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#this set is so retro of me no one here remembers but i do

beebeedibapbeediboop · 4 months

Note

Hi there! Your pieces often have this hazy, glowy quality and it’s beautiful! Do you use any overlays? I love your art!!

Oh yes I actually use a filter!

So here is how I add that slight glow to my drawings:

(This is for Clip studio paint users)

Easy version: Have your art as a png. Duplicate your only layer so you'll have two layers (the two same pictures). Select the upper layer

Go to:

Filter > Blur > Gaussian blur

Choose how much blur you want (not too much) and....BOOM!

You have a nice glow!

For CSP folks who know about Auto actions and want to be able to do it in one simple shortcut (with other cool effects):

So first you need to download the auto action retro effect v2:

(bear with me because everything is in french for me so I'm roughly guessing what it must be in english)

(Number: 1953549)

Then you are going to check your downloaded assets for that effect and click on this small thing at the bottom of your screen

This will add your effect into your automatic actions. To reach it, you need to click: File > shortcuts settings > Auto action

(this is for any auto action you might download so remember to do that each time)

This will open and you'll have your effect:

You'll have several actions available (which I invite you to test), but the one that's important is retro blur with a little bit of the others (sometimes I only use that blur)

Choose a shortcut of your choice (click on it and just tap it down) then click on "ok".

NOW you should have the blur effect. What I advise you is that once you finish a drawing, you make it into a png, jpeg, whatever file you want to post and use the effect on it (that way all the drawing is affected)

This will appear and you can play with it if you want more or less blur. If you don't want to hurt your eyes too much I would advise not put too much of blur. I also add a little bit of overlay (pink or purple, very little opacity)

And here you go!

Hope this helps ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#art tutorial #art tips #art references #clip studio paint tutorial

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fariesoiree · 2 months

Text

caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.

highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.

“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”

you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”

maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”

“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”

maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.

with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.

it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.

“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”

you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”

although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.

“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”

“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”

you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.

“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.

instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.

“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.

“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”

you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”

you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.

by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.

you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.

you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.

a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.

pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.

your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”

quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he’s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.

he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”

“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”

you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”

quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”

you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.

“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”

“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.

“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.

“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”

you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”

the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”

“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.

“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.

he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”

you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”

that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”

you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”

“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”

“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.

it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.

you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.

quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.

hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.

as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.

you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.

you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.

you’re sick to your stomach.

“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.

“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.

“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”

you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.

“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”

“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”

hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”

you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you.

“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”

for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.

your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”

“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.” parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”

he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.

“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”

you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”

there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.

the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.

you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.

he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.

“are you mad at someone?”

you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”

“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.

“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.

“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”

the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.

hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”

you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”

“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”

“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.”

the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.

“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.

hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”

“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”

you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.

“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”

you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.

truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.

here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.

that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.

“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”

you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.

“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”

“promise?”

you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”

you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.

it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.

you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.

you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.

“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.

it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.

“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”

maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”

“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”

“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”

you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”

“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.

“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”

what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.

maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.

“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”

“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.

“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.

“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.

frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.

it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?

it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.

the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.

you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.

you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.

“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”

“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”

“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.

“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.

you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one, it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.

you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”

you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”

you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.

“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”

you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”

hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.

you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”

your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.

“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”

“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”

“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.

“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”

you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”

“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”

your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.

“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”

one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.

“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”

“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”

you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”

“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”

you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”

your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.

finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”

you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.

“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.

“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.

“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.

“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.

“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”

you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”

hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”

for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.

hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”

that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”

hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”

“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”

“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.

“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”

“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”

“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”

“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.

you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.

“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”

“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”

“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.

you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.

he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”

you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”

“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.

reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”

he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”

hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.

you shake your head.

hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.

it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.

you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.

“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”

you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.

“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.

you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.

your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.

hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.

“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.

they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.

your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.

“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.

“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”

“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.

hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”

if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.

that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.

with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.

he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.

hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.

once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.

“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.

he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.

you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.

his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.

it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately.

“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.

“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.

“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.

“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.

you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”

“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.

you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.

he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.

almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.

“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.

in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”

you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.

you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.

it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”

you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.

the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.

“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”

you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.

hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”

you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”

he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”

you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

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squerlly · 4 days

Text

Fair Exchange Chapter 2

----------------------"love has an edge, don't fall off"---------------------

Alastor x (F! doe wife reader)

The Buck----------------------------------------------------

y/n served me my plate of venison for this morning's breakfast, she was wearing a 1950s retro-style dress. it was brand new, perhaps something she picked from Rosie's while getting my food for the week. Charlie has been bombarding me with ridiculous ideas for the hotel, but I'm more concerned for y/n. Angel has been extra close to her, I don't need him raising questions about her ties to me.

"y/n" her Marilyn Monroe curls bounce as she turns her head to me, fluffy ears twitching. I never knew how to feel about y/n being a doe, I find it quite fitting for her as my wife. Rosie says that I'm the luckiest demon for having a wife as kind and gentle as y/n. but the truth is she is right, y/n is kind and gentle... but that's because she's not supposed to be here.

"is there something I forgot?" she looks at me confused as she grips the tray in her hand "Not at all my dear, I would just like you to keep your distance from the others" Her shoulders fall slightly before she nods. she always puts my needs before her own almost as if she's afraid of me, I wouldn't be surprised if she was. y/n is very... obedient, I have never had an issue with her like with Husker.

she leaves the room with soft clicks of her heels on my wooden office floor, closing the door behind her I look down at my plate, the fresh deer meat glistening with blood. y/n always shows her gratitude in ways that some might not always see such as observing how I like my food prepared, or waking up early so I always have a cup of coffee at my desk. I find it all very strange.

she holds no complaints and does everything without having to be told almost like it's second nature, it has always been like this for as long as I can remember. eventually I finish my food and head downstairs to the lobby, seeing Niffty and y/n giggling and laughing together. they have always been great friends, coming from the same timeline they have quite a few things in common. I know y/n has greatly missed the company of others, she has read almost every book in our library trying to stay occupied while I'm gone. I'm... glad she's at least enjoying herself.

Charlie wanted to do trust exercises today, but she had a meeting with heaven, leaving me with the others. vaggie had this idea to create an advertisement for the hotel, asking me for assistance. normally I would have said no but, vaggie and I made a deal. she won't ask me to participate in their frivolous technology and ill help, and the deal was set.

as a few hours passed and Charlie returned looking quite upset, we sat down to watch this commercial before the news came on earning groans and grumbles from everyone. apparently the next extermination day was set a few months earlier, how troublesome. I glanced over at y/n who had a worried frown on her face, my manor was on the far side of the pride ring hidden from danger. most exterminators don't fly close in range to spot it, it came in handy when waiting out the purge.

she was never out there to see the danger, but it still upsets her. y/n forgets that hell is a punishment, she thinks there is still a salvageable soul in this dammed place, a lot like Charlie.

everyone stands to head to their room for bed, y/n walks to my side following me to the upstairs floor of our rooms. "don't worry my dear, everything will be fine" She whips her head around to meet my gaze looking surprised before her eyes soften. I'm not one for comforting others, but my reassurance seems to work. she walks into her room closing the door as I head to mine...

it took so long for me to get this out, my apologies. I was trying hard to stick with the show while adding bits of the storyline but I think this turned out pretty great. I hope you guys have a wonderful day/night!!! love you all

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz @kimmis-stuff

for more content please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

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plague-karm · 8 months

Text

Right time to analyse this shit because god dammit I have been silently making theories about this show the second I saw the premise I’m about to become the most annoying person on the planet on god so LETS GOOOOOOO-

First things first the animation looks fucking phenomenal (let Kevin Temmer cook, that man can do no wrong). Also Caine the guy ever, he is the silly and I love him wholeheartedly, he’s just a fucked up little guy who’s living his best life fr.

And also NEW CHARACTER HELLO.

They do be circling though.

