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lovelycheollie · 3 years

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Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.” –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing. Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

“Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I’ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

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Kitten?

This is something I came up with at midnight while trying to complete my numerous missing assignments. I apologize in advance

Summary: Tsukishima Kei is a mod of a discord server And with his luck, he finds his first love on the server he runs. He falls head over heels, and vows to fulfill all her needs. However, not everything is what it seems.

Tsukishima was a simple man with simple likes. Granted, However, these likes weren’t as commonplace among his peers.

Sure, he moderated a Discord Server full of people of all ages. In said server, they would play games and talk about the various shows they watched together, some of which were considered children shows.

“Anyone catch the new episode of My Little Pony?” someone on the server would ask.

Tsukishima would bat in immediately, saying, “Remember the two-week spoiler warning, everything else must be covered and properly tagged.” He was the perfect mod, as he was both online all the time he didn’t have school or practice, as well as he was a stickler for the rules. Plus, he had only recently gained access to last week’s episode not long ago, therefore, he had not seen the new episode.

Another thing he liked to do on this server was talk to others on the voice call feature. He enjoyed talking to the many people who decided to join the server, even making a couple of friends, which he refused to believe for the longest time.

One of these many friends was a user that went by the name of gamergirl05. She was a peculiar person, only logging in late at night and logging out early in the morning, only to be away from her computer until late that night again.

She intrigued Tsukishima. Not only was she one of the only girls on the server, she always seemed to be on the voice chat. She never typed messages, never spoke, unless she was spoken to on the voice call.

Her voice was soft and breathy, with a medium pitch. Her profile picture was a white cartoon cat against a pastel pink background. Sometimes, when playing videogames, you could here her grunt in frustration every once in a while.

Tsukishima couldn’t help from gaining a crush.

She didn’t seem clingy, she seemed rather chill and independent, it was like God itself sent this woman into Tsukishima’s life.

She was perfect.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but get excited whenever he saw that she was online. He would always join the voice call whenever he saw she was online.

They would have meaningful conversation. Tsukishima would learn much about her. She was living in Tokyo. She was a year older than Tsukishima; a second year in high school. She had been playing videogames for as long as she could remember. She has an overactive imagination, pretending that she was getting chased by dragons and facing checkpoints every time she walked to school in the morning. She wasn’t popular, but had a couple of close knit friends.

The more they talked, the more Tsukishima fell head over heels. However, the more he started to fall for her, the more he realized that he didn’t know how to express himself in a positive way. He was known as a negative nelly most of his life, with his relationship with the fellow members of the Karasuno volleyball club solidifying that feeling of disgust he felt toward others. Ever with his best friend Yamaguchi he was unable to show positive feelings toward, even though he didn’t feel anything negative toward his best friend.

Unknowing what to do, he looked up online ‘how to show someone you like them,’ only to come up with a website offering a free test to those wondering what their love language was. perfect.

Tsukishima took the test, answering each question as truthfully as he could, even asking his mom what she thought of him for one of the questions.

After thirty minutes of reading, understanding, and clicking, Tsukishima gat the result he was looking for- his love language.

His love language was gift-giving.

He knew exactly what to do at that point.

Later that night, he stared at the voice call box, waiting for a certain someone to join the call. At 11:00pm on the dot, gamergirl05 joined the call. Tsukishima joined the call soon after.

“Um, hey, uh, how was your day?” Tsukishima asked her.

“My day? I guess it was okay,” she replied. Her voice was still light and breathy as usual. Not too high-pitched as to make Tsukishima believe that she was fake, and not to low to make her sound unattractive to him. The perfect voice for arguably the perfect human.

“Do you have Nitro by any chance?” Tsukishima asked her.

“No, I don’t see the benefit for paying for it myself,” she replied.

“If someone got it for you, would you use it?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“I-I Don’t mid gifting it to you, if you tell me your Venmo, Ill send the money right now!”

“Ok.”

She read off a couple of letters and numbers, spelling out her Venmo for him to gift money to. Tsukishima used his mom’s credit card to send her over $50, with the unspoken promise of paying her back one day, even though she didn’t even know her youngest son stole her card.

They talked the rest of the night, until Tsukishima had to go to bed.

XxX

Tsukishima didn’t let up on his gifts to gamergirl05, or Cat as she started referring herself to. Anything she mentioned offhandedly form a new skin to a longing for a fast food meal, Tsukishima sent her the appropriate funds needed to retrieve that item.

Each monetary gift he sent on Venmo was given a reply of the kissing face emoji.

Tsukishima was over the moon. Not only was he becoming better at volleyball every day after school, but he was also getting closer and closer to Cat. When he found out that he was going to Tokyo for a training camp, he excitedly went online that night to tell cat about how he was going to be in Tokyo and that maybe they could meet up.

“Sorry, but I have plans for that weekend,” Cat said. Tsukishima sighed, but figured as much. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

However, he picked himself up by the bootstraps and packed up his stuff to go to Tokyo for the training camp.

XxX

The weekend was tough. Karasuno faced loss after loss against the Tokyo powerhouse schools. However, the team had learned a lot about both themselves and their offensive and defensive power.

After a long weekend of training, all the guys were sore. All their muscles were aching and screaming, begging for some relief. The coaches complied, supplying all the players with all the watermelon they could eat.

All the players gathered into groups, talking within each other’s friend groups. Tsukishima kept his distance from the others, with Yamaguchi joining in with them. They talked about various topics here and there, but nothing too serious.

Tsukishima was starting to zone out, thinking about Cat, and what she may or may not be doing. He hated to admit it, but he was head over heels in love, even though he had never seen Cat in a picture, much less in person.

While Tsukishima was zoning out, thinking of his unofficial lover, Hinata, Kenma, and Lev gathered nearby, talking loudly about who knows what. Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention, until the topic of discord came up. All his focus then went into listening in on this conversation.

“So you guys are on discord? What servers are you guys in?” Hinata asked.

“Not too many, I bet Kenma’s on a couple though,” Lev replied, only for Kenma to grunt in reply.

“Oh really! What servers are you on, Kenma?”

“Ehh, just a couple here and there. I frequent a My Little Pony server because a mod there gives me money a lot.”

Tsukishima felt a shock run throughout his body. A My Little Pony server? Maybe he was on the same server as him. He would never bring it up, but he was glad to know someone on the server; talking to 12-year-olds all day did get old.

“Wait, someone pays you to be on a My Little Pony server?” Lev asked.

“No, I think he is somehow attracted to me, every time I mention something I want, he sends me money.” Kenma replied, taking a massive bite out of his watermelon slice.

‘That’s kind of odd, who would give money like that to a guy like Kenma?’ Tsukishima thought.

“How did you do that, Kenma? I could sure use the extra cash,” Hinata asked.

“Well, Kuroo taught me to raise my voice like this to sound like some kind of gamer girl,” Kenma explained in a girly voice. Not too high to sound fake, not too low to sound unattractive. Perfect.

Just like Cat.

‘This has to be a coincidence, there’s no way that Kenma and Cat are the same person’ Tsukishima desperately thought.

“Oh, do you guys want to be friends on Discord, so we can keep in contact?” Hinata asked.

“I guess. I’m gamergirl05#0000,” Kenma replied, essentially murdering Tsukishima with his response.

Tsukishima stood up from where he was sitting. Forgetting the fact that he was still supposed to be in a conversation with Yamaguchi, he left the area, trying to find a secluded area, eventually settling for a small ally in between two of the gyms.

Once making sure he couldn’t be seen, he let all his held-in emotions out. He screamed up to the sky as the threw his watermelon rind against the wall, watching it break into numerous pieces.

“My Heart!” he screamed out, “I loved her!” He sank to the ground and let the tears flow. As he wailed out in despair, he covered his face with one hand while knocking his fist against the grass with his other.

Yamaguchi, who saw this all go down, ran up to go comfort his best friend. He didn’t know what was going on, other than the fact that his best friend was a mess on the floor.

How was Tsukishima going to tell his mom, who was already suspicious of him stealing her credit cards, that the money wasn’t being spent on her future Daughter in law? How was he going to log back in on the server, knowing he was cat fished?

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. All he knew at that moment was the soft an warm hand of Yamaguchi softly rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #hq #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi #hinata shōyō #shoyo hinata #kenma #kenma kuzome #lev haiba #fanfiction #this fanfic is stupid af I'm sorry #discord #discord mod #discord kitten

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mcrmadness · 3 years

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Madness draws: my dä fanart from when I had my (arts) comeback in 2018

For years I didn’t draw anything because of a personal (art crisis) and because I simply was studying and working so much I just had no energy left for arts.

In 2018 I was done with schools and studying and dropped out of the school I was in at that moment, and also the horse stable I was working at (school related stuff) was sold and closed its doors so also my work ended. For the first time in almost 5 years I was actually free. The longest holidays I had has was 3 weeks summer holiday in 2016, I think. I had another in 2017 but of that I actually was having health issues (nothing serious) for 2 weeks and then had to be in school for the 3rd one, after which I even got the flu.

So I was SO excited when I finally was free the first day of November in 2018. After I had got enough sleep and rest, I started to find my creativity again. And I started to “daydream” before falling asleep every night, I started to write fanfictions in my head and I started to draw, too. Partially it was also because for the first time in years I had an online friend I enjoyed talking with and we had similar interests, aka dä and Bela/Farin, and that inspired me a lot to draw even more - but unfortunately that friendship did not work out in the end and we’re no longer friends.

Anyway, most of these drawings are very much Bela/Farin related again because I talked about that a lot with this person and I often asked what they’d want to see and then drew it if the idea was something I could carry out.

This is not the first one I drew but maybe the 4th or so. I’m just putting this here first because it’s the most “innocent” aka not too much shippy stuff rubbed into the faces of my followers who don’t care about that. There’s 5 different drawings + 1 comic behind the read more link. All of these, apart from the comic, where drawn into my old sketchbook.

About the drawing above - I didn’t use pencil for these first ones at all yet, I just drew them with the fineliners as I was still a bit rusty as the last time I REALLY drew anything was in 2013 aka over 5 years ago from 2018, so I had to actually look at my old comics and drawings to even figure out how to draw these characters anymore. And I think the last actual time I drew in this style was in 2011 even. And that is very visible from the first 2018′s drawing I did! ↓↓↓

This is the one - and wait, I have an explanation!

So with this person I mentioned, we just constantly had this playful debate over whether Bela is “bottom” or not - and honestly I couldn’t care less about that because I no longer read any fanfics. I do write fanfics - or a fanfic - but only for myself and as an asexual I have never been interested in writing about certain themes so I never need to think about the whole top/bottom stuff anyway. I used to read smut before until I one day just realized it’s SO BORING and uninteresting to read, started skipping all smut scenes and wanted to read fluff but all the fluff was so quickly and badly written because everyone wanted to write smut only, that I was left with absolutely nothing to read. So it was the old story again: I started writing/drawing the stuff I wanted to read and see.

However, back to the top/bottom topic, I always base my opinions with everything over how things are in real life and with these guys, if you look at how they are in interviews and on stage, the dynamics are not just plain black&white. I’ve never seen there anything that would indicate that just one is “top” or “bottom” whatsoever which is why I kept saying imo they’re more like just switching if you listen to their jokes. Remember: I don’t read any fanfiction and don’t give a fuck about smut (lol at the pun) and honestly, even tho I understand those jokes they do and say on stage, I wish not to have any visuals about any of that “activity” in my head.

So, to support my “they switch!” opinion, I drew this, just for fun. And it is the official first drawing I did in 2018. I just needed to fire back bigger than I could do with simple text messages :D

***

Moving on. The person in question was very fascinated by the idea that Farin would be a vampire and not Bela (to support their top/bottom views...) which is why I drew this:

Also a very quick one, without sketching anything before drawing with fineliners. This and the first image of this post both are very small in real life actually, the signature is about the same size in every drawing so you can see from that that they are actually pretty small.

Talking of the signature: The funniest thing to me about this IS the signature. Because I was so rusty I didn’t even know how to write it anymore :DDD You can compare it to the signature in the other drawings because in them it’s better. Why it’s so funny to me is because it should say “Aada” but it looks more like “Hella” which means “stove” in Finnish.

***

Next one was something I saw in my head and wanted to draw - I think this one was also done without sketching it at first:

Kinda simple, right? :D I just wanted to draw something with heavy shadows and they’re meant to be watching TV at night. I guess it came out pretty okay.

***

The next two I drew based on one of my old fanfics I wrote years and years ago. I’m a bit annoyed that I decied to draw these into my SKETCHBOOK when I could have used just paper I use for drawing but I guess I didn’t know yet where I was going to end up with these and drew them into the sketchbook because of that. I thought I didn’t sketch these at first but I have found photos of these with sketched with pencil so that means I started sketching my drawings at this point.

So, back to the fanfic, it’s one of the longer ones I wrote (but still not that long even) and set to happen in the late 80s. There was some drama in the story because of Bela’s drug use and Farin was very harsh and Bela left altogether. For some time they had no idea where each of them were but then one very rainy night they both were on a walk at the same time and happened to stumble upon each other for the first time in weeks or so. I can still see those scenes so vividly in my head and here’s my artistic view over those scenes:

Yes. I love drawing stuff like BRICKS.

I have used my Promarkers with the second image, the paper was not the best for them which is why the black looks awful.

What comes to the image... it really annoys me to look at that because how the FUCK that is something I have drawn? And it’s legit based on something I have written. ME??? Like wtf. My aroace ass just can’t handle me writing/drawing fluff like this. I have days when I need to see fluff more than anything and then have to produce the content because can’t find it from anywhere else and my brain is simultaneously like “flufffff 8))))” and “boohoo whyyyyy how staaaaaph D:” because I am so afraid of being connected to what I draw. Like. If I draw or write fluff, it doesn’t mean I would be a romantic person nor allosexual nor alloromantic, right? Because I can also draw a comic or write a story about a murderer and it doesn’t make me a psychopath either. It’s the exact same thing.

And in fact: I had a comic book character who was called Micro the Insane Murderer because that’s what he was. Also I once wrote a story about a serial killer but she was also insane. But for whatever reason it’s much harder to show people fluff I have written or drawn than my fictional serial killer stuff... I guess people just easier assume that you’re an allo, thanks to anormativity, but usually don’t think you’re a psychopath just because your OC is :D

***

The last one is the comic that has a Halloween theme as it was around Halloween and the person I talked with still wanted to see/read something where Farin is the vampire instead. So here’s something that was my first B/F comic in 7 years. I didn’t remember how to do pretty much anything anymore and the coloring is a bit off, and I was really still just trying to figure out how to do all this again :D

At that point I think my head was still filled with fanfiction stuff so the comic also is full of (hurt/comfort) drama - and a long-ass “backstory”. You can see that from this on I have moved to more humorous stories. Sometimes I draw occassional fluffy comics when I’m really on that weird mood (usually 1-2 days/month thanks to the uterus and hormones), but my main focus is on the humour and I wish to make people laugh.

But that’s about it. I think I have now posted everything here, the newer ones I have posted here after drawing them since 2019 but this post is the “missing link” between those old old comics and the newer stuff :D Then I of course have all the other traditional art like potraits and such I did in 2009-2012 which I have never shown here. Maybe I should post those too?

#mcrmadness draws #my dä comics #my fub comics #my dä drawings #dä fanart #die ärzte #belafarin #my OLD dä fanart

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lavenderek · 3 years

Note

So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya

#who is this even #haters #long post #please DO NOT REBLOG

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speuradair · 3 years

Note

We talking about F/Os and Ocs? You've summoned a demon im pretty sure i talked about this Oc before im just not sure you got the message

My F/O name is Jane. She's a oc of mine and doesn't come from any type of media. She has brown hair with bangs and a ahoge that sticks straight up, along with a small ponytail that is down to her shoulder and is held up with a thick black band. She has black eyes and a pointy nose. Her outfit is a bit simple, she has a dark brown coat, a plain white shirt, a belt that can hold up big items, baggy jeans, and comfy brown boots. The only clothing that can be pointed out as unique is her bandana, which is a dark blue with a cresent moon and fake butterfly in the middle of it.

Her personality is timid and cold until provoked. When provoked her usual shy and fearful state can turn into something much more out of control and violent, luckily it's difficult to make Jane provoked. Happiness is rare but still possible.

Jane is also a misunderstood criminal as well. At a young age of 12 someone (she still doesn't know who to this day) found out her family was using magic and potions and thought the family was satanic and dangerous. Both assumptions were false, 1. Her family was actually quite religous and visited the local christian church every week. 2. Her family is the nicest people you'd ever known and the only reason they don't use it for dangerous reasons was because they were afraid someone was going to somehow find out how it was made and abuse the power. The person called a task force named the MPSC, which took away Jane's only family members, her mom and her dad. She barely managed to escape. She grabbed everything her hands could grab and just ran out of her small town and into the woods. The few things she kept with her were, a few potions, a notebook, a bandana her parents made, and a lullaby that she still remembers to this day.

12 years later, she's now a adult. She has been hiding for so long some thought she was dead. But she is still alive and well, she has a secret underground home that she built herself, that is small but oddly cozy. It looks normal if you ignore that it has no windows and a crap ton of LED lights. However there is one room in her home that looks bright and very dark at the same time, theres millions of cabinets, the whole room looks like a weird lab, and that's where she stores all her elixirs and potions. She has aleast 4,000 stored. Some are dulplicates of eachother and others are completely unique.

Remember when I mentioned that Jane is a misunderstood criminal? Here's something else that screwed her life up. A year ago someone somehow manage to catch her using magic and posted it online. Much to Jane's and the MPSC disliking, it went viral. News stations were talking about her. Theorists were making theories about her and how she magic was used and made. People were talking about her, some despised her, some didn't care. Everything went out of control, which led her to leave the woods where her home laid less often. Not to mention the "weird" stuff she'd seen people say.

However when she did go out she has to drink a shapeshifting potion that lasts 5 to 7 hours. She especially has to be careful of the time limit due to the nearest places was a huge city full of people, almost as big as tokyo. When she goes out as a whole new identity she tries to be as boring, predictable as possible, so people get bored of her quickly, she only does this because she doesn't want people finding out who she really is. If you're a stranger to her and somehow bump into her while she's herself she'll tell you to "Get lost and forget I was here" but if you keep on bothering her, be prepared to get knocked out because she always carries her elixir and potions and along with being 6'4 ft.

She may be intelligent to build a whole house and make magic. But she has very poor social skills. She doesn't even know what a hug or a kiss is.

Y/N: Hey Jane can I get a hug!

Jane: What's a hug?

