves be free and nurtured. The Daddy Dom is more loving Dominant, for those who are needier and enjoy affection this relationship would most definitely be the one to seek out starting out in the Lifestyle. It’s not something dirty or shameful. These are nothing more than names. Don’t let someone shame you for something you enjoy, or something you’d like to try. The key in ALL relationships, is trust. In any relationship D/s DD/lg DD/lb M/s relationship, the person holding the power is the submissive. Always remember that. If you are the submissive, make sure that your Dom(me) always respects your limits. It’s ok to have them, no matter what they are. If they are a true Dom(me), and interested in being with you, they will absolutely be respectful of those limits. If they aren’t. You walk right then. No true Dom(me) will disrespect limits. If you are a Dom(me) be respectful of your sub(s)/slaves, they are a treasure. They have chosen You, and are putting their trust in You not to harm them, but to mold them, and guide them. Don’t let them down.

Second: People being creeped out over the ages of Michael and Mallory in the beginning of the story. I went back, to the very, very beginning to give a backstory. I didn’t put footnotes, which, in hindsight, I probably should’ve. Yes, I did make a note that I had written Michael’s age was 16, and his mentality was 16. Ok. Let’s be honest ya’ll teenagers have sex. There wouldn’t be a popular MTV show called 16 and pregnant if they didn’t. Do I wish that there weren’t pregnant teenagers in real life? Dear God, yes. You have no idea how much I wish there weren’t. Most have no fucking idea how hard it is. I’ve given birth to two children. One naturally (and God knows that was NOT by choice), one by c-section, asleep. I had severe complications with both pregnancies, and only complications with the natural birth. I wouldn’t wish what happened to me either time upon my worst enemy. My chicks, you’re living under a rock if you think this isn’t happening. Now, had I written a having a 25 year old having sex with a 13 year old. There is a problem. There’s a BIG. ASS. PROBLEM. That’s illegal. Granted, it’s STILL fiction. There are television shows where that shit happens. It happens in real life as well, and it turns my stomach and hurts my heart, believe me, it rips Mama Hen’s heart out, and there’s something wrong with a 25 year old (male OR female) whose fucking a 13 year old, BUT I digress. My maternal grandmother got married the first time at age 14. He first husband died in the war (WWII) in Germany when she was 15, shortly after my Uncle Steve was born. She married my papaw later that year. Before she was 16, she’d been married twice. My paternal grandmother got married at 15 to my first papaw. This was in the 1940’s. I was born in the 1970’s. I had a friend in high school who got married at age 15. She now has a 24 year old child, along with five other children. She’s been married almost 24 years. I’ve been out of school 20 years this year. There was a time where it was the norm to marry when you were young. I don’t know what culture or country everyone is from, and in different countries, it still is a custom to marry younger (not exactly THIS young thank God, but many are encouraged to marry after finishing school/studies- and I don’t wish to down or be disrespectful to anyone’s culture and/or religious beliefs as long as they are not hurting anyone. Sadly, yes, Mama Hen knows child brides still exist today, and my heart hurts. That's a whole 'nother subject for another day. If you were wondering. I'm talking about consensual marriage.) So, in a nutshell, this is a work of complete fiction, just like AHS. Do some of these things happen in real life? Yes. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s not the end of the world. There are resources to help if you or someone you know is pregnant or if you think you are pregnant and need help. You have options. If you life in the United States you can go to your local Planned Parenthood for free testing, counseling about your options (this does NOT mean they are going to pressure you into having an abortion- this is a HUGE misconception!) they offer low cost or free health care to women needing it, including prenatal care. If you should decide that you are not ready to be a mother, they will treat you with dignity, and explain your options about abortion. Every woman no matter their age when pregnant deserves to be treated with compassion and dignity.

Lastly: These are works of fiction that we’re writing here, chicks, don’t take this stuff so serious. When I say don’t take it so seriously, I mean there are people who just freak the fuck out over it, and get bent out of shape. Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t be losing sleep. Don’t be worrying about who hates on your work. Don’t be worrying about why someone doesn’t like you, or is talking shit about you, or this, that, or the other. Life is WAY too short, and there are far more important things to worry about. This is for fun. This is something to do in your down time when you’re able to. Tumblr is a great place to relax, and the #Millory fandom has been wonderful to meet others and make friends, ya’ll! There are some really great people who have been writing, sharing art, pictures, and so forth. Don’t let those who don’t like what you put forth get your feathers ruffled. If they don’t like #Millory, scroll right on past it. If they leave an ugly comment on your page, look to see if it’s constructive criticism, or just a hater/troll. If they’re leaving you something constructive, keep it in mind as something to think about. If it’s a troll, let it roll off your back. Delete. Block. Go on with your day. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit. I don’t, and I’m not dealing with it. It’s back to one of the things in the “Mama Hen’s Advice for a New Year”- Be Kind, But Take No Shit. Exactly. Be kind to all, but take no shit. Remember this. Am I saying that no one who writes here won't go on to be a writer, have published novels, screenplays, movies, a tv series? Absolutely not! Any one of you have limitless potential! I realize many write for fun, as stress relief, a creative outlet, or like me, it's just something they enjoy doing because their brains go fifty miles a minute, and it calms it a bit to write. Everyone has their reasons. Don't let someone discourage you, and remember if you wear your feelings on your sleeve when it comes to your writing it will bite you in the ass, I promise you. Over the years, I've had people leave me comments from hardass constructive criticism posts that were hard to swallow, I'll admit, BUT much needed, to just outright trolls meant to be bitchy. I can sniff them out now and just feel genuinely sorry for them, because I'm an empathetic person. Bottom line, don't get discouraged, or worked up over people's opinions here. That's all they are.

I love you all, my chicks. Be good to one another. Life is short, enjoy every moment you can.

-- Mama Hen

#millory #stay with me #american horror story apocalypse #mama hen's words of wisdom #mama hen

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rosaceablues · 6 years

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Convenient pt 1 - a Reddie Fanfic

I was inspired by this ask post https://sparklytoziers.tumblr.com/post/168514887418/like-imagine-eddie-working-in-a-247-convinience from @sparklytoziers so enjoy the beginnings of this Reddie fic (all creative credits to them). Lmk if you want another addition, we’ll see how this goes!

Richie kicked at the stuck gum on the hardwood floor of his “new” apartment. In truth, the only sort of new it was was new to him; the antiquated, dusty, one bedroom had seen better days, but served him well enough, regardless. It was his.

Granted, his parents had funded his living situation, but it was still his. Really, it had all the amenities a new college kid could need: a microwave, a bed (sans bed frame), a couch (well loved, as his parents called it), and a roof. What more could he ask for? A car, maybe. A better town than Derry, Maine, of course. Friends, well sure. Cigarettes....cigarettes, those he could procure on his own funds. After the hectic moving process and the slightly overbearing parents’ goodbyes, he could really use a pack, and he was sure there was a 24 hour convenience store just up the block. It only took a minute to yank on some high tops and Richie was out the door, only slightly concerned that he had no idea where he was going at 2 am.

At the same instant he stumbled into the walkway between apartments, his neighbor was unlocking their door to go back inside. In true Tozier fashion, he was ready to charm the hell out of whoever it may be, just in case he ever needed a favor or two as he often did. What he was not prepared for was a skinny girl about his age, ginger hair splaying over pale, freckled shoulders and, funnily enough, a The Smiths tank top. He had already decided the two were going to be friends.

The girl finally broke the silence with a bemused “Can I help you, friend?”

“Ah senorita, eet seems you’ve caught me! I was ready to rob this place blind but they had nathing good. Teens, eh?” This was a classic example of Richie’s Poncho Vanilla voice, one of many airs he put on to get a laugh and make a scene. Just something he picked up from hours of being bored as a kid, wanting people to like him really, but he would never admit that.

This latest act received a scrunched up nose and a confused, but amused, smirk. That would have to do. He outstretched his hand to his latest audience and received a chuckle and a hand in return, nails painted with sparkling blue polish, cuticles horribly ripped up.

“I’m your-”

“New neighbor.” She interrupted him, finishing his sentence and now totally focused on the conversation, door key in the hand not currently held by Richie. “I know, I heard you moving in this morning. I’m Beverly. Bev, if you want.”

“I’m Richie. Rich, if you want.” He gave a small kiss to the knuckles and let her hand free, turning back to his own door to lock it. “Regretfully madam I am awf to complete an errand for the mastah.” Another voice, this time a stuffy British butler. Finally, turning to Beverly and without any character to his voice, he added, “Did you need anything from the convenience store? I don’t mind picking something up for such a nice new neighbor.”

“Ah that’s okay. I was heading to bed anyways. Long day.” She turned to her own door and was halfway inside before adding, “Thanks though, have a nice night.” She peeked her head out just as he was strolling away. “And be safe out there. Weird stuff has happened in Derry before. Feel free to ask if you need something.” Richie gave a half hearted salute, his back still to her as he headed out the complex and into the warm night air, humming an old drinking song as he went.

After a few wrong turns and a few more odd looks from the night goers, the glow from the glass doors poured over the small corner and welcomed the boy in. That is to say it, welcomed him in as much as buzzing fluorescent bars tinted from the aging covers and The Backstreet Boys playing softly can. Before heading to the counter to get what he originally set out for, Rich decided to grab some snacks and a soda for the road.

Just as he turned around from reaching for a Coke from the fridge lining the back wall, the most beautiful boy came into view. Smaller stature, chiseled face, short, dark hair, pink lips, dark blue jean jacket. Something about him made Richie literally lose his shit. No, really. He dropped the bottle he had just retrieved and it, of course, burst into a foamy mess, slicking the linoleum and soaking the off white high tops of the awestruck Richie This was met with a “What the FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” from the mystery boy.

