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liv-laugh-die · 3 years ago

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||Admiring|| 💖Miya Osamu x Gn!reader

trope: strangers meeting in the park (ik its random bear with me😭)

warnings: its not proofread all the way through (im sorry im tired), so theres probably grammatical errors or typos but other than that none

genre: fluff pretty much just sappy stuff

pairing/s: osamu x gn!reader

wc: about 2.5k

a/n: oh my god idk where i came up with this but i think its cute so :p i hope you enjoy!!

You stared at your blank computer screen, hope of finishing your assignment before its due date at midnight slowly vanishing.

The clock on your desk read 11:27pm, the green lines wavering in your vision as your eyes slowly drooped, trying to drag you into the depths of slumber. You wanted to sleep, you really did, but you knew there was no way you could give up writing your essay, even now, knowing you weren’t going to submit it on time, because you would stress too much about it if you didn’t at least try to complete it before the due date.

Pushing yourself away from your desk, your chair squeaking against the floor ever so slightly in your dead silent dorm room, you tried to think of some excuse that your professor might believe. You doubted there was anything you could think of, but hey, your professor was better than what your roommates’ had mentioned theirs being, and you were grateful for that. Maybe you could tell him that you were exhausted from working extra hours at your job since you had had to cover your coworker’s shift and that’s why you couldn’t complete your essay on time? Or, maybe you could get away with a simple “I was lacking interest in the material, and couldn’t understand anything, and I didn’t ask for help because I knew that you are such a busy man trying to do so many things at once. Another hopeless near college drop-out wasn’t something I thought you needed on your hands.”

....Maybe not the latter.

You sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair, practically feeling it screaming at you to wash it. You barely had time in the mornings to take showers anymore, and when you took them at night, you never had the strength to wash your hair, always knowing that putting a hat on overtop or throwing on your hoodie would make it seem fine on the outside, and that was good enough for you. As long as you looked at least decent and somewhat presentable.

Your dorm room was fairly small, like every other one, but the lack of furniture made it seem larger than the rest. Nothing more than you and your roommate’s joint desk, the mini fridge in the corner, and the beds filled the space. You almost tripped over your backpack lying next to the bunk bed pushed up against the wall, falling to what would’ve been inches away from your roommate’s sleeping body.

In an attempt not to disturb them, you tiptoed through the room, stepping over the occasional heap of clothes or homework, until you reached the bathroom. You fumbled over the door knob before almost tumbling into the small space. Glancing in the mirror, you didn’t fail to notice your messy hair, the dark circles tracing beneath your eyes, or the way you looked like you were seconds away from passing out. The sound of running water rang in your ears as you turned on the sink faucet, cupping your hands together and bringing your face down to meet them, rubbing the cold water all over you in an attempt to keep you awake for just a few moments longer.

Your eyes returned back to the mirror as you sighed at your dripping wet face. There was no way possible you were going to finish your assignment on time. You knew it, your roommate knew it before they passed out, and you had noticed your professor’s wary glance this morning in class as a sign that he knew it too.

An idea sprang into your head, part of you dreading the optimism that seemed to seep through your brain slowly. You didn’t feel like being energetic right now.

---an hour later---

You weren’t exactly sure how, when, or why you decided it would be a good idea to take a shower (you did end up washing your hair, thank god), get your things together in your bag, and head to the off-campus coffee shop (since the one on-campus had already closed), but you found yourself with a warm cup of coffee in hand as you exited the shop, the cold midnight air enveloping you in an unwelcome embrace.

You shivered. The only thing your spontaneous brain had forgotten had to have been your jacket, the one thing your normal brain would’ve remembered if it weren’t already past midnight and if you weren’t majorly sleep-deprived.

You most certainly weren’t done with your essay yet, nor was there any possible way for you to finish it on time since it was now approximately thirteen minutes past the due time, but you let yourself breathe for now.

There weren’t many people out at this hour, and it made the usual busy city streets seemed like a ghost town. There were a few restaurants still open as you strolled along the sidewalk, their lights responsible for illuminating more than half the area in front of you. You passed by an onigiri shop your friend had recommended to you, but you just weren’t that hungry. Most nights, you’d kill for a midnight snack, but your single shot of espresso coffee was satisfying your needs for now.

You decided to head to the park after seeing a rabbit hop its way across the vacant street and into the bushes in that direction. The fresh air was nice and cool against your dry and croaky lungs, and your ears needed a different sound than that of you miserably attempting to touch type quickly, your fingers rapping against the keyboard with vigor.

A stream nearby flowed softly, the dripping of the water against the rocks complimenting the noise of the crickets chirping in sync just downstream. Your footsteps cut through the grass slowly, not bothering to follow the stone path. The park was a nice change of scenery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here by yourself in peace, it was always you and your rambunctious friends who ran through every now and then just to see the dogs running through the sprinklers, or the occasional poor cat whose owner dragged them out into the daylight for exercise. This was peaceful, though, and you appreciated that.

A few more rabbits crossed your path, giving you that wide-eyed, side glance before darting off into the darkness, outside the reach of the lampposts emitting light. The sound of the stream soon faded out as you continued to walk through the park, sipping your coffee every so often. The warmth from your cup was soon dying out, and you figured you’d have to start walking back to your university sooner or later. Maybe you could crash at your friend’s house who lived just off campus, though you had forgotten your phone back at your dorm and had no alarm, no laptop to complete your work, and no contact with anyone else who might worry where you’d be. You had really no choice but to trek back to your dorm in the darkness, cutting your peaceful visit to the park short.

You let yourself have a few more minutes of stress free relaxing as you sat down on a bench just before the ground let out into a downhill slope overlooking the rest of the city below. The trees around you swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, you thought it was the wind talking, and not an actual human being who had somehow made his way beside you without gathering your attention.

“Didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour,” the stranger mumbled. You glanced up, almost startled that, indeed, someone else was actually awake and strolling through the park.

The boy couldn’t have been much older than you were, maybe the same age. He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, the wind tousled his dark hair ever so slightly, and the moonlight played along, illuminating his face just so you could actually see how gorgeous he was.

You cleared your throat, averting your eyes back to the ground as you shifted over, creating more space on the bench in case he wanted to sit down beside you. “I decided to actually take care of myself for once and give myself some time to breathe before facing the wrath of my professor tomorrow when he finds out I didn’t turn in my essay on time.” You let out a low, breathy chuckle, not exactly sure of what would happen next.

The guy sat down on the bench next to you, though he made sure to give you some personal space, which you were grateful for. He laughed along with you a bit, and you could tell just from his tone just how tired he really was.

You gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “So, what the stressful thing that brought you here in the middle of the night?”

He smiled half-heartedly, eyes trained on the moon. “Work stuff. Jus’ been busy, I guess.” He shrugged.

You waited for him to continue on, but he stayed silent. You didn’t complain, though. Wasn’t your whole reason for coming out here in the dead of the night for some quiet? Plus, it wasn’t awkward either. You were comfortable sitting next to this stranger.

“What do you do for work?” You waited a little longer than necessary to ask, but he didn’t seem to mind the long pause.

“I own a restaurant a few blocks away. I love the job, it’s just tiring havin’ to deal with rude customers like my brother who won’t get the hint and get out sometimes. I got into an argument with him earlier today and he just wouldn’t shut it.” He rolled his eyes and took his hands out of his pockets, making eye contact with you as he went on about his day, and you couldn’t help but smile at his passion. “The guy thinks he can just walk in when I’m working with a new employee and just act like he runs the place! Quite stupid if you ask me. Such a jerk, he is. Thinkin’ about just banning him from the place, really.”

You snorted. “He really bugs you that much, huh?”

The guy smirked at your laugh, admiring it, though you would never had guess that was what flashed across his face in a million years. He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I love ‘im ‘cause he’s my twin and my best friend, but he really knows how to annoy the hell outta me.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just get a sign in the window that says “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and cross it out and write my brother’s name instead,” he reasoned, and the pondering look in his eyes made you wonder if he was actually considering the idea.

You smiled. “You’re funny.”

“You say that like ya weren’t expectin’ it.”

A laugh made its way out your lips. “Well, when you’re approached by a stranger in the middle of the night you sort of expect the worst.”

The guy glanced off in the distance, away from you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry, didn’t think of that comin’ off that way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m funny then, and not some creep, eh?”

You nodded, the smile on your face not fading as he changed topics.

“So, what’s your essay on? Any way I can help ya finish it?”

You shook your head dismissively. “Oh, no. It was due thirty minutes ago.” You quickly explained the topic you were writing about in class before getting side tracked. “My professor had said he would allow it to be turned in the next morning, but I doubt he actually meant it.”

He smiled a wide grin, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “You go to the university nearby, right?”

You nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “If I’ve got any luck, there’s a chance you go there too?”

He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t, sorry. I’ve visited campus a few times because some of my friends go there, but I just usually focus on work.”

His gaze was tilted upwards towards the sky, and you couldn’t help but admire how the exhaustion still shone in his eyes, but somehow that same passion gleamed there too just mentioning what he did for a living. You wished you were that passionate about something that would actually support you financially in the future and make you happy.

When he glanced back at you, you were still taking his essence in, and he made a look of confusion. “What?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nothing. I just admire that you can dedicate yourself to something and make it seem so easy.” He looked at you, interested to hear what you had to say, even though you were sure you couldn’t be the first person to tell him this. “I haven’t even known you for more than ten minutes and I can already tell you’re passionate about what you do and if you’re stressed about it, it must mean you’re dedicated to seeing your work through, and that’s more than enough to admire and appreciate, especially when that can be so difficult sometimes.” You finished your short tangent, looking back up at him to see him staring intently at you, seemingly in awe of what you’d just said. You felt a blush creep onto your face as you quickly blurted out, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be so straightforward and weird like that- I sound like some crazy secret admirer or something...”

The crickets chirped in the silence between the two of you, and it felt like it would never end.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret admirer. I mean, wouldn’t be so secret, but...” You saw the smile creep up onto his face. “It’s nice being appreciated. Nobody really tells me that kind o’ stuff, so... thanks, I guess.”

The heat on your cheeks didn’t go away by any means, but you grew more comfortable with it as you mumbled, “Maybe I wouldn’t mind admiring you.”

Now, it was the boy’s turn to blush, and you smiled at how his cheeks grew redder with every passing second, and how his subtle grin spoke a thousand words he didn’t need to say.

“Miya Osamu.” The boy’s hand came into your view as he extended it for you to shake. “I own Onigiri Miya across from the grocery outlet.”

You smirked, grasping his hand in yours as you said, “L/N Y/N. I own an official license for being a horrible driver and an ID that proves I’m a sleep-deprived college student and that’s about it.”

He laughed, shaking your hand and standing up, letting go too soon for your liking.

Because for some weird reason, his hand felt right in yours.

Osamu said a quick goodbye, mentioning something about how he should get going and how you should get some sleep before he disappeared down the stone path back into the darkness.

You stood up not too long after he’d left, your coffee now entirely cold as you plopped the half full cup into the trash can on your walk back to your dorm, not needing the pathetic warmth anymore. Your heart was beating fast and the feeling of Osamu’s hand resting in yours lingered on your palm, and that kept you warm enough.

Maybe you’d be visiting that onigiri place your friend recommended to you a little sooner than you’d originally planned, and maybe more often than you would’ve expected.

#osamu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq #miya osamu #osamu #osamu x reader #oml i actually like this #ahhhh its cute #since when have i been motivated #i hope this doesnt flop *sob*

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preciousthingsareprecious · 4 years ago

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Finding Us Chapter 21

Alright! Here I am at last with another Tim chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it.

AO3 Link

Tim couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up in his chest at the idea of progress in the stalker case. It fueled his desire to keep moving in other directions, while he waited on Damian to finish his sketch he dove back into work on the Alkali case.

Currently, he was trying once again not to backseat hack as Barbara was finally digging through the Alkali’s files. After their trip to the physical location, Babs had used the access gained through Stephanie to create her own back door and they’d sat on that for a little while to make sure no one found it.

It was early the morning after Damian’s encounter with the creepy man and Tim was in the belfry standing over Barbara’s shoulder because there was nothing to currently do on the stalker case. Tim hadn’t recognized Damian’s sketch of the guy he’d seen, and so they were waiting on facial recognition to grab his identity. The kid’s sketch was definitely good enough for the system to pick something up, they just had to wait.

“Have you found anything interesting yet?” he asked, trying not to bounce on his toes.

“Lots. Nothing we’re looking for. Though, there is a guy here who’s last name is Bandersnatch, which is pretty cool.”

She was teasing, but Tim could also hear the note of warning in her voice. When she found what they were looking for she’d tell him, and he shouldn’t keep pushing. He sighed, and turned to step across the room, over to a mini fridge installed for snacks.

“Want a soda?” he called.

She shook her head, “It’s too early for that, toss me a tea.” she answered.

He grabbed a bottle of tea out for Babs and a can of orange soda for himself and moved back over to the computer.

“Thanks for helping on this.” he said, handing her the tea, then cracking open his soda.

“Of course, the sooner we get these guys the better.”

Tim agreed, and sipped at his soda while he played a matching game on his phone in an attempt to both distract and stop himself from tossing advice Barbara’s way. He got stuck on a particularly difficult level and found himself totally lost in it for a while, trying again and again to win. It made the waiting a lot easier, even if he also kind of wanted to toss his phone out the window and watch it crash at the bottom of the building.

“Got something.” Babs said at last.

Tim looked up bleary eyed, blinking away red diamonds and orange squares. It took his brain a moment to register what she’d said before he stood up, the chair shaking.

“Great!” he hurried over to look at the screen again, “What’d you find?”

“Well, under the private files I found some that were locked with a password, after cracking that I found these.”

The file she’d opened was filled with unreadable text.

“It’s encrypted?” Tim asked.

“I think it’s some kind of cypher. See it follows a sort of pattern. Nothing too overt or easy like a caesar cipher. It’s got to have a key.”

Tim hummed, she was right, the text was filled with letters and numbers and broken up in a way that looked like lines of real text, if they’d been in any kind of legible order.

“Well then we’d better get to cracking it.”

They worked for a couple hours trying to figure out what cypher had been used, and testing various codes to no avail. Eventually they decided to give it some time to breathe, and their brains time to think of new ideas. Babs forwarded him the files so he could keep looking over them later and Tim left her to work on other projects.

As he was leaving, he found Cassandra waiting for him down at the base of the Belfry. She was eating a cinnamon roll like it was a doughnut.

“Hey.” she said, handing him a cup of coffee, and shaking her wrist and the plastic bag hanging off it.

Tim took the offered cup, then tugged the bag off her free hand checking inside. A second cinnamon roll sat tucked into a nest of napkins. He fished it out, careful not to spill his drink then copied Cass, taking a huge bite out of the side.

It was still warm, and the taste of cinnamon and sugar danced across his tongue in a way that made him think of home. Of early Saturday mornings with Alfred, stirring together a bowl of butter, sugar, and cinnamon so the man could carefully spread it across dough. Or of Bruce dropping off a few in his room, ruffling his hair, and telling him he should probably finish his homework before working on another case.

“Ready to head back?” she asked.

He washed down the bite of bread with some coffee and nodded, “Yeah, I think Babs and I have done all we can. How’re things back at the manor?”

Cass shrugged, “Everyone is still waiting on the results of the search, so they all split up to work on other things.”

They moved to the car Cass had brought to pick him up in, it was one of Bruce's many cars, black and not too fancy. Tim held a hand out for the keys and after an eye roll Cass dropped them in his palm.

“I drove here.” she argued.

“You drive too fast for me and my coffee.” he replied.

“Fair.” she shrugged.

As Tim pulled away from the clocktower, still munching on his cinnamon roll Cass pipped back up.

“Can we stop at the craft store?”

He glanced at her, “Sure, but why?”

“Damian wanted some more colored pencils. He sent a list and asked me to stop if I had time.” She tugged a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and opened it to show him.

A detailed list of colors, brands, and what not to buy’s filled the page in Damian’s neat, tight, handwriting. Tim was surprised to find a little picture of a dog at the bottom of the page, it wasn’t as detailed as Damian usually did, and smiling for some reason.

“He drew it as a thank you, and promised to make me a better one with the pencils.” Cass said, catching where Tim’s eye had fallen, then she added, “Eyes on the road.”

Tim flicked the turn signal on the car to indicate he needed to go left, towards the craft store Damian frequented, “Why didn’t he come if he wanted to restock?”

Cass shrugged again, and folded the paper instead of crumpling it back up. She set it in her lap, fingers tapping on the paper with gentle tip taps.

Damian rarely missed a chance to get his own art supplies. He was as picky about them as Tim was over film or lenses for his cameras. Sure it was just a few replacement pencils, but even those Tim knew Damian would linger over for an hour if he was left to it. He wondered briefly if his mild concussion had anything to do with staying home. Maybe Alfred had told him he couldn’t leave? But no, it had been days at this point, he was probably cleared at last for most activities.

Maybe it was because he knew Cass was headed to pick up Tim.

He tried not to think too hard on that thought. They hadn’t really talked much lately. Both had been busy with their own things, and besides that, they didn’t really talk a lot to begin with. He’d thought they were doing better, but at the same time Tim knew they weren’t.

Tim reached out to snatch his coffee and take a sip from it. Now that he thought about it, maybe they were doing better after all. Damian had called him by his first name the night before. And he’d gone looking for clues as to Tim’s stalker. A queasy feeling bubbled up in Tim’s stomach. He’d been quick to dismiss Damian’s attempted apology back when they’d been at the mall, and now he was starting to wonder if he'd been really trying to mend that bridge. T im loved the idea of having a little brother, and way back when he'd first met Damian he'd been happy to have one, for all of two seconds. Still, sometimes he thought they had found that perfect spot of being siblings, and other times it felt like there was a gaping hole between them. Especially lately.

He pulled into the store’s parking lot not even realizing they’d made it there, his body on autopilot. Cass cheered as she climbed out of the car, and Tim stayed quiet.

When he looked up at the storefront he figured it out.

He might be jealous. Of the squirt.

Maybe it wasn't their past that was bothering him so much lately, but their present. Tim thought he'd shaken off those feelings in regards to Jason and Damian, but maybe he hadn't. Even in the wake of the family’s eyes turning on him Tim still couldn’t stop thinking about how Damian seemed to draw everyone in all the time. Dick, then Jason, Bruce with his fretting after they’d gotten hurt. It was--it was like he fit in a way Tim couldn’t quite imagine himself fitting again. Like they were both the same piece, and there was only one spot left on the puzzle, and Damian had swooped in just in time to fill it. Even now, he felt odd about the attention. Like the moment everything was done his family would stop looking at him again. Stop seeing Tim, because he’d messed up. He’d failed to be the one to fix everything and he no longer deserved to be seen.

