#This started out as me trying out a new art program

[patriamrealm]

Today was a good day. Nobori kept his eye on the boy running around with his cloak while he hooked a cooking pot to to the upper support of the newly built yurt. The other wardens were busy with their own duties finalizing their work on the yurt outside. It had only been one week since Lian’s Warden ceremony. Per custom all the older wardens aided in creating the boy’s home in in the Heartwoods.

They were nearly done but it was his duty to both ensure the inside of the yurt had everything it needed in its proper place as well as keep the newest warden from going outside. He was not to see the painting the others were doing until they were finished. Pulling on the hanging metal he insured that it was not about to fall anytime soon. Once satisfied he settled down near the unlit hearth.

Grey eyes watched Lian spin about making the old damaged cloak flair. He couldn’t help a small crackling chuckle at how the boy was drowning in the fabric. Brown eyes snapped to him

“What? What’s so funny?” Lian asked and plopped down before him head slightly tilted with a grin.

“Oh nothing, just thinking about how only 5 years ago you were causing everyone so much trouble.” The boy gasped dramatically in false offense.

“I did not cause trouble!” He leaned back with his exclamation.

Nobori laughed loudly and took the hat from his own head to tug it down Lian’s head, happy with the laughter it got out of the 10 year old.

“Oh you were such a troublemaker, I seem to recall finding you out in freezing temperatures completely alone harassing the Pokémon. However, I am proud of how far you have come and I am excited to see what heights you reach next.” His voice undercurrent with a proud rolling chime.

Lian pulled the hat down further over his eyes and groaned, Nobori could see the tips of his ears turn a rosy red.

“You’re such a grandpa” and Nobori couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He couldn’t remember the age he must have died at, couldn’t even recall his own name still. Many assumed he had been an elder of 60 at the youngest and he didn’t know enough to refute it. He didn’t mind being called grandfather, all familial honorifics made his soul fire twist and burn warmer in his chest. Each time patching up the hole left behind from people he loved and lost but could not remember.

It reminded him that he not only had a community but a family. Reaching over he straightened the hat so it sat somewhat properly on Lian’s head, perhaps he should see about getting the child a hat of his own? But that was a thought for another day.

Palina chose that moment to poke her head in. A bright smile on the young woman’s face, paint splattered on her hands and face.

“Lian you can come out now, it’s time to claim your new space and duty” She stood aside as the boy jumped up and rushed out, the oversized cloak left behind in his rush. Nobori took his time, thanking Palina when she offered her assistance.

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting” he chimed happily while draping the worn clothing apparel over an arm. Palina nodded and hooked an arm around one of his to lead him out. Yes today was a very good day indeed.

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[crabsnpersimmons]

Y'ALL HAVE ME LIKE

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID

BUT Y'ALL HAVE BEEN SO SWEET

I'M SORRY IT'S TAKING ME SO LONG TO REPLY

I WANNA DRAW THINGS BACK

AND I WILL

after my exam tomorrow :')

[shay-creates]

Turmoil of Vengeance: A piece I made for the Secret Plotter of Dread Secrets.

[fisheito]

Do you... do you... draw professionally. Because you're just so good and you are inspiring me to keep trying! Manifest those mental images!! Learn to draw yakumo getting railed, and other Normal reasons to revitalize one's previous interest in drawing

u think i could draw professionally??! 😲🥺🥺 i am so flatter..... i think ur draws are so scrorchy (very enjoyable] so if i can help u have inspire 😭😭😭😭😭

omfg if u learn to draw yakumo getting railed i'll probably explode/implode/evaporate/change states of matter in a sudden, violent way

bc. i cannot do it. fun fact: when i read y'all's collab fic of dante's sex ed i felt the urge to draw 3 specific panels for it. but as i put the stylus to the screen, i realised that SEVERAL ppl would have to be naked for the drawings to be storycally accurate. so even tho they were comedy panels, my hand... it betrayed me. it was like trying to draw porn but i blink and suddenly everyone's in 14 levels of victorian extra-garment. F...H?OISTED BY MY OWN UNHORNY

so yes. pls. i would love to see more of your contributions. the very special contributions that only u can make 😂

[shinobicyrus]

I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.

Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.

We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.

Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.

Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?

As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.

He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.

He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.

Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.

Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?

(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)

(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)

(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)

(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)

(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)

I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Trying**

Based off of the following request where Y/N is desperate for Harry to breed her already!

Warnings: breeding kink, objectification (female to male), sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, breast play, dirty talk, cnc kink, free use kink, daddy kink

WC: 6.8K

When you met Harry it was the summer of the start of your masters program. You were brand new to town and had taken the recommendation of a few of the students from the previous cohort about some good, local spots you needed to visit. One of these places happened to be a brewery in the heart of the Arts District in Downtown LA, Styles’ Brewing Co.. You’d moved down to LA one month before the semester at USC started and you hadn’t really made friends yet so you decided to just go and check the place out. Worse case scenario you didn’t meet anyone cool and just enjoy the pleasure of your own company. It was a Tuesday evening when you’d strolled in. The sun was setting soon and despite the slight breeze, it was still quite hot so you were glad you’d decided on wearing a dress. And when you got up to the business, you smiled at the funky, little bar. The decor inside was like 70’s post modern theme, it instantly put a smile on your face. It was nice and cool inside and Al Green was playing over the speakers. There were a handful of people in there already, so you glanced around as you walked up to the register and looked up to the menu.

“Welcome in! If you have any questions about our selection, let me know.” The smooth British voice offered and your eyes glanced down and met the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever seen.

“Ummm, actually s’my first time here.” You explained and his smile widened, revealing his teeth, the way his two front teeth extended a bit lower than their neighbors gave him a boyish charm though he was clearly older than you. He looked really good though, he had to be like five or six years older.

“Well that’s great! I’m Harry.” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You said with a friendly smile.

“Well Y/N, are you a beer drinker?”

“Kinda…not really. Sorry.” You confessed a bit bashfully.

“That’s alright.” He chuckled, “Just seeing where you’re at with beer.” He assured you, “I know we have quite a large selection up there. So if you’re not sure where to start or what you might like, we can talk little bit more about your taste and I can give you a little flight of samples so that you can narrow down your options.” He offered and you were pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you!” You smiled, “That’d be great because I am a little out of my depth here. And honestly, I can pay.” You assured him. Just then someone else walked up behind you in the line and he looked past you.

“Hey, H!” One of the person’s behind you greeted him cheerfully and he smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

“Ummm, you can help them first since I’m still figuring it out.”

“That’s kind of you.” He smiled, “Have a seat at the bar and I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He instructed and you nodded and did just that. 

After a couple of minutes he was chatting with you again, asking about what you liked and disliked about beer. What kinds of flavor profiles you gravitated towards, and things of that nature before he pulled the samples for you. He talked you through each one, he even swapped two of them out upon receiving your feedback on the previous ones until finally you found the one. It was the “Sippin’ Pretty”, a guava and elderberry sour. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. When he realized that you were there alone he spent most of his time hanging around, checking in on you. It got a little busier around 8 o’clock, but you were on your second beer by then and just people watching as Harry and another person tended to the customers. Before you knew it you were having your third beer and feeling pretty tipsy. You were giggling at a story Harry was telling you about his friend’s two year old son and nearly knocked over your glass.

“Okay, I’m pretty fucked up.” You giggled again.

“Did you drive?” He asked.

“Yeah…I didn’t plan on being here for more than two hours.” You said and he smiled.

“Let’s get some food in you then. How do sweet potato fries sound?”

“Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You said and he chuckled. 

“Alright, I’m gonna put an order in.” He said before hurrying over to the POS system.

You did sober up quite a bit after eating and having a glass of water and you needed to go, you’d been taking a lot of time away from Harry. You flagged him down and he came over to you quickly.

“Thank you for the VIP treatment tonight, Harry. I didn’t know I needed that.” You smiled and he smiled back.

“I’m glad you had a nice visit. Hopefully one of many more?” He inquired.

“Definitely.” You assured with a blissful grin, “I should get out of your hair though, so can I get the bill?” You asked.

“You’re good, love.” He smiled and you pouted.

“Don’t do that. You’ve done so much already, the least I could do is pay.” You insisted, “Besides, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble by comping that much.” You added and he smiled.

“Well, I’m actually the owner so…” He responded smugly and you tutted.

“Well, I believe you’ve just lost your case.” You grinned.

“How’s that?” He asked, perplexed.

“You’re a small business owner, the backbone of the local economy! If the roles were reversed I know there is no way you wouldn’t insist on paying.” You said and he smiled. “Please, Harry.” You insisted.

“Fine. But I’m applying the 15% employee discount.” He said and you grinned as he headed off to the register without allowing you another word in edgewise. You hopped off your seat and went over to the register and paid, giving the 15% back in tip which made him tut as you giggled.

“Thank you, again!” You called as you walked to the door and he smiled and waved as you headed out.

********************

By the end of your first semester, you’d become a regular at the brewery. You had become pretty good friends with Harry. You’d learned that he was 34, so 12 years older than you were. You learned that he’d been engaged but that it ended nearly five years ago. He’d earned a degree in computer science and he’d made a pretty penny when he helped develop some AI program and had sold it and had made a large sum of money from that. So he moved down from the Silicone valley fours years ago to open up this place and it was almost an instant success. He was fucking cool. You had a huge crush on him. Not only was he handsome but he was sweet as can be. 

When he learned that you couldn’t afford to fly home for the holidays, he invited you to his and his friends’ holiday party. And well, on Christmas everything between the two of you changed. Thanks to a very eye-opening kiss under the mistletoe, if you could believe it. He dropped you off at home after the little get-together and as you were saying goodbye you kissed him again and that led to you two making out for half an hour before you finally pulled apart.

“Let me take you out.” He panted before kissing your cheek and you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed with excitement lighting up your eyes. You really liked him, you sincerely thought he didn’t think of you in that way. Particularly because of his age, because in terms of interests and tastes, you had plenty of things in common. Regardless, you were so relieved that he was also into you.

And after that first date, things quickly heated up between the two of you. Despite how great of a catch Harry was, he hadn’t really had tons of dating experience, he’d only had two long-term partners. One during his entire time in high school and the other after he moved to the U.S., the one who he had been engaged with. And they ended things when he resigned from the job in the Silicone Valley. You on the other hand had lots of flings and little things here and there. You were a little reckless with your heart, probably the hedonist in you. But when you and Harry started talking more in depth about where your relationship would go, you learned that he only dated someone when he felt that he could develop big feelings for the person. He was cautious about who he gave his time, affection, and heart to. The fact that he was the way he was - attentive, caring, mature, stable, and wise - well, you started to fall in love with him quickly. 

Your relationship with Harry became serious quite fast, but he insisted that you two wait until you graduated to make moves towards merging your lives even more. He proposed to you over dinner the night before your graduation with your parents and siblings there for it. A few weeks after graduation you moved into his house. The time you didn’t spend together or working, was spent planning the wedding. A year later, you two were married and just relishing in your new life together. 

….THREE YEARS LATER….

You and Harry had now been married for three extraordinary years. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but most of the time it was. By now, most of your friends were married too but the biggest difference was that they were already on the baby train. One of your good friends got married because she’d gotten pregnant and the other two had their first kids just a year apart from each other. At first, Harry had baby fever far more than you did but lately there was just something in the air that had you feeling absolutely feral for him. To put it more poetically, you had a need to breed. You were feeling horny every time you were around him. 

Maybe it was the weather that was finally heating up? Or the fact that along with that, Harry would wear more t-shirts at the brewery. You’d get to see him lugging big, heavy boxes of produce or crates of glassware to and from the kitchen and bar, meaning he was constantly showing off his strength. He was so smart and strong and capable, and he was the best husband and partner to you. He gave you everything you wanted and more! So you knew that he could give you the most beautiful babies in the world. And lately, the thought was just ever present. Everything about him had you swooning.

Even now, just the way he would try to reach his big hands into the glasses to dry them properly made your pussy flutter and swell with need. Why were his arms so fucking big? And why did the masskrug look so tiny in his hands? You swear you would soon start to drool if you had to watch him any longer.

“What?” He chuckled as you just watched him from the other side of the bar top.

“N-nothing. Just…watching you. And your…big hands. And big arms.” You smiled and his eyes flickered up to yours and he smirked as he recognized the lustful look in them.

“What about ‘em?”

“Nothing really…just, I don’t know, I’m suddenly very aware of how…strong you are. S’a little distracting.” You shrugged and he hummed.

“Distracting enough that you shouldn’t be the one doing the payroll?” He asked and you giggled.

“Babe, I was an art major…I never should’ve been doing your payroll to begin with.” You joked and he chuckled.

“That’s probably true.” He joked back with a playful little grin as he glanced back down at the glass he was drying.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” You asked.

“What, my love?” He asked without pulling his eyes from his task.

