#it's an overly simplified way to look at it

[troblsomtwins829]

Raspberry takes one look at Jak, and despite the valid concern she wouldn't care for him as much as Damas does, she sees enough of herself in him; and enough of Damas AND Sig. She can't help but love him as well.

Damas says he's their son. That means he's her son, too.

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩

paige bueckers x tutor!reader

wc: 3.5k

a/n: smut!! hopefully the next thing i post is for the hot take?

“Alright, so this is a basic setup for solving linear equations,” you said, your voice calm but tinged with a teacher-like authority. Your pen glided over the page, underlining the example problem with precision. “The key is to isolate the variable, so you want to start by simplifying both sides.”

The library was bathed in soft afternoon light streaming through tall windows, the rays casting long, golden streaks across the tables and shelves. The air felt still, heavy with the kind of focus that seemed to permeate academic spaces. Occasionally, the faint hum of the air conditioning broke the silence, accompanied by the gentle rustle of someone turning a page or the muted scrape of a chair being adjusted.

Across from you, Paige sat slouched in her seat, an air of nonchalance radiating from her. Her elbow was propped on the table, fingers cradling her cheek, her head tilted ever so slightly as though the weight of paying attention was too much effort. The textbook lay open in front of her, but its pages were pristine, unbent, untouched—like a prop more than a tool.

Meanwhile, your notebook was the complete opposite. The pages were covered in neat rows of equations, annotations, and diagrams, each one carefully designed to explain the problem at hand. You leaned forward slightly, your brow furrowed in concentration as you scribbled another step beneath the problem.

Paige’s eyes weren’t on the notebook. They weren’t even on the textbook. Instead, her gaze lingered on you—on the way your fingers moved smoothly over the paper, the way a strand of hair had fallen into your face, the way your lips pursed slightly when you were focused.

“Are you even listening?” you asked without looking up, sensing her lack of attention.

Her blue eyes snapped to yours, wide with feigned innocence, as if she’d just been caught red-handed and was scrambling to cover it up. The corners of her lips twitched, hovering between a smirk and a nervous smile. “Yeah. Totally,” she said, her tone overly casual, as though repeating your words would make up for the fact that she clearly hadn’t heard a single one. “Isolate the variable.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in your chair to give her an expectant look. “Okay, then,” you said, your voice dripping with skepticism. “Tell me what the first step is.”

Paige’s face froze for a beat, her confident front cracking just enough for you to catch the flicker of panic in her eyes. She shifted in her seat, her fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as she stalled for time. Her gaze darted to the notebook between you, scanning it as though the answer might jump off the page and save her. 

She blinked once. Then twice. Each deliberate, slow flutter of her lashes seemed like an attempt to buy time, to summon an excuse that would pull her out of the corner she’d backed herself into. Finally, with a resigned exhale, Paige leaned back in her chair, the legs creaking softly under the shift in her weight. A sheepish grin spread across her face, one of those lopsided ones that managed to look charming even when it was entirely unearned.

“Uh… you know,” she began, her voice light and teasing, “this whole tutoring thing would be way easier if you weren’t so distracting.”

Your pen froze mid-scribble, and you looked up, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heat bloomed across your neck, a quiet embarrassment sneaking in at her unexpected comment. “I’m the distraction?” you shot back, trying to sound exasperated but unable to keep the faint incredulity out of your tone. “You’re the one zoning out like we’re not cramming for your math quiz tomorrow.”

Paige shrugged, entirely unfazed, her smirk stretching wider, becoming more self-assured. “Can you blame me?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as her eyes scanned your face, her expression making it clear she was in no rush to answer seriously. “It’s hard to focus when you look like…”

She trailed off, letting the silence hang between you, knowing full well it would make you curious. Her hand lifted lazily, gesturing vaguely in your direction as if the rest of the sentence didn’t even need to be said.

“Like what?” you pressed, narrowing your eyes at her and crossing your arms over your chest, the action more defensive than you intended.

Paige leaned forward again, her elbow resting on the table as she met your gaze with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. “Like that,” she said simply, her voice soft but firm, as though the words held a weight she wasn’t willing to explain.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t completely hide the faint smile threatening to tug at the corners of your lips. There was a part of you—a small, secret part—that enjoyed her relentless teasing, even if it made concentrating nearly impossible. In truth, who didn’t want an attractive athlete constantly flirting with them? “Compliments won’t get you out of this, Bueckers,” you said, shaking your head as you tapped the open notebook with your pen. “Eyes on the notes. We’re finishing this problem before I lose my patience.”

She groaned dramatically, her head tipping back as though the weight of the request was unbearable. “Fine, fine,” she relented, her voice dripping with exaggerated defeat. Slowly, she leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand as her other hand hovered above the notebook. Her gaze skimmed over the words without much urgency. “Isolation of variables. Got it. So simple.”

The sarcasm in her tone wasn’t lost on you. “If it’s so simple,” you countered, shifting in your seat to lean closer, “then what’s the next step?”

Paige tilted her head, her eyes lingering on the page for a beat too long, as if stalling for time. The faint crease in her brow made it clear she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. But then, her focus flickered—first to your hand, resting near the edge of the notebook, and then upward, locking onto your face.

Her lips curled into that signature smirk of hers, the one that practically radiated confidence and just a touch of mischief. “Honestly?” she began, her voice taking on a softer, almost playful tone.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift. “Yeah?”

“The next move,” she said, her gaze unwavering, “is probably asking you out. That’s gotta be easier than this math stuff.”

You froze, your pen hovering mid-air above the notebook, her words replaying in your head like a broken record. Slowly, you blinked, your brain scrambling to formulate a response as an involuntary warmth spread from your chest to your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as you refocused on the paper in front of you, hoping she didn’t notice the subtle hitch in your composure.

“But you’re still here,” she quipped, her voice light and teasing, accompanied by a grin so self-satisfied it could’ve powered the room’s dim lighting. She leaned back in her chair again, stretching her arms behind her head like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You shot her a look, your eyebrow arched in mock annoyance. “Not for much longer if you don’t start paying attention,” you warned, though the corners of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward despite your best efforts to stay stern.

Paige tapped her pencil lazily against the edge of the table, her eyes flicking between the open textbook and your concentrated expression. A playful grin spread across her face as she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.

“You know,” she started, her tone light and teasing, “I think I could probably focus better if I was sitting next to you.”

You paused mid-scribble, lifting your head to give her a skeptical look. “What difference would that make?” you asked, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of her mischievous gaze.

Paige shrugged, the grin on her face growing wider. “I don’t know. Something about proximity to greatness or whatever,” she said with a wink. “Plus, you could point out what I’m doing wrong in real time. Super efficient.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “Or you’d just get more distracted,” you countered, trying to sound unfazed.

Paige tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Maybe,” she admitted, her voice dropping slightly. “But I think it’s worth the risk.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you tried to focus on the notes in front of you. But the warmth of her words lingered, and from the corner of your eye, you could see the triumphant spark in her gaze.

Without a word, she pushed back her chair, the legs scraping softly against the library floor. Before you could question her, Paige stood and casually made her way around the table, plopping herself down in the empty seat right beside you. The subtle scent of her cologne hit you immediately, and your heart rate spiked as the proximity closed the space between you.

“Paige,” you said, your voice low but exasperated. 

She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief. You blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden closeness. Her shoulder brushed yours as she leaned just slightly into your space, and you could feel your face heat up. “That’s not how this works,” you mumbled, looking down at your notes in a desperate attempt to avoid her gaze.

Her eyes dropped to your notebook, and she gestured toward it lazily. “Alright, teach. Show me how it’s done.”

You sighed, trying to suppress the fluttering in your chest. “If you don’t take this seriously—”

“I am,” Paige interrupted, her voice soft but sincere. She looked at you, her smirk softening into a small smile. “Promise. Just… don’t mind me sitting here.”

Before you even realized it, your concentration shattered like fragile glass, the words on the page blurring into meaningless scribbles when Paige’s hand, warm and deliberate, began a slow, almost hesitant journey up your thigh, slipping just beneath the edge of the table. Her fingertips grazed your skin lightly, tracing lazy, teasing circles that sent a shiver up your spine. The contact was featherlight but impossible to ignore, each movement deliberate enough to make your heart race.

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively glanced around the library, your eyes darting to the other tables to see if anyone might be watching. The muted hum of the room felt louder, the soft rustling of pages and faint whispers of conversation suddenly heightened against the thrumming of your pulse.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a mix of shock and disbelief. Your gaze snapped back to Paige, wide-eyed, but she didn’t flinch.

She leaned in slightly, her lips tugging into a sly, self-assured smirk. “Helping you relax,” she murmured, her voice low and velvety, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, daring you to call her out—but the steady rhythm of her fingers told you she had no intention of stopping.

"Shh," she whispered, her hand inching further up. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest as her fingers found the hem of your skirt. The possibility of getting caught only heightened the thrill, your pulse quickening with anticipation. Paige's hand slid under the fabric, her palm grazing against your bare thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath, your skin tingling at her touch. She traced light patterns on your inner thigh, drawing closer and closer to your aching core.

"Paige, we're in public," you hissed, but your words held no conviction. Your body betrayed you, your hips shifting towards her teasing touch.

"I know," she purred, her fingers dancing maddeningly close to where you needed them most. "But no one can see what I'm doing to you under this table. So, you just sit there and look pretty, and I’ll handle the rest, okay?”

The war raging in your mind was written all over your face, each flicker of hesitation and uncertainty etched into your features. Your eyebrows furrowed, then lifted slightly, your lips parting as though to speak but quickly pressing together again. It was a silent tug-of-war, the conflict within you mirrored in the subtle shifts of your expression, betraying the chaos swirling behind your eyes.

As Paige's delicate fingers traced tantalizing patterns across your skin, a shiver of electric pleasure coursed through your body. Her touch was like liquid fire, igniting every nerve ending and sending waves of intoxicating sensation straight to your core. You found yourself lost in a haze of desire, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you struggled to maintain your composure.

The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop, to pull away from whatever this was. But the primal urge growing within you drowned out all reason. Your body betrayed you, responding to Paige's skilled touch with a hunger you'd never experienced before.

As if in a trance, you felt your head slowly nodding, giving in to the overwhelming need that consumed you. Paige's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her eyes glinting with triumph at how easily she'd convinced you. That smug expression only fueled your arousal further, making you ache to prove just how dirty you could be.

At your agreement, Paige's eyes flashed with predatory hunger. In one fluid motion, she removed her hand from your thigh, leaving a trail of tingling skin in its wake. Her slender fingers curled around the armrest of your chair, nails digging into the fabric.

With surprising strength, she yanked your chair towards her, the wheels squeaking in protest. The sudden movement sent a jolt through your body, your heart pounding as you were pulled into her personal space. The scent of her perfume - a heady mix of jasmine and something darker, more primal - enveloped you.

Your bodies were now mere inches apart, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Paige's chest heaved with each breath, the swell of her breasts straining against her tight top. Her legs parted slightly, inviting you closer.

The abrupt closeness left you dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by her presence. You could see every detail of her face - the flecks of gold in her eyes, the slight parting of her glossy lips, the flush creeping up her neck. The air between you crackled with tension, thick with unspoken desires and the promise of what was to come. 

Paige abruptly broke the intense eye contact, her gaze darting down to the open textbook on the desk. The sudden shift in her demeanor was palpable, like a switch had been flipped. Her long lashes fluttered as her eyes scanned the page, a slight furrow appearing between her perfectly shaped brows.

With a graceful movement, she extended her arm, her finger tracing a line in the book. The simple gesture drew your attention, almost hypnotically. You could see the delicate bones of her wrist, the soft skin of her inner arm, the way the fluorescent light caught the fine hairs there.

Her body language had changed subtly. Where moments ago she had been all seduction and hunger, now she affected an air of studious concentration. But there was a tension in her shoulders, a slight quickening of her breath that betrayed her act.

As you followed her gesture to the textbook, you caught a whiff of her scent again - that intoxicating blend of jasmine and musk, now mingled with the faint smell of arousal. The proximity of your bodies hadn't changed; you could still feel the heat radiating from her, could still see the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

The moment of studious concentration was shattered as Paige's hand found its way to your bare thigh. Her fingers traced slow, teasing circles on your exposed skin, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through your body. You felt the heat of her palm, the slight calluses on her fingertips, as she caressed your leg.

Paige's eyes lifted to meet yours, the fleeting vulnerability replaced by a smoldering intensity. The air between you was charged with tension, thick with the promise of things to come. You could see the dilation of her pupils, the flush that was creeping up her neck, the slight parting of her pink lips.

Her hand moved higher, inch by torturous inch, her fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The flimsy skirt provided little barrier, and her touch felt like a brand against your flesh.

Paige leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “Tell me,” her hand continued its torturous exploration, fingertips teasing along the hem of your skirt. She pulled back slightly, her gaze locked on yours, "how badly do you want this?” 

Her hand slid higher, skimming the edge of your panties. Suddenly, her pinky and ring finger slipped underneath the elastic band, hooking into the side of your underwear. With a quick tug, she pulled them to the side, exposing you fully to her touch.

You hesitated before whispering out, “So bad, Paige, please.”

Paige's fingers stroked through your wet folds, gathering the slick arousal there. She brought her hand to her lips, wrapping around them, swiping her tongue across the digits in a slow, deliberate motion. "So good," she said, her eyes never leaving yours.

You watched, mesmerized, as she pulled her fingers out with an audible pop and returned them between your legs. Her fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, maddening circles around the sensitive bud. Pleasure jolted through you, your legs quivering and toes curling in your shoes.

