#I'm procrastinating painting so hard
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lay your life down and pretty
various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k
In which you die (or they've already lost you).
tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies
notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3
Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.
You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!
And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.
(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.
Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.
He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)
Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone.
He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.
After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours.
The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.
Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own.
The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.
Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”
Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.
He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.
He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”
It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.
So here he is.
Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.
“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”
You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.
(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)
Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.
Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.
So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.
(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)
Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:
In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.
He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.
Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.
Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?
(She thinks it does.)
You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.
“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”
“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”
Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.
Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life.
“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?
“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”
The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.
She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.
She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees.
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”
Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have.
Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”.
If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact.
It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.
“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”
She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.
Lovers.
The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.
The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.
Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?
(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)
“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.
The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases.
It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.
Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.
“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.
One can only hope.
taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee
#—stellaronhvnters.#dan heng x reader#hsr x reader#hanya x reader#hsr dan heng x reader#hsr hanya x reader#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#danheng x reader#dan heng hsr x reader#hanya hsr x reader#hsr dan heng#hsr hanya#honkai star rail#✧ my works
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Reality • JYH
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Your life was going downhill, there was nothing good about it. But one day you woke up in a different place, the one that brought you happiness.
pairing: reader x yunho
genre : smut, fluff
warnings: sMuT and aDuLt LaNgUaGe?
A/n Dunno how. I'm feeling about this one. I'm not really into writting smutty stuff, I'm all about all the cutesy and giggly stuff(^.^)
"My life is crap" You let out a loud sigh, talking to your friend on the phone.
"Life is crap indeed" She hummed in agreement.
You hated your life and even more hated the fact that you didn't do anything about it. You wanted to change, but had very little enthusiasm about making any.
"I just want to sleep forever" You admitted, as she laughed at you. But there was really nothing much to laugh at.
Most of the time you were working, from morning to late evening. Burnouts followed you everyday, everywhere you went. During the days off, you rotted in bed or sometimes got yourself out of the bed and went to a store. You were really procrastinating. It was hard to understand how you still managed to keep your only friend by your side, when you were so questionable. She had a grip on her life, stable work, a good partner and healthy lifestyle, so unlike you.
Your stomach growled from hunger, so you dropped the call and you fixed yourself some instant ramyeon.
With the dinner being ready, you plopped yourself on a couch and found some videos to play on youtube. Slurping on noodles, you watched your favorite band. They were performing on Inkigayo, it was a live performance and everything was perfect. A simple meal and watching your favorite group was all you needed to make your life a little better.
As their performance was going towards the end, you felt your body giving out . You closed your eyes for a second and dozed off.
A bright light woke you up. You slowly opened your eyes to see that the environment was unfamiliar. You clearly remembered falling asleep on the couch, watching the screen. But now you were in bed, in some room, that wasn't even yours. Was I kidnapped?
The moment you felt the bed dip, your heart skipped a beat. You turned around and saw someone you thought you'd never see. It was him. Yunho. What was he doing in bed with you?
"Hah… that's an odd dream" You laughed to yourself as the man only stared in confusion with his eyebrows furrowed. Not able to understand whether it was a dream or not, you pinched yourself. And surprise, it hurt. Ouch!
"What are you doing baby?" He let out a breathy laugh, finding your behavior rather strange.
"I-I…" You stuttered, still unable to comprehend anything, "weird dream, such a weird dream" you mumbled to yourself.
"Did you have a bad dream?" He asked, plopping himself on his elbow.
"Yeaaahh…" You guessed, still feeling confused. It all felt too real. But it was impossible for everything to be real?
"Are you working today?" With a groan, he lifted himself off the bed, stretching his gorgeous body. You couldn't help, but steal a glance at him, his clothes wrinkled, hair messy, slight tint of pink painted on his cheeks. Such a beautiful sight.
"I- I don't know" You shrugged as you searched for your phone. You didn't go through much struggle, as the phone was right by your side. Taking a closer look at the phone, you noticed it was the same. Trippy
You immediately went straight into your calendar and let out a sigh of relief when you saw that you had no plans marked in the app. It was Saturday.
"I take it as a no" He smiled and headed off to what you assumed was a bathroom. Finally alone, you sat up, your body frozen. If it was a dream, it was a surreal one.
Taking a look around, you inspected the room for any clues. But nothing helped to come to a conclusion so you left yourself thinking you were lucid dreaming or something like that.
"I'm going to practise. You're gonna stay here, or do I drop you home?" Yunho came back into the room, sliding a white shirt over his head, flashing his bare torso in front of your eyes. You quickly turned away, not wanting to stare.
"I-Il stay" You stuttered, picking at your fingers, trying to distract yourself from the impure thoughts.
"Sure" with a smile he picked up his bag and walked up to you. Leaning in, his face moved closer and closer to yours. You slowly began leaning back away from him, as he was getting dangerously close. But in a blink of an eye you were kissed on your forehead by the man in front of you, completely taking you by surprise
"Mhm… You're weird" Yunho once again looked at you, scrunching his nose. He was suspicious of your odd behaviour, but at the same time, you were always weird. So not giving much thought, he left.
"Whoaa" You breathed out as you dropped down on the bed, kicking your feet in the air energetically. You were just kissed. Kissed by Yunho.
With a squeal you got off the bed and ran out of the room. But a collusion awaited for you, as you bumped into something, rather someone, it felt like a cement wall. The moment you lifted your eyes up from the floor, you were met with Yeosang, staring at you.
"Slow down y/n" He let out a soft laugh and continued his way to the entrance door, "you're staying over?" He asked, tying his shoes.
"Yes!" You cheered, overtaken by all of the emotions. You ran over to the living room couch and sat down, excitedly looking around room.
"Oky" he smiled and was ready to leave, but a thought crossed his mind, "no running in the apartament, okay?... We don't need any more accidents" He informed you as you nodded and he disappeared behind the door.
You wanted to stay here forever, but what if it was a dream, how long was it going to last?
Feeling a little hungry, you decided to check the fridge. But to your surprise or not, there wasn't much to choose from. Only condiments and tons of water bottles. So you searched through all of the cabinets and finally found the golden treasure. Instant ramen cabinet. Immediately you grabbed the classic shin ramyeon one and in no time heated everything up.
As soon as you were done, you sat down on the couch and checked your phone. Clicking on the contacts, you scrolled through the dial log. And it showed exactly what you were thinking. There were a lot of calls from Yunho and the guys, leaving you completely unsure whether you were in a dream or had some type of amnesia.
The entire day you spent watching dramas on Tving, occasionally snacking on food. Of course you also snooped around the house, but didn't find anything suspicious.
It startled you, when the doors suddenly swung open, revealing your supposed boyfriend. He looked physically tired, but mentally happy. The genuine smile and his arms wide open, couldn't tell otherwise. It took you a couple seconds to understand why he was so. Of course he wanted a hug. And you being a little socially awkward, didn't know that. The moment you stood up he engulfed you in the hug. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his face buried in your neck. Being hugged so heartfully, it finally felt like home. So you wrapped your arms around his torso and smushed your cheek flat against his chest, squeezing him even more than he was.
"Was I gone for too long?" Yunho pulled away, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as he looked you in your eyes, analysing you.
"As if for an eternity" You breathed out, earning a chuckle from him.
"You're really weird today, I'll give you that" He pecked you on your lips, "let's go to my room, we can do whatever you want" He suggested as you happily agreed and followed him from behind, holding his hand tight.
Once in his room, you sat down on the bed as he went searching for clothes in his closet. Once he found a perfect pair, with a quick kiss on your lips, he went to the bathroom once again, to freshen up. When he came back, he found you in the exact same position, sitting on the bed, patiently waiting.
"Do you want to do anything specific" Running his fingers through his hair, he sat down by your side, himself trying to think of something to entertain yourselves with
"Watch a movie?"
"Okay…any particular movie?" He asked, fetching a tv remote from the coffee table.
"I don't know, maybe something from suggestions?"
"Sure, what type of movie though?"
"A western movie maybe?" You suggested, wanting something fresh, as he nodded and opened the netflix app.
"Let's do it like that. Go to the movie section, then scroll 4 times down and 4 times right" You explained to him and he did so. But it didn't land on a movie you both had in mind.
"This? Really?" Yunho turned to you, with a questioning look on his face.
"Well…It is what it is" You shrugged as he let out a heartful laugh and clicked on the play button, "- get comfortable"
You laid down on the bed, your back resting against the pillows as you watched him close the bedroom door shut.
"Why close the door?"
"I don't want the guys asking why I was watching Fifty Shades of Gray" He calmly explained, laying down next to you. He slid his arm behind your back, so you could rest your head on his chest.
"It's really not that bad"
"How do you know that?" A surprised gasp left his mouth, "whoah, didn't know you watched such movies"
"Everyone has seen it, trust me" You flashed him with a proud smile as his eyes go wide open.
"Well… now everything makes sense" He wondered, leaving you confused.
"What?"
"No nothing, watch the movie" Instead of explaining further, he played the movie.
The beginning went smooth, nothing much happening. Both of you invested in the movie, no words exchanged, until the spicy part came across. That was where things got a little awkward.
You shifted in the bed, wrapping your hand around his torso. As the scene got too much for you, you nuzzled your face into his neck and felt him tensing up.
"You don't like the movie?" He looked down at you, his hand going to your face, gently caressing your rosy cheeks.
"No" you shook your head, placing your hand on top of his.
"Do you want to do something else?" He asked, catching you staring at his lips. He already knew what you wanted. And he wanted it to, so he brought you up on on his lap, now you were straddling him.
You wasted no time, bringing your lips to his, as his hands found their way to rest on your hips. Endless amount of shivers ran down your spine as his lips moved against yours. Gently biting on your lower lip, he gained access to your mouth, diving deeper, eager to get more from you. His hands slid underneath your shirt, fingers running up and down your bare back. Your mind went hazy, from his touch, as you felt your heart stop for a moment, when you felt him tug at your shirt, wanting it off.
"It's getting a little hot, you might want this off?" His voice is suggestive as he keeps on riding the shirt up.
"Me or you?" You quirked an eyebrow and let him take your shirt off. He wasted no time, getting rid of your clothes and let out a satisfied groan once you were left in nothing but a pair of black undergarments.
"Mhm…you're perfect" he latched his lips onto yours, his hands memorising every inch of your body.
Moments later clothes were long gone, as his lips traveled up from your lips down to your chest, leaving wet trails of kisses and bites down your neck. Your back arched at the feeling of his lips brushing past your chest.
While he was busy leaving marks on your body, his hand grazed against your leg, slowly moving up your inner thigh, to where you needed him. An illicit moan escaped your mouth as you felt his fingers working its magic between your legs. Your body was soon covered in goosebumps, as his lips moved against your neck, sucking at the sweet spot and his fingers were drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.
"D-don't stop, p-please" You were a moaning mess, begging him to continue the way he was.
"Wasn't going to" He hushed you, watching your eyes close shut. It was a delightful sight for him to see,the way you folded under his touch. Sensing that you were close, as your thighs were starting to close around his hand, he attached his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing and biting at your skin.
"Let go baby, I've got you" his voice was deep and raspy, as he whispered into your ear. And it was enough encouragement for you, as you came crumbling down under his touch. He didn't stop, making sure you rode out your high to the fullest. Panting heavily, you slumped on him, as his hand grasped your hips, holding you in place.
Taking a moment to catch your breath you lifted your eyes to meet his half hooded eyes. Needy, you kissed him again, as his hands rested against each side of your face, thumbs softly brushing your heated cheeks.
"We haven't even gotten to the good part and you're already out of breath" He teased you, his husky voice sending goosebumps all over your skin. Biting your lip you started moving in his lap, slightly rocking your hips against his hard bulge. He let out a breathy moan, his fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.
"Fuckk…you're driving me insane" he groaned, as you slowly rocked your hips at a torturously slow pace, but he needed more.
Desperate, he pulled away from your enchanting kiss and lifted you up a little, so you could finally end his suffering. He positioned himself right at your entrance and a chain of moans fell off your lips as you sank down.
"Mhmm… fuckk" He groaned, his head falling back, as your body moved against his.
At first you were the one in control, your body moving up and down his shaft, as your lips moved against each other, exploring every inch he had to offer. But soon exhaustion creeped up on you, and he felt you getting slower, so he took the initiative on himself, gripping your hips, he guided you onto his dick and began slowly easing himself into you. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, placing sloppy kisses everywhere as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you with more force.
"M-more I need more" You breathed out, chasing your high, as it was just around the corner. Attentively listening to your needs, his hand went down, applying pressure and drawing circles on your sensitive nub. When he felt your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close, but he abruptly stopped.
"W-why did you stop?" You whined, feeling robbed from all of the sensations.
He didn't say anything, instead flipped you around, so you were underneath him and pushed your legs apart, giving him more space.
"Shh.. " He silenced you with a kiss and thrusted into you again, this time his cock buried even deeper. Chuckling, he watched your eyes roll back from pleasure. He began slowly, working his way to a faster pace, kissing every inch of your neck and chest on the way. You were a painting mess under him, as he was thrusting into you, making sure you would be seeing stars.
"I-I'm close…" You moaned, your arms finding its way to his back, gripping at his back muscles, leaving red marks on his skin.
"I know, I know… Be a good girl and wait just a little" He groaned, as his body tensed up, he knew he was close too and he wanted you to come together. He rested his forehead on top of yours, attaching his lips to yours for a hungry kiss again.
"F-fuck baby, let go" He voiced out the words you were dying to hear and soon the tingling in your abdomen turned into a bliss. Buckling his hips, he hit your sweet spot over and over again, as you came undone under him. Your hips were shaking as you felt him twitch inside and delicate, like music to your ears, moans left his mouth. He kept up the pace, wanting this moment to last as long as possible.
Panting heavily, you opened your eyes and met his eyes staring into yours. He was gazing at you so lovingly, you could swear you saw sparkles in his eyes.
"I'm very lucky to have someone like you, someone so beautiful" He spoke softly as he placed a kiss on your nose.
"I love you" you whispered, running your hand through his messy hair.
"I love you more" He gave you a cheeky smile before kissing you again, not being able to resist the temptations.
"I'll start a shower for us. '' He suggested, lifting his heavy body off of you.
"I'll change the sheets" You offered, looking at the wet patches on the duvet.
"No" He approached your side of the bed and lifted you up in bridal style, "We'll do it later, together, let's go shower now"
The shower didn't last long, as the two of you were exhausted. You quickly cleaned and rinsed your body as Yunho gathered towels and wrapped one around you. While drying yourself off, Yunho changed into his previous clothes and found you a shirt of his to wear.
"Cute" He noted, looking at you drowning in his shirt.
The changing of the sheets was also done fast, as the two of you were eager to go to sleep.
"Y/n take this end please, don't lose it again" Yunho let out a frustrated groan, as you were struggling with changing the sheets. And as soon as everything was done you buried yourself underneath the covers.
"Come here" Yunho pulled you into his embrace, as you found your warmth in him. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes, "sleep well"
And with that you fell asleep. But your sleep was interrupted by an alarm clock ringing, piercing through your ears. As you reached for your phone, you felt the bed empty and cold. You opened your eyes and sadness clouded your mind. You were back in your own room, alone again. It was all just a dream.
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#ateez#ateez x reader#jeong yunho#jeong yunho x reader#yunho fluff#yunho x reader#ateez smut#yunho smut
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Why Me? - Part 8
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)
Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, flashbacks, abuse, blood, violence, getting kicked out, forbidden relationship, swearing, pining
Word Count: 10k (i'm so sorry)
Summary: An insight to the past has you remembering just how hurt you were. You're still refusing to talk to your dad, and he isn't quite sure how to get you to open up. Even after a meeting with Cyclone, you're reminded you still have an entire team ready to back you up. Rooster is ready to apologize and welcome you back, but are you? (Also, can dogfight football really fix everything?)
A/N: Wow, I really didn't mean for it to get this long but here we are. But also I did procrastinate my homework to do this, and I don't regret it. I hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs literally make me cry tears of joy, happy reading!