“I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby.” You said far too nonchalantly. So much so that in response all you heard was the shattering of glass as the masskrug fell to the ground. “Oh shit!” You gasped, “Are you alright?” You asked him and he glanced up at you with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, love. M’fine. Just…surprised me with that one.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll get the broom.” You said softly as you prepared to hop off of the stool.

“Hey! No, no, no…don’t scamper off just yet.” He called out, “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that.” He said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks heating up as the blood rushed up to your face.

“I was going to come back…”

“You want to have a baby?” He asked, bringing the topic back to that.

“I mean…yeah. Of course!” You shrugged.

“What brought this on?” He asked.

“Well…lately I’ve just been really…horny. But it’s more than that… it’s like…I can’t get enough of you. I just want more of you. More of us.” You said and he smiled, “I think that you’d be an amazing father and the idea of you, all handsome and rugged like you are, just caring after such a perfect and tiny little thing…I don’t know, it’s just been doing things to me lately.” You explained and he was smirking smugly at you. “Don’t make fun.” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“Of course not, my love.” He assured you, “I’m just glad you’ve finally come around.” He said and you rolled your eyes. Considering you were the young one here, you wanted to wait so that you could enjoy your marriage for a bit and have time to get your lives together before starting on a family. “But how do I know you’re not gonna change your mind? I know that you wanted to enjoy us for a while before we considered starting a family.”

“Well, it’s been three years…we’ve traveled, your business has grown, I’ve had my own exhibit like I wanted to…” you pointed out, “I mean, trying means just that, trying. It could take a few attempts and I’m ready to start if you’re…you know, also ready for that.” You said with a placid smile.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a boyish grin adorning his face. “Should we make an appointment with your doctor?”

“Mmm…I say we do it the old fashioned way.” You said with a suggestive tone and he chuckled, “Just…go at it every chance we get until we get lucky.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“Baby, as lovely and tempting as that sounds, I have work.” He reminded you and you grinned.

“Well based on the numbers I’m seeing here, you can afford to hire someone else.” You added and he chuckled.

“That’s how bad you want it?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly and he smiled.

“Alright, my love. Your wish is my command.” He assured and you smirked, “Damn it…” he mumbled.

“What?” You asked with a small frown.

“Now I’m hard.” He admitted and you grinned. “Though…the thought of getting you pregnant always makes me hard so…” he chuckled.

“Then do something about it.” You taunted and he chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“Right now?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Seize the moment.” You smiled.

“Baby…” he said, looking quite tortured and you just smiled at him.

“Come here.” You said and he came around the bar. You twirled around in the stool when he was before you, “I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago…” you informed enticingly.

“You did?” he asked as he leaned down and you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Mmhm.” You confirmed. “Please, fuck me.” You requested.

“Here?!” He chuckled nervously and you nodded.

“I’m your wife, yeah?” You asked and he nodded before pecking your lips again, “You vowed to have me for all the days of our life, did you not?” You asked with a soft and seductive tone.

“That not how it goes… but I did…” he hummed in amusement.

“Then have me. Anytime you want. Whenever, wherever we are until you do what we set out to do. I don’t even need to come. Just need you to come. Need you to come a lot inside of me.” You said in a low and sultry voice. He was nearly panting, his fingers digging into your thighs through the light fabric of your dress. “I love you. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded and next thing you knew your lips were meeting in a desperate and heated kiss as your hands shakily worked at the button and fly of his jeans. When you had them and his briefs low enough to let his erection spring free, he pushed your dress up and tore your underwear off before stuffing them into his pocket. “Get inside of me. Please!” You begged hungrily and he pulled you closer until his cock was sliding through your already hot and slippery folds.

“So fucking wet. Ready to get knocked up, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” You whispered and he kissed you again. “Do it, baby. Fuck me.” You panted. 

Without another warning he pushed against your entrance until your little hole stretched around his veiny, girthy cock. You gasped as he plunged deep inside of you on the first thrust, but you needed that. You needed him like this. Over and over, his cock rammed inside of you until you’d wince with how deep he was getting inside. It felt delicious. Your nails were digging into his big, bulging biceps as you moaned aloud without any care in the word. His deep, consistent grunts were perfectly timed with his thrusts, they made your head and tummy flutter with how deep they were. You were completely blissed out. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your walls were fluttering and squeezing his cock deliciously. He was fighting to hold his need to come back, but then again, that’s what you wanted from him; his cum flooding your insides. Painting your insides with everything he had to give until he gave you a baby. Not just a baby, his baby. A product of all of the love you shared for each other.

Everything about him was everything you’d ever wanted. He was everything to you and having more of him in this way was something that you couldn’t even comprehend, you just needed it. It was instinctual to have more with someone who was so embedded into your mind, heart, and soul. What more was there to this often sad and destructive life than to make love and create more beauty to add to it?

“Fuck…I’m gonna come.” He groaned as he started to rub his thumb over your clit in swift little circles. Maybe you didn’t need to come, but he wanted you to. He needed to feel you spasming around his cock as he filled you up. When he heard your breath catch he smiled, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” He panted and seconds later your legs were shaking around his hips as you thrust up to meet his deep and unforgiving plunges as you whimpered and whined as you came undone. Your sounds turned into weak little grunts that escaped your throat in perfect time with his thrusts until he was stopping deep inside of you. You could feel his cock twitching as he shot spurt after spurt of his sperm deep into you until he had nothing left to give. After he finished he kissed you deeply. “Did you mean that? Whenever I want?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, free use. I always want you, H.” You smiled, “Always need you.” You assured him as you caressed his face with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby. But if you ever want me to stop or aren’t in the mood just say…hmmm…”

“Sour.” You suggested with a dopey smile, “After the first beer you served me.” You said and he chuckled. You weren’t always all sentimental like that, but he loved when you were.

“Alright, my love. Sours is our safe word.” He agreed before kissing your lips quickly. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Jeremy gets in. S’almost his shift.” He reminded and you giggled and pulled him down down for another kiss.

“Maybe delete the footage from this time frame.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, but only after I save it…for memories, you know?” He said mischievously and you giggled. 

“I love you so much.” You hummed happily.

“I love you more, my love.” He whispered.

****************

After that first time at his brewery, there was hardly any stopping Harry. Like you’d asked before, he’d have you whenever he well pleased. It was far easier for him to picture you growing with his baby now. It didn’t matter to him that you were occupied, he’d just get your pants off or dress out of the way and plunge in and you were more than fine with that. It even happened a few times while you slept, you’d wake up with him hovering over you, sliding his cock between your spread legs. Much to his surprise, you were soaking wet about 80% of the time and when you weren’t it didn’t take much to have you dripping and begging for him to put it in. He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s sex or even names, he just wanted a baby with you and he’d be more than pleased regardless. Like now...

You were being stirred awake by Harry turning you on your back and gently prodding into your entrance. You groaned a bit as he tried to push in a bit but you weren't wet enough for his sizable cock yet.

"Just give me minute." you mumbled.

"I want you now." he said and then you felt a warm wad of spit land over your pussy before he smeared his erection all over it and then sunk in with more ease, "There we are..." he hummed in approval as he got about halfway. He sighed in relief as your warm and tight walls started to slick up around him quickly. "Had a very pleasant dream of you showing me a positive test. Woke up so fucking hard." he panted through his thrusts and then smirked when you got even more wet for him.

"Fuck, it feels so good inside you, baby." he sighed and you moaned when he ground into you.

"A little harder, daddy." you whispered, voice still rough from sleep. He hummed and gave it to you a bit harder, the soft smacks of your bodies meeting grew a little louder. And he gradually started increasing his force until your headboard was thumping against the wall and you whined out, "T-too hard!" you whimpered and he brought a thumb to your clit.

"You know what to do if it's too much, baby." he said comfortingly. He knew you liked to get whiny every now and again. "You say "sour", right?" he asked and you nodded. "Use your words, my love." he encoruaged.

"I know." you added, "Just...a little slower, please?" you requested and those puppy-dog eyes absolutely melted him to the core. His stern demeanor softened and a little smile appeared on his mouth as he stopped and then leaned down to kiss your lips quickly.

"Okay, baby. Sorry, got a little excited over that dream." He hummed against your lips. He then started thrusting again, undulating his hips in a way that got him right up against your g-spot. "Like that?" he asked and you whimpered as he started to grind a bit harder.

"Yes, daddy! Like that..." you keened and he groaned lowly as your walls started to flutter around him seconds later. He started to rub on your clit again until you started to tremble. You choked on a moan as your orgasm started to build far too much for you to keep inside. "Oh baby, I'm...I'm gonna come!" you gasped.

"Go on, baby. Let me feel your drenching my cock. Get you ready for my cum." he panted, "Ready for me to put a baby in that pretty body of yours." your eyes rolled back and your back arched until your body just froze and your walls started to spasm as your orgasm washed over you. The gorgeous flutters of pleasure bloomed from your tummy and rippled through your body, making your legs twitch and for your finger nails to dig into Harry's thick, muscular thighs.

"Yes, baby. Yes!" he groaned as his own pleasure built up to a point of no return. His steady rhythm faltered as he grunted through three deep thrust until he was holding your hips tightly as he started to shoot his sperm deep in you. You loved how he praised you for taking it all.

And when the height of it passed he only pulled out to turn you onto your side and then spooned you only to thrust back in. He lightly shivered from the sensitivity, but he wanted all of his cum to stay inside. You pulled one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of it before sighing happily.

"I'll always take care of you. You know that, right?" he asked and you nodded as you hummed, "You're everything to me." he said softly, "I already love you with everything in my being. Can't possibly imagine how much more it can grow for you once we have our baby." he said softly and you smiled.

"I think you'll love the baby the most." you whispered.

"I don't know...you're the one giving me the baby." he reasoned and you smiled. "But what I do know is that you're my whole life. I'm so fucking fortunate to have you to share this with. Love you." he hummed.

"Love you, H." you smiled.

"Want you to do something for me, baby." he added, "Gonna send you some stuff I was looking up earlier. Stuff to like prepare your body and increase your chances, you know? Give it a try?"

"Of course, baby." you agreed easily.

***************

On top of the things Harry had suggested to you, you had also been implementing your own measures to optimize your health enough to successfully conceive. You had made significant improvements to your diet and even started taking prenatal vitamins and teas that you hoped would help. And since Harry owned and worked at the brewery you asked him to please stop serving you alcohol, no matter how much you asked for it, so your taste-testing badge had been revoked. You were also getting more rest and even started exercising more with him. Incidentally, this was something that just made you more horny for him. Considering that exercise helped you produce endorphins you were in a far better mood and up for sex more than before. 

  Maybe it was a little indecorous of you, but you honestly enjoyed the dull ache that seemed to permanently reside between your legs as of late. You actually craved more of it, especially at times like these, when you watched him working out from across the gym while you just kept a moderate pace on the elliptical. He was making eye contact with you from the mirror with a subtle smile ignoring the other people who were very clearly ogling him as he did his deadlifts. You couldn’t blame them, Harry was a masterpiece of a human. He was tall, handsome, attractive, and good natured. The way his muscles tightened up as he worked through his routine made you hungry for him in sinful ways. So much so that you needed to go and fuck. Now.

You got off of the machine and went to grab a wipe to clean off the handles and buttons you’d touched before asking him to leave. He wouldn’t mind cutting his workout short, that’s what you’d be doing more of anyway if you really thought about it. You decided to gather your things from the locker in the bathroom and then head over to grab him. When you headed over to the free weights area you saw a girl trying to chat him up, he seemed a bit annoyed but was too polite to tell her to go away. It may have seemed he was fair game because he wasn’t wearing his wedding band right now (you always reminded him to take his ring off when he was lifting heavy because your wedding bands were made of gold, a soft metal, so it could easily get warped with the amount of weight he lifted), but he was all yours and you needed him now. His evident display of strength had you completely drenched in your underwear. You could feel the steady throb of your walls even as you walked over. You could see him glancing over to the cardio section through the mirror, probably searching  for you to help but you were just about to reach him.

“Baby!” You called out to him from a few feet away and he whipped around and his smile of relief made you smirk. He could see the hunger in your gaze from where he was. The girl that walked up to him looked mortified as she connected the dots before scurrying off. Harry quickly re-racked the weights he’d been using before setting the bar back in place and hurrying over to you. “I need you to get me home. Stat.” You said lowly as you walked through the gym and he chuckled.

“Alright, my love. Not a problem.” He hummed with a big, warm hand on your lower back.

In nearly twenty minutes you were carefully getting into the shower together, the foreplay was in how he talked to you and touched you as you got cleaned up. Everything was building up as he smoothed over your breasts with his soapy hands and talked about how big they’d get when he finally got you pregnant. Things like this that you never thought could rile you up were doing the job. You loved to see his big veiny hands playfully tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers while you ground back into his erection.

“God, you’re so fucking big.” You mumbled as he rutted his erect cock again your plump backside.

“I know. Almost too big for your pretty little cunt.” He responded and you nodded in agreement. “But you like that, don’t you?” You asked and you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.” You hummed, already feeling a little loopy.

