#also even if you get full time studio work a lot of it is short term contracts so you're in and out of work a LOT

[branmer]

a top secret they don't tell you about succeeding in the arts is just to have a partner with a stable income lol

[sabertoothwalrus]

so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.

First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!

Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.

But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.

On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.

However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.

But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.

The alternative is indie animation.

With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.

The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.

And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.

Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.

And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)

And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.

You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!

Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.

So it’s tricky.

Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.

I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.

[joonsmagicshop]

Sundress Season

Summary: The heat of the summer means you are suddenly only wearing sundresses. Short, tight, impossibly cute dresses that make Jungkook feel things. When he decides to jerk off before a beach day with you little does he know you would accidently walk in...and like what you see.

Paring: Jungkook/Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: porn with slight plot, secret crush, friends to lovers, Jungkook is down bad, fantasizing, male masturbation, accidental voyeurism, handjob, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex with protection, POV switch between him and reader, dirty talk, he calls her good girl at one point, slight fluff at the end, Namjoon mention cause he is my bias

Authors Note: okay so. I was about to take a nap and this idea popped into my head and I JUMPED out of bed to write it! It has been hot as hell all summer long and honestly unpopular opinion but I am ready for fall. Was gonna save this for Jungkook's birthday but oh well!

Also this was loosely inspired by a One Direction fic I read over ten years ago. While the fic is gone it is definitely not forgotten

Jungkook was someone who liked the summer months.

He liked the longer brighter days, the food eaten from a barbeque, bonfires with friends, and all the fun events that happen over the summer.

It was prime time for everyone to get out and do things before the harsh dull winter arrived.

However, this summer was different because by the time August rolled around Jungkook was just….over it.

He chalked it up to a lot of things.

The fact he didn’t get a proper haircut before the summer started, so he spent the whole time with a hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back from his sweaty neck.

The fact he had a song coming out at the end of August that he still wasn’t completely sure about so he spent most of his days either working on it in his studio or from the comfort of his own home.

Or maybe it was the fact almost all summer long the weather had been very hot and very humid, making his clothes stick to his skin the second he walked out the door and making it almost impossible to actually enjoy going out and doing anything.

Jungkook sighed as he crossed another day off his calendar that hung on the wall in his home office counting down the days until August was over.

Sure the start of September was his birthday and he was excited for that but he was mostly getting excited about the prospect of cooler weather and no more daunting deadlines hanging over his head like an angry raincloud.

As his best friend, you could tell Jungkook wasn’t enjoying this summer. His usual free-spirited nature seemed to be crushed by the weight of his work and also the humidity, which seemed to linger no matter how many summer rainstorms blew through.

So you had texted him a week ago asking if he wanted to have a beach day with you today.

You assured him all he had to do was drive and grab beach umbrellas and you would take care of the rest for him, making the food and grabbing a cooler full of drinks.

Jungkook was ecstatic at the idea and made sure to work extra hard this past week to give himself a day off to spend with you.

However, that did pose another problem for Jungkook as he left his home office to head back to his bedroom to make sure his beach bag was packed.

Sunscreen, towel, extra towel in case, his goggles for when he swam, his phone, a book Namjoon had told him he should read even though it had been three months since it had been loaned out to Jungkook and he still had not even opened it, a notebook and a pen in case a song idea came to him, headphones, sunglasses and lastly some of his favorite chips he was packing just in case.

While he was all packed and ready to go, there was still a big problem he was dealing with.

How was he supposed to deal with being around you while you were dressed in one of your many sundresses?

Somewhere online had dubbed it a “sundress summer” due to the humidity and the trend took off instantly. It seemed like everywhere he went girls were wearing these short cute sundresses because in their words it was too hot to wear pants.

You usually were not a trend follower as you opted to choose your own style but this was a trend you could get behind, and soon enough Jungkook found you wearing sundresses almost every day.

Soft blue ones with little bows on the straps, bright red ones with white flowers, and even some strapless ones that nearly made his eyes pop out of his head at the sight.

He genuinely didn’t think he would survive this summer if you kept up with this, especially since most of the sundresses were short and had a habit of billowing in the breeze making you grab the skirt and giggle.

The other big problem was you had no idea the turmoil Jungkook had been in all summer long.

You both were friends, growing up across the street from each other and hanging out almost every day. You went to the same grade school, and the same high school, and were inseparable. You supported his dreams of being an idol and he supported your goals and dreams too.

You had no idea that this was the summer that everything changed for him. When he realized that you were not just his best friend, but also a charismatic stunning woman who he started to gain a crush on.

Jungkook tried his best to keep the crush to himself. He didn’t want to lose you as a friend and it would be devastating to get rejected by you so he figured he would just keep it hidden and keep being your friend.

He would try his best not to scowl anytime a man came up to you and offered to buy you a drink. He would pretend it didn’t hurt when you would kiss strangers at the club wrapping your fingers through their hair and moaning against their lips.

He hated that when you dropped a guy because of whatever reason, his heart would do a little victory dance in his chest and he would try to look like a supportive friend and not a desperate loser who just wanted you to feel the same way about him as he did about you.

There were times though, when Jungkook was sure you felt….something.

How your eyes would linger when he took off his shirt. How you would always ask him to roll up his sleeve so you could look at the array of tattoos he had, how angry you got when that girl he really liked ghosted him a year ago.

There were times when he would also catch you staring at his lips. Just a quick downward flick of your eyes and in a blink it was gone.

But Jungkook noticed.

And he often wondered what would happen if he leaned in and kissed you.

Would he have read the entire situation wrong? Or would you kiss him back?

Jungkook shakes his head to rid him of these thoughts as he scoops everything up and puts it in his beach bag muttering to himself how he is being silly about this whole thing.

He is your friend.

And that’s that.

His phone vibrates on his dresser startling him, as he zips the bag closed and grabs it.

You: I have all the goods we need! I’m so excited for our beach day Kookie. Text me when you want me to head over. Might take a bit because of Saturday traffic.

Jungkook smiles at your pet name for him even though you have used it a million times and he quickly texts you back letting you know he was ready and you could come over whenever.

Jungkook’s vehicle had more storage space so you were going to drive to his place and he was going to drive to the beach. Plus his car had a sunroof which you absolutely adored and you often put your hands above your head like you were on a rollercoaster to feel the wind between your fingers.

It made him smile every time and made his heart pound in his chest.

Those were the moments of pure bliss where he felt his heart would burst out of his chest at all the feelings he had for you.

Feelings he was still trying to desperately hide.

Namjoon of course found out one night when Jungkook had one too many drinks and spilled his guts about it. Namjoon was patient with Jungkook as he told the entire story, how the crush came out of nowhere, and how he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose you.

As always Namjoon was the voice of reason and told Jungkook just to talk to you about it and Jungkook shot that idea down right away.

Namjoon promised to keep his mouth shut until Jungkook was ready to tell you himself which Jungkook vowed he would never… ever do. Your friendship was very important. He would take this secret with him to the grave.

With nothing else to do until you arrived, Jungkook shucked his beach bag off his bed and laid down.

He threw an arm over his face and let out a frustrated groan.

How the hell was he supposed to survive having a beach day with you? You were so beautiful. So sexy in your little sundresses, seeing you in a bathing suit would destroy him.

His mind wandered to last week when you met him for a lunch break you forced him to have because he was working so hard that he started skipping meals.

You showed up to his studio with food in hand and a little black sundress with small white and pink flowers scattered all over it.

The straps were so tiny and delicate and tied together with small pink bows and Jungkook couldn’t help but stare, as you brushed past him to put the food on the small coffee table he kept in his studio.

As you leaned down the dress climbed higher up your body, exposing more of your legs and the apex of your thighs to his hungry gaze and he couldn’t help it.

The blood rushed to his cock so quickly he felt dizzy as he scrambled to sit on the couch before you noticed he popped a boner because of you in that damn sundress.

You didn’t seem to notice as you sat next to him and chatted about your day as you ate alongside him.

Jungkook tried to focus on what you were saying, he really did, but his eyes kept trailing down to your thighs and how tanned they looked due to all the time you spent outside.

What he wouldn’t give to pull that dress up higher and expose more of yourself to him. What would you do if he got his fingers between those legs? How would you sound moaning out his name as he plunges a finger inside?

Back in the present time Jungkook groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hardly hear the sounds of the lawnmower outside, or the kids screaming down the block as blood was pounding in his ears and he looked down with a grimace as he was hard in his swim trunks.

Achingly hard.

Just the memory of you in that dress alone made his cock fill rapidly and the bulge was evident as his cock stretched the material.

Now was not the time to pop a boner as you were going to be showing up soon but he felt like if he didn’t take care of it now it would never go down so he slowly lifted his hips to shuck off his swim shorts throwing them somewhere on the floor and freeing his aching cock.

His cock sat hard and heavy on his stomach as the head of it was a flushed red color. Jungkook took his time tracing his tattooed hand down his body, shivering when the air conditioning turned on, turning his nipples hard as he finally made his way to his cock.

He circled his cock which twitched in his hand and he got to work.

He threw his head back and imagined what would happen if he did lift your dress higher that day.

How you would stare at him all wide-eyed and shocked as he exposed your pussy. How you would be wet and throbbing for him. He would of course ask for permission before touching you and you would admit you’ve wanted this for ages.

Jumgkook sped up his movements on his cock, flicking his wrist over the cockhead and smearing his precum down his heated shaft. He always got so messy and wet when he imagined you and the glide felt amazing.

In his mind’s eye, you were grabbing his arm for support as his other hand explored your pussy. He would part your pussy lips so gently and you would be soaked for him. You would arch up into his fingers and beg for his touch as he would finally coat his finger in your wetness.

He would pop it into his mouth and taste you as you would whine and beg him for more.

The taste of you would explode on his tongue and he knew the second it touched his tongue it was over for him. He would never want to taste anyone else but you.

Jungkook sped up his movements once again as his muscles started to strain. He was getting close as his thumb flicked over his cockhead sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He would lay you back on the couch in his studio and fuck you open with one finger. You would be so wet for him, so needy for him. Your dress hiked up to expose yourself, one strap falling off your shoulder as you whine out his name.

Jungkook tightens his grip on his cock and begins to fuck up into his fist. His head is thrown back and his dark hair is a mess on his pillow. He bites his bottom lip to keep from whining your name out loud. His cock is throbbing in his hand, hot and hard and so desperate to release all over his twitching stomach.

He wants to make you cum apart all over his fingers. He wants to tease you, taste you, fill you up with his cock, and make you moan his name.

His hand speeds up as his hips fuck his cock wildly up into his hand.

Sweat is starting to form on his brow and he is close, so close he can feel his muscles tighten and his balls draw up. His cock is a sticky mess as he is leaking so much precum the glide is impeccable and the wet sounds are obscene.

“Y/N.” He groans unable to keep his noises contained as the muscles on his arms are bulging as he rubs his hand across his frenulum collecting the mess there to slide it down his shaft.

Jungkook can feel the beginning of his orgasm as he cries out your name and tightens his hand around his shaft jerking his cock quickly as the pressure builds.

He is right there.

His balls tighten, and he can feel his shaft contracting and spasming. His heart rate is rapid and the hair on his arms stands up.

“Kook?” He hears a soft small voice call and his eyes snap open as panic seizes his body. He released his cock to grab a pillow to cover himself as his head whips around to see you standing there in one of your sundresses looking horrified.

Holy fuck.

“Y/N!” He cries out, shoving the pillow over his cock which is still thrumming with need and twitching painfully as his orgasm is still just right there but you are also standing....right there.

He sits up against the headboard and puts a hand over his racing heart as he stares at you wide-eyed in absolute horror.

He was jerking off to you. His best friend. Moaning your name. And you walked in on him caught in the act.

Holy fuck he was so fucked.

“I-texted you to let you know I was here but you didn’t answer. I remembered where you keep the spare key so I-l-Let myself in.” You stammered unable to look away as Jungkook wished the bed and floor would swallow him hole.

You had driven over so excited to see Jungkook today and you even wore your best sundress just for him.

The pale blue one with the small bow in between the built-in cups.

You made sure to get all his favorite foods and snacks as you knew he had been working himself to death and you wanted to treat him.

He didn’t answer your knocks or your texts so you figured maybe he had his music on too loud once again and didn’t hear you.

You put the key in the door and were met with utter silence, which was a little weird but you figured he was in the back getting the umbrellas or something so you made your way through his apartment until you heard a noise.

A soft grunt that had you worried. Maybe he hurt himself? Maybe he was sick?

You flew to his bedroom and there he was.

All sprawled out on the bed with his shorts discarded on the floor. He was still wearing his white tee shirt and had his head thrown back against his pillows with his legs spread wide exposing himself to you.

You knew you should leave, you knew this was a private moment but you couldn’t help but stare as he worked his cock with his hand.

He was big and even from where you stood you could see how wet his cock was and how slick he sounded when he jerked it.

You knew you should step away, maybe stand outside until it was over but you were rooted to the spot as you watched his hips arch up and the filthiest moans leave his pink parted lips.

And when he moaned your name

Dear god when he moaned your name you felt your own arousal pool in your bikini shorts as you gripped the door for support.

Jungkook moaning your name.

He was fantasizing about you

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever met and he chose to fantasize about you when he jerked off.

The whole thing felt unreal.

“I-I- You… you weren’t supposed to-I didn’t mean for you to- fuck.” Jungkook stuttered as you put your bag down on the floor and entered his room.

His large dark eyes widened when you made your way to the bed and you could see his fingers flexing on the decorative pillow he threw over his lap to cover himself.

“I-fuck- I’m so sorry you probably h-h-ate me and think I’m a pervert- I-I can-explain.” He stammers cheeks flushed with the prettiest blush you had ever seen.

Jungkook continued to stammer out apologies as you stared down at him in shock. His hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead and his chest was heaving. You could see his muscles straining through the white material of his shirt and his hand held the pillow firmly over his cock.

Was he still hard?

Was he still horny?

Was he actually jerking off to you?

“Y/N please say something. Please.” He begs in a small voice as your eyes finally meet his and he looks in anguish over the whole thing.

“Were you…jerking off….to me?” You ask in awe as he flushes further and sits up higher on the bed.

His teeth bite into his lower lip as you sit softly on the edge of the bed.

“I-I can-I-” He stammers.

“Yes or No Jungkook?” You ask firmly.

His eyes widen and he nods. He hangs his head in shame and you feel your pussy throb.

Jungkook, your best friend, the guy you have had a crush on since high school was hot and bothered because of you.

It made you beam in excitement.

“Show me.” You say boldly as his eyes snap to yours and widen in shock.

“I-Uh- W-What?” He says.

“I want to see you finish. Or help you finish. Show me, Koo?” You plead as his tongue comes out to lick at his lip and the tension in the room is thick like the humidity outside.

“You don’t hate me? Or think I’m creepy? You’re not going to yell at me?” He says doe eyes wide as his hand twitches on the pillow again.

“Of course not. Masturbation is normal. I’m honored you’re even thinking of me in the first place.” You say as you slowly run your hand down his forearm.

“I died. I must have died or hit my head cause there is no way this is real. Holy fuck.” He mutters as you giggle and Jungkook can feel his cock, which had gone immediately soft at being caught, start to thicken behind the pillow.

“This is real. And I gotta admit. It’s hot as fuck you think of me when you touch yourself.” You admit as he blinks shyly at you.

“Can’t help it. These sundresses…fuck.” He says fingering the fabric of your dress before running a shaky hand through his long hair.

“Show me, Koo? Please.” You beg and he nods slowly as his teeth bite into his lower lip harshly.

“Don’t bite your lip Koo you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” You whisper as he lets out a breathy nervous laugh.

“Can’t help it. ‘m nervous.” He admits.

“No need to be nervous. It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem. The girl I’m fantasizing about is right in front of me wanting to see me jerk off. I’m so pent up I’m scared I’m gonna bust a nut all over this pillow.” He whimpers as you giggle.

“Then you better get to work. Show me? Please, Koo? Wanna see up close.”

He nods and removes the pillow baring his half-hard cock to you.

You gasp when you see it and Jungook covers his eyes in embarassment.

Even half-hard his cock is beautiful. The head is flushed a pretty pink color and there is a vein running up it that makes your mouth water.

“So pretty Koo.” You praise, as he removes his hands and stares at you in awe.

He slowly takes his cock in his hand and begins to jerk it. You watch as the flushed head disappears between his fist and how he takes his time with himself, flicking his wrist occasionally making pretty beads of precum leak out the slit.

It doesn’t take long for him to get to full hardness and he lets go of his cock to show you how it smacks against his stomach.

He is rock hard and leaking and the vein that winds up his cock is a lot more prominent now as the head of his cock is now a pretty flushed red color and shiny, so shiny.

“Fuck Koo you are so big.” You whimper as without warning you wrap your hand around his cock and his hips arch up into your touch as a broken moan spills from his lips.

“Can I?” You ask with a quirk of your eyebrow as he nods frantically and you snicker.

You take your time with him jerking him the way you saw him do to himself. You flick your wrist when you get to the top and you use your thumb to smear the precum over the head of his cock and his slit. He is so velvety and warm under your touch you let out a soft whine as you jerk him.

Jungkook is a mess below you. His chest is heaving, his muscles are straining and he is trying his best to hold back and not cum the second you get your hands on him.

“F-Fuck I hate to say this b-but ‘m close.” He whines in panic.

“Can you hold back a little longer so I can taste you?” You ask innocently as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes trying to take deep breaths and stop the incessant throbbing of his cock. His denied orgasm from earlier was making him needy and he needed to calm himself down before he made a mess all over your fist.

You lean down and slowly give the head of his cock kitten licks. Jungkook moans above you and you grin as you finally take him into your mouth.

Your mouth is hot and wet and everything Jungkook had ever wanted as you suck him down, bobbing your head and humming around him, causing vibrations to run up his shaft.

With your other hand, you jerk him, picking up speed as you suck him off and when your tongue flicks over his frenulum Jungkook is a goner.

He croaks out your name and holds back your hair as he cums down your throat. No warning could have pulled you off his cock as you swallow everything he has to give, slowing your strokes and milking his cock for all that he has.

“S-Sensitive. Fuck.” He whines out as you pull off and open your mouth to show him proudly that you swallowed it all.

“You are trying to kill me. Holy fuck.” He breathes out as you giggle and curl up next to him, lacing your fingers together and waiting for him to come down from his high.

You can feel the uncomfortable wetness between your thighs but you don’t worry about that now as you bury your face in his chest and listen to his breathing settle.

“I’m dead. Like I’m actually dead. No way that happened.” He pondered as you giggle and pinch his side

“Ouch! What was that for!” He cries out as you sit up and smirk at him.

“Dead people can’t feel pinches. You are very much alive.” You say smiling down at him as sits crisscrossed on the bed and stares at you.

“You-You jerked me off.” He says

“I did.” You reply with a smug smile.

“I- I imagined I was fingering you and suddenly you were here…jerking me off.” He wonders aloud.

“Mm, you fingering me. That’s hot,” you say feeling your pussy throb.

“But we were friends aren’t we?” He asks in a small timid voice.

“Friends can jerk each other off. Though... I would like to be more than friends.” You reply feeling your heart racing in your chest.

“Like…fuck buddies?” He replies as his tongue comes out to lick at his lips and you can’t help but laugh.

“I was thinking we could go on a date.”

His eyes bulge and his cheeks turn a beautiful dusty pink.

“I’ve liked you for years now Koo. I didn’t think you felt the same but walking in on you… moaning my name…. Fuck.” You say running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

And for a breath, you are worried you read the whole thing wrong and fucked this friendship up.

But then he leans forward, tangles his hands in your hair, and kisses you.

And you kiss him right back.

The kiss is passionate and wild. You press your lips hard into his and pour out all those days and weeks and months of looking at him and wishing he was yours. Jungkook moans against your mouth which gives you access to swipe your tongue along his lower lip as he groans.

“Fuc-Fuck I feel the same way.” He mutters against you as he flips you over with ease and has you pinned to the bed.

You giggle when you look up and see him overtop of you, his eyes wide with disbelief and his lips red and swollen.

He swoops in and kisses you again as you run your hands down his strong back and arch up into his touch. His lips move with yours and you boldly wrap your legs around his back to push his crotch into yours making him grunt against your mouth.

“Let me make you feel good.” He groans as you nod.

Jungkook fixes the pillows behind your head and gets to work peppering kisses on your cheeks and down your neck causing you to arch up into his touch and moan.

You are beyond needy at this point and when he tugs at the straps of your dress to kiss at your shoulders you moan out his name and flutter your eyes closed.

His lips feel like heaven and when he finally had enough kissing he kneels above you and you open your eyes.

“I never thought this day would come. You in a sundress, laying in my bed. Fuck I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He says as you smile up at him with adoration.

Jungkook’s warm hands come to rest on your thighs and he slowly and carefully lifts up your dress to expose your body to him.

His eyes widen when he takes in the black bathing suit bottoms you picked out which are modest enough for the beach but have two tantalizing ties at the sides holding the material together.

“Thank god I got you in my bed. It would have been so difficult seeing you in these bottoms without getting hard.” He admits as his hand toys with the ties and when he finally unties them both and pulls the fabric off of your body you are panting below him.

You snicker when you see his cock bobbing between his legs at the sight of you and he wraps a hand around himself to stroke his cock to ease some of the ache.

“Hey, you already got your turn!” You tease as he releases his cock and grins sheepishly at you.

“May I?” He asks and you nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his fingers part your folds and he swears under his breath.

“Fucking soaked for me. Just like I imagined.”

He gathers your wetness and brings it up to your clit as he rubs you in slow circles causing you to arch off the bed and whine out his name.

Jungkook continues to circle your clit agonizingly slow and he snickers when you beg him for more.

“How are we going to have sex and make it to the beach if you're going this slow.” You say as his eyes widen and his movements halt.

“Koo.” You whine as you grab at his wrist to get him to do something…anything.

“You want to have sex?” He asks shyly as you stare down at him.

“I’d like to. Only if you want to though. I’m okay with this too.” You admit as you see his cock twitching between his legs again.

“I want to have sex with you.” He says as he pulls you in for another rough kiss and his hands return to your pussy with enthusiasm.

“Can I slip a finger inside? Gotta prep you for my cock.” He growls against your lips as you nod and he gathers more wetness on his middle finger before slipping it inside your tight wet heat.

