#ANYWAY yet again I have NO idea what proper anatomy is and I did not use a reference for Merlin and only glanced at one for Gwen so

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

POV you’ve informed the Queen and the Court’s Sorcerer of something and they very clearly know something that they’re not letting on

[of-birds-and-men]

Kass gave Link a warm smile, the early morning sun dipping him in honey and making his smile glow even more. “Well, this is quite out of the blue. Not even a ‘hello?’ Much less a ‘please?’”

Link’s lips snapped into a flustered frown. “I’m sorry,” he frantically signed. “Please, could you teach me?”

After throwing his head back to bellow a laugh, Kass chuckled, “I am only messing with you, my friend. Do not worry.” He patted the spot next to him on the landing where he sat, signaling Link to sit by him. “I’m curious about what song you want to play. Which is it?”

Accepting the invitation to sit next to Kass, Link kept his head down as he shuffled over. His eyes flicked around and his cheeks started to redden the slightest bit. Why the answer embarrassed him so much, he wasn’t so sure, but it was hard to get his reply out.

“Ah,” Kass said with his smile still prominent on his beak as he set his accordion down next to him. “Do you mean to learn the other Champions’ songs as well?”

Link breathed in through his teeth and shrugged. “Maybe. But I want to learn Revali’s right now if I can...”

Kass looked down at him with raised eyebrows, as if gently urging him to elaborate. 

With that, Link rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. “Well...I don’t know. I had some memories come to me, but they’re foggy and I can barely understand them. But, something is telling me today is Revali’s…” His hand dropped and his brow furrowed in thought. He knew the sign for the Hylian term but didn’t know it for the Rito if there even was one for it. Opting to fingerspell, Link spelled it out with his fingers as Kass read it closely.

When he was finished, Kass’s beak hung open a little in interest. “Oh, so today is Champion Revali’s Hatchday? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I…”

“...I think so.”

“You mean to play his song in his memory today?”

Link’s cheeks burned brighter. “Is that stupid?”

“Oh, no. Not in the slightest,” Kass assured, waving his hand. “In fact, I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“...Thanks. I don’t know what else I would do anyway. If there was something, I don’t remember it,” Link said, his hands moving slowly. His mind drifted; not that there was anywhere for it to go after his century-long sleep practically wiped it clean. 

He brought himself back to where he was with a sigh. “I don’t know. I would do something or leave him a gift, but I remember next to nothing about him. I don’t remember what he liked or even what he hated. Nothing...”

It was true. There were only a couple of clear memories of Revali that Link remembered now. Only a few moments where Link could see his face and hear his voice clearly. And then there were even more blurry, foggy images of him that were slowly trickling in and left Link with more questions than answers. Leaving him feeling like there was so much more that he was missing. Almost like he was missing an important part of himself; of what his life had been before Calamity Ganon struck.

Really, it was the same thing with everyone; with Zelda, Mipha, Urbosa, and Daruk. Brief memories, some clear and some so hazy they were beyond recognition.

But with Revali, it was somehow different. It hurt more. It was severely more painful. It made both his heart and head ache. And he had no idea why it was the case for Revali out of all of them. Why the one who seemed to like him the least, or even hated him, made Link feel this longing...No, this need...to remember and know him like he used to. However it had been.

Still, even though his mind was riddled by all sorts of questions he couldn’t answer after forgetting everything but his own name…

Something within him couldn’t quite let itself completely forget.

“But I know that I have to do something for him and this is all I can think of,” Link finished, taking his time with every hand motion as he stared down at the lake below them; the surface of the water was almost black with the light of the morning sun not having reached it yet.

Noticing the gloom that was beginning to dawn on Link again, Kass leaned over and spoke up in a chipper voice. “It is more than a generous gift. Do not sell yourself short. I’m sure that if he is still there to listen, he will be grateful.” 

Link forced a small smile to give to Kass. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

Kass let the corners of his beak curl all the way up to try and settle whatever troubles he thought Link had. “I must say though, I did not take you for the musical type,” he began. “What does a man like you play?”

Letting out a short hum, Link fumbled around in the small bag on his belt to show the instrument in question. Once he fished it out, he held it out for Kass to see.

It was an ocarina he had come across in his travels. His curiosity had driven him to buy it with the extra rupees he had on hand when he saw it amongst Beedle’s wares. Though, it wasn’t until he actually held it and felt the cool ceramic touch on his skin and the shape in his hands, did he realize it was not so much curiosity as it was familiarity. Or something close to it.

And again, it was proven to Link that while his head was clear of what made him himself in the past, there were many things that his body seemed to remember. Muscle memory helped him ride horses like a pro straight away, and instinct along with that allowed him to fight the way he had before without needing to relearn much of anything. It was the same sort of thing for the ocarina; as soon as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips, his fingers knew exactly where to go to play notes he didn’t remember and songs he couldn’t recall. It all came to him naturally as if playing it was once something that was ingrained in him. And he found himself occasionally fiddling with it until now. Too busy to really sit down and learn anything new, but playing what his lips and fingers remembered when he had a moment to himself.

If Link couldn’t leave Revali a proper gift on his Hatchday, then at least he could play his song, one of the last things the world had left to remember him by. Whether it was for Revali himself, if he was still there, or if it was in his memory on his day.

Or, even if it was just for Link; a way to remember Revali with what little he had left.

Hopefully, it would be enough. But it definitely didn’t feel like it, even if it was all he could really do.

“An ocarina certainly does suit you,” Kass said, looking at the instrument in Link’s hands before peering at him and pointing at it. “Ah, may I?”

Link nodded, allowing Kass to take the ocarina in his hands and examine it himself.

“Can you play it, too?” Link asked.