Masterlist
10 years ago
Driving your beat up Toyota Corolla down the streets to your mom’s extravagant home was nothing new to you. The anticipatory anxiety wasn’t new either. You had memorized your mom’s work schedule to know when she would or wouldn’t be home when you got back from school, but lately it’s been a little erratic. Almost as much as she was. So was the real estate market you supposed.
You sigh in relief when you don’t see her car in the driveway. In these moments you thanked her husband for owning three cars and parking them all in the garage. You, of course, get to park on the street, which added a couple extra dents to your car that weren’t there before, but you weren’t one to complain. Disappointed maybe, that your pride and joy you spent your summers working at the local smoothie joint to afford, was a little more rough around the edges than when you purchased it.
You check the mailbox at the curb before going in. Of course it was empty. It became a habit ever since you applied to USNA to check the mailbox daily, hopefully to intercept the good or bad news before anyone else could see it.
The house is quiet as you enter, all three of your step-siblings must be with their mom. And Bret, your step-dad, doesn’t get home until after 5:00 most days, leaving you to your own devices. Even if you wanted to do something fun with the house to yourself, you never dare. The second your mom comes home she would notice if a single crumb was left in the sink. You have been on the receiving end of her anger at the state of the house too many times to count, even if it was Bret’s kids who made it. But of course, she wasn’t going to get mad at them. It always ended up being your fault somehow.
Still, you grab a snack and try carefully not to drop any of the pretzels as you go to your room. It was homework all the time in your last semester of High School. You were still waiting to hear from the Naval Academy, but you wanted your good grades to follow through to the very end of the year. Hours of taking notes kept your hand cramped, but it would all be worth it in the end. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. You had spent the last four years working ridiculously hard to maintain your grades, all in the hopes of getting the opportunity your dad and Bradley weren’t afforded. Of course, you’ll never know if Bradley would have been accepted anyway. Which is why you were all too happy to keep this little secret to yourself.
Only a couple short hours later you hear the front door unlock and slam shut. It rattles you out of the Physics textbook you were intently studying, as you straighten up. Whatever she was mad about, it wasn’t good. It was the sound of her heels clacking up the stairs that set you on edge. As they get louder and closer to your room, you turn to face her right as she throws the door wide open. Privacy not a concept she was familiar with. You don’t even notice the bundle of mail in her hand as her eyes glare absolute daggers at you.
“Hi mom, how was work?”, you attempt to start the conversation civilly. It paints you more as a mouse, the way it comes out in a squeak. Her manicured claws squeeze harder around the letters as she throws all but one onto the floor.
“What is this?”, she seethes, holding out the large envelope addressed to you. Your blood runs cold as your shaky hands take it from her and the USNA insignia in the top left corner is revealed.
“I-”, you swallow, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”, she blinks.
“I’m sure it’s some sort of recruiting thing they send to all seniors”, you try to reason. She clicks her tongue, folding her arms.
“Then open it and let’s find out.” There is no room for argument as she raises her brows for you to continue, her eyes still alight with pure rage. Your heart beats faster as your shaky fingers slowly tear open the envelope. They don’t stop as you withdraw the paper. Tears start to form in your eyes as you read the first line of the letter. The excitement you had for any of this is quickly overrun by fear as your mom interrupts you.
“Read it outloud.” Swallowing, you clear your throat without giving her a look and start to read.
“Dear Miss Mitchell, congratulations. We are pleased to offer you an appointment to the United States Naval Academy…”, your voice wavers off toward the end. The moment you had so looked forward to was being tainted as you spoke. You begin to chew on your lip as your eyes slowly make their way back to your mom. Her jaw is set as she stares you down. “Mom-”
“I don’t even know where to start with you”, she seethes. “After years and years of wasting my own life to give you one, this is how you repay me? By throwing it all away, and for what? The chance to be like your father? Or- or Carole’s kid who can’t even be bothered to talk to you anymore?” The use of Carole’s name has you snapping your head back from where it hung in fear.
“Don’t talk about them.” She scoffs at your tiny show of courage.
“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me! You’re not going.” She says with an edge of finality.
“What?”
“You aren’t going. That is final. No daughter of mine will be sucked into this trap.” Staring back down at your lap, you hope to find one last bit of courage sewn within the denim of your jeans.
“Mom, I’m- I’m going”, you manage to stutter out.
“No you’re not”, she bites back. “You know how I feel about your father, about this, and for some reason I just can’t get through to you.” She scoffs again and paces around your room, heels clicking with each step. You stand as she inspects the picture frames on your bookshelf, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke something of yours, and you want to be able to stop it if it happens again. “Do you know how much I gave up to raise you? How hard it was- is to be your mother?” What she says doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you were younger, but it still stings every time. Like rubbing salt in an old wound that didn’t heal properly.
“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world”, you defend, your voice raising slightly. “And I’m sorry if it was so hard to be my mom, but you’re the one who brought me back after every summer. You could have left me with my dad if I was that much of a burden to you!” Before you’re able to register it, she’s moved closer and has her claws wrapped around your arms, pushing you against your desk. In her heels she’s only a couple inches taller than you, but it feels much bigger as she towers over you.
“Do NOT talk back to me you ungrateful brat!” Her fingers grow tighter as she shakes you. You blink rapidly as you wince in pain. “Your father is my biggest regret in life. I wouldn’t have wasted all those years raising his child just to know you would end up being just like him.” She steps away, gathering her thoughts as she turns her back to you. You thought it was only possible to feel fear when in your mother’s presence, even if you were ever angry it was quickly tamped down by the threat of her own rage. This feeling now is new. The one that has you clenching your fists, gathering the courage from the back of your mind to say something. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s all come down to this one boiling point. And you weren’t about to give up your dreams just to keep the peace one last time.
“Stop blaming me for all your downfalls, when you’re the one who slept with him in the first place!” You don’t see it coming. The backhand you had grown used to smacks across your face, causing you to fall back and slide to the floor. The taste of metal fills your mouth as you bring your hand to cradle where she just hit. The spot on your lip you had been chewing earlier has split from her ring, blood coating your fingers as you bring them away from your mouth. She eyes her ring, taking it off and pocketing it to clean later.
As your face starts to throb as your jaw wobbles, the woman before you crouches and puts her finger in your face while you cower on the floor. “When you leave, don’t even bother coming back. I mean it. Don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t last a day, because once you exit this house, you are not my daughter anymore.”
You start packing that night. The rooms at the Academy aren’t available until a couple weeks before the school year starts, but you want to be ready when they are.
You go to school the next day, turn in your homework like you always do, and if people ask about your lip, you tell them the same little lie, “I was just playing basketball and it bounced wrong and hit me in the face.” They seem to believe it, even though you don’t have a hoop, or a basketball for that matter.
When you drive home the first thing you notice is all the boxes on the front porch. Your boxes. Scrambling to the front door, you attempt to unlock it with your key, but it doesn’t fit the lock. Your mom’s car sits in the driveway as you knock and knock, eventually pleading with her to let you in. The house remains silent, as if she isn’t in the kitchen nursing a glass of wine.
Realizing there’s nothing you can do, you pack your car with the few possessions you have and start driving. The tears start falling down your face as you look in your rearview mirror and see what little boxes your entire life has been packed into. You find yourself at a local park, one you’ve passed everyday on your way to school. The sun is shining as you pull out your phone and decide to make one last ditch attempt for help. Clicking Bradley’s name, you hold your phone to your ear and beg as it rings that he picks up. Just this once. The robotic voice tells you he’s unable to get to the phone as you hang your head, your split lip pouting until the beep indicates it’s your turn to talk.
“Hey Bradley. I know we haven’t talked in a while”, you sniffle, “but if there’s any chance you’re hearing this, please pick up”, you start to sob. “I really need to talk to you… I don’t know who else to- to call. Just please, please call me back.” You manage in between your cries. “I miss you, and I hope you’re ok.” You click the button to end it before you ramble on too much. Staring back up to the park, you watch the families playing with their kids. A mom chasing her daughter as she hides behind the slide, a dad throwing a baseball with his son. If someone were to look on they’d probably find it creepy, but you don’t care. You stay until it gets dark, and even after you end up staying your first night of many in your car.
Present Day
Cyclone’s office is unarguably the largest on base. The fact that he has his own waiting room and assistant is a testament to that fact. You’re sitting in said waiting room, across from Rooster, who is still sporting a large bruise. It’s starting to turn the slightest shade of green on the outside, but it’s still rather purple.
Your dad- or Captain Mitchell right now, is inside with Cyclone, discussing the potential for you to be punished. At least that’s what you’re assuming since you assaulted an officer. After dinner Saturday, your dad attempted to talk to you but you shut him out and stayed in your room all night. It wasn’t any better yesterday. He gave you your space, but you could hear him pacing downstairs the entire day, just waiting for you to come out. Bob checked in a couple times just to see how you were feeling, but other than that you kept to yourself.
You didn’t leave your room at all, even when your dad eventually came up to bring you food, he left it outside your door. All while letting you know he was going to be on base early tomorrow to talk to Cyclone, allowing you to drive by yourself this morning. You had barely stepped foot on base when you were intersected by Warlock telling you Admiral Simpson wanted to see you in his office. It struck you with panic causing you to start chewing on your lip, and it didn’t bode well that Rooster was also there waiting when you arrived.
Rooster clears his throat and your stern gaze shoots up to him.
“Sorry”, he quickly lets out. Taking a deep breath in, you let your head fall back to the wall and allow the awkward silence to continue. It occurred to you when you sat down how much this felt like being called to the principal’s office. Except in this case, the punishments were far worse than being put in detention.
The door to Cyclone’s office opens and the two of you stand as Maverick walks out. Clearing his throat he greets you, “Lieutenants.”
“Sir”, you let out in unison. He walks past the two of you as Cyclone’s assistant lets you know you can both enter. Straightening your khaki pants, Rooster allows you to walk in first and the two of you stand to attention in front of his desk. He sits in his seat, staring out the window, and turns to look at the two of you fully, doing a slight double take as his gaze washes over Rooster.
“I am going to tell the two of you what I told Captain Mitchell'', he starts, voice as deep and ruling as always, “The U.S. government does not sign my paychecks to be a god damn babysitter. If you cannot get along as a team, then you will not fly as one. I will send one or the other to another squadron faster than you can say ‘Yes Sir’. Am I clear?”
“Yes sir”, the two of you respond.
“Being on this squadron is a privilege, not a right. The two of you are on thin ice. If either of you have a problem, you better let me know now so I can find the next pilot who will gladly fill your spot in a second flat.” His gaze darts between the two of you as your palms grow sweaty. “Understood?”
“Yes sir.” He eyes Rooster’s face once more, and then back to you very briefly.
“Rooster, if there is anything you would like to let me know about I suggest you say it now.” Swallowing, you can see Rooster out of the corner of your eye do the same.
“No, sir. There is not.”
“You won’t mind me asking where you got the shiner from then?” He asks as he eyes you, you’re more thankful than ever your hands are behind your back at the moment.
“Tripped and hit my face on some stairs, sir.” Your breathing slows slightly as Rooster covers for you. It makes you feel the slightest bit guilty for hitting him in the first place.
“Rooster, you are dismissed.” Your heart tightens in your chest as Rooster exits, leaving just you and the fire breathing dragon. He turns his attention to a pile of papers on his desk as he fans them out.
“I have to tell you, I was initially surprised I hadn’t had to call you in here earlier, given your father’s reputation. But, taking another look at your records, I’m surprised you’re in here at all.” You remain still as stone, staring at the wall just above his head. “Top of your class at the Academy, as well as Top Gun, and yet, you’re still in my office.” Raising a brow, he brings his full attention back to you. “Why is that, Lieutenant Mitchell?” You scoff internally at him questioning you instead of Rooster.
“Things got out of hand, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sighing, he stands and faces his window, gazing upon his domain.
“I wasn’t hesitant when Admiral Kazansky suggested you be added to this detachment. Your records speak for themselves. The insistence on having Captain Mitchell in charge however, made me more skeptical. How would that look?” He turns to you once more. “Having a parent and child in the same squadron? Rooster might know your dad, but on paper you have more to gain. And your flying ability doesn’t mean anything when politics are involved. It doesn’t matter what was said.” Setting both hands on his desk, he leans forward, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your facade, “I am going to give you some advice, and it is in your best interest to listen and listen good. What happened last week cannot happen again. Tread lightly, keep your head down, and do what you came here to do. Your job.” Punctuating the last two words with his finger pounding on the desk, he finally takes his seat. “You are dismissed.”
You hold your breath all the way to the hallway. Once out of sight from anyone, you take in a deep breath and let it out through your nose, collecting yourself before making your way to the women’s locker room. You know he’s right. You let yourself get comfortable, and once you get comfortable things start to crumble. It’s like everything you touch gets ruined and breaks right under your fingertips. This was no exception. You had to be better, do better. Emotions are where you lose control, say things you shouldn’t say, and you get justly punished for them.
You are still before the locker room door, taking in a breath before letting yourself in. Halo is lacing up her boots while Phoenix slips her flight suit on when you get to your locker. They both greet you with a small smile as you start to change uniforms.
“How was your meeting with the air boss?” Phoenix asks, already knowing all about it apparently. “Did he totally lay into Rooster?”
“If he laid into him more than you did, I’d be surprised he’s still standing”, Halo comments.
“Wait, what did you say to him?”, you ask Phoenix as she rolls her eyes.
“Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, ‘why are you being such a dicktroll’, and ‘I can’t even look at you right now’”, Halo lists off for her.
“Dicktroll?”, you laugh, “That’s a new one.”
“Yeah well, when I’m mad the words just start coming out of my mouth.”
“He’s still your friend”, you mutter. “And I said some regrettable things, too.”
“Mantis. You’re my friend. I don’t even know if I would call him that after this. And yeah, I know you separately and out of whatever mess you’re in now, but I know when someone is being an asshole. And Rooster was being a major asshole. What you said didn’t warrant what he told everyone” She catches your shoulder as you finish zipping up your flight suit, “I’m gonna have your back no matter what, ok? And I guarantee everyone else in that room will, too.” You turn to Halo as she nods in agreement.
“I appreciate it, truly”, you thank them as you begin to tie up your own boots.
“What did Cyclone say to you, though?” Halo asks.
“Um”, you cough, “Basically I’m just happy to even still be here.”
“What does that mean?” Phoenix asks as her brows furrow.
“Doesn’t matter”, you reply, patting her back as the three of you leave the locker room.
Maverick is already at the front of the room, talking with Hondo as you walk in behind Halo and Phoenix. Bob smiles at the two of them, and you think for a second you see it get slightly wider as he spots you behind them. It almost makes you forget that everyone is trying and failing to hide the fact that they’re thinking about what Rooster said.
That fact alone has you crawling in your skin just a little bit. Bob turns to you as you open your notebook to where you were taking notes on Friday. You try your best to ignore the flits of eyes that turn your way, but you can still feel them on you.
“Hey”, he smiles.
“Hey”, you smile right back.
“How’s your hand feelin?”, he whispers.
“Oh that”, looking down at it, you stretch your fingers out and wiggle them, “Definitely feeling a lot better.” Phoenix turns at your own words, eyes widening as she looks at the discoloration on your knuckles.
“Jesus, what happened?” You’re about to tell her the same lie you told Penny, but before you’re able to open your mouth, Hangman whistles from his seat on the other side of the aisle. Everyone’s eyes follow Rooster as he makes the uncomfortable trek to the back of the room. Phoenix’s eyes quickly move from the bruise on his face back to your hand as you tuck it under your opposite one. A slow smile creeps on her face as she realizes how you stood up for yourself. “Nice shot”, she whispers to you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you whisper back as you pretend to look through your notes.
“Rooster”, Maverick’s voice speaks from the front, “Take a seat up here please”, he asks as he motions to the vacant seat next to you. Your brows furrow as do Rooster’s.