You cry out his name and grab onto his bicep as he thrusts his finger in and out of your body. He wastes no time adding another finger and the stretch makes you whine but he is careful and takes his time until you are moaning again and begging him to move.

He scissors his fingers causing you to flutter your eyes closed and arch up into his touch. Your whole body is on fire and when he curls his fingers you feel every muscle in your body start to tense as you grind down on them desperate for more.

You blindly reach down for his cock which is now standing hard and proud and when you circle it Jungkook hisses and uses his free hand to swat yours away.

You open your eyes to frown at him but he curls his fingers up inside you again and you are seeing stars.

“I’ll cum if you jerk me off Y/N. I swear this is so hot I’m so fucking hard right now. Don’t wanna cum around your fist.” he explains as you grin.

“Then fuck me and cum inside me instead.” You offer as he removes his fingers and you open your eyes in time to see him pop them in his mouth.

You gasp as he licks your slick off his fingers moaning at the taste and your pussy throbs impatiently as he takes his time.

“Koo please.” You beg as he finally gets his fingers clean and he hops off the bed to retrieve a condom.

You watch as he rips open the packet and rolls the condom down his length. He strokes himself and whimpers, which makes you smile to know he is just as desperate as you are

“How do you want it?” He asks hovering above you, lips inches from your own.

“Doesn’t matter just want you.”

He carefully drags your body to the end of the bed and you giggle when he opens your legs and wraps them around his torso.

You stare up at him as he takes his time to tie back his hair.

“Koo. Don’t tease.” You whine impatiently as he finally gets his hair tied back and he grabs the base of his cock to position himself at your wet folds.

“I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.” He admits as he teases your slit with his cockhead soaking it in your wetness and you whine out in impatience.

“I don’t care about you lasting. Just fuck me already before I do it myself.” You beg as he finally slips his cockhead inside and in one smooth thrust he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and wince at the stretch and Jungkook leans down to press soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Doing so well for me. Deep breaths now. So fucking tight around my cock. You are so wet for me. Fuck you feel heavenly.” He praises as he shallowly thrusts inside of you letting your body adjust to his girth and giving you all the time you need.

“Baby, are you already throbbing around me?” He teases as you open your eyes to playfully smack his arm and he shoots you his classic bunny smile.

“Sh-Shut up.” You plead as he begins to give you harder and deeper thrusts and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He feels so good inside of you. The way his cock drags against your walls has you crying out his name and when he starts to really thrust deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fu-Fuck Koo. Feel so good.” You cry out as he holds your legs steady and thrusts his cock inside you, arching his hips so he can hit your G-spot with every thrust.

“Wh-Why are you so good at this what the fuck?” You grit out as he chuckles above you and pushes your legs higher so he can hit deeper inside of you.

“Are you a-actually mad at me for being good at sex?” He taunts you as you decide to get back at him by squeezing his cock with your walls which makes him grunt and fuck you harder and faster.

“No, I’m m-mad we waited so long to do this. Fuck.”

Jungkook picks up speed on his thrusts all the while you are powerless on the bed as you take what he gives you. You claw at the bedspread and moan his name as you feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach and by the way Jungkook is thrusting you know he is close too.

“C-Close. Koo. Please. M-More.” You beg not even able to make a coherent sentence but lucky for you Jungkook knows what you mean as he brings a free hand down to rub at your clit and you cry out his name and grind down on his cock desperately trying to meet his thrusts and chase your ever building high.

Your whole body is on fire, everything is strung tight and you can feel your pussy start to spasm around his cock.

“C-Close.” You cry out in warning as he thrusts into you with such force it pushes you up the bed.

“Cum for me Y/N. Cum around my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He demands and you lose it.

You arch up and close your eyes as you shout out his name and cum hard around his cock. You feel your walls clamp around him as Jungkok groans and throws his head back cumming hard into the condom as your walls keep his cock from thrusting inside of you.

Waves of pleasure roll off you both as Jungook releases your legs and slumps down over top of you keeping his cock inside until you are done riding out your high.

The only sounds in the room are both of your heavy breathing as he finally slips out and leaves to go get cleaned up.

You feel weightless as you lay on the bed and press a hand to your heart as you try to even out your breathing.

Jungkook comes back with water and a warm towel and takes his time opening your legs and cleaning you up as you stare at the ceiling in a post-sex haze.

He lays down beside you and you curl up into his chest as he strokes your hair and praises you for how well you did.

There is a welcome ache between your legs from how roughly he fucked you but you find you don’t mind too much as he wraps his arms around you caging you against his chest.

“That was incredible.” He says as you finally open your eyes to look at him.

His hair was coming out of its bun and tendrils were falling in front of his eyes. You reach up to push them away and smile. He was so handsome.

“That was very incredible holy shit we shouldn’t have waited so long.” You say as you both hear a noise outside and look up to see the sky had grown dark and a heavy rain was coming down.

“Oh shit.” You giggle as you both sit up and stare at the rainstorm outside.

“Guess no beach day for us.” He says smoothing down your hair as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“How about a movie day instead? I still brought snacks and drinks.” You say as he nods and carries you off the bed to the living room and you giggle the entire way.

Permanent taglist

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

@stayonmars

@marihoneywk

@mustbeaweasleyginger

@xmspurple7x

@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

[bleedingoptimism]

Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.

He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.

Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.

He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.

🎮🤲💖

Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.

'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.

He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.

He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.

Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.

🎮🤲💖

A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.

He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.

He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.

Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.

The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  

Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.

When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.

But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,

"Steve, what the fuck?"

‘Oh, shit…’

“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,

“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”

He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”

“Please, let me explain-”

“Steve-”

“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”

“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.

“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.

“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,’ he thinks.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.

“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.

They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.

Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.

He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.

A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.

Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’

Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.

Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”

He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.

In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,

“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 

He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.

But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.

It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 

Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.

Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.

“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.

Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.

Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’

Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-

Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 

And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.

Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”

He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”

“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

“Broken?” Steve whispers.

Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.

A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 

𝒻𝒾𝓃

coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕

[natti-ice]

Hi lovely!

Could I ask for a Benedict fic where him and reader get pretty messy with the his paints? 💕🥹

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, nudity, sensual touching, kissing, implied sex (1k words)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

You had met Benedict at a social event this past season and the two of you got on very well, any time you saw each other in passing you had to stop and make conversation. You felt at ease with him, he was so down to Earth unlike most of the uptight socialites of the city. You were very fond of him in general and it seemed he felt the same about you. Not to mention the fact you were also very attracted to him. He often spoke to you about his art and his passion for finding the beauty in life, he showed you his work book of sketches, all of random things he found beautiful even if most people don't.

Today on a casual stroll in the park, Benedict casually asked you if you would like to be the subject of one of his paintings, you had never thought of modeling before but it intrigued you. You were always curious on how people viewed you and this would show you his perspective of you, so you agreed. He brought you back to his studio and showed you some of paintings he had hanging around by artists that inspired him, then he lead you over to the center of the room where he had a large sheet of white paper spread across the floor. You assumed it was to protect his floors from any paint drippings but you were quite wrong.

"This is our canvas for today, my lady" Benedict smiles

You chuckle and furrow your brows a bit "I'm sorry what? Are you going to draw a life size version of me?"

"No, dear" he laughs softly "I'm going to paint with you. I want to use your body as a brush, if that's okay with you of course" he adds that last part in quickly to reassure you can pull out at any time. There's a sparkle in his eyes as he explains how he wants to cover your nude bodies in paint and roll around making an abstract design. "So, what do you say?" His voice is filled with hope, he desperately wants you to say yes.

You think about his offer for a moment, the thought of being naked with him excites you but also makes you very nervous. You have only known him a short amount of time but you trust him a lot, you nod with a soft smile "okay, I'm in."

"Excellent" he grins and claps his hands together once "you can get undressed while I prepare the paints." he gives you a comforting smile then turns around and walks to the back of his studio where he keeps his paint. You slowly start to undress, you feel the butterflies in your stomach intensifying as you shed each piece of clothing. Finally naked, you fold your clothes neatly and set them on a small sofa nearby. The window of the studio is cracked out letting in a soft breeze, you feel goosebumps grow on your bare skin and your nipples become erect.

A few moments later, Benedict came back carrying a tray with small cans full of paint "alright here we are-" he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you, his eyes wide in surprise as he takes all of you in "wow... you're absolutely breathtaking" his voice is so soft it's almost a whisper

You chuckle nervously, you feel your whole body start to heat up "um, thank you, sir" you wrap your arms around your body, very aware of how exposed you are. He steps closer to you and sets the tray on a small table, he picks up a can filled with red paint and holds it up to you.

"May I?" He asks for permission, you nod slightly giving him full access to your body. He dips two fingers into the paint and slowly runs them along your collar bone, it slowly starts to drip down your front as your body temperature melts the paint. He works his way down your body, streaking the red all over you, his fingertips ever so slightly graze your nipples sending a shiver down your spine. "Beautiful" he whispers softly before setting the paint canister down and began to strip his clothes off.

You watched him closely as each article of clothing flew from his body leaving him bare in front of you. He gripped your arm softly and turned you around, he slowly poured some of the paint down your back letting it cascade down your back. He presses himself against your back slightly, you can feel his breath tickling your neck as he began to place soft hot kisses along the side. He used one hand to rub the red all over your back, a gasp caught in your throat as his larges hands rubbed soft circles on your ass.

When he finished he turned you around to face him, he picked up a can of blue paint and handed it to you "now you do me" his voice soft but laced with something more sensual. You take the can and start to smear blue all over his body, trying desperately to avoid his intimate areas as best as possible even if it was staring right at you. Once he was blue from the neck down he gently took your hand and brought you down to the paper on the floor. "Lay back, darling," he instructed playfully "we're gonna roll around a bit" he chuckles before rolling on top of you, his arms wrapped around your body as he goes in for a kiss.

Things escalated quickly from there, paint began to adorn the paper as you two made love. Shades of blue and red mixed together leaving streaks of purple behind, hand prints of different colors could be seen throughout the paper. Moans filled the studio, there was also the occasional sound of paper ripping when things became too intense. When it was all said and done, Benedict framed the work and even put it up in a gallery. People always asked how he created such an abstract piece of art, he came up with a story of how he just started throwing paint at the canvas. Only you and him ever knew the truth.

Tags: @booknerdlife

Join a tag list!

[moonstruckme]

Also would love more of the art student x stem student peter writing,, again totally just self indulgent here but I adore their dynamic I could go on forever, like study dates but she’s working and Peter hangs around revising notes in her studio and they both just accompany each other AGHHH I could think about them for ages

-🍁🤭

Thanks lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 727 words

Your hand comes into view, taking Peter’s attention from his notes for the first time in hours as you slide a paper plate stacked with pizza slices towards him. 

“They were out of stir fry,” you say, “but they let me take extra pizza since they felt bad.” 

Peter blinks, realizing his eyes are dry and achy. “When did you get this?”

“Just now,” you say, though it sounds like a question. Your brows twitch towards each other, somewhere between bemused and concerned. “Pete, I’ve been gone for like a half hour. You didn’t notice?”

Peter blinks again, hard. He gives his head a little shake. “No, I, uh…I guess I was too distracted. Thanks for the pizza.” 

“Course.” You kiss the top of his head as you round the table, sitting down across from him with a couple slices of your own. Peter watches as you zone back into your work, a pensive frown coming to your face. You’re in the beginning stages of a new project, and the last few hours have been a frustrating cycle of erasing, sketching, and erasing again. Peter doesn’t get how you can even see through all the faded, half-removed lines on your page. 

“How’s it going?” he asks, tentative.

Your frown worsens. “Not bad,” you say, in a tone that says not great, either. “I’ve landed on an idea, but it just…it doesn’t feel perfect. I don’t want to start and then have to change my mind again.” 

“Didn’t you say that’s how it usually goes?” he prompts. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, and you sound so upset about it that Peter has to—just has to—reach across the table and take your hand. You offer him a small smile and return the squeeze he gives your fingers.

“Want a break?” he asks you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I just took my break,” you remind him. 

It’s difficult to love someone and see them treat themselves how you treat yourself. Peter would count a run to the dining hall as a break, too, but he doesn’t like it when you do it. Still, that doesn’t give him a lot of ground for argument.

“Then can I see?” he tries, hoping talking it through will make you feel better.

You chew your lip for a second before nodding, going to slide your paper towards him. 

“Nope, hold on.” Peter stands up on his seat, stepping one gangly leg and then the other over the table before lowering himself into the chair beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, hugging you so that your face is squished against his bicep. “Better,” he says. “Go on.” 

You laugh at his over-the-top affection, but don’t move away, going into the details of your original idea versus what you’ve come up with on paper. The abstract always falls short of the concrete, Peter knows that, and yet he feels your disappointment in your inability to fulfill the full scope of your vision acutely. You grow more animated as you talk, eventually bringing the paper closer and sketching while he watches. Peter suggests his own solutions as you work. They’re useless of course, but he knows that having a sounding board helps you think, so he’ll keep the conversation going any way he can. To your credit, you don’t tell him all the ways he’s wrong. You only hmm and huh and then do your idea anyway. 

After a while, you come up with something you’re happier with. It’s still not perfect, but Peter reminds you again of your own tenets; that it never will be, and your only job is to do the best you can with what you have. You’re smiling by now, so it’s a win in his book. 

“You gonna talk me through your biochem notes now?” you ask him cheerily. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your head. “You’re a gem for offering, but we both know you’ll get a headache.” 

“I’ll eat my pizza while you talk,” you propose, picking up a now cold slice of your dinner. “C’mon, it’s only fair.” 

Peter grins at you, your face lined with tiredness and hand stained with silver pencil lead but eyes alight with that fizzy energy you get from creation. “Okay,” he concedes. “But when we go home, we’re watching the most mindless show we can find on TV.”

[silentglassbreak]

Please please , write something. Noah and Lily, she is designer and painter, they are working together on design for new album or merch, or something like that. She is redhead, have freckles, have a lot of tattoos, like to wearing skirts and sundresses. thank you! I love your work so so much 💔���🥲

Bb you are my first ask! So, naturally, you have my undying love and affection for eternity!

Also, this physical description is giving me such inspiration. My best friend has a very similar physical appearance, so this will be fun!! (I just finished this and OMG this got away from me. I did not intend for this to be this long...I really got into this one. I hope you enjoy!)

So let’s get into this, shall we?

Rating: Mature (for language)

Warnings: None.

Into The Ocean

What did I think would happen when I moved to New York City? That I would get here, put a few paintings in some galleries, and suddenly I’d be making millions? How fucking insane am I?

My inner monologue continued as I catatonically stirred my bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes, moping heavily.

It had been six months since I moved here on a whim and a breath of a dream, thinking that with my ‘sparkling personality’, ‘adorably good looks’, and ‘raw talent’ I’d be a success so quick. These days, however, I spent a lot of time wishing I had stayed back home in Hartford, in my Mom’s two bedroom home, with my dog and my normalcy.

No, couldn’t be me. I had to go off with delusions of grandeur, and get myself a full time job as a desk girl at a law firm (which sucked), and had virtually no time to paint like I wanted. My studio apartment in Queens was big enough for me; a bed, a small table, and my paint supplies. I had a clothes rack for my small wardrobe, and a television on the wall adjacent to my bed. My minimal belongings were strewn haphazardly around with no real method. It felt much like my life - off kilter.

Frustrated, I decided to get off the bed, still holding my bowl, and stared at the cereal floating sadly in the milk. It looked so pathetic, the same as I felt.

My eyes wandered to the floor, then the edge of the bed, and eventually to the right of it, where the seven-foot by four-foot canvas sat.

I had that particular canvas since my first day here in New York. I swore that canvas would hold my best work. The piece that would change everything for me. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch it until I was certain I knew what it would be, and was ready.

But now? Staring at it? It mocked me. Day in, day out, it reminded me that I was just another struggling artist in this God forsaken jungle of a city made of concrete and exploitation. It laughed at me. It told me I had failed.

Without realizing it, my arm shot the bowl in my hand clear across the room, the milk and flakes splattering all over my bed, and eventually spraying the canvas. It left a sickly gray hue against the stark white vastness behind it, giving me a sense of anger. A sense of rage.

Climbing up onto my bed, my feet digging into the mattress while I reached for the shelf above it, grabbing random paints from the bowl they lived in. I hastily twisted the caps off of each, my breathing becoming frantic as I felt the sudden anxiety surge through me.

Once the tubes were open, I didn’t bother with my palette, or my brushes, I just squeezed the tubes, three in each hand, until they all sprayed like firehoses over the canvas, all in varying shades of blue and black. I hadn’t even realized I only grabbed blue and black paint.

Finally, after several minutes of raging, smearing paint across the canvas with no structure, using my palms and fingers, I stepped back. The anger and fire in my chest had dulled. I took a step back, and caught a glimpse of myself in my wall-length mirror across the room, and cringed.

Navy blue paint streaked my pale yellow shorts and faded UC t-shirt. I had a large glob of black paint on my face near my hairline, turning that spot of my red waves a midnight color. I needed a shower.

Now that I had thoroughly ruined my clothes, bed, walls, and canvas, I elected to head for the bathroom to clean myself up before the process of cleaning my apartment.

However, as I turned away from the canvas, I caught a sight of it in my peripheral, and something in my brain sparked. The blues and blacks, which turned dark grey when mixed. The lines and swirls they fell in. The non-uniformity of it all.

Waves.

Ocean.

Chaos.

And like that, I was climbing back up on my bed, ready to finish my painting.

It was after 5AM, and I only had three hours before I had to be back at work before I finished. When I did, I gasped at what I saw in front of me.

It was superb.

The waves crashed everywhere as the moon hung low in the sky, storm clouds covering. Amidst the maelstrom that was the ocean, there was one large, beautiful, impossibly sad octopus, thrashing in the waves, bleeding from the eyes.

The octopus was a deep gray, blending but also naturally contrasting the color of the waves, deep crimson blood running from its desperate eyes.

It was painful. It was despondent. It was powerful.

This was it.

-

Forty-two days had passed, and I was struggling to breathe as my hands trembled where they sat in my pockets, watching the droves of people walk by me. I did my best to smooth down the skirt of my lime-green sundress and tugged at the lapels of my denim jacket. My hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, leaving my waves to cascade down my back loosely, out of my face.

The sun above provided a warmth that was needed, but I had forgotten SPF today, which meant I would likely have a fresh batch of freckles on my cheeks to add to all the others. Today had to be the day. Something in my skin told me it did.

I had been to three art fairs, two open galleries, and a fine arts convention, trying to get something, anything sold.

Three days after I finished my piece, I was told that Burgen & Black no longer needed my position, so this was all I had right now. This, and the three hundred dollars my mom loaned me when I told her I was a little short on rent.

Rent wouldn’t be an issue soon if I didn’t sell anything, as cardboard boxes are real cheap.

This open fair was in Central Park, mid-September, so it was comfortable outside. The sun was getting low, causing a golden sky to reach overhead. I had been here all day, and was beginning to feel defeated.

I hadn’t sold as much as one print. One painting.

After staring at the crowds for another twenty-minutes, I finally decided to start packing up. It was a long bus ride back to Queens, and I would be too cold after dark.

Stuffing a handful of my prints into my portfolio bag, I huffed at myself, shaking my head.

Maybe it was time to go home. Maybe being an artist just wasn’t where I fit. Maybe I did need to reconsider college. It wasn’t too late. Twenty-six was an easy age, right?

“Is this all you?”

A sharp, deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making me spin on my heel, to see who was standing at my booth, scanning the pieces set up on the table.

The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He had at least a foot of height on me. I noticed next that he was covered everywhere in tattoos. The long expanse of his arms that led to the bit of his chest I could see behind his tank top was littered. It made my mouth dry.

His hair was short, hidden under a ball cap, sunglasses perched on his nose.

It took me a moment of staring before I realized he had asked me a question.

“Oh, uh,” I walked back to the table, standing directly in front of him. “yeah these are my works.”

He nodded, looking down at the table and flipping fingers through the prints.

“I like them. They’re different.”

I gave my best ‘please buy this’ smile, and nodded.

“Thank you. I just paint what I feel. It helps me deal.”

He smirked. “I get that.” His eyes came back up to my face. “Not the painting. I can’t do that. But having something to help you deal? I get that.”

That’s interesting. “Yeah? What do you use to deal?”

He flashed his teeth at me. “Music.”

Oh, brother. A musician. Any awe I was feeling was dissolving. I had yet to meet one that was worth his salt in anything, let alone carrying a tune.

“Ah, well, different animal, same results?” I tried not to sound disinterested.

“How much for the prints?”

I felt my lungs tighten. Money?!

“Ten, but it’s two for eighteen.”

He smirked. “What would a hundred get me?”

If I had not caught it quick enough, my eyes would have bugged out of my head. I stifled a cough to cover up my surprise.

“Uh,” I looked around. No one had purchased one hundred dollars of my work before. Not all at once. “Seven prints? Or four prints and a canvas or two? Depends on size.”

I pointed to the side of my table, there I had a cardboard box full of canvases. He glanced over, and turned so he could see better.

With a ‘hmph’, he squatted down and looked through them, nodding at some, disregarding others.

Eventually, he came back up and had two smaller canvases perched in his hands.

A painting I had done of ravens when I was sat in a cemetery one day for inspiration, and one of a dark room that held a single bright red wood chair. That had come to me in a dream.

“Okay, and I’ll take these four prints.” He handed me the laminated copies and gave me a sweet, polite smile.

“Sounds good, it’ll be a hundred even.”

“Can you take card?” My face fell. I couldn’t handle my rent and groceries, let alone a card reader.

He must have noticed, because he raised his eyebrows.

“Got Zelle?”

I nodded, pulling my phone out, a rush of relief washing over me. I gave him my phone number, and he pulled me up, transferring a cool one hundred dollars into my account. My stomach flipped. I was halfway to rent with my borrowed cash, and I still had two weeks before it was due.

It was the first shred of hope I had felt in a while.

“Noah!” A male voice called before a shorter man bounded up, and my eyes popped open.

Nick Folio, the drummer from Bad Omens, stood in front of my table, and I just about fell over with a stroke.

My mouth was hung open, in pure disbelief. It hadn’t even occurred to me who he had called for.

Folio held a plastic bag, having clearly grabbed something else from another table.

“There’s a guy selling homemade lures, dude. I bought six!” His teeth flashed in excitement, and my customer shook his head, smiling.

“You’re going to go broke buying those things.”

