#the goal for these drawings is to try and help me find a new rendering style since I was really not happy with my last one

[xxrat--punkxx]

Repair day

[thr0wnawayy]

How Corrupt Is Hero Society?. Part 2

Nomu and Endeavor, a cause for concern

To add to the today's chatter about Endeavor and his excessive force and how that applies to the rest of MHA's "heroics". I'd like to point something out

It has always been this way

Excessive violence against Nomu isn't anything new, ever since Hori downgraded them into punching bags so the audience wouldnt question the morality of it all.

It does, however bring into light just how desensitized Hero Society is, how they view villains and may display some quirk-ism. Allow me to elaborate.

To the publics knowledge this is a PERSON.

The general public, hell most heroes. Had no fucking clue what a Nomu was. To their knowledge this was just someone with a heavy mutation quirk.

And they just, carry on.

Endeavor's gut instinct here was to burn his head off to stop him from regenerating and no one bats an eye.

But don't worry it gets worse.

Gran Torino is someone the community has dug into countless times for his attitudes towards Shigaraki and belief that "killing is another way to save"

So when Torino does this:

it doesn't really help his case, especially when Endeavor tried to kill that Nomu prior to this by incinerating him alive (almost killing 2 civilians. But I'll get to that)

Such a move would at the very least, sever someone's spine rendering them paralyzed for life. While I can see what Torino was trying to do, the ends do not justify the means here.

I'm not saying the Nomu are innocent, but it's blatantly obvious that they should be aiming to detain them rather than resorting to lethal force right away.

The worst part is the public has no reaction to this. No one asks anything and the authorities sure as hell aren't telling them squat.

We see it again during the Hood Fight and what's worse is that Hood can talk, bringing into question of how sapient is Hood.

Again Endeavor incinerates the Villain and no questions are asked.

Alright remember what I said about the two civilians?. well it gets worse, Firstly, they didn't even know if they were alright until near the end of the Hosu Incident, just letting them run off.

After Endeavor recklessly unleashes a wall of flame, the Nomu absorbs it and processed to reflect the same attack.

(on a second note: Torino and Enji even refer to the Nomu as if they were fighting a Human!?)

What does this mean?. Well that Enji ran into that fight without thinking!.

He didn't even so much as think up a strategy (just like a certain blonde we all know and despise) for what would happen if the opponent just, didn't die.

In Vigilantes he opts to bathe an entire city block in fire because he can't find the Villain (6)

He creates a fucking fire tornado with no thought for collateral damage

(The reactions of his sidekicks concern me, though knowing how Burnin' reacted to Dabi's exposé I'm not suprised.)

Given that he's this destructive and openly antagonistic in public, I don't even want to imagine the state Rei was in after every "training session" spent protecting Shoto.

This is why looking back, I can't say I'm suprised how some of the civilians dove back into worshipping heroes, even after Hawks killed a man and Heroes left them to fend for themselves.

Because as the saying goes

A bird stuck in a cage believes flying to be an illness

_______________________________________

Additional Info:

As pointed out by @gecmi09 (thank you for bringing that up), Endeavor did indeed refer to Crawler and Popstep as villains, as seen here:

I'd like to draw attention to the fact that he is drawn in a similar manner to Number Six, who is also often drawn in a silhouetted fashion, especially when his true colors are exposed.

The two characters are ironically very similar. Both are willing to resort to destructive means if it means achieving their goals.

Both willingly hurt those around/close them and use flawed logic in an attempt to justify their actions.

Both pretend to be something/someone they're not

Both of them brought about their own demise through one of their victims (Dabi and Knuckleduster [who took in Koichi] respectively. Though Six's was more indirect.)

Even though Vigilantes is loosely attached to MHA, I find it interesting that these two characters are so similar. Really makes you think.

[aemiron-main]

I adore your artstyle. I feel like I'm never happy with my own cause it looks so boring and unstylized. Got any good tips?

AHHH THANK YOU ANON!! <<333

And believe me, I’ve been in your shoes. Seriously. Even now, I still have 26474885 new things I want to try with my art and things I want to change. But I DO have some tips for you- hopefully theyre good tips!

So, I think one of the key things is looking at other artists and pulling their art apart.

Practice and spending the time actually creating art is important, but I’d argue that spending time analyzing art is equally important. I spend a lot of time looking at art, and then instead of just staring at it, I try and figure out what EXACT elements of it that I want to incorporate into my own work. For example, if I like the way somebody does lineart, and the way another person does their rendering, I’ll try and figure out how they did it & why I like it & try to combine it with the way another artist does rendering or lines/the way I want to do them. I spend a LOT of time pulling at apart, seriously. I send various pieces to my own private discord server channel & literally talk to myself about them and what exactly I like about them and how EXACTLY I want to change my own work. I do probably as much typing as I do drawing when it comes to art.

Also, a good question to ask yourself when you see a piece of art you like is “I like this art, BUT- do I want my art to look like this?”. There’s artists whose styles I ADORE, but I don’t want my art to look like theirs- for example, I love looking at people with super heavily stylized art with only flat colouring & no rendering, but it’s not how I want my art to look & isn’t the type of art that I enjoy creating.

So, being able to pull apart various pieces and go “okay, WHY do I like this piece and DO i want MY art to look like this?” is something that’s definitely helped me.

I also think it’s super important to set actual, solid goals and figure out what you want your art to do.

What I mean when I say “figure out what you want your art to do,” is in terms of “okay, well, do you want everything more flat and visible with less rendering and less volume? or more rendering and more volume? Do you want to focus on design/concept work? Do you want to be able to do complex poses or complex lighting or both? What matters more to you- having a painting with dramatic, heavily contrasting lighting, or having a style where everything is easily visible & not obscured by shadow, or some combination of the two? Do you want to be good at drawing couples? Complex backgrounds? Both? HOW do you want to draw those couples and complex backgrounds? Lots of volume? Minimal volume? Focus on lighting? Focus on lines? Somewhere in between? tc"

Personally, I try and visualize it as a give and take situation/a sliding scale with tradeoffs when it comes to stylization. On one side of my scale, I’ve got super linework-focused, flat colours art that’s more focused on shape and less focused on volume and minimal lighting. On the opposite side, I’ve got super rendered, painterly art with complex lighting. And I’ve been trying to find an ideal combination of the two, and that’s where the tradeoffs I mentioned come in.

My work used to be even MORE linework heavy than it is now/flatter (which is great, just not the direction I wanted to personally keep going), and I had SO much trouble doing painting/rendering and it frustrated me and I couldnt figure out why. But then, I realized I had to make a tradeoff- my complex linework didn’t work well for heavily rendered styles, because the sketches/drawings/lines for paintings on that “super rendered basically no visible linework” side of the art scale are generally meant to be more for function rather than form.

My lines weren’t serving the function they needed to, they weren’t doing the heavy lifting that they needed to, so the rest of the painting would collapse & wouldn’t work and I would get frustrated as all hell when trying to paint.

What I mean when I talk about the lines doing heavy lifting is what I said earlier with the sketches in painterly styles generally being more function over form. I needed to think of my lines as supporting the painting and acting more as a *map* for things like the lighting (see: shadow mapping) & as using fewer lines to make room for more volume (the tradeoff). My lines weren't doing that, I wasn't really thinking about where I was putting them/how I was using them/how they interacted with other elements of the piece (such as the lighting & how that affects the way I do lines).

I also highly highly highly recommend the book/resource "anatomy for sculptors"- you can find a bunch of excerpts from it on pinterest/all over the internet, but it really is a phenomenal resource and a unique resource IMO because it does a really great job of demonstrating the link between the anatomy vs the planes of the face/shapes that make up that anatomy, and bridging the gap between 2D shapes and 3D forms.

Also, just some basic tips that help me in general: -Your areas of detail should also be your areas of high contrast. This sounds more complicated than it actually is, but basically, it doesn't matter how much detail you put in a low-contrast area of a painting, because it won't show up (because it's low contrast). So, keeping your high contrast areas as your detail areas is a good thing to keep in mind, esp when working on more complex paintings. -General proportion "rules". I try and keep in mind some general rough tips like "the eyes should have the width of one eye between them," and "the face should be roughly the sized of a splayed out hand".

-Straights vs curves. I think about the straight lines vs the curved lines a LOT in my art.

-What works for me may not work for you. Different people think differently. What works for other artists may not work for either or us. What works for other artists may work great for you but not for me.

Also, experiment with different brushes. They DO make a difference. No brush will fix a lack of understanding of the fundamentals, but a brush that works for you will make those fundamentals easier to learn/apply. Personally, I draw with a combination of the default photoshop pressure opacity tapered airbrush and one of Ruan Jia's free textured square brushes.

And also, experiment with overlay layers/all those different types of layer. Seriously, that was a gamechanger for me, especially in terms of stylization and giving more of my art that warm feeling/look that it has. My art actually usually starts out very cool toned and I slowly warm it up via colour changes and various yellow (or other colours) overlay/soft light etc layers.

And I don’t say any of this to box you in/overwhelm you, just to give you a list of things I wish I knew sooner.

Also, I think people focus too much on having one consistent style. I 10000% understand needing to have a consistent style for commission purposes, but as far as just developing your art goes. just experiment and figure out what you like and what works best and the style WILL come.

ANYWAY! Hope this helped, I'm like half awake rn so it's not as coherent as I'd like it to be.

[spectralstitions]

oc thoughts and goals for 2025

Posting this here because it feels like the most informal place to dump some thoughts.

First of all I thought I'd mention that I change stuff about my ocs so often and post so infrequently that maybe like 95% of what is on this blog is outdated. So. That's great.... I'm truly using this blog to its fullest potential....

Second of all...... 2024 was a fantastic year for me in terms of unraveling my artistic mental blocks, but the problems I have with my ocs remain more or less unchanged. These blocks are difficult to describe, but they stress me to the point of being unable to draw my little guys or develop them much at all. Nor have I been able to make new ocs, as I feel a need to "complete" the pre-existing ones, as if they are each individual projects. As a result I've felt frozen; I'm not able to do much with them, and I can't so much as talk specifics about them with my friends because it stresses me out so much. The blocks exist not for a lack of trying to unmake them, and overall, you could probably say I made some progress this year as a byproduct of working through my art issues. But like with those, my oc problems are enigmatic and figuring out the root of them will be just as difficult as solving them. It took me over a year to identify and rewire the mentalities that rendered me unable to draw much, so I figure the timeline for my ocs will look similar.

The extent to which I get worked up over my fictional people is very silly and I'm well aware of this, especially because it's completely invisible to everyone else. And I wish I could get it through to myself that It's really not that serious, they're just ocs, they're supposed to be fun, because it works for the few characters I have that AREN'T story related. But when I was a kid I placed so much importance on having clearly defined characters with a structured, set-in-stone story to the extent that it felt like the only point of my life. And now I realize, I don't have much capacity for creating stories or characters in that specific way, but the pressure remains -- because honestly, what else do I do? I love drawing characters, but I only get emotional fulfillment from drawing the same ones over and over again. Which is a way to do it if you can create stories and/or find ways to invest other people in them, but that's always been a weak point of mine, and my motivation to work on it is very low because I'm not even really interested in doing that anymore. I keep revamping and changing things about my characters because I'm trying to come up with a structure that singlehandedly fixes what's happening in my mind and lets me fully engage with my characters again, which I realize now is never going to happen. Even if my structure is to have no structure, that's still an expectation of something that I put on myself that doesn't much affect my thought process or workflow. And although I can recognize this, I can not emphasize enough how difficult it is for me to break out of a system-setting or structure-making mentality like this. It's just completely unnatural to my character. It took at least a full year of trying nearly every day to rewire myself for my art, and this problem is far more relevant to my ocs than it was to art.

So.... what do I do then? Well, that's kinda what I want to figure out in 2025. OCs used to bring me more joy than anything else and I miss that. Like I mentioned before, there are little things that have improved this year, even if only marginally. I've been able to draw a few characters consistently, giving me something of a reference point to study. Those characters being -- my human AU of Jesper and Lily and, primarily, my sona. In both cases, allowing for vagueness and exploration of ideas to the point of lore/story contradictions has been extremely helpful. My sona in particular is a good example of the type of character I think I need to start making more of; they actually have a good amount of lore to them, but I sort of just pick and choose what pieces I care about for any given drawing so that I'm not stressed about depicting them "perfectly" -- because there is no perfect version of them, there's practically like 5 different versions of them. But I think of them as just 1 character, because their core concept, personality, and design motifs remain. Importantly though, and what makes this mindset very hard to follow for pre-existing ocs, is that I cannot LITERALLY pick and choose what lore to follow for a given work, or else the problems happen. It has to be unintentionally thoughtless, which is incredibly difficult for me, especially when I've already artificially placed so much importance on "making something" with my ocs. How can I treat them thoughtlessly when they're supposed to be so important?? Well, somehow I need to walk back a lifetime's worth of conditioning, so that I can realize, or rather, so that my body can realize, they're not actually so important.

I think my favorite way to have characters is to base them around a concept or topic that I have fun exploring many facets of very deeply (whether exploring an unconventional relationship type, untapped potential for particular symbolism, or something else) and to give them a core personality and set of design motifs. And then doing whateverthefuck with everything else. These allow me to fulfill a touch of my desire for structure, give me the means to express myself, and the means to form the emotional bond I need in order to get the dopamine hit that I need in order to draw anything in the first place (this is a whole nother problem and why I rarely make non-character art, though hypothetically I'd love to; it's just mentally hellish). And because of the vagueness, I get the dress-up doll aspects that keep me motivated to do things with them and have fun exploring things in new ways. But it's not without drawbacks, the main one being that communicating the point of my ocs or their deal to other people becomes very confusing and not super possible, and I can never make any consistent functional story with them, which is somehow both incredibly freeing and also really hard for me to grapple with for previously mentioned reasons and makes me feel bad about myself and my life.

It's almost pointless to include any ideas for solutions I have right now, because more than likely I'll drop them after a week when I realize they don't hit right, but... I'll talk about my newest one, since if I go through with it, it'd be more of a tangible example. Going into '25, I'm considering letting go of the idea of a strict world setting / species categories / specific lore etc. entirely and instead create a sort of vague, implied world through isolated artworks of characters and scenes. This way, any implied setting or lore is just the result of what was in my heart the day I drew the thing, causing development to happen more naturally and allowing me to retract, reinterpret, or reorganize things very easily. Not to mention this would coincide very nicely with my 2025 art resolution and inherently get me to draw more, because the art itself would be the "world", and everything would only exist so long as I drew it. It would also be easier to tie into my identity, which is a big motivator for me when it comes to making art and characters. My characters and lore would essentially just become part of my art style, whereas they currently feel separate in my mind. And It's a possible way to trick myself into doing non-character illustration, since I will have an emotional bond to the world, where I can draw things that aren't just the same characters. Is this making any sense to anybody?? It'd be the caspar cinematic (artistic?) universe. Straight from my soul. Imagine it... Reading this back, this is probably just how most illustrators naturally work actually, which should tell you how bad my brain has gotten....

As for what any of this means for the blog, I don't really know? I'm so anxious when it comes to putting any of my character's information on here because I know it'll just change and then the 2 people who read it will have the wrong idea of my characters and I hate that.... this is why I don't use it much. But now that I'm thinking of it, maybe making myself do it anyways, even though I do not want to, could be part of the solution. Getting myself used to posting stuff even knowing it probably won't remain true for very long, and not putting disclaimers on everything apologizing for it... could maybe help rewire my mindset a bit. I need to revert to my middle school days of making ocs to random songs and throwing them all into a universe with no rhyme or reason. I used to have the time of my life sharing them with other people.

In conclusion i need an audhd diagnosis.

[a-weird-cryptid]

Chapter two: Time

This one's rather easy to explain. That's why this chapter won't be that long as the previous one.

If you're an artist, busy with other things like work, school, family or friends related things, as well as other hobbies, you know how hard it can be to find time to draw. Especially if making a drawing or similar takes a lot of time and effort.

Advice:

Since many struggle with finding the time to practice, I'd recommend to do at least a few quick sketches and doodles per day. Since you can easily do them on the side or in just a few seconds to minutes with pretty much and kind of paper and pen. They don't have to be perfect, they don't have to be fully rendered, they don't have to be detailed or complicated, nor proportionally correct. All they're suppose to do is "keeping you in the rhythm".

