#what do you know about whimsy what do you know about having fun and being yourself

[tiger-balm]

skipping into the eastern conference final

[fabcreature]

in my post about the muppet christmas carol and kermit and piggy's hypothetical kids and interspecies muppet reproduction, i am acting quite serious and really dramatic, because it's funny you know. it's the muppets and we're discussing something meaningless on the internet - of course i'm being dramatic for the laughs

but the amount of people in the notes interpreting the conversation as people (me and others commenting) actually being angry or serious.

they're making me go apeshit.

[whimsyprinx]

do y’all think stars are happy

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[dieinct]

i was just talking about this after being wrecked by the discovery that the little elf-goblin fellows my parents/family used to tell me warnings and stories about as a little kid are regionally specific, and that you can trace people's geographic origins by what word they use for "little spirit-fellows who live in your house". no matter what you call them (domovoi, kobolde, brownies, so on); for purposes of this post henceforth "little guys"

i think one of the things that i find frustrating about like, idk, modern animist revivalist movements is that very few of them ime spend a lot of time romanticising and spiritualizing human habitation. obviously, we as a culture need to think more about protecting and defending nature/the earth/so on, but like.

if you don't have room in your heart for making up a little guy who lives in the water heater, or who squats under your stove and makes it run 15 degrees off the programmed temperature, and thinking of him with the same kind of respect/affection as you do for the spirits (or whatever) of the wildlife you interact with like.

genuinely: what are you even doing. you are removing a source of richness and fun and whimsy from your life! like, pip @creekfiend made up the concept of "little guys who live in an airport (and are the reason it's so shitty to be in an airport)" and i already like airports like 30% more just knowing it's the little airport inconvenience guys doing that.

more importantly, like. genuinely: interrogate what parts of the world seem ~rich with spiritual meaning~ to you. what parts of the world are "wild"? what does that make the rest of the world - a chore? a burden? who has to carry that burden?

we're never going to like, "return to nature", because that's nothing and the concept of untouched nature is also nothing; we're always going to have some sort of human habitation and interaction and cultivation with nature. if you can't extend grace and whimsy and genuine and sincere meaning to human habitation, including its inconveniences and annoyances, you are making your own lived experience duller!

notably, most of these kinds of little-guy-spirits historically exist in the parts of human habitation that are partially abandoned, partially removed: haylofts, inside the walls, under the house, in the bathhouse, behind the furnace... i've been thinking a lot about urban wildlife lately, and the animals who make space for themselves in and around human habitation. the "natural" and the "wild" persist inside and around the edges of the "tame" and always, always have. if you have a crawlspace, there's a little spirit who lives there and he's the reason the dryer always eats your socks.

LIVE WHIMSICALLY.

[ja3yun]

Push My Buttons | L.HS

bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!

_____

Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.

"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.

Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.

You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.

Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.

To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 

It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 

Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.

With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.

Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.

He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.

You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.

“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”

Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.

“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.

“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.

Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.

With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.

The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.

“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.

"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt

The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.

Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 

“I don’t work here, I-”

“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.

Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration

But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 

Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.

As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.

You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.

Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.

Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 

You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.

“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 

Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 

“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 

You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.

Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 

This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.

Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.

You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.

Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 

It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 

With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.

_____

As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.

Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 

The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.

A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 

“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.

“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.

Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.

But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.

You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.

As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.

His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.

You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.

“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.

Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.

Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..

"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.

"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.

Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.

"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.

Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.

It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.

Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.

You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.

"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.

“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.

“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.

The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.

You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.

“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.

Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.

Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.

"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.

You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.

Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."

This is going to end disastrously.

_____

"Remember—"

"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.

Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.

You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.

"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.

He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'

As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.

The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.

Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.

It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.

Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.

"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.

Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.

"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.

True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.

As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.

Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.

Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.

And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.

Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.

Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.

This is what he has to tell himself every day.

He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.

As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.

But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.

"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.

You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.

Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."

You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.

Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."

His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.

Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.

As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.

You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.

But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 

"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.

"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"

Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.

Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.

His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.

Either way, you need to get this steam out. 

“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 

As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.

Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.

But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.

Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.

"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.

“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.

As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.

Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 

“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.

"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.

His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"

“Yes! Obviously!”

Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.

But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.

Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 

He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.

With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.

Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 

Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.

The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.

Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."

A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.

But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.

With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."

“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.

“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”

Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.

He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.

With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.

Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.

Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.

Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 

As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.

“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.

Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.

With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”

Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.

Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.

“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”

Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.

He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.

“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”

Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.

The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.

“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.

You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.

[dexaroth]

it's kind of a fun move to make my very very personal blog also the one I post my drawings on

ive purposefully done it to not create that kind of environment where it's just an account posting art, a one-dimensional abstract thing that's so detached that if I were to post something like 'teehee I tried to off myself so I'm opening comms to pay the bills' it'd be met with utmost surprise bc it'd break the illusion yknow?

but sometimes I do want some drawings to not have context. to be as impersonal as a vintage figure whose sculptor has never been fully known or a golden locket with the picture of someone who you don't know anything about

I want both, to be honest. it's always been a struggle of the need of external validation but also to not want to taint everything with myself

I want to draw a pet portrait for someone and not have it be judged with all the ramblings and half-jokes about how everything sucks every now and then.

I want to draw a guy being mechanically separated for no reason and not have it show up besides someone's pet portrait and having to explain to the average person I don't even know why I like gore so much besides rendering it is fun

it's all like a cycle of making it clear who is behind the art for context but also sometimes wanting everything to speak for itself and wanting a sort of pure reaction to it

and it culminates into that overly familiar feeling.. of wanting to be consistent. to have a feel, a look that you can maybe hope someone will identify as yours.. and the question is always the same - for what? why? why does it matter?

if anything the first thing I'd ever say to someone who remotely showed interest in art and wanted to know my side of it is that nothing matters and everything is subjective and that there will always be people who see too much meaning where there isn't and people who miss the point entirely. and that diversity is just as good as quality and not a binary switch that you have to pick for the rest of your life. and that often by trying to achieve perfection you just end up dumping what gave your art a personal touch because it wasn't absolutely on par with the version of you that you so desperately want people to identify you with or the vibe you want to give off or whatever else

it's kind of a problem that also has different connotations depending on the way wherever you post works, too

on devart and I think insta too favorites and likes are the easiest way to show a kind of support that happens to streamline everything into images on a page instead of actually taking in most detail, the title or description or lack thereof, maybe even a message or line or music lyric intended to aid in the perception.. that ends up getting completely ignored because it takes extra effort to do. and it gets exponentially worse the more people you follow

then, well.. tumblr. because of the way the posts are organized and at least show captions it has a bit of a leg up, but then the sideblog stuff comes up. posts 95% of the time only give traction to the account that posted it, so a sideblog where you reblog your art is pretty much just a gallery for the convenience of whoever follows them. if you post on that sideblog however, then that facilitates no one visiting your main and just looking at the drawings, leading to the art-artist detachment as it is also plenty of extra steps and effort

then, independently, the path you choose is hard to undo. choose to be unknown and be bound to the façade you have to keep and not break your persona, or put all bits of yourself out to the public and there will forever be an image/ background version of you that will contextualize everything you do

try to turn around and choose to hide and it will put people off and affect how some will look at your new stuff now that you're less of a social butterfly because of the instinct of curiosity and wanting to know what happened , choose to show yourself and now you're too real and people don't want to associate with you because of the things you express or how it hits different knowing x and y or just not caring about you enough to be bothered to keep up with your life with sporadic drawings inbetween

it's all ironically about your own self-image and knowing others who know you

oh and it just hit me the financial side of things too. but that's too much for me rn and it's sort of a bonus to my point anyways

idk man. I feel like I'm having a stroke while an influencer tries to explain branding to me

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Four// W.W.

