#this one sketch took me over an hour like drawing these guys is not my strong suit At All

[tasklinemgr]

skelecog sketches part 3: I think I might be getting better at this (ft. styx)

[asherashedwings]

FNF CONNECTED UNIVERSE LINE UP Part 1: The Boyfriends

Chat. I spent 34 hours in this canvas. I am so tired.

Anyways, when I began working on Connected Universe AU, I already knew I'd be making line ups. Cuz I love making line ups and I also love suffering.

Close-ups and lots of yapping under the cut

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A LOT OF READING IM SO SORRY-

Alternate Universe Boyfriends

So all these guys, unlike the other BFs present on this line up, are actually BF but from different universes. They're the same dude.

I thought it'd be neat to display the fact that they're from different universes by drawing them all in different art styles. It was also a fun exercise to test my art style range.

So starting from the left, we got Base Game BF. The main universe one. He's drawn in my usual art style. Not much special about him. Boyfriend.XML my beloved. I will note here though that I did take some of the elements form my own BF design and threw them onto the AU BFs. So that's why they all have some sort of jacket/hoodie etc.

Then we got Yourself. I reverted to old tactics and used my sketch for his line art, which results in him having thicker line art in general. I also further distinguished him by giving him harsh black shading. He always has that. He already had it on his face, so I just gave it to the rest of his body too. Cuz silly. You. You could even say. Silly Billy- 💥💥💥

Then we have Funkadelix. Him and a few other BFs make use of the Blackburn brush for their line art, cuz idk I like that brush. I referenced the Mutant Mayhem style when making him, since in the Connected Universe, he's in the same universe as those turtles. His colors are mostly yoinked from the actual Funkadelix sprite. I think. I may have tweaked them a bit/eyeballed them idk. I prolly eyeballed them.

Then we got Monday Dusk Monolith (MDM). I really went with the mentality of "NO ROUND SHAPES" with this fucker. Just wanted him to look super sharp and scratchy, since that AU is literally dealing with an apocalypse. So sharp shapes just made sense in my brain.

I had a lot of issues settling on a style for Mix, so I just chose to take inspiration from the FNF loading screens, cuz it just fit in my brain, idk. His design also features present in my Pico design, like the stupid cleat shoes and stray hair lines. Yknow, since he's literally a mix of BF and Pico. He also uses Blackburn

Finally, HD. I decided to try and go for a semi realistic style for him, proportion wise at least. Cuz. Yknow. HD. He also uses the blackburn brush, but I also pulled an old tactic for him and made his sketch visible over his coloring. Cuz idk, I think it lends towards the vibe.

"Side" BFs

Okay, now we're REALLY getting into AU territory.

So from here on out, all the BFs are separate people from THE BF, and have their own names and shit.

So staring off, we got Blake. I was reading through his wiki trivia and saw them say his style was more "radical and funky" than base BF's. I saw the word funky and ran with it dawg. So that explains this clothes. I also tried my darndest to get rid of a lot of the BFs caps, cuz dude, I can't have that many fuckers having cubic backwards caps. So I gave Blake a pair of star shaped sunglasses cuz funky, chat, FUNKY. We decided that his stage name is Love Bird, and he chose that cuz that's a pet name his GF has for him, and if he had a band it'd be called The Birds of Paradise.

Then we got .XML. I immediately knew I wanted to give him a mullet. Look at this man and tell me he wouldn't have a mullet. Besides that, not much changed. Since he kept the name of .XML, I imagine he is actually related to BF in some way, and he just goes by his last name. They might be cousins or brothers or something idk. There's also more dumbass info on him here:

Then there's River, or G-Sides BF. I took a lot of inspiration from his teaser designs, cuz they were silly. Literally named his river after the dumbass river design on his sweater. I don't got much info on him besides that. I can't talk about River without including this image so here:

The New Yorkers

This group is literally named after the fact that they all live in NY in my AU. Technically, the Minus BFs should also be here, but they're their own group.

Starting with Bartholomew, or B3, I just took the shape of his glasses and ran with it. Chat I needed to get that shape language from somewhere. I actually drew him twice, since the first time around I really was not digging how I drew him. He's fine now tho. His ass only got brim, cuz he had to be different somehow. Other than that. not much changed for him.

Now Evan.. Evan gave me so many issues. Like, dawg I drew him three times. I kept on trying to make the orange in his upcoming design WORK but I just COULDNT chat i COULDNT

So, per @braveboiart 's request, I ended up getting rid of it entirely and replacing it with his blues and grays. They also gave me the advice of brightening the colors a bit, which was very easy for me to do, I love bright ass colors. I also touched up his design shape wise, since that was also lacking the first time around. So boom, zippers on the pants and baggy ass sleeves. I'm content with how he came out. Chat I did all his design touch ups while I was exhausted out of my mind. Sometimes you gotta be delirious with sleep deprivation in order to cook, kids, trust me (please do not be like me-)

Benjamin was pretty simple. Kept him soft, kept him round, kept him pastel. Got rid of the caution sign on his hoodie since .XML already had that, and just replaced it with paint splatters. Not much more to say.

With X's design, I got a lot of help from my good good friend @minxtheeenby , mainly when figuring out his hair style. Those braids are not actually his hair, and are fuckass cords that connect to his headphones and can move independently. Don't ask about the logic, I will not be thinking about it. He was born in Philly cuz of his fuckass white eyes. White eyes means Philly, I don't make the rules here.

Minus BFs

The colorful critters, these guys are.

So. Beta. I had actually drawn him before this point, and he didn't change much from then

He has arrow shaped top surgery scars cuz I love giving constantly shirtless characters top scars and I just. HAD TO once I had the idea to make them arrow shaped. Main things to change since that drawing are some details on his pants and some of his colors; notedly the fact that his hat is a darker color compared to his skin to further distinguish it. Also Brave kept trying to get me to make parts of his design the same color as his nipples. So that happened /lh

Chat. I let my furry show with Blue. BUT CHAT HEAR ME OUT. On the wiki it's stated that he's a "Dog??". You think I could look at that and not go all the way? So yeah. Dog. He's silly and he got his weird ear ring things from his sister (Minus Miku).

Not much to say on Mean, he barely changed. I just drew him in my style and added a few details. He might also be an alien, idk.

Now, I posted about Golden a bit, but for those who didn't see that insanity: I made him an Alien Hominid. Cuz small yellow alien=Alien Hominid in my brain. Flawless logic. (Don't worry chat, I sat down and extensively researched the AH series to the best of my ability to check if it made sense. And I didn't see anything that would make it not make sense?) But yeah, silly. Him and Otis might be buddies, cuz goofy.

Who Fuckin Knows

These guys are just all the guys I had nowhere else to put. Miscellaneous group.

So first we have Bonnie, or Saturday Night Swappin' BF. He's another one that I had to go back and touch up. I actually touched him up the same night/morning as Evan. He ended up turning purple. The name we assigned him was an omen /j Chat I swear he was originally blue, I don't know what happened

HC that he just got really into FNaF when he was younger and has just been cosplaying a humanized Bonnie the Bunny ever since /hj

BIDU GAVE ME SO MANY ISSUES AND IDK WHY. It's prolly cuz by the time I got to him I was getting SUPER burnt. But I prospered and was able to finish him. And I don't hate how he came out, so bonus points there. Main change was replacing the prohibition sign on his shirt with a lightning bolt, cuz no one but BF is allowed to have that symbol, and Bidu already had lightning bolt imagery, so eh why not. His eyebrows being green, at least in my style, implies his hair is naturally green, and he just added the blue and pink, and I find that slightly humorous, idk.

Keith (StarCatcher) was another one I had to go back and touch up, but that's due to the fact that I was informed that him and his GF got a redesign before the creator deleted their FNF stuff. So I had to go back and fix my design according to that. I also leaned into the scape suit direction cuz SHAPE.

Now, you might be wondering, why is Flippin BF here and not with the other alternates? He was grouped with him in a previous post? Well, that's because after more assessment, I decided that Friday Night Flippin' is in fact, in the same universe as Base FNF and not an alternate universe like I had previously decided. So I changed his design a bit (mainly just getting rid of his hat and changing the color of his shoes) and boom. Different guy. He is staying pixel art tho. I do still need to come up with a different name for him tho.

Now this next one, Heath, is not from a currently existing mod, but from an FNF AU my friend Minx is making.

I decided to include him cuz he's silly and I love him. Their AU is canon to the Connected Universe.

Okay, so Cam (Hellbeats BF) changed A LOT. I let my furry slip out again. BUT I HAVE ANOTHER REASON FOR IT. See, in this connected universe, it's not just Newgrounds stuff that is canon. I also made other fandoms I'm in canon. So that means the Hellaverse is canon (specifically my rewritten version of it), and Hellbeats has to fit in with that. So I had to assign the characters species from that universe as well. So I made Cam a cherub, cuz I wanted him to stay short as fuck. He's also a raccoon cuz he's a lil shit and I thought it'd fit If ur curious, this is what everyone else is:

Okay I'm done yapping now. Gonna be doing the GFs next.

[marcasmacmanus]

Three Nobleman (Pt. III)

Lord Ambroys Belrose Desoleil

The last one I worked on. May one can tell this character is something really special to me.. and maybe that's one of the reasons this last portrait was a hell of a roller-coaster to me. Almost leading me to quit and abandoning the whole project. The reason why this particular painting has a different background than the other two is that I had to start over completely. The first mistake I made was the scale. At first I wanted to show way more of the character itself, what meant on the other hand, that all the details got way smaller and I just wasn't able to adequately handle that. The second problem was that I somehow messed up his face/expression and wasn't able to figure out what went wrong or what it was exactly, that make it seem so odd to me.. And last but not least, my absolute lack of understanding color.. yep, I like painting stuff but I don't really understand how colors work.. His mane/hair became my arch nemesis. Not that it is hard enough, to work with bright colors that are pretty close to each other, without outlines, no, I had absolutely no idea how many different colors are needed to mix blonde.. just to make that slight difference to his coat. The decision to use the "older" version of him wasn't helping either. His younger self doesn't have the straight mane/hair, which makes it way easier to let it look like "hair". Well, at least to me. But in the end I think I somehow managed it to a degree that it is acceptable (for my fourth time with oils). To end the part of my struggle with this one, there was one thing left I wish I had noticed earlier, and that's the position of his left arm. I just took the sketch from my first try and scaled it up, not noticing that the arm may look a little bit odd now.

But that's aside, I also had a lot of fun with the painting. I totally got lost in the rose on his revers (because I love roses the most) and there are some more details which made me really happy how they turned out. But I have to confess that I cheated a little on this painting as well. It's the only of the three portraits that isn't exclusively painted in oils. His horn is actually painted over with nail-polish to get that opalescent shimmer.

Ambroys' portrait took me about 90 hours (first try included). It's based on this drawing by @kwillow - how-much-conditioner-do-you-think-olderamby-goes -, which again means that I don't want to take any credit for the artwork itself.

Yes, Ambroys means a lot to me and that may be the reason I look more critical on this one. But the most important thing for me is, that the new owners, @chocodile and @kwillow, like them and can gain some joy out of my work. You guys gave me so much through your characters and their stories, and helped me through a very hard, and so far the darkest chapter of my life. And therefore, thank you!

[itsscromp]

Ink me up

As per the recent poll, It's time to give our favourite soldier a brand spanking new tattoo, courtesy of his bestie. Co-credit:@callofdudes Word count:988

Before joining the army, You had a dream of becoming a tattoo artist, Wanting nothing more then to create amazing drawings and be able to do this for many people who wanted it. You even went and took classes on how to do so. But though you were now with the 141, You wouldn't change it either way, You still had that desire.

Finding online a professional tattoo kit, you ordered that and some ink too to mail to the base, Once arriving you set it all up. The knowledge of what you learnt in college never leaves you. As if it was all second-hand nature.

Simon you knew had a lot of tattoos, his whole sleeve wrapped in them, Maybe you could be able to give him a tattoo. So you got up and went to go find him. "Simon come check this out !!" You ushered him back to your room once you found him.

"What's got you all excited mate ??" He raised an eyebrow as he entered the room, Seeing the kit in front of him.

"I bought a tattoo kit online, I used to do them back in college" You smiled proudly.

He tilted his head slightly, a little confused "And what do you plan on doing with it ?? Give yourself a wonky little heart on your hand ??" He chuckled.

"If you'll be happy to know Riley, I have gotten solid good grades from classes and my clients" You smirked at him playfully. Having had work experience at shops too.

"Oh, I didn't know you had some experience, Good for you then. But I still don't know what you plan to do with it though" He looked over at the kit.

"Well, I was hoping I could give you guys tattoos, Maybe you as well, add a new one to your collection."

"Really ?? Is that your plan ??" He chuckled.

"Well, if you want too. I can set it up and we can do it now" You smiled proudly.

He contemplated it, He did want a new tattoo, But he didn't know what he wanted to get. "It depends what kind of dumb thing you'd try to put on my skin"

"As the client you have every choice on the design"

He smirked, Starting to consider it. "Ok, what can you do ??"

You then pulled out a tattoo book you ordered as well and handed it to him. "Have a look through this and we'll go from there."

"Your being professional about this" He said as he skimmed through the book.

"I can be unprofessional if you want" You smirked before snickering "Come on, like I would ever do something like that."

He smirked "I'm not taking any chance in letting you putting some wanky shit on my body" Joking.

"Oh come on si, Please ??" You pouted and gave him your signature puppy dog eyes. Simon knew you would pull the trick and tried to resist....... Oh but how can he refuse his bestie !!!!

So sighing and points at the tattoo he wants. "It's dumb but there is no way you could possibly fuck this up."

"Ok, let's get to it" You smiled and set up the machine "Ok, so where would you like it ??"

Simon pulled off his sweater and rolled up his right sleeve, relaxing in the chair you brought in. "I'll let you put it on my bicep... Don't. Fuck it up" He smirked.

"I won't, trust me" You created the stencil and put your gloves on, Rubbing the alcohol on Simon's bicep and placed the stencil on.

"Ok, let's get to work" You started up the machine, dipping the needle in the ink and got underway. Simon watched on as you pressed the needle against his skin gently, careful not to hurt him. He was really impressed with your skill as an artist. "You never told me you could tattoo" He watched on.

"Never underestimate me Simon" You said, not losing focus on the sketch at hand.