“Mav-”
“Now”, he responds rather sternly. Rooster follows his orders and he sits next to you as you stiffen. The rest of the room is silent as they wait for Mav to start the day.
“It has been brought to my attention that there has been some hostility amongst this team.” If it wasn’t at all obvious he was talking about you and Rooster, the ways his eyes wander to the two of you confirm the fact to everyone. “If you can’t act as a team, it is incredibly hard to fly as a team, and when you don’t fly as a team, people get hurt.” He eyes the room as everyone looks on in anticipation. “That being said, we’re going to start today with a little… exercise.” He says the last word with a hint of a smirk on his face.
“I will ask each of you a question. If you get it wrong you will have to do 10 pushups. If you get it right, however, you can choose anyone in our squad to do those 10 pushups for you.” People start to groan around the room at the prospect of not answering a question correctly.
“Rooster”, your dad starts, “When did the U.S. land on the moon?”
“Um, July 1969”, he responds, no doubt he has the right answer.
“Wrong, the correct answer is July sixteenth, 1969. Drop and give me 10.” Rooster blinks in surprise, but does as he says. Everyone shifts in their seats, realizing how nitpicky he’s being about these answers.
“Phoenix, what year was Top Gun founded?”
“It was 1969, and I believe it was in-”
“Correct”, your dad interrupts her. “Who would you like to give your push ups to?” She smiles slightly and turns to where Rooster has just sat back down after finishing his pushups.
“Rooster”
“You heard her, give me another 10, Rooster.” He does as he’s told, once more dropping to the floor.
“Payback, when was the Declaration of Independence signed?” Payback laughs slightly at the question, before noticing the very serious look on Maverick’s face.
“July 4, 1776, sir.”
“Very good, who gets your pushups?”
“Rooster”, he responds immediately. Payback looks over, sending you a small nod and smile, and you give it right back. Rooster stays down this time, as Hondo, who is all too happy to be doing this, counts his pushups from the back of the room. You watch across the room as everyone’s eyes light up. Maverick continues to go around asking possibly the easiest U.S. History questions, and everytime a member of the squad gets their answer inevitably right, they assign their punishment to Rooster. Your heart warms that every time someone gives their correct answer, they spare you a glance or a nod, subtly acknowledging they’re doing it for you.
Rooster’s starting to sweat and slow down as Maverick finally gets to you. His eyes grow a touch softer as they look at you. He clears his throat, asking his final question, “Mantis, who was the first American woman in space?” A small smile creeps on your face at what seems to everyone else to be a surface-level question.
“Sally Ride”, you answer. The memory of being 8 with dreams of being an astronaut fill your head. One summer at the Bradshaw’s, a documentary about Sally Ride was airing on t.v. and thinking it would be good for you to see a female role model, Carole left it on for you to watch. Turns out, you got a little too obsessed, to the point Carole hand-made a NASA jumpsuit for you to wear on Halloween months later. Bradley even helped you memorize the planets in the solar system that summer, telling you that’s the first thing you needed to know if you were going to be an astronaut. He was 14 at the time, and could have been doing a number of other things than hanging out with an eight year old, but he stayed with you the entire summer. It was one where your dad was deployed the last month, but he stuck by to make sure you never got lonely. You still knew the planet song he made up to help you memorize them like the back of your hand.
“Who gets your pushups?”, he asks, even as a formality now. As you stare at Rooster, who is behind on his last two sets, you’re reminded of that 14-year-old, who stayed with you when you were alone, and taught you how to go after what you wanted. The memory causes a lapse in your anger, and just this once you decide to go easy on him.
“Can I give them to you, sir?” His eyes go a bit wide as he blinks away his surprise. “You are technically a part of this team, are you not?”
“I guess, yeah- I am. Alright Hondo”, he says as he situates himself on the ground, “Count me out.”
Rooster and Maverick finish their pushups almost simultaneously, which leaves the rest of the time in the classroom to go over more flight maneuvers for the following week.
Bob saves you a seat at lunch like he’s been doing it forever, and you are more than happy to sit next to him.
“Do you realize that yesterday was the first day in like 3 weeks we haven’t seen each other in person?” You ask, taking a chip off of his plate.
“Wow”, he remarks, watching you so casually sharing each other's food. “I mean I did notice… It was awfully quiet at my house.” He gives you a small smile as you lightly shove his shoulder.
“Shut up.”
“What were you doing yesterday?”
“Quite literally nothing”, you reply, taking in a deep breath. Bob continues eating as you mull over your next words. “Rooster was at dinner on Saturday.”
“Are you serious?” He asks, almost choking on a chip.
“Yeah”, you nod, “He told me he was sorry, again.”
“How did that go?”, he treads lightly. You sigh, glancing across the mess-hall to see Rooster eating at a table by himself. For once he’s the one who looks lonely, and you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. But then again, he did this to himself.
“I don’t know, I think he was angry at me for the wrong reasons, which made him feel worse about what he said.”
“He should feel bad about it. It doesn’t matter if they were the wrong reasons, he shouldn’t have said it at all.”, Bob mutters, causing you to look back at him. He blinks a couple times under your gaze as you don’t look away. “What?”
“Thanks for having my back”
“Of course, I’ll always have your back”, his smile gets a little more full, a little more crooked the longer you two look at each other. And you can feel the same happening to your own smile before you look over Bob’s shoulder to see Phoenix heading your way. Dropping her lunch bag on the table has you scooting the slightest bit away from Bob, just to create a little more distance between the two of you.
“Soo”, she draws out, “I know it’s been a wild few days, but are you two still coming to my house this weekend?” Shit, you forgot all about the party she invited you to. “I’m officially uninviting Rooster if that sways you in anyway.” Chuckling slightly, you look over her shoulder and watch Rooster as he picks at his own food.
“It’s fine, Phoenix. Like Mav said, if we can’t work as a team it’s hard to fly as one.” You decide.
“This is a party, Mantis. One in which I would not like to invite losers and assholes into my home, and he fits into both of those categories.”
“So does Hangman”, you reply as she rolls her eyes. “He did apologize to me, and I believe him.”
“Did you forgive him, though?”, Bob chimes in.
“That’s beside the point. Whatever is going on with me and Rooster doesn’t involve the rest of you, and I never should have brought it into work.” Phoenix looks on in contemplation as Bob gives you an earnest look in understanding. “Plus, we have direct orders to be on our best behavior.”
“I’ll think about it”, she trails off. There’s a lull in the conversation as you continue to eat until Phoenix turns to Bob. “Rachel’s friend Emily is gonna be there, too.” You stop eating, trying to glance at Bob’s reaction through the corner of your eye.
“Phoenix-”, he groans, “I’ve already told you I don’t want to be set up on any dates.”
“And why not?”, she probes. “I just wanna see you happy, you’re like my little brother now.”
“I just…”, his eyes move quickly from Phoenix to glance at you once before she moves on.
“It’s not even a date”, she reasons, “Just come to the party and meet her. That’s all I’m asking.” The conversation ends with that as you ponder Phoenix’s words. You don’t view Bob as a brother at all, but you want to see him happy. You’re happy whenever you’re with him, and you hope he’s happy, too. But you know it’s not sufficient. Bob deserves love, something you can’t give him, and something you don’t even know he wants from you. Even if it was a possibility.
The next day, your father takes a strange but familiar route to get the team back in its groove. He lets you know that day before you leave to meet at the Hard Deck instead of on base, and an immediate buzz fills the air. Everyone already knows what’s going down.
“Your dad’s not one for talking is he?” Fanboy asks as you trudge your way through the sand.
“No, no he is not”, you respond while placing your sunglasses over your eyes. Your dad had explicitly stated to you the day before that he got permission this time for an entire beach day. This explanation had come no further than two seconds after you had asked if Cyclone was going to make a surprise appearance this time.
The San Diego sun is as harsh as ever as the sweltering heat threatens to melt the sun screen right off your skin. Following Payback and Fanboy from the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you meet your father and the rest of the squad closer to the water. Everyone else is already shirtless and ready to start, except for Bob of course. Much to your battling emotions of relief and disappointment. You catch his eye, and make your way over to him as he talks to Omaha and Phoenix.
“Are you ready for some team bonding?” Phoenix asks you sarcastically as you roll your eyes.
“So ready. What better way to get over a fight than throwing balls and tackling each other?” You add with a cheery fakeness that has Bob chuckling. Hondo whistles, taking your attention away from the tall WSO as the day commences.
“Alright, listen up!”, your dad starts, “Today’s training is dogfight football. I’m choosing the teams this time.” Rolling your eyes at the notion, you turn to Bob.
“How much you wanna bet he puts me on a team with Rooster and Hangman?”, you whisper through the side of your mouth. Glancing down at you through his tinted prescription lenses, he chuckles slightly.
“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d bet it all on that”, you smile and shake your head, catching sight of Rooster off to the side of everyone. He’s already looking in your direction, causing you to furrow your brows and look back to your dad.
“Starting with team number one, we have Mantis, Rooster, Hangman, Fanboy, Omaha, and Yale.” He announces as you scoff only loud enough for Bob to hear.
The teams move to gather in huddles before the game starts, and as Hangman and Omaha argue over who gets to be the quarterback, you watch as Fanboy and Yale attempt to come up with a solution. You don’t even notice Rooster at first as he stands next to you. He clears his throat, startling you slightly as you look in his direction, then back to the boys fighting.
“I wanted to say thank you for not giving me your push ups yesterday.” You know an olive branch when you see one, having offered him multiple over many years. Still, you don’t look away from the display of toxic masculinity in front of you before answering.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Seriously, I appreciate it.” You don’t respond to him this time, prompting him to fill the silence between the two of you. “Mantis, I really am sorry-”
“What are you doing, Rooster?”, you ask now, turning to face him. He’s taken aback by your abruptness as he stammers for a response.
“I just thought maybe since-”
“Since Cyclone told us to play nice?” You finish for him. “Don’t get it twisted, Rooster. My actions from yesterday are purely so that I can remain on this team. I worked my ass off to get here, and I am not going to let you of all people jeopardize that.” Walking away from him, you tear the football out of Hangman’s hands while he’s distracted. “Do we have a game plan or what?”
Bob is desperately trying to pay attention to Maverick reiterating the rules of dogfight football, but his eyes keep wandering back to you as you stand next to Hangman. You’re wearing a loose tank top and he can see your sports bra through the sides, leaving the tiniest sliver of skin available for his eyes to roam over. You’re trying your best to act interested even though you know this game front and back. He catches your eyes wandering over the squad, and through his sunglasses he sees you widen your eyes in fake agony. He smiles as you continue to roll your eyes, and as he shakes his head in an attempt to hide his laugh, he glances over and finds Rooster staring at him. Squaring his shoulders as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Bob turns his attention back to Mav.
The game gets ready to start, you and Bob being chosen to snap the footballs. “Get ready to go down, Floyd”, you joke as you bend forward, setting the football on the sand. He mirrors your actions, and as he bends forward, he forgets any response he was about to say. From where he’s bent over, he can see right down your tank top and sports bra, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. Swallowing, and looking back to your eyes, you don’t seem to notice his miniscule distraction. He barely even hears the whistle before you’re snapping the ball to Hangman and attempting to block the rest of his team. His hands feel a little more clammy than before the game started.
In order to keep your team happy, the decision is made to keep switching positions. You think it’s a good idea at the time, but as you run slightly backwards in order to try to catch the ball, you don’t even see what you’re hitting until the wind is knocked out of you. In an attempt to catch the ball Omaha’s thrown, your arms are stretched out, but you ultimately end up with your arms full of Bob as the two of you hit the sand hard.
Hondo blows his whistle, signaling everyone to stop as Bob groans from beneath you. The vibration of his chest against yours distracts you from the ache in your temple as you sit up to stare down at his face, eyes squinting in pain.
“Oh my god, are you ok?” You ask, assessing for any injuries.
“I’m fine, are you ok?”, he manages to slip out. His face looks fine, but as you quickly sit off to the side of him to assess the rest of his body, his hand moves to his face. “Oh geez”, he mutters. Glancing back up to his eyes as he sits up, a gush of blood pours out of the hand now clutching his nose. The rest of the team has gathered around you, and a couple people wince through their teeth at the amount of liquid pooling in his hand.
“Oh shit”, you let out without really meaning to. “Does anyone have a towel?” The team scrambles at the urgency in your voice, and without having to say anything else, a towel is plopped into your lap. You immediately move to replace Bob’s hand with the beach towel, holding it right beneath his nostrils which are simultaneously releasing blood.
Mav moves to bend down next to the two of you, “Here, let me see.” You take the towel away just for a second to let your dad inspect Bob’s nose as he looks up. There’s blood dripping over his lips and chin, prompting you to place the towel back.
“Is Penny working tonight?”, you ask, glancing back from the Hard Deck just beyond the sand.
“Yeah she should be in.”
“Good, I’m gonna take Bob up there and try to get this to stop bleeding.”
“Yeah, we should probably call it a day”, Mav replies as he places a hand under Bob’s elbow to help him up.
“No, I’m fine really”, Bob’s muffled and now nasally voice replies. “You guys keep playin’, I’ll go and take care of this.”
“You are not doing that by yourself”, you reply, almost amused at the fact he thinks he can get rid of you that easily. There’s no room for argument in your voice as you throw one of his arms over your shoulder to guide him up the sand to the bar. Phoenix steps in front of you before you leave.
“You got him?” She asks, her features twisted in a grimace as she examines his face.
“I’ve got him”, you reassure her as she watches you pass. Your arm is around his waist while his lies across your shoulders, and you’re trying ridiculously hard to focus on the task at hand instead of his warm body encasing yours. Bob on the other hand wants to tell you he can walk perfectly fine, but he doesn’t want to risk you letting him go. His nose is starting to throb, but all he can feel is your bare shoulders against his skin as your smaller hand grips his waist.
Once arriving at the bar, you walk through the glass door until Penny sees the two of you and rushes over.
“What happened?”, she asks as she watches you help Bob into the air conditioned building.
“There was a small crash”, you explain. “Do you have any towels or ice?” It’s still fairly early in the evening, the sun not setting quite yet, but the first patrons who have sat down in the bar look at the two of you with wide eyes.
“Of course”, she blinks as she moves behind the bar. “There’s a couch in my office, you can take him back there and I’ll get you something else to clean him up with.” You do as she says and open the door to her office, gently letting Bob sit down on the small loveseat, taking the seat next to him. He’s still holding the towel to his nose as he tries to lean back.
“Wait, you’re not supposed to tilt your head back”, you tell him. Gingerly placing your hand on the back of his head, you tilt him so he’s leaning forward slightly. With your other you’re lightly pinching his nose to help stop the bleeding while he holds the towel. Bob can’t help but think how you seem to already know every trick and quirk to stop the bleeding. How you must have had to clean up your own nose bleeds.
Your brows have been in a constant furrow since the collision, and he takes in the way your teeth chew on your lip.
“Hey”, he tries to muffle through the towel. Your gaze shifts from his nose up to his eyes. “I’m ok, really.” You give him a doubtful look as you pinch his nose. Your elbow rests on his shoulder, hand still cradling the back of his head.
“How’s your head?” You ask in earnest.
“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, he responds as soon as you’re done asking. His comment causes you to crack a smile, clearing the furrow out of your brows as you laugh.
“You did not just say that to me”, you laugh. Bob laughs along with you as he tries to breathe through his mouth. Using his shoulder as support, you lean forward and laugh closer to him.
“Ok I’ve got-”, Penny walks in on the two of you, causing her to pause in the doorway, “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah everything’s fine”, you wave off her concern
“Good… I’ve got some wet rags and a bag of ice.”
“Thank you”, you reply, still trying to stifle your laugh with Bob. Confusion is written all over her face as you turn back to her.
“Right, well… I’ll just be at the bar if you need anything else.” Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing, and Bob smiles at the notion. Your eyes meet his again through the same tinted lenses, warping the color of his irises. The dust settles from your laughing fit and it’s just the two of you in Penny’s cramped office, perched on the edge of the ratty old sofa she must have got in a garage sale. You’re still cradling the back of his head as your fingers absentmindedly play with the short hair. He sucks in a breath, stopping your movements.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, that’s not- No I’m fine”, you manage to hear him through the towel. Looking at the bright yellow tropical flowers of the cotton now stained in crimson, you slowly remove your fingers from his nose.
