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#sketched this out over like a year ago and i finally got around to painting it LOLZ
hh0320 · 2 years
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☆ 🖇️ 𖥻 <꒱
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— 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
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pairing: art school! hyunjin x fem! reader (+felix)
genre: light enemies to lovers, love at first sight, angst, smut, barista (y/n).
warnings: profanity, jealousy, mature themes, chainsmoker hyunjin, unprotected sex, mentions of death (very brief).
word count: 4.6k
🏷 : @ughbehavior ty sm for your help! 🤍
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i. 08:43am
Hyunjin was contemplating murder.
“You’re holding up the line, hotshot,” he deadpanned, burning holes in the dude’s back.
Awful pick up line cut in half, the man of the hour turned around, eyeing Hyunjin’s stoic face.
Well, not so much eyeing, all things considered. More like looking up, intimidation failing to quite…reach. Hyunjin wasn’t the tallest of men, standing at 5’ 10’’, but this guy was a fucking joke.
You couldn’t seriously be entertaining him.
Hyunjin grinned down at him, honeycomb hair falling in his eyes. “Scutter along, playboy.”
The man was too stunned to speak, grabbing his drink and fucking off to wherever he’d come from. Fucking finally.
You weren’t amused, to say the least, but then again, you never were when it came to him. Instead, you glared. Hard.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled warmly at you, hands resting against the counter, arms flexing.
Your gaze dropped to the veins popping through his skin. You blinked, once, twice—ah, there it was, Hyunjin thought.
That rosy blush that painted your cheeks every time he did that—it made him weak inside. He wanted to see you blush for him, but in a different setting entirely.
Specifically, under him—
“What can I get you, Hyunjin? Surely you don’t come just to scare away my customers,” you snarled, wiping the espresso machine.
He ignored your little comment. “And, surely, you, my angel, know my order by now.”
He noticed the way your breath caught at the pet name, enjoying watching you make his coffee, flustered, avoiding his stare.
It had started as harmless teasing; freshman Hyunjin had walked into this small coffee shop, craving an iced americano, sketchbook in hand, excited about starting art school.
And then you’d turned around, and— well. Well. Hyunjin had never been in love, but he was pretty sure that was fucking it. You’d ruined him for any other person.
Too bad you hated his fucking existence. He’d tried his best everyday, to be soft, to tone down that damn sarcasm that always got him in trouble. He left you generous tips, came to hang out after or in between classes, sketching away as he stole glances at you.
You had called him a stalker, and he’d laughed in your face.
“A psychopath, then,” you’d claimed.
“Only for you, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me your name?”
“Fuck off.”
He’d smirked at you, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ll take my time breaking you, angel.”
“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy.”
So he did. And, fuck, has it been fun, because he could see, underneath the tough exterior, and adorable mean faces, you secretly loved it. The attention he gave you, his overprotective ness of you, how jealous he’d get when boys would try to flirt with you.
You knew, deep down—you belonged with him. You did ever since he found you, almost two years ago.
Hyunjin carried himself with a sort of elegant arrogance; popularity had come to him easy. His talent was unmatchable—a product of numerous hours of hard work; acrylics, oils, coal, he’d practiced it all, and he can’t not admit that it had been lonely, locked inside a room, thoughts turned into color, painting becoming an undistinguishable extension of him.
Had the brushes and the pencils, and the papers not been there, he wouldn’t have survived. Perhaps, some thought that to be an over exaggeration , but there had been nothing else for him, except this.
The smell of graphite, the hard callouses whispering of softwood—blank, textured paper waiting to be filled. All he’s known.
And then you. His coffee shop girl.
ii. 15:31pm
“Put that out, it’s disgusting,” you commented, picking up after a table that had just left.
Hyunjin sat by the door, smoking, sipping on his coffee. Sun out, and a pleasant wind blowing, his sketchbook lay open on the pavement.
“What do I get if I do?” He dared, turning to you.
You had a beautiful neck, he’d always thought so. Sometimes he thought you did it on purpose; clipping your hair away, exposing it. He wanted to leave open mouthed kisses along the side, just below your ear, traveling down to your collarbone—
Hyunjin looked away, tongue licking against the inside of his cheek, and took a drag of his cigarette.
You mused over his question, tray in hand. “I don’t know, a longer life span, maybe?” You said sarcastically.
He hummed, chuckling. “Tempting as it is, sweetheart, I’ll pass.”
You raised your eyebrows, taking him in. Mid length, soft looking hair, sunglasses hiding, what you know to be dark brown eyes, an oversized t-shirt, and blue jeans, with black vans. Rings adorning long fingers.
Picture perfect boyfriend material.
And yet, he got on your last nerve every time he opened his mouth. You couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly—maybe the relentless flirting, or the smugness of him. But it was a shame, because he—
Well, he was fucking hot.
You shook your head, denying your own thoughts.
“Suit yourself, prince. That’s just what I think,” you went to pass by him, to go inside, but his hand shot out to stop you, grabbing your wrist.
You gasped, trying to balance the tray in your palm again, and looked down at him angrily.
“Are you fucking crazy, Hyunjin? All these glasses could’ve smashed on your head!”
He smiled at that, moving his sunglasses to the top of his head, squinting up at you. His hand was warm against your skin.
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it—
“I would, for you,” he said. “Quit. I would do it for you.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you went to pull away from his grasp. He let you, that same smile staying on his full lips.
Your heart skipped several beats, bewildered. He confused the hell out of you, with his pet names, and longing looks. But you couldn’t ignore your mind, telling you what a bad idea it was to let such a person in.
He’d ruin you. There was no getting over someone like Hwang Hyunjin, that you were sure of.
Later, when he brought his empty coffee mug inside, he left a piece of paper underneath it.
Pretending to clean, you avoided him, making sure he was well gone before taking a peak at what it was.
A sketch of you—of your profile, more like, pouring a shot of espresso in a to go cup, colored in innocent pastel markers.
There your heart went again, betraying you. You looked around, before shoving the picture in your bag, dusting off your apron, awkwardly.
You hated Hwang Hyunjin. He was conceited, and pompous—he thought everything revolved around him. Talented, no question, but you wouldn’t fall for it.
You wouldn’t fall for him, period. You absolutely refused.
iii. 09:02am
Lee Felix would be your new coworker, your manager announced, and went back to his receipts.
“Train him good, yeah?”
You remained in your place behind the counter, broom in hand, staring at his blonde head and constellation freckles.
“Hi, (Y/N)!” He waved at you, beaming, as he grabbed an apron, and awaited instructions.
You knew Lee Felix—he was Hyunjin’s best friend, from what you’d gathered. At times, they’d walk in together, one iced americano, one strawberry smoothie, looking like they’d just jumped out of a magazine cover, and it would be very hard not to gape at them the whole time.
Felix was the extreme opposite of Hyunjin; this boy was made of the purest sunlight, the kindest customer you’ve ever had. He always asked how you were, and made small talk with you, as his friend scowled, and stared at you. Felix didn’t give borderline creepy vibes, unlike some—he was a genuinely sweet person, that always managed to make your day simply by smiling your way.
But—he hated coffee, always complained that the smell of it made him nauseous, so—what was he doing, working here?
You couldn’t help but be suspicious of his motives. You hoped it had nothing to do with a certain ‘I’d quit for you’ boy.
Not that everything had to do with him—
Ugh. Thinking of that interaction had your stomach doing backflips, and you weren’t certain if that was good or bad.
“Hey, star shine,” you gave him a small smile. “Ready to learn?”
He wasn’t horrible. He caught on fast, and tried his best, but the menu was long, and the recipes extensive, so it would take him a while no matter how bright he was. Not to mention working the espresso machine, something that had troubled you greatly—working with you he’d be okay, but if he ever was to open by himself... Suffice to say, you’d have your hands full for a bit.
Around lunch time, you made him his signature smoothie as a reward. Felix perked up at it, putting the straw between his lips, and chugging the entire thing.
“You’re the best,” he said, watching you prepare some pick up orders, back turned to the door.
“Eh… I’ve just worked here for too long,�� you replied, simply, looking up when the little bell signaled a new customer.
“I got it! Hello, how—Hyun!”
Fuck. You put the Frappuccino’s in the cooler, filling plastic cups with ice. Anything to distract you.
“My two favorite people working together, huh?”
Felix laughed, leaning across the counter to greet his friend. You couldn’t help it, then, you caved.
Hyunjin was standing tall, and handsome, in his workshop overalls, paint all over them, a white t-shirt underneath, hair away from his face, in a half bun.
You nearly gave in. No person should be allowed to look that effortlessly good, especially when that person was supposed to be the enemy.
But why? Why did he have to be? Sure, he had a big ego, and rattled your nerves incessantly, but—that surely wasn’t reason enough?
You realized then, there was no justifiable cause for your hatred towards him. You just convinced yourself to dislike him, shoving him in a box and keeping him there, just cause of a smart comment he’d made when he first met you.
That was years ago.
Your heart told you it wouldn’t be for long. You can only deny the truth for so long.
Fuck.
iv. 18:10pm
Locking the shop, you threw the keys in your bag, turning to walk to the bus station.
You would’ve done exactly so, if you hadn’t noticed Hyunjin sitting on the stairs outside his school, cigarette in hand, sketching away. Normally, you’d leave him to it—many evenings he sat there, in his own world.
But today, he looked upset.
It’s none of my business—
But what if he needs someone?
Felix had classes, where is he at?
Sighing, you clenched your bag closer to your body, and crossed the street. You closed the distance between you, careful not to scare him, and even then you second guessed yourself.
You weren’t entirely sure why you felt responsible to fix his mood. But Hyunjin was rarely so visibly distressed, in all the time you knew him. He’d fake anger, sure, when he kicked male customers out with his snarky comments, and mean looks, but you’d never seen him this closed up.
You silently sat down next to him, peaking at his sketchbook. He was outlining the wings of a very intricate butterfly, tobacco ashes smudging the page.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, not once lifting his head.
“Hey…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to say. “What are you doing?”
He brought the cigarette to his lips, hair sheltering his face. His pencil continued its way to the main body of the butterfly, slightly shading the edges of the wings.
“Making a gift.”
A gift? You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “It looks pretty.”
He exhaled through his nose, smoke coming out of his nostrils. Then, he finally tilted his head towards you, face supported by his hand.
Your mouth opened, and closed. Hyunjin was sad—the kind that withered flowers, brought clouds, and caused rain.
You did not like seeing him like this, at all. You’d much prefer the cocky boy that was obsessed with bitter coffee, if that meant he got to keep smiling.
Perhaps, you cared about Hwang Hyunjin more than you let on. Perhaps, that terrified you.
“Why are you here, angel? Thought you hated me,” he said, putting the cigarette butt out.
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
He stared at you, unblinking, and then moved ever so slightly, ever so slowly—
He kissed you.
And it was many things, but his lips tasted like smoke and mint, his lips were soft and plumb against yours—he kissed you like he didn’t mean to, but couldn’t help himself, guarded and yet entirely at your mercy.
You kissed back. And you understood, then—you’ve always loved him.
Always dreaded him.
It very much felt like hate.
His hands cupped your cheeks, softly caressing the skin with his thumbs, his hair tickling you, his breath mixing with your own. You fall, and fall, fall fall fall, leaning deeper into the kiss, into him, and he lets you, guides you, opens the door greeting you warmly—
This is what I’ve been feeling for you. This is what I feel, and for the longest time I thought you felt nothing.
You pulled back, getting up suddenly. Losing your footing, you almost collapse on top of him, but he holds you up by your arm. You’re panting, denying, denying, denying, scared, fucking shaking, because—
What if you lost him? What if it ended? You’d build your walls up, keeping him out for this exact reason.
No one gets over someone like Hwang Hyunjin.
You had caved in, and you had lost already.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you told him, overwhelmed, panicking.
He looked at you from his place at the stairs, unmoving, quiet.
“You shouldn’t have—you—I,” you took a deep breath, willing your thoughts to make sense, “I hate you, I—I’m sorry, I just wanted to see if you’re alright.”
Hyunjin took his time closing his sketchbook, while you stumbled over your words. He took out his lighter, lighting what would be the last cigarette of his pack, taking a long drag of it, meanwhile never taking his eyes off of your embarrassed figure.
You were blushing profusely, looking at anything but him.
“I’m alright, sweetheart,” he finally replied. “Are you?”
You had to leave. “I’m sorry, I can’t—”
Hyunjin watched you go in a hurry. And even though, you freaked out and ran away from him, the fact that you kissed back made all the difference.
v. 08:35am
The next day, Felix opened with you, so he could begin to learn the routine of the morning shift.
Hyunjin didn’t come in, as he usually did on a Thursday. If Felix knew something, he didn’t say, instead focusing on grinding coffee beans, merrily humming to the song that played low throughout the shop.
After a rush—students getting their caffeine fix before classes started—it was just you and Felix again, wiping surfaces, and cutting cake slices for the display.
You had to ask. You had to ask, because it was killing you. You didn’t sleep a wink, instead running through the events of the stairs. You could still feel Hyunjin on your lips, even after washing your face, even when hours passed, and you lay wide awake on your twin sized bed, praying he would seep through your skin, at last, so you wouldn’t feel the ghost of him remaining.
“I have a question.” You braced for impact, thinking this would definitely get back to Hyunjin.
Felix threw an irresistible smile at you, waiting. “Shoot!”
You chewed on your lip, before breathing deeply. “I saw Hyunjin yesterday, by the stairs… Is—is he okay? He looked sad.”
Felix pursed his lips, and took a sip of his smoothie. “His mom’s one year death anniversary was yesterday.”
What? Oh my God. And you made it all about you, telling him you hated him, and disappearing on him after he took a risk kissing you!
You were a horrible person. If anything, you were the self absorbed one—you’d never asked, never cared—if he was okay, if he was having a good day. Yet, he always did.
In his own way. But he did, nonetheless.
“He never told you?”
You shook your head.
“I’m guessing he didn’t want you to pity him. He really likes you, you know.”
To that, you nodded, shamefully. “I do, too.”
Felix raised his eyebrows, smirking. “About damn time, no?”
“Now how about you tell him that?”
vi. 19:47pm
On Saturday, Hyunjin showed up just as you were about to close.
Dressed in jeans, and a band tee, hair wet falling across his forehead, he waited patiently by the door, while you gathered your stuff, lollipop hanging from his mouth.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, as you moved past him.
Shop closed for the day, you two walked side by side, in comfortable silence. The sky was a thousand colors, and the weather was warm—life didn’t feel real, with him by you, like this.
“What’s with the lollipop?” You asked, trying hard not to look at him directly.
It was unfair to look that good sucking on candy.
“I quit smoking.”
‘I’d do it. For you.’
After everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to act as you did before, around him. It had seemed forever ago that your feelings for him were hostile.
You were incredibly ashamed of how you’d treated him. Everyone’s fighting a silent war, used to be something you’d tell yourself everyday, going through high school, but there you were, not giving the time of day to a guy that, if you were being totally honest, protected you from weirdo’s on the daily.
Challenged you, made your days interesting just by lightly teasing you. He never crossed a line, never insulted you.
“What’s that you got there?” He asked you, changing the subject, looking at the bag you were carrying.
You looked at it, too, remembering it was there. “Oh! Strawberry cake. It came fresh today, and I wanted to try it.”
You both looked up at the same time, eyes locking.
“Angel…” he seemed in a trance, time stopping.
Angel. Before, you’d roll your eyes, call bullshit. Today, where you stood, that word coming from his lips was heavenly.
You wished for nothing more but to hear him say it again.
Hyunjin cursed, arm reaching out to get your hand in his.
“We need to talk. Can I take you to my studio, sweetheart?”
Too caught up in his beauty to form words, you nodded, stupidly.
He smiled at you. A real, genuine smile. All for you.
vii. 20:05pm
His studio was utterly and uniquely him.
One huge room, half of it dedicated to art, filled with half finished canvases, and art supplies, backdrops hanging from the ceiling, projects piling on a desk on the far end of the window wall with the stained glass.
