#ive been wanting to draw this for so long...Todays finally the day

[real-life-cloud]

im GOING to write today ........ i WILL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[todayisafridaynight]

oh my god i forgot to share my delulu-ass dream where i made a masadai doujin

[eupheme]

— i’ll be there

[part iv of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: baker!neighbor!reader, logan pov, soft smut & fluff, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, manual restraints PiV, creampie, light angst, references to anxiety, guilt, memories of canon-typical violence/ death, logan handling his feelings in his own way

a/n: after finishing part iii, there were two ideas in the back of my mind (this, and then fixing [redacted]) so I am back with a little more 💕

Sometimes, it feels as if he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Breath held - bracing for a blow that hasn’t yet come, each time the cracks lengthen in his walls. Letting sunlight seeping through.

So sure it’s waiting on the horizon for him, as it always had done. Has been, since that first night you spent together, all those weeks ago.

Finally allowing himself to exhale - for today, at least - in the darkened room.

It’s late when he twists the handle of the apartment door, easing it open. A habit now, how the keys drop into the ceramic mug on the table just inside, clinking against loose change.

His shadow stretching long across the wooden floor, cast by the light you left on for him in the kitchen. Fingers tug at worn laces, loosening boots that are left next to yours.

Funny how he’s able to navigate this space now, without thought. The old fleece from Wade’s closet slung across the back of an armchair. His feet taking him to the edge of the couch, fingers idly brushing over the stitching of the folded quilt left out for him.

One heartbeat passing, and then another.

He moves on.

The bedroom door creaks on its hinges, as he nudges it open wider.

Light pouring in, letting him see where you curl on your side. The space next to you open - as if waiting for him.

As if you knew he’d be coming.

All he’s wanted to do since Wade turned the car around was get back to right here.

Something loosening in his chest. Fingers working at the buttons of his flannel, then dropping to the heavy buckle at his waist. Stripped down, when he draws back the covers, and slides next to you.

You murmur his name, curl into him. Can’t pretend there isn’t a tugging behind his ribs at the sound.

His fingers drift across skin, tracing the strap of your nightgown. You lips curve up, eyes cracking open.

“You have a good day?”

Logan pauses for longer than he should, turning the question over in his head. Chooses to ignore it, for now.

Chooses to let his head dip, to press his mouth to yours, instead. Letting his mind shut off, letting it go silent for a moment.

Focusing on this, instead.

The tug of your fingers as they slide into his hair. Pulling him close - keeping him there, the sluggish movements turning more lucid as he deepens the kiss. Pliant becoming demanding, and even after the day he’s had, he can’t help the chuckle when your hand curls around his shoulder.

Urging, once more. Fully awake now, lips pressing against his jaw as he follows your whims. Settling between your thighs, cock stiffening with the way you nip at his neck. How you roll your hips upward, until he pins you to the bed himself.

“Missed you.” It’s sighed out.

Something inside his chest thrums, his heartbeat kicking up a notch. The answer coming easily, without thought.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.”

He means it.

Had left a little piece of himself behind when he left early this morning. The echo of your goodbye kiss lingering against his lips, as he had climbed into the car with Wade. Going north.

But he doesn’t want to think about that now.

Now, he’s letting his senses take over, an old habit. Focusing on warmth of you beneath him. Eyelids fluttering shut with the sting of your teeth against his throat. A twitching smile as his hands wander - letting you try to mark him as he finds the hem, slips beneath.

Fingertips dragging over bare skin. Rucking the flimsy fabric up higher each time his hips lift. A low sigh when he finally presses against your bare skin, nudging himself against the soft juncture of your thigh.

Your scent washes over him, drowning out the layer of thoughts that have chased after him all afternoon. Vanilla and sugar and you - he’s tried to taste it before, with the wet drag of his tongue.

Sometimes you smell like him, if he’s lucky, in the early morning, still tucked into bed. Cigar smoke clinging, from where you sat with him on the fire escape. Where he’s left himself painted across your skin.

It’s familiar. It’s as comforting as the pretty noises you make. Hungry for him, fingers tracing along his ribs. Slipping down the slope of his back, trying to tug you to meet him.

Logan is used to rushing things - wants to, after the day he had - but in the night, when he knows you don't have to get up early, it feels like time stands still.

He allows his movements to slow.

The mattress dips as he inches down it. Palms finding the curves of your tits, a soft squeeze against the giving flesh before he’s finding the taut peaks in the fabric with his teeth and tongue.

The silk darkens, as you squirm. A whine is wrenched from your chest, as his mouth closes around you.

The tip of his tongue flicking across your nipple. His other hand drifting down, hiking your thigh higher around his waist.

“Let me-“ It comes from you in a rush, hands tugging at the fabric.

He won’t ruin this one. Knows you like it - instead he balls the fabric from navel to sternum in his fist. Tugs, until your tits slip free.

“Fuck, Logan.” It’s laced with appreciation.

With need, as he sucks a mark against your skin. Another on the soft swell beneath, the pinch of his teeth soothed by the drag of his tongue.

Knowing what he’ll find, when he finally moves down. The fingertips that trail down as he kisses your stomach, your hip - ghosting across your folds, coming back slick.

They slide between his lips. An amuse-bouche to the feast laid out before him - unable to resist the urge to taste you, fingers spit-slick when they return.

“‘s for me?” He rasps, and a laugh slips from you - the soft, muffled sound dragging out into a moan as he traces your opening - sinking down to the knuckle.

“Always for you.”

It loosens a breath he’s been holding all day. Coming out as a rough sigh - your thighs inching wider as he kisses your mound.

Hovering then, just shy of where you need him.

“Really did miss me, huh?”

Can’t help it. Another unconscious nudge, seeking reassurance.

Your hips lift, seeking. Hands trailing down, fingers drifting over your tits, your stomach. Down to stroke your thumb against the bristle of his beard.

“Every time you leave.”

He leans into your touch. Eyes focused on the dark glimmer of your own, as he lets your fingers tangle in his hair. Let's you guide him, a low hum as he closes that final inch.

The tip of his tongue stroking against a spot he knows well, as your moan rips through the quiet. His name following with a soft whimper, and it’s then that his eyes shut.

Focused on the way you smear across his tongue. The wet suck of his finger, sinking into molten heat. Trying to grip him already, clenching around what little he’s given you.

A second teases. Slipping inside, as he tongues at your clit. As you pant, whining - nails pricking against his scalp. Thighs pressing into his shoulders, until he’s hiking one over, and then the other.

His hips flexing, rutting himself into the mattress as you surround him. Fingers curling and stroking, until you leaking against him palm. Until the quiet room becomes a chorus, his name a sweet song on your lips.

“Logan.”

Logan, Logan.

A name stamped on a piece of metal, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful for the way it rushes from you, as if you’ve forgotten all else.

As he winds you up - your grip tightening, but it only spurs him on. Your breath shortens, as his free arm bands across your abdomen, leaving your hips to flex uselessly against his strength.

“Fuck me.” You urge. A hand kneading the flesh of your breast, the other circling around his wrist. Pleading, with the pinch of your brows, as your fingers flex against his iron grip, “Need you, Logan. Want, ah-“

“Come for me first.” It’s close to a growl, his own fingers never stopping. Feeling how you stiffen beneath his arm, on the cusp of something he’s more than happy to give you.

“Want her nice and ready for me.”

You moan at the command. Head tilting back as your body obeys - the “yes” that’s chanted over and over, pitching higher each time.

Stringing out, and then breaking. Your back bows, as the pleasure alights within. Coming hard with rhythmic throb he can feel against his tongue, that tight pulse around fingers.

He doesn’t let up until you’re squirming away from the press of his mouth. Puffy and slick where you warm his fingers, your arousal already leaking down to the curve of your ass. Swollen with desire, and he swears he feels you clench one last time, when he slips them free.

Another kiss pressed against you, one that has you sighing. Wriggling out of the twist of your nightgown, hooking it around a finger until it pools on the floor below.

Still begging for him as he lifts himself up. Closing the space between you as he shifts forward, palms curving against your hips as he kneels between your thighs. Your eyes drunken with pleasure up close - soft and hazy, your smile coming easily.

His hips rock forward on their own in response, unable to help pressing himself against you. A sticky spot of need left behind, smeared against your skin.

Your fingers pinch against his forearms as you push yourself up to your elbows, eyes dipping down. He knows you can see what he can, as his own head tilts - the swipe of his cock against your folds.

How they part for him, when he teases you - slipping the fat head against your entrance. Knows you imagine it - you’ve told him what you think about when he’s away.

How it’s never enough. Never him. Watched you show him how you fit your fingers inside yourself, but you can never reach the places he can.

He sinks into your heat with a slow thrust. You’re heaven around him, tight and slick and familiar. Teeth clenched as you make room, until he’s buried flush inside you.

Can feel your pulse around his cock, when his eyes close. When he lets all his senses narrow down to the space you’re joined.

Could never last, if he stayed that way. Would get pulled over far too quickly with the way you clench needily around him, trying to coax him to move.

And it’s here, as you beg him for more, that he loses himself. Hands flattening against the mattress as he slips half-way out - the jolt it sends through you, when his hips snap forward.

The gasp it pushes from you, your eyes fluttering shut. A sharp pinch of nails again, but it’s welcome - a low grunt, as he drives home again.

Again, and again. Leaning into the snap of his hips. Your hand reaching, drawing him down to you - mouth tipping up to meet his.

A groan, when you taste yourself against his tongue. Letting his sweep against yours, until you’re panting against his lips. The angle deep, with the way he hovers over you.

His hands fisted in the sheets, now. Using them for leverage, the bed creaking as he ruts himself into you.

A growl slipping from his chest when your fingers start to drift. Knuckles brushing the whorls of dark hair across his chest. Following the trail that leads down, past his abdomen.

The tips ghosting against your clit, just a tease before he’s shifting - a hand curling around your wrist. Bringing it up, pinning it above your head.

“Don’t need it.” It comes out ragged, when it passes his lip.

“Just me, right?”

Logan can take care of you. Stoking the lot embers in your belly, coaxing them to a burning flame.

He needs this.