Just as you felt something within you building, Paige moved her hand lower. You gasped as you felt her tracing your entrance, your slick arousal allowing her to glide easily across the delicate skin, Paige's lips curving into a wicked grin against your ear. 

"Feels like you want this," she whispered, dipping her finger teasingly inside your heat before retreating. "So wet. I wonder..." She dipped back in, this time adding a second finger to tease you as she withdrew. 

Paige continued her maddening torture, fingers slipping into you only to withdraw once more before you could get too accustomed to the sensation. Your thighs trembled, hands fisting in the arms of your chair as you tried to control your breathing.

"Feel so good," Paige murmured appreciatively, "I can't wait to feel you around my fingers." 

She pushed two digits deep inside you, finally giving you the penetration you craved. Your head fell back as she began to pump slowly, building up a rhythm. Her thumb found your clit, adding another layer of stimulation that had you squirming. "You like this, don't you?" Paige's breath was hot against your neck as she pressed open mouth kisses to your pulse point. "Being touched like this, in public where anyone could catch us. It excites you, doesn't it?" 

Paige's fingers were relentless, plunging into you at a steady, driving pace that had you seeing stars. Her thumb circled your clit, each touch sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your veins. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of oblivion, your body tensing tighter and tighter. "Go ahead and cum for me," Paige commanded, her voice a dark, sinful purr. "I want to feel you soak my fingers with it." She pressed her thumb hard against your clit, the increased pressure finally pushing you over the brink.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around Paige's fingers, your teeth clutching your bottom lip in an attempt to silence your noises. 

Even as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax, Paige didn't stop. Her fingers continued to pump into you, drawing out your pleasure and making the intense sensations border on painfully overwhelming. You almost sobbed, you mouth forming an O, your hands coming down to clutch at her arm, nails digging into the skin there. "Paige, please," you begged, unable to tell if you were begging her to stop or for more. But she knew exactly what you needed.

Paige removed her hand from between your legs, your hips still jerking sporadically. Through the haze of pleasure, you saw her raise her hand, slick with your arousal. Rather than wiping her fingers off, Paige brought them to her mouth again. Your gaze locked with hers as she sucked them into her mouth, licking them clean. A low, throaty moan escaped her at the taste of you.

Paige leaned back in her chair, her trademark smirk firmly in place as she grabbed her pencil tapped it against the edge of the table. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, locking onto yours as if she’d just won some unspoken game, and in some ways, she had.

“So,” she drawled, her voice dripping with smug confidence, “the next step?”

[joshsindigostreak]

'Tis the Damn Season

“I’m staying at my parent’s house, and the road not taken looks real good now…”

A Holiday One Shot 🎄

Josh Kiszka x F!Reader

Authors Note: Happy Holidays y’all!! Here’s a cozy Josh piece that is very self indulgent but so sweet!! Happy reading and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! 🍷🎄

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, unprotected sex, oral sex both m/f receiving, swearing, internal angst.

Despite the ambient noise of the dive bar you were perched in, for the first time in three days you finally felt at peace. You loved your parents, but visiting them these days could be overwhelming, especially with the revolving door of family members showing up unannounced. There was only so much small talk one could take. You had lost count of how many times you described your job, your passion, as an acquisitions editor at a small publishing house, to various family members. Eventually you had to simplify it with a curt, “I get to be the person to say ‘yay,’ or ‘nay’ on their book submissions.” 

You loved your job. As much as it sucked to be the bad guy sometimes, the benefits of being able to work remotely and at your own pace made up for it. Getting paid to read was the best thing to happen to you in your twenties so far, and even though the pay wasn’t spectacular, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. There were times you were worried that making your passion your job would burn you out of reading in your own time, but so far you still found the time to bury your nose in a new tome of choice. 

When you had packed for your trip back home, a small stack of books made it into your luggage, along with your trusty Kindle that was loaded with various quick reads that let you turn your brain off and enjoy the ride. It took everything within you to not check your work emails on your laptop, but you were on the precious few PTO days your employer had allotted everyone in your department, and you were determined to use them properly. 

The bar you had sought refuge in was a local one a few blocks from your house. It was one your dad would always go to hang out with his buddies when you were younger and he was still working that 9-5 throughout the week. 

As you sat on the wobbly bar stool, your ankles crossed and your toes rested on the metal bar attached to the wood paneling of the bar itself. A solitary glass of dark red wine sat on the bar top, inches from the book you were devouring. It wasn’t anything complicated, and many would call it a dime-a-dozen romantic fantasy, filled with magic and tall dark love interests with horrific social skills. But sometimes, the familiar nature of the plot and characters was comforting. The plot might not have been overly unique, but the curiosity of how the author was going to weave together these tropes was half the fun. How was this author going to handle the “oh…” moment between two enemies? What mundane task will trigger the main character into a flashback of a lost love that got away? 

This personal game of yours was a slippery slope, as you had to practically pavlov yourself into not going into work mode while reading, but you kept yourself in check for the most part. At least that's what you would tell yourself. 

You flipped another page in the book, eager to see how the current scene was unfolding. The imagery was building in your mind so well that you hadn’t even noticed a familiar, sweet and dimpled face, had slipped into the bar with a few friends. 

Josh had shed his fluffy, faux fur lined coat, one that was way too ostentatious for the small town atmosphere, but he wrote it off on how practical it was for keeping the cold winter air from chilling his bones. He had decided against the beanie that he typically wore with it, in favor of letting his hair show itself off as it normally did. Tonight was not the night for hat-hair, though the singer was unsure where this conclusion had come from earlier in the evening. The nagging feeling of, you need to look nice, had been lingering in his brain for the past few hours. 

In his typical fashion, he hadn’t shut his mouth the entire time he had been inside the establishment. Rattling off story after story from being on the road with his brothers and their band, cracking up at his own jokes, letting the excitement of being home and seeing the same faces he grew up with. 

The pool table in the far corner had been where his group had settled, drinks settled on the edge with pool sticks in their hands. Josh was bent over the table settling in to make his shot when a figure hunched slightly on a bar stool, turning a page in the book sitting on the bar top.

 Your profile was slightly obscured from where he was an how you were sitting on the stool, and it wasn’t until the bartender came over to refill your wine glass and your name tumbled from their mouth in conversation that it clicked for the rock star who had probably made the worst pool shot in his life at the sound of it. 

You. It was you. 

His cheeks heated in the embarrassment of his shitty shot and the memories that materialized in his mind’s eye. Sitting next to you in algebra, making eye contact and shrugging when neither of you knew whatever the fuck your teacher was talking about. Or walking past you in the hallway as you slammed your locker shut trying to book it to your next class. He’d ignored the sinking feeling he had every time it happened that had him wishing his locker was in the same hall as yours, not annoying around the corner. But other times of bumping elbows with you in the lunch line, sharing grimaces at the dry square pizza in front of you. A few of the dumb sarcastic quips he’d made in class in a hushed whisper  (well, as much of a whisper as Josh Kiszka could produce), just to make you bite your lip and try not to giggle too loud, echoed in his mind. 

He hadn’t seen you since the last week of senior year, specifically at a graduation party one of your mutual friends had thrown together last minute. His final memory of your face was how it crumpled slightly as a very tipsy Morgan Pearson had led him up the stairs. It was an image that had haunted him for a long time, because by the time he had made it back downstairs you had already left the party, and he knew you were off on your summer road trip with your parents in the morning. From there he had observed on Facebook you settling into your freshman dorm in a school that was states away, seemingly doing well. Eventually his own band took over all of his time and his internet scrolling was behind him as he saw the world with his brothers. 

Fuck. 

He needed to talk to you. 

Your eyes flitted over to the next page as you took in the new chapter heading, not wanting to be distracted from the cliffhanger the previous chapter had ended on. 

The heroine had just discovered some deep family secrets that rattled her entire being, changing the entire trajectory of her journey so-

“Whatcha readin’?” 

The fantasy world in your mind dissolved at the sound of that voice. A voice, as the cliche says, you hadn’t heard in years. If it had been anyone else, you would have bitten their head off for rudely interrupting your reading, But slowly your eyes fluttered upwards at the source, using every mitochondria in your body to not visibly react at how��different he looked. Not different in an unrecognizable way, but in a way that showed you that he had grown into his own body. That the boyish awkwardness had evolved into a strong jaw and broad shoulders. He…he had facial hair now, and briefly a memory flashed in your mind of him in junior year lamenting about how patchy his upper lip was no matter what he did. 

The sides of his head were shorn down to the skin, and the dim lighting of the bar had you almost convinced he had a mohawk until you looked closer and saw it was closer to a mullet instead. It was a look you would have never considered for him, but it fit perfectly, and he looked beautiful with it. 

And there it was, the knot that would form in your throat whenever you were in his presence. You hadn’t felt that particular sensation since the night of that god awful graduation party. The very party where you had last seen the man before you. 

Your mouth parted dumbly as he parked himself on the stool next to yours. 

“...Josh?” was all you could say. 

He breathed out your name, in a low tone that made your stomach flip. As he took a sip of whatever mixed drink he had in one hand, his other reached over for your book to get a good look of the cover. Emotional and muscle memory kicked in and you allowed him in your personal space, practically letting him take the book out of your hands. In the past, the two of you were always spatially close. Eating off each other's plates, unconsciously scooting your chairs closer together, or grabbing the same seats on the bus for field trips. You weren’t attached to the hip, but somehow whenever you would be in the same room you’d always end up next to each other. 

Josh mouthed the words of the title silently to himself, eyebrows raising slightly at your book of choice. 

“Must be pretty good, you didn’t even notice me walking over,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. 

A nervous laugh rattled through you, “y-yeah it’s pretty immersive.” 

Your eyes were trained on his face, mapping out all of the same but new features, and you wondered if he was doing the same to you as his warm gaze hadn’t left you. 

Josh was most definitely taking you in, as well. You looked so proper sitting on that stool in an oversized black sweater that fell past your hips and hid most of the skirt you had been wearing under it. He tried his best not to make it obvious he was staring at your legs and the tights that were wrapped around them that led down to your boots. But the singer flicked his eyes back to your face, and noted all the subtle changes since the last time he had seen you. You looked so…grown up now, that he felt like he had missed so much in the last few years. It was a feeling he had whenever he came back home, but with you…with you it bothered him, and that feeling caught him off guard. 

Because he was Josh, and he could never let silence linger too long, “so what made you bring a book to a bar of all places?” 

And in a matter of seconds, you began relaying to him how the trip back home had been the last few days, and how much you needed a break from it all. 

“...you remember that uncle that's technically my dads cousin but I call him uncle cause he’s a lot older than my dad?”

Josh nodded along. 

“He’s so fucking loud, dude. And he never shuts up and because of this my grandmother turns up the TV and no one tells him to quiet down so between the TV blasting and him rambling about the dumbest things…ugh and my mother wouldn’t stop hovering over me! I needed to get out of there.” 

He smiled as you hashed out your family drama, flashing his teeth as he did so. There were follow up questions on his end, asking about your parents and grandparents and how they had been. Josh had been one of your few friends who went out of his way to be charming to your parents. He had earned the, “oh Josh is welcome any time he wants…” invitation by fifth grade alone. 

You took a sip of your wine, “oh my god I’ve been talking so much about me, what about you? How’s the band going?” 

It was his turn to blush slightly as he began telling you about the most recent tour they had been on, and how this was a mini break between tour legs and that at the beginning of the year they were off to a new continent. 

He pointed over his shoulder at his friends who were still milling around the pool table, “...in fact Danny is right over there.” 

You turned and gave the drummer a once-over. The last time you had seen Danny Wagner he was this gangly awkward teenager who nervously laughed at everything. But there he was, in a red sweater with perfect spiral curls spilling over his shoulders. The sweater itself was very form fitting on him and it was easy to see how muscled out his shoulders and arms had become over the years. 

“Holy shit, that’s Danny Wagner?” You gave him a slight wave when he made eye contact with you, and he politely waved back with a shy smile. 

Josh, rather indignantly, noticed the way you were looking at Danny and a sharp stabbing feeling of jealousy shot through him. Heat reached the surface of his cheeks and he momentarily contemplated reaching over to gently turn your chin back to him. 

But before Josh could even shove that thought away, you turned to fully face him, and gave a nod to the bartender to get you another glass of wine. Something deep down felt more settled when your attention was fully back on him.

However, you could feel those big brown eyes staring at you as you glanced at Danny. It was such a fixed stare that you were all too familiar with. In the rare moments that Josh was quiet, he would be staring into space, deep in thought. More often than not you chalked it up to him zoning out, but having those unblinking eyes on you had your heart hammering in your chest. 

It wasn’t the first time he had looked at you like that. There were several small,  fleeting moments throughout your adolescence where you’d catch his eyes on you. On the bus coming home from a field trip, walking towards you at your locker, in US History, and even at various house parties you found yourselves at. Your reaction was always the same: the skin of your neck would heat up and prickle up to your cheeks as they flushed. He never called you on it, and for a long time you had convinced yourself that he just hadn’t noticed. Because he never said anything, the idea of it actually meaning something was too great to get your hopes up for. 

There it was, Josh thought. 

That flush of color that darkened your skin whenever he looked at you for too long. It had taken him an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that he was the cause of it, but when he did he would sometimes make you blush on purpose. Maybe it was an ego thing, but he also couldn’t believe you reacted that way to him. He hated the term of someone being out of someone’s league; but even after being in the spotlight for his career and knowing what it felt like when a room full of people swooned at him he still didn’t feel he was in the same universe as yours. 