The other half a normal kitchen and living room, the two separated by a table counter. The mess appeared almost purposeful. The apartment wasn’t dirty, it was just—
The mind of an artist. Chaos.
“Amused by my inability to clean?” He joked, studying you taking in his space.
You scrunched your face, biting your lip. “It’s not that. This…makes sense.”
He chuckled, leading you by the hand to his couch.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He brought spoons, and the two of dug into the cake, the fresh, ripe strawberries melting in your mouth. You moaned, excited to be eating something sweet after a long day at work.
Sharing cake with Hyunjin, at his house of all places. This was something out of your wildest dreams, and yet, it all felt a little too normal.
After all, this is a guy you’ve been seeing almost every single day for the past two years of your life. You’ve served him countless coffees, watched him sketch for hours—he’d even walked you to the bus station one time, worried a creep that had been flirting with you a little too aggressively, would try something.
In the moment, you never really realized, but in retrospect, you and Hyunjin had been together a lot.
Never this close, though. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel different, this time, more personal.
You were sure your feelings were painted on your face, and surprisingly, you didn’t particularly care. You wanted it to happen. You didn’t want to keep hiding behind your finger, anymore.
“I owe you an apology. I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you.”
Hyunjin shook his head. “Don’t say that about yourself, angel. I came on too hard, and freaked you out.”
You turned to face him completely. He looked so calm, so content. How had you never seen it before?
Why had you been so adamant on pushing him away?
“No. I was still wrong. Let me do this—”
“(Y/N), please—”
“Hyunjin!” You sighed, exasperated. “This is why we fight. Because you’re so hardheaded!”
He laughed, then, hands reaching out to grab your face. You froze, astute.
“We don’t fight, angel. We bicker. I love bickering with you.”
His mouth attacked yours, pushing you down on the couch. Your back hitting the pillows, you circled your arms around his neck, hands caressing the nape of it.
It was like a fire lit between you, engulfing you both in its flames. Your whole chest was burning with the need to feel him closer, to touch him.
“Angel,” he whispered against your lips. Your eyelashes fluttered, the desire to kiss him again too strong.
“Tell me. Before I continue, tell me,” he pushed the hair out of of your face, lovingly, eyes gazing deep into yours, “if you feel the same. I’ve been hooked on you, sweetheart. Ever since I met you.”
You were about to tell him the scariest three words you’ve ever said—but he had to know. It was overdue, it was necessary he knew.
You touched his cheek, leaving a kiss on the edge of his mouth. He followed your movements like his life depended on them—on you.
“I love you,” you whispered.
The way his eyes lit up, that rare, addictive warmth of his that you’ve only witnessed a handful of times—you would never get enough of his happiness. It was such a whole experience, so very precious.
“Took you fucking long enough, my sweet girl.” He picked you up, wrapping his arms around you in the most delicious way, bringing you on his lap.
You could feel every inch of him—your hunger grew ferocious.
His eyes scanned your face, silently asking for consent, his hands at the hem of your shirt. You kissed him, instead, guiding his hands underneath.
He wasted no time getting you both naked, unhooking your bra, his tongue trailing down from your mouth to your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples.
“Fuck, angel, you’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...”
His other hand moved down, unzipping your jeans, getting lost in your thighs. When he cupped your cunt, you were soaked.
“Goddamn, (Y/N),” his mouth devoured yours, crazy with want, cock painfully hard.
Pausing to remove your pants, you straddled him once again, running your hands over his firm arms, mouth moving to his neck, sucking on it. He groaned, his fingers finding your wetness, rubbing slow circles on your clit.
“Fuck… Hyunjin…”
“Tell me what you need,” he pressed his forehead against yours, your scents becoming one.
You, you, you, everywhere, always—
You moved against his fingers, rubbing yourself on him. The idea of you, doing this with him. It was absurd.
Nothing had felt more right.
All of your senses were wide awake, so entirely consumed by him, and his hands, his breath, his clean scent, the sweat forming, the way his hair fell in his eyes—
His eyes. The way they stared you down, feral, growing darker by the minute. The sounds that escaped your mouth were sinful, and he could absolutely not fucking take it anymore, he’s waited long enough, has wished for this, for you, in any way he could have you, take you, make you his.
His moans were a guttural sound, coming from the back of his throat. You put your hands on his chest, feeling the vibration of them, moving upwards, fingers wrapping around his neck, his head falling back.
He was the angel. He looked unreal, his naked body clenching, his movements never faulting, carrying you through an intense orgasm.
There were no words to describe—all of the buried emotions you refused to accept, they were all bubbling up, spilling out of you, destroying you, and Hyunjin was picking up the pieces.
“I need to be inside you, angel. Please.” Never breaking eye contact, he flipped you, positioning you underneath him, while he stood, one knee between your legs, arm extended over you, holding the back of the couch.
He stayed like that for a moment, just drinking you in, sprawled out, in his house, ready for him. He thanked whatever God granted him such joy, for he had dreamed of this many times.
You, wanting him back. His coffee girl embracing him, trusting him.
The moment he entered you, you both clang to one another, the feeling of his stretching you alone, overwhelming. His mouth against your ear, his heavy breathing scorching. You dug your nails in his back, moving with him.
“Fuck, (Y/N)…” His thrusts were slow, savoring, learning the ways you responded to him.
“Please, Hyunjin, please…”
Hyunjin watched you come apart, your broken moans music to his ears, a melody he’d like to memorize by heart. The way your body synchronized with his, your open mouth, head thrown back, unraveling before him—
“My beautiful girl…never leaving you—never allowed to leave me.”
A symphony. Heaven.
You made love like that, time no longer a concept, exploring each other, until you both came undone, shuddering, breathless, tightly enveloping.
A kiss on your forehead, and a silent question.
Will you stay?
You did; you stayed. You and Hyunjin talked till the early hours of the next morning, hands clasped together, hearts whispering, connected.
I found you.
I’m with you, now.
viii. 05:04am
“I’m sorry about your mom,” you mumbled against his chest, half asleep.
He froze, momentarily, a deep sigh escaping his red lips, fingers drawing circles on your naked back.
“She had to go,” he replied quietly. “That’s what she told me. The cancer was eating her alive.”
Your head rose to meet his eyes, your chest heavy. He looked calm, if not a little tired. He gave you a soft smile, his eyes forming crescent moons, promising you he was okay.
“It was just me and her, but I guess that’s why she introduced me to painting. So I wouldn’t be alone.”
“She liked butterflies.”
You laid back down, burying your face in the crook of his neck, in fear of him noticing the tears in your eyes. He felt them, anyway.
You would never forgive yourself for telling him you hated him. You never did. Hate him.
You hated the way he made you feel.
You would never be able to get over Hwang Hyunjin.
That was fine with you, as long as you got to love him, first.
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petermorwood · 1 year
Note
DD mentioned that you designed the Gonne in Terry Pratchett’s Men At Arms, so I just have to say thank you for creating one of the most plausible but terrifying weapons for that world!
NB, I did NOT design the "Gonne" (from "Men At Arms") - that's Terry's very own, and it's a gunpowder weapon based on the Harmonica Gun. (Look it up.)
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Yul Brynner carried one in the spaghetti Western “Adiós, Sabata”, and - given the presence and plot relevance in MAA of a musical watch like the one in “For A Few Dollars More” - the Sabata movie may well be where Terry saw it.
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Read more in this post from 4 years ago, waaay down near the bottom, including the vexatious problem of a writer carefully concealing what the McGuffin / Plot Device is, then having all that subtlety wasted by an artist (Josh Kirby in this instance) who paints it clear, distinct, and obvious on the cover...
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(According to The Annotated Pratchett File, Terry didn’t mind. That was the official position, anyway...)
*****
What I designed was the prototype Spring-gonne / One-shot.
Terry and I were sitting in the convention bar and he described something he was thinking of for another book (which became ”The Fifth Elephant”). I mentioned the Wel-Rod sleeve gun designed for SOE.
This was basically a huge silencer built around a one-shot firing mechanism, carried hidden up a coat-sleeve on a rubber lanyard.
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A jerk of the arm sent it down into the hand, the weapon was pressed tight against the target and fired (unnoticed in ordinary street noise), then the rubber cord whisked it back out of sight while the assassin walked away from someone who’d apparently tripped over their own feet...
It was meant ONLY for stealthy contact-range assassination, so was exactly the sort of "not-for-threat-just-for-killing" weapon he had in mind and which Vimes so dislikes.
Terry got very interested, explained that it couldn't be a gunpowder weapon and after a few more questions from me ("does Ankh-Morpork have a tech level that can make helical springs?" was one), I got a pen and some paper napkins and sketched a few designs.
They were based around the telek spring-guns in my own books, weapons to fill that inconvenient across-the-room distance between sword and bow and which, as described, have a very satisfying pump-action threat gesture - at least if the hero using them has two working arms...
The original version of the One-Shot was like a bicycle pump from the Dark Side - pull out then puuush in to cock it, turn one way to lock, muzzle-load a bolt and turn the other way to shoot. What finally appeared in print was rather different ("for reasons of Plot" as Terry told me much later; for instance the version in “The Truth” no longer enclosed the bolt so Mr Pin could light its incendiary tip) though I can still read the ancestry of the first scribble in its description. :->
I've still got one of them but have no idea where (try finding a single sheet of crumpled napkin in a house with two writers!); it’s something like this:
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j-onedrabbles · 10 months
Text
𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈
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✧   PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ✧   CW: FLUFF, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY, KISSES, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP ✧   WC: 0.7K ✧   NOTE: this idea was actually one of my friends ideas and they just handed it over to me to work my magic so enjoy! ☺️
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“Come on, we’re almost there,” Hyunjin smiled as he pulled his partner further into the field. It was pretty out of the way of the city and rather secluded. Y/n had no idea what he had planned. He had simply told them it was a date idea he had for a bit and finally found the perfect time and place for it.
It was almost midday when he found the perfect spot. He had brought along a picnic basket and blankets, along with his art supplies. The last part, Y/n wasn’t super surprised about. It wasn’t uncommon for he’d bring sketchbooks on dates like this, claiming they were the perfect model for him, and sketching them on dates was one of his favorite ways to immortalize the moments they had together.
The two laid out the blankets and he set down the picnic basket and his bag of art supplies. Y/n organized their food out on the blanket and the two ate the lunch he had packed for them before anything else.
“Wanna tell me why we’re in a random field?” Y/n asked as he popped a grape into his mouth.
Hyunjin hummed in response and grabbed his phone, “I found this old trend I wanna try. I was gonna ask you to be my model for it.”
He opened up his gallery and started showing her the photos he had saved. It was a trend from a few years ago where people had these elaborate paintings on their backs. “Only if you’re up for it,” Hyunjin added as he looked up at them from where he laid back on his elbows.
“This why you brought your art supplies?” Y/n inquired as they leaned down, resting their forehead against his.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiled
“Okay. What did you wanna paint on me?”
Hyunjin pulled away and grabbed his sketchbook out of his bag. He sat up and flipped through a few pages, looking for what he had drawn up. Y/n sat behind him and wrapped their arms around his waist, resting their chin on his shoulder. Hyunjin finally found the sketch he was looking showed them.
It was one of his flower drawings, but Y/n knew he probably spent the time between when he got this idea to today making the design special for this. “Beautiful as always.” Hyunjin kissed his shoulder
“It’s our birth flowers.” Hyunjin smiled
Y/n kissed his cheek and told him to get his stuff out. Hyunjin moved to grab his stuff and give them some privacy to take off their shirt off and lay down on their stomach. Y/n waited for him to start and scrolled through their social media.
Hyunjin leaned down and kissed their shoulders before he started laying the sketch down on their skin. The two talked while he worked, Y/n occasionally showing him an instagram post or a tiktok video.
Once he got the sketch done he pulled out his paints. “This might feel a bit cold,” hyunjin warned before he started painting
“M’kay,” Y/n hummed.
The paint did feel cold at first honestly. Y/n shivered a bit when it hit her skin and Hyunjin giggled at their reaction but continued nonetheless.
Hyunjin pretty much worked in silence as Y/n relaxed and shut their eyes, opting to take a small cat nap. Hyunjin didn’t notice until he was almost done. He had glanced down at them and smiled, face fully at peace.
He finished the last few details and let the paint dry while he cleaned his art supplies up. He laid down next to them once her finished and wrapped his arm around their shoulders, kissing their cheek and moving some hair out of their face.
Y/n stirred a little bit before shoving their face in the blanket then looking back at him. “Hi sleepyhead,” Hyunjin smiled
“You finish?” They asked
“Yeah. Can I take some pictures?” He asked as he caressed their cheek
“Of course,” Y/n smiled at him.
Hyunjin kissed their cheek one last time before sitting up again. He grabbed his phone and straddled their legs and took a few photos from different angles and heights.
Once Hyunjin was satisfied with the mini photoshoot he resumed laying next to them and showed them the pictures of the art.
“It's beautiful Jinnie,” Y/n complimented and kissed his cheek.
“All my hard work and I get a cheek kiss?” Hyunjin pouted which in turn made Y/n giggle before they placed their lips on his. Hyujin smiled and kissed them back as he pulled them into him.
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© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 12
Thank you so much for the love this story has been getting. I love every comment and tag. You guys are the best!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11
*
“They want us to record a demo?” Jeff asked for the hundredth time since the agent had talked to them.
They were in the garage they used for practice the next day. They still were on the high of suddenly having an agent. Something that they certainly wouldn’t have had without The Queen’s Crown.
“Holy shit!” Gareth said, his voice high from the excitement. “They want us to record a demo.”
“Hell yeah, they do!” Eddie said clapping a poor stunned Brian on the shoulder.
They sat in stunned silence for a couple of minutes.
“This doesn’t mean we’ve made it,” Brian said softly, barely above a whisper.
“No,” Eddie agreed. “But making a demo to shop around to all the labels is a hell of lot closer than we were two weeks ago.”
Gareth let out a shuddering breath. “I thought that song would do it for us, you know. That it would put us on the map.”
“Hey,” Jeff said. “It still might. We just have to knock the recording out of the ballpark too.”
“Think of it as a campaign,” Eddie suggested. “You found the magical item, now you just got to get to the final boss. There’ll be other adventures along the way, but we’ll get there.”
They all nodded.
*
Steve was set to start his painting. Eddie was strewn out on a bed of red satin, his hair a halo around his head, his body beautifully stretched. Steve yearned.
He yearned to press his lips on the indent of Eddie’s collar bone. To taste the line where hip met leg. To run his fingers through those dark locks. To bring a flush to those pale cheeks.
Steve bit down on his lip. He couldn’t fuck this up. Not like what he did last year. He had to paint the whole thing. His face, his thighs, his cock. Steve couldn’t cover anything up or place anything in the frame that cover any part of Eddie.
Everything else? Was completely up to interpretation. He could Lucifer fallen from heaven (if you wanted to torture yourself with painting wings). He could be fair Lysander asleep from Puck’s flower. He could be from any myth, legend or story.
Steve had chosen Eros asleep when Psyche comes to him the first time. Because if there was anyone who fit the god of desire and love, it was Eddie.
He got to work on sketching Eddie’s outline. Choosing the scene carefully. And then when he was home he would work on painting the bed, using an old catalogue as reference for the four poster bed he wanted.  
Every time Joyce walked by when he was painting Eddie, she would nod her approval and walk on.
*
“Fuck, Chrissy!” Eddie cried, burying his face into the throw pillows on her sofa. “The way he looks at me makes it very hard not to get aroused. And I cannot get aroused. I’ve tried thinking of horror movies, cataloguing my band t-shirts in order of when I got them, or even Jeff in a tutu!”
She patted his head gently. “Is this beer, ice cream, or Chinese food freak out?”
Eddie raised his head thoughtfully. “Chinese food.”
Chrissy nodded and went to go make their order. She squeezed onto the sofa between his head and the armrest. She began threading her fingers gently through his hair.
“Do you think he’s doing it on purpose? Like to fuck with you?” she asked softly. “Or you think he has the hots for you so bad it’s leaking out all over the place?”