"I'll keep that in mind"

After about a couple of hours on the stencil. "Ok, onto the shading"

Swapping out the needle and dipping it back into the ink, You began to shade the tattoo, Simon continued to watch as you worked, The shading making the tattoo come to life. "You're doing better than I thought you would"

"Had a dream of doing this as a career before the military, It was just hard to find a vacant position at any shop, And I wasn't going to start my own business" You chuckled.

And after a few more hours, the tattoo was complete. "And done" You smiled.

"Wow, I would expected to have heard about this earlier, I'll admit I'm a little hurt" He smirked, shifting in the chair a little.

"Better late than never" You then pulled a mirror out and showed Simon the finished artwork.

Inspecting it, Damn you did a great job on this. He started to smile under his mask.

"You like it ??" You said a little nervously.

"Well would you look at that" He looked up at you.

"It's good huh ??" You perked up proudly.

"It's better than I had expected, It can stay on my skin"

"That's the point of a tattoo" You snickered.

"Yeah but this doesn't look like crap" He smiled and inspected it again.

You were insanely proud of your work.

"You know... Even if it looked like shit, I'd still like it. Because you made it, And it looked pretty cool I wont lie."

"Yeah ??"

"Yeah, I like it a lot, Mostly cause you put it there"

Y/n was so happy Simon loved his brand new tattoo, You soon became his artist after that, Always coming up with new designs for him, The kit was a very well made purchase.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[bopbopstyles]

I JUST WANT A LOVER PT.2

RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, nipple play, lil holding of wrists above head)

WORD COUNT: 4.3k (and like 90% smut just for y'all b/c i couldn't stop myself i'm a slut <3 also i did not edit this sorry not sorry)

CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry

PT. 1 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

a/n: SURPRISE BITCHES!!!!!! y'all loved pt1 so much that i just couldn't help myself. perhaps not my finest work, but banged this out in like two hours for you all. luv u bunches, hope this is the happy ending you wanted (plus 95% smut including some JUICY lil thangs) XOXO thank you so much for the support of IJWAL — missed y'all <3

“I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, slotting his lower body between yours. You could feel his cock brush against your center deliciously, and it’s like it hadn’t been inside you less than twelve hours ago from the way your body lit up. “I might tell you, but only if you’re really, really nice to me.” 

He nosed at your forehead with his nose, tilting your head back slightly so he could look directly into your eyes. You loved when guys could match you with banter, could be all fun and playful after a hookup. Otherwise it was just awkward. So, you played along. “Nice, hmm?” You said, lifting your hands from their spot on the sheets and trailing your fingertips up his sides. 

The way Harry’s body tensed immediately caught your eye, and you loved it. The fact that you had the same effect on him that he had on you did wonders for your self esteem, and encouraged the playful fire burning in your stomach. 

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure. 

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face. 

or

It's the morning after and they're both really into each other (still)

In the morning, you learned, Harry was far too chipper. You were usually a gremlin until you’d had at least one cup of coffee, at which point you reached everyone’s-favorite-neighborhood-grump status, and after at least two hours of being awake you were usually finally able to have a conversation without grimacing repeatedly at how much you didn’t want to speaking. 

So therefore, waking up to find Harry stretched out next to you scrolling TikTok with a smile on his face was not quite your favorite start to the morning. At least, on paper. But for some reason, when he looked over and smiled at you, you couldn’t help but think you might reach your nice stage a little faster this morning. 

“Morning,” Harry said, locking his phone and placing it on his bedside table. “Sleep okay?”

You pushed your hair out of your face and sat up, scooting backward until your back hit his headboard. “Apart from you being the hottest human known to man and roasting the whole night, yeah.”

He grinned at you. “Hottest, eh?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I meant temperature-wise, you idiot.”

Harry chuckled and reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a glass of water. “Here, got this for ya.” He passed it to you, fingers brushing yours as you took the glass from his grip. Even though the two of you had sex last night, you couldn’t help but notice how warm and soft his hands were, and how they sent a shiver ripping down your body. 

“Thank you,” you told him, glancing around the room. Last night you’d only seen in the partial darkness, the only light while you’d been having sex coming in from the street—which was enough to see Harry in all of his glory, but not enough to make out the intricate details of his room. 

It was covered in art, you quickly noticed. Not framed, valuable, and hung art, but sheets of drafting paper with sketches on them, little napkins with drawings, and smaller watercolors. You could tell that there was a recurring style of drawing and painting across the papers, but not necessarily all the same—they could’ve been done by multiple people. In the corner was a record player, an old and nice one, you thought, and a set of speakers with too many records to fit in the storage unit he had. They were in stacks on the ground next to the turntable, spines out so you could see the name of the record. That, you thought, tracked with what he’d told you—that he was a musician and worked in a record store. 

At the end of the bed was his dresser, with the hem of shirts poking out from drawers and the top scattered with various items. Nail polish, a dish of tons of vintage rings, a couple of necklaces hanging from pins in the wall. A couple bottles of cologne, and a stack of books with a photo frame on top. Above the dresser was a circular mirror, and in it you could see yourself and Harry perfectly. In fact, a little too perfectly—your hair was sticking in all directions after having gotten wet in the shower and there was a rim of black from old mascara under your eyes you’d been too lazy to scrub off last night. Harry, on the other hand, looked perfect with his five o’clock shadow and pink lips begging to be kissed, hair tousled like it was meant to be like that. 

You ignored your reflections, enjoying your perusal of his room, and turned to see his desk on the other wall of the room, where two large windows by New York City standards stood, letting in morning light through heavy curtains. There were papers all over the desk, black ink scribbles scattered across them, and a stack of black leather notebooks in the corner next to a cup of black pens (all the same kind, he must have a type). A computer sat on the desk, covered by paper, as well as a very fun mushroom lamp that make you smile. 

“So?” You turned back to Harry, confused. “What’s your assessment?”

“Of what?”

“My room you were obviously just investigating.”

Oh. He had been watching you explore his space. “That you’re very artistic?”

He smiled, and then replied with a nod. “That’s true.”

“Are those drawings all yours?”

He shook his head. “A lot of them are my sister’s. She’s older, and sends them to me in a care package once a month. Her way of showing me the world around her. Been doing it since she was at university, so what’s up in a mixture of stuff from years. The others are mine.”

It was sweet, you thought, how close he seemed to be with his sister. “Is she an artist?”

“Nah, she’s teaching history. Unlike me, she decided that it was better to keep her artistic passions just for herself. She told me once that she didn’t believe in that whole idea that if you do something you love for your job you never work a day in your life. She told me’ It’s still work at the end of the day,’ so she just does it in her free time. Kind of jealous she can do that.”

You rotated slightly onto your side, able to look at him better “You can’t?”

“It’s funny, for a long time I never thought I’d do anything related to music. But then it was like it kept begging me to try it out. For a while I thought that my friends were playing a joke on me because every pub night I went to there was an open mic night.” You laughed at that, and he smiled at you. “And there was this feeling that the music was just spilling out of me. It would come to me at the funniest times, especially on the subway or when I was walking home, and I’d have to write it down or it’d never get out of my head. So I finally just decided to take it as a sign.”

“That’s really amazing,” You told him, meaning every word. He looked suspicious of your statement though. “To have something that you are that passionate about. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about something. Always wanted to. Thought there was something wrong with me, even, that I didn’t have a passion like all my other friends.”

Then, Harry did the sweetest thing you’d ever had happen to you during a one night stand. He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear that had escaped, his fingertips trailing down your neck as he withdrew his hand. It was like he craved your skin as much as you where craving touching his, with his chest exposed, his many tattoos on display. 

Finally, he spoke, and when he did, his voice was rougher than it had been before. “You’re not missing out,” he said. “Sometimes I wish I could shut it off. Would make life a hell of a lot easier.” 

His words were so raw, so honest. 

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Isn’t this intimate for a morning after conversation.”

You laughed, pushing gently against his shoulder. “Hey, I thought it was cute.”

“Just what every man wants to hear first thing in the morning,” he answered, rolling towards you and propping himself up on his wrists so he was hovering over you. “I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, slotting his lower body between yours. You could feel his cock brush against your center deliciously, and it’s like it hadn’t been inside you less than twelve hours ago from the way your body lit up. “I might tell you, but only if you’re really, really nice to me.” 

He nosed at your forehead with his nose, tilting your head back slightly so he could look directly into your eyes. You loved when guys could match you with banter, could be all fun and playful after a hookup. Otherwise it was just awkward. So, you played along. “Nice, hmm?” You said, lifting your hands from their spot on the sheets and trailing your fingertips up his sides. 

The way Harry’s body tensed immediately caught your eye, and you loved it. The fact that you had the same effect on him that he had on you did wonders for your self esteem, and encouraged the playful fire burning in your stomach. 

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure. 

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face. 

“Oh yeah?” You pushed at his right shoulder, forcing him back to his pillow and onto his back. With ease, you sat up and slotted your knees on either side of his hips. But you didn’t rest yourself on his body, instead you hovered above him, suddenly thankful for the pilates you’d become obsessed with lately, because your legs didn’t shake immediately. “Wonder if I could guess a couple of them.”

Harry’s eyes were wide, staring at you. His gaze was locked on your tits, which were uncovered and bare for him to see, and you loved the attention, the feeling of warm from his gaze on your body. “I think you might be onto something.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, gently lowering onto his bare cock and brushing delicately up and down on him, the friction making both of you moan. Then, you lifted right back up, hovering on your knees, with Harry staring up at you in disbelief. However, he didn’t make a sound, just watched you, mesmerized. 

You reached below you and held his length in your hand, running your hand up and down, watching the muscles in his jaw clench with every stroke. Then, you lifted his tip and brushed him against your slit, which by this point was most definitely wet. And you knew he could feel it. 

The sound that left his throat as you ran his tip along you slit but not inside it sent your brain into overdrive. You barely resisted the temptation to slip him inside, but you wanted to tease him, to make him beg to fuck you. That desire managed to help you hold onto your sanity as you slipped just the very smallest amount of his tip inside of you and then rose up out of reach. 

The man below you whined when you lifted up, his hands curling around your thighs and tightening. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck.”

But you weren’t done. You rested his cock flat on his hips and lowered yourself down, rubbing your pussy back and forth on his length, and letting yourself get lost in the feeling. Because you could come to this feeling alone—the feeling of his skin, the warmth of him, the way his tip notched in your clit and made you bite your lip delicately. Your head dropped back and your hands crept up your body, fingers pulling and kneading at your breasts. At this point any semblance of self-consciousness had left you and you were consumed in your own pleasure, in chasing your own orgasm regardless of who was there to witness it. 

In fact, if Harry’s hands hadn’t slipped under yours, you could’ve forgotten he was even there. But then his fingers crept under yours and pushed your hands off your breasts, and his own replaced yours. His fingers were rougher than yours, the tip of his thumb calloused from pressing down on his guitar strings, and you loved how it felt on your skin. The rough graze of skin on yours, and the way his hands were larger than yours and could hold more of your breasts in his hands. And then he started to knead them and your mouth dropped open a tad, just enough for a whimper to escape your throat. 

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, the pet name dropping from his mouth and melting into your veins, filed away for your fantasies later, once you were truly on your own. The way it sounded coming from his lips, the way the syllable left his tongue. 

His tongue. Your head perked up and you found his eyes, which were already staring at you. You wanted his tongue. You bent your head and down and his lips rose to meet yours, crashing together in the press of need and desire. His lips parted with ease when you brushed against them with the tip of your tongue, and then you had access to what you wanted. When his tongue touched yours, you curled your fingers in his hair and pulled gently, the feeling of being consumed by him taking over. Your hips were still moving back and forth, and you just needed more and more of him. It wasn’t enough. 

“More,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead to his, hands on his shoulders for leverage. 

“What do you want, angel?” A new pet name that you filed away.

What did you want? You thought about it for a split second and let the first thought that flashed into your mind take hold. When you needed to finish, the thing that always put you over the edge was a tad bit of pain. Your favorite, by far, when you were like this—touch starved and needy—was on your nipples, though. 

So you grabbed his hands, and maneuvered them so his thumbs and forefingers caught around your nipple, and pressed the together. The pain shot through you in a delicious way—not too intense, but enough to make your pussy tighten at the sensation. 

Harry let out a sound that you couldn’t place. Somewhere between a groan and a whine and the sound of your name. “That, hmm, baby? Like a bit of pain?”

You nodded so fast, not wanting him to stop. 

“Fuck, okay. Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” You nodded once more, and then you lost yourself in the feeling. 

He varied the pressure, giving your nipples a break but then pressing harshly so it always felt like a jolt of pain—which is exactly what you liked. The surprise. It made your hips speed up in time, head lolling from side to side as breathy moans escaped your mouth, sounding something like his name. 

You hadn’t had this feeling in a minute, and you missed it. The all-consuming feeling of chasing an orgasm with someone else, of the combination of friction and pain, your absolute favorite that never failed you. 

“You are so hot,” he mumbled, quietly and almost to himself. But you heard it. 

And it happened to toss you right over the edge. The pressure on your nipples was too much and you could feel how hard he was, and the wetness of you made you slide right along his ridges and fuck it was too much. You crashed into an orgasm, a fire of glory that left your body quivering, fingers tightening on Harry’s shoulders. “Fuck,” you breathed out shakily, eyes opening after the shocks quieted in your system.

They found Harry immediately, his gaze on yours. “Good?”

“Mhmm,” you answered, twirling your fingers at the nape of his neck where his hair was. “You’re good at that.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re better—nearly came watching that.”

“Yeah?” You reached down and brushed your fingertip over his tip. 

His hips jolted at the touch, hands tightening from their new location on your hips. “Good lord, woman, gonna kill me.”

You cocked your head to the side. “I hope not. Was hoping to have another round.” You don’t think he realized he did it, but his tongue slipped out and wiped across his lips. 

“I’d be—fucking hell.”

You’d slipped him inside of you mid-sentence, so fast he didn’t realize it. And the feeling of him inside of you was absolute fucking heaven. You were still tight from your orgasm and dripping, and he was rock hard—the triple threat meant that your body shook ever so slightly at the feeling, your sensitivity making how good he felt send you into overdrive. Gently, you rose up, slipping your ankles onto the tops of his thighs to gain leverage, and then back down. 

The way he bore so deep inside of you made you groan, low and deep. And with that, you were moving without even realizing it—and then Harry was above you. 