Tittering, Kass replied, “Well, Rito aren’t exactly equipped to play wind instruments, considering our anatomy.” He tapped his beak. “Though, I think once I found a way around it to make it work with this blasted thing on my face. Would you mind if I tried?”

Link’s lips tightly creased together to keep him from smirking as he shook his head and motioned toward the ocarina. He watched as Kass brought it to his beak, which clacked against the ceramic as he tried to find the best position.

Kass’ feathers ruffled; clearly, he was flustered, but he tried his best to get past it by laughing it off. “Well, this is certainly humbling. This proves that no matter how esteemed of a bard I may be, I simply cannot master everything...What with my pesky beak and less than graceful fingers.” He rubbed the mouthpiece of the ocarina on his scarf before handing it back to Link.

With how much spit he saw flying from Kass when he was trying the ocarina, Link decided to rub it again on his clothes for good measure. 

Kass let out another embarrassed chuckle and twisted around to grab his accordion. “I might not be able to give you direction, but I can teach you the notes.”

Link nodded. “That works,” he said, his last words before readying his hands to focus on his ocarina rather than on speaking.

Smiling while he slid his hands through his instrument’s straps, Kass said, “Well, let’s begin then.”

~

Link opened his mouth to say something, finding himself gaping at Vah Medoh, but clamped it shut again. He attached the ocarina to his belt for a moment to speak with his hands.

Whether he was really alone or if there was still someone there to see him, he was not sure at all. After the defeat of Ganon, he was never sure what happened to Revali or the others.

Even so...he had the feeling he wasn’t quite alone.

But maybe that was just him being hopeful. Hopeful that he wasn’t just making a fool of himself. Grasping at straws for nothing.

“Hi.” Instantly, he cringed at himself and hissed through his teeth. Now he really felt stupid. Nonetheless, he made himself go on. “I’m not sure if you’re even here right now or if I’m talking to myself. But, either way-“ Link took a second to swallow and fix his eyes back down to the ground beneath him. “I wish I could say I remember you. There are only little things I remember, but something is telling me there’s so much more to you...to us...that I’m still missing.”

Link licked his lips. He hoped that he was, in fact, alone, so Revali wouldn’t be seeing him rambling on to himself.

“But I know that we were close somehow. I feel that, once, you were the most important thing to me, but that’s all I know. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip that was still wet from when he licked them. “That’s why when I remembered it was your birthday-“ Link froze, then corrected, “Sorry, hatchday...I knew I had to do something for you, because, in a way, you still matter to me now as much as you did before. But you’re still a mystery to me; I know nothing about you further than you being a Champion and being the pride of your people.” He laughed a little to himself. “And that you didn’t like me at all. At first, at least. I’m not sure.”

Finally, he racked up the courage to look back up at Vah Medoh. “I do know your song though, which I’m sure you’d like to know is played by bards to keep your memory alive. I’m not one of those at all, but I can just barely remember how to play this thing and Kass taught me how to play your song. One of the things of yours that’s still here- Even if these are all the memories I can ever have of you, at least I can have this. And your bow, too.”

Nervously, he started to chuckle to himself. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I never should’ve said anything. Anyway, the point is...I know it’s a crummy present and I don’t know if you’re even still here to listen, but I learned how to play your song for you.”

Done with his monologue, Link anxiously took the ocarina off of his belt. For a moment, he stared at it and focused on the cool touch of it in his hand before slowly bringing it up to his mouth. He took in a deep breath while his fingers went to their places and he played what he learned for Revali.

Dormant, Vah Medoh said nothing in reply, leaving Revali alone to revel in both Link’s appearance and song. That was fine. He honestly hadn’t expected her to reply anyway.

Even when he couldn’t even remember him, Link was still annoyingly sentimental. It brought bittersweet comfort that, even with everything that had happened, it was still the same Link before him. His Link.

He had the same golden hair he used to run his fingers through. The same lustrous, sapphire eyes he used to stare into. The same quiet laugh that warmed Revali’s heart. The same strength that Revali both envied and once fell in love with. The same kindness. The same courage. The same everything. Every little thing Revali loved and even hated about him was still there, down below, playing a song for someone he didn’t even know anymore.

Still, it hurt knowing Link didn’t know him. Seeing no recollection on his face when Link first came to Vah Medoh...Seeing Link looking at him as if he was a stranger…

Well, it nearly broke his heart. To be eventually forgotten by his people was worse enough, but then to have the one he loved come back to him only to forget him, too…

Revali sniffed, resting his hand under his chin to watch Link far down below. 

Link was right. This was a crummy present. His finger clumsily fumbled around and he kept blowing into the ocarina’s mouthpiece too hard or too soft. Even from here, he could see his spit flying. Funny how, even over a hundred years later, he never did get better with that thing.