Eddie slowly sat up next to her and put his head on her shoulder. “I want to believe it’s the latter. But we really haven’t done much except grab the occasional coffee. We text and call all the time, but I don’t know what means.”
“Have you told him you’ve had a crush on him for awhile?” Chrissy asked. Her and Pearl spent most of their shifts together complaining about how their best friends were morons that kept making googly eyes at each other.
“No...” Eddie said with a sigh, dragging his hands over face. “Because of the nude thing.”
“What’s up with the nude thing that prevents you from going after what you want?” She shifted on the sofa to prop her head up on her fist, her elbow on the back of the sofa.
“It’s already hard enough keeping everything down,” he gestured vaguely below his waist, “but add actually knowing what he tastes like, knowing what his skin feels like under my hands, my lips, my tongue? It would take all of two fucking seconds of him looking at me with those bedroom eyes and I’d be harder than that god damn concrete floor.”
Chrissy giggled. “Yeah, I could see how that would be a problem. That’s the best part about being a woman, when we get aroused, it’s a lot harder to tell.”
Eddie scoffed. “Which also makes it the worst part about being a woman because then it means the other person is fucking clueless.”
“Mostly guys,” she agreed.
“Are you glad you’re a lesbian?” he teased, going into tickle her sides.
She squealed with laughter and batted him aside. “Knock that off.”
Just then the doorbell rang. “That’s our food. Saved by the bell.”
Chrissy hopped up to get the food and paid. She set their food on the coffee table and began going through the boxes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie said. “I could have at least covered the tip.”
Chrissy laughed. “Babe, you’re working part time as model and getting paid by the gig. Save your money. I get paid $15 an hour plus tips. Believe me when I say, I’ve got this.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m glad the Queen’s Crown is working out for you, sweetie. You seem so much happier since you’ve started working there.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “And Diamond is thinking of hiring a third bartender things are going so well. It used to be that they only needed the one on week days and two on Fridays and Saturdays, which is when Diamond would step in and help. But with how well Garnet and I get on, we have more people coming in on the week days and we’re getting better tips, too. So Diamond wants to bring in a third so that Garnet leaves we’ll still have two at the bar.”
“Wow,” Eddie said. “I’ve been stuck in the same place for so long...” he spread out his hands, “I forgot what freedom was. We’ve been in the studio recording the last couple of weeks working on our demo to be shopped around.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve writing every moment I can. Hell, most of my best lyrics come from me just lying there for three hours. Well...the ones that don’t have Steve in them, anyway.”
Chrissy laughed. “Oh, I’m sure the lyrics that come from those classes are way to risque for radio.”
Eddie blushed and shoved hair in front of his face. “Shit, Chris. I don’t know.”
She ate her food thoughtfully watching Eddie push his food around. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “So what’s the real problem?” He looked up at her confusion. “I know you. There is something else that’s bothering you, love. You’re wound up so tight.”
Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know.” He set his food down and clasped his hands together, looking down at his feet.
She bumped him again. “You just talked about the freedom to write music, to get the chance to really do something with your life. But I don’t see it in your features, babe.”
“What happens to Steve if I do get a record deal and have to start touring?” he muttered mournfully. “What happens if we’re more than friends when we leave? I just feel torn apart. Having to chose between the life I’ve always dreamed, and my man of my dreams. I don’t know if I would chose touring with the guys if it came down it.” He threw his arms around her. “I would chose Steve every time and that scares me.”
“Oh.” She set her own food on the floor and wrapped her arms him. “Oh, sweetie. That’s why you have to talk to him. Because it sounds to me like those questions have answers only he can give.”
Eddie let out a sob. “What if the answer is that he doesn’t want to try because he doesn’t want to be left behind?”
She kissed the top of his head. “How would you be leaving him behind? Just because he stays in one place while you tour, doesn’t mean you’ve left him behind. It just means you’ve given yourself a home to come back to.”
Eddie looked up at her in awe. “Oh.” He snuggled in close. “You’re the best friend an idiot could ask for.”
She poked his side until he squirmed. “You’re not an idiot, Eddie. Anymore than you were an asshole about Steve. You can only work with the knowledge you have. And yeah, maybe some of your choices were pretty fucked up, you were able to move past it and become friends.”
Eddie let out a shuddering breath. And then another. “I love you, Chrissy.”
“I know, sweetie,” Chrissy murmured, kissing the top of his head.
*
“You wanted to know who Garnet is,” Jonathan snapped. “So that’s why we’re here.”
Nancy sighed. “Doesn’t this go against the bar’s rules or whatever?”
Jonathan threw his arms in the air. “I don’t care at this point. They all know who I am and I know who they are. Because shit happens outside of work sometimes and it gets revealed.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’ll just go to the bar tonight like Onyx suggested.”
Jonathan furrowed his brow. “No. Absolutely not. Because if you do, you’ll get upset and if you get upset, you’ll make a scene and if you make a scene Diamond will ban you.”
It was Nancy’s turn to throw her arms in the air. “Can’t you just tell me who it is?”
“Because you wouldn’t believe him,” a warm, gentle voice said behind her.
She whirled around and gasped. “Steve!”
Steve smiled sadly. “Hey, Nance.”
She looked back and forth between Jonathan and Steve in shock. “He’s Garnet?”
Both men nodded.
“Pure coincidence,” Jonathan said. “I had been working at the bar for a year when we needed a new bartender. Steve came in with Robin and they were both hired.”
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “Robin works there too?”
“Yup!” Steve said with a smile. The smile slowly slid from his face. “Look. I know me turning out to be gay was hard on you. Especially with how it all came out. But just remember, I didn’t come out because I wanted to, it was because I forced to.”
Nancy buried her head in her hands, she looked up at him, anger sparking in her eyes. “If you hadn’t tried to be a hero...”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that it would have been better for a girl to be raped and not realize I’m gay over what I did,” Steve snarled.
She opened her mouth to refute him but no sound would come out.
“I’m sorry it ruined your life, Nancy,” Steve said. “But it wasn’t just your life that was ruined. Do you know long it took for me me to walk down the street without people whispering behind their fingers? How long it took to be able to look at myself in the mirror because of the scars around my neck? I’m sorry I’m the reason you can’t trust Jonathan, but fucking hell Nancy, you aren’t as big as the victim you are making yourself out to be.”
Jonathan touched her elbow. “I didn’t know you felt this way. You need to talk to someone, Nance. That was some pretty messed up shit I just heard.”
Her lip began to quiver. “I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t. Because you’re right, that was so mess up.” She let out a shuddering breath. “The newspaper has someone...I’ll give him a call.”
Steve reached out and held open his arms to her. Nancy wavered a moment, looking to Jonathan. He nodded and she ran for Steve’s arms. He wrapped her up in a fierce hug.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” she whispered. “I’ve just been so angry for so long.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got a good boyfriend there, Nance. Take advantage of that, okay?”
Nancy nodded. “Okay.”
He gave her a brief squeeze and let her go. “I’ve got to get to class. But you take care of yourself, you hear?”
She smiled and let Jonathan lead her away.
Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue
Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy
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lemon-wedges · 11 months
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Just wanted to ask (and feel free to not answer), but how do you draw so much so quickly? I'm always impressed by how fast you doodle or paint. Also, wanted to say that I appreciate your Barok and DGS art as a whole.
and with this ask i have finally reached an artist milestone 😭
Well theres a short answer and a REALLY long answer (which ill put under cut when i get there).
short answer: practice + refs
which.....can be an annoying thing to hear. And as someone who studies art and has bought a LOT of online courses trying to figure out how industry people can just churn out work like nothing. it feels like a let down every time i find out their big secret. just practice and photo refs. Every. Single. Time.
LONG ANSWER:
its how you studying your refs. heres how i do mine
sorry if this is rambly. but ill try my best to at least be clear. BUT THIS is the EXACT way i taught myself how to be quicker.
I do not know if youve taken any art classes but essentially one of the ways to study gesture drawing is by first tracing ur photo ref to get a sense of the flow/proportions of the body. youve probably seen a billion of these tutorials floating around:
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So last year around hmmmm june/july? i was NOT looking to get better at my anatomy or gesture. i was actually trying to get better at clothes. but my problem was it took me so long to draw out a figure (which i was fine with cause i liked how my people looked at the time) that i could never really just focus clothing part.
So i told myself look. ur not looking to draw in this style like this forever. so for now SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY!!!! I WANT THE BAREBONES OF A HUMAN HERE TO MAKE A MANIQUIEN FOR CLOTHES OK
but how do i do that....
Im gonna use this piece as an example from my rise and yosuke fashion palooza month. FIRST u see i got all my photo refs together. i like those poses on the right and i want to switch out the clothes for the other ones i picked out. i trace out my poses. kind of like the tutorial up top but since this is about draping i was focused the exact places their waist/arms/legs/etc would bend.
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and like the tutorial u turn off the photo ref and do a drawing based off that traced piece.
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then i would turn on my refs and add on my clothes
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And after a month of just doing that over and over and over. i was surprised to find that figures and poses were so much easier to understand when i would break them down like this. and once u get familiar with them the faster and more confidently you'll draw them.
I and still do this btw. heres my otasune from the last week
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i used photo refs for all my sketches. if i cant find anything online to match what i want i just take photos of myself. and some might say well arent u just relying on reference TOO much?
AND AGAIN take it from someone who has spend a lot of money buying classes from their fav artists in the industry. The Secret of how they churn out so much cool work so fast always turns out to be this. practice and photo refs.
Every. Single. Time.(tho this is omitting a lot. im not getting into like they way they stylize their art work. that actually the fastest and funnest thing to do once u have ur base down)
Now PAINTING
The thing is, i dont actually post up all my work on this blog. So theres a ton of stuff you havent seen me do. These are some paintings i did 2 years ago for a class.
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I already know how to pick my values and set up lighting. When you see me painting my figures now. i am not focused on learning these basics im actually just honing a technique.
you might see me post readmores with these kinds of wips. I lay in all my colors and lighting with the lasso tool. ALL THE MAJOR DECSIONS ARE DONE HERE
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(the little miniature i add on the side basically tells me what the overall feeling is going to be when i blend in the lineart to be cohesive with my colors) ( also if you had any questions on my prepainting process tho. feel free to ask!!!)
and if you compare this wip to my finished piece youll actually find that i dont stray that far from what i've laid in.
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everything happening at THIS stage is about feeling out how i want the textures to blend with one another and getting funky with some brush strokes.
and thats it? im not sure if any of this is helpful but if anything. i hope you come away from this feeling like what ive been doing here is nothing special. "THATS IT???? THATS ALL THERE IS??? well i could have done that :T"
exactly man. you can do ALL OF THIS aND MORE!!! I BELIEVE IN U :D
but ill let this be the last thing i leave u with my friend: my barok sketch and the refs i used for his boobies
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vampsquerade · 1 year
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Hey, can you write a little story where Gaz s/o is an artist, they both go on an artist date (painting together, visiting museums together). Just a big art day. Thank you ❤️
YES oh my god art dates are so cute 🥹 i used some inspiration from a museum date i went on a couple years ago. i hope you enjoy! thanks for the request pandora 💕
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Gaz x GN!Reader: Sketching The Day
Trigger Warnings: none, all fluff
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“Hey love, do you want to go on a date today?” Kyle asked, looking across the table at you. You perk up slightly, smiling widely. “Yes, please! I’ve been wanting to go on a proper date with you for so long since you’ve come home.” you say. “Grand. I’ve got a good set of things we should do today before it’s over.” Kyle says. “Oh yeah? Are you gonna tell me what, or is this going to be one of those surprise dates?” you ask. “Hmm,” Kyle hums, tapping his chin with his finger before grinning and nodding at you, “definitely is. You’ll just have to wait and see. Now go get yourself ready, alright?” You can see the warmth on his face, and it makes you happy to be able to finally go on a date with Kyle.
His last mission was pretty tiring from what he was allowed to tell you and it didn’t help with the fact that it was one of those that took up more than half the year. Months had passed and finally, you were able to be with your beloved boyfriend again. After getting yourself all readied up an hour and a half later, you go back towards the kitchen and see Kyle’s already changed. You smile and give him a hug, inhaling a bit deeply because he put on a cologne you really liked. “All ready to go now love?” Kyle asks, giving you a kiss on the head. “Can I stand here and just smell your cologne a bit more?” you ask jokingly as you continue to sniff him. “You’ll have plenty of time to smell it once we get back, I promise,” he says.
Pleased with this deal, you pull away from him and the two of you head out to have what you considered your first “mystery date.” After a bit of driving, you see your first stop is what you assume to be a family-owned art supplies store. “We’re doing an art date, aren’t we?” you ask excitedly. It was something you had wanted to do for so long, and seeing Kyle surprise you like this made you happy that he remembered. “We are indeed! Now then, let’s get ourselves inside and get what we’ll need for the most important part of today’s date.” he says cheerfully. Kyle helps you out of the car and continues to hold your hand as you walk inside of the store. You’re amazed by everything inside, as there are paintings, sketches, and several other little art displays made by patrons and the owners themselves.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyle asks, chuckling softly at your amazement. “Yeah…and it smells so nice in here.” you say softly. “But does it smell better than me?” Kyle jokingly asks. “Nothing could ever smell as good as you.” you say, letting go of his hand and wandering off. Kyle stands there for a moment, a bit stunned despite the warm sensation in his heart before he follows after you. The two of you discuss whether or not to buy some watercolors alongside the sketchbooks that Kyle planned on purchasing for the both of you. “Have you tried using watercolors before?” you ask him. “I have, yeah. It’s a bit more tedious than I thought it’d be when I first tried it.” he says. “Would you be willing to let me teach you some more? I’m pretty good with watercolors myself, plus I think it’d be a fun way to bond some more.” you suggest.
Your lovely boyfriend then turns to you, the watercolor set still in his hands, “I reckon I’ll have to take you up on that then. Nothing better than getting to spend time with you.” Kyle says, giving you a wink. You fluster a bit, taking the set from him and putting it in the little basket you had grabbed. A bit more of looking around and gathering things you’ll need, the two of you then pay and make your way out and to what Kyle considered the most important part of your date: a museum that was the closest to your shared flat. Sketchbooks and pencils in hand, the two of you pay to enter the museum and begin your date sketching the various sculptures and paintings you see.
It definitely helps with your sense of perspective once again, as getting to see the bottom half of the sculpture gradually gets further and further away from you the larger it is. The shadows and highlights in the paintings also made for good practice in shading again while giving you that nagging question wondering why you had ever stopped focusing on it as much as you had. The two of you decided to fill up as many pages as you could before the museum closed, considering the two of you went a bit later in the day, heading out into the rain. “Tsk…typical England, am I right?” Kyle asks, making you laugh. “One learns to live with it,” you say as you carefully step further out to reach your hand out of the shelter of the porch of the museum and into the rain, “and thankfully it isn’t too hard. We’ll be able to make it to the car!”
Trusting you fully, Kyle then removes his coat and drapes it over you. “Even if the rain isn’t too bad, the cold definitely is. Let’s head home for a nice tea, yeah?” he suggests. Smiling and giving him a kiss on the cheek, you nod and the both of you quickly and safely make your way to the car. Kyle helps you in by opening the door and taking his coat off your back to put it in front of you to help you readjust to the cold interior of the car. Shivering a bit, you reach back and put your sketchbook into the backseat to make sure it didn’t get any more wet than it possibly was. Kyle then gets into the car and does the same before starting the car and letting it warm up.
“I had loads of fun today with you, Y/N. I’m so sorry that we can’t just have more of a normal life to do things like this more often.” Kyle apologizes, abruptly breaking the silence between you two. “Don’t be sorry. Whether you’re here or not I’ll always love any time I get to spend with you. Even if it’s something as simple as getting to just wander around a museum and sketching the things we see—any time I just get to have you makes me happy.” you say. Kyle smiles, leaning forward to gently cup your face with one hand before giving you a kiss. You kiss back, bringing a hand of your own up to caress his cheekbone with your thumb. “Let’s get home, I don’t want to risk you getting sick from the cold.” Kyle says once he pulls away.