Warnings/Info: cursing, fluff, lots of Wonka whimsy, Willy liking pregnancy boobs

It worked. Everything went according to plan, and your husband has no reason to believe that he wasn’t the father of your baby.

With time, your belly started to grow more and more, and luckily, so did Willy’s chocolate sales.

You were about four months along in your pregnancy when Willy gave you the news that he had bought the chocolate shoppe. He was beaming with glee and you were overjoyed for him. You wanted to help him, so you said, “How about I come and work for you?”

“Oh, no no, no heavy lifting for you, or being on your feet for hours.” he said firmly as he caressed your belly.

“Not even just as the cashier, Willy? I haven’t had a job in years since I’ve been a wife. I’d love to get back out into the world again. And be with you, of course. I’ll keep a stool nearby to sit in if I get tired, if that would make you feel better.”

Willy sighed, then he grinned at you, “Okay, you can work the register. I know that I can count on you. You did promise to help run the business side of things.” He took your hands in his, “Things are happening, y/n. I’ve saved enough money to not only to but the shoppe, but also to rent an apartment nearby. I know it won’t be as spacious and comfortable as what you’re used to, but this is just the beginning. I want you to live with me. And if things keep going the way they have been, you’ll be living like a Queen, and our baby will be the prince or princess of the Wonka chocolate empire.” Willy had put his forehead on yours.

"Oh, Willy, you have already made me the happiest woman in the world. I just know that you-that we will have everything we dream of, I'm happy to work hard, and to be with you and our child."

You and Willy were so absorbed in one another and your daydreaming, that you didn't even hear the front door of your home open.

"What. The. Fuck?" it was your husband, home early and unexpectedly from work.

You and Willy looked over at Mr. Hudson, both in shock. You didn’t know what to say.

“John, how-"

“What a fine day this is, huh? I come home with a sniffle to find my wife with the fucking…chocolate salesman?”

“John, it’s, it’s not what you-well it is actually…”

“That’s it, y/n! Tell me what the hell is going on here.” he yelled, approaching you, towering over you with his height, and actively trying to intimidate you. This was the side of him only you saw.

“John,” you trembled, “this baby isn’t yours, it’s his. I’m in love with him.”

“Ha, well you can go ahead and be in love in the streets for all I care. Get your clothes and get the hell out of my house.”

You were scared, not necessarily of John, but to leave the only home you knew. You were glad that John didn’t say or do anything to Willy.

Willy was with you as you packed, and he held your hand on the way out of the house. You thought that maybe it was a good thing that this has happened now, rather than drag it out any further.

“Alright well, let’s go check out that apartment.” Willy said in his cheery voice to help make you feel better. You knew that you were going to be happy with this man, no matter what.

You were able to close on an apartment that day, well, Willy was, as you didn’t have an income yet. But that soon changed as you went to work together in the chocolate shoppe. Within days of opening, you were making good money.

You balanced the cash drawers, and the accounting books as Willy worked hard on his sweet creations. The candy he made was as tasty as ever, and the shoppe was an absolute dream. Hoverchocs, giraffe milk macaroons, edible flowers, and lollipops as far as the eye could see. It was a whimsical, colorful, joy to behold, with a giant winding cherry tree in the middle of the shoppe. There were pink cotton Candy clouds that you could climb upon, you and Willy would sit on them and have some chocolate milk, and then eat the tea cups.

It was the most fun you’d ever had in your life. It also felt amazing to help build something from essentially nothing, and to be creative with him.

Even at home, Willy would be inventing new flavors and trying new techniques and asking for your input of course.

...........

As you went into the later months of your pregnancy, you and Willy were able to buy a house. It was no mansion, but it was big enough to accommodate a young couple and their new baby, and maybe another child down the road.

You would be at the shoppe all day, resting adequately, of course. Willy eventually gave you an office in the back room to do your accounting work, which was good for you as you were heavily pregnant, but you started to miss being out front with customers. But you knew that once the baby arrived, things would be back to normal soon.

In the evenings, your tired Willy would rest his head on your big, basketball-sized belly and sing to our unborn baby. "Come with me, and you'll be in a woorrld of pure imagination." His voice was like that of an angel, soft and soothing. You could tell that your baby was relaxed by their father's voice, because he would lull you to sleep with his sweet lullabies after a long day in the office.

You started to set up the nursery together, and it was of course candy themed, much like your chocolate shoppe. Willy had lollipop raddles and candy cane-shaped teething rings made for the baby, among lots of other colorful accessories that resembled the sweet treats that were sold in the shoppe.

Above the baby's crib was a mobile made special by Willy, they were smaller versions of the pink cotton candy clouds that hung in the shoppe. Everything was absolutely adorable, and it made your heart swell with happiness.

After looking around the baby's room, you hugged your chocolatier, "Oh Willy, I'm so happy." you nuzzled against his shirt collar as he hugged you tightly. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Me either, my darling." he said, kissing you on the head, and then looked at you, "But I have to say that I'll miss your boobs being so big." He then eyed the large mounds on your chest.

You laughed, "You are a typical man, Willy Wonka. You can still use them as pillows after I have the baby."

"I know, but they're just so squishy right now-" he gently cupped your breasts through your shirt, "like marshmallows, or pudding."

"Okay, okay, you better stop before you get too excited, Willy." you giggled, kissing him.

Everything in your new home came together so beautifully, and your tried to enjoy it as much as possible, even though you were incredibly tired, and your body was swollen from head to toe. Your belly had grown much bigger than you ever would have expected.

Willy was wonderful during your whole pregnancy, but he was especially attentive to you in the last month. He would make you dinner after work, and no matter how tired he might have been, he never let on to his exhaustion. He would even massage your feet before bed. His sweetness and generosity never wavered.

.......

The day finally came: the day that you and Willy became parents. He was by your side throughout the entire birthing process, encouraging you and thanking you for giving him a child. He told you he loved you over and over, and wiped the sweat off of your forehead.