He’d flipped you on your back. 

And with one look at his eyes, you knew there was no way he was going to let you move an inch. His gaze was ravenous, like a caged animal just freed. His eyes were devouring you, taking every morsel of you. 

Then, he started to move. 

His hips snapped forward and you cried out from how intense it was, the cry quickly turning into a flurry of moans and his name, falling from your mouth without pause as he fucked you hard. It was intense and delicious. His cock brushed so deep inside of you that it made your eyes roll back (not that you’d admit that to him), the pace he set forcing your hands to scramble across his skin to find something to hold onto. You ended up deciding on the duvet cover you’d slept under, hands above your head and fingers curled in the material, mouth dropped open in a silent scream that you couldn’t quite find the air for in your lungs because he was fucking it all out of you. 

“You feel so good,” he mumbled, yet another phrase in the mess of words leaving his mouth in that low, gravely, delectable voice of his. That was quickly followed by, “Your pussy feels like heaven” and “Never leaving, I swear to God”.

Somewhere in that train of words, you realized that he was bare inside of you. 

You had been the one to put him inside of you, but you had obviously been to fucked out of your mind to even realize it, because now he was completely bare inside of your pussy. 

“Harry,” you said. “You forgot a condom.”

The man, to his credit, immediately stilled inside of you. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Didn’t—how the fuck didn’t I realize that? Would like to at least be conscious when I get to feel your pussy bare for the first time.” He looked at your face. “Now I understand why you feel so good. Fuck—um, can you grab one? In the drawer on your right side.”

You looked at him, looking at you, and felt the clench of your walls around his bare cock, and made an incredibly impulsive decision. “You clean?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. “You?”

“Yes. And have an IUD. Keep going, please—just don’t come inside.”

“Fuck,” he said, and then he resumed his relentless pace. “Promise, angel—promise I won’t. Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“My tits,” you replied without a pause, and that made the gorgeous man above you groan harshly, one of his hands traveling up your body to tweak your nipple. You let out a squeak and then a moan as he continued, obviously using his newfound novel of your kinks to his advantage. 

“I love your breasts, goddamn,” he said, each word enunciated by a separate thrust. 

You could feel droplets of sweat dropping onto your skin, the sign of his exertion, and you loved the feeling. Loved watching him come undone above you. Craving him deeper, you lifted your legs and curved your calves around his hips, tugging him higher up your body and deeper inside you. Both of you groaned deeply, and then he did something you didn’t expect, but were immediately intoxicated by. 

He reached up to where your hands were curled in the duvet, and pushed your wrists together, and then wrapped his hand around them, holding your hands above your head. Most of his weight was in his other hand which was on the bed, so it didn’t put too much pressure on your wrists, but just enough to where you knew he was using the leverage to keep you in place. And it made your eyes flutter shut and hips arch up into him. 

The combination of all of this made his pace pick up, a stream of words falling from his mouth as he fucked you hard and fast and deep, just how you wanted it. You loved how talkative he was while he fucked you, something most men weren’t. 

Your second orgasm was rising quickly, rippling through your body and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, those green eyes finding yours immediately. “Gonna come,” you informed him, pussy tightening as if on command. 

His grip on your wrists tightened and he fucked you harder, a brutal pace that had you calling out his name, not even thinking about the fact that he definitely had roommates, because all you wanted was your orgasm, and you wanted everyone to know he gave it to you. 

Just as you came, your orgasm ripping through you like an unstoppable wave, Harry pulled himself out of you and you dropped your legs immediately, knowing he was going to come. He moved up the length of you and you scooted down, out of breath and panting from your orgasm but wanting his come on your breasts anyway. He tugged twice on his length and then come was painting stripes on your skin, warm on your clammy skin. 

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, hovering above you, panting. 

You smiled up at him, and when his hands released your wrists you reached down, pushing a forefinger through the streaks of come on your chest. Harry watched in awe as you brought your finger to your mouth, savoring his taste—salty and delicious. 

“You,” he said, eyes on your mouth. “You are amazing.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you replied, gazing up at him, wondering how you would be able to give him up. You were addicted. 

Two hours later, after an Uber Eats delivery for some coffee and bagels which were consumed in bed before Harry went down on you again, pulling yet another orgasm from you, and a very heated makeout session, you were tugging on your coat in his room. Harry was pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and when he placed a pair of glasses on his nose you smiled. 

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” you told him.

“Lots of things you don’t know about me.” He moved toward you and wrapped his hands around your hips, tugging your body into his. Your mouth met his with ease, a kiss more gentle than the previous ones dancing across your lips that made you smile. 

Stepping back, you said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

He nodded, and with another glance around his room, you followed him out of the bedroom and into the living room of his apartment. It was quiet—most likely his friends were either not awake still or hiding in their bedrooms. If you were his roommate, you’d definitely be hiding right now. 

The apartment was cramped, like every other New York apartment, but homey. Knick knacks and proof of life were scattered across all surfaces, random scraps of paper, a guitar pick here and there, some books, a plant or two. For a couple of guys, it wasn’t too bad. 

“So,” he said when you two reached the door. “I—uh—I had a lot of fun with you.”

You smiled at him, taking sincere joy in the awkwardness in his stance. He was so confident and forward all night and this morning, so seeing him like this made you grin. “I had fun too, Harry.”

He returned your smile, and reached down to curl his fingers in the top of your skirt. “Would you want to learn all those things about me?” You cocked your head at his statement, and then he quickly clarified. “That you don’t know. Like, over coffee.”

This man was asking you out on a date. A rarity for a one night stand. 

Even though you’d only gotten out of a relationship relatively recently, this man intrigued you. He was funny, kind, creative, and an absolute dream in bed. And he was fucking gorgeous. The banter helped too. You looked at him, studying the gleam in his eyes, and then nodded. 

“I’d love to.”

That made his smile grow even wider, and then he leaned down, attaching his lips to you in a kiss somewhere between sweet and full of desire, like he was remembering what your night held and was curious for the future. When he pulled away, he reached into his pocket for his phone. “Number, please.”

You typed in the digits as requested, and took it upon yourself to slide the phone back into his pocket, taking the opportunity to squeeze gently at his ass. It made him laugh, that laugh that lit up your body. “See you soon,” you told him, stealing one more kiss before opening the door and walking into his hallway. 

He stood in the doorway, shirtless in just a pair of pajama pants, hair beautifully ruffled, and watched you walk down the hall. The whole way you could feel his eyes on you, and it made your skin sing. 

Once you stepped onto the street, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you glanced down to find an unknown number on your screen. 

“Free at 2?”

It was noon.

You laughed into the streets of New York before replying with a Yes. The future, you thought to yourself before setting off for your own apartment, was full of possibility. 

tell me what you think!!!!!! XOXO LOVE Y'ALL

[crowscallthecrows]

pour me all of the gregory headcanons you wanna talk abt, be it romantic, general

anything, i’m starved🙏

Damn straight anon you have your priorities and I respect that

You might have see some of these featured in my other posts:

Hand cramps, and their pain level varies. I don't know much about it, but think carpal tunnel. Drawing for hours, even days, straight is therapy in the 1800s for him.

He's pretty impatient, and pushy if he needs to be. Problem is, he doesn't need to be with the other p4 and cheslock's mouth flapping around, so he's sat.

A messy person. Cheslock can clean up better then him.

Top Gregory anon, consider it.

Being odd, he's naturally a noticer of odd things. He hyperfixates on the protruding pulsating veins on the backs of Herman's hands, a lock of Edgar's hair that's shorter then the rest. When he casually mentions Lawrence's different prescriptions for each eye, Lawrence casually scoots away.

He slouches so he's taller then he looks

Sharp features he softens with makeup. His nose is sharp, the tips of his eyes sharper, and his lips are deeply curved.

P4 took a while to like him, but he decided he would kill for them on first meeting.

He can be pretty annoying actually. It's not even depending on how close someone is to him, he's so quiet it flies over peoples heads sometimes. Cheslock is the main victim of going back to Purple House from the gazebo 3 times straight because Violet refused to elaborate on WHAT black sketch book with the worn pages and spine he was referring to.

Freak in the sheets

His loves runs deeply and dearly.

The incident at Weston was to protect the prefects, not tradition. He did not give a damn in the moment.

He refuses to let Cheslock wash his cloak and he wears one so it starts smelling a little funky until his fag pries it off him like a toddler and his blanket.

He relates to Lawrence most. They're the quietest in the group.

That's if for now he's so skrunkly leave more ideas guys

[oldiesstationlover11607]

BROO I saw you want to write MCR fics can you please do anything involving the Danger Days characters x reader?? I'd be so happy if you did<3

Girl - Party Poison x Reader

Warnings: bit of angst lol

Word Count: 1853

A/N: Hello! I wrote this last year and thought I'd revive it so hopefully this is decent :) Enjoy! Hopefully you'll request something else :)

“What time did Dr. D’s broadcast start again?” Fun Ghoul shouted from outside the diner. He had been out there for nearly an hour, working on the Trans-AM—our car.

“7:30,” I called back. “Party’s out with Jet getting the bonfire set up. The Girl’s taking a nap, but she’s bringing the radio.” Kobra and I had been sitting inside the diner at one of our favorite tables, sketching in the notebook we bought last week from Tommy Chow Mein.

“You know, the Girl thinks you don’t like her,” Kobra mentioned as he sketched a draculoid. “She told me last night during our late-night chat. I think you should tell her the truth.” He knew I wouldn’t, though.

“Did she really say that?” I looked up from my drawing, feeling upset and disappointed. Kobra nodded. “You know I like her. It’s just… weird. I don’t know how to act around her, K. What did you tell her?”

“I told her you do like her, but you show it differently than the rest of us,” Kobra replied with a knowing smile.

“Good. I do like her. Probably more than all you killjoys,” I muttered, looking back down at my drawing.

“Ugh, this damn car won’t hold paint for longer than three days in this radiation!” Ghoul yelled, kicking the ground in frustration.

“Just wait for Jet to get back, Ghoul,” Kobra shouted back. “They’re gonna be here any minute.” Jet always knew what to do with the Trans-AM. It was his car, after all.

“Who’s gonna be back any minute?” a voice rang from the garage. Party Poison, with his fiery red hair, ran into the diner, grinning. Jet Star followed close behind, walking into the back room where the Girl slept.

“Party!” I smiled, jumping up and running into his arms. He hugged me tightly, pressing his lips to my forehead.

“Hey, baby. Did Kobra take good care of you?” Party asked, glancing over at his brother.

“He sure did. We just did some drawing, nothing too wild,” Kobra laughed.

“Guys, the sun’s about to set. Can we get going?” Ghoul called from outside again.

“Yeah, we’re coming. I’ll grab the Girl,” Kobra said, heading into the back room.

“See any dracs?” I asked Party as we walked toward the car.

“Not really. A few in the distance, but we’ll be fine tonight. We always take shifts,” he said, full of energy, as usual. That was why he led us—he kept us together and safe with that boundless drive.

“There she is!” Ghoul grinned as Kobra, Jet, and the Girl got into the car. “How you doing?” Kobra and the Girl climbed into the back with Party and me, while Ghoul and Jet took the front. The car was built for four, but if I sat on Party’s lap, Kobra could squeeze the Girl in next to him, allowing us all to fit. 

“I’m sleepy, but I’m ready to party tonight!” she beamed up at Kobra.

Those two had always been close. The Girl’s mom was my sister. Not that she knew that. Her mom left as soon as the Girl was born, post-Analog Wars, never telling us who the father was. Both of us had been captured by BLI and stuck in Battery City. We escaped and reached the desert just a week after she found out she was pregnant. No one had ever asked about the father. None of us wanted to know the horrors Better Living put her through. After we arrived, Kobra looked after the Girl while Party and I grew close. The others liked her, loved spending time with her, but I struggled. She was too much like her mom. I couldn’t stand watching my niece act and look just like her mother—it killed me. That’s why Party was always by my side. He knew how I felt.

“That’s great ‘cause we’re definitely ready too,” Jet smiled as we arrived at our spot. The sun finally set, leaving the desert peaceful and dark. The bonfire crackled as we got out of the car, Kobra holding the Girl’s hand. She smiled, looking happy, clutching the small boombox she’d decorated the night before.

“Wait!” Party whispered, quickly pulling out his blaster. I followed his gaze over the sand dune. Korse.

“Fuck,” I muttered, pulling out my neon purple blaster.

“This is gonna suck the life out of me. There are dracs everywhere,” Jet said, scanning the area. Blaster rays lit up the air, striking the sand and the Trans-AM. Ghoul and Jet opened fire, taking out as many dracs as they could.

“Keep the Girl safe, Kobra!” I shouted as I ran. Korse went after me first—he knew exactly who I was. Jet got knocked out by a drac with a bottle, but Fun Ghoul kept firing, then ran to check on him. Party charged toward Korse, aiming his blaster, but had to retreat when he got shot at. Two dracs grabbed my arms, holding me back as Korse stood there, smug.

“Your little girl is coming with us, Y/N,” Korse sneered, using my real name—one I hadn’t heard since I left the city. “I don’t want to hurt you, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

“You’re not taking her!” I struggled against the dracs. “We won’t let you!”

“We?” Korse smirked. “You and your little band of Killjoys? Look around—they’re all down. You’re lucky we haven’t killed anyone yet.” The dracs dragged the Girl over, and she kicked and screamed.

A yellow ray cut through the air, dropping the dracs holding me. Party. He was alive.

“Party Poison! Get the Girl to the car!” Korse shouted as the surviving draculoids swarmed her. Party dodged Korse’s shots, inching closer. I managed to break free, fumbling to pull out my blaster. But Korse was faster, firing at me and missing deliberately. I dashed toward the others, watching as Party and Korse exchanged fire, each dodging the other’s shots. Finally, Korse knocked Party’s mask into the sand, then made his escape, driving off in the Trans-AM.

“Party? Are you okay?” I asked, crawling over to him. He lay motionless, not making a sound. “Party!” I screamed. For a second, I thought he was dead. I felt like I might throw up.

“Vinyl, I’m okay,” he groaned, reaching out to hold my hand.

“You saved me back there… You didn’t have to. You could’ve been killed—”

“I’ll always choose you. You should know that by now,” he chuckled weakly, coughing as he sat up.

“Jet, Ghoul, you guys okay?” I called, helping Party to his feet.