Becoming friends with her is very VERY rare, due to the circumstances Jane has to live in along with the addition of trust issues. She will be very subtle with it or push it to the side. She did a small chore for you "because I had nothing else to do" Gave you a blanket or coat "Because you wouldn't shut up about the cold" Always being her first choice "Because you're the only person I can actually talk to". But she just doesn't know how to show affection so she does things that she sees as helpful.

Aight F/O gushing time, be prepared

She has a godly singing voice, if you bother convince her enough she will begrudgingly accept, but you will quickly be put into the most peaceful sleep you've ever been in your life! SHE DOES THIS FOR FREE ASWELL.

Once you're asleep she'll awkwardly just stare at you for a while, then once she's done she'll check everything to make sure everything is safe and nothing's going to kill or kidnap you. Once she has checked everything she has several options. 1. Cuddle up next to you. 2. If you're in a position that seems uncomfortable, her 6'4 body will pick you up and put you somewhere more comfy. 3. Sleep nearby you, she can not sleep in another room due to paranoia that you'll just dissapear by the time she wakes up.

She's very protective and scared that she's going to lose the one she loves (again). If you're in any kind of danger she'll help you escape or fight. However she knows that her lover isn't weak so she'll only panic when your actually in a serious bad condition. But for someone to protect her? Absolutely not! She can deal with herself thank you! But she only acts like this since she's in constant danger from the MPSC (the task force that's trying to hunt her down)

There you go my F/O Jane!

-glitch

SHE SOUNDS SO AWESOME?? I love her, she deserved the world :')

I'm really impressed that you came up with her! She sounds so thought out and we'll developed, I'm kind of jealous of your creativity lol /lh

#janedeservedbetter2021

#ily #rae answers #hikikomorihouseofglitches #ocs #f/os

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Red flag pt.3

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Soon brothers.

Just not yet. :D

In the following week, Mikasa learned more about sex than she ever did before. While the internet itself was a fickle teacher, giving facts and hundred and more opinions from anonymous users, Eren was an endless well of knowledge. It was her who asked first too, he didn’t even try to talk about it before Mikasa brought it up. And how could she help herself, with such an insane bomb being dropped on her!

First things first – she googled the name of the agency he worked at, just to be sure that he was not bulshitting her, but everything he said seemed to be true. The website was there, displaying the “ wide variety of services done by long-term professionals”. Although Eren’s name was not there, he told her that he is listed as Master E, a thing she immediately questioned. Over messenger, of course.

Master E? Damn that’s lame.

You wound me :(

I mean seriously, couldn’t you be something cooler?

Such as?

I don’t know! Master Evil. Dungeon Master. Lord of the Night?

Yea, I’m sure that dungeon master would be turning heads

….. Orgasminator?

Mikasa pls

Lord horsecock

Stoooooop I beg you!

Fine fine, you’re just jealous I’m that much better at naming than you

Sure am.

When he didn’t continue, Mikasa took the initiative.

Sooooooooooo, gonna tell me where the Master E came from?

Simple. Annie wanted to be Mistress A so I just latched onto her vibe

Uh-hu. So you are just that much unoriginal

:( sadly

Just imagining Eren pouting at his phone made Mikasa’s evening that much brighter. She wanted to see more of it.

Latching on Annie, you do that a lot don’t you?

Why is that?

Well, she’s the one who introduced you to this whole thing and even today she is the best at your agency, most advertised one too. Playing catch up your whole life? Maaaaaaster E? :P

Hey, it’s not my fault that men are bigger pervs than women.

Excuses

To be honest, I don’t mind being behind Annie, she’s good at this. Also, don’t tell her this, but she scares me sometimes

Scares you how :O

Annie can be really brutal when she gets into it. Nothing the clients don’t ask for, mind you, but still. If you’d see her victims….. the wounds……

Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat.

Are you serious?

I don’t know…. Am I?

Dork.

She frowned at her phone, but still looked when the answer pinged in.

I am partly serious though. She can be a nightmare, sometimes I feel like she’s on a one-woman crusade against the male population. And she’s getting paid for it too!

She sounds like a hell of a woman.

You bet :)

Master E also had several scenes online, to be bought and watched, and a few times Mikasa almost clicked the button and spent her hard-earned cash on kinky porn. It was the promise of a live show that stopped her from doing so. She didn’t know if she’s going to go yet but buying a video of something she could watch happening in real time was a waste of money. No, she wouldn’t spoil that surprise.

She learned much anyway, way too much even, things that made her blush and hide her face, things that made her quickly hide her phone. In moments like these, she was grateful that the communication was being done over the internet, as Eren was way too intense of a person to be talked about this face to face. Here, hidden behind her screen, she could pester him for ages, joking and making fun of whatever he gave her. And, during these conversations, she learned another important thing.

For a guy who was more or less a professional perv, Eren used a lot of emojis in his messages.

It caught her off guard, how normal and easy to talk to he was. She didn’t think that he was a monster or something, but Eren was right when he said that her opinion of him changed fundamentally once she found out about his job. Mikasa found herself texting to him, a lot, and he texted back, snapped photos until she started doing it too, and overall just had a great time. Levi was giving her sidelong glares when he kept catching her while she stared at her phone, grinning like a maniac, but she simply ignored him. How was she supposed to not laugh when Eren just sent her a photo of his cup from a coffee shop with a crying emoji. Apparently, they spelled his name wrong again and kept calling him Aaron.

What’s the most common thing they ask you to do?

She half hid her face in the pillow, already dreading the answer. The three dots that appeared in the corner indicated that he was typing an answer, and soon enough there was a ping.

I feel like I’ll disappoint you here.

Most of my clients are easily satisfied - basic bondage/dominance stuff works wonders

They could do that with literally anyone else

Like their boyfriends and stuff

Mikasa frowned, typing an answer.

Why don’t they then?

Ping

Sometimes it’s the professionalism I bring to the table, and then I understand them.

But often it's just a lack of communication

You’d be surprised how many things can be solved if two parties talk to each other.

I usually advise it too, tell them that they could be doing this with someone they love and not me

You undermine your own clientele like this? Mikasa wrote Why would you do that?

A few dollars ain't worth if they could be happier. Then again, not every one of them takes my advice, it's difficult to open up about things like these.

That gave Mikasa a perfect chance to poke at him.

Not for you, apparently :p

Ping

:D true, but I work in the business

The range of things they discussed was wide. Save for her past, which she did not want to talk about, and made it crystal clear too, Mikasa shared a lot. She told him all about her brother and the gym, sent him snaps from her workouts and then typed back angry emojis when he called her sweaty tryhard. His overall ignorance towards something that was a big part of her life did raise a question. Grabbing her phone more firmly, she quickly typed it out.

Haven’t you thought about doing any martial art yourself?

You deff got the figure for it.

A ping later there was an answer.

Bold of you to say that when you never saw me shirtless :P

But nah

I’m a lover, not a fighter

Plus, you’re just trying to recruit me to your gym, aren’t you?

Levi promised you a bonus?

Spill your beans, Ackerman

Damn spammer. Yet Mikasa was smiling again, which made Levi, who just happened to be passing by, groan.

“Don’t you have a client coming?”, he asked.

She shook her head.

“In an hour, I’ve got plenty of time to get cleaned up.”, she made a gesture with her hand, “Now shoo, I’m having a conversation.”

“With Sasha?”

“Huh?”, she looked up, puzzled, “Why would it be Sasha?”

“Cause I never saw you smiling this much before.”

One week turned to two, and suddenly the day of Eren’s show was here. He remained true to his word, never bringing that event up, keeping it completely in her hands, if she wanted to show up or not. Mikasa was uncertain. The mystery pulled her in, she wanted to see these things for herself. Watching it on the internet is one thing, but live show….

All the stories Eren told her only fueled such a flame. He always omitted names and such, for the discretion of his clients, but he didn’t hold back on the details. To be fair, Mikasa did ask for those.

Sasha wasn’t much help in her decision process either, because Mikasa didn’t want to share all the details about Eren yet. She told her friend that the guy from the bar invited her to a strange-looking place, and wanted to know if she should go.

“Did you two fuck?”

Mikasa frowned, realizing that Sasha can’t see her over the phone.

“No Sash, we didn’t. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, okay.”, there was a crack on the other side as she probably munched on another potato chip, “And is he a friend-friend, or friend-you-would-like-to-fuck?”

“Why is that the question?”

Sasha giggled.

“Dunno just wanted to ask.”

“You’re not helping at all….”

“Because it's easy! You either trust that guy and go or don’t trust him, block his number and never see him again. Boom, solved!”

If only it was so simple.

Yet when the day rolled around, Mikasa woke up with a decision in her mind. She’s going to go there. Eren was a great friend, and she was curious about this whole thing. She will be masked, anonymous, and if there is something she won’t like, the door will be there. This raised another question, however, of what does one wear to a BDSM club.

Mikasa, in her vanilla life, did not feel the need to buy anything made of leather or latex and wasn’t about to start now. There was one pair of leather paints she used to own until one day a completely random guy on the street told her that her ass looks really good in them. Mikasa threw those pants right out that evening. Public exposure was something she was NOT looking for. So, she had a small variety to choose from anyway. Mostly jeans, one or two skirts and a single dress that she wore to prom and that probably wouldn’t fit her anymore. Standing in front of the wardrobe, she contemplated calling Sasha again but ultimately decided against it. Mikasa Ackerman is a grown woman. She can choose her own clothes, damn it.

In the end, it was just a simple shirt and jeans combo. She reasoned that it added to her secretiveness, as anyone could wear what she was wearing. Satisfied with her completely basic appearance, she headed for the door, grabbing the keys and popping her head into the kitchen.

“I’m heading out.”, she announced, “Borrowing the car too.”

“Oh? And you tell me now?”, Levi tsked, shaking his head, “Damn brat, you really have no manners. When will you be back?”

“Later, maybe tomorrow. Don’t wait up.”

The words were already forming in Levi’s mouth, but Mikasa spoke faster.

“I’m an adult, so please. Just don’t.”

And, to her surprise, he didn’t.

“Fine. But if there is even a single scratch on the car, I’m taking it out of your paycheck.”

“That’s fair. I’ll see you later then.”

“Later.”, he was already half-turned back towards the Tv, before he added, “Drive safely.”

And that’s how, an hour and a half later, she was standing in front of a completely unassuming building. The door was just like any other, with a small sign and everything, not strange in the slightest. The security guard might have been a bit of a giveaway. He was tall, wide and dressed in a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. When Mikasa approached, he sized her up and down.

“I’m afraid that this is a members only club.”, he spoke in low barytone, “Do you have a card?”

“I uhh... I was told that I can come in. I’m a friend of Eren, my name is Mi-…”

The guard raised a hand before she could finish.

“No names, please. We pride ourselves on anonymity.”

Seeing Mikasa nod, he continued.

“Mr. Yeager did tell me that someone might be coming and that I should let them straight in. So I will do just that.”, he stepped aside, “Once you enter, the masks will be to your right, and after choosing one please don’t forget to return it. Enjoy your stay.”

Mumbling her thanks, Mikasa dipped inside, finding herself in a small room. There were the masks, just as the guard said, and another door that led to the club itself. She could hear muted music coming through. First things first, she stepped closer to the selection, casting an inspecting eye over it. There were several types, all possible shapes and sizes form full hoods to tiny eye-masks. After a bit of healthy consideration, she grabbed a black one that covered the upper half of her face, more than enough to remain anonymous. It was not likely that she would meet anyone that knew her anyway, let’s be honest. Masked, ready as ever, curious and wanting to see more, Mikasa took a deep breath and entered the door, stepping right into Eren’s world.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #see you in 2021 #maybeh

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icewindandboringhorror · 4 years

Photo

Okay, here’s a final answer, just for clarification -

Firstly, please understand that I’m not angry, and I’m not upset. I just tend to speak very matter of factly, I guess? If I seem cold or something when typing this response, it's not a personal attack towards you or some display of aggression, that's just how I word things sometimes, I don't mean for them to be misinterpreted or want you to think I’m like getting mad with you or etc. Me disagreeing does not inherently equal me being mad about something, it merely means that I disagree, which is an emotion neutral action. If someone said 2+2 = 6, I would disagree, and openly so, but that doesn’t mean I’d also be like, crying about it or upset with them or something lol.

I actually even stated so at the end of my tags last time -

So, I apologize if you interpreted my tone as being mean, but I was simply trying to be firm and direct in how I said things so you understand that it's a very serious matter, and I didn't want to be light about it.

There was a bit of jokiness/sarcasm/exaggeration as well I suppose, but again, that’s not an inherent indicator of upset, just the way I speak - especially when your question can be seen as rude to begin with (which usually leads people to care less about faking positive emotions or seeming polite to others. If a person is not polite to you, you’re not likely to watch how you communicate as much or attempt to display high politeness back). My default state is a neutral flatness as I have a very shallow emotional range (shout out to schizophrenia spectrum negative symptoms and other various issues lol), any excessive positivity or “perkiness” or something that I display is just an attempt to be polite and communicate with others in a simple and kindly manner (in real life I’m often seen as too stoic, blunt, detached, cold, etc. lmao, so in general communication with strangers I tend to overcompensate to being excessively polite instead) - but that also means I can accidentally drop that sometimes if I’m being “real” or whatever.

Anyway, now that concerns over my tone have hopefully been explained, I’ll address this issue about your previous ask in a numbered list. Please read ALL of this, if you are actually taking this seriously. If you don’t actually read, in detail (no skimming), this entire response, then this is not even a discussion since you’re not willing to genuinely engage in the first place. -

Firstly, here is the original ask, for reference ----

As for how your question can be rude:

(1.) In my initial response (in the tags of your answer), I asserted various things, mostly that the question was rude, and that it’s not appropriate to ask people, for a variety of reasons. I’ll explain those in more length here.

My main point is that even asking the question in the first place is rude. It doesn’t matter how specifically you word it, it’s not appropriate. Just like any personal issue. At least in my culture, it’s typically thought of as inconsiderate and inappropriate to ask random strangers personal questions. for example, it would be rude to approach a random stranger on the bus that you’ve never even seen before and ask them why the have the haircut they do, who their sexual partners are, if they’ve just had a death in the family, how well their marriage is going, what their gender is, etc. etc.

(2.) On top of this personal boundary issue, another concern would be that the nature of the question itself is baseless --

Would you ask a cis woman why they're a woman? Or a cis man why he chose to be a man? Would you ask a straight person why they chose to be straight?

Would you find it acceptable and polite if a random stranger approached you on the street and asked you for an explanation as to why you're the gender you are? Imagine that exact scenario happening to you, and if you would find it odd or overstepping boundaries at all.

I doubt you ask this same gender identity question to everyone in your life, to your parents, friends, the cashier at your grocery store. Why is it only certain groups that need to explain or justify their identities to you? Only certain groups that you feel the inherent need to question? It's a double standard which further serves to prove the question itself is unnecessary.

(3.) Additionally, in case you're genuinely unsure of tone (maybe you have difficulty reading social cues or something, that’s understandable) I will explain - the way in which the question was asked has certain implications.

The statement “Why are you nonbinary? You seem like a pretty girl to me”, implies that - due to your beliefs about me/how you see me, you find it confusing that I could have a certain identity that you see as not matching your perception of me, or that you see as an invalid label, and are asking for me to justify or explain myself/my identity to you because of that.

Even if this implied meaning was not intentional, it is what most people will interpret upon reading the question, and would be a commonly held understanding. There are other ways you could have asked the question which would be less condescending, yes, but again, the other points still stand (like that the question in itself is impolite to ask to strangers, etc.)

Again, revisit the imaginary scenario of a stranger approaching you on the street and asking you why you’re the gender you are - would there not be some of this implication present? For example, say you’re a man - would it not feel as if someone were questioning your manhood, or implying you weren’t truly a man, or must not be a man ‘correctly’, or that ‘man’ is not a valid label for how they see you? Why else would they approach you and ask you in confusion for you to justify your identity to them? The implication is that they don’t see you as a valid man, or at least not how they see a man, and thus are having a hard time accepting that someone like YOU could ever be a real man - that it’s hard for them to believe you are what you say you are, because they see you differently.

(3.a) As an additional sidenote (one which I addressed in the tags replying to you initially), your ask (as well as this more recent one) also made certain assumptions. There are plenty of people who ''look like girls'' or 'look like boys' but aren't as they “seem”, even if you're someone who only believes in a “binary biological sex model” (I’ll include some links at the end about this). It's strange to assume someone's body parts or identity just based off of pictures you see on the internet (which often have specific lighting, angles, or in the case of many people are even edited and etc. I don't do this but it's really common nowadays with phone editing apps and stuff). Just because I appear a certain way to you, in no way implies that I have the physical form and traits you assume I have Consider how you may feel invalidated or uncomfortable if people sent you messages assuming personal things about you that are incorrect or that they have no way to possibly know.

Your standards and perception are also not universal, various cultures and groups have different ideas about what outward traits would make someone considered a “man” or a “woman”, so making your judgement of someone else’s identity based only on your own (extremely shallow, since it’s only from online pictures) perception of them, is also inherently a bit flawed.

(3.b-ish side tangent) In extension to this, your ideas and how you view me are likely incorrect. Just as it is similarly true that, from afar, any assumptions I make about you would likely be inaccurate as well. We are strangers.

For example, if you really knew me, you would know that I don’t pride myself in costumes and makeup - It’s a fun creative activity for me definitely, but I feel no pride over it, I don’t do it to look good or seem a certain way, and actually I resent it in a way, because often it feels like people mostly only pay attention to blurry pictures of me looking silly in cheap wigs, but don’t give that same level of engagement to the other more important things I do that I personally care about 100x more, like my worldbuilding and other projects lol. Absolutely nothing against the people who like my costumes, I appreciate them of course!!, and I still love doing costumes - BUT, to imply that it’s a primary source of pride in my life or a characteristic that defines me over other things, would be a mischaracterization.

Anyone who knows me in real life would certainly list a million other stand-out traits to define me, rather than ‘pretty make up woman’ (most people I know in real life would also not describe me as ‘pretty’ or as a ‘woman’, just for reference lol).