THE SILLIES ARE HERE LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO 🎉🎉🎉

Smiling Gangle spotted ten seconds before disaster, no thoughts head empty indeed.

ALSO I WASN’T EXPECTING STUFF OUTSIDE THE CIRCUS BUT IT’S A WELCOME SURPRISE WHOA

They have come to steal your credit card information.

The thoughts I had of Ragatha being the lone brain cell keeping everything together were completely correct I CALLED IT- (it has been said by Gooseworx that she has been there the second longest so she’s probably gotten used to the zaniness by now…maybe)

A door that leads to a void?

Maybe it has something to do with this room in the teaser trailer? Possibly.

Tumblr sexyman spotted.

''If there was a way to leave I'm sure we'd have all left by now''

They're ✨suffering✨

This caught me off guard when I first saw it lmao (holy FUCK I love Zooble's design, they're everything to me).

''Welcome to your new home...AND your new body...''

So they're aware that they were human before they entered the circus? That's interesting considering what happens in a few seconds (I'll get to that soon). It's also worth mentioning that Gooseworx has stated that their clothes ARE a part of their bodies.

Case in point...

At the end of the character introduction compilation Gooseworx posted to their YouTube channel Pomni is heard saying something along the lines of

''How do I...take this...headset off?!''

I saw a few people theorizing about her talking about a VR headset and that was how she entered the circus to begin with (I had the same thoughts until very recently). However, considering how much of the visuals and character designs are based on old media (also a teaser image was set up as the menu screen for a retro game), I'm beginning to think that this isn't the case.

So it's incredibly likely that Pomni is actually talking about her jester headpiece since she can't take it off.

This scene is probably the first time Pomni sees her new body, pinwheel eyes and all.

''I'm fine with whatever, as long as I get to see funny things happen to people''

I love him he's so unbothered.

I'm sad that we didn't get to hear any dialogue from them but I can't wait to see them in the pilot! Kinger is love, Kinger is life.

''After a while you start to realise that you really can't leave, and constantly chasing an unattainable goal will start driving you a little crazy''

She's a little fucked up actually wow who saw that coming.

It sounds like Ragatha tried to leave a few times and just resigned to her fate after a while, her description DID say that she was the ''sweetest little optimist in the digital circus'', so maybe she's told the others that escaping is impossible and that they should make the best of their situation instead? (Also the framed picture of the right looks like some kind of void, a lot of void imagery here).

Also, Gooseworx released this image a short while ago and it has the same background that Ragatha had while she was talking so she's DEFINITELY talking to Pomni here.

''OH GOD! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER MY NAME?!''

EXCUSE ME? Okay time for some more speculation. I knew that their names definitely weren't their real ones but I wasn't expecting them to forget them!

Now, since the premise is said to be centred around Pomni and the others getting messed with by AI and their traumas, maybe instead of forgetting what their names were, they actually REPRESSED their memories from when they were human due to the trauma they went through? (Which would include their names)

I don't buy that they've COMPLETELY forgotten who they were (Zooble is aware that the body they're in isn't the one they used to have so I'm guessing everyone else knows that too.)

I'm guessing that their human lives absolutely SUCKED and they've now repressed their trauma to the point where they can barely remember who they were in the human world, this is just speculation.

''Thank goodness this is all a dream, right Pomni?''

What a sassy little guy (it's so weird hearing Michael Kovach sound so reserved, he's normally feral as hell playing these kinds of characters). The little mannequin symbol on the door is probably there for when new people stumble into the circus.

She's definitely seen some shit, I wonder what it could be though?

OH MY GOD THERE'S MORE OF THEM 😭

Wow this background looks...oddly normal. The only thing I can think of this being is Pomni witnessing a flashback of her human life before she showed up in the circus.

''You completely lose sight of who you are and why you're even alive and when you reach your breaking point something REALLY terrible can happen''

OH? Okay speculation time again. This is the closest hint we've gotten to what exactly one of the gang's traumas could be. Ragatha may have forced herself to stay positive in really shitty situations during her human life which likely lead to a lot of negative thoughts which eventually lead to her doing...something, I'm not sure what though, maybe it lead to her losing an eye? (Maybe her new body represents that?) I'm not sure. Maybe this is why she's been in the circus for as long as she has, instead of dealing with her feelings and existentialism, she instead continues to try to be someone who's more adjusted than they actually are.

Again, this is all just speculation, maybe it's just an Infinity Train type of thing where they can't leave until they learn to accept what they went through and how to work through it healthily idk.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Well, I'll tell you what I think it is.

I think it's this weird tar like tentacle thing from the teaser trailer, I don't see what else it could be.

And I'm 90% sure that whatever it is, it's connected to this room, and I think that THIS is gonna be where we'll be seeing what the gangs traumas are (Ragatha looked TERRIFIED when she was grabbed so if this was the case I wouldn't be surprised). I'd also like to speculate that this could possibly be another AI. There's Caine, Bubble, and whatever the hell those little shape creatures are, so it's very likely that other AI does exist, we just haven't seen them yet.

But who knows? I'm probably looking too much into it.

Woah new background, he is angy.

I would go into another theory I have about how their designs may hint at what trauma they have but I've spent over an hour writing, compiling trailer screenshots, and speculating every individual frame while suffering with chest pains I wanna go to bed

Holy shit that took WAY longer than I thought it would. I cannot WAIT to watch the pilot, this show has become one of my most anticipated projects of the year over the last few months and I can't wait to see what it has in store.

TL;DR: The trailer looks fire 10/10 can't wait for the inevitable Pomni plushes.

#karm rambles #the amazing digital circus #damn this is long #tadc #i'm so normal #glitch productions #gooseworx #i have gone insane

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 19 days

Note

Retro tries to surprise the Vees with a cooked treat during a meeting, unaware a new staff member (someone who wants to take Retro's place as the Vees favourite) has pranked them. Maybe making the cake they baked explode or something? (Points if Retro gets covered in cream because Vox and Val gotta love that until Retro would understandably be upset)

“Hello darling,” I said to Vox. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Valentino and Velvette. I set a box on the table with a treat I’d spent hours making. “I brought your favorite!”

“Oh, our favorite?” Vox asked, raising a brow. “It’s been awhile since you’ve made it, I must say I’m excited to have it.”

“I call dibs!” Velvette said with a grin.

“Hey!” Valentino said, giving her a look. “Mi amor likes me best, so clearly, I’ll have first pick.”

“Calm down,” I said with a small laugh. “At least let me open the box first!”

“Fine…” Val grumbled, crossing his arms.

I opened the box and took the treat out. It was nearly as perfect as I remembered. Nearly. There was one small-

“Fuck!” I yelled, as it exploded in my face. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Oh!” Val said, breaking out in laughter.

“Oh my god, Vox, please tell me you got that on camera,” Velvette said with a grin.

“Of course I did,” he said with a nod. “I have cameras everywhere.”

Meanwhile, I was trying to fix it. I was a mess, my clothes were ruined. It was horrible. I was embarrassed and upset and god- I was such a fucking disaster. “Sorry,” I said quickly, as I frantically tried to do clean it up. “I am so, so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this! It wasn’t- I was-”

I was cut off by the sound of laughter, from one of the newer employees. “Oh my god, that was too easy!” They said, bursting out in laughter again. I was silent, tears still pricking the corners of my eyes. “Such a stupid fucking bitch! Oh, oh! You should’ve seen the look on your face!”

“I…” I said, feeling even more embarrassed. “Sorry…” I said, looking away, utterly humiliated. I tried to go back to cleaning, my hands shaking. I was crying, I realized. I tried to wipe away my tears but my face and my hands still had icing all over them. “Sorry, sorry. God, I’m a disaster,” I said quietly, my voice strained as I tried to get a hold of myself.

“Don’t apologize,” Vox said softly. Velvette came over and helped try to calm me, giving me a handkerchief.

“Oh, are you crying?” The new employee asked with a grin, looking smug. “Fuck, you’re so weak! Learn to take a joke, damn.”