Another thing you should keep in mind is that just 10min of practice per day, can change your art and make you better. You most likely won't see any huge changes after doing this for only two or three days. But after a month? A year? I'm pretty sure you will. Meaning that you should try to dedicate 10-30min per day to doing just art and really focuse on it, if possible.

Try to find a good balance between work/school, life, friends, family, other hobbies, art, etc. I know it's easier said than done, but it's not an impossible task, if you try to find some kind of rhythm or routine.

During the time you dedicate to your art, you should try not to distract yourself. Don't get me wrong, listening to music or watching a movie or show on the side can really help to spark your creativity. And it's totally alright to do so. I hate drawing in complete silence too. But maybe put your phone away and put it on "silence mode", or at least ignore all of those (social media) notifications. Reading them 10min later will prob not change anything, except that you finally found the time to draw.

Don't forget to take breaks. If you realize that you can't really focus on what you're drawing or you just get frustrated, it's ok to take a break. This break can last for minutes or hours, but also for weeks or even months. If you realize that doing art now only feels like another chore, pressuring you, you should always take some time off. Of course this won't be possible for all artists, especially those who do it as a full time job, but if you can, then do it. The only important thing is that you get back to drawing eventually, if getting better is still a goal you want to achieve.

You could also try to make some kind of "daily plan". Try to set yourself one goal at the time, planning when to do what, how much you want to do and maybe even what exactly to draw/work on. This way, you don't "waste" time having to search for something that you want to draw and you can immediately go to work. Try to achieve your daily goal. If you can't, work on it the next time. And if still have some time left, you can use it to start a new project.

Don't try to do multiple huge projects at once. This will most likely lead to you being overwhelmed and feel even more pressured. Which is never a good thing when you're struggling with time limits. If you want to work on multiple projects at once, either work on many small and simple ones or one larger project and just a few smaller ones. Focusing mainly on the larger project.

---

That's all I could think abt when it comes to that point, but I'd love if you guys would add a few things or similar!

Summary:

do at least a few quick sketches and doodles per day

try to dedicate 10-30min per day to doing just art

Try to find a good balance between all the things you have to do

try not to distract yourself

Don't forget to take breaks

try to make some kind of "daily plan"

Don't try to do multiple huge projects at once, instead work on many small and simple ones or one larger project and just a few smaller ones

Introduction

Chapter 1: Practice

Chapter 3: Inspiration

Chapter 4: Passion/Motivation

For more original series, as well as reviews, discussions and similar, check out my master list of series.

[mi5014-abbiesmith]

Final Thoughts

This module has been challenging throughout but the end products I am very proud of. 

When starting, I had very little idea of what I wanted to do other than something new. The initial research was one of the most fun parts of this module as looking into this kind of topic was something I could really dive into. I still had no real direction but I think having that rich starting point helped a lot. Finding the Silent Pool myth was a coincidence, in that it was in a book my family sent me to use and it was close to home so I felt more of a connection to it. Again the initial research into this was fun. Moving from there got more complicated. 

I had a lot of problems figuring out what I wanted to take from my chosen myth. It would have been easy to just make the original myth, not changing anything, and in trying to avoid that I think I confused myself and made it more complicated than it needed to be. The initial concept was interesting and I think while I didn’t go with it it helped me understand what I didn’t want to do. Working through this was my first big problem. I think I also got bogged down with what deeper part of myth I wanted to look at; the pursued and pursuer; women in myth; fabrication of myths or the changing for someone's own benefit. I think I understood after a while that I can work from these ideas without having them being the focus. 

When I got past this I again got stuck into the problem of getting stuck into the same style that I draw a lot of characters. With some guidance, I managed to get out of that by pushing my designs and taking inspiration from places I haven’t before rubber hose animation. The other problem I had was that I had a lot of ideas for one character and not the other, and found my attention diverted unequally. I also at this point was only working on the aesthetics and not the backstory. It wasn’t till I finally worked on these backstories and the concepts it all feel into place easier. Having something to fall back on while I designed was helpful and in hindsight I should have done it a lot earlier. 

The designing and modelling process went well, but again there were problems with Maya. For the most part these happened at the very end of the character design, with Maya crashing at the end of the year and my own laptop working but having extreme problems with rendering. I do think I have made it over these problems, but it was something that took a lot of time since my computer couldn’t render more than 20 frames approx before crashing and being reset. 

Overall, this module has been interesting. I feel like I have had a lot of things to work through to get to this point but what I have come up with it so much more than I thought I could make at the beginning. Making both a male and female character was one of my main goals and I achieved this as well as making these quite stylised which I never would have thought I would do. 

[madfantasy]

Dear Blogging

Hope ur doing well🍀

When I realise my updates are futher apart in time, it makes me sad. I don't have much new to say, I am in the same trance following no time yet feeling every passing second. In progress that I can't feel because of how much I'm used to pain and nothingness. I am okay, finally had the brain power to make words today, the last months were exceptionally difficult as I mentioned the unrelenting near 50° heat. And for the majority of that time I spent it without any means to cool off, which periodically made me sick and kept me in bed too long. Even more bits of my teeth broke off, rendering me unable to smile or eat without jolts of pain. My unstable network provider topping off the misery.

Since I moved to my "sunny room" I couldn't use the net I waste money on for because of the weak signal, so I had not much sources of distractions or solace. Nothing separating me from the continuous good old times; living in absolute isolation. I don't think I have online connections anymore and wouldn't blame anyone for forgetting me. I'm sorry, I feel absolutely disconnected, I don't know what I want or what to do or how to dare be involved. And in all honesty, I am functioning on 1% energy spent on drawing..

I was trying to have a goal to compete that, to keep my faith up and have hope and project it. Wanting a red and black room was one, but I gave up on it because I didn't have enough work to afford it, and really the experience of buying stuff online only to find the advertised color was a lie, specially if its red was a huge waste of time and money. And my guardians fed up with me asking them to return things, ungraciously. I liked my room eventually

After prolonged periods of depression, I found myself longing for my traditional art, flicking through my old diary. I craved to return able to draw on paper again, and the few times I tried, memories, good and bad gushed through. Relived again how it was to draw in secret and to love things you are constantly told are not for you or called it not natural and be punished severely for.. just made me cry over how culture always just hurt for the sake of hurting and uses religion as a loose cape, mourning them using it to exclude while it was something aimed to be harmonious with all and they never focus on being actual good people over keeping appearances.. for the longest time making me wonder if something was actually wrong with me beyond just being different than them.. now there's plethora of mental things thanks to their abuse. Starting with my inability to look at people without feeling quick to panic discomfort. Making me see this isolation as they say, a "blessing in disguise ". I don't know how to take that as, tbh, I still to this day get nightmares of when I used to live in big houses with multiple families, or the endless schools I went to.

I started drawing on paper bit by bit. The minute I find myself overwhelmed I stop. With time I felt I can enjoy it again, and recalled all what passer through my mind as kid, how I fantasised of owning the chunkiest coloring tin or the thickest drawing paper. So decided to get sketchbooks and notebooks and try everything new, I didn't care

I didn't know where to start, so I got randomly selected sketchbook and one lockable journal, so I can hopefully write diary again like i used to. I show everything i get to them but already Guardians couldn't help themselves and flick though it, I didn't say anything but my inside automatically clinched and turned into an angry imp snatching to have it back, like i used to actually react when they searched my school things for doodles.

I changed the lock c:

I learned of the existence of more mechanical pencil sizes so I got every possible one, carefully not breaking my law of owning only red and black things, hehe. Also some essentials so my guardians won't comment on my spending ways. Like a tooth brush, and the best bonnet ever. I also got myself a backpack for my pen people to live in, for the longest time I wanted a shark backpack but this one just screamed Mani (it was cheaper 😝). As kid I had a red bag with snoopy's face on it, it was my literal safe zone that I carried it everywhere, pretended to travel in cardboard boxes with and had many garbage things stored in it that ment something dear to me, already that blissful feeling is regenerated when i wore it. And hopefully next month I get work to buy colors..

I got my eyes on those atm

(Also something funny, I can promise you I got the talk about devil worship from them for getting horns, and here's the thing; they know about the actual sketchy devil worship practices, its a common knowledge in our surroundings. To me, having red horns it felt Mani like, style euphoria, I love being a polite naughty gentlethem and that spoke of it clearly to me so I didn't care too much)

I also in my careless defiance rush, bought a shoulder- abaya that resembles more of a cloak, to me at least. To help dim my dysphoria even for the tiniest bit and maybe give me one point of courage to want to go out when possible. 'Cause the only thought i have when I'm out is absolute fear, or brain blanking out on me and i freeze in my place

I was stressed for so long that they might fight me on it because they never allowed me to wear but the cover ups of their choice from the dark ages, one I could not walk in or see where I was headed in (i actually wear glasses to see), but I presented it to them and I don't think they noticed.

Maybe now i can feel comfortable in it, throughout the years I never really adjusted to wearing it— having almost no occasion to leave the house 3/4 of my life. It was never something i felt connected to, been only a reminder of pure shame and embarrassment. From the very first day I started to cover my face at middle school, was forced to do that the day before, non of my guardians taught me how to wear it. And the minute it fell from my face thanks to my clumsy attempts at tying it, my face was welcomed with— not the fresh air and 4k sight clarity, but a slap that knocked me back into the car. Followed by an entire hysterical berating, calling me a sl*t and what have you, for everyone who was dropping their kids to see and hear.

I didnt know it at the time, but i was also mocked of how I wore it many times by my peers, while some took petty on me and dressed me themselves. I merely envied those foreign students who wore it just to follow the school rules and offed it the minute they got into their cars to leave. I still have no answer to what I truly want, and thats okay..

I forgot to mention how they can be super pricy, so I got the cheapest I could, resulting it being thick, strings jutting everywhere, way too big on me and all of its buttons fell. So I had to do some long hem shortenings and buttons sewing, I think I started to like it

I now just need someone to hold my hand and never let go, to take me to the hospital and hypothetically be my voice till mine return... manifesting

Oh and i did drew alot of snarry cuz it was my only cure during this time of dissociative routine, ofc endless of sketches that did not make it and 2 did, and still more to come hopefully when I continue to feel better

I wish you all the best in this world my dears, your burdens ease and your heart beats with your desires met , mani loves you ❤️‍🔥🍀🕊🙏

24.6.2022

[chameleocoonj]

IM SORRY NOT SORRY FOR MASS LIKING UR POSTS BUT OMG BESTIE???

Dude.

Dude dude dude dude dude dude dude dude DUDE.

Okay. So. So um. Some context here.

I have a pretty bad phobia of bugs.

A couple of summers ago, a bad mix of new meds and some awful ocd behaviors spiked me into the red zone where I would cry over an ant on my ceiling and be unable to sleep out of pure fear. I would check over every corner in every room I entered so that I wouldn’t be surprised by bugs. I was a wreck, and it was taking up a huge amount of my days to do all of this.

After going to therapy, I slowly learned to manage my fears, and slowly but surely I went back to a better version of myself; with coping mechanisms and a newfound respect for bugs. (Even if I fear them, still.)

Now, years later, I’ve discovered your blog and your content, and I have to say that your artwork makes me smile so much. I love the way that you draw bugs and insects and arachnids and the like; especially with the shape language and the way that you render your pieces in such a cute style.

This year I’ve actually been getting better at letting spiders go, even if they’re too close for comfort; I feel too bad not to, they’re funky little fellas and they’re great for the environment. And your blog is introducing me to so many cute little fellas we don’t get here… Its awesome!

I just wanted to thank you for making such amazing art of lil creatures that don’t get a lot of love irl. Im giving you a follow since not only is it awesome; but you’re giving me a lot of inspiration to maybe go and search up some critters for myself— or at least practice character design again with some more unique concepts in mind. What’s great is it gives me the chance to face my fears and look up images that I normally wouldn’t, that would give me the heebie jeebies; mainly to gain more respect and love for these guys— maybe even hop over a hurdle or two in terms of my fear of them.

So…

Thank you. Thank you so much. :D /gen /pos

Keep up the great work! 💖

(Will find some cute images off of Google dot com and send you them via a second ask so that I don’t lose this one adhsjdhs)

Wow, thank you so much! It's wonderful to know my bug art is helping people feel more comfortable with bugs, that's one of my goals!! I've been trying really hard to balance cuteness and realism in my bug art for just that reason. I think a fear of bugs is perfectly rational- they are mysterious, alien in appearance, and sometimes genuinely dangerous- what I find irrational is a hatred of bugs. I'm no mental health expert, but there is definitely a level of healthy fear and respect to have for our creepy crawly pals, and I'm glad it sounds like you're there! I've gotten the occasional weird and cruel comment on my work about spiders or wasps, but it's all overshadowed by things like your writing here. Thank you for your kindness! <3

Here are some doodlies of a few of the bugs you sent me in your other ask, really good choices in the cute department :>

[dinner-djarin]

Sore (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)

(I know the gif is from Monday, but it's as good as it's gonna get)

Summary: Bucky takes care of your aching body, but while he’s at it, he might as well take care of the other ache that needs his attention.

Warmings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. (minors dni), possibly unprotected sex (not directly stated), fingering, piv,

Rating: Explicit

Words: ~1.5K

“Buckyyyy” you wine from your sprawled out position on the bed.

“Yes love.” He answers from the bathroom, finishing his night routine.

“It huuuurts.” You call out again, this time making your voice more soft with your complaint, enough to draw him in.

“What hurts?” He asks, and you hear the source of his tenor much closer than it was before. Suddenly you feel his heat radiate, and you open your eyes to see his form hovering over yours. A gasp escapes your lips, but he continues, “Tell me where, exactly.”

“Everywhere,” you respond breathlessly. Slowly he peels off your t-shirt exposing your bare chest. For a moment you almost groan at the idea, feeling less than physically capable.

Instead, his strong hands grip your body, as he kneels over your hips, and flips you onto your belly before you can even process the chain of events.

He leans over you and whispers directly into your ear, “Where, love?”

You mumble something incoherent as he starts pressing his fingers into your shoulder blades. His thumbs dig deep into the crevices of each muscle, finding the tight knots and loosening them with what you know must be little effort for him. As he outlines the dip of your spine with the palms of each hand, your entire body can’t help but shiver. One hand a bekon of heat, the other teases your senses with pure ice.

At the bottom of your spine, he kneads the palms of his hands into your ass. He works one hand over the flesh, starting dangerously close to the centre, and working his way out, pulling at the muscles. Then with his left, he grazes the area more gently, bringing cool relief to the inflamed area.

He then grabs the back of each of your arms and digs his thumbs between bicep and tricep muscles, making small circular motions that remind you of something-

A groan escapes your lips when he hits a spot in your neck so wonderfully painful. The mix of release and tension so overwhelming it forces the sounds from your throat without your permission. As he pulls on your muscles there, you notice a subtle relief taking over where a throbbing pain used to settle.

“Breath for me baby,” he whispers again. You heed his advice, taking a large, slow inhale and feeling the oxygenated blood reach your swollen muscles, trying to relieve the pain. As you are in the middle of your exhale, however, Bucky takes advantage and presses down once, strong and rapidly, right in the middle of your spine. Release cascades through each vertebrae, and this time you welcome the full moan that follows.

“Jesus, Buck. You are magic.” you whimper from your vulnerable state, feeling fully flattened and steamrolled.

“You don’t know the half of it sweetheart,” his deep voice returning in full force with that sentence, as he flips you back around.

Now with his eyes examining your worked over body, a rush of heat and adrenaline courses through you. You find yourself in a very different mood altogether.

Your cheeks redden as he stares you down, and you smile mischievously, as your fingers make their way to the hem of either his shirt or his pants - whichever you can get to first. When he notices the movement though, he pins your hands to the bed. “Not yet, darling. I need a good look at you. I missed you today.”

“One day at work makes you miss me this much?” You wonder aloud.

“Absolutely.” He dives down to meet your lips with his, and without hesitation you grant him access to your mouth. His tongue makes its way to your own, first with a lick to your upper lip, and a nip to your lower. His hands grab your breasts and he continues to massage them with his thumbs. You hiss at the contrast again, your right nipple perking instinctively at the freezing touch.

With his hands distracted, you reach back down to your original goal. You grab at the waist of his pants and try desperately to pull down, only getting enough fabric to reveal the v-shape muscle and trail of gorgeous brown hair, teasing you towards your true intent.

“Bucky, please.” you wine into his mouth, his right hand making its way into your hair, bracing the back of your neck to keep you locked onto his mouth.