“Oh. Oh shit... oh man I am so sorry really I-”

“Just-” a sigh came from the boy who obviously was employed there by the way he reacted to this latest incident. “Just leave it. I’ll... deal with it.” He ran a hand through his (beautiful) hair in exasperation, coupled by another shallow sigh. “Did you want to buy something? Or just... mess up the store some more? Be my guest.” He took his place behind the counter, staring at the puddle and looking right past the frazzled Richie waddling up to him and wiping his glasses on the edge of his shirt.

“Can I also get a pack of the green Marlboros? I’m still just... so.. so sorry I can-”

“$6.50,” The boy interrupted, still not caring to look up at his customer. The cash was exchanged and the cashier finally stole a glance at the bespectacled boy still out of sorts and very ready to get home, rushing out the door as soon as the transaction was over. If he would have stayed any longer, Richie would have not been able to ignore the tinge of pink creeping onto the boy’s face as he watched this stranger hurry on his way.

#it #it2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #reddie #the losers club #fanfic #fanfiction #reddie fanfiction #I AM SORRY IF THIS IS NO GOOD

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hornsbeforehalos · 7 years

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Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 18

Pairing: JDM x OFC

Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC**

Series Masterlist Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart. Warnings: Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please

(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.)

*SONG USED IN THIS PART IS BODAK YELLOW BY CARDI B ALL LYRICS AND IDEAS IN REGARDS TO MUSIC VIDEO BELONGS TO HER.

TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @wayward-mirage @aquivercactus @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87 @missghoul18@jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash

The rest of the weekend went by in a blur, split between following Misha around like a chicken with my head cut off and sneaking away to find Jeffrey to bury ourselves in each other. It was over too fast, and before it felt like I could blink I was back in Vancouver, on set and bored out of my skull. "Jesus Christ, Padalecki, get it the fuck together!" I heard the director yell from his chair behind the camera. He was new, and thought he knew shit. He did, in fact, not know shit.

I whipped my head around at his tone of voice, shooting daggers towards him before turning to the stage. My brother was obviously irked, vein in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw in that very Winchester way as he controlled himself from going off on the balding man.

"Places....Rolling....Go."

The boys started the scene again, said their lines, discussing whatever hunt the brothers were on this episode. Everything was going smoothly until Jensen accidentally knocked a prop off of the map table and couldn't help but laugh.

"Jesus....Are you two fucking idiots? Can you two really not get through one fucking scene?"

Jensen made a brazen move forward, but Jared stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. My brother was about to open his mouth to speak when I jumped up from my place.

"Aye! Who the fuck do you think you're talkin' to?" I barked, drawl sifting through with my rage as I swiftly stalking forward to stand closer to where the annoying little prick sat.

"Who the fuck are you?" he recoiled in a hiss, eyeing me up and down with venom in his eyes.

"Who the fuck are you? I've never seen you a day before in my life and I've been on this set for 13 fucking years. You don't speak to my brothers like that here. You don't speak to anyone like that here!" I seethed, squinting my eyes at him like he was a pest that needed to be squashed.

The man huffed, his eyes sliding from me to the two men who had moved away from the stage to menacingly stand behind me. I quirked an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms, "I think you need to apologize before someone fucks around and fires you on your first fucking day."

He swallowed thickly, glancing to me for a second before back to the glowering looming figures above me, "I-I-I'm sorry, Mr. Ackles. Please forgive me, Mr. Padalecki."

I smirked, craning my head to look up at Jensen and Jared, finding them nodding spite the scowls still splayed across both their faces. I looked back forward as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I noted that it wasn't a number I had programmed.

"You're lucky I'm getting a call right now, douche, or I'd tear into your ass some more."

I walked away from the area as the crew went back to work and slid the accept button.

"Ms. Ackles?" The man on the other line said

"This is she."

"This is Webster, we met at the gallery? Norman said he let you know to expect my call?" "Oh yes, sir! How are you doing today?" "Great, great. Do you have a moment to speak now?" "I do, Mr. Webster. What did you have in mind?" "Well my client, Cardi, said she really liked your look and that you would suit well with her vision of the video she wants. This is all on her as far as creative ideas, so she's basically getting whatever she wants, and she's decided that she wants you." "Cardi, like....Cardi B? The rapper stripper chick from Love and Hip Hop?" he chuckled, and I pictured him shaking his head, "Yes, 'mam. That's her." "Huh. That's crazy. I actually worked with her one time years ago. Weird." "She said she thought you looked familiar. Maybe that's where that's from. Anyway, we're offering you full commodities and accommodations, travel expenses, et cetera, and the over all pay out due to you will be roughly 10, 000 after the work is completed." I choked on the gulp of RedBull I had been attempting to swallow, "Wha-wha-what?! 10,000, like, in, money?" He chuckled again, "Yes, Ms. Ackles, real U.S currency. Cash, Deposit, or Check, however you prefer." "Holy fucking shit." "So, I take that as a yes? I can have the contract sent over for you to go over with your lawyer by the end of the day." "Fuck yeah, send that shit."

"What're you doing?" Jeffrey rasped into his end of the line the second he picked up. "Freaking out. You'll never believe it." "Webbie call you?" "Fuck you, it was supposed to be a surprise" I faux pouted "Surprise, I already knew? You'll be in New York in a couple weeks, right?" "Yup! I'm so excited. It's a little bit out of my element, but I think it'll be fun." "Look at you. You gonna be staying at Norman's?" "Nah, he's not gonna be home then, he'll still be down there with ya'll." "I know this." "Then why did you ask?" "Well, because I was planning on staying at Norman's that week and could really use the company." He teased. "Really?" I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice if I wanted to "Yeah, it worked out that I'm not gonna be needed that week. I was gonna fly up there to see you but Normskie told me about the contract so we figured you and I could just stay there 'As long as we didn't soil the place', he said" Jeffrey chuckled, probably shaking his head at the thought of his friend. "Yay! Yes! I was actually kinda scared about going by myself" "Well, now you don't have to be. I'll be there to protect you." "My hero" I sang sarcastically, earning me another husky laugh from Jeff. "I can't wait to see you, love. Been too long." He rasped, voice pitching an octave lower. "It's been two days, babe." "Yeah, two painstakingly aching days without you. Without your kisses, without your arms, without your smell. I'm craving you, baby girl." his voice was so low now if it got any deeper it would strike oil. "Fucking bitch." I gasped, lightheaded from his words. "Yeah, you are." he chuckled thickly, "My dirty little-" "Fuck you." "I will, babydoll. Don't worry about that. The moment I see you, Daddy's gonna be buried so deep....Mmmmmm." "Fuck you." I repeated with a added whine, "Why do you do that?" "What? I'm just communicating my needs to my lovely girlfriend. My lovely, beautiful, sexy, tight, girlfriend." I hissed in response. He giggled, enjoying tortuing me. "I'm gonna wear your ass out when I see you, Mr. Morgan." I hummed. "Not if I wear yours out first, Ms. Ackles."

The next two weeks seemed to creep by. Even with the insanity that was Gish week, the familiar tasks of going over entries and scoring and tallying and organizing did little to keep my mind from wandering to Jeffrey. The anticipation of seeing him had me missing him even more, especially with the teasing conversations that he had to elicit every time we were on the phone. I swear the man was trying to kill me or something. When the day finally came for him to meet me at the New York airport I tore myself across the over crowded are where I saw him waiting for me with a couple security guards and flung myself at him like a mad woman. My bags dropped to the ground and and I leaped, full speed, into his open arms. My legs wrapped around his waist and my mouth melted to his so fast I couldn't close my eyes before the stars appeared. He pulled away from my lips to pepper my face in kisses before smothering me against him as he squeezed me, effectively popping several vertebrae in my back.

"God I missed you, sweetheart," he breathed into my hair, not putting me down as started walking towards the exit, his body guards grabbing my bags. I buried my face into his collar bone and inhaled his intoxicating aroma of cigarettes and cologne as he carried me through the airport, ignoring the multiple flashing cameras as we made our way out. "That's gonna be on TMZ, ya know. "Kylin Ackles gets carried out of airport like a baby by Jeffrey Dean Morgan" "Yeah, because the headline is gonna be about you, love." he chuckled as we approached the SUV waiting for us. "It is. I'm more famous than you, you know." I giggled, scrunching my nose and nuzzling his scruff. "Yeah, I'm sure you're totally correct on that statement, there, baby doll." he snorted before sitting me in the back seat. I scooted over so he could join me and close the door. He instantly ignored the two giants as they crawled into the front seats, pulling me as close to him as possible and shoving his tongue down my throat with an arm snaking around to grasp my ass. "Jezus, Jeff, let the poor woman breathe!" the one driving, Eddie, teased as we pulled out of the airport "We're right here, bruh. I love you and all, you my dog, but I ain't tryna see your dick." the passenger, Tyrone, kidded. I instantly snorted out a laugh against Jeff's mouth, efficiently breaking us apart as my face beamed red. "Awh, hon, no need for you to be embarrassed, it's Jeffy poo over here that's about to blow his fuckin' load." Eddie joked, eyeing my red complexion in the rear view mirror, "You got that man whipped, girl." I giggled as Jeff pulled away to glare at the men in the front seat, covering my mouth with my hands as my giggles erupted to full blown uncontainable laughter. "Oh, so now I got you laughing at me too?" Jeff whined, turning his attention back to me before deepening his drawl, "You're gonna get it, little girl" "Ho-Oh! I bet she could take you." Tyrone bellowed. "Damn right she can." Jeffrey replied, throwing his arm over my shoulder as he adjusted the leg of his jeans and pulled me into his side. "Jesus Christ, babe. Couthe. Fucking couthe." "I have none." "Obviously."

