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camels-pen · 3 years ago

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A Haunted, Haunted House

Summary: It was supposed to be just another dumb tourist attraction… right?

based on @bubblegumbeech's prompt "Oh this place is haunted haunted… too bad Danny can’t reveal who he really is… it would have Really helped him out"

Ao3 Link

There were eyes all around them, Danny was nearly sure of it, but he couldn’t see any of them. If he hadn’t paid for the damn tickets to this place, he would’ve mistaken it for a real haunted house, filled with vengeful spirits trying to keep him and his friends out of their haunt. These employees really went all out with the creepy factor.

Only a brief flicker of a red light through the thick smoke coating the floor indicated the whereabouts of the smoke machine, a small thing tucked in the corner by the entrance, and the only giveaway that this wasn’t real fog rolling in around a small cemetery in the dead of night. Something Sam was probably appreciating as they walked past.

They walked down a long hall, some of the others who joined their group were clinging to each other in fright already and for a moment, Danny was worried that two of them, the ones clinging to the arms of the tallest girl, might faint partway through. They’d hardly entered the house and yet it was starting to give even Danny the heebie jeebies. He was impressed.

After a bit of prompting from the tallest, the group ahead of them started walking a bit faster and Danny followed their pace. Tucker and Sam weren’t far behind, though they were unusually silent. Danny chanced a glance back at them and noticed that Sam and Tucker had clear fear painted across both their expressions. Sam was moving slowly, almost robotically, and her face was much paler than when they entered, her hand clenched tightly in Tucker’s and right arm shaking from the force of Tucker’s full body shivers and clattering teeth.

“C’mon guys, it’s not that bad.” He grabbed Tucker’s other hand and pulled them along. He aimed to sound teasing, but the low mumbling coupled with his vigilant gaze watching their surroundings betrayed his words.

They continued down the hall, turned the corner and found the earlier group frozen in place. Even the tallest girl, who previously looked about as scared at Danny at first, looked much much paler than the others.

He looked past them, further down the hall. There was a set of stairs leading up into a completely dark upper room.

Weird. He should be able to see into that room.

He blinked his eyes a few times, rubbed them harshly with his free hand, then discreetly let his eyes glow to check they still could. Okay, so his eyes were working fine. Huh, must be a black sheet or wall instead of an entrance to an actual room then.

He noticed a slight shift in the dark, a fabric lifting up to expose a real room with a few bits of equipment visible in the background. There was a person in an all black skin suit, with an extra pair of arms and legs connected via taught thin wires, crouched at the top.

The person took a brief breath and Danny heard them mumble something like “You got this, Lily.” before slowly crawling out onto the first couple steps, head first. The others made small little gasps and hitches in breath. One of the people in the other group actually squeaked and the person in all black, previously keeping their head focused on the stairs, snapped their head up, staring directly at them through their full face mask.

Slowly, they tilted their head to the right, so much so that their head quietly thunked against the wooden steps.

He felt Tucker squeeze his hand in a crushing grip. Danny readjusted their grip to interlace their fingers and squeezed back reassuringly.

He leaned back to whisper, “Chill, it’s just someone in a suit—”

Then, the person moved.

Their head suddenly snapped up straight. Without even looking where they were going, the person moved swiftly towards them, all their arms and legs, real and fake, scuttled down the steps, touching each on the way down without making a single sound. Their head stayed in the same position, focused on the group and hardly moving despite their quick descent.

And despite Danny knowing it was just a regular person under there, he couldn’t help but tense as if ready for a fight.

The group ahead of them all screamed and scrambled back into them just as Tucker yanked him and Sam closer toward himself.

They must have... really practiced that. Good for them.

Danny probably could’ve made it better though. Like, with walls that seemed to push in on them as they moved or sudden appearances and disappearances of walls and creatures.

That would’ve been cool.

Still, this haunted house was alright. Well, alright for something made as a tourist attraction anyway.

The next couple scares weren’t as great as the first. In fact, they started declining in quality the further they went into the house, but the way Sam and Tucker were reacting, he supposed it was pretty good for people without night vision.

And just when he was starting to get bored and debate the merits of sneaking off to make a few improvements to the place, he noticed it.

They had to go through a large unfurnished room to get to the next section. It was covered in cobwebs, the temperature was deliberately set to something much more comfortable for his ice core, and the next thing he knew there was absolute silence as his gaze locked on something in the back corner, past the door frame they just came through.

There was a couch, one he hadn’t noticed earlier despite his initial sweep of the room. It had gray cushions and lighter gray pillows and a single blanket rolled up in the middle. The blanket was an off-white colour and clearly large and fluffy, almost large and fluffy enough to be mistaken for another pillow with how it was rolled up.

It was innocuous. Something that could’ve easily been a piece of furniture too heavy to move before the attraction opened or a secretive spot for the actors to take a break on whenever they got tired. Either way the dark upholstery was doing enough to hide it in the dark and there was nothing to highlight the white of the blanket so it was practically invisible.

But the way that blanket was shaped, the shadow cast at the top of the roll where the inner layers had just peeked through the hole and drooped downwards…

It was like there was a person’s head face down in the cushion, hair obstructing the view of their profile, but ready to turn at any moment. Ready to reveal what left them as little more than a head wrapped in a blanket and placed on that otherwise comfy looking couch.

And he couldn’t even chalk this up as another planned scare by the people running the haunted house because humans don’t have night vision.

Danny didn’t even know what led to the screams and increased squeezing on his hand, but he booked it out of the room as soon as he got the reminder that he wasn’t alone. That he had people here he needed to keep safe and away from that… thing.

Danny desperately wanted to grab Sam, Tucker, and the group ahead of them and just fly out of this place as fast as possible, but he couldn’t. Not only can he not afford to blow his secret identity, but he’d never be able to find all the employees before the creature noticed. Hell, even if he could find them all, he would never be able to carry everyone in one trip and trying to leave too quickly, or maybe even just revealing his ghost form, might tip the creature off. Anger it and make it harm whoever he left behind.

He couldn’t do that. Maybe if he were a more selfish person, he might’ve taken the chance and flew Sam and Tucker away first, but he’s not so he won’t.

They continued through the house, seeing pretty good jumpscares here and there—they even got caught up in a fake spider’s web with one of the actor’s dressed up as a massive tarantula—and finally, finally they were nearing the exit.

It was just how the reviews described it. A long hallway acting as a straight shot to a single wooden door with a row of doors on each wall. Some were fake, as he could tell by the poorly painted doors—a sight only believable as real doors when it was dark and hard to see—but some were… strange.

Most doors seemed normal, just storage rooms and a single dark break room, but one door, just a little over halfway down the hall, was open just a crack and expelling a thick smoke that clung to everything it touched. It was darker than the smoke from the entrance—almost black in colour, but not quite that dark—and it creeped toward them slowly, almost at a… leisurely pace. Taking its time to curl towards them and mocking them in a way. As if to say it could catch them at any time, but it wanted to savour the experience of coming closer and leaving no escape from its touch.

Danny didn’t like how it felt like smoke of all things seemed like a predator stalking its prey. Tried not to think of the implication that they were the prey.

And when he looked down the hall again, there were two—three more doors that were also spilling that near-black smoke.

They needed to move. Even if he was being paranoid about the blanket and the smoke, Danny wanted to be out of this stupid attraction—haunted house, Danny wants to simultaneously laugh and cry at the absurdity of a man made, tourist-friendly version of a haunted house becoming an actual haunted house, fucking hell—and drag his friends to his house for a comfort movie marathon because fuck this place is creeping him the hell out.

Tucker was still shivering in his shoes and Sam was rooted to the spot, both of their eyes darting at the different doors and fake doors and the exit at the end of the hall, but neither of them were looking down, where the real danger lay.

He tugged them forward, urgently pulling them towards safety, freedom, escape, but Tucker pulled back, shaking his head insistently while his eyes were affixed on the exit doors. Danny knew they were scared out of their minds and they had to be ready to leave at this point after having their fill of a manufactured (real, real, this is definitely real) haunted house, but Tucker kept pulling him away from the exit with harsh pulls at Danny’s hand and Sam looked like she was hardly breathing where she, too, watched the door at the end of the hall.

And as the smoke grew closer he smelled it.

The smell of decay.

And suddenly, Danny cared a lot less about his secret getting outed.

He yanked Tucker toward him and hoisted him over one shoulder before turning to Sam and putting her over the other shoulder. Then he made his intangible and flew just a few centimetres over the ground to get them through the smoke safely without raising too much suspicion. It was still far more risky than they’d usually go for nowadays, especially considering the setting, but then he felt the smoke start to burn his ankles in the gap between the hem of his socks and pant legs and he flew a bit higher and faster. At this point, he honestly didn’t care if his secret was outed because right now they were in serious danger against an unknown enemy and he needed to protect them at any cost.

He skidded to a stop right in front of the door and set them down before immediately turning to keep his eyes on the smoke. He felt ectoplasm start to build in his palms, a deep fear he could feel in his core telling him to never leave his back to an enemy, especially not this enemy, one he knew nothing about and smelled as if it were going to snatch away his precious people the moment he looked away.

But the smoke had turned docile. Flowing steadily across the floor like it poured from a machine instead of a doorway to hell

Light, sunlight illuminated the hallway and the smoke changed instantly, going from near-dark to the same colour as the smoke from the entrance, a soft light gray that was just a shade lighter than cigarette smoke. Danny wasn’t dumb enough to think the creature was gone, but for now he’d allow himself to believe it was asleep—dormant as it waited for its next prey.

As soon as they made it outside, Danny slammed the door and ushered them away towards the nearest lines of bushes.

“Damn, that was so fucking good,” Sam said. “Never thought a fake haunted house would actually get me this scared, but I’ve been proven wrong.”

“Right? And you thought me and Danny wouldn’t be able to find any good ones.” Tucker held out a hand, his arm still shaking slightly. “Now pay up.” Sam rolled her eyes, but stiffly brought out a couple of twenty dollar bills, handing two to Tucker and holding out the other two to Danny who looked dumbstruck.

She waved her hand a little, still stiff, but loosening up. “C’mon, take it. My arm’s getting tired.”

Danny automatically took the money, taking a moment to process their words before bursting. “Priorities, guys! We need to do damage control on that group of people who were right ahead of us; we don’t know if that weird smoke affected them and they’re slowly dying out somewhere or—”

“Woah dude, slow down.” Tucker held up his hands, the shakiness had all but faded at this point. “What people?”

“Okay,” Danny clenched his fists. “I know you like messing with me Tucker, but now’s really not the time. Especially after all of that.”

“But there weren’t any people there other than us and the actors.” Tucker said. “They separate groups by half an hour, remember? And we were the first in line.”

“And what do you mean, ‘all of that’? It was just a haunted house, Danny.” Sam leaned back against a lamp post waving a hand. “Sure it was pretty scary, but it wasn’t like it was actually haunted or anything. They just had some really good actors and set designers.”

“Yeah dude, I think you’re just seeing stuff where it isn’t there.” Tucker patted him on the back. “Let’s go grab some funnel cake and maybe you’ll feel better.”

It wasn’t just his imagination.

It wasn’t.

But convincing Sam and Tucker…

He watched the way Sam held herself, near perfectly still against that pole, tense with muscles waiting to lock up again. He watched the way Tucker was forcing himself not to shift in place and shoved his clearly shaking hands deep into his pockets.

It was an easy decision.

He laughed, a bit stilted, awkward, but easily dismissed as residual fear. “Y-Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s just get some funnel cake.”

He gazed back at the house for a moment, to look at it one last time and ingrain it in his memory to never return, when he noticed something in a window not far from the exit.

Three people were waving at him: a person with many eyes covering their white skin, a tall girl with a white blanket wrapped tight around her neck, and another person made entirely of near-black smoke.

Danny carefully took a breath, nodded to them, and turned away.

#danny phantom #nemo the writing ho #phic phight #phic phight 2022 #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #creepy

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feralpoodles · 3 years ago

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I would love a tutorial from the procreate update please whenever you have time ❤

Procreate update for sims 4 meshes tutorial!!

Just a disclaimer that I’m still figuring out the update too so this may not be the best way to do it but it’s the way I got it to work lol. The procreate update seems a little wonky at this point so hopefully in the future they’ll add support for importing textures and non-square uvs :)

Tutorial under the cut because it’s long akfskh

1. Open whatever mesh you want in Blender as per usual.

2. Go into File>export>Wavefront(.obj) and export it as an obj

3. Transfer the obj and the image texture to your Ipad. You can do this any way you want (dropbox, email, etc.), my computer was automatically set up with a synched onedrive folder so that’s what I use

4. Import the obj into procreate. You can either do this from whatever program you used to transfer the file (in Onedrive you click on the options and select “open in another app” and then you can select procreate) or you can click on “import” from the top right of the procreate gallery and navigate to the file in your files app from there. Either method will automatically add the mesh as a new artwork that you can find in the gallery

This is where it gets a little screwy lol. Since procreate only seems to support square uvs that are 2048x2048 and Sims textures are 1024x2048, we have to stretch the texture to fit, edit it, then squish it back (this will kill the quality a little, but I honestly can’t figure out a different to do it, please tell me if you know)

5. Color fill the main mesh you are working on (drag the color from the top right corner onto your mesh and drop)

6. Go under Actions (wrench icon)>3D>Show 2D texture

7. Go under Actions>add>insert photo and pick your imported texture and position it up against one side of the canvas

8. Start a transform, then turn on snapping/magnetics. Then, with freeform transform, stretch the texture so it reaches the other side of the canvas, making sure it snaps to each side. You can then position the texture over the colorfilled texture to make sure it lines up

9. Uncheck the show 2D texture option and check that the texture looks right. You can turn off the colorfilled texture too

10. Paint/edit texture normally! I like to work on a separate layer so I can move it around and edit it separately

11. You can also insert photos, select areas and move them around, and basically do everything you can in normal procreate, it’s pretty cool :)

12. Once you’re happy with your texture, go into layers and merge your drawing layer with the texture layer (you could try just exporting the drawing layer and adding that onto the original texture in photoshop, might save some quality but you might not be able to get it in the exact same spot)

13. Go under actions>add>copy canvas

14. Go back into the gallery, add a new artwork, choose clipboard when it asks for a size, this should put the image texture you copied into that new artwork.

15. Save the image from there and transfer it back to your computer

16. In photoshop, select the white background and delete it. Then, copy the texture onto a sims texture template. Then you can free transform one side and squish it back to the right size, and place it so it fits correctly over the template

17. Hide the template and save the image, then import it as a texture into s4s. Tada!

It’s not perfect, like I said you lose some quality, but you can do some cleanup in photoshop and it’s a lot easier to draw directly on the mesh this way if you don’t have a drawing tablet/cintiq to hook up to your computer.

When I tried it the first time, I was working on a new mesh so the UVs were square. When I finished painting, I took that texture and scaled it down to fit on the sims texture, then I adjusted the UVs to fit, which definitely worked better. Hopefully Procreate will fix some things so we can import textures and have non-square uvs. Hope this helped, let me know if you have questions!! :)

#procreate #sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims 4 cc tutorial #sims 4 tutorial #procreate update #procreate 3d #procreate tutorial #ts4 #ts4 cc #s4 #s4cc

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notnctu · 4 years ago

Text

POV | PART TWO

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff! angst, (optional smut is marked with ****) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo by pov by ariana grande ❀ word count - 6.1k ❀ warnings - swearing, dangerous reckless behavior, fingering, penetration, public?sex?, unprotected, slight dirty talk ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

❀ a/n - make sure you read the first part as it’s a continuation! please please leave me feedback, i would really appreciate it :) this is going to be my last long fic for the time being! thanks for dealing with my spam for the past few weeks after months no of writings <3

READ PART ONE

Donghyuck thought about that kiss every night since it happened, yet knowing you didn’t do the same. How unfortunate it was, when he panicked waking next to you in the morning and wondering if you were to confront him about it. However, there was nothing, no follow up. You didn’t remember it and he couldn’t tell if the sigh that left his mouth that morning was out of relief or despair.

Regardless, that became his epiphany and the more his love for you grew, the more he wished to be around you for all his days. Donghyuck jumped at every text message, picking up the phone to see if it was you and noting the disappointment in his heart whenever it wasn’t. He found himself smiling whenever your name was brought up, fondly thinking of how you make his heart race.

The moments that you were together, he swears on every universe that he’s the happiest he’s ever been. There’s something about you that makes him want to believe in love, and it’s not because of your unrealistic desires to find one. As selfish as he came to be, he wanted you all to himself and to be the sole reason behind your smiles.

“No Mark?” Asking as you hop into Donghyuck’s car, the clock on his dash reading the red digital numbers 2:12 A.M.

“Why can’t we just hang out for once?” He whines, but hopes that it’s playful enough to where you can’t tell that he’s actually serious. Donghyuck hears your melodic chuckle and everything inside him rumbles with glee and satisfaction.

He steals quick peeks over at you in the passenger seat, greedily taking in your appearance. “That’s not exactly how a throuple works, but I’ll let it pass. Mark never has time for us anyways.”

There is something so intimate about the late nights; the outside world is dead in its sleep and vulnerable to chaos. The streets are completely empty and it truly feels as if it’s you two against the city. It brings no regulations, easy escapes, staying up all night to feel something the day can’t give you.

You are the perfect person to spend them with. You’re the very definition of a good feeling, where he’s forgetting all his bad days and soaring through the heavens. The most accurate human form of excitement, the adrenaline and sweetest thrills that run throughout his body.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” As Donghyuck pulls into a gas station parking lot, the small convenient store is brightly lit with a blinding white sign that reads a popular chain establishment.

Hyuck blinks at you curiously, head tilt and waiting for you to finish your sentence. Getting out of the car, you stand on your toes and rest your chin on the roof of his car to speak directly to him, “you know that big intersection over on 34th Boulevard?” He catches the mischievous twinkle that shines in your eyes and a grin so fearless fits your face perfectly.

He nods, spinning his car keys on his finger and walking up to the store. But he’s looking back at you with eyes that ask for you to proceed with him, and you’re running towards him with a sudden youthful energy and a jump in your step.

Your hand latches onto his arm and his gaze drops momentarily to follow it, “I’ve always wanted to just run down the middle of it. To run down a busy traffic area when it’s empty, knowing that this would be the only opportunity to do it without getting run over.”

“Is that what you’re suggesting we should do next?” Hyuck opens the fridge and grabs his favorite prepackaged ice cream cone. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, your dazzling eyes never leaving his.

He hands you a random popsicle and you take it mindlessly, your train of thought still trying to convince Hyuck to embark on achieving this new thrill of yours. “If you didn’t have anything else planned…”

“Am I some Fairy Godmother? Granting your wishes to come true?” Using sarcasm to hide his undying desire to scream yes! may be the best thing he’s learned to utilize. However, you don’t need to beg any more when a small smile curves at his lips. He’s more than convinced.

“Ah, a happy couple. You two look great together.” The rather talkative cashier compliments while he rings up the icey treats.

Just before Hyuck can clarify, you’re pulling him closer by the arm and using your fake saccharine smile. “The best boyfriend ever!” His throat freezes, but he’s following your lead closely. Confusion wandering his thoughts, but heart swelling at your usage of the word boyfriend to reference him.

The friendly stranger laughs wholeheartedly at your giddy act, completely falling for your overplayed nature of a lovey dovey girlfriend. “He always buys me what I want, like this ice cream. He knows it’s my favorite.” You blink innocently up at him, but he finally understands your malicious motive.

Shooting a glare at you, he complies silently and pulls out his card to pay for both of your treats. “Right. Anything my baby wants.” He says the pet name so easily that it shocks him a bit.

“Hey, you’re a good man.” The clueless cashier smiles even wider and prints the receipt. With a simple gratitude, you both exit the store and you’re laughing the loudest form of mockery.

Jumping into the car, Hyuck is quick to roll his eyes. “He always buys me what I want.” He imitates your previous statement with a silly voice. “I can’t believe you robbed me.”

The ridiculous scheme actually managed to work, leaving your stomach to hurt from the intense fit of giggles. “My baby? Where did you learn that?” You say between your spurts of laughter.