“Slowly, darling. You're hurt, aren’t you?” he teases with a smile, and you groan at his taunting ridicule. You instantly knew the mood he was in, as he had often treated you just like this. He would continue to control every move, push you to your breaking point, and only then - when you were begging for relief - would give you what you desired.

His movements were deliberate. His left hand slid down your body, gliding over your hip and around your ass. He craved more of you in his grip and continued his kneading as you snaked your own arms around his waist, pulling him close in search of contact. In search of friction. Before you could achieve closeness yourself, he slid his hand below your knee and pulled your right leg over his shoulder and replaced his left hand over your clit. With just one layer of fabric between you, the cold was bearable. But soon, his fingers searched deeper, pushing aside your underwear and instantly finding the smooth skin with his thumb. You whined out at the contact. Writhing against his body as you processed his touch. Your nerves felt on fire, but your skin was ice.

After circling the area and letting you adjust to his hand, he slipped a finger into your cunt, earning him another muffled moan, this time verging on a coherent word - but not quite.

Your hips thrusted against his hand, begging for deeper contact than his finger was allowing for. He grew irritated at fighting against the fabric of your underwear and effortlessly ripped them off your body.

“You owe me. Again” you pant between laboured breaths.

“Add it to my tab, love.”

But Bucky was not done with you. Another finger found its way into you, and he curled them up repetitively - over and over - right in a spot that would have had you cursing his name if your mouth had been able to form the words.

You felt your orgasm rising quickly. The blood rushing in from your extremities, leaving them numb and almost cold, as your core heated up rapidly. Your mouth fell open and your breath began to stutter. But just before your walls could squeeze around his hand, he was gone.

“Hey!” You pouted as you snapped your eyes open, staring at him in ridicule.

“Slowly.” He reminded you in a dark, haunting voice.

“If every single muscle in my body wasn’t in a ridiculous amount of pain, I would so kick your ass, Barnes.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

But before you can respond, you are met with an achingly satisfying pressure right up against your clit, rendering you speechless again. Bucky slowly rocks his hips back and forth, soaking the length of his cock in your slick. Your body responds to his movements, and you jerk your hips up to his, seeking more contact, more of him. With each of your thrusts you feel his tip press just past your entrance, teasing you mercilessly, but still bringing you a steady sense of pleasure.

But just when you find a steady rhythm, he snaps forward, plunging into you with sheer force making you finally cry out his name.

Your position is heavenly. With your leg over his shoulder, he leans forward, stretching you to your limit and allowing him to reach a point so deep and aching that you lose all sense of rationality.

The words on your lips drive him crazy as he continues his bruising pace. Over and over you writhe as the pain and pleasure overwhelm you. Your body cries for more as you meet every thrust with your own, desperate for every inch of him. It brings him to the edge, hearing you pant and moan and ache for him. Every breath brings a new, wild sound, and it takes every ounce of restraint to hold back his own groans so he can indulge in every one of your own.

He sees how close you are to your own release. Your body begins to shake as pleasure washes over you. Your whimpers of pleasure turn into breathless pants as your body weakens. Your hips slow, but Bucky continues to grind into you relentlessly as you ride out your orgasm. Then it all happens at once. Your walls finally clamp, and spasm uncontrollably as your pussy tightens around his cock, gripping him in you and sending him directly into his own high. As you cum together, he releases your leg, and your mouths find one another again. Your body is in dire need of oxygen, but instead you supply it with more of him. His tongue begs for yours, and he enters your mouth, now occupying more space inside you.

Your hands lace behind his neck as you ache to pull him closer, and his hand grips your ass again pulling himself into you more as he slows his pace to an almost complete halt. Even when you’ve both come down from your climax, he remains over you, unwilling to leave your body just yet.

After what feels like eternity, he reluctantly leaves you, making you feel a devastating emptiness that you already desire to fill again.

The two of you lie in silence beside each other, trying to regain your breath and steady your heartbeats.

“What happened to slowly,” you question between exasperated breaths, a slight laughter escaping you once you find some air.

“Serves me right. Now I’m gonna be sore.”

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 5

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / mention of feet

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Baekhyun was trembling. His hands were actually shaking so much each time he tried to type into the keyboard of his phone he hit the wrong letters and the typos rendered his message impossible for even the autocorrect to guess what he was trying to say.

“Just — ugh — just give me a regular keyboard for fuck’s sake,” he was grumbling to himself, “my hands wont stop shaking. I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He tossed the phone with force away from him and it landed face down on the carpet across the living room.

“No. I refuse,” he was staring over at the phone on the floor with a shell shocked aura about him, “just forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t. I won’t!”

You’d given him a homework assignment an hour ago.

Ask a girl out on a date.

He’d been sitting on this sofa with his phone in his hands, writing, deleting, rewriting and deleting, again and again, into the text message conversation he had going with Mia.

It had been going pretty well with Mia actually. You’d been handing him the reins more and more and you both celebrated together with a single glass of wine the night he’d had his first actual phone conversation with her. Baekhyun was a lightweight and usually refused to drink more than a few sips of alcohol but he’d gone for the chilled bottle in the fridge and poured it into two glasses and handed one of them to you and lifted his own into the air. He did not wait for you to acknowledge his toast though. He just downed the contents of his glass with a wince on his face in a single go, slammed the empty glass down onto the counter roughly and stormed out of the kitchen toward his bedroom. You sipped your glass and counted it as a shared celebration.

His phone call lasted for 3 minutes and 32 seconds and he managed to tell one awkward joke that elicited audible laughter from the girl. You knew because you sat on the couch beside him with your ear pulled up as close to the phone as you could manage, trying to hear everything that happened. You’d let him know you were here to intervene if something went wrong but honestly you were sure he would do well on his own. And honestly, he was about to do well on his own, despite how awkward and very nervous his voice was.

They had gotten past the introductions at least twice when he briefly forgot what came after “hello” and simply said it a second time. She at least said it twice too and the awkward pause that came after that went on for too long when you held up the index card in your hand and pointed with your finger to the question you had written down.

“Uhh...so h-how...umm...how are — I mean, what are you up to?”

You couldn't make out her response, but whatever she said pulled an interested hum from the back of his throat and he made a quick witted remark that had her giggling in response.

You could definitely make out the sounds of her laughter and you could instantly see the change on his face when it happened. You saw the brightness form inside his eyes and he turned to look at you with a surprised expression as he lifted a finger to point at the phone he held in his hand.

His eyes were wide with something in between amazement and panic and he mouthed the words ‘she’s laughing’ at you and you nodded enthusiastically in response.

Unfortunately a few seconds after the joke he accidentally dropped the phone and it took a wild bounce, landing somewhere under the couch. He couldn’t find it for two whole minutes and when he finally found it, he made up some excuse about having to go because he smelled something burning.

He stared at the phone until the screen turned black and he didn’t move when you rubbed a soothing hand over his back.

“That went pretty good,” you offered. Baekhyun grunted and turned toward the kitchen for the celebratory toast.

Since that night, (you know the one) you’d intentionally taken on a more supportive teacher role in this project. You vowed to keep yourself involved as much as he needed and you swore you could keep your own selfishness from impeding his progress. The way you had been acting had been unfair and he was too good to you for him to deserve anything less than your very best.

You had made a promise to Baekhyun and then you made a promise to yourself to follow through on that promise. You would move Heaven and Earth to help him reach his goal because he deserved it and seeing him happy would be enough to get you through anything that came your way.

You were fine.

No really, you were completely fine.

He was moaning.

You sat on the couch beside him with your foot propped up on the coffee table as you carefully applied the second coat of polish to your toenails. You’d become quite the expert at applying polish to your nails during bumpy situations. Sitting next to the man who flailed and squirmed beside you on this sofa was commonplace and simply no big deal.

You could probably do this during an earthquake.

His moaning turned into much louder moaning and he threw himself back onto the arm of the couch dramatically and in protest of the unfairness of your assignment.

“Buuuug,” he whined through his nose, drawing it out like a little kid.

You’d just finished your pinky toe when his foot pushed up against your thigh.

Your aim was quick and you reached over and grabbed his foot by the heel as you pivoted in place.

“Be still,” you said calmly and you held his foot in place as you applied the bright red polish to his big toenail. You often did his toes to match your own because it made his toes look adorable and he wore socks everywhere he went anyway so he didn’t mind what you did to amuse yourself.

You moved quickly, dabbing carefully over each of his nails until they were all painted to match yours. You blew air over them to dry them, being thankful you’d invested in the 60 second polish.

“Buuu-hu-hu-hu-uuug,” he moaned harder, wiggling his hips into the fit he was throwing and closing his eyes to sell you on the absolute anguish he was in. “Bug, I just don't think I can do it. Can we do something else? I don't even know what to do on a date. What if she says no? Oh god, what if she says yes, I’m going to puke. Do you want to see me puke? Because I am going to puke.”

You tapped a hand lightly over the top of his finished foot and pointed to the other one and after a few moments he shifted, giving in to what you asked for right away.

But good lord, he was dramatic. The whining and the moaning intensified just when you thought you couldn't stand another volume increase he raised his voice into a shout and put actual words to his protests. Your ears were already ringing and you could feel your substantial patience — really, you were on a level with a Buddhist monk after two years living with this — beginning to shake.

“I mean, if I asked you to teach me how to swim would you chuck me into the ocean on the first day?”

You forced your focus down on his other foot, getting the polish smooth and perfect with each stroke. He had gone quiet after his question to you and you bit down on your lip as you carefully pondered the words he was saying. The last thing you wanted was to make him so uncomfortable he was unable to go about his daily life. You didn't need this project to become a source of heartache for the man.

You were not an unreasonable person. Perhaps this really had been too big of a step for him to take without having even practiced under the careful instruction of a teacher.

He’d waited in silence for you to answer for only a few seconds and when you didn’t; because you were thinking about it, dammit, he threw his whole head back and his mouth opened up and he wailed into the ceiling above his head at an even more annoying volume than you thought was possible. This was new and shocking. It was deafening. Surely the neighbors would think someone was being butchered in here.

The awful sounds were coming straight from his diaphragm. The man had power in those pipes and he was going to destroy your ear drums in order to get his way. It went on and on, changing from a moaning, groaning large-dog-with-a-bellyache sound into what you imagined it might sound like inside of an echo chamber trapped with a big sad whale, the biggest ones they made, who also happened to be on fire. He was giving you everything he had now. This was full volume and it was horrible.

“Alright!” You shouted over the wretched screaming, “Alright fine! For the love of God, Baekhyun!” You said for emphasis and the incredible relief of silence flooded and cleansed your ear drums that still vibrated from the after effects of all of that noise.

He lifted his head and closed up his mouth instantly and his eyes were wide as he cautiously watched and waited for what you would say next.

“Do you want me to teach you? Do you think you can practice with me so you learn how to do it before you have to do it for real, on your own? That’s what you mean right? You want more instruction before I throw your ass into the ocean?”

His lips were situated down into a fierce pout now and he nodded his head twice; a big ol’ up and down.

You were irked now. No amount of pathetic pouting on that face could pull you back from the edge. Even the slow careful nod of his head was just an obvious attempt at winning you over with cuteness. Well, it wouldn't work. If anyone was capable of annoying someone to death, it was this man right here and he came very close just now.

“New assignment,” you said with your finger raised and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and pushed his top lip forward as he inflated his cheeks into round balloons. He sat up straighter and he waited for you to speak.

“Since I am a woman,” you began with your finger still raised and waving in his direction. His eyes glanced down at it, “you may ask me out on a date, for practice. And if I say yes, we will then—”

Your pointed finger was joined by your whole hand as you opened it up and you waved it through the air twice, a visual representation of cause and effect of such a situation. His eyeballs followed every movement you made, looking at the hand that moved instead of at you, the actual speaker.

His eyes popped up into yours when he registered the words you were saying; the requirements of his new assignment.

“...we will then — well, we will..”

Your words were sticking. He was listening very closely and he’d released the air trapped in his mouth and his lips now hung open as his eyes occasionally followed the waving of your hand in front of his face. It was silly how shifty his focus was when your hand moved in front of him.

“We...will…” he said and his face moved, mirroring the movements of your hand as he tried best to understand the new task you were trying so hard to assign to him, even repeating your words to help you get the next ones out.

“We will go on a date. A real one. A practice date. You will have to take me on a date, Baekhyun. You’ll just have to .. do your best at it.”

“A date? I’ll have to,” he said with a flinching, squinting blink of his eyes, “...do my best?”

“Yes, of course,” you said as you pointed your finger at him again, pulling a swift but deep gasp into your lungs to fight the dizziness you could feel building inside your head, “It’s an assignment. Like school. I will give you a grade on how well you do. If you fail, then it’s over and I’m a terrible teacher and clearly your problems are beyond my area of expertise.”

His polish was dry. This conversation needed to be over because you were weirdly agitated by the wide eyed, deer in the headlights expression stuck on his face.

“I’ll send you some study materials later. You better take this seriously, Byun Baekhyun. This is a real assignment from your real dating teacher.”

The entire situation made you anxious. The desire to flee was very strong. You needed a getaway and you needed it now. You felt a tremble inside that could only be attributed to just how freaked out he had been acting. It was rubbing off on you.

You wanted to make a quick escape but you were now fighting with the many bottles of nail polish scattered across the coffee table; you’d gone through so many of them as you decided on which color to use — they really were just numerous and just everywhere. You grasped at them, trying to grab huge handfuls at one time but your hands couldn't hold as many as you wanted and each attempt sent a bottle or two clattering noisily to the table below. It was really ruining the dramatically cool exit you were trying for.

After quite a bit of noise you felt the warmth of Baekhyun’s arm as he leaned against you and began to help you pick up the bottles; carefully placing each in it’s designated spot in your huge nail polish organizer.

It took a bit of effort for you to turn to look at him and when his fingertips carefully placed the final bottle in the case you clicked the lid closed and finally managed to face him.

His eyes were flighty. His face was flushed and when he met your eyes the smile on his lips was very tense. It looked like a grimace.

You had to be insane to be doing this. Willingly putting yourself into a situation like this with him, a situation that was for instructional purposes only, but a situation nonetheless. Your heart was racing inside of your chest and you briefly wondered if he could hear it with him sitting so close to you.

You swallowed it away, the nerves or the uncertainty or whatever it was that had taken hold of your hands and made them unstable and you turned to look into his face head on.

“Do you understand the assignment?”

Baekhyun filled his lungs with air and straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as his eyes closed up. You recognized the self calming behavior. When he turned to look at you he held a new determination in his eyes and he nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I was always a good student,” he said, “I will do my best with this assignment. I’ll take it seriously, so I can learn from you well.”

You reached forward and patted the back of his hand lightly and offered a reassuring smile.

“Don't be too nervous, okay? Remember it’s for class so you should learn from it. Mistakes are natural and they help us grow. And you won’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I mean it.”

He swallowed and his lips flattened out into a thin line across his face. His head bobbed up and down and he hummed out a response that told you that yes, he did know what was expected of him for the sake of the lesson; for the sake of his future as an adult man who was entering the dating pool in search of the companionship of some lucky lady.

“Also remember, it’s just me. No pressure. Okay, Peanut? I’m here to help you. You could spill an entire cup of iced tea down my dress at dinner and I would still forgive you.”

“No pressure,” he repeated under his breath and when you were finally satisfied that he really understood, you stood, hefting your manicure supplies up with both hands and you stepped away from the living room to return them to your bathroom.

“Do I have a deadline?” He called after you and you turned back with your hand on the doorknob to your room, quietly amused by the seriousness you saw on his face. At the same time, proud of what a good student he was. He was a smart boy, he would do well in anything he was determined to do.

“Ask me out by tomorrow or else Ben might beat you to it.”

You figured a little sense of competition couldn't hurt. And yes, you were still actually speaking regularly with Ben. You were pleasantly surprised with how smart and how funny he turned out to be and he turned out to be a pretty good distraction for the evenings when you’d normally be bored and hanging around in Baekhyun’s room while he played some game on his PC and he’s toss you a remote for the screen that hung up on the wall above his head. You’d play music videos, or cooking videos from YouTube, or some drama or variety shows and he’d play his games and lean far back in his chair watching the screen when exciting things happened on screen.

A few times lately though, when you went into his room you’d find him watching some anime and you just knew he’d want to pay close attention so he could discuss it later with Mia. You’d much rather find someone to entertain you alone so you didn’t have to be ignored or shushed when you interrupted his anime with some stupid question about it, like who is that guy with the crazy eyes and why is he trying to kill everybody. Ben’s conversations were good enough to keep you occupied at least a little bit.