“I’m alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ghoul groaned, rubbing his back. His vest had a fresh smoking hole where he’d been hit.

“Me too,” Jet called, grabbing his blaster. I looked over at the Trans-AM, where Kobra lay unconscious. Party rushed over to his brother, helping him sit up as Jet fetched some water. Once we were sure Kobra was okay, the weight of what had just happened hit me. I felt sick.

One minute I was standing in the desert, and the next, everything went black. The last thing I saw was Party running toward me before I collapsed into someone’s arms.

Bright lights. The diner. Party lying next to me. Kobra sitting above us. The Girl. Gone. I sat up as fast as I could, obviously scaring the hell out of Party, who fell off the mattress.

“The Girl! Kobra, where is she?” I shouted, looking around, tears burning in my eyes. “Where is she!?” I screamed. A pair of arms wrapped around me, holding me back. Jet and Fun ran into the room, worried looks on their faces.

“Shit, is she okay?” Fun asked, sitting next to Kobra, who shook his head.

“Where is she? I’m going to kill you, Kobra,” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. He just sat there, expressionless.

“Hush, calm down, Vinyl. Breathe,” I heard Party say softly. I looked up and found him, kissing my temple.

“I won’t be calm, Party! She’s gone. My—my niece. She thinks I hate her. She’s my only family, and she doesn’t even know it. She’s like my daughter,” I wept.

“Don’t you think she’s like my daughter too, Vinyl? I spend all my time with the Girl, trying to convince her that you don’t hate her,” Kobra muttered. He had no right to say that to me. My sister might’ve loved him, and I might love his brother, but he was supposed to protect her. He was in charge of her.

“I’m going to get her,” I tried to wriggle out of Party’s arms, but he held me tighter. “Let me go, P. I’m calm,” I said, looking at him.

“You’re not going to get her. We’re going to make a plan. Together. In a few days, we’ll find her and bring her back. In the meantime, we’ll take shifts to look after you. I’m not letting you stay up alone, and I know you’re not going to sleep—not after this,” Party said as he gently let me go, helping me sit down on our shared mattress.

“We’ll find her, Vinyl. I promise,” Kobra said, sitting down next to me. “It’s going to be okay. And if we don’t find her, then we’ll end up dusted trying.” He wiped the tears from my face before getting up and heading into the diner with Jet and Fun to start planning.

Party lay down next to me, facing me. I stayed quiet, lost in my thoughts. She thinks I hate her. She doesn’t even know we’re family. She’s probably so scared. They’re probably experimenting on her right now.

“Vinyl, breathe. She’s going to be okay. We raised her right. She knows how to look after herself,” he said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“She thinks I hate her, Party. I can’t live knowing that she thinks I hate her,” I murmured, pressing my face into his chest. He pulled me closer.

“She knows you love her, V. I know she does. We were just talking a few days ago about you. She was asking about us, about you. Asked what you were like before she arrived. Asked if you and I were in love with each other. She notices everything between us, everything about you. Kobra and I sat her down, and we had a big conversation about you. Told her that you did like her but that she reminded you of someone you lost. The Girl understood, V. She understood. And I know she still does. She knows we’re going to come for her,” he said, cupping my face and making me look into his eyes.

“God, how is it that you always know exactly what to say to me, Party Poison? It’s like you’re made for me,” I smiled.

“Because we are made for each other,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead and wrapping his arms around me affectionately. “We’re going to find her, V, I promise. And when we do, we’re going to tell her the truth about who she is.”

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[cursedcola]

TWST: The Hall Of Mirrors - Baby Update, January 24’

ART:

Guys I don’t think I’m going to be able to put art in the game because I lack a tablet. As much as I want to, it would require making *way* too many images.

So, I’m making the TW game a pure piece of interactive fanfiction as a text-based game only. I’ve poured so many hours into it and I think I would rather go extend the plot/add on details so you can visualize it rather than stress anymore about putting art in. I know I said previously that I was taking time off from it, but I actually spent a good chunk of my free time last month trying to get art to scan in. Twine does not like imagery. No, no it does not.

So I’m just going to take a wee bit more time and make the plot more detailed. I also really want to get back to writing more here >_<

PLOT:

Like I said, I’m taking more time to add in detail. Without art I feel that it needs more to make the visuals pop.

AUDIO:

I haven’t given up on this bit quite yet. Since this is a fan game that isn’t getting monetized or anything, I don’t feel the need to make original music. I’ll see if I can find anything I like enough to fit the vibes

~ On that note, this is the last written update I’m giving. I might post some pictures when I feel it's in a good place, or ask if anyone would like to test the game out (catch any technical errors or bugs)….but yeah, I’m pretty much done now? I think? Hard to believe I’ve slowly been writing this since July. It’ll be weird to not work on it anymore, but also nice since I want to write other things hehe. I will say that this is the biggest thing I have ever made for any fandom, and I hope it's something I can look back on fondly.

(Small rant below about the art because I’m me and my perfectionism demands I offer an explanation)

Like, I did the math and it just isn’t feasible to do with what I have sadly. The game was going to have 15cgs for each route’s climax. I also got a bit crazy and even did base sketches for 15 cga for the after endings without really thinking about how rough it was going to be. You can customize your Mc by their clothing, body size, eye color, hair length and color, and hair type. If I had a tablet then I could make a singular CG as the base, and then basically make a bunch of copies where I make small changes so that the proper combination will pop up depending on the choices you made. It would have took a long time but I could have done it - although using a quick combination showed that there were hundreds of different possible combinations.

I mean, there are 2 clothing options, 4 body types, 8 eye colors, 4 hair types, 4 hair lengths, and i think 6 hair colors if I remember right. I also put in customization features that have you answer Q’s that I can’t predict to edit the cg with. Regardless that’s 2X4X8X4X4X6 = 6,144 possible combinations for ONE cg. That’s kind of rough even with a tablet, so without one is just like…death. It would be 2x4x4x4 = 128 different iterations of the image (as things that are not just color changes that can be quickly altered). That’s 128 versions of 15 images. That’s 1,920 drawings. Even if they were going to be in a very simple artstyle, heck even a sketch, it’s not feasible.

I love Otomes and have always wanted to play one where your customized MC is featured in the cgs. Making a game like that is one of my life goals - but not for a fan game. If I’m doing that then it’s going to be an original work.

I’m sorry for hyping it up and making false promises. I really did want to make it happen for my mini fangame, but this is kinda just my little side project and stressing over it was zapping the fun away. So now we’re going back to plan A and just sticking to a text game >_<

[synthshenanigans]

woah hey a year has been passed wowie :0

First two weren't posted here cos they were too long ago & not CJish related but love the way he took up 70% of the year lol

[ Full images + templates below :} ]

[TW for Bright Colors, maybe blood & very very vague themes of depression/suicide for like 2 drawings I believe]

Long text about the arts if anyones actually curious!!

January: An old OC I completely forgot about until making this. He's based on old radio like things :}

February: Played Person 5 Royal last year & drew Joker cos idk he's neat. Fun fact, the same day I fully finished the game was the day Storm & a Spring came out. Also while grinding in the game, I had his Bidding & VoaC covers on repeat. Which was a bit annoying to do since they weren't on Spotify yet & YT on mobile didn't have looping then.

March: The Hawaii Part ii album cover :} I did post that eventually but that's the time I actually made it. Had listened to TME a couple of months before then which got me into the album, so months later I drew it cos why not? [Also the month Vol.1 fully released on everything. What's funny is my gallery for that day was a handful of memes I saved at 4am before I fell asleep. And then the next image saved is when I woke up which was a screenshot of the whiteboard in TfaR lol]

April: First main Jash art !!! And its not even with any of the songs from Vol. 1 lol. I had his Moss cover on repeat again & now that all of Vol. 1 was out, I drew Heart in some moss. Or really in the image from the video.

May: Lil animation I made of Heart with the song Don't Hit the Lights! Link to my post & the song can be found here :}. Still really like the song & even the drawings. Might remake em eventually idk

June: Sky/socialc1imb's Clue AU! I like murder mysteries & this one was real interesting so I drew it a lot lol. Might remake that one or one of the others I made at somepoint? It'll be a bit later if I do but ye

July: A redraw of a HMS piece I originally made back in May, based on the Three Wise Monkeys thing. I like the idea of it so I keep wanting to remake it.

August: I honestly can't remember if I posted that art or not. Actually yea I don't think I ever did PFFT. It's one of the few drawings I did of myself this year & its from CJs Not Perfect cover [as you can tell by the lyrics on it]. Also one of the very very few vent-ish arts I made. I like the background more than anything but its still neat ig?

September: Art for one of the best songs ever. I love Fine, I'm Fine its so good & I listened to it for like 70% of the 20+ hours it took me to make the drawing. Still proud of it so there's the sketch I drew on paper, the one on my tablet & then the final versions.

October: There was a lot from this month due to Jashtober. I still like this one lot & it wasn't insanely rushed so I picked this one to show lol.

November: I have no idea why I made a fun lil soul. I was having an identity crisis over my art style & ig decided to draw the guy who is a walking identity crisis/j

December: Same as September. One of my favorite songs ever was covered & released, so I made a drawing like everyone else lol.

[dandunn]

I made an art influence map because @nblemons did it and I wanted to do it too!!

Template here

Honorable mentions/guys I couldnt fit on here: Yume Nikki, SamSketchbook, Monkey Punch, Wolf's Rain, Cowboy Bebop, Henri Matisse, Noda Satoru, Osamu Tezuka.

There are probably more but I've already spent way too long on this lol.

Wanna talk about them all briefly:

Watership Down: no duh. This movie imprinted on me from a very young age and made me way more of a furry than I already was. I always liked how realistic the designs were compared to mainstream rabbit designs which focus on the 'cuteness' of the animal. I think it's dumb because rabbits are kind of stroppy violent jerks and I like them for that.

Aboriginal Art: this is kind of related to Watership Down because I took a lot of inspiration from the intro and the almost cave-painting like designs. It took me way too long to discover that what was so grabbing about that into was that it was inspired by Aboriginal artwork! I hope this is okay to say because I'm neither Aboriginal or even australian and a lot of the cultural meaning is lost on my dumb ass, but I think the shapes, techniques and colours are wonderful. Painting I used in the pic is by Charlene Carrington

Lorne Lanning: is the main designer for the Oddworld series of games and I wish more people knew about him because his character designs and conceptual art are just fantastic and gripped me from a very young age. And he made a game where you play as a cowboy who shoots bugs at people!

Spyro reignited: dragons are hot.

Spirited Away: I love Miyazaki's entire filmography but Spirited Away really had a grip on me one particular summer in school, the same one where I learned how to use watercolour paints, and I think it had more of an influence over my art than the others for some reason. It's a very summer-y movie to me with very bright colours.

Edmund McMillen: probably more well known as 'that guy who made Super Meat Boy' I've always loved the cartoony yet grotesque imagery in the Binding of Isaac which I am about to clock in 1000 hours on on my steam account. Another game of his which really got to me was Aether from the Basement Collection. Watching his segment in Indie Game the Movie and how he translated his fucked up upbringing into fun, heartrending and addictive games really inspired me.

Animal Well: I only just played this game for the first time this year which is why I made it very small but idk what else I have to say other than 'just fucking LOOK at it'.

Frida Kahlo: I did a project on her for school which involved watching a movie about her life which was both fascinating and tragic. Her surreal art can be both bright and evocative and also downright tearjerking.

Pokemon: whenever I'm designing a character I have Pokemon in mind, say what you want about certain designs but Ken Sugimori and all the other artists who have contributed over the years really have the talents to make a cute, fearsome or oddball guy you want to go on adventures with.

William Turner: another one from my school days and an artist from my own country. I always loved the colours and sweeping brushstrokes.

Eiichiro Oda: Yeah man what can you say about One Piece. When I was about 15 and having daily meltdowns, copying the expressions on his characters really helped me figure out how I was feeling. Oda is a menace but good lord he can draw.

David Hockney: When I was also in school I attended an exhibition of his which was basically "im retired and I can draw whatever I want now" with blown up ipad sketches and these strange landscapes with fauvist colours. I thought some of it was dumb at the time but looking back I really admire his use of colours and the looser movements compared to his older work.

Masahiro Ito: Creator of Pyramid Head, Bubble Head Nurse and 'Honey Butter Fuck Toast'. The man, the legend, the 'this is fuck' guy. His blend of the grimy industrial, bloody, monstrous and sexual is so fantastic. I feel like I should also put francis bacon here because most modern horror artists owe everything to him, but god I love Silent Hill and the imagery this man created will live on in my brain forever.

[thechaotictheoryy]

Unravel | 4. Butterflies On A Rainy Day

summary: What if you had chains around your heart but you were the one who put them there? If you took a look at Parker’s heart, you would see a nice beating heart but Parker felt there were heavy metal chains wrapped it. After years of a disconnected relationship with her parents and a hard break up with her boyfriend of four years, Parker Williams made her heart mentally chained. Declaring to never fall in love again but what happens when she meets a witty musician who is all about seeking love?

pairing: main character x Hongjoong ft. ex! Yeosang

genre: (18+ minors dni), romance, fluff, lots of angst, coming to age, college au, smut, strangers to lovers, self discovery

word count: 5,559

chapter warnings: no major warnings but Hongjoong and Parker finally talk face to face.. it's cute

song rec for this chapter: Blah Blah by The Boyz

Monday October 11th, 2021. 

I drew in my notebook as I attempted to pay attention to my professor lecture the class about the importance of symmetric lines in paintings. I swear this Drawing Three course had to be the most boring class in the whole art department. I needed another day to just relax, Friday really made my brain shut down completely. Dealing with that in my mind, I still didn’t know what I wanted to paint for my midterm grade. I didn’t have Mr. Cook till tomorrow but I think I might go to the studio after all classes are done. I need to get my stuff back on track, I need to stop letting something so small make my brain so discombobulated. 

“That’s all for today, we will have a test on Friday so make sure to study. You are dismissed”

All you heard was the sound of chairs rubbing the ground and everyone walking out, some having conversation with each other. I checked my watch and saw it was only 12:45 and my last class wasn’t until two o’clock. I texted Sarah and told her to meet me at the food court which she replied in agreement. As I walked out the building, I felt the sun’s heat touch my skin. It was a little breezy today so it wasn’t that hot outside which was perfect to eat in. 