Heat rises up his neck, slightly embarrassed. “So what? Nicknames are cute.” He admits bashfully, while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Your chuckles die down and you’re leaning over the middle console to get a closer look of his expression. “Really? Didn’t think you were the type. You never used them with your exes.”

“Around you.” A cringe runs down your spine when you witness Hyuck bite his ice cream, settling back in your seat with a grumble.

“Pet names in private.” Now, his palms grow a bit slick with perspiration. “That’s endearing.” Unwrapping your melting popsicle, you don’t probe him more about the subject. Instead, Hyuck turns up the stereo to drown out any more talk about romantic gestures.

After several rounds of finding street parking, Hyuck finally swerves into a spot situated just before the large six-way intersection. The traffic lights blink in view at the end of the street and in the darkness, there are no cars around. An unfamiliar scene, this place is nothing but a wide open road with five lanes that meet in the middle and lead to six different directions. The white painted lines that divide up the road are as chaotic as it looks during the day filled with traffic.

Nonetheless, you are right. There is no other chance to see it so dead, so empty, so free.

And you’re already hopping out of the car that Hyuck breaks his daydream and hurries after you. Standing the middle of the road is a dangerous scheme, yet these are the thrill seeking moments that you crave too well.

Extending your arm out and your palm facing the night sky, you grin enticingly at Hyuck to join you in the middle of the chaotic lines and the adrenaline picks up within him. He, too, matches your smile and lets every form of enthusiasm fuel him.

“Race you to the end.” Hyuck begins bolting down the long runway, causing you to scoff in disbelief at his sudden challenge.

The wind that takes flight against his body is crisp on his skin and driving his strands into a wild mess. Turning around, he sees that you’re quick on his tail. However, the one thing that catches his eye… the one thing that makes this moment another one of your most beautiful ones is the utter bliss and peace in your facial expression.

Eyes are closed and arms are spread out as if you’re letting the wind carry you away. The air slips between the spaces of your fingers and the night is filled with nothing, but your gentle out of breath giggles.

Donghyuck stops in his tracks right under the colorful traffic lights at your astonishing image. And if you are to open your eyes, you’ll see the marvelous image of your sun waiting for you in the middle of the largest intersection of the city with his mouth slightly agape and marked under a trance.

An exasperated sigh escapes as a puff of smoke and his heart works extra hard to pump oxygen in his veins. In his perspective, the excellent city skyline at the horizon remains your background and you’re running toward him with a breathless joy. Another splitting breathtaking image that will live in his mind for as long as he knows you.

So he throws caution to the wind and though it feels too good to be true, he loves his best friend more than anyone he’s ever come across.

By the end of your rendezvous, you two find a secret rooftop to fully enjoy your silent city. Standing side by side, you both lean with your elbows on the ledge.

There is something so unspoken and intimate about this very moment, where existing in each other’s presences becomes wholly more comfortable than anything in the world. And this safety allows for vulnerable secrets to spill, for questions that your heart has always been afraid to ask to fall from your lips.

But you’re not here with just anybody. Donghyuck probably knew what was already on your mind, he just needed you to speak them into existence.

“Hyuck, do you think I’m unlovable?”

Perhaps, it’s the intimacy that allows for him to talk more confidently about how he views you. Heart over mind, he scoffs in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’re the most lovable person I know! From your happy giggles to your overall easy going aura. We’re not perfect people, but you’re worth every glance and every praise. I wanted to be with you the very moment you made me laugh.”

Donghyuck passionately rambles on about your attributes and everything you’ve allowed him to experience over the years of your friendship. While he’s always been there for you, you’re always by his side and making sure he’s living a memorable life. He thanks all his sweetest memories to you, that you are the most impactful person of his entire college experience.

“I came to college thinking I’d have my nose in textbooks all day long, but you fell into my life like an opportunity to escape. I love my nights trying to crush Mark on the leaderboards, but I’d give that up any day to run down a major intersection in the middle of the city with you.”

With a playful soft chuckle, you say something that practically makes his heart stop and regret oversharing. “You know, from how you describe me… it almost sounds like you’re in love with me.”

“Maybe I am.” He bites the inside of his cheek, unsure what suddenly overcame him. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he’s anticipating your response, trying every way to decipher the quizzical look on your face. Nevertheless, your hesitation causes him to panic and he intercepts before you can respond. “I meant that as your friend.”

His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, gaze averting away from you. Lies. Lies. More fucking lies. He should’ve waited to see what you would’ve said.

Nodding knowingly, you lightly place your hand over his. The warmth of your touch soothes his aching and disappointment. Why is he hurting from a simple look? “I know.” He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that you truly believe he only loves you as a friend or that you saw right through him and are trying to let him save face.

“Something happened the night of your birthday that I think I should tell you.” Hyuck sighs out all his frustrations.

He pulls his hand from underneath yours, “you asked me to kiss you as a birthday favor.” There is no confidence to watch your reaction, his eyes remain focused on the dark city.

Instead of a painstaking rejection, you laugh wholeheartedly and somehow, he feels much lighter. “And did you?”

“How could I say no to you on your birthday?” Peering over, your fingers softly graze your lips and a wandering look is present in your dazed stare.

“It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, Hyuck.” Smiling at him, Hyuck looks cluelessly at you and doesn’t recall another time. He would’ve remembered.

“Guess who I stole that same request from?” Your eye lashes bat firmly at him and he gulps at your implied question. There was no way.

“Me? When?” This all causes him to rack his brain of lost files, something he must’ve missed.

Sighing, you bid him a kind smile. “Your birthday party a few months ago. Drunk out of your living mind, you pulled me privately into the kitchen and asked if I could kiss you as a birthday gift.”

Fuck, no wonder why he couldn’t remember. He didn’t remember a single thing from that night. “It was right after my break up.”

Nodding, you affirm his realization. “You told me that you felt so lonely, and somehow…. someway… I’ve always made you feel seen. Perhaps, you do the same for me and my drunk ass was bold enough to ask for a similar request.”

But did you kiss him as if you loved him? With the same amount of love that he did the night of your birthday?

Nonetheless, you shrug off the topic and move on from it all. “We should go, the sun comes up in a few.”

Hyuck notes this odd detail. You’re not one to end the nights so abruptly, so it almost seemed as if you didn’t want to speak more about it.

Perhaps, you did kiss him like you meant it but every fear in your body about loving your best friend stops you from admitting it all.

Because you shouldn’t love your best friend, but something deep down has always wanted to.

How ridiculous he was to believe that you could ever possibly share the same feelings as him. How foolish he felt the moment you burst into his apartment announcing how you’ve finally found the one after another random Tinder date.

It’s as the night on the rooftop a week ago didn’t even exist or mean anything to you. But that night ate him up alive, to the point where he sought out love counseling from Mark.

“Oh dude, this is serious.” Mark watches Hyuck pace the room, double around the floorplan with his head in his hands with utter frustration and confusion. You’re the only thing that’s been running through his mind the last few days.

He grunts and rolls his eyes at how Mark’s face had fallen sullen. “I practically confessed everything I loved about her. It’s pretty serious.”

Mark stands and stops Hyuck by the shoulders, looking dead into his eyes. “I’ve liked her before too and would have done some dumb act to get her to like me back. I get it, Hyuck. So, what do you want to do?”

Donghyuck initially scoffs and tears away from his best friend’s intense stare, “of course you liked her too.” His voice fades out at the end of his sentence. “Mark, I like her so much it’s hard to look at anyone else. She’s…”

“Mesmerizing?” Mark finishes his sentence with a small proud grin on his lips.

Hyuck couldn’t hold the ridiculous laugh that escapes at how smug Mark looks, but then a silence falls over him. He realizes how perfect that word is to describe you. You are every dazzling trance he’d fawn under.

“It’s wrong, Mark. She’s our best friend, I can’t ruin us.” Hyuck slumps his shoulders forward and a pout extends. His eyes are wandering the ugly carpet but he’s thinking about every moment you’ve smiled.

“How did this happen in the first place? I thought you never would’ve liked her…” Mark’s question has Hyuck raking his brain to find his epiphany. “It’s not about your ex, is it? y/n is way too good to be a rebound.”

“No. This has nothing to do with my old relationships, I genuinely like her… so much.” Hyuck understands the implications in Mark’s sudden abrasive questions. Even it’s difficult for himself to say how it all started and so this has Donghyuck reflecting back on his entire friendship with you.

If only he had noticed your lively smiles sooner, a little earlier, it would have saved him all this time searching for someone who would last. You’ve lasted through every college relationship he’s had and that speaks louder than any confession.

“I never liked her because I never thought I had a chance. Have you seen her? Our best friend who has 400 matches on Tinder.” Though he blames himself for realizing a little late that he loved you, it was always hard to compete with everyone else.

“So, what changed then?”

Hyuck leans against the door to Mark’s room and crosses his arms to contemplate. “Not that I have a chance now, but I can’t hold these feelings back anymore. I want to kiss her until we’re out of breath, to love without any conditions, to be the reason behind her every beautiful moment.”

Mark raises a confused eyebrow, “but you are.”

“The only reason.” Hyuck speaks his truest desires and Mark coughs aggressively before composing himself. Right, he didn’t stutter one bit.

So, Hyuck had planned to confess, all until you gave him the very reason he couldn’t. When you showed up unannounced with one of those wide grins that has your eyes shimmering with hope, he just knew something was wrong. All his love and future aspirations were replaced with sheer disappointment and envy.

“I’m falling hard for him.” You begin and your hands are clasped together so innocently. “He brought me to this overlook on a cliff and we just talked for ages. It felt so right and then, he asked to see me again!” Your eyes are completely wondrous and distracted, like the one thought in your mind blocked out everything else. Jumping happily, you’re squealing with excitement thinking about this new person in your life and there is no consideration of Hyuck’s silence.

“That’s… great.” He barely stutters to fill the air and to replace the sound of his heart breaking. He lost you before even getting the chance to even have you.

“I know right!” You yell joyfully and though your smile is the biggest it's ever been, Hyuck refuses to see this moment as beautiful. He’s no longer looking at you objectively, his bias tainting it all and he sees it in an ugly light. As your best friend, he should be happy for you and rooting for you. He’s known more than anyone else that you have been waiting for someone like this your whole college experience.

However, he can’t feel a single good emotion as you ramble on about your alleged one true love.

“Did you need something?” He cuts you off, growing a bit irritated by your endless praise about a man who never wishes to meet.

Clearing your throat, you take Hyuck’s hand in both of your palms. With begging eyes, you say, “my sister is getting married this weekend and they invited you.

His hold escapes yours as he walks toward his bedroom, “shouldn’t you invite your new man to your family events now.” It’s difficult for him to hide the bitterness in his voice, but you run up to him and grip his arm.

“But they think I’m dating you, remember? Plus, my mom referred to you by name. She really likes you.” You snicker, clearly not understanding why Donghyuck seems to be rather distant at the moment.

His ears perk up at the compliment and though it’s a selfish thought, he feels content knowing that he was able to win over your family. So, his heart burns at how your hand slowly travels down to intertwine with his own and how your chin rests on his shoulder lightly. His head turns and he is met a few inches away from your tender lips. For a brief moment, he’s staring at them longer than he should.

“Come on, Hyuck. Be mine for one more time.” Your whisper is gentle and soft, your breath tickling against his cheek. Despite everything, he loves how you make him feel. It’s always a mixture of happiness and safety. There are no fears with you because you’re absolutely fearless. He can’t imagine how he would’ve opened up without you around, that he puts every form of trust into you.

So, every little thing that you do. every single passing look. every touch and every spoken word. He falls harder for you every time you simply see him, every time you bat your eyelashes at him. And this love that festers inside of him feels easy and genuine. Perhaps, you’ve been his one true love all along. He’s never felt remarkably seen, where every part is exposed and right at your fingertips.

And you… have been so patiently waiting for just anyone to steal your heart. How can he let just anyone love you?

“I’m yours for however long you want me to be.” He lightly ruffles the top of your hair before slightly shrugging you off, afraid that your hold will eventually have him saying other sweet implications. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” He smirks at your small chuckle, the roll in your eyes.

“At least pretend.” But he really doesn’t have to. He enjoys every moment being yours.

When the day finally arrived, the grand wedding may have been another day that Hyuck will never forget how beautiful you looked. Prancing out in your bridesmaid dress, you run towards him through the large field of fake grass. He catches you when you jump into his arms, practically failing all over and tripping over the ends of your chiffon dress. He hits the ground, cushioning your fall.

“Hey..” you grin down at him breathless, hand resting perfectly on his chest as it was the night of your 21st again.

Hyuck gulps and sends you a glare, “I should have dropped you.”

“That would have been very chivalrous of you.” Sarcasm bites back at him as you push up and off of him. He’s quick on his feet and brushing off any dust from the bottom of your expensive dress, avoiding the long open slit that runs down to expose one leg.

“Donghyuck, you’re looking ravishing.” Your mother steps out, tall and prideful, but with the most delightful expression as she opens her arms to invite him into a hug.

He leans into it, while cautiously making suspicious eye contact with you. You shrug back, also confused at why your mother has a sudden change in demeanor. “It’s been so long since the holidays.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He bids your mother a respectful smile when she pulls away, to which she absolutely fawns at and you’re tugging at his sleeve to drag him away.

“The pleasure is all mine. You make y/n a better person.” And there is no context that Hyuck understands this single phrase before he’s walking away from your force. Your mother waves a small sweet goodbye as she watches you two leave behind a cobblestone wall behind the large reception building.

It’s covered in long vines that grow up the old stones, a beautiful background for an outdoor wedding. “Rude.” He whispers when you finally stop pulling him away.

“She was starting to say odd things.” You laugh, quite nervously actually. Nonetheless, you shake out of your nerves and a beaming expression replaces your troubles. “So, guess what? I’m meeting my man afterwards.” Yet again, the curve of your lips at the thought of another rumbles his own yearning heart.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looks down while kicking at the loose pebbles on the ground. “Good for you.” grumbles Donghyuck mindlessly.

You don’t notice his low spirits again, you’re talking away about this man as if he’s all you’re consumed with nowadays. On and on, the same speech about how you’re practically ready to give it your all and how he fits someone unimaginable. Eventually, Donghyuck becomes fed up by how your eyes blink up to the sun with another reflection in them. “It’s like you forget who you are when you’re with someone new.”

And you’re in mid-ramble when you hear his harsh comment that picks aggressively at your skin. It stings, “what?” You cross your arms defensively and raise an eyebrow at him. The tone in your voice is jarringly upset and he opened a can of worms that he isn’t ready for.

Donghyuck swears underneath his breath, looking away at the tall trees behind the small parking lot. “Forget it.” He mumbles, rather frustrated at himself for ticking you off.

“What are you implying?”

“There is someone that actually makes you a better person rather than someone completely different.” He scoffs, his emotions fueling the worst of him. The words flow from his mouth full of anger and spitefulness.

Your eyes narrow at him, crossing your arms defensively. “Like you can give me the love you think I deserve? This whole fake boyfriend gimmick has gone too much to your head.”

And his heart is bursting at the seams and all he can see is your angry expression, so he says something he never hopes to regret. Every impulse beats his rationality and in the heat of the moment, Donghyuck confesses, “if only you can see yourself from my point of view and all the emotions I feel when I look at you.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re slightly shocked at his bold statement. You blink cluelessly at him, speechless and deciphering how to respond. The anger fades from the both of you, knowing that the connection you two possess is mutual. Somewhere deep down within you, a light switches on and you’re basking in your sun’s radiance in this moment.

“Tell me about it.” Your curiosity brings much confusion, but he doesn’t wait a second of hesitation.

“Happiness, you light up my nights in dark cars with your smile. Trust, there is no one else I’d run down a dangerous intersection with. Courage, being bold enough to dance in a crowded room like no one was watching. Love, when kissing you felt incomparable to anything else in the world. Vulnerability, looking at you and knowing everything about you.”

Donghyuck takes a cautious step forward toward you. A whirl of thoughts and emotions overwhelmingly flood your heavy mind, but fear no longer holds you back from the one person you’ve always wished to love, harder than any person you’ve ever encountered. “Donghyuck.”

He freezes at the call of his name, waiting patiently for your next words. “I want to love me the way that you love me... because nobody loves me like you do… even myself. So, I’d love to see me from your point of view.”

Donghyuck releases the sigh that suffocates him and every firework lights up in his chest. His eyes wander across your canvas and absorb everything wondrous about your features. Even though you’re not entirely smiling, you’re puckering your lips cutely out of embarrassment. And he reassesses how pretty you simply look in your expensive formal chiffon dress and the bold color on your lips that has made you feel good before.

He thinks aloud, the words leaving his mouth before they can be stopped. “This is your most beautiful moment.”

When you’re looking up at him to meet his dreamy gaze, a new enthusiasm washes over your entire body. Looking rather inexplicably attractive in his suit, Hyuck stares at you as if you’re all he can see. So, you pull him into the only source of gratitude you can give. A kiss that gives every emotion back to him, one that resembles closely to the one he gave you on your birthday and the one you gave him for his.

An emotional kiss that tells him more than he can see. He feels it on the tip of your tongue and every ounce of love that rushes over the both of you.

***********

Donghyuck’s wandering hands travel down your waist, over your hips, all until it reaches in between the slit of your dress. His hand instinctively grips at your naked thigh, the feeling of your raw skin driving him wild with impure thoughts. Your hands are quick on his tie, loosening it from around his collar and unbuttoning the first few as you’ve done once before.

“Can,-- Is it okay if--?” Hungry eyes search his face for confirmation, but you’re so lust driven that you’re a stuttering mess. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” Says Hyuck without any hesitation. Taking his hand, you’re quick to lead him inside to a more secluded part of the venue. The lavish private bathrooms are brightly lit and he lifts you on top of the marble counters.

“The reception starts in 20 minutes.” You moan as Hyuck kisses down your neck hastily, a hand up the slit of your dress to push your panties aside.

“We’ll make it quick then. I’ll show you love another day.” His knuckle lightly grazes against your erect clit and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Whimpers fall from your lips as your hips mindlessly grind into his hand. “Never took you the type to be so loud.” Hyuck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head mockingly at you.

“This isn’t even close to how loud I can get.” Your statement causes him to swallow hard. Being your best friend, he has kept a rather clear mind from any sexual attraction toward you. He had to know he loved you in order to even see you in that way.

Gathering your slick, he rubs your clit with two fingers before dipping them into your hole. You lean back into the mirror and prop your feet on the counter to spread open for Hyuck to see. “You let all these idiots fuck your pretty pussy? They don’t deserve you, as a person or a potential partner.” He fingers you deeper and with flicking motions, he hits your sweet spot and causes you to jolt.

“Please, just fuck me. I’ve always wondered how good you’d feel.” His eyes twinkle at your bashful confession, but understands your lustful desires even for your own best friend.

“You think about fucking me?” He asks abruptly, taking his fingers out to suck your juices clean from them. A coined flattered smirk appears on his lips as he unbuckles his belt.

You’re averting eye contact, “well no, maybe just once. I get horny when I’m drunk sometimes.” You admit and he’s rushing to take himself out of his restrictive dress pants. His dick hits the air and he adjusts closer to your dripping core.

And he enters, slowly and slowly inching in so you can adhere to his size. You bite back every yell of pleasure and grip the ends of his dress shirt. Hyuck fills you up deliciously, and you two are connected through bodies beyond any way before. He leans in to give you a sloppy, yet passionate kiss before dragging out his hips and pushing them back in.

There is no guilt, no pain, no sorrows. Knowing Hyuck, he fucks you in the same way he wishes to love you. His hips drive into you passionately and quickly. The time crunch being something that causes him great distraction, but his heart is swelling simply feeling your warmth wrap around him so well.

“My baby is so tight.” Pet names in private. A small grin appears on your face at the sound of the sweet nickname and you pull him closer by tugging his shirt.

“Harder, Hyuck. Don’t hold back anymore.” Moan after moan, Hyuck relentlessly drills into you. His arm is hooked underneath your left thigh to keep it up, and your head keeps banging against the mirror.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs circles on your aching clit. The mixture of both pleasures stimulate you until the build up tension in your stomach begins to reach its peak.