You stare out the window a bit as you pass by the now dimly lit streets of England, watching the rain fall as it falls past the streetlights. The soft pitter patter combined with the lights and movement of the car relaxed you enough to cause you to fall asleep the way back home. Kyle glanced over at your sleeping form briefly, smiling softly to himself as he continued driving. Eventually arriving back at your shared flat, you’re carefully carried inside and woken up once you’re laid onto your shared bed. “Hm?” you hum softly as you come to, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “We’re home. I’ll bring you your pajamas then help you to our room so you can get dressed. I just wanted to set you down real quick so you could try and sleep a bit longer while I got them.” Kyle says.
The amount of care in his voice makes you smile, reaching both your arms up to try and get him to embrace you. Kyle immediately clings to you carefully, rubbing your back and kissing your face all over. “I love you lots, Y/N…truly…I’ll be right back with those pajamas.” he says. You’re let go of and left alone for a moment as Kyle goes to the dryer and comes back with your pajamas. He made sure to warm them up a bit so you’d feel better after being in the cold rain earlier, and the amount of attention that Kyle put into caring for you showed you exactly why you stay with him despite him constantly being away. “You’re the absolute best boyfriend, Kyle. I really can’t express how much I love you but I wish I could…” you say sleepily.
Kyle flusters a bit and you just barely catch it, as you love the way his eyes just shine a little bit more than usual when he does. You yawn softly as you change into your pajamas; Kyle’s turned away completely from you so you don’t have to see him fluster again as you change in front of him. “Oh come on Kyle, you’re gonna see me naked someday. Maybe I could even let you sketch me nude for anatomy practice.” you tease. “I-I know that! It’s just…you know, rude of me to look at you without your permission…” he says, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I know, I’m just teasing! But do know, you most certainly always have permission to look at me when I’m changing.” you say. Kyle nods and sighs then gets his own pajamas and changes in another room, much to your dismay.
You liked when he took his shirt in front of you.
Kyle then steps back into your room and finds you laying down half asleep, the blanket resting halfway on top of your body. He smiles softly and turns the light in your room off before going to join you under the blanket. He readjusts it so it’s properly covering you and the action itself has you nuzzling up to him for extra warmth. Kyle chuckles softly, completely wrapping his arms around you. “Did the museum date really make you this tired, Y/N?” he asks. “Mhm…it was just so fun and relaxing…let’s do it again someday…” you mumble sleepily. “We will, I promise. Get some proper rest now.” Kyle says, kissing the top of your head as you nuzzle further into his chest.
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moonsongchorus · 9 months
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Open Starter: @lunarcovestarters Option 1: Outside the Police Station
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Once the verdict had come in, Anna heaved herself out of the uncomfortable holding cell and collected her belongings from the front. At the door, however, she seriously considered just going back inside. Her sentencing might have been light--she'd been told she 'got off easy'--but she was starting to think she'd prefer to be in jail than face what was coming to her. The version of 'community service' she'd been given was, frankly, humiliating, and that it was for a crime she had not committed was just salt in the wound. There were plenty of things Anna had done that would have resulted in far worse than community service, so it had an ironic sort of sting to think some petty vandalism--that looked it had been done by school children--would be the thing to do her in. She had come to Lunar Cove 50 years ago to stay out of jail. This was the town where she'd gotten to start over, to finally stop running from the demons of her past and the many, many mistakes she had made. But now? The instinct to head straight home, pack a bag, and skip town was nearly overwhelming.
She blinked against the bright sunlight as she stepped out of the station. She'd taken two steps down the street when her purse ripped and her things went scattering across the sidewalk. "God fucking damn it," she hissed, bending to pick up her wallet while a few coins rolled toward the shoe of a passersby.
Option 2: Paradise Juice Counter
"I've been looking into spineless," Mateo was saying, his notebook in one hand and a juice in the other. "And I've got three suspects, right?" He flipped open the notebook--a cardboard, bound notebook shaped like a red couch and made to look like the Handy Dandy Notebook from Blue's Clues. On the first few pages, he'd drawn what were actually very detailed and impressively realistic sketches of invertebrates--though they were all done in brightly colored, glittery gell pens. "We got the octopus. Prime suspect. They're super smart, you know what I'm saying? They can wiggle out of anything! Masters of disguise and sneaking around. Real cool stuff. And they got eight hands so they could have held hella knives to destroy that couch with, right? But then--" he grammatically flipped to the next page. "There's the butterfly. They're small. They're flighty. Like the fae. Maybe they're mini fairies. But I don't know if they could have held that spray paint. their hands would just be real small, you know?"
Mateo passed his 'crime notebook' over to his companion at the table and waited seriously for their input. Ever since he'd spotted the vandalism and been involved in the arrests, he couldn't think of anything else. Of course, his investigation might have gone in slightly the wrong direction, as he was taking the word 'spineless' left on the crime scene a little too literally.
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pucksalotguys · 1 year
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Fling- Chapter 4
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Masterlist to series
*SMUT, MINORS DNI
WC:2.6K
Sidney and Sienna begin their weekend together and while at first it’s a little off there’s also some chatting about life and other interests. Sidney sees there’s more to her than what he thinks and Sienna starts to see he’s more than average 
(Chapter 4 is finally here after the mini break ! Hope you guys love it and tell me what you think ! Feedback is what keeps me going 💕. Enjoy !)
“So when did you start liking art ?” Sidney asked as he handed her a flannel “In case you get cold…” “Since I was a kid” Sienna shrugged as she took it and put it next to her “And as I got older it just became fun, there’s not much to it. It’s easy and anything can be art if you really think about it” “You think hockey is an art ?” he asked
“Sure” she nodded “I think anything that someone enjoys is an art” He chuckled “Cliche answer” “A truthful one” she corrected 
“You know when you’re not being mouthy, you’re actually really nice to be around” Sidney admitted with a grin “Don’t get all mushy on me, is this an old people thing ?” Sienna teased “And there you go again” he chuckled
Sidney observed her as she began to paint on her sketch pad; he wasn't an expert, but he could tell she was. This was a different Sienna, one who was in her element and in command. One he wished to see more of
"Is that a sunset?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said, "I was at the incline with my friends the other day and the sunset looked insane, it was gorgeous."
"I remember that thing," Sidney smiled, "It used to be one of my favorites when I first got here."
“It’s fun” she nodded “Now it’s your turn”
He tilted his head at her “I can’t paint that, I’m not an expert like you are Sienna”
“Just try you loser” she rolled her eyes and handed him the brush “You have wine ? Maybe you need to get a little drunk to get confident like you were a bit ago when you were fucking the life out of me” He reddened and laughed dryly. 'If you insist, my wine cellar is in the basement.  Given that there's no electricity, wanna go down there?"
"OK," she said as she scooped up her belongings, "You lead the way."
As they walked down the stairs and into his basement, Sidney handed her a candle and flashlight. "Here we are, do you choose red or white?"
"Red," Sienna said, looking around.
The first thing she noticed were multiple pictures of the team, both past and present, as well as numerous awards. She used her flashlight to search through them all; the list of honors was too long to even count.
Sidney watched her as he poured them wine and smirked “Not bad for an old dude” “Kinda cool” Sienna nodded “You clearly love what you do here. I mean everyone knows you’re good but it shows that you love it too” “It’s all I know” Sidney admits “I mean, well I like other stuff but hockey definitely is my favorite, kind of like art is to you” “Except yours makes you millions upon millions of dollars a year and mine is paid for by my parents” she laughed “I’d say we’re way different” “We’re more alike than you think” he handed her a glass “I know I’m older but I-”
“But nothing” she took a sip and shook her head “I think you’re hot and you fuck like a winner, that’s all that matters to me Sidney. I don’t care about hockey, or how much money you have or what you can do for me….you get that ? I have everything I could ever dream of, I truly have it all” Sienna said “I just want you for fun, for a fling. Just like you want me…. she traced a finger down his shirt Sidney moved his eyes down to her finger and licked his lips, she had some power over him and as hard he tried to fight it it was like he was putty in her hands. They had just fucked a mere 3 hours ago and here he was hungry for her again, there was just something about her. Sure they had agreed to be nothing but sex, but he didn’t ever want to make it seem like he was taking advantage in some way. Instead he thought of something else “I suck at painting but can I paint on you ?” he murmured She raised her brow as she took off her top and sat in front of him “Go ahead, I’m your canvas” He gulped as he grabbed a paintbrush and dipped it in some pink paint as he lightly traced over her chest, goosebumps on her skin as the bristles touched her “I can tell you’re painting a heart” Sienna said  “I know the shape really well”
“It’s about the only thing I can draw properly” he admitted with a coy smile “Gotta fill it in” He looked at her and grabbed a nearby blanket as he put it over her, gently covering her lower breasts “I’ll be done in a bit” “Such a gentleman” Sienna mentioned softly
She looked around as he finished up, it was weird but also cute. From the side of her eye she could see just how hard he was focusing from the way he was sticking his tongue out from the corner of his lips and squinting. This was a different level of intimacy, something she had never experienced before “And all done” Sidney grinned as he took out his phone to show her a reflection “Cool huh ?” “It’s a pink heart and….is that snow ?” she squinted at the screen “It’s a penguin !” Sidney frowned “Don’t you see the black and white, and the eyes ?” “I see a pink heart and next to it some white blob” Sienna responded with a laugh “But I guess it could be a penguin” He shook his head “I can’t believe you can’t tell it’s a penguin”
She stood up and held his phone away from her “That’s the ugliest penguin I’ve ever seen, definitely stick to hockey” Sidney sighed and yanked his shirt off “Your turn” “Mine’s gonna be way better” Sienna grinned as she wrapped the blanket below her He chuckled and laid on his stomach as she got to work, after a few minutes he felt himself drift and fell asleep.It was a bit later when he heard Sienna’s voice on the phone “I got it mom, don’t worry all good….yes yes I’m okay. I’ll see you and dad tomorrow night. Love you too” “Who was that ?” Sidney asked She turned around wearing the flannel he had given her early, the first 4 buttons left undone as she wore it as a dress. His painting from earlier still on her, “Well look who’s awake, and it was my mom. Seems like the storm is calming down and they’ll get here tomorrow night”
“I see power is back” he nodded as he stood up and looked in a mirror by the bar “Oh shit you painted a whole jersey” “Told you I was good” Sienna grinned “You fell asleep halfway through, I didn’t wanna wake you since you looked kinda cute” “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me” he chuckled She reached up and kissed him as her arms wrapped around his neck “I like you, you know that….but I also like being mean to you. It’s kinda fun”
He looked down at her and gave a small laugh “I kinda like you feisty too” "I should go....electricity is back and I need shower and make sure I have everything ready for my parents," Sienna chuckled, tucking some hair behind her ear.
"Stay" Sidney said abruptly "Stay here for tonight...." he repeated a bit softer
"You're being bossy...how cute" 
"And you're stubborn," he murmured quietly, looking at her, "just....stay here for tonight, it's still raining a little and it's a bit of a walk back to your house."
"One condition," Sienna said as she crossed her arms.
"What ?" Sidney's forehead furrowed in confusion
"Tell me to stay again," she said as she moved closer to him
He sighed in defeat and grinned “Stay please” “Okay” she nodded as she sat back down and flashed him a wink
************************
“Thanks for letting me shower” Sienna said as she dried her hair “I think I got all the paint out, you ?”
“Yeah, yeah I got it too” Sidney nodded as he put the towels in a bin He wasn’t gonna admit it but showering with her felt nice, there was nothing weird or even sexual about it this time around
“I was thinking maybe we could watch a movie down in my theater room, if you want ?” he asked
“I’m down” she nodded as she threw on a sweatshirt he had given her for the night and walked alongside him “Hey your theater room is like my dad’s except he just has me watch surgeries he’s performed in the past” Sidney chuckled “Your parents are big shots here in the city, give them some credit” “True” she laughed “Not gonna lie, they’re really good parents” He shifted in his chair and turned towards her “Would you ever….” “Tell them ?” Sienna finished “No way.” “Sorry it’s just….I mean I don’t want anyone you know” he nodded “You don’t want anyone knowing you hookup with your neighbor's 20 year old daughter ? Good” Sienna said “I don’t want anyone knowing I fuck the captain of the city’s hockey team. It would ruin my life while you would be held on some pedestal” Sidney shook his head “I’d make sure nothing would happen to you” he assured her “I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you”
“Enough with the mush” Sienna picked up the remote, ending the conversation abruptly as she felt slightly uncomfortable by him admitting he’d protect her “Come on, let’s pick a movie” After bickering from both sides for an hour they still hadn’t come to an agreement and it was annoying the shit out of Sidney. As gorgeous as Sienna was, she was picky and if she didn’t like something she’d let him know. Finally he took the remote and set it down “You’ve said no to everything I’ve listed, just pick one already. Jesus you’re fucking picky” “I don’t know any of these fucking movies or shows, they’re like for old people like you” Sienna shrugged as she filed her nails  “Oh ! Let’s watch Gossip Girl” she pointed to the screen “It’s so good” “No way” he shook his head “Sounds like a shit show” She groaned in protest “Fine, you got snacks ? I’m kinda hungry” “Behind the bar” he nodded “Get whatever you want, everything should be stocked” “I’m a guest here, you go get me what I want” Sienna said back “I mean…you were the one who asked to stay so I’m a guest and I should be treated as such”
Sidney rolled his eyes and got up “What do you want ?”
“What do you have ?” she asked back “Maybe if you got up you could see, what if you’re allergic ?” Sidney said “To nuts I am” she admits “So nothing with nuts please, surprise me Crosby” He nodded as he went and picked some stuff up and dumped them on her lap “I basically got you Candy land and chips, now sit and I’m picking what we’re watching. No complaints” “Yes sir” she smirked Sidney searched and searched until he settled on one he thought would be good “Love this one”
“I’ve never watched this movie” Sienna admitted as she took his M&M’s and threw some in her mouth “
Sidney sat up a bit and furrowed his brow “You’ve never watched Rocky ?”
“Do I look 50 ?” she asked “This movie came out in the 70’s, you weren’t even born”
“It’s my favorite movie of all time” he handed her can of soda “Just sit and watch, I think you’ll like it”
“Your house, your rules” she shrugged and leaned a bit against him “And I know I seem cold hearted but if there’s any death in this I will cry, just a warning”
“It’ll be nice to see you have feelings” Sidney smirked 
Sidney could see her excitement in the movie from the corner of his eye while it played. He smiled to himself when she laughed at the amusing portions and grimaced when she frowned at the difficult ones. What he didn't anticipate was her taking his hand in hers and lowering it down to her sweatpants.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Please...." Sienna murmured
He bent over and kissed her as he inserted his fingers inside of her and began moving them gently then quickly, the sound of her gasps and moans driving him wild.
"Fuck....so good," she moaned, biting her lip
Before Sienna even realized it, she had finished. Her eyes heavy as she straddled his lap and kissed his neck “You didn’t fuck me in the shower, I was waiting” “Good girls wait” he murmured as he stroked himself “Now I can fuck you and no one can hear us” She moaned as she straddled him a bit better and inserted him inside of her “Fuck yes, I got you” Sidney held her hips and watched as she rode him, his own personal fantasy coming true. This time it was just pure fucking, no different positions or rushing. He sucked on her sweet spot just above her collarbone as he felt her clench around him, she was close “Be a good girl and cum on my cock” he whispered “Yes….Yes” she gasped as she picked up the pace “Yes what ? Who’s are you ?” Sidney asked “Who’s are you ?” he repeated as he lowered his thumb to rub her clit “Y-Y-Your’s” Sienna stuttered as she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and felt him come “Fuck yes, fill me up”
“Come for me now” he rubbed a little faster, smirking when he felt her release “Good girl”
He put a hand on her back and softly stroked without saying anything for a few moments. In return, he felt her arms wrap around his neck, which he liked as he kissed the top of her shoulder
"Tired ?" Sidney asked 
"Yeah I am" Sienna nodded as she lifted her head to make eye contact "Is it okay if we go to bed ?"
