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#just so i can get them done and feel good about myself

kinardscoffee · 16 hours

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I think Tim Minear just confirmed tommyBuck being a LTR with the video that he just posted…

What is your opinion?

Honestly?

The video is just another piece of evidence showing that bucktommy is here for the long run.

To me, the very first confirmation that bucktommy was going to be a LTR was Tim's interview, where he said that he wanted Buck off the hamster wheel and that he didn't want another LI that was siloed off from the 118.

I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself here, but that's fucking important and I don't really understand why some people can't understand that.

I mean, sure... "they" like to argue that, obviously, Eddie wouldn't be siloed off, but what people don't seem to understand is that if Eddie and Buck were to become a couple... one of them WOULD be siloed off.

(I hate the word "siloed.")

There are a few reasons behind this.

1. Look at Bathena and Madney. The two couples that are made up of main characters. One of them, usually the non-member of the 118, gets pushed back. I mean, yes, they still have large storylines, but they usually separate them from their LI. Or their LI is put in harms way because of it. Do we really want less time with one or even both of our mains? Especially Buck and Eddie, the dynamic duo?

2. What happens when they experience relationship issues? Imagine you get into an argument with your significant other. Something nice about having a job is you get to get away, blow off some steam, vent to your work bestie... but like... they work together... ON 24 HOUR SHIFTS. That is a recipe for disaster, not only for them, but for the entire team.

3. Based on #2, they probably wouldn't be allowed to work the same shifts. So, we would have to have someone replace both Buck and Eddie on their new respective shifts. Not to mention... they would have Christopher. And, as a couple one would need to be there for him and for when he has school stuff or just personal things in general.

None of these things are ideal. And seeing as people think we already see too much of Bobby and Athena? It would be too much work to juggle the Buddie dynamic.

Sorry... got really off track, Anon!

Back to the video.

Tim is going to post, write, and say what he wants to. He has no obligation to feed either side of the fandom just to keep them happy and, as we've seen, he doesn't. He cut the karaoke song and then showed the script to get people off his ass and to stop sending him DEATH THREATS. Like, jfc. If he wanted that side to shut up, all he had to do is post some Buddie pictures and move on... but that's not what he's done.

He's gone back and said he picked the wrong song. He's posted the articles specifically about Buck's bi awakening and his relationship with Tommy. And then he posted that video.

To me, that video says, "This is the direction I'm going. This person is correct. I like what this video says." So. Yes. It is yet another confirmation of bucktommy Long Term Romcom goodness.

And can I just add... if Tim really did pull this relationship out of his ass last minute even though we see all these parallels and invisible string theory... wouldn't you want to take credit for that and explore it?

I know I fucking would.

#oh dear lord i rambled #anyway the video speaks volumes #even tho others say otherwise #911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #911 fandom #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #anon 🩵#bree goes off script

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olderthannetfic · 1 day

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Have been having such a time lately trying to commit to this fic im writing because it's. Incredibly cathartic and is the start of me finally starting to explore the concepts im ashamed of being fascinated by.

Mpreg jokes have become so ubiquitous that it feels like people just roll their eyes or look at me like im a weirdo for trying to take the idea seriously? not just as a physical reality for the m getting pregged in question, but also as an Emotional reality for the character. Pregnancy and pregnant characters are still treated So fucking weirdly in General, and. i understand people having a trigger related to it, thats not what im talking about ofc, but at the same time its like. Its Pregnancy. Its how Life happens. And men irl Can and DO get pregnant. Even men that dont "look like" they would enjoy it. It's always "dont pigeon hole effeminate men as bottoms/omegas/subs!!" Until someone comes out and actually wants to see and read about The Most Stereotypical Guy to ever Dude experiencing 1.) what it means to be a vessel for life, and 2.) How that changes the way people will treat him.

Bc! as soon as i bring it up, no matter how tactfully and Chaste i try to be about it, the atmosphere in the conversation always Shifts, and there's this feeling that everyone just wants me to shut up and stop being a pervert because the mere premise makes them uncomfortable. Like im sorry thinking about men in fiction undergoing women's lived reality gives me a way to articulated an understanding of what it means to be capable of having a child (all the good, bad, and ugly parts of it) that is still not otherwise allowed in Polite Discussion irl, even in the closest of relationships??

Ill keep writing it for sure but like. The shame is rearing its head and im trying to fight it my getting Mad at the pervasive (and probably just perceived) puritanical judgements dished out my the rest of the world, instead.

Why is the idea of pregnancy never taken seriously. Why is it always shoved in a corner to be ignored till it Happens and its Forced into relevance. And then why is it treated as pointless or worse just straight up Bad if it isn't "done right"/arousingly/humorously while being relevant, either on the character's part Or the author's?

It's getting better more and more with time but im just. Wracking my brain about it today. I cant stop thinking about it, its all i want to talk about, but even In my nicest and most opem circles i can feel people pulling away, and all i can think is its because im doing it to the Wrong character (major macho man villian with a Lot of daddydom themed xreaders...) or something. and its so hard not to let myself get discouraged 👽

A lot of my fandom circles act like that, and it's because all pregnancy is somewhere between a massive squick and massively boring to them.

I find pregnancy more interesting now that I've experienced it, but I was definitely like "Why would anyone ever talk to me about this?" before, and it wasn't about picking the wrong character.

Some things are just unpopular with some audiences. Try not to get too discouraged.

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permanentswaps · 20 hours

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The Cursed Hunk, Pt. 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2 by @manswaps

Seth’s POV

Wearing the stranger's body, Jared led us out of the apartment and to a gay club. The city’s neon lights glinted off the wet pavement, and the bass from the club’s music pulsed through the ground, matching the rhythm of my nervous heartbeat.

He explained, "This is the best place in town to find us the hottest guys possible to swap with and fool around with."

“I still don’t see why you can’t just let us swap back to our original bodies first,” I protested, uncomfortable in my dad’s much larger, hairier frame. The weight of his muscles and the scratchiness of his chest hair felt foreign and awkward now that the horniness had worn off.

My dad, now in my body, nodded in agreement. “I don’t see what you have to complain about,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation. “But yeah, Jared, this is kind of ridiculous. We should swap back.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” Jared replied, smirking to himself. I think he was getting a little turned on by the fact that he had done this to us.