Needs to be the one to give it to you.

“Just you.” The reply comes automatically. Your other wrist offered as you give him the control he desires, lifted to press into the clutch of his grip.

It makes his own muscles tighten. A deep clench, his cock throbbing inside you. Fingers pinching as he sees the way you give yourself to him.

Face tipped up, bare and stretched out beneath him. The pretty jolt of your tits each time his hips snap forward, and it’s enough that he’s closing those last inches of space.

Fitting himself against you, as his nose buries against your neck. Your thigh hooked over his hip as you chase his mouth, until you’re sighing against his lips.

Knows you can come like this, squirming beneath him, as his hips tilt. As he strokes against the places his fingers know well, your lips parting with a cry.

“Come on, honey.” It’s murmured out. Mouthing at your jaw, the word rasped low in your ear, “One more and then I’ll give you what you want.”

His other hand drifting - elbow and knees taking the brunt of his weight. Down past your hip until his palm curves against your thigh, hiking your thigh up higher.

Opening you up further, when he bottoms out. His breath hot in your ear, panted out each time his heavy sack kisses against sticky skin.

Winding you up, higher and higher. Your body arching against his - toes curling, a heel pressing into the mattress for purchase.

“Oh fuck, keep going,” You beg, trying to meet him - unable to do anything more than take it when he has you pinned like this, “Please, I’m so close-”

“Know you are,” He answers with a rough sound - more growl than words. The flesh at your thigh denting with the press of his fingers, keeping you still so he can pound against the spot that has you seeing stars.

“‘ve got you. Come for me, sweetheart.”

The whine that leaves your lips pitches high, the rushed plea dissolving into needy sounds. Muscles stringing tight, head tipping back as your breath grows short.

His eyes fixed on your half-lidded ones, your lips parted in pleasure. Feeling the crest of your orgasm - the flex of your wrists in his hand, the grip of your thighs as they press against his hips.

It’s different, like this. The pulsing clench around his cock, the press of your body against his. The rush that surges through him at the way you come undone for him - always him - how he’s never been able to get enough.

He’s following soon after, with a snarl.

Unable to get a grip on his restraint. Usually can hold out, needing more.

Another. Another. Another.

Not finished until you’re boneless- pleasure-drunk - and only then does he give in to his own need.

But tonight he’s wrenched over with way you tighten around him. Tendons flexing as the steady saw of his hips grows sloppy.

A punch of metal through flesh, as he throbs - that tightly-wound tension snapping as he spills himself deep inside you with a ragged groan, thrusts going shallow as the tight clutch of your cunt milks him empty.

All those muted thoughts inside his head fading to white noise. Drowned out by the panting of his breath, the thrum of his heart.

The rutting of his hips slow, as he comes back to himself. Always losing control around you. That tight leash slipping between his fingers, piercing through. The pillow tucked under your head shredded, looking as if torn open by a beast.

“Shit.” Logan grunts - as he comes back to himself, flesh knitting together, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

A groan, as he leans back - only to find his grip on your wrists had loosened. That your fingers lace through his now, careful of the tender spots between his knuckles.

“I’ll get you another. I’m-“ He’s starting, but then you’re smiling.

“Good for it,” You finish for him, breathlessly - face tipping up to meet his, “I know.”

Still so soft and pliant. Legs still hooked around his waist as his lips press against yours - urging him to stay.

So, he does.

He still hasn’t moved.

Sometimes, it feels as if he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Breath held as he braces for a blow that hasn’t yet come, each time the cracks lengthen in his walls. Letting sunlight seeping through.

So sure it’s waiting on the horizon for him, as it always had done. Has been, since that first night you spent together, all those weeks ago.

Finally allowing himself to exhale - for today, at least - in the darkened room.

Your nails drag against his shoulders, scratching at bare skin. A little furrow in your brow at the weary sound - unable to help the question that he’s sure has been on the tip of your tongue all night.

“Did something happen at work today?”

It’s met with silence, one minute bleeding into another.

You always seem to know. An innate sense, or far too observant - and if he wasn’t so sure you were human, he’d be think you were like him.

His breathing low and steady as the hours replay in his mind again, a warm exhale against your throat. Still caging you in beneath him, your leg still hooked around his calf.

You don’t push him. He knows what he’s like - that you’ve learned it’s easier to argue with one of the brick walls in your apartment, or to talk sense and logic with Wade, when he gets in one of his moods.

Only when the scratches of your fingers slow to a halt, does he answer.

Finds it comes easier, this late in the night. In this room - his tongue loosened like the rest of him.

“Didn’t go today.”

It’s accompanied by the shift of his hands. Grasping at your waist with a low hiss as he eases from you - your body carefully untangling, as if you’re expecting him to leave.

Logan doesn’t know if he has the strength to, tonight. Instead, he only sinks back against the mattress - his arm sweeping out, tugging you close as you tuck yourself against his chest.

Not knowing where to start, or if he evens wants to - his teeth still pinching at the inside of his cheek. Eyes drifting to the glimpse of the city outside your apartment window. The moonlight that cuts across the angle of his face, a path that you follow with the tip of a finger.

Supposes he could start at this morning.

“Wade’s been talking about X-Force again.” Logan’s fingers catch yours, flattening them against his chest. The words spoken to the ceiling, eyes still unseeing, “Keeps askin’ me to join him.”

You make a low sound at that.

“You don’t have to, Logan.” There’s a twitch of your hand beneath his, “I’m sure he means well, I can talk to him-”

There’s a bloom of affection in his chest, at how quickly you offer. Trying to protect him - as if you could put yourself between him and the ghosts of his past.

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” His eyes drag to you then, crinkling, “Thank you though, sweetheart. ‘s nice of you to offer.”

Unconsciously curling his arm a little more tightly around you when he sees the way you look at him - so fiercely, eyes unblinking. Before he goes somber, loosening his hold on something he’s held close to his chest for a long while now.

“Been thinking about it.” Logan confesses, quietly.

You’re silent, processing his words. The weight of your gaze settling over him.

He gets it - he’s felt the same. Hasn’t said it out loud before - no more than a non-committal sound, when Wade first brought it up.

“Think I liked being a part of something. Back in the void, it felt… good.”

He clears his throat, his gaze drifting from you again. The bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows, fingers twitching against yours.

Had forgotten what it was like. Had rebelled even then - brushing aside the planning until Laura had found him by the fire. Even then he had wanted to discard it. Even as it festered in the night.

But even after everything, he couldn’t let them go alone. Not when he could help, this time.

“So I went today. With him. He was headed up to the mansion, and I thought I could do it. Go in this time, but-”

The sentence hangs, half-finished.

It’s not the first time he’s gone back.

Went the week after he first started staying with Wade. Needed to see if it was still standing.

If the sky was still blue above, instead of being blocked out with ash.

His body had rebelled the whole drive. Had only gone back once in his world. That time no more than a blur and yet the memories had still crashed over him, threatening to pull him under.

Even with the reminder that this mansion wasn’t his rang in his ears, it hadn’t done any good. His mind was never one to truly forget. Spent two hundred years watching places, people change. Ones that once existed, ones that would never look the same - they all existed in him, somewhere.

And even after everything - even after those bouts of not knowing who he was - they still managed to survive, broken into bits and pieces. Tearing its way through his skin to be known.

So even if moss grew high, even as it sat there - overgrown - the memories flooded back.

His feet taking root, at the gate. Unable to make himself take another step further - held in place as if by a force he’d encountered before.

Fleeing, like a scared animal.

But he’d gone again.

And then again.

Drawn back - each time moving just a little bit closer.

Each time still a mile away.

Thought maybe he could do it this time, when he wasn’t alone. Pass over the threshold and inside.

Maybe they’d still be there.

But…

“I couldn’t.” He manages.

Logan knew they wouldn’t be. It had been another knife between his ribs, when he found out they were still gone. The Logan of this world with them, and maybe it was better that way.

He’s met a few that live inside, since. Those who still carried on didn’t bear the hatred that his world did. Didn’t know him like he knew himself.

Didn’t know what he did.

Had only told a few, and even they didn’t look at him the way he was used to - and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either.

Ones like Wade - Wade who had noticed the way he stiffened at the steps to the Mansion.

Grown silent.

If it had been another day, Logan would’ve had something sharp and unpleasant to say about that. But there was a ringing in his ears. Tunnel vision, narrowing down to the old brick.

The dread hadn’t crashed over him this morning. Had been right - Wade’s presence had muted it. Made it bearable, until his eyes had lifted.

Reading the old placard affixed to the stone. The name - worn away, but he knew each letter, the shape of them, by heart.

But it had him giving into the feeling that he shouldn’t be there.

“Five minutes” he had been told. Didn’t know how Wade knew exactly how long five minutes had taken, but he had been back exactly as three-hundred counted seconds had passed.

The afternoon plans dropped - taking him along for a haphazard amount of errands. Laundromat. Grocery Store. Arcade. Discount Outlet. Logan forced to follow, until he’d been able to find himself again. Push down the memories, lock them away, as he always did.

Until it felt like it happened a week ago, instead of this morning. The endless chatter a balm, with its familiarity.

He tells you this now, slowly.

“Thought I was done running.” Logan sighs. A hand scrubbing a little too harshly across his face, pulled from yours, “Guess I was wrong.”

Your brow knits. The look you give him is soft, empty fingers curling.

A breath - as if you’re unsure how he will take what you’ve about to say.

But then it’s slipping from you.

“I don’t think you’re running.” It comes out quiet, but he can tell you believe what you’re telling him.

“It’s okay that you’re not ready. You know that, right? Not everything has to be all or nothing.”

Logan hums.

“Maybe,” You start, carefully. Another breath, and he lets his hand return to yours when you reach for it - resting across his chest.

“Maybe you keep going what you’re doing. Maybe you keep trying. Another step each time.”

There’s an age-old urge to rebel - to push your kindness away. To lean into the voices he’s brought over from his world.

But it’s hard to, with his heart thrumming beneath your palm.

“If you want me to, I’d-”

It drops off - but he’s certain he knows what you were going to say.

That you’d be there.

Go with him, be by his side - if that’s what he wanted.