You were always so poised and collected, even during your awkward stage. Whereas he was always pinging off the walls with his endless supply of energy and charm. 

Why would you even consider a little shit like him?  

The blissful silence was interrupted however, when you saw the door to the bar swing open and a new group of people rushed in to escape the cold. Josh’s back was to the door, but he watched your eyes travel to the side to look behind him, and he didn’t hesitate to whip his head around to see who you were looking at. 

Only one of them rang a bell, a dirty blonde in a bright blue winter coat. Was she in his home room? No…but her locker had been on the same hallway as his. 

“Is that…?”

“Miranda Sheridan,” you murmured  a little too quickly as you turned back to your wine and fiddled with the corner of your book. In all honesty, you didn’t have an issue with Miranda. The two of you had gotten along just fine in school. Well enough that you secured invites to her house from time to time. Well, Josh, had secured invites for you. 

“Oh yeah her parents had that huge property!” He excitedly remembered while throwing a gentle wave in her direction.

You hated the way your stomach twisted when she waved back.  

Her parents owned a couple of acres out in the county, which wasn’t very elaborate, but it was perfect for a lot of the parties teenagers would get themselves into. Josh particularly remembered her dad had an old toolshed in the back that their friends tried to hot box more than once. 

Naturally, her place had been the place to host the main graduation party. You tried to think of anything else, but your mind flooded with the memories of walking around her house with a cliched solo cup, trying to find Josh, your anchor in social situations, and coming up empty and settling on the couch. When you finally laid eyes on him, he was being led by the hand towards the stairs by another girl. No it hadn’t been Miranda, but someone else in your grade that had a very obvious crush on Josh and never tried hiding it. 

Josh looked over his shoulder, his tongue between his teeth as he laughed at something someone said as he walked by. His smile faded as soon as he saw you, sitting all by yourself on the couch. His feet were moving for him, but not towards you. He was already ascending the stairs, eyes locked on yours before the girl attached to his arm tugged at his wrist to get his attention and he followed her upstairs and out of sight. 

That had been the last time you had seen Josh before tonight. 

And by emotional muscle memory, your stomach plummeted just as it had years ago. 

Before you could stop it, you bit out, “we went to her graduation party, remember?” 

The singer’s head snapped back to face you.

That party. 

His voice was quiet, “you…you left early, didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.” 

He could tell it was a lie. An excuse. 

“I just meant…I tried finding you after-”

“After what?” Once again your mouth betrayed you. 

The trunk of the elephant in the room was practically wrapping around Josh’s neck, and his chest felt tight. 

Even softer, he said “after I came downstairs…”

In response, all you did was hum into your glass as you took another sip, an eyebrow arching like a freshly-awoken cat. 

“I had to get home anyway. I had to be on a plane early the next morning.” 

That, he remembered. Your parents had surprised you with a trip across the country as your graduation present. 

But Josh struggled to find the words of what he wanted to say. He hadn’t even been upstairs for twenty minutes before he finally flew down the stairs to find you, only to see the couch filled with different people and one of your other friends informing him that you had caught a ride back home. 

It hadn’t been a complete cut off, the two of you still texted as normal for a few weeks and liked each other's facebook statuses. But the texts became less frequent, and eventually dwindled down to leaving each other on delivered for days at a time. With the band finally starting to take off, and you drowning in your college classes, communication became near impossible. 

“Right…”

“Plus I didn’t want to interrupt your night. You were having too much fun up there.”

This time it was Josh’s turn to twist the side of his mouth and quirk an eyebrow, “what exactly do you think I did that night?”

You scoffed slightly and tilted your head, “Josh.” 

“No, I want you to say it.” 

You stared at him. It felt dumb to get to this point but you weren’t embarrassed. But the same jealousy and adrenaline from that night flooded your system, and after rolling your lip between your teeth you replied, 

“You and…whats her name…hooked u-”

“We didn’t hook up,” he said firmly, not blinking. 

“Made out-”

“We didn’t make out, either.” 

“Well what were you doing up there?” You huffed. 

“Don’t get me wrong, she clearly wanted to do both of those things. But before she could even try to kiss me she was doubled over puking all over the bathroom sink. I spent the next few minutes holding her hair while she let it all out. Apparently all of the vodka shots caught up with her.” 

You sat there, face unmoving as you took in what he said. For years you had it built up in your head that while you were fleeing that house your best friend was hooking up with someone else. 

Now the embarrassment started to creep in. 

The quiet tone returned, “I didn’t even like her like that anyway.” 

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you now. 

You had to get out of here. This was too much. 

“I need to get going,” you began as you started to dig through your purse to pay for your drinks.

Josh was quicker than you and he turned to the bartender and slapped his card down on the bar top and asked to pay for his tab and yours. 

“Josh you don’t have to-” 

“But I am,” he said firmly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he scribbled on the receipts. 

That tone…that tone was new coming from him. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t annoyed, but he was being authoritative in a way you hadn’t heard before. 

Your insides were squirming for multiple reasons now. 

After the bills were settled he faced you again. He wasn’t letting you slip away again. He couldn’t.  

“Let me walk you home.”

You slid off the bar stool, “it's only a couple blocks, Josh, you don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” 

There was again, that tone. 

Not wanting to fight anymore, you nodded and the both of you made your way to the exit for your coats. You caught Josh tapping out a quick text to who you assumed was Danny to let him know where he was going. 

Silently the two of you slipped outside and into the winter air. The icy breeze stung your face after being used to the heat of the bar. You shivered slightly, but tried not to show it as you turned toward the direction of your house. 

Josh shoved his hands in his pockets for warmth, noticing the tiny flakes that had begun to fall from the sky. Had it even been forecasted to snow tonight? In any case, he purposely walked a little closer to you, letting your arms brush together. 

“I didn’t know it was supposed to snow tonight?” You wondered out loud. 

“Mother Nature is spiteful, that way, I guess.”

He hated how awkward it felt now. How the familiarity and ease of talking to you had evaporated as soon as Miranda Sheridan had chosen that specific bar to walk into. 

Soon enough, your house was in view, and your steps picked up the pace to get there faster. Josh followed you into the driveway and to the side of the garage where there were stairs that led up to your room above it. You moved into that space your senior year after your dad had renovated it, and he had only been in it a handful of times before graduation. 

Before you could even reach for the rail, Josh’s hand flew out of his pocket and took a hold of yours, gently lacing your fingers with his. 

The sudden contact had your heart in your throat. 

“You really thought I hooked up with her?” He felt your hand stiffen at his words, but he continued, “as soon as I saw you on that couch, I knew I was making a mistake.”

The flakes started coming down harder now, growing in size as they fell. 

“But you still went up there.”

His shoulders sank slightly, “I know…I shouldn’t have though. She wasn’t the girl I liked anyway.”

Denial is a strong thing, and you were letting it win, “she wasn’t?”

“No…I liked someone else but I second guessed myself all the time around her, thinking she’d never be into me anyway.” 

“How could you be sure of that?”

Josh’s fingers squeezed your hand, “I don’t know she just…she could do so much better than me and there were plenty of better options out there. Never thought I stood a chance.”

Your jaw started trembling and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or from what he was implying.

 

“You really think there are better options than you?” You mirrored his earlier comment back to him. 

His eyes slowly met yours, deliberately giving you the look he knew would darken your cheeks. 

“So much better…”

“I don’t think so…,” your voice was almost as soft as the snow that was accumulating on the ground around you. 

Consequences be damned, you started to lean towards his face. 

His long eyelashes fluttered slightly as he realized what you were doing, and he leaned in and gently brushed his full lips against yours.

At the contact, your heart went from hammering in your chest to exploding. Years of daydreaming of this scenario had finally come to an end, culminating in a kiss that had your knees shaky.

He pulled away slightly to look at you again, only to surge forward and slide his free hand up your jaw to cradle your face. His lips pressed against yours even harder, a sudden wave of emotion taking the wheel in Josh’s mind. 

The both of you had years of pent up feelings and the dams were breaking. 

His other hand reluctantly dropped your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

The move took you by surprise, but you relaxed in his arms and tilted your head slightly and parted your lips. Immediately his tongue ran along your bottom lip before delving into your mouth. A low groan rose from his throat and his fans flexed slightly against your cheek.

A gust of wind whipped around you, causing you to shiver against his lips. 

“N-need to get you inside,” Josh chuckled, leaning his forehead on yours. 

You took a step backwards, resting your foot on the first step. 

“Come up with me?”

He answered with a quick kiss on your lips and mumbled, “lead the way…”

With a grin you turned and hurried up the steps, trying your best not to slip in the slush. Your hands shook as you unlocked your door, nearly stumbling inside to escape the cold. 

As soon as you had shut the door, Josh pushed you against it and started unzipping your coat and planting his lips on your neck. You made quick work of his too and both outer layers were haphazardly thrown onto a chair in the corner. His icy hands started fiddling with the bottom of your sweater, and you both paused at the silent question of going forward. 

He lifted his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you, “we don’t have to if you don’t…I mean we can just hang out if thats all-” 

You shushed him by taking his strong jaw in your hands and gave him a searing kiss. He kissed you back as another wave of emotion washed over him.

 

After letting his lips warm up against yours you pulled back and stared into his eyes, “Josh…this is all I want right now.” 

His eyelashes fluttered again, and this time his cheeks were darkening at the look you were giving him. 

“You sure?” 

“Please…”

Not needing to be told twice, his hands disappeared under your sweater and swept across the skin of your sides. You jolted slightly at how cold they were, but didn’t let it deter you from kissing him again, melting into his touch. His hands slowly rose to cup your breasts through your bra, and the light squeeze had you fighting to keep the low whine in your throat. 

Josh noticed you holding back and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “it’s just me…let me hear you…” 

The low tone of his voice had your body shivering under his hands and when his teeth grazed the skin of your neck you didn’t even try to hold back the breathy whine you made. Impatiently you helped him get your sweater off of your body, flinging it blindly to the side. You stared at the hungry look in his eyes as you reached behind your back to unhook your bra. Wanting to torture him even further, you purposely took your time letting it slide off your arms and onto the floor. His eyes never left your chest as he reached to take one of your breasts into his hand, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. Before you could fully register the feeling he was bending his head down to replace his fingers with his mouth, moaning into your soft skin. He gave the other side the same attention, before reaching behind you for the zipper to your skirt. 

As he knelt down to shimmy it down your hips, you practically clawed at his long sleeve shirt off of him. The lighting  in your room was dim, but you were able to see all of the muscles on his body that were definitely not there the last time you saw him. His arms were much more toned than you thought, and his shoulders and chest were defined in a way that had your lip rolling into your mouth between your teeth. 

Josh made quick work in getting your boots off, helping you step out of them and your skirt. His eyes flicked up at you and they were so much darker than before. He rose to his feet quickly and slammed his mouth onto yours, squeezing your hips and the back of your thighs as he directed you to jump and wrap your legs around him. With a level of coordination you didn’t know he had, you were spun around while he walked the both of you to your bed. It was still in the same place it always had been, in the corner by the window. 

He gently sat you on the edge of the bed, kissing down your body until he was once again knelt before you on the floor. The sight of his blown out pupils and swollen lips sent a flash of heat to your core, and you couldn’t even squeeze your thighs together as he was rolling your tights down your legs and swiftly off your feet. 

You never could have anticipated how the night was going to turn out, so your choice in underwear wasn’t the sexiest pair you owned, but that didn’t stop your best friend from planting kisses along the waist band, tentatively dipping his finger tips under the cotton material to start pulling them down. Your breath caught as you raised your hips to help him out, and within seconds your final layer of clothing was added to the pile on the floor. 

Looking down at him, you scooted back towards the headboard with your legs shut, and he crawled up the bed after you. With your head settled on your pillow he hovered above you for a moment, bringing his hand to trace along your jaw and down your neck, looking at you in a way you had only dreamed about thus far. 

You weren’t going to get emotional, but you couldn’t help it. It was just fully hitting you, as you felt the heat radiate off his body, and the weight of him as he settled on top of you. Thankfully your eyes only welled up a tiny bit, but Josh still noticed and his brow furrowed. His eyes softened and he seemed to sense why you were suddenly still and quiet. He could always guess what you were feeling, even when you were kids. 

His thumb brushed your lips so softly you barely felt it, “I know…” 

He kissed the corner of your mouth before leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, chest, and stomach. He brushed his lips across the skin right above your core where your curls started to grow. He was so close to where you needed him. Carefully he planted a few kisses on your thighs before drawing your legs up and bending your knees, taking his time in case you changed your mind at any point. 

Slowly, he spread your legs apart to finally get a proper look at you, and his breath caught in his throat as your gorgeous core laid bare before him. He was glued to his spot on the bed, eyes sweeping your body, having his own moment of realizing that this was real, and you were actually beneath him like this. His eyes traveled back up to yours, unusually silent for someone who always has something to say, no matter the situation. 

Instead, he traveled down the soft flesh of your thigh, leaving searing kisses in his wake. Just when you thought he was going to reach your core, he turned his head to do the same to your other leg. A low whine rumbled in your throat, and you felt his lips spread into a smile against your skin. You felt the faintest huff of breath as he tried to contain a laugh. 

His mouth hovered over your core, just out of reach. He wanted to memorize you, every detail, every feature that was so uniquely you. He used his thumbs to slowly spread your lips apart, dumbfounded at just how wet you were for him and how your arousal was beginning to pool and drip off of you. 

Your hips twitched in his hands, desperate for any contact beyond his feather-light touches. The way he was looking at your body, with blown out pupils and a parted mouth was only driving you crazier. 