“Tim?”

“Coming!” he said, locking the car door.

Inside he was hit with the smell of paint and paper. The whole place was a kaleidoscope of colors and supplies crammed together in a space that should have felt cluttered, but instead actually seemed homely. He followed Cass to the pencils and held each as she selected them, reading Damian’s list carefully, then making Tim double check “ just in case” .

He thought they’d be in and out, but once they’d found Damian’s stuff Cass insisted on browsing. Tim followed her, feeling a bit like Titus pattering after Damian as he instructed the dog on something very un-dog-like and soon his arms were full.

Cass had added extra packs of less high quality colored pencils, crayons, thin markers --not thick, because apparently those didn’t trace well-- and made him pick out a coloring book. She selected one full of animals, and Tim picked one that was more abstract. Like black and white stained glass. He and Cass locked eyes on an adult swear word coloring book and both grinned.

“For Jason?” Tim asked.

“And one for Dick.” Cass grinned.

Soon they’d selected adult coloring books for the whole family. Some simply because they knew they’d get a laugh out of them, and others from the knowledge of the recipient getting genuine delight from it.

By the time they left, Tim was feeling better. His day brightened even more when Cass hooked an arm through his at home, and dragged him into the living room.

“We are going to color and watch She-Ra.” she declared.

He could have argued and said he had work to do. But he knew Cass would tell him a break was good. And wasn’t that what he’d just told Babs? He could have fallen into other cases or dug out his 3Ds to play some Animal Crossing. But the best idea in the whole world right then was sitting on the floor and coloring with his sister, and he wasn’t going to pass it up.

He filled in two whole pages, first lined with marker --Cass had been right about the thin ones-- then colored in as dark as he could with his own box of colored pencils. At some point the sounds of She-Ra had been turned down as he and Cass chatted about everything.

She told stories of an adventure with Steph. He talked about Mindbender and how weird it was to have Jason in the house again. Then about how cool it was to have Jason in the house. Cass told him about a ballet she’d seen. All of it, whether it was little nothings or big changes, ebbed and flowed to the scritch scritch of pencil on paper, and legs folded up or kicked into the air.

At some point, Alfred brought in cocoa and water. Then sandwiches. Dick breezed through and gasped over his book, stopping to color in all of an F before getting bored and breezing back out. Jason cackled over his book, and then genuinely thanked them for thinking of him. Damian collected his pencils, didn’t complain about a single one, and stared at his own book of animals to color like it was made of gold before tucking it under an arm and scurrying away.

Bruce stayed the longest, lounging on a couch to add his own commentary between theirs, infrequent, but enough to say “I’m here, I’m listening, I love you.” before he too was called away. He planted a kiss on each of their heads before leaving.

It was Stephanie who broke up the peace. Showing up like a tornado, and stirring them from settled spaces into laughter. They traded pencils for controllers and fired up Smash Brothers for a wholly different, but still perfect, adventure.

There, surrounded in waves by his family Tim wondered if he’d been wrong earlier. If maybe the puzzle had room for all of them. And every time someone new came in, it just expanded and made room for them. He certainly felt like he fit in, and it was really nice.

#finding us #tim drake #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #other batfam are scattered in this one #fanfiction #precious posts #chapter 21 #I am flabbergasted every time I see how many chapters this fic has #it's so many #past me wrote a lot

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rohad93 · 4 years ago

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Worth the Fight

Medival Au, cause i am nothing if not predictable in what i like to write about. dont expect these updates as quickly as MM. im still working out the plot.

Trees, fields, and more, big surprise, more fields. Sometimes she spotted the occasional wild animal scampering through the grass, though that was the most interesting thing she’d seen so far.

”Are we there yet?” Luz asked for the third time in an hour as she and Eda trudged along the dirt road they had been following for two days as it wound through the fields and forests of the countryside.

“Do you see the city?” Eda asked as she glanced at her apprentice out of the corner of her eye.

“No…”

“Then we’re not there yet!” Eda threw up her arms. “Kid, relax, we’ll get there when we get there, I know you’re tired, I’m tired, hell, King is tired.” She gestured to the demonic dire wolf trotting along beside them, tongue lolling out of his mouth. His black fur shined in the sun but was near blinding against the white fur on the top of his head that created a distinct skull-like pattern across the top of his face.

“Poor baby…,” Luz cooed as she reached out and scratched the space between his horns, making his tail wag.

“He’ll live….” Eda rolled her eyes. “but you might not if you ask me if ‘we’re there yet’ one more time,” she grumbled, adjusting the light plate armor on her shoulders. It was the height of summer and as used to traveling in the stuff as she was, she was still baking under the sweltering midday sun.

Luz just pouted as they walked along. The leather of her boots was rubbing raw spots on the soles of her feet with each mile they walked.

Two days ago Eda had shaken her awake from where she and King had been lying curled up in a pile of hay. The seventeen-year-old had been half asleep and had missed most of what the older woman had been saying to her, just trying to keep her eyes open as Eda rambled on and shoved their meager belongings into an old rucksack.

What she managed to glean from the rapid-paced, one-sided conversation was something about a job, money, and leaving town, which did catch her attention.

They had been to a lot of towns over the years she had been training under Eda, and some were definitely better than others in terms of how the locals treated humans, but the one they had been staying in for the last year was probably the worst of them all. It got to the point that when Eda went to meet potential clients for jobs, Luz had to stay behind because they would take one look at Luz trailing behind her and decide that no matter the older woman’s reputation with a blade, they didn’t want the human girl around.

They’d see her rounded ears and sneer, glaring down their noses at her. Surely any self-respecting witch or sell-sword worth her salt wouldn’t be letting a human follow her around. Eda would say something snarky that almost always resulted in a near brawl and Luz would stick her tongue out at them as Eda stomped away, grumbling colorful words under her breath.

Eda was on her side, but it eventually boiled down to being able to eat and Luz decided it was best to just stay behind, even though it meant she wouldn’t get much in the way of training in swordsmanship or the combat magic that went along with it, not that she could actually do the same kind of combat magic that was natural to Witch’s anyway, being human.

As Eda had once explained it to her, witches had an extra organ, a bile sac, she wasn't entirely sure that's what it was actually called, she learned a long time ago that Eda had a tendency to make things up if she didn't know the answer. Supposedly it was an extra organ that allowed witches to absorb the natural magical energy of their world and use it to add powerful effects to items, especially weapons. Those that did were witch knights, the strongest and some of the most respected members of society, and Luz wanted so badly to be one, to prove that she was worth something, human or not, but without a bile sac, she was lacking the magical aspect, which left her at a distinct disadvantage. Heck, she didn’t even have a real sword, so she couldn’t even do the most basic jobs to help Eda feed the three of them, King alone ate like a horse, with Luz trailing behind him. She was a growing girl after all! Eda always said she’d get one when she thought she was ready, not before.

She’d usually just use the dull-practice blade Eda had given her to work on her stances and strikes, beating the living tar out of whatever trees she happened to come across in the woods while she waited for her to come back with King trailing along behind her.

To say she was glad to be out of that town though was an understatement, even if Eda still hadn’t told her where they were going, and as glad as she was to have left the dreary little town of Beldville, she was so tired of walking!

She pulled at the collar of her violet-colored tunic, sweat was making it stick to her clammy skin, but she knew better than to say anything, they were both hot and tired.

They continued the silent trudge beneath the sun, which thankfully was slowly, but surely sinking closer and closer toward the horizon, though it didn’t lessen the heat any. Eventually, the sun had moved to dip just below the horizon, nearly blinding her with its bright orange rays, as it sank and dark blues were starting to rise up over the horizon line in response to the waning light.

Luz shielded her eyes with a hand and glanced into the distance. The dark smudge in the distance was slowly growing into the silhouettes of buildings and she grinned.

“Is that it?” she pointed excitedly toward the end of the road.

"Nope," Eda said, popping the 'p'.

"Whadda ya mean 'nope'?" Luz whined. "That's a town!"

"It's a town, and we're going to spend the night there, but that's not where we're going," she informed her and Luz groaned, shoulder slumping.

"Where ARE we going?" she huffed.

"Patience, apprentice." Eda wagged a finger and grinned at her, making Luz grumble.

Eda always said that when she didn’t feel like explaining herself, which was often.

It was a small town, and although it was nearly dark there were still a number of people milling about the streets.

A few people glanced at her and Luz frowned, pulling up her hood to cover her distinctly rounded ears from view. There was no need to draw any unneeded trouble when they were only going to stay one night.

Eda noticed the motion but said nothing as she dug through a pouch on her belt.

"Here, Kid." She held her hand out to Luz, who held up her upturned palm as Eda dropped a handful of coins into it. "Go get yourself something to eat and I'll meet you back here at this inn." she hooked the thumb over her shoulder to the worn building behind her.

Luz broke out into a wide smile at the silver coins in her hand.

“Thanks, Eda!” She turned and dashed off down the road with King hot on her heels. Eda just smiled as she watched her disappear around the corner.

Luz trotted down the street, she didn’t know this place, but she knew most towns had pretty similar layouts and the market was always at the center of town, and sure enough, she soon found herself walking through the market with King at her side, most people gave the cloaked girl and the demonic creature a wide breadth, understandably. Usually, creatures like King were wild, bloodthirsty monsters that would just as soon rip off your arm, and she’d seen him do it the last time she’d been attacked by a villager with a human problem.

Luz had never feared him, he’s always just been Eda’s silent companion and her big baby ever since she’d started traveling with the gray-maned sell-sword.

She reached over and scratched that certain spot behind his right ear that made him let out a low growl that almost sounded like a happy hum to her.

“Hungry buddy?” she asked, smiling as they walked and he snorted.

There were days Luz was almost sure he understood every word she said. There was just a certain, almost intelligent look in his rusty, red-colored eyes when he looked at her.

“Let’s get some food then!”

She glanced around at the different shops and a few stalls before her eyes fell on a storefront and lit up.

‘Tomes and manuscripts’

“Book shop!” Luz whispered excitedly to herself and made a beeline for it. “Wait here, King.” She turned to the beast, who snorted and plopped himself onto the ground outside the shop. She pushed the door open and grinned as the smell of ink and old parchment filled her nose.

Luz loved books, though she rarely had access to them. Having to carry everything you owned with you at all times meant that you just couldn’t have some things, and books were heavy and took up space that could be put to better use, for food or supplies, that’s what Eda said anyway. Luz would reluctantly admit she was right, but she didn’t have to like it!

“Welcome!” a voice called from her left. She looked over at the old witch peering at her over his spectacles at her. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Uh, thank you, just looking.” she waved a hand.

He nodded and she walked down the many shelves packed with worn leather-bound tomes, grinning to herself as she ran her fingers over their spines, feeling the smooth, cool bindings beneath her fingertips. So many stories, knowledge, and wild adventures aplenty crammed between two hard leather covers. Luz adored books, a lifelong love affair lit aflame by her mother, who had taught her to read and write at a young age. Something uncommon among the lower classes of witches and unheard of for humans in the Empire of the Boiling Isles, who were the lowest class citizens of them all, but her mother hadn’t been from the Isles. She’d always told Luz about a beautiful place across the sea, with fine grain, white sand beaches, and tall trees very unlike the ones here, that dipped and swayed with the wind, their leaves long and few, but still perfect for blocking out the strong rays of sunlight on a clear day.

Luz sometimes wondered what it might actually be like to see it with her own eyes, she doubted she ever would, her mother had always told her it was far away and she’d left to escape a war, bringing only her native tongue and a sack of food.

Luz hummed to herself as she continued browsing up and down the dimly lit rows of books with rapt interest. She turned a corner and glimpsed a small table covered in old, worn books, and felt drawn to them.

They were all hefty tomes and she flipped through the first few on the stack, nothing of any real interest, some play scripts, and something about treaties on the great war. She set them aside and picked up the last one in the stack. It had a dark brown cover with gold inlay around the corners and spine. It’s worn leather bindings were pockmarked with scratches and divots, some worse than others. She flipped it open and found some of the pages were yellowed and crinkled in places as though they had gotten wet and been left out in the sun to dry at some point.

The pages were full of runic writing that she couldn’t even begin to guess at, but as she flipped through the pages she stopped on one with a drawing, a perfect circle with several lines that made up some kind of symbol.

There was very little text in the book that she understood but one set of runes did stand out, the symbols meaning ‘light’. She’d learned them years ago when her mother had told her that her name meant light.

She ran a finger over the crisp, inked lines of the glyph.

They glowed.

“Augh!” she nearly tossed the book across the room, it clattered across the floor with a heavy thump and she grimaced as it landed on the wooden floor. She held her arms up in defense, but the book only continued to lie there.

After a moment quickly scooped it up and gazed at its gold bindings before she flipped it back open to the page with the illustration. She hesitated a moment, hand hovering over the illustration before pressing her fingers over it, skin running across the rough parchment beneath.

The lines began to give off a pale light as she traced them, till eventually, the entire thing was awash in soft glimmering light.

Luz stared at the glowing drawing with open awe and wonder.

“Magic…,” she breathed.

She’d done magic, she wasn’t sure what kind or even what it was supposed to do, but for the first time in her life, magic!"

She needed to look through this, all of it.

"I'll be closing shop in a few minutes!" The shop keeps voice carried out through the store making Luz jerk.

A few minutes wasn't nearly enough time! Her mind raced with thoughts before finally deciding as she slapped the book closed and hurried to the front counter where the shopkeep was still standing.

“How many snails for this book?” she set it on the counter and he eyed it for a moment.

"This? Bah, ten snails, it has little value to any witch, merely theories on old magic.

"I'll take it!" She slapped half the money Eda had given her on the counter.

Only King would be eating tonight it seemed, but the chance at magic? Worth a hungry night.

He nodded and accepted the coins as he pushed the book back toward her, but as he did, got a glimpse under her hood and spotted her rounded ears.

Luz knew what happened the second it happened. His brows crinkled between his eyes and his once, disarming smile, curled into a sneer.

"A human, in my shop!?"

Luz snatched the book off the counter and bolted for the door.

"No take backs!" she squealed as she burst out the door, making King jump up as she did.

She dashed back the way they had come, the black beast loping along behind her with an excited, rumbling bark.

It didn't take long for them to get out of sight, turning the corner and ducking into an alley.

She pressed her back to the wall, clutching the book to her chest, and waited until it finally seemed like she wasn't being chased; she peeked her head out and found the street clear.

She turned back to look at the worn leather-bound book in her hands and grinned.

She couldn't wait to look at it better later.

King whined at her side, scratching at her with his paw.

"Ah, right, right. Let's get you some food, buddy." She smiled at him and snuck toward the other end of the market, spending the rest of the money Eda had given her to buy meat for the beast, who wolfed it down in record time, practically swallowing it whole before they made their way back to the Inn.

"Get some grub?" Eda asked from her place sitting in one of the beds when they walked into their rented room. King immediately trotting over to the empty bed and jumping up on it and curling up into a massive black ball of fur.

"Fed King, yea." She nodded, pulling off her cloak and kicking off her boots before she climbed into bed, shoving King over.

He growled at her but she just shoved harder till there was space for her to lay. He snorted in response but never lifted his head as she laid next to him, book in hand.

“What about you?” Eda narrowed her amber eyes at her, noticing how she only mentioned king. “And where’d you get the book?”

“Uh…” Luz stalled and Eda sighed.

You bought the book instead of eating, didn’t you?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah…,” Luz mumbled and Eda sighed.

"Well, what was so much more important than eating? If it's another flowery love story, kid, I swear…," she trailed off, rolling her eyes.

"It's not!" she insisted. "It's a book about magic!" She flipped it open and opened to the diagram and ran her hands over it, creating the same glow as it had in the bookshop, which made Eda sit up.

"Well, look at that…" she tilted her head. "What's it do?" She looked back up at Luz.

"I'm… not sure yet…" She shrugged. “I need more time to read it." Eda hummed, looking at the glowing glyph on the paper before shrugging and plopping back down on her bed.

“Whatever kid, just don’t stay up all night looking at it,” she grumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket up over her head.

“You go it, teach!” Luz promised as she snuggled back against King and flipped through the pages.

She really wished she could read any of the writing around it other than the runes for light. She flipped some more pages and found another diagram, a sketch of a sconce, or something similar with a circle drawn above it and little lines indicating rays of light. She hummed to herself.

She had only the basic knowledge of how Eda did magic. She could just kind of think about what kind of effect she wanted to apply to an object and would press her hand to the blade of her sword and it would glow for a second before taking effect, she’d made her show her enough times to know.

Luz pursed her lips and leaned over to her satchel sitting on the floor by her bed and dug out a piece of charcoal she liked to use to draw when they were on the road or she was waiting around on Eda, ignoring the angry rumbling of her empty stomach. She pulled her training sword out of its sheath and looked at the blunt, reflective weapon for a long minute before carefully drawing out the glyph across the flat of the blade.

she glanced back and forth between the book and her blade, humming to herself when the last line was completed. She hesitated a second before pressing a fingertip to it and the glyph glowed before the bright light spread across the entire length of the blade, lighting the room up.

Luz stared at it in awe, before a bright grin stretched across her face, empty stomach forgotten.

She’d done it.

She’d done magic!