“Does it feel like it’s still bleeding?” Bob attempts to sniff through his nose as he takes the towel away from his face.
“No, I think we’re ok.” You wince at the sight of slightly-dried blood that is now smeared from his nostrils down his chin and neck. It’s soaked into the yellow of his t-shirt, leaving a stain you don’t think he’ll be able to get out easily. “That bad, huh?”
“No, not too bad”, you attempt to lie to him. Obviously not doing that great of a job as he squints his eyes at you. Looking to get away from his playful glare, you eye a box of tissues just behind him. Reaching around him, you grab a few tissues and start to twist them.
“What are you doing?”
“We gotta plug you up.”
“Excuse- plug me up?” He laughs.
“Before we get all the blood off, we just gotta make sure it’s not gonna start bleeding again.” You hand him the first piece of tissue as he delicately places it in one nostril. “Otherwise you’re just gonna have to clean yourself up again.” He glances back up at you, this time with an unreadable gaze. Like he’s trying to study you. “What?”
“Nothing.” You eye him suspiciously as you hand him the other tissue. His eyes move to your fingers stained with his blood, and he looks away again in contemplation as you grab the wet rag.
“Seriously, what is it?” He shrugs.
“Nothing.” Huffing out a breath of frustration, you reach into the pocket of your gym shorts, taking a penny out and placing it in the palm of his hand. He smiles slightly at the notion of you just having this in your pocket, moving the penny to his crimson fingertips. The hint of a smile on his face is quickly replaced with a lopsided frown. “I- I’m sorry you know how to do all of this.” Your shoulders slump as he avoids your gaze. “And I’m sorry you have to do it again.”
“Bob- it’s ok.” You tell him softly, he glances back up, eyebrows twisted.
“It’s not though.. You shouldn’t be an expert at this.” Chewing your lip once more, you stare deeply into his eyes as they gaze back in worry.
“Bobby, I’m ok. I’m ok now and that’s what matters.” Bob is trying his best to believe you, but the image of you crying on the floor of the women’s locker room comes to mind. Then the feeling of your tears soaking his flight suit. You squeeze his hand around the penny once, gaining his attention once more.
“Ok”, he responds just above a whisper. You grant him a small smile in the silence that lingers, reaching back for the wet rag to clean him up with. It’s dried more since you’ve sat down, but you’re still just as gentle with your swipes across his chin. Glancing at his face, you notice there’s a couple specks of blood on the apples of his cheeks, almost underneath his frames.
“May I?” you ask, motioning to his glasses.
“Sure”, he breathes out. Your hands slowly rise and slide the glasses off his face, folding them and placing them gently on the table next to you. The breath is just about knocked out of your lungs as his wide, sky blue eyes blink at you for the first time without a barrier. You’re stuck for a moment in time, just admiring the color and how intently they look at you. You’re broken out of your trance as a drop of water from the rag slides down your hand, dripping on your lap.
Continuing where you left off, you dab at what was previously covered by his glasses, moving down beneath his nose and around his chin and mouth. The rag you were using is now stained a light red and you switch it out with the spare one Penny brought. The bar has gotten a little louder now as the day turns to evening, but it’s still muffled through the door and hallway. It’s quiet enough you can still hear Bob breathing so close to you. Your other hand gently nudges his chin upward so as to gain access to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Once you’ve ensured his neck is clean, you look back on his face, hoping to get the spots you missed.
“You can look down now”, you whisper. You don’t know why you started talking so quietly, maybe to preserve a moment of silence you don’t get to enjoy so much, but as he looks back at you, you understand it’s just to preserve Bob. If you don’t disrupt the bubble you’ve put yourself in, it won’t burst. And you can stay in this moment with him for as long as you decide to. He doesn’t tell you he can clean himself up, even though both of you are thinking it. And you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. Right now it’s just the two of you, in this stolen moment in time where nothing else exists beyond the four walls of the dingy office.
Your hand moves instinctively to cradle his jaw, just to get a better hold on him while you wipe around his lips. With the rag wrapped around your finger, you swipe underneath the plush of his bottom lip, then over the top. Your eyes move slightly up, to check for any more blood, but catch sight of the tissues sticking out of his nose. It catches Bob off guard as you start to chuckle.
“What?” He asks this time. You lean back slightly, both hands now in your lap, to get a full view of his face and start to laugh a little harder. “What is it?” He presses, starting to laugh as well.
“You look absolutely ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who said I had to ‘plug myself up’”, he mocks, not meaning to laugh at the end of his sentence.
���At least it’s not a tampon up your nose”, you mutter. His brows raise at your comment.
“A what?”, he stammers.
“Would you believe me if I told you that Bradley’s mom shoved a tampon up his nose to get it to stop bleeding?” He chuckles in surprise, but also at the thought of a now adult Bradley with a tampon dangling out of his nose. “That was actually the first time I saw a bloody nose, I thought he was dying”, you smile at the memory.
“What happened?”, Bob asks. Setting the now bloodied rag next to the old one, you grab the bag of ice.
“Back in his old neighborhood he had some really annoying neighbor kids. Brad took me to the park, and these three eleven year olds would not let me swing on the damn swings. Then they started saying some really mean things, and that’s when Bradley stepped in. He told them to apologize to me and share the swings and they refused. He-”, laughing at the image you continue, “he shoved one of them off the swings, picked me up, and started to help me swing.” Shaking your head at the memory, you reach up and gently rest the ice pack against Bob’s nose as he watches your face the entire time.
“Not five minutes later, all three kids are back, this time with their older brother. Keep in mind, Bradley was only twelve, and their brother was just about to start high school and absolutely huge. Brad tried to calmly explain what happened, but before he could get a word in, this guy decks him. I ran to the house to grab Carole, screaming that this kid was going to kill him. We raced back to the park, and once this guy saw a raging Carole Bradshaw running full speed towards him he sprinted the other way”, you smile.
“Bradley’s nose was bleeding and I just started bawling, thinking that this is it. He’s dying.” Bob laughs with you as you readjust the ice on his face. “We walked him back to the house, and the first thing she did was shove a tampon up his nose, while explaining to me that he was going to be fine.” Your laughing subsides as well as your own smile as you reminisce.
“Carole Bradshaw sounds like a woman that should not be messed with.” Bob comments, bringing your gaze back upon him.
“Yeah”, you sigh. “She was a fierce protector. They both were.” Bob’s hand searches for your own, squeezing softly.
“Mantis-”, whatever Bob is about to say is cut short as someone clears their throat from the door. The two of you look up to find Rooster, only this time Bob’s hand doesn’t stray from your own. It holds your fingers more firmly at the sight of him.
“Sorry”, Rooster interrupts. “Mav wanted me to check in, see how Bob’s doing.” He glances between your connected hands, then back at where you’re icing his nose. You clear your own throat this time as your hand retreats from its place in Bob’s.
“Yeah, he’s good. Blood’s stopped.”
“That’s good”, Rooster offers, trying to and failing to make this small interaction less awkward.
“Was that all?”
“Actually, um, Mav wanted to talk to you. Privately.” He adds on after glancing back at Bob.
“Fine. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He taps on the door before leaving the two of you alone again. You turn back to Bob, not looking him in the eyes as you place the ice pack in his hand.
“I guess duty calls.” You start to gather up the rags, but before you’re able to stand, Bob’s large fingers caress the back of your wrist to get your attention. He’s very mindful to not grab a hold of your arm as the hairs on the back of his hand tickle you.
“Hey, thank you.”
“You’re welcome”, you manage to breathe out. “I’m sorry I ran into you.”
“I’m not.”
After running to the bathroom to wash your hands off, there is still a wide smile on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You check for any more blood, but decide it’s all gone as you attempt to squash your smile. The rest of the squad is sitting in the bar, each of them with more clothing on then they had earlier. Your eyes roam the room for your father, but come up empty. Rooster is standing on the back deck outside, and you begrudgingly walk towards him. The door swings open and shut, muffling the noise from within.
“Where’s Mav?”, you ask, getting straight to the point. Rooster looks over his shoulder at you, setting his drink on a nearby table.
“He took Penny for a bike ride.”
“I thought you said he wanted to talk to me”, you ask, placing your hands on your hips.
“About that”, he scratches the back of his neck, “I meant to say that I needed to talk to you.” Rolling your eyes and giving him a scoff, you turn around, hand stretched toward the doorknob. “Mantis- please. Just give me five minutes.” And for some inexplicable reason. You don’t reach any further. You turn around, fold your arms, and give him the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief as you walk closer to the edge of the deck and watch the golden sunset.
“I want you to know that I’m apologizing because I really am sorry. It’s not just to keep the peace for Cyclone. I failed you.. And I failed my mom.” You turn towards him, and just for a second you don’t see the stone cold eyes that were set upon you just days ago, you see the sandy hair and soft hazel eyes of a brother who would do anything for you.
“It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” He reiterates. Absent-mindedly you start chewing on your lip, and avoiding his eyesight. A part of you wants so deeply to forgive him and go back to how it used to be, but the other part is still hurt by what he did.
“Which is why I need you to listen to me. You can’t go down the path you’re already falling towards.” Your head slowly looks up as confusion clouds your features.
“What does that mean?”
“I know Cyclone chewed you out more after I left. We’re both on pretty thin ice here, and you worked so hard to get to where you are. I don’t want to see you throw it all away for someone else.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Your heart rate is steadily climbing, wondering if Rooster is about to go where you think he’s going to.
“I’ve noticed things. I’ve told you to be careful before, and now more than ever I wish you would please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Swallowing, you turn back toward the coastline so he can’t read into what you’re trying to conceal in your face. “I see the way you look at him. The same way you’ve looked at boys you’ve had crushes on since you were little.”
“I am not some little girl, Rooster.” You seethe toward him, your face flushed in anger, embarrassment even at his accusations. “I grew up a long time ago, so whatever version you still have of me in your head, get rid of her. Cause she doesn’t exist anymore.” Shaking your head, you stalk toward the back door, catching a glimpse of Bob with his sunglasses on once again, the tissues since discarded, playing a game of pool with Phoenix and Fanboy. “And I don’t have a crush on him. Bob and I are just friends.”
“I never said his name.” Your blood runs cold at his words. You don’t dare turn back and give him the satisfaction of being right. “So you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but I already know the truth. All I’m trying to say is be careful, and remember why you’re here.”
You let Rooster’s words wash over you as you reach for the doorknob and let yourself back inside. How stupid could you be? Sure, you’ve perhaps come to terms that you maybe have more than friendship feelings for Bob, but you were never going to act on them. But now apparently Rooster can still see right through you. The mix of his and Cyclone’s warnings run through your mind as you get closer to the pool table and stand next to Phoenix.
You can tell she’s already a couple drinks in as her volume is a little louder than normal.
“Tell him, Mantis!”
“Tell him what?” She motions over to Bob as he watches Fanboy take his shot, shaking his head at her while he does so.
“Tell him to go on a date with Rachel’s hot friend!” Your eyes catch Bob smiling and shaking his head at her antics, obviously more amused with her drunken state than her words. His crooked smile makes you want to wrap him up in a hug so it never goes away, but you’re reminded of the warnings from Rooster and Cyclone. Repeating over and over in your head the longer you look at him.
“You should”, you tell him, as much as it pains you to say. He glances up at you, smile falling as his brows furrow the slightest bit. “Give her a chance at least.”
“Oh, ya think?” He asks, the slightest tone of disappointment in his voice.
“Yeah. It can’t hurt, can it?” And even though it is tearing you apart to say it, you do it anyway.
“I guess not.” You give him a slight smile, although it turns into more of a grimace the longer you hold it. He does the same to you, turning back to stare at the pool table with a hardened gaze, eyes not actually following where Fanboy’s ball runs to. Phoenix cheers out in glee at Bob’s acceptance, and you slip out the front door, saying your quick goodbyes. You pass Rooster at the bar, not giving him a second look as you make it to your car. Your heart aches at the thought of telling Bob to find happiness somewhere else, knowing damn well if the circumstances were different you would be first in line to offer it. Your brain reminds you however, you're making the right decision. It's the only decision. Right?
Taglist:
@lemmons1998
@itsmytimetoodream
@theamuz
@harrysgothicbitch
@mygyn
@luckyladycreator2
@marve2014
@wretchedmo
#top gun maverick#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#mavdad#robert bob floyd x female reader#top gun fandom#top gun fanfiction#why me?
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God this took me so long. I should get a government issued professional procrastinator badge because yes this IS the second last day of the extended DTIYS. Here we are!
This is @morrogatari 's Pre-eminent design from his ninjago fanfic, for their 200 DTIYS!! She's so cool actually so so emo and cool.
Alt versions and other notes vv
Ibis paint tells me this took 14 hours but I know for a FACT that atleast two of those were just spent staring at it.
I'm so sorry she only had like five grey hairs. I swear I was trying so hard but it took twenty seconds for each line to load and it kept crashing :'( I'd add more if it'd let me.
Anyways!! Your drawing was awesome alo, sorry for cutting it so close and hope you like the entry! :]
#ninjago#lego ninjago#my art#digital art#dtiys entry#preeminent#the preeminent#ninjago s5#ninjago fanart#alo200dtiys#twitter bats wood#twwtbsatwod#i can remember the title off by heart. hold your applause please please
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kyle broflovski & jealousy,
request: bonjour! can u do a jealous Kyle?(ty)
author's note: trying some new w this post; it's a mix of headcanons + a little blurb at the end :D
Out of the main four, I feel like he is the one most likely to get jealous
A lot of his jealousy stems from insecurities; he finds himself pondering over his worth a bit and that translates into envy
He hates how jealous he gets though
He’d trust you with his life; he just doesn’t trust many other guys.
Cartman will purposely flirt with you solely to get under Kyle’s skin, and it works! Everytime.
Kyle tries not to get jealous, knowing he’s only doing exactly what Cartman wants, but he can’t help it.
You’re his! And people shouldn’t think they can just flirt with you!
He’s typically not keen on PDA
But, has no problem wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close if someone is looking for way too long.
If you ask him about it, he won’t try to beat around it too hard. He knows relationships are based on communication, and will confide in you in his feelings.
The best thing you can do is reassure him! He gets in his head sometimes and you just need to bring him back out of it.
Not brushing over his feelings and telling him you haven’t even glanced at any other guys because you have him allows him to get over his jealousy.
Despite getting jealous more frequently, Kyle knows to trust you, and that in most cases you don’t even care for the guy he’s jealous over.
It started with your lab partner, a guy who Kyle could not care to learn the name of. The guy seemed fine at first, based on how you spoke about him, but his existence was slowly weighing Kyle down.
He constantly holds you back from leaving science, a class that Kyle and you didn't share. On most days, you'd meet him outside, walking to your next class together. Your partner's need for help left Kyle waiting in the halls, lingering as you continued to provide aid. (Although, you always perked up once you saw him and left your partner a bit abrupt; that made it worth it.)
He asked for your number and would blow it up when you two were alone. The constant vibrations a reminder of his existence, more salt in the wound. It also seemed the longer you were partners, the more confident he got. Comments that teetered on the line of platonic and romantic, lingering touches that made his face warm with anger.
Kyle despises him, and wants him to know all the resentment he feels. Instead, he bites his tongue, knowing you have to interact with him for your grade.
The feelings can only bubble for so long before Kyle breaks. It's a Friday night, and you're laying together in his bed, above the covers and procrastinating from studying. It takes him a bit to speak, words bubbling up his throat only to die once they reach his tongue. He's able to do it after the third time he thinks of the words he wants to say.
"I don't like your lab partner." He confesses, eyes starring at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling from his childhood.
"Hm. Jeremy? He's okay." You say, turning to lay on your side in order to look at him.