As we entered the club, the atmosphere hit me like a wave: loud music, flashing lights, and a sea of bodies moving together. Jared immediately darted off to the bathroom, saying his body was so horny that he just had to jerk one out.

“I’ll stay with him,” my dad said, following him to the restroom. It was a good idea; we couldn’t afford to lose him in here.

Left alone, I was incredibly nervous. Even though I was sure I was into guys, I had never been to a place like this. I decided I needed a drink to steady my nerves.

Walking up to the bar, I signaled to the bartender. Before I could order, he greeted me warmly, “Hey Marcus! It’s been a few weeks, so glad to see you! What can I get for you?”

“Oh,” I said, a bit surprised. “Good to see you too.” I faked a smile. “Could I grab two vodka sodas?”

As I waited for the drinks I thought to myself, “A few guys in college? Yeah, right.” I guess my dad had a bit more of a slutty wild side than I realized.

After opening a tab with my dad’s card, I wandered deeper into the club, which was filled to the brim with every type of guy imaginable.

Searching around for where my dad and Jared went, I felt a bit at a loss. I couldn’t see them anywhere. Holding both drinks gingerly in my hands, I turned carefully, only to accidentally bump my shoulder against someone. I guess I wasn’t used to how big this body is.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I began to say, only to be greeted by the most beautiful face I’d ever seen.

The man standing before me was stunning, with chiseled features, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that could melt anyone’s heart. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No worries, big guy,” he said warmly, his voice a smooth blend of charm and confidence. “With muscles like that, it must happen all the time,” he chuckled, reaching out to feel my bicep.

My heart skipped a beat, “Not as often as you might think,” I replied, trying to flirt back but sounding a bit awkward.

The stranger's touch on my bicep sent a shiver through me, both exciting and unnerving in equal measure. Wearing my dad's body was still surreal, and the sensation of someone admiring muscles that technically weren't mine was strange. I managed to smile, hoping my nerves didn't show too much.

"I'm Diego," he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm, and his touch lingered a little longer than necessary, sending another jolt through me.

"Seth," I replied automatically, then quickly corrected myself. "I mean, Marcus." I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, realizing the slip might confuse him. "Just a bit scattered tonight, you know how it is."

Diego raised an eyebrow, his smile turning a bit more curious. "Rough night?"

"Something like that," I laughed nervously.

Diego’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Well, Marcus, if you need a distraction from your rough night, I think I can help with that."

I felt a tug of nervous excitement in my chest.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, and said, "How about we find a quieter spot to talk? It's a bit loud in here."

I nodded, grateful for the escape from the overwhelming noise and crowd. "Lead the way."

Diego took my hand, and a thrill shot through me as he guided me through the throng of dancing bodies. We weaved through the club, finally emerging into a quieter lounge area with plush seating and dim lighting. The bass still pulsed in the background, but it was muted here, making it easier to hear each other.

Diego gestured to an empty couch in a corner.

I sat down, and he settled in beside me, his proximity making my heart race even more. "So, Marcus," he began, his eyes locking onto mine. "What brings you to the club tonight?"

"Uh, just needed to blow off some steam," I replied, trying to keep my story straight. "Work's been crazy, you know?"

He nodded sympathetically. "I get that. I'm in finance. What do you do?"

"Construction," I said, recalling my dad's profession. "Lots of hard work, but it's rewarding."

Diego's eyes widened in appreciation. "I can tell. Those muscles don't build themselves," he said, giving my bicep another playful squeeze. His touch was electrifying, and I found myself leaning into it slightly.

"Yeah, it's tough," I admitted, trying to sound casual. "But I like the challenge."

Diego's smile widened, and I could see a spark of genuine interest in his eyes. "I bet you do," he said, his voice low and flirtatious. "There's something about a man who isn't afraid of hard work."

I chuckled, feeling more at ease with his playful banter. "Well, what about you? Finance must be pretty intense too."

"It can be," he admitted, leaning back slightly but maintaining eye contact. "But I like to think I balance it out with fun. Nights like this help."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I can see that."

As the conversation flowed, I found myself becoming more comfortable in my dad's body. The initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a growing confidence fueled by Diego's attention. I wasn't used to being this physically imposing, but the way he looked at me made it easier to embrace.

"You're quite something, Marcus," he said, his voice a seductive whisper. "I've got a feeling tonight is going to be unforgettable."

I smiled, the nerves now a distant memory, replaced by anticipation. "I think you might be right," I replied, leaning in closer.

---

Marcus POV

Waiting outside the bathroom for Jared, I was struggling to fend off a bunch of creepy old guys. Damn, this twink body is attracting a lot of attention—and definitely not all of it wanted. Their leers and inappropriate comments were making me increasingly uncomfortable. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between them and me, but it only seemed to encourage more attention.

One particularly persistent guy came up to me, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl. "Hey there, cutie," he said, his breath reeking of alcohol. "What's a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?"

I forced a tight smile, trying to be polite but firm. "I'm waiting for someone," I said, hoping that would be enough to make him go away.

But he wasn't deterred. He moved closer, his hand brushing against my arm. "Come on, don't be like that. Let's have some fun."

Panic started to creep in as I realized I couldn't shake him off. Desperate for an escape, I glanced toward the bathroom. Jared had to be in there somewhere. I just needed to find him.

"Excuse me," I said sharply, stepping away from the persistent guy and heading toward the bathroom door. I pushed it open, the smell of cologne and sweat hitting me as I entered. "Jared! Where the hell are you, dude?" I called out, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.

There was no response. The stalls were empty, and the urinals were unoccupied. I checked each one quickly, my anxiety rising with every empty space I found.

"Jared!" I shouted again, more urgently this time. He was nowhere to be found.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge tightly as I tried to steady my breathing. The club’s bass thumped through the walls, a constant reminder of the chaos just outside the door. Where could he have gone? He said he was just going to jerk off—how long could that take?

Feeling the panic start to overwhelm me, I splashed some cold water on my face and looked at my reflection. Seeing my son's face staring back at me was still a shock, but I had to focus. I needed to find Jared and get out of here before things got any worse.

I then bump into some guy who can only be maybe three years older than my current body—damn, he’s really cute. He had dark, wavy hair and a charming smile that made my heart race a little faster. For a moment, I forgot about my predicament and just enjoyed talking to him.

"Hey there," he said, flashing a smile. "You look a bit lost."