#the owl house #worth the fight #eventual Lumity #Luz Noceda #King #Eda Clawthorne #toh #medival AU

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hellshoundtm · 3 years ago

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how do you get so many people interested in your characters? im genuinely curious as someone who also writes in this space, i cant seem to get anyone to really give a diddle darn dang and its. very discouraging.

hey, anon. first of all, i wanna thank you for ... valuing my input about this, at all? like even coming to my inbox and asking something like this because i know that it wasn’t an easy thing to just up and do. second? i just wanna say that i am sorry that you are discouraged. i can tell you with full confidence that you are not the only one who feels the way that you do right now and that i have felt it in the past and still get discouraged like. god. what? the other night? recently? still? it creeps up and it slaps us all in the face sometimes and i know that tumblr itself is something of a fucking beast when it comes to interactions --- especially in spaces that seem kinda tight-knit? i haven’t been dabbling around on tumblr since my return for very long. i think i have only been here a few months and i have spent most of it on the couch praying that people’s interests wouldn’t fade while i was too sick to be interesting. i got your ask a bit ago and i just kinda sat here for a moment and, like. i dunno. i am trying to think of helpful things to actually say. things that might be helpful --- or at the very least, help you feel better and boost you up a bit so you can tackle everything head-the-fuck-on. i have some thoughts? and i am hoping that they help you and anyone else who is in a rut, including future me. i guess the first thing i want to land on is kind of like. my catch-all for problem solving: communication. it’s so fucking important and i feel like in every community it works a little differently which is sorta wild. but i think. that your communication is super key when it comes to getting interactions. i’m not talking about jumping into people’s dms --- i’m mostly talking about making sure that you communicate what you want, openly and unapologetically and as well as you can while also respecting other people’s rules and wishes. tumblr is very unique in that people create their own experiences; they quite literally choose what they see on their dash. if they have followed you, it means that they are interested in your content!! it means that they want you as part of their tumblr-time, and that’s pretty fucking cool. there are two things i have found to be super important about how your own blog is set up, like. kind of a cheat-sheet for stuff to speedrun and make things easy.

tags. please god, have a tagging system and use it well. the more organized you are, the more comfortable people will be with hanging in your space. you should be especially careful about tagging your images if they are usfw or triggering in nature.

pinned. pinned posts are an absolute blessing, now. use yours!! your pinned post is like ... literally one of the first things that people are going to go looking for and it makes or breaks a follow if it isn’t set up in a way that is super clear. you should have your rules. you should have information about your muse. you should have extra things that will show people that you are invested in your character!! what makes you different from other canons? what’s the need-to-know about your oc? people are going to want to know your age and they are going to want to know your overall vibe.

i literally do not wanna get into it about graphics and icons and how people seem to have a preference for that over actual writing, but i will say that it does really help draw people in, more. any blog i have had in the past that doesn’t have a fc has been a lot more work, but it’s still possible and i encourage you to try. really? that’s all that i can do. if you put in the work, it will pay off every time. i promise. i promise on my heart and soul if you vibe with what you are doing, people will notice and they will dig it and they will gravitate towards you. i don’t interact with as many people as i would like. but i can easily say this: i don’t like writing unless i am giving it like my 500% effort. every time. for every single person on every single thread no matter how big or small. i have been writing for a longass time. i am good at this, it’s one of the few skillsets that i am actually proud of and i can easily say that i worked hard to get here. you might be pretty young on your writing journey or you might be where i am and just in a bit of a slump. i don’t want you to worry, either way. i want you to write. i want you to write, even if you feel like you are writing in an empty room. i want you to go absolute ham bananas. i want you to reach inside yourself and ask yourself why you are writing in the first place. i want you to find that passion and i want you to use it for yourself rather than other people. easy for me to say, i know. it’s so corny it’s so shitty, but that’s how i do it. that’s my secret, man. i write whatever my heart is feeling at the time. and boy do i re-read it a billion times and tweak it and love it and make sure that it’s something i would personally want to recieve before i send it out to who it is intended for. reach out. be a little noisy. make some connections, if you can. be honest about what you want with who you want. if you sit on the sidelines and twiddle your thumbs, you’re going to miss out. if you wallow in all these negative feelings, it’s going to hurt and it doesn’t need to! rp is for fun. it’s for? telling stories and growing your skillset. i only got to where i am today because i take my replies as challenges for becoming better. i want to be someone that people look forward to interacting with. i want to be someone that people experience emotions from when i put my heart into something. tumblr rp is ... art. it’s your art! you have to fucking own it. not everybody is gonna like what you make, not everybody is gonna pick up what you put down but i promise you that there will be a few that become ride-or-die, you just have to be willing to do the same thing for them. you will get back what you put into the universe, every time.

#long post #i hope this #is this just word salad i do not know

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justtooobsessed · 5 years ago

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7 Minutes in Heaven/Hell (Obingo Me!)

im a satanfucker ... L

Claustrophobia tw!

“Hey, hey, [Name]!” Asmodeus’ melodic voice perked up your ears as he knocked on the open door to your room. You placed a bookmark into the book you were reading; most of the time Asmodeus in your room meant you had to put everything down to gossip, paint each other’s nails, or even just be talked at rather than with.

“What is it, Asmo?” you said, turning your full attention to him. He loves having your full attention, the narcissist-- but it’s good to have this conniving devil on your side.

He took this as permission to enter and sauntered to your bed to take a seat. Satan followed, but was still stood close to the doorway, acting as if he shouldn’t even be here. “I have a question for you about a human thing,” Asmo said.

“Go on?”

“Okay, so! Solomon, Satan, and I were having a conversation the other day, and he said he did some embarrassing stuff while playing a game called ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven.’ We went to Simeon and the Chihuahua to ask about it since, you know, ‘Heaven’, but they had no idea what it was!” he threw his hands up in the air for dramatic effect. “We figured a fellow human would know, since Solomon won’t answer us.”

So Solomon played this before? Sounds like something to ask him about in the future. “It’s a game where two people, usually chosen randomly, are locked in a closet together for seven minutes to do, well… whatever it is they want to. Usually kissing,” you answered honestly.

“Have you ever done it before?”

“No, I’ve never--”

“Would you want to?” Satan suddenly inserted himself into the conversation. When you and Asmodeus looked at him with surprise, he covered his mouth and blushed. Quickly regaining his composure, he cleared his throat and continued, “Just for curiosity's sake, of course.”

Asmodeus was experiencing what one would call mild panic. As the demon of lust, he knew quite a lot of love and it’s associated emotions, but feeling those exact vibrations from his brother made him want to puke. “Satan. Do not tell me you just said that.”

“It was simply a question,” Satan leaned into his hand in a poor attempt to mask his blush, “[Name] said they had never done it before.”

Asmo was internally cringing at his brother’s awkwardness-- in the hundreds of thousands of years they’ve been brothers, he’s never witnessed Satan act so uncomfortably. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never even seen Satan express strong feelings towards anyone.

Luckily for Satan, Asmodeus was feeling extra nice today. “How about we play a game, then?” he said in that cheerfully mischievous voice of his, clapping his hands together with a smile. “You know, they always say the easiest way to learn is by doing! So show him, [Name]!”

You barely had time to process what was going on before Asmo had shoved both you and Satan into your small closet. You glanced at Satan, trying to reassure him with a look before trying the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. “Asmodeus! What's the big idea?”

“Don't worry,” he giggled, “You won’t be there forever! I’ll let you out when I get back, okay?”

“From where?” Satan shouted, losing his composure slightly. “How long do you plan to keep us in here?!”

“Seven hours,” Asmo answered as if it weren't that big of a deal.

You choked on your words, managing to repeat Asmo’s own with a stutter. “What do you mean, seven hours?” You were starting to get nervous just thinking about being in a small space for so long with someone you liked.

“Since we live for so long, seven minutes is like nothing!” Asmo quipped, “So seven minutes in heaven is equivalent to seven hours in hell.”

“That's way too long,”

“Calm down, [Name]~” he hummed, and you became angry just imagining the cocky look on his face. “Although I'll admit -- and I’m sure Satan would agree -- you are so cute when you’re angry!”

"Oh yeah? Well I'm about to get real fucking adorable–"

"Buh-bye, you two!" Asmo sang, and you heard the door to your room slam shut. At this point, yelling for help would do no good, and your D.D.D. was still in your room on your desk.

"Satan, do you have your phone on you?" you twisted around to face him, and he knocked his head on a shelf trying to back up. Despite the darkness of the closet, you could see him flush.

“Erm,” he checked his back and front pockets, then sighed. “I left it in my room. I didn't think I was going to be here so... long.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. A loud silence filled the closet as you both stood stiff as boards, looking at anything but each other. You wanted to step back to reduce how close you two were, but unfortunately you two were about as far as you could get. So instead you cleared your throat, arms rubbing against the clothes hanging in your closet.

Satan broke the silence. "So, when you were describing this game…” he finally looked you in the eye, “...you say you spend time in the closet doing ‘whatever it is you want to do.’ What do you want to do?”

‘I want to kiss you.’ You thought.

“Let's just talk,” you said.

Satan smiled, telling you that was a great idea. “Akuzon is going to have an anniversary sale soon. I was thinking of reading a new series, if you’ve got any suggestions.”

You sighed at his words. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he would be bare-minimum; always speaking of his brothers or something vague about something even more vague. “You know, you don’t have to fake smiles and act calm all the time," you said with an unintentional pout. “At least, not around me.”

“What do you mean?” he tipped his head like a curious dog, another made-up smile grazing his lips.

“I noticed you got angry at Asmo earlier. Why bottle it up? You're the avatar of wrath, after all.”

Satan’s eyes softened. If he was going to be stuck with you for seven hours, he might as well be honest. “It’s… different. I have to learn to keep my emotions in check, or else it could spell disaster for our realm. Yours too, probably.”

“I get that you’re trying to look out for others, but… It can’t be healthy to keep everything in, Satan,” you frowned. “I don’t want you to feel caged. You can at least be honest with me.”

The blonde demon took a sharp breath. He had never really had someone notice these things about him, and he was definitely thankful for the outlet you offered. “[Name],” his lips parted. “I… Thank you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Well, how about I ask you the same question you asked me? We have seven hours in here together. What do you want to do?”

‘I want to kiss you,’ he thought.

“I want to get to know you,” he said.

You looked upwards in thought. “Let’s see… I like dogs, I like [favorite food], and I like... You rested your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso. “You.”

You could hear his heart beat faster and faster in his chest. He mentally berated himself-- he’s spent years practicing how to keep his cool in any situation, and a hug made him panic like this? He laughed it off, wrapping his arms around you. “I think you’re a great friend too, [Name].”

You lifted your head from his chest, looking up into his eyes. “Satan,” you said in a stern voice. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

He leaned further into your embrace, resting his head atop yours. “Sorry. I like you too. I’ve just been too scared to say it this whole time.” Satan chuckled, and it was pure magic to feel his laughter through his chest. “Can you imagine that? Me, Satan, Avatar of Wrath, scared to tell someone I like them.” He nuzzled into your hair, mumbling his next words.. “How embarrassing.”

#mine #obingo me #obey me!#obey me! satan #obey me satan #obey me! satan x reader

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elitespacefreak · 4 years ago

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PART ONE OF WHO KNOWS | What’s up, it’s ya horny girl Fetty Whap. Your response to last night’s thot made me so happy hehe. How was your day? I have three days off from work now and I’m SO HYPED FOR CHRISTMAS. Christmas as an adult feels different, but it’s still enjoyable. TONIGHT’S THOT OF THE NIGHT IS: Zim worshiping you uwu. Zim likes being worshipped. Obvi. But Zim is never opposed to worshipping you. You’re not only his loyal lover, you’re also his right hand.

PART TWO OF WHO KNOWS FROM FETTY WHAP | you’re also his right hand. Zim flies you up to the highest point of the town where the sky is clear and the city is so far out, the light pollution doesn’t cover the stars. Zim starts your lesson with the constellations and major stars and planets you can see from Earth. He’ll need your help one day, so you should get a head start. You of course find it endearing and properly listen to all of his lessons.

PART THREE OF WHO KNOWS | After some time, he notices your cold, and he offers you a blanket. He likes how it makes you genuinely happy. He leads you back inside the ship. The sky is so clear and visibly through the stressed glass screen. You two sit in the pilot’s chair, cuddling one another. You enjoy the feeling of Zim’s face tucked into your neck, his content purring and small kisses keeping you at ease. He kisses down your neck, to your chest, and eventually he goes lower. ;)))

PART FOUR (maybe it's five i lost count OOPS) OF WHO KNOWS FROM FETTY WHAP | He kneels between your legs and helps you to shimmy out of your shorts. He grins up at you when you get flustered just at the sight of him between your thighs. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh before licking a long, agonizingly slow strip up your cunt. You’re mewling and trembling just as he plays with your pussy. He leaves kisses and licks all over your core before he attaches his lips to your clit

FINAL PART | He sucks at the little pearl and between the little suckles, he speaks such dirty praises. His tongue eventually stops licking little circles into the crevices of your clit. He slowly lets his tongue enter you, circling up inside of you. His nails would dig into your thighs as he pushes you into the seat, urging you to keep still as he has his way with you. WHOOOOO I wish I was YN right now LOL.🌞

— — — — —

YYOOOOOOOOO OH MY GOD OKAY IM VERY AWAKE NOW asjdkahfhsjfhshfks I had a lovely day yesterday!! Got to celebrate my roommates birthday and we went rolling skating and I fell on top of my skate wheels so now there’s a huge bruise on my butt where I sit but IM OKAY and also we went axe throwing and that was dope af, and then a big dinner at a fancy steampunk chocolate factory~ ALSO IT IS ALMOST CHRISTMAS I mean yeah the holidays kinda suck as an adult sometimes and here in the subtropics we don’t have seasons so it’s a lot of extra work to get into the spirit of things. BUT IM JOLLY ANYWAY DAMMIT.

This was a biggin’ so I’m tagging this as a long post lmao I have lots of thoughts~ First of all, YES TO BEING HIS RIGHT HAND I’ve actually been thinking about this so much in the last week, like obviously while in a relationship he’d learn a lot about being domestic and stuff. But I think you would learn a lot about Irken engineering and taking care of the base and being able to work on simple things just so he had more time to do the hard or dangerous things.

I mean not to totally feed into my want to be a service sub for him, but I think that would be like your end of the bargain per se. Zim does a lot for you; he protects you, makes sure you’re well taken care of, looks out for you, lavishes you with affection, probably cooks for you, and overall handles the responsibility of being in charge. So what do you do? Make sure things are running smoothly. He’s a stickler for making sure things are done a very certain way, which makes it easy to learn exactly how to do things around the base, and once he really trusts you, you take the initiative to make your rounds and complete any of the small tasks he’s had to set aside because he was busy.

And I mean stuff like changing filters and power cores, updating system functions, cleaning out the storage rooms, maybe gathering supplies for a big project. He’s not gonna like let you clean his weapons or anything or do any real maintenance. But there’s always something to do, and I just really love the idea of doing those tasks as an act of service~

BUT YES OF COURSE HE ALSO TAKES YOU OUT IN THE VOOT TO LOOK AT STARS AND TEACH YOU ABOUT SPACE THINGS BECAUSE HE FUCKING ADORES HOW ENAMORED YOU ARE WITH IT. Like any time something cool is happening like an eclipse or an equinox or just the planets are doing something neat, he flies you out to look and gives you a few lessons on whatever is happening and he just fucking loves how you pay such close attention to him he gets so soft for you over that shit I can’t hes so cute.

But yeah it’s cold up there and he always has blankets to cuddle you in and covers your face and neck in kisses because it makes you blush and he knows you get warm when you blush so technically it’s helping. And he continues that logic because he’s a fucking horn dog and will spend at least an hour eating you out, smiling every time you moan or whimper and try to hide behind the blanket he gave you until he’s too desperate to wait and sits you on his cock while he snuggles you for warmth and purrs the whole time he fucks into you because you feel so good and he just loves you so much he can hardly stand it.

And then by the time you get back you’re asleep and he gets to be all paternal and tuck you into bed.

#asks #long post #the freak is in #zim #fetty whap anon #I love shit like this ahskdhafkshdks #I just love him SO MUCH

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flowerbeom · 5 years ago

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What I Wouldn’t Give | Part 3: Home

Im Jaebeom x Female!Reader

Genre: Stylist AU. Fluff. Smut

Warnings: Some swearing, soft sex.

Words: 5.5k

Concept: A story where a heartsick, pining and ‘hopelessly in love with his stylist’ Jaebeom finds himself in an awkward situation in the house of the stylist who’s equally heart sick and hopelessly in love with him. But neither of them know… yet.

A/N: Part 3. Please enjoy. It was all too consuming while writing it so I’m glad it’s done. Thank you to every who has hyped up this story and loved it and all that good stuff. I hope you all like how it ends. Now if you please excuse me... *runs into a wall to cure my heartache*

Part 1: The Right Fit

Part 2: The Wrap Party

Part 3: Home

Song Mood: Call My Name by WOOGIE, G.Soul

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You were falling deeper and deeper into the onyx pools that held your stare. The light that filled your home made a hazel ring shine in his irises that you had never seen before, and if wasn’t for the insurmountable tremble clamping your hands to your sides, you would have taken his face in your hands and pulled it closer for a better look. Jaebeom was mesmerizing. But you had always known that. And as painful as it was to look at him, you couldn’t look away.

“Would I like a what?” He said in a whisper, his breath coated over your lips and you felt your lungs rattle. His eyes were still, as was his body, yet there was a shiver in his breath. Your brain sent a violent jolt down your body, a very physical reminder to breathe.

“A..” Breathe. “A dri..” One more, you’re turning purple. “A drink!” Jaebeom muffled the laugh that tried to break free into a choke in his throat. Completely taken with the way you blinked with every syllable, Jaebeom could only accept your offer with a nod.

Though something was amiss. The offer was accepted though any action was yet to be made as you both stood frozen by your door. The hem of your dress whispered against this knees and the zip of his jacket grazed against your shoulder. The very notion of moving was something completely lost on you and something needed to happen to break you out of the spell you had put each other under. Something drastic. Something extreme. Something like Jaebeom’s phone ringing in his pocket.

The sharp ting of the ring made you jump and the vibration against his leg made him shiver. Finally, the stare was broken, Jaebeom fighting with his clammy hands to pull out his phone.

“It’s Jinyoung.” A little startled.

“Oh, okay.” A little flustered.

“I’ll take it outside.” A little embarrassed.

“Sure.” A bit of the same.

You zigged when he zagged. Crossed when he weaved and fumbled around each other to let each other pass. In the midst of the scuffle his hand slid across your waist while yours slid down his arm; your eyes averted all contact and you finally pushed passed each other - hoping that the small amount of time it took for Jaebeom to take the call would be enough for both of you to regain composure. Unlikely.

Jaebeom pressed his back into the door after letting himself out, head tipping back to open his throat to heave in a breath he had needed since you pulled all the air out of his lungs when he was too close to almost kissing you. He answered the call one ring away from going straight to voicemail.

“Jinyoung-ah.”

“Don’t mess this up.” His hand raked back his hair, jaw clenched.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jaebeom heard Jinyoung grumble down the line, the frustrated grimace he would have made flashing in Jaebeom’s mind as clear as day.

“You know you’re exactly the same, right? You and her. One in the same. Stubborn. Headstrong. Pathetically blind.”

“Excuse me?!” Jaebeom was pacing, two steps one way then two steps back. Angry he was being insulted, but far more infuriated that you were too.