"He's just. Weird. Why does he think he can touch you like that?" He grumble, face red as he admits it, finally, to you.
When you don't reply fast, he wishes he could melt into his mattress. Embarrassment is heavy on his chest, but somewhere he finds the courage to look at you. He watches as your eyebrows furrow, before realization paints itself on your face.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ky. I've said stuff to him, but he doesn't care," You admit, reaching out your hand to grab his, "Plus, he's really bad at science. He doesn't even do anything."
That pulls an amused snort from Kyle, who rubs his thumb over your knuckles.
You smile at the feeling, before admitting to him, "I'd rather have you as my partner."
Kyle grins, only able to think Take that, Jeremy. Fuck you.
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Metamorph
Part II
Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)
Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.
Part I
____________
It seemed no one was surprised with your revered art teacher being moody even on the very first day of the course. Aemond quite literally looked at your small group, winced, sighed, and proceeded with the rules, starting with punctuality and no phones in class. The more he talked, the more you felt like you just signed up to join the army.
While most artists you had known were all chaos personified, Aemond Targaryen turned out to be incredibly collected, meticulous, and obsessively neat. When you had finally entered his little studio - one of many in the building - you saw carefully assembled jars with paint, packs of pencils, canvases, and stacks of paper placed on the tables in such manner as if your teacher was Marie Kondo in the flesh. Moreover, the place was pristinely clean, like in a real estate commercial. Was it because it was your first lesson and he wanted to give you a good impression?
Certainly not. Aemond couldn't care less about anyone's opinion, that much was clear.
He started by giving you a simple composition to see the way each of you worked, and watching him going from a student to student to check on their progress, you froze in your seat. It just struck you Aemond Targaryen was going to see you draw. Which was the whole point, yes, but it scared the hell out of you as you imagined he saw your lack of talent and kicked you out of class immediately. Now, that would be a complete catastrophe, a blow your ego absolutely couldn't take.
When he had finally come up to you, you were shaking lightly in your seat with not a single thing drawn on the paper.
"Procrastinating, are we?" He bent down to look at a completely white sheet and then at you, arching a brow.
You nearly jolted up, gripping the pencil hard so that he wouldn't see your hands trembling from anxiety. You were so scared of him being harsh on you. If one of the very few people you looked up to said you were untalented, how could you live with it?
"I'm sorry, Sir! I'm just afraid I'll build the composition wrong."
What the hell? Sir? Where did it come from? What nonsense were you spouting just now?
But your teacher didn't look even remotely bothered by it or by your white sheet of paper, instead eyeing your hands shaking despite your best efforts to conceal your nervousness. He didn't exactly comfort you or anything, but he put his hand on your shoulder for a split second, squeezed it, and said, "It's fine if you get it wrong. Just draw."
Aemond nodded to you as if confirming his words, and you nodded in return, forcing yourself to take a deep breath once he retreated to the next student. He said it's alright. Mistakes are fine. Surely, you could do it, and he wouldn't berate you for it. You came here to study, and your teacher already knew your weak and strong sides based on the artworks you had submitted. Anyway, you could hardly embarrass yourself more after the "sir" episode, a couple of students giving you a side-eye.
So, you did draw, and it was fine. Not perfect, with many further corrections, but fine. Aemond didn't say anything humiliating about your composition: in fact, despite the poisonous impression he gave you the first time you see him at the gallery, he wasn't tough on anyone in the class.
The next lesson was fine, too. And the one after that. Aemond being a strict teacher was putting it lightly, but he didn't seem to want to bully anyone regardless of his numerous snarky remarks whenever his students made him angry. He didn't get upset at your mistakes, no. You were here to learn, he said when you were holding your breath, anxious to hear his judgment, but your teacher was never too harsh on you. Instead, he commended you on your diligent work. Teaching you to work hard and constantly improve yourselves was one of the main goals of his course, he announced after he kicked out one of the students, a young man named Alfred who didn't seem to be putting enough efforts in his drawings and had too much of a cheerful personality for Aemond to handle.
To be honest, your teacher had still been horrifying the first couple of lessons, and you ended up constantly calling him Sir whenever he spoke to you, despite your embarrassment. Apparently, your weird brain just refused to recognize him as anyone else. Extremely ashamed, you then tried not to make a sound to let your teacher forget about you so you would continue in complete silence. It seemed like it worked because he had never called out your weird wording. Clearly, he didn't enjoy working with people, but he was still putting up with your and everybody else's nonsense for the sake of teaching, which was commendable on its own.
But maybe he also wasn't as bad as he wanted to look. He gave everyone very detailed recommendations on what materials were better to buy and why, explained his own routine and what helped him to concentrate, and even shared some of his personal drawing techniques. Most of the students nearly fainted, you included. The way Aemond used a pencil was enough to drive you to orgasm. God knows what could happen when you'd start painting in color with him breathing down your neck.
Oh, the way he silently moved between the students' seats from one person to the other, staring intently at their canvases like he was reading their crime histories. How he spoke in a clear, firm voice, always sarcastic and alarmingly perceptive but not cruel. When he was taking a brush in his long, slender fingers, you felt the urge to squeak like a schoolgirl secretly watching her crush.
Aemond Targaryen was scary but unbelievably artistic, and you were ready to stay in his class even if he told you the red paint he was using was the blood of his enemies.
Actually, speaking about the mysterious paint, he finally shared some of it with the students by the beginning of the second month, giving you a new task.
"You'll be drawing my figure," he simply stated as ten pairs of hungry eyes stared at him, unblinking. "You are not allowed to change anything in my silhouette except for the color, but you can draw whatever background you deem necessary. Your task is to think of a transformation of a human being and convey your idea mainly with the use of your paint. If I see something stupid like you drawing me with a red heart or red lips, I will kick you out of class."
You stilled on the spot, nervously biting your lips to bits. Drawing Aemond Targaryen. You could stare at him however long you wanted, and it'd be perfectly alright because it's literally the purpose of the lesson.
___________
If you wouldn't be having a heart attack from all the feels, that is.
Part III
Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#ewan nation#hotd#house of the dragon#the house of the dragon#yandere
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Ignoring the fact that ibis had the ai paint feature a couple years before this whole ai fiasco, after seeing your post, I decided to try it out to see if it really held up. I already knew what you said made no sense, as even stuff like ai painting requires heavy human input that isn't just someone typing a prompt in a thing and looking through thousands of images and somehow still calling it 'art'. Really, it's just some weird advanced bucket.
The ibis ai paint... really sucks. I'm pretty sure it hasn't even been touched since it was added. No matter what I did, I got random colours and whatever colours I had put there looked like it were from a filter, not to mention how my lineart bled everywhere like it was blurred out.
Ibis isn't problematic for adding that feature as not only was it added ages ago, but it was also just a gimmick only added because a few more popular paid programs added them, like Clip Studio Paint. I highly doubt even the company took it seriously considering how poorly built it is. This is actually the one time I'm glad some feature in an app sucks so much.
Another reason why ibis isn't problematic by the mere feature alone is that, when you look at the artists making content during the time of that update, it was received with humour. It was something fun to try, but ultimately dismissed for actual artwork, as nobody would use it to fully paint their works. Nowadays we see something slapped with the words 'ai' and think that it's instantly bad due to the latest issues with it and big corperations/ certain production companies but it isn't. It's just a lot of people abusing what was previously some fun gimmick, which it can still be, and for certain apps, still is. Nobody throws pitchforks at character ai, after all.
You can tell just by the size of this that I'm procrastinating on something. Ima go and let this rot away in your askbox now lol
You really thought this would fade away in my ask box, mwahahaha /j
I wanna start off by saying thank you for holding me accountable, I will admit that I got buzzworded pretty hard in this situation lmao
This information came as a surprise to me-- I was seeing posts pop up within the past week complaining about the ai feature on ibis, so I assumed it was recent. As it turns out, after reading your ask, I discovered that I got a few wires crossed! Because yes, the auto paint feature I referred to in my post has been around for years now, and was never taken seriously anyways
So that was my bad (and yea ur right it's completely unusable, lmao)
But as it turns out, the feature that people have been complaining about DID come out recently. It was called the AI Example feature, I think the idea was that you make a simple drawing and the AI adds 99% of the detail and color, which I've seen a bunch of other programs do.
...and then it was immediately removed due to some pretty major backlash, which, duh
^ This is the only evidence I can find of the 11.2.0 update that included the AI feature on the actual site; their update history stops at 11.1.0. But there's also the news page about the removal of the update, so it's not like they're trying to pretend it never happened.
So tl;dr, I jumped on the hate train a little too quickly and never did enough research to figure out what the actual update was, and that it's been removed by now anyway (which I couldn't have known until today, ofc, but i did kinda post that thing about ibis today so it's still a pretty major oopsie)
I think I can say with confidence now that I agree, ibis paint isn't problematic to use-- they made a mistake with this update, but they actually listened to their users and removed it LITERALLY the next day. So, thanks for letting me know! I'll also edit my last post to prevent any misinformation, just in case people make the same mistake I did :]
#its a big relief that i dont have to learn how to use an entirely new art program anyway#so this ask came as a pleasant surprise#asks open#ibispaintx#now i just gotta hope i didnt get anything else wrong about the update
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Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !
I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons
Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts
THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.
John Marston - Civil Engineering
Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.
Javier Escuella - Music Theory
PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.
Charles Smith - Anthropology
It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.
Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies
LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.
Sean Macguire - Business Administration
He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.
Lenny Summers - Literature Major
Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.
Bill Williamson - Army
Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.
Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major
Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."
Pearson - Culinary Degree
Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.
Abigail Roberts - Education Major
I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.
Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences
Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.
Karen Jones - Biological Sciences
PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.
Tilly Jackson - Physics Major
SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.
Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major
ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.
Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology
Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.
Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor
This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.
Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor
THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).
Leopold Strauss - Business Professor
YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.
Orville Swanson - Theology Professor
Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.
Uncle - Biology Professor
How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.
Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother
She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.
#red dead redemption 2#red dead fandom#red dead redemption community#van der linde gang college au#van der linge gang#red dead redemption au#red dead redemption 2 college au#red desd redemption college au#arthur morgan#John marston#Dutch van der linde#Charles Smith#javier escuella#sean macguire#lenny summers#bill williamson#micah bell#Pearson#abigail roberts#sadie adler#karen jones#tilly jackson#mary beth gaskill#hosea matthews#molly o'shea
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[a summernight's warmth]
pairing — shinichiro sano × reader
desc — just shin being a hopeless romantic (written from his pov)
ari's note — a blurb from a series i'm procrastinating working on! (live love laugh grammatical errors)
Her hands are definitely something compared to mine; hers are smaller, softer, also squish-able. Here, right now, our fingers are raked to each other (ah, the warmth). She is pulling me through the crowd — posture firm, steps quickened. “Shin! Make a good use of your long legs please,” she pleads as some ‘Sorry!’-s slipped as her head moves left and right, bowing down when she crashed onto people.
“At least my long, slow legs don’t make me stumble onto strangers,” I reply, unbothered hand reaching my lips, enclosing my giggles.
For a jiffy, she glances at me with pouty lips. “Then you owe me triple of takoyaki if we didn’t get it tonight!”
“My pleasure.”
“Watch who are you dealing with, Sano.”
“I know.”
She tugs my hands harshly and pulling hard, almost making me fell to my knees as my body slumps downwards.
We’ve been holding hands since I dropped her off my CB-250T. Twisting my wrist to take a look at my watch, only 4 minutes passed? The takoyaki stall is stood at the dead end of the festival, I think this will last for the next 3 minutes. 3 minutes.
I don’t mind how long this circumstance will last for as long warmth enveloped my hands and creeping up my neck, cheeks red. It is cold and we are wearing plain t-shirt and jeans like it’s summer.
“We are almost there!” her voice jumps with perkiness.
Our strides hastily pound the ground and I can feel she tightens her hold, closing the loosen gap between our palms (so soft, so warm). Tender touches feathering in-between her fixed pulls.
What if I let go of her grasp and run my slender fingers over hers then concealed mine around hers instead? Would she feel buzzes jolted and warmth seeping through her body? Or perhaps she will squeal, “Your hand is cold, Shin.”
Ocean of strangers, floating bubbles of light, crashing waves of noise -- and a girl at the centre. She spins as a delicate smile pulled from her lips with shuttered eyes. She lifts her lids and now is holding both my hands. Lips bloom huge (are you laughing?), eyes blown wide (what excites you this much?)
Inhale, close my eyes, exhale, and open.
The surrounding melts into mush-mash of a painting, blur yet motionless and the ones that stay alive is us. I can’t hear anything besides ringing but I swear I hear her laughs, loud and childish. Do I lull myself to sleep to her voice that now I’m fancying it?
Exhale, inhale. Close my eyes and exhale. Opening my eyes and everything drifts back to reality.
“Can we get two? One octopus and… ah yes! One octopus and one prawn, please. Right, Shin?”
“Haha, sure. I’m okay with anything.”
(16 rejected confessions from everyone yet I still can’t bring myself to confess to you.)
likes, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! < 3
© all rights reserved to @blueburntskies and all the works posted belong to this blog. repost and translation on all platforms are prohibited.
#🌣 ari: writes#tokyo revengers x reader#shinichiro sano x reader#shinichiro x reader#shinichiro sano#tokyo revengers
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First off, congratulations on your help with Lackadaisy!✨️✨️✨️
Second, I've been practicing with the Lackadaisy style using nothing but traditional art (paper and colored pencils), and I'm nervous about using digital art for the first time😓
I've been procrastinating with practicing digital art for years, and now I'm ready to get started!✨️✨️✨️
Got any helpful tips or advice for drawing Lackadaisy characters with digital art?🤔
Also, I have ADHD and I'm Autistic so trying new things takes time with me😅
Well the nice thing about ADHD and Autism is when you get into something, you get REALLY into something. So if you are able to build a routine that allows you the freedom to explore the medium you want to jump into, then you'll steamroll ahead. If you're finding it hard to kick off that fixation so you can focus easier, try to pair it up with an existing fixation. Are you into every kind of horse? Okay then, draw an example of every warmblood, coldblood, and hotblood you can think of. Every pony, every donkey, every mule. Find some good photos and go to town. Piggy-backing off my existing fixations is how I can chain together a lot of information that I would otherwise struggle to absorb and recall fully.
As for helpful tips, you're already doing it. I think starting with traditional materials is a good way to build up good art habits without the convenience of infinite colors and the undo button. You'll make quicker decisions and be a little less precious about mistakes. Cuz you have to live with them IRL, so might as well keep going even if the work didn't turn out great. Maybe you'll learn something along the way?
A second tip, more specific to Lackadaisy, is breaking characters down into simpler shapes and seeing if you can build them back up again. Feel free to trace them to turn them into mannequins. Then, knowing the proportions of those mannequins, can you draw them doing other things?
And research. Tracy deep-dives into historical stuff like clothing, hairdos, jobs, jewelry, etc. If you immerse yourself in something you find interesting, you'll see it cropping up in your work occasionally. Look into art deco and art nouveau, two schools of design thought that have a thread running between them that goes solidly through the 1920s. Consider how that design philosophy might get integrated into clothing or furniture.
Other than that, digital specific? There's isn't much, just have fun with what program feels good to use. Don't go too nuts on color (you have a million colors, but a million colors does not a good painting make) and make sure the ergonomics of your digital art situation doesn't hurt you longterm. Take breaks for your hands and stretch. It's more strenuous than traditional. Maybe it's the lack of physical feedback or the way we tend to curl around our devices. Not sure, but I find it more draining than trad work.
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the lovely @kirnet tagged me to curse you all with wips so enjoy >:3
if anyone fancy sharing some goods in the oven pls do!!