Your one sided perception of me (which I’ll address in the next section) may allow you to have a shallow idea of me as some sweet pretty costume girl or something, but just know that the reality is more like: I haven’t had much time lately to do costumes because I’m working on a game and other art which I see as much more important, I haven’t bathed or brushed my hair in weeks because of mental illness/functioning issues, 99% of the time I’m not ‘’dressed up’’ - I wear the same pajamas and cardigan that I’ve worn for the past 3 years and barely wash to the point that it’s disintegrating and leaves fabric scraps around the house lol, I have a little moustache right now and a unibrow and other “””non-womanly”””” traits (at least by common media western standards, which is what I assume you go by), I’m excessively analytical, detached, and in real life you would probably see me as blunt and cold and cynical (also commonly missing social cues) - as well as being hugely asocial/ a hermit and mostly lacking the ability to form attachments to others (So definitely not ~pretty and cute and approachable~ ghgg), I have obsessive compulsive disorder and am regularly so anxious that I’m throwing up and have various other issues - I’m also not Fun or Cool or Spontaneous because I’m too busy being rigid and high strung lol (even before the pandemic, I don’t like to leave the house or interact much at all with others, I’d rather be in my little controlled environment where I don’t have overwhelming sensory information and distractions raising my anxiety constantly),, and my favorite activities are literally all just stuff like pacing around my home alone talking to myself in different voices creating gods and fake religions for my fantasy worldbuilding while I eat boiled cabbage and light little pieces of paper on fire over a candle to help me think - not doing makeup and other Pretty Woman Things.

Which I don’t want to be too harsh or focus on this tangent too much, since obviously as you don’t know me in real life, these are all things you couldn’t possibly be aware of, and it simply comes with the territory of posting publicly online - so I absolutely don’t blame you for perceiving me incorrectly. If “pretty” pictures are all you see, then that may very well be the only impression that you have. I just personally dislike this certain interpretation some people have seemed to have of me (you’re not the first person to think of me as a Pretty Makeup Girl or whatever lol), since it’s so completely opposite from the truth of who I am, I feel the need to explain it like this sometimes. Just accepting the false perception some people have of me without any argument feels disingenuous and like supporting a version of myself that doesn’t exist.

So anyway, no issue with you personally, but just trying to set the perception of me straight a little more accurately lol.. now, back on topic --

(4.) Lastly, and here’s the main thing I’d like to stress, there's the issue of personal boundaries. Again, you're a complete stranger to me, I don't know who you are, and you have no idea who I am. Even if you've followed me online for years and read every post I've ever made, you still have no idea who I truly deeply am, only a vague scattering of snapshots over time.

Here are some definitions for Parasocial Relationships:

“Parasocial relationships are one-sided relationships, where one person extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, is completely unaware of the other's existence. Parasocial relationships are most common with celebrities, organizations (such as sports teams) or television stars.”

“Parasocial interaction (PSI) refers to a kind of psychological relationship experienced by an audience in their mediated encounters with performers in the mass media, particularly on television.[1] PSI is described as an illusionary experience, such that media audiences interact with personas (e.g., talk show host, celebrities, fictional characters, social media influencers) as if they are engaged in a reciprocal relationship with them. The term was coined by Donald Horton and Richard Wohl in 1956. “

This is all anyone can ever have with people they follow online. You can perceive them, but you cannot know them or truly understand them. I think this is very important to remain cognizant of in such a massive social media age, as often times people are fostering one sided concepts that are inaccurate or unhealthy (no so much with just you sending me a simple ask, but in a broader sense, how people act towards celebrities, other bloggers, etc. etc. seems to have little boundaries, and often results in a similar manner with people forgetting to maintain acceptable boundaries with those they follow or know about from afar).

-- This next part is very important, I think it’s a super valuable way of thinking about this sort of stuff, so if you take away nothing else from this, at least remember this next portion --

A very good way to think about online boundaries that I heard someone mention in a post once (though I can no longer find the post), is to take whatever you're going to say to someone online, and imagine saying it in person, in real life, to a barista. Before you send an ask or make a comment, think about if it’s something you would really genuinely say face to face to a stranger.

Would you walk into a random Starbucks and ask the dude at the counter a bunch questions about their gender identity? Or about his personal life in general? You probably recognize that that would be strange and socially inappropriate. It's similarly inappropriate in a case like this.

Even though you may feel a sense of familiarity with someone online from reading their social media posts, or even speaking to them once or twice through asks and etc. etc., at the end of the day you don’t really know each other much more than you’d know a random stranger.

Unless someone is inviting personal questions (like by reblogging those ‘ask me anything’ posts or etc.), or has the sort of blog where they are commonly asking people about/discussing their own intimate personal experiences or etc. (mine is not this way), then questions like this are very out of the blue and similar to asking a random person working at a store things like that. It can be seen as rude and inappropriate in general to give those sorts of questions to people who are complete strangers, and typically comes off as crossing personal boundaries. Again, think about a random stranger asking you these questions, and how you may perceive it.

In summary:

1. The question itself is borne from an double standard and isn't very good to ask in the first place. 2. The way you asked the question was worded with certain implications. 3. Your ask is also assuming certain things that you don't know are true, which can be uncomfortable for some people. 4. Even were it not for the three other things, it's commonly considered rude in many cultures to ask serious questions about the personal details of complete strangers, even if it's online. It could prove useful to utilize the ‘barista test’ to better determine this in the future.

Final Thoughts:

Anyway, I wasn't mad and I have no beef with you or whatever lol. Hopefully you can understand what I mean. I've also explained myself as well as I think I can though, so I don't feel like discussing it any more and won't respond to further asks about this. I have a lot of things going on in my life right now (as I'm sure everyone does given the pandemic and everything, you probably do too, so hopefully you can empathize with that), so I’d like to limit my time spent online, especially discussing topics I already don’t like to discuss or am not open to accepting questions about (I just want to talk about cats and elves and stuff lol).

If you still can't at least kind of get where I'm coming from then it's perfectly fine to just agree to disagree. If aspects of myself upset you or cause you discomfort, then there's no harm in just unfollowing me or something! Or if you don't even follow me, I would encourage you to block me so my posts no longer come across your dash (or block/unfollow me on whatever other social media you may be seeing my posts on ,etc)., etc. That way you don't have to see content or hear from someone who makes you uncomfortable that way, and there also won't be any need for this to come up in the future. Part of using the internet in a healthy and productive manner is to know when to disengage with certain content and just cut it off/unfollow/block people/etc. if it’s causing you unnecessary conflict or distress, or makes you uncomfortable or etc. to look at. Thank you for the question! Hopefully this response explained things a little better.

Links and Further Info:

On the off chance that you were genuinely curious, here are some resources where you can learn more about people of different gender identities and also hear them explain their experiences, etc. Since these people are actually openly discussing their experiences/making educational content and are obviously actually open to talking about it, that would be a better place to field any further questions or learn about things. :3

Here’s some reading -

Understanding Nonbinary People (link)

Gender Variance Around the World (link)

12 Questions About Nonbinary Gender Answered (link)

About the Sex Binary (link)

Ask LGBT subreddit (link)

one ‘ask a nonbinary person’ blog i found (I don’t know if they’re still active, it’s one of the first ones that came up for me lol, but I guess could be helpful) (link)

And here’s some videos with people talking about their experience, or being educational -

(NOTE: I just did a quick google search and did not deeply research these people and their entire histories and etc., so I can’t say I stand by literally everything they say or know what type of people they are, but it’s just a general place to start~!)

A video examining the idea of gender in general and how it even exists and nonbinary people (definitely interesting to watch) (link)

video about nonbinary gender/explanations (probably at least watch this one too) (link)

What is a nonbinary gender? (shorter general info) (link)

answering all your nonbinary questions q&a (link)

Video about binary sex/gender/etc. (link)

5 nonbinary people explain what nonbinary means to them (link)

another video about similar stuff (link)

#Please stop sending me asks about this now. I just want to talk about elves and cats and fantasy writing and stuff #No personal questions unless I specifically comment on something/initiate the discussion or they're about my art or something else I'm doing #lol... especially with everything going on this year #just a big Let Me Relax I Will Deal With Anything Even Remotely Stressful Later mood #ANd anon if you're still here - go listen to 'And the beat goes on' by The Whispers #no real reason gjhgjhg it's just a good song and I had it playing while I was proofreading #(also for context - it hasn't just been two asks - I'm pretty sure this person sent me others. If that's not true then I apologize anon -#but I definitely got multiple asks that were mentioning similar things/of a similar tone (intentionally referring to me as a 'girl' 'woman'#consistently and in a kind of agressive way or etc. (which you can block asks even if they're on anon (i think it's just an IP block) so if #it was indeed this anon sending them then they may be blocked from sending any more asks already because I blocked all those weird ones #I got lol. if it wasn't them then they should still be fine though- but anyway. there were other messages being sent #etc. consistently - which only happened after the first initial ask and would happen regualrly so. etc. etc. Just wanted to mention it since #the 'stop sending me asks about this now' comment doesn't make much sense if you think there was only two asks lol. I'm preetty sure #there were more - though of course they're all anon so I can't confirm. ANYWAY - again.. i have no beef with you but if we don't agree then #please just disengage and stop following my content/sending me asks - and maybe watch some of the videos and stuff or go to #other reasources if you really want to know about this stuff because I'm just not the right person/in the correct mindset to explain it to #you. I can barely do basic daily functions like making sure I eat 3 times a day lol.. I don't have the mental energy to write educational #essays and etc. but SOME people do - which is why pursuing other resources is important. ALSO - listen to The Whispers. that is my #final advice.. put on some good music and just dance and eat some cheddar cheese or something. this will soothe every issue )

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walkingwiththegods1 · 4 years

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Paganism Class 101: 10 What to do, AND… What not to do.

Like anyone, I wasn’t borned knowable about the world. (And Paganism, is not the exception!) I learned, from my own experience; and, eventually… From people like you, telling the joys; sadness, (And, sometimes; mistakes) of being on this path of life. Now: I don’t want to tell you, "An neverending list to remember, about the Do’s and don′t’s about the interraction with The Deities"; when... I can make a short list of ten simple advices, that goes straight to the point! Specially, to the Beginners in Paganism; Wicca, and another ancient paths! (And... To anyone than, despite having years being a Pagan; hopefully, find this useful too: Just keep the parts you feel are useful to you… And, discard the rest! And, sorry in advance; for any mistake in writing: English, is not my native Language!) And, now... The list!

1. Do your Research: If you feel drawn to an ancient tradiction, a ritual; or, to a particular Pantheon; or Deity… Research, before you make your first contact; will pay you well. It shows, that you have an genuine interest and apreciaction, which will make; that things become less difficcult, at the passing of time.

2. Don’t make rituals or spiritual things, before you know EXACTLY what are you going to do: The Spiritual World, is very atractive; but… It’s serious stuff, too! Always ask an Elder, Pagan Priest or Priestess, Witch, or Wiccan; than is an expert in this things, personally; or… Online. (In the long run… It will save you of a lot of troubles!)

3. Do an simple verbal contract, before to start to work/follow/interact with a Deity; or other(s) Spiritual Benevolent Being(s); to keep things in the safe way: If, for example; A Deity, says that will do anything for you… But, by exchange; wants to marry you, and you don’t like the idea; then… Try to do an agreement, where you can give something else, like: Helping people in his/her name, a dessert in the altar or worship corner in an specific day of the week or month; create you best art to put as offering, etc.) But, if that Deity insist that don’t want nothing else, except marry you, and you don’t want that, then… Not deal! Even The Gods, are bound to accept the Free Will. (If is really a Deity, or any benevolent being; will have to leave, if your answer, is… No!)

4. Don’t hearing “Your Inner Voice/Sixth Sense” when communicating with Deities, or when doing something spiritually related: If a voice, suddenly tells you; that don’t go into an specific place or direction, then… You don’t go there, right?! Well, is the same thing; when you are communicating or hearing information with your sixth sense, with your Deity: If you feel, see, hear or senses; there’s something about his/her/their appearence, or behaviour; that is… “Off...” Then… Tell him/her/them, to leave now; in an calm tone: If insist to stay, then; says a mantra of protection, or call to your protective Spirits, so they take care of the being(s). You will live better, if you take this at account.

5. Do the Promises, you know you are going to keep: The Deities, Mother Earth; The Elementals, etc., are not like that friend from your highschool, that you promise to call, but you never called again!… They can make you fulfill your promise, in a way or the other: If you promise to buy a stone for the altar, but; you decide to hang out with your friends; instead. Then, (Suddenly, at last minute) your friends said they must cancel the trip; ‘cause the car that was perfect, the night before; “Now, is not working!”, and you, all annoyed; decided to do a solo trip, to a new store; and, when you see a stone; you remember the promise… AND, that is better to buy the stone now; before your next trip get cancelled by circunstances, out of your control! Is a simple rule, that will keep your relation with The Deities; in the best of the terms: If you know you can’t, then… Don’t promise it!

6. Don’t irrespect a Deity, (Or, any other Spiritual Being) because is not of your Pantheon; culture, or… You dislike, or hate him/her/them: Is truth… You don’t have to love to ALL THE GODS, Ok?! (But… You have to respect them, and to the followers of the same God/Goddess/Gods; you are so happy to dislike, or hate!) They are powerful beings, and… The best way to live a happy life, is leave them be: If you said, or do something you shouldn’t; apologize sincerely, and... Don’t do it, again!

7. Always think than there’s not such thing, like; “Deities 101”: Well, I hearded this very frecuently in Pagan forums, specially about "A Trickster God", than most people said is better to avoid, “Because, he is dangerous: He’s a “Deity 301!” Okay, I going to tell you the truth; about the whole “There’s Deities 101”; (Perfectly fine to interact!) and, “Deities 301”: All The Deities?!... Are 301! (You saw at least once, Aphrodite; angry?… Well, I saw her like that, once: It was really scary! [Thanks to All The Gods, The Universe; and The Supreme... She wasn’t angry with me!])

The Gods or Deities, are in their vast mayority; benevolents, (Even, the ones that are despised; by the mayority of people) But… Speak of them, in an irrespectful way; make suffer or be abusive with someone that is weaker than you; be cruel with a follower of any Deity, mistreat a living being or a family member, (‘Cause "you want... And can!") say a secret someone trust you to keep secret, sparse hurtful rumours that could affect someone; steal, be dishonest, etc. In general: Be an evil remorseless person, and; sooner or later, even; The Deities you think, "Are all so lovely!..."; will make themselves present, and… Is better you have the Gods visit you, ‘cause they love; care, or... Are proud of you. (And, not... To making you regret, for all the evil you have done!)

8. Don’t judged or compares your relationship with The Deities, with the relationship other person have with them: Do that, and you will be very unhappy, in this path. Forget the "Why, he have a Godphone… And, I don’t?!", or... "He have only two years, as a Pagan/Wiccan/Witch; and now, he received a gift from The Deity I had follow for five years!" Or…"I only heard them, but she doesn’t only heard them: She can see them, perceives their fragance; and, she can EVEN touch them!... WHY?!" Well, you shouldn’t think in that way: Because you feel that way… It doesn’t mean, than you are not important or loved; by The Deities! (Maybe, you’re not ready yet; to have a Godphone. Maybe, The Deity you have more thing following; wish you can wait to be more experienced, before give you something you can’t handle at the present moment. Or, maybe... Is better you can’t senses The Deities with all your senses; ‘cause you wouldn’t be able to focus in other important things too, like; for example, your personal safety; or your personal life, in the physical world.) Some get despair, ‘cause they want to become a brother; sister, daughter, son, cousin; lover or spouse, of that God/Goddess/Gods… And leave! Be patient. (And, if doesn’t happen; not worry neither: If you feel their presence, at least in dreams; or, in syncronisities in your awake life… It means, they care enough to at least pass for a moment; to say in their way: “Hi... I’m with you!”)

9. Go little by little, and avoid going directly to "The Heavy Stuff": I know, I’m like repeting the point No. 2 of this list; but is very important telling this, in short: Shamanic Tools, Godspousery; Ancient Symbols for Tattoo, Spiritism’s Sessions, Horsing… All of this, and more; is only for the ones that have enough time in their practices, are serious; and are mature enough; (In experience, not in age) to know what to do, if things; go awry, or… To accept the consecuences. And, being a Godspouse, is not for EVERYONE: You have to show everywhere you go, than you will act with dignity; responsability and kindness, and doing good in the name of that Deity; you love the most. Take baby steps: Waiting to have a stronger soul, is always a good thing to do!

10. The most important thing to do, (And have) is: Discernment!: This is the last, (But, not the least important) of the advices of this list! Look: Sometimes, we’re going to have to use our rational mind; and think: “We are experiencing "The Spiritual World", or… We are at the verge of a psychotic attack for stress, poor nurishment? Or… For a lack of a few nights of good sleep?” Or… We starts to seeing results very quickly, because we are concentrating; and doing everything well? or... Is only, "Wishful Thinking?" The other reason of this point: As a Psychic, I feel responsable to tell you than; despite having contact with Spiritual Beings of Light, almost all my life… I had unpleasant encounters with beings, that poised like benevolent beings.

In November of 2012, I was with the Norse Deities; (Invited, of course) and, I met Balder. Or, who I thought it was him… Until he gave me a look, that makes feel very uncomfortable; so… I went away of him, and return with Thor and Loki, who I know well, and never feel treathened around them. (That encounter, turned me into "A sea of nerves"; wondering what I did, to deserved that treatment.) Two weeks later, I decided to ask directly to Loki, and to the other Deities; that are close to my heart. I was with them, in a flowering hill, but; that detail, is not important. What is really important, is that I got my answer: I asked Loki, (‘Cause is he, Athena; or Quetzalcoatl, who usually tell me; what I need to know.) When I asked Loki, about the past incident with Balder; while I saw Balder, in the lower part of the hill; playing, for a moment; suddenly... I got a revelation:

Me: (Looking at Loki) "He?!… Wasn’t Balder..."

Loki: (In a calm tone, maybe to calmed me down, when I started to panic) "No… He, wasn’t!..."

Despite The Gods staying with me, to comforted me for a few hours; before they have to leaved, I feel terrible and stupid; ‘cause I thoughted this kind of things; could only happened to someone that is starting to untap his/her psychic ablities, not to someone; that has them mostly untapped, since the 3 ½ years old: Since that day… I’m always use my discernment. (Specially, with any new being approaching me; telling me, that is a... "Deity."…)

Without Discernment, with your Sixth Sense… All the other advices in this list, are useless: You can ended, doing something; "You very deep down knew, you shouldn’t did", being unable to distinguish, if you really need to go to Mental Health; or… Don’t walking away quickly from a being, that is thinking in hurt you in ways I better don’t say; so not to upset to people that already had suffer enough.

I hope, the Beginners in Paganism, take this 10 advices; at heart: I wished I have this kind of resources, when I was a kid growing in The Caribbean. Sadly, living in a place where almost all of people is Christian; in a Christian’s Household, with not possibility to find someone to told me what to do; with my spiritual’s abilities, and not being bullied for that… I have to learn by my own, with the few materials that ended in my hands; and only with my Seventh Sense to defended myself, of any being; with not good intentions. Use this list, wisely.

I wish you brighter and better days, to All of us… So be it!