At last, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore before dipping his head down to plunge his tongue into your center, moaning as he finally tasted you. A years-long curiosity was answered, and it was better than anything he had tried to imagine. 

The vibrations had you involuntarily arching into his face. He wasted no time to begin lapping at your folds, swirling his tongue wherever he could. But when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, stars exploded behind your eyelids as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Fuck…” was shouted towards the ceiling, and it encouraged him even more as he sucked even harder on your clit as one of his fingers circled your entrance. One of your hands shot down to his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls to hold him in place. His tongue was swirling around your clit now and the finger that had been teasing you slowly entered. Immediately your walls clenched around him, relishing the friction and slight stretch it brought you. 

Josh continued to pump and curl his finger inside you as he spoiled your clit with his tongue. He was so hard that his pants were nearly suffocating him, but he ignored it in favor of giving you all of his attention. A second finger joined the first inside you, and he curled them upwards to hit that spot inside you that had your fingers nearly pulling out his hair and grinding against his face. He could feel the muscles in your thighs tense and strain against his ears. You kept trying to close your legs completely around him, but he used his other hand to anchor you down and keep you spread so he could reach you properly. 

The spring inside you was coiling tighter and tighter, each drag of his fingertips and swipe of his tongue sent you hurtling closer and closer to the edge. 

You were past the point of moaning and could only muster pitiful whines and whimpers. You were so fucking close,  and clinging to his fingers so tightly that he could barely move them. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting your hips grind and chase your high against him for a few seconds before closing his lips around it once more and sucked on it harshly as you shouted his name. His fingers and mouth worked you through it, letting you ride it out and prolong it as best he could. When your clit became too sensitive he peppered kisses along your thighs again, continuing to pump his fingers slower and slower until he was sure he had felt the last twitch and aftershock of your orgasm. 

He carefully pulled his fingers from you and immediately brought them to his mouth, savoring your taste while cleaning himself off. You used this moment to pull your hand from his hair and down to his cheek, tilting his gaze to you as you propped yourself up on your other elbow. The moonlight caught the shine of your arousal mixed with the matted facial hair. 

Josh quickly sat up on his knees to work at his belt, impatiently sliding off the bed for a moment to fully pull his pants down his legs and off his feet. He was left in his tight boxers, leaving nothing to the imagination as his length pulsed under the fabric. 

Now, it was your turn to crawl over to him, your mouth watering as your eyes traveled down his torso and followed his happy trail to the band of his boxers. You reached up and curled your fingers around the elastic, peeling the final layer of clothing down his thighs and let them pool around his ankles. 

Your eyes were on his cock now, marveling at just how thick it was. Tentatively you reached your hand up to wrap your fingers around it. The feeling of it twitch slightly against your palm sent a shot of arousal through your body. 

He stood stock still at the edge of the bed, his entire body tensing as you touched and felt him. His lower lip was trapped between his teeth and he nearly drew blood when you bent forward and placed a soft kiss on the head. But it was when your lips wrapped around him and your hand slid to the base that his head rolled back on his shoulders and your name escaped his lips. 

A drop of pre-cum landed on your tongue and you wanted nothing more to keep going until he was a whiny mess, shuddering under your touch. 

All too soon his hips backed away from you, pulling his cock from your mouth as you looked up at his almost apologetic eyes. 

“If you keep doing that…”

“But I wanted to keep doing that,” you nearly whined up at him. 

He closed his eyes for a second and breathed through his nose, trying to calm himself down. 

He looked down at you, dark eyes swimming in desire, “but there’s so much more I want to do with you first…” 

He kicked the boxers fully off his feet before kneeling over you on the bed again, flattening you back against your pillows as your legs spread to allow his hips to settle against yours. Briefly his cock was trapped between you, and the feeling of it radiating heat against your skin made you anticipate the next move even more. He captured your lips with his as one of his hands reached down to grip himself, running the head of his cock through your folds and allowing your arousal to coat him before he positioned himself at your entrance. 

You took his bottom lip between your teeth and angled your hips towards him, desperate to finally feel him. 

Slowly he pushed forward, trying to pace himself so this night wouldn’t end embarrassingly fast. 

The way he stretched you as he pushed all the way in had you seeing stars. You felt so full in the best way, like he was made for you. 

“S-so tight…” he hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you, his pelvic bone resting on your clit. 

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips to keep him in place, wanting him as close to you as possible. 

The two of you remained still, getting used to the feeling of one another before Josh’s own needs started to creep up on him. He pulled back out slightly, before pushing back in. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he began to move, kissing your neck and throat as you mewled at the stretch and drag of his cock. One arm of his framed your head while the other slid underneath you to grip your ass. He tilted your hips this way so that his pelvis was grinding perfectly against your clit as he built up speed. 

Your nails dug until the skin of his shoulder blades as you tried to hold onto him. You were still so sensitive from your previous orgasm that your second one was quickly building up inside you. You locked your ankles at the small of his back while your hands reached for his face to crash your lips against his. 

At this point he was slamming into you, chasing not only his own high but yours. He needed to feel it. The euphoric squeeze around his fingers earlier wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to feel your entire body shudder and quake underneath him;  around him. The sound of your bodies colliding with each other was driving him insane. 

The hand that had been gripping your ass slid around your hip and snaked between you and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit expertly, making your second orgasm his only priority. 

Your back arched at the contact the combined friction of his thick cock and his fingers had you flying off the edge, clamping down around him as you shouted his name again into the air. 

“God..fuck…sh-,” expletives tumbled from his mouth as he felt you shake from your orgasm. He tried to hold back but his cock twitched inside you and he bottomed out one last time as his release coated your walls. He tried his best to keep working you through yours, using every synapse in his brain to ignore his own heightened sensitivity. 

Eventually, you both came down from your highs and your bodies relaxed against each other and the bed. Your eyes fluttered open to find him staring at you, his face soft like it had been when he had first looked at your body fully. His lips were parted in awe, and you brushed your thumb across them. 

“That…should’ve happened a long time ago…” he confessed trying to catch his breath. 

“Agreed.”

His mouth formed a smile and his eyes twinkled, “but hey…this time I really did go upstairs with a girl and hooked up with her…”

“Josh!” Your eyes widened and you playfully pushed his shoulder. He laughed into a kiss before turning to look at the door on the far wall of your room. 

“Bathroom, right?”

You nodded with a smile and he slowly pulled out of you, hissing at the sensitivity and the cold air hitting his cock. He beelined for the door and you heard water running briefly before he returned with a thankfully warm washcloth to clean the both of you up. He discarded it into the hamper before crawling back into bed with you, gathering your body in his arms under the covers. 

The way his breath washed over your neck was so comforting and warm that sleep quickly overtook you and you drifted off while you felt his lips brush your skin. 

The next morning, sunlight streamed into your room. Josh was the first to pry his eyes open, and in the silence he took in just how much of a time capsule your room was. The same posters were on your walls, a couple film posters he had given you himself. An obsolete iHome sat on the top of your dresser, surrounded by a collection of jewelry and trinkets that looked familiar to him. 

You stirred in his arms, and he rasped in your ear, “Mmm…morning, lover.” 

The endearment sent a jolt of adrenaline through you and your eyes shot open. It was real. He was really in your bed, his strong arms holding you as those beautiful eyes looked at you in reverence. Your heart was stuttering in your chest. 

“Morning…” you replied, forefinger and thumb capturing his chin and pulling him down for a slow kiss. 

For a while the two of you just cuddled in silence, before a buzz from Josh’s pants pocket on the floor alerted him to a text. Reluctantly, he reached down towards the floor to fish his phone out of the pocket. His notifications were a bunch of texts from his brothers asking for his whereabouts and when he was going to grace them with his presence again. Quickly he typed out a few responses, not fully giving away how his night ended up but letting them know he wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere. 

He sighed as he placed his phone on your nightstand. 

“I’m being summoned…”

You felt a pang in your heart, the other reality of him eventually leaving hitting you. 

He felt you tense in his arms and his brows furrowed, “what’s wrong?” 

You turned to face him fully, not wanting to sound needy or clingy, but not knowing how else to put it, “I just…I don’t want you to go…” 

“You can come with me if you want! I’m sure my mom would love to see you and Jake-”

You cut him off, “right but…what happens after that?” 

He looked confused, “what do you mean?” 

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you at this point, but you needed to know, “what does this mean…?” 

Realization formed on his face as he connected the dots, then shyness crept over his features, “what do you want it to mean?”

“We can’t just go back to being friends now…I can’t pretend that this never happened and-.” your chin wobbled a little as you tried to explain yourself, trying to keep your emotions at bay, but remembering how he had literally just called you lover made it impossible. 

“I don’t think we can go back to being just friends either…” he started. You started to panic  before he continued, “and I don’t have it in me to even try to pretend this never happened. I can’t go back to being a stranger, or just some guy you went to school with.”

“You were never just some guy, Josh…”

He rolled over you, hovering his face above yours, “then maybe…we can see how this goes…?”

You bit your lip, “yeah?” 

He smiled, “yeah,” before slotting his lips over yours and giving you the most tender kiss so far. He relaxed on top of you, allowing himself to be wrapped up in your arms as you lazily made out together as the sun slipped behind some clouds and it began snowing again. 

Eventually you made it out of bed to shower and get dressed. As Josh donned his outfit from the night before, he couldn’t help but be a little smug at how it would be a dead giveaway to what he had been up to the previous night. But then he remembered who his brothers were. 

He looked up hastily as he tied his shoes, “I do have to warn you that my brothers are going to be really annoying about this, but just ignore it.” 

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “it’ll be fine, Josh.” 

He smiled and rose to his feet, kissing you again. 

Soon you were carefully making it down the snowy steps, trying to get to your car when Josh froze on the bottom step. You nearly collided with his back when you looked in the direction he was looking at and made direct eye contact with…your father. Your dad was standing on the covered porch, drinking a coffee. 

Well fuck. 

Josh and your dad seemed to be in a weird staring contest, silently communicating with each other. 

You stepped around Josh, hitting your key fob to unlock your car. 

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I told you you were always welcome at my house, Josh…” 

Your face flushed with embarrassment, “oh my god, Dad…” 

Quickly you and Josh bolted to your car, but not before Josh gave a toothy grin and wave at your dad, exclaiming, “nice to see you!” before shutting his door. 

You gave him a look as you clicked your seatbelt and started the car. 

He threw his hands up. grinning, “what? It could’ve been worse.” 

But as you pulled out of your driveway, and pulled up to the first stop sign on the street, Josh reached over the console and took your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips and giving them a soft kiss. The embarrassment from earlier melted away as he gave you that look again.

Your cheeks betrayed you and splotched with red. Inwardly you figured you’d always do that when he looked at you like that, and the thought warmed you instead of bothering you this time. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled into Josh’s family driveway. The drive over had been pure muscle memory and comfortable silence between the two of you. 

But as you got out of your car, you were met with the all too familiar voice of his youngest brother, Sam. 

“Oh my fucking god, I knew it!” He yelled from the top of the driveway. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Josh warned as he rounded the car to you and took your hand.

“Shut up, Sam,” the younger brother mocked right back at him, laughing his signature laugh. 

But for once, the holidays didn’t seem as daunting now that you had your best friend, Josh, back at your side. 

Fin

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema, @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @childinthegardenn , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace , @lipstickitty , @jjwasneverhere , @josiee-gvf , @peaceloveunitygvf , @musicislove3389 , @gretavanhockey , @gretavanazula

[nemisisnemi]

Nemi’s 100 followers Art Raffle! 

I’m holding this event as a way to thank you all for getting me to 100 followers :D 

I’d like to give a special thanks to: ( @loser-jpg @spookyavenuestreet, @lemonchuu @artistnettles, @nyx-of-night, @celestcelest, @vauxxnm (and so many more i cannot @ in one go due to the tag limit but you know who you are!! I'll be tagging more ppl in the reblogs!) for supporting me on my journey all the way to 100 followers! Thank you for always interacting with my posts <3 

EVENT RULES: 

No harassment is allowed. You will be taken out of the raffle and blocked. 

If you have multiple accounts, be sure to link your other account(s) in your bio or intro post. 

Do not ask me when I will be starting the pieces. I have a busy schedule and do not know when I will have the time. 

No NSFW & suggestive requests allowed!!  No furry & mecha requests, I do not have the skillset to draw these. 

The winners must send me(preferably multiple) references and or descriptions of what they want drawn. Any overly complicated details and or clothes will be simplified. 

The winners will be allowed 2 changes when I check in with them with their pieces. 

GUIDELINES + INFO: 

This event will be held for a week from (July 23 12:00 am - July 30th 11:59pm est time) and I’ll randomly select the winners at the end of the week via the wheel of names (https://wheelofnames.com/)

To enter, all you need to do is to reblog this post with the tag “nemi 100 followers event”! Each username will apply as an entry. While multiple reblogs are appreciated, you’ll only receive one entry to give everyone a fair chance! Any follows during this event are greatly appreciated

There will be 5 winners selected in total

The 1st & 2nd place winners get to choose one of the options I've given and the rest of the winners will get their respective prizes. Once the 1st & 2nd place winners have selected their choice, it cannot be changed. 

I will be tagging & DMing the winners so make sure you have your dms opened! If there is no communication from the selected winners within 24 hours, I will select someone else for that slot. 

Prizes:

1st place: (choose only one of these options!)