He doesn’t know how to take it, your offer. Voice pitching low and gruff, as he twists his chest towards you.

The words coming slowly, and he finds he means them.

“Just knowing you’re waiting at home for me is enough.”

Home.

That’s what this place has become, hasn’t it? Wade’s apartment. Yours. This room, with his things tucked among them.

“I will.” You breathe, “Always.”

It’s a promise.

It’s one he thinks he might just believe.

His eyes flick down - and the dance begins once more, as leans into you. Done with words, for now.

The cracks deepen, as his hand slips up your bare shoulder. Cradling the back of your back, as your mouth meets his half-way.

Being the one to keep you close, this time.

Losing himself in you, once more.

Logan wonders sometimes what would have happened if Wade had pulled him into another world.

Would it have been enough, if they had been alive there?

But he might not have met you, there. Things might have not gone the same way, in the journey before. Another path taken, one where he had made it alone into the room with the Time Ripper.

Or worse, if he had been the only one to make it out.

Even those who worked outside of space and time had told him there was no going back.

He couldn’t fix what happened.

He could only move foward.

One step at a time.

Logan huffs, a breath of a laugh, as your own gradually slows. The second round and the late hour catching up to you, in the silence that’s gone soft, and the warmth of his embrace.

So many nights he thought about this. Certain he didn’t deserve it. Deserve you.

Always pulling away.

But tonight, your fingers lace through his. He’s tucked between your back and the wall of painted brick behind him, almost as if you’re protecting him.

Ears keen enough to pick up the faint clattering next door. A low murmur of voices, cadences he’s come to know well.

Maybe once, he can believe he’s safe.

Not everyone gets a second chance. He knows that now, and vows to grab onto it with both hands.

Sink his claws into it, if he has to.

And as his arm tucks around you like an anchor - he finally lets sleep take him.

if you've come back - thank you so much for reading. this series has meant so much to me, so it was very exciting when I was struck with inspiration for two more chapters of their story (exploring some ideas I hadn't yet been able to get to) 💖 I am planning to post another part next week, and this will be holiday-themed!

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[bigmammallama5]

hi 2 things 1: bone eater looks really really cool holy shit pls keep us posted and 2: is there like a story behind him or anything? i dont think ive actually seen him on your blog before

1. THANK YOU I'm so nervous. This is the second time I've built him and I haven't done much sculpture in a REALLY long time, certainly nothing this large in clay that wasn't a vessel. I've had to fix his left knee about three times even with a ridiculous amount of slip/score action, so hopefully I finally got him together (he's also got some support under his hips and wrists). He is. Very heavy lol. I think I may need to pick a connection point along his middle to cut him into two pieces, if only for drying and transportation purposes...

2. And kinda! He's actually been on my blog but in drawn form a couple times in my explorer supergirl/supercorp drawtober series from 2018 and then just this past year 2023! I totally understand how you missed him though because I'm just on here barfing memes 22 hours a day. To save you time trawling back through my blog (but if you're bored I won't stop you, just follow the "arting" tag") you can see those on my artstation:

Inktober 2018: Build a World in 31 Days "TERRAH"

Drawtober 2023: Return To TERRAH

I have a very loose idea, really more of a vibe, that Bone Eater is that culture and planetary system's deity of decay in a system of three, because everybody loves systems of threes and odd numbers! With him are the Spore Mother (birth, beginning), and World Ender (death, ending) (both names still not quite confirmed but I like them). He is the connection point between life and death, consuming so that more may become. Boom, crash, ominous sounds, goofy three-eyed grins and big chompers.

Here are my most recent super rough planning sketches of this current sculpture and hopeful next sculptures from a drawpile I noodled around in with @sango-blep (who is amazing and very supportive of my shenanigans while I gently coax my brain back to drawing after my health punched me in the face this past year):

He's maybe not quite as padded as I made him originally but I'll just have to keep practicing, maybe see if I need to look into actual armature or something if I want to keep doing this in the future? If I can get him back in mostly one piece I'd really like to make the other two as well in the same scale (this is a reminder to myself to take some wet measurements today) but I'd have to adjust the pose of World Ender for him to fit in our studio kilns. Ours are 24" deep and Bone Eater is clocking in at about 20" (oops), so I'd need to lower his head. I think I picked some compact enough poses, but we'll see. I may be the one loading him into the kiln lol.

BUT YEAH that's Bone Eater and what little I have on him right now LOL.

[p-pamda]

2023 I start, 2024 slowly, but steady, hopefully.🐌 (long)

Muy buenas, im not sure how these year's reviews are done but I wanted to give it a go. I'll try to make it brief at least.

This year's been pretty big for a lot of reasons. Mostly personal reasons, but ill start with art cause the personal ones are moppy and bland as a sponge and we're here for art huehue >:')!!!

I did talksprites for Maples Maid Service! Its a very cute cozy game i was very fortunate to lend a hand on. Peti and Bleak-Creep did and are still doing an amazing job with it. Always updating. Did you know that you can play it now on CoolMathGames? I thought that was cool

I did Manon's talksprites for Loveweb (i love loveweb and doing talksprites hehe) I loved the series since the beginning so i was pretty happy when knowing i was able to help @shadokwastaken a little, since this 2 part video was a lot of work!

Check all Loveweb!

I did my first long comic (dont check it! its messy to understand and im embarrased, im proud of finishing it tho!)

I learned a lot, and i hope i can still make comics.

Apart from these... I honestly haven't done something real GRAND or MIRACULOUS this year related to art.

i promised myself to draw for myself and draw what i want at the moment, or what makes me happy. So I've been drawing a lot of my characters or comics only for meee, or practicing anatomy-skulls, or gifts for people.

Im gonna keep it that way, thanks a lot for the people who hangs in there with me even if i do this. BUT IM SORRY!!! ill make something cool one day.

I'm focusing on working on comic stuff, i wanna do my own one day. And a year resolution i have its to finish this year the history things to start this year or the next one. I hope everyone is still here to walk with me that bumpy road haha

And the sponge stuff

I'm not going to get much into it, but this year I started being like, a normal person my age. I mean. I'm still not fully there. and still have a long road there. But I've done some stuff I was terrified all my life of because of -things-

I got my first job, and I had to interact with people. Now a 1 year one with coworkers even. And they laugh with me and treat me nicely, even if im just being awkward. Its pretty mindblowing and still can't believe it sometimes.

Its kinda embarrassing, but it gives me a little hope that i can be out there and it'll be ok. And that i can be me and people will tolerate it.

I've been trapped scared, so much that i haven't been living at all. I got to one of those, things when people invite you to go somewhere? just because? ive never done that! i hate going outside but it was so cool aaa we went to watch a movie!!! i still have the tickets!!!

Maybe its because i haven't done anything never, and im really, not the brightest. But ive learned a lot this year. Ive been feeling very hopeful and happy.

Hope you all have a smooth new year. Wishing the best

Lets keep walking, Slowly but steady 🐌

Thanks for reading and for everything 💚

[kskbli]

(x . x) ~~zzZ

25.04.2024 (1)

ive been at home since my last entry and i’m back on medication again afters 3 or 4 years

i visited my doctor last friday and ive been taking my meds since then . . .

i know it takes time when youre on antidepressants till they start working but since i started taking them ive been getting worse, it’s like my eyes are slowly opening and im starting to see how depressed i actually am

theres not a single day where i was able to wake up early the past days and it makes me so frustrated, because i want to wake up early! i want to go on walks in the morning! i want to see the sunrise! but my body doesn’t want to

i slept for 12h today and fell asleep again for 2h at 5pm i just don’t get it

doing the dishes or even the smallest thing like putting a plate back where it belongs seems like living hell for me

my apartment is so messy no matter how much i try to tidy it and when it’s tidy it feels empty and cold but at the same time i don’t have the strength to decorate it

i wish there was someone who could clean my apartment, do my laundry and make me food for once just so i don’t have to do something for a single day, does that make sense?

i especially feel bad for my cat . . . i haven’t played with her in so long, she loves going outside and i actually even bought her a harness so she could safely go outside with me but the weather has been super cold lately and when it’s sunny outside i don’t have the motivation to stand up

doing nothing all day, clenching my jaw, if my girlfriend wasn’t with me the last couple of days i would have forgotten to eat

i hope i get better till monday . . . my final exam in german is on the 2nd of may and as of right now picking up a piece of paper seems like too much work, i don’t even want to think about studying

i was thinking about what i should do and tried drawing or playing games but both just annoyed me, watching tv is annoying, cleaning is too much work and i’m not tired so i can’t go to sleep

22:38

[freebooter4ever]

I absolutely adore your art— your art style is this remarkable thing between geometric and watercolor, angular and soft, and the things you can do with color and light are just absurd. It’s like you took the way that light looks when filtered through stained glass and applied it to subjects with an impressive balance of proportionality and stylization.

I started following you for your Check Please stuff but now I smile every time any one of your pieces appears on my dash! (Doesn’t hurt that I’m a long-time Pens fan, haha.)

I just wanted to reach out and express how much I love all of your work, and how beautiful I think it is!