“You need to know your place,” Vox growled, glaring at them. “Leave. Now. Or else.” The demon froze for a moment, but didn’t leave.

“I… I spent hours on this,” I mumbled, wiping away my tears. I clenched my fists. “Hours, trying to make it perfect for you and I just… it’s gone.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Velvette said, rubbing my back.

“I’m sorry, mi amorosa,” Val said softy. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I thought it was apart of the plan, but… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I said quickly. “It’s fine. I’m just being dramatic. Overreacting.”

“Damn right,” the new employee muttered, crossing their arms.

“That’s it!” Val said, pulling out his gun. He aimed the pistol right at the demon and would’ve pulled the trigger- but Vox stopped him. “What are you-?”

“Not now,” he said quietly, giving him a pointed look. “Not here.”

The demon ran, not needing to be told to leave this time. Val sighed and put his pistol away. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Later.”

“Later,” Vox agreed.

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #valentino x reader x vox #vox fanfiction #vox hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader x valentino #vox x valentino x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader

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lou-struck · 8 months

Text

High Score

Leviathan x reader

~You take Levi to a human world arcade, where he is ready to show off his skills.

W.C: 2.1K

*This was kinda hard to finish since this was like mid-mental breakdown. But I got this done and I am so proud of myself for doing it.

The summer heat of the human world is a welcome sensation on your skin as you drag a slightly sweaty Avatar of Envy down the sidewalk. As a notorious shut-in, Levi doesn't do well in the sun, and although you had only stepped out of the portal Barbatos had prepared for the two of you two blocks ago, he is already out of breath.

Suddenly, the Demon digs his feet into the pavement, preventing the two of you from moving forward. "MC?" pants, trying and failing to hide his exhaustion 'A-are we almost there?"

You see the familiar half-lit neon sign just a few doors away, "We are so close Levi. I promise it will be nice and cool inside; we can get something to drink and enjoy the Air conditioning."

"Air Conditioning," he repeats in an eager whisper and picks his head up with newfound strength. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to the arcade."

His orange and purple eyes are sparkling with determination as you walk the rest of the way to the old-school arcade, where you promised to show him all your favorite classic machines. The red-bricked building looks just the same as before you were magically whisked away to the Devildom those many months ago; the only difference on the outside is a touch-up of fire engine red paint on the double wooden doors.

Pulling open the faded brass door handles, you are met with a strong gust of air conditioning. This second wind hugs you like an old friend as you walk towards the mantra of beeps and boops the retro arcade machines are playing.

"What do you think?" you ask, playfully bumping into Levi's shoulder. "Does this place meet your expectations?"

"Uhh yeah," he exclaims, looking at the rows and rows of games. "This place is so cool Mc. It looks like the arcade in the manga, 'Help! I've been sucked into a game, and the Gorilla King kidnapped me instead of the Princess.'"

How he manages to say such a long title in one breath never ceases to amaze you. But the title gives you a pretty good idea of what game he should try first.

"How about we start with Donkey Kong?" you laugh, reaching into the pocket of your shorts and pulling out a large sandwich bag full of tokens. You toy with the zipper and take out two, one for him and one for you. "Each machine in here only needs one credit, so I think we will be set to play all day without having to get more."

He carefully takes the coin from your hand but doesn't put it into the slot right away. "A-actually you should play first, Mc," he mumbles shyly, stepping back from the temptations on the screen.

"I'll do my best, but I haven't played this in a while," you say, slipping your own token into the slot. "The theme song blares from the old yet well-maintained speakers as the text 'L E V E L 1' flashes across the screen.

You grab hold of the red plastic joystick and place your other hand just over the jump button. Mario's little legs manage to leap over barrel after barrel as he makes his little pixelated self up the ramps. You may be rusty, but muscle memory is working well for you. Within two minutes, you make it to the top of the platform without losing any of your lives. You look to Levi with a smile of victory.

"You're the GOAT Mc," he cheers, leaning over your shoulder to look at the screen, watching in fascination as Donkey Kong swipes the Princess over his shoulder and carries her further up the tower for you to chase.

"I don't remember this part," you murmur, trying to familiarize yourself with the next level. As you move, sentient little fireballs that begin to chase after you. Moving your joystick, you try to gain enough speed to jump over the flames, only to set yourself on fire.

Apparently, you can't jump over them like the barrels from the last level.

Oh shoot," you hiss, watching as Mario falls to the ground and a little halo appears above his head before the screen resets.

"You're good; you still have two lives left." he encourages with clenched fists.

"We got this," you say brightly, moving the joystick once more. You only manage to make it a few steps before accidentally running into the little fireball that was chilling on the blue ladder above you, making you lose yet another life. "No, no, we're good." You sigh, gritting your teeth. You are brought to the bottom of the ladder, and you manage to avoid the fireballs as you try to collect the support blocks that are holding up the structure.

"Keep going Mc; now's the time to take down the Boss," he says, watching as you remove the fifth support on the gorilla's platform. "Just as you are about to cross over to the last one, you fall down the gap you had created and lose your final life.

"That was fun, how about you give it a try." you suggest, "Do you still have the token I gave you?"

"But, you were so close." Levi cries, taking the loss much harder than you are. "Wait, what are those?" he points to the list of high scores that flash on your screen once the 'Game Over' screen fades away with curiosity.

"Those are the machine's high scores." You explain, "If you do well, you can put your name on the board for everyone to see."

"So these are my rivals." he breathes, his hand twitching in anticipation as he takes his token and slides it into the machine.

As the screen once again comes to life, you feel a shift in the air. A competitive energy radiates off of Leviathan as he grips the joystick. Although he has only seen you do the basics, he expertly navigates the first stage, leaping over barrels and climbing ladders without a hint of hesitation.

With the first half of the level cleared you are brought to the next phase, where you met your demise only minutes earlier. But Levi looks at the screen as if it is nothing more than a challenge and jumps in fearlessly, collecting vintage landlines, parasols, and support beams until the platform disappears.

With the first level being cleared in the blink of an eye, you realize that the two of you will definitely be here for a while.

"You're really good at this," You say, placing a hand on his shoulder. You notice how he seems to lean into your touch, and he spares you a glance as the screen transitions to the start of Level Two.

"Could you stay there?" he asks with a shaky voice. The screen in front of him does little to hide the glow on his face. If he wasn't holding on to the joystick, you know he would try to hide his blushing cheeks with his hands. "You might be my good luck charm or whatever normies say."

You only laugh and give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I can do that. I promise I won't leave your side."

"T-thank you Mc." he murmurs softly, "I want to get that high score."

The thing with the Donkey Kong arcade game is that each level gets longer, faster, and more challenging. You have never even seen what lies beyond the end of level two, so this is all new territory for the both of you.

But Levi never falters, staring at the screen with amber eyes filled with determination. Even with a few strands of his purple hair covering his face, he seems comfortable. You are so focused on watching his features that you don't realize that he has successfully cleared level two just as easily as the first.

And what neither of you realize is that a small crowd of arcade onlookers are watching your screen from behind you.

The barrels in level three zoom across the screen at an uncomfortably fast pace, but Levi just jumps over them as if they were nothing. A part of you wonders if his skills are just a result of his inhuman reflexes, but after seeing how winded the Otaku got walking down the street to the arcade, you push that through from your head.

"Woah, is that guy even human?" one of the onlookers gasps as Levi clears level 3 without breaking a sweat. "I've never seen anyone get this far without taking any damage." You turn around to see that quite a large group of about twenty-five to thirty people are watching your screen in fascination.

The shy Demon's breath hitches; he doesn't usually play games in front of a live crowd, but you stop him from turning around and seeing just how large the crowd is.

"You got this Levi. Don't worry about them; they are just watching you."

"Live?" he murmurs with wide eyes. Despite his efforts to hide it, he trembles slightly. "I'm a shut-in for a reason; all this attention makes my stomach feel like it's tying itself in knots."