#paganism class 101 #to begginer pagans #to begginer wiccans #to begginer witches #paganism #pagans #pagan advice #pagan writer #pagan writings #pagan gods #pagan goddesses #pagan #eclectic pagan #ecletic pagan #hellenic pagan #lokean #pagan from the caribbean #cause we need this pagan list #so be it

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ghostyprince · 4 years

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And also, for @trashy-artist-here because you prompted something similar. I hope you both like this!!💕

On AO3

The building they're visiting this time isn't such a scary place in Shane's opinion, but then again, anything they have visited so far was tipping towards the gross, dusty, and way too old end of the scale rather than the spooky one.

Sure, it's a long-closed down prison. And sure, the may have tortured and treated the people there like absolute garbage back in the '30s but it's more heartbreaking than anything in Shane's opinion.

But of course, Ryan doesn't think so, he gets lost in his head, psyching himself up, until every shadow, every little scratching sound is making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Not that Shane was looking at Ryan's neck. (Alright, maybe he was looking a little.)

The point is, he's jumpy as all hell, and Shane finds it terribly amusing as always. His shoe scrapes over some debris, and the sound is ear piercing in the quiet, bouncing off of the bare walls.

Ryan cries out, his whole body jerks and Shane can't help himself, he throws his head back, letting out a surprised laugh, although he may feel a little bad about it.

"You're such a piece of shit, Shane!" Ryan groans and Shane loves the way his face heats up, from embarrassment. "I bet you did that on purpose, stop freaking me out, jackass!"

"Stop freaking out then!" Shane wheezes, and pats Ryan on the back, he lets out a little snort when Ryan flinches again, just slightly.

"You're as tense as a stick, man. Or like the stick is stuck up your ass."

"Shane! Fucking can't you just—" Ryan cuts himself off abruptly and he freezes. It's enough for Shane's smile to fall too and morph into actual concern.

He looks in the direction Ryan is staring at, but all he sees is a bunch of dust flying everywhere like someone just rushed through the hallway that's across the one they're standing in.

Huh.

Maybe someone left a window open, his brain supplies. Yeah, that must be it. And that's the simple thought process that goes through Shane's head every time something "unexplainable" happens.

His brain explains it perfectly well.

Ryan's, on the other hand, it seemed to shut down and reboot again.

"Dude, did you see that?" He asks and Shane would laugh at the fact that they're slowly becoming one of those fake ghost hunters on TV. If only Ryan wouldn't look so genuinely terrified.

"It was a guy, he looked like a doctor. He was— he was fucking terrifying. Holy shit I hope the chest cam—" he starts fidgeting with it right away, and Shane takes note of how much his hand is shaking. "It must've recorded it, right? He was fucking covered in blood, please tell me you saw it! Shane!"

The rushed and panicked sound of his name snaps Shane out if his thoughts and he's reaching forward without thinking. His hands land on Ryan's shoulders, gently squeezing.

Shane feels how tense his muscles are under his fingertips but for once he doesn't think about what else those muscles could do with him. He tucks that away for later when it's less inappropriate.

"I didn't see anything Ryan, calm down," he says gently and that definitely doesn't have the desired effect. But Shane's stupid mouth keeps running because of course he never knows when to shut the hell up. "It must've been just—"

"No, shut up! You always fucking do this," Ryan interrupts him abruptly and the words die in Shane's throat. "Don't try to explain it away, I know— I know what I saw, I'm not crazy, Shane."

His voice cracks and Shane realizes he damn stepped in it now. He needs to fix this as soon as possible.

"Hey, I believe, you, of course, I do. But you need to breathe, alright?" He tries and Ryan snorts like he doubts that. Like he doubts Shane would ever see eye to eye with him on the subject of ghosts.

"Tell me that you consider the possibility of it being a ghost then," Ryan asks and Shane wonders when things went so wrong. Was he really such an asshole about the whole ghost stuff?

He must be quiet for too long because Ryan shakes his head slightly.

"Whatever let's just go back to the crew," Ryan says quietly, and he looks so disappointed, Shane wants to slap himself for being such an idiot. Before he could say something, however, there is a set of loud footsteps coming from behind them.

Like someone is running towards them.

Shane spins around, but he doesn't see anything, and he gets distracted anyway because Ryan's loud yelp drowns out the last of the footsteps.

Moments later, a solid body is pressing against Shane's, and he needs a few seconds to process that it's Ryan's.

Normally, he would find it funny, the fact that Ryan is trying to climb him like a fucking tree. But he's not laughing now, because the warm, firm press of Ryan's muscles sends his heart flying up to his throat.

Ryan's arms wound around Shane's waist, and their bodies are lined up from knee to shoulders, with Ryan's face buried into the dip of Shane's shoulder. And Shane feels very hot all of a sudden.

He does wrap his arms around Ryan's shoulders when his brain comes back online again, and Ryan lets out a soft little laugh, breathing right into Shane's neck. It does not help whatsoever.

"I'm sorry. That scared me so fucking much, I think I physically can't move."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here alright?" Shane asks, voice nothing but a scratchy whisper. He's proud he could get that out at the very least and extremely grateful for Ryan's face being tucked into his shoulder because Shane would surely die from embarrassment if Ryan would notice how red he has gotten.

"I know," Ryan laughs, it's a shaky sound, and Shane's hold tightens around him instinctively. They stand there for a heartbeat or two in a tangle of limbs, before Ryan starts slowly extracting himself from the hug.

Shane thinks that's that. They had a nice little moment of comfort and they'll never talk about it again, right? It's how they seemed to do things lately. Get sappy and tender and never speak of it again.

Well, Ryan had something else in mind entirely.

He doesn't go too far, and before Shane could realize that, he's already reaching up, having to stand on his tippy toes to effectively bury his fingers into Shane's hair. And then he tugs.

He tugs Shane all the way down to his eye level and when their lips meet in long, undoubtedly sloppy but fucking wonderful kiss, Shane thinks he might just be possessed or dreaming or both.

The kiss is a mess of tongues and teeth and Shane's back is dangerously close to cramping and he can't fucking breathe.

And yet, he still dives back for more and an embarrassingly whiny sound founds its way out from the back of his throat when Ryan's fingers tighten in his hair briefly.

They're both trying to catch their breath when they finally pull away and Shane is glad he's not the only one affected.

The sight of Ryan's flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips, not to mention how dark his eyes appear to be even in the shitty lighting of the hallway.

That sight alone almost gets him to start kissing Ryan again but Shane can muster up some sort of self-control eventually.

Another make out session might be what they want right now, but it's most certainly not what they need.

The kiss doesn't get talked about, not even when they arrive back at their shared hotel room and take their respective showers to wash off the grime of the ancient building.

They exchange nothing more but quiet words about Unsolved, the shoot, about Watcher. Shane glances over at Ryan, watches him text their friends, and then stare at his chest camera — now discarded on top of Ryan's suitcase — like it personally offended him.

"Are you thinking about looking at the footage?" Shane asks, and Ryan is seemingly grateful he didn't have to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"Yeah, maybe," Ryan hums and then looks away with a sigh, right at Shane, unfortunately. Shane squirms under his gaze, slightly, but probably just enough for Ryan to notice. "I don't want to deal with it right now. I'm exhausted, this was just too much for today.

Shane only lets out a little noise of agreement, and he wonders if what they had done was too much, if Ryan has meant to include that also.

"Do you want to, maybe...?" Ryan trails off, nodding towards his bed and probably hoping that Shane will get what he means.

And well, Shane can be infuriatingly oblivious, but this, he understands. His mouth feels paper dry when he speaks. "Yeah, sure."

He stands, rubbing a hand down his face because he doesn't know what to do with them otherwise. He's already dressed in his pajamas — they both are, actually — soft sweatpants and worn-out cotton shirts; so it's not difficult to grab his pillow and climb into Ryan's bed, right next to him.

And that's when trouble begins because Ryan is taking his shirt off and Shane's heart surges so hard in his chest he almost thinks it will fall right out. Is it not enough to have to sleep with the possibly not-so-unrequited love of his life, but he has to be shirtless too?

Shane got cursed by whatever was or wasn't at that damn place he's sure of it.

"Uhh, if you mind I can put it back on," Ryan tells him because Shane had been staring like it's nobody's business.

"No, no you're fine. I mean it's fine." Shane chokes out and he's a little bit mad at himself for getting so flustered when it comes to guys he thinks are cute. Especially when it's Ryan.

Luckily, Ryan laughs, and even if it's kind of annoying, Shane happily takes that over the awkwardness.

Shane speaks, quietly, after they turned the lights off, and got under the covers. The bed is fairly small, so Shane really had to huddle more close to Ryan than what they would've been comfortable with years ago.

"For the record, I don't think you're crazy."

"Well, that's good to know." Ryan laughs softly, but there is an uncomfortable undertone to it and Shane doesn't like it one bit.

"I'm serious, Ryan. I might not have the opinion it was a ghost, but you know I'd never think you're crazy. And if you think I would, well— I'm a shitty friend then, and I'm sorry about that."

"No, you're not, Shane. I think I'm just insecure. It's a whole other issue." Ryan admits and Shane is too curious for his own good.

"What other issue?"

"Do you think we should talk about what happened in the prison?" Ryan asks instead, not even being subtle about changing the subject and Shane decides to let it go for now.

"The kiss?"

"No, the fucking ghost— yeah the kiss, dude!" Ryan scoffs, and Shane has no brain to mouth filter apparently.

"It wasn't a ghost—"

"Shane, don't fucking start this again I swear—"

"Look I'm just saying—"

"Shut up, Shane!" Ryan wheezes, because they keep talking over each other and they're being so stupid. Shane wheezes with him and he suddenly feels like being bold. It's dark and Ryan can't see him too well, so fuck it.

"Shut me up then."

There is a beat of silence and then the rustling of sheets as Ryan is sliding closer to press his mouth hotly over Shane's again. Shane's hands find their way up on Ryan's back and there is a slight tremble to the movement when Ryan swipes his tongue over his. Shane is almost dizzy with it all, the available skin he's allowed to touch now, the smell of Ryan's shower gel. He almost feels like he's dreaming.

"We really should be talking about this," Ryan murmurs muffled by Shane's lips, minutes or hours later, none of them truly know at this point.

"S'fine, nothing to talk about." Shane rasps, trying to tug him back into another mind-melting kiss but Ryan snorts against his lips and it should be a little gross but Shane adores him too much to care.

"Shane, come on, we gotta. We're adults." Ryan reasons and nips at Shane's chin as he kisses his way down from his lips.

"Fuck being an adult," Shane scoffs but pulls away just enough to take in Ryan's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. And that smile, the sunshine smile Shane loves the most.

"Hard same but seriously. Is this just a hookup? What are we doing?" Ryan asks sheepishly and he looks so open, Shane wants to hide, to avoid being as open as Ryan is with him. Because ghosts might not spook him, but emotional vulnerability sure fucking does.

He has nowhere to hide though, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe if he throws all caution to the wind, things might turn out okay. He does it all the time, he did it when he agreed to do Unsolved with Ryan, and he did it when they were making Watcher.

"I really like you, Ryan. I don't know how not to sound like a teenager when I say this, but— well it's true." Shane says eventually, forcing himself to keep eye contact as his hold tightens in the fabric of Ryan's shirt. This is just about the most difficult thing he's ever done and look at him, he's powering through it like a champ.

"How about breaking the rules we established in the podcast and say I love you? What do you say to that, big guy?" Ryan suggests, softly, and Shane gladly watches the fear and anxiety dissolve from his eyes when he answers. They're both taking leaps of fate today it seems like.

"Fuck the rules, also."

Shane flips them over, making Ryan laugh and let out an exaggerated oof sound and then he's kissing Ryan again, Shane murmuring I love you back against Ryan's lips.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #fanfictions #prompt fill #prompt #i wanted to answer this as an ask but i broke it with the read more #thanks tumblr #trashy-artist-here

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rwmhunt · 3 years

Text

Leviticus, Chapter 23

1. Substitute day, and a return unto A sender of something, as to another place, That hasn't the wherewithal to get there either; I will open it again and learn That which is already known to be such As isn't so much.

2. And it's not mine, but a, And is the right way round. For as I set the seasons, I reprise, reply, replay; It's substitution day.

3. And Sabbath is the seventh, Whence the lord, in all thy dwellings, Is up for doing nothing; Or Sabbath is the sixth; I don't care.

4. And welcome to my channel, It's great to have each of you still with me- A man who speaks of people By their purpose, Himself as his own singer, With- such are the seasons, Even, holy convocations, For want to be sure of a constant, It's Senhal, An obscure term For an old friend.

5. Love, love, lo, this is not Of a cloven love, Leviticus, I will speak of it Unto sundry strangers and neighbours, As just one more month's dusk Then it'll be passover, Not once. Not twice, Not once. Love. So we can still imagine a time When all of this will go again;

6. But a day will approach When, if there is something That can look back, Could think that 'here' and 'then' Are really very close;- And I wonder if they saw The strings of direct attachment, Lining their behaviours; Just flour and water, But I don't think so; Still, anytime was closer to history than this one, So what do I know?

7. If I were to put the onus On to the impossible, Then what was light-hearted and playful, Would be wont to become ridden and surly; Lord, being an influencer is a serious endeavour, For how many unsuccessful oblations are there That are out there? Lo, state your appreciation; Don’t just wing it. Plan it out in kalends, Of which are reckon'd to be backwards; so, To start, do nothing.

8. After a week, Let's go- Gift your influencers' grift, For, when you so do this, It strokes the ego of the flames, Who then add unto the savour of sacrifice, Thus, get me it up; Make it smolder, Then, use its fatal nature To activate the future.

9. And simple: These are nacks, To muster control Over gods; Are junk and have been; That we all have interest vested- Let ignorance of it control Hereafter, same, so anon and amen.

10. Crowdsplain- First fruit the priest Hard and long, Find the tunnels, Writing what's impossible For the brain to conceive, That it may then be read back of, To supplant and supersede; So become possible.

11. And thither, the Wheatchief Will wave the sheaf Tomorrow- See how it goes? Ol' Cathode Ray, and Non-mathmatical aesthetic identities, The spirit of the radio take her.

12. That once the sheaf And all the while Be specific unto thy niche- Nativize unto thy platform, For, the experience shall follow The rhyzome's swerve and function, So that the user-expectation be wrought From whence the contents be placed- In this case, Add in a lamb shank ponzi scheme to my platform; Smells wonderful.

13. So unto the titular character, Exerting such low level leverage as Begetteth me of an ephah cake, And a quarter hin of wine; I don't need the free stuff, I am a successful influencer, But shouldst you want me to advertise for suckers On my platform that I have built myself for free; Well, we're all getting along so good.

14. Then it's me first, And simple: see- That our boldest endeavours, And most exciting adventures- They have not yet even begun; That, in spite of all the detritus, In the teeth of all that we've done, my boys, I tell you: The best Is yet To come.

15. Then, 49 days later, Seek whence Thought might come in sequence, And I'm really so blessed and thankful to you all for being here; So, as thought comes in sequence And thus, it wasn't known where We are going here as we begun. O tensions, retensions- I use to used to run.

16. Know, influencers, I am the hype; So on-brand that I can give unto you, And through you, the trick- Pyramid that still stands For the thousands- Round it up; So nice.

17. And, super relevant- Optimize continuously, also, Compensate me handsomely; while Sacrifice may seem like a quick-success marketing strategy, It isn’t so. Such are the things that keep not happening; More food please.

18. Lots more, This is why the burden of proof for rhetorical claim Shall falleth shortly As among the Open Wounde who should maketh of such a claim; It is not upon the world to provide him a fallacy, But he, who's to prove the world its truth; which, Across all channels, He, rerewise, hath been completely unable to do.

19. So suffer him his own precarity; And then some; Think back to when, Twirrup twipip,-pwiwip, Suwee, psu, swoo swsoo, So sweepeth they in song, As we, quiet, Through our blossom comedown, That hideth our tiny singers, And the bulgence behind the wiltage, In the verges, Be of burgeoning seed.

20. And everyone wave; All this- so good as is it to be; And though under a hail Of black tormentors, Our torment, And through its over-drone, With no one remembering it happening, But, who'll remember the photograph?

21. Sit back; You've lost everything, So lo, olah, you remember how mother died- Bringing cow parsley into the tent of meaning; For she went by the umbels as we'd walked on the plain, And they had reminded her of those lace cushions That her ladies-in-waiting had carried, And so gave them the name.

22. Embassadors, Leave thy corners to disillusion; A true influencer ideally keeps doing What they genuinely gain of a passion for. They know their value and their need is not to shew it, So spend a lot of time reading news and sharing opinions with others online. By buying-up dozens of potential plots, They help to plot the exodus to less, And stake an astronaut over the shape of a woman. But politics isn’t about the weird worship of one dude, So his words became their actions.

23. Is it worth your time To try and ignore that, if, What you are listening to Is the most effective form of advertising- A babbling of a technique That hath impostulated language, Then, should things go well, We may even be able to rend a cross-paracleation With phantom trust-collaborators, Interested in guest-posting for backlinks and exposure, Thus, marrying into micro-influencers, And so tap into our y.

24. But be consistent: For my favourite casts come out the same- Here, crowdplain how a seventh month is a Sound the trumpet month; See how it goes? Lo, but half of me struggles with the whimsy Of the other side that's yet so entranced; No, I'm not sure why, it's just the way I feel.

25. Down tools, more please. Gnaw your own head off. All things positivity- and It is always negotiation; Not: You bring it to the tabernacle, I sing- There is no shortness of spirit In opinion To be cut down. Equal positives, so unto Those things that keep not happening.

26. There are voices you hear of, As quoted as begetters of insightful opinion, Who art themselves never made extant, Being only reported hereto as sources, And lo, that they are the influencers. And I'm super curious as to know what you guys think; Please be sure to leave your comments amid the margins.

27. Thence, afflict thy souls, For, tis atonement day- We're ten into the seventh, And the snap's back when I was An offensive lineman, And the pass sent over- The big lie, long, long to the long deceiver, Ah, burnt offerings- How original, Best look unto the analytics, And if they give you not access there unto , Verily, you are going to have to fight, Fight as peaceful as Sheol, Down, deep down and dirty- I'm not going to call it off.

28. Down tools; Atone to the dial tone, No one calls; Let Ladder Capital Createth of the sponsored post- Like many on the medium, To use an ode- I used to play the role; To laugh and laugh; Laugh til I despised all there was to laugh at, And then I stopped, And in the silence, saw what I had done.

29. But laughing is not so bad.

We've been a good wee band. Yes we have. No one is coming after us. And if you're alright, mack, You'll get cut off.

30. So workers got destroyed That day, And Aaron was frustrated, And livid. Reach round; Feel thy spine. The way people stop you From being helpful When you are helpful, So that you cannot be helpful, So that they can cut you From your people.