Your midwife was stunned after you had your baby, because she noticed another baby coming.

A/n: I hope you all are having a great Christmas season and have a safe and happy new year! The next chapter should be better than this one. lol

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey

[karmicgalaxies]

NSFW Alphabet — Morph

18+ Content MDNI!

Morph (Aka Kevin Sydney) X Reader

Disclaimers: This is just what I think for the sake of fun and whimsy! Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of a Threesome, Riding, Face-fucking, Face-sitting, Vibrators, Light Bondage, Body Worship, Blindfolds & Squirting. Poorly proofread, excuse any errors!

Reader referred to in a gender neutral sense, AFAB reader pictured when writing, however genitals aren’t specified!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Teasing and being a cheeky little shit aside, Morph is an absolute sweetheart. They already see sex as something highly intimate. A dance of not just passion and lust, but an act of trust with their partner’s body, and them with theirs. That being said, aftercare is a big deal to them.

No matter the intensity of the session, they’ll always make sure that you’re okay, always helping clean up the mess the two of you made, and give you some kisses paired with soft caress. And, who could forget the teasing about the sounds that escaped your pretty lips for them during the act? Even laid up together basking in the afterglow of your passions, you never know true peace. But, you’re more than okay with that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When It comes to their partner, Morph’s favorite body part would definitely have to be your hips. They’re just so grabable. They’re easy to wrap an arm or two around, grip onto while they grind themselves onto your ass from behind when you don’t expect it, and damn are they good handles for when you ride their cock. They just love the look of them and how easy it makes it to handle you.

Morph themself have some insecurities. They’ll transform into their more human looking form to try and appease you as they think that’d be what you want. However upon your further insistence of loving them and being attracted and aroused by them as they are in their true form, they learn to come to appreciate themselves a helluva lot more. Though they’d definitely say their face. It’s a perfect seat, nuff said.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Morph LOVES to watch you cum, seeing the mess that you make just turns them on tenfold, making their cock absolutely throb at the sight. Especially if you make a mess on them or in their mouth. They’ll lap that mess right up and come up to kiss you, just so you can taste yourself on their tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They constantly fantasize about a threesome between you and Logan. They wonder what it’d be like, though for that’d be wistful thinking for it to come to fruition. For now, it’s masturbation material to give that extra edge. ;)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Morph isn’t the most experienced person if you’d compare them to someone like Scott or Logan, but they’ve garnered enough experience to know what they’re doing, and they never fall short of leaving you properly pleasured.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that allows Morph a good look at your face, they simply adore. Being able to maintain eye contact, as well as having opportunities to kiss you absolutely senseless as their cock drives into you in one way or another is just absolute bliss. Not to mention the opportunity for teasing. Watching your face contort as you get fucked and seeing those pretty eyes roll back into your head give them absolute ammunition to tease you about it through and through. Some of the things they say are absolute filth, though it only betters the experience as they get to see your face react to their comments of your obscenely lewd sounds or their mention of how pathetic you sound.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As serious and passionate as sex can be at times, Morph is pretty humorous throughout, their personality does not hesitate one bit to shine through. Best believe they’ll still crack their wise muses, making smart comment after smart comment. all in all, the occasional laughs will be had. Makes every experience more memorable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Given the fact that Morph lacks eyebrows and hair atop their head, it’d be a safe, yet correct assumption that they have an overall lack of body hair. However in their human form, they have a little happy trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They are very passionate during sex. Wether it be soft love making, or rough fucking, the passion is almost overwhelming. Amongst the eye contact, they’re muttering out praises for you, telling you how good you feel, how much of a good job you’re doing. Dependent on what type of session is going on, they can be sweeter or a bit more vulgar depending.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Usually, Morph is pretty good at maintaining their composure, though it can only be helped so much when you’re gone for an extended period of time. If they’re real desperate, they might just turn into you as they masturbate. Just so that they can imagine they’re getting a feel of you even though you aren’t present.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. They live for your approval, being told their doing a good job, that they feel good, etc. They’re into face sitting and face fucking, as well as some light bondage and blindfold use. Morph enjoys occasionally having you to their mercy, makes things quite interesting and fun for you both! Also, body worship.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The real question is where wouldn’t they wanna fuck you? Though traditionally, Morph’s favorite places are in the bedroom and the showers. (wink wink nudge nudge) They offer an intimate setting that include just the two of you, though they would be lying to themselves if they haven’t pictured taking you in other places of the mansion.. They’ll definitely have to talk to you about that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talk and suggestive banter. Morph is chalk full of jokes and no doubt they make some suggestive comments here or there. When that teasing energy is reciprocated, it never fails to get them all worked up, hot and bothered with those words of scandalous promise falling from that pretty mouth that they’re totally not envisioning their cock stuffed inside of while you’re on your knees.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that plays with the bounds of consent or the possibility of bringing extreme pain or unsavory circumstance upon either you or them. Morph’s not a fan of anything that causes a threat to your security or comfort. They don’t get off on pain, wether it be feeling it or dealing it out. (Unless it’s a nice firm tap on your ass) If you’re gonna fuck, they want to make sure they have your consent, and to ensure you’re in good hands. No if’s and’s or but’s!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Morph’s an even mix of loving to give as well as receive, But oh what fun it is to see you absolutely crumble under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue. They’re pretty good at giving head, it doesn’t take a genius to know their way around. Though even then, Morph takes the extra mile to be a very attentive lover. Oral sex can be a delicate ordeal, so they find themselves paying attention to what makes you react in all the right ways. Finding out what are your sensitive spots, and knowing just how to work that mouth to get your back arching and toes curling in absolutely ecstasy. They’re a generous partner all throughout.

But oh how they love to receive as well. A warm mouth just wrapping itself around their cock, leaving them a mess of moans and whines, resisting the temptation to just buck their hips and just fuck the ever loving shit out of your face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

They can be a mix of both, depending on the occasion! If it’s a more sensual love making night, they’ll settle for slow and sensual. However if it’s more of a passionate fuck, then the fast and rough will be more prominent. Though their pace ultimately is determined by what you beg him for! Less, their being a tease and Morph’s thrusts are achingly slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! Despite loving the long drawn out sessions, They’ll never pass up on a quickie, taking you in a secluded corner or place. The risk factor of it all adding to the thrill and overall arousal. They’re not common, but when they do happen, they’re worth the while!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Morph isn’t too big on big risks, though despite quickies, they aren’t opposed to getting a bit…frisky. They can get pretty touchy feely, even being as bold to slide a hand down your pants if the occasion allows.