“Cum, I know you fucking want to.” He grunts, keeping the same rhythm that pushes you over your edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as your legs shake sporadically from your release. You’re smart to cover your mouth, knowing that the bathroom will only echo your erotic sounds. Your chest rises and falls from the momentum and adrenaline that Hyuck helped you reach, breathlessly trying to calm your heart rate down.

After a few more harsh bumps, he pulls out and motions you forward. Jumping off of the counter, you kneel on the ground and suck his tip lightly. Your swirls are enough for him to empty into your mouth, his hot streams of salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He looks down at you and your wide eyed expression with his cock in your mouth drives him overboard.

And you swallow, getting up to lightly plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A lip stain being worn proudly for just a moment.

“You amaze me.” Hyuck whispers, holding you against his flushed body and fast paced heart beat.

“Hurry out you two!” A voice startles the both of you with a knock on the door and you two are quick to readjust yourselves. He hopes to love you a little longer next time, without any interruptions.

***********

After the glorious and excruciating long wedding, you’re walking Hyuck to his car in the small parking lot. During the rest of the night, he held your hand the whole way through and the love that he looked at you with was more than real.

He talked with your distant relatives as if he’s always known them. Hyuck conducted the dinner table, always knowing what to say. There was no doubt in your head that seeing Donghyuck in the aftermath, he was always going to be someone who was going to make things better.

The love you long searched for, the love that you had been too afraid to touch, intertwined itself so lovingly underneath the white table cloth. Donghyuck is the one and it took needing to see him a bit more to realize. A little more acceptance from the both of you had to be the final straw.

Donghyuck sheepishly scratches the back of his neck when you reach his car, unsure where the path of your friendship will diverge to next. “Have fun on your date then…” His voice trails off, kicking the rocks at his feet again.

There goes your melodic laughter that soothe his aching heart and the familiar gentle grip on his fingertips. You lift his chin up, the both of you seeing each other clearly now.

From his perspective, you’re absolutely dazzling in the low light and butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach. He can look at you forever, until months turn into years. He can love you until you two grow old. You’re his fearless, beautiful, inexplicably marvelous best friend. And he patiently waits for the day you’ll let him finally be yours.

From your perspective, Donghyuck shines even when the night overtakes the sky and possibly, the warmth in your heart bubbles across your chest. You can stay with him forever, until months turn into years. You can trust him like it’s you two against the world. He is your silly, charming, timidly benevolent best friend. And you’re slowly falling and hoping for the day you get to be his.

“I’m not going to see him anymore. He’s not the one.” Hyuck blinks at you, full of confusion and shock.

“But you sounded so happy.” His voice gets lost in the stillness of the intimate atmosphere.

“No, Hyuck. You make me happy and I’ll say it again for you to hear me. Nobody loves me like you do.” Reaching up, your hand caresses his cheek and he falls into your palm lovingly. His heart runs a mile, reaching the greatest high he’s ever going to feel. He hopes his eyes don’t deceive him, but the utter perfection on your face makes him feel whole.

You wish that Hyuck can teach you to love yourself the way that he loves you.

“Take me home?”

“How could I ever say no?”

thank you for being patient with me! its finally done and i will be going on a writing hiatus for a bit. housemating and ridin club will come out sometime soon, but i really need to step away from writing for a bit. please understand, thank you for reading :)

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct scenario #lee haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct imagine

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not-xpr-art · 4 years ago

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Art Advice #4 - A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

Hi all!

This weeks entry into my Art Advice tag, where I offer various advice for artists of any skill level, is about digital art! Now, I am by no means an expert at digital (I’ve been doing it for nearly 8 years at this point and that is almost entirely self taught), but I have picked up a few pointers in that time which will hopefully help anyone just starting out!

(this blogpost is a little over 2000 words long btw)

A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

I know that the world of digital art has changed drastically in the 8 odd years since I started, but I’d still say that some of the options I started out with will be just as good for anyone who’s starting out now!

As always, I’ll be splitting this into sections to make it easier for you to navigate this post!

Part 1 - Equipment/Hardware

There are a lot of drawing tablet options on the market at the moment, and I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about half of them lol. But I think for a beginner, don’t worry about going for the most expensive option, even if the reviews are really good or your favourite artist uses it, especially if it is way above your budget!

An important thing to know is that there are two types of tablet. One is the plug-in kind. These are essentially a pad which you plug into your laptop or computer and draw on that whilst looking at the screen (they basically work the same way as a plug in mouse works). The other kind is the screen variety, which is a lot more like what most of us know as ‘tablets’ nowadays. And you draw directly onto the screen.

(a plug-in vs on screen tablet, both from Wacom)

Now, as for choosing between these, it is honestly a personal choice. But I’d say if you’re just wanting to try digital and you’re on a budget, a plug-in tablet can be really useful since it gets you used to the mechanics of what digital is like, and they are often significantly cheaper than the screen alternatives. I would say that plug-in tablets are a big learning curve, especially if you’re used to doing traditional stuff, but I do know a lot of professional artists who still use this kind of tablet when doing their work, so if it’s something you can get used to I would definitely consider it! Also, they’re often a lot more portable than some screen tablets! The first one I had was a Huion (a model so old that I can’t even find a link to it now lol), and I also know that Wacom are a well known brand that do some decent plug-in tablet. I’d recommend you do your own research on other brands and options, though!

Screen tablets are often a lot more expensive, but if you’re used to traditional art, they are a lot easier to get a handle of! But I know if you already have something like an iPad, or other general use tablets, then they offer apps that you can use to draw on (as well as things like the Apple pen, or other stylus’). The big difference between using these general tablets and ones specifically designed for drawing is pretty much purely a personal choice. I personally prefer the bigger screen of my XP-Pen tablet, along with a special screen protector that removes the shininess of the tablet screen and makes it feel more like ‘paper’ over when I used a general use tablet it draw. But if you already have an iPad, or something similar, then it’s honestly a really great starting point!

I think it’s important for me to mention that you don’t need fancy equipment to be an artist. The incredible Elicia Donze has revealed countless times how she has very basic equipment but still manages to produce the most stunning artworks! All you really need is some kind of drawing apparatus and a lot of patience lol! Getting good at any kind of art takes a lot of time and effort, but I would definitely say it’s worth it when you’re able to look back at your progress!

Part 2 - Software/Drawing Programs

Much like with the hardware discussion, choosing which program to use is entirely down to personal preference. I personally have never really liked Photoshop purely because it’s really complicated, but I know so many artists swear by it.

I think the main aspect to consider when you’re starting out is whether you want to pay for a program. Software like Photoshop, Clip Studio Paint and Procreate are some of the popular ones I hear about a lot of people using, but all require you to purchase or subscribe to them. So if you’re young or on a very tight budget, I’d honestly recommend the free alternative versions of these, such as Krita (Krita is quite a large program, but it has a lot of really awesome features and is very similar to Photoshop!), Gimp (this one is similar to Krita, but has slightly less options, I’d honestly recommend Gimp for anyone who does photo editing though!) or FireAlpaca (this is the one I use, by the way and it’s a pretty simple program, but has a lot of fantastic features and is perfect for how I work!). These don’t have as many features as some of the paid alternatives, but I honestly think all you really need to start digital art is some kind of ‘canvas’ and set of brushes!

Another great free program for beginners I’d recommend is MyPaint, which is great for doodling and just getting used to how digital art feels in comparison to traditional! It also has a bunch of ‘traditional style’ brushes, to make it look like charcoal or watercolour (which I’m sure the paid alternatives have too, but it’s always better when it’s free, I find lol...)

(this is an example of a drawing I did on MyPaint using the ‘charcoal’ effect brush!)

Most of the sites are pretty self explanatory, with sections dedicated to different brushes (I’ll go into the types of brushes later on in this post btw!), adjusting brush size, shape and opacity, a colour wheel, etc. You also have a section dedicated to ‘layers’ (another thing I’ll go into more detail later), and various ‘filters’ and editing options and effects you can add to your work to make it more interesting!

I’d really just recommend playing around with programs until you find your one!

Part 3 - The Pros of Digital Art!

I realise this section should probably earlier in this blog post lol, but I kinda wanted to go into what digital art can achieve in comparison to traditional art, and how beginner artists can utilise this!

I definitely didn’t take advantage of certain aspects of digital art when I first got into it, and they’re things that would have definitely made my life a whole lot easier lol!

Digital art allows you to tweak drawings as you do them. So if you accidentally drew the eye too far to the right, then you can easily move it to the right place. (I usually do this by selecting whichever area is wrong, cutting it out and then pasting it into a new area... And yes, there is probably a better and quick way of doing this but...I haven’t found that way yet lol...). And I honestly think that this has allowed me to look a lot more at a reference image in order to figure out where I’ve gone wrong with a drawing! Whereas with traditional art, I usually spend so long trying to get an eye right, that even if it’s slightly in the wrong place, I don’t want to completely redo that section. Digital allows you to completely rub out sections without leaving indents, which is honestly such a saving grace!

Another pro of digital is the Undo/Ctrl Z function! This means you can easily go back to before you made a major mistake with just a click of Ctrl Z... Though I have to say that this function has honestly ruined traditional art for me... Oh what wouldn’t I give for a real life Ctrl Z... But yeah, this is a great part of digital art and definitely something you will grow to love lol!

Another great thing about digital is that it allows you to flip and turn a canvas as you’re drawing on it. I spent a lot of time trying to turn my tablet around in order to draw certain parts of a piece before I realised you can turn the canvas itself without having to move yourself or your tablet!

Layers are another part of digital that can be super useful, and I have to be honest but I don’t really use them a lot. I know a lot of artists create layers for every section of their artworks (so, one for the linework, one for colouring, a separate one for the background, etc etc...). And there’s something really great about being able to paint without worrying about smudging into a previous section of the painting. This works well for my work since I do a lot of bright backgrounds. I also often create a lot of ‘versions’ of my works, so it’s useful to be able to change the background without affecting the main figure of the piece! (I have to say that I often work in one big layer when I’m doing paintings, just because I like how it feels more like ‘traditional’ art that way, but layers are such a brilliant tool, and definitely something you should play around with!)

The eyedropper tool is another one that is really useful! Although I never colour pick from my reference photos, I know some artists find this useful when they were just starting out (especially if you’re not sure what colour to make shadows or how to mix skin tones, etc etc). The eyedropper basically means you don’t need to mix your colours every time

Part 4 - Just some other things I wish I had known about when I was starting out lol...

This last section is just dedicated to a few things that I would have liked to have known when I was just starting out all those years ago.

First one is fluffy/textured brushes!

I spent most of my art life from 2013 until 2016 using ‘round’ brushes which are notoriously hard to blend with, so I’d recommend either downloading some fluffy/textured brushes (DeviantArt was where I got mine from a few years back, but there are probably other places you can get them for free too!) to your program of choice, since most of the programs I’ve used haven’t had fluffy/textured brushes as pre-set.

I may make another post about how I blend in my artworks if that’s something people would be interested in?

(this is an example of textured brush blending vs round brush blending... I usually opt for round brushes for rougher blending styles and the textured brushes for more smooth and ‘realistic’ blending... for a lot of pieces, though, I use both brushes (the round brushes are good for details!) in the same way that you use different sized brushes for real paintings!)

The next thing I wish I’d discovered earlier is the Brush Stabiliser option. Some programs may do this automatically, but the one I use (FireAlpaca) requires you to manually change the amount of stabilising you have on your brush. This is particularly useful if you want to draw neat lines or straight lines (the stabiliser essentially slows down the ‘ink’ as you’re drawing). I only recently started using the stabiliser, and although I still like having it mostly turned ‘off’ for doing sketchy work, it does make doing line work a lot easier, and also gives pieces a more polished look!

Next advice is to explore all the options you can in whatever program you use!

I feel like with certain programs, you can get overwhelmed by choice and you end up just using a few of the functions. But I’d really recommend just playing around with these programs, trying all the filters and editing options to get used to how the program works. You can often find interesting ways to adjust your artworks this way! In a way I’d recommend this way of working more than finding tutorials made by other people... Unless there’s a specific function you want to learn how to do, just having fun with digital art is a major part of it’s appeal to me!

There are probably a lot of other options I could go into, but this is already over 2000 words long, so I’ll leave it here for now lol! (I may do a part 2 though so... keep a look out for that!)

As always, if you have any questions to things I’ve said here, or are just looking for more advice, don’t hesitate to message me!

And if you like my work on here (art & blog posts) feel free to support me on my Ko-Fi! <3

#art advice #digital art #art advice for beginners #digital art for beginners #artist advice #digital art tips #artists on tumblr #just want to say again that i am not an expert at this at ALL lol #i just want to offer some really basic advice to anyone interested in starting out with digital!

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twiceinadream · 4 years ago

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“Trust me.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Dahyun and reader have been best friends for as long as the both of them can remember. When Valentine's Day is nearing but Dahyun's date bails on her at the last minute, reader offers to be the one spending Valentine's Day with Dahyun instead(maybe because there was already so much planned/prepared or something, also to cheer Dahyun up). At the end of the day, Dahyun admits that she'd much rather spend any and every day with reader than with a guy, and in the heat of the moment, reader confesses that she's been in love with Dahyun for forever

a/u: Hey, guys! So I’m back and I hope you enjoy the first fic of my Valentine’s Day prompts along with my first Dahyun fic. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all like it too. I love you guys!

Background: “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” (In Japanese, is a way of saying “I love you” or expressing your love) and you respond with, “I can die happy.” (If this is wrong, I’m sorry in advance I learned everything off Google)

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

The cool spring breeze blew the scent of fresh flowers and fried food throughout the market as you and Dahyun walked by the various stalls. And by the look of all the roses and pink hearts you could definitely sense the love in the air since Valentine’s Day was tomorrow after all and just like before, you would be spending it alone. However your best friend wouldn’t be joining you this year like in the past when the both of you would watch cheesy rom-coms and gorge on overpriced chocolates. She had been asked on a date and you were equal parts excited and annoyed.

You loved Dahyun and wished her nothing but happiness, but the thought of really spending the “day of love” alone in your apartment stung a bit. That’s when you felt a poke at your shoulder before turning to face the brunette, “What's wrong?”

You raised an eyebrow to feign confusion, “What do you mean?”

She frowned, looking you in the eyes as she looked you over, “Don’t play stupid with me Y/N, I know you too well for that.” You shrugged as you turned away from her, not wanting to answer her question when you felt her grab your sleeve; stopping you in your tracks.

“It’s nothing really, so please drop it.” You gave her the best smile you could muster as you felt your heart seize in your chest, looking at the way she wanted to help you but you continued pushing her away. Clearing your throat to change the subject as you continued walking, “So...what do you and your date have planned for tomorrow?” At the question you could instantly see the way your best friend’s mood perked up as a wide smile spread over her lips as you felt your heart drop in your stomach, ‘And I thought I was the only one who could make her smile like that.’

But you quickly steeled your emotions as you tilted your head towards the brunette to talk, “We’re gonna go to an art museum, then go check out a traditional Japanese garden, then go to dinner at some fancy restaurant they really like.” At the list of activities she had planned with her date you couldn’t help but wonder if she was more excited about the date itself or the fact she wouldn’t be single for Valentine’s, because for the entirety of the lifetime you had known Dahyun she didn’t really like any of those things.

You pursed your lips as you looked up to the sky, “Sounds fun, Dahyunnie.” A cool breeze blew across your face as you inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the pounding in your head as you tried to calculate how much ice cream could mend your breaking heart, “I hope you have fun with them.”

—

-The Next Morning-

It was a nearly perfect spring morning, the sun was barely peeking over the tops of the buildings as the sky remained a beautiful blue, free of any stray clouds. It seemed just a little too perfect.

But, that was none of your concern as you cuddled into your comforter, content on just staying in bed till the afternoon before moving to your living room to binge on every rom-com Hollywood had ever produced along with a tub of ice cream and takeout for dinner.

You face-planted into your pillow as you groaned at your own plan, “God, I'm single.” But your small pity-party didn’t last for much longer as your phone suddenly began ringing, you reached blindly onto your nightstand not even bothering to see who was calling as you answered, “Hello?”

The sound of crying met your ears as your eyebrows knitted in confusion pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the caller ID. Your eyes immediately widen at the name, “Dahyun?”

“Y/N?” Her voice sounded broken and shaky - you could tell she’s been crying and it broke your heart that she hadn’t called you sooner - she sniffed hard, “They canceled, they said they found another girl to go out with. I saw the text this morning.”

You gritted your teeth, not wanting any creative insults to slip from your mouth as you were already getting out of bed, “That bastard, I’ll be over in fifteen.” Dahyun hummed into the phone as you hung up. Standing in front of your closet as you grabbed a comfortable pair of jeans and a soft sweatshirt Dahyun had given to you for your birthday that you knew she loved to borrow - steal - from you. Before moving to the bathroom to brush your teeth and touch up on your appearance before heading to the door to slip on a pair of sensible shoes before walking out of your apartment and locking the door. Dead set on giving your best friend the best Valentine’s Day of her life.

—

-Dahyun’s Place-

True to your word you had arrived at your best friend’s apartment in a little under fifteen minutes as you used the spare key she had given you to enter the home. Quickly kicking off your shoes by the door as you made your way down the hall to her bedroom, sighing as you lifted a fist to knock. Immediately after your knuckles hit the wood Dahyun was already beckoning you inside, “Come in!”

You could tell she was still crying by the crack her voice made when she yelled, a sad smile painting your features as you entered the room. Noticing how the brunette looked smaller than usual swaddled in blankets and a sweatshirt, stray tissues littering her bed as you could see that her eyes were red and puffy. You quickly sat on the bed beside her and waited for Dahyun to either climb into your arms or not, not wanting to force any physical affection on her. To your slight relief she quickly made her way into your arms, sitting between your legs as she leaned into your hold. Both of you sitting in silence as you rocked the two of you slightly, her tears eventually subsiding as she let out a deep breath. “Th..thanks for coming.”

She pulled away from your grasp to look at you directly as you smiled at her crookedly, “Of course. I would rather spend my morning comforting my best friend than going to jail for manslaughter, I always have time for that later.” Dahyun laughed wetly as she hit your shoulder, you grabbed it in mock pain as you pouted, “Wow, Dahyun-ah, I come here to make you feel better and you wound me.”

The brunette rolled her eyes as she turned around to tackle you to the bed, “Crybaby.” You raised an eyebrow as you rolled the two of you over.

“You’re one to talk.” Dahyun stuck her tongue out and for a second you almost kissed her, almost. You noticed your staring had gone for a little too long as you released her from beneath, clearing your throat as you sat back against her headboard. “So, any plans for the rest of the day?”

Your best friend deadpanned, “I just got dumped Y/N. What do you think?” You held up your hands in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. Token single person here, but is there anything in particular you were thinking of doing?” Dahyun shrugged as she played with the corner of her pillow.

“I don’t know, I was really excited to go out today. I even bought a new outfit for the occasion, but I guess we just stay in and watch movies.” You could hear the dejection in her voice as you stood from the bed, looking from her to the outfit hanging by the bathroom.

“I have an idea, but I need you to get ready.” Dahyun looked at you questioningly.

“Why?” You smiled brightly as you pulled out your phone.

“Because. I’m gonna give you the best Valentine’s date of your life.” The brunette seemed unconvinced as you moved to physically drag her out of bed and shove her towards the bathroom, “Trust me.”

Dahyun shrugged, as she began closing the bathroom door. Shaking her head to herself, “Why not, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

A grin broke out across your face as you left the room, doing a small victory dance in the hallway as you let out a giddy laugh, ‘Yes!’ You cheered to yourself as you settled down on the couch to research a place to end the night, smiling as you read that there was going to be fireworks later and you had a perfect place in mind to watch them.

—

It took Dahyun an additional half hour before she was finally ready and you were starting to think she had climbed out her bathroom window to ditch you. But the sound of her bedroom door opening quelled your fears as you stood from the sofa, smoothing down your outfit as she rounded the corner. Your jaw dropping as you saw her.