“Turn around.” He said and you twirled around and looked up at him, “How do want it, my love?” He asked and you bit your lip as your mind started to wander and imagine all of the options you had. Then, you glanced over to the bench you used for shaving, “Wanna ride me?” He asked upon noticing where it was you had looked.

“Yeah, can I?”

“Of course.” He smirked.

And before you knew it you were sinking down onto his cock impatiently. You slightly hissed at the sting of the initial stretch but kept going, pushing through the slight discomfort. You loved the pain of the stretch as he tried to fit inside of you. You sometimes grew sad over the fact that it’d never feel like the first time you had sex again, you’d only been able to take half of him that first time and you’d been so tight around him that he came twice all over your pussy and tummy. Riding him was as close as you got to recreating that. You loved how full you felt when you rode him, how it felt like he was so big that he was penetrating up into your stomach, literally rearranging your guts. It made you breathless and cock drunk so quickly. He was holding you up a good amount because the bench wasn’t as big as it looked, so you were struggling and your knees were starting to hurt and you couldn’t touch his big, taut muscles like you hoped you could.

“Fuck this, lets get out.” You panted impatiently and he lifted you up like you were nothing, holding you to his body as he quickly shut the water off, shampoo and all still in your hair. You stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed. He just sat and you started grinding away at him. You pushed his chest back and he got the hint and laid back as you started to ride him a bit harder. 

“Put your arms behind your head for support.” You said and he did so.

“Like this?” He asked and you nodded quickly. His glorious arm muscles were on full display and you could see how even his lats were nice and toned.

“Flex for me.” You requested and he did and you groaned loudly. You just wanted to bite into his biceps.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy. So big and strong, always take such good care of me.” You panted as you rode him. Your hands roamed his chest and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tracing the dip between his pecs with your index fingers and then going between his abs like you were tracing through a little maze. You started grinding in a way that he could plunge against your g-spot and he moaned over you as he felt his tip up against your spot and his eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“Fuck, right there…I’m…I’m gonna come soon.” He warned and you smirked.

“So fast?” You teased and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing your body tight.

“You want my cum don’t you? So what does it matter?” He asked and you melted at his question. Normally you wouldn’t mind if he came soon, you didn’t necessarily need orgasms for sex to be worth it for you. What got you off was the vibe. His energy, being present and in tune with him, making each other feel good, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. But right now, you did want to come around him.

“I want to come.” You whined softly and he suddenly flipped you back to missionary and thrust deeper into you until you gasped and pinched your eyes closed for a second.

Harry knelt up to have a better range of motion and he started going deep and slow. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it was absolute bliss. Over and over his tip was colliding with that spot inside of you that ached and felt like ecstasy at the same time. He then slid one of his hands up your tummy until he was reaching for your breast. He groped and squeezed and felt at it in his hand. You reached for his arms and just caressed his arm. You traced up his fingers and then felt over his forearm, you were obsessed with how solid it was. Then, you worked your way up his bicep, squeezing his muscles, feeling his strength. Then, you lightly raked your nails from the butterfly inked above his abs all the way down to where your bodies were connected. His skin was littered in goosebumps and his movements stuttered.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly and you glanced up at him, “It’s too much, baby. I’m so close!” He warned again and you smirked. Just getting to be close and feel him like this was working you up to his level. Watching him be so affected by your feather light touches was doing you in. You tickled up his other arm and he shuddered as he squeezed over your breast harder than before and you intentionally squeezed your walls around his cock. You took the time to feel it all; how he felt inside of you, how his damp skin was getting warmer and warmer the closer he got to coming. How every time you bucked up with him, your clit would bump against his pelvis, that’s how close you were. It was pushing you to the edge, you were teetering on it! 

“Me too! I’m so close, daddy!” You moaned and he started going a bit faster and you moaned breathily, “Fuck, right there! Just like that, don’t stop!” You pleaded. He was locked in on this place until he felt your thighs starting to tremble around his hips. He lowered himself and kissed you deeply.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you, my love? Taking such good care of yourself so that you can have my baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, daddy!” You whined out.

“Fuck, I hope this is the one…” he groaned and you moaned again. “You’re squeezing so tight…shit, come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” He grunted through his hard thrusts and the tight coil of pleasure finally gave way and that tight feeling in your body started to come undone. Your hips thrusted against his without any concern for the pace he’d set as the pleasure just racked through you and wiped you out like a tidal wave. You could feeling it consuming ever nerve ending from the top of your head and down to your toes. You hugged him close to your body, letting your hands roam down his back and squeeze his ass, pushing him even deeper until he couldn’t go any further inside of you. 

“Please, put your baby in me! Come inside me, baby. Come inside me, breed me!” You whimpered and he groaned as he started to deliver hard, unforgiving thrusts as his sperm shot deep into you. The sounds coming from where your bodies were joined were absolutely filthy but you loved them. You loved that there was so much of his sperm that it made a squelchy mess for you that could be heard. You were twitchy and trembly as he filled you to the brim but that didn’t stop him from slipping out and getting on the ground to lick up your cunt. His tongue flicked at your clit until you were crying out in over stimulation as you came again. 

Your abdominal muscles were putting in work as your orgasm rippled through you, your spasming walls started to push out some of his sperm but he was not about to let any of it go to waste. 

“Nuh-uh, this cum is for you.” He mumbled lowly as his fingers slid down to about your perineum before he smeared them over your entrance carefully to get it back in you. Just knowing that the slight gape of your tight little hole was caused by his big cock made him want to fuck you all over again. He stretched you open a bit more and was able to see his cum stuffed inside of you, right to the brim. “Fuck, there’s so much of it.” He chuckled lowly as you twitched beneath him. He then laid back down and had you drape your legs over his just to keep you at an incline.

“Think we did it this time?” You asked and he smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

“Think so… but as much as I want to have a baby with you, I wouldn’t mind if it takes a little while longer. I love fucking you like this.” He chuckled his confession and you did as well. 

“This is not the position you want me in if you want this to take longer to accomplish.” You pointed out and he laughed a bit and then got up and leaned over you to kiss you slowly. You hugged him close and rubbed over his back soothingly. You wrapped your legs around him and trapped him against your body, koala style. He laughed at your silliness as he tried to pull back. “Not yet.” You pouted.

“Baby, we need to finish our shower.” He reminded. “Come on…I’ll fuck you again after. Really make it stick.” He said with a suggestive tone and you loosened your grip around him enough for him to pull back.

“I am obsessed with you.” You said and he smiled, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to.” You added softly and tenderly before arching up to kiss him deeply.

“As am I, my love. And I promise, we’re gonna keep trying as long as it takes.” He assured you. “And all through it I’m going to take such good care of you. I’ll keep you safe. S’my job, as your husband to do that. My favorite job in the world.” He smiled as he looked at you lovingly.

“I love you so much.” You hummed.

“Love you.” He whispered.

>> Next Part>>

Trying update ask! (WC: 3.7k)**

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[captainsophiestark]

Picture Perfect

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.

Word Count: 3,045

Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst

A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Something was wrong with my best friend.

I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.

Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.

"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's... nothing."

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."

He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"

"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."

He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."

I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."

I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.

"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."

I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.

"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."

Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.

*****************

Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.

I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.

I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.

I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.

"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"

"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."

The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"

"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."

Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."

Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.

"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.

"You'll see!"

He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.

This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.

"Well? What do you think?"

He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.

"What is all this?"

"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."

Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.

"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."

"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."

"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."

I shook my head. "That won't happen-"

"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.

"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."

I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."

"Please."

When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.

"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.

"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."

"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."

Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.

"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."

I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.

"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."

"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."

I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.

"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."

I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."

Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.

"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."

"And honesty you will get."

Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.

"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."

Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.

"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."

"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."

He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.

"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."

His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.

"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."

"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."

"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.

The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.

I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.

"Y/N... if anyone found out..."

I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."

Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.

"Are you sure-"

I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[okiedokrie]

Meet Me In Amsterdam

Summary: "Minghao finds himself under a mentorship program from one of the most brilliant artist in the contemporary circle, where he meets Y/N and bond with their journey through art, overcoming traumas, and hopeless romanticism of the life and love around them. But all things come to an end at some point, the mentorship program ends, and they both go back to their lives. But they do meet again to finish what they started; 'if there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam.'"

Characters/Pairing: Artist!Minghao x Artist!Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, some angst, fluff

AU/Trope Info: Non-idol AU!, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Religious themes, implication of past sexual assault, homophobia mention, some cursing, food mentions, smut warnings under the cut

Rating: 18+

A/N: this is for the @svthub 2024 world tour collab! Thanks to @whipped-for-kpop-fics and @hobeemin for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: oral (f receiving), sex in a church, unprotected sex, implied creampie

The air in Minghao's studio is dizzying. A broken exhaust and paint fumes don't really mix, and his open windows could only do so much. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Touching grass may solve his problem, but he doesn't feel like dealing with the morning dew on the grass.

He quickly closed his windows before packing all his belongings in his commuting bag, opting to rush to a recent exhibit that opened. Minghao knew very little about the artist, but a change of scenery might help quell his throbbing headache. 

Minghao took this opportunity to space out during the commute to the gallery, popping on his headphones and trying to ignore the touchy couples in the train car with him. He wonders what it'll feel like to find his person like them; Minghao only craves the warmth of another's arms.

He wonders what it'll feel like to fall for someone, to be comfortable with vulnerability and the trusting bond between two lovers. Ever the hopeless romantic, he'd love to love and be loved.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the intercom buzzed to life, announcing the arrival at Minghao’s stop. Adjusting the strap of his messenger bag, he pushed his way through the busy crowd to head out of the station. The walk to the gallery was calm and relatively quiet. This part of the city mostly had walking paths rather than roads, so it was really only bustling with people and the occasional bicycle. 

Arriving at the gallery, the pieces were gorgeous, as expected. This artist was well known in the contemporary circle, so it's no surprise that the gallery is almost busier than the outside. Minghao felt drawn to one piece in particular, the warm tones, swirling and melting into one another, blending into a flame-like flow; it was stationary yet moving.

He hears a chuckle behind him, only to see an older man, about mid-forties, smiling at him. “I see you enjoy this piece; you have great taste. What's your name, boy?” 

Minghao is a little flustered, but he introduces himself nonetheless. The man before him introduced himself as the artist and noticed Minghao's paint-stained hands before asking if he was an artist himself. Minghao confirmed the older man’s speculations, offering to show some of his work as photos on his phone. The older man was impressed by Minghao’s talent and potential, and he then mentioned that he had an apprenticeship program open, but it was in Amsterdam. 

Minghao agreed a little too enthusiastically, seeing as this man quite literally defined an era of art in a way nobody else has.

It was only a few weeks after that interaction, but Minghao found himself on a flight to Amsterdam.

Taking in the city's air, Minghao feels a sense of dread washing over him, and the hustle and bustle of a new city scares him a bit. Being alone in a foreign land wasn't why his nerves were all over the place; no, it was the fact that he felt this opportunity wasn't meant to be his.

Sure, his mentor got the opportunity to see his work before he accepted the offer, but still, he feels this mentorship program would've been more suited to someone more fitting.

Nonetheless, Minghao is here now. And he swears he'll make the most of the time he spends here.

Taking one of the many old trains out of the airport, the rumbling train rails helped ground him a little; the sound was new and familiar at the same time. He thought back to his small studio back home, wondering how well it'd hold up in the year he'd be gone.

Minghao is snapped out of his daydreams when the train arrives at his station. He lugs his luggage to what will be his living quarters for the rest of his time here. Wiping his palms over his sweats, he finally takes the time to haul his bags over the stairs to the small apartment that was provided to him. His mentor mentioned that he has a roommate, another artist in the program, so he doesn't let his stuff get too comfortable in the main room.

Instead, he randomly picks one of the rooms, hoping his roommate doesn't mind. If they did, it's not as if he's opposed to switching. 

He hums a simple melody while setting his bags to the side, still catching up to the jetlag and too tired to put anything away. He inspects the room, noting that it is a little dusty. He has to settle his sheets and wipe everything down before he can get too comfortable.

He thinks that heading out for brunch is a good idea, guessing that his roommate would most likely want to get situated in peace. He gets his wallet and phone and heads out to find somewhere to eat.

The streets weren't too busy. It was midday and the middle of the week, and most likely, people were still at their jobs. Still, they were full of people to the point that Minghao felt the pressure of needing to always be on the move. He constantly tried to go with the flow of the crowds while trying to find an establishment he could eat at, preferably something to quell his growing homesickness.

He stumbles across what seems to be a small business with very familiar-looking signs. Bingo! It's a Chinese restaurant! He thanks whatever force managed to lead him here before he enters the restaurant. The distinct smell of the classic spice mix calms his nerves, and his posture relaxes significantly. 