"Just think of it as a live stream." you encourage brightly. "If you focus on the game, you won't be able to see them at all."

"An IRL livestream?" he repeats, a small smile appearing on his face. "I can work with that."

"I knew you could." You grin, giving him a little peck on the cheek for good luck. He lets go of the joystick briefly to touch his cheek, trying to savor the sweet sensation of your lips.

"Look out!" One of the onlookers shouts as a barrel comes towards the in-game avatar. The next level had started.

Levi's hands fly back to the machine and he avoids the obstacle in the nick of time. "Oh, my Diavolo, that was close." He mumbles just loud enough for you to hear. He turns his attention fully back to the screen and starts running up the ramp.

"Too close," you sigh as the crowd behind him only seems to grow in number and tenacity as they react to every little movement on the screen. The idea of flustering him with something as simple as a peck on the cheek is flattering beyond words, and you smile devilishly, planning to use this little method to distract him during your game nights.

"He's almost there." someone yells as Levi reaches the final platform. The Fireballs flicker menacingly, creeping across the screen, but they are no match for Levi's inhuman gaming reflexes. He climbs, collects, and leaps as if he were the one inside the game fighting for his life, holding the joystick as if it were his lifeline.

Aside from the machine, not a sound can be heard in the bustling arcade as everyone watches Levi grab the last support beam.

DK crashes to the ground, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Levi shyly looks over his shoulder to see just how many humans were cheering him on. He looks nervous, but this is one of the first times the Avatar of Envy has been so openly praised in a public setting. For once, he doesn't have to worry about not being as strong as Beel, as flashy as Mammon, or as put-together and OP as Lucifer. Today, he gets to be Leviathan, and people like him for it.

It puts a real smile on his face, even as the crowd thins and the arcade populace goes to play games of their own.

"Levi, look, you got the high score on the machine," you exclaim, pointing at the blinking Number One spot on the machine. Your interjection was a welcome, distracting him from thinking any more about his perceived shortcomings or petty comparisons.

The other scores look so much smaller than his, and a proud smile appears on the Demon's face as he types in the first three letters of his name.

L.E.V

"Should I start calling you Lev now?" you tease watching the cute way his brow furrows as he tries to figure out what nickname he should put instead.

He turns to look at you, accidentally pressing the submit button in the process. "No, I didn't mean to do that. Why am I so embarrassing?" he puts his head in his hands and stares at the score sheet.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out another token for him, "Now you'll just have to beat your own high score."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me fluff

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21jumpstreet-x-reader · 9 months

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Pretty Lady

Summary: Your favorite co-worker offers you a ride.

The room was dark and the only light was coming from your lamp. Your eyes dropped as you leaned on your hand, trying not to fall asleep. Your head leaned forward before you jolted back up. You groan, before rubbing your temples.

"Y/n, what are you doing still here? It's late."

You look up to the voice, a little foggy, "Paperwork." You yawn, as you lean back in your chair, trying not to fall asleep.

"How are you going to get home?"

"I was going to take the subway-"

Tom bends over to look you in the eyes," In your condition? You'll fall asleep before you make it underground. I'll drive you home."

"No, it's fine." You yawn again, your eyes, slowly drifting, "I'll be.... I'll be fine..."

"Yeah, no. I'm taking you home."

----

"Nice car," You remark, observing his air freshener, which was a pair of dice. "Retro," You say, gesturing towards them.

"My ex got it for me."

"I don't really keep anything my exs give me," You lean on your arm, letting the wind blow in your face to try and keep yourself awake.

"Sometimes you kind of get stuck with it."

You nod, "Yeah. Take a right here. I get that," You turn to him, "But even if I did, I wouldn't keep it where I can see it unless I missed them."

He chuckles, "You sound jealous."

You laughed a little, your head bobbing a little. "There's nothing to be jealous of," You remark, leaning your head on his dashboard.

"How long have you been up?" He said, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

"Couldn't sleep last night. So much noise... Friday night parties."

"You do live right next to a main high way."

"No.... College kids. NYU... a few blocks away. They're not usually loud, but... You know... Holidays," Your sentences became shorter as you slowly drifted to sleep.

"Do you want me to take you to my place?"

There was a moment of silence, before he lightly shook you, and you straightened up, "No, it's fine.... Walk... Stairs... No, elevator... Quick. So tired... Knock out... the couch."

"Yeah, I'm taking you to my place. I don't trust that you'll make it to your apartment."

---

Tom parked his car, before turning towards you, but from the looks of it, you were knocked out. He lightly grabbed your bicep, softly rocking you, but you didn't wake up. He takes out his key, before opening his door, shutting it, and going to your side.

He opens the door, quickly grabbing you when you nearly fell out. He pushes his hands towards your knees, before picking you up princess-style.

He takes you to his apartment, softly shutting the door with his foot. He goes to his bed, lightly placing you on his bed, covering you, before heading towards his living room. Tom goes towards his closet, grabbing some extra blankets and pillows before setting up a spot on the couch.

----

You felt the light hit your face and burn into your eyes. You quickly sit up when realizing you weren't in your room. You look around the bedroom, before going to the curtains and closing them. You rub your head, trying to remember what had happened last night. You had been so tired, it was all a blur.

You slowly open the bedroom door and looked down the hallway, before spotting a light coming from the living room. You slowly walk towards it, surprised when you see Tom.

"Morning, Sunshine."

The male looks towards you, cracking a smirk, "Did you sleep well, Sleeping Beauty?"

"Peace and quiet was nice," You yawn, "College guys were celebrating because one of them got straight A's for the semester. They're usually pretty chill."

"You were knocked out like a rock," He chuckles.

"Yeah. They've been at it all week. Haven't been able to get any sleep. Slept in my car during lunch."

"Aww, you poor thing," He jokingly mocks, raising his hand towards you to caress your cheek. "You're always welcomed to stay with me."

"How charming," You roll your eyes, "Besides, it's not a big deal. Kids like partying."

"Young and free. No parents to tell them no."

"Yeah. You know Tom," You look over at him, making direct eye contact, "Thanks... You know... For letting me stay."

"Like I said, you're always welcome here. I mean it."

"Thanks Tom. I appreciate it."

#21 jump street #yandere 21 jump street #yandere tom hanson x reader #yandere tom x reader #tom hanson x reader #yandere tom #tom x reader #tom hanson #yandere tom hanson #yandere 21 jump street x reader #21 jump street x reader #21 jump street show

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madhogthymaster · 20 days

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Master Recs: The "N64" Trilogy (2023)

Pseudoregalia

Let us muse over a very small, three-dimensional Metroidvania game stylistically fashioned after the Nintendo 64 era of graphical fidelity. It stars a deliciously polygonal rabbit-y, goat-y, cat-like girl.

Now, I am playing this on the fabled Steam Deck. It runs and controls smoothly on the platform but you might require to fiddle with the video settings as the default configuration is slightly blurry due to a very specific and fascinating reason. It turns out Pseudoregalia vaunts a certain level of depth in its technical customization, one that's surprisingly fun to manipulate. There's an option to toggle on or off a retro graphical scale and character movement rate, which graciously emulate the old school console experience. You can also manually reduce or augment the maximum framerate for the whole game. You could theoretically play something that looks like a 30 fps 3D Platformer from 1997 or the most HD upscaled version thereof at 144 fps, or everything in between! The default, blurry configuration comes as a result of the aforementioned retro scaling clashing with the 4K resolution in full screen mode. This is the first and last time in recorded human history that I will ever be this enamoured with "specs talk."

The point is, we have a darling gem with a cultivated aesthetic, a good level of polish: it will look "right" regardless of your favoured settings. I'm impressed by the extra layer of work placed in the subtle use of limited framerates for the character's movement.

Pseudoregalia captures the idea, the abstract concept and low-poly charm of a N64 title with a gameplay that recalls your memory of it, rather than the unwieldy reality. I say this as someone who doesn't have nostalgia for early 3D graphics: the game makes them look spiffy.