Her hair was done up in a bun, she wore a brown cable knit sweater, and a flowy beige skirt. She laughed at your reaction as a light blush dusted your cheeks as she twirled, the skirt lifting around her ankles as she smiled at you, “How do I look?”

You were at a loss for words as you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish before finally being able to form a coherent word, “Stunning.”

Dahyun laughed lightly as she walked past you to the door, “Well, are you just going to stand there or are you going to give me the ‘best Valentine’s date of your life’?”

You quickly followed after her as she threw you words back in your face, leaving the apartment as you both stepped out onto the street, “You bet I am.”

—

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you drove, the radio playing quietly as the new song by 3Mix played in the background. You couldn’t help but smile as you kept stealing glances of Dahyun beside you, your long time crush and best friend looked beautiful and you just couldn’t help but keep looking as you pulled up to a market. It was busier than it normally was with most people spending the day out with their significant other, leaving the place more packed as you opened the passenger for Dahyun to get out.

A teasing smile on her lips as she slung her bag back over her shoulder as you both entered the street market. Couples walking all around you as Dahyun threaded her arm through yours, holding onto you as you weaved through the crowd to her favorite tteokbokki stall, it was farther back in the market leaving it less busy than the ones near the front as you both went up to the counter to order. The old man working the stall immediately recognized the both of you as he smiled, “Same as always?” You both nodded as he scooped the rice cakes and sauce onto a plate, noticing Dahyun’s arms wrapped around yours, “I didn’t know you were two dating.” He said fondly as you handed him the money, shaking your head.

“Oh um, we’re just friends.” You said shyly as he apologized immediately.

“I’m so sorry, you two just look good together.” You and Dahyun just blushed as you thanked him before moving to sit.

The brunette dug in immediately as you watched her eat, “Do we really look like a couple?”

Dahyun looked up from her plate, “I mean, it’s Valentine’s and we’re out together Y/N, of course we look like a couple.”

The amount of sarcasm in her voice made you roll your eyes playfully, “Seems like Cupid got his arrow stuck somewhere other than your heart.”

Your best friend let out a scandalized gasp as she reached over the table to hit your head, “L/N Y/N!” You cackled loudly as you avoided her attempts to hit you, as you stuck your tongue out.

From behind the counter the old man watched the two of you from the corner of his eye, ‘And they’re so convinced they’re ‘not dating’.”

—

When the two of you finished you thanked the man one more time as you returned the plates, before walking to the main portion of the market that seemed busier than when you had arrived. Neither of you wanted to enter the fray until you got a whiff of the smell of freshly made hotteok hitting your nose. Did you grab hold of Dahyun’s hand and rush in the direction of the smell.

Smiling like a little kid as you located the stall and quickly got into line behind a few couples, waiting for a few minutes before you and Dahyun made it to the front. A lady in her mid-40s greeted the two of you as you placed your order, “Hi, can I get two honey hotteok please.” You gave the woman a small smile as Dahyun leaned her head against your shoulder, watching as the lady began making the fried pancakes on a griddle beside her.

It didn’t take long for the batter to cook as she wrapped in paper and handed it to the both of you, “That’ll be ₩2,000 please. And I have to say, you two make a very cute couple.”

Before you could open your mouth, Dahyun was already handing her the money, “Thank you, have a nice evening.” You looked at the brunette in confusion as she shrugged, handing you your pancake.

“It’s easier to just say, ‘thank you’. They stop asking questions or looking at us like we’re weird.” You shrugged as the two of you made it back to your car, noticing the setting sun as the sky was a mix of yellow and orange.

“Hey,” You looked over to Dahyun to catch her attention, “I have one more place I want to go if you don’t mind.”

The brunette shook her head, “Of course I don’t mind, you’re the one planning the date after all. I’m just enjoying the ride.” She added a wink at the end that made your heart flutter as you pulled out onto the street.

“You should probably nap, it’s a bit of a drive.”

—

Getting through the city during rush hour was a nightmare and a half that you had forgotten to account for as it took an additional hour to finally make it out towards the mountains that surrounded Seoul. The road up was filled with soft curves that eventually woke Dahyun as she noticed that the two of you had left the city and were heading up, the sky was beginning to darken as the moon began making its presence known.

You continued driving past the usual lookouts till you turned onto a dirt path, a questioning look on the brunette’s face, “Where are we going?”

It was now your turn to deadpan Dahyun, “Just trust me, okay?” Your best friend shrugged as she sat back in her seat, looking out the window till you stopped the car. “We need to hike a bit.”

The unkempt grass brushed against yours and Dahyun’s ankles as you navigate your way through the overgrown foliage. Along the way the brunette’s hand found yours as you helped her down the steep path till you came to an open cliff that gave a perfect outlook to the skyline of Seoul. Night had blanked the sky as stars glittered against the dark, a look of awe on the Korean girl’s face as she couldn’t believe her eyes. She had lived her entire life here and she had never seen the city as beautiful as it looked now.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed the lost look in your crush’s eyes, “Beautiful isn’t it.”

Dahyun nodded as she tore her eyes away from the lights to look at you, “I didn’t even know this place existed, thank you for taking me here.” The brunette’s eyes softened as she felt something in her change as she looked at you, a feeling she never felt before. “But I have to ask, why are we…”

Before she could ask, the sound of an explosion sounded as you both turned to see the remains of fireworks. Her eyes widened as more lit up the sky, the sound of the explosions barely reaching your ears as she watched the show. Vibrant colors danced across the night sky as she continued to stare, “Beautiful.”

Your eyes had left the sky long ago as your gaze was focused solely on Dahyun, a wistful look on your face, “More than.”

It didn’t take the brunette long to have the feeling she was being stared at as she looked away from the fireworks. She quirked an eyebrow as she took in your expression, “You okay, Y/N-ah?” You shook your head as you blinked, clearing your throat as you quickly turned to look back to the sky, looking at the moon as you remembered a saying yours and Dahyun’s friend Sana had once said, “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” At the sudden Japanese leaving your mouth it Dahyun took a moment to decipher what you had just said, when the saying clicked as you looked back at her.

A small smile forming on her lips as she understood what you were telling her before she answered you back in Japanese, “I can die happy.”

In that moment it felt as though the whole world was silent, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears was the only noise that seemed to exist as you and Dahyun stared at each other. A mutual feeling seemed to pass between the both of you as you moved in closer, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek ever so gently as you leaned in slowly. Your hands finding her hips as you pulled her forward slightly as she met you halfway, your lips meeting hers in a soft kiss as your eyes fluttered close. Your heart did a somersault in your chest as the world seemed to resume around you again as the sound of the grand finale of the firework show exploded behind the two of you.

A light laugh leaving your lips as you pulled away to breathe, your foreheads resting against each other as you held your girlfriend(?) closer. A cocky smile on your face as you rubbed your thumb along her cheek, “So. Was this the best Valentine’s date of your life?”

The Korean girl couldn’t help but laugh at your question as she shrugged, “Eh, it was okay.” You felt your smile quickly fade as the brunette giggled at the look on your face, “Maybe you’ll do better for me next year...Jagiya.”

#fortwice #twice #twice imagines #twice prompts #twice one shot #twice fluff #non idol au #kim dahyun #kim dahyun x reader #happy valentine's day 2021 #anonymous #twiceinadream

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ejzah · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: @mashmaiden and an anonymous friend were kind enough to suggest/request and an anniversary fic for Densi’s second Wedding Anniversary.

***

Two Years of Perfect

Kensi rolled over onto her side, woken by the early morning sunlight. Deeks lay on his stomach, just like he did most mornings, sheet and quilt pulled down to just below his waist. She watched him for a couple minutes, just appreciating the slow, steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed, the soft noises he occasionally made.

When the sunlight was strong enough to cover him in a soft, golden glow, Kensi reached out and brushed her knuckles across his jaw. He shifted, turning into her touch, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with love for him.

“Good morning,” she murmured, sliding closer to kiss his cheek. He kept his eyes closed, but smiled slightly and tucked her into his chest. “Happy Anniversary.”

He grinned at that, finally opening his eyes, and whispered back,

“Happy Second Anniversary, Mrs. Deeks.” Even though Kensi normally didn’t like going by her “married name”, something about the way Deeks said it when they were alone, never failed to make her smile.

“Two of the best years of my life.” She kissed him again and nuzzled his jaw with her nose.

“Having to move and going through IVF are part of the best years of your life?” he asked doubtfully. Kensi shushed him with a finger against his lips.

“Don’t ruin the mood,” she teased. “But yes, even with all the tough things we’ve been through, I wouldn’t ask for anything else because I get to do it with you by my side.

“Oh my god, I think that is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.” He paused, his smile turning softer as he caressed her cheek. “And that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“Mm, I love you too.” Slipping out from under Deeks’ arm, she rolled him onto his back, and slid her legs over either side of his hips. His eyes lit up as she hovered over him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. “I have a surprise for you”-she dipped her head and pressed a kiss directly between his pecs-“and this is part one.”

***

“So, what do you want to do after this?” Deeks asked Kensi, leaning across the kitchen island. They’d finally made it out of bed way past breakfast, so while Deeks was showering, Kensi had run out to grab their favorite tacos.

Nell, who was turning out to be an exceedingly generous boss, had given them the entire before Kensi could even fully ask.

“I thought we could go for a walk or maybe surf,” Kensi suggested.

“Perfect idea. But I have to go get something first.” She frowned as he abruptly ran back upstairs. He returned with a flat box, wrapped in blue paper and a periwinkle bow on top, and handed it to her.

“Babe, didn’t we agree on no presents this year?” Kensi reminded him with an exasperated, but fond expression. As much as he claimed to hate organized holidays, he loved giving her gifts.

“First of all, I purchased it in exchange for my legal services. Plus, this is a special occasion,” he explained, gesturing for her to open it. Knowing there was no point in arguing about it, she started sliding her finger under the invisible tape (significantly more than she would have used), revealing a plain brown box. She was extremely curious what he could have bartered for.

“Oh my god, Deeks, this is gorgeous,” Kensi gasped as she lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly rendered oil painting of them from their wedding. It showed Deeks cupping her chin between his palms as she embraced him, adoration clear as they gazed at one another.

“Really?” He sounded unsure and Kensi wrapped her free arm around him, hugging his bicep.

“It’s perfect.”

“I wanted to use one from the actual ceremony, but I forgot how many have Anatoli Kirkin grinning in the background and I didn’t want to explain why one our guests was wearing handcuffs.”

“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” Kensi reiterated, lightly running her fingers over the texture of the paint. Whoever the artist was, they’d taken extreme care with the task, capturing each element with stunning detail.

She carefully set the painting down on the counter and wrapped both arms around Deeks, pressing her face into his chest. He smelled like the organic shampoo he used, warm and familiar.

“Thank you for creating such a beautiful memory for us.” She leaned up and kissed him, her enthusiasm forcing Deeks against the counter. He cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss and within a few minutes, lunch and the picture, were completely forgotten.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do anything fancier this year,” Kensi sighed, playing with the bits of hair at the nape of his neck, which had grown out in the last couple months. His head was pillowed on her chest, one hand loosely spread across the expanse of her side.

Although she’d had plans to get dinner, or even try cooking something, she didn’t feel like moving for the rest of the day. Deeks didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get up either. It looked like surfing was off the schedule as well.

“Hey, you know that when it comes down to it, I don’t care what we’re doing, as long as I’m with you,” he murmured back. Kensi lifted her head just enough to squint an eye at him.

“Now who’s being cheesy?”

“And you love me for it,” he said confidently, echoing his words about her from that morning.

“That is true,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“Not even my tendency to watch “mind numbing documentaries?” She shrugged, shoulder brushing up against Deeks chest.

“Meh, I’m accustomed to it now. Besides, you’ve more than put up with my Titanic obsession.” Kensi wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, drawing a groan from Deeks.

“Just for the record, I am way too tired to pull out the Jack costume,” he warned her and Kensi rolled her eyes.

“Noted.” If she really wanted to, she knew it would take very little persuading to change Deeks’ mind. She was content to lay there for as long as she could. The days were they could just be together, uninterrupted, were few and far between and she planned to savor every moment.

“Happy Anniversary,” Deeks murmured again, sounding on the edge of sleep.

“Happy Anniversary, baby.”

As Deeks fell asleep against her, Kensi thought of the little box she had hidden away in the upstairs bathroom, filled with a half dozen strips of paper, each baring increasingly darker lines. Later, when the moment was right, she’d give it to Deeks. And tomorrow would be the start of an even better year together.

***

Happy Second Densi Anniversary to you all!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #densi anniversary #fluff #romance #mildly densi private times #ejzah fanfiction

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dothwrites · 5 years ago

Note

worried Dean @ Cas: “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

---

It’s a widely accepted tenet in the art department that Castiel Novak is a genius.

Dean first hears rumors of Novak’s skills when he’s a freshman. He doesn’t believe them at first. He suspects they’re overblown by groupies who are too interested in trying to get into Novak’s pants (not that Dean can blame them: with his shock of dark hair, ice-blue eyes, and delicate scrollwork of tattoos spiraling up his arms to disappear under the sleeves of his very tight t-shirts, Novak is a walking wet dream). Then, at the end of his freshman year, he’s busy setting up the annual art show when a piece catches his attention.

At first glance, the painting is deceptively simple. A shadowed figure stands in the center of the canvas, his arms raised up to the sky. Around him are swirls of red, black, and gold, somehow blending into one color in the background. The more Dean looks, the more ambiguity he finds in the painting. Are the swirls of gold lifting the figure up or restraining him? Is the figure fading into the black or breaking free? Is the red coming from him or is he drawing it in? Are his hands raised in supplication or defiance?

Dean loses track of how many minutes he spends staring at the painting, admiring the shading, the color, the symbolism. Transfixed, he reaches out to touch at the rough surface of the painting before he recalls himself and snaps his hand back to his side.

“You can touch it if you want.”

Dean whirls around at the deep voice, his eyes widening when he sees Castiel Novak standing behind him, hands tucked deep into his pockets. Castiel raises a pierced eyebrow at him.

“Seriously. Go ahead.”

Dean shakes his head, aware of Castiel’s reputation. “I can’t...we’re not allowed to disturb the artwork--”

Castiel’s mouth twists and Dean doesn’t know whether he’s angry or deprecatory. “Well, I’m the artist, and I say you can.”

Castiel’s eyes rest heavily on him. Dean swallows, his heart picking up a rhythm that seems attached to the flick of Castiel’s tongue over his lower lip. Hand shaking, he reaches out to brush his fingers over the textured canvas.

“It’s rough,” Castiel says from right behind him (when the hell did he get that close?), “because becoming is always rough.”

And that’s how Dean Winchester decided Castiel Novak was a genius.

---

As school and life continues, Dean admires Castiel Novak from afar.

From what he can tell, Castiel doesn’t have many friends. He has admirers, which he ignores, and he has a few people who hang onto his fame, which he disdains, but actual friends? The only thing keeping Dean from volunteering is the thought that Castiel will turn the same withering look on him.

Castiel haunts the art building and, as Dean continues delving into the Art program at Carver Edlund University, he does the same. Sometimes he’ll pass Castiel on his way to his studio. Castiel always nods at him, but it’s a companionable gesture, the same that you might give to someone at the grocery store. He never stops to chat, doesn’t even remove his earbuds.

And that’s fine. So Dean’s harboring a crush that’s as much intellectual as it is physical. Plenty of people have crushes. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s obsessed. Not like he lurks around just so he can leave at the same time Castiel does. Not like he skulks through the dark halls so he can get a look at Castiel’s new project. That would make him creepy and pathetic, and those are two adjectives which certainly don’t describe Dean Winchester.

After a while, denial doesn’t even taste bad, just a little bitter.

By the end of his sophomore year, Dean’s accustomed to the status quo. He notices the light in the private studio allotted to Castiel (all senior Art majors get their own studios, but Castiel got the nicest of them), but he doesn’t stop on his way to his own (shared) studio. When he arrives, however, he screeches to a halt.

His studio is filled to the brim with snotty freshmen. His personal workplace has been completely commandeered by a freshman with a (barf) man bun. “What the hell?” Dean sputters. He can feel his face turning red with rage. “This is my time.”

Man-Bun pops his gum as he looks at Dean. His eyes are so hazy Dean’s surprised that he’s not deep-throating a bong at that very moment. “Um, guess again? We totally booked the studio for tonight?”

Seething, Dean storms to the schedule and checks. Sure enough, there’s a long list of names on the door for the studio space. “I always have Thursday,” he protests, but it’s an empty sort of rage. “I’m always here for Thursdays.”

Man-Bun shrugs, turning back to his psychedelic smattering of colors. “Not this Thursday, dude.”

Dismissed, Dean gathers his remaining dignity, and leaves. Standing out in the hallway, he reviews his options. He’s kicked out of his regular studio, and he needs to work tonight, otherwise he’ll never get his final project for figure drawing done. Every studio he passes is booked to capacity; clearly the art program is full of procrastinators. In fact, the only studio that has any sort of room...

“No. No. Shit.” Dean weighs the consequences of failing his class versus metaphorically throwing himself into a volcano. Finally, his fear of failure takes over, and he knocks on the door of his last remaining option.

The door swings open, revealing a Castiel who looks significantly more disheveled than normal (though normal Castiel usually looks like he was rode hard and put away wet). A smear of blue paint decorates one cheek while his earbuds dangle from his neck. Dean tries to ignore the spirals of Castiel’s tattoos, especially where they disappear under his shirt (he especially tries to ignore the thoughts of what those tattoos look like underneath Castiel’s shirt). Castiel blinks in surprise.

“Dean. What are you doing here?”

(The fact that Castiel knows Dean’s name comes as a shock. Dean assumed that he was one of the thousands of nameless faces Castiel passes every day.)

“Um, first let me say, it’s totally awesome if you say no, I don’t expect you to say yes, it’s a huge imposition--”

“Dean, you’re rambling.”

“Can i use your studio? Or share it? I wouldn’t ask, but a bunch of douchebags took mine and there are no other spaces open, and I really need to finish this project--”

“Sure. Come on.”

And with that, Castiel steps back and beckons Dean into his studio.

Dean crosses the threshold with something resembling awe. He never imagined, in his wildest dreams, that he would be allowed into Castiel’s inner sanctum. He tries not to gape too obviously as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the room. It looks...like a studio for the most part. Several canvases are hung around the room; if they’re discarded attempts or inspiration, Dean doesn’t know. They could easily function as either. Castiel finally steps in front of him, directing Dean’s attention to one corner of the room.

“Would there be good?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, that’s good.” He pauses, eyes darting nervously around the studio. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Castiel frowns, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “No, of course not. If you were, I wouldn’t have opened up the door.” With that, he seems to consider the topic of conversation closed, and retreats back a few steps.

He sets up his work and tries to ignore the fact that Castiel Novak is watching him. It’s almost impossible not to feel his eyes; the skin on the back of Dean’s neck prickles in awareness, but he perseveres.

He sets his sketch on the easel before casting a critical eye upon it. He frowns as he notices every imperfection. it’s based off a series of sketches he jotted down in class earlier that day. Dean remembers the careless grace of the model, the way that the fabric had draped artlessly over his waist and shoulders, but he can’t recapture the specific atmosphere of the room, which was what made that particular model striking. Every time he tries to put onto the paper how the room felt, his figures end up wooden and two-dimensional.

“You’re paying too much attention to the form.”

Dean jumps, his charcoal pencil scrawling an ungainly line across the page. Not a huge loss, he was already going to toss this one anyway. He turns around to find Castiel standing directly behind him.

Castiel nods towards his sketchpad. “In your drawings. You’re paying too much attention to the form. That’s why it’s coming out wrong.”

“The form is all there is,” Dean replies, a little peevishly. He knows the sketch sucks, but that doesn’t mean he wants Castiel freaking Novak pointing it out to him.

“The form is one part. But you have the lighting and shading and you have the intention. The intention is...the feel of the room. It’s what remains unsaid and unseen to those who weren’t there. It’s what you’re trying to capture by paying so much attention to the form. Of course, by concentrating too much on the technical, you lose the abstract.”