Back in your bedroom you got to work searching for materials for Baekhyun to study. Mostly using helpful YouTube videos with titles such as “how to ask a girl out”, “what to talk about on a first date” and a super helpful online book you found called The Gentleman’s Guide: How to be the Perfect Date. It was just a little outdated with the styles but the book was extensive and ran the gamut from hygiene to manners to confidence and conversation; it even had an entire section called The Art of Subtle Seduction and it made you just a little embarrassed to think of Baekhyun reading this part. He was an adult. He could handle this much. The Dos and Don'ts of a First Date section alone was worth the price you paid for the book.

You wrote up an email with your course materials and sent it off to the man.

Then you sat and waited alone in your bedroom until your level of boredom that in any other situation would be unremarkable, when combined with the built up anticipation inside of you, mixed into a perfect storm of swirling lunacy that was bouncing around inside of you; trying to break free and wreak havoc on something other than your chest walls.

You grabbed your cell phone, slipped by the 2 waiting text messages from Ben that you would absolutely get to later, and opened a new text message to Baekhyun.

‘peanut did you get my email ^^?’

You were sure he did. Of course he did. You wondered if there was anything he found lacking in the pages and pages of super helpful information you sent him. You wondered what he thought about it all and maybe if he needed some guidance or suggestions on how to proceed with the first step of his assignment. Did he need you to come over to his bedroom and watch the videos with him? Would that be too awkward?

Your phone vibrated.

‘yep’

He would ask for help if he needed it, you were certain. He would be fine. This wasn’t real anyway. It wasn’t like there was an actual deadline, not really. You enjoyed talking with Ben but it didn’t seem like he was close to asking you out yet. He had been a bit busy lately and you had been busy as well with work and with helping Baekhyun.

You’d seen from the notification preview on your phone that Ben’s last two messages were asking you something that would take a while to explain and you didn’t want to open them yet in case he’d been expecting you to reply quickly. You needed a bit more time to come up with an answer for the questions he had casually asked about your roommate. You’d tell Ben that Baekhyun was, yes, a guy. And no, it wasn’t awkward living with a man.

You’d get to all that later. Now, you were entirely too keyed up about a problem of your very own creation.

When.

But really...

When?

You could not relax. Because honestly it could happen at any moment. He could come barging into your room, plop his ass down unceremoniously on your bed and say “Hey Doll, hows about you and me go on a hot date this weekend, what about it? Nyeeahhh?” Like some sort of 1940s gangster. You could definitely see Baekhyun doing this accent. You were pretty sure he had a 40s gangster hat in his closet.

You’d decided that you wouldn't give him a hard time about how he asked you. You’d accept right away for the sake of his nerves, if he worked up the courage to ask you at all, then he was on the right track and he deserved an E for effort.

You still had trouble with the anticipation. Not knowing when was the hardest part to handle. You tried your very best to go about your day in as normal a way possible. Sure, you jumped every time you heard a sound, but other than that, it felt like any other day.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room and didn't even come out until you heard the doorbell ring. You peaked your head out of your bedroom door and waited for him to answer it but after a few minutes with no sight of him you stepped out. The doorbell rang a second time and you rushed from your room to answer it before the visitor gave up.

It could have been something important. This building had a doorman so it was usually someone who had a purpose ringing the bell.

The view through the camera monitor showed a run of the mill pizza delivery man, and you remembered that it was Baekhyun’s turn to make dinner tonight. He must have ordered you a pizza so he could hide in his room all night and not have to worry about walking around you in the kitchen and not asking you out on a date.

This was his way of avoiding you for the night.

You had to swallow down the flash of silly disappointment that popped up. You’d assumed correctly that he had already paid for the pizza and you received your cardboard box of loneliness with a polite smile for the weirdly cheerful delivery kid.

You gave a quick glance at the label in the front of the box to check for forbidden toppings just in case he’d forgotten who he was avoiding tonight and put something weird on it like corn and mayo or hot peppers.  

The label had four lines of ingredients listed, the first said ‘xtra cheese’ and each additional one after that said ‘xtra cheese.’ Nothing else, just ‘xtra cheese’ listed four times in succession.

What in the world?

You briefly considered a malfunction of the pizza shop’s label maker, but boy was this thing heavy. Did he sneeze while selecting toppings and accidentally hit the option four times?

You set the monster down on the counter and lifted the lid. It was steaming hot despite the trip in the car and up the elevators to your door and as soon as you opened it you noticed the odd appearance of the inside lid.

There was a message handwritten with black marker inside of the lid.

Your stomach leapt up into your throat as you recognized what this was. The message started with the word Bug.

You had to cover your mouth to get through this.

Bug,

I know this is really, really, really, really cheesy, but will you go out on a date with me this Saturday?

Knock thrice on my door for yes.

-Peanut

P.S. Did I beat Ben?

You had to hang your head to contain it. You wanted to scream. Giggles actually burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were highly amused. Actually reallly fucking impressed and goddammit you felt a genuine flutter of butterflies inside of your stomach. How was he this clever? He had always been very silly and good at thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios to get things done, but wow. When you lifted the lid once more to read his message again your mind spun with the logistics of that man in that bedroom sneakily ordering this thing from a real pizza shop that was probably a block from your home.

Did he call them and explain the situation? Did all of the employees gather around, chanting ‘More cheese! Give the man more cheese!’ As they loaded this pizza up with what looked to be a full inch of melted cheese on top? It compromised the edges of the crust and flowed over the cardboard below. It was absolutely ridiculous and nearly inedible too.

Did they giggle at the pet names you called each other as they selected the employee with the best handwriting to relay his message?

You were buzzing again. This time it was pride. He was brilliant at everything he put his mind to and this was clearly no exception. He would do so well in his life.

You left the kitchen and made your way toward his closed bedroom door. As you came close you heard a very soft thud; wooden door hitting wooden door frame. The movement was hardly noticeable but you could see a slow turn of the doorknob too. He probably thought he was sneaky.

You lifted your closed fist and quietly hit three times against his door and after exactly ten seconds you heard the squeak of his doorknob turning and his bedroom door opened up an inch.

You saw a single brown eyeball peeping at you through the opening.

“I’ll text you the details later,” he whispered and the door closed up again before you could respond.

The details came by text message a day later, just as he promised. It was a Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed and you’d just put the final touches on your data entry work for the day, running it through a spell checker for mistakes as you always did. You’d expected to hear from Ben by now, he said he had something to go straighten out at the bank. He’d taken it well, finding out that your roommate was a man around your age, and he didn’t even ask too many prodding questions about him.

The message was from Baekhyun with the time he would ‘arrive’ to pick you up on Saturday and he gave you sparse details about what he actually had planned; just a quick note at the end that he would be wearing a suit. You figured this was a hint for you to dress up as well.

Was Baekhyun taking you some place fancy? Your curiosity was positively burning and Baekhyun had been acting super weird around you lately.

Whenever you’d come into a room he was already occupying he would make up some excuse why he had to leave it and vanish inside his room to carry on with his highly secretive behavior. Whenever you went into his room he would spin in his chair toward the door with what you were positive was a caught red handed look on his face. It was like you had just caught him watching porn, only you’d caught glimpses of his screen before he quickly hit a keyboard command to clear out the screen and you didn't see a single boob.

After the first time, you’d made it a point to barge into his room often, just to see the surprised look on his face; you did it all for that gasp of air, the frantic fingers of panic on the keyboard, and the trembling hand over his chest as he clutched his pearls. All you caught flashes of were just regular looking websites. Regular text and regular pictures. You saw some blues, you saw some greens. You definitely didn't see the incriminating black and yellow theme of everyone’s favorite adult website. There was nary a penetrative moan to be heard through his speakers. The entire thing brought you great joy. The man was acting so odd and honestly he was getting your hopes up for a fantastically mind blowing date on Saturday. You’d already picked out your dress, heels, and jewelry and had been having a very hard time tolerating the ever so tedious passage of time.

By the time Saturday rolled around you were a wreck of nerves; though you weren’t exactly sure why you were so anxious. It was probably his recent fretting and obsessive preparations that had rubbed off on you. You’d decided to take it easier on him today. He’d obviously been working very hard on this assignment once given the dangling carrot of a good grade to be awarded at the end and if there was one thing you knew about Baekhyun, it was how much he strived to achieve perfection in his academic performance. You’d provided the materials. He’d obviously been studying and go-time was quickly approaching.

You took your time getting ready, soaking in your bathtub to kill some of the dull waiting hours before he was due to pick you up. By the time you were scrubbed, rinsed, shaved, moisturized, plucked, preened, coiffed, and scented to your satisfaction, you had only a half an hour to slip up the straps on the fancy fitted cocktail dress and check your reflection in the full length mirror. It was fitted and had a deep plunging neckline. It accentuated the best parts of your figure and the high slit that landed over your upper thigh showed just enough skin to make you feel sexy.

With your heels you were ready to go; feeling about as pretty as you had in a long while. The silliest little fantasy swam through your head as you spun in front of the mirror and it brought just a little warmth to your cheeks as you allowed it to play out. The idea that he would find you so lovely, so irresistible, that even the iron willed man with his self control like a steel trap would lose himself in the slow blinks of your lashes and drown in the pools of your eyes for just one night.

When you lightly slapped a palm over your cheek, it was to ground yourself. This was fake. Everything that happened tonight would be the result of careful calculations and applications of behaviors modeled in text books that he had studied all week long. It was a date with Baekhyun, but it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of the Baekhyun that you know so well.

You knew he would follow a script. He would perform as a perfect gentleman and you would play along, knowing that when he brought you home you would get a gentle hug and a thanks for sharing your knowledge with him and you would close your bedroom door and he would return to his bedroom door and life as you know it would simply fall back into place as it should remain unchanged for however long it took for you to get back on your feet, perhaps get a place of your own not too far away from him; although this neighborhood was very expensive, you’d settle for one or two subways stops away if it meant you could visit your best friend often and see him living out the life he deserved with someone who was worthy of his love.

Tonight, you will enjoy. But you would not allow your emotions to betray your rational mind. You would enjoy it and then it would be over and Baekhyun would have the skill set to ask out Mia, or whoever else he set his mind on asking out.

Your quiet self assurance was interrupted by two soft knocks on your bedroom door and your hands were trembling as you grabbed your handbag that had your cell phone, a tube of lipstick for touch-ups and a few just in case items you were always taught to carry with you, you know, just in case.

You’d reached the door and swung it open with a beaming smile on your face.

Your date was here. Baekhyun was here. It was Peanut.

A smile that quickly transformed into what you were sure was a gaping opening in your face resembling some aquatic animal and you found yourself gazing upon, frankly, an expertly styled exquisitely handsome real life man, who was wearing Byun Baekhyun’s face and smile.

Despite seeing him standing before you with your own two eyes, your brain was having trouble reconciling the two; your harmless roommate and the man who stood before you wearing a crisp suit jacket that he filled out shockingly well, a fashionable collarless dress shirt that looked like it came from some fancy boutique from downtown, fitted dress slacks that you tried your best not to linger on for too long, and were his shoes Italian? You were pretty sure they were Italian. More than just the clothes, his hair was different. He’d gone and had something done to his hair! Lord, you saw slight waves and a deliberate styling by an expert hand with just a bit of his forehead visible. Oh he looked so lovely with this hair style.

You remembered to close your mouth, but only after the realization dawning on you that he hadn’t said anything to you as you silently admired how beautiful he looked standing in his fancy suit looking like at least a million bucks.

You knew...you knew he was an attractive man. You’d have plenty of glimpses of it again and again, freshly reminded of it during that photo shoot late that night. You’d even known he worked out and had had plenty of chances to ogle the muscles on his arms and chest when he just woke up and would wander out shirtless for a drink of water. You knew that the entire shape of this man was the kind of handsome that you had to make conscious decisions to ignore. You’d forced yourself to look away plenty of times in the past. Still, the Baekhyun who stood here today, the one who had his lips parted as he stared into your eyes now after what you were certain was a head to toe, slow as hell, full body appreciation of all of your preparations to get ready for tonight, this Baekhyun was, for lack of a better word, he was sexy as all hell.

For the first time since you began this project; these lessons in dating, you felt like you might actually be in some sort of trouble.

Baekhyun spoke at last and it was the softest whisper. He said your name. Not Bug, not stupid or dummy or stinky which he called you sometimes even though you knew, you fucking knew you always smelled amazing. You went out of your way to smell great. The sound of your name on his voice softened the shock in your face and you felt a smile pull at your lips.

And so you smiled at him and watched the slow but complete smile that manifested on his pretty face.  

“Hi,” he said with a blink of his bright eyes.

“Hi Baek,” you said. Your heart was racing.

He pivoted on his (Italian!) shoes and extended a bent elbow toward you and you slipped a hand around his arm.

He was doing so well. Each step you took through your shared home felt new. You had a hard time keeping from watching the side of his face and each glance you made was greeted with the light touch of his eyes as he met your eyes with his own.

Moments blurred. He ticked all the boxes, of course. He opened your door, closed it quietly behind you once you were inside. Even helped you with the seatbelt, much to the dismay of your racing heartbeat when he reached over to pull the red strap across you, careful to keep his hands well away from touching any of your actual body as he did it. The true devastation hit you when, all closed up inside the dark car in the silent moments before he started the engine and the intoxicating smell of him reached your nose.

This was a new smell. Baekhyun had gone to the salon, gone shopping for expensive new clothes, and was also wearing what had to be the best smelling cologne you had ever experienced in person.

“You smell really good,” you said without looking at him and your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your handbag to keep your mind working.

“So do you,” he said followed by an inhale that you were certain sounded just a little thready and he was steering the car through lanes and turns of a parking garage to exit the building.

His destination was the kind of fancy dream-like restaurant that you saw only in movies. The sun would be setting soon and you were led to a rooftop terrace with a view over the city and a single table set for two. You followed the pleasantly clean woman and lingering just behind you, Baekhyun silently fell behind one or two steps. A glance behind woke him up from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he closed the distance with two larger steps and a shy smile on his lips.

The waitstaff worked like ninjas. Glasses were refilled as if by magic and course after course of delicious food appeared before you as you watched the sunset over the horizon and when the light faded enough, the soft glow of twinkle lights illuminated the view around you.

The dinner was delicious and the scenery was breathtaking and that alone would have given him full marks for such a lovely evening out, but Byun Baekhyun was proving to be an overachiever as he started to talk to you. He was asking you open-ended questions, pulling conversation easily from you and you found yourself giggling and laughing as he joked in response or told you some funny anecdotes from his childhood that he knew you would love.

By the time dessert arrived you were pretty certain you were drunk despite half of the wine that remained back in your glass. Baekhyun, ever the stickler for vehicle safety had stuck to soft drinks and when he excused himself for the restrooms, you waited patiently under the glowing lights as you daydreamed about the genuine brightness you were certain you saw in his smiles. Had the twinkle in his eyes been just a reflection of this place? Everything about him tonight felt so real. You’d read through the same book he read through and you couldn’t recall him using a single recycled phrase or conversation point during dinner.

Maybe he was just that good of a student.

A noise startled you from behind and you jumped when a single red rose was laid on the table in front of you.

A rose. Baekhyun had brought you back a rose from somewhere; maybe he stole it from the elaborate flower arrangements you passed on the way in.

“Where did you get this?” You mused as you smelled his sweet offering and he shrugged and tugged at the top button of his shirt, undoing it and slipping slim fingers down to undo the second button as well. Your eyes watched the action and weirdly the fragrance from the rose smelled sweeter than the first time you smelled it.

“I just had it,” he said cryptically with another charming and blinding smile.  

“Ready to go? We have one more place to visit.”

The next place he took you was even more magical than the fancy restaurant. The parking lot was nearly empty and when he opened your door he was fussing around with a small bag in the backseat of his car.  He pulled out a pair of black ballet flats and you watched in awe as the man actually kneeled down on the pavement in front of you to carefully slip your heels off of your feet and slip on the comfortable shoes.  

While they did not look anywhere near as sexy as the heels did, you instantly understood the need for a change.

Baekhyun had brought you to an aquarium with what looked like miles and miles of indoor and outdoor paths to walk through with tunnels traveling through the biggest tanks of aquatic sea life you’d ever seen.