Full body colored/rendered piece w/ a simple background 

2 characters simple interaction bust shots in one drawing sketch/clean lineart (can be characters or ocs but no color!) 

one character colored bust shot w/ simple background 

examples below!:

first piece(from left -> right) is full body example, 2nd one is of the bust shot, 3rd one is the type of rendering I'll be doing, 4th one is an example of the sketch I will be doing

2nd place: (choose one only)

a full body sketch/lineart piece w/ no color & background 

one character bust shot w/ no color & background

examples below!:

ignore the doodles around the first piece, but that will be somewhat what a full body no color will look like, 2nd piece is closer to what the style might be in & is also what the bust shot looks like.

3-5th place: one character bust shot w/ no color & background 

If you're curious on what my current art style looks like, go through my recent posts or master list! The examples I gave aren't 100% accurate to how my art looks like right now.

link to masterlist: here

I would like to give another special thanks to @/celestcelest @glidiaxoxo @raguiras @twistedwonderlandshenanigans for helping me with this event. Go show these people some love!! This event would not be possible without their help!! 

Good luck to everyone and thanks for participating!! 

[angelstate]

OlderBoyfriend!Price x BimboFem!Reader.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who constantly caters to your every need, handing you his debit card and telling you to go shopping without him because he has too much paperwork to catch up on, but makes you promise you’ll give him a fashion show of what you bought when you get back.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who makes the most of the time he has with you when he’s home, letting you put on face masks he doesn't know what they are even supposed to do, taking baths with you, and doing a skincare routine you recently found and bought with his card.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who immediately changes the TV to a movie you like when you enter the living room even if he’s watching a football match of his favorite team, knowing how much you enjoy having movie nights with him and don’t get to do it nearly as much as he knows you want to. 

OlderBoyfriend!Price who doesn’t care about having to spend hours explaining a topic to you because he loves to spend time with you and teach you things you probably forget the next day. even going as far as buying books about certain topics and reading them to you before going to sleep, knowing his voice puts you to sleep better than any amount of melatonin could.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who ties your shoes for you, aware of how much you enjoy the princess treatment he gives you, especially does it when you two are in public because is his way of showing you off in a way a sweet and caring manner.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who brags about you every time the topic of a relationship appears, making small comments about your pretty little mind, your sweet nature, your opinions, everything. he doesn’t overshare of course, at least not about your intimate life. That part of your relationship is only for him and you to know about.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who claims you in the most gentleman-like ways he can think of when in public, not being the type of man who likes being overly intimate with you when others are around. placing a hand on your lower back when you two are walking around, kissing your forehead and the back of your hand when he is having a conversation so you don’t think he has forgotten about you, giving you his jacket to wear when it gets cold. princess treatment all around.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who despite the age gap between you two, always tries to understand the trending topics, letting you explain to him the TikTok trends you’ve seen or celebrity drama he couldn’t care less about, but he listens to you either way, and pays attention, making questions and little comments, because he wants you to know he’s listening and cares about you.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who chuckles every time he looks at you after spending a few minutes talking about a topic and notices you didn't understand but chose to pretend you did to not interrupt him, and he mumbles something along the lines of “need me to explain it, pretty girl?” his voice gruff but holds a certain softness when he’s talking to you.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who never makes you feel stupid when talking to him, gives you time to process the information and tries to simplify the topic as much as he can. making sure he explains everything in a detailed but easy way and doesn’t care if he has to repeat the same thing five times if that’s what it takes for you to understand.

OlderBoyfriend!Price who would rather keep the details of his work hidden away from you, not wanting for the gruesomeness of his job to be of your knowledge, only letting you know he is a soldier and his rank as a Captain. 

OlderBoyfriend!Price who often tells you about Ghost, Soap and Gaz even though he prefers if they don’t visit your home, not because he wouldn’t like for you to meet them but because he knows you would want them to come around often and he isn’t too keen on sharing you with a lot of people, and he doesn’t have much time before he gets deployed again after all, so he would much rather have you all to himself for the time being.

[hamliet]

Do you have any thoughts on how RWBY handled the white fang storyline?

Unpopular opinion: it's decent?

Now, now, before people come at me with pitchforks: yes, it's overly simplified. The entire story is a fairy tale, though, so that's not out of place. It also complements the rest of the story thematically, and manages to incorporate nuance and complexity in despite the simplification of issues.

I think it's a mistake to look at the White Fang as a 1=1 of the real life struggles of marginalized groups. That said, there obviously are parallels, and so people aren't mistaken to note those. I just think it's not meant to be an instructional manual and shouldn't necessarily be viewed as one, but rather a conversation starter in some ways. And yes, those conversations can and should include critiques.

So I'll go over the points that I think it did well and how those ties into real life, but also specifically how they work for RWBY's overall story. This does not negate criticisms, especially those by marginalized groups.

In contrast to some other fictional depictions, RWBY actually is better as well because it avoids the number one pitfall of such issues: the X-Men fallacy. I've talked about this in terms of Attack on Titan before, but essentially it's the idea that the problem with depicting discrimination against superpowered people is that, well, there is a logical reason for people to be concerned about superpowers; hence, it almost justifies that very discrimination it seeks to condemn. This isn't present in the faunus/human divide. They are both capable of superpowers.

It also doesn't fall into another common pitfall: the idea that people have to be perfect to be victims of discrimination. The White Fang... has senselessly and cruelly murdered people; doesn't mean faunus discrimination isn't also cruel and senseless and doesn't justify it. And this is something that we do see in real life too--people trying to either completely whitewash the actions of radical anti-oppression movements, which can do awful things, or trying to use these awful things as evidence that these people deserve discrimination when really it's a result of rage and desperation at a society that refuses to give them anything. That doesn't justify the pain of the victims of the awful things (see, Weiss) but nor does it negate the righteousness of that anger.

It does portray the faunus as a fairly diverse group too, when fiction often portrays marginalized groups as a monolith. That's not true. People from one group have very different ideas about what liberation looks like, and what they want to achieve. People in marginalized groups are people, and they can be motivated by a variety of selfless principles and egotistical validation, and neither negate the other. See, Sienna vs. Ghira vs. Adam.

Now, of course within RWBY Ghira's more nonviolent principles more or less win out. That's because RWBY is again a fairy tale where you have to fight to live, but that also doesn't endorse violence. If you expected otherwise, wrong genre. Of course the real world is far more complex, but it's not as if there is no real world basis for this either. Peacemakers exist, and nonviolence has accomplished a lot before. Whether or not that's the be-all-end-all of the faunus struggle in RWBY isn't even clear, so I don't think it's intended to be the be-all-end-all preached moral as it applies to the real world either.

Story-wise, the White Fang functions as a Jungian shadow of society. If you do not take charge of your own life, you are letting others decide for you. The faunus who disagree with the White Fang take it back, because they have to acknowledge it to move forward in society. They have to integrate with it, and accept their own humanity: capable of good and what they might rather deny.

This faction--the faunus who don't like the White Fang--are represented in Ghira, who becomes passive and steps back from aspects of the movement. However, when Blake arrives in Menagerie, this changes, because Blake's entire arc is about integration. Ghira then becomes active, working for the rights of the faunus and for the White Fang to be better rather than simply disavowing the White Fang in an attempt to be a good person, because doing nothing isn't exactly good.

On a more character level, the White Fang exists for Blake's arc. Her Jungian archetype is the Shadow. Like, it's literally her semblance's name. Hence, the idea of the shadow is gonna be important. If you want more on this, @aspoonofsugar has written a meta on it here and another here.

So, for Blake, on a personal level the White Fang (especially under Adam) represents the parts of herself she doesn't like. The part that ran from her family. The part that is violent. And yet, she cannot abandon it or simply disavow it. No, the answer is instead:

We’re not going to destroy the White Fang. We’re going to take it back.

She has to integrate with it, take the good--the righteous anger, the focus on justice and equality.

The White Fang also comments on the microcosm/macrocosm of alchemy.

For the unaware, RWBY is an alchemical story, and the principles of alchemy are represented in the symbol for the philosopher's stone, as seen above. Microcosm: the smaller circle enclosing two people in the center who come together (hence chemical weddings). The square is the four elements: water, earth, fire, air. The triangle is body, heart, and mind. The larger circle is the macrocosm.

The Shadows for Blake on a personal level--microcosm--is Adam. The Shadow on a worldwide, big picture scale--the macrocosm--is the White Fang. Integrating with the shadow isn't only an individualistic endeavor, but also one that benefits society as a whole and brings life to the entire world. The main point of alchemy's philosopher's stone, which Blake, along with the rest of RWBY, are symbolically being transformed into.

I think the main issue with the White Fang, by the way, is its handling of Adam. Typically you don't kill the shadow, though I do think Blake kinda had no choice. Still, I don't think the show fully explored him.

Yet what does work with what we have is that Yang has to face Adam, Blake's shadow, to be with Blake. Yang losing her arm to Adam parallels her being upset about losing Blake to fear, because symbolically Blake can hurt her deeply in the way only a lover can. Blake has to stop running from her shadow and allow herself ot be known and seen by Yang to be with her.

[thekirammanjinx]

I think there are some people that are overly self righteous when it comes to Arcane in particular, it’s like they have missed the entire point of the show. It’s tiring and disappointing. And it’s so much worse when a sapphic couple is involved.

Like when it comes to CaitVi, people are so critical and striving for an impossible “perfection”. I always see antis being like “well Cait is a cop! I can never support it”, “the jail scene was so icky”, “Cait should have apologized this way.” We give so many passes to heterosexual couples and m/m ships than f/f ships. People really need to pay attention to the context of the show , especially when it comes to subtle details in animation. Also like you said, relationships can be messy and unhealthy at times but that doesn’t define it for the long term. They made that clear about Caitlyn and Vi tbh.

Sorry for the long one but I’m just tired of the constant negativity

Truly people are so self righteous and pretentious. Like no you're not morally better than anyone because you don't like the fictional "cop ship"(as if a million of these dont exist for m/f). People truly did miss the point of the narrative and Cait's role in being an enforcer. A character can be a cop without the show being copaganda.(this got long thank you for the ask)

But if these people lack so much cognitive thinking that every show that involves a cop is copaganda then maybe there is no hope. Truly missing the entire narrative. A story is being told, how about stop thinking you're better than people because you think you're above it all and start actually viewing the media in front of you??

The standards that people put on f/f relationships gets so exhausting. Just because the show didn't unravel in the way they would want in some fanfiction then they deem it bad or unsatisfactory. Or suddenly the character is ooc. Actually I don't think alot of these people know the characters. They've just created a version of these characters in their own head.

Fandom has gotten into the habit of labeling everything "toxic". Like no it's not toxic. They handled real emotions poorly. They made bad decisions in the face of battling said emotions. No Cait/Vi isn't toxic or abusive. People who say they are an example of domestic violence... please for the love look up and learn what domestic violence is.

A moment of physical assault does not necessarily equate to abusive. The two can be mutually exclusive. Please read the narrative in front of you.

I don't know what moral grand standing people think they're achieving but I promise the only thing they'll be achieving is continuing to reduce the f/f representation we get on screen. Why do m/f relationships get to be bumpy and have their ups and downs but f/f have to check off every perfectionist and purist box.

Let f/f be complex. Let f/f relationships that exist in complex universes be complex. Let there be moments that they regret because they lashed out because of their emotions. Let female characters be well rounded.

Speaking of details of animation. This show is so richly crafted, there's so much put into the facial expressions and posture and everything. This is visual media people. Please learn to take in the full picture this is not an audio book or podcast. Watch with your eyes please.

Speaking of giving m/f a pass, i love timebomb but nobody says they're toxic or talks about how jinx was terrible to ekko and the firelights. They got one au episode and suddenly forget all that happened before then? Nobody is begging for an apology there. Nobody is talking about how jinx could've killed them both on the bridge. Or how they had little interaction outside of those scenes if any.

Caitvi is deemed rushed or unsatisfying but they had to pull in an au episode/timeline for ekko to reach out to jinx. People say Vi only arc is in Caitlyn(guess we forgot about vander and jinx--again over simplifying a character story just because it's not what they wanted to see), but what was ekko arc at the end?

I'd be fine if people were giving the same energy across the board but no. Once again we are here watching people tear down a f/f ship.

"We deserve better" bitch China won't even let the girls talk to each other on screen and rest their head on each other's shoulders. Get a grip.

[vhvrs]

needed a more accurate ref sheet for these two so u r looking at that!!!! simplified some details to be less overly complex n tightened up the palettes in the process

additionally comments including previous info i dont wanna link to and way too much world info:

as b4, rick is a normal human. morticia is a half-witch - jerry is the witch bloodline in question (agony to rick bc he was hoping this was a verse beth DIDNT marry jerry when he found out). witches live in a kindve attached dimension to earth. magic shit. he likes collecting witch literature bc theyre so fucking weird n usually infused w weird magic.

rick is v nice by rick standards n also a major creep lol. the medical shit does weird most ricks out n also they think hes a pussy for caring so much abt kerping morticia safe n sane (except for x-143 on both 😘)

ricks science tends to focus on biology n hes REALLY excited by medical procedures n discovering how different soecies function. he does regular rick shit on occasion but hes kindve too lazy n comfortable to do shit morticia isnt up for too. hashtag most normal rick. used to be more dickish but he got humbled fast by the world lol. they do bicker like regular rick n mortys though. still very much has the capacity to be a normal rick if provoked.

these two are in an oc verse i have too much lore for so i could really go on all day abt the specifics but to be vague witches are a subrace of things called shadows. considered humans while humans are considered mortals. lifespans are expanded. harder to kill. witches even half witches typically have grey skin too but i needed morticia to be visibly herself. witches are the only shadows who can do magic from birth, while other shadows (its pretty much just witches, fae folk, and deathwalkers/normie supernaturals) have to learn it n usually HAVE to use channeling devices like wands while witches use their hands. magic users typically have an element they naturally are good at n can learn others - these other elements are usually what wands are for.

public displays of magical scars is considered like. uncouth. even the hand ones, thus gloves are a societal default and otherwise ur supposed to cover up or charm evidence away. rick obviously does not give a shit n it makes him stand out a LOT more than he should. bc of this, morticia is a lot more comfy around him n more confident as a result. ricks also the only person whos seen her hands ungloved bc of needing to patch her up after backfired adventures. highly personal thing in witch culture etc.

as the last scarring is also considered improper to show off bc 'only non-witches fuck up magic enough to get scarred' witches are v high-society pretentious types, usually high in the government etc. other shadows dont give a shit lol.

scars in question are all from morticias electricity magic kindve exploding on them during a really high stress situation. yewouch!

uh oh morticia goes to a mage academy. public educations kinda meh among shadows but witches have fancy magic schools. full-time magic users are called mages (pc term bc witches used to just claim it b4 other ppl started doing magic too) bc everythings complicated w shadows.