Castiel flicks over to a new page with a deft flick of his wrist. He plucks the pencil from Dean’s grasp with one hand. With the other, he poses Dean’s hand close to his face. Castiel stares at Dean for a few excruciating seconds before he turns his attention to the empty page.

Dean hardly dares to breathe as Castiel sketches. He’s not sure how he’s going to return to real life, knowing now the tiny crease that knits between Castiel’s brows or how the tip of Castiel’s tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. How is he supposed to live, knowing Castiel hums tunelessly as his hand works?

“There.” Castiel flips the sketch to face Dean. In it, Dean finds his own face, rendered in a few lines. It’s rough, certainly, but it’s a close enough likeness. More than that, Castiel’s managed to capture...

“Do I look that scared?” Dean blurts out, before he can stop himself.

Castiel actually laughs, deep and rumbling, from the diaphragm. It’s a lovely sound, one that fills the studio, and one Dean would gladly hear again and again. “You don’t look scared.” He sets the pencil down on the easel and turns fully to face Dean. “Anxious maybe. Hovering on the edge of anticipation.” He steps closer. His chest almost brushes Dean’s, which could be misinterpreted as Castiel not understanding the concept of personal space.

What can’t be misinterpreted is the unsubtle drop of Castiel’s eyes to Dean’s lips.

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I’ve really wanted to kiss you for almost a year,” Castiel says, his voice scraped rough around the edges. His eyes drag up to Dean’s, and Dean’s taken aback at the wild glint in them. Castiel steps closer and his clever fingers slip into the spaces between Dean’s fingers. “Please Dean,” Castiel breathes, raw and needy, “please, can I kiss you?”

“Fuck yes,” Dean murmurs, which is all he gets to say before Castiel’s hand cups the back of his head and his lips descend upon Dean’s.

Not that Dean’s bragging, but he’s had quite a few good kisses in his life (and been told that he gives quite a few good kisses). Castiel blows them all out of the water. Dean’s never been kissed so thoroughly before, like Castiel wants to own him, like Castiel’s interested in finding exactly what makes Dean tick. His teeth nip at the swell of Dean’s lower lip while his tongue delicately traces the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean eagerly opens his mouth, moaning into Castiel’s mouth as Castiel’s tongue slips in along his.

Hours or days later, when they part, Dean realizes that while one of his hands is cupping the spur of Castiel’s hip (holy fuck, those hips feel like handles for his hands), his other hand is still holding Castiel’s. It’s certainly the sweetest kiss that’s ever given him a boner.

Castiel laughs, a little breathless. It’s only then Dean realizes he’s a little taller than Castiel. “You do live up to expectations,” he murmurs, and Dean’s not sure whether Castiel’s talking to himself or not.

The words spark a recent memory in Dean, and suddenly nothing is more important than finding out the truth. “You said you wanted to do that for a year?” Castiel nods, his eyes suddenly shifting to the side. “Why?”

“Everyone always goes on about my art. How groundbreaking it is, how I’m a ‘once in a generation talent’.” Castiel uses finger-quotes, which should not be as endearing as Dean finds it. “And it’s nice, but none of them even bother to see my art for what it is. They just see my name attached to it and they lose their shit. But last year...You saw that painting. It didn’t matter to you who made it. You saw it and appreciated it for what it was. And I...I saw you.”

Castiel swallows. For all his suave confidence earlier, he looks oddly vulnerable now. “So, anyway. Yeah. For a year now. Um...” He glances at Dean’s easel. “I guess I’ll leave you alone now. Or if you want privacy, I can go.”

“Or,” Dean says, the pink flush on Castiel’s cheeks giving him all the bravery he’ll ever need. “You could stay.” Castiel’s eyes slice to him, their blue intense and jaw-dropping. Dean grins, a little predatory, like they’re on even ground.

“After all, I’m going to need a model for this sketch.”

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #college au #art school au #artist!cas #artist!dean #nervous!dean #meet cute #dothwrites

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persephonesfill · 4 years ago

Text

choke on me—chapter five

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter four

chapter six

a/n: i’m not going to say much, aside for a little warning that there is some violence and gore (nothing crazy) in this chapter. i’m super excited for this one and i hope you guys enjoy it! also, this chapter has my first battle scene so bear with me folks

rating: explicit

warning(s): this chapter contains violence, smut, and a little bit of gore

—————

Whatever peace they have following the carnival quickly dies when HYDRA rears its ugly head. Again. Tony hates how devoted they are to living up to their namesake. He had hoped that they would take their time to regroup after the fall of SHIELD, but apparently, four months was more than enough time. HYDRA's power ran that strong.

Tony watches Steve throughout the briefing. He's been watching Steve a lot more lately. Ever since that ride on the Ferris wheel, he's been trying to be more open, more inviting, Steve taking to his attentions like a starving man to freshwater. Steve's all business right now. His jaw clenched, he's scrolling through the digital files JARVIS compiled for them on a tablet with a single-minded focus. His free hand rests on his knee curled into a fist. Tony can practically see the rage in him rising like a tidal wave. He can't imagine how Steve feels, to devote himself to something, to die for it, only for his sacrifice to be for naught.

"God, these guys are like roaches," Clint says, cutting through the silence, tossing his tablet down on the table. "They could survive a nuclear winter."

"So what's the plan here, Cap?" Natasha says, leaning forward in her chair. "You've got the most experience with HYDRA out of any of us."

Steve sets his tablet down. "What we're going to do," he says, his voice colder than Tony's ever heard it, "is go for the head."

"We strike fast, and we strike hard, leave them absolutely no time to recoup. HYDRA, no doubt, has a number of facilities at their disposal. We find them, and we burn them to the ground. Any operatives who surrender will be turned into the proper authorities. We don't want another Zola."

"JARVIS, can you pull up a three-dimensional render of the base?" Tony says.

"Of course, sir," JARVIS says.

A bright blue hologram appeared over the center of their table. Steve stands up and starts to circle it. He could practically see the wheels behind Steve's head turning, formulating a strategy from the bottom up.

"They were smart when they made this base," Steve says. "It's incorporated into the mountain top. They'll be able to see us coming from all sides."

Bruce speaks up. "What if we approach from the west? It looks like there's a pretty dense forest; we could use it for coverage."

"A ground assault would be suicide," Tony says, rising from his seat to take a closer look at the hologram. Steve moves over, making room for Tony to stand beside him. "They could have bunkers, watchguards, tanks, the works. We'd be fish in a barrel."

"An aerial assault then," Thor suggests. "So we won't be caught unaware."

Steve gives the idea some thought, a muscle in his jaw working. "Tony and you could fly ahead and scout for assailants."

"That could work," Tony says. His mind is racing, running through all of the possible outcomes of their fledgling plan. The others could stay behind in the quinjet, and he had recently added retro-reflective paneling to it. "Once we give you the all-clear, we'll be right on top of them and—"

"We'll have the element of surprise on our side," Steve finishes.

"And once we reach the base?" Natasha asks.

"That's the easy part, Nat," Clint says. "We give 'em hell."

*********

They finalize their plans and run them by Fury and what remains of SHIELD. They'll head out tomorrow morning, just before dawn, to catch them off guard. The others have left the war room, either to train or to get some rest. Steve sits at the table alone, the hologram casting his face in blue light.

"Penny for your thoughts," Tony murmurs so as not to startle him.

Steve glances at him and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Talk to me, Steve," Tony says. "What's bugging you?"

Steve sighs. "It'd be easier to list what isn't bugging me."

With a sudden surge of daring, Tony steps off from where he'd been leaning against the wall and slides onto Steve's lap. Steve lets him, his hands settling on Tony's hips like they belong there. Tony wraps his arms around his neck and leans in.

"Am I bugging you?" he whispers.

"Never," Steve says fiercely, his grip on Tony's hips tightening.

"That's one," Tony jokes. "Can't think of any others?"

Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Your smile." Another kiss on the tip of his nose this time, making Tony chuckle. "Your laugh."

"Okay, Romeo," Tony says, laughing. "I get it. That's three, I guess."

Steve smiles, a bigger one than the last one. His thumb has slid under Tony's shirt, rubbing circles into his hip. "Thank you," he murmurs. "It's just... I'm worried about the mission."

"And why is that?" Tony asks like an idiot until he remembers that this base is located in the Alps, where so many things went catastrophically wrong for Steve.

Steve's smile falls just as quickly as it came, and Tony kicks himself mentally for being the one to do it. "Whenever HYDRA's involved, things tend to go south pretty quick."

"I gave my life to putting an end to HYDRA, and no matter what I do," Steve whispers, more to himself than to Tony, "they always come back. They always come back and take something from me. I'm fighting a war with no end, Tony."

Tony cups Steve's face in his hands. "But you're still fighting," Tony says softly. "The second you stop, that's when they win. That's when there's no coming back." His thumb brushes over Steve's cheek, wiping away a stray eyelash. Sitting this close, Steve looked so young. Tony forgot that mentally, Steve was only twenty-nine. He carried himself with an age-old grace and had suffered so much…

"And you're not fighting alone. You never did. You had the Commandos," Tony says. He doesn't know where he's going with this, but he'll do anything to take that grimace off of Steve's face.

"No one should be this alone," he thinks.

"You have the Avengers," he continues. "You have me."

"I've got you?" Steve asks. His voice sounds small, unsure.

"You've got me. You'll always have me," Tony confirms.

"I'm holding you to that," Steve says.

"I'm a man of my word," Tony replies.

Steve tilts Tony's head up, and they don't say anything after that. Not for a while.

*********

It's supposed to be a run-of-the-mill ambush, so of course, they're met with the modern-day equivalent of hellfire and brimstone—in HYDRA's case, a volley of gunfire. One second, Tony's flying over a mountain pass, thanking his lucky stars that his flight suit is insulated, the next a bright blue bolt of pure energy strikes him in one of his thrusters, sending him spiraling. Another shot sends Tony plummeting towards the earth in an ironic facsimile of the Battle of New York.

The same terror grips him, that awful feeling of weightlessness and pressure all at once. He barely registers the shouts of the others over the comms before his sense finally kicks in, and he deploys the flaps meant to slow his fall.

The impact still rattles his bones, and for an awful second, Tony swears his brain is shaking around in his skull. Whatever guns HYDRA were using had to be enhanced somehow because there's no way two shots from any old machine gun would take him out so easily.

He's landed in a snowbank, thankfully. Tony always knew that there was a possibility that his suit would be his coffin, but he didn't want to bite the dust just yet.

"Pepper would yell at me," he thinks, still trying to calm his racing mind down. "And Rhodey. And Happy. And Steve. Steve—"

"Iron Man? Iron Man, do you copy?" That's Steve's voice. There's an urgent note to it, almost like he's trying to stop himself from shouting.

Tony blinks once, twice, and tries to answer him. "I'm fine, Cap. Just disoriented."

"What's your location?" Natasha asks curtly, cutting off whatever Steve was going to say. Tony can hear gunfire in the background, and hurried commands barked out in Russian.

"Jarvis?" he asks. Tony used a separate comms unit precisely for moments like these when his suit might be compromised. "You there, buddy?"

"Always, sir."

Relief floods through Tony. He's not totally helpless if Jarvis is still on the line.

"Can you send my location to the others?"

"With pleasure, sir."

"Got it," Natasha says a second later. "I'm sending Thor to you. But first, Hawkeye, let's show these boys a little reciprocity, hm?" Natasha's voice is like ice. Tony almost feels bad for those poor HYDRA agents operating those machine guns. Almost. If only they weren't the scum of the earth.

Tony can't see the quinjet anymore, but he can sure as hell hear it as Natasha unloads a barrage of bullets aimed directly at the turrets surrounding the HYDRA bunker. Never has he ever been more thankful for retro-reflective paneling. There's a pause in the gunfire, presumably from the HYDRA goons taking cover and Natasha ceasing her fire to allow Thor to reach him unharmed.

In the meantime, Tony needs to figure out what he can salvage.

"Is it just me, or do those guns remind anybody else of the Chitauri's weapons?" Clint says over the comms.

Thor lands in the snowbank, sending the snow into a flurry. He stalks towards Tony, his red cape fluttering in the wind. Lightning dances at his fingertips, and paired with the fury painting his face red, Tony would think it was directed at him.

"Iron Man? Are you alright?" Thor asks when he reaches Tony.

"I'm fine, just disoriented," Tony says, which is the truth. The snow broke most of the fall. Aside from a few minor cuts and bruises, he's alright. It's not the worst mission he's been on. Yet.

"Your suit," Thor says. "Can you fly?"

Tony looks down, observing the damage. The gunfire's resumed, Natasha and Clint aiming with deadly accuracy. Good. That makes his job easier. The thrusters in his boots are shot, but his HUD and hand repulsors are still functioning.

"Don't think so," Tony says. "Can I get a lift? I'll tip you."

Thor chuckles, some of the fierceness in his stance deteriorating. "He's alright," Thor says. "He can still joke."

"That's a relief," Clint says, actually sounding relieved. "Who else is gonna call me out on my bullshit?"

With Thor's help, Tony strips out of the armor pieces that are nothing more than dead weight until he's down to his helmet, gauntlets, and chest piece.

"Cease your fire," Thor says, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist. "We're joining the fray." And they're off. Thor's flying is different from Tony's own; Mjolnir functions as a weight, taking them into the mountain top's direction. It's completely flat on top, akin to a plateau. Every twenty feet is a gunman armed with what looks like a modified Chitauri gun. They're firing blindly, still looking out for the quinjet. "We're coming in," Tony says. "And Hawkeye, you're right. This does look like Chitarui weaponry."

"Can you say that again so I can record it?"

"In your dreams," Tony says. Thor lets go of Tony when they're safe to land. Tony rolls into the fall, landing in a crouch. The HYDRA gunman spots them, but before they can pull their handgun sitting at their waist, Tony's already fired two blasts from his repulsor, sending them flying. Thor sends Mjolnir flying through the machine gun, shattering it into hundreds of metal shards sparking and sputtering like the last embers of a fire.

"One machine gun down," Tony reports. He stalks over to the HYDRA agent he shot and takes the handgun for himself. Ignoring the agent's blank, dead stare, he looks over the gun, trying to get a feel for how it functions. It's all sleek curves and silver chrome, a current of cobalt energy coursing through it like blood. He aims the gun and pulls what he hopes is the trigger at the gunner. The HYDRA agent screams as Tony's shot makes its target, charring his skin. "Make that two," Tony says. "The north side of the base is clear."

"I'm dropping Cap off," Natasha says. "The north side is too small to land the jet."

Mere seconds later, Steve's landing near them from seemingly nowhere, looking ready to kill. His eyes looking over Tony, "You okay?" he says, his voice rough.

"I'm alright," Tony says. They can talk later. There's still a mission to finish.

"There's four gunners on the western side," Steve says. "How long do you think until they call for reinforcements?"

The thundering sound of footsteps on concrete answers Steve's question.

"Not long," Tony snarls and rounds the corner with Steve and Thor flanking him. One of the agents who abandoned the machine gun has a regular pistol aimed right at Tony. Steve moves like lightning, lifting his shield in front of Tony. The bullet ricochets and lodges into the agent's skull.

Tony will thank him later, for now, they have to keep on moving. They need to clear space for Natasha to land.

It's like he, Steve, and Thor have a telepathic link with how well they fight together, making quick work of the HYDRA agents and their alien weapons. "It could be a dance," Tony thinks, as they push forward. Thor wields Mjolnir with grace and finesse; it might as well be an extension of his arm. It's the hallmark of a person who's spent half their life spilling blood. Tony's the same when he has a gun in his hands, and this modified Chitauri gun is no different. Aiming and firing with the intent to kill, his weapons are all too happy to listen. And Steve, Steve fights with a dancer's grace, lethal power behind every one of his attacks.

If he were a religious man, he could almost believe that he was meant to do this. That he was destined to fight by their side.

The party truly starts when Natasha lands the quinjet. Bruce emerges, already going green, and it's through him that they're able to bust down the doors and breach the base.

A fierce jolt of pride runs through him at the sight of Natasha and Clint wielding the batons and bow he made for them specifically, and he fights with a renewed sense of purpose. The HYDRA agents storm them all at once, but what's fifty men and women to six pissed off Avengers?

The answer is nothing. The Hulk alone takes out ten agents, tossing them about like a child would a toy. Clint's converted his bow into its bo staff form while they're enclosed, keeping close to Natasha's side.

Only four HYDRA agents remain standing when they finally surrender. The rest lie, unmoving, the smell of blood and sweat and burned skin filling the room like a sickly perfume.

Steve sends Natasha, Tony, and Thor off with a nod, while he, Clint, and the Hulk stand guard. They have their own missions to fulfill.

Tony and Nat find the base's command center, while Thor keeps going, muttering under his breath.

He retracts his helmet, lets himself breathe. The air is stale and dank, reminding him far too much of Afghanistan for his taste.

"Easy, Tony," Natasha says when she notices him hyperventilating. "We made it. We'll be leaving soon. We just need to find what we came for."

"Right," he says. "Right." He came for SHIELD secrets; cover stories, mission files, safe houses, that sort of thing. It takes JARVIS no time at all to hack into HYDRA's system.

As he's finishing up, he overhears Natasha say, "Oh, my God."

Instantly he's on guard. "What's wrong?"

As soon as he speaks, Thor comes back into the command center, his face grave. "There's something you should see."

"But," Natasha begins.

"I believe it might be related to what you found. Follow me."

Tony doesn't know what he's expecting as Thor takes them down a series of hallways, the light growing dimmer and dimmer the further they go. He's not expecting a girl. At least he thinks it's a girl. It's hard to tell when their skin has been completely stripped off their body.

*********

Tony can't say he's paying attention during the debriefing. It's hard to when every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is pink exposed flesh. Thor had been looking for Loki's staff. They had let it stay in SHIELD's custody in 2012 and two years later were kicking themselves for it. He said that he tried to follow its magical signature, and it had led him to...that girl. Or what was left of her.

When the debriefing is adjourned, he comes away with three things. First, someone ratted them out. Second, if someone ratted them out, then SHIELD was still compromised. Third, HYDRA was conducting human experimentation.

It wasn't surprising, given their history. During the war, they had taken prisoners of war and conducted all kinds of horrific experiments on them. As far as he knew, only one made it out alive, if you could even call it living. James "Bucky" Barnes had survived HYDRA's experiments only to be subjected to a worse kind of torture.

Seventy years and HYDRA was still the scum of the earth.

By the time Tony gets an all-clear from the medics, all he wants is to take a nice scalding shower, and he does just that.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Tony can't say he's surprised when he finds Steve, still suited up, sitting on the couch with his helmet in his hands.

Tony makes himself known, knocking on the wall.

Steve's eyes flit up to meet his, and Tony's surprised to see that they're red.

"Tony," Steve breathes his name like a prayer, and it's like someone's punched Tony directly in his chest. Every time Steve says his name like that, it always leads to something electrifying. Tony's eager to see him, eager to wipe the blood and the bodies of the day's events from his mind.

He walks further into his living room, and Steve rises to meet him until they're standing chest to chest. Tony has to look up at Steve, but Steve's never held it over him like others. It should scare him, how small Steve makes him feel. But Tony doesn't feel helpless.

If anything, he has the power to bring Steve to his knees.

Steve's hands are on Tony's waist, and he's shot back to the first time they stood like this, close enough to catch each other's breath. That first time had been an exploration—an adventure in learning each other's bodies.

Steve kisses him, hot and desperate, tugging at Tony's clothes.

This time it's a reassurance.

A fevered kiss—You're okay. Every fleeting touch a "stay with me."

Tony kisses him back.

"We're okay," he whispers into Steve's mouth.

"I saw you fall," Steve's voice cracks. "I saw you fall, and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it."

Tony cups Steve's face in his hand. Steve closes his eyes, leaning into Tony's touch. When he opens them, his eyelashes are clumped with tears.

"I'm alive," he says. "I'm alive, and I'm here with you. That's all that matters. You and me."

Steve shudders. "God, Tony, I need—I need—"

"I know," Tony says, and the next few moments are naught but a blur. They kiss again and make their way to Tony's bedroom, occasionally stopping to feel each other up or get rid of a piece of clothing. When they finally make it to Tony's bedroom, they're both down to their boxers.