When we arrived at Norman's apartment Jeffrey let us both in with his key and threw our bags behind the door. We slipped off our shoes before scooping me up bridal style and rushing us to our room. I giggled the entire way as Jeffrey once again covered my face and hair and neck in sloppy kisses while squeezing his fingers around his grip on my thighs. He plopped me, literally, onto the bed and I squeaked, bouncing on top of the mattress as he threw himself over me with a playful roar. I tried to scurry my way up towards the head board but he grabbed my ankle and halted me. "Get over here, little one." he growled, predatory snarl decorating his face as his eyes darkened. "Make me." I smirked back, murderous smile splayed across my own cheeks. He clicked his tongue against his front teeth, "Wrong answer, baby love." He yanked my leg and I slipped down the mattress before he grabbed my other ankle and flipped me over onto my stomach. Before I could even register his movement a hand came down over the denim covering my ass with a loud "THWACK!" That caused my whole body to tingle and an embarrassing moan to escape my throat. "You have been hellish recently, little girl, you know that?" he questioned with a grin, working his shirt over his shoulders as I remained still on the bed, my ass still stinging. "S'part of my charm," I mumbled into the blankets. THWACK! "Oww! Fuck you!" I jerked my self out of his grip of my ankle and pushed away from him. "Now, now, Kylin Kay, no need for the language." He cooed darkly, Cheshire smile spreading as his head tilted. "Fuck you, Mr. J." "I will, Ms. Ackles. You bet I fuckin' will." "If I let you." "What happened to 'wearing me out' hmm? Seems like I'm sticking to my promise." My eyes narrowed in challenge, my own face tilting quickly to the side as my voice dropped an octave seductively, "Is that what you think, Mr. Morgan?" "Mmmhmmm," He hummed smugly. "Well, darlin', in my personal opinion," I started, twang thick in my lust as I pulled the tank top I was wearing over my head to toss at him, exposing my lacy black bra I had picked out specifically for this fun, "That you hit like a litty, bitty, bitch." "Big opinion for such a small girl." "The only opinion that counts, though, right, old man?" Jeffrey snarled again as he leaned over to crawl on the bed, eyes dangerous and hungry. He prowled forward, his body hovering over mine as he peered down at me and licked his lips. Suddenly, one hand wound itself in my hair with a sharp pull, jerking my head upwards towards his face, "The only one who's gonna be a bitch here is you, my little bitch in heat, begging for daddy to fill her up."

A flood happened somewhere in my panties, and my breath choked as my whole body became sensitive from him scratching his rough beard along the flesh of my neck. A loud, wanton moan filled the room as he ground his hips against mine, denim on denim creating almost painfully needed friction. He moved his hand from my tresses and slithered it to my jaw, thumb brushing across my lips before diving in between my lips forcefully. My tongue, with a mind of its own, instantly wrapped and curled around his digit, sucking it deeper into my mouth. Jeffrey closed his eyes and dug his hardness into me again. Seeing the opportunity, I bit down. Hard. "Rah! Fucking hell, woman!" Jeffrey road, snatching his hand away from me and sitting up on his thighs, "You wanna play like that, huh? I've got you, now." He backed off of me and moved downward, tugging my shorts off and leaving me in nothing but my panties that matched my bra. Jeffrey groaned at the sight, tongue darting out between his mouth before he secured his bottom lip between his teeth. He ran his hands up my smooth calves to my thighs, eyes never breaking contact with mine. He smoothed his fingertips downward before moving them back to my ankles. In one swift, unanticipated movement, he twisted my body as he sat down on the bed, spreading me across his lap, my tummy to his thighs. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." I griped, fighting against him as he pinned me down with one arm over my back, like you would a child.

THWACK "Fuck you, Jeffrey!" THWACK "You're still a fucking bitch." THWACK-THWACK-THWACK "Just fucking wait-" THWACK "Okay! Okay! Jeezus! I'm fuckin' sorry!" THWACK, but this time, instead of instantly removing his hand from my cheek, he kept it there, shaking it gently as it absorbed the sting. "What was that, little one?" "I said I was sorry, damn!" "Language, kitten." he rasped and I felt him raise his hand above me again. "YELLOW FUCKING LIGHT JEFFREY." His whole demeanor changed instantly, hand quickly dropping back down to massage the scarlet painted flesh that was my behind as he leaned forward and hunched over me to kiss my back. The tingling sensation that my whole body was experiencing flung me over into hypersensitivity and my eyes rolled back in my head at the feeling of his course hair against my skin. "You okay?" His deep drawl was still lusty, but mixed with concern now. "Yeah," I panted, trying to steady myself. "Fuck" "What do you need, baby girl?" "You, inside me, now." I groaned, gingerly lifting myself from across his lap to straddle him, raking my manicured nails down his chest "You've got entirely too many clothes on, Mr. J."

"Well take 'em off of me, sweetpea." I wiggled off of his lap to kneel between his legs where he sat on the bed. My hands moved to finger the button on his jeans, slowly tugging them open and unzipping them. He raised his hips to allow me to pull them off at the same time as his boxers, my mouth instantly watering as his clock flopped free. Naturally, Jeffrey picked up on the needy look in my eyes. "You wannet, baby?" He rasped, looking down at me through hooded, wanton eyes as he grasped himself and stroked. I licked my lips before moving my eyes from his dick to his face and nodding. "You wannet bad?" he asked again, continuing to stoke himself. I nodded again. "Say it," "I want it." My dialated pupils rose back to his face. "Want what?" he smirked. "Your cock." "Say it." "I want your cock." "Where, baby girl?" he cooed mischievously. "Inside me." I whimpered "What was that?" "I want your cock inside me, Daddy." Throwing the last word in for good measure. The growl that emitted from his chest sounded like it came straight from his soul, and he lunged at me from across the sheets. His long arm curled itself around my back and with a snap, my bra came open and he ripped it off my chest, my nipples instantly hardening against the cool air conditioning of the apartment. I didn't have time to shiver before his mouth was attached to my right breast and his other hand moved to massage the left one. I moaned again, grateful for his contact that I had been deprived of for the past two weeks "Jeffrey." I groaned, feeling him dig his hardness into the slick between my thighs, "I need you, baby." "There it is." He grinned smugly, pride beaming through his irises, "There's my girl." "Fuck, Jeff." "Do you need something, little one?" he cooed sarcastically. "I hate you." I whined. "Oh, really? Well then I guess I'll..." he trailed off, moving away from me, trying to back off the bed. "Fucking bitch, I don't think so, mister." I growled, wrapping my legs around his shoulders and pulling him forward. The motion made his hands slip and he landed face first into my panties, "That's more like it." "Oh yeah, you think you deserve my tongue laving at this pussy?" "Yes." "And what have you done to deserve it?" "Put up with your teasin', Mr. Morgan. I deserve a prize." "Tsk tsk, little girl. I don't think you're needy enough." "Jeffrey Dean Morgan." "Mmmm, I like the way you say that" "If you don't...." I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence as he began to pull my underwear downwards with his teeth. Once they were off my ankles, he re-positioned himself between my legs and breathed deeply over the bare flesh in front of him, "If I don't what, Darling?" I whined, a pitiful sound that ached down from my very core. Jeffrey smirked that devilish grin of him that further pulled the string holding my composure together. "Get it the fuck together, Kylin. Don't you let him make you beg.' His hot breath ghosted over my skin beneath his mouth with another deep hum, his tongue gently darting out to graze over the outside of my lips, spreading them just barely. Jeff could visibly see my core contract as my walls clenched around nothingness, physically begging for contact of any kind. Another smirk appeared over his face as he looked down at it with a chuckle, before peering back up to me knowingly. I whined again but bit my lip, squirming as I tried to buck my hips upward. He held me down still, his arms wrapped under neath my thighs to hold them open. He licked the front of his top teeth hungrily, lust blown pupils boring into me and furthering my torture. 'Don't you fucking do it.' I had to keep telling myself. An idea came to mind and I executed it before I had time to really think. I swiftly brought my thighs back around his shoulders, gripping him tightly about the neck. His hold on my legs had loosened due to my unexpectedness, and I seized the opportunity to roll us both over and rise to my knees in one fluid motion. I was now, to Jeff's very obvious surprise, holding his body down to the bed with my pussy directly in his face. I reached back, my long hair tickling his stomach, and gripped his cock firmly in my hand before he even registered what had happened. "What in the fuh-" "Eat it, now." I commanded, squeezing at his root. "Fucking bitch-" Jeffrey growled, and although I couldn't see his face I smirked at the idea that he was rolling his eyes between my legs before diving his tongue deep inside my folds to drink up the wetness like it was the blood of Christ at Easter Mass. "Yeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhsssssss" I wailed as tears pricked my eyes at the sudden relief that flowed through me. I eagerly began to rock my hips back and forth, the vibrations of Jeffrey's grunts and groans wrecking my very soul. I gasped, and moaned, and screamed, and cried as his tongue assaulted my clit before dipping and suckling at my entrance. The familiar tightening sensation coiled around my center as the course hairs of Jeffrey's face scratched and scraped against my flesh. His face was soaked with my juices but he never came up for air, instead furrowing his brows as he felt me begin to quiver above him and picking up his pace, his attack brutal and feral as he twisted his tongue against my folds. I leaned back again and twisted myself, almost uncomfortably, around to be face to face with his cock. Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I sunk my throat down over his length, earning me nothing short of what could be described as a scream from Jeffrey against my cunt, followed by his hips bucking upwards to thrust further down my neck twice before I gagged and and tried to pull away. His dick followed my mouth though, and I had to actually push his hips down to pop my lips from his shaft. I chose the opportune time, as well, because as soon as he left my mouth my entire face was coated as nut spurted from his cock. In his reaction he released a feral roar as he dove his tongue as deep as it could possibly dig, his whole mouth enveloping me with hot breath and suction, triggering my own meltdown that made me cry out and shake, my walls clenching down on his tongue trying to hold him in place there forever. The release took over my being, disallowing me to do anything but pant and quiver and whimper. The relaxation slowly turned to over sensitivity and I wretched myself from him and landed face first into the sheets, butt in the air as I wiped of the mess from my face in the process. My ass was directly in his line of sight where he lay beside me panting, and he couldn't help himself as he raised up and rolled to his side, delivering another violent THWACK to my ass that he used to hoist himself into the sitting position. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I felt like I was dying in a blissful day dream that was way too short lived. He stood from the bed in front of my head, hand tangling itself in the mess that had became of my hair, and jerked my face up to be eye-level with his softened dick. "Look what you did." I smirked up at him triumphantly, licking my lips as I shifted my eyes downwards towards his member "You're the one who couldn't handle a little head." I stuck my tongue out and grazed the spent head that still had fluid dribbling out of it. Jeffrey's fingers tightened against my skull, making me open my mouth in a gasp that he took full advantage of. His free hand came to grip the base of his cock as he shoved it past my lips.