“You are the only two people in the world who don’t see it.” Jinyoung had no patience for pleasantries now.

“What?”

“That you’re in love with each other.” Jaebeom had more to say, but had forgotten it all. His jaw had dropped and his feet were still. Stripped of words and retorts; he fell silent.

“Hyung, listen to me. You have loved her for far too long. And she feels the same way.”

“No, she doe-”

“Shut up and let me speak. She shows it to you in so many ways and you fail to see it because you’re so caught up in your own feelings.” Jaebeom couldn’t respond, He couldn’t tell if it was because of what Jinyoung had said or because he couldn’t feel his own heart beat. Maybe he couldn’t feel it because he had left it inside with you. Either way, his thoughts were tearing him apart.

“Hyung. Listen to me. She loves you. Everyone can see it, everybody knows it. So just...just tell her already.” Jaebeom stood with his back to the door, staring at the moon for who knows how long after Jinyoung hung up. He sighed heavily, as if that low hanging drop of silver light was telling him the same things he had just heard, but all he could see was your face in it’s reflection. All he could ever see was you. Though, not for the want of trying, apparently he hadn’t seen much at all. So with a labouring breath and a rough hand rubbed against his chest, he went back inside.

“Sorry that took so long.” Jaebeom paused in the middle of your living room after spotting you with your head in the fridge. From the moment he stepped outside, to the moment his voice swirled around your apartment, you had been doubled over, leaning into the fridge. You wanted to say that you were looking for the beverage you had offered him earlier, but you were just trying to cool down. You had been staring at a jar of pickles, giving yourself a pep talk to no avail and found the recycled air did little to calm your nerves. Filling your cheeks with air, you pulled back from the shelves and turned towards the living room.

“I don’t seem to have anything other than wine..” You admitted in a voice so small you feared Jaebeom wouldn’t have heard you.

“That’s okay.” It was more than okay. It was almost ideal. Jaebeom needed the extra push to lower his inhibitions.

Pulling two glasses from your cupboard, you crossed to the dining table. You yanked out the cork from the bottle of wine you had half emptied earlier that night and smelt the puff of pinot noir waft into your nostrils. You poured one portion into his glass and only half of one into yours. Swollen ankles weren’t the only thing you’d have to content with if you drank anymore; it wasn’t the night to be loose lipped.

Though as you tamped the cork back into the bottle, through the corner of your eye you caught Jaebeom still standing aimlessly in the middle of your living room.

“You can sit.” His eyes shot in your direction, his head following slowly after. Your glass ladened hand pointed to the couch, his hips turning before his chest did.

“Ah, ahh yep.” His leather jacket slid slowly down his arms and you tried not to watch. You had seen it thousands of times before. In and out of clothes. On and off of jackets. Muscles tensing under skin as they caught the light. But it was never a sight you tired of. So you let yourself stare, right up until his face was looking back at yours as he lowered to sit on your couch.

You stopped on the other side of the coffee table, leaning forward to place his glass down. Just as your fingers had slipped away, his hand reached forward; latching onto your palm with a grip so tender you thought he might have mistaken you for glass.

“You still have this?” A fretful tone, one that pierced your chest and split your lungs apart.

“Still have what..?” Jaebeom’s thumb grazed over the white calloused skin that wrapped over your wrist bone. “Oh, the scar?”

“The hair stylist didn’t see you trying to fix my tie and went in with the straightener. Burnt you really badly. I can still hear the way you screamed.” His voice was soft but carried pain. Yours or his, you weren’t sure. His eyes were steady on your wrist as his thumb smoothed over the raised skin. Gently, delicately tracing over the scar as if to help it fade.

“That-that was over three years ago. How do you still remember that?” You were trembling, evident in the red wine rippling in the glass in your other hand. Jaebeom’s thumb stopped on the high point of your wrist, his fingers pressing into your palm; his eyes lifting to meet yours. Jaebeom hesitated, a million reasons racing around his mind. Just tell her. So, he did.

“I-I… I remember everything about you.” A thick swallow. A thick, heavy swallow tracked down your throat and burned through your chest. He looked at you with so much tenderness you could feel your skin starting to melt off your bones. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea what to do. All you could do was drop to your knees and place your glass down; his hand still holding yours from across the coffee table.

Seeing the way your eyes couldn’t find a spot to rest on his face, Jaebeom slowly took his hand away; the feeling equally as relieving as it was distressing. It wasn’t because you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you, the very opposite in fact. You wanted to get lost in the way his eyes enveloped you in their gaze and never leave, but you could feel your brain start to warp with the lack of oxygen, his stare too entracing for you to breathe normally. You felt your dress cinch into your waist with every breath you drew and wanted nothing more than to be out of it. Pushing off the coffee table to stand, Jaebeom watched you with expectant eyes.

“Do you..do you mind if I just get changed?” A lump pulled on Jaebeom’s vocal chords and his reply was nothing but a hitched breath and a nod. As you turned away, walking at a pace you deemed not an amble and not a sprint, your face contorted to pull in ugly, jagged breathes. He watched you step away, his shirt clinging to his sweat ridden back. Eventually his eyes lowered back down to his hands; one of them numb, the other begging to hold yours once more.

You made it. Into the safety of your bedroom and relished in the familiarity of the space. You were about to place your bag on the bed but a violent rattle from inside ripped a strangled yelp from your mouth and the bag to fling into the air. Plunging a hand into the bag, you pulled out your ringing phone and answered the call.

“Are you having fun?”

“Didn’t I tell you fuck off?” Hana sniggered down the line. You muttered expletives in response.

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him into your apartment like you expected nothing would happen!” She snapped, voice shrill through the receiver.

“Nothing will happen!” You snapped back.

“Yes, because you’re a pussy who can’t see that the guy you’ve been pining over for almost half a decade fucking loves you!” Little buzzes of static floated between the line holding you and Hana together, your expression, slack jaw with wide eyes while hers was frustrated fingers kneading her forehead. You assumed, at least.

“Look, stop denying what you’ve been feeling, especially from him. You’re not stupid. So stop acting like it. Just show him.”

“Show him what?”

“Just show him.” Hana offered more pieces of advice but they fell on deaf ears; ending the call with so little as a ‘goodbye’ to mark the conversation over. You sat on the edge of your bed staring at the ceiling until little white dots starting floating around your eyes. Head tipped back between your shoulder blades, you let your arms slide back until your back hit the mattress.

The tiny hum of the air conditioner made your ears tingle, but as much as you tried to drown it out, all you could hear was Jaebeom. He wasn’t even speaking but you could hear him. You could always hear him, though it seemed you never really listened. So as you bubbled air through pursed lips, you pulled yourself up; a new found resolve overcoming you. But first, you needed to get out of that dress.

Jaebeom nursed his glass of wine in the cup of his hands. Gazing around your apartment, he dwelled on little spots that showed him the sides of you he had wanted to know for years. Small notions of how your mind worked and what you kept close to your heart; from the way you arranged your shoes by the front door and how the first thing you can see when walking in was a picture of your parents. Jaebeom sat there quietly, and despite the ball of anxiety that pulsed just below his diaphragm, he felt rather content.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he tipped a small mouthful of liquid into his mouth, his eyes shifting up as he did. And there you were, through a small gap in your bedroom door that you must have failed to close in your haste, he spotted you. Leaning against your arms on the edge of your bed as you stared at the ceiling. Jaebeom lowered his glass, but not his eyes. He watched you slide onto your back as wisps of hair billowed around your face as you fell.

Enamored, captivated, bewitched. His better sense was telling him to look away, but he couldn’t find the strength to. He watched you sit up to lean forward and pull each one of his socks off your feet. Placing them carefully beside you, he watched you push off your knees to stand and turn to face your bed.

A dry swallow scratched down Jaebeom’s throat, eyes still peering through the gap in your bedroom door. His eyes followed your hand as it reached behind you; finding the zipper of your dress. Starting from your nape, you slowly pulled the tab down your spine, finishing at the small of your back. Jaebeom’s hands were gripping his glass and he felt a wave of heat travel through his body.

Starting from his cheeks, to his chest to falling right into his lap; the surge of heat coursed through his veins. Jaebeom’s lips fell open, his eyes glued to your bare back as it caught the light in the most exquisite way. His heart was crashing against his ribs, and just as you slid the dress down your arms to let it cascade onto the floor, Jaebeom finally realised what he was doing; tearing his eyes away from you and straight down between his feet.

Forcing the glass to his lips, he drained the wine down his throat in one swallow. Catching his breath, his eyes locked on a sketchbook tucked underneath your coffee table. Placing the glass on the table, he reached down and pulled the sketchbook out and rested it next to his glass. Jaebeom debated opening it, but it was rather that than risk staring at you. So, timidly, Jaebeom turned over the cover and gazed at the drawings he found.

Perfectly proportioned figures, donning outfits he recognised were ones you had dressed him in over the years. Markings and sketches, plans of colour and texture combinations. Lists of well known and lesser known designers filled the margins of each page. As he perused the pages, each of them adorned with the most intricate drawings, he noticed the figures that had been faceless began to acquire features.

With each passing era, more of his likeness were etched onto the pages. Rough sketches of his eyes and lips, then the edge of his nose to the rise of his cheek bones were added in later drawings. Jaebeom couldn’t stop turning the pages. He finally saw what Jinyoung was telling him what he was blind to.

As he approached the last few pages of the sketchbook, the figures no longer wore clothes, they no longer even had bodies. All he saw were almost perfect portraits. Candid, sincere illustrations of his likeness that could only be captured if someone’s heart was truly invested.

“I see now.” Falling off his lips in a whisper, the warmth that engulfed his body before had now shifted to his heart; his chest swelling with affection.

“I guess you found my sketchbook.” Jaebeom whipped his head up, finding you standing before him with a sheepish smile illuminating your features. Hair down, fresh face, loose shirt, hands gingerly resting in the pockets of linen shorts, you rocked on your heels; unsure of the expression he was holding.

“Ahh.. yeh. Umm so-sorry should I not be looking at…” He halted when you waved your hands reassuringly. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth upon seeing your eyes folding into crescent moons as a blush tinted your cheeks. It was an involuntary response, your body giving in to any wish he may have had and your hands said it was fine before your mouth could form a response. There was no use taking it back now, you could see the quiver in his hands and the flutter of his lashes and it hurt to see him anxious. There was no use hiding it now. Just show him. So, you did.

“No, it’s okay. You can look.” You lowered into the armchair beside the couch, sitting on the edge and leaned forward to pull the sketchbook closer towards you. “I mean, why can’t the subject look at the work born of their inspiration.”

Jaebeom felt his entire body tingle. He was staring at how you scanned over your drawings with a subjective eye and wanted to tell you that as beautiful as they were, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Almost like if you wrote a song about someone, you’d let them listen to it, right?” Yes, a million times yes. That’s exactly what Jaebeom was thinking and as much as he wanted to tell you that every song he had written since he met you had your voice weaved into the notes and the way you made him feel printed onto every lyric, he couldn’t; he was lost in how your finger traced down the edge of his face, even if it was just on paper.

Your eyes lifted from the page you were fiddling with to gaze into his. The moment was one of enraptured bliss; a second of calm in the storm of passion raging in both your hearts. A silent beat of understanding yet left so many questions unanswered. You were the first to look away, the buzzing in your ears too loud to withstand. Jaebeom found the moment a little overwhelming himself.

Rising to your feet, you noticed Jaebeom’s empty glass and felt your stomach rumble, enough to chase away the butterflies setting up camp. Your mouth leaped before thought, a common occurrence.

“Would you like some ramen?” You had taken one step towards the kitchen and froze. Turning your head slowly to meet Jaebeom’s equally confused face; the insinuation of your request was completely lost on you until that very moment. Your mouth dropped as his lips pulled between his teeth; both your eyes shaking in the tension that your simple question had brought on.

You pulled in a shallow breath, choking on the few words you tried to say.

“No, I.. just” Your hands scraped back your hair to drop it behind your shoulders.

“There was no..” Pause. “.. food at the party so…” Dry swallow. “I figured you must be hungry..” Hollow breath.

Silence. A pregnant pause heavy enough to suffocate even the most patient of persons. You bit down onto your bottom lip and as you stared across the coffee table into Jaebeom’s eyes, you could feel your cheeks lifting. You saw the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle and felt yours mirror them. Then in a flash, you broke; both of you did. Laughter spilled from your mouths and entwined in the air. The tension in the room diffused by the melodic sound of your revelry and Jaebeom rose to his feet; strengthened by the smile on your face.

“Ramen sounds good. I’ll help you.”

You pulled out a pot and he filled it with water. You tipped in the noodles and he placed it on the stove. You and Jaebeom floated around each other in your kitchen as if it was the most comfortable thing to do. When he asked for chopsticks you had already grabbed some from a drawer and placed them in his hand just as his tone inflected his sentence into a question. You giggled at the baffled grin he gave you.

You seemed to move as one, pushing and pulling like tides; always flowing with each other’s current rather than fighting against it. His gentle smile reflected yours and you both felt light, easy, settled; as if you had finally come home.

You placed bowls on the table and refilled your empty glasses with wine. Jaebeom followed closely after, placing the pot of ramen in the middle of the table and scooted his chair forward to sit across from you. Balancing chopsticks within your fingers, Jaebeom nodded before picking up his own.

“Ah shit.” Standing rather abruptly, you rounded the table. Striding past Jaebeom, he held out his hand on instinct, his fingertips brushing your bare thigh as you passed. Jaebeom shuddered, the softness of your skin, the warmth radiating beneath it. Jaebeom was slowly losing it, unraveling at the seams while seated at your dining table. He tensed his jaw, begging himself to hold it together. But you, in all your naive charm wouldn’t let him.

“I forgot I had fishcakes.” Holding onto the back of his chair, you leaned over his shoulder; placing the container next to his bowl. You were so close that your hair fell over his chest and he could breathe in your perfume and how it mixed with your skin; his eyes fluttering shut at how deeply it affected him.

As you moved to step away, your hair pulled over his shoulder like silk; gliding over his neck and he was done. Pushing his chair back suddenly, you jumped when his hand shot forward to grab your wrist; turning you back around to face him.

The tether holding his sanity ashore had snapped, and it was swiftly pulled away by the surging waves of passion overcoming him. He had waited long enough, endured long enough; been stupid long enough. He couldn't understand why you both had been this way, not now when he could see the love he held for you reflected in your eyes.

"What’re we doing?" Jaebeom’s voice was unsteady. His fingers soft yet strong around your wrist.

“We’re...we’re about to eat.” You saw your words travel through him and land in the pit of his stomach.

“No.” His other hand lifted to fill the empty space occupying yours. Pulling you forward to stand in the gap between his knees, Jaebeom looked up at you and he held every ounce of your attention.

“What are we doing?” Holding both your hands in his, you stared into Jaebeom’s eyes; a universe of questions swirling behind them and you were the only one who could give him answers. He pulled you closer again, his fingers sliding into the gaps between yours, hoping you’d feel grounded enough to answer him.

“I…” Five years of denial came to slap you in the face and as you felt Jaebeom’s fingerprints imprint onto your skin, you knew there was no use in doing so anymore.

“I honestly don’t know.” You breathed in and Jaebeom’s lungs filled with air.

“Apparently, no one does either.” You laughed at his candor, giving Jaebeom the spark to pull you in closer. There wasn’t much space between you, Jaebeom could very well rest his head on your chest and you would have simply let him. You would comb your fingers through his hair and held him in your arms, but the way he held your stare signaled there was still so much air to clear.

“You know, it hurts.” His jaw ticking as he breathed in through his nose, his hands gripping yours as if he was afraid you’d run away.

“It hurts seeing you everyday and not running to you. It hurts being so close to you and not holding you. It hurts loving…” Jaebeom’s eyes sealed shut, as if saying that last word had filled his mouth with poison. But he swallowed it down, pulling in the breath you had shakily exhaled.

“It hurts loving you the way I do. I love you so much that I can feel my heart tearing into pieces whenever you walk away.” You could feel him shake, his breathing became erratic and his eyes were darting across your face. Every word, every single drop of sound that fell off his trembling lips cleaved away at the wall you had built around your heart and every part of your ached to ease his shivering. You loved him, as painfully and as powerfully as he loved you and you had waited too long to tell him; but he cut you off before you had the chance.

“Do you know what I’d give to be with you? Do you know what I’d give to be yours?” He was rambling and you were afraid he wouldn’t stop. You pulled your hands out of his and lifted them to his face; his lips quivering to a halt, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Jae..” You sighed, his name felt divine to say. Thumbs caressing his cheeks to soothe him, Jaebeom’s hands found your waist; his hold on you keeping you from floating to the ceiling.

“Do you know what I wouldn’t give to be yours?” Brushing back his fringe you caught the flicker in his eye, the expectant gaze in his stare.

“Jaebeom..” You pulled his face closer to yours as he pulled your body closer to his.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give.”

His lips crashed into yours as five years of missed opportunities and wasted moments crashed to your feet. He pulled you into his arms, holding you against him with all the words he had left to say melting onto your lips. Your fingers raked into his hair, returning his kiss with passion, burning passion and it felt like your heart would burst.

Pulling him onto his feet, your lips never parted from his; tongues entwining with all the carnal desire you had suppressed behind stolen glances and unsaid confessions. Jaebeom’s hands roamed your back, sliding beneath your shirt to feel as much of you as he could. You stepped back, leading him from the table but Jaebeom bounded too fast and locked your foot to the ground, tipping you back; both falling to the ground, trapped in your own embrace.

Colliding with the ground, Jaebeom cradled your head in his hands; concern washed over his face while you could only laugh.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Finally opening your eyes through your laughter, you reached forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him down.

“Just kiss me.” His mouth found yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt to gently pull it over your head. Your fingers were struggling with his belt, a task you, in your profession, would have no trouble with; but the way his lips explored the edge of your jaw and down your neck had rendered your hands useless. You changed your approach, hooking your fingers under the hem of his shirt to pull it off him.

Tearing his lips away from your collarbone, Jaebeom reared back, smacking his head against the edge of the dining table. His hands snapped onto his head, as you sat up quickly; trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune, but his crumpled face was adorable.

“Are you okay?” Pressing your lips to his forehead as you tried to pull his hands away.

“Shut up.” But you couldn’t, laughter still spilling out of your mouth in failed attempts to stifle it. So Jaebeom did it for you. He pushed you back, ripping off his shirt and wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pressing himself against you.