31. Tardiness in perpetuity, Aye, today, it is Yplangenday- Well, I'll have to put myself Through some more adamantine Paces than god allows, else I'll never get enough done.

32. And be bold, For, you'll need to deracinate; Chancers are toxic vocations Within the tent of meaning; It's content; it's all content- Divide and game, so- Focus and grow. I mean to make sure That you are a consistent- Start of the ninth evening , End of the next.

33. God doesn't eat though, That I can see- For all that we give him, God doesn't eat.

34. Crowd, 15/7, and tabernacle feast week; Still his words became their actions, Shrill, until the doctrine of laches, When the searched-after Faithless elector went libertarian, Like many on the medium, Clade unto such bolled and novel obstacles What stretched where chance was slim, And slim was still in quarantine.

35. To start again, down tools, For, lo, if you want to be in a prison camp, You needst allow yourself the luxury Of being stupid enough to get captured.

36. Sacrifice? Spluttereth the LORD: But I'm fed up with so much burnt rubbish, I wish for forced fresh rhubarb, So shunt and jive; I've Optimized, and optimize continuously.

37. Drinks break; take life indicting, Gratify all at a local craven hire scheme, Go abroad singing, so merrylike, To slough off the whole As one enormous rhyzome. Deus Hic! God is drunk! I heard that, Brian Leg-Coverall.

38. O well done Jehus, And good to be with you, Yes you, Who are good in a crisis; A reminder- I'm working with mischief.

39. Wait, rest again, To live is to live through An embarrassment of times, Damarkated as meaningful riches, That will not be well remembered. Really, I am so blessed.

40. But try to ask of a question; So that thy congregation Might make communion in answer, See how it goes? Say, But why, isn't it A bit like palm sunday? The stream changeth its name As it passeth through each neighbourhood. I knew it as; Well it doesn't matter- You're not reposting, nor liking my banal repartee, So, unfollow.

41. And it goes; for I have giv'n unto them a scapegoat, But they cast it not out; So shall there be a reaving that will follow, and Themselves, they shall be cut off from.

42. Then all ye home-born booth dwellers In dwelling booths, Shall dwell in booths seven days and know That you are living in the rhyzome..

43. And everyone will know that I made you do this- The old booth dwellers, needing my rescue out of Egypt, So weakened, the Open Wounde stayeth open; And remember to tell us what you think, Way down, deep down, down in the margins.

44. And Mose went about with the crowdsplaining Old loud-haler; A simple fellow out of storybook glen, From the tent of meaning, From the twilight men, He ran and told- And the thing is, They were too clever To not know what they were doing- So the target becomes bios; Is the common psychle, The answer- How would you like it? Is - 'I didn't'. And that therein has a hold and salience, As before tends to be the best time to regret- It is a kind of nonsense. I'm so merry

I'm so merry and sad.

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omega-deku · 5 years

Note

So I would love to progress on my art and try comics any tips? ÙwÚ

Hi! I’m so sorry about the late reply. D: I hope you don’t mind if I take this opportunity to address all the anon messages about how we can improve as artists.

I have a tough time answering this question because there is so much I need to learn. I’m super flattered that some of you feel that my art is good enough to ask me for tips, first of all!! So thank you, guys.

It’s a struggle because I only recently started taking up art again. So I’ve forgotten a lot of the things. So I’m probably not the best person to ask about this.

I used to draw all the time as a kid, but after high school, I stopped drawing. I stopped drawing for almost a decade, pretty much. I really regret it. I feel like I could have come such a long way if I did keep going. My parents really discouraged me from pursuing art, even just as a hobby, too. Even when I left home (I’m back now tho), my ex-spouse, greatly discouraged me from doing art too. I mean, “proper” art. They told me my art wasn’t “real art” because it’s not studio art, it’s “sellout” art, like anime/cartoons/fanart. I had even worse self-esteem as I do now, and I listened to them and gave up. I convinced myself I hated drawing.

Please don’t deny yourself things that make you feel engaged and connected. If drawing makes you feel good, if it makes you not realize how much time has passed and makes you feel like you’re accomplishing things, even little by little, please don’t stop. Even if you suffer from depression and feel like things like this are pointless, remember that just doing things in general will help you. Drawing is an awesome way to get into the flow state. To me personally, it’s almost like a meditative state and I find it helpful in dealing with chronic pain and mental health issues.

Anyways, I’ll try to compile some advice sort of things.

ART IN GENERAL

1. Draw what you enjoy! I think the most important thing is to draw what you like. It’s okay if it’s “dumb stuff”. Draw your favorite characters or pairings from your favorite tv shows if that tickles your fancy! You’re much more likely to be spending more time drawing if you’re drawing stuff you like. And as long as you’re drawing, you’re improving. (But still, challenge yourself and get out of your comfort zone!)

Especially for those of you who are planning to pursue art as a career, it’s essential that you don’t view practicing art as a chore.

2. Draw from life. If you really want to take your art to the next level, drawing from life is vital! I think many of us have come across artists who are just amazing, but there are things that look a little “off”. For example, the anatomy doesn’t look quite right, or the perspective is a little wonky. Things like that can be a tell that they’ve learned to draw from other people’s art rather than from life. Or just haven’t practiced the basics enough. (My art isn’t amazing or anything close to that lmao, but it definitely suffers from this. I need lots of life drawing practice.)

There is nothing wrong with learning from your favorite artists, but to really train your “artist’s eye”, you need to strip away all the stylistic choices and go back to the basics. Training that Eye is one of the most crucial things you could do as an artist.

Just take a piece of paper, a pencil and start drawing what you see. If you can, take figure drawing classes at your local community college, or draw the animals you see at the zoo. Sit on a bench and draw the scenery in front of you. Over time, you’ll start to recognize common patterns, simplify/think of things in terms of lines and shapes.

If you can’t afford a class or have the ability to go outside easily, drawing from photographs can be the next best thing. (See the Resources below for an online figure drawing tool.) I’m not experienced enough to definitively say why this isn’t the #1 idea, but from what I hear, there are things that you’ll miss out on, such as subtle shifts in shadows, colors, and other things that will happen from small movements in pose changes, a cloud moving, or whatever else. A different “feel”, if you will.

With the digital art boom, a lot of artists are learning how to do cool digital effects and fancy things, but forgoing basic anatomy, perspective, shading, etc. Which is all fine if you’re just having fun, but isn’t the best idea if you’re really serious about improving. Practice the fundamentals!

(If you have been dreaming about CalArts at one point like I did when I was in high school, one advice I came across from everyone who went there was to draw from life. All the time. It’s not an answer I expected from people who draw funny looking characters all day. You mean all these people who draw such simplified cartoon people and animals can actually draw like masters? Perfectly rendered bowls of fruit? I didn’t realize how much work goes into animating simple characters.)

3. Put in the time.

It’s really easy to get suckered into just watching “how to improve” videos all day and thinking about improving. Watching how other artists work is an important learning tool, but you’ll never actually make progress if you aren’t practicing.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to not think about it. Just do it.

It’s like when I’m spending a whole lotta time thinking about getting physically fit than just, you know.. just doing it. “Tomorrow for sure.”

It may seem like it’s worthless, but doing those lame 5 push-ups a day instead of the 20-minute workout you wanted to put in, is better than nothing at all. You are making progress, no matter how small it may seem.

Make it a habit to practice every day. That way, you don’t even hesitate. It’s as automatic as brushing your teeth.

All the artists you see who have fantastic, awe-inspiring art may seem like Unreachable Gods sometimes, but those artists didn’t just pull that out of their ass one day. They put in hours and hours and hours of work. Let’s not disrespect other artists by ignoring that and chalking it up to “talent”. No one is born with an innate ability to draw. WE can get there too if we practice!

I want to get good enough to draw the things I have in my head one day!

Some resources that may be helpful:

Draw a Box - This is a site for free lessons for absolute beginners. Look under “Lessons” to learn. The creator of the site is the mod for r/ArtFundamentals. You can post your work there to get critiqued.

Check out Proko’s videos on gesture drawing, art fundamentals, etc. Daily routines of successful artists.

Use this site to practice figure drawing, gesture drawing - Set aside some time to practice drawing people and animals every day. Start trying to see things as lines, shapes, and go big. Don’t get too caught up in the details, and tiny drawings. Learning to draw fast (not draw FAST as in speed, but as in capture the gesture in a post, the “feel” of the movement) will force you to do this more, and with more experience, make your figures less stiff looking.

And it’s okay if you’re aren’t good at it. You’ll make loads and loads of shit drawings until you can get decent.

I’m most definitely in this stage right now, trying to train my Artist’s Eye. As in, I can’t just draw a figure from memory. I don’t really know what goes where without a reference, or how they move, etc. You can tell by how stiff my drawings look.

Lulusketches How to Improve video - She has similar advice, but her point about looking at “Art of” books something I have come across from multiple professional artists; Her advice on worrying about finding your own “style” is really good too. Do challenges like she said!

Her playlist of art tutorials & advice is great. They’re short and sweet. Her beginner digital art tutorial got me started on digital art (the one with Ginny Weasley).

Not free ($30 a month), but these online Schoolism classes look helpful. It’s run by Bobbie Chiu. I saw some great reviews and I want to try them someday. They’re taught by artists in the animation/film industry. But you gotta have a basic grasp on digital art/photoshop for many of the classes, I think? I’m not 100% sure. They’re pre-recorded video lessons.

You can pay more for feedback from the teachers, but you can also just use it as a self-learning guide.

This drawing faces from any angle video was pretty helpful for me. The artist has loads of other tutorials.

COMICS

I don’t feel qualified enough to give much advice on comics. I mean, I don’t even draw the lines for the boxes, haha.. However, these comic books are basically required reading for some courses:

Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics & Making Comics.

I can’t remember which one it is that I read, I think it was Making Comics? But wow, if I remember correctly, it was FULL of really useful things about how to make effective comics. I lost the book while moving years ago, but it was FANTASTIC learning material. I loved every panel of it.

He talks about everything from perspective, placement of characters, speech bubbles, how big panels should be, etc.

If you can afford it, get a used one and start reading! Even if you don’t want to make comics just yet, it’s super interesting.

#art #comics #art reference #art resources #asks #text #okay i fixed some of the links now #added better stuff

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kusunogatari · 4 years

Text

[ ObiRyū October | Day One | Shining Armor ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ]

[ Previous || Next ]

It all comes down to this.

Checking and double checking his gear, Obito can’t help a worried sigh. For weeks he’s been considering giving a new hobby a try, and even before then he’d started saving for something to do. He stumbled across a possible activity completely by accident when making a detour home one day from work. In a park he’d never visited was a group of twenty or so people - adults, mind you - doing what looked to be some kind of...really involved make-believe.

A little research revealed it to be called LARPing. Live-action roleplaying. Like taking one of his favorite fantasy videogames or a tabletop campaign, and making it as close to real as one can really get: literally acting it out, in real time, with real people. Dressed up as their characters and everything!

He was hooked.

Hours of research later, he’d gotten started: crafting his outfit, weapons, supplies, and a character to play. A barbarian warrior...something he thought suited his build, and his appearance.

No real need to explain his scars, that way.

It took a while to build up the nerve, but he finally approached one day and asked about how to join. Most events were just day-long ones as opposed to full weekends, he’d learned. And an entry fee helped cover a few costs like extra props, costumes, and even food for the players over the course of the day. Fifty bucks and he could hop in.

He hadn’t done so right away, still fiddling with all the details of his character. He wanted it to be perfect…! But eventually there was nothing left to procrastinate, so...he packed up his gear and headed out.

And now here he is, standing with a few other newcomers. Thankfully his underclothes were normal enough to walk here in, and he starts strapping on armor he’d made. It’s nothing too fancy, but he managed to get some metallic paint to make it look like real steel. Overall, for his first go of it? He’d say he’s done well. There will always be time to improve as he goes, right?

It’s a high fantasy setting, as he’s learned. Elves, magic, that sort of stuff. Pretty typical, as far as he’s read. And while he’s set to be a moldable, playable character, so too are there those who play more static roles for the players to interact with...as well as those helping to craft the stories. Each only takes six to eight hours, as not to drag on past each day gathering. But some end up interconnected. Today, it seems, given all the new faces, they’re starting a new event.

The main coordinator and storyteller gathers the characters together to give a brief overview, as well as introduce the NPCs before they start. But once it begins, there’s no breaking character. Hours of being someone else for a day - no longer is he Obito, but Garver the Crushing, complete with a mace and shield he found tutorials for online.

With the plot set, everyone disperses, taking their places and readying for the game to begin. Obito, along with a few others, start by browsing the “town” to gather supplies for an upcoming battle set to take place. His character doesn’t know any magic...but he can certainly use things like throwable weapons, and potions to ensure he doesn’t get taken down too easily.

But the NPC selling potions is swarmed first, so he idles around for a bit, browsing a selection of weapons available for gold...or in this case, real-world quarters used in place of anything too fancy. In the end he picks up a dagger, not wanting to eat into his character’s savings too much.

He then finds the potion “shop” empty of other patrons, and shyly makes his way forward.

Right away he can tell, this one’s a pro. Not only does she have a good array of props, but her outfit looks entirely legit. Within an actual period-appropriate tent are few shelves, complete with a banner: White Dragon Remedies, it proclaims. Bottles filled with shimmering liquid are made of a squishy, clear material to prevent any breaks. She also has some “enchanted” clothing: more glittering fabric to indicate their magical properties.

Turning to face him, she reveals more of her outfit. While her actual dress is a rather plain dark grey, it’s her cloak that makes his jaw drop comically. White with silver embroidery work, it’s a piece of art in and of itself. It sweeps the grass, a wide hood draped over her head, still revealing her fake (but very convincing) elven ears.

Her eyes are a light grey, almost white to match her colorless locks. Even her brows and lashes are white! He wonders if it’s makeup and a wig, or if this is how she actually looks.

“Greetings, traveler,” she offers with a smile that makes his chest clench. “Are you in need of my brews…? Or perhaps something laced with magic to protect you?”

Still a bit shell shocked, Obito flounders for a moment like a fish out of water. Clearly she’s a long-standing player to be this prepared and decked out. “Uh, I...y-yeah. Um…”

As he stutters, she can’t help a glint of amusement in her eyes he’s pretty sure isn’t in-character - she’s actually having to hold back a laugh, he can tell. “I have a wide variety of wares,” she offers, clearly trying to help him regain his head. “Potions of healing, articles of protection, and even scrolls of contained spells for those unable to cast enchantments themselves. All highly valuable on the battlefield for a warrior such as yourself. Is there anything specific you’re looking for…?”

Trying to delve back into his character, Obito looks around. What would Garver like to take with him…? “I’ll take healing potions, at any rate. What do they cost?”

“I’ve one that can heal a minor wound, and one for a more...serious injury. The former is ten gold, and the latter twenty.”

Ooh, he...won’t be able to get too many. His ears turn red in embarrassment at his both in- and out-of-character poverty. Weighing his coin pouch, teeth nibble the scar along his lip in thought.

“I also have garments that help reduce damage taken. More costly, but also more effective over time. You’ll need fewer potions for as long as you have it, my lord.”

“Oh, I’m no lord,” Obito quickly refutes. Garver is a simple mercenary, after all.

“Any patron of mine receives my respect,” is her polite rebuke. Reaching for a verdant scarf, she holds it aloft for him to look at. “This will halve any damage you take. A robust enchantment indeed.”

Something about it catches his eye. “...and the cost?”

“Fifty gold is all. And, since you’re a new face in town, I’ll throw in a lesser potion of health for good measure, no extra charge.”

“But -?”

“Dark times lie ahead, traveler. We must all be cautious. And you’ll need to survive them to visit me again when you’ve more coin to spend, hm?” She winks an eye, and his chest flutters again. “Consider it an investment in your well-being. And perhaps mine, if you ever return.”

Blinking at her, Obito then looks down at the scarf. It does sound like a pretty good deal… “...I’ll take it.”

“Excellent!” Folding the scarf as he counts out his quarters, she fetches one of the blue sparkling potions. “I wish you luck, traveler. May fortunate winds blow at your back.”

“A-and you,” he stutters in reply. “...thank you.”

“Save your thanks for when that scarf saves your life, stranger.”

“...Garver.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I - my name, it...it’s Garver.”

Her expression brightens. “Ah! A pleasure, lord Garver. I am Wyria of the White Dragon. I hope our paths will cross again sometime.”

Not sure how to reply, Obito just gives a sheepish nod before retreating. Nearby, another male player seems to evaluate his gear.

“Well met,” he offers, nodding to Obito in greeting.

“Hello.”

“Been to stock up on potions, have you?”

“Er...yeah. Yes. I...can’t afford much.”

“A mercenary’s life is spent in constant search of coin, eh? You must spend it to make it.”

The corner of Obito’s mouth twitches. This interaction seems a lot...easier. “True enough. Though just once I’d like to get ahead.”

“All it takes is one lucky break! And just one unlucky one to have it all come to a screeching halt. We walk a blade’s edge, my friend.” Holding out a hand, he offers, “Irkvar.”

“Garver,” Obito replies, shaking it.

“So...what think you of the potion seller?”

“What do I...think?”

The other man grins. “A beauty, isn’t she? Not often you see elves this far north. They seem to prefer the warmer climates. But she keeps us all stocked and alive.”

Before he can stop it, Obito’s brow furrows. “...seems we’re lucky to have her, then.”

“Indeed.” Glancing around, the man then leans in and whispers, breaking character for a moment. “She’s a professional cosplayer. Goes to cons and makes big bucks with photos and shit. She’s huge on Instagram, too. All-natural hottie - no wig or anything, that’s just how she looks. Makes her super popular if the cosplay fits well. Wouldn’t mind getting to know her better but she tends to ghost once the events are done.”

At the rather...objectifying language, Obito scowls. “Can’t imagine why,” he mutters sarcastically.

But his tone seems lost on his companion, who then slides back into character. Yet even as the idle speech drags on, Obito can’t help but remain annoyed with the guy.

What an ass.

Once the prologue is completed and the characters found to be ready for the next phase, Obito manages to evade his new “friend” and immerse himself more into the story. The city has received word of an impending attack...and he has a choice to make. Stay and fight for the city, and receive less gold...or betray them and join the attacking force, which has more gold to spare.

Thinking of the goods he could acquire with some extra spending money, Obito nonetheless finds himself tugged toward the moral high ground. So after some debate, he decides to remain in the city. A few more darker-aligned characters actually swap, and he finds himself preparing to face them.

It’s them, or him.