It was in that moment it dawned on me. That voice. Those tattoos. Those sinfully long fingers…

“Are you Noah Sebastian?” My words came out rushed, before I could stop them.

A sly grin fell over his lips. “Never heard of him.” He smoothly turned around, preparing to leave. “Thanks for the artwork.”

Folio gave me a small wave before following Noah. I was frozen.

I just met one half of Bad Omens. I had sold artwork to Noah Sebastian. He liked my art. I couldn’t breathe.

It took me a solid ten minutes before I could move, then packing my things and heading for the bus with my bag and box in arms, glancing around the park a few times for a familiar ball cap and forbidden fruit tattoo.

-

Nine days have passed since I unexpectedly met Noah Sebastian and Nick Folio, and it had been heavy on my mind until the stress of my rent became the reason I was laying awake at night.

With no other real resolve, my hunt for another nine-to-five not getting very far, I found myself trekking back to Central Park, ready to set up another table. I had fresh prints, and a dozen new canvasses to hopefully sell.

Now that we had crossed the threshold into October, the air was becoming more brisk. Today, I had elected to wear a floor-length forest green skirt with a white crop top, my black zip hoodie keeping my arms warm.

Today was more lively, giving me the opportunity to sell six prints and four canvasses by noon. I had made my rent, and was working on the power bill next. I had slightly raised my prices, given my circumstances, but I justified it with the need to survive.

Did I expect to run into him again? Not at all. In fact, I had convinced myself that my once in a lifetime chance to meet him had passed, and I should be excited about it. I was a Bad Omens fan, and had been since their second album. Their style of music was absolutely cathartic for me, giving me inspiration on more than one occasion while painting.

So, imagine my surprise, when I heard the same deep, smooth voice while I was reorganizing my canvasses.

“Back again?” This time, he wore a hoodie, beanie over his hair, and no sunglasses. His eyes were so big, so brown. I wanted to stare at them for hours.

I snorted. “Me? I could say the same to you?”

He leaned his hand on the table, smiling down at where I was crouched in front of my box.

“Selling a lot?”

Triumphantly grinning, I stood up, leaning my palms on the table. “Actually, yeah. It’s been weird. Central Park isn’t normally a hot spot for me, but today has been great!”

There was a flash of thirty-two stunning teeth, and I held myself upright.

“Maybe the word is spreading?”

“Maybe. Going to buy anything today?”

Raising a row, he scanned the table, tapping on one print. “This one is nice. How much?”

“Fifteen.”

His head snapped up, bewildered look on his face.

“It was ten last week?”

A sheepish blush crept over my face, and I tried to be sweet, brushing some of my loose hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, uh,” I couldn’t look right at him. “I had to raise the price a little. Living cost’s a bitch.” I shrugged.

He looked absolutely amused. “I see.” He pulled his phone out, and began tapping at something I couldn’t see. Afterwards, he picked up the print he chose, and gave me a two finger salute.

“Thanks a lot, Red.”

I smirked, feeling the phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it for now and approached a young couple who had walked over to my table. I did, however, watch as Noah left, making his way straight out of the park, not stopping at any other tables.

Finally home, I flopped down on my bed, and let my eyes fall closed for just a moment. I had called it early, feeling exuberant and deciding I deserved an afternoon to just relax, not painting, not trying to find a job, just snacking and watching Netflix.

Slipping my phone out of my pants pocket, I sat up, seeing some missed messages and scrolling through my notifications.

When I came to the last one, I nearly dropped my phone.

Zelle Notification: Noah Davis sent you $100.

My jaw dropped. He only bought one print. Why would he give me so much? He must have done it by mistake.

I bit my lip, bothered. I felt guilty, as if I had stolen the money from him. People were generous, but no one was that generous...right?

Staring at my Zelle account, I took a deep breath, and tapped on the transaction, pulling up the details. My finger hovered over Noah's name, wondering if I'd just get his email. After counting three calculated breaths, I finally tapped it, and a phone number flashed under the name.

Oh God, I had Noah Sebastian's phone number.

It was me being a good samaritan that caused me to pull up a text thread, and begin typing a message. The voice in the back of my head screamed at me that I could just sent eighty-five dollars back, and not invade his privacy by texting him.

But...

Me: Noah?

After hitting send, I physically tossed my phone on the mattress, and pulled my knees up to my chest, breathing erratic. I sat in absolute silence, waiting. Each passing second made my soul fall. What if it wasn't his personal cell he used for Zelle? He was a somewhat celebrity, after all. Would he really just casually give his number out to a random girl in the park?

My phone chimed, and I thought my carotid was going to blow out of my neck. Shaking fingers lifted the phone.

Noah: Who is this?

No confirmation of identity, but the number worked.

I went to type a response, telling him who I was, until I realized I never gave him my name. Sure, I had signed my art, but my signature was decently illegible.

Chewing my lip, I wracked my brain for the right response.

Me: Red.

The text bubbles had turned blue, and I saw he had received and read the message, but his type signal hadn't come up yet.

I was insane, I had to be.

Noah: LOL you mean Lily?

My blood ran cold.

Me: How do you know my name?

Noah: Well, much like my own, your Zelle tells me your first and last name.

I felt like such a moron. Of course it did.

Me: Oh, LOL yeah I didn't think of that.

I typed out another message, before I forgot.

Me: You sent me too much for that print!

Noah: No I didn't.

Me: You did. You sent me $100.

Me: I can send back $85.

Noah: Don't you dare.

This made me pause, already on the Zelle screen, his message flashing as a banner on top, making my fingers halt.

Me: Noah, I can't take that from you for one print.

Noah: ...because...?

Me: Because it's way too much! I appreciate it, but I'm not comfortable with that.

He waited a few minutes, his type bubble appearing and disappearing a few times.

Noah: So I'll buy something else from you, then.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: What would you like?

Noah: You have a portfolio online?

I sighed, embarrassed. My online presence was close to nonexistent. I had an Instagram, with all of five photos on it, and they were all four months old. I didn't have a website, not having the money to create one yet.

Me: I don't, I'm sorry.

Noah: Studio I can check out?

I stared at the screen, and laughed loudly. Oh, I've got a studio alright. Just not what he's thinking of.

Me: Not exactly. I'm a very small artist. I do all of my work out of my apartment.

Noah: Which is where?

My heart sunk. No way. Not letting him in my four hundred square foot, paint covered, disarrayed apartment.

Me: Queens.

I stayed vague.

Noah: Oh yeah, I'm over in Central Park West right now.

I sighed, relieved, and slightly disappointed.

Me: I can send you some pictures of my work? I'll just need a few to take them.

Noah: Can you just FaceTime? Seems faster.

How on Earth did we get here? I was going to FaceTime with a rockstar, and show him my paintings? This couldn't be real life.

Me: Sure. Call when you're ready.

I walked over to the corner of my studio that I kept my completed works in, a sheet thrown over the large canvas in an attempt protect the paint from the sun rays. I had yet to take that one anywhere yet. I hadn't found the right venue to sell.

After about five minutes, my phone began vibrating in my hand, and I looked down to see his name flashing.

My heart was beating so frantically, I was sure it would disconnect and come out of my throat.

I swiped the call open, and held the camera at the most flattering angle I could. Once the call connected, he sat on what appeared to be a staircase, somewhere outside, same beanie on his head from earlier, and was smiling into the camera.

"Hey!"

His enthusiasm surprised me, and I waved nervously, smiling back at him.

"Hi."

"Why do you look so uneasy? Are you being held hostage or something?"

My face fell, wildly confused by his comment. "What?"

His laugh echoed through the receiver, which made this weird jittery thing happen in my stomach.

"I'm just joking. You just look uncomfortable." He pulled his beanie down more, and I swallowed dryly, trying to giggle.

"Oh, yeah. No I'm good."

He sat back, elbow resting on the step behind him. "You sure?"

I felt like we weren't getting past this point. "Can I be honest?"

He didn't respond, just gestured for me to continue.

"I'm a fan. A big fan. So, yeah, I'm a little nervous."

His smile could've illuminated a small town.

"Oh yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. "Don't be. I'm just a guy."

Feeling rebellious, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. A guy who hundreds of thousands of girls would kill to FaceTime with."

This made him blush, so he looked down. "Ah, I don't know about that."

I decided to press my luck. "I do."

He furrowed his brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? So you're just that lucky, huh?"

This made me grin, in near disbelief. "Ah, the great Noah Sebastian. Cocky, huh?"

This made him laugh again, to which I joined.

"Nah. Like, I said, I'm just a guy. Really cool to know you're a fan, though." I nodded in response. "Ever seen us live?"

I shook my head. "Cost of living's a bitch. You think I can afford concert tickets?"

He shrugged. "Fair enough, dude."

"Anyways, you want me to show you the artwork?"

He agreed, and I flipped the camera around, scanning through the various pieces I had out in the corner. At his request, I would get closer to a piece, or pull it up to the camera. I watched as his eyes would get close to the phone, analyzing each canvas.

"I really like the desert painting." He was referring to a painting I had done that was slightly more abstract of a desert with random melted items such as longhorn skulls, cacti, and pieces of driftwood. They melted into the sand below.

"Okay. That would bring your total with the print earlier to fifty, since this one is bigger."

He nodded. "Do you have anything for fifty even?"

Biting my lip, I scanned my eyes, landing on a painting I had of a black cat, perched on the edge of a pond, cleaning it's paw, a skeletal hand reaching out of the water for it. The painting was done in nearly all neon colors, which was different for me.

"This one." I held it up in the camera.

"Oh dude, that's fucking sick." He pulled back from the camera. "I'll take it."

I chuckled. "Okay, do you want me to ship them?"

I flipped the camera back around, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "To Central Park West?"

I shrugged. "I could."

"Nah. I can get them from you. I don't live in New York and I leave back home for LA this weekend."

This made my chest sink only a little. "Right, I can ship them there if you want?"

He shook his head. "Let's meet up and I can get them?" I hesitated to respond, and I swear I saw a flash of concern on his face. "Unless you've got plans or something."

This made me smirk. "We didn't even say when? How would I know if I had plans?"

He huffed out a laugh, grabbing his beanie off of his head and smiling. "Sorry, you're right."

"When do you want to meet?"

"Tonight? I'm busy most of the week, but I'd really like to get my stuff soon."

Pondering this, I sat down on my bed, back to my art corner. "Where?"

"There's an Italian restaurant near my hotel. We can get dinner?"

I'm going to dinner with Noah fucking Sebastian?!

"Sure. Just text me the address?" He nodded in response. "What time?"

"Whatever time works best for you, Red."

I rolled my eyes. "You know my name, Noah."

A small wink, and he smiled. "I know, Lily. I just like your hair."

My face turned a deep shade of crimson, and I felt the urge to pull at my long red waves.

"Well, if that's the plan, I'm going to get ready. I have to leave a while before you to catch the subway."

I stood off the bed and went to turn, but he spoke and stopped me.

"Hey, what's that behind you?"

I turned, scanning. "What?"

"Under the sheet."

It occurred to me what he was referring to, and I waved it off.

"Just another piece."

"Can I see it?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I haven't shown anyone yet."

"So? I can be the first!" He seemed so excited, which made me giggle.

"It's an emotion piece. Not like the others."

He raised a brow. "Still not hearing why I can't see it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrugged. "Alright, but don't get too excited. It's not as clean and precise as my other work."

He just shrugged, and I reached over, pulling the sheet off the canvas, and flipped the camera.

I watched his eyes, scanning the screen over and over. He looked so enamored, I was confused. Was the connection bad?

"Noah? You okay?"

He leaned back, blinking. "Lily, that's fucking amazing!"

I laughed, stepping closer to the painting. "It's okay. It's a rage painting. Something I started in a fit, and kind of worked into what it is now."

"I can tell. You can feel the pain in the image. The colors are unbelievable."

"Oh, I don't know. It's okay."

"Okay? Red, that painting is unreal. How much do you want for it?"

His question caught me by surprise, nearly knocking me down. "What?"

"How much? I want it." He was so matter of fact, that the air rushed out of me.

"I haven't priced it. It's a big piece, bigger than anything else I've ever done."

"Okay, well tell me what you think, because I'll pay a lot for it."

My heart began stammering, words not forming on my lips. "Y-You really want it?"

"I don't just want it; I want to use it."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you at dinner. Just do me a favor? Think about a price? I really want that painting."

-

We agreed to meet at 7PM, but I was late. The subway had been packed, and I missed the first one. I didn't come jogging up to the front of the restaurant until fifteen after, seeing Noah stood outside, same outfit on as earlier today. I had to calm my insides at the sight.

I waved when he caught a glimpse of me, earning a smile in my direction.

"Hey, Red!"

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't letting that go.

"Hi, Noah."

When I approached, he put an arm out, and wrapped it around my shoulders casually. I had to take several deep breaths to remind myself that, like he said, he's just a guy.

An attractive guy. With tattoos. And the voice of an angel.

And this wasn't a date...right? This was a transaction...right?!

Trying to shake off the thoughts, I handed him the bag on my arm.

"Your goodies."

He smiled and took the bag, looking inside. "Nice. Thank you."

I followed him into the restaurant, which didn't look too terribly fancy. We were dressed casually, as were most people here. We were sat at a small table, a little dish with butter and rolls already in the middle.

We sat down, and began scanning the menus. The prices jumped out at me as relatively expensive, and I knew I would be taking my work out again tomorrow to make back the money I would be spending tonight.

Noah ordered a beer. I ordered water.

Noah ordered a steak with linguine on the side. I ordered a salad.

This caught his attention. "You don't want more than a salad and water?"

I hid behind my glass, shrugging. "Not the most hungry."

"Hm," He sat back and eyed me. "okay. For now."

The fuck does that mean?

"So have you given any more thought to how much you want for that painting?" He spoke before I could respond.

"I haven't. I really don't know, Noah." I shook my head, thinking. "Three hundred?"

His eyes widened. "No way, man. It's worth way more."

I was dumbstruck. "Are you asking me to charge you more?"

"Fuck yeah I am. That painting is worth ten grand, at the very least."

As badly as I wanted not to, and prayed I hadn't, I spit my water out onto the table, spraying my salad. My face immediately turned bright red, matching my hair.

"Excuse me?!"

He seemed very unfazed. "What?"

"Did you say ten grand? As in ten thousand?" He nodded. "Dollars?!"

He rolled his eyes. "No. Marshmallows."

Without thought, I picked up a cherry tomato and tossed it at him, bouncing it off of his hand on his plate. He glanced up at me, mouth open, amused.

"Did you just throw a tomato at me?"

I pressed my lips together in a very small, devious grin. "Maybe."

He picked up the tomato between two long fingers, considered it for a moment, and popped it in his mouth.

"I've never had that happen. And I'm a singer."

This made me laugh. "Oh God."

He wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Seriously, though, Red. You need to price your stuff fairly. Don't accept less than what you're worth."

I leaned back in my chair, considering this. "So, you want to pay me ten thousand for my painting?"

He shook his head. "I don't." My heart sunk for a second. "My label will, though."

My eyebrows shot up. "Pardon? The label?"

He was chewing some steak, and waited to swallow before he responded. I found myself staring at the apple on his throat bobbing.

"I want that painting to be our next album cover."

I felt my jaw physically hit the floor, break through the table and all. I was hallucinating.

"You...what?"

"I've been looking for months. I had been looking at photography until very recently, because I just wasn't finding anything that worked. I started scouting art fairs and galleries almost a year ago."

My eyes were blinking at an alarming rate.

"So, that's why you came to Central Park twice, then."

He smirked, lifting the beer bottle to his lips. "That's why I came to your table twice, yes."

I was pushing my salad around on the plate, not looking at him. "Ah, and here I was thinking you came back to see me." I looked up and gave him the cheekiest smile I could, joking.

Snorting, he flashed his teeth again. "Well, that too."

My stomach stuttered, and I set my fork down. I folded my arms on the table, looking straight at him.

"You're serious? You really want my painting for the album?"

He put his hands in his sweater pockets and leaned forward, so his face was hovering over the table.

"I'm dead serious." His tongue slipped over his bottom lip, catching my attention. "There's more to it than just buying it. We'd have to purchase rights from you, so you can't sell copies."

I raised a brow, now intrigued. "Oh?"

He leaned back again. "I don't want anyone else having our original piece that you did. We would, of course, credit you on the album, and maybe even ask you to do some additional work for the rest of the art?"

There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. "Rest of the art?"

"Yeah. The back of the album. The vinyl casing and variants. Merch, maybe?"

I couldn't breathe. It was so hot all of a sudden.

Noah could sense my panic. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to overwhelm you."

I gulped down half of my water at once. "No, I just..." I trailed off, staring at the tablecloth. "I've never had anyone want my artwork that bad."

He smiled. "Isn't the point to sell it? Success?"

"Well sure, but to go from selling prints and small canvasses in the parks to doing artwork for a huge band like Bad Omens? That's a bit of a step." I stared at him, trying to mask my anxiety, and failing horribly.

"I don't know if I'd call us huge." His smirk was coy, and I rolled my eyes.

"Wow. Cocky." I echoed my earlier statement, and this made him giggle like a child.

"Listen, think about it? In the meantime, can I ask a favor?" I didn't respond. "Don't sell any copies of that? Once you do, I can't use it."

I shrugged, and nodded, agreeing.

-

Two weeks had gone by, and I had not seen Noah since the night at the restaurant. I had re-covered the canvas, but the question replayed in my mind over and over.

Noah had decided to buy more pieces off of me, bringing my profits up to six hundred, which had my utilities paid this month and a small batch of groceries in the refrigerator. I agreed to ship them as soon as I could, but he kept telling me to take my time.

I knew what he really wanted to ask, but he held back.

I had thought about it over and over, trying hard to not let my bias toward Noah, or the bad, sway me.

This was a big step. Not owning my own art? Being pressured to make more that met a standard? Being under a contract? That wasn't what I got into this for. This wasn't why I became an artist and moved here. One of the best parts about creating something that you love, is that you get to do it freely. Once you have to do it, or do it a certain way, it becomes all too tedious. It's work now. I wasn't sure I'd be happy with it.

But on the flipside, there was a strange thrill at the idea. Someone wants my painting bad enough that they are willing to give me so much leeway financially, I can paint whenever I want. I'll get exposure. This could be what does it.

This painting could change everything.

And that was the point, right? I bought the canvas telling myself that this was the piece that changed it all. This was my ticket to success. And here it was, in front of me...

Ripping the sheet off of the canvas, I stared at it. The waves crashed over one another. The moon, bright, but somehow so ominous, shone through, bouncing off of the water in a way that made them look almost silver. The octopus, tentacles scattered amongst the waves, stared at me, bleeding eyes seeing through my soul.

"Is this what I'm supposed to do?" I asked the creature. I was met with silence. Loud, deafening, overwhelming silence.

"Fuck it."

I picked up my phone from the bed, bringing up my recent text thread with Noah, smiling at the meme he had sent earlier in the day.

I typed out a quick message, and sighed when I saw he read it quickly, and responded even quicker.

Me: I'm in.

Noah: Oh FUCK yeah!

-

Six months ago, I met Noah Sebastian for the first time, and he bought some of my art for a hundred dollars. Five and a half weeks ago, he bought more of my art for a hundred more dollars.

Five months ago exactly, his record label offered me twelve thousand dollars for my painting, and the rights to it, and offered me a contract to complete and provide artwork for all pieces surrounding their upcoming album, with an overall gross value of eighty-two thousand dollars to be paid up front, with the understanding that I would provide the artwork within one year of the contract signing.

Naturally, I was a mess.

Still living in my studio apartment, I had rented a painting studio six blocks from my apartment, and spent near all of my time there. I had completed the entire album artwork, maintaining the theme of the original piece, but adding in major twists in each installment.

So far, the label, the band, and mostly Noah, were pleased.

But today, I was stressed. There was one insert in the vinyl copy of the album that needed artwork. It needed a standalone piece, and I was drawing a vivid blank. I had been staring at the 3 foot by 2 foot canvas for two hours, paintbrush twirling between my paint-stained fingers. My old, ratted jeans were blotched with deep blue paint from my last attempt, which had been scrapped.

I was getting nowhere way too fast, and needed a break. I stood from my stool, and pulled my t-shirt off, standing in only my dark red sports bra to fight against the heat. I kept it warm in the studio to keep the paint from hardening in the palette.

Pacing back and forth, music pumping through my Bluetooth speaker, I sighed. I needed emotion. I needed something to throw at this damn thing, like before.

My phone quieted the music for a moment, and I snatched it to check.

Noah: In town this weekend. Want to get lunch?

As badly as I wanted to, I just couldn't.

Me: I can't. Trying to get this piece done.

Noah: Want me to bring you food? Can't paint on an empty stomach.

Considering this, I pursed my lips. He wasn't wrong.

I responded with the address to the studio.

Forty-five minutes later, and Noah was pushing his way into the small studio, bags of Chinese in his hands. I was sat on the stool, still staring at the blank canvas, twirling my brush, and didn't even look at him.

"Hey!" He set the bags down on the table on the far side of the room. "You haven't started yet?"

A hard, deep growl came out of me, and I chucked my brush at the ground, hearing it clatter. I stood, fingers gripping my hair at the root.

He threw his hands up. "Woah, it's okay! I wasn't trying to say anything to upset you."

I took a deep breath, letting go of my mop of hair. "You didn't. I'm just drawing such a fucking blank! I can't figure out what to paint for this insert!"

He tightened his lips, putting his hands in his jean pockets.

"What usually helps?"

"Anger! And I've got plenty! But I've still got fucking nothing!" My foot kicked the stool, sliding it several feel away.

He took a step forward, toward me, hands coming out in front of him.

"Okay, so anger isn't working. Any other emotions we can use?"

I raised an eyebrow, halting my pacing. "What do you mean?" My words were sharp, and he cracked an amused smile.

"You're a real fireball, clearly, Red. But, do you have other emotions we can channel?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Of course I have other emotions."

"Like?"

Suddenly feeling cornered, I squeezed my eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"I don't know." I looked up at him. "Sadness? Depression?"

He snickered. "Why all negative emotions?"

"What?"

"Why not joy? Enthusiasm? Excitement?" He looked so genuine, it almost hurt my heart, because I was so angry and it wasn't his fault.

I paced over to the stool, coming down with a screech against the floor. "Sorry." I confessed. "This is just hard to do under pressure, you know?"