"Suck it. Get it hard again. I'm not done with you yet." I moaned, eyes rolling up to meet his as I hummed around his flesh and slurped him into my mouth, feeling him growing harder and harder by the second. He pumped into my throat quickly, grunting at my body's willingness to take him. "That's it, baby girl. Fuck, yes. So good." he praised in a rasp, his hand around his root moving into my hair to form a pony tail to pull it away from my face, "Best fucking mouth I've ever had." Another moan ripped through me, a new coat of wetness slicking my cunt and dripping down onto the sheets as my body shivered with need. I reveled in the feeling of his thickness plunging into my mouth, his pants and grunts above me making my pupils dilate and body tingle. He pulled my head away from his cock with a loud pop, one hand gripping the base again as he stroked himself gently before untangling the other from my hair, "Turn around, beautiful, hands and knees." I obeyed silently, body pretty much taken control of itself while my mind was hazy with lust and orgasmic bliss. I let out a surprised squeak when I suddenly felt two of his long, thick digits enter my pussy and his thumb press firmly against my asshole. Before I even had time to react, his other hand came down across my ass one final time, and my second orgasm wrecked through my system so unexpectedly I couldn't even make a noise if I'd tried. My arms buckled and I face planted into the sheets, mouth gaping in a silent scream. I had no time to recover before Jeffrey was behind me, the blunt head of his cock pushing past my quivering entrance as my body tried to suck him in further. "If that's not the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen." "Fuuuuuuhhhhhhkkkkk" I was finally able to get out, my voice broken as pleasure-induced tears streamed down my face. "Awh, look at my baby girl. Crying for daddy's cock, are you?" He smirked, voice sweet but sarcastic. Tired of his games and torture, I mustered up the energy some how to lift myself up to my elbows and arch my back before slamming my hips backwards and impaling myself on his dick. "You fucking dirty little bi-" He started but was cut off by me moving forward and slamming back again. "Filthy fucking-" SLAM "That how you wanna do this, huh?" SLAM "Oh yeah, you wanna take it?" SLAM "I'll make you take it, little girl." SLAM "Okay, enough of that." He growled, finger tips gripping my hips with bruising strength. He pulled me back roughly and rolled his hips, digging the head of his cock into the opening of my cervix , causing me to cry out again in both pleasure and pain. "Yeah, you like that, baby girl?" he rasped, to which I whined in response. "Huh? Do you?" He panted, pulling out and plunging back in deeply. "yeh-yeh-yeeeasss, daddy" I cried, my hips instinctively moving in time with his thrusts "That's my good girl." He began a barrage of hearty thrusts that I kept up with willingly, my hands clutching the sheets for leverage as we rocked back and forth against each other as fast as we could. Need and desire took us both over and we both became blubbering, moaning, wet messes as my slickness coated him as he moved himself in and out of me. Within a matter of minutes I felt the familiar heat spreading through my core as he throbbed inside me, preparing for release. "You take it so good, baby. I'm gonna come. I need you to come first." He panted, slowing his thrusts as he tried to hang on. "Nnnnnng, Jeff, I can't...." I could feel the orgasm trying its best to push forward, but it couldn't reach the surface no matter how hard I tried to will it. "Yes you can, baby doll. Come for me." Jeff soothed, leaning down over my back to snake arms around me and pull me upward to where my back was against his chest. His lips and scuff brushed my skin as he peppered my neck with kisses and nibbles, teeth grazing and marking what was his. One palm moved to my breast to pull and tease at the nipple as the other one slithered down between my thighs to push against my clit. Within two swirls of his fingertip around the sensitive nub my mind exploded as stars shot across my vision. The dark coil inside me burst once again and I gushed against him as he pushed me back down on to the bed, hands moving to pin me down to the mattress as his thighs straddled me and he jack hammered himself into my heat, chasing his own release with several quick thrusts before ripping himself out of me and spraying all over my body, thick ropes reaching across my ass and back all the way up to my shoulders with it's intensity. The guttural sound that emanated from his vocal chords shook me through and finalized both of our releases. His body instantly collapsed beside me on the sweat-and-whatever-else-soaked sheets. "Jesus fucking Christ." "Mhmmm," I hummed contently, eyes still closed, "promise completed." "Yes fuckin' 'mam!" he breathed with a chuckle, peaking one eye open to look at my disheveled state at the same time I did the same.

After cleaning up and taking a small nap, Jeffrey and I lounged around Norman's penthouse for the rest of the evening, ordering pizza and finding something to watch on TV. It was nice and relaxing, being able to sprawl out across the couch with my feet in his lap, him smiling at me with that cheeky grin of his as he tickled my toes. We eventually dug around and found norman's stash, Jeffrey rolling a joint and us sharing it on the patio balcony, gazing down at the busy streets of New York. "You nervous about the meeting tomorrow?" Jeffrey asked as he lit a cigarette between his lips and passing the pack to me. "Hmmm, I'm not sure." I said, taking one out and lighting it, "I guess I am. I've never done anything like this before, but you being here is helping me chill out."

"Good, I'm glad. S'kinda my goal." I smiled at him, leaning over the railing as my eyes drifted among the lights as I took an inhale off the cigarette between my fingers. "Watcha thinkin' bout, princess." "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just at peace for a moment, ya know?" "Hmm, I think I do." He moved behind me, chest against my back and hands on either side of mine against the railing. I savored the feeling of having him around me as he nuzzled his nose into my hair and kissed my shoulder. I leaned my head back against his shoulder as I took another drag of cancer. "It's crazy to think my life was nothing like this a year ago." I sighed contently, enjoying the rapture, "Thank you, Jeffrey." "For what?" "Supporting me...pushing me...being there for me....putting up with me." I snorted at the last part. Jeffrey snorted too, kissing the crown of my head before bringing his cigarette to his lips, "Anytime, Sweetheart."

The next morning came too soon, my body tired and sore and worn out from the previous days excitement. I groaned in protest when my alarm went off, throwing my arm over Jeffrey's back as I snuggled into his side as he quieted my phone for me. "Come on, babe, nope, gotta get up." he gruffed, voice thick and raspy from sleep. "Fuck you. Make me coffee." I grunted. "Too early in the morning to deal with your sass, little one." "Too early in the morning to be alive, old man" I shot back, pulling myself away from his warmth to drag myself into the connected bathroom and start the shower, "You better bring me fucking coffee!" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you, you fuckin' brat." I heard him shout through the door.

Of course he had my coffee made exactly the way I liked it on the nightstand when I exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel, my clothes laid out that I had told him I wanted to wear, and a joint rolled and ready to be lit. I smiled at my man sweetly as I watched him pull a white t-shirt over his shoulders and down around his torso. He had already put on my favorite black jeans of his and I couldn't help but lick my lips at how lucky I had gotten to find such a wonderful human being. "You're too sweet to me, Mr. J." I blushed as I dropped the towel from under my arms and picked up my coffee mug, him turning to burn his eyes over my flesh as I took a sip of the warm caffeinated liquid.

He chuckled, licking his teeth again as he drug his lids upward across my body to reach my face, "You're the one who looks like candy, darlin'." I sat the coffee cup back down and picked up the joint, tossing it to him with the lighter as I began to dress. He lit it as he watched me pull my underwear and bra on, passing it to me as I sauntered over to stand between his legs where he sat on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arms around my thighs to cup my ass cheeks with his hands, drawing me closer to him as he nuzzled his nose in between my cleavage and jokingly making the motor boat noise. "You're a dork." I choked, my laughter causing the smoke to irritate my lungs "Am not." he protested, squeezing my ass cheeks before giving the tender skin a playful smack, earning him a yelp of discomfort from me. "Sorry," he chuckled, massaging the skin tenderly, receiving a hum from me in response.