The man at the counter doesn't look up from his paper, pointing at a booth near the back where Minghao could set his stuff before ordering. The curt behavior of the man doesn't phase him; in fact, it comforts him. He sets his bag down before standing at the counter, reading over the signs that were both in Mandarin and English. He starts ordering his food in Mandarin, finally getting the man at the counter to notice him. He nods in understanding, taking his order diligently before yelling his order at the cook at the back.

He pays, nods at the man again, and gets situated at his table. Getting comfortable with the smell of the food cooking and the chatter of the people around him. He fiddles with his phone a little, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram to see what his friends are up to. Mingyu got another modeling gig, Jungkook with his new single, and Dokyeom got to play Orpheus in Hadestown. 

Soon enough, he doesn't realize how much time has passed, only noticing that his food was ready when the waitress hurriedly slides his food onto the table and takes his table number. Mumbling thanks, which he believes she ignores, Minghao starts to eat his food.

This is so good, actually; I need to post this to my story.

Minghao took a picture of his food. The digital camera shutter almost distracted him from the sound of someone bumping into the table next to him. 

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” A feminine voice said, frantically apologizing to the patron at said table, holding her hip. She desperately tried to wipe up anything that was spilled, apologizing profusely. Minghao got up from his table and offered to help her, wiping up the mess with her like the gentleman he was. Once the table was free from any spills, she apologized again to the person at the table and Minghao for troubling him.

“It’s fine; accidents happen all the time. Just be more mindful next time.” He says calmly, returning to his booth before a smaller hand grabs his arm. 

“Uh, I can't find a place to sit. Would you mind sharing a table with me?” she asked shyly but politely. Minghao shakes his head no. Offering her a polite smile as they walk back to their now shared table, she leaves her items in his care before going to order her food.

Minghao finally gets to enjoy the food he ordered. The decadent aroma was mouth-watering, and most importantly, it reminded him of home. It helps warm him up, literally and figuratively. He chews slowly, savoring the flavors of his food as usual. He'd always been a slow eater, slow enough for the lady he shares a table with to get her food and finish eating with him.

They both get up from their table with a curt nod of acknowledgment. Thinking this would be the last time they'd ever interact, Minghao didn't bother introducing himself. And neither does she. 

Yet, Minghao can't seem to shake the feeling of disappointment once he leaves her.

Minghao finally arrives at his apartment, ready to settle down after a long day of exploring the city and taking photos of places that inspire him. He closes the door, running a hand through his hair to look around the living room. 

He nearly dropped his camera when he saw the girl from the restaurant staring back at him, and he almost dropped the tray of paints from the shock.

“What are you doing here?!” She asked, surprised and on alert. Minghao could only guess what emotions she was going through at that moment. A random man she met once is suddenly in her apartment. Oh dear.

Minghao starts to feel panic settle into him, too. Both of them look like deer in headlights, trying to make sense of the situation. 

“Oh- uh- fuck, I live here!” Minghao says frantically, holding both his hands up in a show of innocence, showing his copy of the keys to their apartment.

Her posture immediately relaxed a little, “Oh uh, so, you're my roommate? I'm Y/n, by the way.” She says, still a little weary of him. He doesn't blame her; he did come in unannounced.

“It's nice to meet you again, I mean. I'm Minghao. Let's try to get along for this mentorship program, yeah?” He says, scratching the back of his head. “I'm gonna go head to bed; I'm exhausted from all the traveling, so uh, yeah.”

Minghao hoped his exit wasn't too awkward. Maybe it was, but he was too tired to deal with the intricacies of small talk. He changed his sheets quickly, throwing the old sheets into the wash before doing his nightly routine. He crashed into his new, cool sheets and drifted off into dreamland. 

It was the next morning, and the warmth of the sunlight was seeping in through the cracks between the curtains. He blinks away the sleep from his eyes, rubbing his face into his palms. He sits up and shakes his head to fight off the rest of his fatigue. He was always a morning person, but the jetlag is making it a bit too difficult for him to uphold that. 

His morning routine was simple: shower, get dressed, make-up and hair, breakfast, and out. He rarely breaks from this simple pattern, which consistently makes life easier for him. So it came as a surprise to him that he didn't have to make breakfast this time since his roommate kindly left a portion for him. 

He thinks this is such a nice gesture to leave for the guy who scared her half to death yesterday. Maybe this was a sort of peace offering to make getting along easier? Either way, he won't complain—it's just another thing to make his life a little easier.

His roommate is nowhere to be seen, most likely already on his way to the studio to meet their mentor. So Minghao also leaves the apartment, making sure to lock the door on his way out. He pops his headphones on, listening to his favorite commute playlist with a lightness in his step, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

The train ride to the studio was calm; the morning train was much less busy than the afternoon one he took when he arrived, so he got the opportunity to sit down and enjoy the book he recently got. It was a story about two soulmates finding each other in the middle of a city that was new to both of them; he thinks that maybe he's starting to lean into the hopeless romantic stereotype that his friends would always compare him to, which, he could never beat the allegations. 

His mind drifts to his art, and he describes how the romanticization of life became a heavy inspiration for his work. Minghao loves the strokes of color on the canvas as much as he loves life, and his passion for existence weaves itself between the fibers of his canvas.

After being snapped out of his daydreams by the conductor, he feels a sense of deja vu; he finds himself in his head constantly these days. He is always such a dreamer.

The doors of the train open with a mechanical hiss, old rails squeaking under the friction. He thinks the train still needs to go through the desperately needed maintenance. Same train, same. He thought to himself, stuffing his book back into his back with a huff.

Minghao takes in the scenery around him; this part of the city is much less busy than where his apartment was, so he could finally appreciate the city's beauty without the pressure of constantly having to be on the move.

His mentor's building comes into view. It is an older building; the exterior has long since been weathered, but history still makes it gorgeous. He noticed that buildings, most of them having yet to be touched since they were first built, added a charm to an otherwise monotonous city.

He pushes in the door, noting that his only option for getting to the studio is a set of ancient, creaky wooden steps. Minghao is lightheaded from looking at the flight of stairs, so he doesn't bother counting how many floors he has to climb just to get to his mentor. 

I have to climb this every day. I don't need to bother with leg day here. He thought to himself, already making the long trek up the stairs. 

It wasn’t that long—about 5 minutes of walking time—but it felt like an eternity to him. Walking was no issue; walking upstairs? Torture. The first treadmill was a step design, so it may not be an exaggeration. 

Minghao finally reaches the top of the stairwell, pausing to catch his breath in an attempt to look presentable to his mentor and possibly his roommate. He stands by the door for a while, mentally preparing himself for the first day of the program. He arrives earlier than the agreed-upon time, so he's not in a rush to make his presence known.

He takes his water bottle out of his bag, puts cool water in it, and helps his poor self finally calm down from his mini workout. He curses whoever designed this stairwell. A five-story building should have an elevator, and arguing that it doesn't need one feels like a hate crime.

He stops himself before arguing with fictitious architects, who are probably long gone, about how old the building looks. Anyway, he finally has a hand on the doorknob to the studio; taking a deep breath one last time, he twists the knob and pushes the door open, the old wood creaking in protest from the force of him opening it. He cringes internally, the squeak passing straight through his skull, making him want to grind his teeth in annoyance.

Still, he doesn’t show his disdain for this geriatric building on his face since his mentor and roommate both whip their heads around to see him at the doorway. Suddenly, having two sets of eyes on you doesn't help the nerves. 

He offers a polite smile, successfully fighting his grimace with a more pleasant expression. Both his mentor and roommate smile back. He noticed his mentor was a lot more relaxed than when he first met him, which makes sense. He is where he's most comfortable—in his very own studio.

Minghao feels the same about his tiny studio back home. He steps further into the bright studio, closing the door behind him. The studio's top floor and many large windows bring loads of natural light, making it feel more comfortable and inviting. Couple that with the fact that it's in a relatively quiet part of the city, and he feels as if his mentor really put thought into every detail of his permanent studio.

Minghao wonders when he will be able to get the studio of his dreams in his art career, but for now, he admires the studio. His mentor greets him and urges him to explore and get acquainted with the space. Since he'll be spending most of his time here in Amsterdam. Minghao nods, dropping his bag on the cubbies near the door and carefully walking around the studio, avoiding the items and canvases scattered around the floor. His mentor seemed to have an organized chaos mindset, seemingly not bothered by the mess or the health hazard tripping on any of these might cause.

He finds it amusing how much of his mentor he finds out about just from looking around his workspace. He has a husband, married young, it seems. He has twin girls, who he can only assume are grown now. He used to have a dog, a poodle named ‘Cloud’ despite being a black poodle. He made prints of older paintings before sending them off to an auction for fundraisers. He remembers those fundraisers very fondly, it seems. 

Minghao also finds the bathroom and takes note of its location for future use; he’s definitely going to use that. He joins his mentor and roommate by the window, then takes the time to drink their morning coffee and watch the birds. His mentor offers him coffee, but Minghao asks if he has tea. His mentor confirms that he does and points toward his pantry, which is just a wooden cubby that he appropriated to be a pantry after he got tired of getting his snacks off the floor, sighting back pains.

Minghao calmly prepares his tea, passively listening to the conversation between his mentor and roommate. They seem to get along well. Maybe his mentor has some fondness for her because she reminds him of his daughters. He could only guess, though.

Minghao finishes making his tea and finally joins them by the window. “Are you guys birdwatching?” he asks, joining in the conversation. 

“Yes! Mr. Jones was talking about how his youngest loved visiting his studio just to view the birds.” His roommate answers, his mentor confirming it. Though he does mention that she doesn’t visit as often—after all, she has a family of her own now—when she visits, she brings his grandchildren with her, which makes the old man happy. 

He adopted his twin girls pretty early in life, seeing them as inspiration for most of his work. The way his mentor talks about his family and life with so much pride makes Minghao think about his future. He wonders if he’ll ever be as proud of his life as his mentor is, but considering he’ll be learning everything this man can offer, he’s pretty confident about that, at least.

After finishing their morning drinks, his mentor started his first assignment for them, one of many he’d assign throughout the program. His mentor was a patient and calm man. His instruction and tips for injecting emotion into your piece were very cohesive; it was almost like he got it down to a science. His enthusiasm and passion for his work were truly remarkable, and getting to witness it and learn from him felt surreal. 

Minghao feels proud of having the opportunity to have him as a mentor. At the end of the day, instead of feeling exhausted, he's excited to learn more from him tomorrow. 

You and Minghao are heading home together after a long day with your mentor, walking silently through the streets; you think that maybe he just doesn't like you, seeing how he practically jumps at every accidental graze of your hands with each other.

You don't really blame him either; your first impression wasn't exactly the greatest, seeing as someone cussed you out in the middle of a Chinese restaurant. That impression was a strong one, but unfortunately, not a good one.

Minghao and you shuffle into the same train car, getting pressed together as a consequence of rush hour. You try not to think about what your roommate, who is basically still a stranger to you, feels like. He's warm, and you can definitely feel that he is in shape. You definitely try not to think about how tall he is or how handsome he is.

He's so polite, too, and very gentlemanly. He's always conscious of his movement and language around you, protecting you from being squeezed in this tiny train car without him even noticing. It was basically second nature to him.

Oh, you're never going to survive with this man for a year; you're definitely not going to stay sane with him living with you. Your mind starts reeling, cursing whatever deity thought it was funny to send over a walking wet dream of a roommate to your sex-deprived self. 

You'd hope Minghao doesn't notice how you fought for your life, trying to have decent thoughts. You felt extremely guilty for thinking of him as such, he's just minding his business, and you're acting like some horny teenager. You hope you don't offend him with how much you flinch in every interaction with him. 

The last thing you'd want is for him to think he was the problem.

Luckily for you, Minghao always seemed to be in his head most of the time, mindlessly picking at the stitching of his shirt and spacing out, it seems. At least you don't have to worry about him secretly being a mind-reader. The chances are low, but they're never zero. 

You also take this as an opportunity to start spacing out, looking out the window to watch the buildings and trees pass by quickly, enjoying the golden glow of the setting sun over the city. This scene makes you feel bittersweet, as if another day has passed. 

You wanted nothing more than to crash in your bed and sleep until the next morning, but for now, in the middle of this train car, you had to be vigilant of your surroundings. Not just because you're a newbie to this place but because you absolutely cannot get so distracted that you start to lean into your roommate like some deranged weirdo subconsciously. 

The train conductor announcing your stop seemed to snap both you and Minghao out of your daydreams. “Could I hold onto you? I don't wanna get swept up in this crowd,” you asked politely, unable to meet his eyes.

“Uh, sure, hold on.” He said, adjusting his messenger bag so it doesn't block your reach of his arm.

Minghao navigates the flowing crowd with a form of familiarity. It surprised you how well he managed to adjust to the movement of such a busy city. Then again, he could have already come from a much busier city than Amsterdam. Still, you need to learn more about him to make assumptions.