I shall be honest, this is normally not the sort of title I would enjoy playing, as precise platforming and traversal puzzles are my nemesis. I mentioned afore the level of polish, which is generally consistent, but some of the movement upgrades you get (such as the jump/wall kick) can be rather finicky to master. In that sense, be wary that the game does not openly provide you with tutorials for the moves that require more finesse, choosing instead to hide an additional set of instructions in the inventory descriptions. It's "old school", you see. Older versions were bereft of maps thus making exploration a burden for those like me who are directionally challenged - both in games and in real life. Regardless, I kept getting drawn by its world, its somber atmosphere, its tight gameplay and especially its protagonist, Sybil.

An appealing design for your avatars goes a long way in ensuring an emotional connection to them and Sybil just so happens to have one of the most striking and instantly recognizable appearances I can fathom. It's a pleasure to look at her go! Furthermore, I would posit that she has a lot in common with my precious videogame fluffy boy, Klonoa - and I do I mean, a lot. I will not elaborate. If you get it, you get it. In conclusion, Pseudoregalia is an impressively put together jam. It's easy to pick up yet punishing to handle, it's fun and fascinating in spite of its more irritating aspects. The best overall critique I can give it is that it made me want to keep trying, and trying, and trying, until I eventually became good enough to complete it several times and even beat the insanely hard Time Attacks. In short: game is good. Play it.

---

Corn Kidz 64

If I had a nickel for every time a throwback 3D Platform game starring a cute goat-like creature managed to grab my attention, I would have a whopping three nickels! Anyway, here is Corn Kidz 64, an artistically verosimile homage to the Rareware games you probably remember.

Deliciously stylized polygons welcome both you and I into a quirky mindscape. You play as a rude little prick named Seve who's having a vivid nachos related dream but has to contend with various bollocks - as it's often the case.

If you are even marginally familiar with all the Kanjo-Bazooies and Konkey Dongs out there then you will recognize its sphere of influences right away. It's a proper tribute to that era of gaming up to the inclusion of the "correct" low video resolution settings and insane completion requirements. There is much puzzling and platforming to be had, tactical traversal and secrets-within-secrets to bamboozle and titillate your gamer's lizard brain. Genre freaks will feel very welcome here.

I will say that I find the character design especially pleasing. Aesthetically, I would place it somewhere in between Rayman. Belgian comic book artist André Franquin and web strips from twenty years ago or more. It's expressive, to say the least.

As a sign of good will from the game's part, this is the track that greets you as you plunge into the realm of your dreams of childhood:

Corn Kidz 64 is a short, fun experience, bedazzled by tight controls, surreal atmosphere and "Early Internet" humour. It does not overstate its welcome and only occasionally gets immensely frustrating. Its dedication to the N64 ethos is both a boon and a detriment, in that sense. Let me put it this way: I shall not be doing a 110% completion run any time soon.

---

Cavern of Dreams

As a direct result of me wanting more, here is Cavern of Dreams. Yet another N64 aesthetically driven title that came out last year but was promptly overshadowed by Funny Goat Game and Sexy Goat Game - as far as my own pop cultural myopia is concerned, that is.

It is a small yet multilayered Collect-A-Thon with an emphasis on exploration rather than combat or complex platforming. There is no health bar and there are no traditional enemies. There is a handful of puzzles here and there, some of which might be legitimate head scratchers. The dragon baby is cute. I do have a couple of gripes with this one.

Playing this game is, in a word, annoying. It is bothersome how weighted and limited the movement is, it is fastidious how the character collision is in relation to the environment, it is aggravating how it all affects the gameplay in small yet noticeable ways. Here's an example: you can use the traditional ground pound to gain extra height. However, in order to do so, you have to keep pressing the attack button while in midair. The problem with that is the game still registers it as an attack when you do so. As such, if you happen to be hugging a wall, atop a small ledge, this action will inevitably cause your character to hit said wall and propel you backwards, resulting in you falling to your doom. This happened constantly. Generally speaking, the control scheme doesn't feel ideally tailored to an experience that requires precise platforming. A repeated offender would be grabbing onto climbable ropes. Which is to say, sometimes it just doesn't happen. You'll float towards a rope and, if the collision isn't pixel-perfect, you will miss it entirely. Also, Baby is unable to jump above once he climbs all the way to the top, half the time. The later levels are worse in that regard as they need some amount of skill.

Speaking of which, something that will always make me consider quitting a game in a fit of rage is being sucked down a drain that expels me into a different area, forcing me to walk all the way back to where I was before. Once again, annoying is the word.

All that said, the saving grace of Cavern of Dreams lies in the exquisitely crafted, imaginative stages that compose the dreamlike tapestry of the game's aesthetics: living airborne vessels, desolate ice kingdoms, nightmarish art galleries that twist and distort your senses.

The use of colour hues, sounds and deliberately non-contiguous spaces create this palpable atmosphere of both wonder and anxiety. A welcoming world may turn weird and alienating. A dream may turn into a nightmare. There is a depth beneath the surface presentation that is absolutely worth experiencing. I really wanted to like this game but, alas, I'm left with mostly mixed feelings. Regardless, it's an adorable title with some tinges of darkness and it might just be for you!

---

As a conclusive note, I find myself enthralled by the subtle similarities these games share as well as their abundant differences. All of them are stylistically reminiscent of a specific bygone era whilst being perfectly distinct in presentation, and they all are about Dreams...

They are about exploring dreamscapes, lands where subconscious thoughts and memories materialize in daunting vistas of a forlorn past, comically bizarre hyper-realities from an active imagination or an infant's idea of the world around itself. Pondering about the familiarity of it all fills me both with comfort and melancholy: the parallelism of Dream, Childhood and Gaming. The distant memories of youth in correlation to the experience of videogame escapism are akin to a dream from which we are expected to wake... Well, now I just want to gush about Klonoa again!

In fact, I would go as far as to say that Corn Kidz 64's "plot resolution" feels like a direct parody of Door to Phantomile's ending, and it gets funnier the more I think about it.

---

A/N:

Thank you for reading.

Follow Madhog on:

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#twitter #corn kidz 64 #pseudoregalia #cavern of dreams #dreasm #klonoa #platforming #3d #n64 #steam #review #master recs

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luyepiaofeng · 8 months

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˖⁺‧₊˚✦ ways to make your laptop aesthetic feat. some extensions, websites & apps for students

i created this cause i found some time to finally upgrade and properly personalise my laptop, it took me almost an entire day watching youtube videos, researching for these and setting them up. so... i'm basically posting this for myself lol, but i also feel like sharing cause these are actually really good hehe

i'm using a windows laptop but i think most of these should work on mac too. most of these are free but there are maybe like less than five that require to be paid.

those that are marked with an asterisk (*) are the ones that i'm currently using while others are recommended or alternatives!

here is what my home screen looks like now:

i. screen saver

fliqlo (ios & win) * flipit (win, an inspired & alt ver of ^) flix clock (mac & web, paid ver comes with colours other than black) aura gradient clock (mac & web) retro anime desk clock (mac) flocus (web) * studywithme (web) note: remember to right-click the file and select "install", then ensure that the wait time (e.g: 5 mins) is less than your "turn off your screen" and "put my device to sleep after" (e.g: both 15 mins) in power settings

ii. tab themes

kluk: a clock tab theme * angry study helper: a tab theme that gets angy at u whenever u open a new tab gratitutab: a minimalistic tab theme that works as a to-do list prioritab: a tab theme that shows priorities that u had set for the day, week, and month

iii. extensions

tldr this: summarizes long docs, websites, articles, etc. with just a click * paperpanda: download research papers by clicking on it, it searches on domains like google scholar, semanticscholar, aodoi, and more * coffeelings: mainly a mood tracker that also saves mini journal entries colorzilla: an eyedropper colour picker * whatfont: click on it and hover on any text to show what font it is * mybib: an apa, mla, harvard, and more styles citation generator * read aloud: a tts reader that supports more than 40+ languages * notion web clipper: creates a website into a bookmark into notion * noisli: lets u listen to relaxing playlist while u study/work

iv. websites

lofi.cafe i miss the office i miss my cafe i miss my bar i miss my library a soft murmur patatap tomato timers animedoro lifeat coolors blush designs untools fontjoy zenpen decision maker museum of endangered sounds future me

v. apps

virtual cottage chill corner notion *

vi. rainmeter skins

mond * lano visualizer amatical * small clean weather animated * ageo sonder * cloudy harmattan note: if you're new to rainmeter, it can be a bit overwhelming, u may check out this short and simple tutorial on it, make sure to read the instructions if you're using complicated skins like weather (may require u to edit in txt), i also highly rec watching techrifle's videos

vii. misc.