That’s all, have a lovely evening (or morning/afternoon/night/whatever time it is when you read this)!

this is such a lovely note, thank you!!! ironically i spent half of today cleaning and the other half trying desperately to finish kenny's birthday sketch.... which i failed :( but considering i still cant eat properly and am extremely lethargic, im hoping yall will excuse me <3

the way you describe my doodles makes it sound like any of it is intentional, and i wish it was, lol! the stylization is basically me wanting to draw fast but having the patience of an adhd freak who doesnt want to spend longer than a few hours on a sketch but also wants to get likeness. the angular ness is cause i see things in triangles. always have... which is why i think the stupid 'circle' method of drawing we are forced into as kids never worked on me, i hated it and was so bad at it. i finally gave up on it when i started doing my daily sketches. funnily enough i have heard my doodling described as watercolor-like before. its all done on the computer, and probably similar to my preference for triangles - i have always hated the soft diffuse look of the 90s i grew up with. i liked sharp edges and so hated coloring because i felt pressured to diffuse the shadows. then one day i said fuck it and started layering many many layers on top of each other to create my lights/shadows in a similar manner to how i render 3D sculpts. ive been experimenting with that ever since - you can see some of my early rough attempts in my wip tag: freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/wip or my joey tag: freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/golfing%20white%20boy who was the actor i was drawing when my arm pain of 2021 prevented me from doing fast sketches and forced me to slow down and color instead.

also yay go geno & his flightless birds!! (its a good thing you're a pens fan cause geno seems to be sticking around the longest out of anyone when it comes to my drawings :P)

[ferel6]

(Tldr: new research study, got my first 12 lead ekg 🥰)

Have a new research study that I'm going to participate in, but needed to go to an initial screening to make sure I qualified for the research (you know you need to start working out/eating better when they call you in for research because your BMI is over 30 😑)

Regardless, I am still VERY excited to be a part of it. They are testing Angiotensin, which is naturally created in our bodies, but they want to see if it will help with lowering blood pressure and spark metabolism in obese patients (that's me 😓)

The screening was a blast. Had to fast for 12 hours prior, got up in the morning and brought my wife and son with me to drop them off at the zoo for the day while I completed my screening. Long car ride, lots of time to get hype. Watching them eat breakfast only got me more excited (I wasn't really that hungry and the fact that I couldn't eat was just a reminder of the coming events).

I dropped the fam off at the zoo and made my way over to the familiar parking garage and began my walk over to the vascular center, past the main hospital entrance with patients and staff milling about, past the cancer center (feeling lucky that I was here for a different reason than those poor souls), and finally past the emergency room entrance, watching an EMS crew loading up an ambulance. I've always enjoyed this walk, getting the sounds and smells of the hospital, seeing all the staff everywhere in their scrubs. Anticipation mounts.

I got up to the Clinical Research floor and the study coordinator was already waiting for me. She greeted me like I was an old friend (I've done maybe 7 study sessions with them now, so I know the two main coordinators well, and I'm starting to recognize some of the techs) and we walked past our usual room, through a set of doors, and into a less lit hallway and back rooms I'd never been in. She explained there was another patient here for the study so we had to do the screening elsewhere.

As a note, I am VERY professional when it comes to these studies. While I do them primarily because of my fetish, in the moment I internalize all of that and quash it down hard to remain neutral and keep my vitals from going haywire and throwing off the research. But going through darkened hallways into secluded, partially lit rooms full of carts and tables and wires and tubes and trays and machines, just the coordinator and me, got my mind fantasizing something fierce 😬😈

Luckily, as with all studies, we needed to sit and talk through EVERYTHING they were going to do to me during our session, today and the next if my bloodwork came back acceptable. So I had plenty of time to temper myself while she explained.

The screening would include a DXA scan, full body composition. I'd also receive a full check up from a physician at the hospital and my first 12 lead EKG (!), which the physician would need to check over to make sure it looked good. Then a quick blood draw would round out the screening.

She explained the next visit would include two IVs, one in each arm, one for the infusion of saline or the drug they were testing (blinded) and the other for blood draws during the procedure. I'd have a 3 lead ekg to monitor heartrate, a BP cuff on my arm and a finometer on my finger and strapped around my wrist, a blood oxygen monitor clipped to my ear, blood flow sensors taped to my stomach, arm and leg, and a tent-like canopy over my head to capture my breathing. Unlike some of my other studies with them, she told me I could practically sleep through this one, as it is a LOT of sitting around during infusion and just listening to my breathing, so she said most of her patients literally take a nap 😅.

While all this talk would normally not allow me to relax my anticipation, I tried my best to return dialog, asking questions and getting the coordinator to open up about why they were testing certain things, what the blood draws were for, talking to her about the research I'd already done on the drug and it's effects, and hearing her thoughts on how the study was going. The longer we talked the more I could feel my heart slowing to a much more manageable rhythm 🤭

We finally got to it, hopping up and taking my shoes and socks off for height and weight, then straight over to the table for my first full fledged EKG!! As you can see on my channel here, I have a 5 lead patient monitor, and I've been to other studies where they used a 3 lead, but I've never had the pleasure of a full 12 lead reading before.

The coordinator dragged the machine over, more a printer with a keyboard than the brilliant colorful screen with the green line we all know and love. She already had the square medline electrodes attached to the leads so she set about hooking me up, a constant flow of conversation making me feel at ease and keeping me calm during something that in retrospect turned me on SO MUCH. I felt the cold sticky adhesive on my skin as she talked about how they would unfortunately pull on my hair coming off, if this had been a stress test she'd have to shave my chest because of all the sweat and movement, but it wasn't a big deal for a short resting EKG, how some of her older male patients would complain about the shave because they were going on cruises in a weeks time. Just a constant barrage of stories of her wiring up others just like me.

Once the leads were attached, she wrapped a BP cuff around my right arm and turned on a different monitor behind me, noting the beeping sound on it as the machine complaining that there was no temperature sensor hooked up, "But it broke a while ago, so we had to take it out and now it just yells at us all the time that there's none in there. But it's OK we won't have it on long, just going to take your blood pressure twice and I'll turn it back off again while your EKG is running. 138/85 a little high, it should come down, I'll run it again. Oop, EKGs printing, let's take a look. Oh looks great, but we'll still need to call the physician up to check it over, I'll text him now while I run the other blood pressure check. Ok, messaged, 133/86 better, better."

See what I mean? Constant stream of conversation. She's awesome. I would chime in from time to time, noting things like "oh that BP is a bit high for me" or whatnot, but mostly I just listened and enjoyed.

With my EKG readings printed off, she came back over, unstrapped the cuff from around my arm, unclipped the leads from the electrodes and wheeled the machine back to the corner. I thought maybe I could leave the stickies on my chest this time and have a bit of fun at home later and began to pull my shirt back down, but the coordinator reminded me of my imminent DXA scan and came back over to rip the patches from my chest.

We waited for a while longer, talking again of other patients, the study, what each of the tubes of blood would be used for during the procedure, until the physician finally arrived. He was young and tall, wearing those oh so lovely pale green scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck.

We fistbumped for cleanliness as he introduced himself, talked with the coordinator about what she needed from him, then looked at my EKG printout. He confirmed everything looked fantastic, noted my BP at the top and signed it. Then he turned to me and told me to hop back up on the exam table again so he could check me over.

He got out his stethoscope and began his inspection, asking me questions about my health or telling me to take a big breath and hold it.

Another note here: I am straight, but where my medical fetish is concerned professionals, even males, can REALLY get my heart racing, so I had to slam my breaks hard to not give anything away here. Id already had my BP taken and an EKG run and now a young, fit doctor listening closely to my heart. Man that was a tough one.

Done with his stethoscope, he threw it around his neck again, brisk hands checking the pulse in my neck, both my wrists, my ankles, my feet. All while asking if I took any medications or if I had had any health concerns lately.

We finished up and he was baffled by my perfectly healthy condition 😇. He told us he NEVER gets to examine healthy patients in his line of work and it was very refreshing. I apologized for not having something wrong with me, eliciting a chuckle from all of us in the room.

He signed off my paperwork again and we walked him out of the clinic on our way to the DXA scan. We talked the whole way, him asking if this was my first study (the coordinator cutting in "No he's one of our regulars!" 🥰) asking if I was close to the facility (told him I'm about two hours away, "Wow! That's far! Well thank you so much for the help with these studies!")

We parted ways and the coordinator led me to a tiny room with a bed and a scanner over top of it. I changed into shorts and laid on the bed while she got the program under way. 7 minutes of lying stock still while the bed moved me around, taking the whole composition of my body (it's a very light x-ray). She printed an extra copy of my body comp (if you ever need motivation to get fit...go get a DXA. It is the most unflattering picture ever).

Then we went back to our room and she had me hop up on the bed again for the final thing: a blood draw. She told me it'd be quick and mostly painless, as she only needed two vials and was just using a butterfly needle.

A pro as always, strapped a tourniquet around my arm, cold alcohol wipe, a quick flash and her stream of conversation started back up as she pushed on my bicep to get the blood flowing through the tubes.

She wrapped my arm up and sent me on my way with my packets of paperwork.

The whole day was over in like an hour and a half, but was just so....chill. So relaxed. I'll update again on how my study goes once I go through that date, but I was just so excited to be examined, poked, prodded, carefully scrutinized again. And for my first ever full EKG.

These will always be long winded posts cause I need to get my feelings out, decompress. Feel free to message me to talk about similar experiences or if you have questions. Ya know...if you read this far 😅. I love talking to people about these feelings!

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Death is All Around | part IV

This shouldn’t be happening. I should not be standing outside dressed in black, placing a single flower on top of this casket in front of me, saying goodbye to one of my best friends.

I will forever have the sight of Randy bloodied with his head slumped over, shoulder pinned to the tree behind him, that damned Ghostface mask stuck to his chest.

I pulled my jacket tight against me, shivering, even though it wasn’t particularly cold out. I just felt hollow, numb—ghostly, even. Sucking my lip into my mouth to hold my sobs in, I turned around to face Billy and my friends, one lone tear trailing down my face. This wasn’t fair. This shouldn’t be happening; it shouldn’t have been Randy. It shouldn’t be anyone, not Casey or Steve, not my mom, no one.

I walk back over to the trio, the sadness in their eyes making me want to break down more so than I already wanted to. Sniffling, I ran my hand across my cheek, wiping away the tear that found its way down my face before any of them acknowledge it. I know they saw it, but I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Billy extends his arm, welcoming me into his embrace, where I nuzzle my head against his chest and wrap my arms around him. No one speaks, we just stand there exchanging pained glances between one another. Oddly enough, it was comforting, the silence and understanding of the situation before us.