I was sitting in a large conference room waiting on the production team of the music video, as well as Cardi, the artist, sipping on the coffee the assistant had brought me when my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. 'I know you're in NYC, it was so great to see you again, Kylin. I hope your meeting goes well.' I hissed as I read the message, instantly knowing where it came from 'how did he get this number? how does he know where I am? The pictures, dumb ass, the fucking pictures from the airport. Fucking hell. When will this end?' I was distracted from my thoughts as the door swung open and several men in dress shirts entered followed by the artist herself. I stood up, smoothing my shirt out nervously as the group approached with smiles. "Kylin! Thank you for coming! I'm Perf, the director, and these are my assistants, and of course, this is Ms. Cardi." The first man greeted, bright smile contrasting greatly against his chocolate skin

"Ayeeee! Oh my god it is so great to meet you, girl!" Cardi beamed, pushing past the group of men to engulf me in an unexpected hug "Oh! Uh, It's great to meet you too, 'mam!" I replied, wrapping my arms gingerly around her nervously. "None of that 'mam' bull shit, ya hear me?! We all hoes here! Ha!" She laughed, sticking her tongue out, making us all laugh and my nerves ease.

We all took a chair around the conference table, Cardi sitting directly beside me and grasping my hands in my lap fondly. I smiled at her and she squealed, obviously excited for this meeting. "So we have a concept for the video, and we think your talent will fit perfectly into it." He started, pulling out a few concept sketches. I peered down at them as he slid them over to me and Cardi, her long nails pulling them closer to us as Perf pulled out his phone and let me listen to the song. Said, "Lil bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to" These expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes Hit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose And I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look I don't dance now, I make money moves Say I don't gotta dance, I make money move If I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you I'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves The song continued, my head nodding to the sound of the beat as my head whirled with ideas and inspiration. I looked to Cardi, who had a huge smile across her face as she watched my reaction. The music ended and she looked at me with a squeal, "So?! It's fucking poppin', right?" "I'm excited for sure. Is there any choreography that I need to learn before hand or is it just basically all gonna be freestyle?" I asked, looking to Perf. "You have free reign, basically, it's all gonna be in slow motion, so we don't have anything specific that we need you to do, just be sexy." "Which can't be hard for you to do." Cardi cut in, bright smile still prevalent as she saw the blush creep over my face, "Oh don't start that shit with me, gurrrrl, I seen who you're fuckin'. That nigga too foine" My eyes almost popped out my skull at her words, face burning impossibly hotter. "Uh- Ha. I'll be sure to let him know, ha ha." "We should do dinner this week! Get to know each otha better, and you gotta introduce me to him!" She practically begged, pulling my hands into her lap again as she squeezed them, “And then of course the wrap party!” 'How is this my fucking life.' "Um, sure. I'm sure that can be arranged. Um, here, uh, if you put your number in my phone I can let you know when?" I pulled my phone out of my bag and handed it to her once I unlocked it and opened the contact add. She input her information and then pushed the selfie button for a picture, focusing us both in the shot. We made funny faces at each other and then she added it to her contact, sending herself a text from my phone. The meeting finished up quickly after that, them giving met he schedule of when they would need me on set and where to go and all of that, it would be a quick 3 days of getting a few shots for me and then I would be on my way back to Vancouver by the end of the week.

The idea of Anthony knowing where I was bugged the hell out of me all the way back to Norman’s apartment. My paranoia further increased when I could help but feel like someone was watching me as I exited the car and made my way up to the door. I rushed inside, slamming the wood behind me and instantly locking the dead bolts as fast as I could.

“You okay, doll?” Jeffrey asked, walking towards the entrance when he heard me come in.

“He knows I’m here.” I whispered, turning around slowly and pressing my back against the door, “Feels like someone’s followed me.”

His eyes instantly darkened as his brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

I sighed as I stepped away and walked towards him, pulling my phone out and opening the text message to show him. He read over it and his knuckles whitened around the device, threatening to crack the screen under his strength.

“I’m going to deal with this. Soon.” He growled, arms folding protectively around my shoulders as he pulled me to his chest, “He’s not getting to you again, baby girl. Trust me.”

I nodded as I leaned into him, fighting the scared tears that attempted to work their way over my eyelids. My arms circled around his waist, squeezing the comfort he brought into me the best I could.

He lead me into the kitchen where he lifted me onto one of the bar stools, leaving me there to pull open one of the drawers and extract a freshly rolled joint. He placed it in front of me on the bar counter with a lighter, which I quickly grabbed and held to my lips. With a wink from him I flicked the lighter as he turned back around to pull a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet with two glasses.

I passed the spliff to him as he moved my drink in front of me, replacing one for the other in my hand. I swallowed the amber liquid quickly, fighting the burn of the strong liquor as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as he chuckled.

“I love you, Ky.”

I smiled at him, “I love you too, handsome. Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Anytime, Sweetheart.”

Jeffrey ordered me security personnel for the rest of the week to escort me back and forth from rehearsal while I shot the few parts that were needed. Cardi herself had excellent security and once Jeffrey had explained to her the gist of the situation over dinner, she even made sure to order her own body guards to keep an eye on me too while we were around each other. Dinner with her was hilarious, she kept Jeff rolling the entire time with her bluntness and jokes, and we received several dirty looks from big wigs in Armani suits over our whoops and hollers.

Filming went fantastic, the director, Perf, loving everything that I was doing with the parts asked of me. Me flipping up side down and spinning around on a gold pole that apparently would appear to be on fire once editing was done, and of course the basic ‘sitting around a table with a guy with a lot of money’ shot. Cardi and the rest of the crew members constantly kept everything entertaining, though, and I felt like it was basically the same atmosphere as on set with my brothers.

We were at a loud New York nightclub for the wrap party taking up the whole VIP section with the group of people that followed Cardi around, having drink sand having fun for her last night in the city before she few out the next day. I wasn’t scheduled to return to Vancouver until 2 days later, in time to be back to work on Monday.

“Come with me to the bathroom, girl, I don’t know if I can’ make it on my own!” Cardi hollered over the loud music, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with her. I gave Jeff a quick kiss on the cheek before following her in the direction of the lady’s room. A body guard went to follow us but Cardi waved them off, saying that the bathroom was close and we needed a ‘girl moment.’

When we reached the private bathroom she immediately pulled me into the stall with her, shushing me when i made a surprised squeak

“Shhhh, girl, do you do coke?” she asked, digging through her bag and finding a small blue baggie.

“Uh, I mean, I used to, I haven’t in a while, though.”

“You want some?” She held her long acrylic powder filled pinky nail towards me.

“Um, no, not right now. I’ve never done it around Jeff and I really have never even talked to him about it. I wouldn’t be able to hide it from him.”

“No problem, girl, I gotchu.” She raised her finger to her own nose with a deep snort, inhaling the drug with ease. “Here, take this, talk to him about it when you get home tonight. Maybe he’ll do it with you and ya’ll can have some nasty fun.” She giggled and stuck her tongue out at me, causing me to shake my head and laugh as I took the baggie from her.

“Girl, I’ll definitely let you know how this goes.” I shoved the plastic bag in a zipper compartment of my purse for safe keeping.

We washed our hands and were making our way back to the table when I felt firm fingers grip my bicep tightly. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the familiar feeling of slime coated my entire body. I was jerked backward, pulling my hand out of Cardi’s that I had been holding.

“What the fuh- Who the fuck are you?” She demanded, flinging herself around and grabbing my hand again before I had a chance to even look up at my attacker, even though I already knew who it was.

Anthony didn’t let go either, though, and for a moment they played a small tug of war with me as I attempted to pull away from his grasp, “Let me the fuck go, Anthony!”

“KENDRICK!” Cardi screamed, still not letting go of my wrist as she alerted the security guard.

The scene didn’t last long, or at least it didn’t feel like it did, because before I knew what happened 2 very large men ripped Cardi and I away from Anthony and thrown into Jeffrey’s arms. He caught the both of us, arms around our waists as he pulled us away from the commotion

“What the fuck! Drag is ass, Ken! Now!” Cardi screeched, tears pricking her eyes in anger as Jeffrey held her back from charging forward.

“They’ve got em, girl, come on,” Jeffrey pulled her back into the circle of safety that had crowded around us to escort us out the building quickly. I didn’t turn around to see what the two men had done with Anthony.

“Was that the reason you needed security?” Cardi asked, catching her breath as we stood outside and waited for the valet to bring our cars around. I was clinging to Jeff, fighting back tears as my heart thudded in my chest. Jeffrey’s arms were curled around me protectively, and I felt his head nod against where he had it rested on the top of mine.

She nodded her own head in understanding, pursing her lips in discontent, as she rubbed my arm up and down, “Well, he’s gonna get his shit dragged around The Bronx for a little bit in the trunk, then Kendrick and Callem will make sure he knows not to fuck with any of my friends.”

I smiled as I sniffled, side of my face pressed against Jeff’s chest, “Thanks, girl.”

“I gotchu.”

Something deep down in my gut told met hat this wasn’t the last I’d see of Anthony, though.

“Are you okay?” Jeffrey asked as we sat in the back of the SUV on the way back to Norman’s apartment.

“Not really. Just kinda wanna forget.” I replied honestly, pushing myself closer into Jeffrey’s side.

“I’ll get a nice bath drawn when we get back, pour some wine, get you out of those uncomfortable shoes and that makeup off your face.”

“Sounds like heaven, Thank you, Jeffrey.” I cooed, loving that idea.

“Anytime, Sweetheart.”

“So, Cardi gave me some...party favors...” I began, shifting through my purse as Jeff ran the bathwater into the over-sized Jacuzzi tub.

“Oh yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow, “What kind of ‘party favors’?”

“Um, the nose candy kind?” I answered, revealing the small baggie in my hand.

Both of Jeffrey’s eyebrows shot up as he raised himself to his full height from where he had been bent down by the water, “Oh yeah? I haven’t partied like that in years.”