[exn0bis]

So. Completed Veilguard. I have lots of thoughts.

Regardless, I don't think I'd be saying anything that hasn't already been said.

For my part, I went in with the expectation it was going to be bad. I was pleasantly surprised by some things, certainly by the technical aspects, but it fell about where I expected in most other ways.

But first, the good.

It was extremely refreshing to see a AAA game actually release so well optimized for once. I'm running an older system at this point, with a GTX 1080 TI. Even so, out of the box, I was able to run things on the Medium preset perfectly. After some troubleshooting the latest Nvidia driver, and updating the games native upscaling to FSR 3.x, I was running things on a mix of High & Ultra with minimal to no frame drops. This was way beyond what I expected, and made the play experience more enjoyable. While I do think that, like many games in the past few years, there is some over reliance on upscaling to make it look its best, Veilguard still maintains excellent visual fidelity without it.

On that note, the game is objectively gorgeous, regardless of how one feels about the art style (which I did personally like, too); I'm also extremely impressed how they adapted a simulated strand hair system into something playable in real-time without it being overly taxing. Would love to know the technical breakdown for that specifically, but either way, I would not be surprised if we start to see more games released with something similar going forwards.

Veilguard very much proved you can make something look gorgeous and still have it be playable on more than just the latest and greatest systems, and I hope it will encourage more studios to focus on how they optimize and implement their work.

I also found the general gameplay mechanics to be, overall, enjoyable. I was hesitant going in, as I'm 1) bad at games, and 2) from a CRPG background, so the real-time style of combat is not generally something I'm good at. I was also concerned about the stripping down of party mechanics, etc, that was a big part of the previous games. And while I do wish the party tactics had been a little more varied, I ultimately found combat fun and responsive, and that they struck a reasonable balance between simplicity with party, and overly tactical. It did have way too many buttons & combos for me, but that is definitely a me being bad at games thing and not a fault in the game.

I also was extremely impressed with how smoothly the game transitioned from gameplay to cutscenes, and I really liked the more open maps/elimination of excess loading screens.

Unfortunately, that is about all the praise I have for the game.

I'm not really going to talk too much about the complete disregard for the world state built by previous titles, because I think all that needs to be said about that has been. I agree that, from a development standpoint, they needed to find a way to simplify things. However, going so totally scorched earth that character creation literally states "you don't need to customize your previous choices if you don't want to because it doesn't really affect anything" only serves to insult and infuriate the very dedicated player base.

It's very clear that the goal of Veilguard is to wipe the slate clean for the purposes of rebranding and bringing in new players for future installments/capital. Considering the mass layoffs at Bioware, and EA's generally established business practices, this sort of tactic isn't really surprising, no, and was truthfully only a matter of time. But that doesn't stop it from feeling like a slap in the face.

That being established, the total disregard for existing lore, world state, impact of previous titles, glaring plot holes within Veilguard itself, etc, is unfortunately to be expected. No point in picking it apart individually, as it's all just a symptom of the goal of a clean slate reboot.

Which isn't to say I wasn't cursing at my screen by the end of it, but I digress.

I had hoped I could at least enjoy the game as something new, turn off the part of my brain that associated it with Dragon Age and just play it as a stand alone thing. This even worked for the first chapter or so, as I was really enjoying the exploration and gameplay. And then I started recruiting more people. And the main plot started to really get going. And turning my brain off suddenly stopped helping.

The writing is awful, full stop. It's all incredibly surface level and sanitized, and it treats the player with such ineptitude I started to feel like the game had actual disdain for me for trying to play and enjoy it. If I had a dollar for every time an NPC explicitly repeated a plot point or goal immediately after a cutscene that had already painfully spelled it out for me ended, I would have recouped the price of the game three times over. I get that reading comprehension is at an all time low, but holy shit. I paid for a sweeping fantasy narrative, not a degradation simulator that treats me like a moron.

If we manage to put that aside, we're left with a narrative that spends every spare second trying to convince you of how high the stakes are and how important your relationships will be to get through it... and then never actually manages to deliver on any of it. The game repeatedly shies away from showing you anything actually bad, or building anything actually meaningful.

Yes, we see the Blight being gross and a few choice deaths, but that's it. The mass devastation we're told is constantly happening all over Thedas? The staggering amounts of death taking place? The oh-so-vile practices and punishments of our main antagonists? Anything and everything that has to do with the extremely prevalent theme of slavery? That all happens off screen, if it happens at all. Somewhere nice and clean and safe for it to exist, sanitized of any tension or emotional impact. I cannot decide if the flagrant pacing issues in the narrative are a product of the missing tension, or their own problem.

And those important relationships we're told about follow the same pattern. Even if we ignore how everyone speaks to each other like they're reading the script of an HR Workplace Togetherness video, their personal stories are devoid of the stakes we are assured they have. I wanted so desperately to care about the things these character's cared about, but I left still unconvinced the character's themselves even gave a shit.

And with a shallow plot comes a shallow character; I felt no attachment to any of them, despite telling myself they'd grow on me as I progressed. Of course, I also didn't dislike any of them, either; I just didn't care, and I find that infinitely more damming.

I think what I find most frustrating is that the potential in the characters is there, at least. They're each interesting concepts with interesting themes, and every so often I'd get a cutscene that actually got me to feel something, to react, and I'd get excited thinking 'oh, this must be when it gets good.' But no, as soon as you're out of the cutscene, it's situation normal again. No more feelings, no more tension. That all happened off screen, again. Any emotional turmoil the character in question was in moments before is now gone in favor of Group Togetherness.

Rook is no exception to any of this, either; exactly as tepid as the rest, but coated with an even less polished illusion of substance. This is not helped by the fact that the game makes an active effort to remind you that Solas is the actual main character of this story. Rook, you as the player, are just sort of... there.

The headcanons I've seen from fans do more justice to this entire cast than the game ever does.

In summary, it's sad, I think. It's ultimately what I expected, but it's sad. Many of us have a very deep attachment to Dragon Age, the story and the community that built up around it. I literally met my wife through the Dragon Age fandom. I learned to explore some deeply personal things about myself through how I related to the story and characters because of how much depth and nuance there was to examine. To see all that reduced to what amounts to a very prettily polished turd is just... yeah. Sad.

I'm really happy that there are people who have enjoyed the game. Genuinely. I hope they'll continue to do so. Myself, I'll probably still go on a screenshot binge and enjoy how pretty it looks, too. But Veilguard is very much the end of Dragon Age, for me. And I'm sad about it.

[offtorivendell]

The possible significance of Azriel and Elain Archeron, the Embrace of Solas and Cthona, the paired blades Gwydion and Truth-Teller, and thin places; a theory

Disclaimer: this is a theory that came to me while reading HOFAS, and as usual it makes absolutely no claim of being canon. It builds on past theories that my friends and I have written about Elain, Azriel, the revival of certain lands, the blades Truth-Teller and Gwydion, and brings in some new info from the latest CC book. It also won't be my best effort, as time is currently lacking. I meant to get this out for @elriel-month but yeah, that didn't happen lol. As usual, rambles and overly long sentences ahead. Sorry!

Thanks as always go out to @wingedblooms and @silverlinedeyes for listening to me rant, and believing me when I say I'll actually get around to writing out my thoughts, even though it takes me ages. I love that so many of our theories tie in well together - please check out their theories, too!

Spoilers: Maasverse spoilers ahead, please proceed with caution if you haven't finished reading.

Gwydion (aka the Starsword) and Truth-Teller; the Made blades

In CC 1 we got a brief description of the stylised version of the Embrace of Solas and Cthona as a necklace, worn by Bryce's mother, Ember:

Five minutes after Bryce got there, Jesiba’s client—a raging asshole of a leopard shifter who believed he was entitled to put his paws all over her ass—prowled in and purchased a small statue of Solas and Cthona, portrayed as a sun with male features burying his face in a pair of mountain-shaped breasts. The holy image was known simply as the Embrace. Her mother even wore its simplified symbol—a circle nestled atop two triangles—as a silver pendant. But Bryce had always found the Embrace cheesy and cliché in every incarnation. - CC HOEAB, chapter 22

Firstly, could this be the (hypothetical) wyrdmark on the left shoulder of the figure on the HOFAS cover? The two mountains are there, but the mark between them isn't exactly a circle, so it's not blatantly obvious, but it's possible (I'd love it if the marks on her arms represented the different gods, or Urd in all of her forms). Perhaps light and dark light cancel each other out in some way? And how relevant will the spiral mark be? Does it represent a vortex/portal opening? Or is it the Cauldron's swirling eddies?

Secondly, I also think the two mountains/triangles and the circle/dot in between them look a little like a basic depiction of Gwydion/the Starsword and Truth-Teller (ie. the points of two blades) with a black dot/black hole/portal to nowhere. It's not exact, because the triangles aren't meeting at the tips, so I'm not super confident in it, but I don't think it's impossible, and it could tie back into the six pointed star, and three pairs of powers gathering in the space where they meet. I promise I'm not trying to claim every little thing for Elriel, and given Nesta has her own trio of Made blades, I suspect they could also be relevant here (if Narben is also found, then there would be six blades for the six siblings and six star points), but as Azriel and Elain were the first two to use Truth-Teller (in recent history), I think it's fair to consider their specific importance here.

Elain, Azriel and the Made blades

I've previously suggested that Elain may have powered Truth-Teller with her light, in order to pierce the fabric of the universe before shadow walking to save Nesta and Cassian in ACOWAR (here and here); this is a theory which is not unique to me, as quite a few of my friends think at least some version of it may be true. However, I believe that what we learnt in HOFAS about “thin places,” and the paired blades Gwydion (the Starsword) and Truth-Teller, could take this a step or three further.

To recap as briefly as possible, Elain previously used Truth-Teller to shadow walk in ACOWAR, and we have since had hints that she may use it again in the future. There are many questions left unanswered about Elain's successful use of what we now know is a Made blade, so we'll have to wait and see.

“You honestly think he’d ever give up Truth-Teller?” “He gave it to Elain,” Mor said, admiring a moonstone necklace in the counter’s glass case. “She gave it back,” I amended, failing to block out the image of the black blade piercing through the King of Hybern’s throat. But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back. Mor hummed to herself. - ACOFAS, chapter 4

As a brief aside, there are also moments tying Elain to the shadows (whether or not it ends up being Azriel's shadows specifically, her own, or the Void in general remains to be seen), and I think we could find out that the middle Archeron sister, who is canonically observant and wise, may have learnt by watching.

Behind me, Mor took Nesta and Cassian by the hand, readying to winnow them to the camp, while shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display. - ACOWAR, chapter 50

Does Elain hear Azriel's shadows singing, and can she and Azriel privately communicate this way?

Did she also hear his siphon singing beautifully in ACOWAR? Perhaps as kin?

The Truth-Teller scene in ACOWAR, below, was also important enough to be included in the ACOTAR Colouring Book.

She refused the knife Cassian handed her, though. Went white as death at the sight of it. Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” His wings had healed—though long, thin scars now raked down them. Still not strong enough, Madja had warned him, to fly today. The argument with Rhys this morning had been swift and brutal: Azriel insisted he could fly—fight with the legions, as they’d planned. Rhys refused. Cassian refused. Azriel threatened to slip into shadow and fight anyway. Rhys merely said that if he so much as tried, he’d chain Azriel to a tree. And Azriel … It was only when Mor had entered the tent and begged him—begged him with tears in her eyes—that he relented. Agreed to be eyes and ears and nothing else. And now, standing amongst the sighing meadow grasses in his Illyrian armor, all seven Siphons gleaming … Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” “I—I don’t know how to use it—” “I’ll make sure you don’t have to,” I said, grass crunching as I stepped closer. Elain weighed my words … and slowly closed her fingers around the blade. Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. Paint that when we get home. Busybody. - ACOWAR, chapter 69

Firstly, @silverlinedeyes has a post that details how similar this passage is to the six pointed star scene from HOSAB, and the potential significance of it with regards to magical balance and the gathering of power(s). It's outlandish, but I think it could be important for any travels to Hel or beyond that the IC may undertake.