"Let's go" he nodded as he situated himself and stood up and scooped her up 
"I can walk" she chuckled "It wasn't that hard of a fuck
"Let me be a true gentleman for once" he said as he walked up the stairs "Plus you may need rest for tomorrow"
The second their heads hit the pillows they were out. Sidney didn't even wake up the next morning until close to noon and only because she was the one who shook him awake 
"What ? Jesus chill out" he snuggled his comforter "What do you need ? Have whatever you want, anything here is yours to use"
"My fucking parents are here early" Sienna whispered as she peeked out his window "How the fuck am I gonna get home now when I said I was already home ?"
Sidney shot up at the mention and peeked with her as he saw her parents getting their luggage down from the car  "Shit....get your stuff, I think I got a plan"
"You think ?" Sienna asked 
"I'm gonna go out and distract them and you sneak in through the back. Jump your pool gate"
Sienna sighed and nodded “Fine, fine but you go out first….” He put his sweatpants back on and grabbed his sweatshirt “Leave your things here, I’ll get them to you” “Okay” she said as she threw on her clothes from the previous night
“Sienna…” Sidney said as he held her arm “We gotta be more careful now” She leaned up and kissed him “Then it wouldn’t be fun” He rubbed his lips together and took in her taste, this next part would be key to how they handled their meetings from here on out and he only hoped for the best for her own sake
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livesincerely · 2 years
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[Bits & Bobs] Untitled, Mistaken Identity, Didn’t-Know-They-Were-Soulmates, ABO AU
(¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
00000
Jack’s up on the twelve foot⁠—tape measure in hand and pencil held between his teeth, straining upwards to double check the distance between the crown molding and the center of the wall⁠ because he’s pretty sure no one bothered to update the library blueprints after the last set of renovations and it’s really gonna piss him off if he sketches out the whole design only to realize too late that the dimensions are wrong⁠—when he catches something moving in his peripheral.
Jack twists around, the ladder wobbling underneath him, as he realizes that there’s someone standing just behind and below him, which, considering that this entire area is supposed to be cordoned off while Jack works, is a little troubling.
This guy doesn’t look particularly threatening though: he’s your average library type⁠—probably about Jack’s age, maybe younger, with dark hair and glasses, wearing a sweater and a pair of khakis⁠—but the ID badge hanging around his neck points towards ‘librarian’ rather than ‘patron’. He’s tall, probably taller than Jack, but with the sort of long and lean build that makes Jack think Beta instead of Alpha. It’s more than a little weird that he can’t tell for sure, but since there’s no point in trying to sniff him out, he tries not to worry about it.
“Make some noise, will ya?” Jack says, stepping down the ladder until his feet are planted on solid ground. “The last thing I need is to fall off’a this thing and bust my skull open.”
“You,” the librarian says. He’s got incredibly blue eyes behind those glasses of his, but his expression is a cross between dazed and befuddled, staring at Jack like he just sprouted up out of the ground. “Are you the artist they commissioned for the lobby mural?”
“That’s me,” Jack agrees. He wipes his hand on his smock out of habit more than need⁠—he hasn’t even cracked open a paint can yet⁠—then holds it out to him. “Jack Kelly.”
The librarian stares at Jack’s outstretched hand like he has no clue what to do with it. Jack’s just about to awkwardly pull it back when he finally reaches out and clasps it in his own.
“David Jacobs,” he murmurs, the tips of his fingers grazing against the inside of Jack’s wrist as they shake.
“Nice’ta meet’cha, Davey,” Jack says, trying for something lighthearted to break the… whatever this is.
Davey frowns. “That’s not my⁠—”
“Say, you wouldn’t happen to know if there’s a more recent set of blueprints on site somewhere, would ya?” Jack asks. “I’m workin’ with the ones from City Hall but I don’t think they’ve been updated since the 80’s, so they’re not as accurate as I’d like ‘em to be.”
Davey continues to stare at him, brow furrowed. Jack’s starting to wonder if there’s something on his face when he remembers the bandage taped across the bridge of his nose.
“Oh, don’t mind this,” Jack says, waving a hand over his face. “Like I said, the last thing I need is to fall off another ladder.”
They keep staring at each other.
“So, uh…” Jack trails off, uncertain. “The, um, blueprints?”
“Blueprints,” Davey repeats. He gives himself a little shake, some of the fog starting to clear from his expression. “We… There might be a copy in the office upstairs,” he says. “No promises on how accurate it is.”
“That kinda mornin’, huh?” Jack asks, sympathetic. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, that would be great.”
Davey takes a step back, then another, slow and shaky.
“I’ll just… go get that for you,” he murmurs.
He throws one last look at Jack over his shoulder, searching, then exits as quietly as he came, the door shutting softly behind him.
Jack stares after him for a moment, bemused and a little perplexed. It’s another half hour of checking and re-checking the desperately incorrect measurements he’s been given, muttering curses under his breath the entire time, before Davey returns.
“This is the only one I could find,” Davey says, offering it to Jack with a careful hand. “From just under five years ago, it looks like.”
Jack goes to grab it, pleasantly surprised when it makes that unmistakable worble-wobble sound.
“They laminated the hard copy?” Jack asks, examining it. Already he can see numbers and dimensions that match the handful he’s already taken, relief easing the line of his shoulders. Maybe this job won’t end up being a pain in the ass after all.
“We have a photocopier upstairs,” Davey explains. “And a laminator. I figured it might be good for you to have a protected copy, given…”
He gestures at the array of paint and supplies that are cluttering the hallway.
“No, yeah, thanks,” Jack says absently, and he reaches up for the pencil that’s tucked behind his ear, going to mark which dimensions he’s already checked⁠⁠—it scrapes uselessly against the protective plastic.
Davey’s face falls.
“Except you won’t be able to make notes,” he realizes at the same time Jack does. “I didn’t think of that, but I really should’ve… We’ve got dry erase markers behind the front desk, no one would mind if you took a couple for yourself.”
“Uh,” he starts, not really sure what to make of all this. “So, did you need somethin’, or…?”
Davey blinks, his brow furrowing. “No,” he says slowly. “No I… I guess I don’t. I’ll just…”
And just like that, he’s gone again.
00000
“Someone needs to put a bell on you,” Jack grumbles, climbing down. “How are you so damn quiet?”
“I work in a library,” Davey says, arching an eyebrow. “It sort of comes with the territory.”
“What, do they teach ya how’ta sneak up on people?” Jacks asks. “Or is that a special skill they look for in new hires?”
“Oh, there’s a whole training module on it,” Davey says dryly. “You only pass if you can make at least three people jump out of their skins every shift.”
“Smartass,” Jack says with a grin. “Won’t be so funny when I fall off this ladder and break somethin’ else.”
“Is that what happened with…” Davey asks, trailing off.
“What, this?” Jack asks, gesturing to his nose. “Nah, this one’s ‘cause I dropped a paint can on my face.”
“You…?” Davey stops, then lets out a snort, his eyes crinkling up adorably at the corners. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but⁠—” He hides his face behind his hand, not quite able to muffle his giggles. “An entire paint can? How do you even manage something like that?”
“You accidentally leave the can you were using upon the top shelf,” Jack explains, watching him laugh with something a little like fascination, his heart fluttering in his chest. “And overestimate how high you can jump when you’re tryin’ to get it back down.”
00000
Somewhere over the smell of books and dust, people and paint, he picks up something else, something faint but oh, so sweet, and it hooks right into the heart of him. Pulls. Something stirs at the base of his skull, the most primitive part of Jack⁠—the part that's alpha⁠—waking up to take note.
That’s mine, it tells him.
Jack locks eyes with Davey from across the room.
Because Davey scents like…
Davey is…
Davey…
Mine.
The office door slams shut behind him. Jack’s stepping into Davey’s office⁠—he doesn’t remember moving⁠—but he’s here and Davey is standing there, watching him with those big, blue eyes of his from behind his glasses, mouth parted in surprise, and he’s Davey. Scents like bright citrus and spiced cider and warm honey and Davey, so sweet that Jack can almost taste it on his tongue, and Jack can’t breathe, can’t find any air to put in his lungs except that he has to breathe. Has to keep breathing in that delicious scent.
“What the hell is happening?” he hears himself ask, but it’s distant. Unimportant. Because that scent is everywhere, it’s clinging to the walls, pressed into the carpet, lingering on every bookshelf, on the surface of the desk, and it’s wafting off of Davey himself, even stronger and sweeter from the source, utterly irresistible.
Jack’s hands twitch, his nostrils flare, and between one moment and the next, he’s crowding Davey up against the nearest flat surface, which in this case is the bookshelf he’s still standing, frozen, in front of. Jack has just enough sense left in the pile of mush that was once his brain that he doesn’t grab him, doesn’t press his mouth to Davey’s neck and lap up the taste of him right off his skin, but it’s a close thing.
“It’s the scent bond,” Davey says, his eyes dark, voice rough. His palms are splayed, wide and trembling, against the shelf behind him, like he’s having just as much trouble trying to keep from touching Jack as Jack is from touching him.
“The scent bond?”
Davey’s pupils are blown out, spots of color blooming high in his cheeks, but he still manages to level Jack with one of those exasperated looks of his.
“We’re compatible,” he says, short and succinct, arching an eyebrow like Jack’s supposed to have known this already. Jack wants to kiss him so bad his chest aches with it. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Jack echoes faintly. “What, you knew this would happen?”
“I’ve always known,” Davey snaps at him, but he’s taking in these great gasps of air, like he’s desperate for every trace of Jack’s scent, like he’s drowning in it. Jack sways closer, needing to be closer. “You just never… You never seemed to care, before. Didn’t react. And you made yourself perfectly clear, last time, what you thought of all this, so I don’t know why you’re even bothering⁠—”
“You don’t know why I’m bothering,” Jack starts, incredulous, a growl starting to form in the back of his throat, the alpha in him howling out mineminemine⁠—
And Davey whines, hard and guttural, like the sound’s been torn out of him, his scent spiking sweeter, his lashes fluttering, and⁠—
And Jack presses in, nuzzles against the soft curve of Davey’s jaw, panting against his pulse, because that’s his, that sound, that scent, that’s his, it’s all for him⁠, all for Jack—
“Jack,” Davey says, breathless, and Jack can’t tell if it’s a protest or a plea. “Jack.”
Davey’s hands are fisted in the fabric of Jack’s dress shirt, one tangled up in the buttons, the other tight around his collar. And Jack wants, wants like he’s never wanted anything, wants to touch and taste, wants to gather Davey up in his arms and never let him go.
Davey’s grip tightens, and for a moment it seems like he’s dragging Jack closer, pulling him in, but then the next second he’s pushing, hard, at Jack’s chest. Jack stumbles back a few feet, catching himself against Davey’s desk, the hard edge digging into his ass.
“Jack,” Davey says again.
“I think I just went into rut,” Jack says, the possibility only just occurring to him.
“We’re caught in a feedback loop,” Davey explains, head tilted back against the bookshelf like it’s the only thing keeping him upright, the long column of his throat on perfect display. Jack’s fingers dig into his thighs as he uses every last bit of restraint to keep from moving back towards him. “It’s making us both⁠… I didn’t know it could be so strong.”
“But you knew about this?” Jack asks, trying to focus on something besides how badly he wants to lick his way into Davey’s mouth, hands trembling, blood burning. “Knew that we were…”
“I’ve known we were mates since the moment we met,” Davey says, and it’s the way he says it, the weight of the words, that sends a shiver down Jack’s spine.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Tell you?” Davey asks, shaking his head, his scent souring. “What was there to tell? Nothing’s changed since the last time we talked, and I’m not going to keep fighting a losing battle, no matter how much I might…”
He trails off, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
And finally, finally, Jack understands: Davey’s dumbfounded expression that first day, his careful questions about mating⁠—about Jack’s thoughts on mating⁠—if he ever hoped he’d find his true mate, what he’d do if he ever did...
“Oh my god,” Jack says, blinking in disbelief. “I’m such an asshole.”
Davey’s lips twitch like he wants to agree, maybe even wants to laugh, but his expression stays tight and guarded, like he doesn’t dare to give Jack another inch.
And Jack can’t even blame him.
“Do you remember, when I first started back in October, I’d just broken my nose?” Jack starts carefully, hoping like hell that he hasn’t ruined this before it’s even begun. At Davey’s hesitant nod, he continues with, “Well, the part that wasn’t so obvious was, they had to put me on this medication while it was healin’—basically made it so I couldn’t smell nothin’. Like, nothin’ at all. Apparently it’s real common for Alpha’s to permanently fuck up their sinuses, sniffing too hard right after an injury.”
Davey swallows, hard, realization starting to dawn.
“It’s only just finished healin’,” Jack continues hoarsely. “Got word from the doc that I’m good to stop takin’ it a coupl’a days ago.”
“So you didn’t…?”
“I didn’t,” Jack agrees. “I was downstairs at the reception, pacin’ up and down the stacks and tryin’ to pretend like I wasn’t missin’ you⁠ like crazy—” Davey inhales sharply, eyes wide. “—when I caught this scent in the air. And it was just…”
Jack doesn’t have the words for it, doesn’t know how to describe the tantalizing citrus-spice of Davey’s scent, the thick, honey sweetness of it. The way it set every one of his nerves alight, the way he’d wanted to bare his chest, throw his head back and howl.
“I had to find it,” Jack says, and his voice is raspy, almost rumbling as he speaks. Davey stares back at him, and the look on his face is almost too much to handle. “I had to. I wasn’t even a question, wasn’t even a thought. I had to.”
“But that’s just,” Davey stops. Bites his lip. Jack’s eyes follow the motion with a need that approaches agony. “But that’s just my scent, it’s just… pheremones, or whatever,” he says, echoing Jack’s words from before. “Nothing’s changed. Just because you know, now, still doesn’t mean you’d want this without them.”
And that’s just so blatantly untrue that Jack can’t help but snort.
“I’ve really made a mess of things,” Jack says ruefully, shaking his head. He explains, “I tried to ask you out about a half-dozen times⁠, before all’a this. And that’s jus’ when I got up the courage to try, not countin’ all the times I thought about it but lost my nerve. I thought⁠—” Another scoff of disbelief. “—I thought you were tryin’ta let me down easy, ya know? Say it without sayin’ it? But if you actually jus’ didn’t fuckin’ notice, then I must really be goddamn hopeless⁠—”
Davey takes a single, lurching step forward, and in an instant, Jack’s standing to meet him, as inevitable as the tide. Jack pulls him in, pulls him down, and Davey lets him, lets him cradle his face between his hands and finally, finally, bring their lips together.
That first kiss, that first press of Davey’s lips to his⁠—it’s like something in Jack’s brain breaks. Or, maybe it’s the exact opposite, like a fuse has finally popped back into place, a breaker’s been flipped, and everything’s lit up and sparkling. Jack feels wild, feels fucking unhinged, licking at Davey’s lower lip until they part, devouring his mouth, needing to claim.
Davey moans into his mouth, kissing back just as hard, just as frantically, matching him moment for moment. His hands are tight around Jack’s biceps, holding on to him with the same desperation that Jack’s clinging to him, and he’s making the most delicious little noises, the air around them heavy with his spiced-sugar-citrus scent.
Jack breaks the kiss, leaning up to nose against Davey’s throat, mouthing over his fluttering pulse point, then down to that perfect spot where his neck meets his shoulder, right where that heady scent is strongest.
“You’re drivin’ me crazy,” Jack pants, breathing him in. “God, Davey.”
Davey tips his head back, face flushed and chest heaving, and that tiny hint of submission has Jack easing them back towards the desk, sitting down on top of it and pulling Davey up to straddle him.
Davey catches himself with his hands against Jack’s shoulders, his mouth red and kiss-swollen.
“We have to stop,” he says, a little ragged, looking at Jack from over the rim of his glasses. His curls fall haphazardly across his forehead, his hair mussed and messy from having Jack fingers tangled in it. The sight of him is doing dangerous things to Jack’s heart.
“Or,” Jack suggests, pressing his thumbs into the divots of Davey’s hips.
Davey flushes even deeper, his arms sliding up to loop around Jack’s neck, the tips of their noses almost touching.
“I am not riding you on top of my desk, Jackie,” he says, his eyes dark beneath his fringe.