"Yeah, you could say that," I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. "Just trying to find my friend."

We chatted for a few minutes, his easygoing manner putting me at ease. I almost forgot about the chaos around me until I spotted Jared out of the corner of my eye. Relief washed over me.

"Sorry, I have to go," I said to the cute guy, giving him an apologetic smile before darting off toward Jared.

I ran up to him, my frustration boiling over. "Damn, where the hell have you been? Enough is enough, I need to get my body back now. I wanna swap!"

Jared looked back at me, a bit surprised, and then smirked. "Damn cutie, I wanna swap with you too."

Before I could say anything else, I felt the familiar, disorienting sensation of being sucked back into that horny body. It was like being pulled through a vortex, my senses swirling until I landed back in my own form. I blinked, trying to steady myself, and took a look at Seth’s body, which was now feeling itself up.

"Damn dude, this body is cute as hell," Jared—now in Seth’s body—said with a grin. "I’m definitely going to be able to pull some hotties in it."

"Jared, what the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, my anger flaring.

"I don’t know who the hell Jared is," he replied, his grin widening. "But thanks for the sexy body, dude." With that, he turned and ran off into the club.

"Fuck," I thought to myself, panic setting in. "What did I just do?"

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tsunami-of-tears · 10 hours

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Someplace better

Azriel x Reader

A/N: This is dark. There are no happy endings. Please read the warnings.

Wordcount: <1K

Warnings: angst doesn’t even cut it; emotionally abusive family dynamic; suicide; it does not end well, you’ve been warned.

My mother is a horrible wench.

We just had yet another fight that ended in screaming and tears and slammed doors.

I thought our relationship was getting better. I was trying to open up about the struggles I’ve been having, only to have them all thrown back in my face.

“Before you point the finger at everyone else, maybe you need to consider that you’re the problem,” she sneers.

I’d been trying to tell her how overwhelmed I felt, that I felt stuck and couldn’t see a way out. I can feel myself starting to crack under the pressure, pieces of me splintering as I try to be everything for everyone.

No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough. There’s always something I’m not doing, something not done right.

‘You’re a failure and a burden,’ that little voice says, harmonising with my mother’s insults.

“I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself,” she says dismissively.

So much for motherly love…

————

Later that evening, I’m heading to the River House for a family dinner. These events have become less frequent with everyone’s busy schedules, and I’m looking forward to seeing my friends.

Rhysand greets me at the door, pulling me into a hug. “Y/N, it’s been too long,” he smiles down at me warmly. “Everyone else is here already, come in.”

“It’s good to see you, I’ve missed everyone,” I give Rhys a tight smile in return.

Time appears to stop as we walk down the hallway. The awkwardness drags on for what feels like forever. My thoughts race with things I could say, but my tongue cannot form the words. Rhys notices my silence, furrowing his brows at me. I plaster a huge smile on my face, attempting to conceal my inner turmoil. I can’t tell if Rhys picks up on my forgery.

We enter the living room which is alive with chatter between my friends.

Mor, Feyre and Cassian are laughing together, likely about something Cassian said.

Amren and Nesta are engaged in a heated discussion.

And then Azriel… He’s with Elain, talking softly together about gods knows what. My heart starts to crack at the sight.

I really don’t want to get between Nesta and Amren, and I can’t face Azriel and Elain together, so I sit next to Cassian as Rhys perches on the arm of the chair beside Feyre. He leans down to kiss her softly on the top of her head and I look away quickly, the crack growing until I feel like my heart is split in two.

Cassian gives me a quick peck on the cheek as I sit before returning to his conversation with Feyre and Mor.

I struggle to engage with anyone, feeling more alone than ever while surrounded by my chosen family.

————

The rest of the night is much of the same.

Every single word is a monumental effort.

I’m hyper-aware of every single person around the table. Every single smile and hidden touch. I feel as if I’m watching from behind a window. I’m on the outside. Alone.

‘They’ll be fine without you,’ that little voice whispers in my ear. ‘Look how happy they are. They don’t need you. All your efforts are wasted. You are a waste.’

After dinner I bid everyone goodnight, heading up to my room.

I miss the concerned glances between my friends, who noticed I’ve been extra quiet tonight.

I miss the shadows that follow behind me.

I miss the way Azriel zones out from what Elain is saying as he watches me leave.

————

I can’t remember the last time I stayed in this room but all my things remain untouched. Clothing, journals, even some beauty products - all where I left them.

I pick up one of my old journals and flip through the pages. I mostly write down the bad stuff. It usually helps get the feelings out, but right now, it’s only adding to the storm that’s brewing inside me.

I carefully set down the books in a stack on my nightstand, picking up a scrap of parchment. As I always do, I write.

I’m sorry to do this here, tonight, but I cannot go on any longer. I truly believe this is for the best. The world was not made for people like me. I’m far too soft. I love you all. Y/N

I set the note down on the bed and rummage through my various medicines. I’ve always struggled to sleep, so I should have some extra tonics in here somewhere…

I find four bottles of sleeping tonic in one of my drawers, plus the one in my pocket.

I arrange them on the nightstand in a straight line.

I pick up the first bottle, uncorking it and raising it in the air.

A toast, to finding someplace better.

I bring the glass rim to my lips, chugging the clear liquid.

One down. Just a few more.

I make short work of the remaining bottles, though I feel a bit queasy from the sheer volume.

As I set down the last bottle, a wisp of darkness curls around my wrist and snakes between the empty bottles.

“You’re too late,” I tell it.

The shadow vanishes and my eyes start to droop.

I lay down on the bed, my entire body feeling heavy.

As I feel myself losing the battle for consciousness, a mass of dark shadows appears next to the bed.

Azriel.

He is frantic as he reaches towards me.

So close. He was so close.

I never get to feel those hands again as the world fades to black and I give myself over to the endless sleep.

A/N: I’m not gonna lie and say I’m okay when clearly I’m not, but I’m not unsafe tonight.

Mental Health Resources*: If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number. Australia: Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Mental Health Hotline: 1800 011 511 Lifeline: 13 11 14 USA: Crisis Line (call or text): 988 UK: Lifeline: 0808 808 8000 *If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know

#azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar angst

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reccyls · 13 hours

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Drink, Get Drunk, and Drown (Victor)

My translation of Victor's story from the drunk collection event:

Victor: And that means... Victor: It's time for the "Appreciate Kate for always being so hardworking!" meeting!