wallpaper engine * (highly rec getting from chillhop) my live wallpaper (free alt of ^) translucenttb * roundedtb note: u can disable your shortcut icons to be invisible by right-clicking on your home screen, go to "view", and untick "show desktop icons", this is optional and i would always enable it whenever i'm working and gaming for easier access, i also set the icons to small

#luyepiaofeng #students #websites #aesthetic #laptop #desktop #customisation #extensions #minimalistic

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iamacolor · 5 months

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2023 sewing projects - part 2 details at the end of the post (click here for part 1)

Note: I work for a fabric shop so I get most of my fabrics fabric for free as well as some patterns as I have to be wearing our products at work (I definitely consider it a perk). Without this job I would not be sewing as much and I'd probably be buying most of my fabric second hand or on sale as I used to do before. I also sometimes sew during work hours so keep that in mind if you're also a sewist, go at your own rythm 💜 Although I have basic training in pattern drafting I prefer to sew from pre-existing patterns to save on time (as i have to regularly make myself some new clothes for work) and discover new techniques and styles - but I often change stuffs to adapt the designs to my style.

1 - same pants as in part 1 but this time in a double wool crepe from italy (i found it in a charity shop and the border says so in italian - it's absolutely gorgeous, i found 3 pieces of it at once for like 10 € each. I made a dress in the first piece, then these pants in the second)

2 - dream dress in a coton double gauze - the gingham is sized differently on each side of the fabric so i had fun deciding where to put which but i had less fun gathering all of that fabric (the nice thing is it's super light and i get a lot of compliments on it) - the pattern has a short sleeves version that i'd like to make for this summer

3 - a simple tee made in ribbing fabric (usually used for the collar and wrist pieces on sweater) - the pants were made last year but they're the same pattern as the pink ones in part 1, just the slim leg version!

4 - another super quick make in a modal fabric (it's so soft and nice to work with), the last one i made in june before my tendinitis stopped me from touching my machine for a couple of months (and tbh i maybe shouldn't have made this one lol)

5 - first project back on the sewing machine during the summer holidays, very quick one in the remnants of the linen-viscose blend i used to make the matching set in part 1 (can you tell i love this fabric and this colour?)

6 - a mini retro skirt in coton gabardine - the skirt was made to be short and as i'm taller than the average height used in patterns i lengthened it but almost not enough as i ended up having to do a single fold of 1cm to hem the bottom instead of the usual 1 + 2/3 lol

7 - ok so this one...i went in with no pattern and not much thoughts tbh i took this striped fabric and decided to turn thop of the piece into a plain colour by folding it repeatedly so that the folds would reveal the secondary colour by opening - it was super long to make especially because i just cut straight on the side instead of taking into account the fact that I am very much not straight from the waist down to the hips so i had to do a little fixing on the side seams once all the folding and assembling was done before i could put in the zipper. I was very proud of this skirt when I finished it but I've only worn it twice since then (september lol) because it's absolutely awful to iron it (and although i stitched every single fold on one side i still have to press them all one by one)

8 - these curtains are made in a wax fabric given to me by my grandmother who got it from a church friend who brought it from her homecountry in Africa (can't remember where that is, sorry) - they're lined in a dark navy coton so they can be more occulting (the same used at the bottom for the ruffles as the piece of fabric was too small for my curtains to go all the way down). I did this project in an evening so the inside finishes are very rough and i didn't even iron them but i was hellbent on finishing them on the day I started (after months of just having the fabric draped over the window as a makeshift curtain) - it doesn't show too well on the pictures but the darker yellow is actually gold!

#vinformation #my sewing #i also made a bag for a colleague who had a baby and a computer pouch for my brother at christmas but i didn't take pics #i might do a post with my mending projects too #sewing #crafts

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jbaileyfansite · 10 months

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Jonathan Bailey’s Interview with Esquire (2023)

What’s important to Jonathan Bailey? Punctuality. “I'm far too worried about letting people down to be late,” he explains, sitting opposite me in a suite in Heckfield Place, a grand estate in the Hampshire countryside. “Working on set and especially being an actor, sometimes you're not told if you’re late; people are too scared to. So I'm hyper, hyper vigilant. The older I get the more it feels like so much time has been wasted worrying about being late.”

The 35-year-old actor has travelled here – in good time, naturally – to host a dinner celebrating the Omega Seamaster’s 75thanniversary, his first bit of ambassadorial duty since taking on the role in April. Dining in a Georgian manor down the road from Jane Austen’s house, it's easy to make comparisons to the lodgings of one of Bailey’s most famous fictional roles: English nobleman Anthony Bridgerton (from the Netflix show Bridgerton, if you’re not part of the 82 million households that watched season one). One of his character's most prized possessions is his father's pocket watch, and Bailey shares that familial relationship with timepieces, too.

“My dad had an Omega growing up,” he says, then explaining how his “Nana” wore her mother’s watch. “From a younger perspective, I remember thinking that they were a signifier of adulthood and sophistication.” But now, the Oxfordshire-born actor uses them to help tap into different roles. “I know people talk about music that gets them into character, or fragrances or jewellery, but for me, I've played many characters who've had specific watches. When you're trying to build a character, you realise the significance of that.”

While many have come to know Bailey as the lead in the show’s second season – it’s Netflix’s most popular English-language TV series, accruing 627.11 million hours of watch time in four weeks, bumping season one to second place – Bailey's career started in childhood.

He played Gavroche in the West End production of Les Misérables at nine years old, and moved into TV in his twenties with detective drama Broadchurch, Michaela Cole’s Chewing Gum and Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Crashing. But it was his roles on stage – an Olivier Award-winning performance in Company as well as Mike Bartlett’s Cock, to name a few – that helped him grow as an actor.

“I think you have to go back to stage to learn your craft, because you have to do it every single day,” he explains. “You learn how to tell stories in different ways, and then you take that craft and you put it on screen. But I do think that I feel more alive and connected to life having been on stage.”

This autumn, he’s returning to the TV in another love-infused period drama. Adapted from Thomas Mallon’s 2007 novel, his next project, Fellow Travelers, follows a romance between war hero Hawkins Fuller (Matt Bomer) and religious idealist Tim Laughlin (played by Bailey) from the early-Fifties Lavender Scare – a US policy that saw gay and lesbian government employees fired due to a moral panic about homosexuality – to the ‘80s AIDS crisis.

But despite a seeming predisposition for stories from a bygone year, Bailey is more interested in the universality of people's characters: “The nerd in me is obsessed with the idea of the consistency of humanity, and how people fundamentally stay the same even with the evolution of the world around them.”

Clearly, Bailey is a watch guy. But is he a dress-watch-with-a-bow-tie guy? A retro digital watch guy? Or, dare I say, a timepiece and step-counter in one, guy? It turns out he’s the type who’ll put a diving watch through its paces.

“There's something so peaceful about being submerged underwater,” he says of scuba diving, one of the many outdoor activities Bailey will do with a watch on his wrist. “And if you've got an underwater watch, like a Seamaster, all you can hear is the echo of its tick.”

Source

#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interview #interviews:2023 #esquire #esquire interview 2023 #NEW!