A lot of people were outside today and guess it was because of how it felt out here. It was a nice sight for my artistic vision and it made me think about what I possibly wanted to paint about for this damn midterm. Mr. Cook always had high expectations for me because I have a lot of self doubt but my pieces always turn out so good in his eyes. He said I reminded him of the bright half moon on a starless night. He compared me to that because I saw half of my potential but when I’m in my zone, I feel like I’m the only one in the room. The stars were my classmates but when it’s starless, I saw no one in my way. 

I thought that compliment was unique and I had never been told that before. As I thought about that, the image of that guy who had the split hair came into my head while also having the sound of the guy  sounding like dripping honey rang in my ears. I stopped in my tracks and my eyes widened. 

I had a vision. 

I knew what I was going to paint. 

I texted Sarah and told her I would see her in class tomorrow. I walked fast to where my next class was going to be. My mind was creating the lines and the sketch of how I wanted the painting to flow while my fingers could feel what colors I wanted to mix and how gently I wanted my paintbrush to touch that canvas. I walked into the classroom and saw no one, I quickly walked to a desk and took out my sketchbook and started to draw. My eyes darted all around the paper as the tip of my pencil kept gilding around. I couldn't see anything and all outside noises were caught off. All my senses were into this drawing. 

I felt someone tap my shoulder twice and I looked up to see Dr. Gregson, my professor for my last class. I checked my watch to see it was already two o’clock. I had already been drawing for over an hour and didn’t even realize that time was passing right by me. He laughed a little and so did the rest of my classmates. 

“Everyone arrived around ten minutes ago but you were so focused and you didn’t hear anything.”

“I’m sorry” I quickly closed my sketchbook. 

I don’t even know what the end result of it was. I was paying attention to my lines that I didn’t even know what I drew. I hope it came out good because I only had about four days to get something done but I didn’t want it to be meaningless. My paintings always come from somewhere within my chained heart. It was like when the coldness on a bottle of water slowly starts to turn into a thin layer of water. That was how my heart worked with art. I wanted to get to the studio as soon as possible so I could start painting while this was hot in my brain. I felt like the class was going by so painfully slow because of my desire to leave so quickly. As the hour went on, I couldn’t help but stare at the clock. It felt like the whole room was just silent as I could hear the ticking noise so loud and clearly. 

“Alright, we’ll meet back on Friday so please study for the quiz. You are all dismissed.” 

As soon as I heard the words dismissed, I ran out of the classroom. I’m so smart for taking my art supplies and canvas to the studio this morning. I give the past me such a pat on the back. My feet just kept moving and all I could hear was the noise of my necklaces hitting each other against my chest. I was determined and I was going to make one of the best pieces I ever made. That was a promise I made to myself in my head. 

I had no idea why this meant so much to me, I didn’t understand why my will was so strong to get this done. Was I just hurrying so I could pass my midterm grade? Did I not want to disappoint Mr. Cook with some shitty painting that I could throw together? Or was it because…

My heart was burning with some much passion and desire to make me fall in love with art all over again? 

I smiled to myself as I made my way inside my building. I started speed walking to the classroom studio and as I got inside, I got my colors together. I walked over to my canvas and took out my sketchbook. I flipped to the page I sketched on. My eyes widened at what I had drawn on, I couldn’t believe I made something like this. It was the first time I had ever shocked myself and I knew it wouldn’t be my last as an aspiring painter. 

I took off the sleeveless vest I had on which left me in my black tank top and went to let two of the windows up. I walked back to my canvas and started on my piece. The sound of my brush moving and the birds chirping outside was music to my ears. Half of the population of  painters need music to help them set the mood but all I needed was the sound of surrounding things that were happening naturally. I was in my zone, I didn’t want to leave till I finished this and I was determined to get it done. 

Before I knew it, I saw the moon shining through the room. I was almost done with my piece. I put down my brush and stretched my body a little. I walked towards the window and looked up at the stars. Nights in LA were always magical to me. I wondered if everyone got to enjoy this all over the world. I remembered when Mr. Cook asked me what my dream was. 

I wanted to see the starry night in all the counties in the world. Of course he laughed because I was a 17 year old freshman who had a lot of drive and wanted to do everything in my head but he never told me it was impossible. He believed in me and that’s just what I always wanted. 

My parents didn’t support my dream. They wanted me to find a 9 to 5 job and settle down here in California. I wanted to prove to them that this wasn’t some childish dream I had to be a painter, it was something that I was serious about. I was too artistic for a regular job. I had too much drive to settle. I wanted to make it to Seoul and live there while making my work known internationally. 

Last year, I studied abroad in Seoul and it was one of the beautiful places that I visited. Of course, it wasn’t perfect but it was so unique. The culture, the scenery of both the city and countryside, the nightlife, and my Korean friends that I made while being there. I also visited the art museums while I was there and.. It was just such a boost to my mind. It gave me all of the reason to move there and try to get accepted into one of the art institutes.  I was saving my money as I speak but if I could get my work known a little sooner before I graduate, that would be great in my favor. Luckily, I didn’t have anyone holding me back from accomplishing my goals. 

I walked back over to my painting and continued to work on it. I was determined to finish this tonight while this feeling of pure bliss was running through my veins. I hope Mr. Cook got it and the rest of my classmates too. Having people relate to my work or understanding it made me feel so good. I think even when I get those people who don’t understand but try their best to, it makes me feel good also. Art is a thinking process, you might not get the message the first time you look at a piece but it will eventually come to you. 

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I took it out to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Parker, where the hell are you?” Nicole’s worried voice rang in my ear. 

“I’m at the studio, I’ll be in the room in about an hour”

“Shit, we haven’t heard from you all day so we thought something happened” Kayla yelled. 

“No, I been in here since around 2:30”

“Well damn, we’ll let you continue. Make sure to stop somewhere on campus to get food” Nicole slightly nagged at me. 

“Yes ma’am,” I laughed a little. 

I hang up and put my phone back in my pocket. I ran my fingers through my curls and continued to add finishing touches and add ons. The color palette I made for this piece was definitely different from my other work. I was into dark and neutral tones but this was bright and gave warmth like the sun. I was hoping that it made people feel warm like when you drink a cup of tea with tablespoons of honey. 

Instead of an hour, it took another two because of the detailing that I was fixing. I did text my loving roommates to let them know I was still at the studio. I checked the time to see it was ten minutes past one o’clock in the morning, I had been painting for over ten hours. That is a new record time I just set and I’m shocked myself. The last time I was in the zone like this, I painted for at least six hours straight. I put the canvas on the drying rack and turned it backwards so no one could take a look at it. I put a little note on the back saying “Don’t touch unless you want Parker to hunt you down”. Hopefully everyone will take this seriously. 

I started cleaning up my stations and washing all of my supplies off. I made sure to close all the windows and I realized I was smiling as I was cleaning up. That means I was satisfied and proud of the work I put in. It’s not a rare thing to see me smile but after painting, it was to some people. I packed up everything and left the building. I was ready for Thursday and ready for everyone to lay eyes on what I had done. 

The warm wind hit me as I made my way out the door. I looked around the side of campus I was on to see most of all the food places were closed. I guess tonight was going to be ramen, good thing I went to buy some shin ramen yesterday. Nicole and Kayla were probably going to want a bowl knowing them. I felt my phone vibrate in my head and I saw it was Danielle calling me. I sighed and tried to debate if I should answer, she recently has been coming over a lot. I need some space and I don’t think she was catching the hints. 

“Yes Danielle” I answered, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“No” Yes, Yes I have. 

“Parker, I been texting you for the past two days and you haven’t been answering back”

“I needed some space”

“Communicate that, don’t go around thinking I need you” 

Ouch. “I never thought that”

“Good, now you hit me up next time you want to link”

“Got you”

She hung up and I rolled my eyes. I don’t want her thinking I need her because that’s not the case and  I guarantee she knows I can drop her if  I wanted to. I think this is why I lack vulnerability, I have to deal with girls like this who thought they had power over me because of sex. I thought Danielle was one of those girls I didn’t have to worry about and she never acted like this before until recently, it was weird. Do I ask her about it? Do I just leave it alone? Should I keep avoiding her to the best of my ability? All different questions ran through my head but I could never find the right answer. I don’t think the right thing was to think about it so hard at the moment, I need to worry about getting some food into my stomach that kept growling at me. It sounded like it was telling me it was going to start eating my insides if I didn’t feed it soon.

I’m so ready for Thursday. 

I put down my brush as I just finished putting my hair into a puff. I ran my hands down my skirt to make sure I didn’t have any wrinkles in it. I felt like Thursday came by too fast and I was super nervous to present my project. I’m not usually the anxious type but I went in super deep about this piece especially with the description I had written for it. Mr. Cook always wanted us to dress up on presentation days because he wanted us to prepare like our artwork was being shown in a gallery, which is why he always sets up presentation day in the school’s art gallery. The dedication of this man to keep our drive going is insane but I appreciated him to the fullest. 

I grabbed my bookbag after I slipped on my blazer, I decided to go the comfortable route and wear flats. I checked my watch and saw it was thirty minutes past nine. I guess I could get some coffee on the way to the gallery. I made my way out of the suite, it was a quiet morning. Both of my suitemates went home for the day since their classes got canceled, it must be nice to live near the school. After I had got into school, my parents relocated to the suburbs in Philadelphia. Their only daughter upsets them because of her career so they move to the other side of the country to make it harder for me to come home. 

Their dream for me was to be a lawyer, not my dream. Both of my parents are attorneys and they wanted their kid to follow in their footsteps but they wanted me to be bigger. They wanted me to have my own law firm. All the summers as a kid I went to tour law firms with them, going to work with them sometimes, and they would even make me watch court cases on Youtube. It was neve wrecking and I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders. When I was in seventh grade, I won my first art competition that I signed up for and my parents were not excited or proud of me. They took the five hundreds that I won and put it towards me going to a law camp that I went to for four summers. 

Secretly for the next four years after that, I kept entering art competitions and of course I didn’t win every single one but I won a few. All the money that I won from them, I put in my savings or use the money to buy me things in highschool. When I turned sixteen, I told my parents I wanted to be an internationally known painter. That was the first time I saw fear in my parents’ eyes. In their heads, I ruined my dream and my future with such a childish career. They don’t believe I’ll make it anywhere and I was determined to prove them wrong. 

While I still lived with them, they barely acted like I existed. They made sure I was fed and had money to take care of myself my last two years of highschool but after that I was on my own. They didn’t pay for me to get into school, I’m simply here on a full ride because I worked my ass off. If I wasn’t going to an ivy league law school, they were not putting their money towards it at all. 

I saw the line at the coffee shop and decided to just skip it. I made my way towards the gallery which was just another five minute walk. Thinking about what I've been through with my parents makes me sad sometimes but you can’t dwell on things that you have no control over. Hopefully, they will come around one day. I feel like the only people who support me are my grandparents on both sides. They always send me money to make sure I’m good and luckily they both still reside here in California so I stay at either house on my breaks. 

I made it to the gallery and walked inside, Mr. Cook already had signs going to where our class was going to be. I walked  into the gallery and saw that most of the class was here. I saw the paintings displayed around the room and I tried my best not to stare at mine too long. On Tuesday, Mr. Cook told us not to sign our portraits because we would have to guess who was the painter of each other as a class. The actual painter had to act clueless like everyone else and make guesses. I thought the idea was pretty cool and I wanted to hear everyone's raw thoughts about each other's pieces. The last few of my classmates made their way inside and everyone went to put their bags on the bench. I think everyone looked pretty nice.

“I think that’s everyone, we can get started” Mr. Cook said, looking at everyone. 

We started going around to the different portraits and I swear I had some talented ass classmates. They inspired me to go further especially with how deep they go with the most simple drawing. I had about 15 people in my class and if you met some of them, you wouldn’t think art was their major. You had some who looked like they were working in corporate offices and some who looked like they should be taking over a family business. I guess that’s where that corny line comes from when they say don;t judge a book by its cover. 

An hour had passed and we had already gone through five people. We were analyzing the hell out of these pieces. As we walked over to the next painting… I knew it was mine, just from how bright it was. 

“Wow,” I heard someone say. 

“Wow is the right description for this,” I replied.

My painting was of a guy’s face who had honey spilling from his mouth, ears, and eyes. His eyes were dark brown with a gray undertone which took me forever to blend correctly. He resembled the boy I ran into on my way to the cafe, which was the same day I saw Yeosang. His beauty was breathtaking and I had a photo memory of it. His split dye hair was half black and half blonde but if you close into the details, they were made out of small bees.. The background color was a pumpkin orange and the golden yellow from the honey layered so well on top of it. 

“What do we think the painter is telling us,” Mr. Cook spoke. 

“I think they have a crush on someone” I heard Sarah’s voice. Really now?

“Yeah, this imagery and the details of the guy’s face looks like they took a long time to make sure it looked like someone who was in their head. For example, the eyes are filled with joy and purity. The brown and undertone of gray are well blended. I love this.” my classmate Zach said, pointing at different details he noticed.  I can’t fight you on that one. 

“I also think the painter has a crush, I think the message is about dripping honey. Seeing that the honey only drops from the ears, eyes, and mouth means this guy  symbolizes dripping honey or smooth like dripping honey in the painter’s eyes.” I heard another one of my classmates speak. Say what now? 

This was very interesting to me. I wouldn’t say I have a crush but I just like someone’s physical appearance and als enjoyed a conversation with someone whose voice sounds like dripping honey. Did I have a crush? Were these signs that I could possibly have taken interest in someone I never saw just by hearing their voice? I don’t think any of this could be true, my heart was too chained up to just break free that easily. Crushing is child-like and breaking down one’s emotions was nothing but people’s opinions. I decided not to talk about the crushing assumption too seriously. The other comments about my piece were mainly on the color palette and someone even noticed the bees. My class really took a liking to that detail and some of them even went as far as saying that it needed an award just based on details. 

“What if it was admiration?” I spoke. 

“How so?” I heard Zach say

“I don’t think having a crush or being in love necessarily has to be the reason for showing so much detail in a painting. I think whoever painted this just simply saw something that they liked and decided to add other key factors that tie together what they were thinking about. Just think about books, people, posters, foods.. Things like these could play into what the painter took from every day and tied them together while doing the draft of what they wanted to create.” 

I heard some people agree and some smack their teeth on how what I said could mean absolute bullshit. I could tell them upfront that I certainly don’t have interest in anyone but that would give me away. 