Billy places a gentle kiss to the top of my head, rubbing my upper arm as he does so. I peer up at him, locking eyes with him. They were exceptionally dark today; there was no shimmer, no welcoming warmth in them. Just sadness. Worry. Sunken in and red around the edges from the few tears he let out earlier today. Swallowing, I break the silence with a croak, “I’m fine.” Tatum nods, but I know she doesn’t believe me as she purses her lips together. She closes the gap between us and pulls me from Billy, engulfing me in a hug. She squeezes me for an uncomfortably long time, nearly pushing the air out of me. I swear I could feel her tremble, trying to hold back her cries. She’ll never admit it, but she did value him as a good friend of hers, and I know she regrets all those times she wasn’t particularly nice to him. “I’m so sorry, Sid,” her voice was strong, but quivers. Hearing that causes my vision to blur as fresh tears make their way to the surface. I place my hands on her shoulders, steadying her in front of me. “You can cry, it’s okay,” I sniff, coughing out a small chuckle. “I know,” she whispers, wrenching her eyes shut as she finally lets those tears free that she was holding back. This time I pull her into a hug, resting my head on her shoulder.

I glance up, blinking through my tears as something dark catches my eye in the distance against the pines. I squint, trying to make sense of what it is that I saw—or think I saw, anyway—but there was nothing but low hanging branches swaying in the wind. I shake my head, releasing Tatum from my hold. She wipes the tears from her eyes with the tips of her fingers, sniffling softly as she runs the sleeve of her shirt under her nose. Her cheeks and nose were both reddened, eyes glossed over and starting to become bloodshot. “What’s wrong?” she questions after studying me for a moment. I clear my throat, “Oh, uh, nothing. I just thought I saw something…” I peer over her shoulder again, confirming that there was nothing but trees behind her. “Must’ve just been an animal running by, is all.” She gently pushes her knuckles against my shoulder, playfully pushing before muttering a quick ‘kay’.

“So, whaddya two ladies think about bailing this fiesta and grabbing some grub and having a few drinks back at my place?” Stu slings his arms around our shoulders, bobbing his head back and forth between us as he waits for a response. “Stu! Now is not the time or place—” “A-actually, Tate, I think that’s a great idea,” I cut Tatum off mid-scold. “This has been a hard day for all of us. Maybe a little downtime is what we need.”

I steal a glance at Billy; a comforting smirk stares back at me as he saunters over to us. He replaces Stu’s arm around my shoulders with his, resting his hand on my upper arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He cocks his head to the side, "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

-

I stare absentmindedly at the movie that was playing on the living room TV, lazily spinning the beer bottle I was holding between my fingers. We decided on John Carpenter's Halloween in honor of Randy, knowing that was one of his favorites; he adored Jamie Lee "Scream Queen" Curtis.

I was in such a fog, not even retaining anything that I had watched. My head throbbed lightly at the temples, my eyes puffy from crying and nose raw from blowing it nearly all day. I keep telling myself that this is all a dream, and I'll wake up soon and have to deal with Randy's enthusiasm towards all the newly released movies he planned to watch in theatre, and possibly convince us to join.

I chuckle lightly to myself at the thought.

"Earth to Sid!" I look up when I hear my name called through the haze just as a dusting of popcorn plops me in the face. I jerk back slightly, shaking my head. "You alright over there?" Stu asks, leaning over to retrieve the popcorn that was now sitting in my lap, popping it into his mouth. "Yeah, sorry," I mumble, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a swig. "Hey dickhead, why don't you leave her alone?" Billy barks at Stu, shooting him a stern look. Stu puts his hands up in defense, "Sheesh, sorry, man. She just looked like a space cadet for a minute there, wanted to make sure she was coming back to us at some point."

Sighing, I tip the bottle back and finish off the beer before standing, "I'm fine. Please, for fuck's sake, stop asking me." I turn on my heel, making my exit towards the kitchen to grab another drink from the fridge. I hear a low mumble, followed by a distinguished 'ow' from Stu. I pluck a bottle from the bottom shelf and close the fridge, turning around and leaning against it. Letting out a sigh, I bang my head back against the door just as I hear someone enter the room. I briefly glance over, meeting Billy's stare.

"Don't," I bite, twisting the top off the beer and aggressively tossing it into the trash by the kitchen island. He doesn't say a word, just walks towards me and puts a hand on my side and looks directly into my eyes. He studies me, trailing his gaze up and down my tense face, trying to get a read on me.

I breathe in deeply through my nose, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry," I mumble as I let go of the breath I was holding. "It's okay," he whispers, moving his hand up and down my back soothingly. "You have nothing to be sorry for." "I'm just frazzled, you know?" I speak into his chest. "All the stress from this is getting to my head. Earlier today at the funeral, I could have sworn I saw him." "Saw who?" I gulped, choking on my answer. "Ghostface." Billy remains quiet for a moment, still running a hand slowly up and down my spine. I could feel my heart begin to race with anxiety, drumming against my chest, waiting for his answer. Does he think I'm crazy? Did he see him too? Does he know something that I don't?

"Would you like me to take you home so you can relax?" He asks after his momentary silence. I start to calm now that he finally answered as I shake my head, still pressed against his chest. "No, I just opened this," I respond, lifting the beer aimlessly. He chuckles, "Okay. Ready to go back in there with those goons?" This time I let out a small giggle, lifting my head and gently placing a kiss on his jaw. He gazes down at me, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a tiny smile. I break away from his grasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with me back towards the living room. "I'll take that as a yes."

-

The room was spinning, and I was laughing.

Okay, so the room wasn't actually spinning, but with the alcohol influencing my vision, it sure seemed like it was. I felt warm, vibrant, exhilarated, and most importantly, distracted. There wasn't a care in the world to me besides feeding myself more booze to keep these feelings flowing. I felt free from the looming darkness that's been consuming me since Randy's passing.

I was currently wrapped up in a blanket with my head slumped against Tatum's shoulder, the bowl of popcorn now in our possession. She was lazily tossing kernels into her mouth, trying hard to ignore her boyfriend who was trying his damnedest to annoy her. By the sounds of it, it seemed to have been working, hearing her huff as she throws her head against the backrest. "Stu!" She finally snaps, "knock it off, or so help me God." "Aww, what's wrong Tatum?" He teases her, promptly poking her in the side. She jerks at the touch, whipping her head to glare at him. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at the situation that was unfolding beside me.

In one swift movement, Tatum stands with the popcorn bowl in her hands, leaving me to fall against the couch cushion. I grunt softly, but right myself to witness what was about to happen. I scoff, astonished once I see her lift the bowl over Stu's head, popcorn pouring over him. She finishes her attack by slamming the bowl onto his head, pushing it down past his eyes so he couldn't see. She let's out a 'hmph' as she folds her arms over her chest, leaving him to sit there with his new hat and mess around him.

I couldn't contain my composure; I was full on belly-laughing.

I turn my attention towards Billy, who was sitting in the lounger across from me, to see if he was witnessing the drama before us. He was leaning forward, elbows on his legs propping him up, dangling his beer between his legs, chuckling lightly. I watch him as he brings the bottle up to his lips, taking a quick sip before returning to his original position. I watch him swipe his tongue over his lips, savoring the taste of his brew. I mimic his actions, licking my own lips while imagining the taste of him infiltrating my palate.

He adverts his attention towards me as if he could sense that I was staring at him. He locks those dark eyes with mine, smoldering. That look electrifies me, shooting this sudden warmth through my body that pools at the pit of my stomach. I squirm uncomfortably in my seat to try to ease the heat that was simmering in me, swallowing harshly as I feel my mouth start to go dry. I watch his eyes slowly trail from my eyes, down to my hands I had been wringing anxiously while Billy practically eye fucked me. His mouth pulls to the side in a devious smirk while he meets me eyes again—he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Why tonight of all nights his actions—which certainly were supposed to be innocent—were causing my body to react this way, I wasn’t sure. But my God, the things I’m imaging him doing to me was not me by nature… I guess I’ll blame it on the alcohol.

“Why don’t we get you home, Sid? You look like you’re ready to leave,” Billy’s voice was low as he stood and placed his half-drank beer on the coffee table. I felt another rush of warmth, this time running up my neck as my heartrate began to pick up from anticipation of what those eyes were portraying. “Oh, um…” I trail off, taking a quick glance around the room; Tatum still hadn’t returned, and Stu was clearly irritated that he was now picking up the mess that he egged on from her. “Yeah, it’s getting pretty late.”

When I stood, the room began to spin again as my brain finally registered just how much alcohol I consumed tonight. I bumped my knee into the coffee table, causing Billy’s beer to topple over and spill. I gasp, quickly reaching for it, only to push it further and inevitably causing more of a mess. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Stu,” I mumble with embarrassment, turning to head towards the kitchen for something to clean up the spill, and immediately bump into Billy’s chest. He rights me, planting a hand firmly on the small of my back. He leers down at me, that same damned smirk playing on his lips. I gasp, feeling myself flush.

Fuck. What is wrong with me tonight?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Not like this is the first beer we’ve spilled here, right?” I hear bottles clacking together behind me as Stu starts to clean the room up. “You both look pretty sloshed, why don’t you go on up and take my parent’s room tonight?” Billy continues to smirk at me as he winks. “You sure?" "Yeah, man," Stu chuckles, "go for it. You never know with Officer Dewey-Boy. Don't want him bustin' ya, and I don't think Tatum can bail you out on that one." "Appreciate it." Billy cocks his head, motioning for me to follow him up the stairs. I trail after him, reaching for his hand in guidance.

Once inside the bedroom and the door was shut, he begins to loosen the tie that he was still wearing since leaving the funeral, watching me sway softly. Was I dizzy from being intoxicated by the alcohol or was it by the effects of him?

He smirks, slowly closing the gap between us. He places a warm hand on my cheek, running his thumb across my lips while his other hand lands on my hip. I take in a quick breath from the contact. I drink in the way his hands feel on me, how close he was to me, feeling his hot breath caress my lips while his dark orbs penetrate me. My stomach flutters, heat rolling down and pooling into my panties. "What's the matter?" His voice is gravely, seductive. "You're awfully unsteady."

You.

I swallowed as my mind raced for an answer. When I don't come up with anything, he hums with amusement before crushing his lips to mine. Almost instinctively, our tongues find one other, meshing together, savoring each other. I grip onto the front of his shirt, clinging to him, feeling weak at the knees, wanting him closer to me. His hand moves from my face to the back of my head, clawing into my scalp and pulling my hair and aggressively steering me backwards until the back of my legs hit the mattress. I buckle, falling back and pulling him with me. He breaks away from the kiss, now pulling my hair to move my head to the side for clear access to my neck. He places soft kisses on my flushed skin, earning quiet mewls from me. I could feel his smile against my neck, followed by a quick breath as he chuckles. "So," he says lowly, "you gonna tell me what's wrong now? Or do I have to force it out of you?" "H-how do you plan on forcing it out of me?"