Minghao weaves the two of you through the crowds and out of the station, successfully reaching fresh air once you make it to a calmer sidewalk that was already near your apartment. You wanted to ask him so many questions. You realistically had a little over a year to do so, yet you know how quickly a year actually goes by, so you wanted to work quickly, but not too quickly, that you scare the poor man away.

Arriving at your apartment, Minghao fishes his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door, opens it, and gestures for you to enter first. You say a small ‘thank you’ before entering, taking your shoes off at the entrance and hanging up your coat.

Minghao follows you after you hear the door click behind you. The shuffling of his items as they are hung indicates that he is settling down for the day.

“Hey, Minghao?” You start, wanting to lead a conversation to eliminate the awkwardness between you and your roommate; he hums, fully turning his body to you as if to signal that he is listening. “I just wanted to know what you thought of Mr. Jones. You know, not as a mentor, but as a person.” You asked, thinking it was a safe place to start getting to know him.

He thinks about it momentarily, “I can't say right now; I've only ever known him as a leading force in the contemporary circle, but other than that? Not much. Judging from his relationship with his daughters, he seems like a good father and good husband, as he still spoke about his husband fondly and was pleasant to be around. But other than that, I don't know.” He shrugged, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don't know,” You answer truthfully, “I like him a lot; he reminds me of my dad somewhat, you know, except maybe less of a religious nut.” You joke, gauging to see Minghao's reaction to it; luckily for you, Minghao finds it funny. Offering a restrained pfft- at your quip.

“Yeah, I get that; my dad was the same too. But I like him a lot less than Mr. Jones.” He said through laughter, running his hands through his hair. “I'll go take a shower; see you around, Y/n.” 

And with that, he disappears into his en-suite. 

You celebrate the tiny progress you made with your roommate, and you get to exchange words with him that aren't just common pleasantries. This motivates you to fan the spark of this new friendship, and maybe more, if you play your cards right.

It's too early to say you liked him, but he is objectively very attractive. So you can't really blame yourself for ogling at him. Respectfully, of course.

You also prepare for your night routine, opting to go through your entire skincare routine for the first time in forever after showering. You put on your best pajamas and tuck yourself into bed, dreaming of the day your hot roommate sees you how you want him to.

Kidding, not really.

Minghao has yet to learn what he's doing.

He'd been staring blankly at his canvas for what seemed like a solid 20 minutes, these inner thoughts fighting for dominance and splattering their metaphorical blood all over the pristine canvas.

He wanted to paint something so badly, but alas, getting struck with a severe art block on the second day of his mentorship felt like a sick joke from fate. His mentor watches over their shoulders, monitoring their progress. He seemed to notice Minghao's growing frustration from being stuck, “I think you should take a break, son. You should enjoy some tea by the window and clear your mind to make room for new ideas.” he said gently with a hand on Minghao’s shoulder.

Minghao agrees with him, finally setting his brush down to make his tea as usual before getting comfortable on one of the chairs by the window. He watches the trees sway in the wind, the birds playing on a random rooftop, and the clouds drifting slowly. All of these help calm his racing mind, which is preoccupied with so many things to think about that he doesn't have room to think about new ideas.

Minghao has a nasty habit of overthinking and holding onto ideas that no longer serve him a purpose. He thinks back to the first time he did this, the day he decided to become an artist. He's always known that he wanted to be an artist. He was eight at the time, telling his parents about his dreams for the future. 

Unfortunately, they disapproved of such plans. The first thought Minghao ever held onto was, “You need to aspire to get a real job, not just some useless skill that will leave you with no money.”

The second thought Minghao held onto happened at around the age of 17, just before graduating high school. He decided not to go to college, seeing that he still held out hope that he could become a great artist one day. He wanted to prioritize honing his skills, and his parents, once again, didn't approve of that.

That was the first time he ever felt fear from his parents. Before, he was only met with stern lecturing and maybe being grounded, but he never saw his dad that angry before or ever since. Since that day, Minghao has held onto the following: “If you're going to choose to throw your life away, then so be it. Just don't come crawling back here when you end up on the streets!”

Minghao doesn't want to recall the last thought he held onto; the memory is still fresh and feels like a weapon being used against him. He wished it didn't turn out that way, but it did. And there's nothing he could do to change the facts.

Minghao savors the flavors of his tea before finally trying his best to get rid of all those thoughts he holds onto. He's far away from his parents, far away from the people who could hurt him, and far away from the past.

He finally stops overthinking as soon as he sets his cup down, wiping off his palms on his pants before joining his roommate and mentor again. His head was finally free of any troubles he might've had. But he knows he's never truly free, only temporarily setting it aside to focus on his current goals.

He feels a sense of pride while he is painting this time. Strokes of vibrant color dance across the weaving of the canvas, and his brush glides smoothly and freely across it, finding a path of its own, making its mark like it was always meant to do.

In a way, it was freeing to paint without the pressure of making it look ‘good’, Minghao only had to focus on laying a color down the way it wanted to lay, and this show of emotion sparked a flame of determination in Minghao that he thought he lost so long ago.

Minghao finally sees the colors for what they are again, and in a way, he starts falling in love with creating again. His joy is evident on his face, and the controlled strokes slowly turn into free ones with every passing moment. 

He looks away from his canvas once to look at you, and he smiles the biggest smile you've ever seen on him. And you realize his smile is contagious, absolutely stunning in a way you've never felt before.

That smile was detrimental to your poor little heart, your small crush on him only worsening. You think it's a bit unfair that the universe had to dangle such a gorgeous specimen in front of you. You didn't even have an idea if he was single or not. He could have a wife and kids back home and you'd be none the wiser.

Still, you enjoy his company while you can. After all, it's not like you applied for this mentorship just to mingle. You were here to learn under a great artist, and to gain the experiences necessary to advance your career and skill.

Having a hot roommate is a nice touch, though.

“Hey Minghao?” You ask from the living room, looking up from your book to look at him in your tiny kitchen. 

“Yeah?” He replied, not looking up from the stove. It was the weekend, and Minghao offered to make dinner as you’ve been making breakfast for the past few days.

“Are you in a relationship? If you don’t mind me asking.” You asked, the question has been bugging you for a while now, ever since you realized your tiny crush. You’d feel incredibly guilty if he was in a relationship and you tried shooting your shot with him.

“No. But why do you ask?” He said simply, focusing more of his attention to not burning the food. Stir-frying the noodles with familiarity.

“Nothing, I just thought about it.” You paused, “We’re friends, right?” You finished with a question, thinking that maybe your line of questioning might be too much for someone who doesn’t even consider you more than a roommate.

“Of course. I like your company, I don’t have a reason to try and alienate you.” He said, now with more focus on you as he turned the fire of the stove down. Plating your food in one of the plates your apartment came with.

“Cool. We’re cool.” You said a little awkwardly, thinking that maybe your questioning was a bit too on the nose. Even if he wasn’t a mind-reader, he’ll surely be able to tell that you’re interested in him just from your weird line of questioning in recent days. Surely Minghao isn’t dense.

Minghao called you over to your dining room table, saying that dinner was already served. You rise from your comfortable position on the couch, making your way over to the tiny table in the space between the living room and kitchen.

“I hope you like the food, it's something I always used to make in college. It was one of the few luxuries I could afford, but it’s still very delicious,” he said, serving you a portion before taking some for himself.

“Thank you for making dinner. This looks amazing, I’m honored to try it.” You said, taking in the sight of the food that Minghao made with care. Minghao feels a sense of pride from your praise, sure, he’s not the best cook, but he’s definitely proud of the progress he made in recent years. 

Cooking was one of the first skills Minghao had to learn when he got kicked out of his parents’ place. Having focused all his energy on studying before, he only really had the time to learn how to take care of himself once he was on his own.

Watching you eat his food enthusiastically made Minghao unexpectedly happy. Sharing something he was proud of is often how he tries to get close to people, the little piece of vulnerability made him feel closer to them, like offering a piece of himself to them.

To you, this may have felt like a simple dinner, a meal between two friends in the comfort of their own home. But to Minghao, this was him accepting you into his space. Finally being comfortable enough to associate you to a dish he holds almost sacred.

The days easily turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before you knew it, it's already six months into your mentorship program. The days began to blur into each other, the most interesting thing that happened in the six months was your budding relationship with your roommate, whom you found out to be as much of a hopeless romantic as you are.

Your weekdays were spent at the studio, diligently working under your mentor and improving your art. While your weekdays were spent unwinding and spending time with your new friend. Minghao's taste in movies doesn't differ much from yours, opting to watch romantic movies with happy endings. 

It was during one of these movie nights that Minghao asked you a question, “Do you believe in true love? ���The one’, so to speak. Someone that is a perfect fit for you as you are to them.”

You think about this question for a bit, “Yeah, I do. It's a little silly to ask for perfection, but if someone is perfect to you, I think that's pretty plausible. Though, I do think true love is more of a choice than just aimlessly searching for them, you know?” You answered carefully, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

“I see,” Minghao started, “do you have an idea what your ‘one’ might be like?” He asked, this time a little more determined to get a more pointed answer from you.

“Not necessarily, but I already have a feeling that I know them already.” You said, relaxing and leaning back onto the couch, “Or, at least I hope I do. And I hope they see me like that too.” You sighed, wishful thinking taking over you again.

Over time, your little crush on Minghao had grown into a genuine romantic interest, especially since learning that he was single a few weeks ago, you started to see him in a different light. Almost as if the confirmation of his availability gave your subconscious the green light to start thirsting over him like a horny teenager.

It also didn’t help that he got comfortable enough to walk around the house shirtless, or worse, with just a towel loosely around his hips, sitting low as he’s fresh out of the shower. This put you in a loop, almost all thoughts being occupied by him in a sick and twisted way.

Some days, you convince yourself that Minghao does this on purpose, trying to kill you in the reflection of the light from his sweet, wet abs.

“Y/n?” He said, breathless. With a whiny tone in his naturally airy voice. 

“Hao? You’re back from your run?” You ask from the kitchen. Trying not to think about how delicious his voice sounded.

“Yeah, I picked up some bread on the way back. Thought it’s go well with the soup you’re making.” He replied as he placed a paper bag of fresh bread on the counter. You turn away from the stove to check out the selection he brought back.

“Hm, you got good taste. I didn’t expect any less.” You say with a proud smile, Minghao’s chest fills with a sense of pride as well. It was always validating to hear from someone else that they trusted your judgment.

The two of you had the day off today, your mentor visiting his daughters somewhere on the other side of the country. Giving the two of you free reign to settle chores that you haven’t been keeping up with.

Minghao offers to help you set the table, but you tell him to take a shower first. Letting that sweat dry on him might make him sick. Or worse, sticky.

He laughs that off, “Oh please, I think you’d want that.” He said suggestively. 

That was a new development too. Minghao is getting bolder with his jokes. His jokes were always tasteful, never trying to push your boundaries. But sometimes you wish he did, just so you’d have the excuse to tell him how much you wanted him.

But for now, with Minghao not showing any interest in acting upon his suggestive jokes, you swallow down the urge to jump his bones. For now, at least.

Your mentor returned from his family visit the next day, with an assignment for both of you. 

Sitting in the studio as usual, your mentor explains what your assignment entails, and how it’ll most likely span the rest of your time here in Amsterdam. He took it upon himself to assign it as a final project for the two of you, finishing this would finish their apprenticeship.

“A local cathedral reached out to me looking for my services. They wanted a mural painted for the interior because it started to look a little too clean after renovations. I think this would be a good opportunity for the two of you to show me what you’ve learned. I give you half a year to finish it, and then, you’ll be done with your mentorship.” He said, voice wispy like a proud father recalling the time when his children were just small, not looking at them, all grown up, he can’t help but tear up.

You and Minghao look at each other, unable to fathom this amazing opportunity that has presented itself to you. You and Minghao eagerly accept the offer, excitedly heading out to check out the said church so you two can plan out what to do for the mural.

The people attending the church are already briefed on the situation, happily showing you around their shiny new church, happy to find new artists to commission for this project. You and Minghao take photos of the interior, wanting to plan around the implements and fixtures, to give everything a cohesive look.

You and Minghao do this for hours walking around the city to look for inspiration along the way, taking in all the sights you didn’t have the chance to take in before. The city was filled with inspiration, ideas flowed out the both of you like a river, and it was so easy to find passion for this project. With a giant canvas and free reign to paint whatever, you and Minghao felt like kids at a candy store.

But suddenly, the sky started to grumble, clouds darkening in a tell-tale way. You hadn’t anticipated the rain, so you both scramble to find shelter as the rain starts to pour. Taking shelter under the awning of an abandoned shop, you both watch as the rain pools and puddles around you. You turn to Minghao, he was a little damp but relatively dry, water dripping from his hair, soaking into his clothes. His mouth was slightly parted from panting, the unexpected run knocked the wind out of both of you.

 At that moment, Minghao looked delectable.

“Hao?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He only smiles at your question, leaning down to softly press his lips to yours. He had an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, pressing his body to yours. You can feel the warmth of his skin radiating under his clothes, warming you up from the chill of the rain. 