He nodded, standing next to me, a soft hand coming down on my mid-back, rubbing slow circles on my bare skin.

"I get it. More than most, I think." I looked up at him. "But if what you're used to isn't working, then we have to do something different."

I scrubbed a hand over my face, and smiled weakly. "How?"

He pursed his lips, and his hand came under my arm, pulling me up from the stool. "Grab your brush."

Opting for a fresh one, I held it in front of me, and waited for further instruction.

He smiled, and put both hands on my shoulders, pulling me toward the easel and canvas. I followed absently, trying not to focus on my skin tingling where he was touching me.

"Okay," He moved behind me, pushing me closer to the canvas. "pick a color."

I chuckled, and leaned over to the palette to my right, picking up a deep navy on my brush.

Satisfied, he squeezed my biceps for a second before letting his hands fall away.

"Now, close your eyes."

I turned my head to look at him skeptically, but his eyes pleaded with me, so I obeyed, holding my loaded brush and letting my lids fall closed.

The room fell impossibly quiet, and I could feel his presence heavy behind me. The sensation brought goosebumps to my warm skin.

I was nearly startled when I felt his fingers brush my thick hair over my shoulder, and his breath came across my ear.

"Now," His voice was baritone, so raspy and so close to me. "I want you to picture what you're feeling at this very moment."

Feeling? What is feeling? Who am I ?

"Picture your emotions. Picture them as colors. Objects. Lights." He let out a deep exhale that washed over my neck, making me shiver.

"What if I can't?" My voice was small.

A large, strong hand grasped my right hip, pulling me to lean slightly backward, pressing against the front of his body.

"You can. I know you can."

The fingers of his other and were trailing up my hip, tracing patters over the tattoos on my ribcage.

"You know how to do this, Lily. Just see what you feel."

I wanted to push this. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

Eyes still closed, I let my lips turn up ever so slightly. "What if I can't feel enough, yet?"

His chest, pressed against my back, trembled with quiet laughter, "No? You need more stimulation?"

Jesus this guy's is going to murder me.

"Maybe." I smiled slyly.

His lips ghosted over the side of my neck just under my ear, his hand on my hip slipping around the front of my waist and pulling me even closer.

"What if I," His lips trailed up my skin, grazing the flesh so gently. "give you," Up to my chin. My breath was shaking. "something to feel?"

His lips were testing mine, tip of his nose bumping my own.

The lowest, most whispered moan escaped my lips before he dipped even lower, gently pressing his lips against mine. I molded to him, body encased by his arms, lips slotting into place against his, eyes rolling back behind my lids.

The feeling exploded out of me, pouring into his mouth, hands reaching up to grip his hair.

We stood there, mouths fighting for dominance, before I pulled away, pushing his hands off of me frantically, and nearly jumped toward the canvas.

I heard him breathing heavily behind me, a low chuckle erupting from him.

"I guess it worked?"

I stopped my brush strokes, turning my head and letting my hair flip over my shoulder.

"For now. Might need more stimulation later."

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eight

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hey! Quick note, this part has a LOT going on, it jumps from pov 2 or 3 times, but there's details mentioned that will make more sense later on, I hope that leaves no one confused:) Also there are a few new characters coming in, some will stay, some won't, so keep that in mind! I was gonna end this part like halfway through and then post, but it felt a little unfinished, so here it is hope you enjoy:))) x

Warnings: A short scene revolving around body image, mentions of scars, drugs, sobriety and heavy drinking

Masterlist

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) In the area, fancy meeting up for coffee?

It had been a good few days since I had last messaged either Jamie or Matty. Though the latter hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that I had suddenly distanced myself. Jamie, on the other hand, had and had surprisingly given me some space with it. 

Well, up until now that was.

It was a weary sigh that escaped me when I gazed down at my phone, needless chatter of gossiping mums and squealing children having faded far into the background.

I had only just managed to drop Teddy off at nursery, dipping and diving through the crowd to deliver him right to the classroom door, and was already halfway out of the playground now. It was my first day off in weeks- like proper day off. And now, I had Jamie to deal with.

Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, but saying that, I wasn’t so much of a twat to just ignore the first message he’d sent me in a while. Especially after I'd disregarded all of the man's previous efforts. Still I couldn't quite stop myself from huffing quietly as I shot him back a message, anxiety creeping in.

Messages now Closer to Tufnell Park than the studio at the minute

Jamie’s response came only seconds later.

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) No worries! Meet you near The Dome?

Sidestepping a few latecomers as I exited the school gate, I chewed on my bottom lip but eventually sent a text to let Jamie know that I'd be there. I only hoped that the man didn't ask too many questions about my sudden disappearance, I wasn’t too sure I could take the heat.

Early morning rush hour was in full swing by the time I’d made my way out onto the highstreet, people bustled past me to get to work without a care, or even an apology, for anyone who got in their way, zooming on ahead like a soldier in a storm. That was one of the things that had taken me some time to get used to, in truth. How different the crowds of London were to the tiny population of my hometown.

I'd just surpassed the underground station when I caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of dishevelled hair. Jamie stood a way ahead, smiling at the passersby with his hands shoved deeply into the lining of his coat's pockets. He wore a pair of dark, fitted trousers and had a smart looking scarf thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder, something to shelter him from the exaggerated cold. 

Somehow, his face seemed to brighten upon seeing me approach.

"Glad you could make it!" He said as I approached, and he clapped my upper arm in light greeting. "Thought you would have managed to beat me here though."

I made do with a small smile, before gesturing my head over towards where a quaint cafe sat up a few doors down so that we could begin walking.

"Nah, it's pretty hectic trying to escape the crowds at this time. Did you catch the tube up here then?" I conversed and saw Jamie’s brow dip for the briefest of moments before he hastily shook his head at my question.

"Oh, no. Was just leaving a meeting up in Shoreditch, you were on my route so I thought I'd ask."

I gave a low hum, unsure, but didn't comment on it when I thanked him for holding the door open for me to pass through.

"What are you in the mood for then? It's on me."

"Ah, no it's-"

I didn't even get the chance to decline the offer before Jamie was waving me off with a charming smile and a wave of his arm. "Honestly, mate. It's fine, a cup of coffee won't have me out on my arse. So what do you want?"

Blinking with a somewhat disbelieving shake of my head, I prattled off my usual order in a low murmur and told Jamie that I'd find us a table. Just wanting to be helpful, but also to get a second to think things through.

The cafe wasn't too busy. It held the expected usuals; a handful of early-rising old timers and a couple of suits headed in late. So there were a few free tables up for grabs. I picked the one by the window.

Jamie joined me a few minutes later, wearing his usual grin as he carried over a tray of goodies. I raised an eyebrow at the mountain of sweet pastries procured but the man simply shrugged.

"Looked like you'd had a long morning, figured you to be the chocolate type." He commented as he nudged a large croissant in my direction.

Just looking at the buttery roll made my stomach grumble. Teddy and I had been in a wee bit of a rush this morning to get out of the house after my alarm had failed to wake us, so I'd skipped breakfast and picked Teds up something to eat on the way into school.

Toying with the rim of the coffee's handle, I gave Jamie an appreciative smile. “Cheers.” I breathed out and carefully pulled the plate in a little closer.

After that we both simply sipped at our warm drinks for a short while, watching as the morning commuters passed by the large window. It was a calm affair and far from as awkward as I might've expected the meeting to be. In fact, it was actually the first time Jamie and I had met up since that day at the studio, and even then we hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat. 

Still, Jamie’s company felt very similar to that of Adi's- perhaps even Finn's. It allowed me to relax a little. 

It was only after I'd broken off the end of my croissant that I spoke up.

"So, is driving across London at nine in the morning just to buy me a drink your idea of a date, or do you do this with all your mates?"

Jamie blinked at me once, twice, before his eyes widened in alarm, which caused me to, quite literally, snort into my tea.

"I'm joking! Don't fret. Just wondering why the sudden change in pace."

Jamie gifted me a sheepish grin in response and took a quick swig of his coffee before he finally replied.

"You went quiet on us." He shrugged as he picked apart a blueberry muffin, separating the berries from the soft sponge, which amused me somewhat. "Gave you a couple days to breathe, but I reckon you've had long enough. You wanna tell me what's up?"

My eyes strayed back to the window as I withheld a sigh, knowing full well that this had been coming. 

“You know how it is.” I shrugged, almost petulant, and gripped at my cup a little tighter. "Just got busy. I mean, you have to deal with Matty and the band constantly. Can’t be an easy feat."

I received a laugh in turn but my attempt at a little lighthearted humour didn't derail Jamie.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, and you really do have no reason to trust me, of all people, with your problems. But I am here if you ever need anything. Can't speak for Matty, try as I might, but I wouldn't put it past him to go completely out of his way to do whatever you asked either." He chuckled to himself then, like he knew something I didn’t. "He actually hasn't been able to stop talking about you, you know. Not since we met."

I tapped at the mug and felt my tongue prod the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting at Jamie’s words. I just shook my head.

"Doubt he's even noticed I've stopped replying." I quipped lightly, trying to shrug off the sudden emotion that admission had stirred up.

"Ah, so you have been ignoring us then."

I inhaled sharply and dropped my gaze. I couldn’t outright lie to him. 

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a lot going on, you know? This is all new for me, you and Matty, you've just. I don't even know. You just turned up out of the blue and..."

"Sort of invited ourselves into your life?" Jamie filled in with a wry smile.

"No, no! That's- that's not what I meant. Honestly. It's just strange. Different from what I expected." I attempted to backtrack, but ultimately failed.

"No, I get it." Jamie assured, but didn't push the topic any further. "You're stupid, by the way, if you think Matty hasn't noticed. In all the time I've known him, the idiot’s only ever texted me when he's needed something- but the last couple days? I don't think my phone’s stopped going off."

I shovelled another piece of the chocolatey pastry into my mouth to keep myself from replying or reading too much into that.

Jamie released a breathy chuckle and shook his head, as though he could read my reaction, my thoughts. "You've been good for him so far, Mouse. No parties. No drugs. Can't say the same thing about the drink, but he's cut a lot of it out. And I'm chalking that all up to you, ‘cause I can't think of anything else that might've changed in his life to have forced his hand like this."

His words confused me, but then he paused for a moment and purposely caught my eye. 

"Whatever's happened, don't let it keep you from opening up. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. Besides, you can never have too many friends, can you?"

I wiped at my mouth before dipping my head in quiet assent. "No. I ‘spose I can do friends."

Jamie all but beamed, looking pretty proud of himself as he reached across the table for a scone. "Now, tell me all the things that I've missed."

***

Matty practically jumped out of his seat when he heard the front door rattle shut. 

He'd been on edge since the moment he had woken up, but had decided to try for once. He made breakfast (well, rather a late lunch), tried all that meditating malarky (his therapist would be, oh so, proud), and even ended up doing a loop of the block in a desperate attempt to keep his chaotic mind at bay. But nothing. Nothing. Had been able to keep him from wearing the soles of his feet into the fucking floorboards. 

"And where’ve you been?" Matty instigated as soon as Jamie strolled into his sitting room with his usual smile, shaking off the autumn chill he’d invited in with him.

"Around." Was all the twat replied as he draped his heavy overcoat on the back of one of the upholstered armchairs. He paused to eye Matty closely. "Why, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Matty’s scowl was infamous by this point, but Jamie was one of the fair few to have gotten used to it. A right shame, that. "Nothing! Just- I texted you, wanted an update."

Jamie quirked an amused brow his way and it took all of Matty’s nervous pent up energy not to blow up at him. He could feel his own irritation building though, it tingled in the tips of his fingers and raised goosebumps across his skin. 

"That all? You know the team won't give us an answer until they’re certain that it all won't fall through."

Matty gritted his teeth together and tugged a rough hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's bollocks! It's our fucking album, why do they get a say in what happens with it?"

Jamie sighed quietly to himself as he wandered over towards the heavyset globe sat in the far corner. Matty watched on as he slid its top off and procured a pair of tumblers, pouring two fingers of murky whiskey into each of the old fashioned glasses.

"You know why, mate." 

They'd had this conversation too many times before. And yet,

Matty clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, lashing out, but his knuckles whitened around the glass when Jamie pressed it into his palm. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Thought you wanted me off the drink?" He remarked coldly but swallowed the spirit down before Jamie could give him an actual answer, or take it away. He only wished that the alcohol burned brighter, these days it barely left a bitter tang on his tongue.

Jamie didn't touch his own as he made his way on over towards the chaise lounge, but his fingertips tapped a smooth rhythm against the crystal. The house didn’t make a sound.

Matty followed, as expected, restlessly flinging his feet up onto the centre table before his agitation once again began to overwhelm him. He huffed when he dropped them back to the floor again, the heavy vibrations grounding him somewhat as he moved to rest his elbows on the knobs of his knees.

"That newest story's doing wonders for you right now though." Jamie told him gently when Matty’s quick eyes met his gaze, his hands still toying with the full glass. "They want to rebuild your image. Figure it'll help with album presales, and they're not really all that wrong, mate. Since you've been out of um-”

“You can say it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but barrelled on, “Since you've been out of rehab. Well, the public's been enjoying seeing this new side of you. Besides, I thought you liked whatever her name was."

With a scoff, Matty forced his gaze away. "It's complete shit and you know it. PR just wants control. For me to fall in line. And the public couldn't give a single fuck about what I do! All they live for is the gossip, the drama. And that's what I do best, no? Don't worry though, J, I'm sure I'll fuck up sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that." Jamie scolded as he pushed his tumbler onto the table and moved a little closer. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his fingers twitching on the inseam of his leg to keep himself from reaching out to comfort.

"Oh, fucking come off it, Jamie! You know it's true." Matty spat back, the rage once again building. These past few days had had him fraying. "I bet they’re already sitting there at that table just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I already know they’ll want to be the first in the know, when I finally do fuck up again. Spout about what a waste of space I am! How they should've sacked me off sooner. That it should've been me and not-"

"Don't."

Jamie’s voice cut through the room like a blaring siren, but Matty had never heard him speak so lowly. 

"Don't go there. He wouldn't want you thinking that way."

Matty locked his jaw and narrowed his scrutinising eyes at Jamie. "Don't act like you know what he'd want."

Jamie glanced away for the briefest of seconds and inhaled slowly before his gaze finally returned. Matty could see his own torment reflected in Jamie’s sad eyes. "It hurt me too. You know that."

Matty forced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unable to deal with the many emotions that threatened to overpower him. He swiped Jamie's drink off of the table and swallowed it down in one, then swiftly stood and strode across the room to make another.

The amber liquid warmed his chest as expected and he felt the moment it hit his empty stomach. He braced himself against the globe's golden stand, leaving his hair to fall helplessly into his face. Thankfully, it shielded his glossy eyes from Jamie’s view.

It was still so hard. Most nights it was all he could ever picture-

No. Not today, he rebuked. Not now. Not again.

It was a never ending nightmare that he just couldn't seem to wake himself up from. And how he fucking wished he could wake up.

Matty went to refill the glass again but faltered. His hand stilled, midair, fingers itching to grab at the ancient old bourbon that sat only inches away, but instead he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

Too many notifications cluttered the screen. But not a single one from the person he wanted to talk to most. 

In a fit of dismay, he went to throw the stupid thing at the nearest wall but a hand caught his wrist before he could do any real damage.

Matty’s eyes flickered up to meet Jamie’s- he choked.

"I just-" He tried to force out but the words felt like thick bile in his throat. His lip trembled and Jamie tugged him close. Matty wondered when he'd ever allowed the man to get so close. To breach his high walls.

"I know." Jamie hushed him, allowing a steady hand to come to rest at the back of Matty’s neck. "I know, mate."

Matty wondered if he truly did.

***

Mesmerising. 

I let the word play over and over on a loop in my head as my fingertips trailed along the jagged lines of my torso. 

Seventeen I'd been- my first time with this boy from college and he had called the scars I was forced to bare mesmerising. As if they were something special, something to be proud of. I'd frozen back then, the word had, so suddenly, hindered my entire world, but he'd gone on exploring without even noticing the way my mind had started to spiral.

The scars had always been a difficult pill to swallow. They weren't mine. I hated how others could so easily claim their own. His scars. My scars. Hers. I didn't want them. They were just there. A myriad of haunted memories to which I'd been burdened with since the age of seven.

All these years later and still I couldn't recall the smooth expanse of skin that had once been there- untarnished, unharmed.

The bronze shadows, created by the setting sun which illuminated my bedroom walls in a burning shade of amber, crawled across the floorboards beneath my feet and caressed my skin. They dipped and curved, exaggerating sharp lines and hallowing shallow slopes.

I'd only meant to have a quick shower, in and out, before Finn inevitably ended up dropping Teddy back home. But I'd left the wardrobe door wide open in my haste to leave early this morning and had yet to shut it, exposing the slim mirror attached to the inside of the wooden door. A slip up.

So now my distorted body stared back at me mercilessly and I couldn't find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The meek girl stood within its four cutting lines just wasn't me. It was simply the reflection of a sheltered kid who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly. 

Her skin, hardly what you'd pale but not far off, was flushed and pink all over from the steam of the shower. Her hair, still damp and wet, clung to the majority of her forehead and dripped water droplets down the line of her throat. Her eyes, usually a deep, warm colour, were somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and long lashes. The dark circles that sat beneath them only emphasised the muted scarlet that rimmed her waterline- a lack of sleep. 

I wet my lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted enough so that my front teeth could just about be seen. Her face was lined by worry. Fine wrinkles etched themselves around the corners of her eyes and mouth, then again between her furrowed brows.

The scars, faded but somehow still raw, swept up her neck and collarbone, and jumped over her right shoulder. One crept across the cut of her jaw, whilst another sliced through the bridge of her nose to meet another, smaller scar, on her cheek. Her chest, where it had been previously impaled, was now stretched and knitted. Some lines were a few shades darker than her natural complexion, maroon, and oftentimes cardinal. Others were lighter, pale and whitened. Faded.

A gruesome gash down the centre of her abdomen led to a spattering of fine hairs that lined her navel, trailing low beneath the hem of the towel she'd wrapped around her waist earlier. Her hands were now fisted at her sides though, so much so that prominent veins danced up the insides of her forearms, skirting around the few fawn freckles that painted her skin.

Mesmerising.

The sudden blare of a mobile ringing sent a sharp chill up my spine and knocked the air back into me. Shakily I inhaled, averting my eyes from the mirrored prison, then spun round on my heel to answer the call.

There was no greeting, no small talk. It was cutthroat and to the point.

"I need a drink. You coming?"

And I had never answered a question quicker.

--

It was a hard task, squinting down at my phone in an attempt to concentrate on the text I was trying to send to Finn, but the strobe lights and throng of people around me were making the task rather fucking difficult.

To be honest though, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I'd stepped foot inside a club. Or even spent an entire evening sat in the local pub. But I’d been all but desperate, and so, in the heat of the moment, I had practically jumped at the first offer I’d been given. 

I was beginning to second guess that decision now though as I pushed my way through the rowdy crowds, the assorted smell of liquor and sweat already clinging to my clothes. I hadn't really put too much thought into those, too busy trying to escape my own head. Really, I’d just thrown on an old skirt from my uni days, a top that made my tits look great but hid the scar there, and the well-worn leather jacket Finn had gifted me at the end of my first year working on the show.

I had just sent the text off, double checking with the man himself that he was still alright to have Teddy til the following morning, when a raised voice caught my attention.

Frowning, my head snapped up but that soon faded once I caught sight of the tall ginger propped up against the bar not too far away. My lips curled up into a lopsided grin on their own command and I was quick to pocket my phone, already moving towards him.

"Mighty Mouse. You actually made it!" Ronan Kelly bellowed in that familiar Irish lilt of his, welcoming me in with a hearty squeeze to the waist as we embraced. "It's a feckin' miracle!"

I gave him an impish smile and dipped my head slightly to rub at my nose, then made the effort to catch Ronan's icy gaze. "I guess it has been a while."

"A while- Babe, I ain't seen you in months!" Ronan laughed, flashing a row of white teeth and wrinkling his bright blue eyes. I felt some of my worries ease at the sight of the man's familiar face, a warm reminder of older days. "Can't believe you actually agreed to come out with us!"

I shook my head and released an airy chuckle, "You know how it is, Ro- got Teddy to worry about now."

Ronan's face, if possible, lit up even further at the mention of the small toddler. "Ah, grand! How is the wean? At school now, right?"

It was sweet of him to ask and I smiled up at him as I went to answer, but was forced further into Ronan’s space when some prat barged past me to get to the bar. Ronan caught me by the waist with a natural ease he’d always been capable of and narrowed his eyes at the guilty party from over my shoulder. 

Not wanting things to escalate, I did my best to quickly wave it off and distract. "Teddy's good!" I heard myself tell him, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pulsing music, tiptoeing almost now in his grasp. "He's with Finn at the moment."

Ronan's gaze reluctantly trailed back to me upon hearing me speak, he reluctantly smiled and nodded but had yet to drop his hands from where they were now stationed at my hips.

"I'm sure Finn is completely lovin' that."

With a light laugh, I rolled my eyes at his sarky reply and moved to press my forearm up against the edge of the bar’s countertop. "They're a proper little duo. Finn has been a saint, what with all his help and that. Don't think I'd be standing here today without him really."

"Well, let's cheers to that then, hey?" Ronan grinned, then raised a hand to gesture over towards the barman.

Within seconds two pints were being placed on the bartop, a dizzying yellow colour filled to the brim with minuscule bubbles that had my mouth watering. It had been a long while since a fresh pint of lager had wet my lips and it helped that Ronan’s presence was a comfort.

"Sláinte!" He announced brashly, already having hoisted his glass into the air between us.

"Cheers!" I laughed, clinking our glasses together before gulping down a too large swig.

"That's what I like to see!" Ronan whooped, almost proudly. He squeezed my right hip in celebration before choosing to steer us both away from the bar and over towards a wall lined with darkened booths. "Come on, Auley and everyone's waiting over here, been excited to see ya!”

I only nodded in reply, pint close to my chest as I followed after him, bobbing between an array of patrons effortlessly now. The earlier anxiety shovelled deep, deep down.

***

Withdrawal was something Matty had never thought too much about in the years before. He'd always had everything right there, on tap. A quick hit, a line just to pick him up. It always felt so easy.

But now, without the copious amount of pills, the parties, he finally realised why the fuck people were never able to stay away for too long. Because sooner or later, they always ended up crawling back.