You were instantly hypnotized by the deep sea exhibits that seemed to take you for miles and miles below the surface of the ocean where the sea life grew weirder and the lighting grew darker and dimmer the further down you traveled. Here at depths difficult to wrap your brain around the fish and sea creatures have adapted to freezing waters and a bleak existence without any light at all. Many had their own light sources. The bioluminescent exhibits sparkled and twinkled like the stars in the sky out in the country. You saw entire universes all around you.

Baekhyun was as enraptured as you were and spent his time carefully reading each exhibit’s information card out loud as he stared with his mouth open in awe at the different creatures. There were hundreds of different species of fishes, beautiful ones and downright creepy ugly things from the very bottom of the oceans; endangered species too; the sleepy eyes of the sea turtles were your favorites and the impressions Baekhyun made of their swimming faces made you cackle with laughter. Bright lights illuminated meters of corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and you honestly felt like you’d entered another planet when you both walked into the jellyfish halls.

They glowed and flowed, bounced and danced, and moved like a dream. You found yourself hypnotized as you stared at the biggest tank full of them for long enough for Baekhyun to make three circles around waiting for you to follow him out of this room so he could go see the sharks.  

You knew the sharks were coming. You’d had a look at the map. And while you didn't necessarily dislike them, their huge sizes and razor sharp teeth always gave you the heebie-jeebies. The jellies were just so comfortable to look at and so relaxing.

It took some coaxing from Baekhyun, and maybe even a little tiny push at the back of your shoulders to get your feet to move and you lingered a bit long in the dark hallway that connects the two exhibits.

You just felt that maybe, the sharks could wait just a little bit longer to meet you.

He’d noticed right away and you opened up your eyes that you’d closed up for a little relaxing session when you felt the tips of his fingers running along the palm of your hand.

He gripped lightly at first, and then shifted your hand within his and he began walking forward in that dark hallway with you trailing behind him.

Baekhyun touched you sometimes. This was something that he did, on occasion. During a scary movie when you’d jumped too many times, or when you both walked through a crowded place and he didn't want you to wander off, he would occasionally hold your hand.  This wasn’t something new to you.

However your heart was beating hard in your chest and the warmth of his hand coupled with the firmness with which he held you felt so damn nice you were having trouble focusing on anything else except for your own shallow breathing and racing heartbeat — and his hand holding yours.

Sharks swam at a gentle languid pace. Clearly at ease and very well fed here in their homes, there didn't seem to be very much murder and feasting happening at all. Hammerheads, tiger sharks, something uglier than any other creature you had ever seen that came from The Midnight Zone of the deepest parts and with each creature that swam overhead, or beside you, or creeped up from somewhere behind you, Baekhyun would turn to face you and take two or three steps backwards as he pulled you through it, your hand held securely inside of his. He would smile at you that debilitating smile, and tilt his head and call you a scary cat or a big baby and you would laugh and roll your eyes and deny that you were even a little bit scared of anything at all.

All was going well. You were very well taken care of and felt very secure inside this tiny tunnel at the bottom fo the ocean and you’d noticed this time when Baekhyun had turned around to look at you with a bright smile that smile wavered just a touch and his eyes seemed to focus on something that was coming up from behind.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to see what he saw.

Baekhyun moved quickly then, moving both of his hands up to reach for your face he pulled your head forward and moved his own face close to yours. You felt the warmth of his forehead lean against yours for a moment and you could not see around or behind you with his hands placed so carefully on the sides of your head like this.

You knew what it was. It had to be something huge and terrifying, maybe even something with fresh blood still on it’s teeth. A Great White. The giant monster from the movie Jaws that you had watched with him once not realizing just how scary it would be and you spent most of the film curled up under his arm wincing at the horrors you saw on the screen.

“Hey Peanut,” you said softly while looking up close into his eyes. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. His smell, that new smell of his smelled even better this close to his skin.

“Hey LoveBug,” he said with a gentle smile and you knew based on the use of this carefully reserved nickname for emergencies that it was exactly as you had feared. A Great White, chomping on the remains of the cutest crying baby penguin. The fluffiest one with its whole life ahead of it.

Baekhyun was safe though. Baekhyun was warm and he was here to protect you. You would be okay, you knew it.

“Is it gone yet?” You asked after what felt like the average time for a fish that size to swim away and you noticed something. It was a look, just a glance. Baekhyun’s eyes floated a bit and the warm breath you felt coming from him was delivered in quicker puffs through his parted lips.

When he licked his lips, you could not help it, your eyes caught the motion as his tongue ran over his bottom lip and left wetness behind and by the time you realized what you had done — where you had looked — you had already done it, your stubborn eyes had already looked and in your mind a vivid replay was happening. You felt too much. This was too much. This was supposed to be fake. Why did he have to smell so fucking good and why was he so aware of every tiny detail about you he knew when something would overwhelm you and ruin your mood, so he used his own body to shield you from it and protect you. You cautiously pulled your eyes back up only to find him blinking too fast and he was dropping his hands from your face as he took a step back and away from the stifling closeness.

You were dizzy. You felt it all over. Your heart was racing and the warmth you felt traveling through your body sent waves through you. You had to rub lightly over your forearms to smooth out the goosebumps and Baekhyun was no longer facing you, but was staring off into the literal depths of the cold black ocean and you took a while to recover enough to walk by him toward the exit of the aquarium and back into the darkened city streets you knew as the real world.

The walk back to the car was quiet and had an odd flavor about it. You both could feel the end coming. It had been a wonderful date. You’d spent hours, just the two of you talking and laughing and exploring literally new worlds you hadn’t before experienced. You felt a sudden but definite melancholy to see the fancy circles that made up the logo of his car.  

“Hey, you want to take a walk?” Baekhyun’s voice halted your steps and you turned back to see him standing with a hand in his pocket, fidgeting in hidden, likely with the key fob to his car, and a new sort of nervous flush on his cheeks that you hadn’t seen since he first showed up at your bedroom door looking like a dashing Prince Charming ready to sweep you off your feet.

“Sure,” you said, meaning every bit of it and secretly extremely thankful that this evening wasn’t over yet.

The walk was peaceful. It was a bit chilly tonight and you didn’t even resist when you felt the warmth of the coat jacket he placed over your shoulders. You thought you’d become used to the smell of him by now, but clearly you were incapable of ever getting used to his smell.

The streets were mostly empty now that the night had grown stale and you walked side by side passing various touristy shops that had long since closed up for the evening. Ahead you could see a small street side cafe that sold warm teas and coffees and Baekhyun was pulling out his wallet before you even had the chance to look at him with hopeful delight all over your face. He ordered two hot coffees and you danced and celebrated when he handed the first one to you.

It warmed you from the inside and you paid no mind to the smudges of lipstick all over the white lid of your cup. The hot drink made you happy and you could see your breath like a dragon in the chilly night air around you. Each puff made Baekhyun smile and when he’d taken a particularly big drink from his cup he pulled his head back and puffed out three perfectly formed rings of warm air into the color air above his head. The rings grew and then faded quickly but you were so excited to see his trick that you made him do it again and again until he was puffing and out of breath  and laughing too much for any more cool rings to form. This man was full of secrets. Absolutely full of them!

The night was winding on. You could feel the lateness in your limbs and you’d long since finished your drinks and dropped your paper cups into a street side trash can. Your feet, you found were protesting. It wasn’t that they ached or hurt or anything like that. You weren't even that tired. You were just having trouble with the idea of this ending and the night being over.

Everything had to end eventually. You didn't even pout at all when he pulled open your door. You just climbed in and sat down, fastening your own seatbelt this time with a sense of finality looming in your mind along with a wagging finger that quietly scolded you for letting your guard down during this date.

The drive back home was quiet. He didn't even turn on the radio and even though he drove with one hand, he held his other hand firm atop his thigh.

The small touches and stolen glances were over. The date was over. He had done very well. You were thoroughly swept off your feet and his grade would be an A+. You would go back to your room and go to sleep and tomorrow morning when you woke up you’d find him back to his usual antics and maybe, maybe you’d even get him to ask Mia out on a date.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and the familiar landmarks outside your apartment building called you back home. Baekhyun pulled into the parking garage and you did not wait for him to round the hood of the car to reach your door, you simply opened it yourself and pushed through it.

Baekhyun did well. You had given him a task and he’d done it. He deserved all the praise and recognition for a job well done. He’d taken it seriously just as he said he would. This dark mood that had suddenly come over you could not show. You shouldn’t do this to him.

You cared for him too much to ruin this sweet evening.

You loved him too much. This quiet secret usually echoed around inside of your heart and you winced to hear it peaking it’s way up into your running thoughts.

The apartment was dark and you walked through it easily, knowing exactly where you could walk without bumping into anything and he didn’t turn on any lights as he walked closely behind you. He hadn’t said anything to you on the drive home, nor did he speak right now as he walked you back to your bedroom door where he had picked you up.

You turned to face him now. You pushed a smile up to your lips and his face was mostly in the darkness, barely lit with the city lights from the window.  

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Baekhyun. It was perfect. You were perfect. Seriously, you are amazing.”

You leaned before he did and you felt the staggered response from his limbs as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders for the hug.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered against your ear and when you pulled out of the hug, your small smile was not returned. You could see enough of his face to see that he did not smile at you now.

Your hand was on your door and you turned and stepped inside, thankful that you had left your small table lamp on. The room was warm and inviting and you closed the door behind you with a soft click that sounded exactly like clapperboard snapped to signal the end of a movie scene. You could almost hear a director somewhere yelling cut. Everybody clapped for the job well done. All the actors could now go home. It was over.

Your shoes were off. You’d pulled off the earrings and had taken off your necklace and the delicate tennis bracelet’s clasp was so tiny you had to try a few times to get it open so you could take it off.

When you reached up to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulders a tiny sound interrupted you. It was almost like a knocking, but it was so soft you had to listen carefully to hear if it repeated again.

It did not, but you could not shake that feeling that it had happened and out of genuine curiosity you walked across your bedroom and pulled your bedroom door open.

Someone was there; Baekhyun was there, standing in nearly the exact same position as he had been, wearing the same clothes. The only difference was the sight mess to his hair and the definite pink shade you saw on his face even in the dim lighting from the windows.

“Peanut?” You couldn’t imagine what this was. He was finished. The assignment was finished and he had done perfectly, you’d said so already...but, his eyes. You caught that same look that you’d seen on him many times before. It was a look of hard determination that propelled him forward when he dove into some new and difficult project he had to master. If you had to give it a name, you’d call it his passion. The passion he had inside of him to do things right. To be perfect.

“I said I would take it seriously,” he said in a well controlled voice and you shook your head, not understanding what he meant. Did he have some regrets about how the night went? Did he feel that he had somehow failed to live up to the requirements you’d set forth for him as his teacher?

“The date, I told you I would.” He wasn't clarifying anything with his words.

It was then that he moved.

His hands were up and Baekhyun took a step closer to where you stood confused and surprised at the threshold of your bedroom door. He reached for you with both hands and you felt the warmth of his palms on your cheeks at the same time as you felt the exhale from his parted lips against your mouth. It happened in a single moment. His lips connected with yours and you gasped in a surprised breath. Baekhyun kissed you. His lips were on yours and he held your face tightly between both of his hands as he did it. This was it. This was his goodnight kiss at your front door. This was the end of the date.

You could just make out the ultra up close view of him, his fluffed up hair, the smoothness of his forehead, his eyes closed up tight and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks and it was all a big blur and so you closed your eyes and your heart raged noisily inside of your chest with the sudden need you felt for this to happen.

Your own lips parted and you felt the tilt of his head as his bottom lip pushed out slipping perfectly between your own and you could not stop it. You could not control the tightness with which your hands clung to the cotton of his dress shirt and pulled him toward you. You could not contain the way his tongue brushed lightly against your own and the way you reacted to it. The light moan that escaped from your throat and bounced around inside of his mouth. The light draw you felt on your lip as he pulled lightly and sucked on your lip as he did it. The final pull was him pulling away.

He ended the kiss with a step backward and a drop of his hands from your face.

He had kissed you and you most definitely had kissed him back. The labored breathing you struggled to contain did nothing for the dizziness.  

“Goodnight,” he said with a roughness on his voice; plus the blown out look in his eyes was telling you of many forbidden things that he was running from now. Things that even he knew were a very bad idea.

This had been fake. This was supposed to be a lesson.

You stood at your doorway and watched him disappear into his bedroom and after standing frozen in your doorway you had no choice but to return to the quiet glowing comfort of your own bedroom and close your door too.

Your hands were shaking and you felt the trembling all over you as you looked around at the place you called home. The place you loved more than anything in the world except for maybe that man who was likely facing a very similar struggle behind his own closed bedroom door.

The only difference was just how much you had to lose if you gave in.

You loved him. You knew it deep down inside of your soul. It had been buried for so long deep in the frozen depths of your ocean that you thought it would never surface and consume you, yet now you knew you’d been a fool.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob

[clockwaysarts]

2021 was a year.

I hit a point of horrible burnout that, despite quitting a job that was destroying me, I’m still recovering from. I entered this year without my best friend by my side because she wouldn’t respect my boundaries and I couldn’t let her own destruction destroy me. My health has been very poor all year; I’ve spent significantly more of it with a migraine than not due to weather and stress. I expect to spend tomorrow in a ball of pain as the temp drops 50 degrees in a matter of hours.

But I’ve also taken the first steps to getting better by quitting that job and trying to give myself time to rest. I’ve made wonderful new friends. I have a new cat.

I didn’t get to where I wanted to be- I didn’t get my store back up and deal with shipping things or get xmas sales up... but also I reached my mini goal of making enough in commissions to pay for my health insurance. And that’s a huge thing for only a few months of trying to get this all together. I made pieces this year that I’m so proud of. I got decent at drawing people for maybe the first time ever. I got to enjoy painting and rendering and casting again.

I’m still not okay- it would be foolish to pretend otherwise. I still have a long way to go in the new year and a lot of to figure out. But I feel I have a chance to get there.

I have so much in the new year that I want to make and create and learn and I hope that even if I don’t manage all of it, I can keep finding my way to a brighter place. Thank you so much everyone here who supports my work with likes and reblogs and kind comments. And thank you so much everyone who supports me through tips or commissions or are waiting for my resin to go on sale again!

All of you help make this all possible and I’m going to work to keep getting there! So from this slightly over wound Clock to you- Happy New Years. May it find all of us working our way to something kinder, brighter, and better.

[wyrmy-fics]

❃ Drawing Subject ❃

Kaeya X Albedo fic.

-

Hello again! Finally picking back up with writing after a well deserved hiatus. This was written over the course of a month or two so it’s not entirely consistent and doesn’t have a proper ending to it, but I just wanted to write about these two captains realizing how pretty they are…. 🤲 (will edit this over time probably)

Reblogs and requests are appreciated. :)

Includes: Kaeya, Albedo.

Warnings -> N/A

Type: Character ship fanfic.

Intro -

"What is this?" The tune of the calvary captains voice caught Albedo's attention, causing the latter to set down a pair of vials in response. A sheet of paper hung from between Kaeya's fingertips along with a playful grin stretched out.

"That's..." Albedo started, trying to find the proper explanation in this situation. The paper displayed a doodle with only three strokes etched in; a circle for a head, a long string across the circle... And an eyepatch attached. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Klee had requested it. I hadn't the time or proper reference to do much more."

A quiet hum filled the awkwardness in the room as Kaeya examined over the drawing once more. It left the alchemist wondering how it had come into their conversation, much less Kaeya's possession, but the train of thought was soon interrupted.

"You could have at least added the hair."

"That's your concern—?"

"It's an important detail."

"As I said, I didn't have a proper reference to grab such details. Usually I would work with my subject at hand, but—"

"Oh?" This new information peaked Kaeya's curiosity as if a lightbulb illuminated above his head. Setting the paper down to fold his arms across his chest, the captain strode closer. "Then, if you had your subject with you, would you try it again?"

The question had momentarily silenced Albedo while it processed in his mind. It was common to see such a reaction from the other over the simplest things, mostly resulting in some sort of teasing, but never for his drawings. He turned his body to mirror Kaeya's stance, "I suppose I would."

"Great. I'll be free in my office in the next hour or so. Don't keep me waiting too long, will you?"

.

.

.

"All I have to do is sit here, yes?"

"If you please."

The cavalry office wasn't the biggest room in the Favonius Headquarters, but without much of a cavalry to captain, the space was wide enough for one person to do as they please. Any company was welcome to fill in the empty spots and distract him from the agonizing hours of paperwork. Taking advantage of this, Albedo situated an area for him to work.