You felt a little light-headed, not just from the lack of air, but because you didn’t expect a random blurt of your desire would lead to Minghao kissing you breathlessly. Not that you’re complaining, not at all, in fact, this made you want him more, softly moaning against his lips before pulling away, remembering that you’re in public. 

“Oh, wow, um.” You start, heads still spinning from the dizzying kiss Minghao had pulled you into. 

He just laughed his signature laugh, joy coursing through his veins. How could he not be happy? An amazing opportunity to advance his career, getting to spend the day in the city with someone he cares deeply for, and getting to kiss her in the rain? Oh, he’s weak in the knees.

This day was perfect, you were perfect. Minghao couldn’t ask for anything more.

You and Minghao started the mural for the cathedral, buzzing with excitement for your first big project, as well as your budding romantic relationship with him. The two of you work on opposite ends of the mural, working to meet each other halfway, and taking the time to get the details down before moving on to the next section. 

In a way, this was reminiscent of how you and Minghao are taking the steps to make this relationship work. Though unlikely that you’d meet like this, you still did, and you’d like to believe it was fate. Both of you agreed not to put a label on it just yet, just enjoying each other's company, and exploring the possibilities of this new romance.

You sneak glances at him every so often, his face scrunched in concentration, focusing on perfecting the sections of the mural he assigned himself to. And sometimes, when he looks back at you, his face instantly relaxes and glows. You love how expressive his face is, almost as if you could tell what he was thinking about at any point. It comforts you how open he is, knowing that he looks at you with genuine affection and adoration. It's fun, it's freeing to feel this way about someone who feels just as strongly.

The two of you worked on the mural until lunch when the two of you decided to take a short break, “Maybe I’ll take this opportunity to take you out on a proper date.” He said cheekily, offering his arm for you to hold.

“Oh, that’d be great. We keep passing by this one restaurant that I’ve been dying to try.” It was an open-concept place, clean and modern but it didn't give off “steak dinner” vibes, it just seemed like a nice sit-down place to have lunch or brunch, if you’re of the local housewife type.

Asking the waitress at the front for a table for two, the two of you were promptly seated at a table facing the street, offering the both of you the menu. Apparently, the menu changes seasonally, this time they offered a variety of vegan dishes, which intrigued you. You never realized vegetables could be cooked in so many different ways.

Your food was served, and the conversation between you and Minghao flowed like free orange juice refills. You both enjoy your lunch, more than you usually do, you don’t know if the food was actually good, or if the company just made it better, but either way, you don’t think you could enjoy a meal without Minghao anymore.

He’s just so charming, kind, and funny. So, so funny. The tables around you started to look at you two funny for all the giggles coming from your table specifically. The restaurant being open-air doesn’t even help to dampen the sounds of your joy, even the hustle and bustle of the street fade to the background with him. It’s just you, and Minghao, and the delicious veggies the two of you decided to have for lunch.

Lunch was over before you realized it. Minghao flags down the waitress, asking for the bill and paying for it himself, much to your protests. Yet, those fall on deaf ears as he winks at you. Offering his arm for you to take again before walking back to the cathedral to continue working on your mural.

The two of you continue to act like love-struck fools, much to the church staff’s chagrin, but it's not like either of you cared, you enjoy his company, and you, his. You haven’t brought up the kiss from before, but you wanted to, mainly to ask him for another one. 

Minghao really wasn’t the type for much skinship, but it’s not as if he’s opposed to it. If you asked, he’d comply. He’s willing to do many things for you, or with you. Minghao thinks it’s too early to call it love, definitely, but it’s really really close to it.

He adores you to no end, no words could describe how much you became an important part of his life in just a few short months. And getting to work with you on this? He almost couldn’t believe it.

Growing up, he always thought love like this only happened in movies or books. But he’s living it right now. He’s living in Europe, doing what he loves the most, and finding an unexpected light in his life. Maybe life does have things worth worrying about. 

Still, ever present in Minghao’s thoughts, is the sinking feeling of anxiety. It’s ugly, rearing its head whenever it can. The last time he felt this strongly about something, it nearly broke him. Minghap always felt too hard, nothing is ever ‘just’ happy or ‘just’ sad for him. His loyalty and devotion is both a blessing and a curse. 

And yet, he still believes in love.

He’s a hopeless romantic, even if it’s scary, even if it’ll hurt, he still holds onto hope that he could get away with it. Making a religion of your lips, worshiping the false god that is your adoration for each other.

It’s ironic to think like that in the middle of a cathedral he thinks, yet, he’s not guilty, not after what the church has done to him, to his once level-headed father.

It was another day of working on the mural, this time, you and Minghao worked until the late hours of the night, until all the church staff bid both of you goodnight, leaving you two to work in the dim light of the chandelier.

“Hey, have I ever told you that this is the first time I went inside a church since I was seventeen?” Minghao started, concentrating on his section of the mural, painting the rosy cheeks of a cherub.

“Huh? No, you haven’t. Why did you stop going to church? If you don’t mind me asking.” You said, a little startled from being broken out of your concentration.

“It’s simple really, my values didn’t align with the church anymore. And, I may have been  in love with a man at the time.” He joked, chuckling at the end of his sentence as if he was reminiscing about something humorous. 

You nod, “You know, I haven’t been in a church for about as long.” you say, setting your brush down to continue speaking, taking a short break to avoid cramping your hand. “I didn’t like how I was basically brainwashed all my life to devote my time and soul to the church, I didn’t feel a connection to religion anymore, not after what my group told me after what that priest did to me.”

Minghao’s expression softened, shoulders dropping with his grip on the brush relaxing. “That’s terrible, I’m sorry that happened to you.” He said, also resting his brush. He walked towards you, offering a hand to help you get off the floor. You take his hand, muttering thanks, and you follow him to the back of the church, in the pews nearest to the altar.

“You know, sometimes I feel as if some unknown force led us to meet each other.” Minghao started, “Think about it, how is it that we’re the only two people in the mentorship program, and how have we managed to fit together so perfectly? I think,” Minghao pauses to lick his lips, “if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have felt this way about them.” 

“I know that confession was a little misplaced, especially after what you just told me. But I just wanted to give you context for my offer,” He said, taking your hand, the warmth of his palm radiating to yours, warming it up, “I want to give your power back to you, I like you a lot, too much really. Ever since that first day, you made me breakfast. And I’d do anything to take that pain away from you.”

“Minghao…” You said, “I like you a lot too. I’m flattered by your confession, and so moved by your offer. But I can’t seem to figure out what your offer is supposed to mean.” 

“You were attacked at a church, violently, as if your body wasn’t yours for a time. I want to override those memories with ours, make it your choice. To have an outlet for your anger.”

You openly gape at him, not believing his offer. He wanted to…?

“Minghao, I want you.” 

It felt cathartic to say that, especially in a place you’d never think to say that. It was satisfying as if a weight had been lifted from you, the burden of memory weighing on your chest being removed, like the first time you could breathe freely again.

Mingahao gently cups your cheek, stroking the flushed skin with the pad of his thumb, slowly turning your head to face him, his lips hovering over yours, “I want you too.” He said before locking lips with you. 

Your hands immediately find their place at the back of his neck, fingers threading to the soft ends of his hair, pressing him closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes. Your skin felt hot, like desire was just boiling under your skin, blooming on the surface as a flush of red. Minghao crowds you, kissing you with want, with need. He kissed you, letting his hands do what his lips wanted to, his faith turning into despair. The tragedy of not having a taste of your skin yet, swirls in his gut, manifesting in desperation. He kissed you with urgency, as if this was the only chance to have you like this, his greed taking over his thoughts as it filled his mind with images of you in the most depraved positions, your usually clean image tainted with evidence of his lust.

After all, Minghao is just a man, a man who now finds religion in your lips.

He reluctantly parts from you, surprising you with his strength but lifting you suddenly, walking the short way to the altar. His plans dawn on you as soon as you feel the cool marble under you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you lock your lips with his again, moaning pathetically and the feeling of his palms snaking their way under your shirt, squeezing and kneading the flesh, taking handfuls of it as he needed it.

He parts from your lips with a whine, panting for air like just running a marathon. He only parts from you for a second, only for his mouth to connect with your jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses on it. Goosebumps litter your skin, his simple touch leaves you shivering in a way you didn’t think was possible. Your legs part and Minghao takes his place between them, now sucking and biting marks into your skin, maroon blooms all over your collarbones, as you pull him impossibly close, bodies flush together perfectly as if it was always meant to be.

You paw at his jacket, wanting to feel him without the barriers of fabric between the two of you. He frantically shrugged his jacket off, and pulled his shirt over his head without being prompted, using his weight to press you down into the marble altar. Takes his time to unbutton your shirt, kissing the skin with every button he undoes.

Warmth ripples under your skin like drops hitting the surface of a still body, each kiss sending a spark of heat directly to your core. Simple, but powerful. The way Minghao delicately worships your skin made a sense of serenity wash over you like a wave, crashing over your restless state.

Minghao rises to meet your lips, again, swallowing the sound of your moans, nipping at your lips. His hard cock presses into your core through his pants, layers of fabric between the places where you needed each other the most. Desperation turns into slight relief from the pressure of your bodies pressing together. 

He takes his time to strip you of your effects, taking time to peel it off of you with care. This is the first time he's seen you in such a compromising position, yet you don't feel pressured or nervous at all. The way he looks at you, it's as if you hung the stars in the sky one by one, just for you to take them in your eyes, a galaxy of secrets waiting to be uncovered; and you're willing to let him explore.

Minghao falls to his knees, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs. He presses kisses on your kneecap, slowly inching his way to your core, lips brushing against your skin, making you shiver. You watch as his head of hair reaches the apex of your thighs, placing a kiss on your pelvis, right above where you need him.

He looks up at you briefly, eyes locking with yours as if asking for permission to just dive right in. You nod, giving him the silent permission to do so. He smiles, his eyes fluttering shut as his mouth connects with your core, lips wrapping around your throbbing clit.

Your back arches from the marble, hands frantically searching for his head, threading your fingers through his hair to get a grip on anything. The way the wet muscle that was his tongue guided the swirl of hot desire in your stomach made you dizzy, his eyes shut tightly, and small whimpers left his lips, making you feel the vibrations.

He ate you like a starved man, “Oh, fuck, please-! Keep going!” The frantic pace of his mouth and tongue got more desperate with your praise, your encouragement made him press his face closer to your core, his jose bumping your clit, making him breathe in deep, taking in your scent.

His eyes flutter open at the smell, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a pathetic, high-pitched whine leaves his lips. His tongue pressed against the spongey spot in your walls, immediately this sends a shiver down your spine, your moans turning into desperate whines, grinding on his mouth.

And Minghao just stops to take it, exaggerating his moans to help you over the edge.

A knot starts to form in your core, only a mixture of pleas of his name leaves your lips as you topple over the edge, reaching your high. Your orgasm was blinding, a hot, white pleasure ripped through you, your body shaking from the impact of such a powerful climax.

Minghao groans as he savors the flavor of your release, drinking it like a sacred Ambrosia. He delicately licks at your folds, careful not to bump into your sensitive clit.

After being satisfied with cleaning you up, Minghao starts to unbuckle his belt, his pants hanging low on his hips. He finally takes his cock out of his boxer briefs, the tip is red and bulbous, angry and leaking. His mouth parts with a moan, licking his plump lips, finally getting the friction he so desperately wanted.

He gets on top of you, his warmth radiating off of him in waves. He brings a hand up to brush your hair away from your face, soaking up every detail, committing the look in your eyes to memory. He looks at you with adoration, eyes clouded with lust yet still shines with the respect he has for you as a person.

In his eyes you were perfect, especially with that fucked-out look on your face, panting and shaking under him.

He kisses you again, this time with less desperation. You could taste yourself on his lips, highlighting your desire for more. He finally guides his cock to your entrance, the tip of it bumping into your clit, a gasp falling from your lips.

You look up at Minghao, a halo of many colors forming around his head, the cross-shaped stained glass behind him glowing brightly in the full moonlight. If it wasn't for the depraved things he's done to you, you'd think that he looked angelic.

Finally, he slowly pushed his cock into you, a shaky breath leaving his lips, taking every ounce of self-control to not start frantically thrusting into you, letting you take the time to adjust to his size. Minghao was bigger than you thought he'd be, the sheer size of his cock stretching you deliciously. 

He pressed your foreheads together, your breathing synchronized. You open your hand on his chest, pressing your palm over his heart, you can feel the steady beating of it, and you can feel him breathe with you. The silence only amplified the feeling of being connected, a kind of vulnerability that you’ve never felt with anyone else before.

You savor his warmth, his closeness to you, before asking him to move. He nods wordlessly, not trusting his voice at the moment. He was buried to the hilt, but he slowly started to pull back until only his head stayed inside you, only to push back in, a wet, lewd squelch of your juices mixing with his echo and rung in your ears.