Hours pass as skirmishes start and stop. Strategies are laid out, twists in the story guided by the NPCs. Obito, scarf around his neck, manages to keep his character alive, relying on his single potion as the battle seems to wane.

But then the boss appears...and he realizes he’s made a grave mistake. There’s no way he’s going to make it with no more potions! He could do the cowardly thing and run, but -?

“I cast Wall of Spectral Light!”

Jolting, he turns to see the potion seller. A hard glint is in her eyes, staring at the boss with a snarl.

Seems she’s decided to work to protect her home.

The narrator calls out the spell’s effects, proclaiming that her actions help protect a section of the defending army...including Obito. No damage is taken, but the barrier can only repel so much damage. From a belt at her waist, she begins tossing extra potions to the players.

“I’ve no gold,” Obito replies.

“We’ll settle any debts later, should we live through this,” she replies, looking to him gravely.

For a moment, Obito forgets this is all a game. He meets her desperate gaze with one of his own, and there’s a sort of...spark.

But they don’t have much time to chat.

The battle rages on, player characters calling out spells as Wyria and other NPCs lend scripted hands. And just as the sun starts setting, someone lands the final blow...and the boss collapses, dead.

A chorus of triumphant cries echo out over the park, and characters celebrate, embracing and beating chests. Obito sags in relief. In truth...he’s exhausted. More so than a day at work!

And as the cheering goes on, it’s joined by children who had stopped to watch, Obito sheepishly waving to them and earning more excitement. Seems they’re convinced this is all real: the joys of childish imagination.

Looking just as tired as the rest of them, the NPCs offer their congratulations to their heroes. And Wyria greets Obito, much to his surprise.

“So, seems that scarf served you well, Garver,” she offers with a wry grin. “I think you can properly thank me, now.”

“It did...as did your potions. I owe you more than just gold - I owe you my life.”

“You and a few others,” she replies cheekily. “But all debts will be settled in time. I’m sure I have a job or two you can do for me sometime.”

Grinning tiredly, Obito watches her for a moment before everyone is gathered for a final celebration in the town. As it begins to wind down, the storyteller declares the event over, and everyone is allowed to break character at last.

Sighing in relief - yet wholly satisfied with his Saturday - Obito glances around. It’s then he realizes he didn’t see Wyria in the party, and indeed she’s instead been packing up.

Seems the man from before is right - she doesn’t waste any time. It wilts his expression, as he’s pretty sure he understands why. Keeping his helmet tucked under his arm, he sheepishly approaches. “...need any help?”

At his voice, she spins around, eyes wide, still dressed in her attire. But she softens as she recognizes him. “Ah, sorry...I thought you were, uh...nevermind.”

“I think I know who you mean,” Obito assures her. “So I thought I’d lend a hand, if...you want it.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

They finish dismantling her setup, which Obito compliments. “This must’ve taken a lot of time.”

“And money,” she assures him dryly. “But...I love it. It’s been worth every dollar and hour. I love acting and dressing up, so...it only makes sense. I was one of the people who helped set up the LARP group here.”

“Really?”

“Mhm! Right out of high school. It was really small and...cheap at first. But we’ve grown a lot over the years. We even put on shows for schools sometimes. Which helps earn more money to keep the group going.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Maybe you’ll join us for one?”

“Eh…” At that, he hesitates. “...maybe. I’m still, uh...new. And…” He gestures to his face, wilting. “...not sure I’d be good around kids.”

“They seemed to love it before. And they’ll just believe it’s part of your character. Are…?” It’s her turn to pause. “So...those are real?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. The hair and stuff, I mean.” Her eyes roll. “Used to get me bullied, but I do pretty well thanks to it now.”

“Someone mentioned you cosplay professionally…?”

“Mhm. It’s not a full gig, I still work. But it helps. And it’s a lot of fun, when...people aren’t being jerks.”

Obito sours. “Yeah...I caught a whiff of that earlier. I’m sorry.”

“It comes with the territory. Just...wish that it didn’t.” After a pause, a box of stuff in her arms, she offers, “I...just realized I never introduced myself! My...real self, that is. I’m Ryū.”

“Obito.”

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for the help.”

Helping her load the last boxes into her car, Obito can’t help but ask, “So...do you always play an NPC?”

“I do. As much as a character is fun, I enjoy being part of the structure. And since I’m one of the founders, I feel more...set in stone that way. I play Wyria every time. So I’m almost like a playable character, just...set to a script. I’m the same person for every story, but I enjoy it a lot. I feel like a piece of the foundation that way.”

“I think I understand.”

Closing the car door, she gives him another look. “Thanks for helping me pack up. And…” She glances past him for a moment, and his head tilts. “...for helping ward anyone else off.”

Obito nearly turns to look, but brightens in understanding. “...oh! Yeah, sure. Any time.”

“So, will you be back next weekend?”

“Er...maybe.” He itches his neck guiltily. “The, uh...ticket price is a little steep for me.”

“Yeah, it can be. Very few people come every week. Mostly it’s every other, or once a month. It keeps the group fluid, though. A different pool every time.” Ryū gives a smile. “But it’ll be cool to see you again. You did really well for a first timer!”

Obito feels himself get warm at the compliment. “Y-yeah?”

She nods. “Did you do any theater in high school?”

“A little, yeah.”

“That helps. And it only gets easier the more you do it. I’m sure Garver will be a staple pretty soon. And Wyria will always be happy to sell him some potions...for the right price.”

Smiling bashfully, Obito then stiffens. “Oh -!” He reaches up and takes off the scarf. “Here, I -”

“No, that’s yours.”

“...but -?”

“You bought it in-game, so it belongs to Garver.” She waves a hand. “I get material and stuff pretty cheap, don’t worry about it. And players trade things back in for upgraded stuff, so it usually cycles back. Just don’t lose it, okay?”

“Oh...well, thanks.”

She just smiles in reply. “Well, I guess I’ll see you whenever you can make it back in! Take care, Obito.”

“Yeah, you too.” He steps aside, letting her pull away from the park’s lot in the dusk of evening.

He needs to get home, too...it’ll be dark by the time he gets back. Stripping off his gear and putting it back into his duffle bag, Obito smiles to himself. It was a really good day…! Better than he’d feared. And maybe he’s even making a new friend, both in and out of character. Sadly his low wages mean it might be a while before he can come back, but...well, it’ll be worth the wait.

Replaying it all in his mind, he starts back toward home, unable to help but linger on the scenes with Garver and Wyria. Partly he feels bad - he doesn’t want to be like Irkvar. But, well...her character is interesting! And Garver just...enjoyed her. That’s all.

...that’s all.

Aw yisss, we’re back with another ObiRyū October, y’all! And the first piece is set in a modern verse with some LARPing, cuz...Obito is a canon professional LARPer, after all xD And the prompt just fit too well, I couldn’t not do it lol I have a few buffer days built up JUST in case I fall behind (as I...always do), but I’ll still be writing to try and keep up. Otherwise, as per usual, I’ll be doing my best to post once a day through the whole month in celebration of my OTP! So on that note...I better start working on more xD Thanks for reading!

#obiryū october #abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #best years of your life [ au ]

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sugaxjpg · 5 years

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02 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 8,048

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! Before anything else, Laura and I would like to thank you all for the overwhelming support we’ve received for part one. We are beyond thrilled that you guys are liking this series as much as we are!! Without further ado, let’s get down to business (to defend the huns).

“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this, you hear me?” you screamed against the phone for the third time in less than ten seconds. A high-pitched ding indicated the audio had been sent, and that was your signal to toss the device aside. Jungkook would not listen to it, like he had not listened to the other ten voice messages you had blessed his chatroom with.

The last message you had received from him had been short and dry, more of a user’s guide than a text. It exhibited his advanced SAT vocabulary and his outstanding talent to be concise. Lambda Kappa Pi. 11pm. Say you’re my girl and they’ll get you in. Good luck with the dress.

My girl, as if there was a dimension out of the multiverse you had been thrown into in which you would say such nonsense. My girl, your brain echoed, this time in his voice, that you imagined would be hoarse and whiny during sex. No, no, that was not an image you wanted in your mind.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook’s girl,” you spoke as you imagined yourself babbling at the entrance of the frat house, clad in that skin-tight little red dress. Imagination is a very powerful weapon to use against oneself, and it immediately transfigured you into a Legally Blonde character, one of the sweethearts from Delta Nu but with no rich daddy, no fake tanning, and no equilibrium to stand over the sky-challenging high-heels he had sent along with the dress.

You’d look far more like a clown that had just ran away from the circus, that’s for sure.

You clenched your jaw at the absurdity of that idea, ignoring the butterflies that begun dancing in your stomach. His girl. Stupid ass. You would never do something like th—

—Ding!

In a reflex, you practically threw yourself on your bed to reach for your phone, chest bubbling up with the ridiculous excuses that he could have sent back to you. Instead, however, what you were met with was a simple series of condescending texts:

Jungkook’s only neuron said: u’ll look great bby

Jungkook’s only neuron said: im getting heated just thinkin of u in that ;)

You said: You prick

You said: That dress doesn’t even cover my ass properly

Jungkook’s only neuron said: that was what i was hopin for

You groaned out loud as your eyes read his message, mind working faster than the quick progression of your thumbs against the screen — you better be ready for me to ruin you with the favor I have stored up, then, you texted back.

Jungkook’s response arrived all too soon. There was no physical time to toss the phone back onto the bed, to try the diminutive piece of clothing on and see if there was a way your boobs could survive without suffocating. As the notification blared through the speaker, you imagined him, expecting your reply by the phone, biting his nails. In your imagination, he was nervous, at least a bit; but Jungkook and his cohorts did not know nervousness, at least not when confronted to tests of women. They followed all those ludicrous bro-code-or-whatever-they-called-it rules; and making girls wait for their replies was in the book.

“Ruin or be ruined, that’s the world we live in,” you read out loud, trying to find in between the words Jungkook’s personal trademark. Unexpectedly, there was no baby. No typos. No superfluous exhibition of his very pompous personality. Had he asked for help? Perhaps Namjoon, the only one in the frat house with a functional brain. Maybe Yoongi, but it sounded way too contained to his taste.

“Quote your sources next time,” you typed rapidly, grinning all the way. “See you later, bby.”

Now Jungkook’s Only Neuron could type and ruminate over your odd response all he wanted. There would be no more texts until the party — except perhaps a picture or two of you in that dress, blurry and terribly illuminated. The ire of the gods would fall upon him when he tried to zoom in into your boobs only to find pixels. A taste of his own medicine, that was what you called this cruel stratagem.

Now, there were only a limited number of things which could count as social humiliation for you. As mentioned aforetime, failing a ridiculously easy class or exposing your underwear were near the top of the list, alongside some awfully personal experiences, but you never thought there would be something to top all your expectations. Turns out that 90’s movies make a so called “makeover” to be something great and empowering when, in reality, it had to be the spiritual equivalent of intestinal cramps in the middle of a road trip. And yes, you had been through that. No further comment.

Maybe the movie director of your life was sadistic. Maybe that experience was karma for ruining poor Jungkook’s mental health earlier that day. Whatever it was, it was the new number one on your list of social humiliation. You could not claim you hadn’t gotten anything out of that night — but experiences make you grow, right?

You knew you had fucked up the second you walked up to the fraternity house — that stupidly large, greek-like mansion that pulsated under the progression of the awfully loud music — and saw a pair of underwear on the grass, lost amidst a sea of bottles and beer cans. And then a bra. And then an used cond— Jesus Christ! Were those kids acting out Animal Planet? There were limits. There had to be. Goodbye to your long lost purity.

To top it all off, it was cold. Not nice, chilly cold, but winter-is-here kind of Game of Thrones bullshit. The wind was like cold daggers against your skin, piercing your naked legs as you moved closer to the entrance door, benumbing your senses to the fullest extent. Whatever it was that you had in store for Jungkook, it had to be equally torturous to that walk of shame — the night had not even started, and you were already constructing an escape plan.

“Hey,” you said as you stopped in front of two athletes, crossing your arms before your figure — thank God for your common sense, since the leather jacket you wore both covered your insanely tight boobs and gave you a bit of heat. You wouldn’t have started a conversation with them if not absolutely necessary and, in that case, they were blocking the passage. “Excuse me, please.”

One of them turned to you with arched eyebrows, looking you up and down, “You seem familiar,” he mumbled, infecting the atmosphere with a terrible scent of alcohol. To be fair, you thought you knew him too, but did not want to get into friendly terms with any of them. “Whatcha’ doing here?”

Hell, here goes nothing, “Jungkook called me here.”

“Jungkook, who?” The other one — the travel-sized counterpart — laughed, hitting his friend’s shoulder in his drunken haze. “We know no Jungkook.”

They were still blocking the entrance, and you were not in the mood to commence an arrogant dissertation on why they did know the Jungkook you were referring to, and why was their ruse so evident. Shivering inside the leather jacket, you tried to find a way around the words he wanted so desperately to hear. “I am his friend,” you said.

The smaller of the two scoffed. “Jungkook has no friends.”

“I thought you knew no Jungkook,” you smirked, devilishly, but the brainless pair would not subside in their efforts to rip a confession out of your — literal — cold body. “For fucks sake. I am his girl. Jungkook’s. The one that gets to fuck him every night while you two try to resist the homoerotic dynamics you have seen yourselves trapped into. Now let me in, Tweedledee.”

“A straight-up bitch. Hot.” They murmured as you made your way into the hall. Inside, a myriad of bodies crammed the room, pressed against one another. Girls in short dresses and stressed boys trying to get their attention roamed around, red cup in hand. Their scent was sweetly rancid, a mixture of alcohol, sweat and pheromones you would not be able to stand for long without a drink in your hand.

No. Wait. Probably wouldn’t be the wisest of ideas to be intoxicated while pretending to be someone else’s girlfriend for the night. You got awfully sincere when you had alcohol, and the last thing you needed was to ruin your saved favor, especially after going through all the trouble you did. Next step would not be to drink away your disgust, as compelling as that seemed to be, but to find out your pathetically inadequate fake boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath, you skirted the overabundance of bodies as you made your way past the main living room, finding solace in a somewhat calm corner of the ambient. You leaned your back against the asperous wall, taking your phone out of your purse. Numb, your thumbs cried under the effort of unlocking the device and moving to his contact — that arrogant smile on that nauseatingly perfect display picture — to type your impatient messages:

You said: Hey, loser

You said: I’m here already

You said: Where can I find you?

You waited for a few seconds to see if he would get online, but nothing appeared on your screen. For a moment your mind wandered towards the possibility of it all being a prank, after all: to get you, a serious and stuff girl, in that outrageously small piece of red fabric would be a huge joke on itself, even more if he managed to show it off to his friends. If that was the case, you would transfer colleges. Not to be overdramatic or anything.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I told you to wear a jacket, baby girl.”

The second you raised your gaze, you came to regret your reckless decision — not in the cutesy, hesitant manner you were feeling aforetime, but in the this-was-a-horrible-idea-and-my-life-is-over type of shit. Not because you were in any sort of danger, but because you accepted the fact that you had absolutely no way to control yourself near the sheer sexual temptation that was Jeon Jungkook. Not like that.

In all his glory, the idiot looked the best he ever did. With his black hair slightly disheveled, parted almost in the middle, and eyes gleaming under the neon lights of the frat house, he looked like he had just stepped out of a photoshoot for Men’s Health. His team’s jacket — blue and white, with the symbol of your college — had its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the veins in his forearms; unbuttoned so it presented you with the v-cut shirt he wore underneath, grey. You could see the outlines of his fucking abs with that crap. Muscle pig. It was absurd. He should take it off.

And of course, there were those fucking thighs. But you would not allow your gaze to fall under his waistline just yet. Yet.

A hum from his part interrupted your momentaneous fall into inferno, making you realize how quickly your heart started to beat. “You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck,” Jungkook acknowledged, his own eyes falling to your form, eyebrows slightly arched. “I always knew I had good taste for girlfriends.”

The silence between you was bubbling with an unspoken tension. Sexual, Cosmopolitan would have defined it as purely sexual. "Ten Easy Tips to Know if your Crush Wants you Too," or something of the sort would had been plastered all over the cover, where a barely-legal model would have judged you with doe-like eyes.

Jungkook's roseate tongue came out to wet his lips, to fill the void words had left behind with a heavy sigh. You wondered what those lips tasted like. Had you been asked to guess, you would have said cherry, or strawberry — although you were certain he had been drinking beer or, worse, cheap tequila shots.

The faux courage that had been motioning your body forward ever since you abandoned the dorms was now slipping in between your fingers as you reached for the hem of his jacket. "You look—" you started, but your mind went blank in a maelstrom of adjectives, amongst which you found barely no insults.

"—smoking hot?" Jungkook ventured. He was not mistaken, but still you scoffed. It the quintessence of your being, the endless sarcasm; you could not just abandon the truth of your nature for a boyfriend. A fake one, to top it all.

"I was going to say stereotyped, but hot also fits. I guess," index pressed against his chest, you leaned forward reducing the space between your bodies to naught. Air escaped in between his teeth when your lips caressed his ear with your murmurations. "What now, baby?" you mumbled, oblivious to his fingers as they traveled up your arm in a tender caress.

"Honestly?" the impish gleam of his eyes was a bad omen or, at least, the indication that you were not prepared in the slightest for what was to come. "I want to kiss the hell out of you, but not here."

For a second, you allowed yourself to forget that it was all an act. Without a second thought, you found yourself biting your lower lip in sheer desire. Lucky you, the boy would most likely think that was part of the fake love, and not your raging hormones coming out to say hello. “I would very much like that, yes,” you purred out against his skin, pressing your chest against his own. His heart was beating fast, but yours was no different. “Where to?”

Jungkook seemed to take a second to calm his nerves, clearing his mind from the impulses that flashed within his needs — if he were to be sincere, you two could forget that plan and just have a private place for yourselves, but there was a protocol to follow, his reputation at stake. “Couch,” that word came out in a serpentine whisper, muffled as if had been verbalized miles underneath the sea. Against your waist, his palm held your skin in an almost protective manner — yet, both of you were holding back now.

You hummed in agreement. His scent was intoxicating you, the heat of his body was monopolizing your most logical of conceptualizations. “Take me whenever you need me,” you agreed as one of your hands slid down his chest — jesus, those fucking abs — and towards his own hand. You intertwined his fingers in his, loving that position a bit more than you probably should. “Should we?”

If he had said something in return, you did not hear it. Before you could control yourself any further, the boy was already guiding you past the chaotic ocean of exhilarated bodies, holding down to your hand as if it was his own version of salvation. Jungkook was lucky he was hot — very fucking hot, at that — otherwise you would have cracked another joke or two about how eager he appeared to be. Still, you were certain it would backfire.