Not many of my wips are decent/have hope to be finished so this was hard as hell. They're all self-indulgent so idk if it's interesting, but i tried to pick different stages/process.
portrait of the wizard man himself (i lost count of how many times i've started this shit and i may do it again). Painting this man is infuriating and i don't do him justice.
my fable girl Alice bc i got into fable 3 (thanks hnnny and xeph luv u <3). I'm procrastinating bc of the hair and clothes, i'm a Coward.
kotor cowboy au starring Alek, Phebe and Revan. I still need to do the color etc, but the process is actually Fun!
my most recent (and terribly messy) wip is a knight revalek au just bc i really wanted to paint them and quench my thirst to play ck3. I kept giggling like a fool during the sketch, i'm very excited hshsh
#look at me being vulnerable wow#i complain a lot but really i love creating stuff so much#all these pieces have brought so much joy and taught me a lot too#as i'm writing this i got another idea for a kotor au thingy and my hubris will be my downfall#anyways enjoy folks#my art
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I haven't been here long and I know, like, no one, and I feel totally stupid sitting here in tears writing a dumb emotional post where I am probably going to overshare and sound like an idiot I guess the positive thing is that no one is likely to read it, I have never been much of an engaging writer.
So in my last post I was getting frustrated at myself for procrastinating. I should have just kept that up, but I didn't. I was so proud of myself. Friday night and all day Saturday I forced myself to sit in front of my computer and set up my Etsy store. I even made a banner so it looked pretty. I listed a few things for sale and it took forever, and I was exhausted from forcing myself to focus on something that I really don't enjoy for so long but I did it, and I was so happy that I finally took the step because I'd been putting it off for such a long time. And literally the next day they permanently suspended my account and told me that they would not be giving me an explanation why. Like WTF. I put SO much work into this. I feel like I don't even know. I feel numb.
I used to be a nurse, years ago. I used to live on the other side of the country. Then I met this guy and it's a long story but the end result is that I now live in a different state where I barely know anyone. I'm not with him anymore, thank fuck, but I have severe C-PTSD, s does my youngest kid. I can't work anymore because because my child was always a lot health wise but with C-PTSD on top of everything else they have, they need me around. They rarely go to school because of anxiety. Then they do, I wait in the office because I know they'll only be there an hour or so and I have to drive them home again. Anyway, trying not to overshare. Basically, can't work outside the house.
So this Pop Figure thing. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. It's just, I had fun doing it. I thought I wasn't that bad at it. I bought a bunch of old broken ones to practice on. I experimented with different kinds of paints and primers and top coats and clays etc. to figure out what looks best. Then I started making them properly. I still feel like maybe I'm crap at it but I have looked at what people are selling on Etsy and mine are just as good, if not better as the custom Pop figures other people sell on there.
It's just hard. I have two disabled kids. I can't work. Their father doesn't give a shit. I'm not trying to be all woe is me but after I pay the rent and bills and food there is nothing left I just wanted to do this so there was a bit extra so everything isn't always so fucking scary and stressful. Fuck.
I read their fucking policies. I didn't do anything that violates anything.
I hate being such a whiny fucking cry baby but I was was so excited about this. Now it just seems like the last six months of planning and practice has been a gigantic waste of time and money that I couldn't afford.
This is the Aziraphale & Snake Crowley I was working on. I was happy with how they were going. They're almost finished. I just have to wait for the epoxy to dry, paint it, and reassemble them but now I don't even want to look at them 😞
I really don't know what I'm going do.
#custom funko pop#funko pop#good omens fanart#good omens#aziraphale#snek crowley#crowley#etsy#fuckyouetsy#sorryIhatebeingawhinycow
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Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 4 (JJK, KNJ)
Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon
Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, drinking, implied sexual content
Word Count: 5.6k
Summary: Unfortunately, you have developed a massive crush on your new boss. Even more unfortunately, your equally attractive coworker is also harboring massive crush on your boss. AKA Jungkook and reader both pine for big, sexy brain Namjoon.
A/N: Hello my lovelies! This fic is going to be a little longer than I expected! There's going to be at least three more chapters, and possibly more with the way things are going. Chapter 5 may be a little late next week because a friend is coming to visit, but I'm going to try to have it finished and ready to go before she arrives. Will Essie beat her procrastinator habits? Tune in next week to find out. Okay I hope you enjoy reading! I'd love to hear from you! Bye!
mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6
The sun wakes you, bright and intense through the windows.
“Mhhnnn.”
The heat is heavy and clinging, like when you leave your electric blanket on high the entire night. Your mouth feels like cotton. You don’t remember turning on the heater last night before going to sleep.
Last night.
The party.
Dancing.
Jungkook.
You crack open an eye to see a familiar tattooed arm around your waist, but close it quickly because fuck it’s bright. Right. You asked him to stay. Pressure starts building behind your eyes. Maybe those last three glasses of champagne were a mistake.
As far as hangovers go, though, you’ve had worse. At least you don't need to puke. But there’s something off, something missing this morning. The thought chases itself around in your half-asleep state, like a dog chasing its tail.
Eventually, the urge to pee gets you out of bed. Not without effort, you wiggle your way out of Jungkook’s tight embrace and sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
Jungkook grumbles and rolls over, throwing an arm over his face.
“Turn off the sun.”
You suppress a giggle as you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, picking up a discarded robe off the floor to cover yourself on the way.
You take a look at yourself in the mirror as you’re washing your hands. Your face is puffy with sleep and alcohol, but there’s no mascara panda eyes. Apparently, drunk you had the wherewithal to wash her face last night, somewhere between asking Jungkook to stay and falling asleep.
And it hits you, the thing that’s missing. Usually on mornings like this, when you wake up naked next to a person you didn’t plan on sleeping with, you see yourself in the bathroom mirror, makeup smudged under your eyes, regret deep in the pit of your stomach. That regret is nowhere to be found.
All you feel, as you brush your teeth to get rid of the terribly dry feeling in your mouth, is a deep seated satisfaction.
Huh.
Jungkook looks like a painting on the bed when you come out of the bathroom, a slash sunlight across his bare torso. He looks so soft now, sleep-mussed, mouth hanging a little open. You admire the hard planes of his abdomen, swallowing thickly.
As much as you want to snuggle up against him, throw a leg over him and let your hands wander over his body, you keep your distance. You’re not feeling any regret about sleeping with him, but you were both more than a little tipsy when he agreed to stay last night.
The clock on the nightstand says you have an hour before the in-room complimentary breakfast ends. Your stomach rumbles. You perch on the side of the bed and poke him.
“Jungkook.”
He grunts a response.
“I’m gonna order breakfast. You want some?”
You get another grunt in response.
You turn towards the nightstand and call down to the kitchen to order. You get two of everything, and an extra pot of coffee, knowing that however hungry you are, Jungkook will easily eat you under the table.
As you hang up the phone, you feel his chin on your shoulder. He’s properly awake now, sitting up, looking at you with a sleepy smile.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” His gravelly morning voice makes your toes tingle. “How’d you sleep?”
You twist to face him before you answer. His hand comes to play with the tie of your robe.
“Better than I have in a while. You’re like a little space heater.”
His lips quirk up in a lazy smirk. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”
You flush. You hoped you had outgrown that habit. “Did I say something embarrassing?”
“Something about the peaches being nice and firm.”
Your mouth hangs open in mock outrage and you poke him in the chest. “I order you breakfast and this is how you thank me?”
Before you have time to process it, he’s grabbed your wrist and got you on your back, straddling you. He presses a kiss to each temple, then each corner of your lips, and then finally makes his way to your mouth. His lips are soft, gentle, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth.
“Is this better?”
You nod and he trails kisses down your jaw and neck until he reaches the neck of the robe. He mouths at the uncovered part of your chest, and before he can pull the robe open, you pull his face up to yours for another kiss.
“Breakfast will be here in a few minutes.”
“So we don’t have time to waste,” he says, his eyebrow lifting. “Can I have a little appetizer before then?”
“Oh god, that’s the worst line I’ve ever heard.”
You nod anyway. Consent received, he tugs at the tie of your robe and makes good use of the time before breakfast arrives.
When the knock comes at the door a few minutes later, you wave at Jungkook to get it. Getting up seems insurmountable. Your legs feel like jelly. He jumps up from the bed and wipes his face.
“One sec,” he calls.
He pulls on the robe you were just wearing before accepting the room service trolley. Before he has a chance to reach for the coffee pot, you hold out your hand.
“Wait!”
A surge of energy has you scrambling out of bed to get your phone. You pull the sheets after you, wrapping them around you in a makeshift dress. “Camera eats first.”
Jungkook groans but steps back to let you take your photo. It’s picture perfect, with bacon and eggs worthy of a Studio Ghibli film, fluffy pastries, and artfully arranged fruit. He leans into the end of the video you take, making a silly face.
“Now can I eat?”
You gesture for him to start but he pours you a cup of coffee first, a dash of cream and a spoonful of sugar, just how you like it. A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads over your body, and you tell yourself it’s from the cup of coffee in your hand.
He grunts when he takes his first bite of food, his eyebrows coming together. He looks almost angry.
“This is so good. Damn.”
He takes another bite and pretends to faint. You laugh at his antics, and your hands itch to take a video of him pretending to punch the food because it’s too good. You shake the thought out of your head and reach for a croissant instead.
Soon, your stomach groans, stuffed with one of the best brunches you’ve ever had. Checkout time is just around the corner. Jungkook disappears to his room to shower, and you do the same, washing the night’s sweat and stick off your body under the hot jets.
Doubt creeps in while steam billows around you. Was it a mistake to sleep with Jungkook when you’re both hung up on another guy? You don’t know and you try to dismiss it.
Shower thoughts. Always intrusive, sometimes illuminating, and often annoying.
A knock sounds at your door as you’re pulling your shirt over your head. You open your door to find Jungkook on the other side of it. Somehow, he looks even better just out of the shower than he did the night before. His hair is damp and he’s wearing an oversized green plaid flannel and black joggers. He has his duffel bag with him and a puffer jacket draped over his arm. You let him in and he sits on your bed as you finish getting all packed up.
You feel his eyes on you as you crouch to zip your own duffel bag. An awkward tension hangs in the air. There’s some sort of expectation, on both sides of this. You’ve never navigated this before, sleeping with a coworker.
You straighten and meet his gaze.
“So.”
“So,” you echo. The silence stretches longer than is comfortable.
“Want a ride home?” His lips turn up in a close-lipped smile, uncertain.
You internally sigh in relief. You don’t want to have the conversation now either.
“I’d love a ride.”
He takes your bag as you leave your room. No one has done that for you in recent memory and you don’t know what to do with your hands as you ride down the elevator.
Checkout is a nearly silent process and so is the car ride over to your building. You only break the silence to give quiet directions.
He parks neatly in an open space in front of your building. You look at him in surprise when he cuts the engine. His hands are on the steering wheel, thumbs rubbing up and down the curve of the wheel. You can’t help but remember how those same thumbs felt all over you, pressing indents into your body, holding you down.
He looks straight ahead.
“Everything okay?”
He closes his eyes and his head falls back against the headrest. “Is it stupid to say that I don’t want to go home yet?”
You bite down a little laugh that threatens to escape. Sounds like the prospect of the rest of the weekend alone is just as daunting for him as it is for you.
“Wanna come up and watch a movie?”
He looks at you and lifts an eyebrow. “You’re taking pity on me.
“No, I’m taking advantage of you. There’s—“ you check your watch “— thirty-six hours left of the weekend, and I have zero plans. I’d love company.”
That’s how you and Jungkook end up spending the rest of the weekend together.
You laze on the couch for the rest of Saturday, watching terrible, cheesy Christmas movies and ordering Chinese takeout when you get hungry. The sun has barely set when he shifts closer to you during a particularly badly acted movie, and you cuddle against his shoulder. One thing leads to another, and you’re both half naked as the credits roll.
He ends up staying over, and, well, there’s worse ways to wake up on a Sunday.
You’re both still reluctant to go your separate ways, so after you stop by his place — surprisingly clean and airy for a bachelor pad — you have brunch at your favorite cafe.
You take a walk in the park after brunch, walking off the stupid amount of pancakes you had. Your hand naturally slips into his, and he doesn’t let go.
You talk about anything and everything, how his parents pushed him towards a career in law when what he really wanted to do was pursue art, and that he still paints in his spare time, though he likes working at the firm more than he though he would. You share that your dream has been to practice law ever since you saw Legally Blonde as a kid.
“She’s a feminist icon,” you insist.
He laughs at this, and remarks that you’re still missing the pink suit, blonde hair, and the Chihuahua to complete the look.
You’re still holding hands when your meandering walk leads you to Cat’s Pajamas an hour after sunset. The atmosphere of the bistro feels more intimate during their dinner service, with dim lighting and crooning jazz playing softly over the speaker. The bistro is full of people, but you feel like you’re alone in a little cocoon with Jungkook.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything when you both go to pay, but you don’t miss the expression on his face when he sees Jungkook’s hand on your lower back.
“Here,” he says, giving you and Jungkook each a flyer. “Just in case I don’t see you during the week.”
It’s an invitation to the soft opening of his and Jin’s new restaurant, Tonight.
“Any plans on Saturday?” Jungkook asks you.
You take out your phone to check your calendar. “None so far.”
“Wanna go then?”
Should you? You’re under no illusions that this weekend will lead to anything serious with Jungkook. You’re not in the right space to start a serious relationship, and you don’t think he is either. Extending this little fantasy of a weekend seems like a bad idea.
Your traitor mouth says, “Let’s do it.”
Yoongi watches this exchange with a familiar serious expression. You’ve seen this expression before, this mask covering exasperation when dealing with idiot customers. You’re thankful the low light hides your red face as he confirms a reservation at Tonight for seven pm the following Saturday.
Whatever judgement Yoongi was passing doesn’t stop you from slipping your hand back into Jungkook’s as he walks you to your building. It’s cold, you tell yourself, and his hand is warm.
He walks you up the stoop to your building.
“This was the best weekend. Thank you.” He smiles so earnestly, it makes your heart clench.
“I had a lot of fun. Thank you for… well, the good food and the multiple orgasms.” You laugh as he blushes and looks down. “Hey, this reminds me, we have to report this to HR.”
“Report it?” He looks scared, like so many men have when you’ve brought up defining a relationship. Except you don’t want to define this, not yet.
“Not as an official relationship or anything, just that it happened. You know how people talk. Especially about women. I’d like to have all my ducks in a row. Just in case.”
He nods, looking significantly less like a deer in the headlights. “Coworkers with benefits.”
“Something like that.” You take your phone out and check your calendar again. “Are you free tomorrow at ten?”
He’s checking his phone too. “No, I have a meeting. How about eleven? Gives me an excuse to end the meeting early. This guy tends to go on for hours.”
“Eleven works,” you say, hitting send on a calendar invite. Jungkook’s phone pings with the notification, and yours pings back a second later with his confirmation.
You notice the time on your phone. “It’s getting late.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
With one last squeeze of your hand and a chaste kiss on your cheek, he walks back down to the sidewalk and leans against his car. You wave for him to go first, but he waves you into the building first. You shake your head with a laugh. You know he’s stubborn and he’ll sit outside until you crack first. You turn and wave one last time before going inside.
As your apartment door closes behind you, the emptiness returns. Without Jungkook around, it feels like the walls are closing in around you. The weekend was just a fantasy, making you forget how alone you really are. It’s just you. It always has been.
A lump rises in your throat as you slowly get ready for the week ahead, setting out your clothes for the next day and changing your sheets. The apartment echoes around you as you move. You play some music to try and fill the empty space.
You get ready for bed and you slip into your freshly changed sheets. You almost regret changing them. These ones don’t smell like Jungkook. Before you turn off the lamp on your bedside table, you send a text without thinking too much about it.
You [22:15]: The apartment is too cold without you. I had to pull out the electric blanket.
Your phone lights up with a response a few minutes later.
JK [22:21]: Anytime you need me to keep you warm, call me ;)
There’s a line stretching down the hallway from the HR offices when you arrive at eleven.
You haven’t seen Jungkook yet today. Jimin and Hoseok pulled you into a strategy meeting almost as soon as you stepped off the elevator that morning and you’ve been glued to your desk ever since.