It was a sight to see; the couch was strategically positioned away from it's usual place against the wall and right in front stood a tall easle. Any type of work to such length should be handled with care, Albedo thought, much to the surprise of the other.

"I didn't know such a request would have struck something in you, Chief Alchemist. I can't say I'm complaining, though," Kaeya said, stepping in front of the couch into position.

The artist in question hadn't looked up from his preparations just yet. Setting the sketchbook in it's place along with the few charcoal pencils, he replied, "Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain, but there's no harm in taking such a thing seriously."

"Nothing to correct here," An amused huff followed his reply.

Everything was set and ready to begin - however, there was one last adjustment to be made first. Finally looking up from the easle with his chin pinched, Albedo spoke up, "If you don't mind, could you remove your boa?"

Kaeya raised an eyebrow, "You're asking me to undress now? If I had known it was that type of artwork, I would have prepared myself a little more." His teasing only resulted in a head shake of the other.

"No, that's not it... I'd like to remove any distractions from your face. But you're welcome to keep it on if you feel more comfortable that way."

That's what intrigued him the most about Albedo - no matter how much the captain tried, there was no way to completely throw the other off guard. It kept things interesting to find himself at a loss for how to gain back the upper hand. Silently accepting the favor, Kaeya reached up to unclip the feathery boa from his shoulder, bringing his cape along with it.

Without such an accessory shaping his face, it was clear to see there wasn't much else to his design. An approved nod from Albedo set them both back into their previous rhythm now that he could focus on each detail - at least in more than three strokes.

Kaeya sat himself down onto the couch and crossed his legs, draping an arm over the back of the frame to give himself a pose that could show as much as possible. "How is this?"

"That's fine," Albedo replied, turning his view back to the easle, "Make sure not to move too much."

The initial sketching process was the slowest part of this whole ordeal. Albedo's primary focus was placing in the guidelines and rough movements in order to capture the pose Kaeya was placed and work from there. Though the room fell completely quiet aside from the paper, it was comfortable between the two.

And then, it began. Detail by detail began to form over the sketch and the charcoal pencil would flip to the rubber end occasionally, letting Albedo render in what was needed. His eyes would dart back and forth from his subject and the piece so that nothing was left untouched; his gaze falling into a more serious and concentrated stare.

From Kaeya's point of view, it was a sight worth remembering. Not once had he seen the Chief Alchemist so willing, so vulnerable. Every little habit had made it's way to the surface as the captain watched with care. The way Albedo would tap the pencil on his chin while thinking of how to properly execute certain details, or the way he would hum to himself in approval after perfecting it. His mouth would twist and turn in different ways as he lost himself in the process, allowing Kaeya's own to turn upright into a small smile.

On the other hand, Albedo couldn't help but use this opportunity to completely take in the sight of the other. What fascinated him the most about the world was the fact he never properly fit in amongst other humans, since he himself was not one. The alchemists goal was to find answers and construct creations during his time in Mondstat, for the sole purpose of his master and to ease his own curiosity.

However, as anyone could have guessed, Kaeya also does not fit in with the other humans of Mond. He was human at the least, but far different than any of the other captains or civillians. What could possibly be under that eyepatch, Albedo wondered as he filled in the gold designs along the leather covering. What kind of secrets hide behind that smile, what creatures have those gloved hands fought?

And in sync, they both recognized each others beauty enveloped in vulnerability. It was the only time to notice the way their skin contrasted each others from pale to tan, forming over their bones and muscles perfectly. The braided hair that was meticulously cared for with utmost patience somehow matched the long and messy blue draped over the couch.

Was this really a request for an artist, or simply two curious individuals wanting a closer look?

The occasional small talk would happen during their session, but the majority of their time together remained in each others quiet company. As it slowly came to a close, the moments they shared were kept confidential between the two. They weren’t ashamed or forced to stay hushed about the events that took place, but there wasn’t a need to flaunt either.

Though Master Jean tends to ask where the framed drawing on Kaeya's desk came from, to which he simply responds, "It was a gift."

-

Thank you for reading! Not too happy with the ending and can make a part 2 if requested…? :) 💙

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 2

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your  family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 5k chapters: 2/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

hey read this: im desperately hoping this lives up to the standards the first chapter apparently set my dudes, fingers crossed i don’t lose any of you with this one 🤞🤞 also before we get started i just wanna let yall know i am very firmly set in my decisions for the designations and i do not apologize lmao 🤙 

You had been manhandled often enough in your life but fuck this time in particular. Even if you’d managed to pass as a beta for more than a decade, you weren’t strong and couldn’t stand your ground in the face of an alpha three times your size. Steve had sucked his fingers clean and easily hefted you up into his arms, following Bruce back into the cabin and down into the basement—you hadn’t been allowed to clean the basement, it was one of the off-limits areas that were noted in your many instructions. If a door is locked, leave it alone. No cleaning is necessary in the basement, garage, or third floor. Wash the linens with a scent free detergent. Make sure the refrigerator is properly scrubbed out.

He’d left you on a metal countertop with instructions to be good for Bruce. You weren’t sure what that entailed but as soon as the blond left the room, your mind started to race. There was no way you could get away from Steve, Sam you could potentially outrun, but Bruce? Being left alone with the beta was the best thing they could’ve done for you. You could get away from Bruce.

“Have you been to see a doctor recently?” His voice was gentle, intended to be soothing as he came to stand in front of you. "Any check-ups, clinic visits?”

You knew there was blood drying on your cracked lips, cutting a jarring path down your throat. The taste was still in your mouth, you’d gouged your tongue and it was still actively bleeding. With that in mind you made direct eye contact with the beta before letting the mouthful spill over your bottom lip and drip down your front, hoping the gore would help emphasize your opinions on the situation.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset—”

“Bruce, why is she bleeding?” It was like getting punched in the face by alpha pheromones the moment the door to the room opened again and a much younger alpha stepped through with a practically panicked expression.

Before you or Bruce could respond you’d been swept up in the alpha’s arms. He was a few years younger than you, early twenties probably and being manhandled by a fetus was particularly bothersome. His scent kept you still for a few seconds before you started squirming, making a beta-like snarl while he corralled your limbs.

“Here Pete, can you sit with her over here? We need a blood draw and full work up, her natural hormones have probably been devastated by the chemicals in the suppressants she was taking,” Bruce gestured for the alpha to carry you to a metal table, likely meant to be used for some sort of experiments if the rest of the room was anything to judge by. "All of her reproductive organs could’ve been affected, I’ll need to do a pelvic exam. We’ll run an STD panel and—”

“No! I don’t consent!” Your voice came out as a growl, the best one you could manage. "This is false imprisonment! Let go of me you fucking knothead! This is illegal!”

The alpha started to purr immediately and you found yourself rendered boneless under the onslaught. It was startling—you’d forgotten how it felt, how calm and safe it made you feel. Alpha purrs were meant to soothe and comfort, the tones perfectly adjusted to the omega ear. They also caused a completely involuntary reaction in omegas, the same as all other alpha sounds. You had no choice but to feel relaxed, the white noise of a purr jumbling your thoughts.

Bruce smiled down at you, hand running over the top of your head where it rested against the alpha’s chest. "It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you, I just want to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Isn’t that better baby?�� The alpha sat back on the table and pulled you to sit between his legs, tucked close to his chest. “And unless you have a guardian alpha, it’s not illegal. We’re doing our civic duty, taking care of an omega in unsafe conditions.”

The worst part was that you couldn’t fight it; you couldn’t find your way out of the calm static the purr filled your brain with. Even when Bruce started taking multiple vials of blood from your left arm, when he opened your mouth to check the damage to your tongue, when they started undressing you, you couldn’t fight. It was a hazy sort of half thought, that you wanted them to stop. It must’ve been apparent in your eyes, that you were trying to work your way out of the purr’s effects.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, you’re alright,” Bruce murmured quietly as his hands pressed the glands in your neck, fingers brushing gently against the scent gland in particular. "No swelling in your thyroid or mating nodes, that’s good. Suppressants can really cause problems in your hormone glands; the blood tests will tell us for sure but it looks like you might’ve dodged the worst of it if nothing’s enflamed. How long have you been on suppressants?”

Answering was the last thing on your mind, your eyes slowly roving over the room instead. It was some sort of lab set up, tons of machines and parts of machines, technology you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Bruce had been taking things from one particular cabinet that seemed to hold medical supplies, the rest of the place resembling a robotics factory or some kind of high-tech research and development lab. The doors had swished open automatically when Steve brought you in and when the new alpha came through. Who had automatic doors in a vacation home?

“Should I stop?” The alpha questioned the doctor, chest continuing to rumble. “I might be making her too calm I guess.”

“No, just keep doing what you’re doing Peter,” Bruce sighed slightly. "There’s too much coherence in her eyes as it is, I don’t know if the purr affects her as much as it should. I’m worried that if you weren’t enhanced it wouldn’t work at all. Look at me sweetie, can you focus on face?”

His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head carefully while watching your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to focus on his face; you couldn’t imagine the purr affecting you more than it already was and dreaded the idea that it could be worse. What did enhanced mean? Like the superheroes you’d been hearing about? You didn’t keep up on current events, unless they were Omega's Rights related.

“I’m sure it’s a result of the beta chemicals dampening her omega instincts,” Peter shifted you slightly as Bruce exchanged his gloves for a new pair. "Once her body starts producing hormones on its own again she should revert back to common responses to alpha stimuli.”

“You’re probably right, we’ll know for sure once I get the blood results,” Bruce gestured for Peter to sit up more, bringing your limp body with him. “I’m going to do a breast exam and a pelvic exam and we’re done. There are some other tests I want to run but I don’t have the equipment on hand so they’ll have to wait until Tony manages to get here. Peter, can you help move her arms?”

You felt like you almost managed to swim through the purr, rage fueling you as hands manipulated your breasts. The exam itself was clinical, professional even—or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been cooing at you the whole time, how good you were being, how sweet you were, how pretty your breasts were. Peter had hummed in agreement along with the doctor, his nose trailing up and down your neck. Your hands clenched into fists and you could feel Peter’s grip on your wrists shift with the movement.

“Calm down, baby,” the alpha’s voice cooed gently against the side of your head, lips pressing into your hair as Bruce shifted away and went for the medical cabinet again. "This is important. Suppressants could’ve caused tons of problems, cancerous growths in sexual organs or secondary sex characteristics is very common.”

Death would be a reprieve. The same thought that crossed your mind any time you considered the potential effects of suppressants. A reprieve from the hiding, the exhaustion, living out of your car or a tent, eating garbage because it was all you could afford—from the constant threat of having your autonomy ripped from your hands.

You relaxed your fists until you felt his grip loosen again, even if only slightly. Your only chance would be to rely on surprise and your speed, there was no other way you’d be able to get away. Forcing your body to relax was a trial though, adrenaline was starting to course through you the more you became used to the effects of the purr. Your scent was still massively dampened by the suppressants, Peter likely wouldn’t be able to smell the shift from fear to anticipation. You bit down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on your tongue, reigniting both the pain and blood flow.

“Alright, last part, we’re almost done and then we’ll get you comfortable, okay?” Bruce was wearing new gloves again, a bottle in hand as he walked back over. "Have you had a pelvic exam before?”

You waited until he was close enough and performed what seemed to be your go to act of defiance: spitting blood directly in his face. He reared back with a short curse, Peter immediately releasing your wrists—his goal was likely to readjust you in his lap, to gain a better hold, but you were fast, faster than an alpha (always faster than alphas, it was all you had). You’d slipped from his lap and darted for the automatic doors before either of them could respond. Running through the woods naked was the lesser evil.

Steel bands. You should’ve noticed, the doors opened too soon for them to be reacting to your presence, you were so focused on getting through. But the moment you did, it felt like steel bands wrapped around your torso, pinning your arms.

The alpha’s scent was like Steve’s—the moment your brain registered it the world went hazy. You were floating, body going limp for a precious few seconds that the alpha used to sweep you into his arms and stalk further into the room. Your senses came back just in time for you to be deposited back into Peter’s lap on the table, a massive blond alpha coming into view for the first time. Your gaze was immediately stuck on his, the heterochromatic eyes nearly hypnotizing. Fighting the daze he put you in was overwhelming, especially when a wide smile split his lips and his cheeks dimpled. One massive hand reached out, almost engulfing the entire lower half of your face.

“Hello little love.” Were alphas always as insanely massive as this one and Steve, or had you just stumbled across literally your worst nightmare? “They told me you’re a flighty thing, I suppose I arrived just in time, hm? Are you going to spit blood in my face as well? It seems to be your calling card.”

The look on your face must’ve betrayed the fact that you were really, really considering it. You had a mouthful of blood and nowhere to put it but his face, honestly. Instead you used the fact that Peter was mostly propping you up to lean over the edge of the table and proceeded to open your mouth, spilling blood down onto the alpha’s shoes nice white shoes.

“I wouldn’t challenge her,” Bruce’s voice drew your attention to where he was using a towel to wipe blood off his glasses, a wry smile and affection clear on his face. "She’s putting a lot of effort into being belligerent.”

The blond alpha rumbled with a grin, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "It’s been a stressful day for her, there’s nothing she can do that will cause any persisting damage anyway. Let her have her little rebellions.”

You wanted to be furious—what kind of asshole looked a person dead in the eyes and called their attempts to escape false imprisonment little rebellions?—but Peter seemed to have realized where your train of thought had gone because he started purring immediately. Your spine went boneless, laying you flat against his chest.

“Can you lean up against the wall with her?” Bruce directed the younger alpha to shift until both of your legs were dangling over the edge, Peter’s back to the wall the table sat against. “You’re going to need to hold her in place, even while you purr. Alright sweetie, let’s get this out of the way. Thor, will you hold her leg please?”

The sound you made was an accident. Desperation and humiliation were crawling up your spine with astounding speed, even with Peter’s purr going like a motorboat and the sound  was making it too hard to think through your instincts. Omega cries were a deliberate counterpart to the noises alphas made; whines and cries and hisses, perfectly pitched to make an alpha’s hindbrain stand at attention. The sound you made was a sharp, chirping whine—distress, distress, distress, help me, help me help m—

“Oh little love,” Thor’s voice had dropped several registers and he gently shuffled Bruce to the side so he could stand in front of you, slipping as close to the table as possible and tugging your legs to rest on either side of his hips and gently running his hands over your skin. “Let’s get you taken care of, you need rest.”

The pheromones he was putting out were meant to calm but you immediately opened your mouth, using the overwhelming scent of your own blood to drown them out. The alpha sighed and stepped aside again, taking your leg with him and spreading your thigh to rest over Peter’s leg with your foot planted on the table. A whine rose in your throat again but you locked it down, instead biting down on your tongue yet again. It was as grounding as it was painful, the tang of it souring your stomach.

It was your last coherent thought, that you were starting to feel nauseous from all of the blood you'd swallowed. Thor began to purr just after that and the sound was entirely devastating, bone deep and you went completely limp, your head falling to the side against Peter’s chest and your shoulders dropping. This is what acid felt like, you were pretty sure.

Your eyes lazily followed Bruce’s path as the doctor took his place between your legs again, lifting the other into a matching position. Some part of you was fully aware of how gut wrenching this was; completely naked and spread wide in front of two alphas and a beta, a situation you’d rather kill yourself than be in, but your brain couldn’t follow any emotional tethers while Thor purred. The doctor was speaking, you could feel his hands manipulating your vulva, but you couldn’t understand anything coming out of his mouth.

Peter’s hand came to your chin and tilted your head back until you could see him, smiling down at you. His mouth moved, your eyes almost able to track the movement of his lips enough to read them but your brain gave up halfway through. The two alphas were chuckling over something but you were distracted by the discomfort of something being inserted into your vagina. A sharp yip escaped your lips, your body still completely boneless as your eyes rolled down.

“It’s a speculum, sweetie, I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable,” it sounded like Bruce was talking underwater and you could almost feel his breath on your thigh, your mind irritatingly unable to think beyond the question 'who just keeps a fucking speculum lying around?' "Just a few more seconds while I get a pap smear.”

More discomfort came before the instrument was removed, another yip leading Peter to purr along side Thor. The rest of the exam was a blur, slippery fingers and pressure and foreign sensations. You could barely think, let alone realize that Bruce was finishing up the manual exam, when your eyes noticed movement behind them. You couldn’t really make out anything, nothing would focus, but you assumed it was Steve and Sam.