He really was still his Link. Just how he remembered him. Just how he loved him. How he would, unfortunately, always love him. Even if it meant being unrequited for the rest of time.

~~~

GASPS OUT OF BREATH,,,,,, WOW OKAY,, umm LOL here is le @revalinkexchange gift for @mars-janka ??? I. hm. certainly took some liberties and for some reason with my srs lack of expertise ..I was like “HEY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS INFINITELY HARDER ON MYSELF!!! WRITE AND ALSO DRAW A BILLION PICTURES WHICH IS SOMETHING I BARELY KNOW HOW 2 DO.” 

//sobs// i was so drained of my life juices by the end that the quality DROPPED and im genuinely so sorry pls forgive me wwwwwwwwwwww- i even redrew the last link panels to try and make it better if u can believe it LOL i also was considering making a prose only version of this to make up for it but i honestly don’t know how to translate some bits to that...SO- ah

anyway...yaaaaaaaahhh happy valentine’s day!! hope u still like it despite my clear depletion of life juices dskjghkjag

also teehee ty @udog​ for helping me w vah medoh u smell

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Don’t Forget Me

Art in banner done by me.

College Life / Mermaid / Kimi no Na wa (Your Name) inspired AU

It’s all nothing but a dream. A series of dreams that are all too real. That’s all it is. Your soul - or whatever it was - couldn’t possibly be swapping places with a Merman. One, mermaids aren’t real. Two, that’s not even possible! Is it? 

Mermaid!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Human Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Don’t Forget Me tag. 

Genre: Romance / Angst Story 

Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Interspecies Sex (merman / human), Masturbation, Alcohol, Animal death / hunting (whales, fish, sharks, etc), Cursing, Descriptions of Injuries and Blood 

A/N: This is my part for the @bnhabookclub weekly collab event Just Add Water for MerMay! I know there isn’t much going on in this, but it’s just the first chapter to a new multichapter fic. Per the rules of the collab, I used the prompt “That’s just an urban legend”. I’m excited, because I’ve wanted to do a Mer!Bakugou x reader for a LONG time and could never think of anything. But when this theme was announced, I was watching Kimi no Na wa and immediately had this idea. So, full disclosure, the theme of switching bodies in their sleep / forgetting each other is inspired by that movie, but that is all that I take away from it. 

Prologue: Stone

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing

Words:  1,855

You were doing it again. 

How many times had you caught yourself staring at the delicate necklace in your hands? More than you could probably count on all your fingers and toes, and you were sure that number had nearly doubled just in the last week. You really weren’t sure why you were drawn to it so intensely, nor why it gave you such a deep sense of loss and loneliness. 

Where had you gotten it from? 

You couldn’t remember. In truth, you couldn’t remember getting it at all. As far as you could recollect, it had been around your neck when you woke up one morning, about two months ago. Since then, you refused to go a day without it, even if it didn’t necessarily match your outfit or any particular occasion. You felt so lost without it around your neck, like a part of you was away, off in some distant land or deep within the sea. 

Why did you think that? 

Of all things, why would you assume that this missing part of you was in the ocean? Was it because of the necklace? Probably. The silver clam shaped pendant that rested in your palm was most likely the culprit to make you think of the sea. But that particular piece of the jewelry wasn’t what kept you so entranced. Set in the middle was a small, perfectly round stone, and its brilliance is what you couldn’t help but stare into. To anyone else, it would just appear to be a small marble, with brilliant deep indigo, swirling turquoise and hints of radiant purples. There were sparkles of twinkling white, like light reflecting off a water's surface, and if you gazed into it long enough, you could have sworn that the colors were mixing and twisting, as if there truly was water inside the stone. 

It was so beautiful. Had someone given it to you? Whoever did must have cared about you so deeply to give you something so special. You had asked all your friends and family if they knew anything about how you got it, but no one knew anything. You received some weird looks and uncomfortable responses when you tried to ask them, but that didn’t bother you much, not when you had been dealing with people finding you strange for almost half a year now, anyway. 

Why did they find you weird again? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that it had to do with this necklace. You had tried to find out what it was made of to try and get any hints on where it may have come from, but each jewelry store or stone expert you took it to, they all had the same response. They just didn’t know. Many offered to buy it from you at varying prices, their interest peaked and their hopes of being the first person to discover a new stone pushing them forward. But you resisted, as just even letting it out of your hands so they could look at it enough to make you nearly burst into tears. You couldn’t let it go and you wouldn’t, either. Not ever. Not for anything. 

Because it was precious. It was the only thing that you had that could help to calm this nearly unending sense of longing. 

But what was it you were longing for? 

Or who? 

Why did that always pop up in your mind? There were so many pieces of scattered thoughts that you just couldn’t put together. A person. The sea. Feeling like a piece of you was missing. You wanted these feelings to end, but you knew that they wouldn’t, not until you found what you were searching for. 

With a frustrated sigh, you put the necklace back on around your neck, clasping it in place with skilled fingers. Standing from your bed, you shuffled your way towards your desk, lightly running your fingers down along the slender metal chain. Your mind was still in a hazy grip of sleep, barely registering that the electronic clock mostly hidden by books and other stationary read 5:49 AM, though that didn’t really matter. Your mind was racing with the overbearing thoughts, and as you sat down in your squeaky office chair, you were already near breaking out into tears.

The necklace wasn’t the only clue you had. Scattered among the desk were notebooks and papers, though you had refused to touch them for the last few weeks. At first, you had meticulously looked over every page and every written note, trying to do everything you could to learn about who this person was that you were missing. But now they sat on your desk, abandoned in defeat. There were many things in the notes that didn’t make sense to you now, though according to what you had written, you had understood it all at one point. 