He started to pick up his pace, intertwining your hands together to gain leverage. “Fuck, you feel so good babe, so warm. So perfect for me.” He said lowly, mind emptying all thoughts except for the feeling of you around him. He can't get enough of you, your image infecting his mind, making a home in every crevice. 

Both of you were very vocal about how good it felt, pleasure rising to a pressure that made both of you light-headed, your grip on his hand tightening with every pointed thrust to the spot where you needed him the most.

His lips meet your neck again, more maroon marks blooming over your skin, marking you with evidence of him. He separated from the skin with a wet pop, his nose brushing against your cheek, his hair tickling the skin, “Please, I need you to cum around my cock. Don't make me beg for it, please, oh- please-” he whimpered in your ear, breathless from the force he was using. 

He turns to kiss you again, both of you swallowing each other's whines and moans as your desperation grows stronger. 

Soon, the coil in your stomach starts to tighten again, you can't hear much over the ringing in your ears, but you do hear the wet slapping of skin together, and the ragged breathing coming from the man above you. You barely registered your own orgasm, you felt like you weren't in your body, like your soul was floating in the space where you felt neither pain nor pleasure. 

Tears ran down your face, your body shaking like a leaf. Minghao watched as your juices squirted out of you, coating his cock and legs with your release. This violently sends him into his own orgasm, barely catching himself with the altar as the force of it knocks the wind out of him, his knees shaking, barely able to hold his weight up.

He almost collapsed into you with how much his body couldn't handle the sensations, his hips never ceasing even with both of your oversensitivity.

He finally stops, both of you winded from the intensity of your sex. He kisses you with finality that night, right at the altar with the light of the cross over you.

It's been months since you and Minghao started the mural, and also started hooking up. The first time you slept with him was certainly not the last. You were sure you desecrated every inch of this sacred space, as well as every corner of your shared apartment. 

But, all good things come to an end. 

Today was the day you finally added the finishing touches to the mural, marking the end of your program, and the end of your time in Amsterdam. 

Your mentor was pleased with how it turned out, he was proud of how far the both of you have gotten in your skills. And decided to throw a party in his studio to celebrate the completion of your final project. 

You and Minghao skirt around the idea of what will happen next after the program ends, enjoying the company of your mentor and the few friends you've made in Amsterdam. 

It was after the party that things finally started to feel grim, each item you packed into your suitcase felt like heavy weights or a nail in the coffin of your relationship with Minghao.

You couldn't fathom going back to reality, back to your lonely apartment without the anticipation of waking up and making breakfast for him. 

You realized too late that you loved him.

“What happens to us now?” His question surprised you, you didn't think he was thinking about this as hard as you were. 

“Well, we go back to where we came from. Go on with our lives, I guess.” You reply, too cowardly to admit what you truly felt, as it'll only hurt more.

“That's it?” He asked incredulously, “You don't want to even try to make this work?” His tone wasn't one of anger or disappointment, Minghao had always been an expressive person, but this was something worse. Hurt.

“Minghao I-” You start, but he cuts you off,

“Well, you know what? Okay. It's okay- just… if there's ever a next time. Meet me in Amsterdam. Please, at least, try for me?”

You nod, your breathing becoming shaky as tears begin to well in your eyes. You hug him tightly, almost as if it'll be the last time you ever see him.

But no, there will be a next time. No matter how long it'll take.

You let the tears fall when the plane finally took off. 

It's been several years since your time in Amsterdam, your experience there marked you in more ways than one. 

Your art career found success after the mural you worked on with him received critical acclaim. Opening galleries and exhibits all around the world, people enjoy the art you made greatly. 

You find yourself in the place where it all started, Amsterdam. 

“So, there really is a next time, huh?” You said, your voice was calmer than you expected it to be, especially with being overcome with such intense emotions.

Minghao smiles at you, wordlessly coming in to hug you.

“I'm not letting you go, not this time.”

[morebird]

Okay finally

Small lighting tutorial (very long post, lots of images)

First of all I work on PS but if you have basic knowledge of your program of choice this will be easy to follow.

Second I use a different layer for everything. So assume that each screenshot is a new layer.

Third I've seen people not knowing how to choose colors for light and shadow and for me it comes out naturally so I don't put that much thought in it, but picking the neighboring color in the color wheel never fails, so lets say you use a red for the lighting, then pick either orange or pink for the shadow. The shadow should be fairly desaturated. However if the lighting is the desaturated you can go wild with the shadow saturation. But this is subjective and it's very dependent on your goals and art style.

Okay let's start:

Line art

Base color

Now for the shadow layer. The layer blending mode is in hard light mode

I use the quick selection tool on the previous base color layer, and in the new shadow layer with the hard light mode set I fill the selection with the paint bucket tool.

The lighting layer is on the linear dodge (add) mode.

I use the lasso tool to select the lighting parts, then I fill it with paint bucket tool.

Then once I have everything, I use the quick selection tool on this lighting layer, and in a new layer also on linear dodge mode I use a radial gradient, drag it from the direction of the light source, you have to try it out on it's own but it usual takes me a couple of tries to get the desired intensity.

Also tbh you can just leave it like that no gradient, if pure cel shading is your goal.

I add all the extra shadows, this layer is also on hard light mode, I use the lasso tool and a normal round soft brush.

This next part is something that I sometimes do and sometimes it's not necessary, in this case since the light source is moonlight the light on the clothes should bounce off on the face so I do an extra gradient. (or just do this if you want to make it lighter lmao)

With the quick selection tool, I select either the base color or the shadow layer, and in a new layer with the linear dodge mode, I use a gradient, it has to be either a fairly dark color or a very soft gradient.

And lastly in a new layer, with linear dodge mode I use a soft edge brush on top of the lighting areas, to give it that glow.

Sometimes, like in this case, I have to use some color balance adjustments, more contrast or brightness.

And that's it. Good luck and hope this helped you, if you have any questions my inbox is open 😊

If you think oh I cant believe this creature just gave me great knowledge for free, and you want to drop a few coins in my direction here's my ko-fi

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #13 | 11.11.24

Feels good to be back! This is our first post-Kickstarter devlog and I'm so excited to be writing it.

First of all— Lost in Limbo was successfully funded on September 20th, 2024! 🎉🎇

Yep, it has been almost two months, but it's still something to celebrate! Thanks to every single one of you for making this possible! We didn't meet all our stretch goals (there were a lot and taxes are a pain) but that doesn't mean we are giving up on those. More on that another time.

There's a lot of things we want to show y'all, so let's jump into it!

A sneak peak of Envy's postcard!

Raquel has been working hard on getting the "special postcards from your favorite LI" ready to send them to print ASAP! Initially we were going to use art we already had of the LIs, but we thought it was more exciting to offer y'all exclusive art pieces. After this, Raquel will focus exclusively on the rework of the sprites!

We hosted a few polls and got a lot of feedback. If you missed it, you can check it here!

Astro says hello :^)

As you know, the Extended Demo will feature more locations, including a glimpse of the MC's city, Faybourne! Astro is getting the main street ready for you and your bestie as you go on about your day. I've calculated around three / four different and new locations to properly pace the demo as we imagined it in the first place!

The writing deparment (me. i'm the department) has been focusing on the Extended Demo script. I have a lot of things to play with, like the flavor choices, the personality choices, and more. I want to create a proper balance because one of the things y'all asked for was more choices, and the pacing needed a bit of fixing, as we already knew!

The Extended Demo will actually introduce characters you've heard about, like your mom, your ominous grandmother, and your bestie. So no more talking about them, you'll actually get to meet them like we wanted to!

There will also be more time with the LIs, and hopefully the amount of time you spend with each one of them will feel more balanced, too.

Programming has been an adventure! Huge shoutout to Feniks for helping me figure out how to properly make a toggle for the timed choices as well as helping me polish the personality system. What a lifesaver!

So the timed choices toggle now works perfectly. That means you'll be able to turn them off if you'd like to play the game without being jumpscared by a timer—that doesn't mean you won't be able to mess up, though, on purpose or not :^) This is a dark game, after all!

The personality choice system lets you decide how the MC reacts to things including the nature of your romance with the LI. That means dialogue will automatically change in certain parts of the game to reflect the personality of your MC, some options will be locked, some unlocked, etc. There's three different personalities available.

For colorblind folks, the choices will have a different icon when you hover over them for you to know they're different!

Also, I've started coding some extra mini cgs Kayden's been working on! There'll be more in the Extended Demo to enhance the experience, so we hope you enjoy them! :^)

All the packaging stuff has arrived to our provisional headquarters (Raquel's home), and our business cards have been secured! Every backer with physical goodies will receive one for free :^) This month has been all about managing Backerkit, orders and merch, as well as preparing the Extended Demo. We hope we can receive everything very very soon and start shipping packages starting December!

For now, that's it! There's a lot of stuff going behind the scenes, a lot of things that need attention, and a lot of planning happening. Also the catastrophe the DANA has been on our cities is keeping me a bit on edge, but I'm trying to focus on work. This Saturday I'm going on a trip to Greece with my family, so I'll disconnect then! It's our first time traveling to a different country since I was like...seven years old? And we have been saving up and preparing a lot for the trip, so we are excited :^)

I hope everyone has been taking care and doing alright! Have a huge hug from the Ravenstar Team, and see you around!

[bornagainmurdock]

harmonious

author's note: hi omg thank you anon for this request! i was a band and orchestra kid and love love love this idea! i decided to go with cellist, not sure why but i have strong feelings about matt loving cellos.

contents: fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, meet cute technically, and then a series of cute dates, first kiss

word count: 1.9k

Matt had been a regular at the syphony since he had graduated law school. It was a nice constant in his life knowing that every month on the third Friday he could go to the music hall and hear music. Various guest musicians shuffled through, each featured for one show before traveling to a new city to guest, but tonight was something different: a member of the symphony was being granted a guest spot, performing as the soloist for the week.

You had started playing cellos what felt like eons ago. Playing felt like second nature, so when you were offered the guest spot for April, you accepted on the spot, already having put together a concert's worth of music to perform.

Matt had heard your name before. You had features every now and then in pieces. Since he was a regular, the music hall started printing braille programs for him. He liked running his finger over your name. It was his favorite song. So when he heard you were the soloist, he couldn't have been more excited.

He hadn't spoke to you, but had heard you speaking in the lobby post shows talking to your family and friends that had attended.

Tonight, the night of your headlining show, Matt spent an extra hour getting ready, trying his best to look pristine and perfect, not a hair out of place. He had asked Karen to help him find some nice cuff links for the show a few weeks back, so tonight when he finally unboxed them, he pressed over them with his fingers as he clasped them and smiled. Two little metal silver forte designs.

At the show, Matt recevied his braille program, finding his way to his usual seat and dancing his touch over your name over and over, excited and smiling the whole time.

When the curtain rose and the auditorium fell silent, Matt wiggled in his seat, placing the program in his lap to clap the director providing your introduction.

Throughout the show, Matt gasped and clapped at your skills, constantly impressing him with your musical abilities.

Once the show ended, you approached the mic and thanked the audience for coming, and laughed. It felt like golden sunlight to Matt, his smile glossy and bright as you spoke.

When the curtain fell, Matt stood, walkign out into the lobby and waited to hear your voice.

"Mom! Thank you for coming. I'm so glad you could make it." You shouted.

Matt wasn't trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, but he did want to congradulate you on a great show, so he began to walk over to you.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say that you chose a lovely program. I am constantly amazed by your talents." Matt spoke, blushed and starstruck.

"Mr. Murdock, what an honor to hear a compliment like that from you, one of the best lawyers in New York. I'm really glad you liked the show." You smiled.

"That's far too kind, but thank you." Matt said.

Your family and friends walked away for a second, giving you some time to speak to Matt.

"I'm grateful you came to talk to me this evening. You always seem to dart out so fast, never get a chance to thank you for supporting the arts." You said.

"The symphony gives me some time to myself to enjoy the wonders of the world. I'm glad I got to speak to you this evening as well. I feel very lucky to be in the prescense of such greatness."

"I could say the same. I have to mingle about the room, but could I get your number?" You said, perhaps a bit too forward, but willing to embarass yourself nonetheless.

"Absolutely. Here why don't you put yours in my phone, and I'll call you." Matt smiled.

"I'd like that."

You grabbed Matt's phone that he passed to you and typed in your name and phone number before handing it back to him.

"Hope to see you soon, Mr. Murdock." You smirked.

"Same to you."

Matt messaged you that same night, sending you a beautifully crafted congradulations message about the performance. Then, within the minute, asked when you were free.

You both set up a date for the next week, choosing to go to a new restaurant you both had never been to before.

---

The night of the date, you got ready, and started to head for the restaurant, seeing Matt on the opposite street corner, crossing to meet him.

"Matt. Hi." You said, trying not to startle him.

"Hi. It's good to see you. We're close to the restaurant, right? Sometimes I miss count my blocks." He joked.