“Me either.” I chuckled, flicking the bag a couple of times to settle the contents at the bottom, “It’s not a lot, but should be enough for a little...” I trailed off realizing how close Jeff was standing to me, his arms boxing me in against the counter as I looked up into his chocolate eyes.

“Fun?” He finished my sentence for me, hunger taking over his already dark irises.

“Yeah....fun.” I breathed before he lowered his mouth to mine to tug on my bottom lip.

“Well, than, sugar, let’s have some fun...”

Part Nineteen (MID-SERIES FINALE) released 9/25/2017

#jdm fanfiction #jdm x ofc #jeffrey dean morgan x ofc #jeffrey dean morgan x oc #jdm x oc #jdm x reader #jdm x you #negan fanfiction #the walking dead rpf #jeffrey dean morgan rpf #jdm smut #smut #older man/ younger woman #older man x younger woman #jeffrey dean morgan smut #john winchester smut #supernatural rpf #supernatural fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction

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eene-fangirl · 7 years

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The Bloody Nose [An Ed, Edd n Eddy Fanfiction]

Note: I know I have posted and reblogged this about a thousand times but this piece will be going in with my creative thesis. If you could please read and leave a review that would be awesome! This is one of my favorite eene stories that I have written.

Eddy didn’t want to be in school that day, not like he wanted to be there any day of the week. Edd forced him out of his house that morning by sending Ed in on him and dragging him to school against his will. He should have just faked being sick to get out of the math test he was obviously going to fail. The day dragged with its usual slow pace. It was finally lunch time. He wasn’t able to enjoy this break as Edd was on his back trying to get him to study for the upcoming test. “And here is 5 divided by 75. Can you figure out this problem, Eddy?” Edd pestered. “Doubt it.” “Come on, Eddy. You set the problem up. Put the five outside the divided box. Now how many times does five go into seven?” Eddy stared at the problem. “How should I know? Seven’s bigger than five.” “Very good, Eddy. Now put a zero here. Now add 7 and 0 and now you can…” Eddy crumpled up the piece of paper. “This is useless! Why are teachers teaching us this stuff?”

“Eddy, that was easy. Just tell me what the answer could have been.” “Oh, oh, I know, pick me!” Ed yelled raising his voice into Edd’s ear. Edd wiped off the saliva from the side of his face, but still gave Ed a warm smile. “Yes, Ed, what is the answer?” “15!” Edd looked startled and calculated the problem. “Why, Ed, that was brilliant! How did you figure that out?” “Figure what out?” Ed dumbly laughed making his two friends roll their eyes. Much to Eddy’s dismay, the bell rang for next class. “I shoulda just faked being sick.” Eddy said on the way to class. “Now, Eddy, if you at least studied for tests you could get through this in a breeze. But, don’t cheat your way out of this.” “Cheat? When have I ever cheated?” Eddy said oblivious that he was already in the room. The teacher gave him her glare as he walked past to sit in his desk. Great, now he was going to be watched the whole time. The test was handed out. It had three pages. The teacher was expecting him to pass this? What a joke the school system was. Eddy scribbled against the paper, filling in random number. Guessing got you the correct answer once in a while. He slumped against his desk. Not even ten minutes went by. Something slid down from his nose. He wiped his hand against it. Eddy’s eyes bulged when he saw blood smeared on his hand. His heart pounded as he blocked the blood coming out. “Double D, you got any tissues?” Eddy whispered to his friend. Edd at first looked concerned, but then his look changed to being annoyed. “Really, Eddy? A fake nose bleed? That’s a new one.” “I ain’t foolin’, just get me…” “Shh, get back to work or the teacher will be angry.” Eddy turned to Ed, but didn’t both asking when he saw him shoving tissues through his nose and out his ear. “I’m a clown, Eddy.” Eddy felt his breath catch in his throat, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe. He waved his hand rapidly to get the teachers attention. Her face was hidden behind a magazine.

A drip of blood slid off his finger and landed on his test paper. In a second, Eddy ran out of the room. Edd shook his head. Why did Eddy have to do this? He was a smart kid, he was too lazy to show it.

The little red puddle caught Edd’s attention though. He used pretty convincing fake blood.

A realization came into Edd’s mind. Edd put on a rubber glove and dabbed it in the red puddle. He inspected it through his magnifying glass and sniffed it. Edd slumped in his chair. It was blood. Eddy was telling the truth. “Excuse me, may I use the restroom?” he asked.

Edd walked out into the hallway. “Eddy?” How could he mess up this big? He should know whenever Eddy was in trouble. He had that rare scared look in his eyes. Edd needed to find Eddy and fast.

Eddy burst through the door of the bathroom and yanked a paper towel out and threw it under his nose. He had to calm down. It was just a nose bleed. ‘You gonna give me that last cookie?’ 'No, I got it first.’ The blood was seeping all over the towel. He got rid of it and ripped another one out. 'Did you just say no to me?’ Yeah, what are you going to do about it?’ Blood dripped on his shirt. Eddy’s heart pounded even more as he tried to wet his shirt and tend to his nose at the same time. Eddy ripped one paper towel after another with no sign of his nose bleed coming to an end. 'Same thing I do to every kid who say no to me.’ 'uh… mom…” 'Mom and Dad are gone…“ Eddy felt as if he couldn’t breathe and for the fist time he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked as if he was in a horror movie. Blood dribbled into his mouth and it was the most awful taste ever. 'Now, did you learn you lesson about saying no to me?’ 'My nose…” 'Don’t worry, this is the best way to learn the hard way.’ Eddy reached for the last paper towel. Kevin stole it from him. “What’s wrong, Dorky? Spring a leak?” Eddy’s fingers gripped the counter. He didn’t have a paper towel to block the blood from coming out. The bottom half of his face slowly began to get covered in blood.

Blood dripped into the sink. Kevin saw this as a second chance to get back at Eddy for making fun of his fear of shots a week ago.

Kevin forcefully bent Eddy’s head down making him watch each drip of blood hit the sink. “Just keep holding your head down, dork. It’s better that way.” Eddy could see the vile smile, but then looked through the mirror and his image resembled his five year old self. “Drip…” Kevin taunted. 'What’s that, I hear a car in the driveway…’ “Drip…” 'Welp, I’m off, hope you learned your lesson, pipsqueak.’

Edd came running around the corner. He stopped upon noticing a blood stain on the door. “Eddy…” “Drip…” “Kevin!” Edd shouted appearing in the bathroom. “Can’t you see you’re traumatizing Eddy? Out, now!” he yelled only making Kevin chuckle to himself. Edd threw a new batch of tissues under Eddy’s nose and instructed him to hold his head back. “Calm down, Eddy. Everything is alright.” Edd said to Eddy. Edd put Eddy’s hands under the water so he could rinse the blood off. Eddy was barricading the tears in his head. He was being such a baby, overreacting about a dumb nose bleed. But, it was all over his shirt. He watched as the blood swirled around with the water and disappeared down the drain.

Edd held Eddy up when he noticed his friend becoming dizzy. “Come on, Eddy. let’s get you to the nurse.” Edd said guiding his friend into the hallway.

Almost everything was a blur to Eddy after that. The nurse tended to his nose for the longest time and never left his side. He answered questions about how long his nose bleed for and if he was dizzy or not.

His head hurt and his legs felt heavy whenever he stood up. He almost felt sick to his stomach. His heart continued to pound. He stumbled his words as his hands continued to shake.

Edd stayed by his side the whole time. He refused to go back to class wanting to make sure his friend was okay. He talked about how Kevin taunted Eddy in the bathroom. The chance of Kevin being in trouble made Eddy feel a little better.

Eddy stared up at the ceiling in the little room. His brother hitting him happened when he was five and yet it would never leave his mind. He lied on the floor for almost a half hour before his parents came in the door. That was weeks before his parents ordered his brother out of the house. Edd entered the room with his belongings. “Here are your belongings, Eddy. Your mother will be here soon.” “My mother?” This was the fist time Eddy said something. He noticed how frightened he sounded. “The nurse doesn’t believe it’s a good idea for you to stay in school. You lost a lost of blood. This is only for safe precautions. Eddy felt relieved that he got his wish, but he didn’t want it to be this way. "Would you like a glass of water, Eddy?” Eddy wasn’t able to keep the glass steady. Edd patted his shoulder. Eddy didn’t know what to say. He noticed how they’d been fighting a lot lately. Edd was a true friend through the ups and downs. If only he could have been there during that time when his brother… Eddy didn’t want to think about that because the tears were creeping into his eyelids. “Sorry, I made you miss your test.” He said to Double D. “It’s no trouble, Eddy. I can finish it after school.” Just then Eddy’s mother showed up. She showed deep concern when she looked at Eddy. “Oh, Eddy…” “I’m okay, mom, really.” The nurse had Eddy’s mother step into her office to talk while Edd helped Eddy put on his coat. “Now just go home and get some rest. Don’t do any physical activity or you’ll only make your nose…” “Hey!” Eddy interrupted making Edd jump. His rambling was making Eddy more annoyed, especially in this state of mind. “Thanks.” The two friends stared at one another. It was rare whenever Eddy thanked him. “You’re welcome, Eddy. Ed and I could come by after school if you want us to.” Eddy smiled and he left with his mother.

It was a quiet ride home. “Eddy, if you need to talk to me about what happened, we can. I know nose bleeds have a…” “Mom, I’m fine. I just want to forget about it.” Eddy curled up in his pillow and closed his eyes. With sleep the day’s events slowly began to fade. He knew everything was better once his friends jumped on his bed to cheer him up.