They’re also open to experimentation in the bedroom, so long it’s something the two of you agree can be pleasurable to you both, They’re more than willing to try out any positions, kinks, and ideas!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Their stamina is pretty average, it isn’t anything super humanly excessive, however they can go for quite a few rounds, longer with adequate breaks. In terms of how long they can last, they’ve got pretty good endurance of a few minutes, though that can decrease if Morph is being reduced to an absolute mess.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They definitely own one or two vibrators. Mostly with intent on using them on you, however they sure won’t be opposed to having them used on themself!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One of the biggest teases on the goddamn planet. Leaving lingering touches everywhere except for where you really need them, slowing down a pace if they feel like being cocky. Hell, Morph will even tease with their words, adding further insult to injury at a denial of the pleasures you so seek.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They are NOT quiet by any stretch of the woods. Chances are, Morph is whining and moaning right along with you. They are very vocal, and don’t shy away from that fact. They are a whiny little bitch, god forbid if you ride them, their soul is just snatched up at that point. If they feel good, you will know.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

They absolutely love when they make you squirt. (If applicable) It’s such an addicting sight and feel, they can’t get enough of it. They’re hard as a goddamn diamond at the sight of you soaking the sheets, the floor beneath you, through your intimates and your bottoms, etc. they just love to see and feel it. As well as occasionally have a taste of it. (This is more of a thing for AFAB readers but I really do think they’d have a thing for their partner squirting, I just feel it in my nuggets man-)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

They’re about average size more or less! 5.5 to 6 inches long, and a comfortable girth, perfect size. Their cock is long enough to please, and thick enough to stretch you and make you cum. No leaving you dissatisfied that’s for sure!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Morph’s sex drive isn’t anything crazy, something else that’s pretty average. Though it’s pretty easy to deliberately rile them up and get them extremely hot and bothered . Continue at your discretion ;)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Morph doesn’t let themself fall asleep until they know you’ve been cleaned up and cared for properly after sex. Though even then, they’ll stay up with you, embrace you as they listen to you speak about whatever your heart desires. Though if you want to sleep, they’re fine with that too, and will follow suit.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

You seem like an incredibly well read person, plus someone with a lot of insight into intimacy because of your work. So, in light of your romance book reviews, which are an absolute highlight on your patreon, do you have any insight into what is needed/suggested for a good romance novel?

g o d this is so fucking hard and also really fun to chew on. I want to preface this by saying this is ENTIRELY subjective and based completely on what I *PERSONALLY* find that I enjoy in a romance. this isn't, like, an objective guide on how to write a romance that doesn't suck. that doesn't exist because people like different things, and I'm speaking from one perspective.

also I should say that my preferred flavor of romance novel is solidly contemporary. I haven't read many historicals, certainly not enough to opine well on them, I don't do those mafia dark romances or whatever the fuck, and I've barely dabbled at all in any kind of fantasy romance, whether they're full high fantasy or witchy urban fantasy stories. (although I'm about to do one of the latter next month, you can vote for a book on my patreon rn!)

having gotten all of those caveats out of the way, here's some shit I like and dislike:

there are exceptions to this but broadly, I prefer a POV for everyone involved in the relationship. to me a romance where we're only seeing events from the POV of one member of the relationship automatically makes it seem like one person matters more in a dynamic where everyone should be of equal importance. also, god, if the plot's really going to hinge on not knowing what's going on in one partner's head suggests that miscommunication is going to be a pretty critical part of the plot, and I hate that shit. TALK TO EACH OTHER. I'LL KILL YOU.

on that note, there needs to be an actual compelling reason why the characters can't be together, okay? the #1 driving tension of every romance is "why the fuck can't they be together yet" and you BETTER have a good answer. whether it's interpersonal or external forces, if there's a very easy solution to what's keeping them apart then your characters look dumb and I'm bored. one of the most frustrating romances I've ever read involved two characters who were mutually attracted to each from the JUMP, who refused to act on it because they were coworkers (neither of them in any position of authority of the other, nothing unprofessional or inappropriate about it) and they were "only" living in the same state for A YEAR. A FULL YEAR !!! shut up. get a grip and kiss each other.

now, having said that: whatever your bullshit reason is for these two characters to be interacting with each other, you need to COMMIT to that shit so hard that I, the reader, will feel silly for even questioning the logic. the worst offender I've ever seen on this front is D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding, which pulls its protagonists together via a reality TV competition and then just... promptly loses any interest in really dealing with the actual realities of being filmed 24/7? it's insanely distracting how little the book engages with its central hook, and was a huge point deduction for me. whereas you have, like, The Bride Test, a book with a premise that skirts dangerously close to a little bit of human trafficking but embraces the whole premise so wholeheartedly that you completely forget about the potentially horrific elements in there. who cares that Esme was bribed here with the promise of a green card if she seduces a man she's never met? there's whimsy happening! we've moved on! it's literally fine and she's in no danger except the danger of a BROKEN HEART.

this one is going to seem SO obvious but like. I need them to be actually like each other. I'm not saying they can't be mutually bitchy while they grow to like each other or anything, they don't have to always be NICE to each other, but there are so many M/F romances where the dude is just flat out fucking MEAN and condescending to the girl until he decides he wants to fuck her. and sometimes even after that! stop it! after a certain point I don't want her to fuck him I want her to run him over a car!!!! there's suuuuch a line between "guy I butt heads and exchange banter with but could fuck if we just got to know each other" and "man who hates me and is for real fucking bullying me."

"kisses only," "doors closed," whatever term they use for a romance novel without any sex scenes on page, I don't like it. listen: I know that they're not everybody's cup of tea, and I FULLY recognize that a lot of romance novel sex scenes are unfathomably cringe. and yet, I need them. partly because they're funny, but also because if this book wants me to be invested in the developing relationship between two adults who are supposed to be WILDLY sexually attracted to each other, then I want to see the damn sex. no matter how many bad similes or unfortunate adjectives it entails. and if you're not going to show me the sex, don't you dare have the characters gushing about how great it is. I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much. (I'm looking at you, Sorry, Bro.)

related: there's this thing that I call "Horny Wolf Syndrome," which is derived from this tweet:

initially I used it to refer to when previously sweet-tempered male romance protags inexplicably started talking like horny wovles during sex scenes - "LET ME SEE YOUR PRETTY CUNT ON MY COCK" and the like - but now I more generally use it to refer to scenarios in which characters of any gender completely dispense with their established personality while they fuck in order to fulfill a more broadly appealing, one-size-fits-all sexual fantasy. I hate that shit; if your characters act like completely unrecognizable people during sex, you didn't write very strong characters. one of my favorite things about writing sex scenes is that it's so SO interesting to see how their the characters' personal quirks translate into a setting that's very different from most other contexts, and it's deeply disappointing when authors take the easy route in favor of some pornhub dialogue.

one of the things that actually won my most recent read, Raiders of the Lost Heart, a HUGE amount of points with me was how frank the female lead was about initiating sex for the first time. it was completely in character for her and felt really different than any other book I've read, and honestly? it was a breath of fresh air.