“Nah,” Jack readily agrees. “Here, switch with me, I’ll bend you over it.”
Davey goes perfectly still, his mouth falling open around a shocked little oh. Then he’s got his hands in Jack’s collar, dragging Jack up until he can slant their mouths back together, wet and scorching. Jack groans into him, bites at his lower lip, gets two palmfuls of his ass and squeezes, urging his hips down so Jack can grind up into him, and it’s criminal how good it all feels, how right.
“Stop,” Davey pants, even as he presses another searing kiss to Jack’s mouth, hips rolling against his in a delectable tease. “We have to stop— Have to leave, before—“ His hands twitch against the planes of Jack’s chest, like he might haul him in again, but he manages to put a few inches of space between them. “Please tell me you drove here.”
Jack shakes his head. “I only take the truck when I’m lugging paint around.”
“Fuck,” Davey swears. “Okay, okay, we’ll just have to take my car⁠—”
“Tell me again, why I can’t fuck you into the carpet?” Jack asks, body aching with how badly he wants him, the red haze of his rut clouding his mind.
“We shouldn’t,” Davey says, but it’s a weak rebuttal, watching Jack with those gorgeous baby blues, his face still flushed a delicious shade of pink. “We… No condoms.”
“I got one in my wallet,” Jack offers, voice low.
“Jack,” Davey keens. “We⁠— We have to⁠— A bed, Jack.”
“Okay,” Jack says, kissing him again. They lose a few minutes like this, chasing after each other’s mouths, their combined scents flooding the space with sugar and smoke, and Jack’s pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life like this, tangled up in all things Davey.
When he finally pulls away, it’s with the last, barren threads of his restraint. Davey blinks at him for a moment, confused, then seems to remember the task at hand⁠—he carefully slides out of Jack’s lap, and Jack feels the loss of him like a missing limb.
“Fuck,” Davey says, his voice thick with wonder and want.
“Fuck,” Jack says, just as roughly.
Neither of them move.
“I need you to leave first,” Jack finally says, his hands curled in a white-knuckled grip around the edge of Davey’s desk. “And… slowly.”
Davey understands immediately.
“You’d chase me?” he asks, and he actually sounds surprised at the possibility.
Jack just looks at him. Davey must read the truth of the matter⁠—how absolutely, deadly serious he is⁠—from his expression alone, because he lets out a soft little gasp, almost a moan, the sound of it hitting Jack like a punch to the gut.
“Dave,” he grits out, closing his eyes as he struggles for control. “Sweetheart, you’re killin’ me.”
“Sorry,” Davey says, in that same breathy tone. He inches towards the door, groping behind him for the knob instead of turning his back.
“Slowly,” Jack warns again, moving to follow him. His rut is really starting to kick in now: it’s all he can do to keep from growling when he speaks and there’s a relentless pounding beneath his breastbone, behind his eyes, his teeth aching with the urge to bite.
Davey swallows, gives a shaky nod, and god, he’s pretty, all flushed and rosy and perfect. He retreats out into the hallway, then heads towards the employee exit in the back.
“Where are we heading?” Davey asks. “Yours or mine?”
“I’m, like, forty-five minutes away when traffic’s good,” Jack says, and he reaches out to take Davey’s hand, needing the contact. Given that Davey immediately laces their fingers together, he must not be the only one. “You’re probably closer.”
“Alright,” Davey says, pulling him along until they reach the staff parking lot. “So, we’re, uh… We‘re really doing this, then?”
Jack draws up short.
“We don’t gotta, if you don’t want to,” he says. Because it would be hard⁠—be painful⁠—to stop now, when he’s nearly out of his mind with how badly he wants him, but he could do it, if Davey asked him to. “If you’re not sure.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Davey says, shaking his head. “You’re the one that should be… Jack, I’ve known about this for weeks. You didn’t know about any of this until just a second ago, and you’re seriously telling me that you’re all ready to just dive into this, head first?”
“It’s not like we have to mate,” Jack points out, but even just saying the word mate sends the alpha part of his brain into a fucking frenzy. “We don’t gotta commit to anything we ain’t sure about.”
“Right,” Davey agrees, and his voice is light but he’s not quite meeting Jack’s eyes anymore, his sweet scent turning slightly stale. “Wouldn't want to make any hasty decisions.”
It’s all instinct, the way Jack steps towards him then, the way he takes Davey by the hips and backs him up against the brick facing on the outside of the library, caging him in.
“You think I don’t want this as much as you do,” he says slowly, and there’s an edge to his tone, something wild boiling in his blood, instinct prowling around the landscape of his mind, ready to pounce.
Davey lifts his chin, defiant, but his gaze is wary, like he’s already bracing himself for the worst.
“Can you really blame me?” he asks—softly, with a hint of challenge. “I mean, why would you?”
“Because you’re mine,” Jack snarls.
That next kiss is anything but gentle: it’s fierce, almost scalding in its intensity, hot and heated. Davey whines as Jack plunders his mouth⁠⁠—nipping roughly at his lower lip before soothing the sting away with his tongue⁠⁠—and he brings one of his hands up to curl around the nape of Jack’s neck, like he’s determined to keep him close, like he thinks Jack’s going somewhere and⁠—
And it would take a literal force of nature⁠—a fucking extinction level event⁠—to tear Jack from his mate, from his Davey. Davey, who’s smart and sarcastic and goddamn gorgeous, who worries when his regulars don’t show up to talk about the morning crossword and who reads to the little ones every Saturday afternoon, who drives Jack absolutely fucking crazy with his blue eyes and his glasses and his hands and his mouth and⁠—
And Jack would have him right here, right this very second, if Davey so much as said the word.
Jack breaks the kiss, heart racing, only to bury his face against the curve of Davey’s neck and start working a bruise into the skin there—high on his throat, an obvious claim.
Mine, Jack thinks again, satisfaction thrumming through his veins. Mine.
Davey makes a noise—soft, needy, desperate—and all but melts into him, his breaths turning ragged. A hand sneaks down to slip underneath the hem of Jack’s shirt and even that scant touch feels hot enough to burn, hot enough to sizzle and spark, and the way he smells is driving Jack fucking insane, so thick and sweet that it’s making his mouth water, it’s making his knees weak, it’s—
Jack catches that wandering hand by the wrist, then pins it and the other one to the wall on either side Davey’s head, lacing their fingers back together in an intimate weave.
“You just went into heat,” he says. It isn’t a question.
“And whose fault do you think that is?” Davey pants, waspish, but the snark is undermined by how raspy his voice is, how each word threatens to break around a whimper.
“Jesus Christ,” Jack growls, hauling him in for another demanding, domineering kiss. He pulls back a hair’s breadth⁠—it’s all he can manage. “Where the fuck is your car?”
“It’s next to the…” Heat hazy and kiss drunk, Davey waves in the general direction of a silver Camry.
They separate just long enough to pile into Davey’s car. Jack has a split second to note that the interior suits him perfectly—the front seats are clear and tidy, but there’s some sort of carefully maintained madness going on in the backseat, a mountain of binders, folders, paperwork, and other clutter shoved into every available space—before he’s overwhelmed by the smell.
Because he’d thought it had been bad in Davey’s office, but it’s nothing compared to what it’s like to be in his car, layers upon layers of of Davey’s scent embedded into each and every surface, easily overpowering the weaker notes of paper, ink, and the vanilla air freshener he’s got hanging from the rear view mirror.
“Alright?” Davey asks, noticing his reaction, fumbling to get his keys into the ignition.
“Jus’ drive,” Jack says instead of answering, gritting his teeth.
It’s easily the most painful car ride of his life: the moment Davey gets the car started, Jack’s rolling down all the windows an inch or three, hoping the crisp autumn air will help him keep his head on straight. Davey peels out of the parking lot like a goddamn getaway driver, hands locked in a death grip around the steering wheel, and it would almost be hilarious if Jack wasn’t harder than fuck, his dick straining against the fly of his pants like he’s sixteen all over again, going through his first rut.
It takes every last bit of strength to keep his hands to himself, to clench his fists, clench his jaw, and not touch, not taste. He doesn’t dare do more than glance at Davey⁠, whose shoulders are stiff with tension, his glasses slowly slipping down the bridge of his nose. Doesn’t dare check to see if he’s feeling the same relentless pull that Jack is⁠—not when he’s two seconds from just saying fuck it and begging Davey to pull over because he’s gonna combust, gonna burn up from the inside out⁠—
“Jack,” Davey suddenly pleads, breathing hard through his mouth, and Jack realizes that scent has gotten more than a little out of control as his mind wandered.
“Sorry,” he grunts, doing his best to reel it back in.
It could’ve been ten minutes or ten hours, but Davey eventually pulls up in front of an apartment complex. He leads the way up far too many flights of stairs, two fingers hooked around two of Jack’s own, pulling him along so quickly that Jack has to half-jog to keep up with him. He drags him around a corner then down a hallway, then they finally, finally, come to a halt next to one of the doors, the welcome mat out front greeting them with a snarky:
Welcome …ish.
(Depends on who you are and how long you stay).
As long as he’ll have me, Jack thinks instantly, heart skipping a beat in his chest.
Davey’s fighting with the keys on his key ring, hindered by the fact that he keeps looking at Jack instead of focusing on what he’s doing, the frantic jingling underscoring the tension that’s building between them. Jack reaches out like he’s gonna help him⁠, somehow—as if he has any clue what Davey’s apartment key looks like⁠—and ends up pushing him up against the door he’s trying to open instead, craning up into his space like a flower seeking the sun.
“Hi,” Davey says.
“Hi,” Jack says.
“This…” Davey pauses, taking a shuddering breath. “This is not helping.”
“It really isn’t,” Jack agrees, because he knows that, he does, but⁠— “But I don’t know how’ta stop.”
Davey draws him up into another kiss, and they get lost in each other for another short eternity until the clang of Davey’s keys falling from his hand prompts them to separate.
“We should… inside,” Jack manages.
“I was trying,” Davey complains, but there’s no bite to his tone, only fondness, and he’s got his fingers curled around Jack’s belt loops, tugging him ever closer. “But someone just couldn’t help himself⁠—”
“Shuddup,” Jack murmurs, kissing him again.
It takes several more tries but they eventually make it inside. If Jack was thinking about it⁠—if he had the brain power left to think⁠—he would’ve expected something like what happened in the car: the smell of Davey, Davey, and more Davey, washing over him from ever direction. And he would’ve been right, but not, because it’s absolutely overwhelming, but it’s not the spiced-citrus scent he’s quickly become addicted to.
Instead it’s the sour stink of heartbreak, burnt and pungent, that floods his senses.
Jack’s whirling around in an instant, pulling Davey in again but this time just to hold him, just to tuck him against his chest, cradle him in his arms. Davey allows it at first, wraps Jack up in his arms the same way Jack is doing to him, but he must notice the way Jack’s scent has changed because he pulls back, his expression pinched with concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and the genuine worry in his voice is just more salt in the wound.
“Are you okay?” Jack asks, because it’s making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, how wrong that smell is, and knowing it’s because of Jack, accidental or otherwise, is making it worse.
“Am I…? Oh.” Davey’s gaze falls. “I didn’t even think…”
He gives a tiny shrug, attempts a smile, but it settles across his face all wrong. “We didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”
“‘M sorry,” Jack says, rubbing a soothing hand over his back. “I swear, if I’d had any idea what was goin’ on I woulda⁠—”
Davey stops him with a kiss, soft and gentle.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “You didn’t know. And even if you had…” Another shrug. “I was handling it.”
“Don’t seem like you were handlin’ it,” Jack mutters, taking another breath, that acrid scent stinging his nose. “Seems like you were real upset.”
“I was handling it,” Davey says again, which really isn’t the reassurance he thinks it is.
“Yeah, but—“ Jack doesn’t get any more chances to press because Davey pulls him in, tucks his nose into the space behind Jack’s ear and inhales, his lips a gentle tease against his skin, and whatever else he might’ve said is lost to heat.
To slipping his hands under the hem of Davey’s shirt, grazing his hands over the line of his waist, the vee of his hips. To trailing a line of biting kisses down the column of his neck, to mouthing at the sharp line of his collar bones, then pressing his teeth oh so gently against his swollen scent gland. To wanting, wanting, wanting.
Davey groans at the contact, coiling his arms around Jack’s shoulders until their bodies are plastered flush against each other. He gives just as good as he gets, burying his fingers in Jack’s hair and sealing their lips back together, hot and hungry.
“Bedroom,” Davey pants into Jack’s mouth.
“Uh huh,” Jack agrees, letting his hands slide down to cradle under Davey’s thighs, then bending at the knee and lifting him up off the ground in one fell swoop.
Davey rears back, startled, his legs locked around Jack’s waist like no one’s ever picked him up before⁠—he’s tall, sure, but it ain’t like he’s heavy⁠—then his eyes turn dark, his scent spiking into something utterly mouthwatering.
“Where…?” Jack’s walking blindly, doing his best not to bump into anything while Davey licks into his mouth with a sort of single minded focus that threatens to turn his legs into jelly. He stops about halfway down the hallway, craning up for another kiss. “Where’m I goin’? Which door’s your bedroom?”
“Should’ve thought about that before you started hauling me around, huh?” Davey murmurs against his lips.
“Like you don’t love it,” Jack retorts, rocking their hips together, slow and filthy.
“You’re a menace,” Davey says, and Jack can feel the whisper of his breath against his face, the muscles in his thighs flexing and clenching beneath his hands, the warmth of his skin pressed flush against him, and every sensation is more enticing than the last.
“Guilty as charged, sweetheart,” Jack shamelessly confirms, shifting a hand down to grope at Davey’s ass.
Davey arches into him, his hands twisted up in Jack’s collar, urging him up until they can slot their mouths together again. Jack presses him back into the wall more firmly, his grip tightening instinctively as his hips grind forward, sparks of pleasure fluttering behind his eyes.
“Oh,” Davey sighs, head falling forward after a particularly heady thrust, hips twitching up for more of that delicious friction, his honey-citrus-spice scent spiking hot and sweet in the air, and Jack almost can’t breathe through how badly he wants him. “Oh, that’s… mmn.”
“Dave,” Jack says—begs, really—slipping further and further into the molten depths of his rut. “Point me towards the nearest bed or—“ He bites back a groan as Davey presses a sucking kiss to the bolt of his jaw. “—Or we’re about ta get real familiar with this stretch of wall.”
“That really isn’t the threat you probably think it is,” Davey replies, and he takes Jack’s earlobe between his teeth and tugs.
“You’re a real smartass, ain’t’cha,” Jack manages, breathing hard against the onslaught. “And a goddamn tease.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is dedicated,” Davey offers, undeterred from his efforts, wrestling the top few buttons on his dress shirt open, and there’s the soft drag of his lips over Jack’s pulse point, the wet heat of his tongue.
“No,” Jack grinds out, hips bucking forward of their own accord. “I definitely meant tease.”
He can feel Davey’s answering smile against his skin, then his knees nearly buckle out from underneath him when Davey leans in to swirl his tongue over the hollow of his throat.
“Fucking hell,” Jack groans. “We’re gonna kill each other.”
“Is that a promise, darling?” Davey purrs, low and heated, and Jack can’t help the growl that tears out of him in response, capturing Davey’s mouth in a biting, bruising kiss.
“Bedroom,” he orders.
32 notes · View notes
plaidcushion · 1 year
Note
1, 7, 14, 22, 26, 30
1. Art programs you have but don't use
i got clip studio when it was on sale literally years ago with the intention of finally learning how to do digital art and still havent touched it lol whoops
for the trad art equivalent... i have a few little miniature house sets that i havent gotten around to... and a gnome painting kit...
7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate
miniature painting/making is really really cool and i always want to dabble... my studio is already full to bursting with aspirational projects though lol
14. Any favorite motifs
i keep making floaty women who are good at lying and have curly white hair. i dont know what this means
22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any
lol
i havent actually strained my hands much over the years, but i fidget by rolling my wrists a lot and i think that keeps em stretched.