His kissed was fevered, hot and heavy against your lips and you lost your breath trying to keep up. But you would try. Your hands traced down his torso, fingertips etching into the lines of definition in his muscles. Traveling down from his chest to his navel, you stopped when they reached his belt, this time you expertly unfastened the buckles, pulling the leather smoothly through his pants loops.

Jaebeom pulled away, lifted his hand to your cheek and gazed into your eyes. For the first time there was no fear, no apprehension. Only happiness. Only love. Smoothing his thumb over your cheek, he bit his lips before they parted to speak.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything in my entire life.” With your eager permission, Jaebeom pressed a hand into your back and lowered you to the floor. Gliding his fingertips down the sides of your body, you shivered ardently at his touch. His fingers looped under the waistband of your shorts and slowly pulled them down your legs.

You watched his eyes drink you in, a dry swallow travelling down his throat at the magnificence of you. Biting your lip, he caught the hunger in your eyes and it lit a raging fire within him. Undoing the button of his pants, he pulled down the zip, then pushed his pants down his thighs before lowering onto you. Pressing his chest against yours, you could feel his heartbeat against your skin; it synchronizing with yours.

Sliding his hand between your legs, he found himself, eager and ready and kissed you before he moved. Entering you slowly, he kept his lips pressed against yours as you heaved in a breath. Arching your back off the floor, his body provided the ceiling you needed to hold yourself together. Jaebeom kissed you, over and over again; drawing whimpered moans to spill out of your mouth as he rolled his hips against you.

Your hands found purchase in his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. One hand holding himself up as the other cupped your cheek, Jaebeom could feel his control unraveling as he buried himself inside you. Bodies bound together, your teeth grazed along his shoulder while his mouth wrote words of adoration into your neck.

The coil inside you was tightening, ready to snap and Jaebeom knew it with the way your nails were digging into his skin and how his name tumbled breathless off your lips. Snaking his hands under you, Jaebeom pulled you up into his embrace as he drove deep inside you. An intense wave of pleasure crashed over you; your body shaking in his arms as euphoria surged through your veins.

Jaebeom’s control completely unraveled, all his wanting spilling out as he quivered; lips latched onto your shoulder, mewling against the softness of your skin. Holding the embrace, your fingertips traced down his spine; you kissed his neck and he released his hold to let himself look at you.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Unwrapping your legs from his waist, you shuffled back to press your lips to his before shuffling to your feet to stand. “I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing his shirt off the floor, you slipped it on; Jaebeom powerless against the smile digging into his cheeks at the sight. Gone for only a few seconds, you returned with a towel; handing it to Jaebeom to clean himself up.

Pulling back on his underwear as you slipped back into your shorts, Jaebeom’s phone buzzed on the table. The sound making both your faces freeze before crumpling in amusement.

“I wonder if that’s Jinyoung.” You jeered.

“It better not be.” Jaebeom snarled, reaching above him to find his phone. Kneeling across from him, you watched his slender fingers swipe across the screen to take the call.

“Oh, Hyung?” His manager, made sense.

“Oh, it’s all clear?...Yeh, yeh I’m fine… We’re fine.” Jaebeom smiled gently as his other hand reached forward to caress your cheek; fondly letting you tip your face to rest it in his palm.

“No, no thank you… Okay, bye.” Placing his phone on the floor, he opened his arms to let you crawl forward onto his lap. Kissing his forehead, you leant back to look at his perfect face; perfect in knowing that behind those deep and magical eyes, was the man you loved. The man who loved you just as intensely in return.

Jaebeom’s arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his embrace soaking into your skin and you felt at peace. Completely content. Indescribably happy. Absolutely in love. You both held the embrace in comfortable silence, there was no more need for words. Though you, with all your naive charm, somehow found something to say.

“Work’s going to be weird on Monday, isn't it?” Jaebeom kissed your chin, then your lips, then the tip of your nose before stopping to stare into your eyes.

“Well it’s a good thing all the closets have locks…”

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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February 12th-February 18th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from February 12th, 2020 to February 18th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

When applicable, what about a creator’s art might convince you to check out their comic?

carcarchu

I like a wide range of art styles so it's hard to pinpoint specifics but if an artist is able to draw very attractive looking characters (recognizable character designs, outfits that don't look like they came out of 2004 gap catalogue, characters that can still be recognized even when they change their hair style) then i find that very appealing. beyond that how well an artist can integrate the characters with the actual space they exist in is something i find very important as well. a bunch of floating heads can only carry a series so far. if the artist can make the characters feel like they properly exist in the space i think it can really elevate the series although in practice this is something very difficult to do.

Deo101 [Millennium]

For me, honestly some art styles are very inspiring to me and that will sometimes get me to read just because I want to see the art more and learn from it. Things like textures, colors, character design... It can draw me in just by exciting me as a learning opportunity

chalcara

For me art‘s the hook and story the line. Come for the art, stay for the story, you know?

Funnily I‘m looking less for pretty art and more for good visual story telling. I want the art to show whats going on without having to rely on dialogue.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I'm honestly very picky about art styles when it comes to comics, and that's a personal issue It has some to do with art styles being attractive to me, but honestly, the most important aspects of a creator's style to me are (1) consistency of style and anatomy, (2) level of completion, and (3) clear communication of what's happening. When it comes to whether or not I check out the comic initially, the main things that come into play with the promotional materials, covers, and/or thumbnails are contrast of the image and cleanness of the rendering. Of course, obviously, my personal tastes play into it. (I tend to like semi-realistic styles, sort of anime-ish but with a twist, or painted styles that may resemble concept art.) But honestly, probably more important than grabbing me initially to begin reading is readership retention. And that's where the 3 qualities I look for come into play: (1) Consistency of style and anatomy: This is probably the most important part for me as a reader. If I can't tell who is who because the characters change appearance from panel to panel, I'm ducking out, because that affects the clarity of storytelling. I also cringe everytime I see a particularly egregious anatomy error. I know what people look like. I see them every day. If I feel pain from looking at an artist's work, I'm not sticking around. (To be fair, everyone makes some kind of anatomy mistakes, but really it's if the anatomy mistakes are really awful to me and aren't as a result of a deliberate style CHOICE. Keyword, C H O I C E.) (2) Level of completion: This really just means that if it looks like the artist rushed through the panels or they were being lazy, I feel like their comic isn't worth my time. I mean, if an artist themselves doesn't care about their work, why should I?(edited)

. (3) Clear communication of what's happening: Once again clarity of storytelling is absolutely essential. If the composition of a large portion of the panels don't clearly show the actions of the characters, I can't follow the story. Aaaaaand as a bonus: Please, please, for the love of all powers that be, please, make your fonts legible. If I can't read the comic without squinting because your text is too tiny or hard to read, I'm not going to try. I have bad eyesight as it is. Take pity on your readers. I'm not going to suffer for your work. I have dropped far too many comics to count because the creator didn't care enough to make sure that the font was legible. And this applies to both desktop view, mobile view, scrolling format, and page to page format. Just.... Make your fonts big and clear.(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That's interesting to think about how recognizable characters are when their hair style changes. I might try to use that as a character building exercise

Deo101 [Millennium]

Solid excercise: can you tell them all apart when they're bald and naked?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

OoooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHH

Might partake that challenge

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also it's really fun to draw characters in all sorts of hair and clothes so idk what id do if I couldn't tell them apart when doing that!!! That's like 40% of my art!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

This just convinces me more and more to do AU art

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah aus are another 20% of what i draw LOL

Look im drawing the comic most of the time so I wish to partake in non canon things the rest

carcarchu

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) i've read series before where the character gets a hair cut / dyes it and i'm like WHO ARE YOU? IS THIS A NEW CHARACTER?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh another good excercise is drawing your Characters in many different styles and seeing if they remain unique when not in yours.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I want to do all of this

This is stuff I hardly ever have time for

So I am extra attracted to it

Also, there IS a time later in the comic where a certain character's hair gets partially burned off

And then he cuts it pretty short to get rid of the singed edges

And I feel like his hair is like 80% of his character design

So I'm just a little scared about that

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also, @Cronaj (Whispers of the Past) , I am unsure what you mean by "readership retention" with something that makes you interested in a comic, could you explain?(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

By readership retention, I mean aspects of the art that decide whether I'll continue reading past the first few pages

(obviously story comes into play as well, but I won't pretend that the art in the first few pages of a comic don't contribute)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh okay, I thought you meant like how many readers have unfollowed or something

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Nah

More like, "oh cool! Your cover and blurb seem interesting. Lemme check out the comic!"

And then after reading the first few pages/chapter:

"ah... Not for me." Or "Nice, I'll keep reading!"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Gotcha

Capitania do Azar

Ohh I don't feel like dissing particular artsyle choices, but I know a few aren't for me. I'm no big fan of ultra realistic, hyper detailed stuff you usually see in super hero comics (other genres pick that style too sometimes and I still don't really appreciate). I particularly like artstyles that are distinct and recognizable, I have a hard time with stuff from different authors that just looks... Like a carbon copy (sometimes, the style being referenced is waaay too obvious and that is always a big no for me) Good use of color is key. Give me some good values too. I want colors to make sense and I am very tired of pink. I also appreciate consistency. If you give me artwork with a more paintery style but then the comic is cellshaded, that might tip me off. But not necessarily (tho I appreciate inner consistency inside the comic itself). Rushed stuff, like mentioned above, is also not a good look, but only insofar as it distracts me from what's happening in the story. Consistency is a very important word here, because I love seeing a common line that is able to take in all the differences that are necessary in character design and backgrounds, but also make me believe that they all could live in the same world.

Oh! And also: if the artstyle involves using lineart, I am really fond of sharp, clear lines with weight variation

sagaholmgaard

I'm curious about what you guys mean with consistency- do you guys not like if an artist's art style changes over the several years it might take to make a finished webcomic? Is it that it peeves you when the backgrounds are done in, say, a painterly style while the characters are done with lineart? Is it when the artists makes ordinary illustration work in a completely different style from their comic pages? (This is genuine curiosity I hope no one's feeling attacked rn ^^)

carcarchu

i personally really like seeing an artist's skills improve and evolve over the many years it takes to draw a series

even at the expense of a more "consistent" final product

sagaholmgaard

Yeah me too, it's one thing i really like about webcomics

chalcara

Can‘t talk about the others, but I get thrown off when one page is sprite comic, the next painterly, third cell-shaded without having a in-story-reasons for those style changes, like flashbacks or pov-changes. But more commonly, the issue’s the classic „comic‘s usually coloured, but oops, this time you only get the pencils because I had no time to update“. If that happens too often and/or doesn‘t get fixed for the archive I just lose investment in the comic.

Art evolution is natural, both in webcomic and published work with a dedicated artist.

Ah, that‘s another source of inconsistency - people switching colourists or even artists around. Once in a while is fine, but if it happens every month or so, I tend to get annoyed by it. It‘s actually why I killed my first webcomic twenty years ago; it was a collaberation and life kept getting in the way forcing me to switch colourists every five pages or so.

carcarchu

oh actually i have read a webcomic where they changed artist's 18 chapters in. i really fell in love with the magical and dark tone of the original artist and was engrossed in the world that they set up. they had a painterly style and it really set the atmosphere of the entire series but then the new artist had a super clean and cutesy art style and the sudden tonal shift really threw me off. in the long run the new artist was actually extremely consistent and better at actually releasing long chapters and very good quality chapters and the writing actually improved too because of it but it was never able to recapture what it was that i really loved about the original art style. also the new artist changed the character designs a little so the heroine was no longer even recognizable as the same person

since it was relatively early in the series i definitely would have preferred if they just got the new artist to actually redraw the first 18 chapters in the new style just so the change wouldnt be so incredibly jarring

chalcara

Any harsh breaks like that will cause some people to break away from the comic, I found. I dumped one of my favourite-for-years comic because the creator got bored by their main character and completely sidelined her in favour of a group of minor characters I had absolutely no interest in.

Didn‘t mean the comic got worse - by all accounts its still beloved by quite a sizable audience - it just wasn‘t for me anymore.

sagaholmgaard

Ahh that I can relate to. I get super attached to the main character and usually have a hard time getting into any spinoffs with the rest of the cast, even if I want to (and im a hypocrite because i also want to make spinoffs for ever side character in my own comic LOL) i guess if the style changed a LOT from page to page that would throw me off too. that feels like the artist is trying to experiment, maybe making sort comedic comic strips would be more acceptable then? Every style would at least be contained to one strip at least

DanitheCarutor

That's... actually a really good question. I don't really go for a specific aesthetic. Sometimes what's going on in the thumbnail attracts me, or it could be the use of color, the style, a character design. I'll check out a comic with just about any art style. I guess maybe if I have an idea of what the creator is going for with their art? Like, the art may have a lot of kinks, but maybe being able to tell what style they're trying to go for makes me want to check out their work? Honestly, I don't have a really strong art bias, as long as the comic is readable I'll go for almost anything. Maybe I won't check something out if the style looks extremely uninspired... like if it were the most generic, based off Japanese cartoons, style ever then I might give it a pass. But even then I do sometimes check it out anyway, so I really don't know! This question is surprisingly hard to answer! To give my last quip about last week's topic, since I don't want to derail the current one. I feel the creator's personal life is no one's business. I understand if they're a legit bad person, but digging into a creator's life to see if they qualify to be supported is... I dunno. This mindset makes me feel that if someone who liked my work ever tried to get to know me, they would be doing it solely to see if I'm good enough for them, which feels really invasive and predatory. I fully understand most people can't just enjoy something, that's how the world is, it just kinda sucks sometimes. The world kind sucks sometimes. Alright! I'm doing with giving my final thoughts on that subject.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

The question is specifically about what draws you to art, rather than what turns you away so if you don't want to rag on any art styles that's not what it was asking for I think! Though yes it's very closely related (and it's not bad to say what you don't like)

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I definitely am more likely to read a comic that has a distinctive style - no particular style preferences, really. Interesting use of colour/value is definitely a bonus. But as long as it's engaging and the composition is good/readable, I don't really mind whether the art is "good" or not.

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] I wasn't trying to rag on anything. I couldn't specify what about someone's art would draw me to their comic, it was easier to the one thing that might not, but I still said that I may be drawn in regardless. Sorry if I came off like a douchebag, totally not my intention. <_<'

Deo101 [Millennium]

No I know, someone earlier said "I don't feel like dissi g particular styles" I'll be honest I was typing my post as you were and so I didn't even read yours til after I said something(edited)

Just kind of a general thing! Feels like it went to what turns us away instead of what draws us in so just kinda a reminder of the op

sagaholmgaard

Readability is definitely important for me to want to continue following a comic, but what about the art that makes me want to read something...? I definitely have a preference toward cartoony styles overall. A solid character design will make me wanna check out a comic. If the main character has a recognizable silhouette and interesting shape language. I also love really bold lineart, especially if it's used to create shadow and contrast. Interesting color schemes too. I think how the background is drawn can really make me want to read something as well. I know BGs aren't people's favorite thing to draw but to me if the setting looks very well though out and designed, that definitely motivates me to check something out. And awe-inspiring sceneries are always hella cool! I read a lot of things outside of my artistic preferences though, but I think these are the things that might make me pick something up based only on the art itself.

keii4ii

I think I tend to find more appeal in certain compositions, which is a more subtle aspect of style. I am a major sucker for evocative use of backshots/ not-showing-the-(whole)-face, for one thing. Compositions that make full use of the three dimensional space around the figure(s) is another (this doesn't necessarily mean putting a lot of stuff around the character; you can have a mostly empty space and still make it feel very 3D).

(I hope both of those things show in my own works... I just love those things soooo much )

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh I LOVE when a panel like... Cuts a face. Something about it makes me lose my mind every time

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] Ooh! Lol sorry about that! I was so caught up with off computer stuff that I didn't notice anything else typing while I was. I haven't read the whole conversation yet, but I can see how it would turn to that. "What draws you in" is a hard topic to stay on. At least I imagine it would be since it's hard for me to talk about.

Ah! I admit I really like shots focused on scale, specifically ones were you can feel how tiny the MC is compared to what the camera is focused on. Does that make sense? Like the panel shows this ginormous thing, and it has the MC in it to show how massive it really is. That's awesome when done right.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Tiny little person. Yes. Very good

DanitheCarutor

Tiny people in giant worlds are the best!

keii4ii

I love those too!

DanitheCarutor

Oh, also this isn't a webcomic, but I've been interested in reading Vinland Saga after seeing this page on Twitter.(edited)

Something about extremely hideous expressions on semi-realistic faces jives with me.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

What draws me in easiest is the design aspect of characters, environment and the webcomic title! It's a bit of a turn off when the title doesn't look polished. That's one of the main draws for me is an intriguingly designed logo with a catchy name that follows through their chosen aesthetic. I've seen many comics that stand apart from the title image they chose and it's a bit jarring to see! Great examples of wonderful execution of these aesthetics are BlackOut City, O'Sarilho, Sink Your HookTeeth and Shadrunners(obvs there are many more) I have to agree with @sagaholmgaard about backgrounds! There are quite a few creators who avoid them and stick to simple colours and gradients that just dont keep me in the comic- though my fave genres include a lot of world building, so BGs in a romance may not be emphasized as much. Lastly, dynamic character design!! I love a wonderfully crafted cast that allows me to read the characters easily no matter what setting or outfit they're in. Also it's really random but i do love an artist who can draw really good shoes?? That is always a draw in for me (edited)

Capitania do Azar

Oh I meant it in the way that if you spend a lot of time experimenting with different styles and techniques, you'll never be good at any of them. Style and approach changing over time is, imo, inevitable and good :) @sagaholmgaard(edited)

@@FeatherNotes(Krispy) I constantly think my logo looks like crap next to other webcomics', so thank you (edited)

DanitheCarutor

Oh god, @FeatherNotes(Krispy). Titles and logos are legit my weakest point, that part of the comic creation process is the worst! I have this cosmic-horror/fantasy comic I've been developing since 2005, and it took me till just last year to come up with a decent title. It'll probably take another 14 years to come up with a passable logo. Lmao!