“I kind of agree with Parker, the person they drew could be from a combination of different people in a way and just made into one person. Also it has been hot outside so bees are so common to see and who doesn’t associate bees with honey” another one my classmates spoke. 

We continued to go on about my piece for another ten minutes before everyone was done analyzing and there wasn’t anything else to say about it. I think mine was the longest painting so far that we took so long to find a conclusion to

“Do you guys want to guess or just want them to reveal themselves?”

“Reveal,” everyone said at once. 

I don’t know why all my nerves rushed to my body, I wondered how they would feel after seeing that this was my painting. They are so used to seeing dark tone pieces from me especially in this past year. I slowly walked to the front and faced everyone. There were different types of reactions. You had the “I knew it” faces, some were shocked, and a few had confusion written in their eyes. Sarah was a combination of shocked and confused. 

“Parker? But this palette,” I heard one of them say. 

“I know, I kind of wanted to try something different. At first, I was going to use a dark tone palette but the vision didn’t look right when I was blending colors,” I spoke. 

We continued to talk about my painting for another fifteen minutes, they were more compliments than anything though. I appreciated it and I loved even some of the criticism I got back. A few tried to get personal but I kept changing the subject or Sarah would help me with doing so. We had moved on and for another hour, we went through the rest of the class. I had about three favorites and of course, one of them wasn’t my own. I would put some of these in a gallery before the one I painted ever had the chance. I really enjoy looking at other concepts and tones, it made me want to try something different or get an idea for something I would do in the future. 

We had some closing remarks and Mr. Cook told us he would take all the paintings back to the studio. We did offer some help but he just ended class and told us to have a nice relaxing day, he could kind of tell some of us were anxious and nerves were a little wrecked due to pressure. A teacher who cares is a teacher who deserves the world, Mr. Cook was definitely one of those teachers. 

Everyone started to exit the building and we all noticed that it was raining outside. I’m glad I always carried an umbrella with me. It was a little unexpected considering that Southern California barely gets rain. I said my goodbyes to everyone and made my way out. I looked around at the scenery of the campus and the rain made it look like a beautiful scene from a movie, minus the palm trees. I didn’t know what I was going to do for the rest of today because Mr. Cook’s class was the only one I had today. I should probably catch up on some sleep or watch anime. I would go to The Quad and draw at one of the tables but the water coming out of the sky altered my plans. As I continued to look around, I felt a force hit my shoulder and it made me jerk. 

“My fault, I’m sorry” 

I turned around and I immediately froze as the person I bumped into turned around. It was the guy  I bumped into on my way to the cafe about a week ago. His hair was up in a ponytail with some loose hairs hanging out the side and he wore some glasses that sat a little on his nose. 

“No, it was all me,” he said, slowly looking at me. 

My eyes widened at his voice. The dripping voice that rang in my ear, he sounded just like he did the first time I saw him but he also sounded like the guy from the blind dating. I wanted to question him but my mouth couldn’t form the words because his dark brown  eyes were so breathtaking and staring me in my soul again. 

“I feel like I recognize you somehow” he said, which made me panic a little. 

“Uh..um, we bumped into each other before”

“No, like your voice.. Did you go to that speed dating thing?” 

“I might have,” I rubbed my neck. Parker, just be fucking honest asshole. 

“Maybe, I was mistaken. Sorry,” he gave me a small smile then started to walk away. 

When would I ever see him again? I don’t believe in fate but this is the third time he has been in my presence. Was this a sign? Was he meant to meet me like this or was it just a slight coincidence? As the rain poured, my mind was all over the place about this present situation. How should I think about this? What should I do? This school was big but it was small at the same time. Should I just wait for the fourth time to see if it was meant to be?

But if the fourth time never came?

“Is the weather like this in Seattle nowadays?”

He turned around and his smile was bigger than the one he was about to leave me with. I didn’t want it to vanish from his  face, that’s how pretty it was. He tilted his head to look at the sky then his eyes made their way back to me.

“A little more heavier”

We laughed and his laugh was like music to my ears. I didn’t understand what I was feeling and as inevitably as it was, I didn’t mind it at all. For the first time in about two years, I had this weird feeling in my stomach. It felt like little birds but I knew they weren't birds, they were something much smaller. 

“I’m Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong,” He walked towards me. 

“Parker. Parker Williams.” 

“Well Parker, let’s go into this coffee shop  so we won’t be drenched” 

I nodded and we walked together to the small café  that was just up ahead. He told me he was going to get us some tea and I suggested I find us a table. I was a little nervous, especially since I kind of ran out on him the last time we spoke to each other.  I watched him interact with the person behind the counter. He had this vibe to him that just made me feel so anxious around him, not in a bad way but in a way like I didn’t want to run him off. I looked at the way he was dressed and he definitely was a creator of some type, he definitely gave off that he worked with music or a writer. The black color of his jacket and the light tan color of his pants went so well with his hair. You can tell that his style is simple but it was clean at the same time. I had time now to take in how he looked and things that he reminded me of. After a few minutes, he came back with our tea. 

“Here you go,” he handed me my cup and a few sugars in case I needed it. 

“Thank you” 

“Now Miss Parker”, he crossed her arms. I kind of knew where this was about to go and I was still kind of shy about the topic. 

“Yeah?”

“Why did you run off on me like that?”

“I don’t really know how to answer that”

“Well you could just be honest and I’ll be a little more open to you” 

That’s the thing, I didn’t want to be honest with you. I didn’t want you to think I’m a pathetic person who still thinks about their shitty ex-boyfriend. I didn’t want to open up my heart to anyone, I didn’t want to be vulnerable. Vulnerability and me were not a good mix. It was like eating spicy food then drinking a whole bottle of tequila. The feeling of both made me vomit and I hate that feeling. 

“I just had a bad feeling about something,” I said. 

“Bad feeling?”

“Just something in my gut told me to leave, that’s the only way I could put it. I also had a midterm project to finish”

He looked at me with a slight side eye but smiled and drank his tea. He was a pusher but not a pusher that tried to break you but one that wanted you to reassure him on things that he was curious about. It wasn’t annoying but it just made him a little more intimidating. 

“I won’t press you on the issue but if we are going to start a friendship, I appreciate honesty” 

“You want to be friends with me?” I watched him add some honey in his cup. How ironic?

“Why wouldn’t I want to be? You were my favorite person to talk to through that whole speed dating shit”

He was also my favorite person to talk to through that whole thing but should I admit that? I don’t know why I was so in my head about this. He just wanted to talk to me and get to know me. I think because he’s been constantly on my mind since I talked to him, it was making me nervous. Nervous that he wanted more from me than what I had to offer and it made me even more anxious because…

What if I wanted more?

Taglist: @hwaslayer

previous. next.

[hvnnibalecter]

SKETCHBOOKS AND DREAMS. | A.H

CHARACTERS : Artistic Director/CEO!Aaron Hotchner.

RATING : fluff, i guess.

A/N : The mad creativity is striking again. Big thank you to @hoe4hotchner for letting me rant about my ideas. English isn't my first language, so it is possible that there is some grammatical errors along the way. divider is from @cafekitsune, icon is from @ssa-sapphic . No use of Y/N.

summary : Aaron Hotchner knew that it wouldn't be easy to become have his own clothing brand, the world of fashion was cruel, but he wasn't the kind of guy who gave up on his dreams.

Aaron Hotchner had always spent more time drawing on notebooks, busy looking at the curves of a body rather than listening to his teachers. He dreamed of becoming a fashion designer, despite the almost disgusted look of his father who found the bottle of whiskey more interesting than him. Despite the looks, the mockery of his classmates when they saw the drawings, Aaron was sure of one thing: if he gave himself the means, he could become someone important in the world of fashion, he just had to continue to preserve to achieve his dream. Work, again and again, try to find his way in a world that he knew was merciless.

Like a mad artist, Aaron had settled in an old apartment in Paris, he had paid for the first three months and the man with his more than pronounced French accent and his graying beard had watched him almost with suspicion. He had money, at least, enough to pay his rent, eat and pay for his studies. Aaron had sent sketches to a famous French fashion house, he hadn't had much hope and had waited in front of his computer for hours before sighing, they were never going to answer, why did he continue to think otherwise? However, a few hours later, while he was leaning over yet another sketch, he had heard the sound of an email coming into his computer. Aaron had almost jumped and nearly knocked over his cup of coffee, he had opened the email and felt his heart stop beating for a split second.

Mr. Hotchner,

In view of your more than obvious talent, we are offering you an internship in our workshops in Paris. I will have you escorted by a driver tomorrow morning, at nine thirty.

Remember to take your notebooks and your essentials and please be on time.

CHANEL.

He had spent almost two years in the workshops at Chanel where he had learned the rigor necessary to become a couturier worthy of the name. Between two "classes" as his mentor called him, he took the time to settle into a corner with his notebooks as well as his drawing kit that he continued to complete each week Aaron had discovered very interesting art stores even if rather expensive near the Beaux Arts

After two years in the Chanel workshops, he then went as an intern at Louis Vuitton where he had inspected the famous trunks with precision, the know-how of the house was no longer to be proven In all, he had spent exactly five years in Paris where he had attended fashion week with enthusiasm, thanks to "VIP" badges, he had shaken hands with emblematic figures of fashion, he had also rubbed shoulders with the very private circle of the ultra-rich where we chatted around caviar, champagne while wearing a dress that cost two years of average salary

It was when he was thirty that Aaron Hotchner decided to launch his own label, but he was not content to simply be the designer, he had become the leader, he made every decision. ARES had become an iconic brand of American fashion, on a par with Oscar de la Renta or Rick Owens.

He was comfortably seated in his living room, a luxurious apartment in New York with a glass of champagne in his hand. He was dressed of course in his own brand, a two-piece suit. It could almost have been basic but all his art was in the details, the sleeves of the suit were delicately decorated with blue and red snakes. The precious stones sparkled under the light of his living room. ARES was a brand, but it was also the innovative genius of Aaron Hotchner who pushed the boundaries of fashion again and again. The ovations at his shows made the headlines of the world press. Luxurious men's suits, exclusive collaborations with high-end jewelry houses, and a special Halloween capsule collection for children that had made headlines on social media. A subtle blend of elegance with a modern touch, a touch of madness according to some. Everyone wanted to be dressed by Aaron Hotchner.

Aaron continued to drink his glass of champagne while scrolling through ARES's Instagram page. Maybe it was time to start designing the next collection, he might have an idea, crazy but an idea. Why would he deprive himself of sending an email to Disney to see if they wanted to do a collaboration? Aaron knew he could make unique pieces that were on par with some masterpieces, young adults from the jet set would jump on the eight hundred dollar sweatshirts.

[diy-fire-water-pups]

(( I feel the need to come here now and ask some people to be more considerate. ))

(( I created this blog for fun on my SPARE time, which is little to none because I need to worry about getting money constantly so I can eat. Not to make it everyone's problem but I literally haven't eaten anything today yet and it's currently 6:30 PM as I'm publishing this post right now. There is food at home but it's just one option, which I'm so tired of eating it constantly for being one of the cheapest things to buy, it doesn't satisfy me anymore and we're just halfway through the month. I don't have any source of secure income and I got four other mouths to feed ASIDE OF MY OWN. I am constantly overworked with my underpaid part time job as English teacher because neither my father or younger brother can help me checking these homeworks or exams, they don't know English language like I do, and I still need to balance that with drawing for commissions, which are the only way I got to get money during the month. My father is too old to get hired for anything. My brother is still finishing college, if only that shit would end their strike to continue classes so he can graduate still this year and look for a proper job, which will also probably take some time, it's not easy to get a job here.

And it takes a lot of time for me to draw and answer the asks in this blog, usually over 1 hour and half, up to two hours or even longer when there's all three pups + something else they're doing or for the background - that is, if I work on it non-stop, because I usually draw a sketch, it sits there for a few days, until I stop again to clean it up and draw the lineart, then wait a few more days until I go and color it to finish and publish the answered ask. I have some drafts with a doodled answer waiting for a week or even two, still waiting for me to finish the art and post them. I'm having fun with these on my own time.

WITH ALL THAT SAID, I cannot afford Magic!Anons that demand for specific amounts of asks to be worked on, no matter how many. You gotta understand it: If I would start the M!A effect tomorrow, the first ask with that effect would show up like, one whole week AFTER or so. It just does NOT work here. Besides, I have some stories going on in the blog, like this entire thing about Marshall's incoming deafness, which took me what, let me see... Two weeks and half since I replied the first Anon who started it and it's still not done completely yet. I still got another interesting story to start and entertain you all with it, this other one has been waiting sitting in this blog's drafts for literally ONE MONTH now. I'm not gonna interrupt them with side effects.

If you want to dare my pups to do something funny or silly, that's cool! But it'll go for only your dare ask and that's it. I'm not gonna disturb other asks or RPs. Magic!Anons are to be fun and short and sadly I do not have the time to have anything going on for too long like that, not when it's something that changes appearances, or whatever like that.

I am not mad, or angry. I'm just asking for consideration. I am an exhausted and probably currently underweight old artist who just wants to have fun and have some food to go by every day. I'm not a tireless art machine. I'm doing this for fun, every day I wake up I'm glad to have started this askblog and see how much you guys enjoy it and enjoy my portrayal of these pups we love so much, it always makes me smile and feel like I can do some more and keep going, despite all things being against me. But sometimes I need to be firm and say no as well. I have my limits.

Thank you if you read this far. And please, don't ask who was it or what happened, I don't want anyone going after who tried to push this specific M!A here. They're a very nice person who just happened to insist on something I said no before, and I do not condone people attacking others on someone else's behalf, as much as your intention is to defend someone, that's just shitty attitude!

Let's go back to this blog's usual business, shall we? Though now I gotta get back to checking those exams answers, Idk if I'll get time to draw any other reply for tonight, maybe past midnight. I still need to stop and get up to go eat, ugh. ))

[theonethatyaks93]

Sketch Showcase Time!!!