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therobotmonster · 1 year

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This Toy Does Not Exist: ReSculpt

An experiment of using Midjourney's Describe and Image Prompting functions to remaster previously-generated AI content.

A ways back I did This Toy Does Not Exist, using LookingGlassAI, by manually training a diffusion model on hundreds of action figure pictures. I was strongly limited by my processor and the resources at the time, and eventually moved to Midjourney as I can only afford so many art tools, and it was the more powerful option.

For these images, I submitted the original This Toy Does Not Exist picture to Midjourney's describe feature. I then generated using the provided prompts, but also included the original image as an image prompt. Settings --s 50 --IW 2 --V 5 (style 50, image weight 2, version 5)

I then picked my favorite out of the sixteen images produced per base image (All AI art is curated, always remember that) . My goal, in general, was to produce stuff that still had that retro figure feel. Most of the stuff MJ produces is very modern, and my previous remaster attempts were similarly a little too polished and glyos-y for my vision.

I've been toying with similar processes on my old style transfer pieces, and a lot of stuff made using the specialized Artbreeder generators.

The limitations are apparent. The wilder stuff that the more basic AI didn't know was atypical gets smoothed out. In some cases, that's a help, as more abstract stuff can be re imagined into something more cohesive, but that AI madness is blunted a bit, and I like that aspect.

Of course, that's where human involvement comes in, as any of these that I might decide to actually sculpt will be changed through that process to fit my druthers of how it turned out. Because that's what AI makes well. Building blocks.

Explanations of the features used are under the fold. As everything here is autogenerated, it does not meet the minimum human expression threshold and is all in the public domain.

Describe is Midjourney's its own version of Clip Interrogator, which can derive a prompt from an image. It's looser than Clip Interrogator, gives multiple options, and generally makes stuff in similar vibes but doesn't match style or even subject matter closely without prompt editing. It essentially has the AI examine a picture, match its observed elements in its token-language, and then translate that back into an english-formatted prompt.

Image Prompting is an older feature that does essentially what Describe does, but it never translates the generated tokens back into words, and instead uses those tokens as a prompt, combined with a text prompt or at least one other image. These limitations are there to force novelty and prevent intentional overfitting/image copying, for the same reason the describe prompts are shorter and more vague than their Clip-Interrogator equivalents.

Image prompting is not the same as overpainting, wherein a base image is used in place of random JPG noise for the generation start. MJ doesn't do overpainting because of fears of its use for deepfakery and plagiarism. Ironically, that prevents people like me from sketching up our own layouts and using MJ to directly fill them in, but there's tradeoffs in every situation I suppose.

Not posting specific prompts because this post is already bloated AF. But anyone can use my technique.

#this toy does not exist #this action figure does not exist #midjourney v5 #midjourney #ai artwork #ai experiments #action figures #unreality #toys #toyetic

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celluloidstyle · 1 year

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pump up the volume (1990)

director: allan moyle

costume designer: michael abbot

production design: robb wilson king

set dec: tina treglia (peterson)

cinematographer: walt lloyd

BEING WEIRD ISN'T ENOUGH not sure why i like this pin, but i like it.

this film takes place on the cusp between the 80s and the 90s, but i loved that these kids drove these 60s/70s(?) cars, i think to signify that they were low income and couldn't afford modern cars? but i love the atmosphere in this shot.

not the greatest screencap, but i adored everything janie (lala sloatman) wore. the cat-eye glasses, the oversized pink pearl earrings, the ponytail scarf. even though i related to nora's artsy side, i wanted to be janie.

mark (christian slater) is like two different people. at home, he wears cool retro bowling shirts embroidered with the name "dick" and sasses his parents, but at school he wears bland clothing (like he wants to blend into the background) and acts all shy.

i also just really loved mimi kennedy as mark's mom, marla, using a teacup to ash her cigarette into, i just thought it was so posh!

again, loving janie's dangly statement earrings, and the colour combo with her floral bolero (?) and sweet pink dress. i didn't love nora's (samantha mathis) outfit as much, but i was intrigued by the piece she wears over her dress. it ties at the back of her neck, and i think again on her lower back, so it's like a... halter vest? the turtle necklace is pretty dope, and though you can't see it in this shot, she is also wearing purple and white striped tights.

paige's (cheryl pollak) bedroom is a dream! the floral wallpaper and the white bed are so lovely, but the seafoam green radio really makes the colour scheme pop.

man i wish i had a teacher this cool! ellen greene as jan emerson (do they call her miss emerson in the movie? i can't remember), wears the coolest outfits, and she is introduced in this amazing mustard suit accessorized with a turquoise bolo tie! the look is amazing, but it also alerts us that this film takes place in arizona.

paige, doing her WASP thing in an oversized sweater over a blouse, with a string of pearls. it's the necklace that does it for me.

i mostly just wanted to see how many celebrities i could identify in this shot: keanu reeves, johnny depp, george michael, kirk cameron, corey haim, richard grieco... (stole this image from imdb as it was much clearer than my screenshot)

i forgot that plaid wallpaper was a thing and i think it's due for a comeback. particularly loving the plaid (shirt) on plaid (wallpaper) in this scene, so cozy, like a cabin!

so many things to love in this scene: number one, the heart curtains; number two, the kitten sweatshirt (the kittens look like they might be puffy and i can feel it in my mind); number three the "homework causes brain damage" sign on the wall--classic! number four, the clear lamp filled with gumballs? and the cow hanging from it! number five and six, the blue radio and the clear phone! i want one!

did you notice that the tissue box in the highschool staff room is the same as the tissue box in the depressed student's room? do you think it was the same box?

nora's room reminded me of my own room in highschool-- walls plastered with images, and plenty of candles. i think nora might have been one of the prototypes for the manic pixie dreamgirl.

Believe It Or Not I Care

mazz's (billy morrisette) denim and leather look is good.

an example of one of mark's drab shirts, but also nora's completely adorable velvet blouse with a peter pan collar! also, i'm learning that the next time i wear a collared shirt, i need to add a long statement necklace.

so this scene is near the end of the film, and i loved mark's shirt here. i also realized that it's more of a cooler, bolder look than he has previously worn to school, so i think it's supposed to symbolize mark coming out of his shell and revealing more of his true self at school/in public. look at me, i get things.

finally, loving this floral blouse and braided leather suspender on miss emerson. i would probably wear this.

BONUS here's a picture of drew barrymore at "an event" for pump up the volume (according to imdb), i'm assuming it's the premiere, just looking cool and badass. i need that jacket.

another bonus: this adorable promo photo of christian & samantha <3

anyways, most of these pics are my own screenshots, but you should check out higher resolution images on imdb. i couldn't find any articles about the wardrobe in this film, but i did find this 30th anniversary article that was interesting.

#pump up the volume #1990 #nineties #nineties films #christian slater #samantha mathis #allan moyle #lala sloatman #mimi kennedy #cheryl pollak #ellen greene #billy morrisette #drew barrymore

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randomvarious · 8 months

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Today's compilation:

Reloaded 3 2001 Alternative Rock / Indie Rock / Pop-Rock / Britpop / Post-Grunge / Nu Metal

Back in the early 2000s, the compilation arm of Universal Music put out a brief series of double-discs in the UK called Reloaded that ended up serving as something of a contemporaneous snapshot of the country's wide alternative rock landscape, spanning from soft and folky, indie-type stuff, to the most banal of radio rock, to the leading rock sound du jour at the time that was nu metal. And for an American listener like me, this series' third installment here, from '01, mostly makes for a great and clashing mix of bad and dumb nostalgic fun with some genuinely good turn-of-the-millennium rock fare that I'm not nearly as familiar with.

But although this comp is heavily dominated by rock music, the tracks that close out each disc are actually electronic, and I think they happen to be the two best songs of this whole set. Maybe you don't know Finnish band Pepe Deluxé's nifty vocal breakbeat tune, "Before You Leave," by name, but perhaps you remember it from this big and strange 2001 Levi's ad? 🤔

youtube

And the other swell non-rock tune is UK duo I Monster's retro-futuristic trip hop classic, "Daydream in Blue," which was then later sampled by Lupe Fiasco for his own "Daydreamin'." But as you could probably tell, I Monster themselves sampled from another song to create their own too, which was a cover of Belgian band Wallace Collection's "Daydream," that was done in 1960 by a German group called Günter Kallmann Chor.