What you had written. 

That was what was the most odd. There were two very distinct handwritings within the notebooks and scribbled on the scrap pieces of paper or sticky notes. Yours was so proper and easy to read, clean and steady. The other was rough with some of the characters almost completely illegible, requiring you to assume what the person writing must have been trying to say. Large and scratchy, it almost resembled the handwriting of a child or what you assume would be someone new to writing on paper. The phrases. The choice of words. All of it was completely different from yours. 

It had been another person. Someone sat in your chair, in your room, and wrote these messages to you. At first, you thought that it just had to be a prank. One of your friends was fucking with you. That was the only realistic solution. But none of them talked this way, and if you were honest, they weren’t exactly clever enough to pull off such a big ordeal over months and months. 

The way they talked… It was so strange. You just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and if you were honest, you thought that they must have been a little crazy. Yet, you weren’t all that rattled in most of your responses, like you knew what they had been saying to be the truth. 

The conversations were so… natural. In fact, most of it was like a diary, with the scratchy handwriting cataloging what had happened that day, how they felt about it, and what they had done. 

This school shit that you humans do is so stupid and pointless. Who the fuck needs to know about… what is it called? Calculus? You’re never going to use that shit, I’m not bothering with keeping up with it, fuck that. You always catch up on your own anyway. That bitch Midoriya or whatever gave you some fucking flowers today. I thought about stomping on them and telling him to fuck off, but I just took them and left. You need to tell that prick you’re not into him or this shit will never stop. Also, the way you humans handle courtship is fucked. I didn’t do shit today otherwise. Just stayed in the room. I did find your sketchbook though. You’re getting better, but you still can’t remember us for shit. 

Pulling your eyes up from the paper, they immediately landed on the mentioned sketchbook, which was tucked up beneath some schoolbooks. Carefully, you pulled it out, setting it down on the pile of papers to thumb through it. 

It had been so long since you had even opened this thing. The feeling of the coarse paper beneath your fingertips brought a small smile to your face, as did seeing all your old sketches and doodles. Though, the smile faded as you reached near the middle of the sketchbook, your eyes tearing up immediately at the contents of the page. The page was completely covered in drawings of what looked to be mermaids, or mermen, to be more accurate. They were mostly faceless and unidentifiable, the sketches geared more towards poses and anatomy. The only thing mostly consistent was the tail. It seemed to be the same over all the drawings, with matching fins and scribbled patterns. 

“Mermaids… I’ve never cared to draw them before, why did I…?” 

After another turn of the page, you were met with similar things, only this time they had heads and hair, jewelry, pieces of clothing, and even weapons. Only one of the sketches resembled the previous drawings, and his particular features called to you. The feeling of recognition and longing grew fiercer with another turn of the page, which was all nothing but sketches of that particular merman’s head with varying expressions and positions. He was particularly attractive, with slanted piercing eyes and a mass of fluffy spiked hair on his head. He had fin-like ears that were mostly drooped, but flared out on the drawings with a more intense expression, where his mouth was open in a yell or intense fanged snarl. 

A small gasp left your lips as a drop of liquid suddenly landed onto the paper, pulling you out of your daze. Crying? Why were you crying? Why did your heart feel like it was about to be ripped from your chest? It wasn’t possible for this to be the man that you had been longing for. You had drawn him as a mermaid! They weren’t real, and there was no way that was possible. He couldn’t even get into your room, let alone sit in your chair and write you letters. 

“I’m so ridiculous…” You whispered quietly to yourself, wiping the tears from your flushed cheeks. Had you been blushing? You didn’t even notice. “Mermaids… That’s just an urban legend. A myth. I must have just been in a phase… Maybe I saw a movie or an anime with them, and I got super invested? But then… they’re so…” 

Page after page, more sketches followed, some making you giggle while others made your chest ache so badly you thought you would pass out. But then, there was something scribbled onto a page that made your entire body grow cold, stomach twisting into such a tight knot you were sure that you’d vomit. 

Save me. 

“Save… Save you?” You choked out into the silent room with a trembling voice, more tears cascading down your cheeks as you reached up to grip the pendant around your neck tightly. It was in the familiar scratchy handwriting, though it was more frantic and messy than you had ever seen. Hiccupping, you brought the pendant up to your lips, pressing the stone against them as you struggled to calm yourself. 

Save you from what? What the hell happened? Did I save you? Why the hell can’t I remember!

It was then that you felt an odd pulsing against your lips, and as you pulled away in shock, your teary gaze was locked onto the pendant in your hands, which was pulsing slowly with a pale green glow. And with it came a thought, like a soft voice whispering in your ear that you couldn’t ignore. 

He’s calling to me… 

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 75: Paper Weight

Table of Contents. Third Instar, Chapter  6. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Religion, joint issues, diet/appetite weirdness, brief transphobia adjacent anxiety, minor dehumanizing ghoul treatment. Uh. Not in that order. A slightly longer groundwork chapter, and continuing evidence that I am, in fact, criminally insane. [Updated 2021.07.12.]

“...[F]ixed in a sort of eternity at the heart of the crystal.” -- Orwell’s 1984

______________________________

‘Choly woke to Sticks gently stroking at his long dark shock-streaked hair. He could not discern the time of day without any light sneaking in around the edges of curtains, and recalled their inn room did not have windows. The ghoul drew his attention back to him with a drowsy smile.

“Ready to start the day?”

To resist the draw to curl up into Sticks, ‘Choly stretched out with a yawn, only to jerk his eyes open. He laid on his back for some time. In the night, one of his shoulders had separated and dragged his neck out of alignment.

“--I’m not ready, but let’s start anyway. Angel, be a dear and turn the lights on, please.“