He runs a hand down my leg, hiking it up around his hip and ground his pelvis into mine. Feeling the bulge that was growing underneath his dress slacks pressed against my center earns him a louder moan from me this time. "Like this," he jerks his hips into me, his erection pressing just hard enough to feel it against my clit. I bite my lip, muffling the moan that was coming out of me. He grazes his teeth against my neck, nibbling lightly before sucking on the tender skin. I involuntarily dig my nails into his back, scratching down and around his hips, my hands meeting at his belt. He hums, still pressed against my neck as I fumble with the buckle that was holding back what I was desperate for. I manage to unfasten it, only to have him grip my hand and stop me. "Hold that thought." He places a quick kiss against my lips and crawls off of me.

Breathing heavy, I sit up on my hands and watch him with confusion as he sits down on the chair nearby. "Billy," I huff out, heart pounding and aggravation starting to build in me. "What are you doing?" He bends down and begins to untie his dress shoes. By this point, I was fuming--did he really rile me up and pause to take his goddamn shoes off? "I know what you're thinking," he begins without even looking up at me, "my entire outfit is my dad's--he'd kill me if I ruined them." "Really?" I wasn't normally this irritable about this type of thing, but God, I really fucking wanted him right now. Needed him, even. Impatience growing, I stand up and kick my own shoes off to the side of the room and turn towards him. I let out a shaky breath, knowing what I was about to do was way out of my normal character.

I step up a few feet away from him, waiting for him to finish with whatever he was doing. Hearing my presence, he looks up as he places his now untied dress shoes off to the side. I watch as his expression turned quizzical, surely wondering what I was up to. He cocks his head slightly, studying me with curiosity. I keep my composure calm as I slide one strap of my black dress down my shoulder. Understanding flashes across his face, amusement taking place as I continued to remove the other strap from my shoulder. The dress pools around my feet, leaving me in a strapless bra and panties. I smirk, stepping out of the ring of fabric and close the gap between us.

As I fist his tie, he straightens out, running his hands up his thighs. I pull upwards on the tie, causing him to lift his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the air he took in. He brandishes a toothy grin, clearly liking where this was going. “I’m not waiting,” I tell him lowly. I jerk the tie one more time before swinging a leg over his lap and taking a seat. My heart was pounding against my chest; this was taking all the courage to execute this, alcohol surely helping along with this. I roll my wrist, wrapping his tie around my hand and pull to lessen the distance between us even more, to which he grunts in response. I capture his lips with mine, grinding my pelvis into him while he moans into my mouth. I take the opportunity to tackle his tongue with mine, once again savoring his taste. His hands find my sides, fingers digging deep into me as he manipulates my hips into a swivel on top of his erection.

“Fuck, Sid,” he moans against my mouth. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like this side of you.” I giggle in reply, continuously rubbing up against him still. He brings a hand to the back of my head, grabbing a fist full of my hair and yanking my head back again. He nips my jaw, licking a trail over to my ear and latches his teeth onto my lobe, growling. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he whispers. His breath tickles me, bringing goosebumps to the surface of my skin—his words strike me, coursing through my center and causing more wetness to pool in my underwear. “Then do it,” I demand as I stand up abruptly, removing my thong and flinging it at him. Surprise flashes across his features momentarily while he instinctively catches my panties before they collided with his face. Smirking with hunger in his eye, he curls a finger, beckoning me to come back. He stands to drop his pants as I obey and return to him—I put a hand on his chest and guide him back onto the chair. I go back to my original position over his lap, hovering over his cock since he was blocking me from sitting on it. He takes hold of himself, running the tip through my folds to coat himself with my slick. He teases me as he does so, tapping his head against my clit and causing me to buck my hips towards him. He takes advantage of that, replacing his cock with the pad of his thumb and rubbing against me. My head rolls back, hands planted on his shoulders to stay on his lap. I groan, which only causes him to continue his handywork by slipping two fingers inside of me while still massaging my swollen bud. He continuously curls his fingers in such a way that it forces a deep moan out of me. I could feel the pressure begin to build inside me, bubbling up and ready to explode while I rode myself out on his hand. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers as my climax was about to hit, only to have him abruptly stop and pull his hand away from me.

I whimper, returning my gaze to him as I pant embarrassingly fast. “Billy…” “Oh, is something wrong?” he teases, placing his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean of my wetness. “I was about to come,” I whine. He chuckles, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. “Congratulations, you now know what edging is." Appalled, I huff, “You’re unbelievable.” “I’m aware,” he winks at me, leaning in to bite my bottom lip. I whine, partly in pleasure of his bite, but mostly in irritation from being denied my orgasm. So, I take it upon myself to pick up where we left off by taking a hold of his cock, giving it a few strokes, which pulls a soft moan from him.

I watch his eyes flutter shut as I lower myself slowly onto his length, adjusting to his girth inside me. I let out a sigh of relief, finally getting what I wanted and loving the way that he felt. I start to rock my hips slowly, relishing in the way his cock stretched me out and stroked against that sweet spot. “Oh, fuck,” Billy moans, opening his eyes to catch my gaze. “So good.” I start to let out a small chuckle, only to be taken over by a gasp as he suddenly tightens his hold on me and stands. Crushing his mouth to mine with one arm around my back and the other hand fisting my hair, he hurriedly carries me to the bed. Tossing me down, he slips the tie over his head and throws it, returning his hands to the top of his button-up. In one swift movement he tears the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room, promptly whipping it to the floor. Before I’m able to admire his bare chest, he sprawls back on top of me, pawing the cup down from my left breast to expose my now-pert nipple and takes it into his mouth. I gasp, arching my back, pushing my chest closer towards him. “What’s your dad gonna do when he sees you’ve ruined his shirt?" “Who gives a fuck?” He mumbles against me and grazes his teeth against my nipple before tracing it with his tongue.

Fair enough.

While he continues to suck on my breast, he pushes my legs apart to gain access to my sex. Without so much as fumbling, he runs a finger through my middle, landing on my clit. He aggressively rubs the swollen bundle of nerves, making me moan out and buck against his hand involuntarily. I feel his chuckle vibrate through my chest, finding amusement out of what he was making my body do. He takes my nipple between his teeth, devious eyes peering up at me. “You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbles around my breast. I feel my face flush as I bashfully smile down at him, unsure if that was a good thing or bad thing. Judging by the smile that formed on his lips when he released my nipple and slowly brought his face close to mine, I’d say it was a good thing. He plants a quick kiss to my lips before replacing them with his fingers, leaving a trail of my slick in their path. I instinctively lick my lips, taking in the taste of myself—oddly enough, I found it to be quite pleasant. “Good girl,” he growls, slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean for a second time.

Settling in between my legs, he slowly pushes himself inside me, earning another mewl from me. My legs find their way around his hips, crossing at the ankles and locking him in place, urging him to keep moving. He pulls out slowly, reentering me forcefully. I whimper at the sudden deepness—he smirks down at me and repeats his move; I find myself letting out another squeak. I quickly pull his head towards me, bringing his lips to mine in a heated kiss to stop myself from making these noises. A low groan sounds from his throat as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, exploring and massaging my tongue while his hips start to find a rhythm. I find myself running my hands down his back, feeling his muscles flex beneath my fingertips with each movement he made. I dig my nails into his skin while he keeps thrusting into me, earning a hiss from him.

He retreats, sitting up on his knees, palming my thigh and pushes me onto my side. I roll onto my belly as he grabs my hips and aggressively pulls them back, bringing my ass up against him. Without a warning, he thrusts back inside of me, causing me to cry out while fisting the blankets. He continues to pound into me from behind, striking me in an angle I haven’t experienced before. “Fuck, Billy,” I groan out, relishing in the way his cock continuously struck my g-spot. I move my arm underneath me, running my fingertips across my clit, feeling how wet I was, just like he told me before. I run my middle and ring fingers against myself, edging on the climax I could feel build up. It doesn’t take long before I feel the heat spool up and let go, my walls clenching against his length as my orgasm finally hits. As I let out a string of moans, he relentlessly fucks me, never slowing down as my legs tremble and struggle to keep me from completely collapsing against the mattress. “Billy, oh God—” I whimper out, moving my hands onto his thighs in attempt to push him away as I was becoming overstimulated. “Please, stop, I-I can’t—” Suddenly I’m being pulled back by my hair, flush against his chest. “You can, and you will,” he growls almost animalistically. I had no choice but to take it, his strong arms holding me against him while I writhed against him, my legs still struggling to keep me upright. By the time his thrusts started to slow down, tears were pooling in my eyes and slowly trickling down my cheeks.

His strokes became sloppy, his breath load and coarse behind me, while he pulls my head back and to the side. He plants his mouth on mine, panting through his nose as I feel his load shoot in me. He keeps himself buried in me while he kisses me, coming down from his high.

After a moment or two, he releases my limp body, both of us crashing down on the bed in a sweaty mess. He lays on his side, pulling me to him and wrapping his arm around my back while we both tried to catch our breaths. He leaves a firm kiss on my forehead before lowering his gaze to my face, the tiniest lift in the corners of his mouth in a smile. Noticing the dry trail of tears on my face, he takes the arm that was around me and swipes my cheek with the pad of his thumb tenderly. I nuzzle into his touch, humming peacefully, a small smile forming on my own lips. “Sorry,” he breaks the silence, “I couldn’t contain myself. Are you alright?” His voice was so soft, comforting. “Yeah,” I sigh, craning my neck to place a kiss against his jaw. “Good,” he hums this time, giving me another firm kiss on my forehead. “I love you, Sid.” “I love you too, Billy,” I throw an arm around his side, pulling myself closer to him. “Thank you for being here with me.”

|Chapter 5|

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER XII

Hi, how are you doing? Things are finally calming down. Maybe there'll be another chapter later this week!