Now, for the cream of the crop when it comes to the actual rock music on here, there's Cali indie band Grandaddy, who also happen to provide the theme music for one of my favorite podcasts too, Citations Needed, which isn't a music-related show, but you should definitely listen to anyway 😁. On "Hewlett's Daughter," the group provides a soft and light, floaty indie groove, with frontman Jason Lytle playing keyboards while also delivering some Neil Young-type vocals.

And another rock song I really love on here is one that feels way more formulated for an alt-rock radio type of format, but in that regard, it excels exceptionally well as an unrelentingly smooth and upbeat tune: "Catch the Sun," by UK indie band Doves. This one doesn't appear to have charted in any capacity Stateside, but it probably would have if it had been given a real chance to. And it was featured in Project Gotham Racing too, which is a videogame that I happened to play a lot of when this song was around, so maybe that's partially why I enjoy it as much as I do 🤔.

And for the fun and dumb nostalgia, we have a whole litany of stuff: Limp Bizkit's "Rollin'," Papa Roach's "Last Resort," Matchbox Twenty's "If You're Gone," Wheatus' "Teenage Dirtbag," Bloodhound Gang's "The Bad Touch"—whose new wave intro I've always really loved—and Creed's "With Arms Wide Open," which sees Scott Stapp singing the word 'man' like no one had probably ever heard before ('mahhn') and then singing the word 'demand,' which partially rhymes with 'man,' in a completely different way, but also pretty much exactly like you would've expected him to sing it anyway ('demayhnd')?

So, I pretty much love this thing. Quality rock music, a couple terrific alt-electronic tunes that have aged really well, and then a bunch of songs that will take you right back to the silliness that represented so much mainstream rock music in 2001.

Highlights:

CD1:

Limp Bizkit - "Rollin' (Air Raid Vehicle)" Papa Roach - "Last Resort" Muse - "New Born" Queens of the Stone Age - "The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret" Wheatus - "Teenage Dirtbag" Feeder - "Seven Days in the Sun" JJ72 - "Algeria" Placebo - "Taste in Men" Ocean Colour Scene - "Up On the Down Side" Grandaddy - "Hewlett's Daughter" Elbow - "Red" PJ Harvey - "A Place Called Home" My Vitriol - "Grounded" Bloodhound Gang - "The Bad Touch" Pepe Deluxé - "Before You Leave"

CD2:

Stereophonics - "Have a Nice Day" Doves - "Catch the Sun" Creed - "With Arms Wide Open" Turin Brakes - "Underdog (Save Me)" Lowgold - "Counterfeit" Thirteen:13 - "Truth Hurts" Matchbox Twenty - "If You're Gone" I Monster - "Daydream in Blue"

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tackyink · 5 months

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Convention haul! There wasn't barely any BG3 merch and the only thing I was interested in was gone before I found the artist's table. Still, my poor wallet...

First is the last volume of a very cute fanzine I've been reading for years, two Ace Attorney prints and a DS charm with the least heterosexual lawyers ever, all by the Wonderpun folks, Paula and Diego, who I barely see once a year for five minutes but are really lovely and funny people. They are exquisite pun artists and regale us with fanzines solely dedicated to them, not to mention the constant stream Diego posts on Twitter. They also make assorted merch for Pokémon, Ace Attorney, Yakuza, Resident Evil... There's a ton, check them out yourselves. Here's their online shop. All the JJK stuff is from an artist that didn't include any kind of business card and now I can't send you to his social media. OTL The print and Geto charm are for a friend.

As if this were exonerating at all, I feel I should stress that the fanzine and all its extras were already paid for because I joined the crowdfunding campaign this summer.

I also picked up a cheap set of dice and Fire Emblem cipher cards because you know, it's been a long time since I spent any real money at a convention. Prices are inflated, you can buy everything off the internet nowadays, and I had left the Artist Alley pretty unscathed, so I knew I wasn't going to spend much more.

Then I found a retro videogames stand with Japanese imports. They had Vita games. Japanese otome Vita games.

THEY HAD THE ONE HAKOUKI GAME I'VE WANTED TO GET FOR 10 YEARS WHAT THE HELL

They also had Amnesia World for the same price and I thought about going back for it if I didn't spend a lot the following three days.

One shop had a bunch of YYH figures, including two I'd never seen of Hiei and Kurama that put together replicate the cover page of the Two Shots chapter, and sent a video to a friend who's a huge Hiei fan but couldn't make it to the con to ask if I should get it for her. She took three days to make a decision. More on this later.

After this, we found a place that sold vintage haori and I kind of fell in love at first sight with one. The sign said they were 30€ and up, but I have a vintage silk haori with some damage on the sleeves and that one was already 50€. I'd never seen one in good condition for less than 60€. Knowing that the price would be way out my budget, I asked anyway.

It was just 30€.

Excuse the shitty picture, but !!!! Those cranes!!! The lining!!!!!

And remember the lady who ran out of her stand to do my hair? This below was the result. 10/10 marketing tactic.

At this point I'm repeating over and over inside my head "This is fine" like the dog from the meme. I'm getting extra pay this month, no harm done, it's not like I spend money the rest of the year. This is it, I've already seen the entire venue, I'm immune to temptation, I'm probably not getting that second game. <-this is not foreshadowing

Before calling it a day, I asked my friends to try and find again the retro games shop to remember exactly where it was in case I wanted to go back, because the next days were going to be much busier and it's always difficult to move with so many people.

Turns out on the way there there was another import shop I had glossed over because it sold mostly trading cards and CDs, but I went to look at the table anyway because haha what's the harm you already know where this is going. (⊙x⊙;)

The harm was basically half the recent group discography of Quartet Night. ಥ_ಥ They were pretty cheap, but I painted over the price because I'm still embarrassed and pissed, why the hell did I have to look. I am now the not so proud owner of the Quartet Night single where they dressed the idols as bullfighters without shirts and I can't even be angry about it because the song was good. Look at this. The second hand embarrassment is killing me. Anyway! Not getting the game for sure.

The next two days passed without any further damages to my wallet, which were admittedly quickly forgotten as soon as I got tackled by the girl I totally don't have a crush on when she saw me dressed as Hancock and whose dinner I paid for only because she treated us to a lot of places when we visited her city this summer. That night, before the last day, I had to insist to my home-bound friend to make up her mind already because I couldn't be glued to the phone while wearing cosplay, pushing a wheelchair and socializing with people I only see twice a year.

I'd decided the first day I'd get the Kurama figure only if she told me to get her a Hiei as well. She sent me a text past 12 AM saying she wanted it. In the morning I receive a message from the friends I was arriving to the venue with every day saying that after three days they cannot fucking move and are tapped out. I cannot fucking move either because Hancock's shoes destroyed my feet, but I go anyway, as soon as I can, because I'm a woman on a mission to retrieve a friend's husbando.

I went straight to the shop before joining up with anybody else and the Hiei figure was gone from the display case, along with another Hiei, the only Kuwabara and one Kurama. Mission failed. I asked one of the sellers about the Kurama one and she told me all except the one on display were sold out, so there was no box, and it was for the best because I was able to store him inside my bag. Here he is. I'm jealous of his sweater.

After that, I joined my totally-not-a-crush for the rest of the morning and went to a panel where they gave us a bit of sake and Kobe beef while we waited for our other friends. The rest of the day went well, we saw a lot of people and said goodbye to everyone, and instead of going to the Korean BBQ place we had planned, the remaining four of us moved the dinner to the sandwich/pizza/crepe place across the street from our incapacitated friends.

I am now taking a vow of poverty until April.

#dressrosa blogging

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