A rose emerged from the magician's wand that Victor held in one hand.

Victor: As thanks for always being so diligent in your role as Fairytale Keeper, I've prepared some delicious wine. Victor: And it's not much, but I've also made some snacks to enjoy with the wine.

Kate: Wow! Everything looks amazing!

Victor's handmade snacks were piled on the table, every last one of them looking delectable.

Victor: It's a reward specifically for you, so make sure to keep this a secret from everyone else.

Kate: Hehe... Sure, got it.

Victor: And with that out of the way, cheers!

As I partook in the wine, Victor brought over some crackers with various toppings.

Victor: Try some of these, if you'd like.

Kate: ! They're good!

Victor: I'm happy you like them.

(Victor really can do anything.)

His work as the queen's aide must be demanding beyond anything I could imagine, way beyond what any normal person could handle. And he supports everyone in Crown, and on top of that he can cook and sew...

(Now that I think about it, this is probably what people mean when they talk about "the perfect person".)

His form as he drank wine, with his hair tucked behind an ear, seemed like something out of a portrait.

Victor: Ah, that's right. How was yesterday's work?

Kate: Oh, that was--

As Victor listened patiently, I told him all sorts of stories, but...

(...Huh?)

Victor's cheeks were flushed ever so slightly red.

Victor: What's the matter?

(I was so caught up in conversation that I didn't notice, but...)

I lifted the bottle of wine, and discovered its contents were empty.

Kate: It's all gone?

Victor: Although I prepared it for you to drink... your conversation was so enthralling that I didn't notice how much I was drinking.

Kate: I don't mind, but are you okay?

Victor: Hmm?

Smoothly, his fingertips stroked across the back of my hand. My hand swayed, causing the wine glass to shake. In the blink of an eye, Victor was now sitting right next to me.

Victor: Your hands are small.

(He'd never approach me like this normally, is it because he's drunk?)

I was approaching tipsiness myself. And the happiness I felt that Victor was getting close to me like this added to the fuzziness of my thoughts.

Kate: Hehe, that tickles.

His fingers tickled as they continued playing with the back of my hand. When I lifted my gaze to meet his, I didn't want to look away again. The faint blush across his handsome face, and the mole right on his lips, everything added to his attractiveness. My tongue was tied because of how seductive he looked. And the way his fingers tapped on my thighs was another provocation.

Victor: ...May I rest my head here?

(He really is drunk after all, I think...?)

Awkwardly, I nodded. Beaming, Victor lay down with his head on my thighs, gazing up at me.

Victor: We've done this before, haven't we?

Kate: ...We have.

(But, this is completely different.)

Victor: Ever since then, I've always thought about maybe doing it again, from time to time.

He closed his eyes as I gently combed my fingers through his hair, his face relaxing.

Kate: ...Just like you've always watched over me as I worked hard, I've been watching you too. I've always been watching. Kate: I used to be so afraid of this place. And now it's somewhere I can feel at peace, all because of you, Victor. Kate: So, you don't have to work hard in front of me. I want you to be your true self.

Looking like he had something he wanted to say, Victor sat up. He gently stroked my cheek. In his eyes, I saw a wave of sorrow-- And before I could react, he had wrapped his arms around me.

Kate: Victor...?

As I sat there frozen, unable to concentrate on anything except the way my heart pounded in my ears, Victor lay down on the couch, still holding me in his arms.

Kate: Um, Vic-

Victor: ...Just a little while. Victor: Let me stay like this, just for a little while longer.

There was loneliness in the way his arms tightened around me. When I realized that, I let myself settle into his arms.

(Someday, if Victor asked me...) (No. I want to be someone he can depend on.)

With that thought in mind, I surrendered to the sleepiness that had crept up on me.

...

When I next opened my eyes, I was in my bed.

(When did I go back?)

That was when I realized that I was wrapped up in a coat.

(This is Victor's.)

The scent of alcohol mixed with the lingering scent of a quiet late night.

(It's like I'm being hugged...)

Recalling what had happened just before I fell asleep, I pulled the coat tigher around myself.

(I should go give this back to him.)

Trying to flee from the heat that would not dissipate, I stood.

...

Roger: Is that Victor's coat?

As I was on my way to Victor's office, Roger called out to me.

Kate: Yes. We were drinking together yesterday, but I fell asleep. I guess he let me use it as a blanket.

Roger: Ah, yeah. He never gets drunk, you know?

Kate: What?

The words stopped me in my tracks.

Roger: Victor's probably got the highest alcohol tolerance among everyone in Crown. Roger: He can down bottle after bottle without getting affected at all. Makes you wonder if he's even human, sometimes.

Victor: Oh my, if it isn't Roger and Kate.

Victor's sudden call from behind me made me jump in surprise.

Victor: You two looked like you were having fun. What were you talking about?

Roger: It's a secret just between the little lady and me.

Roger gave me a smile full of insinuation as he walked off. I was left alone with Victor, clutching his jacket and looking up at him.

Victor: ...Kate?

Childlike innocence was written on his expression, with no trace of the Victor that I saw yesterday.

Kate: I, um... Uh...

(Is this an act? Or...)

In the face of my uncertainty, Victor only smiled gently.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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booksndpoetry · 1 day

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Chapter One: Meet-Cute

a/n: This was not the fic I was hoping to publish and I don't know what this is (it's a mess). I might make more if you encourage me.

wc: 2.4k words

pairing: art mogul! Hyunjin X writer! Reader

tags: friends to ??, reconciliation, use of cheesy epithets, me trying to write slow burn.

genre: a pinch of angst, fluff

triggers/warnings: Whatever this is, it is not good. Read at your own risk.

Ten.

No, not Ten from NCT.

Just ten more minutes until you could excuse yourself for the evening and it wouldn’t seem suspicious.

You take in deep breaths and try not to make eye contact with anyone lest they try to make conversation with you. You were deliberately dressed discreetly for the same purpose too. Baggy jeans, vulcanized sneakers, a white shirt with a logo you’ve never bothered to investigate, and a pin on your braided hair. You were sure you looked like you didn’t belong, and you felt it too.