In today's chapter we have another scene from the past. I hope you like it^^

And I have some news. I've made a cover for this story! Also made with artificial intelligence. I feel like I should get paid since I'm practically training them already! But it looks cute.

Previous chapters: CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX / CHAPTER X / CHAPTER XI

I hope you enjoy it!

''You're funny.'' Nico told him.

''You are.’’

And like third graders, which they both were, they laughed again as they heard the bell ring. Percy hadn't even realized that half an hour had passed, what was more time than he'd usually spent with his old friends these days. And what that said about him, hm?

''We have to go.'' He heard Nico say.

They really had. In a hurry, he helped Nico collect the lunch boxes and accompanied him to his next class, discovering that Nico was in fact in the same classes as him. Was Percy so distracted by trying to hide that he didn't see what was going on around him? Well, that would change from that moment on.

***

A few more days passed and with them, Percy began to pay attention to his surroundings. 

It was strange. How had Percy not noticed Nico's presence until that moment? Everytime Percy looked around, Nico would be there, at any place or time of day, too. That is, until they both went off to their respective homes, rehearsals or trainings, and even then, Percy would still be thinking about Nico; while waiting for his older brother to pick him up or at home helping his mother cook, trying new dishes.

That's what continued to happen for a long time, days, weeks, months, even, was hard to get a sense of time when the hours passed so quickly and the days were all the same. Percy felt like he was emerging from a paralyzing sleep, finding something that finally held his attention. One day he noticed that Nico sat at the front of the room and was very close to the exit door. On another, Nico was more towards the middle of the room and then the little boy appeared next to him, sharing the double desk with him. Grover was in the desk next to his with Juniper, Luke behind him with Thalia.

Percy looked at Nico once again and saw him writing something around a drawing, a black helmet, the handwriting as beautiful as the features of the figure. Percy wanted to ask since when they had sat together. Since when had Nico been part of his group of friends and since when had he felt so comfortable with Nico's presence, with the quietness that Nico's actions brought. Instead, he said in the lowest voice possible:

''What's that?”

''Hm?' 'Nico muttered and looked at him, as calm as ever. ''A design for a novel. I don't know if I'll finish it.”

The strangest thing was that he knew exactly what Nico was talking about. Percy had seen the draft of the novel in one of the breaks shared with food, and like everything Nico did, it was beautiful and delicate, as if Nico put a part of his soul into everything he touched with his hands, whether it was a piece of paper, art, food or homework.

''You should. It's beautiful.”

Nico didn't say anything, he just lowered his head and continued scribbling, his face hidden behind long, black hair that shone as it reflected the sunlight. Nico then doodled a sword and an armor, leather gloves, a crown of roses. The more Percy watched Nico draw, the less Percy understood what was holding his attention so much. Maybe it was the slim hands, the long, elegant fingers, maybe it was Nico's concentrated attitude, or maybe was the relaxed body next to his, his head next to Nico's, admiring the soft lines that revealed so much beauty.

'''Alright, guys. Get your books.'' The teacher said and out of nowhere, part of the magic was broken.

The drawings were still in Nico's notebook, just as beautiful as before, and they were still stuck together, leaning over the shared desk. The difference was that Nico had tensed and looked up at Percy, as if Nico hadn't paid attention to what was happening around him until he heard the teacher's voice. Percy also realized something, maybe he was very close to Nico, hugging him by the shoulders like a prison with no escape.

''Sorry.'' Even with all this in mind, Percy made no move to pull away or let him go.

Percy thought Nico was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was nothing like seeing the blush spreading across Nico's face, the darker skin taking on a warmer hue, to look at and to touch too, because even over his clothes, Percy could feel the heat emanating from Nico at the points where they touched; at his shoulders and hips, almost making Percy touch that delicate, beautiful face.

''...mind.”

''Sorry?”

''I don't mind.' 'Nico repeated in the same low, discreet tone, then turned to his notebook and picked up the books they would need.

Percy got the impression that Nico cared, yes, but in a... positive way. He saw the little boy open the book to the right page, lean against the back of the chair and up his arm, starting to read while the teacher explained the subject, like that scene was something completely normal. This made Percy wonder once again: had he ever done this with Nico? Since when were they so close? Wasn't it Annabeth who should have been by his side? Sure, they'd never been that close or acted the way he and Nico were acting, but... since when did she sit on the other side of the room with Clarisse and Silena? Shouldn't he have cared a little more than just being slightly surprised? She was his friend, wasn't she...? Shouldn't Percy miss her? So why had he only noticed Annabeth's absence now?

''Is everything all right?' 'He heard a soft voice beside him, and then, Nico's hand rested on his arm, Percy noticing in his friend's face a worried look.

Percy took a deep breath, letting his shoulders relax, and found himself smiling, something inside his chest warming and pulsing, as if the spark of an unknown feeling inside him was waking up.

''Everything is great. Wonderful. Incredible.”

''You dork.'' Nico rolled his eyes and leaned back against him, continuing to read the text the teacher had asked them.

Well, after that, Percy quickly understood what was going on; or rather, his psychiatrist had helped him understand. Nico wasn't stalking him, but in fact, Nico was doing the same thing he was; Nico was trying to live a discreet life away from prying eyes. Even he, at the age of eleven, admired the image that Nico made. The little boy stood out so much among the other studentes that Percy could clearly see the difference. Straight, wavy, thick hair, a small, fleshy mouth, intense black eyes, it was such a beautiful set that it gave Nico an androgynous, feminine look, although it was impossible to mistake Nico for a girl.

The point was, Nico had found the best places to hide, the same ones that Percy had found too. The music room, the forest, the bleachers near the sports fields further away from the classrooms.

Percy couldn't help himself, day after day, he found himself doing the same steps.

In addition to spending his time in class close to Nico, always during breaks, whether during the day or in the afternoon, he found himself walking and finding his way to the familiar bleachers with the familiar mop of hair in the far corner trying to hide. They never agreed out loud, it was just something that had become routine.

Nico would leave first, Percy would exchange a few words with his remaining friends and then he would follow Nico; he would practice basketball for a few minutes on the courth floor and then he would sit down next to Nico, accepting a lunchbox filled with the things he loved most, cake and pie, blueberry juice too, and sometimes, Nico would surprise him, baked potatoes or pancakes; if Nico was in the mood, lasagna or something Italian. No matter what it was, Percy would happily eat every grain and every bit of food. If Nico made it for him, the least he could do was repay him by eating it all. But it seemed so little compared to what Nico did for him... Percy wanted to share something with Nico that was important and valuable too. But what could be more valuable than sharing the food you've made yourself with someone?

''Your drawings are very good. Where did you learn?’’

They were once again in the stands, Percy ignoring the ball still in his hands to watch Nico take a forkful of food into his mouth, stopping midway with the fork between his lips.

''Hm?’’

''Where did you learn to draw?’’

''Oh, that?'' Then Nico looked down at his lap, where the notebook was, and put his lunchbox down. ''I had a lot of free time.”

Percy didn't know if he had understood… but Nico smiled at him, seeming to understand his confusion.

''I don't have any friends. I never had. Imagination was all that I had.”

''And what am I? A tree?’’

''No, you're a popular and rich athlete.’’

''You're right. I have many riches, how about you share them with me?”

''What are you saying?'’ Nico smiled again and Percy felt a throbbing in his chest that had nothing to do with the asthma he had as a baby.

''My mother likes to cook.’’

''Isn't that obvious? I mean, she has a restaurant, doesn't she?'' Nico said and tilted his head to the side, like that would make him understand what Percy meant.

''She'd love the company.”

''Don't we... have a paper to finish?’’

''I have plenty of space at home. My mother won't mind.’’

''Are you sure? I've never been to anyone's house.’’

This only made Percy's chest tighten even more.

''There's always a first time, right?’’

Nico looked at him, seemed to analyze him from head to toe and ended up shrugging.

''I will trust you.’’

At the time, Percy didn't know why he was having so many palpitations or why the feeling of relief had seized him so intensely. Later, he would recognize it as the fear of being rejected, and even if he didn't understand it yet, he knew that someone as sweet, beautiful and talented as Nico would never reject him so rudely. Thiat way, they finished eating and went on to their next classes, arranging to meet at the main gate after the last class.

***

Percy admitted, he had wasted more time than intended talking to the literature teacher. Apparently, he needed to try harder if he wanted to have a future at that school. She argued with him, went over every little thing he'd done wrong, and even gave him extra assignments to make sure his mistakes were corrected. Percy left the classroom as quickly as he could, and as soon as he saw the time, Percy ran down the corridors towards the school's main gate. When he arrived at the place he and Nico had marked, he remembered why Nico was always hiding in corners, which made Percy remember why he was hiding too.

They had already experienced this scene. Nico was pressed against the wall outside the gate and two other boys surrounded him, one of them was holding Nico by the neck while the other looked around suspiciously. The difference this time was that a crowd was watching them and no one was doing anything to stop what was about to happen.

Percy approached them, pretending to be another spectator, and listened the murmurs, while one of the boys spoke:

'Who's going to protect you now, huh? Because of you, our friends were expelled. Why don't you put yourself in your place and--’’

''What place would that be?’’

Percy couldn't help himself. This time, he didn't want any explanations. 

He stepped out of the crowd and the next thing he knew, he was face to face with the boys, or rather, his fist was against their faces. The pain came immediately, as he felt his nuckes collide with the nose of one the boys who were older than him, but who were no match for Percy.

''It's easy to mess with people smaller than you, isn't it? Why don't you play with someone your own size?”

''Would that be you?”

''What do you think?”

The silence fell, a silence that had become common no matter where Percy went. The nose of the boy he had punched was now swollen, blood trickling down his face, and the other, who had been too shocked to react, seemed to wake up from his trance. That would be the perfect moment for them to fight back, wouldn't it? Well, that's what people say, cowards soon give up if they find someone to resist them. And that's what they did, the boy who had watched his friend get knocked down with a single punch, pulled the other by the arms, helping him up and they both staggered into the crowd, running away with their tails between their legs.