It wasn't so much the flu-ish like sickness that had him reeling, although he really could've done without the high-fever sweats and the full body tremors. It was more that ever encompassing sorrow. The depression that never seemed to lift- but then again, depressed wasn't even the first word he would use to describe it. It was like a thick plume of murky black that fogged every exit, far beyond the gut wrenching nausea that clawed away at his insides at all hours of the day, or the constant drilling in his head that kept him from sleep.

Being without- 

Being without was practically maddening. A spiral of hellish days with no escape, the only choice he had was to carry on or simply turn back. And he'd come too far now to run towards the latter, he’d already made that mistake. And if he had anything to thank his godforsaken mother for, it was the sheer stubbornness they both so clearly shared.

Matty couldn't complain though, he wouldn’t, as much as he wished he often could though, because he was still leaning heavily on the spirits. He knew. As well as the band and Jamie, who'd also been hellbent on 'helping'. In their own way.

Although the idiots hadn't made things much easier for him, the guys hadn't put up much of a fight against his drunk ramblings or the never ending mood swings. They just took it all in stride. Which Matty was mostly grateful for.

The alcohol though, he'd currently taken to using as a crutch. He'd drink a little more and more just to cope with the effects, the longing, to get him through to the next day. But he'd never felt too dependent on it before and didn't feel as though it was a massive problem now, he'd been drinking since before he'd worked out how to pick the lock on his dad’s old liquor cabinet. He’d keep drinking ‘til he was near the grave.

The drinking though, was just a baby habit in comparison to the drugs.

It was also how he'd managed to find himself out on a Thursday night. 

He'd actually managed to forgo Hann's mothering this time, sending his mate off home early from the studio before he'd called up an old friend. Itching for that familiarity of older times, shaking with it really, but knowing better.

"Oi, Healy- you still with us?" Crowed a loud voice in his left ear.

Matty startled at it and turned back around to find the one and only Danny Willis hanging over his shoulder, usual open-mouthed grin on full display, a drink in hand.

He blinked up at him once before Matty’s lips turned upwards into a lazy smile, he spun around on his foot to get further in his friend's face. "Thought you'd gone off with that bird?"

"Who, blondie?" Danny questioned, smirking now. "Nah, wouldn't have left you hanging all alone, mate."

Matty snorted.

"Ah, so you do care!" He drained the dregs of his bourbon then grinned at the twat, "Always wondered whether you fancied me, Danny boy! Guess this just proves it, don’t it?"

Danny wound an arm around his shoulders and leant in to press a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek. Matty pulled away, cackling as he tried to shrug the added weight off.

"Prick." Matty scoffed lightly, stumbling as he rubbed at his face. He grunted at the small group he'd accidentally bulldozed into in his haste and they all scowled in return, but it wasn't long before Danny jumped in to rescue and steer him away.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, hey? The next bar awaits and all that." Danny proclaimed, chucking back the remnants of his own drink. Matty chuckled when the man winced and then wiped the corners of his mouth. "Reckon we might be able to find someone decent for you to take home there!"

Matty merely hummed in reply as they pushed their way through a set of double doors and out into the night, not really listening as he propped himself up against Dan's side, ignoring the whispers that tended to follow wherever he went.

"Ah, look at that, would you!" Danny's voice came again, right by his ear, as he paused on the pavement to cock his chin outwards, forcing Matty to follow his gaze. "It's a full moon!"

Matty rolled his eyes.

***

"Come on, Mouse!" Auley tried for the umpteenth time that night. His larger than life smile, I noted, had always been much gentler than that of his brother's. "You can't stay cooped up in this booth all evenin'! You need to put yourself out there, darlin’- have some fun!"

I shook my head, chuckling up at the giant of a man standing before me. "I swear I'm fine here, Aul. You go and have enough fun for the both of us."

Auley's face scrunched up in distaste as he reluctantly pushed away from the table's edge, the dim lights of the bar illuminating his hair, almost seeming to set it alight as it added a halogen glow to the already coppery red.

Ronan chose that moment to reappear, brushing past his brother to settle back into the booth next to me. He set two more drinks down on the table. "Leave the poor lass alone, won’t you, Aul! You know how she gets."

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly, and Auley did the same as he slowly backed away, mouth quirked upwards. "Yeah, yeah. Yer like a pair of old women, you two- peas in a pod or somethin'."

"Ah, shove off!" Ronan laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his whole body. "Think I can hear the dance floor callin' your name, mate."

"Too right." Auley quipped, flashing another bright grin at his brother before he turned back to face me. "Know that this isn't over just yet. You might've won this battle but you ain't won the war, darlin’. I'll soon get that dance."

I snorted, but was unable to help my grin. "One day, babe."

Auley winked at me and I watched on as he melted into the mob of people before us, leaving Ronan and I alone.

I observed the crowd for a long moment, taking note of all their dizzying smiles. For a Thursday night, the bar was oddly rampacked, but I couldn't find it in myself to complain too much, not when everyone seemed to be having a great time. 

There was a large group of us out tonight. Alongside asking me to join, Ronan and Auley had brought along the entirety of their flat as well as a few others, some from uni, others from work, I reckoned. They'd all split up within the first half hour though, but they kept drifting back and forth, I could easily spot Penn and his brightly coloured shirt over by the snooker table in the very far corner, and most of the girls had crowded together out on the dance floor. 

"Havin' a good night then?"

I repositioned myself upon hearing Ronan's question, he was closer now in an attempt to be heard over the music, and I sipped at the foamy top of my pint before answering. "Yeah, I am. It's, well it's been a while since I last did anything like this." I chuckled, eyes roaming the room again. 

Ronan shifted closer once more, the booth’s leather seat squeaking quietly under his weight as the song on the overhead speakers faded into the next.

"I'm glad. We haven't seen you proper since yer last year at uni."

It was true but that wasn't just down to me, I felt the need to say. But instead gave him a small smile as I just shrugged, thumbing the edge of the table, "Life gets busy with a baby. Plus, it's not as though any of you lot had time to just drop by and see me, with all your classes and what not."

Ronan’s lips pursed at my words and a quiet stretched between us. I watched on as he fiddled with the bottom of his pint glass, before finally he replied. "Could've made time. Finn did. Cassie, too. Just- it felt strange, going back after that summer and you not bein' there."

To be honest, I didn't really know what to say to that. 

As much as I had loved my time at university, I hadn't really had much space for it in my life after Teddy had come along. And although I’d never regretted my decision to leave, not after everything I'd gone through to get to where I am today. Because my God, had that been hard. I did sometimes miss the memories I’d made there, the people I’d met and, surprisingly, the workload too. It made me question whether I could have had it all, a degree and a baby. Although, I somehow doubted that that was what Ronan was grasping at here.

But it wouldn’t do well to continue to dwell on the past. I'd already spent a large portion of my life doing exactly that, and I’d known in the long run that I would have to have let go of some things in order to provide a better life for Teddy, better than the one that I’d had. I wanted my son to have every possible opportunity, every choice, in order to better himself. I wanted him to be a kid for as long as life would let him.

And as much as I really did love spending time with Ronan and the old gang, I also knew that come tomorrow morning I had actual commitments and responsibilities to attend to. I didn't have the opportunity anymore to skive and bunk off of lectures so that I could deal with a nasty hangover and sleep in. Teddy was always relying on me to come through. And come through I would. Every time.

But right now! I just needed to let my hair down. Enjoy an evening away, and maybe (hopefully) get rid of some of that tension that had been piling up over the previous weeks.

Thankfully though, I was saved from answering when a flushed Alice came hurrying over, clinking her cocktail on the table so hard it's fruity contents spilled out across the wooden surface. The overexcited girl, who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, didn't pay much mind to the mess as she threw herself into our booth and peered over her shoulder to search for something or other. 

I shot Ronan a bewildered look, but the ginger merely widened his eyes at me as if to say that he had no clue what was going on either. 

"Er, you alright, Al?"

Alice's head snapped back so fast that I honestly fretted a little over the whiplash she must've felt.

"No?! Do I look alright?" Alice stressed, digging her perfectly painted nails into the red cushion that lined the booth's back. "You'll never believe who Penn and I just saw walk in!"

I only hid a smile to myself whilst Ronan decided to humour Alice. "Who d’ya see, Ali-cat?"

Alice's face was nothing like I had ever seen before, her usual pretty smile had been traded in for a kilowatt grin, bunching her rosy cheeks and narrowing her soft brown eyes.

"That singer! You know- the one with the hair and the face! Ah, what's his name? From that band!"

"Matty!" Answered Indra- seemingly a friend of a friend of a friend- who had bounded up to our table in the time Alice had been freaking out, practically hyperventilating. "The. Matty Healy!"

"That's who!" Alice exclaimed and was nodding away excitedly now, whilst I simply sat frozen, drink halfway to my lips.

"Didn't you interview him?" Indra queried suddenly, her eyes as wide as saucers whilst her gaze flitted back and forth between me and the bar at an impossible pace.

Shakily, I set my glass down.

"You did?" Ronan piped up beside me. I swallowed thickly before turning my head towards him, then back towards the two girls, who were anxiously waiting on my reply.

"Uh, yeah." It felt as though I’d forced the words out of my mouth. A ball of cotton having replaced my tongue.

"Oh, Mouse! Introduce us, would you? Please!" Alice all but squealed imploringly.

My alarmed eyes flickered back to Ronan again, then Indra, and then Alice.

My mouth had never felt so dry as I tried my best to ground myself, to get over the sudden, unexpected headfuck that had sent my mind reeling.

"Ah, I don't know, Al. It's, well. I-" I really did struggle to find the right words that could possibly get me out of this entire situation, but before I even knew what was happening, Indra was already reaching for me and pulling me up out of the booth. 

Alice jumped up to join her and patted my sleeve eagerly before proceeding to try and drag me away. Ronan, thank the stars, reached out to stop them just in time, tugging on the hem of my jacket and shooting the two girls a sharp look.

"Oi, you two. Behave, will yer? You didn't even give her the chance to answer."

Alice looked up and flashed me a sheepish grin, "Sorry, hun."

Feeling sheepish and rather relieved, really, to be freed from all the clawing hands, I waved her apology off, knowing Ali was only just drunk and excited. "It's fine, just- I think I'm better off heading home now in truth. You know, I've got Teddy to think about."

Both of the girls' disappointment was overwhelmingly obvious, but they didn't push it any further, simply nodded and tried to smile as best as they could.

"No worries, Mouse. You get on home, babe. Sorry again."

"Wait, you're not actually leaving, are you?" Ronan questioned suddenly, causing me to cast a glance over at him. He was frowning now, that much was obvious from the deep set line rapidly forming between his bushy brows. "It's not 'cause of that tosser, is it?"

Immediately, I felt myself shake my head, already knowing that the lie would taste bitter in my mouth.

"Ah, come off it! Stay for another round at least." Ronan goaded me, moving to stand with the girls, his hand still on my elbow though.

"Nah, I'd best head home, Ro. I don't want to be dealing with a hangover as well as a screaming toddler tomorrow morning." I insisted with a lighthearted chuckle, I gifted him an apologetic smile whilst fishing out my phone to call a cab.

It wasn't even late yet, just gone eleven, and there was an unread text from Finn demanding that I have some fun. I gave a heavy sigh.

"Don't be like that, babe. Come on, one more drink and I'll even walk you home." Ronan raised a brow just as he jutted out his jaw and smiled.

It was tempting but...

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Honestly, Ro-"

But the man wouldn't hear it. "Come on, ladies. Help me out here!" He implored to both of the girls standing either side of him now, the way he towered them was almost funny.

Indra giggled just as Ronan wrapped his strong arms around her and Alice, shaking them a little. Alice simply rolled her eyes at him in amusement, but pulled away slightly to squeeze my hand.

"It's up to you, M. You know we love seeing you, but I can call you a cab if you really want to head off now."

I could only smile at her and silently questioned why we didn't spend more time together outside of the group. I could easily recall Finn saying something or other about a pottery class the two of them had attended the previous weekend and wondered if that would be something I might enjoy.

"I'll be fine, babe. Thank you, though." I told her kindly, before turning to face Ronan. "You enjoy the rest of your night, alright? I'll text you when I've made it back."

"Mouse..." Ronan groaned unhappily, "Just one more drink. For me?"

I shook my head and tugged my jacket further around my body as I stepped away from the trio, patting down my pockets to make sure that I did have everything I needed. 

"I'll come out again, soon." I promised them, but tried to aim my words at the frowning redhead as I continued to back away. "You can hold me to it."

Ronan worked his jaw before he nodded curtly, and I sighed to myself before spinning on my heel to hastily make my exit. 

Only, it didn't quite happen like that of course, because, of all the people, in all the world, I just had to bump right into none other than Matty.

[snaccpopstudios]

Games Report 06/20/23

Hello everyone! Before we get into the meat of this week's dev report, today's guest artwork of Shaun Durand-Coffer and Moon Pie is by Coda Blue, a black games developer we commissioned to commemorate Juneteenth 2023!

We're also breaking a bit of convention today: it’s Sauce here to do some talking about a frequent (and valid) concern/question we get from fans.

Why so many projects at one time?

There are a lot of reasons that go into it and it’s kind of difficult to break down casually. But I’ll do my best to use the analogy of a relay race with batons!

Each project (Sunny Day Jack, The Groom of Gallagher Mansion, AphroDesia, and DacahaBo) largely has its own team, meaning that Writer A is assigned to Project A while Writer B is assigned to Project B and so forth. In a single Project, when the Writer is done with the script, they pass the baton to the Artist (usually me, in this case) to draw additional art like CGs to accentuate key scenes, while an Editor works to tighten up the sentence structure and spot missing plot points (a Musician may be working at this time as well). After editing is complete and art is at least underway, Programmers and Voice Actors can begin on their tasks. As we near completion, Programmers, Audio Engineers, and Beta Testers make sure the package is nice and tidy for everyone to enjoy.

At least, that's how it goes in an ideal situation.

When you’re working on a production, a large amount of variables (defined as an "element, feature, or factor that is liable to vary or change") are in play. Some of those variables might look like:

When does this team member get off from college, their day job, or other life commitment?

When they're done with those, how much personal time do they need in order to take care of themselves, or even recuperate?

What happens if the person actively working on something has a chronic illness flare-up, gets sick, or has something else preventing them from doing their assignment?

What happens if this person isn't openly communicating about delays in delivering work?

What happens if we can't contact someone because they're not responding to our inquiries?

What if we need to remove someone from the team, or someone we were counting on leaves voluntarily?

What happens if work that was "completed" and already paid for needs to be scrapped entirely and redone from the ground up?

Does someone else from Project C need to fill in and work on Project A to help them catch up?

Does someone assigned to one role in a Project need to take on multiple roles to help the entire team catch up?

Even from this short list of potential hurdles we might face during production, it seems like an easy solution would be to eliminate someone's time spent on outside life commitments! Except, it's not: even BáiYù can't quit his day job because in America, traditional employment often offers healthcare as part of their employee benefits and SnaccPop Studios is nowhere close to being able to provide a full living wage for everyone working with us. Maybe one day! But we’re not quite there.

So as you can imagine, sometimes there will be periods of time when an entire group of people aren't working because they don't have the baton quite yet since the person holding the baton is being held up by life. And this isn't their fault by any means, but a lack of communication about that makes it harder for us to estimate when any single relay race will be complete.

So how do you keep a Patreon filled with content?

We are very fortunate and grateful to receive a lot of Patreon support, especially after our SDJ Kickstarter! But getting all those funds is a huge responsibility. You should attempt to keep it stocked. And that’s what we attempt to do.

SP is made up of different teams suited to each individual property. Different programmers, different writers, etc. Each team is tasked with getting a set amount of work done, and between all the variables listed above sometimes we have really good months and sometimes we have pretty dry ones. Keeping all these teams moving together helps us to put out content while say, a writer is out with COVID and SDJ needs to pause for a week. TGoGM had a technical error that saw the game needing to be rebuilt in a new engine. And at the moment, AD is currently sans an audio drama writer.

These are frustrating problems and we're working on fixing what's in our direct control. But we understand that we also have to USE the money we receive visibly or else people ask us where the money is even paying for. And while we make an effort to put away savings responsibly, we can’t just accept large amounts of money without providing a product, or portions of one, in return.

The "Boring Bits"

There’s also in productions portions I like to call “Boring Bits”. These are moments where everything being done is just exceptionally boring to show off. Either it’s programming and bug fixing, or it’s deep lore writing and scripting we can’t show due to spoilers, or something else like that.

At those times all we CAN say is we’ve been fixing bugs or writing. BáiYù and some of the other team members could give an explanation of what's going on during those times but most of us can agree that it's not as enjoyable as something like a new pin-up or an audio drama. 

Sometimes to say more would be a spoiler, or we can’t say anything else. Sometimes, it's all a waiting game.

At the beginning, waiting was the hardest part. It could take anywhere from two weeks to months to get back recordings or audio or art. And we have to respect why these things happen. When it’s an instance of slow delivery, we can ask for more clear deadlines or pay a rush fee, but other than that it’s just a long wait.

So, while we waited, we tried to find other means of providing entertainment.

Productions featuring groups of people all over the world, with very different lives, is extremely difficult. But sometimes people who provide quality work require that bit of patience.

So where is everything in the relay race?

At the moment, the status of our projects is as such:

Sunny Day Jack

SDJ is still being mapped out due to the inclusion of Nick as a love interest, as his character becoming more permanent changes several things in the narrative with the other love interests. To help speed things along, we've asked Gil Finnegan (he/him) from the DachaBo team to work with Biscuwuit to split the character route workloads.

It’s a large game, and their work includes labeling every individual scene as well as planning all the programmable variables. We can’t share ANYTHING more than what we have already shared on Kickstarter and Patreon. No new art assets are prepared because they’ve either been made (BGs, GUI) or we don’t how many sprites we need for the full roster until the plot is reworked completely. We can’t give script pages because of spoiler reasons.

We anticipate that a more robust report cycle will begin appearing once we get to scripting, but as a VN writing is a heavy and very important portion of the game that requires this narrative planning, sensitivity editing, and retcon checking. We will likely be in the writing portion a lot of 2023, which was expected since the game is intended to release in 2024.

Sleepy Time Jack

STJ is our additional companion app that’s seeing its final updates with the Patreon Exclusive “Jacktor” portion currently in progress. Due to some less-than-ideal cloud storage issues, we had to remake certain assets from scratch. Additionally, Steam is currently giving BáiYù the runaround and making it difficult for him to get the page up publicly, but we think we've figured out why they're complaining about the logo (they seem to be afraid of the "Digital Talking Body Pillow" subtitle not being part of the app's name in the system).

The Groom of Gallagher Mansion

TGoGM is expected to be finished soon, with free NSFW content planned for the future, but not until we’ve given it some time to sit. BáiYù has had to not only perform his usual Producer duties across all of SP, but also take on Writer and Programmer duties in this project to keep it moving due to life circumstances surrounding team members.

DachaBo

DachaBo Classic is being maintained canonically and updated by a largely separate team, but mostly only as a cosmetic and stability update. DachaBo: Barks & Mews proper remains in pre-production (Planning lore, connecting dots, and conceptualizing) until TGoGM sees its first release in English.

AphroDesia

AD is currently planning its audio reboot. But as a lore-heavy series, it’s being taken under consideration very carefully. Audio drama writers are key, and our current writer is prioritizing living expense-crucial work.

The "Re-Pilot" has a full outline written that is about seven pages long, with a script to follow after. Priority will re-shift back to this project once TGoGM and STJ are out the door, with a slowly metered development since it is an audio drama/planned comic. This production is more about assigning duties and waiting than any other task.

What about other projects?

Anything else besides these projects and the Bachelor of the Month series (currently on hiatus) is not an official SP project, and funds do not directly contribute to those projects, as they’re considered personal items by individual members.

As has been mentioned before, I (Sauce) also make personal works. And that’s part of why I’m the one handling this.

Many people still consider me a part of SP from a heading POV. But part of why I stepped down as "Boss" was because at the moment I’m juggling a college education, full or part-time employment, and healing from years of untreated mental health. It was no longer feasible for me to manage all of these things.

BáiYù instead is compensated to handle the business aspects, and is more capable to do so at this time. I help with Patreon art, tier rewards, and additional creative work while he's been the one writing the majority of the updates and dev reports. I also work on SDJ sprite art, and additional art assets (Steam page, GUI, graphics, etc.) but with my free time I have begun to prioritize taking moments to relax with some non-game art.

I have noticed people saying my work outside is SP work, or attributing it as such. I attempted to even use a separate alias to separate the two, but I guess my style is recognizable to a degree and tried to make the best of it by declaring otherwise myself.

Anything not SDJ, STJ, TGoGM, DB, AD, or BotM is not property of SnaccPop Studios. I've invited some of the individual team members to talk about the projects they do in their free time or as parts of other game studios as SP has a wonderful platform thanks to all of you, but always be sure to look for the official SP branding or else risk accidentally affiliating unrelated work with us.

That is such the case for me, and it could very well be that way for anyone else.

In conclusion...

At the end of the day, SnaccPop does its best to balance a busy, worthwhile Patreon and quality projects done by persons whose individual circumstances are acknowledged and respected. And we understand that a lot of things at once can look flighty and unfocused.

We really hope this breakdown helps, and we apologize for any issues that not having one up prior may have caused!

Making art is messy. Confining creative and quality visions to jobs and roles can be at the best of times spontaneous. But we’re happy to be able to employ or use our funding to pay and contribute to the lives of many different types of creatives in many different lifestyles.

Again, here's how our projects are looking:

SDJ is on track to arrive in 2024.

STJ and TGoGM are in their final stretches with more content to come after.

DB Classic is being stablized before wide release while DB: Barks & Mews is in pre-production

AD is in pre-production, but the personal circumstances of a key writer are making it a bit difficult!

Thank you all for taking the time to be a part of this! Literally, we could not even do that without you all. This is a privilege we take very seriously. And we’re working very hard behind the scenes to keep you updated, our team members with any work we can provide, and patrons entertained longterm and short term.