There were more voices but you couldn’t hear anything for an indeterminate amount of time. It wasn’t until Thor stopped purring again that you were able to start regaining your senses, as much as the continuous rumbling in Peter’s chest would allow. The difference between the sounds the two alphas produced was marked by your sudden ability to focus your eyes, to concentrate on voices, in the way your muscular control was slowly returning.

You were almost glad the young alpha was still purring—it meant that the spike of terror that tried to shoot through you was somewhat dulled, enough that it wouldn’t show in your scent. Sam and Steve had indeed come in, accompanied by a young woman with long auburn hair and porcelain skin, a beta from the scent. As soon as she made eye contact with you she smiled vibrantly, slipping forward and sneaking between your still spread thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, long fingers stroking absently against your neck as she leaned in, forcing your back tighter against Peter’s chest. "Will you let me see your trauma my love?”

Some sort of red miasma filled your vision, a fog you quickly realized was coming from her hands—and realization slammed into you like a freight train. You seen that before, in passing. And then the recognition made you nauseous—Thor. You didn’t keep up with current events, but certain names you couldn’t miss. Thor, Tony Stark, Captain America. Your eyes flashed to the blond man standing towards the back of the room; Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Desperation shot through your body like you’d been tazed. Your foot shot out of Thor’s hold, the alpha hadn’t been putting any actual effort into holding you still since you’d been so dazed, and connected with the woman’s chest to send her reeling. Before anyone else could respond, your throat rasped for several seconds before a warbling shriek escaped. The four alphas in the vicinity reacted like they’d been shot; Thor and Steve both stumbled back, and Sam’s knees practically gave out, sending him careening into the wall. Behind you, Peter, far too close to the source, immediately went limp.

There were several distress calls an omega could make. Most of the time, they were whines or chirps, noises meant to draw attention from packmates. They were small, careful sounds—nothing loud enough to attract attention from a foreign alpha or delta. Omegas were quarry to be stolen, after all, which was precisely why they had one, singular method of defending themselves against their biggest biological threat and that was a shriek.

When in close proximity, the sound was loud enough and tuned just so to daze an alpha’s hindbrain. The evolutionary explanation was that a loud shriek meant that an omega being confronted by an aggressive alpha could both temporarily stun their attacker and summon assistance—alphas or deltas, far enough away that the negative effects were nullified but within proximity to hear that an omega was in danger. The assumption being, of course, that an omega who shrieked was in danger from a stranger, not a packmate.

It only worked for a very short time though, any alpha or delta in the area would immediately converge on the omega’s location and deal with the problem—it was the reason you hadn’t used it outside. There was no reason for the effects to last when it summoned immediate assistance, though, and that meant you needed to move. You slid off the table, bare feet slapping tile as you just barely managed to dodge Bruce’s grasp. The woman, the witch from the news, was on the floor clutching her sternum.

The stairs were a blur, so was the foyer and the driveway. You hesitated at your car for all of ten seconds before running for the forest; your keys were in the pocket of your jeans, back down in the basement. Abandoning all of your possessions hurt somewhere deep in your heart but there wasn’t any time for sentiment. You had to get away, quickly.

Luckily the woods had become your home a long time ago. You moved between the trees silently, feet so heavily calloused from constantly going barefoot that you didn’t even notice the twigs and sharp stones digging into your flesh. Your brain shot into overtime. You needed to steal clothes, then cash. You’d lived with nothing for years, you could do it again for however long you needed to. The only thing you really needed was suppressants; everything else was a luxury.

You assumed they were behind you, you’d been running for a good three minutes. The straight path meant they could follow you easier but the goal had to be the maximum distance possible rather than the most strategic pattern. Your only advantage was being fast and you had no choice but to rely on it, especially since your hindbrain was wailing with every step you took. The suppressants were the only reason you could do it at all, the trade off for quieting those damn instincts being a tolerable mildness of character that did not appreciate the constant, incessant shriek of your baser self while you were trying to focus. 

All you had to do was keep quiet until you could find one of the creeks running through the forest—so close to Lake Superior there was water everywhere. You would run through the creek in several different places, to mask your scent and make it difficult to follow. It wouldn’t be hard to find a hunting blind or shack, a hole in the ground was better than going back there. The moment your eyes caught on running water you dove into it, covering yourself with mud before jumping back up to continue running.  

Captain America was super fast and you’d bet the rest of them were similar if not the same and you needed more distance. Somewhere in the back of your mind, prey behavior was setting in. Natural selection had driven your existence, you were the result of thousands of years of evolution, and the life you’d lived meant you were far more adapted to being hunted than most omegas. You were vulnerable but not helpless and as you coated yourself in more mud from a different part of the creek, chemosensory instincts started rattling through you.  

They were coming. Your scent was inhibited by the suppressant’s and that made it harder for them to follow you but they were doing their best. Combined with the water and the mud, your scent was very difficult to pin down, even for a super soldier. You contemplated climbing a tree to hide, but the insane memory of how keen the noses of the pack following you were spurred you on. You kept running, covering yourself in mud two more times, before finding a tree with a massive tangle of roots at the bottom. Fighting whatever creature had made a home down there was worth it—it went deep, was heavily covered by underbrush and detritus from the trees, but most importantly it was surrounded by wild bergamot in full bloom.  

It smelled lovely, spicy and floral with a citrusy overtone. You crawled through the dirt, wiggling between the roots and carefully avoiding crushing any plants or branches that could give you away. Whatever lived in there was out, likely foraging, and you took the creature’s absence to your advantage and pressed as far back into the hole as possible.  

You weren’t tired, despite the long, exhausting day and the fucking trauma. Another small grace that adaption had provided was that once an omega began producing adrenaline, sleep became unnecessary—it was actually considered a very unenviable omega trait in the general population, but you’d found it’s uses worth the unpleasant side effects. Your heart would continue to race for the next several hours, your pupils wouldn’t return to normal for potentially days and your blood sugar had sky rocketed and that was going to be a nightmare for how ever long it lasted. 

The waiting was going to hurt—there was nothing to pass the time and you had to actively focus on not being terrified or your omega scent could seep through, oh, what was it now? Five coats of mud from the creek, a significant amount of bergamot, and fifteen years of whatever the fuck suppressants did to your scent over time.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that you heard them. Stealth wasn’t their objective, that was clear from the amount of noise they made. You could hear Steve and Peter calling your name, although you didn’t know how they knew it. Thor was speaking, his tone low but certainly not quiet. They weren’t even moving that fast, walking almost leisurely.

“She’ll need to bathe and eat. Clint and Natasha are finishing up in New York. Steve, have you heard from Tony or Bucky? Carol?”  

“Tony’s wrapping up, should be flying over pretty soon. Carol and Bucky were on their way up but I gave them a list of things to grab while they’re going through the bigger cities. Shouldn’t be too much longer for them either though.” 

Steve and Thor were different than Sam or Peter. You couldn’t pin down exactly what had set your teeth on edge, but the scent the two blond alphas gave off was different. Their pheromones were worse, more infectious. Eye contact with Steve had made your hindbrain beg to go to him, regardless of the rationality you could usually manage thanks to the suppressants. You could remember the feel of Thor’s hand on like it was seared into your skin instead, you wanted him to never not be touching you ever again—

If you could’ve slapped yourself without making noise you would’ve. The stupid omega in your brain, that dumb, easy cunt was going to get you killed. You sealed your lips, clenched your teeth and tucked your hands under your bent knees. Night was starting to fall to your benefit, the shadows were getting darker. You were so far back they would have to crouch down and crawl half way in to see you.

If you could keep your wits until they passed you could double back, trying to find your keys would be a wash but you could grab clothes from the back of your ancient Tahoe. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the basement, but you didn’t think it was long enough for them to have gone through your things.

“Could she have gotten this far?” You held your breath as Sam stopped far too close to your hiding place for comfort.

“Omegas are fast and she seemed faster than most,” Bruce answered. “We’ll know for sure once her blood work comes back, but from her physiology I’d say she presents as a classical omega. She’s probably the first in her family in a long, long time. To have a scream that loud in this day and age? The omega gene must’ve been skipped so long that there was no chance for it to adapt to modern omega qualities.”

“There’ve been some studies suggesting that the classical omega attributes are making a come back in the general population,” Peter’s voice came from much farther away. "They haven’t been peer reviewed enough yet and they haven’t been replicated en masse because they don’t have enough subjects, alphas aren’t exactly thrilled to have their omegas studied, but—”

“The lack of data aside, I assume there’s a correlation between the alphas willing to allow their omegas to participate and the behavior of the omega in question. Do you think—”

“Focus, Bruce,” Steve’s voice was light with affection. "The point is that yes, she could’ve gotten this far or farther. The way she keeps running into the creek is messing up the footprints and—”

Their voices faded as they continued the same linear path you’d been running earlier. The fact that they didn’t even sound a little concerned that you could get away was both insulting and unnerving. You didn’t need alphas having that kind of confidence regarding your behavior—and why weren’t they moving any faster? The paranoia was immediate and overwhelming, what did they know about that you didn’t? Something they assumed would hinder you farther along in the woods? Something they were planning for when they found you? When.

You forced yourself to count slowly to six hundred, waiting what you hoped was a full ten minutes before silently crawling out of your hide. Their scents were everywhere, you could smell where Sam had been standing almost directly over the opening in the roots. They were still too close for comfort and you turned, running back through the forest. Your feet were starting to feel sore, usually you’d at least watch where you stepped but there just wasn’t time—you had to get away before they could enact their plans.

The clearing the cabin sat in was coming up and you forced yourself to slow as you approached the tree line, keeping a careful eye out for the beta woman. You couldn’t remember what her call sign was, something to do with witches, and you definitely didn’t want her using that red magic stuff on your head.

The extra seconds of waiting paid off, watching her pace the porch for a few moments before her phone rang. She answered, walking inside and closing the doors behind her. You didn’t wait an extra second, darting across the clearing to where you car was sitting in the driveway with the trunk popped. They must’ve started going through your things but stopped part of the way through.

You could see one of your go bags though, squished between your rolled up sleeping bag and tent. The straps of the bag squeaked with how hard you yanked it out, hesitating slightly—instinct told you to leave the sleeping bag, but you’d grown used to the luxury of it and leaving the stupid thing behind made you decidedly sad. You tossed the straps of the go bag over your shoulder and turned away, knowing it would slow you down and—

There was an Iron Man suit standing directly behind you, gauntlets rested on the hips and the head cocked to the side. You froze, as if staying still could prevent it from noticing you. Fuck, you hoped there wasn’t a man in there. A stupid thought, you considered as you stared silently, trying to decide if there was any way out. Hope was a joke at this point but you didn’t have anything else.

“Hi princess,” it was a distinctly human voice, if filtered. "Hope I didn’t miss too much of the fun.”

  content warning: nonconsensual medical procedures, general noncon touching/assault.

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

[clotpole-art]

Retrospective: Illustrated Merlin Alphabet Challenge

Finally finished the Merlin Alphabet Challenge, so here's the artist notes no one asked for! See below the cut for comments on each piece by order of creation. Be warned folks, it's a long post.

Before we begin: credit to @merlin-gifs for the challenge, which can be found here. It's awesome, go do it.

First thing you should know is I did probably 80-90% of these while on phone calls or in Zoom meetings and that's reflected in the simplicity of most pieces -- the compositions aren't complicated, the lines aren't refined, the coloring is slapdash. If you noticed variation in quality of the pieces, that's why!

Second: I tried to focus on trying something new for each drawing. Didn't always happen, but this challenge did succeed in helping me push me out of my own comfort zone.

Without further ado...

A is for Arthur Pendragon

Textures, baby! Brushed metal of his armor, scratchy linen texture of his shirt, wispy softness of hair and skin. I'd recently gotten my tablet out of storage after a year of figuring out where the hell I was going to live and this was one of the first pieces of digital art I spent time on. Glad it was Arthur kicking us off!

B is for the Beginning of the End (1x08)

Fun fact, I did not draw this with my tablet. I drew it with my work computer's touchscreen. It was awful, would not recommend.

C is for Camelot

I wanted to get used to different brushes, so landscape of the castle it was! There are brushes that help with drawing grass; I did not use said brushes and my wrist hurt afterward. That being said, I really enjoyed working on this and it was one of the few pieces I didn't do while multitasking.

D is for Daegal

Also drawn on my work computer's touchscreen, not my tablet. I didn't learn my lesson from B and the experience was even worse. This is my least favorite piece which sucks because it's Daegal so I'm slated to redo this sometime in the near future. Gotta do our boy justice.

E is for Elyan

Oh, I adored drawing this. Elyan often gets shafted in terms of fandom appreciation so I made sure to choose Elyan for this prompt and to participate in the Elyan fest. Plus, I love a good ghost story and figuring out a way to include the druid spectre was fun. Didn't multitask on this piece because Elyan deserved my full attention.

F is for Freya

Ho boy. This piece. I have such mixed feelings on this drawing. Really really didn't like it after I'd decided it was done and very nearly scrapped the whole thing. I had a vision in my head that I just couldn't render into reality and it frustrated me SO MUCH. Looking back, I like it much better than I did when I first created it.

G is for Gwaine

What can I say, he's pretty when he's cold. I didn't stretch too much with this one -- it's my normal drawing style, I was just trying to find a brush that mimicked the softness of pencil.

H is for Hunith

Another one that didn't stray too far from my comfort zone. I was stupid sick and slammed at work, so a motherly Hunith manifested herself. I blame the bad brush choice on the cold medicine.

I is for Isolde

I woke up and chose violence! Tried to vary my figure drawing style a little in this piece but my brain resisted, resulting in... this. Not mad at it, but not happy with it either. Poor Isolde.

J is for Juggling

Ah, this lovely piece was drawn during a particularly vexing meeting at work. Fun fact, there's another version of this line art that's less about Merlin's stress and more about mine.

K is for Knights of Camelot

Continuing the theme of doodling through bad news and shit meetings. Like I said above, normally meeting doodles aren't complex because I'm concentrating on something else. This one was more involved because I didn't want to concentrate on the meeting. I have a few issues with this from a technical standpoint (perspective, my nemesis) but it's still one of my favorites. Tried some funky coloring technique, didn't hate it.

V is for Vibrant Colors

And here is where we said fuck the rules and started going out of alphabetical order! This one was really fun to do and I loved kicking off Albion Party with this as my first submission. The colors were a challenge (as I hoped they would be) and this is the first time I had to do some color tweaking midway though and after finishing the coloring process. Vibrant Arthur, my beloved. This started as a multitask doodle but took dedicated time to finish.

O is for Old Religion

The concept for this one was buzzing in my head for a bit before a quote-prompt solidified it. I adore the thought of more visible, tangible representations of Merlin as the son of the elements, of "magic itself" -- not just sun-gold eyes, but sea-water hair and sandstone-skin. A complement to the vibrant Arthur portrait.

S is for Sorcerers

When I said I wanted to challenge myself, I wasn't kidding. Ho boy, this was fun but frustrating. I wanted to completely illustrate a gif. So I did. Will I do something like this again? Maybe. A while from now.

M is for Morgause

See above -- same illustrated gif style so at least I was able to reuse some drawings. Poor Morgause ended up looking a little wretched here because I was mentally done with this when I was drawing her. Love the concept of tarot cards + Merlin but others are doing it so I won't continue this series.

Z is for Zzzz

This one was specifically done to test out some custom brushes I made in Krita to make abstract background drawing easier for me. I think they turned out well! Plus who doesn't love bb iridescent Aithusa.

L is for Leon, P is for Percival

Quick, minimal doodles of the boys! Mentally, I was going for a Brady's-style retro ensemble cast TV show credits feel. Not mad at it! Some boys look closer to their actors than others (I think my brain broke drawing Percy, my apologies to Tom Hopper).

T is for Tristan

It wasn't until after I posted this that I realized there was more than one Tristan in Merlin. Could have drawn Isolde's bf but I drew Ygraine's dumb jock undead brother instead. Had some fun with dark greys and blacks here regardless.

Q is for Queen Annis

Best royal in Albion, bar none. I tried a different coloring technique here and I kinda like it! may make it my go-to but we'll see. Old habits are hard to break. Also: our queen deserved more badass clothes.

X is for Arthur X Merlin

Oh, be still my shipper heart. Doodled and colored during a meeting. I had hoped to spend more time on it outside of multitasking but alas, work is a bitch. This one is slated for a rework sometime in the future; I adore the concept too much to let it go without creating another version of this that isn't an utter mess.