[inbarfink]

Part of Fionna’s frustrations with Mundanewold were subconscious longings for her old life of magical adventure, but a lot of her problems tied more into deeply-rooted issues of monotony and a feeling like she can't do anything to change her lot in life and like her actions don’t matter.

And it does seem like Fionna and Friends’ lives have been kinda Stuck in a Rut - especially when you compare the way their lives parallel and diverge from their Mainworld counterparts. Most of the differences are... rather than just different choices diverging into different arcs - it’s the same arc, but the Fionnaworld characters are just stuck behind.

Fionna is still reeling from the breakup with DJ Flame and only met Hunter at the very day our story starts. Marshall Lee has more Unresolved Issues with his mom compared to Marceline and her dad. He and Gumball haven’t even met yet. Not to mention the Mundaneworld-specific problems like Fionna being unable to hold a steady job or Gary eternally spinning his wheels about opening his own bakery. 

Fionna thought she wanted a world of magic, but while the added bits of strangeness and whimsy to Fionnaworld by the end of the show are certainly a cool fun bonus (and Cake is surely thankful to have the ability to freely think and speak her mind and stretch) - what Fionna and friends were really missing was a world where their actions matter, where things change, where they are real. 

And especially important for Fionna and Cake to admit it, because handling the fact their actions have consequences has been a huge part of both of their character arcs. For Cake it was all about getting used to the fact that her newfound human-like sapience means being measured against human-like morality. For Fionna it's about not comparing everything in her life to video games and thinking through her actions at least a little bit.

Consequences are the thing Fionna and Cake struggled with the most, but it was what they were missing all along.

Now this seems to be, like, an actual metaphysical thing. I mean, the show hasn’t gone super into detail of how Fionnaworld worked but it does seem like Prismo’s stories had an active role in moving the events of the World forwards, possibly using the same event-manipulating-Magic that make sure his Wishes have that Obligatory Ironic Twists?

And once Ice King turned back to Simon, Prismo lost all ability to observe or create stories for Fionnaworld. And what happens to characters of a story once the writer can’t access their external hard-drive anymore? They just sorta get stuck. Moving their own lives forwards without Prismo’s stories is just a lot harder.

And if there is some sort of force in control behind the scenes of Fionnaworld at the start of the series, it’s only Simon’s subconscious - a fact F&C alludes to numerous times 

And at the start of the show, how was Simon’s feeling about his own life?

In addition to Simon’s longing and memories for the pre-War world shaping the exact form of Fionna’s nonmagical world, perhaps his feelings of ennui and depression and helplessness have also subtly ‘infected’ this world?

It is perhaps not a coincidence that Marshall Lee and Gary Prince’s storyline only starts moving forwards after Simon embarks on the adventure and starts climbing out of his mental rock bottom. When things seem to move forwards for him as well.

As such, ‘Canonizing’ Fionnaworld solves more of Fionna’s problems much more than simply making it as magical as Ooo but keeping it as a tiny hidden bubble in someone's dome. It ensures the World’s inhabitants’ free will and agency and ability to enact change on the status quo with no need for Prismo’s stories or being dependent on the still-kinda-shaky mental health of Simon Petrikov. Thus giving them a world where everything matters and things can always change.

But also there's a psychological element for the Fionnaworld protagonists. You know, the reason why Fionna is stuck in her rut is because she’s too impulsive and careless. Gary is too perfectionist. Marshall never had someone who would stand up to him against his mom.

Fionna’s whole arc in the show is about learning to be more thoughtful and careful and considerate through her Multiverse Adventure. While Gary and Marshall Lee find release from the thing holding them back within Fionnaworld, with each other. 

‘Canonizing’ Fionnaworld is like... half actively altering their world into a ‘real’ one where change is possible, or at least easier - and half about an affirmation that their world was always real because change is about them outgrowing their personal issues (and also, y’know, about protecting their universe from the spiteful Beetle Cop).

And with how Fionna used to feel ‘trapped’ in the City, with nowhere to go and nothing to do - there is another change in Fionnaworld as a result of ‘canonization’ that feels very notable. 

I’m not entirely sure, but from Scarab's dialogue it seems likely that becoming a ‘real’ authorized universe just kinda manifested a whole planet and universe beyond the borders of the small existing Fionnaworld. Although I guess it's also possible that the process of repairing the existing city they found a way to expand it gradually - maybe it doesn’t matter as much as the fact that either way, Fionna’s horizons have been literally expanded. 

So you know, if she ever gets that thirst for adventure again... she actually has a Whole New World to travel and explore, it might not have (a lot of) magic but... she already heard Simon's stories of his adventures in a similar low-Magic world. It's a totally viable outlet for her.

What Fionna really needed to find the joy in her life is to be Real - to know that her actions have consequences for ill and for good. Because sometimes an adventure looks like saving a Prince of candy from an evil Ice Witch, or going on a multiverse journey to uncover a cursed Magic Crown… but it can also look like backpacking through Europe or campaigning against your evil landlady.

[carlyraejepsans]

Ok im trying to make a character and really struggling to make them fit the vibe of undertale, do you have any thoughts on undertale's character design philosophy? or know anyone who does? tips? idk you know alot about undertale, im kinda at the design phase of "throw shit at the wall and see what sticks"

undertale character philosophy rule number 1) get silly with it. rule number 2) be fully, whole-pussedly earnest. do not half ass do NOT undermine your genuinity with useless irony it is the POISON of whimsy. actually no rule number 1) think of every possible wordplay you could make outta them. visual gags included, those are important. undertale is a comedy before being anything else. you know what these aren't in order of importance anymore, who care.

anyway, UT characters are all somehow stuck in their patterns and cycles. either through mistakes, through circumstances outside of their control, past trauma, regret, etc, but they're stuck in that. what breaks them out of that cycle is a crucial aspect of their personality and set of beliefs. keep that in mind while you brainstorm their backstory.

give them speaking quirks. you're gonna feel a little silly at first, but there's not one main character in the game whose identity you can't discern by their dialogue lines alone. no soundbit, no portrait, no context. the way they say it by itself is distinctive enough to make them recognizable. let that guide your writing process.

....ok just realized you probably meant character design as in visual character design. ok, new try: puns and double meanings and things that are not what they seemed at first sight. there's a lot of design repetition with alterations in undertale's NPCs; froggit and final froggit, the dogs in the guard, snowdrake and knight knight. see what aspects are kept and what is altered. remember: while the main characters skew towards more humanoid designs (bipedal, upright, 4 limbs, recognizable face), they all have extremely different body types, often simplifiable in a single geometric shape for the stockier ones (toriel, sans, box mtt being rectangular, toby saying how he wanted to make alphys look like a triangle), while the ones with more complex silhouettes get really fucking weird with it (papyrus is self explanatory, undyne's tall and gangly noodly shape). get creative and get diverse. consider buying the art book, even! i feel like that might be a good choice. have fun, hope this helped!! (very likely didn't lol)

[directdogman]

Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Lark and Hunting

Sometimes, hunting is a necessary evil.