Sooooooooo, these are days two and three of my "Learning How-To Draw Pinky and Brain Phase." And, y'all, I think I found my groove! This is attempt 2 of drawing Pinky:

Already, I'm very pleased with this. I mean, this was my attempt to re-create Pinky's design by @goosieboosie. I'm not a digital artist, so I couldn't capture all the majesty of this design perfectly, but I did a decent job. This style allows me to draw Pinky's face a lot easier, and I can get more creative with facial features. I was really happy when I finished this, I kinda freaked out because, he looks great!! I even drew my gender/sexuality headcanons for Pinky beside him, as well as his signature because, why not? I tried to re-draw this picture a few hours later and I made a new discovery:

Sorry for the blurry pic! But yeah, I think I invented my own unique style!! This is the first version of this; there a few changes from my first re-draw. The main changes are Pinky's eyes being rounder, and his ears a little bit larger. I think the base shape of his head is also a little different. I think he looks so derpy!! I was instantly in LOVE with this updated design, so I decided to draw it again and:

The design is a little different again! And also, my first expression!!!! (Ignore the weird as hell erased Pinky head you see; it was a massive failure and I couldn't erase it all :( ) I really think the Pinky on the left turned out better than I thought!! I love his cute little face and his extra floofy head. The second pic is another kind of model pic, but I added a little tongue because it looked cute. I also added the mind bubble and the little blurb just for added effect. I think he looks cute, what do you guys think?

On day three/attempt 3, I actually doodled a Pinky without looking at a reference in one of my books because I was in school. Here's how it turned out:

I LOVE IT!!!! I was so shocked when I finished with this because I think Pinky looks amazing!! It's not perfect, but when compared to day one, it's like night and day. This is my favorite Pinky I've done so far, and it only took my like 25 minutes; what an improvement when compared to over an hour just for one drawing lol! I've made some small changes here, and I will continue to make changes for the time being. I'm still finalizing my style.

Later on, I did something I'm very proud of:

My first full-body Pinky!! I drew the body first and then added a head in later. I also marked certain areas that I might improve upon later, and little personal touches that I added for fun. Yeah, I think his head is a little too tall, but I'll fix that. I implemented some unique elements such as his muzzle area being based on the OG show, the tufts of fur on his head being longer, the chest fur, his feet being stuffed-animal like, his short legs (which will probably be longer in the future), and his tail being from the reboot. I am currently working on hands; they're just not ready yet. I'm very excited to see my own personal style being formed. I like all the touches I added and I'm excited to maybe work on some screenshot re-draws and other things like that.

Here are some hand sketches. Hand are EXTREMELY HARD for me so I'm trying to get an idea of what I want to do. I was either thinking of the one on the left (larger fingers, rounder shapes) or the one on the right (more angular, slimmer fingers). Idk, which hand style do yo guys think would work better?

I'm very proud of the progression I made on these designs. I'm currently planning on drawing Brain very soon and I will be doing screenshot re-draws, experimenting with changes to eye shape, and more expressions. I'm also writing still (new fic currently a wip), and I'm very excited to be contributing more to the fandom!! Let me know where I can improve and some tips on how to draw their hands. Also, special thanks to @cosmicangel139 for the drawing tips for Brain!! You are amazing and I will definitely keep those tips in mind!!!!

[bmodiwrites]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hi friends! This one is based of a prompt I got sent a couple of days ago. The general gist of it is janitor x workaholic AU. So, here we are! Eddie's a story board editor with nothing to go home to and Steve, well, he's a janitor. This little beauty is filled with cuteness, a few twists, and lots of steddie goodness. Oh, there's some naught stuff, too. Minors, DNI! Check it out here or over on AO3! Let me know what you think in the comments below <3

Dropping the ludicrously expensive color pencil back onto his drawing desk, Eddie reclines back into his chair. He quickly clenches and unclenches his fingers in a desperate attempt to get some blood flow back to them. The sketch before him, a recent episode idea for Epic Kids, is almost perfect – after ten straight hours of work, Eddie is glad to see the thing finally shaping up into what it’s actually supposed to be.

As a story board artist, the demands on Eddie change daily. He doesn’t work for one show or something simple like that. Instead, he works for a company that dabbles in both television and video games. His projects range from children’s shows to multi-million dollar selling video games. No one knew the 90’s would be the time technology blew up – now, so many different game consoles exist, Eddie is never shy on work.

Upon picking up the craft right out of college, Eddie didn’t expect this to be the rest of his life. Sometimes, though, the world works in mysterious ways. The children’s book he always wanted to write comes alive in the shorts he draws and ideas he shares. Though he’s still wanting to put together a D&D epic for younger kids, Eddie is content enough with his lot to continue doodling on someone else’s dime.

He's about to pick the red pencil back up when the creak of his already open door startles him. It’s well past the time at night where anyone else is usually in the building. Eddie likes to close his door until everyone leaves so he’s got the space to himself. Now, he’s drawing in ambient light with nothing to disturb him – except, he guesses, for a gorgeous man dragging along a cleaning cart.

For a lingering moment, Eddie knows the man hasn’t seen him yet. He’s got headphones covering his ears and his head bobs to the beat. Strong hands are already reaching for the tools he’ll need to clean the floor before clearing out Eddie’s trash. This guy is new because no one ever took the time to sweep up the pencil shavings under Eddie’s desk. Lately, he’s been coming back to the office to a clean space. Now, he knows who the culprit is.

Since the guy still isn’t reacting to Eddie’s presence, brown eyes greedily take in their fill. Though the headphones push it down, the janitor has gorgeous hair. It’s thick and dirty blonde. Eddie thinks about the potential for amazing hairstyles and almost swoons. As his eyes roam a little further, Eddie notices wide wire-framed glasses pushed up an angular nose. They enhance hazel eyes that are now looking at him with a mix of panic and surprise.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. No one is ever here, I didn’t even think to knock. I’ll uh – I’ll come back later.” The words are out of the new janitors mouth so fast that Eddie’s head spins. Though, he’s quick to put it on right in hopes of keeping this mouthwatering stranger in the room.

“Hey, it’s alright. I should be thanking you. You’re the first cleaner to ever pick up my pencil shavings. It’s awesome, man. I appreciate it.” Eddie finishes his thanks with a soft smile. It should be enough, saying something sweet before moving on. Yet, it’s not. Eddie feels compelled to keep talking. “Are you new?”

The guy looks incredibly uncomfortable for a second before nodding. It’s brief and coarse but it’s a reaction – one that Eddie wasn’t all that sure he was going to get. Happy with that small crumb, Eddie’s smile widens.

“Cool, you’ll like it here. I’ve been working behind this desk since college. Loved every second of it.”

His comment is met with silence that lingers so long Eddie thinks his new friend is done with the conversation. He’s about to grab at his pencil again when that deep voice sounds off.

“Maybe you’re right. It’s really quiet. I like that.” The man pauses for a second, takes Eddie in. His hazel eyes roam over Eddie’s face and down until he sees the drawing on the desk. For an instant, those eyes widen, but the moment is gone long before Eddie can process it.

“I’ll let you get back to your work, Mr. Munson. Sorry again about the interruption.”

Shrinking back at the name, Eddie calls out immediately – “It’s Eddie. Please, call me Eddie.”

Though the man doesn’t verbally respond or outwardly acknowledge Eddie’s request, there’s a short little nod before the squeaking of the cart sounds again and the enigma of a man is gone as quickly as he came.

Over the next couple of weeks, Eddie changes his routine in hope of bumping into their new custodian again. He walks the halls every couple of hours during the day to see if the man works while the rest of his crew does, but never finds him. He then stays a little later, lingering in his office until the call of food or a television show or plain boredom has him collecting his bags to head off for the night.

Eventually, Eddie’s enigma makes another appearance. This time, though, Eddie is not prepared for him. He’s been curled up into the sanctuary of his arm, napping soundly, since his last meeting. They ripped apart his drawing and asked for something completely different than what Eddie had been picturing. The game isn’t even out yet and Eddie is over it. The headache that sets in kicks his ass, making the call of the flat of his desk so very enticing. He doesn’t know he’s fallen asleep until the door kicks open and he’s blinking awake.

“Shit, I did it again. I’ve been saving your office for last every day, trying not to disturb you on your late nights. Sorry, Mr. – Eddie. I don’t mean to disturb you.”

Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Eddie stops him before he can go. “Wait! You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind the interruption. It’s probably needed. I’m spending way too much time here, anyway.”

With an invitation to stay, the guy doesn’t take off like the rocket he had just been trying to become. Instead, he lingers in the doorway, eyes roaming over Eddie again. Since they’re staring at one another, Eddie doesn’t disguise his desire to look back.

This time, Eddie notices a thin little mustache that covers red and probably delectable lips. They’re plump and forming words that Eddie is obviously missing out on. He clues back in just in time to catch the tail end.

“ – my friend’s son loves Epic Kids. I get so many more cool points now because I know one of the artists.”

Eddie is glad he managed to tune back into reality – catching that compliment makes the rest of his shitty day seem insignificant. Epic Kids is his pet project, one he’s much more interested in than the stupid game pitch still haunting him from his desk. Though, Eddie is unsure how the man before him knows about his involvement. He hasn’t had a new project for the show cross his desk since they first met.

“How did you know I worked on that show?”

The man smiles then, his lips (they are absolutely kissable, Eddie just knows it) quirk into a knowing grin. For the first time since Eddie encountered him, there’s a sign of life outside of trash cans and a grumpy demeanor.

“That first night I barged in, you were working on a doodle that ended up in yesterday’s show. After Lucas finished up the episode, I watched through the credits. Eddie Munson, Storyboard Editor, is pretty hard to miss.”

“It’s kind of unfair you know my name and I don’t know yours,” Eddie petulantly says before he can stop himself. Though, it’s not a bad thing because the man laughs, genuinely chuckles, and points to the embroidered name on the left side of his tacky blue jumpsuit.

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s cheeks heat up for some reason, as if access to a name gives him so much more. While it’s just a title to call the hot man that roams the halls at night, Eddie sees the vulnerability as something more. An obvious door has been opened and he’s timidly excited to step through it.

Steve becomes a regular fixture after that. It’s easy for him to wheel his cart into Eddie’s office at the end of the night and make conversation while he goes about his duties. Eddie draws or sits in his chair listening intently to everything Steve’s got to say. He learns about the man’s found family and his platonic soulmate who also doubles as a roommate whenever she’s in town. The connection they have is something that should be cherished, despite only being nurtured for a handful of minutes the nights Eddie can force himself to stay late enough.

There is, of course, an easy fix. Eddie isn’t one to actively pursue another person, especially when he’s not quite sure about their interest. Steve, it seems, is the exception to every rule that Eddie’s ever put into place, however. Their time together is too nice not to extend it past the walls of his workplace. Never mind the fact that Eddie is more than excited by the prospect of Steve in anything but the ugly blue uniform he’s forced to wear. The man is beautiful, Eddie sees that through and through. Something tells him, though, that Steve has lots of potential outside of navy blue.

He bids his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself. It’s a Thursday night and Steve is already talking about the weekend. He has yet to mention Friday night, however, so Eddie takes that as his chance.

“What about Friday? Are you free? There’s this joint in town I’ve been dying to try out, thought you might like to come.”

Eddie waits with bated breath as Steve blinks a few times behind his thick lenses. He goes about putting the trashcan back in its spot, even replaces the bag before looking in Eddie’s direction.

“Uh, yeah. That – that sounds good. I haven’t been out with adults I didn’t grow up with in ages. I think I’d really like that.”

It takes a massive amount of effort for Eddie not to happily jump up from his chair. His fist is tingling with the need to thrust itself into the air in triumph, but Eddie keeps control. After finally securing some extra time with Steve, the last thing Eddie wants to do is muck it up by being over eager or worse – immature with his excitement.

It seems, however, that Steve is just as excited. Pink overtakes his cheeks and a smile that Eddie’s never seen before stretches those gorgeous lips wide. And while he’s not making eye contact with Eddie at all, Steve sneakily glances in his direction time and time again as he finishes up.

Eddie feels like he’s back in high school again, fumbling over his first crush. It’s a glorious thing, experiencing freedom like that after the fickle mundaneness of adulthood.

----

As expected, Steve is an absolute dream out of uniform. The yellow polo Steve’s wearing makes the hazel in his eyes stand out beyond belief. His blue jeans are tight in all the right areas, enhancing thighs and ass like navy blue fabric never could. Eddie has to physically close his mouth upon first glance, lest he starts drooling before the date actually gets started.

Thankfully, Steve spots him across the weird little bar and makes a beeline in Eddie’s direction. The space they’re in is an eclectic little place that serves beer while it’s patrons play mini golf on the two courses out back. It’s one of the coolest things Eddie has seen – he desperately hopes this little place won’t be the last of such an interesting idea.

Everyone around them looks to be enjoying themselves, either way.

Glad for that knowledge and reassurane, Eddie makes quick work of getting them both a drink and the things they need to play the first course. Steve is slightly stiff as they start but loosens up by the third hole.

Now that they’re not in the noisy bar and the party before them is a couple holes ahead, Steve relaxes. He starts to shoot better and actually takes a couple pulls of his drink. It’s a relief because Eddie already thought he blew it.

As it turns out, Steve is just a man with a little social anxiety. When it’s just the two of them, Eddie gets so much from Steve. He talks about his family the most, the little brother (who’s not actually a ‘real’ sibling, though Steve counts him as one) that’s been a pain in his ass most of Steve’s life, the niece and nephew he spoils incessantly. It’s a beautiful thing to experience a person so dedicated to the people around them.

Eddie tries to reciprocate by telling him about art school and the program he did throughout. He talks about the children’s book he wants to write, despite never spilling the beans of that to anyone else in the entire world. Uncle Wayne doesn’t even know the plot of Eddie’s dream work. For some reason, Eddie can’t stop himself from speaking so earnestly to Steve. It doesn’t hurt, however, that Steve is pretty candid with his words, too.

The only thing that Steve doesn’t talk about is himself. After the first date and then the second, Eddie chalks it up to nerves and taking things slow. He’s in deep already, so the change in pace is a welcome thing.

Except, it keeps happening the longer they’re together. Two dates turns to two months of dating, two months of Steve avoiding questions, two months of them never once setting foot in Steve’s apartment. Admittedly, the lack of personal details is a little off putting. Though, Eddie is eager enough to see where things might go with Steve that he pushes all of that aside. One day, one day really soon, Steve will open up.

It eventually happens, just not in the way Eddie ever thought it would.

For the first time in their entire relationship, Steve’s walking him towards his door. Well, he’s backing Eddie up against it because they can’t keep their hands off each other. Between their intense connection and the chemistry that runs rampant, Eddie’s been edging himself, waiting for this very moment. It’s a little much now that it’s happening but Eddie’s here for it, eager and willing, too. So much so that he doesn’t question Steve leaving off lights as they stumble inside.