Idly, Tony realizes this is the first time they've messed around in an actual bedroom, especially his bedroom.

Except when Steve breaks their kiss to lift him up by his thighs and walk them over to his massive bed...when he lays Tony down gently like he's something precious...it doesn't feel like messing around anymore. Messing around put him in the mind of two teenagers fumbling around the backseat of a car, desperate to get themselves off and themselves only.

Don't get him wrong, the desperation was there as Tony wraps his legs around Steve's trim waist, but there wasn't a selfish bite to it.

Steve Rogers is desperate for love. His entire body thrums with it, in the way he slips his tongue into Tony's mouth and grips one of Tony's hips in a harsh grip, hard enough to bruise. It's fine, though. Steve will kiss every one of his bruises later as penance.

Maybe Tony shouldn't engage in such strenuous activity after another death experience, but he got the all-clear from SHIELD's medics themselves. If he sustains a concussion, that's on them.

Tony's already hard and straining against the confines of his boxers. He can feel Steve, hard and leaking pre-come through the thin fabric of his boxers.

They could come together, just like this, hell they have come together like this, but today is different. Today, Tony almost died again, and today Steve fought like a demon sent from hell for him and—

"Oh."

Tony loves him.

He's in love with him.

It's no great shock to him, not really. There's no fireworks, no lightning strikes, just a subtle shift in his paradigm, like someone zooming out on a camera.

Steve pulls back from their kiss to look at him, and Tony's gone. From Tony's penthouse suite, he has the perfect view of the sun in the evening. It's midday, and the sun, not quite setting, casts shafts of light into his room, catching the blond of Steve's mussed hair until it shines like hammered gold.

Steve has lifted the veil off of his face, and Tony can see the reverence in his gaze untempered. Tony's stomach clenches. He feels like an animal, like some feral beast has taken up residence in his skin, wanting to claim and be claimed.

"This is how Steve feels. This is how he's felt from the beginning."

He's not an artist, not like Steve, but he understands the appeal of wanting to capture a moment forever in all of its rawness. He wants to get some paints and canvas and immortalize Steve precisely as he is right now: wild and devout. To him.

Steve's thumb traces the outline of Tony's mouth and pushes at Tony's bottom lip. Steve gasps when Tony parts his lips and takes Steve's thumb into his mouth. He recovers quickly, pressing his thumb deeper into Tony's mouth. The salt of Steve's flesh coats his tongue, but for once, Tony feels like the hunter.

Steve's thumb becomes his pointer and middle fingers. Tony sucks them, lathing at them with his tongue until they're slick and glistening when Steve withdraws them from his mouth.

Tony blindly grasps for the drawer of his nightstand, rooting around until he finds what he's looking for: a bottle of lube.

He passes it to Steve, who flicks open the cap with his thumb.

"Ah," he breathes as the lube hits his skin, all cool and wet.

Steve's fingers, slick with Tony's saliva and lube, ghost around his perineum. He's thankful he had the good sense to shower beforehand, although he couldn't have foreseen this happening. Steve always caught him by surprise.

Steve starts Tony out slow, with only one thick finger working its way inside of him. The stretch, while familiar, takes some getting used to. It'd been so long since he'd truly been with another man.

A second finger joins the first, stretching Tony to the point of discomfort. In the back of his mind, Tony had always known that Steve's hands were big, but having them stretch him out was an entirely different matter.

Despite his initial discomfort, his cock is still hard, dribbling pre-come onto his stomach.

"Breathe for me, baby," Steve says, and it hits Tony then. This is the first time they've had sex. All of their other moments had been fleeting, full of fevered grinding and hot mouths and rough hands when they had time to spare.

Tony's naked in front of Steve, and he's in love with him, and he doesn't know what's worse.

"Hey," Steve says softly like he's comforting a spooked horse. "Breathe."

Tony closes his eyes and does as he's told. Some of the tension leaves his body as Steve's voice washes over him.

"You have no idea, don't you? How gorgeous you are?"

"Tell me," Tony finds himself saying. Steve's working his fingers in and out of Tony now, searching, searching…

It's getting harder to think straight.

"I'd burn for you," Steve says. "I want you so much, I'm fucking dizzy with it." Steve twists his fingers, and Tony sees starlight behind his eyes.

Steve's fingers are relentless against his prostate, scissoring and splitting him wide open.

"Do that again," Tony somehow manages to gasp out. "Fuck, Steve, please."

Steve, bastard that he is, withdraws his fingers from Tony's entrance, and if Tony whines, that's between him and God.

"I think I like you like this," Steve says instead, pressing his fingers into the meat of Tony's thighs. A shiver runs down Tony's spine at the hungry look in Steve's eyes.

"A wolf closing in for the kill."

"Like what?" Tony finds himself saying.

Steve tilts his head and runs a hand up Tony's thigh until he's tantalizingly close to cupping his cock. "Desperate. Wanting. Regardless of what you want to call it, I like seeing you as wrecked as I've felt these past couple of months."

Wrecked is definitely the right word. Tony's willpower is equal to that of a Jenga tower right now. One wrong move (or right one depending on who you ask), and he'll come tumbling down, and Steve will have to pick up his pieces.

Tony's lips part when Steve takes him into his hand, a soft gasp escaping them as he spreads the wetness of his pre-come along his cock. Heat pools low in his belly, and Tony finds himself spreading his legs wider, baring himself for Steve to use however he pleases.

"Are you going to wreck me?" Tony says.

Steve's grip tightens on his cock, and Tony bucks up into his fist, his hands flying up to make contact with Steve's skin. "I don't want to wreck you," Steve says, eyes burning. "I want to worship you."

"That's blasphemous, Rogers," Tony says. Worship. Like he's something pure. Like he's someone worth loving.

In the most shocking plot twist of his life, Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, says, "Who the fuck needs a god when I have you?"

It's a far cry from the "aw, shucks" wholesome Irish Catholic mask Steve dons, but Tony shouldn't be too surprised. This is the same man who got him off at the dinner table. And the shower. And the helicarrier.

There's still a part of Tony that thinks he doesn't deserve it, such utter devotion, such attraction (he won't dare call it the other word he's thinking of lest he get his hopes up,) but for what seems like the umpteenth time, he decides to ignore his doubts.

"This moment is mine. If he stays, or if he leaves, this will always be mine." He'll take whatever he can get from Steve with eager hands.

Steve's hand reaches for the lube once more, the other jerking Tony off at an agonizingly slow pace until he's truly hard and leaking pre-come all over Steve's fist.

Steve slicks up his cock, and Tony's toes curl at the thought of all of that going inside him. He wants it, though. He wants Steve like he's never wanted anything else in his life.

Tony isn't new to desire or lust, but the need burning inside of him like a red-hot coal consumes him in its intensity.

"Steve, please," he says, hating the desperate chord in his voice. "Wreck me, worship me, do whatever you want, just do something."

Steve swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he nods. "Fuck, Tony. Okay."

He lets go of Tony's cock, but Tony has no time to beg because he's lining himself up with Tony's entrance.

Tony can practically hear his heart beating in his chest over the sound of Steve's steady, even breathing. Steve presses into him so slowly, so carefully like he's trying not to break Tony in half.

"Fuck that," he thinks.

Tony cants his hips up, teasing Steve's cock, and says, "I can take it. I want you to fuck me, Steve."

Steve's hands clamp down on either side of Tony's hips, and Tony knows he's won this round when he sees the dark look in Steve's eyes. He plunges into Tony, fucking a sharp gasp out of him. Tony's not a virgin by any means. His playboy reputation is a well-earned one. But it's been so long since he's been full. Steve's only halfway in him, and yet Tony feels like he's in his stomach.

"Is this what you wanted?" Steve asks, withdrawing slightly to add more lube. He pushed back into Tony, the lube squelching obscenely as his hips slap against Tony's. Tony's face, his everything, is red, but he'll take it. He wants it.

"Yes," he says, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist, effectively trapping him. "I wanted you."

"You have me," Steve says, his voice hoarse and wretched. "You'll always have me."

Steve tilts his hips just slightly, but the change in angle is enough to make Tony clench around him as his cock presses incessantly against that sweet, electrifying spot inside of Tony.

They both curse, Tony at the change in angle, the lightning in his blood, Steve at Tony's sudden tightness, and Steve fucks into him in earnest.

Tony's being unmade. He's unraveling at the seams like a worn-out sweater, and Steve's stitching him back together.

Their skin is tacky with sweat and lube, and the clean-up will be awful, but Tony doesn't care as the reality of the day hits him. Tony almost died. He almost died, and he loves Steve, and he should tell him while he has the chance.

Steve buries his head into Tony's neck. "I almost lost you," he says, his voice breaking.

"You didn't," Tony gasps.

Steve doesn't say anything, just presses into Tony harder, like he's trying to seep into Tony's skin. Tony throws a hand over his mouth to stifle his moans even though it's just them, but Steve catches his hand and intertwines it with his.

"No," he says. "I want...I need to hear you."

Tony's toes curl as he nods and lets the moans he was holding back slip from his mouth untethered. If anything, they spur Steve on. His bed squeaks with each thrust, and Tony can hear Steve mumbling under his breath, a litany of "I need you," and "So tight, so good," and "Stay with me."

Tony should tell him. He should tell Steve he loves him, but something holds him back. He doesn't want Steve to think it was just a spur of the moment ordeal. He wants Steve to be sure that he loves him, that his soul has completely intertwined with Steve's, that they're one. It should be perfect.

So instead of saying I love you, he just lifts Steve's head up to look him in his face. He loves seeing the utter desperation in Steve's face, the euphoria right before he comes, loves knowing that he was the one to bring him to such heights. He sees it now. Steve's on the edge, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips all red and bitten like a smear of blood.

"Tony, I—"

Steve never finishes his sentence as Tony's tongue slinks into his mouth. Steve moans, kissing him back. One of his hands finds Tony's cock. Tony bucks into his fist, still slick with lube, digs his nails into Steve's back until they're both falling apart. Steve comes inside him with a muffled groan, filling him with a wet heat; meanwhile, Tony feels like his brain is leaking from his ears as his come spurts from his cock and paints both of their stomachs in white.

When Steve's hand strokes his cheek and comes away wet, Tony realizes that he's crying. Steve kisses his cheeks and his forehead and his nose, and when he finally goes for Tony's mouth, Tony lets out the softest, "Thank you."

Steve hovers over him. For a moment, Tony thinks he's going to say those three terrifying words. Horror and excitement alike send his stomach rolling, but Steve just says, "Anything for you."

He's not sure if he should be disappointed or relieved.

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing #my fic #my writing #marvel #mcu #nsfk #choke on me

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Contest (1 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit / Blitz / Glaz / Jäger / Tachanka x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N found herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf had)

✏️ A/N: I... ehm, am a hoe, whoops 🙊 y’all, enjoy! Thank you, Alice, for always having great dreams and for letting me write about this. 🥰 The first actual part is coming soon, I just want to write a bit more of part four to avoid dishing everything out now and making you wait for the rest.

✏️ Warnings: nothing yet, but still 18+ only for sexual themes (oral sex f/r) being discussed.

✏️ Word-count: 1,937

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

THE CONTEST | >> part two: elias >>

When Y/N entered the lounge room, the conversation was already flowing and as she was already tired from the testosterone-filled day spent at the practically almost empty base, she didn’t make much of an effort to join it. She simply reached the alcohol cabinet, poured herself some whiskey, and sat down in one of the empty armchairs, ready to allow her drink and her friends’ voices in the background to fully relax her.

The day she had ahead was another one of those boring days. She was base-bound for the time being: other teams had been sent on various missions and only a bunch of operators had been left behind “on hold”. It wasn’t that bad: it meant having some days off, but those days often felt way too long and their emptiness brought up a heavy boredom she didn’t always know how to banish.

Her head had just leaned back against the cool faux leather of the armchair when her ears picked up bits of the conversation the boys were having and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Eating pussy is not a hobby,” Glaz was saying matter-of-factly.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and the sip of whiskey that was halfway down her throat almost choked her.

“That’s something someone who doesn’t know how to eat pussy would say,” was Dominic’s reply. His eyebrows were knitted together and his lips almost pursed in disbelief at what his friend had just said. But then, when his gaze swept over and settled on Y/N, sitting right opposite him with the low coffee table separating them, his expression relaxed and his free hand, the one not holding his beer, came up to stroke his beard. “Have you ever eaten pussy so good you start considering learning how to breathe out of your ears?” he said and although he wasn’t talking directly to her, he was talking about her. He had told her just that a couple of weeks ago; he had groaned those words right against the chafed and tender skin of her inner thighs as she was still shivering with the aftershocks of her umpteenth orgasm, and she had breathlessly chuckled out loud at the mental picture that concept had painted in her mind.

At that, Marius laughed, a sound right from deep down his throat as Elias coughed in the attempt not to choke on his own drink. “You know no discretion.”

“Of course not! This motherfucker just said eating pussy can’t be considered a hobby!” Burning with disbelief, Dominic took a long sip of his beer and as he did so, he settled better in his armchair and allowed his ankles to cross as he rested his feet on the coffee table. “You learn how to eat delicious, juicy pussy, Glazkov,” he continued, the corners of his mouth curling upwards, “and then we’ll see if you still don’t change your mind.”

Timur groaned something in Russian and Alex cackled next to him. “I already know how to eat pussy, Christ. I bet I’m even better than you at it. You’re just boasting, but it’s all smoke in the eyes.”

Alexsandr proclaimed his agreement with a raise of his drink and before Dominic had the time to speak again, Y/N intervened, hoping to put an end to the discussion.

“Are you guys really arguing about your oral skills?” she scoffed, pulling her knees closer as her head leaned back against the headrest of the armchair. “How old are you, fifteen?”

“Listen, you know I’m right.” Dominic’s insistence threatened to make her smile, but hiding it was easy behind the rim of her tumbler. “You have to get down eye-level with your woman’s pussy and give it your fucking best. If you don’t go down on her like that’s the best thing you’ll ever do in your days, then you better leave the room to the pro.”

“Who, you?” Marius scoffed, eyeing his friend up and down before rolling his eyes at his Well, yeah, of course.

“Oh, fuck off. What are you, the self-proclaimed Cunnilingus Lord?”

“I don’t see anyone else worthy of that title here, so yeah, sure.”

There was a sudden uproar of “You clearly haven’t seen my women with me between their legs,” and “I’m sure you don’t even know where the clit is,” until Glaz’s voice seemed to drown out the others.

“You’re so full of bullshit, Brunsmeier.”

“I won’t let a child with his mom’s milk still on his upper lip insult me!” And while everyone’s words felt heavy and tense in the silence of the base, they all knew it was just a way to tease each other in the vain attempt to liven things up in these days’ placidity. Maybe an impromptu fight was just what they needed to have some fun.

But then, as Timur and Dominic stared each other down, Y/N’s soft laughter catalyzed the men’s attention onto something else. “I can’t believe you’re really about to fight over this. Why don’t you just sit in a circle and jerk each other off? The tension in here is palpable. When was the last time y’all had an orgasm?” She smirked and when she turned and caught Alex’s almost-shocked facial expression, something she never thought she’d one day see at the mention of sex, she chuckled some more. “You should place bets, and then come back and see who’s actually the best. The winner wins the money and the title of Cunnilingus Lord.” It was a joke, one she didn’t think would have a follow-up.

Silence ensued, and she would swear she could hear their brains work at maximum capacity as they mulled over her words. She knew how filthy-mouthed and filthy-minded these men could be — and she had spent more time with them than she had ever done before the past week — but it was still somewhat surprising to catch them red-handed as they fought about who had it bigger — or, in this case, who ate pussy out the best.

“What about a contest?” was Alexsandr’s proposal. He was sitting with his legs spread open and his hands in-between them, still holding onto his shot glass.

Everyone seemed to agree on his proposal and for a moment, as they spoke their minds, Y/N let her eyes close once more: if they wanted to challenge each other to a stupid contest, let them. The peace didn’t last long, though, because at some point, just as she was contemplating a nice bath instead of a shower before hitting the sack, someone called her name, and her eyes shot open just in time to see Dominic’s mischievous grin before it disappeared for good.

“I was saying,” he spoke up again, voice slow and measured as his feet came to rest on the floor and his legs spread a little wider, catching her eye, “that you would make an excellent judge.”

“And a partial one,” complained Marius, to which Dominic complained with a But she loves getting head! “We all know you two spend more time in the same bed than you do in separate rooms.”

She scoffed at that, more annoyed at the thought that someone would think she’d make someone else win on purpose than she was at the fact that she had just been brought into such a game. “Just because I’ve seen his dick more than I’ve seen yours doesn’t mean I don’t know how to judge good oral skills.” She frowned.

“It’s settled then.” Timur was grinning and his eyes seemed to twinkle under the lights of the room. “We eat you out, and you proclaim the winner.”

“Slow down, I never said I’d participate in your silly game.”

“But you also didn’t seem that opposed to it a second ago,” Dominic remarked. He was smirking again, and she knew he had something in mind. “You make the rules, and drop out if things start getting uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, no hard feelings,” Elias smiled, trying to look more innocent than she knew he was. “We care about you; you know we’d never push anything that could cause you discomfort.”

She eyed them all, one after the other, pondering the pros and cons of having these five men’s faces between her legs and not because of some chokehold during training. She had no problem saying yes to Dominic — she had been saying yes to him for longer than she could actually recall, and he had never disappointed. But it still felt rather weird to know that while it was just sex and they weren’t exclusive, that man was okay with that. He knew how to be possessive, but he wasn’t exactly jealous, and although they had never talked about it, she had never thought of him as someone who would share so willingly.

Unless his ego was at stake, though, apparently.

“There won’t be any dick involved,” she decided eventually. “I don’t know about clothes yet, but if I say you must keep them on, you will keep them on, understood?”

There followed a chorus of Yes, Ma’am and although her body relaxed against the leather of her armchair, she found herself squeezing her thighs together.

“No toys allowed, but fingers are fair game,” she added. “Scratch that, their use is highly encouraged. We can do it anywhere you want as long as it’s somewhere private. But absolutely no exhibitionism: there’s only going to be me and one of you in the room at a time. Only one person in a day, for God’s sake, I have other things to do other than being the judge for your stupid game.”

“Deal,” was Elias and Timur’s rushed reply and they exchanged a look at the simultaneity of the action.

“I’m not done,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I’d say the rule is only one orgasm per participant but if you’re good at it — and you’ll understand it from my reaction —, you have free reign to give me another.” It was a plain attempt at riling Dominic up because it had been clear, just a few moments ago, that he thought he was the best, la crème de la fucking crème when it came to giving head to a woman, and a sick part of her wished she could be able to challenge him that tad bit more. “I don’t care about the order you decide to follow, that’s your business. I’d just like for you to let me know at least the day prior, so that if I’m busy with something Rainbow, we can reschedule.” She sat back for a moment, thinking of something else to add, but she came up empty-ended. “Now, if you accept these rules, you’re in, otherwise forget about getting close to my pussy.”

They all agreed, and they all promised they’d be good boys and behave.

“What’s the final prize?” Alexsandr inquired after a while, almost absent-mindedly.

“The knowledge that the winner is the best in this room at eating pussy? I thought that would be enough,” she laughed. “You can bet real money, that’s your business. But,” and she stared right in Dominic’s eyes as she prepared herself for what was to leave her lips, “another go between my legs could be put up for grabs.”

Dominic’s That’s out of discussion! put the others’ exclamations of jubilee to silence. “You go down on her only once, you fuckers. That’s it.”

Her grin at his reaction only widened when Timur spoke up again.

“What are you worried about?” And then, to the others, barely holding back his laughter, “Maybe the expert isn’t really that great after all.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

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starrswife · 4 years ago

Text

What Goes On - Ringo x Reader

Friends from childhood, an unlikely pair of Liverpudlians face the challenges of growing up.

Thank you @moodysunflowergirl for beta-reading this chapter and being so kind to me.

I hope you all enjoy this series!

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - none

Chapter Summary - November, 1957, Y/n decides to concentrate on schoolwork, but a bored and restless Richard has other plans.