The Mister Handy puffed to life again. Reignition of its pilot light cast dim outlines to the space. Unveiling the Burlington glass fixtures returned the room to unnatural illumination by that strange red-green light which ‘Choly disliked intuiting as gold. By the time Angel had completed the task, Sticks had thrown himself out of bed to dress.

‘Choly managed to sit up, and palpated at his errant joints, using the mindful pressure of his fingertips to coax things back into place. Not dislocating his fingers in the process required what little focus he could summon without coffee or his reinforced gloves, but he could barely move let alone think straight with the strumming stitches radiating through his arm and neck. He squirmed inside, knowing he couldn’t help but force Sticks to bear witness to the strangled hisses and cartilaginous pops.

Angel presented ‘Choly a can, which he accepted half-awake. He put on his glasses one-handed.

“A canister of fresh water to start your day, Sir? I’ve only got the one at present, if you’d like to split it. More is on the way.”

“Would you be able to open it...?”

“I have no sharp implements,” it apologized.

“Give me that.”

Sticks snatched it playfully and held it between his knees while he reattached his Pip-Boy and left hand. He hadn’t quite got to buttoning his shirt just yet. He slipped the glove off his mechanical prosthetic, and produced a sort of multitool from the armature of the region analogous to the metacarpal bones. As the ghoul made use of the folding implement, ‘Choly watched the hand’s exposed mechanical parts in motion, intimating tendons and ligaments, not always attached to something resembling a bone. A dull pop liberated the can’s lid. Sticks took a few swigs and handed it to ‘Choly helpfully, before hiding the tool again and slipping the glove back on. He moved on to finishing with his shirt so he could tie his bow-tie blind, humor to his breath.

‘Choly simply sat there and observed Sticks at length, nearly altogether forgetting gratitude or thirst. Words failed him. Sticks ran his right hand over his one surviving curl of hair. The blond ghoul noticed him staring and sat up straighter.

“What?”

“A pocket knife? That’s allowed?” He kept turning his neck, head held at deliberate angles, seeking that last tweak of alignment his cervical vertebrae wouldn’t yield him.

“See’s never asks me to show my hand,” he shrugged. “Half the time, they don’t even notice it’s not flesh.”

“This isn’t about your hand, and you know it.”

“Hey now. They’re fine with utensils. It’s got to be scarier than a butter knife to make them skittish. Really, though. Don’t mention it. It’d probably risk ‘em taking my whole hand, especially now that it’s wired into this thing.”

Sticks huffed a bit. Angel leapt to assist when his neckwear wouldn’t cooperate.

“Oh, do let me help you with that, Sir.”

“Thanks, chap. Hard to do without a mirror.”

“I brought in a hand mirror.” Unappeased, ‘Choly gestured to Angel for his hairbrush, which he set to using with his head dipped between his knees, desperate to couple the inversion of gravity with cadence of his brushing. Once he sat up again, he looked to Sticks. “Which, would it be all right if we brought in some things from the car? I figure that even if we get lucky today, we’ve paid for a week, so we may as well stay for a week. No sense in rushing things. Might miss something, if we do.”

Sticks tilted his head.

“I could warm to that. What all would you even need to bring in, though?”

“Little things,” he reassured a little too quickly. “Toiletries. Some spare clothes. Nothing too elaborate.”

“I don’t see why not.” He gripped his own knees. “Let’s knock that out. After, we can head to breakfast. Now. You want my help with your corset and stuff?”

‘Choly’s shoulders folded in as he worked at unbuttoning his shirt. His reservations came not from distrust but self-consciousness. Despite having partook in several kinds of sex acts with him already, he still preferred that the ghoul only see him naked from behind, if at all. But, he didn’t care to parse any selfishness or perversion in the offer: he wanted Sticks’s help. He’d be a hypocrite, anyway, to find fault in Sticks’s own enjoyment of the activity, when his very physiology provided the same passive delight for ‘Choly. He pulled the corset to him, and removed his shirt so he could hook the busks. Only then, holding it up against his front, did he relent to receiving help stringing the back. The more pieces Sticks helped him into, the more straightened out and held in place he felt. More clearly than usual, he craved the full-body orthotics set, in the expectation that with them he might feel normal again. Functional again. In any sense. In every.

He objected, mostly internally, that his brain would thrust heavy self-reflection on him so soon after waking. The idea of returning to bed enticed him again. No. Sooner than do so in the bathroom mirror, he pinned up a french twist blind and loose.

The two finished off the water before leaving the room.

They first stopped at the restrooms, where Angel waited just outside. ‘Choly flinched at the doorway, only to scold himself for even thinking he shouldn’t use the men’s room. He remained aware of others the entire time, relieved to go unnoticed and unremarkable. He insisted to himself that the night before had been a fluke.

Exiting the mall made ‘Choly wish he’d brought his visor inside. The garage’s luminosity wasn’t significantly greater than inside the mall, but the shift in hues to natural lighting pulsated in his right-sided cervical migraine. He didn’t think he’d gotten used to the limited color spectrum indoors so soon, yet here he was, nearly thinking seeing any color besides red, green, and gold signified he was seeing colors which didn’t exist. The intensity with which he saw cyan, magenta, and even white, he approximated to an aura migraine. The edges of his vision felt over-illuminated and blurry. If this sensitivity overload would take place every time he adjusted to and from Burlington glass lighting, he decided he would avoid going inside and out with any frequency for the remainder of their stay.

In the garage, mostly only the children paid any attention to the trio. So early in the morning, many inhabitants shared cinder block campfires to prepare community breakfast. On the way to Little Boy Blue, they passed through delectable aromas of sweet breads and pan seared meat.

Sticks opened the trunk for ‘Choly. Once he could tell ‘Choly intended to make use of Angel’s storage compartment to carry his things inside, he tossed in few of his own clothes too. He smirked at yet another of ‘Choly’s outdated behaviors:

“You packed like you’re on vacation.”

“A vacation with a purpose, perhaps. I’m grateful for it, though. It doesn’t seem this hotel has complimentary soaps.”

Sticks snickered.