[prettymrswright]

Lockdown.

pairing: koffee!singer x black!fem choreographer/artist

content: fluff, barely angst, innuendos, a lot of patois (Koffee is from Spanish Town, she has a strong JA accent), mentions of God/spirituality, artistry, choreography, flashbacks.

background: you had been spending quite a lot of time with the reggae artist after meeting her at a Reggae Fest a few months back. as time went by, the two of you grew closer, but in attempt to keep up your guard and protect yourself, you pulled back. the artist didn’t like that too much, and def used she would double down on her interest. she wasn’t letting you go that easy.

a/n: to this day, there are not Koffee fics to be found so guess who’s here to change that like the manifestor human design that I am?? ME! i unintentionally made this character almost identical to me.. by accident. there are so many things about y/n in this book that is my true life story lmaooo.

I’m gone try to insert some translations here and there, even though patois is still english, I know some things are harder to comprehend. But it’s important I insert it because 1, it’s sexy and 2, I like to maintain accuracy. hope unnu like it. <3

translations:

deh - there

yah - here

nuff - a lot, plenty

dung - down

guh - go

unnu - you (plural, like you guys/ y’all)

dem - plural, noun (i.e friend dem (friends) )

pan/pon - on

guh - go

suh - so or how (A suh you feel? That’s how you feel?)

dolly - slang for attractive girl/woman

taglist: @dejaonline @saintwrld @inmyheadimobsessed @venusdraco @vampzxi @msplayas @abenomeiiii @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover @sapphicvqmpires @ventingfanfics

if you wanna be apart of my taglist, apply through the link pinned to my page!

If you wan to opt out, or only want to be tagged for someone specifically, those are also options!

LOCKDOWN PART 2!

"Okay sexy!" Your friend and fellow artist, Sabirah-Amani paraded your ear with praises and hype as you checked yourself out in your hotel mirror. You had been working for the past few months, project after project, and although you were grateful, you were two hops and a skip away from burnout. Between choreographing for artists and late nights in the studio in hopes of being your own artist, you hadn't much left to give. You were very clearly overextending yourself in all areas. You were ambitious and focused, precise about your work; You're an artist, and you were sensitive about your shit! However, you were beginning to neglect yourself emotionally and spiritually. You and Sabi came to the mutual decision that a vacation was much needed. The two of you spent the week catching appointments, pampering and refreshing your appearance. You give a small giggle before looking at her briefly and mimicking a hair-flipping motion. "Look you," She continues in her trini-yunese accent. "In short ting. All yuh collarbone outside." The two of you erupted in laughter. "And all of Jamaica will continue to see my collarbone, okay?" you responded, still laughing. Ochi was so beautiful. It was full of sights and bashments and raves and just beautiful people having a beautiful time. For a reason unbeknownst to you, everything out of Jamaica just resonated with you and held your heart so deeply. It had been your first morning in JA, and as expected, the sun was blazing. The bright sun and tropical breeze shone through your plexiglass balcony doors. You and Sabi were going to get breakfast as well as check out the rest of the hotel. A cocoa-beige brown triangle bikini set hugged your body, overlapped with a long, knitted skirt of the same color. A white, knitted long-sleeved cropped coverup laid baggy over your toned arms. Your feet rested in some rhinestone encrusted strap sandals. Your hair was braided in cornrows falling right above the dip in your lower back , swirl designs in every direction. It was entirely too hot for a full beat, so your fresh lash set was holding you down. "You ready to go?" You asked. "Let's do it. " Sabi replied, and with that, you were out of the room and off to the lobby.

After getting off the elevator, the two of you walked through the lobby to reach where you would be having breakfast at. After filling up your plates at the buffet, you took a seat in the far corner of the restaurant, a clear view of the beach across from you. "I know we just got here and everything but," Sabi started. "I kinda wanna jump into the vibes tonight." "Um absolutely, that was the plan from jump," You say in sort of a 'duh' tone. "But I know you need your rest. You know, some unwinding time." She says concerningly. Sabi was always looking out for you in that way, it was one of her greatest assets as a friend. "Girl, mi neva come a Jamaica fi lie dung. I got another week and a half to rest!" You say in a comedic way, but you meant it. You were already starting to feel better being in a newer and fresher feeling environment. Rest would come, but right now? Vibes. "Okay, okay!" Sabi laughed in a hearty manner. "Yo you and this Patois accent, knowing you not even Jamaican is frying me." You playfully rolled your eyes. It was true. You were in love with all things of different cultures, so each one you immersed yourself in, you began to pick up. Growing up in NY, all you were around were Caribbean people, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you. "Speaking of Jamaicans," Sabi began, and somehow, you knew what direction this was going in. "When's the last time you spoke to Mikayla?" "Who?" You lie, lazily spooning through your bowl of porridge. "Mikaylaaaa, Mikayla, Koffee, Big bad reggae artist from Spaintown, Jamaica, your woman--" She goes into a rampage and you cut her off. "Alrightttt, alright, alright. I get it" You rush her to end her tangent, hoping no one around you guys heard. "I don't know.. March?" You say, voice dying down at the end in cowardice. "MARCH?" Sabi's draw drops. "Y/N..it's June." A guilty expression washed over you. "I know, Sabi." "Why you duckin' her?" Sabi cocks up her left eyebrow and leans forward, curious to hear your answer. "I--" You drop your utensil in audacity. "Why you assume it was me?" "Girl, please okay. She was on your ass like back pockets at that Roc Nation Brunch. We both know you're Miss Ghost Town." Sabi says reading you for filth, pulling an accidental laugh out of you.

“I mean, she’s a big artist, she could have anyone she wants.” You shrug. “Her not hearing from me is barely putting a dent in her life plans.”

The truth was, prior to your disappearance, you two were becoming closer by the minute. You really liked Koffee. And with that, your body began to do that thing that it does when you’re about to be fully consumed by that feeling of infatuation. It wasn’t so much the idea of a relationship that you were scared of, but more-so of the uncertainty of its stability. Koffee was now an international artist, who meets thousands of people every day. You knew how it was in the industry, you were in it. It was one thing to really like someone, but to like someone in the entertainment industry was like setting yourself up for heartbreak. And you had entirely too much on your plate to go through that shit again.

“Who reached out last?” She asks.

“.. Her.” You say in a “so” type of tone.

“Mm.” She responds, strategically setting up her “aha” statement. “And who gave who an unlimited backstage pass for all her shows, in ANY city?”

“…her.” your defeated responses began to get smaller.

“And who—“ you cut her off, in attempts to stop the physically pain of her being right.

“Okay, okay, damn,” you laugh. “But you know how that shit go, Sav. One minute she thinks she wanna be with me and the next, she’s in some European country, with who knows, doing God knows what.”

“Uh, uh.” She says in disapproval. “Now you know she ain’t hunching with no white women.”

You burst into laughter. She could always tie something together comedically while simultaneously giving you the real.

“It don’t hurt to just say wassup, Y/N/N. I mean besides, when’s the last time you had any ‘fun’. Let loose a lil. If anyone needs to, it’s you.” Sab says, voice full of concern, but direction.

You looked off outside the window, pondering on her message. You missed her dearly. Who were you trying to fool? I mean maybe you were a little harsh. She didn't really give you any reason to be. Sure you'd seen some photo ops with her and other female artists, but that was her job. You didn't like the feeling it gave you though. When you look back towards Sabirah and her now empty plate, she was smiling at her phone. "And who exactly got you smiling like that?" You ask, now shining the figurative spotlight on her. "Oh it's nobody for real," She waved off. "Nobody huh," You chuckle. "What nobody say?" "Well actually, Nobody is gonna be at this party tonight that I planned on dragging you too." "Party?" You say frowning. "With all these white folks? Since when you wanna go to a resort party." "Oh girl, be so for real," She says scoffing. "My cousin JJ and his girlfriend are here at her family house, and they're throwing a bashment, off the resort." Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You were actually ecstatic to be getting into some real vibes off the resort. I mean, truly you had no real complaints, after all, you were in Jamaica. But country had the homegrown, feel good energy you were dying to be around. It was more authentic. "See now, that's what I'm talking about!" The two of you embraced in a dap across the table. "How we getting there?" "You ever been on a dirt bike before?" Sabi asks sincerely, yet you think she's joking. "What?!" ꨄ︎ Night begins to fall and as you and Sabi make your way out of the resort, a warm breeze surrounds your body. You two are greeted by JJ and his friend, Dwayne, and hop on the back of their blue and green dirt bikes. You wrap your arms around Dwayne's torso, tightly shut your eyes, say a small prayer and with a loud rev, you pull off into the rocky roads. When you finally gain to courage to open your eyes, you're blown away by how beautiful the scenery was. The hue of the sunset was mixed with orange, pink and purple, and tall trees took space along the sides of the open road. Each refreshing breath you took smelled like rain-bathed plants, summer and adventure. As a result of the fast-paced vehicle moving swifter and in the opposite direction of breeze flow, your braids flew past you forwardly. You couldn't help but to smile, in awe of all the beauty around you. "Woooo! JAMAICA WE REACH!" Sabi yells, cheers carrying across the sky, 80-mph. You beamed at her enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were just as excited. 20 minutes later, you pull into a backyard seemingly as big as 1/3 of the island. You were nowhere near the DJ booth, but you could feel the bass bumping through your entire body. If it weren't for the spacious area, you'd be packed like sardines. Everybody from the parish you were in were in attendance. Men dressed in their straight jeans, belts and button downs, marinas and cut-up shorts; most with spliffs in hand. Women in their mesh top and shorts, mini skirts, mini dresses, heels and bamboos, nails done and hair laid to the gods. This definitely wasn't the event to come looking regular. The aroma of seasonings and a burning grill slithered through your nose canal, causing you to avert your attention behind you, where hot plates of food and alcoholic drinks were being given out to the people in the line. It was definitely a vibe. "Ayeee allyuh mek it!" Sabi's cousin JJ comes and greets us both with a hug. "I saved two plates for y'all, cuz if it was any later, you'd be chewing your lip." You all erupt in laughter. "Omg J," you began. "You're the literal best because I am starving." "No sweat," JJ throws his hands up, emphasizing the 'no big deal.' "Your plates are in the fridge in the kitchen. Shelly's mom is holding it down, so you don't gotta worry about nobody theifing it." "Thanks Knucklehead," Sabi pinches his ear.

"Ouch! Remind me, I ent doing anyting nice fa yuh no more, yuh could starve!" JJ says to Sabi, rubbing his pinched ear.

"yUh couLd sTarVE!" Sabi mocks him. The two of them couldn't get along for more than 5 minutes, but it was always love behind their quarrel.

"Well look at you twooo!" JJ's girlfriend, Shelley approaches you with beaming smiles and open arms.

"Hot gyal Shells!" Sabi starts. "It's been a long time."

"Naa tell no lie! When JJ told me you two were visiting a resort so close by, I had to pull you for at least one night." Shelley says holding both you and Sabi's hands individually.

"Your home is beautiful Shells." You sincerely confess. "Thank you for the invite. Look at the turnout! You doing your big one."

"Thank you, babydoll. You know you're welcome absolutely any time. And I gotta put my ex party-promoting skills to some use!" Shelley replies.

Shelley threw crazy parties back in the day. She always was hosting, and was sure to not only bring in a crowd, but a GOOD one. Amongst many talents, she had the gift of gab for sure. She also always had artists in her venues. From Spice to Konshens, Shenseea to Aidonia. Everyone knew Shelley.

"I know that's right. Besides, I was getting tired of the resort food." Sabi says honestly, making us chuckle. The food was still good, but definitely a watered down version.

"Well!" Shelley clasps her hands together. "Dolly nuh come a party fi hug up pan wall. Unnu guh dance!"

"Don't nobody wanna dance with Paula the Preying Mantis." JJ teases Sabi, bending his arms up like the insect.

"Shut up, JJ!" Sabi says, giving his shoulder a hard nudge.

"Leave Sabi alone." Shelley follows up with a back-handed slap over his other shoulder. "I ain't wanna dance with you when we met. I just felt bad."

"Ohhhhhhh..." You and Sabi both say simultaneously, gagged by the way she just read him.

"Now why you had to go there? You ain't ha-" JJ began and Shelley cooed, half consoling him, half mocking. You and Sabi laugh your way all the way to the middle of the backyard, where the bulk of the party was.

You took in the scene around you and allowed yourself to get lost in the music. Sean Paul & Sasha’s I’m Still In Love with You is pouring out of the speakers and into your ears, filling you with nostalgia. You begin to rock side to side and slow whine your hips. It was definitely a bittersweet feeling. This was one of the songs you danced to at Reggae Music Fest with— her. You missed her. But she could’ve reached out right? You know, besides the 3 times she did already, that you were seemingly to busy for? That didn’t mean give up!

You and Sabi spun each other around and shared some whines and some laughs. You truly felt at peace for the first time in such a long time. You broke away for Sabi for one minute, and the next, she had a new dancing partner. You smiled at the interaction, and before you could really take it in, somebody approached you to dance with you as well.

“Excuse me likkle miss,” A tall, brownskin man with locs down his back approached you with a smooth, but respectful hand on your waist. “Beg yuh a dance nuh?” He smiled, showing off his fanged teeth.

He wanted to dance. Why not? You were out there to enjoy yourself. And at least you know the two of you could dance and that be it. It’s not like he was your type anyway— (obviously). What was truly the harm?

You gave him a smile, accepting his request & began to dance with him. Long before you knew it, you were dancing to another song with him. The man knew how to move. And he smelled phenomenal. Your moment was disturbed, however, when you began to notice two men in the far, right corner of the yard staring at you. And not in the admiring way; it was almost as if they were discussing you. Like they knew you from somewhere. The guy obviously felt it too.

“Yuh know dem from someweh?” He asks, semi-concerned. You just gave him a confused head shake, no.

“Yow yow yow, people, if yuh a enjoy yuhself tonight, mek some bloodclat noiseee!” The dj scratched and lowered the track to speak, and the crowd erupted.

“Outside nice, man. Good weather, sexy ladies, hot tunes. If a Jamaica yuh come from and yuh proud of it, buss a blank!” He continues.

Gun finger emotes fill the sky, followed by mimicked gunshot noises.

“This next song yah is fi all a di people dem weh love the Caribbean.”

Soon as the song begins, you feel your heart drop to your stomach and you’re adrenaline begin to rush.

Balenciaga 'pon me structure

Who them talk, push get the duck yah

I-i-i-io!

Everybody begins to cheer and holler to the feel good song.

It was West Indies.

West Indies was your favorite song by Koffee. It was such a feel good song, and you were there while she was constructing it. You knew it was close to her heart. She had even asked for your input. You encouraged her to push it out and make it a single. You knew the people would love it just as much as you did. And they did.

You felt yourself begin to get emotional, but you stopped the tears from advancing their welled-up position behind your lower lids. You migrated away from the main section, simply to avoid being asked to dance again. Not to this song. Too personal.

Sabi found you in the crowd and shot you a look of sympathy. “You okay?” she mouthed. You gave a closed lip smile and nodded. You decided to go get a drink and take some edge of. As bothered as you were, you still loved the song.

“One rum and pineapple, please.” You ask tell the lady serving drinks. You know you don’t have to pay anything, but you slip her a $10 anyway.

The mixed beverage slides down your throat and coaxes your nerves and you begin to let loose.

Coming from the West Indies

And you know say we giving them the best indeed

Anyweh we deh, we do a flex 'pon street

And the stylе weh we do no moderatе stampede

As you sway back and forth, cup in hand, approaching tipsy, you see a group of girls walking by, double-taking your face and your frame. They then begin whispering. All you could make out was “Koffee” and “Girl”.

Alright. What the fuck was going on?

You tried your hardest to ignore it, returning to your state of groove. As the chorus began to approach, the dj lowered the music once again.

“Alright everybody, mek some noise and big up Koffee!!!”

You froze. Immediately. Ironically when all you wanted to do was melt into the ground.

She was here. Of course she was.

And there she stood. In her black tank, showing between her opened and collared olive green button down, with olive green straight pants to match. She stood in black clarks. Her toffee brown skin being complimented by gold chains and gold bangles. Her medium-long locs held back in a hair tie in a loose bun.

Damn. She always looked good. But she would be looking her absolute best when you’ve been semi-dodging her.

If you know me, I'm having the time of my life

Don't you slow me down, beg you pardon me

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just, I wanna just

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just party, yeah

She walked back and forth the backyard stage, she captured the entire audience and held them hostage with her stage presence. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you’d be in awe too. She was alluring in that way.

Sabi looked back at you from the crowd with wide, just-as-shocked-as-you-are eyes. Koffee spotted her and followed her gaze, making eye contact with you. There she stood, taking you in. Almost immediately, she gives you a warm expression with soft eyes and a wide smile, showing off her braces. A couple people looked back to see who or what she was looking at; others continued to vibe.

Instantly you felt your body heat up, and you failed an attempted fight not to smile back. You missed her, and she looked great, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting so much time go by. However, something was telling you that she wasn’t phased very much. Seeing her up there in her element, you couldn't help but to think back to when the two of you first met at Reggaefest. She had been on the rise, heavy in the media, and the crowd was absolutely losing it. She had amazing stage presence. She wasn't too harmful on the eyes either. She went right after Lila Ike, who's dancers you choreographed. Koffee and her dancers walked up to the end of the stage and took a collaborated bow, hand in hand. Thank you Reggae Sumfest! You sat sideline, watching in awe. Her set was amazing.

Not to mention she wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. She had on a pair of light blue shorts, accented with white lines, a plain white tee, a blue fitted and AF1’s that looked like she bought them right before this set. Neck and wrists laced with that Caribbean gold. Her skin was glowing and glistening, sweat parading the circumference of it. Her locs were out, falling and standing right beneath her shoulders. With her team following, she walked and exited stage right, where you had been standing. She looked at you, and your rose your hands to clap for the artist, giving a closed-lip smile. She stopped in front of you gave you a small bow and a smile, appreciating your acknowledgement. You killed it, are you kidding?

A dat yuh seh?! She exclaims and smiles brightly. Respect, respect mama, thank you. Her speaking voice was just astonishing as her singing voice. The accent wasn’t making it any better either. What's your name? Y/N. She hummed at the sound of your name and repeats it. Y/N. I saw you and your dancers dem inna Lila's rehearsal. You have nuff talent. I'm a fan honestly. You scoffed in disbelief, shrugging off the compliment. Oh please. If any one should be a fan, it's me. Well I'd love if you came by one of the rehearsals. Y-you want me to choreograph? Absolutely. She stood trying to read your expression. Not sure if you were happy about the idea. I mean if yuh nuh want to, yuh nuh have to-- No I'd love to. Cool. She smiled brightly. Gimmi yuh numba and mi wi sen yuh all e details dem. If that's ok with you, of course. Yes of course. She takes out her phone and you type in your information. "Y/N." It was nice meeting you officially, Koffee. You can call me Mikayla. The pretty girls nuh have to call me by fi mi stage name. She throws you and wink and walks off to meet back up with her crew. If you weren't a professional at work and if you didn't have any morals, your clothes would be off. You felt your cheeks warm-up and you began to smile against your will. Not knowing this job opportunity would lead into a far more deeper connection.

You came back to reality, visited with a bittersweet feeling of a fond but seemingly distant memory. How did you get here?

She performed a few more songs before making her way off stage to navigate through the crowd and do her rounds with all her people. Panicked seized you as you ran to grab your friend.

“We gotta go, neowwww” You grab Sabi’s arm and begin tugging her away from whoever she had been dancing with and towards the direction you so desperately wanted to go in.

“N-now? But we just got here!” She replies in a semi-whiney tone. You in fact had been there for a couple of hours.

“Yes now— JJ! You ready?” You ask him.

“You ready to go?” He whisper-mouths. You nod & he takes a small sip of his red-stripe beer, taps his friends next to him and off you guys were.

As the two of you approached the resort again, a feeling of relief washed over you. You were somewhat disappointed that you let your anxiety take over you, but at least you left before you were confronted. And you knew you would be.

You hug the boys and thank them before walking in and heading up to your room.

“That party was active, wasn’t it Sab?” you say, walking in, somewhat telling the truth. somewhat deflecting.

“Yeah, until you busted it, party pooper.”

You drop your jaw and gasp, fake taken aback as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Whaaat? me? What did I do?”

“wHaT dId i Do!?” she mocked you. “You chickened out on the vibes cuz your girlfriend came and you dodging her.”

“I did not! And she is not my girlfriend.” You start picking things up around y’all room and tidying up, needing something to focus you.

“Nah, Y/N/N, you on some wack shit right now, I won’t even front.”

She wasn’t wrong. If she did want to talk, what was the harm? She didn’t even do anything to you. But what if she hated you? And now you made it even worse, because she SAW you and you ran. She probably thinks you’re dodging her. But aren’t you? You desperately wished you would get it together.

“I mean what was I supposed to do?” You turned to face her.

“I don’t know, maybe talk to her? I mean what you think she gone say, marry me?” She semi-chuckled.

“K likes you, a lot. I can tell. And I think she’d be really good for you. But you gotta believe that you deserve it. Don’t let your overthinking cause her to slip out of your hands.”

You chewed at your bottom lip in thought, pondering on all of the different ways the night could’ve went. You always did this. Self-sabotage, and then beat yourself up over it. It was starting to get old, even for you.

“Imma let you sit with that. I’ll be back, I’mma hit the bar down in the lobby. Get me another lil drinky-drink, okayyy!” She says grabbing her things and you playfully roll your eyes.

“What? Okay don’t look at me like that, your night is over, not mine!” You give a hefty laugh, and slightly nudge her. You do your signature handshake, and she’s off.

Quickly after she unlocks the door with her key and runs back in.

“Almost forgot my hand fan. You know that liquor coat get serious. K bye love you!” And she’s out again. You laugh to yourself. That girl could drink.

You continue tidying up, even though there’s not much to tidy. But any form of cleaning/organizing grounded you, and now in this moment, you needed nothing more but to be grounded.

You were on your way to sit down when there was a subtle knock at your door. Leave it to Sabi to have forgotten something.

You walked up to the door, unlocked it, and began opening it. “What’d you forget this time S—“

Startled, you jump at the sight of who was actually standing before you.

“M-Mikayla?”

“Oh, so you do know who I am?” She says tauntingly, letting herself in. You close the door behind her, eyes following her movements, still in shock.

“I was starting to think seh yuh did forget about me eno?” And she flashes that smile again.

“How did you find me?” You ask sincerely, feeling sort of turned-on, not that you would admit it.

“The gyal who Sabi cousin deh wid told me you’d be here.” Shelley. I should’ve known. It was no coincidence that out of all people, Koffee would be performing there when I was. It started to click. This was a collaborative effort from Sabi and Shelley.