“Doncha half to get back to work soon?” Y/n attempted to ask, mouth full.

Everyday since Richard had dropped out of school, he bought her a pastry from the local bakery and walked her home during his lunch break. At first, the baked good had served as reparations for what Y/n said was, quote, “Abandoning me all alone in hell,” but the tradition continued to stick.

“Nah, my boss let me off early,” he walked backwards to face her, “What do ya’ wanna do? My whole day’s cleared.”

Chewing her last bite, she brushed off her hands of any crumbs. Rich gestured for her to take back the schoolbag she forced him to carry, despite knowing she would just shake her head and make him hold it for the entire walk.

“I’ve got to study, I’m sorry.”

“Again? But you’ve been at it the entire week,” he complained.

“College is a lot more difficult than our old school, Rich. But I’ll go over to yours, if you’d like. Maybe… say, tutor you a bit?”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to face the right way.

“Don’t waste your energy trying.”

She huffed, “Fine, be illiterate your entire life.”

“I’m not illiterate.”

“You can hardly spell.”

“Well, I can read.”

“Oh, lovely, at seventeen years old, you’ve got at least half of it down.”

“Lay off you prick.”

Richard made a move to shove Y/n, but she dodged it, taking off down the sidewalk.

Accepting the stupidly immature challenge, he wasted no time chasing after her.

They maneuvered through pram-pushers who gave them a friendly nod, and business men who scowled at the very sight of their smiling faces.

The icy air felt like blades against her skin as she ran, but with Richie gaining on her, she only sped up the pace. Like usual Liverpool weather, the sky kept at a gloomy grey, and the cobble walkways were darker in color, dampened by the previous night’s rain.

Y/n hopped over the puddles, not wanting to get her oxfords dirty, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to care, charging straight through them.

Reaching their turn and not wanting to give up, Y/n sprinted across the road, Rich following close behind. They screamed out of both fear and amusement when cars honked at them, or shouted, expressing their vexation.

“No!” Y/n yelled, glancing backwards. She tried to speed up, but it was too late. Richard grabbed her arm and pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her from escaping. They struggled to catch their breath, each puff coming out as white clouds, that faded into the air. It proved difficult to do so, while simultaneously in a fit of laughter.

“Let me go!”

“Surrender!”

“Never!” Y/n wriggled around in his grip, but to no avail.

“I won’t until you admit what a loser you are.”

Rich laughed, a high pitched and boyish sound that always evoked a smile from Y/n, even while she was mumbling about how much of an arse he was.

Eventually tiring out, she went limp, fully defeated.

“You give up? Say it.”

“I give up.”

“And what?”

“You win, and I’m a loser! Now get off of me.”

He obliged with a grin of triumph then stepped away, and immediately, the winter air chilled her spine as if a blanket had been ripped off of her.

Was it odd to want the warmth back? To want him to pull her closer?

She walked a bit farther away from him, deciding it was odd.

They fell into comfortable silence, enjoying their peaceful stroll as they usually did when not bantering. As the town led further into Richie’s neighborhood, the houses became more and more decrepit, tiny lots with peeling paint and splintered door frames. Abundant rubble, sad reminders of the war, had become playgrounds for imaginative schoolboys. They had grown used to these surroundings, and now, reaching 10 Admiral Grove, the dirt coated bricks and rusty letterbox had become a warm, familiar welcome.

They hung up their coats and headed up the creaky, narrow stairs to his room.

Rich slung her bag onto the bed and sighed in relief. The amount of textbooks she had to haul around made him glad he’d dropped out.

Y/n sat at the foot of the bed, grabbing her bag and pulling out a few of them.

“Mind if I practice a bit?” Richie asked, already walking towards his drums. His stepdad, Harry, had recently bought him his very own set, and he had become a menace, constantly playing, even into late hours of the night.

She groaned. She loved his drumming, really, but it wasn’t the best background noise for calculus homework. Still, she nodded for him to go ahead.

An hour passed, and Richie was now lying on the floor, twirling his drumsticks. One slipped and smacked him on the face, and he glanced up at Y/n to make sure she didn’t see that. Luckily, she was laying on his bed, fully absorbed in her history notes.

Another hour gone. Richie put on a record and cranked up the volume. Y/n made him turn it down. He resorted to making tea.

Sixty minutes later. His half-drunk tea had gotten cold and now sat solitary on his table. He was laying beside Y/n, flipping through her books and giggling about the human anatomy photos.

By six in the evening, Richard had grown fidgety and impatient.

“Y/n.”

No reply.

“Y/n.”

Nothing.

“Fine. I’ll just take a nap.”

He laid back and sprawled his limbs about the bed, making a point to bother her. With his leg over her back and an arm balanced on her head, she finally snapped at him in irritation.

“What do you want?”

He stared directly at her for a moment, then shut his eyes and pretended to snore.

Y/n pushed him off of her and grabbed a pillow to try to suffocate him.

“Someone help!”

He dramatically writhed around before going limp like a corpse.

Slowly, she lifted the pillow up, peering behind it to see his face, eyes shut with his tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

He snatched the pillow from her and pushed her over with it.

She screamed, stifling her laughs and curling into a ball as Rich whacked her with it, her schoolwork spilling off the bed.

“I hate you,” she stated as he flopped backwards, both out of breath.

“Aww,” he cooed mockingly. She threw the pillow at him and got up to retrieve the things from the floor. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s been hours, Y/n. It’s Friday night. Let’s go do something.”

“I look horrible, I don’t want to go out.”

“No you don’t, you always look nice. Can we go, please, please, please, plea-“

“Ok, fine! Let me get ready, will you?”

Like a puppy, Richie sat on the edge of the bed, watching Y/n intently as she stood in front of the mirror, trying her best to brush her wind-tousled hair with his comb. She readjusted her black headband, making sure her bangs were out to frame her face. Once finished, she grabbed a tube of rosy lipstick from her bag, and dotted just a bit on before rubbing her lips together to blend it.

It had to look natural.

Her mother had once told her she looked like a hooker for wearing full coverage makeup, and for some strange reason, she felt uncomfortable doing anything remotely feminine around her father. Even when they weren’t near, the need to appease them stuck.

She turned around, “How do I look?”

“Like a square,” he teased.

Y/n glared, and he was quick to reword his statement.

“A pretty square!”

The gusty, evening air was as cold as ever, and the two of them stuffed their hands in their pockets, trying to somehow shrink themselves into the warmth of their coats.

“What did you do at work today?” Y/n asked, shivering.

“Uhm, we really just fooled around. Roy, Eddie, and me.”

“Ah, I gotta see the Eddie Miles band in action one day.” “Actually, we renamed ourselves Eddie Clayton and the Clayton Squares. We might pick up some gigs soon, I don’t know, hopefully.”

“Oh, that’d be fab. I’ll be there for every one of your shows,” she looked up to meet his eye, “I promise.”

Richie smiled. It was small, but sincere and warm. He held her gaze just a bit longer, admiring how she looked under the yellow glow of the lampposts. The tip of her nose was pink from the cold, and the way she looked all bundled up was so... so... adorable.

He cleared his throat and turned away from her. “Thanks.”

They got on the bus to Garston, and as it was Y/n’s turn to pay the driver, she caught up to Rich when she was finished.

Even if the bus was completely vacant, the two ran up to sit on the second floor, racing to get there before it started driving again. It was just another one of their antics.

Finally arriving at Wilson Hall, the two took off their coats and followed the crowd to the dance floor. On stage was a group of rough-looking boys, playing as loud as they could with their makeshift instruments. The audience nearly matched the volume, laughing and hollering as they spun about.

“Well, c’mon then,” Richie grinned, reaching out to grab her hands.

She giggled bashfully as he twirled her, and after a bit, loosened up until the both of them were twisting wildly as if their life depended on it. Richard’s slicked back curls bobbed as he stepped, and Y/n’s circle skirt swayed proudly with her hips.

It was crowded, hot, and stuffy, but while dancing, no one seemed to care. It was electrifying, freeing, and for once they were able to forget about their hardships and stresses.

The song came to an end and the crowd gave an applause, eagerly awaiting for the next band to come on.

“I’m going for a coke, d’you want anything?”

Y/n shook her head, “I’m okay, I’ll wait here.”

Rich nodded and squeezed his way through to the bar.

She stood alone, fiddling with her fingers as the next band started and the couples began to dance.

The music now was more jazz than rock or skiffle, and everyone was paired up, swinging each other around and leaving Y/n to stick out like a sore thumb.

Looking over the room, she thought about how much better the other girls looked than her. Their dresses were sleeveless, their faces glowing with expertly done makeup, and their hair somehow curled perfectly at the ends.

She tugged off her cardigan. Would that help? It didn’t show any skin -her button down blouse preventing it- but at least it took a layer off. She glanced down at herself. Were her boobs not big enough? Nah, they were an all-right size for her age, but maybe just a little bigger would be-

“You alright, miss?”

She gasped, snapping her eyes up from her chest.

There, towering over her, was a man with Elvis-esque hair, a fitted leather jacket, and a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked older, perhaps in his early twenties, and he… just wow.

Y/n was taken aback.

“I-I’m alright.”

“How come a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a partner?”

“Oh, uh, thank you. I’m actually waiting for someone to get back, he just,” Y/n awkwardly gestured behind her, lost for words.

“Mind if I keep you company until then?”

He offered his hand to dance, and with a hesitant nod, she accepted.

The trip home was almost silent.

Y/n vaguely addressed why she was gone the whole night, and Richard said it was okay.

After a bit of a search, he’d realized she was with another guy and went off to dance with the other birds too. However, he didn’t know how things had… escalated with her and the man.

He asked if she would step out with him. He was mysterious and suave, and it was exhilarating. How could she say no? But when the nameless man pressed her against the brick alley, hands caressing her hips and waist, a sudden tsunami of uncertainty and panic crashed against her. He was nearing her lips, but the once sensual closeness had become suffocating- she couldn’t do this!

“Y/n, love?”

She blinked out of it.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been staring at the wall.”

Spewing the words before she could think them through, Y/n deadpanned, “Teach me how to kiss.”

#ringo starr x reader #ringo starr #the beatles #beatles x reader

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thatoneloser-kid · 5 years ago

Note

Can I please request Ellie surprising Aster by showing up at Aster’s first big art showing for Art school please?

She and Aster hadn't talked much at all over the past two years. There was the odd message over the holidays, birthdays, but other than that there wasn't much.

Aster never came home after her first summer, word quickly spread that she was dating a girl at college, and as much as that hurt, Ellie was proud of her, happy for her, even.

She and Paul still talked every day, which is why it wasn't odd for him to call her at ten pm on a Wednesday.

"Hey," Ellie murmured, her eyes not leaving her paper.

"Hey," Paul greeted. "Okay, so I know I'm not good at romance or nothing like that, but I have an idea."

That got Ellie's full attention. "What?"

"Aster has an art show in a small church thing for a project." Paul said. "You should go."

"Paul, I have papers to finish."

"I know you've finished them, and proof read them a million and two times." Paul shot back, and Ellie couldn't really argue, he knew her too well. "She is in Michigan, it isn't far, the train is a little under a day. Ten hours or something."

"I don't know, Paul." She said thoughtfully.

"Bold, remember?" Ellie could hear the huge smile in his voice. "Come on, El. You've told me about soulmates and stuff, and the greeks, maybe Aster is your greek… or whatever."

"That's-" Ellie smoothed her fingers over her forehead, deciding against correcting him. "Close enough, well done, Paul."

"Thank you," Paul said. "So? Will you go?"

"I don't know," Ellie sighed. "What if she doesn't want to see me, Paul?"

"You won't know for sure unless you go." Paul urged. "Come, El. Take the jump."

"Plunge," Ellie corrected absentmindedly. "Fine, okay. When is it?"

"Yes," Paul cheered, Ellie knew he fist pumped, too. "I already emailed you the ticket, don't worry, it was free."

"Free?"

"Mm, I think they needed numbers or something, but you can buy paintings. It said on the Facebook page that the money goes to the art department at the school or whatever."

Paul sent her comforting and hype messages throughout the day she was traveling, which was surprisingly helpful, especially when she looked at herself in the mirror of the seedy motel she was staying in, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black jacket to match, a simple white shirt underneath.

"Is it too much?"

"No, you look so good!" Paul assured. "Besides, I read that lesbians love girls that wear suits and stuff."

"You don't even know if she's gay or not."

"She's a little gay," Paul said, just before the phone tumbled from his hands and into the food he was making. Her curses as he scrambled to get it, and Ellie could hear his mother scold him for it. "Sorry mom." he called as he reappeared, that big smile still in place. "You look good, El. College has been good to you, you've gotten more attractive."

They had gotten over the awkwardness of Paul claiming he loved her. Turns out, he did, but not in the way he thought, having misinterpreted best friend love with romantic love.

"Thanks, dude."

"Sure," He smiled. "Go sweep her off her feet, Princess Charming."

Ellie scoffed. "I'm not charming."

"Aster is certainly charmed by you." he disagreed, but before she could question him his mother was telling him to get a move on. "Gotta go, El. Let me know how it goes!"

She had been there for half an hour and still hadn't seen Aster.

It was busy, so she wasn't really surprised, she just spent the night strolling around the church, looking at the paintings, stopping at one of the larger paintings.

She recognised it immediately, a painting of the graffiti she and Aster had made back home.

It was a little more abstract than the actual thing (Ellie would know, she had taken a picture of it when it was finished, it may or may not be her laptop background), and had the silhouette of two people standing in front of it.

Ellie loved it more like this.

"What do you think?" A voice asked somewhere to her left.

"It's… amazing. They all are." Ellie said, her eyes not leaving the painting.

"It's my favourite." they said, and Ellie turned to look at them, blinking in surprise when her eyes landed on Aster, who was wearing that stupidly charming half smile. "Brings back happy memories."

"Uh, yeah." Ellie murmured, cursing herself because she practiced this, what she would say when they met again.

"What're you doing here, Ellie?" Aster asked, no sense of malice in her voice, just curiosity.

"I, uh- Your art show, I wanted to- Paul called and told me about it, said it would be romantic if I came, or whatever." Ellie could feel herself starting to blush, especially when Aster's smile grew mischievous.

"Romantic, huh?" she took a few, slow steps toward Ellie, until she was stood directly in front of her, fingering the lapels of her jacket. "You look good, Ellie."

"So do you," And she did, dressed in a pretty green dress, her hair shorter than Ellie remembered.

"Thank you," Aster smiled, dropping her hands but not moving out of Ellie's space. "How have you been, Ellie?"

"Good, I have finished all of my school work, I think I'm ready for exams. I can't wait to get home for the summer." Ellie answered. "You?"

"Really good, getting out of that town, I feeling I- I just -"

"Like you can breathe." Ellie whispered, and Aster gave her that soft smile she had given her that day in the bathroom.

"Yeah," Aster breathed. "Exactly."

They stared at each other, Aster with a soft smile and Ellie probably looking like a dumbstruck loser.

"Aster," a hand clapped onto the girl's shoulder, and Ellie quickly looked away, taking a step back as she pushed her glasses up her nose. "Someone wants to speak to you before buying a painting."

"Of course, professor." Aster nodded, "I will be right there."

He nodded, eyeing Ellie briefly before leaving.

"Hey," Aster reached out to take a hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Will you stay? It is almost over."

"Of course."

Aster beamed at her, and Ellie swooned. "Great, have fun."

Aster disappeared, and Ellie quickly pulled out her phone to call Paul.

"Hey, have you seen her yet?"

"Dude, I was a mess." Ellie sighed.

"You at your messiest is still so much better than me at my best, and she went on two days with me. You'll be fine." Paul assured.

That was oddly comforting, in a way only Paul could be.

Ellie strolled around the room until it started to empty, then Aster found her again.

"These are the keys to my car, you can go wait inside while I clean up." Aster offered her keys.

"I can help," Ellie offered.

"Oh, you don't have to."

"I don't mind,"

Aster looked somewhat surprised, but nodded. "Okay, all of the paintings sold, so the people here will take care of that, but we need to put away the tables and stuff."

Ellie nodded, and followed Aster's lead, slipping off her jacket and setting it over a railing, rolling up her sleeves messily before helping up stuff away.

It was fine, until Ellie realised that Aster kept staring at her, or glancing over at her, and she felt herself getting a little flustered.

It was a little over half an hour before they clambered into Aster's old car. "That was amazing. Your paintings were amazing."

"Thank you," Aster looked down at her hands for a few seconds, before looking at her. "So you want to get coffee?"

"It's nine pm."

"Decaf," Aster offered. "I know a cute little place, it's open late 'cause it serves alcohol."

Ellie nodded. "Okay,"

Aster smiled. "Okay."

The cafe was small, but cosy, with sofas as well as tables, and a fireplace crackling in the corner. It was empty, it was nine pm on a Monday after all, so she and Aster settled on the safe sofa beside the fire.

"So, tell me everything." Aster probed, turning to face Ellie, tucking her leg under herself, which caused her knee to press into Ellie's thigh.

Ellie told her about college, about the small group of friends she had made, about Paul and his actually very promising future with is dumb good concoctions.

Ellie relaxed into it, and come mid night they were laughing and giggling with ease, like it was how they had always been.

Aster dropped Ellie off at the motel after they were kicked out of the cafe as it was closing.

They sat in silence for a short while before Aster spoke up. "When do you head back?"

"I'm getting the six am train tomorrow."

Aster looked disappointed, chewing the inside of her cheek as she nodded. "Can I take you to the station?"

"You don't have to,"

"I want to." Aster promised. "Pick you up at five."

Ellie nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Five."

"Goodnight, Ellie Chu."

"Night, Aster Flores."

Ellie clambered out of the car, only getting a few steps away before Aster was calling after her. "Ellie?"

"Mm?" Ellie turned to her, and Aster grinned cheekily at her.

"Did you find something to believe in?"

Ellie nodded, somewhat thoughtfully. "Yeah. Myself."

That seemed to be better than Aster had hoped for, if that beaming smile was anything to go by. "You're amazing, Ellie."

Ellie didn't know what to say to that, nodding once awkwardly before waving and disappearing inside.

Ellie didn't sleep much that night, too restless, her mind running wild with the events of the day.

Aster was outside bang on five, giving Ellie the one over as she smiled.

"What?" Ellie asked, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands self-consciously.

"You look cute." Aster shrugged simply before driving off. "I think I'm going to come home this summer. Dad asked me to, I don't know if he wants to try and fix things."

"That’s good, right?”

“I’m hoping so, but we will just have to wait and see.” Aster shrugged. “I’m excited to be back, it has been so long.”

“Everything is the exact same.” Ellie said. “I’m trying to convince Paul to go for a scholarship in culinary school, but he said he couldn’t leave his family like that.”

“He’s too loyal, that guy.” Aster shook her head.

“I have applied for a whole bunch of scholarships for him for the new school year, and I’m going to talk to his family when I get home, to see if they could convince him to go.” Ellie said. “He is wasted in that town.”

“He dropped off a little cooler to my place the first summer I came home, ding dong ditched.” Aster laughed fondly. “Left a note apologising about everything that happened. It was his famous sausage tacos, they are really good.”

“I know, right?” Ellie said, fiddling with the sleeves of her hoodie as they pulled up outside the station. “You know we never wanted to hurt you, right?”

Aster shut off the car, chewing the inside of her cheek as she nodded slowly.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I didn’t get the chance to explain myself.”

Aster glanced at the clock on her dash. “You have twenty minutes before you should go inside.”

Ellie nodded, taking that as a go ahead to continue.

“It was only supposed to be one letter, Paul asked me to help because he was convinced he loved you, and you should have heard the first letter, Aster, it was awful, he talked about his dead grandma.” Ellie laughed, and Aster grinned softly. “The real reason I did it was because I’m stubborn and he challenged me, but I didn’t have a clue about love either.”

“So, you plagiarised Wim Wenders?” Aster arched an eyebrow at her.