As you wait for Jungkook to arrive, you see Jimin coming out of the HR office with Brian. Nerdy Brian with the bad haircut. Jimin leaves Brian at a hallway junction with a wink and a small smug smile on his face. Brian just looks shell-shocked as Jimin struts away.
Jimin catches your eye and stops to chat.
“Brian?” you ask.
Jimin lowers his voice. He’s a gossip and a flirt, but he’s discreet about it.
“What can I say, he moves his hips well on and off the dance floor.” He finally notices that you’re also standing in line for HR. “Who’d you sleep with? Don’t tell me it was—“
“Sorry I’m late.” Jungkook walks up and stands next to you in line, which has grown by a few people behind you. “Meeting ran long. Guy could just not stop talking.”
Jimin, for once, doesn’t say anything. He just looks back and forth between you and Jungkook, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs. You feel yourself warming at his incredulity.
“What’s up Jimin? Already done your due diligence?” asks Jungkook.
Jimin snaps back into it. “Yep. I will say, I did not see this coming, but good for you guys, I guess. You looked great on the dance floor.” He shakes his head, looking confused and a little impressed. “See you at the meeting later.”
He walks off, and Jungkook just looks at you and shrugs. He takes out his phone to respond to some emails. You do the same, but you don’t actually process anything you’re reading. Maybe this was all a mistake after all.
A few minutes later, Jungkook looks up. “This is taking forever. Want a coffee?”
You’re about to say yes, but one of the HR assistants walks out with an armload of clipboards.
“Hi everyone. Each of you please take one of these and fill out the paperwork. It will save us a lot of time once you’re actually in there. If the paperwork doesn’t apply to you, great, don’t fill it out, just hand it back to us once it’s your turn in the office.” He starts handing out the forms, and mutters under his breath. “Though I doubt any of you are here for anything else. Busiest day of the damn year, every year.”
You take your clipboard and read the form. Consensual Relationship Agreement.
“Where’s the box for coworkers with benefits?” whispers Jungkook.
You elbow him in the ribs and start to fill it out.
The line moves a lot quicker with all the paperwork filled out in advance. The HR manager looks tired and over this workday when you and Jungkook take your turn in her office.
“Okay, so we now have your forms all filled out.” She checks the forms to make sure all the information is complete and filled out correctly then makes a note in the system. She hands you a packet of information from a stack several dozen high on her desk. “Here is a copy of the firm’s relationship policy. Neither of you report to the other, right?”
“Correct,” you say.
“Great.” Her voice is monotone. Likely she’s been repeating herself all morning. She turns back to her computer. “Now, is this a one-time event or a continuing relationship?”
“Um,” you say.
“Continuing,” says Jungkook at the same time.
You open your mouth to say something, but she waves you off. “Spare me the details. I don’t need the angsty drama about defining the relationship. You’re both adults in a consensual something. I just need to document if it’s ongoing. I’m gonna mark it as continuing. Just don’t let it affect your work or your workplace. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you and Jungkook say.
“Great. Next!”
You’re unceremoniously ushered out by the harried HR assistant. The line out the door is longer than when you started. The HR assistant looks like he’s going to cry.
“Coffee?” asks Jungkook. “I didn’t have time this morning and I need the boost.”
While you’re in line for your drinks, he vents about his client talking too much and you ask for advice on a tricky case of yours. You were friendly before, but now conversation flows easier. It’s nice, you think, to have someone at work who gets it. All of it.
As you head back to your department, Namjoon walks by, deep in conversation with a senior attorney. You both freeze.
It’s the first time either of you have seen him since the party and you feel a tug of longing at the pit of your stomach, followed by a serious wave of guilt. You look at Jungkook and see your feelings mirrored in his face.
Neither of you bother with goodbyes as you hurry to your office and close the door behind you. You lean against the door and sink to the floor, burying your head in your knees. What did you expect? Did you really think that a weekend of good sex and good food would make you forget your feelings for Namjoon?
It doesn’t stop you from seeing Jungkook outside of work again. You last all of one day before you’re texting him to come over and spend the night.
He texts you the day after to stay at his.
Then, come Saturday, you find yourself getting dressed with care for dinner at Tonight. They have a dress code, and with Nina’s help, you pick out a little black number with thin straps and a tulle skirt that makes you feel like a cupcake. Nina doesn’t ask about the occasion. She knows you’re not ready to talk about it, and she doesn’t push it.
You leave your hair down and put on a blood-red lipstick. You don’t usually go for bold colors, but you feel the winter weather and the fancy restaurant merit it. Sheer tights and boots round out the look.
You don’t have time to question whether it’s all a bit too much because the doorbell rings just as you finish getting ready. You buzz Jungkook up, gathering your coat and clutch, and retouching your lipstick in the time it takes for him to come up the elevator.
He’s rocking the all-black look again, but a little more formal this time, with a black tie and hair swept up out of his face.
“Damn,” you say at the same time. You both dissolve into giggles.
“You look great,” you say once you’ve recovered.
“So do you.”
He offers you his hand and you take it.
The restaurant is on a covered rooftop overlooking the city. It’s filled with beautiful people, and you’re glad you dressed up. It’s not somewhere you’d ever go on your own, but it feels like a special holiday treat to be here, all dressed up with eye candy on your arm.
You meet Jin at the host stand. He’s greeting everyone personally for the soft opening, wearing a cream turtleneck that accentuates his broad shoulders. He leads you across the restaurant, and you follow, Jungkook’s hand gentle on your waist, guiding you through the maze of tables.
Jin seats you at a table by the window and takes your coats. The view is stunning, all sharp edges and glittering lights. The chill from the window makes you shiver, and Jungkook takes his blazer off and drapes it over your shoulders.
You feel like the lead in a ditzy romcom, getting wined and dined by a beautiful man who only has eyes for you. Each small plate looks like something out of a food magazine. There’s a wine pairing with every plate and by the time the main course comes out, you’re pleasantly buzzed.
Jungkook opted for steak and you went with grilled octopus. You almost moan when you take a bite, the octopus soft and chewy, the flavors melting together in your mouth.
“Damn. This is the best steak I’ve ever had.” Your dining companion looks at the steak like it personally insulted his mother. “You have to try this,” he says, loading up his fork with a perfect bite.
He holds it out to you across the table, fork dripping with mashed potato and bordelaise. You hesitate for half a second before you take the bite, so flustered by the surprisingly intimate gesture that you almost forget to taste the food.
When the taste finally registers, all you can say is, “Wow.”
“Try it with the wine.” He offers you his wine glass and you finally understand why people make a living out of choosing wines to pair with food.
He watches your face the entire time, a soft smile on his face as you experience all the different flavors.
“That’s incredible,” you say. “Try mine next.” You do the same with your dish, putting all the elements into a bite and offering it to him across the table. He leans over and glances up to meet your eyes as his mouth wraps around your fork. Heat flashes through you.
“Don’t look at me like that while we’re eating.”
“Like what?” he says with a smirk. Ass.
“You know like what,” you say. “I want to enjoy this delicious food I’m paying good money for.” You take a big swig of your wine.
“What about after?”
“After?” You look up at him slowly, taking him in inch by inch. “After you can look at me however you want.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, then he bites his lip. You can’t help but grin back. Maybe it’s the scent of him on his blazer enveloping you, or the way the candlelight flickers on his face. Shit. It could even be hormones. Whatever it is, it’s making you feel warm fuzzies towards someone who you’re meant to keep casual with. You decide to enjoy the evening for what it is and examine these feelings when you’re able to process them alone.
Dessert comes encased in a sugar bubble. You pull out your phone to film Jungkook cracking it open to reveal a fluffy chocolate mousse underneath. Just as you’re setting your phone down on the table to dig in, your phone rings. NAMJOON KIM flashes across the screen. Jungkook pauses, his spoon in his mouth, then waves for you to take it.
“Hi, Namjoon.”
A flash of emotion crosses Jungkook’s face, but you don’t have time to analyze it before Namjoon’s saying your name and suddenly you can’t concentrate on anything else but his voice in your ear.
“We have an issue with the Dartagne brief. They need an answer by open of business Monday so they can draw up their strategy before they break for their holiday. I'm drowning in documents. Can you come in tonight?”
“Tonight?” Jimin and Hoseok were helping with the Dartagne brief. You had only heard about it in passing during all-hands meetings.
“I know it’s last minute, but Jimin is out of the country already and Hoseok is out of town for the weekend. I’m going to call Jungkook too. We need all the help we can get.”
Your eyes flick up to meet Jungkook’s gaze. He’s been watching you intently as you’ve been talking. You cover the microphone with one hand and whisper, “He wants us to come in. The Dartagne brief.”
“Now?”
You nod and he nods back. You uncover the microphone and speak. “I’m with Jungkook now. We can be there in a half hour.”
“Oh.” There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line. “See you two soon.”
The phone call ends with little fanfare. Jungkook looks at you with an inscrutable expression.
“Let’s finish dessert,” he says.
But the magical feeling of the evening is over. You’re no longer the lead in a romcom. This is real life now, with real people, flawed and beautiful and complicated. You don’t talk while you eat, both of your minds elsewhere. Even though dessert is as delicious as the rest of the meal, you don’t savor it.
Jin looks surprised when you ask for your coats and the bill.
“Is everything all right?”
“We just have a work emergency. Everything was great. Congrats on the opening.”
“Next time, turn off your phone and stay a while longer,” he jokes. Still, he looks confused at the detached atmosphere between you and Jungkook.
Before you know it, you’re walking into the office. Most of the lights are off, save for a trail of lit hallways that lead you to the conference room.
The door is open and — heaven help you — Namjoon’s wearing glasses. A desk lamp washes over him, making his skin shine golden. Papers are piled high on the table. He’s concentrating, annotating with red pen as he compares two documents. His white, button-down shirt is pushed up to his elbows and a lock of hair hangs over his furrowed brows. Soft acoustic music plays from his computer. You want to capture this moment in video forever.
Jungkook knocks on the doorjamb when Namjoon doesn’t look up from his papers.
Namjoon looks up at you two over the rim of his glasses, taking in your appearance. He sits back in his chair and looks both of you up and down. You feel exposed, regretting the short length of your dress.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt date night,” he says, frowning, voice deep.
You exchange glances with Jungkook. He speaks before you know what to say. “We were just out for dinner at Jin and Yoongi’s new restaurant. They have a dress code.”
Something ugly twists in your gut at his dismissive explanation, but you swallow it down as you nod.
“The food is amazing. You should go when you get the chance.” You clear your throat. “Where do you need us?”
“Right,” says Namjoon, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “They delivered these papers late last night. I’ve been going through them but there’s no way I’m going to get through all of these on my own in time. What we need should be in one of these file boxes.” He gestures to bankers boxes stacked higher than your head and two deep. “Grab a box and start looking. We need to find the original bylaws that govern a board takeover.”
“They’re not labeled,” says Jungkook.
“It’s the shittiest file management system I’ve ever seen,” says Namjoon, clearly tired and frustrated with the situation. “Just pick one and start digging.”
Jungkook removes his blazer, loosens his tie, and rolls his shirtsleeves up. His muscles flex as he takes down two of the top boxes and sets them down on opposite sides of the conference room table.
You excuse yourself to your office to change into the clothes you keep in your office precisely for moments like this. You leave your dress on, but pull a pair of sweats to cover your legs and a cardigan to cover your shoulders. You exchange heels for fuzzy slippers.
The first box is promising. You find something interesting almost as soon as you’ve started looking. A brittle set of papers stapled together, handwritten initials scattered all over.
You bring the folder to Namjoon. “Is this what we’re looking for?”
His fingers brush over yours as you hand him the folder and you suppress a shiver. You’re a professional, in a professional working environment, you remind yourself. You read over his shoulder as he takes a look. You don’t realize how close you’ve brought your face to his until he turns to look at you.
This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, even closer than when you danced together at the holiday party. He has pretty lashes, and his dark brown eyes seem like they go on forever. You’re holding your breath.
“This is part of it, but we still need the official, signed bylaws.” You feel more than hear his voice.
“Right. I’ll keep looking.”
His eyes flick down to your lips then back to your eyes. “That’s a nice lipstick color,” he says before turning back to his papers.
You go back to your seat, feeling a little lightheaded. You take your time marking the file and setting aside for comparison, but you force yourself to snap out of it. You’re a professional. In a professional working environment. You have a job to do.
You don’t notice Jungkook frowning down at his papers.
Time ticks on, and you finish looking through the second box with no luck. You stand with a stretch.
“I’m making coffee.”
The kitchen is dim at night, and you don’t bother turning on the lights. You move on automatic, measuring out the coffee and putting it in a french press before pouring hot water over the grounds. The smell of coffee hits your nose, making you feel more alert. As you’re pulling down three mugs from the cabinet, you feel a presence at your back.
You tun to see Jungkook. “Coffee?”
He doesn’t answer. He just steps into your space. There’s nowhere for you to go. The counter is already pressed against your lower back. You find nothing of his usual humor in his expression. His mouth is set in a straight line and he’s focused on your lips.
He takes your face between his hands, thumbs ghosting over your mouth. Your lips part, and you let out a little exhale. His eyes darken as he leans in to kiss you. It’s slow, and intense, exploring territory he has already claimed as his. You grip the sides of his shirt as his mouth moves against yours.
He pulls back, both of you breathing hard. Your lipstick is smudged all around his lips, and you reach your hand up to wipe it away. He does the same for you, thumbs gentle as they scrub away the last of the color on your lips.
“There,” you say when you’ve rubbed it all away.
He turns to kiss your palm then kisses you again, softer this time, just a lingering press of the lips. Shivers run down your back as he trails kisses up your jaw and to the back of your ear.
“Only wear this color around me,” he breathes against your ear. You stand frozen as he reaches behind you to press the plunger on the french press. He pulls away to start putting together the coffee tray.
“Bring the mugs?” He throws the question over his shoulder, his light tone at odds with his intense expression.
He disappears around the corner. You hang back to catch your breath for a few moments.
If Namjoon notices that you don’t have any more color on your lips when you return to the conference room, he doesn’t mention it.
©sowoozoo-7 2023
Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.
#jungkook x you#namjoon x you#jungkook x reader#namjoon x reader#bts fic#bts smut#junkook fanfic#namjoon fanfic#jeon junkook smut#kim namjoon smut#fic: love lust & litigation
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Types of kisses:
(4) "I don't want you to go" kisses.
Early season 5.
"You sure you don't want to come with?" Kate called out from the bedroom.
Rick sat at his desk staring at the blindingly white blank document on his laptop screen and groaned. He wanted to go with her, but he knew he shouldn't. He'd had been procrastinating lately - too much! And it was well past time for him to knuckle down and get some actual work done.
But it was Sunday morning, Alexis and his Mother were gone for the weekend and Kate... well, she had made herself so comfortable in his home, in his bed, in nothing but his old Def Leppard concert tee - really, who could blame him for not being able to focus?
She walked into the office, still doing up the buttons of her dark, floral blouse.
"Ryan and Espo won't be there so we can even carpool," she joked. She fastened the last of her buttons and looked up to find Castle watching her, pouting. "What?"
"It's like putting a flowery sheet over the Mona Lisa," he complained.
Kate smiled, shook her head. "I don't think it would be very professional of me to show up to a crime scene in my underwear, Castle."
She picked up her father's watch from her small pile of belongings that she kept on the corner shelf, and began to secure it around her wrist. Rick stood, walked around his desk to join her by the bookshelves.
"Admit it," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You hate that you had to put on underwear."
Her jaw dropped slightly as a spark of modesty rushed to her cheeks and painted them a subtle shade of pink, but she recovered quickly. She gently pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and looped her arms around Rick's neck.
"Who said I put them on?" she teased in a low, sultry voice.
Rick practically growled as he surged forward and claimed her mouth in a long, searing kiss.
Her fingers combed through his hair as she matched his enthusiasm, kissed him back; hot and ravenous and - despite the hours they'd already spent indulging their every desire - desperate for more.
"I have to go," she said breathlessly as she reluctantly broke away from Rick's kiss.