26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended
the original sketch for this one had the void lower and my partner pointed out that it looked like a pregnancy/fertility metaphor, which was VERY unintended haha. moved it up into the chest and narrowly avoided awkward questions at my exhibition
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30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated
i dont really understand why or when my art actually appeals to people? it feels like my faves are very different to what the general public like... i guess for tumblr specifically i was surprised this one didnt make much of an impact! fanart usually does better than original stuff but it only got a handful of notes.
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libra-arts · 2 years
Text
A Meeting In The Stars - Avatar oc short story
Author’s Note: So, this is a little short story I write about my newest OCs. They’re from the James Cameron Avatar movie and I am so in love with these characters. I had watched the movie not too long ago and my brain just latched onto that hyperfixation so quick. So naturally I drew up a self-insert-esk character but then it grew from that into the two OCs I have now. Their names are Professor Amias Song (a human thats a part of the avatar program) and Näpu Te ‘Aiey Noihi’itan (Na’vi native of the Omaticaya clan). This story if of how they first met! Also the gif is obviously Neytiri but the scene kinda mirrors what happens at one point in the story.
Synopsis/Blurb: Amias likes to sketch and paint the forest in his downtime but it seem like that got him into a bit of trouble this time around. Good thing a certain Na’vi hunter was close by to save the day. And possibly make a new friend while at it.
Possible TW(the only ones I can think of): Canon typical violence, descriptions of pain
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It was surprisingly quiet in the Pandora forest as I sat on the ledge of a river rock. The scenery is absolutely gorgeous and the weather was calm, a perfect day to sit outside and draw. My tasks from Grace were completed for the week so now I get to do as I please for the time being until I’m given a new assignment. So what else is there to do on a stunning planet like Pandora than sit outside with my Avatar body as I sketch the landscape of the river in front of me. But all was not calm apparently.
I was so engrossed in my work that I had failed to notice the low growling coming from behind me, until it was too late anyway. I heard the crack of a branch and whipped my head behind myself to look and there it was, hunkered low to the ground snarling at me was a viperwolf. Until now I had been very careful with keeping my distance from these animals by staying away from the places I knew that they usually traveled or congregated. We were even sure to survey the area before my placement here to make sure it was clear of any hostile animals. But to my luck it seemed like one had made it through unnoticed.
In an instant the animal jumped at me and I quickly rolled out of the way, wrapping my arms to my body tightly as I held my sketchbook. As the viperwolf recovered from landing in the waters of the river I jumped up and began to book it away from the rocky river and towards the direction of my mobile link. The nice thing about being out here by myself is that the building has a connected structure that allows a space for my Avatar body to rest when not in use next to the site. It is also built with reinforced metals that make it the perfect safe house for instances like this. But I guess that also the downside to being so far out here all by myself, I barely know how to fight and there is no one here to help with that. At least with this body I’m more agile and faster than as a human. But yet, I'm still just as clumsy. 
As I was focused on pushing away the giant leaves and spindly branches from my view I tripped on a root from a nearby large tree. When I hit the ground the wind got completely knocked out of me and my sketchbook went flying forward hitting a tree and landing on the ground. I tried to get up onto my knees but as I started to raise up a heavy weight landed on me and I was pushed down onto the ground. The viperwolf growled above me as I winced at its claws sinking into my flesh. It burned like hell, I couldn't move, the air from my lungs was gone and I didn't know what to do. As the animal's claws dug deeper into my skin all I could do was hiss at the pain. I was afraid, I thought I was a goner and this body that took years to create was going to become fertilizer for the plant life around me and dinner for the animal digging into my back. But, just as I thought my luck had finally run out, the sounds of an arrow cutting through the air and piercing the skin of the viperwolf hit my ears. The animal toppled over and off of my back scurrying back. 
I gasped at the relief and turned my head towards the direction the arrow came from. My eyes widen at the sight of a Na’vi standing several feet from me with a bow in hand. He readied his bow and shot another arrow, at this I flinched and closed my eyes. Again I was sure of my death, sure that arrow was meant for me but instead of feeling the stabbing of the arrow in me I heard the faint cry of the viperwolf. I opened my eyes and looked to see the creature now laying down on its side with both arrows in its body, its breath was shallow and it barely moved. The Na’vi hunter slowly made his way around me and to the animal. He crouched down and began to speak, I couldn't understand him. I could only pick out a few of his words as I tried to sit myself up off the forest floor. “Brother”, “spirit”, “Eywa” and “body” were all I was able to make out. Maybe if I had paid more attention to Grace’s language lessons I would have been able to tell what he said. 
I’m able to get myself onto my knees, but as I begin to stand, however, pain shoots up my back and I let out a hiss in pain, falling back onto my knees and curling myself forward. I hug myself and shut my eyes as the pain spreads through my body, my head almost touching the ground and my eyes beginning to brim with tears. I wasn’t ever good with pain, even in this body. The crunching of leaves can be heard as the Na’vi man makes his way towards me. He crouches down next to me. A tear falls from my eye as I breath sharply through my teeth. I can feel his hand as it gently touches my wounds. I couldn't help but snap at him when he does, hissing at him. The touch, although light, burnt like a branding iron on my skin. We both widen our eyes at this. He draws back his hand and holds both of his hands up.
I sigh and turn away from him, again curling into myself and say, “I’m sorry. I don't know what came over me. It really really burns when you touch it. I’m sorry.” I looked up to him, not knowing if he would understand me or not. There was a lot of me that hoped he did.
In response he pointed to a small pouch on his hip and slowly began to take out its contents. It looked to be a small jar with a semi transparent blue gel inside it and what looked to be some type of gauze. We watched each other, he slowly opened the jar and glanced at me to gauge my reaction while I watched his every move, not entirely sure if I trusted him quite yet. He was slow, taking a bit of the gel onto his fingers and slowly hovered his hand above the wounds on my back. He gave me a look, almost asking permission. I slowly nodded, letting him apply the gel. Honesty, he was probably my best bet in getting patched up and back to base in one piece after what I just went through. He steadily applied the gel to my wounds. It burned for only a second but then it became cooling. 
I let out a breath, not realizing I was holding it in and relaxed under his touch. My grip on myself loosened as he finished and grabbed the gauze. I looked at him with a questioning look. He smirked slightly as he motioned for me to sit up straight. I did so and he shifted himself behind me. I felt as he touched my arms that were at my side and raised them up. I held up my arm for him as he began to wrap my torso and chest with the material making sure to cover the wounds on my back. When he was done I turned around to face him, already feeling better by the mysterious healing gel he used.
“Thank you.” I said with a smile.
He nodded and opened his mouth to begin to speak but before he did something caught both of our eyes. A small floating white jellyfish looking creature floated its way down towards us. He looked at this creature with such intensity, I on the other hand couldn't help but smile in astonishment. I had seen pictures and read about these things but had never encountered them. As it made its way down between us I raised both of my hands up creating a cup shape. It landed in my hands and my smile grew bigger. I looked up to the man across from me and our eyes met.
“I can’t believe it! I’ve only ever seen pictures of these! I never thought I’d get to see one in person! Isn't this cool?!”
He looked at me confused for a second, and then I realized that he probably still couldn't understand me. But before either of us could react again the creature began to float up and away. I let my hands follow it up and into the air above us. One arm falls to my side as the other stays up while I watch it float away. The Na’vi takes a hold of the wrist on my outstretched arm and brings it in front of him. He seems to be inspecting my hand?
“Wha-”, and before I could ask what he was doing he cut me off.
“What are you?”
His voice was rough, and in shock my eyes widened. He spoke english. I froze for a minute before I snapped out of it with his grip tightening. I begin to stutter out a response to his question.
“I-I… W-Well in this body I’m what is considered an Avatar of sorts but I’m pretty sure your people call us dreamwalkers.” At this his grip loosens but he still holds my wrist. “You speak english?” He looks directly into my eyes with the same intensity he was looking at the floating jellyfish with and it takes me back a little. 
“Yes, little. I learned from others in my clan.”
“You must be from the Omaticaya clan then, right? Grace was teaching some of them english.”
“Yes..” He lowers his hand and releases my wrist. “But you are far from the skypeople’s base. Why are you here this far?”
“I have my own base out here. We thought that it was clear from any dangerous animals so I was allowed my own remote place to work. Seems I was wrong about that though.” I said as I mentioned towards the viperwolfs body still laying a few feet away. 
He begins to ask, “Where is-”
But I cut him off as realization hit me, “Oh! My sketchbook!” I quickly stood up and rushed over to the abandoned book behind me. I picked it up and inspected it, checking it to make sure it hadn't gotten ruined. The outside looked fine so I opened it and began to flip through to pages and check over my sketches and watercolor piece. I landed last on the piece I was working on just a few minutes ago. Thankfully the only thing that got messed up were a few sporadic pencil markings from when I had to roll out of the way. I released a breath and smiled.
“Oh thank the gods it's okay. I was so worried that- AAAAA!” I turned my head to the side and met the man face mere inches from mine. I jumped back and snapped shut the book I was holding. I held my hand to my chest to steady my rapidly beating heart. “Jeez man, you scared the shit out of me.”
He pointed to the book in my hand and with a raised eyebrow said, “You created those? Art of our world? Why?”
“Oh, well..” I relaxed and stepped closer to him, opening the book and showing him from the beginning the pieces I've created. As I spoke I slowly flipped through the pages, “I have this passion for plants and animals, but more specifically plants. It's why I became a botanist, to study and get to know the intricacies of these plants better. This planet’s fauna is some of the most beautiful and down right gorgeous I have ever seen. The artist in me can’t help but draw it for myself sometimes.” He watches intently as I flip the pages but stops me on one watercolor piece. He touches the paper lightly, tracing the shapes of the giant tree on the page. 
“Kelutral…” he says in Na’vi.
“Hometree right? I actually got this picture when they first moved my base out here. It’s also one of my favorites I’ve created during my time here.” He lowers his hand and looks at me. And again, our eyes meet, his piercing golden yellow eyes scanning my face. It's almost as if he’s looking for something, maybe some kind of dishonesty in my expression so he had a reason to not trust me. It seems as though he didn't find whatever it was as he spoke up.
“Your base, are you alone?”
I hesitate to answer, but my reasoning has me answer him truthfully, he has helped me after all so he deserves my honesty, “Yes, it's just me.”
He places his hand on my shoulder, with a worried tone he speaks, “You do not fight, you have no protection. You should not be here alone.”
“Well, I’m usually pretty well off. It was my mistake for not noticing that viperwolf earlier and for not paying attention to my surroundings and tripping on a root. This is the only time something like this has happened.” I take a step back and his hand falls. “Why would you worry about someone like me anyway? I thought the Na’vi don't like outsiders, especially ones like me.”
He stands frozen at this. I can almost see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks of how to respond. It took him a minute before he spoke again. “You are different. Eywa gave a sign.”
“Eywa? What makes you think that your god has anything to do with me?”
“The seed of the sacred tree, it chose you. A pure spirit, it was attracted to you.”
I raised my eyebrow, “The floating jellyfish thing?”
He gets closer to me again, getting really close to my face and looking me over, “Yes the.. jellyfish… thing. You are not like them… but how?” At that he tilted his head. So, that's what those things are? I understand his curiosity. I wonder what that could mean for me? I wasn't sure what to do at that moment so I did the only thing I could think of, to make my way back to the base.
“Okay, well thanks for helping me with my wounds but I should really start heading back now” I pushed aside one of his arms and made my way around him and began to walk away.
“H-Hey!” He yelled to me and at this I attempted to walk father but he was easily able to catch up to me. He grabbed my arm and turned me back around to face him, “Night falls soon, you should not travel alone. Let me come with you. I can protect you.”
“Oh no, that's alright. I’ll be fine on my own.” I try to pull away from him but he doesn’t let go. “Dude, again thank you for helping me but I really need to get back.”
I could tell he didn't want to let go, and at my hesitation he blurred out, “I have an offer for you.”
I stop for a moment, “An… offer?”
“Yes, let me protect you here. This is where I hunt most days. I can help you this way. And I will teach you about the plants. Yes?” 
“You’ll come here and protect me from the animals and in turn will teach me about the plant life on this planet?”
“Yes, if you will let me.”
What this man was offering was information I will probably never be able to learn without the aid of a Na’vi native. This was an opportunity of a lifetime to be able to learn about this land in a more in-depth and practical way rather than scientific. But he is also a stranger, someone I barely even knew. Plus, I don't even know this man's name.
I shake my head, “I don’t even know your name.”
He smiles and releases his hand from me and places it on his chest, “I am Näpu Te ‘Aiey Noihi’itan.”
“Oh.. well, Näpu. The name’s Amais Song.” A smile creeps onto my face, “I accept your offer but on one condition.”
“That is?”
I step towards him and swing my arm on his shoulder, and start my way towards the base and say, “I also get to teach you skypeople culture, like music and arts and so on. How about that?”
He stumbles at first but then begins to walk in line with me, “Yes, and can teach you ours as well.”
“An exchange of information for our mutual benefit! Perfect!” I look at him and smile. He looks at me confused for a second, not understanding my words, but smiles when he notices mine. With that we make our way to my base. 
And that was how I met Napu and I am more than lucky to have met him that day. Not only to save my life, but to open my eyes. I couldn't be more thankful to Eywa for that. 
End of video log.
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14. 🍋 and 🐝
Question 14 of the artist asks (Im sorry ive been sitting on this one for so long aaa): How has your art changed over the years?
My art hasnt changed much honestly! i've gotten better at watercolor painting, and acrylic paints, and i'm getting the hang of digital too! - 🍋
🐝 - ...Oh boy, another long history lesson today, Strap in. To keep things a little easier on me to keep condensed, I'm only going over my traditional pony art and NOT digital art. (Im not sure how much of the digital art i could even recover anymore)
TL;DR I've gone through many phases in my art, both pony and otherwise. I started out drawing ponies in 3rd of 4th grade in a very cartoon style, then trying to copy the show style, then with anime eyes to varying success, and finally to where i am now.
Alright so long ass history lesson:
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This is my earliest attempt at making my own ponysona; i was really into applejack and wanted my pony to be in the apple family! This oc didnt really go anywhere though, and i dont think i drew her again. This was also early on, before i started following tutorials for drawing ponies.
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A bit later, after drawing ponies while following tutorials for a while, I started trying to draw them in my own style. At the time, I was mostly trying to draw in an anime style with my humanoid drawings, and so the big eyes transferred over. During this time, most of my drawings were in blue ballpoint pen on notebook paper or printer paper. I was drawing a lot during my (online) classes and I would fill out pages and pages like this.
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While i wasnt using tutorials as often anymore, i still watched a LOT of pony drawing content. At some point, i discovered some videos that inspired me to expand how i drew even more, and i started adding more graphite and colored pencil into final drawings.
Videos in question:
-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSmSN3VtdD0
-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTyMx2H-nuI
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A bit later, i also got into creepypasta drawings for mlp and some of the songs (specifically for rainbow factory), but i didnt ever read or listen to MLP creepypastas on their own until much much later. I did however, write my own two page creepypasta comic for pinkie that i never kept up. I think i intended to but after 24 hrs i forgot and dropped the project. Ironically, I tried to redraw it a few years ago as a humanoid comic, stretching it out into i think...10 pages? until my hand got tired and I never actually got to the creepypasta part of the original first comic page. (If you'd like to see, let me know! I still have them, but there would be too many images to post in this already really long post)
Oddly enough, i noticed that around this time i was also mostly drawing either creepypasta, psychotic ponies, or drawing ponies sad and crying. Just a weird little note.
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I had a short phase where i drew ponies with more boxy muzzles too, but most notable here is that i finally remade a ponysona! I would keep this sona until I would stop engaging with MLP content and go through my "Ew, mlp weird" phase.
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This was also from my time of boxy nosed ponies, and I think the first image was inspired off of a drawing that came up on a google search but i dont remember. I redrew it a while later, after practicing with colored pencils more. The redraw happened sometime during my "Ew mlp" phase.
And now we enter more current stuff. all these drawings are still old but are more in line with what i draw now, and were while i was starting to come out of my "Ew mlp" phase.