Secondly, I find it really interesting that Elain said to Feyre she didn't know how to "use" Truth-Teller; what if she meant she didn't know how to use it magically? I suspect it's possible that Elain didn't open a portal to nowhere (which appears to require both of the paired blades - perhaps their singing wavelengths cancel each other out?), but rather she created a portal to somewhere, and that's how she shadow walked across the battlefield in ACOWAR (aka she "slipped into shadow" and fought anyway). However, as we all heard her say that she didn't know how to use Truth-Teller, but then did, she obviously figured at least some of it out.

Alternatively, as @wingedblooms, @mrspettyferr, @cassianfanclub and myself have all wondered, did she possibly have some help?!

Was it Azriel, who told us in his ACOSF bonus chapter that he didn't need his shadows to read Elain?

Perhaps is was Nuala or Cerridwen, or maybe even Rhys?

Was it Koschei, the Mother, or a prince of Hel who gave Elain a helping hand?

Even then, how did Elain (hypothetically, of course) activate Truth-Teller? Just like Ruhn found Gwydion and Bryce accessed its magic, so I suspect Azriel found Truth-Teller, but it was Elain who first truly used its power (whereas Nesta, who was at the time full of the Cauldron's death magic, appeared to use it as a simple blade, hastening the king's death after Elain struck a fatal blow). Was it because her light stood in for Gwydion’s own magic and charged it? Is that why Azriel - who I have long thought may have Starborn heritage hidden underneath his shadows - has dark light, or shadows, instead of light? Is Truth-Teller actually devouring his light? Or - less likely - could the obsidian (wyrdstone?) blade be possessed by a Valg, or similar being? Though I'm less certain about that last point, as I wouldn't be surprised if the king of Hybern was possessed by a Valg (or similar) type creature, maybe a Daglan, and if that was the case then why would Truth-Teller decide to behave for Elain, unless the Valg* and Asteri/Daglan are enemies… anyway!

*What we learnt in HOFAS, about the blackest salt/obsidian drawing in the princes of Hel (while simultaneously repelling the Asteri/Daglan) makes me wonder about their possible ties to the Valg from TOG, who used obsidian wyrdstone rings and collars as a way to possess host bodies.

I'm not sure. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, because I think Truth-Teller and Gwydion could be stand ins for Elain and Azriel (not necessarily in that order, though I do think a dagger suits Elain better than a sword does in terms of function); a bond needing to be reforged between them has always screamed “renewed shall be blade that was broken” to me (the Ballad of Strider), and the Truth-Teller scene could be suggesting that the grey - as in the blend of light and dark - could be a thin place between them. It would follow that this imagery, albeit very loosely, could be evoking The Embrace of Solas and Cthona, which Ember wears as a necklace, and that could possibly be a wyrdmark on the cover of HOFAS.

“Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two..." Just seems so relevant here.

Cthona and Solas represent dark and light.

Gwydion/the Starsword and Truth-Teller are (bright) light and dark light.

Azriel and Elain are dark and light... or perhaps light and dark?

Are Void and Chaos (the Mother?) involved?

Is the statue of the primal goddess that Nesta notices in ACOSF another hint here?

If being carranam ties into this, would it include Feysand and Nessian?

Light and dark have grey in between them, and the thin places are described as “gray.” Elain was even engaged to a man named "Graysen" for crying out loud; his family’s colour was even cobalt. I would be so surprised if all of this ends up meaning absolutely nothing in terms of her story.

How could Elain and Azriel stand in for Cthona and Solas when Elain is light and Azriel is darkness?

I could definitely be wrong, but instead of purely life, I (and @wingedblooms) prefer to think of Elain as rebirth, which inherently straddles the murky realm between life and death - the grey between light and dark (and grey) - and beautifully fits with her role as a gardener (relevant theories are here, here, here and here), the Book of Breathings rambling about "rot and bloom and bone," her position as the middle Archeron sister, her ability to blend quietly into the background, and definitely the grey of dawn and dusk. Azriel, though? The one Feyre described as the knife in the dark? Well, he has shadows that can brighten into sunlight, and I suspect that may have been what Elain was referring to in ACOWAR, when she said she needed sunshine.

So...

Azriel's shadows lightening into sunshine: Solas.

Elain and her many ties to the earth: Cthona.

I'm unsure if this is trying to tell us that Azriel will be the stand-in for Truth-Teller, because he is "dark light"/has shadowsinging abilities, while Elain is represented by Gwydion due to her prominent (so far) association with hope or brighter light, or whether it's the other way around, and we're actually being told that, while Elain appears to be light and warmth personified, in the future she will carry Truth-Teller, the blade that is her apparent opposite, as Azriel will wield Gwydion* (if they both end up having surprise powers, being able to swap between light and dark). It's all very murky, one might say a grey area. But I do think it likely that Elain and Azriel will each end up carrying either a blade that represents themself or their partner in some way.

* Yes, I know that Bryce gave Gwydion to Nesta, but she already has her own trio of Made blades. If I'm putting money on who will wield it, I think it will be Azriel, Elain or Feyre.

Thin places and Made blades

Before HOFAS was published @cassianfanclub and I had discussed the - we thought - insane possibility of the differently coloured mountain rock in Prythian being significant in terms of their possible salt content, and that it could be no coincidence that the black and grey rock of the Hewn City was in proximity to a known appearance of one “Lord Thanatos.”

Black salts were used for summoning demons directly—bypassing the Northern Rift entirely—or for various dark spellwork. A salt that went beyond black, a salt like the obsidian … It could summon something big. - CC HOEAB, chapter 18

Bryce stiffened at the moldy, rotten earth scent that crept from the bundle as he unfolded the fabric to reveal a handful of rust-colored salt. “What the fuck is that?” Ithan asked. “Bloodsalt,” Bryce breathed. Tharion looked to her in question, but she didn’t bother to explain more. Blood for life, blood for death—it was summoning salt infused with the blood from a laboring mother’s sex and blood from a dying male’s throat. The two great transitions of a soul in and out of this world. But to use it here … “You can’t mean to add that to their water,” Bryce said to the Astronomer. The old male hobbled back down the ramp. “Their tanks already contain white salts. The bloodsalt will merely pinpoint their search.” - CC HOSAB, chapter 38

Mor went right up to the obsidian dais, and I halted at the foot of the steps as she took up a place beside the throne and said to the crowd in a voice that was clear and cruel and cunning, “Your High Lord approaches. He is in a foul mood, so I suggest being on your best behavior—unless you wish to be the evening entertainment.” - ACOMAF, chapter 42

The mountain underneath the House of Wind - the one that houses the library in which I think a certain cat-like darkness could be a prince of Hel - contains both red stone and obsidian doors, with veins of silver running throughout (which reads like hope in the void, like the Velaris Weaver's tapestry, and I suspect may be important for Elain's journey, given she is frequently associated with hope).

Rhys stepped into a hall at the foot of the stairs, revealing a wide passageway of carved red stone and a sealed set of obsidian doors, veins of silver running throughout. Beautiful—terrifying. Like some great beast was kept behind them. - ACOWAR, chapter 20

If @silverlinedeyes, @wingedblooms, @ladynightcourt, @cassianfanclub, @psychologynerd and I are right that Clotho and some of her priestesses are involved in something massive, and have been contacting at least one of the princes of Hel, this would make sense! Black salt to summon something big, and red salt to pinpoint their search. And obsidian doors?!

We then learnt the following in CC HOFAS:

“The black salt, in such high quantity, keeps them away. They never realized that its presence drew us as much as it repelled them,” Apollion said with satisfaction. “It has the same properties that made us immune to the thrall of their black crowns.” - CC HOFAS, chapter

“The black salt only repels the Asteri; the mists repel everyone else. But certain people, with certain gifts, can access the power of thin places—on any world. World-walkers.” Aidas gestured gracefully to Bryce. “You are one of them. So were Helena and Theia. Their natural abilities lent themselves to moving through the mists.” - CC HOFAS, chapter

Elain is almost certainly a world walker - doe eyes searching across the world! - and Azriel may be one as well, but what if it is everyone who can winnow? Or just those like them, with a deeper affinity to the Void? And are they walking thin places themselves/as a partnership (remember the charged glance they shared last winter solstice), or do they just have a natural ability to make use of those which exist in the wild? Or is it some combination of the above?

Additionally, the obsidian hilts of Truth-Teller and Gwydion appear to be incredibly important here. In addition to the possibility that the Illyrian runes Truth-Teller carries on its scabbard may in reality be wyrdmarks, what if the obsidian hilts both summon the bearer in a way that allows them to access the void/murky realm and provides protection from any prying Asteri/Daglan eyes? Are the hilts made from wyrdstone? What about Koschei? Is Truth-Teller the reason his magic captured Cassian instead of Azriel in ACOSF?

There are so many possibilities beyond shipping, though given this is romantasy we know the relationships are more important to the story than your average romantic side plot, so we really can't separate the two while theorising. But either way, I'm so excited to see where this leads, and if we'll finally get detailed information about the gods in each or SJM's worlds, and how they may function throughout her extensive literary universe.

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading!

[badsassitude]

The Boyfriend: Why Shun Needs Hugs (Deep Dive Part 1/3)

My brain does not want to shut up about the dynamics on this show, and I am ready to fight everyone talking smack about Shun.  Look, that boy needs to be hugged, not shamed, and that is a hill I am ready to die on.  

Emotions are complicated and messy. Sometimes the things we want the most are the things we are the most scared of, and sometimes we desperately struggle between wanting to connect and wanting to protect ourselves from pain and doing neither well. It’s a bit like trying to go left but also go right and just pacing back and forth and not going anywhere. What was meant initially to be a simple reflection of exploring Shun’s behavior through the lens of attachment theory took on a life of its own, and now we have parts.

So here is part one, in which we look at Shun's behaviors through the lens of anxious attachment and I draft adoption papers 24 years too late.

Shun as presented in episodes 1-6 of The Boyfriend, has anxious attachment written all over him. **I think it is MASSIVELY IMPORTANT to understand that I am not saying Shun has an anxious attachment style.** First and foremost, what we as watchers see is only a series of filmed interactions edited together. Even if we could see 24/7 unedited footage from the moment Shun stepped into the Green Room, we would still only be seeing a small part of Shun’s life, during a time where he is outside of his normal life and environment. Secondly, we can only see what is outwardly observable, so at best our perspective is based off of guesses and interpretation for which there is no way to validate, elaborate on, or clarify.

For context, in a super brief, overly simplified cliff notes version: anxious attachment is one of the insecure attachment styles included in attachment theory.  Attachment theory describes common behaviors and characteristic of 4 primary attachment styles (of which anxious attachment is an insecure attachment style).

Second note: attachment is not static, remember, emotions are complicated and people don’t fit into neat little boxes. How we attach in different relationships with different people at different points in our lives is unique to that relationship and that context. 

Now back to Shun (well, my interpretation of the Netflix reality TV edited version). Some behaviors I have seen demonstrated by Shun in the show that characterize anxious attachment include:

fear of rejection 

Frequent need for validation, reassurance, attention 

Low self-esteem 

Intense desire for intimacy and closeness, but afraid of abandonment- contributing to the push/pull of clingy to pushing away

Difficulty trusting others 

Jealousy 

For children who grow up feeling as if their needs are not met, with inconsistencies in caregiver responses and an environment that feels unpredictable and perhaps unsafe - they have a higher risk of developing an insecure attachment style (such as anxious attachment) because they did not experience secure attachment bonds. 

Think about what Shun has shared of his story:  Shun never knew his parents. Most likely they abandoned him, and he doesn’t know why. He grew up in a children’s home/orphanage. He was raised by caregivers who took care of him because it was their job. It is reasonable to infer that there was likely turnover in staff at an unknown frequency, and there was likely inconsistency in how staff treated him. It is possible that other children came and went, possibly were adopted. There was nothing stable or secure in that environment, and the even the most loving of caregivers weren’t family and could leave at any time. 

Additionally, he made two comments that set my trauma spidey-senses tingling. Per the Netflix translation, Shun said “Even there… I went through a lot.” Quickly followed by, “And… well, after a lot happened, I ended up coming to Tokyo on my own.” He then added that since coming to Tokyo he has been free, which was said with a little smile and a nod that pierced me to my core. The way he presented while telling his story, so matter of fact with a level of detachment, is very consistent with how I have experienced many trauma survivors telling their stories. 

Now add to all that what he has shared about his past relationships - primarily that he had experiences with “player types” that were clearly painful enough that seeing whatever pictures he saw on Dai’s phone triggered him to the point of tears. He described one relationship as horrible, he “couldn’t get out of it.”  

When you think about what that man has been through, is it that strange that while he may desperately long for love and intimacy, that he’s also terrified of being vulnerable in the way you have to be to get it? 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[drill-teeth-art]

I have no idea how to ask but here goes…

How do you shape your characters and your designs so good??? The shapes of them are soo good! Big, slim, sharp, round, etc! They’re all so good, how do you design them so well??

I could write an entire book on character design and how it's changed over the years and how open ended it is and what I think are good principles and what commonly shared rules are honestly a bit too overly restricted because I'm crazy about character design but! Shape work. Let's stick to that for now.

Now of course for bodies and body types my number one recommendation is: For the love of god look at real people of different body types look at actual photos of fat people and skinny people with different bodies different distributions of their weight look at disabled bodies look at trans bodies look at people of all different races and draw them and learn PLEASE.

Additionally...

Here's a little design principle I like to work with that I find very helpful for spicing up my designs. I find the common character design advice of "simplify your design to ONE major shape motif! circles for friendly characters. squares for stubborn characters. and triangles for villains." to be overly restrictive. And of course the pros giving you that advice aren't trying to say you have to do every design in that framework every time. But they're not really going into detail on how you can use more shapes to add more layers and interest to your character design. Also tbh I think that the "circles for friendly characters and etc" piece of advice is stupid actually. You can easily make a villain character that is all circles and a hero that is all triangles. Plenty exist already in media.