U is for Uther's Ward

And here's my attempt at forgoing line art. Not fun, do not like.

Y is for Young Warlock

Channeled some pain into this one. Those are the dead eyes of someone who had been told that he'd succeeded when his friend died. That the destiny he'd been expecting to carry on his shoulders into old age was done and dusted before he turned 30. Grief plus the existential dread of the aimless immortal. Oof. One of my favs.

N is for Nimueh, R is for Rising Sun, W is for Will

And we end on this sorry offering. I was away from home for a while without my tablet and I just got tired of waiting. So, pen doodles at the airport. This was a challenge in its own right because 1. pen only and 2. I wasn't able to pull Netflix up for a reference on the fly. Which is why Will's face is obscured and Nimueh looks.... not like Nimueh lol.

In summary: this was a goddamn joy to do. I finished 26 letter prompts in approximately 21 weeks, which exceeded my own unspoken goal of filling one letter per week. I found a good, happy corner of the Merlin fandom after a years-long hiatus away from being a fandom creator. If you did make it this far with me, thanks for reading my inane comments and giving this little project even a moment of your time -- I'm so grateful.

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. ix

→ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part nine / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence, minor angst

» a/n: short chapter D:! edit: i’ve tried and tried but it just doesn’t flow right when i try to make this into an x reader:// HALF will be an oc fic and i’ve decided to cut the backstory here;( thanks for the love and support!

» word count: 2,494

☾ix. pt. ix: youth

3 months later

Loud, bass-bumping music and too many flashing lights fueled the exhilaration and excitement of one of the biggest night clubs in Yorknew City.

Sayomi had defeated her second opponent on the 200th floor with the help of Hisoka’s training earlier today, making this little outing a sad excuse for a celebration.

In reality, Hisoka just wanted to see whether Sayomi could dance or not.

He had insisted they go out and experience the nightlife the city had to offer, and with Sayomi still upbeat from her match, they found themselves sneaking into Octagon- a hip club located in the heart of Yorknew City.

Though technically Hisoka was 21 and therefore could have gone about this in an easier way, he insisted they sneak in ‘just for the fun of it’. The truth was that he’d been kicked out of the club previously after using his ‘magic tricks’ to make people’s arms disappear, but it made his intrusion all the more fun.

As Hisoka watched the floor from his spot at the bar with a drink held loosely in one hand, Sayomi was currently lost in a crowd of passionate clubbers, her violet eyes gleaming with the thrill of the environment.

The black and silver dress she wore highlighted her figure as well as electrifying eyes and hair, the metallic material dazzling under the club lights as she lost herself in the music and people.

She was letting herself go for the night like she often did on her chaotic trips to the city with Hisoka. Free from repressive parents or a fight for her life, Sayomi was at peace with her new life, expressing herself however she wanted to.

Draining the rest of his Cosmopolitan, Hisoka’s eyes shifted to the young assassin, his face remaining expressionless as he watched her draw a crowd with her alluring glow. 

He’d been staring so intensely he didn’t even notice a man take the seat next to him. The sound of the man’s voice established his presence, yet Hisoka’s line of sight ceased to drift from the girl with the bright silver hair.

“A stunner isn’t she?”

Hisoka blinked slowly, hardly registering the man’s words. A stunner indeed, but what more? “A pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty soul.”

The man laughed, setting his drink down on the bar to face Hisoka. “I take it she isn’t yours then? That’s a relief.”

Hisoka rested his chin in the palm of one of his finely manicured hands, his other tapping on the smooth surface of the bar impatiently. He couldn’t seem to figure out why his bloodlust was seeping through as he followed Sayomi with his eyes.

His? She could never belong to any man, she was her own person.

“Careful with your words there, I’d hate for them to be your last.” His words were venomous, filled with the intent to kill.

Hisoka’s nails had cut through the skin of his own cheek, his other hand clenched into a fist on the bar’s surface.

The man had shifted away from him, quietly taking his leave as he watched crimson seep down Hisoka’s pale fingers.

Over the past 3 months, he’d been able to fight her more than enough times, and now he no longer felt the same intoxicating feeling when he was with her. Sayomi never fought Hisoka to hurt him, only with the intentions of improving her own skills, which in turn left Hisoka aching for more.

However, as the days progressed he was slowly coming to the conclusion that the Zoldyck girl had an undeniable flaw. She doesn’t put up a fight when I’m with her.

He was losing interest in the girl who’d once swayed his unshakable feelings, and it distressed him that he almost felt bad for wanting to leave her behind.

His sharpened fingernails dug farther into the pale skin of his cheek as he watched Sayomi throw her slender arms around a man she’d only just met. 

She was laughing and smiling, her silky voice seeming to reach his ears through the music and cheers from where he sat. Loud and clear, the sound of her laughter rang through Hisoka’s head in an almost painful way.

She was becoming a weakness to the man who believed himself to be the strongest, and that didn’t sit right with him at all.

☾ix.

Sayomi wasn’t too sure of what exactly it was that she felt towards Hisoka.

When he took her to dinner with an amazing view or complimented her progress with training, she couldn’t tell whether it was her lack of social contact or actual feelings that led her heart to race when she saw his face.

It didn’t help that on some days she could notice the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, only to leave her heart stinging with his harsh words on other days.

He was taking mixed signals to the next level, playing with her feelings while he was trying to figure out his own.

It was selfish and cruel, falsely gaining the trust of someone who’d been through so much betrayal, all for his own entertainment.

But that was just who Hisoka was, he didn’t care for distractions or hindrances. And as fast as he’d first fallen for the young assassin, he was already in the process of making himself forget her.

He was moving on.

☾ix.

3 months later

It was the day after Sayomi’s 7th match on the 200th floor of Heaven’s Arena. She’d been scheduling her fights randomly, with no regard for who her opponents would be.

With 7 wins under her name, she only needed 3 more to challenge a floor master. 

However, with her longtime goal fast approaching, she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be.

It’d been about half a year since Sayomi had first met Hisoka, and all the excitement and jitters about spending time alone with a guy had died down. 

It’d also helped that for some reason Hisoka was rather occupied recently. He rarely took her out to the city, claiming he had other business to attend to, and when they did go out, he’d always turn in first mumbling that he was tired.

Sayomi was no fool, she knew that Hisoka was either losing interest in her as well or felt his job was almost through. To herself, she hoped that it was the former, for it would hurt less than to find out he’d only been around her for business purposes.

Regardless, Sayomi’s current situation was puzzling. She stood waiting for what seemed like forever in front of Hisoka’s room, ready to go out and train.

However, after knocking more than enough times and even calling his cell, there was no sign of her trainer. 

That’s odd.

Sayomi trained on her own that day, taking it upon herself to get strength training in at the gym.

It was the first time she’d spent an entire day without Hisoka since they’d started training. Deciding that he was out on his so-called ‘business’, Sayomi shrugged away his absence, going to sleep early for the first time in a while.

Yet, another day passed with no sign of the magician, and Sayomi began to grow concerned for his well-being. What if he was picked off by someone? No, he’s too strong to lose to anyone here… Did he pass out in his room?

Sayomi walked briskly to Hisoka’s room with a worried mind.

Once again there was no response to her knocking, and she decided she’d break into the room.

Using one of her longer needles, she picked the lock in no time, stepping into the unfamiliar room. 

It was empty. Only the faint smell of bubble gum and something sweet lingered in the abandoned room, the closet and space empty.

There was a note left on the cleanly made bed, the red ink standing out from the otherwise white sheets surrounding the note.

That lazy ass, of course he’d leave a note in his own room. 

Picking up the sheet, she read:

Zoldyck-

It’s about time you sneak into my room, I know you’ve thought about doing it before;) 

But jokes aside… 

I’m sorry, darling. 

It’s not like me to apologize(you can ask Kite)and that alone scared me, because I feel like you’ve changed me. Your smile and intoxicating eyes make me weak in the knees…

And I despise myself for it. 

I’m not sure why I’ve chosen to expose my faults to you, for that just makes you all the more dangerous to me.

But perhaps I want you to hold my weaknesses, and perhaps I’d like to see you come tear me apart. Yes, that must be it. 

I’ve departed Yorknew City to meet up with your twin brother, as it seems as though he’s been searching for you. And perhaps I should have taken him to you instead, but I’m not, because when the time is right I’d like you all to myself.

So don’t forgive me, Sayomi. Resent me, grow stronger, and when the time comes I’ll bring your brother back to you.

Ah, and there is one thing I’d always wanted to tell you… 

I always thought that you were most beautiful when you showed your true colors-

A cold-blooded, cold-hearted Zoldyck assassin with no regard for the pain and suffering of your victims.

Stop holding yourself back, people like us can be forgiven for our sins because of the hell we’ve been put through. 

-Hisoka 

☾ix.

A single tear rolled down Sayomi’s cheek. 

And that was all.

The flurry of sudden information rendered Sayomi breathless as she tried to make sense of his words.

This idiot really just admitted his feelings for me after all this time right when he decides to leave me here. Selfish bastard.

And he knows Illumi… but how? Illumi was looking for me? 

I have to become a floor master and get that clown to bring my brother back.

☾ix.

6 months later

Sayomi gazed out her window with a blank stare, 241 floors above the ground.

Just a week ago she’d claimed her spot on the 241st floor as the newest and youngest Floor Master at age 19.

She knew Hisoka would find out about her achievement soon, and all she could do now was wait.

Up until defeating and killing her last opponent, time had flown by easily. She was fueled by the goal of finding her brother and confronting Hisoka, but now that she was here, the loneliness began to sink in.

Kite and his student had taken off to another country in search of wildlife to study, leaving Sayomi all alone in Yorknew City.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her situation. Here she was at the top of the tallest building in Yorknew City, a place that others died trying to get to, yet she was unsatisfied.

Her face and name were plastered on billboards and posters all throughout the city, and citizens stood envious of the young teen’s life. She had enough money that she’d never have to work another day in her life, but in exchange she no longer had a family to accept her nor friends to laugh with.

Don’t feel sorry for yourself, there’s plenty of others that have it worse.

Sayomi sighed as she turned away from the window, grabbing her mask she’d started using as a floor master to attempt to conceal her identity. 

I won’t have challengers for another month or so… might as well hit the city.

☾ix.

Sayomi walked through the dark streets of Yorknew City, her hands clasped behind her head and her eyes vacant.

She didn’t have a destination in mind, just mindlessly strolling through the city covered with news of her promotion to Floor Master. There were citizens recognizing her as well, pointing and jumping back as if she were some monster.

Though she couldn’t blame them, as her nen happened to be on the disturbing side. The replays of her fights were mostly censored, deemed too inhumane for the public eye as they played on repeat on the sides of buildings,

She wasn’t too sure how far she’d walked, spotting Heaven’s Arena rather far in the distance behind her. The shops and glamorous hotels began to fade as she approached the run down parts of Yorknew City.

It was an abandoned lot of buildings, the ground littered with oil cans and shattered glass. In a way it was tranquil, free from angry drivers and the revolted gaze of commoners.

Walking through an opening in the wired fences that surrounded the lot, Sayomi wandered through a certain building that’d caught her eye.

She felt a faint aura coming from the abandoned office building, but oddly enough it wasn’t hostile or repelling. It was rather comforting.

Sayomi’s curiosity grew as the aura increased, drawing her towards the room located at the far end of the first floor.

She saw the man before she sensed him, his large coat catching her attention. His back was turned to her crouched down on the dusty floor, the windows adjacent to him shattered, letting the pale moonlight reflect off of his coat.

St. Peter’s cross. Interesting taste in fashion…

Another careless step closer and the man’s head turned abruptly in her direction. Sayomi had ducked behind a wall, but not fast enough.

The man stood from his spot, revealing a vibrant patch of violets by his feet. Upon his loss in concentration, the flowers wilted, withering back into the cluttered floor as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Sayomi could see the man’s face from where she crouched, hidden by a barely intact wall. Her heart skipped a beat upon meeting his eyes, deep gray and captivating as he easily identified her from her hiding spot.

It felt as if time was frozen in place, the young man staring intensely into Sayomi’s eyes as if he could read her mind. 

Sayomi was unmoving as well, having been caught examining his figure from behind the wall. He was by far the most appealing man she’d ever seen, his dark, raven hair slicked back to reveal a tattoo decorating the middle of his forehead, contrasting with his gentle eyes and youthful facial features. 

Handsome, she thought. 

The man took a slight step forward, snapping Sayomi out of his hypnotizing gaze as she sped off jumping through an empty window and out of the building. 

Though she was eager to know what he’d been doing with the flowers, his aura had changed when he’d noticed her watching. It had been dangerous and intense, a total opposite of his warm and placid one when dealing with the violets.

Her quick steps transitioned into a run, feeling the need to distance herself from the lingering intensity of the mysterious young man’s aura.

She ran back towards the towering building of Heaven’s Arena, not stopping her pace a bit until she was met with the familiar neon signs and billboards that surrounded the heart of Yorknew City.

Her dreams were taken over by the man’s captivating eyes that night. His familiar aura had seemed to beckon her to him, as if she’d known him for 100 years prior. 

But no matter how hard she thought that night, she couldn’t come up with an answer as to what he’d been doing with the violets conjured by his feet. 

In her dreams she saw her own eyes within the vibrant flowers, it was an abstract thought, though for a second she wondered if he had meant for her to see them. 

She quickly dismissed this, however, scoffing at the absurdity of her own thoughts. 

What am I, a child? I must be beyond lonely if I think some random guy has something to do with me.

Though deep down inside her heart, she wished it were true. To be fated to somebody, needed by somebody who she could trust with her darkest secrets and love.

☾ix.

to be continued.

[ornisapiens]

Art help resources

- Prefacing this with the caveat that this isn’t an exhaustive list of everything you’ll ever need, and it won’t list every tool, or channel, or guide I’ve ever looked into. These are some of which I’ve found the most useful for my artistic goals, and believe others who may also find them helpful need them.

Impossible World - This one’s more of a mood-based inspiration to me. The site lays out a wealth of impossible objects to understand bending the rules of edges and planes. You’ll also find art history relating to the main topic with names you may know, and some unheard. Even if mind-melting landscapes aren’t your thing, I recommend trying to render an object at least once so you’ll feel how your brain cranks its gears with that sort of exercise.

John Muir Laws - Greatly recommend this channel for anyone starting out drawing the natural world. John communicates details in an accessible, informative manner. If you’re stumped by songbird anatomy, he’ll demystify it. You don’t have to say goodbye to your “snowman birds” so much as give them carrot beaks if you think it’s funny.

The New Bird Drawing System

Drawing Mammal Gaits - Hop, Lope, Gallop

Zoe Hong - If and when I forget how to draw some parts of clothing, I turn over here. You’ll learn a ton about fabric properties, layering traditional media, and more surrounding the topic of fashion illustration. Zoe’s attitude is also a welcomed refuge from instant gratification and self-blame, with her quoting “practice not magic,” and “it’s hard because it’s hard, not because there’s anything wrong with you.”

Fashion Illustration Tutorial: Print Fabrics

Practice Not Magic: Repainting an Illustration from 1996

The Unfeathered Bird by Katrina van Grouw - I have rarely seen a book covering this specific topic so wonderfully. The illustrations frequently cover muscles, organs, skeletons, and the examples are often rendered as if alive, to make appreciation easier for the queasy.

Dragonart Evolution by Jessica Peffer - A stylistic influence that spurred my re-approaching of digital art years ago. It was fairly easy for me to pick up and use, even when the bulk of my work wasn’t dragons. It’s a cool looking book to have on the shelf. I flip through it when I need a reminder to cool off about my own work, that some things are easier than stress makes them seem.

Classic Human Anatomy by Valerie L. Winslow - This is a decently sized book focused on muscular, skeletal, and skin structures. How they squash, fold, and extend, how they look at certain angles. Basically what you’d want to know for life drawing. The glossary covers Greek and Latin names if you’re inclined. The artwork is clear enough to see what’s what, though its layouts can seem sterile. I do like the illustrations and understand the reasoning behind their presentation.

Human Anatomy by Benjamin Rifkin, Michael J. Ackerman, and Judith Folkenberg - Art history spanning across the Italian Renaissance to the modern age, outlining the rationale of artists depicting what they drew. It’s not as stuffy as it seems at first glance. There are instances where the artists are recognized as flawed, resilient, angsty, petty, and humorous human beings. From disassembled body parts, to skeletons frightening the living, to paintings of skin related symptoms, you’re sure to find something that makes you squirm as much as it captures your interest.