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First image, you can see this is one of the first times I drew Lucious as a pony. At the time, in the main rp he's from he was still just straight up a demon. And in the second image is a sketch dump of the mlp characters, where i was jut getting more comfortable drawing them again. Still held onto those boxy noses though.
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No style change here, but there was a time in my humanoid art where i would draw my and Mocha's characters as royalty. Then i went and drew them as ponies in those outfits! the first image you can see Cinna as an alicorn, and an early version of Lemon was just a unicorn. In the second image, was one of my first attempts to draw Jaysir! I guess its not too far off.
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Last is just this pencil drawing of Lemon when their name was still Lemon Sugar-Moon! After this point, i think i took another break from drawing ponies until we come to current day where my style of drawing ponies has less boxy noses, and more pointy, less realistic and just a bit more fun for me personally :D
Who knows where my pony art will go next! Thank you for your ask and I'm sorry again that this has taken so long for me to finally just sit down and type out lol
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christinelindstrom · 7 months
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Lately, my depression has moved in and set up a room in my life again. It’s hard to pull myself out of these seasons when they start, but I know that taking care of myself with little things can be the beginning of a way to turn it around. ⁣
I will never forget a morning in Jamaica about 17 years ago when I felt what it was like to feel pure joy over food. ⁣
I had saved up enough to go on one of those all inclusive vacations, and the breakfasts were so simple, but I could have lived in those breakfasts my whole life. ⁣
The day we got the salmon, bagel and fruit option, I lingered over every tropical, fresh, salty, savory bite. ⁣
So, today, I decided I could recreate that little moment for myself. I’ve been making sure to add as much tropical fruit to my diet as I can now that I’m back in Florida, and papaya is actually a powerhouse of a fruit! ⁣
(Most people don’t realize the seeds are actually full of a plethora of nutrients, enzymes and anti-inflammatory properties.)⁣
I’ve slowly been getting into the #alphabetsuperset challenge, and will hopefully have the mental strength to finish my first piece. The sketch turned out just how I wanted it to! The first illustration for A is an Avocado Jalapeño Margarita 🥑🌶️🍹! Painting food has been a thing for me since I was 16, (I did my senior project in college of all food!) So I’m super excited to keep this project going!⁣
And finally, the last slide is kind of keeping my spirits up - samples for the foil and card stock for my oracle deck! I say “kind of” because that project is going to take so much more time than I had expected, and that’s part of what’s bringing me down. ⁣
It’s hard when creativity pays the bills, and you finally realize your neurodivergence has made it difficult to find a suitable alternative. So, when I take on a big project in this two second attention span world, it gets kind of scary that I still need to bring in income. ⁣
Any support I receive is more appreciated than anyone probably realizes 🤍
http://makeyourlifeaworkofart.com
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dzpenumbra · 9 months
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7/15/23
6 AM. The creaks got me at 6 AM today. On a Friday morning. They were stomping around at midnight. They were stomping around at 2 AM, when I was writing my journal last night. Then they were up at 6, to the point where I just got up... after about an hour and a half of sleep... and again at 8. I don't even know when these people sleep. I don't even know how to sync my sleep schedule with them because it's just been constant and completely unpredictable.
Well... I just came down from jamming two improvised shims into the gap between the floor beam and the molding. I think it's just shoddy craftsmanship, a crap-build closet with cheap molding and the sound is likely the nail creaking inside the wood? Or something similar, I'm not well versed in this shit. But I was, through somewhat creepy and obsessive fixation and patience, able to identify the exact beam that was making the noise by... standing there and waiting. Just standing there for half an hour and just... waiting and watching. And sure enough... thump thump thump CRAAAACKcrackcrack thump thump And I took one of my cheap-ass foam brushes from 4 years ago that I never use and ripped off the foam top and whittled the handled into a wedge. I rammed that in between the beam and the molding, then waited. And waited. And sure enough, it made a difference. Not a huge difference... but a difference. So I just got done putting in a second one a few inches over on the beam, closer to the nail. And the footsteps have stopped, so I have no idea whether this worked or not. I guess I'll see in about... hmm... what time is it... 1:30? 4.5 hours? XD Oh god. Yep, this is what my life has become.
I really don't know what else to do, it's been 5 fucking days. I'm so delirious that I'm actually feeling high. I actually feel somewhat stoned. Like... "on the edge of freakout", "things are getting a bit surreal" stoned. So... I'm thinking I might as well just take a low-dose of the tincture tonight and go for it.
I went back to bed at 8AM and put my headphones in. I put on a binaural sleep thing and cranked the volume. It worked. But, again... only got about 5 more hours because the fucking batteries died. I'm still so pissed about that, they work really well when they work, but this battery life is just ridiculous. So, I just got up. I felt more rested than I had in a bit. 5 hours is a lot compared to 1. Plus, I had to be awake to get my groceries.
Today was basically a chill at home and get stuff done around the house day. Groceries, shower, more bead work, laundry. I was going to go skating despite the sleep deprivation, but the weather kept saying thunderstorm warning. The thunderstorms were supposed to start at 4 or 5, they started around 8. And they were intense, but short lived. So... I could've skated. Which sucks, but it is what it is.
The big thing from today was... I finally did my Instagram post for my hoodie. I even had some progression pictures from last fall to add in, from when the hoodie was just a freehand sketch in white pencil, progressing all the way up to the painted final product. I told the whole backstory, it was nice. It's been up for about 5 hours now. It has gotten 2 likes.
It isn't about numbers, it isn't about fortune or fame. It's about the work actually getting out there and finding people who like it, who want to see more, who want to support me in creating what I create... so I can pay my rent... And it shocks me how scam artists can find me like a fly finding dog shit, but somehow Instagram's professionally crafted perfection of an algorithm can't seem to find a way to get my art in front of people who are looking for that type of content. Hmm... must be my fault. Maybe I didn't Instagram correctly. I must not have played the game properly... hmm... wow, but really impressive how those ads do seem to be fine-tuned to the degree that they feel like they're fucking listening in to your conversations and shit. Really crazy how the ads are perfectly crafted to get companies who pay for ad space priority algorithms which actually work... while all the non-paying cattle can play the popularity game... the parallel algorithm that is designed to snowball popularity. See, I was gonna say... "If only Instagram had a functional algorithm that had a way of getting your posts in front of people who would really really be interested in it... you know... like their... ad... algorithms... oh..." So... I guess fuck me then.
It's not a matter of wanting validation. It's not a matter of wanting a self-esteem boost, though that would be an incredible bonus. It's about establishing a dialogue with an audience. And I can't fucking establish a dialogue... if no one can fucking hear me... because half of their feed is recommended popular accounts they don't even follow, and 1/4 is targeted ads. So yeah, I guess the reason I didn't post it sooner? The reason I'm kinda venting about now. What's the fucking point? One person who was a fan of my streams 3 years ago but has never shown an interest in my art clicked the "cool" button; one stranger did too, which is a bonus, I guess. I guess it's better than just... not posting it? I don't know.
Are people just that jaded now? Idk. I don't wanna go down that road. Whenever I start talking about "people" in the abstract like that it just gets super depressing real quick. Fuck that.
So yeah, that happened. Checked that off the side quest list on my whiteboard. And I decided to at least start sketching for the grip tape art on my trick deck... but I'm really just considering going straight to paint. I just... I have to be careful about layering paint, I have a tendency to layer paint really thick to get nice smooth blending. But thick paint means... less grip. So yeah, no, gotta be careful about that. I started sketching in colored pencil on grip tape. It's... something. It leaves a temporary sketch, kinda... but it's all like chalk dust, the second you touch it... it just comes right off. And it absolutely destroys pencils. So... yeah. I started doing the raven head, I didn't like the sketch... I wiped it off and started to sketch the circles for the mandala and that worked alright. Then it was just really late so I just called it.
The only other thing notable about today was... my meal plan thing. Today I tried one of the meals off of my new meal plan. I'm 100% vegetarian now, except for the fried chicken that was mistakenly delivered to me (instead of rotisserie chicken strips) and sausage that's in my freezer. It wasn't a big leap, and I still eat eggs, so there's that. I tried this meal that was basically like a caprese salad but with whole wheat pasta. And they wanted me to make two servings of it. And I followed the directions... and it was a fucking ton of food. A mountain on a plate. Like... I would not have eaten this much if the meal thing didn't tell me to. I would've eaten like... 2/3 the amount the recipe had me make. I'm fucking stuffed. But it was really light food so... yeah. I don't know. So I'm just kinda confused at this point... what to do diet-wise. I don't think my diet really has to change that much, I just have to be more conscious of calories? I guess? I honestly don't know. It just really caught me off-guard that after getting on this meal planner thing... my meal size went up... Maybe it's just the adding in of the exercise that made a difference. I have lost a visible amount of weight. Maybe I didn't need to change up my diet so much... as I needed to change up how sedentary I had become. But hey, cleaning up my diet a bit, cutting back on the butter and cheese a bit more... it ain't hurting.
The cholesterol is the scary part for me. And I still don't really know what to do about that diet wise... I guess fiber? That's been going well, and replacing milk with almond milk was seamless. Still don't know about eggs and all that. But yeah, honestly? I'm just really hoping I can get this whole sleep situation figured out pronto... because I haven't been exercising the past... 5 fucking days now. I did a full 30 day challenge straight into 5 days of forced insomnia and no exercise. I'm scared to exercise on such little sleep. It does not feel healthy at all. At all.
So yeah. I'm going to take a super low dose of tincture. I put together a playlist of good vibes hippie songs that should keep me from going to a bad place (fingers crossed) if I'm woken up and happen to be high... which is the exact reason why I stopped taking it in the first place. And... I put the shims in the ceiling so the creak noise should be significantly less. I hope. And... I have the AirPod music as an option in my back pocket, but the most it will get me is 6 hours. So... that's the arsenal. Is it enough? Only time will tell.
Oh, one last thing. My beans aren't doing well. The bottom leaves are really wilted and one of them went yellow. I think I overwatered them. I feel horrible for doing that to them, I really don't know how often to water stuff. My tomato loves water, it's watered like twice a week no problem. My Night Blooming Jasmine loves water so much that I had a mold problem in its soil and it flat-out didn't care. The thing has grown like a fucking weed. So... I've been trying to go by soil dryness but... I guess I didn't check well enough and overwatered them. So... I'm going to leave them until the soil is like... super-dry. I'm just not going to touch them at all and pray they don't have root rot. And hopefully they bounce back from this. Everything else is doing pretty damn well. The Pothos are all doing really well, they all have extra leaves now, all nice and healthy - from leaf cuttings in the mail from halfway across the continent to flourishing established plants. The Raven ZZ is just... doing its thing, growing like a damn weed and I'm trying to not stress about it potentially outgrowing its pot. The propagated succulents are doing very well, one failed but the rest are going strong. The chili has 2 peppers and plenty of flowers. The tomato has gone through a ton of flowers but... they just don't seem to be pollenating well. Or... I am not doing a good job helping it pollenate itself. So... I'll try to give it more attention, shake it up a bit. I've just been super gentle with it after its stalk keeled over twice. And that's pretty much the whole gang... the orchid is still kickin, kinda dormant... I haven't been watering it as much as I should because it really really needs distilled water and distilling takes like... a whole fucking day for like a quart of water. So... I'll have to get on that. It's not like I can just not water it. And I still want to plant that basil, I've put that off long enough... so maybe that's tomorrow's goal.
So yeah, that's where I'm at. All just hopes and prayers going forward from here that I can just get sleep fixed so I can get out there in the world. Its such horrible timing. I finally take a giant leap, I get confidence, I want to get out in the world regularly. I have a place to go, I have plans (the trails at the farm nearby and going to the skatepark), and the second I do that... my sleep gets fucked. For an entire week. By college students. I really really hope I get a solution for this soon, because I really don't know what else I can do.
Just a quick tangent. I know this is a PTSD thing. I know it. It's a nervous system thing, a hypervigilance thing. It's a "I'm not feeling safe, there's a wolf at the door" thing. Every time the jets fly overhead confirms it for me, it's not the same feeling. Having the maintenance guy actually enter my apartment validated it too, it was the same feeling, but to a lesser degree because that part of my brain had more information. Yep... this reflex was less severe when someone actually was inside my apartment. Because it's a reflex, it doesn't work by logic's rules. I know it's PTSD, I know it's isolation, I know it's living alone. But I still feel like... the way I put it when I posted in a support group this morning just looking for advice... I feel like I should be able to tank this. Like I should just get over it. Learn how to sleep heavier. Just get better. Or something. Like... I feel like this is somehow my fault, and it's part of living in an apartment, and I shouldn't expect peoples lives to revolve around mine. And I know that's my PTSD talking, my shit self-esteem, my broken self-worth, my self-blame. The problem is... it's partially right. This is part of communal living. And I don't really like this way of living at all. I want nothing more than to be in the forest right now. I just... need to find a way to get people into my life, to meet a community and develop a social network. And I thought moving here would do that... automatically, I guess? I don't know. And my isolation would get super bad in the forest alone, I know that from experience. Not that there are even places in the woods to fucking rent, they're all goddamn AirBnBs bought up by companies during the pandemic and converted into micro theme parks for rich ski bums to pretend they're "quaint and rustic" for a few days and then they sit empty for months at a time. I don't even know if I have any option but to... just somehow magically figure this out.
I found myself crying this morning. Going "I don't want to go on Xanax again. I don't want to go on Seroquel again. I don't want to go on Mirtazapine again. I don't want to eat fistfuls of Benadryl before bed again." Sleep problems are what sent me on meds in the first place. Desperation. Being out of answers, out of options. And going on and off of meds completely fucked up my life. I still haven't recovered. All because I had panic attacks and struggled with sleep from undiagnosed PTSD. That's all. So yeah. This is a pretty tough moment. It's not just... annoying loud neighbors. It's not just laying there with my eyes closed trying desperately not to engage with a gnat swarm of racing thoughts for literal hours at a time. It's not just jumping out of my skin and feeling like my heart is being stretched every time I hear that loud creak. It's the potential implications of what I might have to do if I don't find a non-medication solution for this. And all of the trauma associated with that. It's a doozy.
So... it's not quite as simple as just... someone getting cranky about noisy kids... then rolling over and going back to sleep. This is... someone who has had their life decimated by PTSD, constantly wrestles with agoraphobia... who is jostled awake by sounds sending him into biophysical flashbacks... repeatedly making him relive the physical and emotional sensations of traumatic events... every day. And then has to spend sometimes hours trying to calm his nervous system down enough to even consider sleep, because his heart feels like he just went on a fucking rollercoaster and his mind is racing like he just snorted a fat bump of coke.
But like... try explaining that to a complete stranger... Let me phrase that better... I would have to explain that to a stranger to be taken seriously, and even then it might be a stretch. I would have to expose how fucked my life is, how frail I am... just to possibly get some peace. And even then, there are no promises.
Ugh. And all this because some people just... moved to a top-floor apartment... and walk heel-toe, thumping their entire body weight unto their talus --- DAMN, it's calcaneus. I was close though, not too shabby considering I haven't studied bone anatomy since... 2009, I think?
Okay, enough dreading and dooming. I've done 5 nights of this, I can do one more. Fingers crossed. Goodnight (hopefully). Hey, that's a good song title...
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pygmypouter · 3 years
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it’s not going to be what you imagined, but it’ll be just as good.
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Family Cuddle Pile
a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby
Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince
Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing
Word count: 1,844 
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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 
He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 
His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.
Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 
Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 
Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 
He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 
The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!
Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.
He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.
Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 
“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 
Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 
“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 
“When’s verge-“
“he’ll be home at 4” 
“Dope”
“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”
“Can do scootal-lo!” 
Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 
“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 
“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 
Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 
“That’s really good pat-” 
“Shhhhhhhh”
Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 
---------------------------------------------------------------
“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 
Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 
“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 
Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 
A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.
A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for
“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”
“Puddle” Patton screeched. 
“Kid’s right, Puddle.”
Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 
Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 
Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 
Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 
The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 
The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 
The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 
Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 
Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 
When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 
Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 
----------------------------------------
Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 
He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 
Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 
Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 
The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 
Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.
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