#Ed Edd n Eddy #eene #eene fanfiction #EddEddy #the eds

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elstonsblog · 5 years

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May – Aug

In my last reflection, I spoke about doing a mix of larger and smaller pieces of work, Childs Alphabet etc. I think those months set me up nicely for what I've created/been part of between May-August. Over these 4 months, there have been dips in creating work due to doing things other than the drawing which has slowed down my progression of skills/experimentation. These dips haven’t impacted my 3x week posting schedule on social media but more the larger personal projects that needed to be chipped away at... haven’t been started. I hope to change this in October, I would say September but we’re already halfway through it so September will be used as a buffer month to get everything back in order before I get going properly again.

My goals in my last reflection were:

Put the work in to ensure a successful exhibition in July

Spend time working on targets set

Find and talk to some local creatives

Put together a PDF Portfolio

Start putting together a self-promo pack

And I've completed the following:

Put the work in to ensure a successful exhibition in July

Find and talk to some local creatives

Put together a PDF Portfolio

The Land + Sea exhibition took a lot of time and preparation, I spent 7 weeks of evenings on just making the artwork. I ended up with 4 a3 giclee prints and 48 a5 hand-drawn pieces to be displayed along with my mum's paintings. The event was short but well-received. The work I created was purposely made to sell so I drew more common seaside themes (beach huts, fishermen, sea creatures, seaside scenes and boats) to suit the space we were exhibiting and the audience of the village.

The making on the a3 scenes was done using my normal process, the pieces had more elements to them than I usually put in and it was interesting to see how that affected the workflow and timescale of making them. I printed them on Giclee so that the colour vibrancy stayed close to what it looked like on the screen. Photo rag paper feels nice too. I’ll print using Giclee again, the downfall is that every print is individual and there isn't a way of doing multiples without spending out a lot of cash in advance.

At the start of preparing for the exhibition, I was conscious that I hadn't drawn anything just by hand for quite a while and I felt that it was something I needed to get my confidence back up with so I decided for the a5 images that they would all be hand-drawn. I used rag paper, ink and gouache paint to keep the colours as bright as they would have been digital. I made 12 pieces in each of the 4 topics (beach huts, fishermen, sea creatures & boats). I gave myself a week to complete 12 drawings and repeated that until all 48 were done. It was a quick turnaround which meant I didn’t overthink it but I also would say that they’re not my best work – having 12 of each gave room for variety within the area and it was interesting to see which ones different people liked the most. It’s funny my favourite ones to do were the sea creatures yet the people that came preferred the beach huts and fishermen. Some feedback during the show was that the set looked most impactful when they were shown together, it could be that I create a print with all individual’s on – this would only really work for the beach huts and fishermen as the size of each person/hut is similar. This is something I'm not in a rush to do during the winter months, but I will return to this for the start of spring.

I think it was a good thing to have done as it helped me to see a physical audience and test what people like and dislike. The process of making for it kept my focus and showed that if I want to, I can chip away at larger pieces/projects rather than always making small fast work.

In August I started putting together a portfolio and website which made me take stock of what I'd created during the year. It was good to do this, but I quickly realised that I'd made a lot of images and not many of them had been shaped into projects/outcomes, so it looked sparse compared to my social media accounts. Also, that pretty much everything I've done has been personal projects and competitions as I haven’t reached out and contacted anyone about doing work for them. This needs to change. I need to start putting myself out there. I’m happy with how my portfolio is currently looking in terms of flow/work - I would like to add some basic animation into the pdf document to make it more engaging, once this is done, I will send be sending it out. I need to put the time into researching who and where I could get work - I know that it’s best to start with editorials so in the coming months I will research into art directors. I’m still under the impression that it is best to send out physical things to spark interest rather than be just another email. This is something that I also want to work on, this will take more time as I would expect that the physical work needs to be more specific and personally addressed to them. I know I'm going around in circles and I need to cut the crap and just email people. If that doesn’t work, then try something new rather than thinking I need to do everything at the same time, and it needs to be perfect. I need to see it as a process as currently, I'm getting nowhere. This 'business’ side doesn’t come naturally to me I'd quite happily be in a cave and draw for the rest of time if I could but that’s just not how it works.

In some parts of May-Aug, my inspiration levels were running dry, so I started looking further afield for inspiration. I realised when drawing an Egyptian god for work that all the documentation of ancient Egypt was people drawn sideways – which is also my favourite angle to draw people. so I took a trip to the British Museum to draw lots of wall carvings. I focussed more on Assyria’s carvings, copying the poses but modernising them with sliders and socks and trying to think about what they’d be saying to each other. I hadn’t mixed in much speech in my drawings for a long while, and.. I think to do it well takes a practice that I haven’t been doing – I don’t make much in terms of comics/narrative pieces. I would like to stretch this muscle a bit more as after going to Hackney Comic and Zine fair I got hyped about comics again so I'm trying not to let the inspiration for it fizzle out before I start doing something. I think the images were successful, but the text/speech was too fragmented for a narrative. This is something I want to work on as zines/comics are great things and I need to start making them so that I can take them to stalls.

During these 4 months, my process has continued to naturally refine for digital work (adding in illustrator as part of making). I have started to realise a reliance on compositing the images digitally. For example, when I draw by hand, I draw separate elements to then digitally fit together. This has both benefits and disadvantages; it makes pieces more editable and saves the time of me trying to draw it perfect all in one. The downside is that I'm over-relying on this and barely ever now drawing something fully for fear of messing up. I’m going to start combatting this again by making sure I add more work into my flash book. (My flash book is a photo album that I use to hold and store fully drawn pieces of work so that someday I can tattoo them on people).

I think since January my work and confidence overall have grown a lot. I’ve found a variety of colours I like using and I'm surer in the work I'm producing. I have seemed to stay very close to my Berol pen, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. I have been finding it easier to define my work/ approach:

I’m an Essex based Illustrator raised on a steady diet of cartoons and loud music; both of those things have influenced my approach to illustration. I like to communicate using block colour and bold lines to express what is being said with confidence.

In my practice, I try to articulate the workings of my mind in relation to the ‘real’ world with the hope to examine and display my presence. I’ve always been intrigued with different ways of communicating, stories, morals and ideas. I get a lot of inspiration from songs, books and the mundane around me and use this information to help formulate an idea for a piece of work.

I’ve grown to realise that I learn best by doing, so throughout the process of idea to the final piece, it can be revised, shaped and moulded until it looks and feels right. Projects are worked out methodically in terms of the steps that need to be done to create the outcome, what it is I’m trying to achieve and how best to communicate that through the medium used. A lot of the time, projects give me a chance to find new inspirations through researching an area that I’m not familiar with, this along with my existing interests feed into the outcome.

I would say in my most recent work the overarching theme is a positive retaliation to the current socio/political climate that we’re living in. Within that, there are sub-strands of my work focusing on mental health, politics and societal intangible needs; using what’s around me and trying to draw out something hopeful so that the final pieces communicate positive messages.

But I am still struggling to understand where and how I fit into illustration work. I hope this will come with time and perseverance.

Overall, these last few months have been productive. I’ve done work that I wouldn’t usually do and I'm slowly creeping out from under my rock. I think it’s hard to reflect on such a large amount of time properly, so I'll try not to leave so much time between each time, next time. I think a shorter one every month will be more beneficial for me going forward to recap and set my focus for the coming month.

Going forward my plans for October are:

To complete Inktober and make it into a zine

Go to 2 Drink and Draw sessions

Find 10 suitable art directors/contacts

Start working on a comic

Spend time working on targets set

Plan out Christmas merch plan and start making

Apply to guardian competition

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riichardwilson · 4 years

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It’s Good To Talk: Thoughts And Feelings On Creative Wellness

About The Author

Jhey makes awesome things for awesome people! He’s a web developer with almost 10 years of experience. Working with and for names such as Eurostar, Uber, … More about Jhey …

With so much pressure to be our best selves and use every waking moment to develop skills, it’s easy to lose track of our own wellbeing. Self-improvement and commitment to your craft are great — but only if you find the right balance.

In fields as fast-paced and technical as web design and development, it’s easy to lose sight of our own wellbeing. For many, there’s a constant sense of trying to keep up or ahead. We may not even realize we’re doing it.

Ask yourself, when was the last time you stepped away for a day and didn’t think about coding or design for a day? For me, that’s very hard to answer. For many, it’s a vocation that we can’t switch on and off. We can’t turn it off at 5 or 6 PM. Let’s talk about that and ways we can deal with it.

It’s important to start right off the bat by saying this article isn’t a dictation. The aim here is to spark interest, engagement, and discussion. These are things that sometimes get lost in the whirlwind industry we are a part of. Different things work for different people, and these words are written with the best intentions.

Why now? I’d planned to write something about this topic at the tail end of last year. I was making my way back from my first NodeConfEU and feeling inspired by a talk I attended, “Building Open Source Communities with Tierney Cyren”.

I made a bunch of notes, then life and other commitments cropped up and the article made its way to the backburner. But, that’s OK. And that’s kind of where this post leads us to. It’s OK if you didn’t write that post, work on that side project this weekend, and so on.

Pressure Culture

If you’re reading this, odds are you’ve seen or experienced pressure culture — that constant, nagging expectation to dedicate every waking hour to skills development and side projects, even if your heart might not be in it. This pressure can be self-imposed, and whether we like it or not social media also plays a big part. If we aren’t careful, it can eat away at us.

Pressure culture isn’t something that’s popped up recently. It’s been around a long time, a constant looming external force. Left unchecked it can fill you with guilt, anxiety, and other feelings we aren’t fond of.