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

It is really hard! Because that image/logo and name represents the body of work so firmly, its also got to stand strong with what it's representing and stand up to other titles too! Basically, i like to think of something that will help generate top results when i search on google for the title, which to me helps it stand on its own on the web, and sound catchy enough for pitches in person! I don't want to steer the convo away too much from the prompt, but there is definitely more to discuss about titles and their chosen aesthetics

varethane

@DanitheCarutor have you read Golden Kamuy? If you love hilariously hideous expressions in manga, it seems like it may be your jam lol

(it's also set in a specific historical period and contains a lot of really interesting material about the time/place it takes place in)

Also I feel like I have never, even one time in my life, come up with a good title for anything-- both Chirault and Wychwood are placeholder titles that I used just to kinda name the story for myself, which I initially intended to change when something better came along, and then nothing ever did

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I know I'm generally drawn into a comic if it's just... generally a visual feast? And it doesn't even have to be a beautiful feast - just... a feast! A super intriguing artstyle, beautiful or not, is something for my brain to pick apart and enjoy. Detailed backgrounds, intricate costumes, fascinating presentation/layout... all the way to crazy expressions and fun asides, and even some gory or scary bits to make me go EEK. Basically, if I'm reading it, and my hand is twitching with the prospect of drawing fan art, then I'm in for good.

DanitheCarutor

@FeatherNotes(Krispy) Urg that is such a nightmare! And there are only so many different styles you can do for a logo, and so many variations of words, it's like how there aren't any truly original stories anymore. I got lucky with the title for my current comic, it's the most generic thing ever, but fits in a tongue-in-cheek way. @varethane I've never heard of it, but the face compilations I'm seeing are intriguing! Man, I love stupid facial expressions.

Capitania do Azar

@varethane golden kamuy, I see you are a fellow of taste as well

varethane

(I love it so much)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor oh idk about the "only so many things you can do with logos", I've seen amazing things in this world, if there's a limit I'm not seeing it

varethane

(I can always tell exactly when I was binging it because there's a big chunk of my phone's photo gallery that's all screencaps of Asirpa making dumb faces)

Capitania do Azar

@varethane guys shooting each other in the woods? I'm always in for that

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Lol I guess? I can't see how you can have an infinite number of designs for writing, while still trying to keep it vaguely readable. But I really don't like lettering, so my imagination is hardcore lacking in that department.

Capitania do Azar

Lettering and logo design are their own fields of expertise, it's ok

meek

Hmm I'm similar to a lot of previous responses where I can't pinpoint a specific style or trend of art work that draws me in because the styles of comics I read differ incredibly. That being said, there are some things that I do look for to keep me coming back: 1) Consistency of style/anatomy: unless there's a specific reason for the general art style to change (not including semi-deformed or chibi versions of characters), I appreciate characters staying proportionate or just otherwise consistent throughout the comic. And art evolution isn't something that's at odds with consistency, it can actually help that by making characters more distinct and easier to distinguish from each other. 2) Potential for art evolution: Almost the opposite of the previous point lmao but if I find a new comic and I see the latest page is of a much higher skill level than the first page, I'm immediately hooked. I want to see the journey. And I want to see how far that journey goes, even past the point where the art "gets good". There's at least one comic that I can think of where once it hit the style that it wanted to, the art has stayed consistent for the past several years but so much so it's almost plateaued and become stagnant. It's still good art, by all means! But I want to see it grow and evolve more. 3) Good panel/speech layout: Okay it's not quite art in the same sense but someone else mentioned this above and I think it's important too? There are so many comics I can think of that I couldn't read or I dropped off at a point because reading was a chore, either because of giant or unsightly speech bubbles, tiny or ill-fitting font, a combination of the two, etc. Sure, graphic design and layout is a skillset completely different from pure illustration, but it's one worth knowing because otherwise you could do a disservice to your art and your story.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@meek Seriously, the text is so important to me, and I consider it a large part of page layout and design

meek

Agreed!! It's something that bothers me with printed comics all the time. I've tried to read so many "classic" graphic novels and I just.. I can't get past the giant text boxes with small font with miniscule kerning and ESPECIALLY if they then add color to it. Please, keep in mind your readers with reading difficulties But to turn this into a positive One of my favorite things that also helps make a comic feel more personal is when the creator turns their handwriting into a font or otherwise have FUN with the speech bubbles

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

YES. As someone with bad eyesight, typography is one of my favorite aspects of finishing a comic page.

Deo101 [Millennium]

It also is super important for me with ADHD, reading is hard enough as is! so bubble layout and clarity can really bring the whole thing together and elevate a comic

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I tried that but got the feedback that my text is hard to read and the way i format my speech bubbles is distracting (: But some people have said they really like it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Though I do think I could have done better with the font. I have good eyesight and bad handwriting do I think i have a much easier time reading weird text than many. Since you guys care so much about text, would you mind taking a quick glance at my comic and telling me how readable it is? It'd be nice getting feedback from random people as opposed to only my readers who felt strongly enough to leave a comment unprompted

meek

Oh man I have this specific panel in mind from some early 2006 Avengers comic of like.. what not to do Basically it was a bright yellow text box with this white/light blue font. It was just. It was a nightmare to read Oh sure!! Definitely send me a link

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep! Send me a link too! I'd love to help you out

I also have a good typography book to recommend if you're interested. I can drop it into #art_resources(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Here is link: https://www.webtoons.comen/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Thanks for taking the time to give me critique!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

The link's not working, but I can probably find it on Webtoon

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

And I think i dould find a typography book interesting, so yes please do send the link

Sorry, i think the link is missing a slash

Did we both delete the link

Deo101 [Millennium]

did we both delete a

yah

i got it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Thanks

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I found it

(The font is a bit small on mobile, but the font is fine?)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Wait can we move to shop talk?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

(maybe we can have this discussion on shop talk channel? )

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Sure

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

OH LOL

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Oh god, they so are! I envy anyone who enjoys that craft, I'm a lot better than I was, but lettering is still so hard. ;v; At least the fancy stuff is hard, regular speechbubble lettering is easy as long as my hand cooperates.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

There's a book I had to read for a web design course I took, and it is seriously a life saver

It put text in a whole new perspective

DanitheCarutor

I do all my lettering traditionally, but maybe that book would be helpful, I legit hate doing it no matter what medium I use. (sorry for continuing to derail the channel.)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor i used a website that converts handwriting to fonts + font forge for tweaks to get personalised fonts

DanitheCarutor

I used to type bubbles out, and I've thought about it for my current comic but I mix up words and letters really bad, and I forget to add words entirely while typing. It wouldn't be so bad if my brain saw the mistakes while rereading everything, although sometimes it takes a couple days or another set of eyes for me to actually see them. When I write the bubbles in with a pen I make a lot less mistakes since it takes more effort to write out each letter, also my brain can keep better track of the ones I do make. I feel like that's an excuse that makes no sense.

Deo101 [Millennium]

no it totally makes sense

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I can't say I'm ever especially drawn in by art? Besides the sense of "it looks like a lighthearted action story and I like lighthearted action stories", not much catches my eye. Though, I will drop a comic if I'm put off by the art. Like I can forgive if some things look janky at the start of the comic, but if that jankiness doesn't improve over time, I'll drop the comic. I'll also drop the comic if the character designs are bad (i.e. indistinguishable from each other, or in rare cases just too gross to look at). But again, I can't exactly say "good character designs draw me into the comic" because a lot of comic banners/thumbnails don't really show off full character designs.

chalcara

Varied bodytypes are catnip for me. And I like comics with expressive characters over comics that limit expressiveness to keep the characters pretty.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh, definitely agree with that second part. Comics where it looks like everyone has had a ton of Botox is a huge pet peeve of mine

Like, eyebrows are not the only part of the face that can move.

Do more

renieplayerone

Yeah i agree with the janky art thought. I think it helps me follow through the jank if i see that the later pages, the artist has shown growth, and i dont want to force anyone into a "gotta redraw it" loop if thats not something they want (of course everyone has their reasons and theyre also valid af) Ill tend to be more forgiving about the jank if i know its someones first webcomic or first comic in general, because you cant learn how to make comics without actually sitting down and making the dang thing. So yeah, the jank can be a double edged sword(edited)

What super draws me in is comics with a great sense of color. While i love anything vibrant, if the softer watercolors are done well, they're chefs kiss. Prime example of that is Stand Still Stay Silent

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I've been thinking about this question all week and I think I finally boiled my answer down to something short, sweet, and to the point. It's gotta be some kind of spooky and some kind of cute I have a pretty broad range of art styles I like and I definitely also read stuff that doesn't fall under those categories, but I think my favorite stories or artists are some blend of those two things. I don't really have a preference between color and greyscale. Like I definitely love a good color feast comic, but if you know how to use your grey tones or even just black and white well it's just as good for me. Maybe that's also just me trying to justify being mostly a greyscale artist to myself TuT

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

@mariah (rainy day dreams) devils candy would def be up your alley then!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Devil's candy v good

renieplayerone

Devils Candy is amazing

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I love to combination of cute monsters and action also.

DanitheCarutor

@renieplayerone I'm not sure if it fits totally with your preference, but if you're looking for watercolor Lost Honey is gorgeous! https://www.losthoney.com/

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Lost Honey is another great comic great to look at, really interesting world

DanitheCarutor

It's one of my faves! ;v; There is another comic that was half watercolor half digital that I used to love reading (if I remember right pages set in the current time were digital, and backstory stuff was in watercolor.), but it has been discontinued for years now. It was called Toilet Genie/D00R, a comic about a genie who was locked in a public toilet and was awakened by a pug that got thrown out by her owners. It was so pretty, with such an interesting style!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh wow I haven't thought about that comic in 5 years! X'D I didn't read much of it, because I don't think there was much of it available at the time, but yeah, that one was also very pretty (edited)

renieplayerone

Oh those colors are really pretty!!

DanitheCarutor

Right? Lost Honey is total eye candy. @mariah (rainy day dreams) Yeah, it's sad the creator never got to finish it. I think about it every so often since it's one of the extremely rare (semi)watercolor webcomics out there.

Also I'm extra attached to traditional mediums since I work in a traditional medium myself.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Same. Got that ink wash/watercolor bias.

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

My current comic is marker shaded but I so want to do something with ink wash after this one...

DanitheCarutor

Yeah, right now I'm working with color pencils since they're cheap but I want to give gouache or acrylic a try for my next project, depending on which story I do.

Kabocha

Hm, the question is... a lil' challenging to answer. I think in a lot of cases, the art isn't necessarily what gets me, but when it does -- Sometimes it's when someone uses a resource I like/made and I can go "OOOH! I know that thing you used!" Screentones are another one that gets my attention pretty quick. Sparkles... And probably effective spot color use. As much as I enjoy many full color webcomics, there are many that get tiring to try to read for one reason or another (usually it's either a font or a saturation issue - too many similarly saturated colors near one another gets tiring to read). Also, soft coloring. Oooh, just... when the art feels like it ought to be printed on those soft-touch covers... Yeah, that gets my attention. ...and watercolor/inkwash, too. ... okay that's a lot of things that grab my attention, but tl;dr: oh hey look at all that cool stuff that people can do!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

That was part of what was so hard for me thinking about this question cuz really, a lot of things get my attention X') and the more I thought about it the more I was like "I like when a comic is like X, but oh also Y is great and I do really enjoy Z as well!" I just ... like so many things. But I think that's better than being really picky. I've meet some folks that are super picky about art and basically only like one style and I'm just like... you're missing out on so many amazing things!

Kabocha

Right? And heck, even in some comics where the style would normally be unappealing (to me), there's just something about the art and the aesthetic that clicks to make it all work together for that project.(edited)

I do think, though, that there's always going to be a special place in my heart for greyscale or screentoned comics. There's just something about art that knows how to effectively make use of shading and contrast to make their work... well, work for me.

kayotics

Art is probably the first thing that draws me in to read a comic. The top, top tier thing that gets me to pay attention to a comic is really strong inks. I love inking, and unusual inking styles. To those who know me, that's probably incredibly unsurprising. I also love really angular styles. Some other stuff I gravitate towards: cartoony styles, expressive faces, and kind of ugly characters. I enjoy seeing characters that might be described as plain or are drawn in a bit of an ugly way. The last thing that draws me in? Hands. If an art style pays attention to hands, then I'm all for it.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Does a comic have characters with big, crooked, toothy grins? I'm down for the count X'D https://media.tenor.com/images/618576ebcc4f6d2a12438624be77c54f/tenor.gif

varethane

oh hey, did someone mention webcomics done in ink wash/marker?

Chirault was that!

1367 pages of..... ink with greyscale marker..........

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

honestly blows me away that you toned it traditionally like, all of GJS is inked trad, but to ink AND tone in marker is just.....damn

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love ugly characters

RebelVampire

When it comes to art, I'd say there are about four factors that will draw me in. First, readability. Can I visually follow wtf is going on in the comic? I have no interest in the visuals if I can't understand what action characters are taking. So the first point is always for if that is true. Second, character distinguishability. Can I tell one character from another? I am notoriously bad even in real life at being able to tell people apart, so when reading for fun, it's super important to me that I don't have to put a lot of effort into telling characters apart (exceptions for identical twins, of course). Third, personal appeal. Do I think the art is pretty or cute? Like, obviously this is subjective so I can't really put into words why I'd find one style appealing and the other not. But ya know, I like stuff I think is pretty to look at. Fourth, backgrounds. If a creator puts a lot of effort into their background scenery, I'm very sold on it. I love beautiful backgrounds, and the effort put into them give me an overall better impression of the comic as a whole. Since it takes some real passion to take care with backgrounds. All this being said, I'm not much of a stickler for art. If a comic is well-written enough, they can fail all these points and I'll still read it. This is just a list of what aspects have to be in the art for it to draw me in.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My points are pretty much the same as Rebel's, with the addition of a few things: I adore comics with dramatic facial expressions and consistently excellent anatomy. Also, if the art style is unique? If I feel like I've never seen someone draw that way before? That's ++. So good. I've read comics where I thought the art was good but the story was mediocre, but I've never read a comic where the art met all my points (and Rebel's), where it made me go, "holy fuck," audibly, and then had the story disappoint. Comics where the art made me go "holy fuck" audibly: Excecutioner's Academy: The art is so pointy and colorful and detailed and weird. It's full of personality and life and so are the characters. Warning: hiatus comic ): https://tapas.io/series/Ex-Ac Ava's Demon: You guys know about Ava's Demon, right? With original music and animations ending every chapter, this might be the most effortful comic I've ever seen. https://www.avasdemon.com/pages.php#2611 Sfeer Theory: Everyone looks so different from each other, it's fantastic. Some characters are not conventionally beautiful, yet they're still so appealing. And backgrounds! And a thought-out and unique magic system! https://sfeertheory.com/comic/01-00/ Electric Bones: Backgrounds! Banter! http://electricbonescomic.com/index.php/comic/page-001/ I also loved Prague Race, but unfortunately it was cancelled ):

If anyone else has recommendations for comics with amazing art, I'd love to hear them!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

For me, it just has to be an art style I like to attract my attention. I generally like realistic art, stylised art, or pretty much any style that hasn’t been done to death (like generic anime art; much as I love manga, I’m really tired of the over-saturation of bland and soulless anime-inspired art). Pretty much anything unique and well executed will grab my attention. I especially like greyscale and limited palettes.(edited)

And just to clarify, I do like anime-style art when it has expression and/or skill behind it; just not when it looks generic and manufactured. Overall, though, it’s the writing that’s ultimately the most important thing to me in a comic, so I’ll enjoy comics for their writing even if I’m not a fan of the art.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #reader favorites

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definitely-not-an-alb · 6 years ago

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Magical Machines In RoL: A short Round-Up

Shortening because this is long.

There’s a surprising number of magical or mysterious devices we keep encountering:

The Pin in one of the Cat-Girls temple in Moon Over Soho

The Cunning Device in A Rare Book of Cunning Device

Lesley’s Phone-Bomb in The Hanging Tree

“Mary Engine”, (Might be related to Ada Lovelace’s design, as per Peter’s observations, might be some type of early calculator?)

“Some Type of Device” Babbage (Who worked with Lovelace) was working on for the Folly, according to Nightingale

And then there’s Lady Helena’s insistence that her tradition’s Magic Salons go back to Caroline from Ansbach, who, Peter notes, also hung about with one Gottfried Willhelm Leibniz (Who was – hopefully – not a machine, though he did write like he was running out of time and was generally low-key bonkers)

First three are kind of ??? so let’s look at the last three (+) instead

Why the fuck is Leibniz relevant for us?

Now, I’m not one for Great-Man-Histroy, but even I have to admit that Leibniz was, again, kind of off-the-Weird-Genius-charts. If you, say, want a literary or historical counterweight to Isaac Newton in Allsasser-Excentric-Genuis-Bullshit, he’s the man. Literally. Anygays. There are five(ish) things that connect Leibniz to the rest of the RoL Universe;

He’s connected with Caroline from Ansbach, as stated above

He dabbled in alchemy (well, he dabbled in everything)

He got into an academic bitch fight with Isaac Newton (Because either on of them plagiarized the other or they just invented the same Important Math Thing at roughtly the same time – we will never know ~~~)

He either invented the binary code* (aka thing that makes Computers go be-bop) or greatly improved it/anticipated a bunch of logic-probelms with it, depending on who you ask

He revolutionized early calculators by inventing the Leibniz Wheel (aka, the things that made Calculators go shrrrrrrrrrr for 200 years before things got funky and analytical)

(All of this is somewhere between the late 1660s – 1716s) (* same problem of the )

Early Calculators and Leibniz Wheels

(Aka a long and rambly part that you can skip if you don’t want to learn about Fancy Early Tech)

Early Calculators where mostly stuff like fancy modefied Abaci, but in the 1640s this french dude Pascal build an Arithmetic Machine, which used interlockign wheels to do what it says on the tin crunch numbers. This machine was both very cool and very suck-tastic; it could do math for you (yay); But it was also super expensive, hard to transport, harder to build, even harder to opperate and therefore prone to human error (boo). It was also limited to addition an subtraction. It didn’t really catch on.

Along comes Leibniz and designes the Leibniz Wheel (which, unlike the A.M.’s wheels, which needed 10 rotations per single digit, only needed a single rotation for any operation involving a single-digit number and could, in conjunction with other Leibniz wheels, carry over into higher digits more easily. He used it to build the first really usable Calculator(s). This Stepped Reckoner (which is what you get when you badly translate Stufenrechner) was easier to operate and it could perform all four basic operations. You could actually use it. Or, as this book puts it:

“The demand for Leibniz’s machines was largely for it’s help in calculating tables of common mathematical functions. In the seventeenth century producing one of these tables might have been a lifes’s work.”

Just, in case you wanted to know how rad people thought this was.

Here’s a link to a video of an animated Leibniz Wheel in use.