You gave an exhausted sigh as you prepared to plead your innocence. “Look, K, I didn’t mean to run off how I did I j—“

“Oh so you weren’t dodging me then?” She pries, stepping closer to you, waiting to see if you’d lie.

“I-i mean, no. Well, not on purpose.” You half tell the truth. She wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Oh suh yuh dweet fi accident?” She gives a sarcastic laugh. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and for once, you wish it was from sunburn and not your own shame.

“I just thought..” You paused, debated telling her the truth or not. Awaiting your answer, she folds her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrows.

You decided to give in. She went through all this trouble.

“I don’t know, I ain’t really think you’d be checking for me like that. You know, with everything you got going on.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, fidgeting with your bracelet, ironically, the one she brought back for you on your second date. She looks down at it, giving a small, satisfied smirk, thankfully feeling not totally closed off from you like she almost thought.

“A mi tell yuh dat?”

You shook your head no.

“So you assumed,” She began. “I mean which part mek yuh feel like seh I wasn’t ‘checking’ for you?” She lightly mocked. “The repeated calls, or the double-triple texts?”

You chuckled bitterly at her sarcasm, and also at the fact that you couldn’t pin her to be wrong.

“If yuh nuh interested anymore,—“ She began and you couldn’t stomach her even continuing that thought.

“No, no.” You quickly interrupted her. You gave a heap of sigh before you would began to be totally honest with both her and yourself at the same time.

“I like you. I really fucking like you. And that’s the problem. You’re charming, you’re charismatic.. you fine…” you say trailing off that last part, making her laugh heartily.

“You have such a big heart. And if I, as the tough cookie and critic that I am can fall for you, I know girls all around the world are. I’d be lying if I said the thought of that didn’t make me ragingly jealous, but I also like you so much, that I don’t wanna deprive you of that opportunity. There could be someone far better for you out there. You could meet her tomorrow, hell, you could’ve met her already. See i’m all over the place and I—“

“Y/N.” She gently grabs your elbow and gives it a tug to bring you closer. “I appreciate your interest in my well-being. But mi neva ask yuh fi do dat, baby.”

“I chose you fi a reason. If mi really felt like seh a somebody better out deh fi mi, mi woulda neva run down yuh phone.” You laugh at her comedic delivery.

“I’m not perfect, but when mi love somebody mi love deep. A you mi want, and I knew that then and I know that now. All mi ask of you is to put it a likkle effort.”

She raises her hand to wipe the couple of tears that began to fall from your eyes. When you finally looked up at her, all you could do was nod. Nobody had ever went these lengths to show you that they cared before, and it meant so much that the person who was doing so was someone you considered your best friend. Mikayla knew you like the back of her hand. She could pull you out of any mood and place you in a better one, no matter the circumstance. And right now in this moment you felt so safe and so seen. And all you could think about was how silly you had been acting, and how silly it would be to let her go.

“Don’t cry baby.” She pulled you close to her and held you tight.

“I-i’m sorry for n-not answering you I—“ You let your vulnerability take over, and she consoled you before you could even get it out.

“Yuh nuh have to explain to me. Just mind yuh nuh pull away from me like that again, y’hear?” She pulls your chin up to her, switching her gaze between both of your eyes.

You lean into her and the two of you share a kiss. A pair of lips you have been longing to feel and haven’t felt in months. Instantly you felt a rush of emotions, all of which you felt when the two of you first met.

“Cuz mi need. All. of dis. yah love yah.” She repeatedly pecked you between each fragment, making you giggle into her lips.

“Okaaay, okay!” You say fake fighting her off. Truthfully you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. You wrapped your arms around her neck and hoisted yourself up, locking your legs around her waist. You missed this feeling. You missed her. But you don’t know peace. Not yet.

“.. So who was that girl on stage who was tryna dance with you?” You playfully start an argument.

“Oh nuh start yuh fuckry, Y/N please.” She laughs and carries you out to the next room. And the two of you fall into each other all over again.

[accio-victuuri]

YIBO IS TRULY THE BEST BOY. It’s not a secret that he loves dancing and would do everything to promote it. Especially street dance, he’s done so much to make sure it gets a good reputation in CHN and looked at as something cool instead of a negative. In SDC Season 5, I lost count of how many times he was talking about breakdance being part of the asian games and the olympics. and it’s not even “promo” — you can see that he is genuinely excited. Even before that, his message was always, as a dancer, one must compete globally.

So reading this post by the director of the promo for Asian Games is another proof of that. He is really someone who puts his time, money and talent into things that he is passionate about. Truly less of a “celebrity” and more of a role model 🤍

Thanks to the general director for their appreciation, the Asia Organizing Committee, and the Zhejiang Street Dance Association support. This is a public welfare film, everyone supports and pays no matter the cost. Yibo also paid a lot of money and fully cooperated with my unrestrained strategy. Plan and shoot like a special forces soldier.

As a young director who has only made movies (even a bit artistic), When the leader found me, I thought we were going to collaborate on a short film. All planning and storyboarding are prepared according to the movie.

One month before the start of the film, I learned a good news and a not-so-good news. The not-so-good news is: the leader characterized the film as a public service announcement (budget is limited and narrative techniques cannot be adapted from movies). The good news is: even if you only have a small budget, there is someone who loves street dance. A good dancer is willing to co-star. After knowing this, I was low on budget for a long time and there was not enough to complete the concept.

Then Wang laoshi contacted us through the studio and recommended a choreographer. We chose the dance soundtrack together and even expressed our full cooperation. Wang laoshi is much busier than me, as everyone else is. What else can we say? Risk it and Keep up the good work!

source.

[redflagfan]

I played the “Shattered Souls” demo, and you should too! (Mini review)

TL;DR: I am so excited for the full release of this this fun dark fantasy isekai otome game!

Shattered Souls is an upcoming game by @eternallovestudios. They just launched their Kickstarter and you can check out their short demo (one to two hours) on Steam or on itch.io.

In the words of the studio...

Celeste finds herself fighting for her life after enduring a betrayal that no one should experience.

As she nears her final breath, she is whisked away to a different world: Remoire.

Things are not as they seem, though. She’s not a mortal. Her past is as vast as the ocean. Her soul is fractured and barely holding together from the traumas she’s faced and forgotten. She must heal herself or even the tiniest tragedy could shatter her. But she’s not the only one who is broken.

Join Celeste as she fights not only to save her own life, but to change the lives of those around her. 

Will you traverse worlds, realms, and even time itself? Will you test your fate? Will you try again?

I played the demo, and I can't wait for more!

In this game, you play as Celeste - a mortal (?) girl determined to seek revenge, but also tied to seven different men (the romanceable characters). These are:

Marris: Literally God

Lance: The Actual "White Knight"

Shiro: Tsundere Demon Hunter

Ezra: Warrior Priest

Aizen: The Emperor

Karver: Childhood Best Friend

Eternal: ???

Basically, in the demo, you get introduced to Celeste's world and meet all these men. While this demo was short, it left me wanting more!

Here's what I liked:

The voice acting!! I love that this is a fully voice acted demo. It added so much to the game. Marris had me honestly laughing out loud!

The soundtrack! The music in this demo was beautiful. I can't wait to hear more of it.

The atmosphere! There was some tonal whiplash just in this demo, and I thought the devs did a great job of having me laughing but just a few minutes later, creating a dark, creepy atmosphere.

The art! Beautiful backgrounds and character design, especially on our MC, Celeste. She was so pretty I found myself just staring at her sprite the whole time!

And of course...the men! Seven is an ambitious amount of LIs, but I appreciated that each of them came off as distinct and unique. Plus, as someone who is a sucker for tsunderes and the childhood best friend trope, I can already tell who I'm going to go for first hahaha.

Basically, this game immediately sucked me in. I really enjoyed the world the demo set up and it left me wanting more - especially because there were a lot of questions raised that don't have answers yet. It feels like a lot of work went into building this fantasy world and I want more!

The writing is really good too and some of the lines were kinda silly, but the VAs said them with their chest lmao so it was good. I really liked the story. I feel like isekai is everywhere these days but this seems like it'll be something different from the usual.

I really recommend checking out this demo, and if you can, supporting the Kickstarter! I already have lmao. Please do because one of the stretch goals is a NSFW DLC.........

[kaitlynpcallmebeepme]

Paint the Night Sky

Paint the Night Sky

Bang Chan x member!reader (more like the love he gives all his members)

Idea: Based off of this: https://youtube.com/shorts/zQg00zBAK30?feature=share 

Member!reader and maybe felix takes bang chan shopping and gets him some colorful clothes and stay asks who designed it and he's cute about saying it was her 

Requested: Nope. 

Author’s Note:  I know no one asked for anything Stray Kids related, but I wanted to do something short for Bang Chan’s birthday!  (me face palming and picking this up a year later the day after his birthday, but on my birthday) I am working on some other ideas, including a pt 2 to Late Night Talking, a couple Spencer Reids, and Bucky Barnes one but I am trying to make those longer and more like an episode, so they’re taking a bit longer to write.  Also, if anyone is a STAY and wants to talk Stray Kids, message me because I would like some STAY friends pls.  Last thing, I couldn’t tell you what their dorm looks like now, so just imagine that they still all live together. I also couldn’t find Chan in a pink hoodie, but I feel like the pink dolfin one would be a hoodie he’d like.  The title also sucks. lol.

Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  

Warning: None, just general fluff.

Word Count: 570

You walked into the dorm with Lee Know after a bit of personal dance practice.  It’s nice to practice with everyone, but it’s also nice to do some one-on-one practice to really help with your improvement.  And who better than Lee Know to guide you.

“Do you want to help me make some food?”  Lee Know asks you as he heads toward the kitchen.

“Yeah.  I’ll put on something for us to listen to in the background.”  You pull out your phone and see that the recent episode of two kids in a room came out, so you put that on as the background noise.  

You start by cutting the cabbage to put in the tteokbokki.  While Lee Know searched the freezer for something to fry.  You both continue to make food for the boys as the episode plays in the background.  There’s one particular bit of audio that catches your attention though.  

Chan: "I need someone to go together. I can't shop at all."

Felix: “You Always Buy Black Clothes. You look like a Reaper.”

This got you thinking and you had to ask Lee Know to be sure.  “Lee Know-hung?”

“Hmm”

“Does Channie-hung wear anything colorful?”

It took a second of silence for Lee Know to come up with an answer.  

“I don’t keep track of what he wears.”  That was the most Lee Know answer he could come up with.  “But if he does, then usually the stylist put him in it.”

“Yeah, he wears a lot of black.” That got you thinking and your mind set on what to do tomorrow.

You two continued preparing food as the rest of the boys came in from doing their various activities throughout the day.  When you saw Chan come into the kitchen, you enact your plan. 

“Channie-hung, you doing anything tomorrow?” 

“I was going to be in the studio then do Channie’s room, but I got nothing planned for the morning.”

“Good we’re going shopping.”  

“Ok.”  No an argument or anything, but Channie would honestly do anything for us.  

“Be ready to leave at 8.”

*Time skip to next morning*

You and Channie head down to the shopping district in Seoul.  Could you have done this online? Yes. But it’s like Christmas shopping.  It’s better when you get out there and get the full experience.  

You had to pull Chan away from anything black and white because he has a million of those already.  You had to do that more times than you can count.  You ended up going with a baby pink hoodie and baby blue shirts just to ease him into color more.  

“You sure you like…” Before you could even finish, you were captured in one of Chan’s hugs.  One of the ones that is fruitless to attempt to escape.  

“It’s cute! I love it Y/N.” 

Chan wore that hoodie all the way back to the dorms.  You parted ways when Chan went to the studios and you went up to the dorms.  A few minutes later, you see the notification of Chan doing Chan’s Room for Stay.  

Transcript from the live.

“Hi Stay. Hi. Hellooooooooooo.  Welcome to Channie’s Room.”  

“Chan you look so lovely. No, Stays look more lovely.  Chan you look so cute.  Yeah, um… Y/N picked the sweater because I’m told I need more colorful clothes *stands up so Stay can see his sweater* it has dolphins on it. I like it.”   

[3terna15unshin3]

Rockstar

Matty won't shut up about Este's success

1103 words

—

a/n: Once again this was not requested but I looooovveeee the idea of Matty being Este’s biggest supporter through big moments in her career so here i wrote about it🥰🥰 it’s a bit short but lmk what u think!

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here if you want more Matty and Este😌)

—

“A 35,000 person capacity festival is just unfathomable to me. I can’t even picture that many people—let alone going up and performing for them. Being present in the crowd at your headline set back in 2019, where I specifically remember being impressed by you and your rockstar-esque poise and confidence, I can’t help but wonder if these crazy performances are an easier pill to swallow now? With that experience?”

Matty humbly shot down the ‘rockstar’ comment.

“That’s very kind, but I mean the festival crowds are something I really will never get used to. The pure size of them is one thing, but there’s also this energy of needing to win them over. Keep their attention. It’s a lot of pressure, so I don’t think I can say that I find it easy.”

The interviewer nodded their head in understanding, comfortably sat on a chair across from Matty and asking him a few questions before him and the band took the stage at Big Weekend 2023 in Dundee.

“Yeah, totally. And I’m sure it’s interesting going straight into a summer full of these big festivals straight after the break you’ve just been on, right?” They asked.

He draped one leg over the other before answering. “A bit. It’s always nice to warm back up with a headline show since that’s where we feel the most comfortable. Also—as silly as it sounds—three weeks was a long fucking time. For me, at least. When we’re in an album cycle and touring the shit out of it, it’s so rare for us to stop for that long.”

“What do you get up to when you’re off nowadays? I can sense a workaholic vibe from you, so is that time spent in the studio? Jumping to the next thing now that Being Funny has been out and heard and loved?” The interviewer said in a thick Scottish accent, shuffling their cards as they spoke.

“You sensed the vibe correctly,” Matty confirmed, “though it’s not entirely ‘work’ to me, I guess. It’s just the way I make sense of the world, sort of dunno what else I’d do. So yes, I did write and I am working on the next album. But I didn’t get around to it right away, since I spent some time celebrating first,”

“That’s a very artistic answer, Matty. That writing isn’t work and is ‘the way you make sense of the world’,” They joked, earning a sheepish chuckle from Matty. “May I ask if you were celebrating anything in particular? The success of your UK tour?”

“It wasn’t that self indulgent,” he explained, “I was hoping you’d ask because I love talking about it. My girlfriend is a writer for The Guardian, and she just had a huge piece of hers published. She’s the real rockstar out of the both of us, to be honest.” Matty’s face immediately lit up at the chance to gush about Este, figuring she wouldn’t mind.

He thought back to moment she gave him a call to break the news with a fond smile.

“Hi, love.” he said after he picked up.

Este was bursting at the seams with joy to say what she said next. She couldn’t even bear to greet him a ‘hello’ back.

“It’s going to be on the front.”

He dropped the chopsticks once gripped in his hands. “You’re fucking joking.”

Her smile was so wide it hurt her cheeks as she paced around the small office she shared with a few other writers she worked with. She giggled, nodding even though Matty couldn’t see her.

“17th of May. They chose mine as the Culture spotlight,” Este explained, “So there’s a snippet headline on the cover, and then you’ll flip to Books & Entertainment and my name will be the biggest one. Not just in my usual column.”

“You’re fucking joking me!” He repeated himself, audibly joyful with a volume so high she had to pull her phone away from her ear.

“Matty, you’re screaming. I hope you’re not in public,”

He was, and didn’t care. “I’m at a very nice and small Japanese restaurant that is so quiet that every single person here is looking at me like I’m crazy, for your information. Este’s on the fucking cover!” Matty exclaimed equally as loud.

She heard busy and happy commotion in the back, making out a few congratulatory remarks from the guys and the touring crew. Blush crept onto her cheeks, trying to squeeze a ‘thank you’ through to them between Matty and his continued rambles.

“I’m just so fucking proud, baby. Every time I get to read the newest thing you write it somehow tops the last—I don’t know how you do it. Actually, it’s quite annoying. Seems too effortless. It’s about time they print your name all big!” he endlessly complimented.

“I love you so much.” Este shortly said.

He could hear the grin in her voice. “Can’t be that much if I love you more,” Matty argued, “Sorry that was a bit cringe. Hann is rolling his eyes. You’re in love too, bro! Don’t act like I’m weird for it!”

“Her name’s Este Manansala, by the way. M-A-N-A-N-S-A-L-A,” Matty spelt out her surname to make sure they got it correctly, “She writes on books and literature, so it was an article about Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, a new novel out. A really, really thought-provoking conversation about white vs. minority authors—the nuances of being an author of colour. From a great perspective, too, since she’s Filipino and a woman and an immigrant. You should go read it,”

He stared down the camera lens to the hypothetical viewers, as if he could say it straight to them.

“But hell, check out all of her past stuff as well. Genuinely the most humble and intelligent human I’ve ever known. Plus I’ve written pretty much every love song of mine since like 2019 about her, so if you like my music then you have her to thank as well. Anyway—I’ve just overtaken this interview to talk about my girlfriend—sorry, mate.” apologised Matty, though he wasn’t all that apologetic.

“Don’t be sorry! I love it. She sounds incredible,” The interviewer beamed, matching his energy and feeling the admiration Matty had for her through the air.

“She is.” He smiled wide.

“If she really is the rockstar like you described, I feel like I can say that you’re her groupie.”

They belly-laughed together. Matty pictured Este’s smug expression and the way she’d definitely use that line to tease him in the future.

“Oh—I’m telling her you just said that. She’ll love it. Because you 100% can.”

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Danny Does Dallas

Pairings: porn star au Danny X Sam ***SLASH PAIRING if that’s not your thing please scroll on

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!, strong sexual content, fingering (m receiving), mm sex, lots of swearing, obviously Danny being a porn star, this has nothing to do with the actual av I just thought the name was clever, very little editing

Word count: 5k

Keep it together Danny he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the task at hand. This was his job, what paid the bills, and if he wasn’t able to perform without distraction then maybe he wasn’t the professional he always thought himself to be.

*click*

Fuck the sound was even louder with his eyes closed.

*click click*

Danny’s eyes flickered back open as his grip tightened and he finished his duty just as the part called for.

The sound stopped and he felt himself relax.

Damn camera man always getting so close…

Now that the set was finished he got cleaned up and wrapped himself in his personalized robe. The back donned with his name in script with shimmery gold embroidery Danny. Like everyone here didn’t already know who he was.

Having worked up an appetite he made his way to the snack table always situated in the back right corner of the studio next to the hallway for the dressing rooms.

Unexpectedly though when he arrived at the table he found a familiar scruffily face, shoulders donned with a thick black camera strap holding what looked like a heavy piece of equipment around his neck also sampling a few of the day's variety of refreshments.

“Umm hey, Samuel right?” Danny worked up the courage to greet the other boy as he reached towards the same plate of fruit as he was currently snacking on.

“Just Sam is ok” he replied, surprised that he was being spoken to.

“Alright, Sam” Danny repeated, sorry that he was having to part with any syllable of the boy's full given name.

A brief moment of silence fell between the two as the rest of the crew seemed to be busy prepping the studio for the next scene. Surely there was something the two could be doing to prepare as well, but now that the ice had been broken, neither were ready to walk away.

Danny plucked a rather large strawberry off the shared tray, bringing the plump heart shaped fruit to his lips and sinking his teeth into the flesh, it was a juicy one. A little pink dribble rolled down his chin, threatening to drip onto his fluffy white robe.

“Oh, here” Sam quickly reached over and rubbed his thumb over the spill, collecting the juice off Danny’s chin.

Sam froze when he felt his touch on Danny’s skin for the first time. Embarrassed that he’d reached over without thinking first. He tried to retract his hand quickly, but his wrist was caught by Danny bringing his thumb into his mouth to lick off the rest of the taste of strawberry.

“Thanks” Danny licked his lips as he let go of Sam’s arm.

“Ah, no problem, anytime!” Sam nervously replied.

What the fuck Sam? ‘Anytime’? This guy is going to think you’re a weirdo!

Danny chuckled as he watched Sam realize what he’d just said, his embarrassment revealing itself on his face.

When Sam first replaced their old photographer Danny was unsure of the boy. He always came to work dressed in old patterned button up shirts mismatched with either a pair of sweatpants or if it was particularly hot outside shorts. With it being a very hot summer in Texas this year, shorts were worn more often than not these days.

Sam didn’t look like the usual photographer he was used to working with. Instead of older and out of shape, some of them even gave off a creepy vibe, Sam was young. Just about Danny’s age if he had to guess. He was tall, not quite as tall as Danny though, and very dainty from the way his shirts hung loosely around his shoulders to the barely there curve of his waist. It didn’t take long working together in very close quarters to start to develop an interest in him.

“You did really well today, think I got some good shots for your promo” Sam placed his hand on top of his camera, bringing the conversation to a professional tone, but Danny’s mind was anywhere but being professional when around Sam.

“Hmm, I think I’d much rather see you up there one of these days. You’d look just as good as I do behind the camera”.

Holy shit Danny, you can’t just insinuate someone would look good doing porn.

“Ah, you’re joking!” Sam tried to shrug off the compliment although his face was turning red again.

Is THE Daniel Wagner flirting with me right now? Is that what’s happening?

“Am not” Danny replied, taking one hesitant step forward to keep the conversation personal as a few people started passing by to get to the dressing rooms.

“Wait” Sam spoke, stopping Danny in his tracks. “Is that a Michigan accent?”

Danny smiled, unaware that he’d even let his accent slip, caught up in the moment. “Yes, how’d you guess?”

“I’m from Michigan too!” Sam beamed excitedly. It had been the first time he’d ever met another native Michigander in Texas before, and it was Danny of all people. “I can’t believe I never noticed that before”.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever talked much before” Danny mentioned, hoping that would change after today.

“You’re right. I don’t think I’ve heard you say anything other than ‘fuck’ or ‘right there baby’ before”. It was Sam’s turn to make Danny blush as he jokingly tried to copycat Danny at work.

“How did you end up in Dallas?” Sam questioned after another awkward silence fell. Trying to revive the conversation so he didn’t have to walk away awkwardly.

Danny opened his mouth to speak but another approached him from behind. “Danny, you ready for the next scene?”

Danny looked over his shoulder to see the entire set had already been changed while he was caught in his head talking to Sam. He asked the crew member for just a few more minutes and turned back to Sam. There was one more thing he wanted to say. The reason why he’d approached him in the first place.