"Allow me to escort you." You touched his arm, allowing him to use you as a lead.

When you got to the door, he opened it for you, allowing you to walk inside. At the host stand, Matt spoke.

"Two for 8. Under Murdock." He shuffled, folding his cane away.

"Yes, of course. Follow me." The host said.

Matt reached for your arm again, and you walked to the table.

Once the host brought waters, Matt took a sip and then sat back into his seat.

"Your show really was great. I really appreciated your choice of Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1. A classic, but not played much anymore." Matt started.

"Well thank you. It was once of the first cello features I got to play in high school. Fell in love with it immediately and wanted to honor that memory here." You smiled.

You bantered the whole night, starting the discussion with mentions of the show and classical music as a whole, but eventually making your way to childhood.

"DId you play any instruments as a kid, Matt?" You asked.

"Didn't have the chance to. Came from an athletic family, and then the church didn't have anything but the organ. I've played a bit of guitar, but just the basics. Foggy taught me during law school." He laughed.

"Maybe you should show me some of your skills. That is if you still have that guitar."

"I think if I touched a guitar now I'd start on fire. I prefer to admire the music, not create it myself."

"I think that's fair. I mean, without music appreciators like you, I wouldn't have an audience." You said.

Once you both had finished your meal, you helped escort Matt through the maze of tables and out onto the New York street.

"I've had a really great time tonight." You said.

"I did, too. There's a jazz trio show around here next week. Would you like to join me?" Matt asked.

"I would. I don't get to hear much jazz, so I think that's a great idea. I'll see you then, Matt."

"Let me know when you get home safe." Matt said, unfolding his cane.

"I will. See you soon."

---

That next week you met Matt at the cocktail bar for the jazz trio. He was already sat at a table when you got there, nursing a bourbon.

"Hi! Hope I'm not late." You said, sitting down.

"Just in time. They go on in a few minutes. What would you like to drink? I can order for you at the bar." Matt asked.

"A vodka martini please."

"You got it."

He stood and ordered at the bar, bringing back your drink.

"Do you come here often? It's really nice in here." You looked around.

"I do. One of my favorite nicer places. Got an espresso martini here once and kept coming back. Not every cocktail bar can pour an espresso shot as good as here." He chuckled.

The band entered the stage, adjusting the seats and mics before introducing themselves and starting the set.

Between song, Matt would talk to you about the music, telling you about his favorite jazz musicians and other lore that he found important to the show.

"I've heard these guys play before, and let me tell you their bass player, off the charts. Can't top him. Can't listen to the original version of that last song since him."

After the set, Matt took both of your glasses to the bar, and walked outside with you.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a really nice time. I love hearing your insights into music. It's like you're breathing fresh air into everything." You blushed.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the show and the bar. Do you need to get back, or would you like to walk for a bit?"

"I'd love to walk."

"Or we could go get late night ice cream." Matt suggested.

"I think you're a genious."

Matt grabbed your arm again, but this time he led, taking you to his favorite late night ice cream spot.

You looked at the menu and decided, allowing Matt to order first.

"I'll take two scoops of pistachio in a cup." He smiled, allowing you to get closer to the counter to speak.

"I'll have two scoops as well. One white chocolate and one cotton candy." You said.

When they finished scooping your orders, you grabbed both bowls and joined Matt at the picnic table outside.

"A pistachio guy, hmmm. I'm learning a lot." You teased.

"White chocolate and cotton candy. Says a lot about you, too."

"Oh and what does that say?" You joked.

"That you're fun loving and adventurous. You've never been here before and you got two non-typical flavors. You're not scared of change." He attemped to appear serious in his attempt at reading you but continued to smile and giggle as he spoke. "What does pistachio say about me?"

"That you're a weirdo that likes pistachio ice cream." You laughed.

"You got me there."

You both fell into a pit of giggles, trying to catch your breath before laughing again.

"My cheeks hurt. Stop it." You continued laughing.

Once you were both done, you tossed both bowls and spoons, Matt standing beside you.

"Can I walk you home?"

"I'd like that."

"Lead the way captain." Matt ironically saluted.

He took your arm again and you started wlaking the few blocks back. Since the date had started, you don't think there had been a moment of silence besides during the jazz set. It was magical just how well you both got along.

Once you got to the stoop of your apartment you unlached Matt's arm.

"Thank you again for tonight. I had a really good time." You said.

"I really like going out with you." Matt agreed.

There was a minute of silence: you looking at Matt, and Matt fidgetting with his cane.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

"Please."

He leaned in, placing his hand on your cheek, and kissed you.

It only lasted a few seconds, but you were seeing stars. When he pulled away, he kept his hand on your cheek, smiling at you.

"Wow." He spoke.

"Wow." You repeated.

"You should get inside, it's getting cold." He said, blushed again.

You leaned in to kiss him once more and put your hand on his cheek this time.

You walked up a few steps of the stoop before turning back.

"Let me know when you get home safe."

"Will go." He smirked.

[haza1ll]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[bamsara]

I’m a little confused, who is Arson? Did you name your computer that or the program or something like that? Been trying to piece stuff together with all the posts about Arson but I feel a little lost. Like it’s an inside joke that I wasn’t there for the development of it

Rip I forgot new followers are not Aware of Arson

Arson is my laptop. Specifically a laptop sona I made for my laptop because of the sheer amount of trouble I've had with him. Twitch chat started shipping an 'enemies to lovers' between me and my laptop and it was giving me such a hard time during a livestream that it turned into a full fledged oc.

He's a gaming laptop I got in 2018 and had saved up for and while he's very good, his technical service life was only for 3 years and it's been about 5 and a half years since I've had him because I didn't want to replace him.

This means for the last two years he's been progressivly getting worse; starting with the battery going out completely, and then it getting discontinued so I couldn't replace it, the laptop started lagging hard, which I just kinda delt with. Then he's bluescreening a lot, and my files are getting corrupted and disappear. He cannot detatch from the wall so he's not a laptop anymore but really just a desktop now anyway. His model is discontinued so I cant get parts to replace him or have him repaired.

It's a running joke that 99% of all streaming problems are Arson's fault because for no reason he'll just. Crash and critcal error this and bluescreen that.

He got his name because he overheats really badly, and while gaming laptops are built to withstand that kind of heat, it still does wear and tear over time.

It would have been fine for 2-3 years but it's climbing near to 6 and part of the front is melted and I have to turn stream and art off early sometimes to let him cool down because the keyboard has left burns on my fingers. (Though this only happens when using him intensly, like streaming or gaming or art....which is 90% of what I do. The other being writing and work.) (Also before anyone asks, I regularly clean out the fans and I have a cooling stand beneath him)

Currently the top part of his keyboard is not working anymore and he's missing keys anyway. Part of his casing near the charging port is broken off. I've used his heat to cook tiny cookies while I've played skyrim before

TBH If you just search up Arson on my blog you'll see a whole series of posts about him.

he's my guy......my robot.........

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[mclalan]

What art program do you use? sorry if you already answered something like this but im so mesmerized by the techniques you use in your art.

Thank you. No need to apologise; I don't mind answering this question because it's an excuse to walk through my latest image!

The concept for this piece is based on being perceived online through interpretations of posts and artwork, yet how artificial this can be. The relationship the viewer forms is more with the narrative of the work, and any insight into the artist through this feels highly awkward to me, which is precisely what I want to explore with this piece.

In this example, I wanted an attractive sitter to look like someone out of a new romantics music video or like an Enya video, because this genre and era of media is very aesthetically pleasing and nostalgic for me. I hold it as an unobtainable ideal— a hauntology. So, as wonderful as it is, it equally feels shameful and perverse because it's an aesthetic object of desire that I am contriving.

The sitter is holding one of my cartoon characters, Lauren Ipson, the protagonist of my Ersatz world project. A trope in writing is when a character acts as a self-insert of the author, and I'm conscious to try and avoid that with Lauren. I try to write Lauren as dry and sardonic yet also fun, dramatic, and friendly. I don't think of these as personal qualities of my own, but I imagine personal qualities bleeding into fictional characters is inevitable.

Yet Lauren Ipson feels much more alive a character to me compared to any attempt at self-portraiture or self-expression that I've done, which is very little because I'm not interested in constructing a perceivable identity. (I'm aware this text itself can be interpreted as self-expression; however, to me this is just another construct.)

So Is the sitter meant to be me, controlling Lauren? I'm definitely baiting the viewer to think this, and you can interpret it that way if you want, but really I don't think of the sitter as me at all. My intention is to show how it's all a facarde. The sitter is basically just as much a doll, a puppet, a mannequin as Lauren Ipson is, if anything more so.

There's a deliberate irony between Lauren's cartoon rendering and the sitter, who I wanted to render with more detail and evoke a modernist style. I'm inspired by Hans Bellmer and Dorothea Tanning with their work with dolls. However, despite that implied visual hierarchy, the more detailed sitter shares a similar, stilted vector construct to Lauren. They're both born from vector drawing after all. And it's further undermined with the way Lauren the doll looks directly at the viewer, as if she's alive, while the sitter looks to the side with a blank, almost dead-in-the-eyes expression.

Anyway, with that in mind, almost all of my work starts as a thumbnail sketch. Although I often draft digitally and am fine with doing that, I feel more confident doing it freehand on paper. Digital rendering feels more like a refinement process to me. Funnily enough, although I often prefer to sketch with physical materials, I'm anxious of refining or rendering with them.

I like my designs to be very direct and conceivable, so a solid silhouette, pose, negative space etc. I often create a quick digital sketch with this in mind, either by tracing or referencing the thumbnail, although sometimes I skip this step and go straight to the rendered drawing. The aim is to establish a visual guide, dividing the drawing into various shapes for digital airbrush rendering later on.

With this composition, I made a second draft with more attention to details such as the face, hands and feet. Sometimes I'll use photo references if I'm struggling with posing or anatomy. These drafts are often blue because it's easier to render the black linework over a transparent blue sketch.

The chair took some time but was relatively simple to render. It uses the line tool set to magnetic anchor point, following two-point perspective vanishing points. I like two-point perspective because it feels sort of digitally native to me to have these impossibly perfect vertical lines. I also know the horizon line should be at eye level or something, but I just like the idea of the top of the chair to be perfectly horizontal.

Here I'm drawing the final rendered form. I use the stroke tool with it set as smooth as possible. Often I'll redraw lines over and over if it means getting certain curves to look right. Once the lines are drawn, I'll fill them in and remove the stroke, leaving just the solid vector shape. The shade of grey I use is done to simply denote the shape. It does not represent any kind of shading or anything; in fact, when I bring it into Photoshop, all these shapes are set to the same shade, but if I had that here in Animate as I'm drawing, it would be impossible to see what I'm doing. The red background is just for clarity.

Once it's all drawn, I'll make sure every shape is clean, overlapping nicely, and divided into its own layer. A composition can often be comprised of hundreds of separate shapes.

Each shape will be its own layer in Photoshop, which will operate as a clipping mask. The clipping masks act like masking tape or shielded off areas for soft brush opacity rendering, similar to the soft atomised rendering from an airbrush, just done digitally.

I follow very rudimentary painting techniques of simple shading, lighting, and bounce-back highlights. I follow a simplified Grisaille technique, focusing on strong values in greyscale before adding a wash of colour with a color gradient map set to layer style color. Sometimes my values can be a little off, but as long as the values are all consistently acting together, I can correct them with transparent washes or color curves. If the greyscale looks harmonious with all the forms clear, colour will likely work.

Proper digital painters will say this is an amateur process, with results that look mechanical and stiff, as colours in the real world all bounce together off different surfaces, resulting in colour harmonies. However, I don't mind the inharmonious nature of the colours, as I find the values give the composition enough harmony. I'm working digitally, so why go to all the effort to make it not look digital? It's interesting to me to have the red chair look blindingly red, the green skirt look blindingly green.

Colours can look boring without some form of harmony though, so I will add in blue-greens with the darker areas, more turquoise greens towards the highlights.

Skin tones are far more complex, however, as it's something that's more informed by realism. This is why kigurumi dolls with their plastic flesh look so artificial to the eye, because we're familiar with how light passes through flesh and skin and all the subtleties of colour that it picks up. This piece is the first time I've explored flesh tones, as typically I avoid all this by rendering skin as grey porcelain.

I needed to really up the contrast, with shaded areas becoming purples and highlights verging on washed out. Areas with more blood, like feet and cheeks, appear more orange and red. Areas closer to bone and cartilage, like the bridge of the nose, can look almost blue and green. Exploring these colour values and tints in the aim of natural tones was fun to do, and ironic given how blank the face is.

Although in the moment I feel very much like I'm rendering a realistic reality, when I step back, I'm reminded how stylised and unrealistic the painting actually is. It looks kind of insane, like everything is so uniform and overtly saturated. It doesn't feel present in a real space, despite the shadow and form implies one. But I'm not consciously thinking of these things, of style, as I'm working. To me, it's a process of world-building and problem-solving.