Babbage’s Difference Engine and Analytical Engine

Babbage’s Difference Engine (1820s/30s) and Analytical Engine (1830s), genreally considered the ‘first computer’ if they’d actually build it, was basically the attempt to stack as many Leibniz Wheel-ish Wheels (they used a variation, btu it‘s afaik the same concept) as possible on top of each other and operate them all simultaneously by using the technology of Joseph Marie Jacquard’s “programmable” Loom (invented around 1800, uses Punchcards to weave different & complex patterns) to brute-force complex mathematical problems.

The Difference Engine was supposed to use this system to calculate and print mathematical tables. It was supposed to be able to calculate polynoms and use sinus and cosinus and such (!!! I know that sounds easy when we all have a graphical calculator lying around at home like a useless math brick, but this is so cool!)

The Analytical Engine was a step up from this, as it should have functioned without human intervention and was upposed to be fully programmable. It even had something like 10 kB memory space. It was a computer, is what it is.

Now, Ada Lovelace took one long look at that and went “well, clearly this isn’t cool enough yet” because she was born a Byron and Just That Extra. She was also apparently called the Enchantress of Numbers by Babbage ... just ... like ... maybe ... okay.

Anyways, Ada, while trying to explain what the fuck this thing was supposed to do to the general science public, casually invented the analytical computer program. As you do. As you fucking do.

(Still using this book as well as this book btw)

To make this clear: Babbage is that one kid who’s always finished first in Math Class because he actually knows how to make tht Unloved Math Brick Of Ugh do what he wants; Ada is that kid who wrote her own game for her Math Brick, hasn’t payed attention since Grade 6 and is currently reading a college-level informatic book under the table. In the first row, Isaac and Gottfried are throwing chalk at each other. Well, you get what I mean.

The Mary Engine

The Mary Engine is produced in the 1840s and is small enough to fit into the store room’s shelves. It’s not a Differentiation or an Analytical Engine, and probably also not a Stepped Reckoner.

But. This thing is actually incredible. The Mary Engine is TINY.

Babbage never finished either Engine. They only build on around 1900 iirr. Second off, the Engines where fuck off huge. Things the size of the Mary Engine really only came around in the early 1900 or so. ‘Enigmas’ (aka Rotor-Crypto-Machines, which are way less complex then actual calculators), while ‘invented’ shortly after WWI all over the world, only became small enough to be moved comfortably on-person during WWII. How the fuck did they get the Mary Engine that small in the 1840s?

If there’s anything I’m missing (or that I’ve gotten horribly wrong, because I’m a computer noob in the end) hit me up so that I can amend this thing. I don’t really have a Grand Fandom Theory or anything. This is just a list (+ minor explanations) of Cool Stuff. A lot of people probably already know this stuff, but I had fun writing this and it might bring people who weren’t raised in Leibniz-Central up to speed somewhat.

Now, another thing, because someone pointed it out a while ago (and I can’t! Believe! I didn’t make that connection!); Linden-Limmer. I really should have seen that one: I fucking live here. So: Hannover, Germany is kind of a bonkers town.

#Rivers of London #meta #idk if anyone actually cares #but this has been in my drafts for ages #and i can't even properly check it anymore because i've read it so often #ugh

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abundantchewtoys · 6 years ago

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HS Epi: Meat p11 reaction

Is the resolution of the Masterpiece really going to fall in between pages about Jane & Jake's fake date?

Maybe not. Maybe we'll see something from John's perspective first, inside the house juju. Giving himself the retcon powers. Coming to terms about some things. But I suspect he won't be able to contact anyone. At least, it would surprise (and entice!) me if someone contacted him while he's hidden away so remotely in there... Speaking of contact, how did John intend to have read anything inside the juju without his glasses or contacts? You can only spend so much time squinting.

I also wonder what they'll do when they're let out. I mean, they haven't become any better at fighting, and LE has. John won't zap his friends, Vriska and Davepetasprite^2 away to confer in a more secure location, right? Assuming he still has his retcon powers by the end of his stay in the house juju.

---

"That’s that, you think. Your glasses are broken forever, and you totally fucked up and underestimated young Lord English. Rose should have known better than to trust this to you alone." Well, I guess having a mental breakdown is one way to pass the time. I'd rather he had some sort of breakthrough instead, though. As for the glasses... Maybe a non-final death will restore them? Or by ascending to his Ultimate Self god tier. Whatever that'd do to his personality...

"Rose, Rose... your smart, amazing friend Rose, you can almost hear her voice now.

> Listen closer, jackass." ... Ah, so Reload Rose and the others can still talk. Their jails neighbour each other after all - they represent the four blocks of the house - but I didn't think it'd be enough for them to confer. Though, I rather think they're limited in what they can do in here, right? Unless... Unless by being in the house juju, they can influence some things inside the plot, still put some things in place so some time loops are fulfilled and stuff is prepared for bringing down LE!

Pretty sure they're barred, narratively, from performing a jail break, though. :P

Ya know, I've talked about the sentiments behind the narrative prompts before, and I just now realized that the kind of intruisive, inflammable language they use are a throwback to Homestuck's narration, since now that we have this POV-type story, the language there in is more shaped towards the person in question.

"You’ve only realized right now that your cell has walls, because it’s awfully bright in here. It’s so white that nothing in the cell is casting a shadow. Looking around, you realize there is no apparent source to all this bright light, making it hard to tell where the floor ends and the walls begin." Oh, I figured it was dark for him, but yeah, the house is white. Maybe the jail cell looks to each as what their idea of being imprisoned in a house-shaped object should be like, and proportions of the space go to match that? Hence why John can't yet tell the floor from the walls, he's got only an inkling of an idea. :P

"JOHN: yeah, i’m here. ROSE: Oh, thank goodness. Everyone’s accounted for then." Hah, John spaced out while the others reconnected. Nice. I'm interested to see what ideas Rose will bring to the table.

So it all comes back to four kids, standing idly in separate rooms, huh. :P

"Are you okay? JOHN: what? ROSE: Are you OKAY?" Okay, either the walls muffle the sound of John is like "this situation does not warrant the use of the word 'okay', rose. 'okay' is definitely not how i would describe us being right now."

"JOHN: i think so. i can barely hear you though.

You can hear a thud from Rose’s corner, like someone slumping against the wall in relief. Well, that’s what you’re doing at least." That's pretty much all she needed to hear right now.

"DAVE: this is kinda dorky to say out loud but i dont DAVE: feel... time" ... They're cut off from all their aspects now, are they? That'd just make them ordinary people. :/ Or maybe it's in reference to time outside of the juju passing way faster, relatively.

"DAVE: thats not just me right you guys feel it too DAVE: or dont JADE: yeah JADE: i mean theres obviously space inside this box but i cant do ANYTHING JADE: its like im blind" ... Okay, so I'm left to wonder. Would the egg sword and Jade's First Guardian powers still be usable? I'm assuming Dave had it out, so even if their sylladexes are inaccessible they might be able to do something.

"The noise outside the juju grows. Something sharp and metallic splinters above and rains down on the top of the chest." That isn't something to do with the pirate party finding the chest in the dreambubbles... So then, what? Did the B2 kids do something with the chest after exiling (excorcising? ... INcorcising?) Caliborn into Lil Cal?

Blaperile has a good point. Do all the soul splices inside Lil Cal experience this in the same way? ... Do all the soul splices in LORD ENGLISH experience this in the same way?? In the sense that the mobster is just a prison they can't escape or influence?

"ROSE: What did my future self say it was we had to do? JOHN: erm... she never rea—" Oh this is going to be so embarrassing.

"The metallic noises rain down harder, drowning out Rose’s attempt at being loud." ... It's that the noises are metallic, otherwise I was almost beginning to think it was more like the white noise. And that would have made me think of the Scratch. That would sure be something though, if the B2 kids initiated a Scratch of Caliborn's session. Actually, what if that was how Alternate Calliope's timeline came to be...

"JOHN: NOW I CAN’T HEAR YOU! JADE: TRY USING LESS WORDS

The length of the silence coming from Rose’s corner communicates just how difficult a task that is for her." Pfffffffff. Incoming character development for Rose: being concise.

"JADE: WHAT????? JOHN: I KNOW IT’S ALL A BIT ABSTRACT, BUT... JADE: NO, I JUST CAN’T HEAR YOU! DAVE: JOHN YOU SUCK AT YELLING JOHN: UGH!" Pfffff, I thought John would be better at yelling coherently, being Karkat's counterpole. ... Blaperile points out the similarity with Karkat sucking at whispering. XD

"Now you understand defeating young Lord English was never supposed to happen. Not the way Adult Rose was implying it would. You surmise the other four teens remaining outside the juju were the ones meant to be tasked with his defeat." It just sucks that John has to come to these admittedly wrong decisions by himself and couldn't have been given more information to work with.

"And judging from the cacophony still emanating from beyond the walls of this house and its confining chest, they are taking the task seriously." Okay, so the B2 kids' fight is still going on. Still unsure what the metal sounds could be about though. Aside from Dirk hacking at the chest with his unbreakable katana.

"But what does this mean for the four of you?" John, don't lose hope, you said it yourself, you'll be unloaded... some time.

"You try to picture what’s going on in the battle outside, but it’s not easy.

> Use your imagination." Of course, the house juju's powers run on imagination! :P No, wait, he's just going to give us his idea of the proceedings of the rest of the Masterpiece. Sadly, he doesn't have any clay at hand. :P

"The coolness of the action in your mind’s eye is belied by the actual sound effects booming all around you, which you can only describe as vaguely stupid." Welp, guess the bar of wedgies is still being cleared only marginally.

"There’s a lot of hysterical screaming, which, if you’re not mistaken, is coming exclusively from the male combatants. ... Well, Dirk IS living and breathing anime. :P

"Almost as if an outrageous bubble of pure Hope were enveloping the stage, is how you would describe it if you didn’t mind sounding ridiculous." Hah, John still doesn't believe in the application of Hope.

"Then you hear... it can’t be. Horses?? No, not simple horses of flesh and bone. These horses are metal, if we’re to believe they’re horses at all." Oh! Right, Arquiusprite summoned those Metalhoofs. Well, that's what I picture they were, Caliborn represented them with metal horse figures... But perhaps he even created robo-centaur butlers and the like. *shivers*

"You figure no one will ever truly know what’s happening out there. You doubt anyone would even be able to handle how incredible the raw, unfiltered account of this teen brawl actually was, so it’s probably for the best." Welp, and we were doing so well just now. :P Eh, it seems the battle unfolded pretty much exactly as foretold, only with some of the more stupid details removed, curtousy of Caliborn's impatience with stupidity. Which in this case might not have been entirely bad. :P

"you overhear Dave from one of the rooms below you, raising his voice to speak to either you or someone else." Right, they are not all on the same level, since it's a house-shaped prison. Uh, but wasn't Dave supposed to be in the part of the house with the extra window? It's been too long, I probably misremember. Oh, wait, yeah, they went through the fourth wall via one of the bottom panes, and it stood for Dave. Never mind.

"Once more you ruefully reflect on these teen versions of your friends, and all the questions they must have for you. For each other. What would you even say to them?" The responsibilities of an adult, John never expected they'd be this hard. He must be growing more appreciative of what his Dad went through with him without even knowing it.

"You’re not even sure you could handle it, if you were Teen John. You’d have too many follow-up questions, which Adult John is in no way prepared to answer." Still, I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one between Johns. A John-on-John, I suppose. In a serious way, nothing from the animes.

"Would you tell them about Terezi..." Oooh, does he suddenly get an idea, thinking of Terezi? Can't say I think they can do anything to contact her from inside here. Hmm, but earlier, Blaperile thought about what the B2 kids could do with the juju chest, whether they might try to get the others out. That's assuming Caliborn didn't captchalogue the thing, though. Still, it would be something if they could defy what's been foretold and unload the house early, maybe load it with a real surprise for LE.

"For some reason her name feels like nails in your heart. Makes sense, you guess, cause there’s a lot of sharp letters in it. She had sharp teeth too, and sharp elbows. Sharp words." Ahhhh, so we get to see what black romance feels like to John. Looking pretty sharp, apparently. Still, her sharp intellect could've come in handy here. It's a good thing chances are good they'll meet again, I'm sure post-victory Terezi has an important role to play yet.

"Terezi Pyrope was a sharp girl, and maybe what these sharp feelings are trying to tell you is you miss her more than you realized." Well, John has already acknowledged his feelings about Roxy, guess it's time for the other side of the two-headed coin now.

"She wouldn’t have let you neglect relationships with certain friends for so long that you missed whole chapters of their lives. She wouldn’t have put up with you moping around with the salamanders for so long. She would have kicked your ass for being such a loser about everything. She would have poked you in the forehead and called you insufferably lame and told you to pick up the damn phone. You would have called her a weirdo and pretended you hated it, and maybe you would even have believed you hated it. But now, sitting here in this little white cubicle, contemplating your regrets, you don’t think you’d have hated it much at all.

Would you tell the teens that?" Oooh. Very good point, actually. Even if John really only knows that version of Terezi from talking to her on two separate days separate by three years, she had a real impact on him. Granted, they also kept contact on WhatsApp as well in Universe C, but during the session was when their interactions bloomed. It'd probably be a stretch for Meat to end with John retconning the post-victory timeline to include Terezi on Earth, with him, right? After they defeat Lord English first, of course. Oh, right, she was there for two years before leaving... somehow. I kind of forgot. Still, five years would've made a difference in where John ended up by the start of the epilogues.

"JOHN: am i... depressed??" ... Well. Well, as far as growing self-awareness goes, this might be a very big development! Yes, it does seem that John has become listless on Earth C. Mostly it seemed to have to do with the absence of his Dad. But maybe he'll have other ideas about that, like his misfortune in matters romantic.

"as it turns out, you are really fucking depressed. You’re just a giant, wet meat sack of self-involved misery, and all that big, wet, meaty ooze drips out your mouth every time you open it. All the time and space in the world isn’t making it better. It’s something you should have been doing for yourself, instead of waiting around for things to get better." Wow, John. I suppose things will get a little harder for him, now that he's realized this about himself, but I hope he'll find a way soon out of this mess. And so, that's what he's been doing on Earth C, just waiting for things to get better. And no-one picked up on it, not even the other people close to him that bordered on depression before? Like Jade? He really alienated himself...

"Well, screw waiting! It’s boring as hell! You are JOHN EGBERT, after all, immortal CREATOR OF WORLDS, the one and only man ever to completely transcend the partitions of CANON ITSELF. You’ve got these powers, remember?" Well THAT's a sudden surge of RESOLVE if I've ever seen one!

"You hold up your hands and form a rectangle with your fingers and reach outside yourself, outside canon, to the place your retcon powers come from. You focus. You strain. You contemplate with all your might a place you can zap to, any place but here." There's no place like home, there's no place like home! :p Kind of wondering if he'll succeed though. He might be cut off from his powers. But if not, canon is his oyster.

"You wait. And wait. And wait and...

Nothing happens.

You slump back down against the wall" Welp! He tried.

"JOHN: THE ONLY WAY OUT OF HERE... JOHN: IS FOR US TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE TO LET US OUT. JOHN: SORRY GUYS. ROSE: OH." Anyone up for a game of "I see I see what you can't see"?

"JOHN: ALSO... JOHN: I THINK I MIGHT HAVE DEPRESSION?" Well, at least they won't have a lack of stuff to be talking, sorry, yelling about. Rose might be partially delighted to pick at the brains of an adult John, in fact.

#homestuck #upd8 #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #reaction #spoiler alert #john egbert

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meggannn · 6 years ago

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LOL YOUR ROOMMATE?? I can't stop laughing omg

god did i ever share the full story of what happened with my housemate last year? i think i bitched about her a little bit but here’s the full write-up of my six months with that housemate. unedited and probably full of errors and discrepancies sorry cause im going off entirely from memory

i’ve now moved out of this apartment, but i was there for a year with three other girls. two of them i got along with fine, and we introduced ourselves to each other before we moved in because that’s common courtesy to see if we get along right? but basically before any of us could talk or interview candidates for the last spot in the apartment, this girl, i’m making up a name and calling her emily, this random girl named emily basically came in and signed on for the spot on the lease without talking to any of us. uh, okay? so we eventually all get in a group chat and talk and introduce ourselves and plan to move in. day one: emily moved in before me and i moved in a few hours later. i walk in and see the kitchen and she’s already covered the fridge with magnets and pictures and paper clippings featuring…. herself. like, a few of them had her friends, but most of the pictures were of her. basically. am i crazy or is that fucking weird? so from the get-go she just seemed……. if not privileged (which i also knew she was later), then definitely some sort of weird type of entitled but i couldn’t tell if it was maybe just cultural differences? (she was russian but had grown up in the states. idk)

anyway. she had this boyfriend who would come over occasionally, it was no problem since we didn’t talk and just waved hi to each other occasionally. but from the first week she and another housemate who lived on the far end of the apartment were both having trouble sleeping because someone else on the floor was blaring their tv loudly all hours of the night in the room next door. after several weeks of not being able to sleep through the night, they’d pretty much had enough and managed to track down whose apartment it was, and it turned out to be this elderly black woman’s apartment. i don’t really know if the woman understood why they were so upset because i think she might have been going slightly senile as well, so i think maybe the tv, or the volume, was something she wasn’t entirely aware she was doing? but the other housemate, i’ll call her veronica (who is more chill but was still upset) understood that this was probably not a fight they wanted to pick. veronica noticed that the elderly woman had a middle-aged male visitor, who looked like family, come visit the woman a few times a week and take care of her/take out the trash etc, so veronica decided to wait until she saw the visitor again to talk to him about lowering the volume or turning the tv off, or maybe getting his relative headphones or something. but emily, like….. kept pushing it every single night. every single night for the first month or so she’d stomp across the floor and rap on the door loud enough to wake up the entire floor (the walls were thin and it wasn’t a big building). and most of the time the woman didn’t respond, but there was one notable time someone else got fed up enough to wake up at 2am and yell at emily (deservedly so) for waking up the whole hall. all of which i heard very clearly because my room was next to the main door to out apt.