It’s not fun, to be so close and connected to nature, and have to take a life from it to further your own.

But there’s a cycle.

And that cycle must not be broken.

Perrine does all the hunting.

Cole downright refuses to hunt animals. They’ll eat them, but they won’t kill anything.

Clémentine, bless their heart, tried. They really did.

But when they stared down the arrow at the tender face of a doe, the way she almost seemed to resign to her fate when she saw them standing there, they just couldn’t bring themself to shoot.

Perrine told them not to personify the animals. They know not of human emotion- not really. Thinking about their family won’t help you survive.

But they still couldn’t do it.

They broke down into tears, apologizing to both the unslain deer and to Perrine.

And they haven’t tried again since.

Kingsley simply isn’t allowed to touch a weapon.

So, it’s Perrine’s job.

Perrine hunts with a bow and arrow. Because guns aren’t whimsy.

The kids (read as: Perrine) own two bows- one that Perrine bought, and one that Perrine made herself.

There will be days where she’s gone from sunrise to sunset, just crouched somewhere in the woods, waiting.

Sometimes she’ll climb up into a tree and perch there. Other days she’ll sit in a bush for hours.

Hunting is tedious and long and boring, but it needs to be done if she wants everyone to be fed.

When you’re out there, you don’t really have anything but your thoughts. And it’s best to put any demons to rest before you go out.

Perrine has a lot of time to think.

Too much, in fact.

She wasn’t raised to engage in bloodsports. It’s unbecoming of her.

She’s a kid. She shouldn’t have to be doing this.

And yet, she is.

She gets used to it, over time.

Or so she tells herself.

But, man, did she cry the first time she ever killed her first animal.

It was a rabbit. A tiny little thing that wouldn’t even be enough to feed the whole group.

And she wept over it.

Even now, she feels bad for every animal she hunts. Despite what she said to Clémentine about not humanizing the animals. She’s a hypocrite who can’t take her own advice.

After every kill, she’ll kneel by the body and just give it a moment of silence, paying her respects.

Despite this, though, there’s something calming about hunting—when her thoughts aren’t as loud as a roar, of course.

She feels so close to nature when she’s out in the wilderness. It’s just her and the trees and the animals.

So it isn’t always so bad. And she doesn’t always hate it.

BUT ALSO.

It can be frustrating.

Waiting out there for hours, and then coming back empty-handed, either because she just didn’t find anything or because she messed up her chances somehow.

Because the slightest slip up can ruin everything for you.

Slightly shifting her weight and causing the grass beneath her to just barely crunch, sneezing, breathing out just a bit too loudly, and suddenly the animal she’s been stalking all day is gone.

Perrine has exploded into full screeches of rage and chucked her bow over this.

Kingsley, to the others, hearing Perrine’s howls of fury echo all the way to their house: it sounds like it’s going well!

Perrine mostly hunts foxes, birds, and small game such as rabbits and squirrels. Deer and wild boars are a little harder for her to take down.

Plus, deer are quite big, and she is a preteen. So it’s always difficult to get the deer back to the cottage. Because they’re hard to carry, and she doesn’t want to drag them because that’ll ruin their hide. She usually ends up carrying them on her back, though.

She once carried a boar over her shoulders because it’s the easiest way to transport animals, and she got fleas from it. She was so pissed.

She doesn’t hunt moose.

Of course, being out in the woods is dangerous for a kid her age.

She once encountered a bear in the woods. It was a black bear. She managed to scare it off by making herself as big as possible while shouting, but it was still a terrifying moment. She didn’t risk pissing it off by shooting at it.

She also once got attacked by a wild boar. In her opinion, those things are more dangerous than a bear. Meaner than one, too. That little bastard attacked her for no reason!

She got charged at by a buck in rut before.

Another time, she shot a deer, and it bolted straight at her. It plowed over her, and when she reached back to feel where she had been struck by its antlers, her hands came back bright red. She thought for sure she had been impaled and was bleeding out, and she started saying her final prayers, but luckily, it was just the blood from the deer. She did have MASSIVE bruising all over her back, though.

Perrine beefs with other hunters.

She hates people who hunt for sport. In her head, if they aren’t going to at least eat the animal, it’s senseless killing.

Her most prized game was this gorgeous ten-point buck. His rack literally had her awestruck- she had never seen antlers that big and beautiful before. (He was a pain in the ass to haul back to the cottage, but it was worth it, both for that skull and for the meat he gave to them).

She tries not to kill doe, just in case they have a baby somewhere.

Alongside hunting, Perrine also handles the grisly task of skinning and gutting.

And she sometimes resents the others for not swallowing their nausea and helping her, giving her a goddamn break from all this work, but there’s no point in complaining.

Gutting is…well, gruesome, to say the least.

It’s not only physically taxing, but emotionally taxing, too.

Something about digging your young, shaking hands into the hot viscera of something that was once living, something that you stole the life from, something that you killed, takes a tole on your mental wellbeing after a while.

But it needs to be done.

A necessary evil.

There’s a general rule to not bother Perrine when she’s gutting unless absolutely necessary.

Perrine strongly believes in using every part of an animal.

The meat is obviously eaten. If she doesn’t immediately cook it, she’ll preserve it by curing it for another day.

The guts are also eaten, especially during the winter when money is tight and food is even tighter, what with their garden being pretty much dead. The others are less than thrilled about having to eat liver and heart and brains, especially Kingsley, who will complain, and Perrine has simply stopped telling them that they’re eating guts. Where’s the harm in lying?

And then the guts that aren’t eaten get chucked into a bin and are used to attract flies, which then make maggots, which are then used for feed for their quails (because additional hc: the kids raise quail because i think it’s cute).

Sinew is used to make cordage, but the process is aggravating.

Fat is used for a variety of things, such as butter substitutes, candles, soap, and salve. Clémentine and Cole both enjoy making candles and soap together!

Bones are also used in a variety of ways!Sometimes Perrine will use them as decorations, carving them to make chimes or other little trinkets. Or they’ll be crafted into weapons. Or they’ll be used for food, though Perrine is the only one who actually likes the taste of bone marrow. Or, if she doesn’t want to do any of that, she’ll grind them down to make fertilizer. And, of course, she keeps the skulls for herself.

Antlers are used for weapons. Or Perrine just keeps them for decoration.

Fur is, of course, used for clothing and decoration. Fleshing can be tedious, but it’s worth it in the end. Perrine will keep her favorite hides for herself, just to display in her room. Sometimes she’ll sell the hides to make some extra money.