“I see you want to put up a show,” was what you said instead, accompanying his harsh movements as the two of you arrived upon the center of the room — the heart of the party, if you could say that. From your peripheral vision, you could see splashes of blue and white moving around, signaling that more of his teammates were around. Classic show off. “Want everyone watching.”

“You have no clue, babe.” Jungkook turned around just in time so he could see the glimpses of lust coruscating inside your eyes. Bedroom eyes. Cute. “I want that jacket off.”

“No deal,” you told him promptly. With a groan, the boy threw himself on a beige couch nearby, sitting somewhat close to where another two jocks conversed vigorously, waving their red cups in the air like they were not half full. It was only a matter of seconds before they saw the two of you — more precisely you — and his pretty spectacle would finally begin. “Why do you want to expose your girlfriend like this?”

It was no problem. He could take it off himself.

As a response, Jungkook simply placed his hands on his thighs, signaling you that it would be your seat for the night — seems like you would be sitting in his lap, after all. “Come here, baby,” he requested. Okay, you would be lying through your teeth if you said that the place did not appear to be as inviting as possible. “Let me have a taste of you.”

To hell with it. If you were going to act it out, you might as well put up a show, and calm down your raging hormones as you did so.

And fuck, there were some things that 90s movies could never prepare you for. There was no scene, no soundtrack, no music video able to distract you from how firm his legs were as you sat down on top of them, dress slightly moving up your thighs. There was no director, no storyline that could guide your hands around his neck as you tilted your head and closed your eyes, falling to the absolute misery that was Jeon Jungkook. There was nothing in the entire world that could have made you pull away.

What a terrible fucking idea.

Jungkook groaned as soon as your lips met, quick to set the pace as a quick, needy, sloppy kiss. His hands, before so vacillating, now had traveled to your ass, where he squeezed your flesh, making you press down your hips against his, not letting it go for a second. You melted against his kiss, allowing yourself to sigh and moan against his mouth as his tongue encountered yours. Lacking places to hold onto, your hands moved to his cheeks, then to his hair, intertwining in his black locks and pulling on them.

Okay, there were things you regretted. You thought there was nothing capable of topping the preposterous plan of pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, but that was because you had not reached that point of the night just yet. Because you had still not pulled away just enough so you could speak, caressing his lips with your own, speaking in a voice so filled with lust that you were surprised yourself. “Is that all you can do, kiddo?” you provoked him. “Come on, Jeon, is this how you treat your girl?”

He smirked. “Believe me, princess, there’s nothing I’d love more than treat you the way you deserve. Anything for you. But, you see, the audience is waiting and, as much as I would love to fuck you raw in this couch, I’d rather give the show I promised, and then renegotiate the initial clauses of our little contract,” then, a small pause, “if you are interested, of course.”

The boy was an idiot, or so you had thought: Jeon Jungkook, the dumbass that lets his dick make every essential decision, and doesn’t grasp even half of the references you throw at him. Apparently, that was not the case, and his intelligence was extensive only when he had to protect his pride and bring to term an important business. In other words, he wasn’t dumb, he wa just a selfish little prick.

Fingers sauntering up your thigh, Jungkook murmured in-between delicate kisses, and it made it impossible for you to deliver a witty remark. Every few words he would stop to taste your flesh with the tip of his tongue, and then nip it with his teeth. Lost in the feverish reverie of his tender caresses, you abandoned yourself to the feel of his kisses as his lips marked the path towards your jaw, your cheek. With a sigh falling from your swollen lips, you hoped to express the thirst he had incited, but he merely watched your reaction, diverted. Motherfucker. He knew what he was doing.

“For now,” he said against your ear, marking each word with a tap of his finger against your thigh. “This will have to do.” His thumb slid past the hem of your skirt and fuck, how you wished he were to continue his journey towards your underwear. There had been no specifications about that matter, but you had added your distinctive touch to the outfit. Jungkook did not know yet, but he would have loved to take that off you.

“I really think you can step up your game, Jungkook.” You looked around, biting your lips. None of the players around you were particularly interested in your little affair. Short skirts and exhibitionism were the daily bread of all those jocks. Luckily, that night no one had pulled out their dicks to measure them or start a peeing contest. Perhaps later in the night, when alcohol run freely through their bloodstream, eliminating their inhibition — or what was left of it, anyways. “This show of yours will impress no one.”

As if motioned by the fuel of a good challenge, Jungkook pounced over your lips. His touch was no longer delicate, contained, or meticulous, as it was before. Earlier, all he had wanted was to create a beautiful painting in which you, a girl that would have never had any interest for the jock in the class, was head over heels for him. He cared not about his audience, not anymore, as he could not bring himself to think of the friends he was supposed to impress. His only and most primal desire was to prove himself, to erase the disdainful sneer tainting those lips that were like nectar against his tongue.

You threw yourself off his lap and leaned your back against the arm of the sofa, being trapped between it and his large figure. In the impetus of his sudden adoration, you lost your hold on reality and allowed for him to overtake you, pressing his chest against your own. Jungkook’s hand in the small of your back cushioned your descents to the inferno of his hips pressed against yours, hands exploring your waist, and the curve of your breasts over the tight dress.

It was getting more and more difficult to come to your senses when all you could feel were his palms against your breasts, only to go down to your ass a second later. Your dress was being pulled upwards, your heart overtaken by the intoxicated by rhythm of the song as one of his legs moved in between yours, pressing down on your core — gradually at first, but then strong enough for you to moan loudly against his mouth. This kid was playing with fire. You loved it.

You were out of breath and out of mind when a voice called from the outside world, that universe of flashing comets and red asters circulating around your sweltering bodies. “Hey kid! Jungkook!” the unknown timbre insisted further and, before you could recognize it, Jungkook had pushed himself away from you to smile at a stranger. Whoever it was, you wanted him killed for interrupting your search for nirvana. “You know we have rooms for that kind of unholy shit. Leave all the exhibitionism for Jimin, he loves it.”

With a smirk, his victory became plastered across his douchebag face, “I got carried away, sorry,” Jungkook explained, lips shining with the remnants of your gloss. His hand was still against your waist, but he showed no shame when he winked in your direction, purposefully following your eyes as they grew darker — he was loving it. “Tastes like heaven, y’know?”

The other guy, whose name you could not quite recall, simply rolled his eyes at the out-of-character sentence, “Whatever you say, dude,” he mumbled underneath the music, unaffected by show you two had put up. Instead, his gaze seemed to be a bit lost in the remanent liquid that dwelled on the bottom of his red cup — poor kid was completely wasted. “Uh, by the way, before I forget. Namjoon has been looking for you for like two hours or whatever. He says, and I quote, that he wants to see it or he won’t believe it.”

Jungkook’s smile grew by a few millimeters, finding in that sentence the opportunity he needed. He didn’t need half of your GPA to understand what his friend was referring to, “Yeah, sure thing, man,” he answered. You were amazed how casually he was acting for someone who still had one hand holding tightly to your ass, but you could not claim you did not like it. In fact, he could strip you naked for all you cared, fake boyfriend or not. “Where is he, by the way?”

Chewing on his words for a second, the guy paused. His chocolate-colored eyes got lost in the horizon and, at last, you came to understand that he must have consumed something other than alcohol — hey, no judgement, you were not precisely the morally superior person in that conversation. “He was at the game room with the dudes. I don’t know if they’re still there.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook exclaimed, his palm squeezing your ass once again. Only then did you notice that, in the meantime, his shirt had rolled up a bit. Now you totally could see those abs you have always dreamt about and, good lord, they were even better than what you imagined. If you were not acting then, you would have cursed out his unnamed friend for interrupting that slack of paradise — but hell, the ghostly sensation of his lips on yours still got the best of you. Fucking prick. He was too powerful. “Thanks, Tae. You didn’t see anything.”

Tae… Taehyung. Oh, now you remembered. The kid who got high and ate pizza from the bottom of the pool in freshman year. Disgusting and slightly worrisome. You thought some memories could be left forgotten.

Taehyung suspired. “I did, though,” only then did his gaze navigate back to you, lingering on your face for a couple more seconds than necessary. You didn’t know if it were the drugs acting up, or if he was examining your artificially naive expression. “Hot choice of panties, by the way. Your ass looks great in lacy black. Cheers to that.”

“You have really good taste, buddy.” With a radiant smile, you agreed. Past the blur of weed and alcohol, Taehyung replicated the gesture, and raised his red cup in a giddy toast. Whether he was lauding the glorious roundness of your ass, or the intricate beauty of your one and only pair of expensive panties, you did not care. There was no use for shame within those walls, especially when your ass was indeed hot confined within the soft lace. “Imaginary cheers to that.”

It was a moment of amicable comradery, even though Taehyung was one shot away from becoming the buffon of the party. Around your waist, Jungkook’s fingers tightened but, before you could turn around to face his predictable displeasure, the moment ended, and you were presented with a luciferous smile.

“Noted. Thank you dude, see you around.” Jungkook screamed over the loud bass of a terrible remix of a very popular song you wished was shorter. The constant chit-chat developing around did not help communicate but, luckily, you were not required to hold a challenging conversation that night. With a peck in the lips and a light squeeze of your ass, Jungkook prompted you to move. It was strangely loving — for a jock, at least.

Once anew, he guided you through the crowd, a hand in your waist and the other buried deep in one of the pockets of his jacket. The picture was magazine-worthy. One of those blurry shots, taken with a Polaroid, that could had made it into the cover of an Indie album — even if Jungkook could have starred in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad, jacket and all.

“Where is that fucking game room?” The question felt extremely bitter against your tongue when you had to wipe someone else’s sweat off your arm. The party was heating up, and not in the good way. “Please tell me it isn’t some Fifty Shades of Grey shit.”

“Didn’t picture you as one of those.” Jungkook let go of your waist to interwine his fingers in yours. It was calming, the chilliness of his hand against your sweltering skin. “But no, here we never watched that. The dudes are, you know, more into anal compilations and shit like that— not me!” He rushed to say, hands up in a gesture of defeat. “Baby Jesus wouldn’t not approve.”

That was, by far, the weirdest conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Pity, now that I thought we would make a great pair.” You sighed. “I guess I’ll have to find another hot dude to watch my kinky porn with.”

“I— sweet lord.” With shaky hands he massaged his cheeks. You were exhausting, even for him. Good. “We’ll discuss that later.” Jungkook opened one of the doors in the hallway, leading into a big space that was, precisely, only meant to game. “Now we have business to do.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you took a couple steps into the large area, absorbing its details. The first thing you noticed, as your company closed the door behind you two, was that it was soundproof — finally, a blessing for the night. As the excruciating buzzing in your ears still lingered, your hearing started to focus on the diverse conversations that dwelled beyond those closed doors. From what you could notice, there had to be around fifteen people in there — stereotypical jocks and cheerleaders, if you were to be quite honest — and they were mostly segregated into two smaller groups. One of which, you recognized, had the individual you two had been looking for.

Now, Kim Namjoon was a specimen of his own kind. You had no idea what kind of satanic pact had he resorted to, but it had been good enough to gift him the brain of a Harvard professor and the body of a professional athlete — all wrapped up in that team jacket, which suited him so dangerously well. You would be lying through clenched teeth if you were to say you had not checked him out at least once or twice during your shared Advanced Literature classes — but that was a secret that would be buried with you. Again, he was still one of those fraternity types, and blowing up their egos was as easy as blowing other, less christian areas.

Again, you would be lying if you said you had not considered that either.

Jungkook’s arm found the curvature of your waist once again, making you fall back into your usual acting state. Next to you, the boy was smiling freely — not in a sympathetic manner, but in a I’m-getting-good-sex-tonight kind of smile. He could keep dreaming, for all you cared. “What’s up, Kim?” he cheered, guiding you around the grey couch. Considerably large, it was surrounded by two armchairs, forming a square-like shape in the center of the room. On the wall next to it, a baseball game was silenced on the LED screen. “Thought I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

Namjoon had his elbows resting on a marble table, seating on one of the tall benches that surrounded it. You were surprised he had even found empty space in there, since all you could see was a pandemonium of empty bottles and pizza boxes. “I should be one one saying that, Jeon.” The other jock smiled just as freely, exposing those dimples you had always found unbearably cute. He did not look at you for a second. “You are not one to vanish during a party. Did you get laid or something?”

“See, Namjoon, your friend Jungkook is trying to get laid tonight, but let’s see how that goes, right honey?” You butted in, to Namjoon’s dismay. Very delicately, like the Disney princess you were not. You sat on the couch, paying no mind to the many diverse types of stains dotting it. Kim Namjoon was not going to ignore you, like you were a nothing but a pretty decoration Jungkook carried around to show off — especially not when you could beat his non-existent genius ass any day during a debate. “Hi, Namjoon. Didn’t see you in class last Wednesday.”

“Hangover.” He explained, taking a bite off a chewy slice of cheese pizza. “I have to confess I am surprised. I thought you were joking when you said you two were—”

“—dating, yes. I’m a married man now, Namjoon. No more getting laid with just anybody.” Jungkook flopped by your side. His hand went immediately towards your naked knee, and there it stayed. Very subtle.

“What do you guys talk about?” Namjoon pried, impertinently. In his timbre you could perceive a hint of disbelief, and it was understandable. He had seen you in action, going after your debate opponents like a shark in bloody waters. Jungkook was, compared to the you he had witnessed, a kindergartener in nappies, and he simply couldn’t comprehend how the two of you could work together — or even compliment each other, honestly.

“Volleyball.” Jungkook said, with an enthusiasm that made your wry smile pathetic. “She loves volleyball.”

Namjoon crackled at the unexpectedly joyful response. “Never seen her in a game.”

“I’m more of a theoretical fan of — of the sports.” Eyes disappearing into the fakest smile, you tried to escape the trap Jungkook had thrown you into. Namjoon was correct. You had not set foot in a court ever since high-school, and even back then you had only done so because it was mandatory. “I have watched Haikyuu at least thrice. I’m an expert.”

“She’ll come to the next one.” Jungkook kissed your cheek, interrupting your excused before it was too late. The touch of his petal-like lips was, at the very least, pleasant. “We made a deal. She wears my jacket and I use the shortest pants I own for the game.”

Namjoon chuckled at the idea, still skeptical. You knew he would be a hard one to convince, since he usually saw through your bullshit — both in debates and in real life. “Yeah, right,” was all that he managed to say, still dodging your gaze. Oh, you saw what he was doing. Sneaky motherfucker. Sly little snake. By avoiding you and focusing on your fake boyfriend, he was both pressing on the one easier to slip on the lie, and annoying you. He knew how you got when you were hot-headed and that was, once again, a recipe for disaster. “In all seriousness, weeaboo anime aside, what do you… theoretically like about volleyball?”

No eye contact still. Fair. Two could play that game.

“Physics,” you answered within a heartbeat, almost surprising yourself by how naturally that response came from in between your lips. Not necessarily a lie, too. But that was a long story. “I told you this already. Volleyball can be explained with high school-level of mechanics. Energy and work, force, projectile motion… You know the deal.”

Namjoon hummed, watching closely the line of cheese that dripped down his pizza. “Yeah, I know the deal,” he told you. He had not bought it. “And I know you know it too. My question is,” he paused, looking up to point at Jungkook. “Does he?”

Well, you just had to know it would backfire like that. Still, you barely had time to feel panic starting to germinate in your throat before Jungkook interrupted the conversation with flawless grace, “Not much, that is why she’s teaching me,” perfect. Simple. Fail proof. You could barely believe that the single neuron that inhabited his mind managed to make a synapsis with itself and come up with that. “Yo, man, why are you so defensive all of a sudden? You’re making my girl uncomfortable.”

My girl. You hated how much you liked that.

His friend hesitated for a second, chewing slowly on the piece of food. It didn’t seem like it was any good. In the very least, it was cold. “Yeah. My bad, dude. Bad week,” Namjoon was quick to apologize, which you did not believe for an instant. He was smarter than that, more arrogant than someone that would so fast admit to his own fault. “Guess I just can’t believe you managed to get a girl like Y/N. Life sucks sometimes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you were the one who asked it, even if both of you were thinking it. It was your turn to try and not to get defensive, but it was getting harder and harder by the second. You crossed your legs, which induced for your red dress to slip up your legs. Namjoon followed the movement, and then his gaze was stuck. Oh. Maybe there was another reason for his lack of eye contact. “Don’t tell me that the great captain Kim Namjoon is suddenly jealous.”

He shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. But you do look hotter than ninety-five percent of the chicks I’ve seen all year,” and then, his next sentences were directed straight at Jungkook. “I don’t know if you had the chance to see it already, man, but she has a great taste for underwear.”

Ninety-five was a good percentile, but you were indeed hot in that dress. Namjoon trembled, almost imperceptibly, when you slid your legs over Jungkook’s lap, to cuddle against his chest. In all honesty, the posture was not comfortable, not in that dress. Had you been back in the dorm, in your PJ’s, the tale would have been completely different; but Namjoon’s expression was a poem — a terrible one, at that — and that was enough satisfaction for the moment.

When you sighed, Namjoon replicated it, in a long-drawled, cheese-scented exhalation. The sound he emitted was pitiful, but it helped you comprehend fully the frustration the poor boy was submitted to, and the ultimate reason behind his pizza binge. His was a severe case of blue balls, and you were the one and only cause it. Cute.

“Namjoon, if you really want to address my exquisite taste in underwear, you can tell me directly,” you said. A thread of cheese remained in precarious equilibrium in between his lower lip and his hand, as he struggled for once to follow your words. The genius had short-circuited over lacy panties and the grossest kind of PDA. Another achievement unlocked in the marvelous experience that was college. It would look beautiful in your curriculum, right beside your volunteer work. “Jungkook is more used to seeing me without it. He wouldn’t understand our fantastic taste.”

“Babe,” Jungkook whined, caressing your thigh to make you cognizant of his presence. “I do love your underwear—”

“—Scattered all over your bedroom.” You whispered in the most impish little voice. By the glance he returned, Jungkook had loved the image. Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe you were in character and your discerning was altered, but you could have sworn his dick had twitched at the thought. Interesting.

To drown his sorrow, Namjoon took yet another slice of pizza. The boy could eat. He was still munching his previous victim, and it was making you hungry. Jungkook was very hot and all, but he had not offered to get you a drink or something to eat. Chivalry was, indeed, dead. “Let me ask you a question, Y/N,” Namjoon murmured in-between greasy bites. “It’ll be easy. I promise.”

“I’m all ears.”

“What is it, exactly, what made you fall for our ace?” Namjoon inquired. It was an unexpected question. A cheerleader could have asked the same, waiting you to offer a bland response in the trite language all popular girls had long mastered like: his big, big eyes; his toothpaste commercial worthy smile, the humongous size of his — not his brain, that was for certain.