Percy watched them fleeing in the distance between the cars and turned to Nico who was still leaning against the wall, the corner of his lips reddened and and on his arms and neck, marks of fingers and nails. The worst part was seeing the tears that kept falling or how Nico cowered, expecting other people to come and do the same to him. Percy didn't think, realizing that this was becoming something usual for them, and Percy didn't like it one bit, the fact that Nico had to hide in corners because of people's prejudice. 

He walked over to Nico and stopped in front of him, offering his hand. He had learned the hard way that touching someone when you don't feel safe or when you're in shock is the worst thing to do. So he just stood close without touching Nico, and tried to get his attention:

''Nico.'' Percy said in the softest voice.

''No, I… Percy?'' Percy held on and tried to be strong, Nico seemed to be reacting to everything worse than the previous time.

''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I was waiting for you... then, these... these boys showed up and…’’

Percy didn't know what to do. He felt his heart break when Nico took a step towards him and opened his eyes wide, his pupils unfocused and wet, as if Nico was waking up from a nightmare, and held onto his hands, trembling and breathing fast, still curled up on himself.

''It's allright. Can I hug you?”

''Hug me? Why... why would you want to touch someone like me?’’

''It looks like you need it.’’

''I... I need?'' Then, Nico looked at Percy with the most desolate and lost look he had ever seen.

''Nico. It's allright.'' Percy said it again, refusing to accept what those people were doing to Nico.

''I have to... I have to talk to Bianca, my... my sister.’’

''We will. After we get to my place. Yes?’’

''You promise?’’

''I promise.’’

Then, as if a key had been turned, Nico grabbed his arm and picked up their bags from the floor, saying: ''You dropped it.'' Just like that, like nothing had happened. But Nico was still shaking, gripping his arm tighter and handing one of the bags to Percy, holding his own against his chest in the hope that the bag and Percy would protect him.

Gods! How could someone do this to such a vulnerable and defenseless being? What had Nico done to be treated like this? Then, Percy looked around, recognizing these people. Some were in the same class as them, others Percy knew in passing, and none of them had the decency to help a classmate being abused. That's why they said he was a "rebel", and if it was up to him, things would continue exactly as they were.

''Are you ready?'' Percy said when he saw that Nico was beginning to calm down.

''Hm. Thank you.’’

Percy took Nico's backpack from his shoulder, put it with his own, and led Nico by the hand between the cars parked near the school, spotting a familiar black pick-up truck.

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Thank you for reading. And if you can, send your appreciation in the comments. Until next time!

[adakechi]

my wife of the church of christ of latter day saints @suchagallabitch tagged me in this eons ago but i just set up my pc aaaaa

Your Name: Rin !

Your First Fandom(s): I guess it's technically Sonic The Hedgehog

How did you first get into fandom? I had a YouTube account where me and a bunch of other sonic people posted our sonic recolors and we RP'd them on deviantart

How long have you been engaging with fandom spaces? Since 4th grade so uhhh 14 years ish?

How often do you read fanfics? It depends on how deep in the sauce I'm in so rn maybe 1 or 2 a day? If they're short.

Top 3 characters from your current fandom(s): Bo-Katan, Din Djarin, The Armorer. But if we mean like Star Wars as a whole, Anakin Skywalker, Cal Kestis, and Armitage Hux. For Degrassi atm it's Campbell Saunders, Miles Hollingsworth III, and Maya Matlin.

Have you ever written a fic for a fandom? unfortunately

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom? if so, shout it out! I-I um uh um I draw a lot, all the time so.

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: Din Djarin is a sex god i have no idea why this entire fandom thinks he's a virgin; this does not include ace!din but in fics where he is sex posi WHY IS HE ALWAYS A VIRGIN??? MANS EXCRETES SEX. HE IS A DOM. DIN DJARIN PLEASE RAIL ME.

You're trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them? I would never willingly put someone through Degrassi, but if I want people to like Star Wars I just say watch the OG trilogy, ignore the fanbase, and go from there lol.

And finally, what does fandom mean to you? Exhausting but I've met some cool people so it's pretty worth it

Tag #2

name: rinrin

age: 24

Where in the world are you? Illinois

The meaning behind your UR: tohru adachi + goro akechi = adakechi. campbellssaunders feels self explanatory.

Your second favourite color: teal blue i guess

any pets? well my cat of 16 years george died a few weeks ago and as they say, a bitch is "going thru it rn", but ive still got my bearded dragon akechi.

favourite season? Winter or Fall. So cold. Love.

Last thing you read: I'm reading the third book in the raven cycle series.

Last song you listened to: style - taylor swift (lol)

What are you wearing right now? an ASU tank top and a pair of Jay's shorts bc I do not have my own atm lol

A hobby of yours: art, playing music, rock climbing, hiking, biking, fighting games, writing (sometimes), horror stuff

and finally, what are you up to today? answering mails, applying for jobs, and sweating to death

As always, do these if u want!

[fraener]

2/7/24

had very hard week just now...h got sick and it freaked me out so bad that i made myself sicker than him with worry. my anxiety absolutely consumed me, it began last weekend with a series of small anxiety attacks that i managed just fine with and then a terrible multi day panic attack from h getting sick. my ibs was the worst its ever been and i felt so awful i couldnt calm down no matter what i did. i kept having recurring dreams of evading getting sick and then just having to accept it was goin to happen to me...i wanted to believe it was a dream drought and they werent premonitory but in the end i got sick too! it was such a cathartic experience i still cant fully believe it happened...it was physically unpleasant for sure but h took such good care of me i honestly had an amazing time. i didnt get even as sick as he did with it but i was sick for a bit longer like usual, somehow i get through things low and slow these days whereas he gets through then fast and hard. i think today my stomach is finally all the way back to normal. im glad i didnt actually throw up but at the same time theres a lot of parts of me that are really disappointed it didnt happen because it would have been extra cathartic if it had. from this ive managed to get a little bit of peace. im still feeling bothered from my ibs episode, therapist says i have to go to the doctor about it and im sort of frightened to do that. not only because im scared theyll find something, but also because the imaging procedures are often unpleasant and scary...still struggling with pttm and d/m trying to override everything. but i had a flash of wanting to draw something for the first time in over a year which was huge, and while i was sick i felt full of excitement and freedom, and yesterday evening i walked for a long time to the northernmost point in the twin bays and the sky felt so broad and i felt so calm like i did in the field behind the radio station on the island or home at my grandmas in co... big sense of peace right around the corner. im changing little by little and coming back to myself after a long time. i saw white salal and pink hazel flowers and the osoberry and snowdrops and witch hazel and red flowering currant are all blooming now. the chorus frogs are croaking. spring is frighteningly early this year but for some reason i feel ok about it. im really nervous itll be terribly terribly hot this summer, like the first summer i lived in this apartment. i suppose all i have to do is wait and see. it would be poetic for the last summer to be like the first one. im graduating this summer, i dont know what to do with myself next. im trying not to think of it being so big and empty on the other side of that. somehow i still never got to do all of the things i wouldve liked to here, not like in high school where i managed everything i wanted and more. ive been having dreams about r again recently, i suppose hes on my mind. i saw him from afar a couple of times in the last week or so. the runes and cards say we have some kind of unknown relationship that isnt approachable yet but is bubbling and forming under the surface in a big way, but undetermined in its gestation because neither of us know what we want from one another. another thing to wait and see about. i want to let go and paint again.

[tamaharu]

ignore the first posts caption thats not what this is about anymore. i hate time loops actually. some ocs designed to ask the question on everybodys mind: how many days could you spend trapped in a car with a dashcon attendee before you started trying to open the door on the highway.

fake blurb + long vomit of my thought process regarding them below.

Lizi (LastName) is probably the world's biggest fan of the YouTube duo (IDK), and now that she's finally got her driver's license, she's ready to undertake what may be the most important task of her entire life: proving once and for all that they're a couple. While attempting a solo drive from New Mexico to a convention they're paneling in California, she encounters Melanie (LastName), the third child and youngest star of a massively successful family vlogging channel, accidentally left behind at a gas station while their family took the very same trip (or so they claim). Lizi promises to drive them to the convention, in exchange for use of their creator pass to get backstage and finally meet her idols. The plan is simple, the execution less so, where only the strongest of keyboard warriors can survive. And, ultimately, the drive leaves Lizi with a difficult question to answer: is RPF… fine?

who knows. none of this is real. theyre generally the same characters as they were in the first three pics (chronically online teen and 12yo whos really not into it) but the situation is much different. i tend to go 'characters/fun story element' first, 'plot' second, which um. isnt the best way to do that lol. so i was like i want to put characters in a time loop. and then drew them. and was like, great, but how do i put them in a time loop? i kind of figured itd being 'sneak backstage to some tv show or something, try to meddle,' but couldnt work anything more concrete. so i stopped thinking about them!

then maybe over a year or so at this point, i read an article abt kids who had grown up as part of those family vloggers/bloggers and how it affected their life. and then i thought abt the difference between that vs the emotional neglect of kids who kind of grew up with the internet as their parents. so i always meant to draw them in these new circumstances, but i wasnt quite sure what i wanted those circumstances, beyond their new backstories and the Meddling Kids conceit, to be.

and THEN, i was thinking abt ocs at work today when a bolt of inspiration struck: but like, what if this was actually about dan and phil the whole time. i watched them as a kid but wasnt like, big into them. but ive been watching more recently and have been kind of fascinated by the fan culture they built, both in their heyday and how its transformed into what it is now. like, the fake working title (on that very very rough poster draft) is blatantly stolen from an old dnp video title. and thus all the elements have combined. though let me be clear: ITS NOT ABOUT DAN AND PHIL. its about my fake ocs and parasociality and 12yos and their terrible babysitters and unrealistic roadtrips. .......but its also not... NOT about dan and phil.... make that the new tagline.

im not going to do anything big with them. but im glad to at least finally have figured out what to do with them, so i can draw them more. clearly i need to. bc what is up with what i did to lizis design this most recent attempt compared to her original (tbf cartoony) design. i realized as i was coloring she looked too much like me and i got scared so i gave her green hair.

some ocs designed to asked the question on everybodys mind: how many days could you spend trapped in a time loop with a genshin fan before you started scratching at the walls

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

night