“To broach a veritable elephant,” Angel stressed, “I must point out that while we may be booked for a week’s lodging here, you only have four Melancholia remaining, Mister Carey. In addition to our primary goal, we should stay on the lookout for toothpaste and mouthwash today. And we may no longer require them for first aid, but do recall that Stimpaks are the most important part of that recipe.”

Stimpaks. 'Choly paled at his oversight.

“Surely four of those things will get you through the week,” Sticks muttered. “You can’t swear off food now, with the biggest restaurant cluster in New England at the other end of the building.”

“...If I can help it.”

Sticks puffed up.

“Not if I can help it.”

The Mister Handy and chemist turned down the invitation to argument.

On their way back inside, ‘Choly saw Maury eating with a group of other settlers. He didn’t want to interrupt their meal, but he still waved. When See’s screened them, ‘Choly showed them Angel’s compartment again. Everything passed muster with security, albeit thoroughly rifled through. ‘Choly welcomed their return to the clear, dark uniformity of the mall interior’s red-green glow. They dropped off their things at the room, then went into the mall proper.

The Concourse seemed to only just be waking up by this hour. Most walked southward like them. Only half the stores looked open for business. ‘Choly looked to his Pip-Boy for the time. Just after nine. He accepted it and slouched as comfortably as he could atop Angel.

He figured most of the people headed to the food court were Laners, while the rest were probably visitors, or at least lived outside the mall. Along the way, he people-watched, eventually making a visual distinction between Laners and everyone else less by their routine and more through their attire. The fashion of mall denizens seemed to posit some commixture of Irish crochet, beaded silk, and embroidered tweed, bakelite and astrakhan, plus-fours and long trailing skirt hems, chemisettes and dickeys tethered with layers of scarves and shawls.

More people packed into the boisterous food court for breakfast than had for dinner. Even getting to the counter with the shortest line took patience, with hundreds seeking their first meals. Sticks ordered himself carrot pancakes, then turned to ‘Choly.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in breakfast? With the lines like this, I’m not ordering twice.”

Fatigued lyric traced his reply as he patted at Angel’s storage compartment to retrieve his Billerica Golf Course mug with a smile:

“You can interest me in a cup of coffee.”

The ghoul impatiently resigned to a smaller order than he’d liked, and flashed his inn room key fob to net a discount. He requested a plate from Angel, and took it and ‘Choly’s mug to hold out for the server, who confirmed, yes maple syrup, black no sugar, before plating up as requested. Twenty-seven pulls lighter, Sticks let Angel locate their seat with its higher passive senses.

‘Choly sat with his coffee warming his gloved hands for some time, content to let the aromatic steam roll over his face while he watched Sticks dig in with knife and fork. Angel set a Melancholia bottle on the table. Eventually, Sticks’s bites slowed, and he stopped to finish chewing. He cut off a forkful and held it out with a cupped hand beneath, optimistic the craving spurred ‘Choly’s attention.

“The maple syrup makes up for it being carrot.”

‘Choly eyed it. Sooner than admit due impropriety, he let him stuff the bite in his mouth. He had expected the syrup and apple compote to provide all the sweetness, but the finely grated root vegetable mixed into the batter contributed both sweet and savory. Against his better judgment, to quash any question altogether, he mooched a second bite as well with interest.

“Don’t you like carrot?”

“...Blueberries aren’t in season,” Sticks eventually smiled. “Now, I’d happily split these with you... or are you actually happy with that damn silt flour smoothie?”

“I’m only happy with my Melancholia, in that it doesn’t upset my stomach.” He opened it with his reinforced gloves, and thought to himself, This batch isn’t even cherry. It’s mint. “If you want my full faculties, you’ll have me with Mentats, Melancholia, and a cup of black coffee.”

Brow raised, Sticks frowned into his plate as he scrutinized where to cut off his next bite.

“Far be it for me to come between you and your faculties.”

Angel used the dish station at the far end of the food court to rinse their plate, mug, and utensils. Then, they got to skimming stores.

Beginning just outside the Customs House, they poked around any open store which appeared to carry armor or apparel. ‘Choly went by cane for the most part, and tried not to let interesting garments distract him or his cash from his goal. He wasn’t about to spend anything until he knew the price tag on liberating the leather orthotics from whoever might have them. Neither their descriptions nor the product photos in the catalogue produced results.

In one shop, Sticks unhelpfully described the item to the clerk, who immediately pointed them to an array of girdles and brassieres. Beet red and speechless, ‘Choly had to nearly shove away the salesmanship, no matter the young man’s encouragement or respect. Sticks didn’t know whether to find ‘Choly’s reaction revealing or amusing.

They passed crossway between the main entrance and Sutter Grove, only for ‘Choly to stop cold. Like some strange airport reunion, a loud, excited group of Laners fawned over a black woman with a shoulder-length white bob--white all the more stark in contrast to the red-green golden mall-sea. When Sticks noticed ‘Choly had stopped, he backtracked, eyes on the woman sooner than him.

“You need me to help you up on Angel?”

“Such accolades. What do you suppose she means to them?”

“From the look of her, she must travel a lot. They probably just haven’t seen her in a real long time. It’s not important. They’re going to Burlington Glassworks. They won’t have what we’re here for. Now come on.”

Head askew, ‘Choly watched the gaggle drag the overwhelmed yet pleasant woman across the Concourse and to the lighting store.

“I... I want to go in there.”

“Didn’t think you were particularly religious, but whatever. We can take a break and play tourist or somethin’.”

‘Choly almost objected, but figured he’d understand if only he satisfied his curiosity. If he recalled anything from the time before he’d stepped foot in the United States, he knew with certainty he’d been raised to abhor religious observance. At least, outwardly...

Myriad strange shapes the luminescent space, but the motif repeated in the glass art filled with glowing golden red-green fluid, that the neck swirled and looped around the body, then somehow reentered it. Bulbs were hung by these loops from the ceiling, some in knotted strings, while most other bulbs rested in metal fixtures reminiscent of egg cups. If not for the artistic shapes and the hue of light they cast, ‘Choly and Sticks almost considered it like stepping into the lighting department of a hardware store.