But it was not a cheerleader the one to make the question, but Namjoon. Out of all the athletes in the house, Namjoon was the only one you had ever exchanged more than a few words with. Interesting words. The kind that — put together in a coherent sentence — form conversation two functional adults can take pleasure in. “Does he read Whitman to make you sleep?” He pressed further.

Before you could think twice, the words were already departing from your lips. “He rants about your pep-talks, that’s enough to have me snoring in seconds.”

He scoffed. “Nice comeback, it’s a pity that you’ve been avoiding my question like the plague,” Namjoon said in what appeared to be a groan, patience starting to run thin. At last, he appeared to have finished eating his horniness away, for he dropped the last slice of pizza back in the box. “Let me rephrase that, then—”

Next to you, Jungkook fumbled on his seat. “—Namjoon, bro, that’s enough,” he said firmly, almost an order. From the way Namjoon’s eyebrows moved together into a frown, you could tell that such serious demeanor was also uncommon amongst his group of friends. Jungkook was only serious in two situations: during games, and when his white knight complex had been activated. You would guess that was the latter. “I know it’s hard to believe, all right? Even I don’t buy it sometimes. But this is exactly why we didn’t tell you guys earlier, I knew you’d have a blast interrogating my girlfriend. And this is not cool, alright? It’s not cool that you’re over here talking about her underwear and acting like you’d be a total catch compared to me. Fuck that shit, dude, don’t ruin the night for us just because you got some jealousy stuck up your ass.”

Silence. The other boy took a second, then two, to chew what was left on his mouth, closely analyzing his friend. You could see the wheels moving inside Namjoon’s brain and — unlike Jungkook — he had more than one synapsis to make. “Hey, fair enough,” he said. And then he started smiling. Actually smiling. Putting-the-Cheshire-Cat-To-Shame kind of smile. “What has gotten into you tonight, uh? Jesus. I’m just fucking with you, didn’t think you’d get this overprotective. That’s some serious shit you’ve gotten yourself into, Jeon.”

Jungkook seemed to take an instant to fully digest the unforeseen change of demeanor, then joined his friend in his laugh. “Bro, what the fuck? You were annoying as hell,” he was clearly puzzled, even if you could see sheer alleviation in that smile. Oh, honey. He was not acting over there, was he? Poor kid really took that to heart. “Get outta here with that interrogation bullshit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Look at that, you already know one famous victorian character,” Namjoon sarcastically celebrated, turning back at you — still living in the apex of confusion. You should have stayed home and read a book, where men are predictable and fraternity athletes as just a ghost in your memory. “You’ve been a positive influence so far, Y/N, props to that. I’ve been trying to get him to at least watch the movies for ages.”

“He only agreed to watch it once I explained Iron Man featured in it.” Taking advantage of your fake-girlfriend privileges, you slid your hand under Jungkook’s shirt. Fingers dawdling over his warm skin, you delighted in the sensation of his muscles quivering under your touch. It would not be noticeable to Namjoon — although he was particularly sharp that night. Words encompassing your feathery caresses, you murmured into his ear. “I’m thirsty, babe.”

Namjoon looked away when you nuzzled Jungkook’s neck, to bury his jealousy under another pile of cheese.

“Do you want some beer?” Jungkook blinked twice, trying to decipher the sudden change in the inflections of your voice. It was no longer playful, teasing, but dripping something he could have only categorised as desire. Jungkook was dense, enough to miss the a very evident innuendo by a mile. “I can go get you something.”

“No, not that.” Your fingers treaded an undiscovered path towards the lines of his hips, and the hem of his pants. His brain had missed the memo, but his dick was extremely eager to catch up, and was now constricted against his belt. The moment he rose from the couch, the boner would be exposed, and it would give him the perfect opportunity to drag you away from the room and towards his bedroom. “Jungkook… Let’s go.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first.” He excused himself to Namjoon, who had decided to embrace his solitude by hugging the pizza box and returning his attention to the baseball game. His team was losing. Big night for Kim Namjoon.

Jungkook pecked your lips and scurried from below your body. The room was cold now that he had left, and Namjoon was not willing to talk.

“So… pizza, huh?” you said, fixing your clothes. The last thing our brave captain needed was to take another glimpse at your ass.

Namjoon stared into the screen, absorbed by the little figures moving around. It was hard to believe that someone like him could he find baseball so entrancing. “So…Jungkook, huh?”

There it was. Jealousy, in its rawest form. He would never be so explicit in front of Jungkook, they were friends after all, but with you Namjoon could say whatever thoughts crossed his mind. “You know Jungkook isn’t as stupid as he wants all of campus to believe. He might not be a genius like you, but he is smart. He’s just a little bit caught up in the popularity game,” you said. The words leaving your mouth surprised you. Kind words for Jeon Jungkook, what a night to be alive. “Don’t be so surprised, Namjoon.”

The baseball game was no longer as relevant, for Namjoon deigned to look at you. Browns knitted in incredulity, he dropped the last slice of pizza and cleaned his hands in the team jacket. Symbolically, it was not a good thing, but he was probably overdosing on cheese. “I’m not surprised. Maybe you like him, after all.”

“Maybe I do.” You confessed with a quick wink and a guilty smile. “He gives good head, too.”

“That’s too much information.” Namjoon was nauseated, but he would never say it aloud. There was also the possibility that it was not nausea the grimace transfiguring his cute face, but jealousy. “You should go get your boyfriend, though, I think he got lost in his own reflection or something.”

Just like Namjoon had suggested, you followed Jungkook’s trail towards the bathroom. Trail, as in asking the couples making out in the hallway where the bathroom was. The first pair had not responded you, they were too busy sucking each other’s tongues to even form a coherent sentence. Titty in hand, the man in the second pair of lovers, explained where to find the bathroom — that was also known as the knocking shop.

To be fair, you knocked, but the music was too loud and the sound too timid. When you received no indication from Jungkook, you opened the door. At first you could not see past the outrageously pink sink. It was horrifyingly ugly. Jungkook rested against it, his forehead was pressed against the mirror, his warm exhalations creating beautiful designs over the reflective surface. One of his hands gripped tightly the sink, the veins of his arms visible, like rivers you had loved to explore through your fingertips. His other hand was trapped within the confines of his jeans, pressed against his dick. With every sigh and every moan, he would roll his hips against his hand, fucking himself into oblivion. All signs of arrogance vanished from his features when he was about to cum. Vulnerability looked so pretty on him.

You wished there was a joke you could crack, even if to yourself, that could serve as a coping mechanism to whatever the fuck you were being presented with. Still, nothing came out of your lips besides a loud, slightly horrified:

“What the actual fuck, Jungkook?”

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ink-and-flame · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 12: Puppy Play

Kinktober Day 12 Prompts: Shaving (body hair) || Forced dressing || Human puppy dog Fandom: [None] Original Tags: Exophilia, puppy play, shaving, forced clothing, dom/sub, male submissive Pairing: Goblin(f)/Human(m) Reader

[Authors Note: This is my first attempt at a male reader so I hope I can do this justice. Hopefully the level of kink in this isn’t too much but I can understand how this will not be for everyone. This story is set in the same Modern Fantasy world as the Sidra/Jez stories and the Charity Event story.]

It wasn’t like you to answer ads on the internet, but the dry spell was getting to you. This wasn’t a typical dating site, it was more for hook-ups and such. Most people on here were not looking for anything serious, or any kind of relationship. You would have been fine using a regular dating site, but weren’t having much luck. This seemed like a decent compromise. Find someone now, for something quick, scratch and itch and worry about anything more serious later.

You had not really expected to find someone so quickly, genuinely expecting the same luck you had with standard dating sites. However, the same day you posted your profile there was a message waiting in your inbox later that night. Checking out her profile you saw she was a goblin, quite attractive, and really kinky. You liked kink well enough, but there were several she had listed that you had not ever heard of. It made you cautious yet curious. So of course you had to respond.

A couple days of messaging and you had set up a date. She had invited you to her home and asked for your clothing size, which struck you as odd but you figured she just needed your measurements to see if anything she owned would fit you as you had told her you did not own much in the way of kink gear. With the date and time set you had nothing to do but relax and work yourself into a state of nerves.

This was a new experience and you weren’t sure what possessed you to choose something this advanced to start. Maybe it was because she was responded so fast you hadn’t really had a chance to look for anything else, or maybe something inside of you really was curious and you were worried you might not get another chance like this again.

The day came and you were a ball of nerves when arriving at her house. She answered the door looking rather normal, you had expected her to already be in costume or something, but this made more sense. She smiled up at you as you stepped into her home. It was nice, incredibly nice, and your nerves started to fade just slightly as her warm tone and friendly nature comforted you.

She walked with you to the living room where you both sat down and began negotiations. She needed to know your limits, anything that could upset you, anything you weren’t willing to do under any circumstances. You agreed to using a color code to keep things simple and she began to explain what she was looking for.

“I know I wasn’t too detailed in my message, but I was worried that if I overwhelmed you with information that you wouldn’t be interested in giving this a try.” She paused for a moment then continued. “I was wondering if you had ever heard of puppy play, and if you would be willing to indulge me a bit?”

You had seen references to it, a few jokes on websites, and knew some of the basics. However it wasn’t something you had ever really considered. It was difficult to answer, you didn’t want her to think you had more knowledge than you did, and considering the sources of what you knew, there was a good chance everything you thought you knew was wrong. “I have heard of it, but I have no experience and I don’t know if anything I have seen online is true. Depending on what you want, I would be willing to try this.”

She was smiling, a sharp toothed grin. Bringing her hands together in front of her chest she looked positively delighted. “Oh I am so glad to hear that, I was really hoping you would be willing to at least give it a try.” Wiggling a bit closer she began to explain. “Puppy play can take a few forms and range from mild to extreme. I am looking for something in the middle, not fully dehumanizing, but closer to you pretending to be an animal than a human. I have some costumes that might fit you as most are adjustable, at least the accessories are. I just wanted to make sure that you would be ok with all of this before we began.”

“I can’t say I know much about it, so I have no idea how I will react once we start, but so far nothing you have said bothers me. You will have to guide me, show me what it is you want from me, but honestly I am kind of excited to try.” You smiled down at her and did indeed feel a bit excited. This was new and different and if nothing else she was beautiful and sweet. You wanted to try.

“Excellent, please follow me and we will get started.” The goblin hopped off the couch and headed to a room towards the back of the house.

Following the goblin you looked around, curious about her life. When lead into the back room you were a bit shocked. It looked like a sex shop and a sex dungeon had a baby and it was a little intimidating. As much as you towered over the goblin you were beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. There was so much to take in, maybe too much.

“Ok, go ahead and strip off your clothes and place them over there.”

Shrugging you decided there was no time like the present and hoped your nerves would fade as you spent more time in the room and got used to the situation. Removing your clothes and placing them to the side you waited, wondering if she would find your appearance acceptable. It was hard to gauge what women liked and it could be a little nerve wracking getting naked in front of a new partner.

Looking you up and down the goblin tapped her chin. “Are you attached to your body hair?”

It was an odd question and you just stared at her for a moment. “I.. am not sure how to answer that. Um, can I ask why you are asking?”

She laughed a bit. “Fair enough, some of these items of clothing will be quite tight and considering the material will probably pull some of that hair out when you take it off. It might cause you less pain later to shave a few areas. Only if you want, I can try using extra oil and we can hope that will be enough to prevent it from getting tugged on and yanked out when you move around and take the costume off.”

The idea of having your hair ripped out did not appeal to you in the least. Looking down at yourself you shrugged. You weren’t that attached to it, and it was something you had considered trying before, so it wouldn’t hurt to just go ahead and do it. “Ok, not sure how long it will take to shave me though.”

Holding up her hand and taking yours the goblin lead you to a large bathroom and handed you a razor and shaving cream. She also held a razor. “If we both work on it, shouldn’t take too long. We will focus on your chest and thighs, how do you feel about having your pubic hair removed as well?”

“Curious enough to let you try, but carefully?” You didn’t really like the idea of a razor down there, that was a sensitive area, but she would have a better view than you so it might be easier to let her do it.

“Don’t worry, I have a light touch.”

Thirty minutes later, with both of you working, you were as shaved as you were going to get. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you didn’t hate it. The legs were a bit odd, having only your thighs shaved, but overall it wasn’t bad. You kind of liked how your cock looked and admired it a bit before leaving the bathroom.

When she handed you the outfit you balked a bit. You had no idea what it would look like, but now you knew why you needed to shave. It wasn’t something you would have ever chosen to wear on your own and you were starting to consider backing out. Putting on a brave face you nodded and looked over the suit wondering how to even get it on.

“You might want to oil your skin first, it will help.” She offered and held up the oil. “I could do it for you?”

Nodding you moved to sit down and flipped the outfit over a few times to look at it while she began to oil you up. It felt nice, her large hands were strong and you imagined she gave pretty decent massages. You had kind of hoped she would rub oil everywhere, but she had left your cock alone, moving straight from your hips to your thighs.

“Don’t worry, we will get to the good stuff soon enough.” She was smirking as she finished and wiped off her hands on a towel. “Alright let's get you dressed while I go over the rules.”

As you pulled on the costume, finding the oil actually did help a great deal, you listened carefully to her instructions. You didn’t want to miss anything important and paused before putting on any of the accessories as you worried the hood might hinder your ability to hear clearly.

“Once you are fully in costume I want you on all fours. No standing up fully on two legs, but you can rear up on your knees if you want to beg. No speaking unless I tell you do. You may whimper, whine, bark, and make other dog sounds. Maybe don’t howl, I do have neighbors and I really don’t want to be interrupted again.” She laughed before continuing. “I will be giving you commands, I expect them to be followed. I am not really looking for a disobedience type play this time, I feel that adding punishment to this might be too much so try your best to behave. Other than that, I hope you have as much fun as I do.”

Nodding you slipped on the hood and moved to your hands and knees, waiting for her to place the rest of the accessories on you. She put on a collar and attached a leash, slipped your hands into some gloves that looked like paws, but left your feet bare. The suit covered you, but you noticed while putting it on that a section around the groin could be removed and assumed that would only be done when the scene turned fully sexual which you hoped that it did.

The goblin started you off simple enough, walking you around on the leash to get you used to how you were expected to move. Having you do different simple tricks such as sit, lay down, and roll over. Honestly it was more fun than you thought it would be and started getting into it. You didn’t even notice when you began growling while playing a game of tug of war, carefully as your jaw wasn’t as strong as an actual dogs. She rewarded your enthusiastic play with a belly rub that moved low enough to have you arching into her hand and becoming sexually aroused.

“Such a good boy! Good puppy. Sit! Now stay!” The goblin dropped your leash and kept an eye on you as she walked away and began to undress herself. Moving over to a low chair she settled herself on top of it, legs spread.

You were surprised when she began sliding her hand between her legs, playing with her pussy. Her fingers sliding over her folds and circling her clit. On one hand, you wanted to obey and show her you could listen, on the other, you really wanted to get closer to her. You wanted to touch her, taste her, be inside of her. Your arousal was obvious, the body suit leaving little to the imagination and not much room for you to become erect.

“C’mere pup.” She patted her thigh encouraging you over.

Moving quickly on your hands and knees you were right between her legs in seconds, your excitement clear. She hooked a finger in the hood and drew your face closer so the nose of the hood was pressed against her. It was clear what she wanted and you began to rub the hoods muzzle against her slick folds and clit. Her excitement was clear and while the hood was restricting your ability to see, it was still exciting to you to play with her like this.

“Good boy, you are such a well behaved puppy. I think you deserve a reward, who wants a treat?”

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next. So you just nodded and whimpered a bit to indicate your confusion. When she reached down and removed the groin covering you had an idea of what it was she might want from you. It was hard not to moan as she stroked you to full arousal, and your erection throbbed in her hand. You were a bit more excited than you had expected. Watching as she flipped over onto her stomach and raised her ass, you waited for a signal or order that you were supposed to move.

The goblin grabbed your leash and tugged on it, pulling so that you knew to move up and over her body. Positioning yourself carefully you rubbed the tip of your cock against her slick folds, biting back a groan as it wasn’t an approved noise. This wasn’t going to be easy, you were excited and more than ready for this part. Bracing yourself over her you pushed slowly inside as feeling her tight heat begin to envelop you.

This time you couldn’t stop the moan as she tugged hard on the leash forcing you to arch into her hard and bury yourself almost to the base inside of her. She was considerably smaller than you, but she was strong and it only aroused you more. Hunching over her you began moving your hips slowly, but it clearly wasn’t enough for her.

“You are being a bad dog, now fuck me like the beast you are.” She glanced over her shoulder and nodded at you. Clearly wanting you to understand she could handle it and she wanted it rough.

Not needing any more encouragement than that you began thrusting hard into her, rutting her like the beast she wanted you to be. There was something oddly freeing about it, allowing yourself to just give in to the baser animal instincts. You knew the difference, knew this was consensual, you knew you weren’t an animal. It was still a unique feeling that only made the sex that much more intense for you.

Yes she was tight, and small beneath you, but it was more than just her tightness that had your release building quickly. She was completely wild beneath you. Pushing herself back to meet each thrust, begging for it harder and faster, she was so wet you could feel it on your thighs. All of it only served to turn you on more as you fucked her with abandon. Balls slapping up against her wet clit, burying yourself deep inside of her. It was too much and all to soon you could feel your orgasm start to crest.

There was no stopping it, no holding back, you no longer had the control. There wasn’t a unsexy thought, breathing exercises, or bit of mental control that was going to slow down your release. Soon your balls we pulling up, you cock swelling as you felt that tension build inside of you. A warmth spreading through your groin before all your muscles tensed and your orgasm began.

Thrusting hard and deep into the little goblin beneath you, your balls began to empty. Thick ropes of cum filling her as your body trembled slightly from the tension and intensity of your release. Only when you were slightly more aware could you feel her pulsing around you. She had found her release as well and that soothed a part of you that was worried.

Panting you tried not to collapse fully on top of her, worried your weight would be too much but not wanting to pull out just yet. Moving more to the side you pulled her against your chest and nuzzled at her neck as your breathing turned back to normal.

“That was amazing, I hope you consider meeting up with me for something like this again.” She looked back over her shoulder at you. “You can talk now and take off the hood if you need to.”

Nodding you did just that, removing the hood but not moving to take anything else off. “That.. that was incredible. Um, yes, I would like to do this again.” You had found a new kink and someone to indulge in it with. This was so much better than any dumb dating site results could have been and you were happy that you decided to be just a little adventurous.

#exophilia #goblin x human #goblin x male reader #kinktober 2019

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