things escalated when i overheard emily talking to her friend on the phone about the situation and then she mentioned that in retaliation, she went over in the middle of the night and put vaseline on the woman’s door handle. i was kind of stunned and disgusted that a grown ass adult (she’s at least a few years older than me, i’d guess late 20′s/early 30′s?) would do something like that???? but anyway a few nights later iirc, once again in the middle of the night, i was woken up by a shouting match down the hall because apparently the male relative had come back to check in on who he said was his mother, and HE WAS PISSED, UNDERSTANDABLY SO, AT FINDING MY ROOMMATE IN THE MIDDLE OF PUTTING VASELINE ON THE FLOOR CREVICE UNDER THE DOOR. LIKE. THAT’S NOT JUST PETTY BUT REAL FUCKING DANGEROUS TO DO TO AN ELDERLY WOMAN. he basically shouted at her and she kept talking about how she can’t sleep for months because of the noise, and whatever, but she stomped back to our apartment and they had this argument loudly at the door (remember, my room was right next to the front door). i listened to it for a couple minutes wondering if she would like, acknowledge what she did was wrong? and it became clear that she was so focused on the noise she wasn’t listening to this dude, so i came out and i tried to be a voice of reason. the guy was understandably really pissed that she would do something like that and i apologized for her and said she was wrong to do that (she had stomped off back to her room meanwhile) and he seemed grateful to talk to someone who wasn’t batshit crazy in the meantime so he mentioned that he had grown up in this building all his life before moving out so it hurt to see someone treat his mother this way who had lived here for 50 years or something. and after that i was just thinking like, jesus, this is so not the kind of fight you want to have with a family like this as a white woman in a gentrified apartment complex. like at some point you need to realize this is not your fucking place and if you must settle things, do it civilly or just dip out entirely.

i think emily eventually apologized and he accepted and they found out that the tv wasn’t even coming from the woman’s room at all, but from someone on the floor above who THEY also had had problems with for months.

veronica was away on a trip i think during this climax, but before, while it was still escalating, i was talking with veronica and veronica mentioned she and emily had bitched about the noise to each other often, but veronica said she drew the line when emily basically started making her complaints race-themed ever since she found out the elderly woman was black. etc the complaints turned from “it’s too loud” to “this neighborhood is so ghetto” and “that’s what black ppl are like” and stuff like that. veronica wasn’t cool with that, so she planned on handling any other complaints herself directly so she could resolve things like a normal person, but ever since veronica mentioned that i knew emily was a pos

emily also complained about people partying/drinking on the street outside till ~11pm, which imo isn’t too unreasonable, like normal people do, and basically being too loud or whatever. on some level i get it cause she had to go to sleep early to go to work early, but also at some point i was just wondering how she functioned as a human being in the real world

ANYWAY THE STORY I TELL AT PARTIES IS THIS ONE, THE ONE IN WHICH SHE LEAVES (i will try to keep this as short as possible while still giving you all the details you need to understand just how fucking weird it was):

in early november, emily group messaged everyone asking if her boyfriend could come live with us. to her credit she said she wouldn’t do it unless everyone was ok, and she waited to hear back from all of us. i was out of town at the time but i remember being really put off by this idea and i was going to say no, when i noticed that my two other housemates had ALREADY said yes in the chat. just like that. i was stunned. what? like, no follow-up questions or “we dont even really know him” or “how is this gonna work”? were they fucking insane?

i messaged her privately saying i really wasn’t comfortable with it, for xyz reasons. among those being 1) rent, because nowhere did she offer to split the rent five ways instead of four (they were basically going to split her room between them, which, no). 2) fridge/living space, which was small enough with four people to one apartment as it is, and 3) just overall “i dont fucking know him” atmosphere. she messaged back saying she understood, and i got to asking why this was so important to her to do now, because she mentioned she wanted to do it “asap” if we’d said yes.

and this is where my “no” turned into “hell fucking no.” she told me this:

in response to my question of if she’d want to put him on the lease, she said no, she wouldn’t want her boyfriend on the lease in case “something happens so she could just tell him to leave” (raising my question: what, exactly, do you expect to happen? maybe the landlord, who lives in the building, finding out someone’s living here illegally? bc THAT WOULD DO IT FOR ME)

she was marrying him in december which is why she wanted it to happen “soon” so they wouldnt be living apart. i asked why she couldnt just wait until the lease was up to do all this, to which she said:

her boyfriend’s green card (he was russian) had expired so he was now paying month to month and that’s when i realized, oh. bitch he’s using you for a green card marriage and you’re trying to inconvenience all of us instead of owning your life like an adult, or something

at some point during the conversation she like tried to bribe me with a couple hundred extra dollars per month “to cover the cost of the extra utlities/wifi/inconvenience,” which i politely declined. this was when i said basically “look i never got the sense you particularly liked living here (massive understatement) and i think that it’d work out best if you moved out, which you’re clearly already planning to do”

and she did start looking immediately. at some point while she was looking i overheard her talking to veronica mentioning that he was a huge fan of putin and she’d asked him to like, politely, stop?, lmao because she didn’t like his entire yknow politics, and he basically said “i’m sorry, i can’t betray my personal/national identity, i just really believe in putin” or whatever the fuck and i thought to myself, this bitch is marrying him anyway for some godforsaken reason

i don’t know why i hoped that she would be any more considerate moving out than when she moved in, but somehow i was still surprised when the sublet she picked out was someone she never introduced us to or mentioned before, she literally just said “hey here’s your new housemate and when she’s moving in” and dropped us a phone number and facebook page.

one last thing: while emily was moving out, veronica mentioned to me that she was really pleased i stood up to her because she felt massively uncomfortable with the situation too. i asked why she didn’t say something, and she said she talked to emily privately airing out her problems, and emily had managed to talk her into accepting that sort-of bribe privately off message, and emily told her ‘just say yes’ in the chat, so she did and was kind of kicking herself for it after. (our other housemate was off doing fuck knows what at this point; she was gone for weeks on end leaving us to take care of her guinea pigs for her with little to no warning.)

but then, veronica says, the big thing that astounds her is that this wasn’t even the same boyfriend who she’d had when she’d moved in. six months had passed by this point. SHE HAD BEEN DATING GREEN CARD GUY FOR LIKE, THREE MONTHS WHEN SHE DROPPED THIS ON US

and then she moved to fucking harlem, one of the yknow most diverse neighborhoods in the city known particularly for its black heritage, so i guess have fun honey

(her replacement somehow turned out to be just as bad as she was, so you can imagine why i was eager for my lease to end in may)

#stuff #Anonymous #askbox

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flecks-of-stardust · 3 years ago

Note

What random objects would the vessels have in their pockets?

spoilers under the cut!

goooood question honestly? by 'pockets' here im going to take some liberty and pretend its 'the internal void space where they can store stuff like a bag of holding' because aside from glimmer, none of them regularly wear clothing, let alone clothing with pockets sdfdjghkjs

also i realized halfway through typing this that adult vessels have less access to this internal void space, probably? im going to need to sit down and think about that more, but assume all the vessels are in their canon stages of molting. so like. child molt for ghost and orchid, first molt for lheki, and final for glimmer

lheki: probably some random test tube they shoved in there to clear up space on the table and promptly forgot about, items theyre going to use to trade with, currency, a few notebooks, pens for those notebooks, some sort of emergency communication item for orchid when their communication breaks down entirely, and most likely a gift from isma that's safe from void contamination. essentially they're the one with all the useful items lmao

ghost: weaponry. small weaponry items, granted, but weaponry. so probably some darts they made themself, spare chunks of metal they're going to use to make more later, rocks and stuff to supplement that, and occasionally, temporary storage of venom they likely got from hornet. they also have currency in there, but probably less than lheki has, way more keepsakes from their family and friends, some... uh... battle mementos, and probably a few plushie like items that are also safe from void contamination. their inventory does shift around a lot more than their siblings' do though, but post-dreamless this is generally what it looks like

orchid: literally just random crap they picked up and thought was cool. theres a lot of shiny pebbles in there, some flowers they put in and forgot about (and when they pull them out they'll be dismayed because those get contaminated by void), like three units of currency that someone gave them for some reason, and other similar stuff like that. its nearly all junk, and ghost is constantly annoyed with how much stuff they will shove in there without even thinking. they have probably the second most keepsakes from their family and friends though, and they take them out to use them the most. otherwise its just... junk. watching them try to pull something out of their internal void space is like one of those cartoon scenes where they pull increasingly large items out of a bag that had no possible way of containing those items fkjgjksjka

glimmer: the only one to really have the use of external pockets! as such they carry the least stuff on them, but they fashioned holders onto their wheelchair with monomon, quirrel and lheki's help. they have lots of mobility aid related items, especially crutches, and also their prosthetic arm. outside of that, they're often carrying around pillows and other comfort items, as well as fashion related accessories; they're also the most likely to wander around in a dress. they do have their nail with them most of the time, but its usually strapped to their wheelchair, and they mostly just use it as an emergency crutch when their other crutches are unavailable now. they probably have a few weaponry items that ghost gave them, sized for their use, and they also tend to have at least one thing from their family and friends with them, but its usually pillows sfgkjs

but yeah that's a rough overview. it really depends on the situation, though? and also on their location; glimmer doesnt move around as much as their siblings do, mostly due to accessibility issues, so they dont usually need to bring their stuff with them. in general however, ghost is always the one with the weapons, lheki has the healing items and other useful things, glimmer has the cuddly items, and orchid has random crap that's usually not very helpful fjkgkjkjs

for extra reference, i accidentally typed this in order of oldest to youngest. though ghost and orchid are kind of twins, so its a bit of a moot point on whos older. lheki's just leaning into those oldest sibling vibes for me askjfgjsjk

#dreamless au #dreamless spoilers #the vessels #ghost #lheki #glimmer #orchid #this is all post-dreamless if that was confusing #there's a ton of detail ive put into these four that i cant reveal yet because its nearly all post-dreamless :')

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br0adwa5 · 7 years ago

Text

deh apartment hcs

so i was just scrolling thru Tumblr Dot Com™ and I saw a post that said “does anyone else ever daydream of decorating their first apartment?” (if anyone knows who made that lmk) but anyway i saw that and was like omg if that ain’t alana and then i was like wAIT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THEM so here’s this. fyi this is like a college au type thing ish??

(im sotired this is kinda shitty lol)

(also thank u so much for the luv on my last two hcs? i cr ied? les get to the point sorry)

alana:

ok so this girl would obviously have the neatest apartment ever

it would probably be like a medium size ya know

white walls.

lots of white walls.

and there would be like really pretty marble countertops

her beadspread (or whateverthefuck u call it) would probably be like grey with white little lines on it

in a pattern tho

like a cute pottery barn one

she would so freaking use evan’s discount at pottery barn are u kidding me

like her entire house would look like a pottery barn catalog

anyway

idk if all apartments have this so excuse me if i sound mega stupif

but she would use the little intercom-buzzer thing to get into the apartment to her full advantage

like if u wanted to even go up there she would legit do a full on background check

(except for zoe)

(zoe would be like “hey alana it’s-” and alana would be like “yOU CAN COME RIGHT UP”

but it would be like

“hello who is this?”

“alana you know it’s jared. i just texted you.”

“… ok then what’s your middle name”

“aLANA”

but anyway back to what inspired this in the first place

so alana would SO plan her apartment out from when she was like young enough to understand it ya get it

like she would pick out furniture at age six

(her taste would obviously change as she got older but u get it)

and she would literally have it down to the p a i n t color

like she would walk into home depot or whatever and the worker would expect her to look around for like 40 minutes but she’d be like

“hi hello i’ll take seashell grey in the gloss finish please. make it quick.”

(i totally just made that up what the hell is a gloss finish never heard of her)

i also picture her having lots of house plants? like most of them would be fake bc she’s too busy to keep them alive but they wouldn’t look fake

yeah alana’s apartmetnt would be so put together and like clean cut and nice

zoe:

her apartment would be rad okay

i feel like it would be v hipster and cool

not like Hipster™ but like… hipster?

what am i even saying

okay

so she would definetley have a room with yellow walls

like her rooms would be painted cool colors and stuff

but yellow specifically

she just seems like a yellow person

she would have a big wall that’s all chalkboard paint

wait now im really excited about this wall oh my god

like when everyone would go over her house they would all take a chalkboard marker (real chalk makes too much of a mess) and write and draw on it

evan would do little doodles of trees and write sweet and encouraging stuff

connor would either draw a hecking masterpiece or write really small in the corner “fuk u”

there’s no in between

alana would just doodle hearts and stuff

or when she’d be over doing homework w zoe she’d try to teach her math and science and stuff on it

a w

jared would just draw memes

i think we can all agree on that one

but annyyywwayy

she would refuse to get anything like store bought mainstream

like she would go to little shops in the middle of nowhere

or garage sales

and get the cutest stuff

her house would be so homey but at the same time like “wtf why is this so perfect”

l o t s of tapestries

don’t fight me on this

it wouldn’t be the regular mendala ones that a lot of people get

(but she would for sure have a few of those too)

it would be like really cool unique stuff

lots of maps of the world

tie dye

ya kniw

they would mostly be taking up all of the celing space and some wall space in her room

she would so have a polaroid camera i KNOW IT

and she would put them all on pieces of string w clothespins and string them up around her room

all pics of her frands and stuff

awwww zoe

she’d also probably have a room just for her dog

(btw if u didn’t see my other hc i see her as having a golden retriever named kiwi)

(but anyway)

like it was supposed to be a closet sbut she just didn’t use it

so she was like “well… okay let’s do this”

and evan will spend h o u r s at a time in that room

ugh she would just have the cutest apartment v colorful and stuff

evan:

evan’s apartment would be v small

he llved with his mom the first two years of college but decided to move out because he was feeling like he made a lot of progress and was ready to live on his own (btw is it canon tht he lives w his mom first year of college? i forget lmk)

(but he wasn’t really living on his own bc connor was always over or he was at connor’s place)

he would have a v little sitting area w a really old tv and a worn out couch that was probably free on the side of the road or cheap from a garage sale

he would have a fridge and oven and stuff but he’d mostly just use the microwave

(ho;ly shit “some people say just use a microwave…”)

(i h8 myself why why why ok moving on)

his diet would mainly consist of ramen noodles

bc he doesn’t want to leave and have to socalize with people at fast food places or the grocery store

but every once and a while zoe would come over like “evan wtf” and make him food to hold him over for a while

(uh hc that zoe’s a really good cook??/)

he would have a little bedroom with a big window in it

and his comforter would be blue with navy stripes (similar to The Shirt™ but not completley the same)

he would have lots of sticky notes everywhere

like ranging from “don’t forget to feed the dog” to “don’t worry about it, it’s probably not a big deal”

and when he was in a really good mental state he would write them and stick them in places he know he’d see when he wasn’t in the best shape

and it would encourage him to keep going

wow that’s equally heartbreaking and adorable

ok don’t fight me on this we all know it’s a thing

he would have plants. eve ry wh ere

like there wouldn’t be a single fake plant in there

but he loved them bc he felt like it made the air fresher??? like it supplied more oxygen in the room which made it easier to breathe when he was feeling anxious??

(idk i can’t really explain it but that’s how i feel when i get anxious so i feel like it would help him too)

but it would range from huge ass borderline trees to succlents the size of his thumb nail

he would have s o many succulents

he would name them all

aaaaaaaAaAAAA

and each of his friends would have a plant named after them

even though it was small he really loved his apartment

bc he worked really hard to be able to pay for it and buy the furniture and stuff

so it was like his baby

yeah that’s my boy evan handsoap!

connor:

connor’s apartment would actually be pretty big

like everything would be super super high quality and nice

he would so have a recliner chair

you know the one i’m talking about okay

and he would spend most of his time in there

even though he def has a huge nice sectional

(btw most of his furniture is black)

when evan would come over he wouldn’t want to get up out of it

but even always wanted to cuddle

so the first time evan was like “con come over hereee”

connor just scooched over

and evan was like “??”

but just went over to him

and they were kinda squished but they loved it

bc they were so close to eachother

AW IM SCREECHING

but yeah they would love to cuddle on the recliner

his kitchen would be p nice too

like he would have a weirdly high tech fridge and a really nice oven and stuff

but if u opened the fridge there would just be like a half dranken (that is nOT a word) bottle of mountain dew, a cheese stick, and maybe on a good day some random leftovers

(btw idk why but i see his parents buying him most of the stuff in his apartment,, this doesn’t really make sense when i think about it but i can’t not do it what am i saing now awioehfdlsnk)

his room would be nice

he would have a big bed with a black and white plaid duvet cover

omg evan would l o v e his bed

like evan of course loves his own bed but connor’s is just so comfy

(plus connor’s bed also has connor)

(anywho)

his walls would be like a greyish blue color

but his furniture would still be all black

he would have a big desk and he always kept sticky notes around for evan to doodle on if he ever got anxious

and he has an entire drawer in his dresser just for his hair ties because he has an unhealthy amount of them

at all times

partly because he wants to keep his hair up sometimes

but partly because he always wears one around his wrist to snap when he gets mad or can’t control his emotions

and he always ends up loosing them

oh also his shower in his bathroom would be BOMB like im talking it has one of those little ledge chair thingies

and the water pressure is a plus

and evan’s shower at his apartment is like sucky so he always just showers at connors

(i mean this in the least innapropriate way possible btw jus clearing that up)

but connor would spend SO much time there

so would evan tbh

so yeh

jared:

ok guys

hear me out on this one

but i feel like jared would have a surprisingly nice apartment??

like,,, actually very nice

they would all love hanging out there when they were all together

the first time he asked them over they were like “… u sure”

they were expecting to walk into something that looked like a super crappy hotel room with garbage all over

but they walked in and were like “jared what the fuk”

because this place was nice

like,, , he would always have the most food out of all of them

(which wasn’t saying much but still)

he would have a big nice couch with lots of extra like beanbags all over

they would all have their own that they used

and his tv would be poppin okay

he would have his old wii hooked up to it

and they would constantly have mario kart tournaments

jared always insisted on being wario

for the Memes™

he would be the only one out of all of them with an amazon fire stick so they would always watch movies all together at his house

and sometimes they would just randomly take it without telling him

(i’m looking at u connor)

and he wouldn’t notice for a few days but when he did he went cRAZY

but anyway

his room would b supa cool

he would have a really nice bed

omg he would have like video game and other nerd stuff posters e v e r y w h e r e

like everywhere

little to no wall space for anything elsee

every once in a while he would go through his camera roll and print the pictures that he liked the best to hang up on his wall

hear me out bc this is gonna sound weird

he would probably have a dead meme shrine in one of the corners of the wall on the bottom

that he started as a joke with connor and zoe once but it jst spiraled out of control until every dead meme was recognized as soon as it went out

he would have a tv in his room

not as good as his one in the living room but still

he has two tvs what even jared

that’s where he would put his xbox

and he would game all night man

ah i love jared sm

ok that’s it hope u enjoyed ahhahah

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