Being a bestselling author has its perks, your editor had told you, her voice tinged with something like awe when your book sales had skyrocketed. You thought it meant that more people would leave you alone to write. Though, to your dismay, it meant events held at ridiculously expensive hotels, with overpriced champagne and people at every corner trying to please you so they got a favour out of you.

It should be pretty obvious in your behaviour that you hate these events. You weren’t even a good actor. Although, knowing your agent, she probably set you up to meet your next best sponsor or another journalist who would try to get an interview with you.

The more you thought, the more you tensed up. Checking your watch for the umpteenth time that evening, you let out a ragged breath. Eight more minutes until your freedom.

Or maybe not, you think when you see Frank, the editor-in-chief for [famous magazine name] making his way towards you. Frank was known to be relentless with his requests and you were cemented about the fact with your experience in his studio.

“Hello Miss, how’ve you been doing since I last saw you?”

You hold your hands behind your back, not fooled by his polite façade.

“Good. How about you Mr. Frank?”

“Good, good.” He nods his head, more to himself than you. “Great weather today, innit?”

The sky was pretty magnificent today. The event was being held on one of the top floors of a famous hotel, and the large glass windows were set perfectly to watch the sky. The sky was a cerulean blue, with streaks of pink and orange, like the trails were smeared by the tiny fingers of a child, bold and [synonym for pretty] in their forms.

“Truly.”

He chuckles again, “Always a person of a few words, Miss ‘Name’. Although, can I hear them?” There it was, the unspoken request. He would once again wear you down trying to convince you to spare some time for an interview and a magazine shoot, and you would have to refuse again. You hated refusing, as much as you had to do it, and you didn’t like people who took no for an answer.

You simply take a step back, as if a physical distance would help you say the words easier.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Frank. I have an impending project and I don’t want to distract myself. Maybe next time.” You offer him a weak smile, trying not to let your grimace show. You were bad at this.

He simply waves you off, expression more sombre than it had been seconds ago, and your heart drops. You had disappointed him. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Unable to stand being there any longer, you rush past the faceless bodies, feeling the need to go away, to run away somewhere.

You go down the elevator and text your agent.

<<Attendance: done.

You silence the device and pocket it, finally reaching the lobby of the hotel. You swear not to stay in the damn hotel for any second longer, but the universe gives you another reason.

Luckily, it’s in the form of someone familiar. Unluckily, it belonged to your best friend you hadn’t seen in seven years.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You trip in the middle of the lobby.

Hyunjin hadn’t known what to expect that evening. He had been offered an invitation, just like any other month. He was unsure about whether he had to attend the event. After all, he had a business to run. But after one of his clients had finished the meeting early, some deal about an upcoming art exhibition place, he was having second thoughts. But some part of him had insisted on his attendance, as he’d heard that one of his favourite artists would be coming, and that’s how he found himself at the entrance of the skyscraper.

What he absolutely did not expect was to see you, standing right in front of him. Until you tripped, and he couldn’t help his laughter.

You quickly get up and pretend to inspect your shoes for any indication of dust. Damn five-star hotels and their extremely slippery granite floors. For what purpose were they made so smooth and shiny? For one to see their reflection when they faceplanted there?

Hyunjin’s still laughing lightly when he comes near you.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned. You hear his voice, and it is still the same smooth tone, albeit deeper. You missed that voice. But the way he speaks, polite yet guarded, you think that maybe he doesn’t recognize you.

“You haven’t changed one bit. Still tripping down flat surfaces, Miss Writer?”

And he proves your assumption wrong. You frown at how easily he can annoy you with just the sight of his stupid face, handsome or not.

Your lips straighten themselves into a thin line, and he remembers why he’d teased you countless times when you were younger. You were adorable when you attempted to look angry, like a tiger cub trying to sulk. He smiles, eyes taking you in again.

“You haven’t changed either. You laughed at me when I fell!”

That wasn’t true. He had changed, in more ways than one. Time had carved him beautifully, with elegant lines and soft beauty, evident on his face. And he was no longer Hyun, your best friend. He was Hwang Hyunjin, the rising art mogul, and founder of the famous ‘Hwang Designers.’ The man sought after by rich men and women alike.

The laugh he’d been subduing comes out in full force once again at the memory, and he clutches his jacket. For a moment, he’s your Hyunjin again.

You hit him on the shoulder, and he stops laughing.

“I haven’t seen you for seven years and this is how you greet me?”

He sobers up quickly. He knew he had to apologize, sooner or later. He decides to do it now.

“Ice cream?” he asks.

“Butter-scotch and Strawberry?”

“Yes. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Deal.”

When the both of you walk out the set of doors, you don’t look back at the gigantic building and to your surprise, neither does he.

The both of you stumble into his car, a spacious Audi, and he puts the car in reverse. It reminds you of the countless things you’ve missed. Like the first time he learnt how to drive. It saddens you a little, and he notices.

“The nearest dessert place is pretty far. You sure about this?” He wanted to make sure he wasn’t intruding on your schedule.

“I’m sure, Hyun. Now, let’s go.” You punctuate your statement with impatient slaps on the centre console. He chuckles, starting the car.

Once on the road, he thinks back on your words earlier. You had called him Hyun, after such a long time. He’d been called a lot of things, but he thought this epithet was something he wanted to keep being called. It’s a physical entity of your friendship, showing how it is still intact. And he feels like he’s sixteen again, sitting with you on your rooftop, as your shoulders brush. Like nothing has changed.

He drives past trucks and numerous cars, taking turns until the roads are empty.

You roll the windows down, and let the wind flow between your tresses.

The cool air feels heavenly against your burning skin. You close your eyes just as a strong gust of wind blows. You lean against the rails of the windows. It felt like freedom, like being alive at last.

Hyunjin watches you intently, eyes flickering between you and the road. It had been so long since he’d seen you, and he physically could not keep his eyes off you. He still remembers the mole above your left eye, the numerous dimples on your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge. He’s dreamt about it every day you’ve been apart, to be honest, but now was not the time.

Driving through empty highways at night was not how he envisioned his reunion with you, but there you were.

“Do you want to go somewhere in particular?” he asks you, voice soft, in that same tone he used to talk to you.

“Just keep driving, please” you swallow thickly. You didn’t want to return to your reality, not yet.

He nods once, then “Shall I take you somewhere? You’ll like it, I promise. Unless you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, then “Okay. I trust that you won’t get rid of me.”