Work/Play balance by The Awkward Yeti. (Image source: theawkwardyeti.com) (Large preview)

This is a common result of the idea of ‘The ideal worker,’ with pressure coming from those higher up in workplace hierarchies. These ‘Never say no’ employees feel obliged to wear themselves thin in order to progress in their careers. There’s a great Harvard Business Review article called “Managing the High-Intensity Workplace” that explores this mindset.

Social media pressure is also very real. The tendency to idealize our online lives is well documented. We often forget that we are likely only looking at someone else’s highlight reel. That is true of work as well as play. If we forget that and spend a lot of time-consuming content from those we idolize, that pressure creeps in. We want to be as awesome as the people on our feed, but at what cost?

There was a period a little while back where tweets like this were quite frequent:

Get home.

Watch Netflix or do more coding learning?

Seems like a small decision.

For one night it is.

But multiplied over a year, this decision defines your future.

— 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗚𝗲𝗲𝗸 (@WellPaidGeek) November 6, 2019

The message is completely understandable. Time is valuable. The hard truth is that if you want to get far in your career, prepare to put in the hours. Nothing gets handed out. Self-improvement and commitment to your craft are great, but only if you find the right balance.

Messages like those above put you under an enormous amount of pressure. That pressure isn’t healthy, and can actually hamper your development. It can lead to things like burnout and potentially, even depression. What is burnout? This study phrases it quite well:

“Burnout is a psychological syndrome characterized by emotional exhaustion, feelings of cynicism and reduced personal accomplishment.”

It’s not a nice place to be. I can speak from experience here. Feeling as if things are bearing down on you and you need to keep up. “I need to make that new thing or learn that new framework to keep up with my peers.” I remember seeing tweets from people. They’d say things like, “I missed a day of my bootcamp course. I’d better do double tonight.” This makes for sad reading. You don’t want to end up resenting what you do for a job.

Burnout cannot only impact your personal wellbeing, but can also affect other areas of your life. Does your work suffer as a result? Do you still have the energy to give it your full attention? How about that creative spark? Is it gone? We’ve all heard of writer’s block. Well, creative’s block is a thing too!

The above tweet was a great example of how social media can influence us. Read the responses and engagement. There’s an almost 50⁄50 split on how it’s perceived. This response from Chris Coyler was great:

I don’t mind the sentiment here, but don’t burn out!https://t.co/Ho7CPcamEb

Just last night I had some stuff in mind I really wanted to get done on the ol laptop but I was just too tired after putting the kid down so I literally watched Netflix and everything will be ok

— Chris Coyier (@chriscoyier) November 6, 2019

And it’s so true. It’s OK to sit back and not force yourself to work on things. It’s fine to take the night off, the week off, and so on. Those projects will still be there for you. They’re not going anywhere. You might even decide you don’t want to return to them at all, and that’s fine too! It’s all about balance.

With the pandemic and many of us in lockdown, this trend has reared its head again. I’ve seen my fair share of messages implying if you haven’t picked up new skills with your new free time, you’ve wasted it. As if it’s some kind of opportunity. Not that a global pandemic is exhausting enough right?

Hopes and Dreams by The Awkward Yeti. (Image source: theawkwardyeti.com) (Large preview)

Even now, pressure culture is not black and white. The free time gained where we had other commitments is an opportunity. An opportunity to try something new or do something we haven’t had the time for. It might be that that thing is ‘rest’. For me, my weekend commitments halted, so I decided to finally start streaming. And, I’ve loved it! Still, I try not to let it take up more time than my other commitments would. If it gets too much, I take a break and step away.

Handling Pressure Culture

Getting AFK (Away from keyboard)

How can we combat these feelings of pressure? It sounds like the opposite of what our minds tell us, but one way is to get away from that keyboard. Disconnect and go do something else. I’m not saying lock up your laptop for a week and go cold turkey, but a break does you good.

Go for a walk, read a book, do nothing! We already saw that Chris enjoys a night with Netflix! I myself recently picked up a stylus for the iPad so I can go chill out on a bean bag and sketch doodles. There’s also a 1000 piece puzzle laid out on a table downstairs that’s quite good to sit next to zone out with.

Yes, it’s difficult at the moment. We can’t make a trip to the theme park or the cinema or even hit the gym. But, we can still get AFK. Even sporadic breaks throughout the day can do you wonders. I often get up every once in a while and do a few handstands!

This is true even when the world isn’t in crisis. Getting away from things can be great for you. It’s not healthy to tie yourself to the same thing 24 hours a day. Step back, broaden your scope, and appreciate that there’s so much more on offer for you. Close this tab and get away now if you’d like. I’d prefer it if you stuck around until the end, though.

Getting AFK pic.twitter.com/tXSxB52gLk

— Jhey (@jh3yy) June 14, 2020

It might not even be a case of getting physically AFK either. There’s a Slack community I’m in that has this notion of ‘fun laptop time’ which is an interesting idea. Have a separate machine that you can unwind on or do other things on. One that isn’t logged in to social media perhaps? One that you can do ‘fun’ things on. Maybe that is still coding something or creative writing or watching a live stream. The possibilities are endless.

Give yourself space to live away from your work. This article on Lifehacker cites the case that taking up something new can help with burnout. I can relate to that too. Scheduling something completely unrelated to work is quite good at this. For me, I know when the season is in full swing, I’ll be spending some of my Saturdays AFK running around a field.

Footballlll! 🥳 pic.twitter.com/0c1XEIQMBu

— Jhey (@jh3yy) July 14, 2020

With AFK, we’re mainly referring to sitting at a desk with a physical keyboard. Odds are, if you have a smartphone, the little digital one on that isn’t far away. A FOMO tip that might seem counterintuitive is to share being AFK. Share what you’re up to with people. It might surprise you how much people appreciate seeing others getting AFK. Rachel’s been plane spotting for example!

Just picked this up on my PiAware tracker and watched it go overhead. https://t.co/MHPoXlPzmZ

— Rachel Andrew (@rachelandrew) May 28, 2020

Please Talk

And that leads us to the title of this post. It’s good to talk. Is there a stigma attached to talking about our feelings and struggles? Yes. Should there be? Hell no!

FOMO, burnout, depression, anxiety, and so on. They’re all real things and likely touch more of us than we know. I listen to various podcasts. I remember one in which the speaker and guest spoke about almost an obsession with chasing goals. When you reach that goal, you hit a low. Maybe it didn’t fill that void you were hoping for? But, although I wasn’t having a conversation with them, hearing that did me some good. It was relatable.

I’d had this feeling inside, never expressing it. Now I knew it wasn’t uncommon. So I spoke about it with other people, and they could relate too. One big example for me was buying my house. It had been a goal for a year or so to get on the property ladder. Once I got the keys, it was a bit deflating. But, I should’ve been super happy about it.

Return of Me by The Awkward Yeti. (Image source: theawkwardyeti.com) (Large preview)

We could all bottle those things up. But, speaking about things and getting your thoughts out can go some way in taking the pressure off. Another perspective can really help you out! It might be hearing something as little as ‘I do that too’ or ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re doing great!’ that can go a long way. It’s not that you’re fishing for compliments, but it sometimes takes that other perspective to bring you back to reality.

Now don’t get me wrong. Talking about things is easier said than done, but the results might surprise you. Based on my own experience and others I’ve spoken to, here are some things you can do to combat those negative feelings.

Be willing to take the first step. Interaction doesn’t have to be a dying art. It won’t work for everyone and you can’t force others to embrace it. There will be those who do, though, people who feel exactly the same and were looking for someone to talk to.

Speak more openly. I’ve personally been terrible at this and I don’t mind admitting it. I’m getting better though. I speak more openly with those I engage with both on and offline and I’m happier for it. The takeaway being that there’s no shame in being yourself and doing what you want to do. If you’re being made to feel that way, it could be a good time to shift your circle or change up those you engage with. One nifty tip if you work remotely and feel isolated during the day is to set a reminder for yourself. For example, set a reminder every day at noon to reach out to people. This is quite effective. Most IM services can do this. For example, with Slack: /remind me "Reach out to people!" every weekday at 12:00 pm

If it can’t be offline, take it online. You don’t have to speak to people in person. Hop on a call with someone. Or even a video call. There are also so many online communities out there now too. If you don’t want to talk about how you feel, it’s great to even talk about what you’re up to or hear what others are up to. You soon realize people aren’t churning 24 hours a day like social media might have you think. I’ve recently joined an online community of creatives on Discord. I must say, it’s been brilliant. The Party Corgi network has been a game changer for me.

Broaden your scope. It’s so easy to lose track and become so focussed on your own little circle. I ended up randomly hopping around Twitch the other day. And I sat there and thought to myself, “This is brilliant”. There are so many creatives out there doing fantastic things, things I wasn’t even aware of. Why do I get so fixated on my own little bubble?

One tip that trumps all others? Be humble. You gain more from being positive. Good vibes breed good vibes. Plus, no one likes a hater.

To Conclude

It’s completely normal to feel a sense of pressure or get that horrible ‘imposter syndrome.’ But, don’t let it get to you. Do what you can and what you want to. Don’t sacrifice your health to get ahead. It’s OK to step away sometimes.

The next time you feel a little overwhelmed with things and feel that pressure coming for you. Have a chat with a family member, reach out to a colleague, even an online acquaintance. Maybe share it with folks at Smashing? I love seeing what people get up to.

If this is a career you plan on sticking with, what’s the rush? You might be doing this for tens of years. Embrace your journey. It’s not a race. For one thing, you might not even be on the same road.