Her words did little to deter him, though, and he began pressing feather-light kisses along her jaw.
"Mmhmm," he hummed noncommittally.
She pressed her palm to his cheek, forced him to look at her with the intention of telling him to behave. But when she saw the shameless need in his darkened eyes, she pulled him back to her without a second thought.
Rick smiled as he kissed her and she felt his chuckle reverberate in his throat.
"I'm serious," she said in between kisses.
"Stop kissing me, then," he mumbled against the hard press of her lips.
She moaned her detest of that idea, but did what she knew she should. After one last long, languid stroke of her tongue she pulled away.
She reached for the shelf again, picked up the chain that held her mother's ring. When Rick took it from her hands and moved to stand behind her, she gathered her hair to one side so that he could fasten the chain for her.
"Will you come back when you're done?" he asked quietly, hopefully, as he clasped the two ends of the chain together.
"If you want."
"I want," he confirmed as he leant forward and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck.
"Rick," she warned and his touch faded. She turned to face him. "Go, write," she commanded. "Because when I get back I want your full attention to be on me."
She gave him one last kiss - slow and tender, a promise of what's to come - before gathering the last of her belongings and leaving.
#something a little lighter because I do realise I kinda bombarded you guys with sad stories#i'm so sorry#my drabbles#different types of kisses#kate beckett#caskett#richard castle#kate beckett x richard castle#castle fanfiction
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insomnia — kang minhee
according to kang minhee, you sleep too little.
ever since moving in with your very amazing and insanely tall partner, kang minhee, he always comments on how sleepless you look each day.
while you would agree, with how much work you have to do. yeah, you could stop painting all day but do you really want to? no. even if your up at three in the morning, it doesn't really matter to you.
it matters to minhee though.
minhee doesn't necessarily have to wake up in the morning to go to work, but you know he likes to get a full nights sleep, so seeing him awake at a time that you were awake was odd.
"y/n?"
"yes?"
"insomnia again?" he inquires, he knew you struggled to sleep, you hum as you narrow your eyes, a small groan of frustration escaping your lips as you realized you used the wrong color.
"yep" you whisper, staring at the colors as your eyes go back to the painting again. "i think i may have used the wrong color" you say.
"what are you painting?" minhee asks, gently placing his hands onto your shoulders as he tries to figure out what the painting is supposed to be.
"a garden" you reply. "i mean— i've started it, but i don't know which flowers to paint".
"what about tulips?" he suggests, and you tilt your head to look up at him. "you like those".
"those are kind of hard to paint.."
"you painted a literal cruise once, y/n" he states in a very deadpanned way, you chuckle and shake your head at the words.
"alright then" you sigh, pouting. "now i have to change the canvas".
"why do you..?"
"because i already got halfway through the painting and i prefer yellow colored tulips so now i have to start all over because it has to be perfect—"
"alright y/n" he squeezes your shoulder, and you laugh. you place down the other painted canvas, you'll use it for something later, you picked up a new blank canvas and placed it onto the easel.
"minhee why are you awake?" you ask as you begin to paint what you intended to.
"because you are" he says simply, somehow now having a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. you narrow your eyes at the sight, not even knowing where he'd gotten hot chocolate.
"where'd you get that?" you ask, staring at him for a moment before turning back to your canvas and beginning to paint the surrounding bush. "i want some.." you mutter.
"magic" he says in a tone of excitement, looking like a little kid, or seongmin whenever he gets chocolate. "how do i convince you to go back to sleep?"
"you don't".
"y/n" minhee whines, pouting as if he was a baby and not a 20 year old man who was 6'2. "if you don't get sleep then i'm gonna lose sleep over you losing sleep".
"then stay awake with me" you say, turning to look back at him once again. minhee blinks, like he wants to say no but genuinely can't.
"fine then" he says. "i will, i'll supervise your painting" he places the cup of hot chocolate down and places his hands onto your shoulders once again.
"i appreciate that" you say, minhee simply smiles and nods as he observes you paint.
he'd give a lecture on why sleep is important in the morning—
and maybe you'd actually listen then.
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO COME OUT AWHILE AGO BC I WROTE TO CELEBRATE @juyomiao GAINING 400 FOLLOWERS BUT THEN I PROCRASTINATED AND NOW IT CAME OUT LATE
ANYWAY I NEED TO WRITE MORE CRAVITY STUFF CONGRATULATIONS LI ON 400 FOLLOWERS ILY <333
#kang minhee#cravity#cravity minhee#minhee#gender neutral reader#kpop imagines#cravity imagines#cravity scenarios#cravity drabbles#kang minhee x reader#𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!
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Answering asks #4
I have been... procrastinating over answering asks in my inbox... just a bit 🥺
I'm really grateful for everyone's patience so I'm finally sitting down to answer all the asks I got! Again tysm ;w;
• Finny art request + Timelapse and brief overview of my art process
My deepest apologies anon! Not only did you send this ask back in July, but I additionally promised you a reply back in August- and it's October now! 😭 I am so sorry for my lateness and am so grateful for your patience!
In any case, you asked for a Finny drawing so I offer a Finny drawing! As well as a timelapse of my art process and brief overview of how I do things since you were interested!!!
I wasn't sure what style you wanted me to draw him in (I have so many styles RIP) so I picked the most difficult one I (sometimes) use! Aka my painterly style!
As for how I draw like this uhh, it's a lot of messing around trying to find the right colors basically!
Also focusing on quick brush strokes that communicate the shape of whatever surface I'm rendering!
I also love casting most of the upper part of the face in shadows. Does it make sense? No. Does it look good? Yes!!
As for my lineart, again- rly depends on the style I'm going for- but I tend to use a more sketchy style of lineart these days.
Like a superrr clean sketch. I think it looks nicer with my rendering style, bc the lines have that sketchy rough quality so it's easier to hide the imperfections bc I can hide under the "well it's supposed to look rough duhh" excuse LOL. Work smart not hard! I always say that.
I hope I'm making sense with my rambles. I've never been the best at explaining my art process bc I myself don't rly get what I'm doing usually. It just kinda comes as a reflex almost?? I've been drawing for so long I just kinda go with the flow at this point.
Anyhow hope it was worth the wait XD enjoy your Finny!!!
• Kuroshitsuji Musical idea suggestions
To refresh everyone's memory (bc I'm so late at answering asks), awhile back @shadowalkingschemer asked if I ever planned to make a Kuroshitsuji musical parody type songs/animations like I did for Umineko, to which I said "probs no bc an actual official Kuroshitsuji musical exists, but it sounds like a rly fun idea tho". ANYHOW- this was the followup ask I got from the same person! So let me finally answer!!!
Oki so I looked up this Beethoven's Last Night thing you mentioned and???? OMG??? It goes hard from the first few minutes I listened to. It's a rock opera I assume? And it's such a bop?? And yes this would be perfect for Kuroshitsuji, it matches that classical sophisticated vibe SO WELL with the general edge of the story (bc duh. it's a recreation of Beethoven's compositions but with epic rock music). God this is so good, thank you for the recommendation I will have to listen to the full album soon bc WOW.
• Nice person in my inbox :D
Thank you so much @eynnwwyjth !! That's such a sweet compliment too ;W; to call my art enchanting AAA ty!!! :>
• Animation advice
Thank you for checking out my YouTube @aeowolfestheater !! It's my primary social media, and I'm glad you fell down the rabbit hole of my many many uploads I posted over the years XD
To answer your question, I don't rly have the best personal advice when it comes to starting out as an animator rly! I kinda... fell into it? XD I started animating (well trying to animate in MS Paint), before I even turned 10, so I didn't really have that traditional learning curve? It was mostly a lot of trial and error, trying to figure out what works and what doesn't.
(If anyone wants to see how my old animations looked and how they improved over the years, I posted many "Animation Improvement" type videos that showcase my work over the years, so you get the idea of what I'm talking abt!)
youtube
Best advice I can give to any animator right now is probably the boring advice I personally never took (hence why it took so long for me to get where I am now). Learm the fundementals (the principles of animation, the ins and outs of the animation program you're using, general art skills are also a bonus depending of what you wanna animate). I think it's also important when you are first starting out to focus less on making your animations smooth and clean and more on learning how to capture movement itself (that's the point of animation after all!). Learn how things move depending on material, speed, physics etc. and how to communicate that in animation. I think just observing life helps a lot. References are your friend (video references are probs the best). Ofc clean and smooth animation is great as well, but that comes after you learn the basics I think. Stay on model the best you can while animating any shot (ofc unless you are doing squash and stretch or experimental animation). It makes it look less janky. Uhh I can't think of much else right now (bc again I never rly learned animation the normal way haha), so I will link my two animation tutorials here! They are abt Clip Studio Paint EX though, idk how helpful they are if you don't have that program :'0!
youtube
youtube
• Tumblr mutual reunion!
Omg hi @rissynicole and so sorry for the late reply!! As this post has shown so far I am extremely slow at replying to the asks I recieve in my inbox! Anyhow it is me! Katrinci! I got back on Tumblr in 2022 (has it already been over a year??)! Sadly someone else took my old username (an innactive empty blog too... I'm so mad), so I got a new username heyooo. I hope you've been well!! I'm doing better then I have in gosh, years I feel like XD. Mostly bc I'm finally out of school and finally focusing on stuff I wanna be doing (art career stuff and irl stuff!) But yeah I hope you've been well too!!! Feel free to reply or shoot me another ask if you feel like, I'll do my best to reply on time this time! (I'm so so sorry for being so late!!) Anyhow YIPPIE!
• Where to watch my silly Umineko Musical parody
It's here! I privated it on my main channel bc I thought it was too goofy/self-indulgent even for me (also it wasn't doing well and y'know how YouTube is with channels that underperform T_T), so I moved it to my secondary channel! It has both the song you are referencing and the other song I did! Enjoy :>
youtube
• What Croatian stereotype is Katzone?
Well every region in Croatia has its own stereotype, I'm from Dalmatia, and we are stereotyped as loud. So I def fit that one! And also I fit the "cura iz umjetničke" (girl from art school) stereotype quite well. I went to an art highschool and I'm gay, autistic, slightly mentally ill and look vaguely alt (literally I don't btw, but ppl see a buzzcut and it blows their minds, like "woah that's so alternative and quirky", not knowing I only have a buzzcut so I can't pull my hair smh (trichotillomania, look it up for more info)). Though I don't smoke weed so mby I am a bit subversive and not like other art girls.
• Kat sexuality confirmed??
Oki so what @xxparanoidvampirexx is referencing here is when I posted a poll asking my followers to guess my sexuality.
These were the results!
I have been democratically declared a lesbian by popular vote. This is probably true. Listen I'm like 95% certain I'm a lesbian but you never know. My autism makes it hard for me to figure out any sense of my identity bc I often mirror ppl around me (and most of my friends are lesbians or sapphic women in sapphic relationships), you get me? We can never know. My sexuality is currently a Schrodinger's cat situation I'm afraid.
ANYHOW, to answer LMAO- I mean fair assumption. I do mostly post about women on my blog (Saldy... I got back into Adventure Time recently and my blorbo there... is a *shivers* man. I saw someone on Twitter today as that fictional middle aged men are to lesbians what Taylor Swift is is to gay men. And like. Yeah.)
• Nice person in my inbox #2 + "What's your favorite Ciel outfit?"
First of thank you so much anon for the kind words!!! I'm rly happy to hear my art makes you gayer (the only correct compliment ever). Jokes aside, but fr this is super sweet :'D thank you!!!
To answer your question, I had to go skim through this video by @/nullbutler to refresh my memory on what outfits Ciel wears throughout the anime/manga/official art.
Here's the video if you wanna watch it!
youtube
Anyhow, my personal fave fits of his are extremely basic. While I do love Ouji fashion, I dislike seeing him in most of the oufits Yana puts him in. Like yes they look lovely, slay extremely hard and fit the visual aesthetic of Black Butler perfectly- but every time I see him in these frilly oufits I'm like "this is not reflective of his personality in any way, he would not wear this on his own, it's pure camp". Don't get me wrong- I love camp, and this anime/manga is as camp as you get. So while I love the more campy frilly oufits he wears aesthetically (and those are way prettier), I perfer when he's in stuff like this:
Like yes, these outfits are objectively less interesting and pretty- but I see stuff like this and I'm like yeah that's him. If Sebastian dropped dead and couldn't pick out his clothes anymore, this is what he would wear on his own accord methinks.
• STOP MAKING ME FEEL OLD 😭
Here's my live reaction of reading your ask @porfiriea :
What do you mean?? You were 6?? I doubt you watched my 2014 MS Paint animation era, I assume you found my channel during 2016-2017 at earliest (my Undertale and Yan Sim animation era). I refuse to believe you were born in the 2010s. Nuh-uh. No. Not happening. Fake news.
Jokes aside, but it's always cool to see ppl be like "oh I watched your stuff b4, I didn't know this Tumblr user was you!" It's a strange feeling!! Makes me feel like I did leave a mark on the animation side of YouTube. Feels nice! :'D but also old. And I'm only 20!! How will I feel when I'm 30 or 40?? Will I just turn to dust on the spot??
• Grelle's gender masterpost update
I'm so sorry anon, but I completely lost interest in this topic T_T! Plus even if I ended up making a masterpost, it wouldn't be fully accurate (or at least- I wouldn't be able to verify its authenticity completely), as I don't speak Japanese. So I would have to go off of Google translate and translations by English speaking fans who understand Japanese. And I don't wanna talk too much abt Japanese queer culture either. Even though I did a ton of research, I'm not Japanese and I never went to Japan! So I'd rather not risk spreading any potential misinfo. Sorry to let you down ;;!
• Another YouTube viewer spotted me in the wild!
Omg you spotted me!! In the wild!! That animation was crazyy, bc I made it rly fast and rly didn't expect it to do well. But I remember it did super well during the first day (got 100k views on the first day it was wild), and while I love that old video, I'm like. Rly? That one blew up?? Out of all my other ones?? I mean the idea was creative! But I feel I half assed it a little, I barely animated anything for it outside the headbop tweening and blinking animation XD. Mby I'm being too harsh on 14 year old Kat here. Nahh I'm not, I felt the same when I posted it innitially as well. But hey I still love that vid. Love the style I drew in at the time, I was still using a mouse for everything back then. Love the colors too! Mby I should remake it one of these days. Mby!!!
If anyone wants to watch the animation @gentle-starlight is refering to:
youtube
• Umineko time
@anawkwardlady This is the universal Umineko fandom experience I'm afraid. Being sad over Beato and wishing she was vibing (after you learn abt... the horrors...) XD
• ???
I'm so very concerned and do not know what this means or what this is refering to. I'm afraid O_O @hononyan what does this mean...
• What happened to my old Tumblr blog
It's completely ok to ask anon! In truth, I have this rly bad habit where I delete social media accounts when I'm having a bad mental health moment. It's always an impulsive decision I end up regretting. I deleted my old Tumblr in early 2021 I'm pretty sure, and I'm still so sad about it. I wish I didn't delete it. I had that blog since 2015 and now it's gone like poof. I can't get it back and I'm always emo abt it.
I might make like, an archive or something of my old art one day. I mean I still have most of it saved on my computer, but it would be nice to have all of it in one place publically again (it's always good to have stuff backed up somewhere)! Adding that to my to-do list XD
Oh and the worst part? I can't use my old username on Tumblr (Katrinci). Someone else took it. A BLANK EMPTY BLOG. I'm so mad. I'm soooooo mad give it back to meeee.
• THE END!
And with that I have answered all the asks I had in my inbox! Well, all the questions and stuff, I still have other stuff in my inbox like art requests but I'll get to that some other time if I feel like doing any of those! In any case, tysm for being patient everyone! Ik it took me very long to reply but I hope my responses were worth it! I wish all of you a nice day! My hand hurts from typing owie.
#📬 askbox#i talk abt sm stuff in this post holy cow.#it even has some art/animation advice bc some ppl asked for that so do read this post if it interests u!#oki DONE.#Youtube
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