Once, some hides Perrine left out rotted because they got too damp outside, and she had a full mental breakdown over it. It had been a bad week to begin with, and that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Overall, it’s a grisly job. Every part of it. Even the good.

But it’s necessary.

[forever-rogue]

hey honey! I hope you're having a good week 🫶 if your request are open, I have this little idea that I want to share with you (if not, you can ignore it and sorry to bother you). this could be with either Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson because I love how you write for them. so maybe you have a friends with benefit type of relationship that lately has been more romantic (less sex, and more let's take care about each other) and, obviously, you end up falling in love because you've always had a crush and this just made it worse. and because life is short, you decide to confess your feelings but in the moment you're gonna do it, he has something to say too. so you start saying how you are in love but he interrumpes you in that moment and he's like "hey! that's great because I'm seeing this girl and I think I like her so we should end with this" and you end heartbroken not only because it's not reciprocated it but because it also felt like he was leading you when in reality he was seeing another girl already. I know, it's really angsty this but I love angst and if you decide to give it a happy ending too, I will love it 🥺💖

thank you love, hope you have a nice weekend ❤

AN | I am a sucker for a love confession so here we are. It has a happy ending 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why are you looking at me like that?” your cheeks warmed up as you tried to hide your face in his pillow.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in turn, reaching over and gently brushing a few rogue bits of hair out of your face, “so beautiful.”

“Stevie,” you always felt like he could see right down into your soul with those honey caramel eyes, “stop.”

“Why?” there was a soft whimsy to his question that caused you to playfully roll your eyes, “come on, angel. Tell me.”

“You’re being too…sweet,” you tried to shrug him off as he put his hand on your cheek, “one might almost think you…”

“That I what?” you swallowed thickly at his innocent question. You didn’t know if he really was that naive or if he was playing dumb, “hmm?”

“That you have feelings for me.”

“I do,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you’re my best friend. I love you.”

Not how I love you. You wanted to say, but you swallowed it back down. Instead, you rolled on your back and pulled the sheet over your bare chest. A sigh escaped your lips despite your best efforts. 

“I know,” was all you managed to get out without giving too much of yourself away. 

“Angel-”

“I’m tired,” you whispered into the dark, “let’s just go to sleep.”

He was quiet for a few moments before you felt him shuffle behind you. You felt him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his warm body. Despite your best efforts you melded into him.

Soon, you promised yourself, soon you would tell Steve exactly how you felt. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could lie and say you weren't quite sure when your situationship with Steve started but that would be a lie. You remembered the precise moment you went from best friends to best friends with benefits. 

It was at some party for a friend of a friend and the two of you had gone for some fun…and free drinks. You'd both gotten a little tipsy and it had been a while since either of you had gotten any action and so…you'd kissed and then had sex.

When coming to your senses the next day, neither of you truly regretted it. It was - if you were being completely honest - the best sex of your life. And because of that, the two of you didn't see a reason not to hook up again. 

So you did; happily and regularly. Despite your best efforts, you kept holding onto the hope something would change. Something would prompt him to want to make this official. You thought that maybe he felt the same way about you. You knew he loved you, that was never a secret. But you wanted to know if he loved you as more than a best friend.

You could have asked. You should have asked but you never worked yourself up to it. Instead you let things keep going as they were, hoping that something would happen. Maybe the universe would divine something into fruition.

But it became increasingly hard to hold back your feelings. You should have just ended things or came out and told him the entire truth but it was impossible. You couldn't quit Steve…you didn't want to. 

Steve, however, was smarter than most people ever assume. He could see that something was different - off. Whenever he'd try to bring up the subject and get to the root of what was going on, you switched the subject. 

"Here ya go," Steve held out your ice cream cone, a smile on his face, “your favorites.”

“Thanks,” you took the cone from him with a small, forced smile. His own pretty smile faltered for a moment as you ate some of your ice cream, “it’s really good.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly and offered him a shrug in response. You knew that he meant well and this was all because he cared but it didn’t make it any easier, “you’ve been so down lately. Talk to me, angel. Please.”

“Stevie,” you hesitated for a moment; you hated seeing the sad look on his face. You wanted him to be happy - it was what he deserved. You reached for his hand and put yours on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “nothing is wrong, love. I’m just…I haven’t been feeling great. That’s all.”

“Okay,” he flipped your hand over so he was holding yours. His touch was so gentle and reverent. You knew he could tell you were lying, but the thing about him was that he never pushed. He knew that you trusted him and would eventually go to him, “you know that you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you promised him, “you’re the one person I trust more than anything. You’re the most important person in my life, Steve.”

“Funny,” he teased softly  that almost brought a little smile to your face, “you’re the same to me. You’re the best thing in the world.”

“Steve.”

“I mean it,” he reached over and brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “I love you.”

And that was the most wonderful and hardest thing to hear, because you knew he meant it.

Just not in that way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Baby, baby, baby,” you sighed softly as Steve trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck. He was softly nipping at the skin, leaving behind a lavender haze of soft bruises, “you’re so soft. So fuckin’ soft.”

“Steve,” you wanted him to stop but your body and heart were wanting him to keep going. You ran a hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He was slowly pushing up your dress, deft fingers dancing along your thighs. He paused for a moment before kissing along your collarbones and the tops of your breasts. His gentle touch caused you to inhale softly.

“I love when you make all those pretty sounds,” he nuzzled his face into your neck, overwhelming all of your senses, “you are everything to me.”

You tensed up for a moment before putting your hands on his shoulders and shaking your head. Steve stopped immediately and pulled back, looking at you in concern, “stop, please. I…I’m sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” his eyes were wide with concern as he pulled himself off you completely and sat down next to you. You felt tears welling up but tried to blink them back, “angel…”

“I just…I don’t want to do this,” you pointed between your bodies, “not today. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted sweetly, “you never have to apologize for anything like that. It’s not an issue. Do you want to just watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, I think I should go home,” you pulled your dress down and shuffled off his bed. He nodded in response before handing you your sweater. You took it, hugging it to your chest as you inhaled the smell of him from it, “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Call me when you get home, okay?” he asked quietly as you nodded in response, “and be careful.”

“Always,” you promised before turning to leave his bedroom. You paused in the hallway for a moment, hesitating on whether to just leave or go back. After a few beats you left his apartment to go home. You missed him already. 

Steve had to battle between coming after you or letting you go. He knew something was wrong and he just wanted to fix it. He would do anything for you…he hoped you knew that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You separated yourself from Steve for a few days, trying to figure yourself out. It was hard but if you were ever going to move past the current situation something had to change.

The only real solution, you had finally come to terms with, was telling him how you really felt. It was going to be harder but it was going to be even harder if you never said anything at all.