Despite the time it took them to get here, Steve is anything but patient and inexperienced. He doesn’t fumble or miss buttons in the darkness of the room. His accurate attack gets Eddie out of his clothes in record time.

Instead of taking off his own, however, Steve immediately drops to his knees, eager hands finding Eddie’s cock without struggle. Long fingers wrap around the base while Steve’s other hand drops to Eddie’s balls. He rolls them at the same time the wetness of his mouth sucks in the head of Eddie’s cock. It’s so glorious, Eddie can do nothing but thread his fingers through Steve’s hair and pull him closer.

The suction is so good that Eddie has to dig the nails of his free hand into the fleshy skin of his palm. Drawing blood is the only thing stopping Eddie from shooting down Steve’s throat but it’s all too good to make him stop. At least, Eddie thinks that until the end is actually imminent. Then, he tugs on Steve’s hair, pulling him off as gently as possible.

“You’re way too good at that. Care for a little something more?” Eddie asks as Steve stands up from his spot on the ground. There’s a smile on his face, though Eddie barely recognizes it in the dark. He thinks to ask about the light but bypasses the urge – if Steve wanted them on, he would’ve flipped the switch as he passed.

Knowing that, Eddie is a little surprised that Steve takes off his clothes at all. Usually when a person liked to keep the lights off, they liked to keep their clothes on, too. Steve, it seems, is filled with contradictory worries and triggers. He sheds his clothes in the same manner he disrobed Eddie. It’s efficient and quick and soon, they’re both standing in front of each other naked as can be.

Steve doesn’t give Eddie much time to take him in. That self-conscious air is back, despite Steve covering it up by sliding his body on top of Eddie’s on the mattress. They fit together so well it’s difficult to keep up with anything at all aside slick slide of Steve’s hips as he grinds down against Eddie. Their cocks are both wet with pre-cum that makes each brush of their pelvises an electric thing. Eddie is already done in – he’s not sure how much more he can take.

There must be precognition in Steve’s life because he moves away from Eddie right as he thinks that. It’s both a torture and relief, one that’s only made better by Steve shifting his body so he can dig into the bedside table for a condom and some lube. The triumphant little noise he makes is kind of nice, too. It reorients Eddie back to the real reason they’re taking each other apart. He loves Steve. Steve loves him. Coming together like this is the ultimate culmination of their feelings for each other.

That thought echoes in Eddie’s head while Steve lubes up a finger, then leaves a dollop of the cool liquid on Eddie’s hip for later. When that finger breaches him, Eddie lets Steve project his love into him, feeling complete for the first time since things started between them. It’s satisfying and dizzyingly delicious.

Steve is very good at the things he’s doing to Eddie. His fingers take no time at all to find Eddie’s prostate. They nail the bundle of nerves tirelessly before not touching it again for many minutes on end, despite more digits coming to the party.

Eventually, three fingers barely skim against it by the time Steve’s getting antsy for more. Eddie too is right there with him.

“I’m good, Steve. I’m good. I need you, baby.”

A soft chuckle slips from Steve’s lips that are pressed against Eddie’s neck. While hands fumble between them, Steve kisses and nips little marks into soft skin, distracting them both from the lurid slip of a condom down Steve’s cock. Eventually a hard tip presses against Eddie’s entrance and the softest of whispers echoes in his head.

“I’ve got you, Eds. I’ve got you,” Steve mumbles, his words laced with lust and want and anticipation that reaches a peak as Steve finally presses inside.

It’s so difficult to keep his composure, Eddie doesn’t even try. He yells out a loud “fuck” that sits in the room with them. While Steve draws back and thrusts forward, Eddie clings to him. He runs his hands over Steve’s back and sides, tracing lines of something like scarring from one side of his torso to the other. If he was thinking straight, Eddie would’ve taken that all into account. Instead, he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and lets the man drop even more weight upon him, distracting Eddie further.

When the end comes creeping near, Steve’s head is tucked into Eddie’s neck, his harsh breath like a tsunami’s wind. Eddie is hanging on the precipice, already able to cum for minutes now. He’s clutching to that edge just to make sure he tumbles off at the same time Steve does. It only takes a handful of thrusts and a cleverly placed bite of Steve’s teeth right above Eddie’s collarbone for both boys to free fall into the unknown abyss of immaculate pleasure.

Eddie must black out because the next time he blinks back to consciousness, there’s light streaming through Steve’s windows. There are curtains but each one is pulled back, letting in the light.

It’s then that Eddie sees them, the reasons behind Steve’s need to keep the lights off in front of Eddie. There are scars everywhere that Eddie can see. Some are long and thin while others look like something tried to take a bite out of Steve’s skin. The flesh is red and raised, though healed completely all the same. Eddie wants to reach out and touch but he refrains. Intimacy is a gift he doesn’t want to give away. Misplacing Steve’s trust in him is not at all what Eddie wants to do.

Already, it’s too late, though. Steve turns slightly, revealing more of the scars on his chest and neck. There’s a long line around his throat that Eddie is surprised he’s never noticed. It obviously hides well under all the clothes Steve wears. This time, he doesn’t tamp down the urge. His fingers brush up against Steve’s neck on their own accord.

“What happened, Steve?” Eddie’s eyes are welling up with tears. He can’t decide if he’s mad at whatever did this or overwhelmed with the need to care for the man before him. That must be clear – Steve doesn’t draw away or try to hide. He rolls over completely and pulls Eddie into his arms.

“It’s – really hard to explain,” Steve starts, his hand idly running up and down Eddie’s sides as they cuddle. “The town I grew up in, Hawkins – it made the news a bunch of times a few years ago.”

Sensing some familiarity, Eddie wracks his brain, trying to remember but New York is a long way away from Indiana. He still nods his head, willing Steve to go on.

“Some crazy stuff went down that you probably won’t believe. In the end, I took a beating to make sure my family got to see another day. I got… taken and the things that were trying to tear Hawkins apart, they did this to me. A couple times over.”

Steve’s a little breathless when he finishes. Despite not sharing all that many details, Eddie knows whatever he just purged from Steve is a lot. It’s something that’s stricken him down in unimaginable ways.

For all it’s worth, Eddie leans further into Steve, dragging him in a little closer. He doesn’t know what to say but that seems to be okay. Steve wraps him up tighter and lets the easy silence settle between them. Without noticing, both drift off again.

Between a nap and another round of amazing sex a while later, Eddie is famished when they eventually resurface to go about the rest of the day.

Steve volunteered to cook so Eddie wanders around the apartment. He takes in the comic books and CDs. There are toys in a box in a corner and a big tv box tucked into a nice looking stand. It’s simple and nice and totally not what Eddie expected at all.

Neither is the master’s degree Eddie sees hanging from the wall.

“Steve, you went to college? For longer than the mandatory four years?” Eddie’s voice is high, the shock clearly coming through.

Steve comes bounding around the corner, a spatula still in his hand. “What are you screaming about in here?”

Eddie takes a long breath and then another. He looks at the diploma on the wall and then back at Steve. “You never said you were a college boy.”

Laughing lightly, Steve shrugs his shoulders. “You never asked.”

“But – “ Eddie starts, his face flushing. The mere thought is too much. How can he ever say the words?

Steve, of course, beats him to it. “But what? But I’m a janitor? You know, Eddie – that’s pretty narrow minded of you.” The words hold no malice, despite the tone of Steve’s voice.

“I don’t like people or crowds. I have PTSD from all the trauma in my teens. Offices and university campuses are the Mecca of loud noises and large masses of other humans. Instead of putting myself into danger, I work a slow job that fits my complexities. It’s exactly what I need, Eddie. Kind of like you.”

The last sentence is enough to make Eddie’s head spin. He for sure thought he was getting a lecture where in fact he gets the opposite.

Steve strides towards his bookcase a determined look in his eye. He searches and skims his fingers over book spines until the right one is in his hands. “Read this. You might understand things a little better. I always told anyone who asked that the events weren’t real but they are. Everything I wrote down in that book is what me and my friends went through. All of it.”

Steve taps the top, looking directly at Eddie. “Read it, don’t read it. If you’re curious about me, you’ll find a lot of what you want to know between those pages.”

All the sudden, Eddie remembers where he heard the name Hawkins before, where he’d even been privy to Steve’s name prior to them meeting. Looking down at the book in his hands, Eddie distinctly remembers demogorgons and bats with tails that stung and ripped and tore. Quickly, Eddie riffled through the pages in order to get to the back cover.

There, in all his gorgeous glory, was Steve Harrington, not at all smiling at the camera. Reading into the bio, Eddie ticked off all the educational credentials that Steve has. Two master’s and a prestigious scholarship from the university he used to teach at. Despite himself, Eddie is surprised, yet not all at the same time.

Instead of continuing to read through the book in hopes of finding out more details, Eddie closes it and puts it back on the shelf where Steve found it. Sucking in a long breath, Eddie nods, then goes to join Steve in the kitchen. Now that the cats out of the bag, Eddie thinks he might enjoy learning more about his boyfriend strictly from the source himself.

As Eddie settles himself against Steve’s back, he allows himself to relax. Steve’s mystery is one Eddie can’t wait to pick apart. Until the clues lay themselves out for him, however, Eddie’s content to hold onto Steve tight and see where the road leads them. It’s too easy to be enraptured by a man that holds his hand while flipping pancakes with the other.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers as the breakfast making commotion calms down.

Steve doesn’t ask him what he’s thankful for or demand an explanation. He simply pulls Eddie close and silently finishes breakfast.

Slow and steady.

Absolutely perfect in every way.

tag list (message if you'd like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, @writer-in-theory

[bettyfair]

Waiting for Hockney.

Here goes nothing... In 2008 a documentary was released that changed my life. It has 6.5/10 stars on IMDB and one of the three comments on the trailer reads "The guy seems like a desperate hack".

I've not watched it 10 years and it has no Wikipedia entry for me to check my recollections. Here is my review.

The film opens with voice over reading a letter addressed to the titular Hockney. Billy Pappas is our man, we don't know him yet but he reads his own words as if they've been smeared on the walls in his own excrement. "The vehicle for the spirit of urgency and intensity which occupies my being is drawing" he reads, his own letter displayed in its all caps glory. What does that mean? Fucked if I know.

Billy goes into some minor detail about his art work that he wishes to show Hockney - an incredibly detailed portrait that took him just shy of 9 years to finish. That's right - a portrait that took nearly a decade.

He works standing up, drawing under 20x magnification, later he will describe a months work as taking place within a printed full stop. He talks about how he reeducated himself on all aspects of drawing. Eye school, ear college, left cheek university. Billy graduated from them all.

At the start of the documentary (I think) he's finished the portrait. Supported over the years by his mother, a local vicar (or whatever Americans call them) and a man who has Dr before his name. At the end of the documentary Billy will say they've supported him to the tune of $300k. They enable him to work day in and day our on his obsession, fixating intensely on small details in the search for greatness. His mother is anxious and overbearing.

The film doesn't show you the work until (spoiler alert) Hockney sees it himself. It does however reveal very early on that this portrait is of Marilyn Monroe - the superstar actress who died some 40 years before his portrait even began. Alarm bells ring already, he's drawing from a photograph?

He wants to bring the photo something that it doesn't have, a presence. He chose her why? Because she represents fame and all it's over exposure? He chose this photo because it's blurry. Make it make sense.

The details are hazy on me, my number one recollection is the anxiety the film makes you feel. Billy puts Marilyn and Hockney on such a pedestal, throughout the film the portrait is referred to as 'Marilyn' as if he has created beyond art and into life itself. 'She' represents his obsession and 10 years of his life, 7 hours a day he gave to her standing up in his mothers spare room using a homemade sling to rest his tired arms. I cannot bare it. It terrifies me.

The last 15/20 mins of the film are a hard watch. He finally shows his creation to Hockney and his entourage, one man in particular speaks for Hockney - a rodent looking man who for sure thinks himself better than you. He expertly rips into Billy's work, and by that, also into Billy himself. You see 'Her' for the first time and you are underwhelmed, a perfectly passable drawing that, had he drew it in one day, I would have said 'Holy shit!' knowing it took 10 years, well, still 'Holy shit' just not in the same way. She merges into herself, and you see so clearly how little Billy brought to the table. There is nothing about her, nothing that has not been captured by the 1000's of other artworks, pictures and sculptures of her that came before. "Have you ever thought of doing a quicker sketch?" Hockney asks.

So many of Billy's shortcomings are within his masterpiece: an emptiness despite such attention to detail. He cannot understand the world around him, he gives so much of himself that it makes me uncomfortable, yet at the same time there is so little revealed of him and nothing said that matters. It's like he whipped his shorts off just to reveal his bare, smooth ken-doll like genitals.

Rodent man laments on how you cannot notice the detail in 'Her', in a gallery it would not be clear or visible.

10 years of Billy's life - 8 and a half on Marilyn, 1 and a half getting her to Hockney, concluded in underwhelm. Rodent man calls Billy naive, of the art world he says "that's not his world" although I don't think he needed to be specific to just the art world. Why did he pick Marilyn he asks? Not to Billy obviously, because really - deep down - Billy doesn't know.

Is this art? Not the drawing no, but why does this picture weigh so heavy on me? I could not have this in my house - it's too valuable. It represents everything to Billy, it represents his need for approval and his desperation: it intimidates me. Billy has this burning desire for approval from someone else, something we all have. I badly want people to tell me i'm cool and that my fringe makes me look AT LEAST 40% less like a primary school teacher with a well organised set of felt tip pens. Billy dedicated 10 years of his life to that approval, even before knowing he didn't get it, it made me uneasy. It's the desperation right? I think it's the lack of awareness that kills me most, i'm not convinced by Billy at the end of the film - allegedly coming to terms with life after Marilyn. He doesn't seem to have learnt the core message of the film, which I feel is - hey! Don't put your life into another persons hands you smooth dicked fuckwit!

After all this we see Billy in his car reading the dictionary. He tells us he usually travels with 3 dictionaries on him. He wants to focus on the words and the meanings and he describes himself as obsessed. I don't think Billy knows what he means by that, but he's not wrong. Later he gets a job as a bartender and is pleased with $40 that he heads home with. His mother defends him with her life. Marilyn rests in her basement.