He rolls his eyes, “Come on, ----- you should know me better than that. I would’ve done it already if I wanted to.”

You huff, “And here I thought you wouldn’t even dream of it.”

He just smirks and shifts the gear, speeding up.

“Slow down, I don’t want to die yet.”

He side-eyes you, “I’m not getting you killed, darling” He slows down anyway.

You feel yourself flushing because of that word. This was new. The Hyunjin you knew always called you silly names, but not this. This was different, mature. The tone of his voice was suddenly deeper.

No, no.

This was Hyunjin you were talking about.

He was your friend years ago, and you have yet to determine what he is to you. You will not be having such thoughts. Shaking your head, you lean back in your seat, when he stops the car. He’s brought you to the spot near the bridge, overlooking the river reflecting the city lights. You get out of the car and he leans against the hood with you, simply watching the scene before you.

It’s beautiful, the vast cityscape, stretching along the length of the river. The flashing lights dance over the waterbody like stars twinkling over the Milky Way. It feels so grandiose. But, you know that despite it looking so enigmatic, it is not so glamorous in reality. And the sudden weight of the expectations of others weighs down on you, all at once.

The distress must have shown on your face, because he stands in front of you, holding your face like he used to do when you were upset.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s wiping your face, and you realize you’ve been crying.

“Nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I thought I could, until you went away to another corner of the world, leaving me behind.”

He flinches a little at the words. It’s true, he did leave you behind. It’s time he owns up to it.

“I’m sorry, ----. We were going to be far apart, and you and I were still young. I’m thankful for our friendship, but I thought that we could leave it behind. To revisit it one day, if we wanted to. I didn’t want to burden you with a friendship so pressing with its demands just to keep it alive. I thought I gave you a choice. Nonetheless, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I wanted to, but each year held me back when you’d gone years without speaking to me. But I believed I was still your friend,” he bends down and holds your hand. “I thought we’d survive despite not a single word being exchanged between us. And I know I’m right. But please be upset, I don’t like you being upset with me.”

You hold his hand, fingers curling around his wrist.

“I’m not mad at you, I understand. Maybe not then, but I do now.”

You give him a genuine smile, and his heart soars.

“So now, you’re back to being my best friend, no takebacks. Or I’ll knock you out.”

“Woah, ease up there. It’s been barely five seconds since we’ve made up and you’re already threatening me?”

“Like I said, I’ll knock you out.”

He immediately moves away from you, hands positioned in a poor imitation of some jiujitsu pose you know he has no idea about.

And you laugh, a childish sound coming from your mouth. He sees you, head thrown back and he feels his lips curling upwards.

You stay there for what feels like hours, catching up. He teases you and you threaten him, and he makes you laugh. You forget the ice cream. It feels just like old times.

When it gets darker, Hyunjin drops you off at your home after saving your number, with promises to meet you tomorrow. You wave him off, beaming.

Later, you stumble into bed with a heavy heart, sad that the evening had ended so soon. You know you won’t get any sleep, and yet you try. When you finally feel like you’re dozing off, your phone vibrates with a notification. Cursing whoever decided to message you without your permission (how dare they, when you were just about to fall asleep?) you unlock it to see a message from an unknown number.

>>>See you tomorrow, Miss Writer.

You smile and type something to send him too.

<<<See you tomorrow, Mr. Hwang.

And he’s the one who’s kicking his feet when he receives your message.

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration to characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

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fagm0m · 2 days

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Mom who posts on a forum about how she feels guilty for taking advantage of her son being on antidepressants because he gets oh so sleepy during the day.

vrmom1970: Hello fellow moms! I'm a frequent viewer of this particular forum space, but today I make my first post! I did a bad thing today. But it felt so...good. So exhilarating! LOL! My transgender son (22) has been depressed for quite some time after his girlfriend broke up with him, and so he was prescribed some antidepressants to help him deal with it. However, the antidepressants make him terribly tired! Yesterday, he was asleep on the couch, looking so peaceful and cute. I went to put the blanket that was hanging off of him back over him, when I noticed he had on no panties! Along with that, his tits were spilling out of the only article of clothing he was wearing, a tank top. I've seen my son nude before, he practically is a nudist the way he's allergic to wearing clothing unless guests are over. Anyway, I don't know what came over me. I went to go and tuck his breasts back into shirt, they were very soft, areolas big and round (just like mine!) nipples hard and plump like gumdrops...something disgusting and nasty took over me, because without a second thought, I put his breast in my mouth! I started sucking and groping them, like a madwoman! I never knew I could be so perverted and taboo, but even as I write this my girldick is throbbing just thinking about it! Ugh! I think reading you ladies posts has turned me into a fully fledged pervert! Anyway, I think I was sucking too hard, because he started moaning! I quickly pulled away and he turned over, covering himself with the blanket. I let out a sigh of relief before I headed upstairs and instantly had to relieve myself! I came as hard as the first time I stumbled upon this forum two years ago, cum shooting all over my own face as I laid in bed thinking about how I sucked my son's breasts, and about what else I would've done had he not started stirring! My gosh, I think I'm gonna have to go pleasure myself again, so this ends this forum post! I will keep you guys updated on if I decide to do something like this again! xoxo :)

comments:

badmamabutchbitch: next time try and slide a finger in for me ;)

wildestdesiree: wow that was so hot! how big are his tits? i bet his t-dick is huge!

leatherfagmom: I just came reading this. I'd love to see you shoot ropes all over his face. >:)

[deleted user]: HORNY Local Moms are looking to fuck in your area! Sign up and get laid today! www.localmoms.com

auntrena: one of my favorite commenters finally makes a post! so exciting! First of all, WOW. I can't believe your first encounter already had you with a mouthful of your son's tits! Secondly, we need part two! I'm soaking wet right now as I sit in bed on my laptop! Imagining you were sucking my nipples was so hot! Next time try and see if you can suck his dick or even get him to suck yours! Eagerly awaiting your next post! xoxoxo!

[deleted user]: you have a dick? wtf

vrmom1970 reply: Kill yourself!

#!nc3st #cnc k!nk #cnc somno #dyke nsft #t4t nsft #black nsft #nblw nsft #t4t !nc3st #forumpervmomsseries

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 3 days

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A/N: Here’s a Carl Grimes imagine I had already finished, but didn’t post. Enjoyyyyy!

Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader

——————❤️—————

“Carl?” I stepped into the doorway of his now, hollowed out room due to The Saviors, coming over to Alexandria, early might we add, and ransacked the place.

He didn’t hear me or chose not to hear me, as he threw darts at the board, but the majority of it was hitting the wall. So, I knocked on the already open door and just let myself in. “Carl?”

“What?” He turned and spat in my direction. When I didn’t respond, he went to the wall where his darts landed and forcefully pulled them out.

“I’m sorry, I know you aren’t mad at me for shit, I have no control over, Carl.” I have no tolerance for anyone who throws an attitude my way for some shit, I did not do.

He sighed, before backing up and continued to throat the darts. “Carl!” He stopped and stood staring at the wall. “I’m going with your Dad and Aaron to find stuff for Negan, and I want you to come.”

“He sent you up here, didn’t he?” Carl said referring to his dad.

“No, I came here on my own free will, I don’t want you here by yourself.” He scoffs and turns to look at me.

“You think, I’m not able to protect myself?”

“You know that is not what I said, nor meant. Don’t twist my words.” I replied, pointing an accusing finger his way. “Are you coming or not?”

“There is no way in hell, I’m going. That asshole can get his own shit.” He turns, throwing his darts at the target again, this time with much more aggression.

“Carl, please, just..”

“Just what, (Y/N)? Go and steal stuff from anywhere and anyone just to appease him? Hell. No. I don’t even know why you’re going!” He said storming his way over to me.

“I don’t need to explain my reasoning to you.”

“Like hell you don’t. Why are you kissing up to that prick?”

“I don’t want to lose anymore people, okay? Especially not you. I care about you, too damn much.” I exclaimed, and Carl was dead silent.

And decided to just keep going cause why not, right?

“After seeing what he did to Abraham? To Glenn? What he could’ve had your Dad do to you? I just couldn’t, alright? I can’t.” I explained.

Carl was about to put a comforting hand on my shoulder and probably pull me into a hug, but I just backed away from him. “(Y/N)..”

“So, excuse me for kissing up to him. But I’ll be damned, if I let anyone die at the hands of that jackass. If this is the only way, to keep everyone away from, whatever that man will do to any of us, then you best believe,” I stand closer to him, making sure he hears this part. “I will do what it takes to do so.” I walk backwards then out of the room and down the stairs, joining Rick and the others.

“Is he coming down?” Rick asked, and I shrug. “I don’t know and hell if I care.” I said, putting my bag into the truck. I did, in fact care about Carl, but our hands are literally tied behind our backs. We’ve been safe for as long as we can, I don’t like this nor do I like Negan either, but we can’t do shit right now. For now we gotta play his game, even if we’re playing with cheaters.

“(Y/N)!” Carl, calls from behind me, and I scoff and turn around. “What do you want, Carl-?” I asked, before feeling his lips on mine, and pair of hands on my face. I stood there, dumbfounded before my self-consciousness mentally kicked myself in the behind, telling me to ‘kiss him back before you can’t.’

And I did. I kissed him back. He puts his hands on my waist, and I around his neck playing with the hair, as the nape of his neck. But at soon as I recuperated it, it was done the next second. He rested his forehead onto my own looking at me, with his one good eye.

“I don’t want to lose you either, I care about you too, you idiot.”

“Careful, with what you say sheriff.” I said, as we share a laugh, that was short lived due to him going back to being serious. “But please, please be safe and careful out there, you hear me?”

“I heard you.” He smiles weakly, letting me go and walked backwards to the houses porch and I climb into the truck.

#wattpad #x reader #fluff #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black!writer #all inclusive #angst #twd x reader #carl grimes x black reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes

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bettsfic · 2 days

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Hi Betts,

I recently listened to an interview with an author that said “when they decided to get really serious about writing and their dreams they made a ten year plan.” So me being the planner that I am, said maybe I should do it too, especially since this writer is pretty successful. Have I made a decent enough plan? No, because being real about your dreams and committing is scary af.

But I have developed this thinking that each story I have to work on has to be “publishable” and if I can’t immediately envision its success I need to push it away. For some people this is fine. For me, I’m pushing aside every idea and am constantly writing for an invisible audience. Which has its pros and cons.

I want to become efficient so that I can be a good author. One who meets deadlines and puts out work they are proud of. But I’m wondering if it’s even possible to try to work to be an author and still create work that is fun and true to you? If a decision isn’t meaningful I won’t include it in my outline. It feels like the only time writing can be fun is when I was young and had no clue about market and rules and just assumed my dreams would come true.

you know, what i keep finding over and over again is that i was right about a great many things before i had any idea what i was doing. i just didn't know why i was right, i had no context or evidence for my rightness. granted, i was arrogant, but arrogance isn't wrong; it's just uninformed. when you inform arrogance, it becomes confidence. you become informed by getting a lot of feedback on your work and giving feedback on work; having your work accepted once or twice and accepting someone else's work; having your work rejected hundreds of times and being the one to reject. maybe you've done all those things already, in which case you're firmly on your path and there's not much you have to do besides keep going.

i definitely relate to what you're saying, though. i would be lying if i said i wasn't just days ago in a phase of berating myself for my failures and wishing i could work harder and more efficiently. i've cultivated some confidence about my work, but there are some ways in which i'm too arrogant and others in which i'm too humble. i have a long way to go still in informing myself about my work and the process of making it.

you'll be in positions where you have to make creative concessions for the sake of publishing, but don't make them before you get anything on the page. listen to your own ideals and make those ideals happen in your work. a year ago, i finished a novel that was my favorite thing i'd ever made, and i was so proud of it, but i knew it wasn't publishable in the state it was in. even though i'd worked a year on it, it was still an early draft and bore the marks of an early draft, but i couldn't see that because i'd never taken any project further than that one. i'd never felt closer to a project or more intensely toward it. and when i was done, i went through six months grieving it, in a sense, because i knew i'd have to rewrite it. i had to kill the thing that it was in order for it to become what it needed to be. i came to accept that, and the next six months sat on the frustration of not knowing what direction to take it, but having the wisdom to know i couldn't rush it or force it.

and then the fix came to me all at once. the fix involves getting rid of many things that were once dear to me. not even darlings, but entire themes i felt were meaningful, that were the very things i want to share and explore in my work. i don't feel so bad about giving those things up now. what i take out will be put into something else eventually, and what i keep will stand out more starkly. the new parts i write will fit better and serve the story itself, even if it's no longer the story i originally intended to tell.

when you're drafting, your work is in a private conversation with yourself; it's about you even if it isn't. but it can't stay about you. eventually it has to stand on its own. and you might think, well why can't i just write something that stands on its own to begin with? but if you do that, writing is just work, it's business, and it may be more efficient but it's also less meaningful. there's no such thing as efficient creativity. it takes as long as it takes, and if you force yourself on a ten year timeline you might as well focus that energy on something more lucrative and within your control. there's so much about writing that's just chance and discovery and failure and faith.

so i think you should go back to assuming your dreams will come true and not thinking too much about anything except the work itself until you get to the point where you have to. and it will hurt. it may hurt more than anything hurt you've ever put yourself through. but trust you'll get to where you're going, even if it takes longer than you intended.