“How about I tell you about it tonight over drinks? If you’re free?” Danny invited hoping that Sam would immediately say yes.

“Oh, I don’t know. Depends on where you want to take me. I don’t do disco clubs” Sam smiled and Danny’s heart nearly blew out of his chest thinking about Sam dressed to the dime standing in the colorful flashing lights under a mirrored disco ball.

“Oh, then we can go wherever you’d like?” Danny would agree to anything at this point, he just wanted to see Sam anywhere but here. Somewhere they could talk, get to know each other, see where the night took them.

“Alright. I’ll see you after work then” Sam plopped one more piece of fruit into his mouth and walked back towards the set, fiddling with his camera on the way.

Work… right! Danny gathered his composure before leaving for his dressing room to get touched up. He’d been so out of it today he hardly remembered what the next scene was until he was walking back out onto set in nothing but a pair of black boots, a black cowboy hat, and his small gold necklace that laid out across his collarbone.

Danny kept his eyes fixated on the girl performing reverse cowgirl on him but the sound of camera lenses shuttering in his ear made it impossibly hard to keep his mind where it needed to be.

“Hair! His hair is in his face, someone move it!” The director called out. Danny’s hands were occupied in a close up of him gripping the girl's ass so instead the person nearest to him reached over and brushed the ringlet curls back for him, readjusting the cowboy hat that had been threatening to fall off for the last 10 minutes.

Danny made eye contact with Sam for the first time since the scene began, wishing badly that it was Sam’s ass he had a grip on at the moment.

Sam fixed him up nicely and took a few steps back, snapping one last shot before it was all over.

Why did he look at me like that? His heart thumped while he stared at the other man through the lens of his camera. He’d noticed Danny giving him looks here and there since he started, but never once thought he’d actually be interested in him.

Satisfied with all the shots he got today Sam decided to leave the studio first while they wrapped up. Gently taking his camera apart and storing it in its case until its next use.

Danny panicked a little when he didn’t see Sam later. He wondered if maybe he’d come on too strong and either made Sam feel uncomfortable or he was having second thoughts about going out with essentially a coworker. Danny’s mind was put at ease though when he returned to his dressing room and saw a single piece of paper folded over his chair containing a time and an address for them to meet up tonight with a simple message at the bottom:

Bring the cowboy hat

After a trip home for a shower and a change of clothes Danny was finding his way through the rough alleys of downtown Dallas. Looking up from the piece of paper with the scribbled out numbered address he saw a street lined with muscle cars and bikes. A crowd of young men and women dressed in distressed denim and leather crowded around the door to the venue. He was feeling a little bit self conscious about agreeing to wear the hat out in public now, but who was he to have denied a request made by Sam?

Once inside he scanned the crowded bar filled with billiards tables and an empty yet fully prepared stage in the back for a familiar face. Finally between the stage and the bar was Sam dressed finer than he’d ever seen him before in black slacks, a matching black blazer, and an impossibly tight red ribbed shirt.

“Fancy seeing you here” Sam casually commented when Danny approached to take a seat at the bar next to him.

“This is not what I expected when I suggested you pick the place” Danny admit, still glancing around and taking in the smoke filled atmosphere. “How do you know about this place?”

“My band plays here sometimes” Sam revealed to Danny’s surprise.

“You’re in a band?”

“Yeah, I play bass and keys. I’m off the hook tonight, still get lucky with cheap drinks here though”. He lifted his glass he had in the same hand as a cigarette tucked between his middle and pointer finger up to his lips and tossed what was left back before calling the bartender over to order more.

“So, what took you so long to ask me out?” Sam questioned when they both had another glass to accompany the conversation.

His eyes went wide, had Sam noticed Danny checking him out?

“It’s just we’re the same age, and we seem to have a lot in common. Just wish we would have done this sooner” Sam continued. He seemed to have a lot more confidence in talking to Danny outside of work, but not seeing him naked was helping a lot in keeping his cool.

“No, you’re right, I’ve wanted to get to know you more for quite some time now”. Danny took a large swig of his glass, trying to find his game as he used the excuse of grabbing a napkin that was placed in a pile right in front of Sam to inch his barstool closer to him. “Why haven’t you asked me out?”

Danny was so close now he could hear Sam sucking in a breath of air before his response.

“I didn’t realize you were… into me?” Sam phrased his reply like another question at the end, still not sure what exactly it was they were doing right now even with the heavy flirting that was going on.

Danny chuckled, sliding his hand across the bar top to where Sam’s was still resting on his glass, barely brushing his fingertips against his. “Why would I not be into you? You’re gorgeous. Especially dressed like this. Did you do that on purpose? Dress up for me so I’d go wild for you?” The words were rolling off Danny’s tongue straight into Sam’s ear causing Sam’s thoughts to run rampantly in circles.

“No, I alway dress like this when I go out” he denied even if the thought had crossed his mind when he was getting ready.

“Why don’t you dress like this at the studio then?”

“Don’t want to call any attention to myself. Seems that didn’t go over very well now did it?” He removed his hand from his glass which was also pulling away from Danny’s touch and took a long drag of his cigarette before running his fingers through his hair as he exhaled.

Danny wanted to lean forward even further, he wanted it to be his fingers tugging through the strands of Sam’s silky chestnut waves, but instead he sat back and watched, pulling his hand back into his lap and squeezing.

“No, it didn’t. I lose focus every time you’re around me. Even today when you brushed my hair out of my face for me. I wanted to thank you for that”.

Sam nervously laughed, trying not to vividly picture Danny’s pleasured expression he’d grown to be very fond of. “I was just doing my job”.

“Even then, thank you”. Now that Danny was pulled out of Sam’s bubble, his senses no longer completely enveloped in the boy's form next to him, he heard the songs playing in the background through the speakers and caught a glimpse of something interesting. “Hey, do you want to…”

Sam’s eyes flickered to the door, his clouded mind already assuming what the question was.

“Go pick a song with me?” Danny finished his sentence making Sam release the breath of air he’d been holding in. A sigh mixed with a semi relieved, semi disappointed laugh following.

“Sure” Sam stood from the bar first but waited for Danny to lead the way across the floor to the very large jukebox full of the hottest bands most recent hits.

Danny pulled out a few quarters from his pocket and slotted them into the machine as Sam leaned against it and flipped through the options.

He would have sat there for the rest of the night and listened to Sam talk about the music he liked, which was a lot, but eventually he settled and his choice came spilling out into the bar for everyone else to hear as well.

A slight pang of jealousy raised through Danny’s thoughts as he saw a few fellow patrons excited about the new music. He didn’t want to share Sam’s favorite song with them, he wanted to take him home and have Sam pick through his very own record collection and listen to all of his and Sam’s collective favorites alone together. Instead they returned to their spot at the bar and ordered more drinks.

The night was moving along, drink after drink was being poured as Sam and Danny talked about their lives leading up to landing in the same studio in Dallas.

They had all but forgotten they weren’t alone in the bar together, stealing glances of exposed skin around Sam’s mid-drift and Danny’s tight shirt sleeves, and fleeting touches of their hands against each other on the bar top.

“Hey! You look familiar” a random guy passing by the bar on his way back from the bathroom stopped and pointed his finger directly at Danny causing the two of them to jump out of their own little world and back into the real time setting.

“Sorry man, don’t know you” Danny tried to brush him off and turn away, hoping he’d get a hint, but the man persisted.

“No, aren’t you that guy that does adult films? Yeah that’s you! Hold on, let me go get my buddies. They'd love to meet you. I bet you got some crazy stories!” The guy was stumbling, he’d clearly had more than enough to drink for the night, acting loud and obnoxious as he hollered across to a group of guys at the opposite end of the bar.

Danny was already visibly getting irritated at the man’s behavior. He didn’t mind being recognized in public, but he didn’t get along with drunken assholes causing scenes in bars. “Look, I’m glad you're a fan and all. You want one picture or something that’s fine, but then we’d like a little privacy”. Despite his annoyance Danny was at the moment remaining very calm even as a few of the guy’s also drunk friends walked over at his call.

“No we don’t need a picture. I’ll tell you what you can do for us. I bet you have the phone numbers of some of those babes in your films? Call them up! Invite them out! Better yet, give us their numbers!”

The guys all chimed in when they realized what was unfolding, the commotion starting to draw attention to the area.

“The girls I work with are professionals and I can guarantee you they would not go out with guys like you even if you weren’t being complete assholes right now” Danny finally snapped, insulting them and honoring his colleagues all in one breath.

“No need to get an attitude pretty boy” they were starting to get pissed off in return. Not realizing how their drunkenness and crude remarks were not invited to their side of the bar.

“Look he said no, now leave us alone” Sam quipped having been mostly silent until now but no longer being able to just sit and watch as Danny got harassed.

“Oh who do we have here? I see you fuck girls on camera and girly boys off camera” the first man to interrupt them spoke again followed up with a few laughs from his friends.

Danny jumped out of his seat immediately and put his tall frame between Sam and the man as he began to reach over and try to grab a handful of his hair. The hair Danny wanted to touch and Danny only.

“So he is your boyfriend!” The man and his friends laughed even harder. “We should have known looking at the way you’re dressed” he flicked his fingers against the rim of Danny’s cowboy hat, nearly knocking it off of his head with the force.

“That’s funny coming from you considering I’m about to shove one of your friends so far up your ass that-” Danny’s threat was cut short by Sam grabbing his arm and running with him out the door before any of the guys could rear up and swing the first hit. Getting in a bar fight was not on his agenda for the night and if Danny got punched in the face there would be hell to pay at work.

“Hey you little shits get back here and try to say that again!” Danny heard the man yelling after them as they made it out the door, down the street, and around the corner before they slowed to a stop to catch their breaths.

“I’m so sorry those jackasses ruined our night” Danny tried to apologize with his hand over his quickly rising and falling chest.

Sam took one sideways look at Danny from his crouched stance against the concrete wall and burst out laughing. Danny raised an eyebrow in confusion but couldn’t help a giggle start to bubble out as well at the childness of it all.

“I just want to know which one of them you were about to ‘shove up his ass’” Sam wiped a rogue tear from the corner of his eye before standing up and walking over to Danny. “Besides, the night isn’t ruined. We can still go somewhere else”.

“You still want to?” Danny replied while quickly slipping back into the dreamlike state he’d been in previously watching Sam in front of him.

“The night is young. I’ll even let you pick this time” Sam was standing impossibly close to Danny now. He’d been impressed by the way Danny handled the whole ordeal. Up until he nearly started a brawl and had to be whisked away.

A curl had fallen loose from underneath Danny’s hat after having to run. Just like earlier today Sam reached over to move it out of his face, but instead of fixing his hat again he gently lifted it from Danny's head and held it beside their faces to briefly conceal him placing his lips on the others. “Your place or mine?” Sam smirked when he pulled back from the kiss all too soon for Danny’s liking.

“Whichever’s closer” Danny groaned while wrapping a hand around Sam’s waist and pulling his lower half firmly against his to steal one more kiss.

Decidedly Danny’s condo was actually closer than Sam’s apartment so they caught a taxi back towards the less scruffy part of downtown Dallas.

Sam fidgeted with the hem of his blazer as they rode the elevator up to the floor Danny’s condo was on in silence. It wasn’t awkward, both boys knew what they wanted but neither were going to expect anything from the other.

Once they arrived Danny set his key in a small plate on a console situated right next to the front door. “Drinks?” He offered and split from Sam, him going left into the kitchen and Sam right into the sunken living room.

“Whatever you have is fine” Sam called over as he removed his blazer and took a seat on the couch that nearly stretched the entire expanse of the area.

“You can get a fire started if you want. The fireplace is electric, you just flip the switch on the mantle” Danny mentioned as he gathered a few ingredients for the only cocktail he was confident he could make.

“You are from Michigan if you’re wanting a fire started in the middle of August” Sam chuckled but got up and moved to the mantle anyways. Danny kept his condo cold because he liked wearing sweaters and he’d much rather actually use his fireplace than the central heating.

Returning to Sam with two glasses in hand, he gave one to him and placed the other on the glass table at their feet.

“So I’d say let’s pick up where we left off, but I’m ashamed to say I honestly don’t remember what the last thing we were talking about was”. The only picking up he honestly wanted to do was Sam, over his shoulder and carried off into his bedroom, but it had been a while since Danny had actually been with anybody outside of his work and he didn’t recall how hard it was to initiate things without coming on too strong.

“You really want to just talk?” Sam eyed him up and down as he took a sip of his drink. Damn, did he make these strong on purpose?

“I mean, that’s okay with me” again, he didn’t want to assume what Sam was and wasn’t down for on a first date, if they could even call it a date. “Unless you had something else in mind?”

Sam braced himself for one more gulp of the very alcoholic drink and set it down onto the table next to the other. Once more he reached over and plucked the cowboy hat Danny was still wearing off his head, swapping it over to his as he boldly swung his leg over Danny’s lap and straddled him on the couch.

“I want you to fuck me like you do those girls on set” Sam’s voice came out like an angelic song dripping with passion.

With Sam’s hands massaging into his shoulders Danny quickly grabbed the other boy’s waist, feeling the texture of his shirt against his fingertips as he ran his hands up and down his sides. “No no angel, I’ll fuck you even better than those girls”. He latched his mouth onto a particularly tasty looking expanse of Sam’s neck causing him to whimper and grind his hips down.

“Yes baby, right there” Sam mocked the girl Danny had this afternoon making Danny pull back and look at him with a disappointed expression.

“You don’t think I’ll be better for you? Make you cry out my name for real?”

“I’ve seen all your moves” Sam started to rock his hips back and forth, mistakenly thinking he would be the one in control.

Danny buried his nose into Sam’s hair, nibbling on the shell of his ear before he spoke “yes, but have you felt me? Deep inside you until I’ve found that spot that will make you go crazy for me”. He felt Sam’s body shiver underneath his hands, grinning at the reaction only his words caused. “That’s what I thought. Now I’m going to go into my bedroom to get the lube. Do you want to follow me or wait here?”

“Take me to bed Daniel” Sam moaned, running his hands up the others neck and lacing his fingers through his hair.

Danny grabbed Sam and stood with him still in his arms, having him wrap his legs around his waist while they locked lips and he carried him back up the steps down the hallway and into his room.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had someone else in his bed, but after seeing Sam laid with his beautiful brown hair sprawled out above his head like a halo he knew he wouldn’t ever want anyone else.

In a quick fight of limbs against clothes Danny had them both undressed, his hat having long ago fallen off Sam’s head in his living room.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you” Danny asked as he pressed his lubed up fingers to Sam’s entrance, prepared to stretch him nice and easy until he was ready for him.

“No, I like it” Sam panted, a slight whimper leaving his parted lips when the first finger was pushed inside.

“Fucking Christ Sam. You already feel so good” he could feel Sam’s walls fluttering around him.

Danny wasn’t afraid that Sam wasn’t going to like what he was going to do, but that he’d get carried away and do too much too soon.

“Another Daniel” Sam rolled his hips onto Danny’s fingers as he placed the second next and pushed it inside as well, making sure he was getting all the way up to the last knuckle and curling up. Sam arched his back off the bed, reaching around to his front and grabbing onto his base with a tight grip trying to keep himself from finishing so soon.

“I think you’re already ready for another one. Do you want another?”

Sam lifted his head off the pillows to get a good look at Danny hovered below his waist. “You’re the professional, I trust you”.

Danny wanted to rip his fingers out and have him right then and there, but he knew better. He was the professional even if the image of Sam, cock in hand looking over the expanse of his body down at Danny with a pleading expression was enough to make him cum on his bedsheets if he moved himself too quickly trying to find a bit of his own relief.

He made his final preparation, adding a third finger until Sam was surly nice and relaxed then slowly pulled them all back out.

Sam groaned at the empty feeling, going ahead and getting a few good strokes in before Danny sat up, bringing one of Sam’s legs up with him and propping his ankle up on his shoulder.

Once he was lined up perfectly, he slid in inch by inch, watching as Sam’s face went from brows tightly knit, to softened as he adjusted to his size, and then totally blissed out when he started to move.

Sam ran his hands up Danny’s abdomen, trying desperately to grab onto anything since he knew touching himself was off the table until he was ready to end it. He saw Danny’s eyes shift from his down to where they were connected, watching himself disappear inside him over and over again. He had one hand on Sam’s propped up leg, and the other on his hip, holding Sam down onto the mattress as he snapped his hips with calculated precision.

“Do you want to cum first? I want to be inside you when you do” Danny looked back at Sam as he took the initiative to start stroking him instead, residual lube still clinging to his fingers.

Sam shook his head back and forth on the bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no or try to stop him because it felt so good and he did want to cum at the hands of Danny.

He just didn’t expect to be this undone, this helpless underneath the man he’d fantasized about for so many weeks now. With Danny hitting that spot deep inside him though, and a masterful flick of his wrist, Sam was teetering on the edge.

“Let go, I’m right behind you” Danny encouraged, picking up his pace with both his hips and his hand, sending Sam over the edge.

He had to keep himself from wanting to squeeze his eyes closed as he spilled out into Danny’s hand. Wanting more to see the look on Danny’s face when he finished almost immediately after.

The muscles in Sam’s leg were twitching from strain as Danny lowered it back down, slipping out in the same motion with a groan and a sigh.

“Do me a favor?” Danny kindly asked as he collapsed onto Sam, not even caring about the mess that was made between them.

“Hmm?” Sam hummed in content response as he mindlessly played with the tips of Danny’s hair that now tickled his chest.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone at work I finished so quickly. I’ll lose my reputation”.

Sam giggled and Danny loved the way it sounded with his ear pressed against Sam’s chest. Sam didn’t have any intention of sharing this perfect moment with anyone, and in his mind Danny had only proved his reputation tonight.

“Only if you promise to ask me out again tomorrow”.

[tomboy014]

I’m mostly going off of fanon when it comes to Constantine, so bear with me, but after all the times Constantine has complained to the JLA for dragging him into whatever problem they’ve managed to bumble into, Batman and Oracle have started looking for alternative occult and supernatural consultants, but it’s not like they can just look someone up in the phone book… right?

Except that’s exactly where Oracle finds Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. 

There aren’t many records Oracle’s able to pull up, and what she does find is a mixed bag.  He’s got a fairly decent record working as a consultant with the Chicago PD, but he’s also worked with known criminal organizations.  There’s a pending lawsuit with TV studio over some wrecked equipment, good reviews from his former landlady, and a mix of dissatisfied and very satisfied customers, but it seems like, for the most part, he gets results. 

Plus, his rates are reasonable and he’s willing to travel; might as well bring him in on a trial run.

Nothing big at first.  Break up a new cult, disprove a haunting, all much smaller and easier than what he usually deals with back in Chicago.  He’s even managed to not burn down a building or two while he’s been here.  And while his methods can be… unorthodox, he can hold his own in a fight using both magical and mundane methods.  He’s a good detective and can work a crime scene.  He’s a hell of a lot more personable than Constantine.  Most importantly, he’s willing to teach.  Giant dork that he is, he’s eager to explain the magical theory behind his methods.

After a few months, Batman asks if Dresden is willing to be brought on full time, so to speak, and work his first “big” case.

“Only if you can provide a babysitter.” 

…What?

The Carpenter’s are on their family trip, and he doesn’t really have anyone else who can watch his kid.  He can only help if they can get him a babysitter.

Not what any of the Bats were expecting, but Batman can call in a “favor.”

Cue Dresden rolling up to Wayne Manor with little Maggie and her trusty sidekick, Mouse, in tow.

Alfred gets Maggie and Mouse settled in, and once she’s out of the room, Dresden turns to Bruce Wayne and casually asks if he gets to see the Batcave.

Dresden is aware he’s not always the brightest crayon in the toolshed, but he’s still a damn good detective, and he knows people.  It didn’t take him long to puzzle out that Bruce and the kids are vigilantes.  Bruce isn’t happy, but it does make things easier going forward.

Other than Tim, the Birds take to Dresden quickly.  He’s good with kids, never talking down to them, and is full of dorky movie and book references.  He can sling almost as much sass and sarcasm around as Steph.  Maggie is tiny and adorable and looks like a mini-Cass they can all coo over.  And Damian cannot get enough of Mouse who is just so large and fluffy and so much dog!  Tim doesn’t want Dresden to come anywhere near him; he shorts out every tablet and has to stay at least 20ft from the Bat Computer to keep it from shorting out.

So, Dresden finally works with the Justice League on some big, world-ending doomsday case, and yeah, this is unfortunately the speed he’s used to working at.  And, of course, a building burns down, but it was mostly not his fault!  But, everyone comes out more or less in one piece, the day is saved, and a bruised and beaten Dresden drags himself back to Wayne manor to recover before heading back to Chicago.

Just a normal day for Harry Dresden, professional wizard and supernatural consultant for the Justice League of America.

Still a much better deal than he’s used to getting.  The pay is good, and he doesn’t have to constantly watch his back against his own teammates.  Perk of working with superheroes; they’re generally good guys. 

But the biggest perks have been the positive effects on his daughter, Maggie.  It’s no Chez Carpenter, but the Manor and all the bat kids have a strong and warm family vibe of their own.  They’re (worryingly) good at helping talk her down from panic attacks and PTSD episodes.  They’ve got a lot of parenting advice to give, too.

And Maggie can finally get the therapy she needs from Black Canary without Dresden worrying about her being thrown into a loony bin for talking about the literal monsters she’ been exposed to.  Harry, too.

This is the best Harry and Maggie have been doing in a long time.

John Constantine, on the other hand, is getting worried.  The JLA have gone a suspiciously long time without getting themselves into trouble, and despite the way he acts, he does care in his own way, so he goes to check on them.  And who does he find they’ve invited into their house?  Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, apprentice of Justin DuMorne, son of Margaret LeFay, fiancé to Lara Raith of the White Court of Vampires, and the right-hand goon of the Dark Faerie Queen herself, Mab.  For Dresden, he can’t believe John Constantine, renegade warlock, necromance and black magic practitioner, just walked in.  He’s been on the Warden’s list for years. 

Both parties are trying to make their case about why they shouldn’t be using the other; they’re evil!  But the more Dresden and Constantine yell and argue with each other, the more they realize that they’re both working outside boundaries, but generally in the direction of good.  The two end up in positions that require them to work together, and it goes surprisingly well.  Their knowledge and experiences complement each other’s, and they make a well-oiled, if reluctant, duo.