The next time Steve picked you up for your normal Friday night hangout, you were ready. As ready as you ever would be. 

"Hey angel," Steve wrapped you up in a hug without hesitation and you allowed yourself to melt into his arms, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Stevie," you whispered as you took a moment to breathe him in. You pulled back and found him looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile. 

"I have something to tell you-"

The two of you spoke at the same time, always so in sync. You couldn't help but laugh lightly. You gave his arm a light squeeze and motioned for him to go first.

"So," he looked excited as your heart beat wildly in your chest. Was this finally it? Were you going to have your magic movie moment finally? He looked at his feet for a moment, stifling his smile, "do you remember Amber? The receptionist at my old job?"

"Yeah…" your heart was definitely going to burst out of your chest.

"She called me up the other day and asked if I wanted to go out with her," he looked almost shy as all you could do was stare at him, "so I figured why not? We're going out tomorrow."

"Oh," you felt your heart break as you blinked back your tears, "oh."

"Yeah," he nodded, trying to read your expression, "I was thinking too that maybe we should stop sleeping together. Just if we want to start dating people it might be best if we stop. But - what were you going to say?"

"Me?" you swallowed thickly, brain buzzing and heart in your stomach. You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to figure out how to possibly tell him you were in love with him when he clearly wasn't interested in you that way. You were just a best friend and a warm body, "umm…nothing. Nothing important at all."

"Are you sure? It looked like it was something big-"

"No," you shook your head and took a step back from him, "I forgot but umm, I actually have a thing so I can't hang out tonight. I'm so sorry, I just remembered."

"What? But we always-"

"I'm sorry, Stevie," you turned around before he could say anything else. He was almost positive that you had some tears in your eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After Steve broke your heart - unintentionally - you avoided him. Flat out avoided him and didn’t even make an attempt  to hide that little fact. He called, and came by, and even stopped by your work, but never managed to get a hold of you. It was starting to kill him slowly. He needed to know what was wrong, he wanted to fix it and make it all better. You were the best and biggest part of his life and you were just gone. He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. 

Neither of you could live without the other. That was obvious to everyone. 

It was a few weeks later that Steve finally managed to track you down. He’d been waiting outside of your office, watching in anticipation for you to come out. It probably wasn’t the best idea but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be without you any more.

As soon as he saw you coming down the steps, he jumped out of his car and ran over you, calling your name at the top of his lungs, a desperate and hurried sound. You stopped dead in tracks and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Steve?”

“Hey - hi,” he stopped in front of you, a nervous expression on his face. 

“W-what are you doing here?” butterflies were already fluttering around in your tummy like crazy. 

“You,” he stated simply, “I had to see you. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Oh,” that alone was enough to make your heart thaw just a little bit, “Stevie-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you quickly, “I know I should let you talk but I don’t want another excuse for why I have seen you. All I could think about these last couple of weeks was you. And I think…I think I know what happened.”

“Oh?” your face warmed as you squealed at him, “I….Steve.”

“Are you in love with me?” he didn’t waste any time getting right to the point and it was the most wonderful and scariest moment of your life, “because I’m in love with you.”

You could have given him so many different answers, played this off in various ways but you were done. Done with running from him and ignoring what was right in front of you. Swallowing thickly, you nodded at him, “yes. I’m in love with you.”

He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He smiled at you, fully and sweetly, which you couldn’t help but return. Suddenly it felt like things were really and truly falling into place. 

“May I?” he asked softly and you knew exactly what he meant. You answered his question by leaning in and kissing him softly. If there was ever a magic movie moment, this was it. You’d kissed him many times by now, but it was never like this before. 

When you pulled back, he sighed softly and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve been wanting to say that for so long now.”

“Me too,” you confessed softly, “I just got scared every time. And I was sure you’d never feel the same.”

“Really?” he laughed softly, “here I was thinking I was being so obvious all this time. I should have tried harder, huh?”

“I thought you were being obvious but I talked myself out of it,” you admitted as you touched his face, “I never thought you’d love me like I’ve always loved you.”

“I always have,” he promised, “and I always will.”

“Do you really promise?” you felt a few tears run down your cheeks and Steve didn’t hesitate to wipe them away.

“I swear it on my life,” he peppered your face in kisses, “forever. I love you.”

“I love you,” a wistful little sigh escaped your lips as you melted into him, “forever.”

[doe-prince]

I love Golden Shrike! I've had my own comic idea for about a decade now, but I'm wondering, for you, how long did it take you to be confident enough with your art to start your comics? had you attempted panels and backgrounds earlier and didn't put them out because you weren't happy with them yet? I'm almost done with my characters and writing but I'm worried I'm not good enough to actually start doing panels

(these are just my views and experiences! there's as many approaches as there's artists)

I was BAD when I started comics, but then I again I was a kid who didn't care if my bunny-cat-digimon comics weren't good enough, it was just fun to do. Which is what it should still be, fun and a fulfillment to you. I think the happiest an artisit can be is when they can draw like they have no audience.

My comics stopped in my teenhood when I actually wanted to make something good. I made so much groundwork but VERY rarely got to the actual page production because I thought everything should be perfect, but we all know there's no such thing. When I noticed all my attempts were doomed, I stopped making them for like ten years until I was zapped with Fuck It We Ball-mentality. And it's the best thing that has happened to me. Childhood whimsy. Make your own toys.

Did I make test pages for Golden Shrike before starting production? Well, the first page of the comic is a test page. And the second page. And the whole first chapter. I just never stopped. Not smart but it's what works for me. Starting these 'test pages' has kickstarted two bigger comics for me, Golden Shrike and Jet and Harley.

Sure I made couple of style tests for GS even though I had a clear visual vision from the start, but Jet and Harley I just started to draw without any real practice pieces, just based on couple of CSP brushes I wanted to use. This isn't very smart as you'll likely find out later that MAN, this style takes too much effort, but if you're unlike me and don't care so much for consistency, you can always simplify it on the fly. And even I've had to change it: I stopped shading after chapter 5, briefly used 3D assets in upcoming pages, now I'm gonna shrink the font a little. They're teeny tiny things for readers, but huge for me.

There's many comic authors who like to plan every little detail before getting to work, but it doesn't work for me so I can't say much about it. I have a skeleton to follow, but I fully flesh out each chapter one by one when I reach them with pages, because I like to revisit my old visions with fresh brains. When you actually get to work, you might realize some scenes aren't needed, or they'd be better changed. Don't be scared to crack some ribs off your story skeleton. Being too loyal to your old vision can often hinder you.

Starting production is the biggest monster in comic making, but after the first step you'll mow over it leaving it in your dust and create a baby you can be so proud of. I wish you, and everyone else on the cusp of their projects GOOD LUCK, HAVE FUN, LOVE YOUR WORK.