I see a lot of people trying to diversify their body types fall into this trap of drawing all their fat characters with the same fat body type. And even if it is an accurate way fat distributes, it's still not representative of the diversity in fat bodies. Something that helped me (along with looking at references) was introducing secondary shapes. An additional shape motif. As you can see on Toxi here, he's mainly circles and round shapes. But I also added a crescent motif! To broaden his shoulders more and give a pointy and sharp edge to him.

Your primary shape for a fat character doesn't even need to be a circle. Tempos is square heavy with roundness as the supporting shape to emphasize how unassuming and soft he deliberately tries to look. And you can apply this to characters who are slimmer too. Conductus is composed of longer rectangles supported by triangles to emphasize its speed and electrical theme.

Viperos' major rounded shapes are supported by triangles to emphasize their flexibility and power. Gaz's square shapes are pushed with round shapes to make him look stronger and more agile. Mesmeris' crescent heavy design is supported with squares to help her look sturdy and imposing. And it's all about context too.

Squares can read as sturdy and trustworthy or rigid and intimidating. Circles can be soft and friendly or flexible and slippery. Triangles can be speed and cunning but also power and mystery. It's not about saying "circles are always friendly!". You can make villains who are round and imposing. It's more about "I want my character to come across as (blank)" and picking what major and minor shapes you want to use to support that. And (blank) shouldn't be just one word. "I want my character to come across as fast and agile while also being large and round" is a much more clear goal for your design than "I want my character to come across as fast".

And again as always please use references of real people too. You can study my art, and I highly encourage you to study the art of other artists you like and how they design characters. And I highly encourage you to get a solid foundation of "what different bodies look like irl" so you can also be respectful and accurate in your depictions. And remember that creativity doesn't occur in a vacuum. Please take the time to also sit down and watch movies or look at animals or read books or look at videos of machines working or whatever. Look at tons of media. Creative designs don't just spawn from my brain. Toxi's look is partially inspired by centipedes that crawl on ceilings I saw a video of. Viperos' look was inspired by snakes and also roadrunners. I was inspired by that Virus Ghost from Scooby Doo And The Cyberchase for Conductus' look. Please remember research is ALSO part of the design process. So I appreciate you asking me how I do things because asking questions is part of good research!

Anyway! Long ramble! Hope all this helps you in your design endeavors.

[carrionhearted]

I had the longest most vivid dream about binging an animated series, it was SO GOOD, and when I woke up I had to genuinely sit for a moment to figure out wether or not it was real

It was about a small ‘paranormal investigation’ task force in rural Appalachia, one of many stationed across the wider rural Americas. They were mostly tasked with investigating missing 411 cases, but in their investigation (trekking the forest and interrogating the residents of the sleepy town nearby), they’d usually uncover a regular ol murder plot. The guilty party would be arrested, they’d be celebrated by the town, but the task force always left unhappy. This wasn’t what they were looking for. They knew there was something out there, and they wanted to finally know that unknowable truth.

They knew it existed, because it took one of their members. That is, thus far, the only time they’ve witnessed and documented anything legitimately supernatural firsthand.

The main character is a “replacement” for that missing member. She’s very autism coded, knows her shit about the forest, and is very blunt in a way that lends to her investigative work. The other characters include their overly sentimental/ optimistic leader, another lady who is an incredible actor, and their designated driver and tech guy.

Throughout the series, in the background of shots and *specifically* standing behind the missing member in various photos… is an old, too-tall, too-pale, thin haired man with no eyelids. He is suspect number one.

It was a 2D animated series, but the backgrounds almost looked… real? Like actual photos, edited but still high detail in a very uncanny way. The towns all looked withered and borderline apocalyptic. The characters, contrastingly, were quite simplified in style. Sometimes photographs of the characters would show them with “real photo” bodies and a cartoon head. The entire vibe balanced humour and genuine unease, the contrast made the moments of dread more palpable. It reminded me a bit of gravity falls.

Like I can remember specific shots, specific dialogue exchanges, settings and plot lines and. I woke up baffled that this wasn’t real. wtf

[ssruis]

Wrt the people talking about the new set as fan service: my initial reaction was also “oh cute” & moving on, but after carefully reading the full arguments of the people who found it distasteful, I agree with their points. I’d normally link or post screenshots of the points made, but since the Prsk fanbase apparently is jumping people over this on twt I don’t feel comfortable doing that. To summarize and add some of my own explanation:

> everything in gacha games is fan service, which doesn’t have to necessarily mean it’s sexual - ode for the pure of heart featuring rui/touya (popular with female audience) looking very princely was fan service. The white day knight/fantasy theming is fan service (popular & well loved aesthetic). Fantasia squad was fan service for the players who like the male characters, etc etc.

> I don’t feel like arguing about all of the cards, so I’ll just point out what bothers me about the most egregious example (Rin’s card)

When considering art, you have to consider the deliberate choices the artist made, and what messages they are trying to get across with the atmosphere they have created.

Why choose the maid aesthetic? Why make these cards a player pov? Why choose framing that (using the grid composition, contrast and lighting from the window, the way lines direct the eye) makes the points of interest and emphasis Rin’s face *and* butt? Why choose that pose, with Rin looking over her shoulder, with a surprised expression and prominent blush? Why is the posing reminiscent of art of vintage pin up girls (or any other similar art movement)?

It’s male gaze. The answer is male gaze.

The male gaze is often just associated with overt sexualization, but that’s an overly simplified definition. The male gaze can also be portraying women in positions of servitude (most often within the home), emphasizing body curves (even through clothes), voyeuristic povs, emphasizing cuteness/demure-ness/shyness, etc. It’s about the (assumed male) viewer having power over the female subject.

Rin is cleaning, the light from the window heavily highlights her butt, the framing of window itself specifically draws the eye from her head to her back to her butt using contrasting colors/light/point of interest, the parallel lines in the piece direct your eyes down her body (Japanese audience, reading image from right to left). If the emphasis was on the action she is doing, rather than her body, the light source and brightest colors would be on the other side of the image, the duster would be brighter, as would the objects/set pieces she’s interacting with.*

Sexualization/male gaze isn’t restricted to the very obvious “woman sexy posing in a bikini” image, and having that viewpoint will only serve to limit the ways you understand art and artist intention. It’s similar to taking “all art is political” to mean “all art is either republican or democrat” and responding “well that’s stupid and you’re stupid.” You’re missing the point.

I’m a little disappointed the knee jerk reaction here seems to be “you’re wrong and you’re actually a freak who sexualizes minors for pointing this out” here, especially because the point of calling this out is to say that it’s distasteful to do a card like this for a character who is, despite not having a canon age, pretty much portrayed as younger than the main cast (making her 15 or younger).

Nobody is saying “this set sucks you can’t like it if you like it you’re problematic and project sekai should be cancelled forever”, it’s just something to keep in mind. You don’t have to agree with the argument, but acting like anyone pointing this out is insane isn’t fair or justified.

> also just as a side note: maid cafés have a pretty long history of sexualization, with the emphasis/appeal of having power over the workers and them being your servant while dressed cute. I don’t entirely think this set was going for a maid café look, but I do think it’s something to be mindful of.

> *it’s a little hard to articulate/explain this, and my knowledge on how much the average person knows about stuff like this is skewed due to my own education in art/art history/design/etc. If you find this confusing, I’m willing to explain more in detail and specifically point out what I’m talking about.

> I have a different post on the taisho/daisho romance elements, which is an entirely different discussion, so I’m not bringing that up here.

[nica-my-beloved]

This is just my impression so far on the MCs of Ikemen Series. I have seen posts about Ikemen MC not having enough spite, dumb, damsel and distress etc etc....and to some point I do agree with it. Even I made a post about MCs being overly positive. But at the same time I feel like this is done on purpose from the writers' part.

Let's just say it, the MCs are not really that relatable even though they try to make it look like that. MCs in these games are very kind-hearted for no reason, overly positive and lack basic common sense. For example, take this scene from Harry's story event:

Harry did mention to her before this that he can detect if a person is lying or not when he makes eye-contact. In the scene mentioned above, a person with common sense can easily tell that Harry lost on purpose. But for some reason Kate thought he lost because she was able deceived him. It is only later that Harry told her and Kate looked genuinely surprised. I don't think Kate is dumb. But I feel like the writers think we players are not that smart enough to distinguish between Harry's lies and truth. It makes me laugh some times.

I just honestly feel like MCs are portrayed this way so that we players could understand the game and its characters better. Like Paimon from genshin, who repeats everything in baby terms so that we could understand what we have to do (even if her screechy noise is annoying). MCs here are played by us, so when male characters has a plan that they don't reveal, MCs try to find out what their plan is so that we could understand. That's it. MCs are here just simplify the story to make us understand the character's better. They'll only ask the male characters what's needed to know right now and not anything extra. If it where a realistic MCs, she would ask more logical questions like:

Is Victor also cursed?

If Crown consists of only 'cursed' people and Victor went around to search these people, are there any 'cursed' people out there who rejected his request?

More questions on their abilities like: Can Harry still detect lies if someone closes their eye? Can Elbert trigger sad memories if a person doesn't have a sad memory? etc etc...

But we don't see Kate asking these questions.

I feel like the reason why we feel sometimes frustrated when MCs act in a certain way is because these MCs are not at all realistic. I'll never believe that someone with common sense did not try to run away after watching a murder happen. I'll never believe that someone with common sense falling into easy traps. Like this one scene from Silvio's story where, Silvio's daddy visits Rhodolite because his lost son is found and he also wants to know if Rhodolite King is dead blah blah blah...you guys know that story (I assume). Emma has to choose the next King without Silvio's dad knowing and they wait for Sariel's call. A servant comes to Emma's room to call both her and Rio. This servant itself is sus because Emma clearly states that she hasn't seen that servant before. When I read this, I immediately knew it was red flag. But even so, Emma and Rio ignores the red flag and goes with the servant and what do you know? They get kidnapped. The scene was very predictable. But it's so frustrating because, realistically speaking I think normal people would feel a little bit suspicious about the person given the situation. Maybe even question the servant. That's why I'm saying...I do feel MCs are not realistic enough. I don't think anyone is overly-kindhearted to the point that they would accept insults from the male leads and be like "I'm going to prove myself to you!". Normal people would just be like "fuck off!" and won't listen to their insults. No one is so dumb it fall into easy traps and no normal person is like "I will work hard to get to know them better." Majority of the people are way smarter and way selfish (not in a bad way though!). Many people have attitude, not everyone are kind to strangers. That's why MCs are not realistic, so there is no use in comparing MC to your personality or your intelligence. They are just tools for explaining the story in a simplified way and moving the plot forward. Because like I said, if Emma and Rio didn't go with the servant and get kidnapped, Silvio's story wouldn't move forward.

That's all. This no hate, this is just how I felt after reading quite amount of stories both in-game and on tumblr. MC's don't have much background because the writers don't really put too much thought about their personality. MCs are basically last on their lists. They just make sure that she's an adult, working woman (doing some odd jobs like a flowershop lady or something, because I've never seen a CEO MC), and they are very kind for some reason. They don't have family (except for Emma), they don't have a story, they don't have anything that impacts their personality. At least it would have been nice to see why a MC is so kind-hearted would be nice. But otome games' main selling points are the male leads. The male leads falls for MC's purity in their dark world.

[oblivionbladetd]

The great big asterisk that dangles off every post I've made critiquing Lorch's work.

* Is this really the content that makes everything she's done okay?

I'm an absolute shitter to my core, I know this. Though as much as I love treating her as the joke that she is, sometimes you do gotta be serious. I'd never be caught dead participating in this double think where Lily is both a threat to everyone and a self-important goober spinning her wheels, though a threat to a few she certainly is.

I'm about done pulling punches, so if you want to see me pop the lid off my cool, do please read past the cut.

Because I try to keep an open mind, but besides her being a never back down epic pwner of the Cis Het MAGA losers... What is the fuckin draw? Rhetorical question by the way, you needn't look farther than her own wife to know Lily is all about pretending to shelter the disadvantaged as one of the good ones... but if a good chunk of ex-Lily fans would let me know that even that is conditional. She's created a community where you are protected by an Indigenous Trans Woman, to not really protect anybody, cozy up with all manner of people that match her freak that would also like to poke around this community of people that (to overly simplify it) just ain't got no-one else.

The evidence is all around. The effort that it would take to falsify a lot of it is actually quite ludicrous, especially archive and way back stuff. You straight up can't without a small army of top tier hackers.

Like sure she calls us stalkers for... paying any fucking attention? I do not feel like anyone is tapping her phone lines and bugging her house. She can, does, and will continue to just vomit her every life grip, problem, and story at any opportunity! The vast majority of all the evidence we have is evidence she has boldly and willingly volunteered like the braindead, shortsighted dipshit she is. Motherfuckers are not stalking you, if anything they are fishing.

Lastly, though what I feel is most important is knowing it all and just being like, "but she's so entertaining. " fuck outta here. How does any of the mediocrity she let's dribble onto a notepad make the pain that caused okay? "Yeah, I know she allegedly raped her sister but Stockholm and pokemadhouse ate so fire!" Fuckin Dumpster fire maybe. She's got some of the most boring fics if you can ignore that she's not smart enough to hide her true intentions that naturally bubble up from the subtext, the greater half of her critiques are plagiarized and the other totally scatterbrained... where is the appeal?