“Hierosacristan Fresnel!” The group begged, both in English and what ‘Choly could only presume was French. “Hierosacristan, tell us of your orbit!”

The staff had abandoned their posts in fascination of their visitor. Some showered her with sunflowers. Here, ‘Choly could see the woman wore an ornately embroidered shawl, fur-lined metal armor, and an all-black bodysuit. The woman could only oblige her admirers with a humility strained smile. A dozen or so stone park benches furnished the deeper half of the store, in two neat rows facing the back wall. ‘Choly sat at the last bench to watch, transfixed. Begrudgingly, Sticks joined him, and Angel, behind them.

As she spoke, Fresnel’s deep, silvery voice alternated between English and French, limiting ‘Choly and Sticks’s full comprehension. Her audience seemed more captivated by anything she didn’t say in English.

When she told them, “Qu’Atom vous garde,” they mirrored it in kind. ‘Choly filled in any gaps in the language barrier with presumptions of what little he knew of Orthodoxy.

“Much of my year I have studied in Thomaston... XXXXXXXXXX I wandered the Nashua ruins a bit before coming to the Lane proper... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX I come to greet the granite... I must travel West before I return to Five Sisters. To report my findings to Grand Mother Skwodovska. But, I savor a leisurely return. My discoveries dictate my orbit. XXXXXXXXXX I Winter at the Lane for the first time... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX ”

At some point in her speech, she took notice of their visitors. She broke away from sermonizing for the dozen or so practically clutching for her attention, to approach. ‘Choly straightened, expecting her to scold him. But she bowed to Sticks with grace, and held his hand in both her own. The ghoul fell speechless when she smiled up at him.

“What a blessing, that one of Atom’s beloved attends us. I never get the chance to speak with any Undying.”

Sticks let her hold his gloved hand, too, and laid on his charm.

“I’m impressed at our timing. We happen to be at Ant Lane right when such a highly esteemed Child of Atom has popped in.”

Again struggling with humility, she withdrew to stand. Taken aback by the sight of Angel, she hemmed into her fist.

“Forgive my start from the robot. One of my past orbits took me to the Commonwealth, and since my visit to the Cambridge Polymer Labs, I haven’t much liked the company of Mister Handies.”

“Cambridge!” Angel blandished. “Such worldliness.”

She appreciated that it did not take exception with her.

“My brothers and sisters show our devotion in a commitment to travel.”

“Forgive my stupidity,” ‘Choly asked, voice cracking, “but what exactly is a hiero...?”

The intense, robust woman half-sat on the back of the next bench to form her reply. Up close, ‘Choly could make out her face tattoo, of many concentric rings, emanating outward from one eye. Sooner than wonder what it signified, he could only imagine how much it must have hurt. The white bob was a wig.

“You speak Keb? No?” She became more particular in her words. “Among the Children of Atom is an order of scribes, historians, cartographers. We are the Daughters of Radon. We hail from the Rock of Ages. We document and research Atom’s holiest substances, such that any of Atom’s children can safely trace a path and greet everything She has touched. The rank bestowed of Daughters of Radon is Sacristan, keeper of holy spaces. Hierosacristans are the Daughters’ Zealots.”

‘Choly strained to follow along, teetering between looking lost and unintentionally judgmental.

“What interest, then, in granite? I heard correctly, that you intend to greet it? It’s very pretty, but really, I want to understand what has you all so enchanted. Is there correlation between granite and these glass lights?”

Fresnel smiled broad and beaming, nearly sarcastic in a way.

“A visitor from the Commonwealth. I see. The answer is Atom’s touch. We concern ourselves not just with nuclear bodies, but with large sources of granite, marble, and limestone. Anyone could observe these structures, both man-made and still-buried, but it takes the devotion of Daughters to listen to their histories.” A sigh and slouch announced her travel weariness. She pointed above them, to the hanging glass. “Everything is a vessel. We carry our world-soul. Nuclear bodies carry the Holy Light of Atom. And certain stones can carry recorded memories of the worlds which formed this one through Division. The Daughters are committed to documenting these memories, so that the Children can celebrate everything from the past which went into the creation of the present.”

‘Choly fumbled as carefully as he could. It fascinated him, that it seemed more and more that religious devotion tied directly into the creation and maintenance of the increasingly supernatural glowing glass fixtures--let alone that it had anything to do with radioactive material.

No wonder they appreciate Sticks. “And you... listen to the granite here?”

Sticks poorly hid his annoyance with a shift in posture and a grunt.

“Most granite is quite loud. The granite here... whispers.” Fresnel admitted. “The Children often call this place The Quiet Granite. You’re very new, and so eager to learn of Atom’s Kingdom... Are you here to let in Her Holy Light?”

“Until I stepped foot in here, I had no idea this place was a church. I know it sounds stupid, but I wanted to come in to see the lights up close. I’m fascinated that a substance could sustain luminescence without external excitation.”

Though his admission dulled her enthusiasm, his verbiage still held her interest.

“I’m not directly involved in glassblowing, so I know very little of it. The Glow is most remarkable, n’est-ce pas? Even if you’re here merely to marvel at our blessed work, you can still take a piece with you. You should speak with my brothers and sisters here. If you’re more than a scholar or tourist, the local Confessor can direct you to our body of scripture as well. I’m far better suited to geography than sermons.” Fresnel’s attention warmed back to Sticks. “Be no stranger to our space...”

“Sticks.”

“Be no stranger, Sticks.” She smiled, mirthful. “You and your odd friend here are welcome here.”

Before the game of Twenty Questions could continue, Fresnel stood to pat Sticks’s hand... and the top of ‘Choly’s head. The chemist frowned as she excused herself.

“Fresnel spoke directly with you,” a devotee said, behind them. They looked over their shoulders at the nervous man. “Is there anything I can do for you, Undying?”

“It’s Sticks,” he repeated, quickly growing tired of it. “We’re sightseeing, you could call it. I think this fella wants a souvenir.”

The man looked ‘Choly over and nodded, motioning for them to follow him to the counter. He produced an egg-crate tray of walnut sized glass baubles, and picked them up to swirl them around in visual demonstration.