“Exactly,” Ellie laughed. “But then you wrote back, and now you were challenging me, so I said to myself it would just be one more. It was just so easy to talk to you, I felt like we just clicked, even thought you thought I was Paul, I still felt special, somehow? I had your attention, you wanted to speak to me, and that made me feel so incredibly special, and it was hard to stop. I enjoyed just sitting in my booth, texting back and forth about really personal shit or what our favourite hand soaps were, it didn’t matter. I just enjoyed getting to know you. But i’m sorry that I did it how it did, and that I lied to you.”

“You know, I probably would have been just as happy had those letters been signed off by you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. Maybe now, but back then, you weren’t ready back then.”

“Maybe not. But now? I wouldn’t want to get a letter signed from anyone else.” Aster gave a little smile. “And the kiss?”

Ellie flushed. “I just- I couldn’t leave without kissing you.”

“Not our kiss,” Aster smiled, her Ellie felt like her face was on fire “Between you and Paul.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. “That was Paul thinking he loved me. And he did, just not the way he thought, we are best friends. But that was nothing, we were never, like, making fun of you or anything. Honestly, we were both just enamoured by you.”

Aster nodded. “You know, back then I convinced myself that I was so mad because I was so jealous of you.” She laughed softly. “I know now that’s not true, I was jealous of Paul.”

It took Ellie a stupid amount of time to realise what that meant, and when her head snapped to Aster, she was staring at her with a mischievous smirk.

“That I’m sure of now.”

“Yeah?” Ellie breathed.

“Yeah,” Aster’s smile softened. “But we still have two years of college left, we shouldn’t start anything when it is going to be long distance from the start.”

“That’s the only reason you wouldn’t want to start anything?” Ellie asked, peering up at Aster through her eyelashes as she pulled on her sleeve.

“Yeah,” Aster hummed, covering Ellie’s fidgeting hands. “If we were closer I would take you out tonight.”

“But we can’t?’

“No, not long distance, Ellie.” Aster said, and Ellie understood, agreed, even, but that didn’t make it suck any less. “Hey,” Aster whispered, bringing Ellie's eyes back to her. "What's a couple more years, right?"

"Right," Ellie smiled. "I should go, you know it can take a while to get through the turnstiles."

"Of course." Aster agreed, leaning across the centre console to press a kiss to Ellie's cheek. "Text me when you get home?"

"Sure," Ellie grabbed her hand and clambered out, trying and failing to hide how flustered she was.

"Ellie?" Aster called, peering at her through the passenger side window. "Thank you, for coming. It was really good to see you."

"It was amazing." Ellie said. "Drive safe, Aster."

"Bye, Heathen."

Ellie found herself smiling at the nickname, giving a little wave as she headed inside.

Paul called her just as she got on the train. "So? How was it?" he asked, and Ellie could tell his mouth was full of food.

"It was really good, actually. She left me explain, and we hung out for a bit last night."

"Dope. So, are you guys, like, dating now?"

"No, a couple more years."

Paul groaned loudly. "You guys are so weird."

#The half of it #ellie x aster #aster flores #Ellie chu

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unironicduncanstan · 4 years ago

Text

the “Tangodeltaindia” blog explained,

aka my brain has cringe spots on it and needs to be inspected by the FDA

hi my names randi/uni and i created a total drama island themed ARG two months ago on a whim that almost no one interacted with bc i started off way too niche and difficult, so i kinda just went increasingly off the rails because i knew most likely no one was monitoring my posts and i could just make a real cursed hidden tomb that could one day be discovered by someone in a goonies esque unveiling. but then i got lice and now im sad and uncomfortable so i’m just gonna explain the entire damn thing in one shot. its absolutely batshit and theres a reason no one uncovered it ok here we go;;;

first of all the name. its so stupid but. ‘tango delta india’ = ‘tdi’ in the NATO phonetic alphabet. it just felt like a funny place to start that implies its gonna be a puzzle blog idk,

moving on to the actual content tho; some of the earlier posts mean p much nothing and were just an attempt to draw people in, such as the mr coconut ‘like if you agree’ or the ‘let him inside hes cold’ posts.

then theres the cipher (x). it was posted shortly after the height of the ‘using total drama reference pictures to make an alphabet’ meme. in case anybody didnt see that; for a while it was a joke in the fandom to take the transparent references of total drama characters, and line them up, using them like hieroglyphics to make translatable pictures. its supposed to correspond to the alphabet, based on the first letter of their first name. an example could be, alejandro = a, bridgette = b, and so on. there was no solidly set alphabet amongst the fandom though, it was self explanatory most of the time so i made my own solid personal cipher key for that blog to make the whole thing easier.

NOW ONTO THE FIRST PUZZLE POST,,,, (x). theres a scene, a string of text, the cipher key, and a link to a decoder. the way to decode it all is to plug the characters on screen into the tangodeltaindia cipher key, and then plug That translation into the decoder website, and then finally paste in the text under the photo.

the website linked is to a Caesar cipher decoder. the Caesar cipher is just a code where the alphabet is assigned to numbers (a=1, z=26), and to encode something with it you can move this pattern however you want as long as you keep the regular sequence of alphabet and numbers. so you could scootch over One letter, and “abc” would now say “bcd”. so on and so forth.

looking at the scene + my own total drama reference cipher, alejandro = A, and the beaver = 1, which gives A1. so you could now follow the link to the website, press ‘decode’, and paste in the text under the picture. the ‘shift’ in the middle is automatically set to ‘7′, or as it shows, a -> h, meaning ‘a’ has been moved over by 7 letters. so if you set the shift to just 1 over, or A1, now you can translate the text. it reads;

“lets start simple. after all, a trail of breadcrumbs begins with a loaf. whats the harm in another long winded fandom meme. another inside joke. and arent you curious whats truly lurking inside?”

edgy! simple! kinda just a test to see if people would do it or not. which they didnt so of course i tried to make it weirder-

puzzle 2; (x) using the exact same translation rules as above. we have alejandro and the snake, which with the tangodeltaindia cipher key means A6. going to the website, putting it in ‘decode’ mode, pasting in your text, and setting the shift to ‘6′ gives you this translation.

“in his eyes are an island. nothing but a dream, born out of going to bed angry. sink or swim.”

this was just hinting around at where the story was gonna go so it’ll make more sense later. something else to note; if you zoom all the way in and look into alejandros eye (’in his eyes’), you’ll see the word ‘Thera’. ~thats a surprise tool that will help us later~

so after this one, there are two non-puzzle posts that are also just hints (i was just tryna see if i could get people hyped), the first is a close up picture of chris with red eyes that simply says “those arent his eyes”, and then a post that says “his real names not chris :)”, they’re again referencing his eyes, and this time further implying theres something fake or wrong about them, or with chris as a person. again, it’ll be explained better later on.

moving on to puzzle 3 (x), another test to see if anyones keeping up (which also failed josdfjsdfkjs), using the same translation rules, dj = a dash or minus, and the snail = 5, “-5″, shift the letter ‘A’ BACK five instead of forward, and you get the simple translation of; “getting harder now.”

puzzle 4 and 5; at this point, there are two images posted within hours of each other that i’ll explain together as they line up. (x) (x)

These are some of the only ones that can be translated from just the tangodeltaindia key directly. They end up a string of numbers, which are latitude and longitude coordinates. The first post, labelled “the lie”, translates into “45.57394802102744, -81.46817207492494″. googling that will take you to maps and show you to a place called Lonely Island in Canada.

The second one, “the truth”, translates into “36.404663113177534, 25.39605673375295″, taking you to Santorini, Greece.

This is where the hints got really out there bc i realized nobody was following along but i still wanted to paint a picture. so this is the set up;;; the idea that the ‘island’ (camp wawanakwa) existing somewhere in canada, is a lie. the ‘true’ location being santorini isnt meant to be taken at face value though. the mythology behind santorini is that a man impregnated a goddess and to escape the wrath of her father (triton), she formed the island (santorini) by having her lover throw clay into the sea, and then she gave birth to her son, Theras, on this island, giving the island it’s Other nickname, Thera.

this is again just a vague implication that the island might not be real at all, or that it was formed through cosmic means.

the next two posts are more non-puzzle hints, the first showing the definition of the word ‘fresh’ (new), and the second being images of total drama backgrounds with no characters and the text reading “they were always empty.” more, admittedly very outlandish implications that the island is some kind of illusion, but again mostly just another try to drag people into the blog.

puzzle 6. (x) this one introduces a new concept to the regular translation rules, some of the characters are laying down. its kinda supposed to imply they’re “dead” and that you need to take their corresponding letters out of the alphabet given on the Caesar cipher page, below the shift. The upright characters translate to “-9″, so you shift ‘A’ back 9 letters. Then remove the letters; “TH-E-R-A-S”, and with those letters taken out, you can finally translate the text.

“he creates life solely to destroy it. to crush it in his hands. he births chaos so that he may have something to control. the power has given him madness. the isolation, arrogance. don't try to stop him, he's already chosen to be unstoppable. his mind is a perfectly crafted prison, one we will all soon be living in.”

this is where the story gets more on the nose. it’s talking about chris, and about him being an unstoppable cosmic force, a diety who can create worlds within his own mind, and he does so maliciously just for power. hes created the campers through mental energy just to torment them. it also hints that his plan is to expand the world of total drama island and engulf the whole universe.

puzzle 7. (x) same as the last puzzle. beaver and moose translate to ‘1-0′ or ten. the characters lying down to remove from the caesar cipher alphabet are “T-U-L-P-A”. this doesnt have anything to do with the modern way some ppl interact with tulpas but just the actual idea of creating thoughtforms, or willing your thoughts into real life creations, referencing how chris has created the entire island and everyone on it solely through his mind. with those letters removed and the shift set forward 10, you get this:

“his psychic power is unfathomable. the reality he bore was just a passing thought. an idea that became so dangerous. he predates the idea of a mind, the minds own ability to recognize itself, his synapses are paradoxically ancient. the island exists only within himself, to torment the souls hes created, and damned from the start. will they ever be free?”

it states that chris is more than a man or even just a diety, hes an all powerful god already, yet he craves more power. the final line, “will they ever be free” is in reference to the campers, which segways into the next arc;;; freeing the campers from chris’ psychic island imprisonment.

puzzle 8. (x) to solve this one you have to translate the top image with the tangodeltaindia cipher key, and add it to the text given, which creates a link. this leads to a PDF, a page from a book written by terence mckenna. he’s a famous ethnobotanist known best for his studies on DMT, the strongest hallucinogenic drug in the world, its also known as the spirit molecule. many people on this drug (without any prior knowledge of this phenomenon) will recount meeting strange fractal beings that can create things in the universe just by speaking them into existence, theyve come to be known as ‘machine elves’, a term coined by mckenna. ill show the most important excerpt from the page;

this is less about the psychedelic drug part and more about the words and ideas, like “punching a hole through a dimension so it pours through” and “if god didnt exist man would invent him”. its more worldbuilding towards chris’ power and cosmic abilities

then come 2 more clues. a picture of chris holding his own body captioned ‘ego death’, and the meaning behind the name ‘chris mcclean’. the latter is another “please look over here” post, but the first is another minor reference to the previous puzzles answer involving DMT and terence mckenna. ‘ego death’ is a term again used with strong psychedelic drugs, its the sensation that your spirit as you know it is literally Dying, and you are instead connected to and a part of everything around you. another reference to chris’ power and how he may look like a man but his body and spirit are connected to the world hes built in unfathomable ways. at this point im cementing the idea that chris mclean is not a mortal man and cannot be fought with mortal weapons

puzzle 9. (x) this one was an attempt to make easier to solve puzzles, and comes with a visual of chris looming over the island. the text is in wingdings, which can be translated through multiple websites found through google. it says;

“s︎o︎o︎n︎ h︎e︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ s︎l︎e︎e︎p.︎ h︎e︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ d︎r︎e︎a︎m︎ a︎ n︎e︎w︎ h︎e︎l︎l︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ b︎e︎ o︎u︎r︎ o︎n︎l︎y︎ c︎h︎a︎n︎c︎e︎,︎ t︎o︎ s︎a︎v︎e︎ h︎i︎s︎ c︎r︎e︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎s︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ f︎r︎e︎e︎ t︎h︎o︎s︎e︎ w︎h︎o︎ w︎e︎r︎e︎ n︎e︎v︎e︎r︎ d︎e︎s︎i︎g︎n︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ f︎r︎e︎e︎.︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ m︎a︎y︎ c︎o︎m︎e︎ a︎t︎ a︎ c︎o︎s︎t︎.︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎i︎g︎h︎t︎m︎a︎r︎e︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ e︎n︎d︎,︎ t︎h︎e︎ o︎u︎r︎o︎b︎o︎r︎o︎s︎ o︎f︎ h︎i︎s︎ s︎y︎n︎c︎o︎pe︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ c︎l︎o︎s︎e︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ i︎t︎ m︎a︎y︎ t︎u︎r︎n︎ o︎u︎r︎ e︎f︎f︎o︎r︎t︎s︎ o︎f︎ s︎a︎l︎v︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ t︎o︎ d︎u︎s︎t︎.︎ o︎u︎r︎ f︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ m︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ e︎n︎d︎ i︎n︎ s︎a︎c︎r︎i︎f︎i︎c︎e︎,︎ r︎e︎n︎d︎e︎r︎i︎n︎g︎ h︎i︎s︎ l︎a︎s︎t︎ i︎n︎v︎e︎n︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ b︎u︎t︎ a︎ c︎e︎a︎s︎e︎l︎e︎s︎s︎ v︎o︎i︎d︎.︎ w︎e︎ m︎a︎y︎ s︎e︎e︎ h︎o︎r︎r︎o︎r︎s︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ c︎a︎u︎s︎e︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎t︎a︎r︎s︎ t︎o︎ s︎h︎u︎d︎d︎e︎r︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ w︎e︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ t︎a︎ke︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ c︎h︎a︎n︎c︎e︎.︎ w︎e︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ n︎o︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎o︎ l︎o︎s︎e︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ a︎ w︎o︎r︎l︎d︎ o︎f︎ n︎o︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎n︎e︎s︎s︎ t︎o︎ e︎n︎d︎.︎ m︎a︎y︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎e︎a︎ s︎w︎a︎l︎l︎o︎w︎ u︎p h︎i︎s︎ i︎s︎l︎a︎n︎d︎ o︎f︎ l︎i︎e︎s︎.︎ g︎o︎d︎ pr︎o︎t︎e︎c︎t︎ y︎o︎u︎.︎”

this is essentially saying that the island, the campers, werent all just created from his mind, but from his dreams. this confirms that he Sleeps, and claims hes going to sleep again soon, and during that time period theres a chance to kill him before he can dream up another world (or season) to control and torment. its also saying that theres a chance killing him will destroy the island and campers, but that its the only choice we would have to end the cycle. hey guys i am so bored and over the years i have been on every stimulant and anti depressant doctors are legally allowed to prescribe and its still just not quite there yet huh

puzzle 10. (x) the video, the title translates to “the island of his eye”. its just meant to encapsulate everything ive already been hinting around at but with real footage and some audios taken from the show, and again, it was me tryna make some lore that was easy to digest and also terrifying to an audience with no other context. the final images are the only new clues, if you pause fast enough you can barely make out the characters that (paired with the tangodeltaindia cipher key) would say “set them free”, and you can also see an aerial view of what is actually called “the eye of argentina”. it is a real island that rotates atop a swamp, it is geometrically perfect and no one really knows for sure why it rotates the way it does or how it was formed. this clue is simply related back to the idea that the island of wawanakwa’s location is not in canada, and that it does not function like a normal island.

puzzle 11. (x) what td blog is complete without a uquiz? anyways, it doesnt matter how you answer the quiz, theres only one possible result. the title is a link to a mega file, which is protected with a decryption key. the image attached to the result, when deciphered, is the randomly generated key to the unlock the file. the image you see from the file is this; (TW for mentions of self harm and eye trauma)

in case this is too hard to read ill transcribe what it says;

“How to escape the dream - accept that there is no dream to escape, and no you to escape it. - believe in it anyways. - sleep on your back. - cover your eyes. - hide a nail under the pillow. - wait for the ringing. - when you first see him, dont call his name. dont speak. - keep your eyes shut. - on the second night, ask where the camp is. he wont respond verbally. - on the third night, you’ll see his eyes. - on the fourth night, you’ll enter them. - you can’t turn back after the fifth night. - don’t try to hide your fears. he knows them before you arrive. - don’t shut your eyes for too long when it becomes too much. you risk losing them. - find chris mclean. - don’t stop till the nail is through the socket. - repeat on the other side. - repeat on yourself. - congratulations. they are free”

this is, believe it or not, an idea that comes from my very own sleep paralysis experiences. ive dealt with it a lot, so why not make a weird ritual thing for an arg based off it ig. so whenever i’d fall asleep on my back, i’d eventually hear this ringing in my ears (or it’d happen upon waking up), and then the sleep paralysis would begin. i only ‘saw’ stuff a couple times but the fear for me was really more about the overwhelming sensation of pure dread that always came along with it even when i was aware what was happening, and i Always got this feeling too that if i opened my eyes in that moment, something was gonna stab them.

so moving on to how that applies to the arg, the first few lines are about how, obviously, the island is not real, even in the lore being given its a figment of chris’ imagination, but you have to enter it anyways, and the only way to do that is to believe its real. then it tells you how to ‘enter’ that world, (btw i didn’t expect anyone to actually follow these instructions if found, but even if they did, the whole ‘sleep paralysis being caused by sleeping on your back’ thing usually only happens if you’re predisposed to having it and only happens to Some people who have it, so the intent was like. never to bring that upon anybody. but if you are prone to sleep paralysis plz do not attempt even as a joke or anything thx)

the parts about hallucinating chris then are as follows, “ask about the camp / he wont respond verbally” , meaning he will show you through a dream instead, one that might look a lot like the video from before. “on the third night you will see his eyes”, meaning you will see the island but not be able to interact with it, or basically, how we see total drama on tv right now. “on the fourth night you’ll enter (his eyes)” references the island existing ‘within his eyes’, meaning you will enter the actual island. the next night chris will sleep and you will be able to enter the island again and find him. the idea with the nail is that, if you destroy his eyes you destroy the ‘island’ within them. wrapping back around to sleep paralysis, the idea of stabbing yourself with the nail afterwards is because sometimes, the only thing you can move during sleep paralysis is your fingertips and toes, and wiggling those can help bring you out of the paralysis. so at first how i used to wake myself up, but it didnt usually work fast enough so oftentimes id just pinch the shit out of my fingers and use pain to make my muscles start up faster.

the next post is a link to a countdown. again, i knew nobody was rly following at this point, but i wanted a little more build up before just dropping the ending. it was set up to end 5 days after the last post, aka the one that mentioned a 5 night dream ritual.

puzzle 12. (x) going all the way back to the normal multi step translation puzzles. the coloring of the cipher is a bit different, and its missing chris, but its meant to be used the same as it was before, these changes are only for dramatic effect. and chris is gone because well. we mentally offed him in the inception dream land last time. so anyways the snake = 6, shift A to 6, take out the letters “R-I-C-K” of the characters laying in their graves, and you get this translation;

“its almost time. we must now crack open our minds like a crowbar to a sealed chest. like an egg to a pan. to find our way into camp wawanakwa our ego cannot remain intact, and to traverse it we must stay strong. to escape it, we must glue the pieces back together. now we sleep. dream. end the nightmare.”

this is a final message before ‘entering the island’ to kill chris and free the campers from the island. it acts like a pep talk.

the next post is just the countdown ending.

puzzle 13 (the finale). (x)

this post sends you to a new blog entirely, called @awakenfromthenightmare. there is only one post on it. the post has another link to a mega file, and the link is attached onto a string of text. follow the link by clicking, then copy the text and paste it in as the decryption key. now you have another image to translate with the tangodeltaindia cipher;

when translated, the text is another link to a youtube video.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

so there you have it, that video is the ending to the entire arg. it didnt really end the way i wanted at first, i got burnt out from no engagement about halfway through which isnt anybody elses fault, but i still felt this was a well crafted and fitting finale. thank you all for reading.

#tw self harm ment./ //#tw eye trauma / //#tw unreality// //#tw drug ment/ //#long post/ //#like a mile long just look at the tws its a rabbit hol e

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