#writing advice #publishing #concession #process

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icewindandboringhorror · 18 days

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boy in silly sitting positions compilation

#cats #I especially like the last one where he just has one single paw poking out of that box for some reason lol #I still have costumes to post and like a billion other things.... grr... constantly failing at staying active on social media aughh #I think because currently my Main Focus is on trying to get my game done and stuff.. which basically just means sitting and writing all day #so there's not much to post about. Though I know the Good At Social Media thing to do would be to post about the #writing and share progress and talk about the game and characters or whatever to try to build interest or something but that is SOOO weird #to me.. I could maybe get it if it was like a tiny tiny discord groupchat of playtesters with like 5 people in #it.. But something about talking openly about things before they happen is weird to me?? Like presumptuous feeling or something #''oooo guess whats gonna happen LATER!!!'' like.. how do you know.. what if it doesnt. what if you dont finish it. what if its not the way #you think it's going to be. what if something changes. etc. Like I literally avoid movie trailers and game trailers for the same reason ghj #Even if it's not ME doing it it just feels... weird.. Maybe it has to do with my OCD and how I just don't like talking about ''future''#things in Certain Terms. Like if I was going to say ''Oh yeah sure. come over to my house in a few months''. I would have to follow it up #with like ''HOPEFULLY you can come over to my house in a few months'' or 'They'll come over in a few months MOST LIKELY''. Because just #stating that something will happen matter of factly takes for granted like.. what if somehting horrible happens and I DONT have a house #in a few months? or what if something bad happens to me. or to the person coming over? I can't ever DEFINITELY say with 100% certainty #that one could ACTUALLY come to my house in a few months. anything could change. So I have to allot for that in my phrasing. hbjjkn #There are a lot of situations where you're expected to just Assume Things but for some reason that bothers me. My brain literally does not #even Assume the most basic things.. like how do *I* know that just because it's someones birthday that they want to be wished a happy #birthday? what if they dont? everyone is different and has different preferences. I should check with them first. or wait until they public #ly announce that theyre accepting birthday wishes. I have to allot for all 5034859069 rare possibilities at any given time and never take #anything for certain. etc. ghjbjhbh.... ANYWAY.. I have been feeling a bit sick lately as usual.. but still slowly making progress on some #things. Moslty I need to edit costume photos. make sculptures. and work on the game. Going back reading some of the old writing from like #2018 and suprisingly I don't have to change that much of it? In fact I like it mostly. so that's good. I would be very interested if I were #playing the game myself. Though that doesnt mean much since my tastes are so niche lol..#Still really want to clear some of my million tumblr drafts as well... alas and aughh and ooughh and so on and so forth. Between all of my #evil appointments other such things...why cant I have one billion dollar to retire into relaxed hermit artist life of no stressors.. bleas

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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shoutout to those nights where the brain says We Literally Cant Do Anything Even Though We Really Want To <3

#brain: we want to do something!#okay! awesome! lets-#brain: NO DO!! only want #cant scribble. cant write. cant read #and so i sit here alternating between staring at several different screens & also the wall #idk if its brain fog or what #it feels like im in waiting mode....#what am i waiting for!!! i would like to know!!!#absolutely unprompted #stg im gonna end up rewatching good omens while grinding for pier fish on acnh #angry at myself for not doing Literally Anything Else!!#i cant even think about my blorbos bc nothing coherent is going on upstairs #its just vague feelings and images and AUGGGH #i hate nights like this!! can i unsubscribe!!! can i opt out!!!#there are several Important Things i need to get done!! why cant i do them!!!#i wish i had some sort of large fruit i could split open and devour To Cope w this smhhhhh #at least then id be doin something...#for once i have the energy but i cant funnel it into anything. sigh

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sysig · 16 days

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DAX is just so expressive ♥ (Patreon)

#My art #SCII #Helix #DAX #Lol #Have I mentioned I love him lately #As if I ever stop talking about how much I love any of them lol #Okay but genuinely these were really nice as warmups they were really easy to just knock out one by one #He's very expressive as Dexter! *handwaves about human neurochemistry and expressions* lol #I had to make his Neutral look extra dead inside to make up for the rest haha #Funnily enough I have actually been watching a series of streams of like VAs and visual artists and writers and stuff #And they are constantly uptalking 2D talksprites as mood-setters for dialogue #So it was really fun to make these with that in the back of my head like ''Yeah! :D They /are/ good at that!''#Very cool expressive medium :D #See if you can spot the first drafts for a few of these :3c #I'll give you a hint: Scared and Sad(? Regretful ig lol) were from some posted doodles #His grumpy one was also a doodle but I didn't post it so it doesn't count lol #Oh yeah and and a lot of these had little accessories like the fear bursts and the little sigh bubble lol I just...forgot them here lol #They're there in spirit please feel the grump lines and sweat drops in your heart <3 #I had a heck of a time trying to keep his face consistent with different angles lol aren't VUX nervous to move their necks me #Just gotta actually get into 3D modeling properly smh #I keep finding myself wanting to make more now that this set's done but I'm not sure what expressions! Confused? Focused? He's so subdued #Oooh he'd suit an expression meme wouldn't he <3 Now there's an idea #Might even open an ask game for that if I can find a good one :3c Hehehe

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falldogbombsthemoon · 1 month

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Yall haha, my dad made it so I have wifi access for one hour a day. which I can use from like 14 to 21 german time. So once my mobile data is dead, I will not be active that much ig. So please dont think I'm abandoning yall.