“We’re blessed to meet a Hierosacristan.” He poorly contained his delight. “I wonder if she would permit that I be in her caravan when her orbit carries her onward.”

“Where is she headed next?” ‘Choly asked, moreso making conversation than wishing to know.

“The standard path for all caravans from Ant Lane to Burlington is Route 89, straight through the mountains. But, she mentioned traveling West. The Daughters of Radon follow the orbit of their heart. She may intend another orbit yet uncharted. --Forgive my gushing. You’re interested in a prayer armillary?”

“How much are they?”

The potentially inappropriate question caught in ‘Choly’s throat.

“Fifty-one pulls.”

“You don’t happen to take cash, do you?”

“Certainly. Our caravans do trade with more than just Ant Lane.” The Child picked up the tray’s edge to look at a note on the side. “One hundred fifty dollars.”

So deep in, he didn’t feel like he could say no thank you and just walk away. Not that he wanted to walk away empty handed after such a bizarre interaction.

“Tell me more about them. What makes them glow?”

“There are two aspects to Burlington’s glass artistry. We’re beholden to conceal our craft, but it’s perfectly safe for all Atom’s Children, blessed with the Endurance to withstand Her Light or no.“

In the remark, ‘Choly stifled a shiver at the possibility that the entire mall might be a religious settlement.

“The craftsmanship is remarkable.” His voice cracked. “How long do they last?”

“Years, if they must. But these smallest vessels are intended ephemeral: We encourage that you use them to seal a prayer, then shatter it someplace consequential to disperse the good will into the universe.”

“Are they... still safe if broken?”

“They are not grenades. And to drink its contents would be ill advised, foremost on account of the broken glass.”

“I would never have considered the fluid potable,” ‘Choly lied, having had the thought gifted him. He shakily produced the requested cash, and the Child let him pick one of the egg-like baubles. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you?” His beseeching, bleary eyes suggested more than simple commerce. “Do you require any arrangements? Any accommodations of any kind?”

Sticks eyed the tray with near disappointment, and rocked a bauble around in its cup with one finger.

“...You said they were fifty-one?”

“Take one, gladly!”

Feigning pleasantry, he picked one for himself. It exasperated ‘Choly that Sticks had not attempted to influence the price tag on his trinket, but only his frigid shoulders said as much.

“Thank you. Get to take a piece of this place with me, then.”

“But of course!” The Child nod-bowed to them both. “Qu’Atom vous garde.”

They mirrored the nod, caught in the uncertainty of pronunciation, and the uncertainty of appropriateness that they repeat it back.

‘Choly held his prayer armillary at his chest as they exited the Glassworks. He had no intention of ever break it. The thought crossed him as he glanced down at it, that he could place it in Angel’s storage for use as a perpetual light source, like the light to a glove compartment.

“...Angel,” he asked it, spellbound by the strange, vaguely oily, fluoresceinesque fluid, “you’ve got French programming, haven’t you? That was French, yes? What was she saying?”

“I believe it’s French, Sir. At least, partly. If I’m to understand Miss Fresnel, these Children of Atom worship gamma radiation... as well as something they regard as ‘foreign.’ ”

“Cultists, basically.” Sticks snorted.

'Choly didn’t care whether the Children’s religious motivations made any rational, scientific sense. It still burned him, that they’d given Sticks his trinket for free. The ghoul handed him his with only a vague smirk.

“I, you didn’t want one, then?” He had only starry-eyed gratitude. “Are you sure?”

“Why would I? I let them give it to me so they’d knock it off and let us leave.” The ghoul blurted out an abrupt chuckle and slung an arm around ‘Choly’s shoulders, to grip him a little too forcefully. He kept his voice down, cracked lips inches from ‘Choly’s ear. “Don’t make me go back in there. I get enough of that from you.”

-------------------

A/N: I anglicized the maiden name of Polish-French Marie Skłodowska-Curie, in the expectation that oral tradition would follow phonetically. (I also wanted to differentiate the Grand Mother from both Mother Curie III and FO4′s Curie, while still nodding to the historical figure.)

A/N: I’ve thus far gone all my life not knowing it’s pronounced Freh-nel or Fray-nel. Even my science teachers all pronounced it Fresnel. Hm.

Go to Next »»»

[traumendesmadchen]

Chronotopia September Update: The missing third

I’m afraid our current progress on Chronotopia: Second Skin are not exactly exciting to share this month.

Thanks to the new build I generated in August, I was able to give it to a small group of testers (mainly Patrons) and I’m only now receiving their extensive feedback. Unsurprisingly, there are many typos and bugs for me to fix so I’m diligently browsing through them, rectifying each issue one at a time. The only thing of note is that I had way underestimated the average length of a playthrough when I wrote the build’s specifications: it’s already about 30h…which was my estimation for the whole game. I’ll mention the proper playtime from now on!

Other than that, I’m still in the process of porting Chronotopia to the latest version of Ren'Py. As I've said in the previous Kickstarter update: this is going to take a while.

Given how boring development is turning out to be, I thought now would actually be the perfect opportunity to bring up Wounded by Words again.

I don’t know if you remember but, years ago, I stated my wish to publish the short games Träumendes Mädchen had made as a hobbyist team on Steam before Chronotopia’s release. People seemed pretty receptive of the idea and we proceeded. Since then, both Ambre and Garden of Oblivion have been available there for free…but the third visual novel was still missing. My original goal was to release one former hobbyist project per year yet Chronotopia’s development took so long that, after a while, I just wanted to give it priority and focus all my attention on it. As a result, I had to put Wounded by Words aside.

BEFORE / AFTER

But now that Chronotopia: Second Skin has hit an important milestone and things are going to be calm development-wise for a little while anyway, I might as well try to release Wounded by Words on Steam before the end of the year. At least, you’ll have something to help ease the wait!

Fittingly, the Steam Edition of Wounded by Words might be the most interesting one to talk about. We did a complete overhaul of the assets for Ambre’s whereas, for Garden of Oblivion’s, we mostly made adjustments here and there. This time around, there will be a complete presentation overhaul again…but with no new assets involved. Basically, we will be making the most of what we already have to offer a new experience.

It actually makes a lot of sense considering the game jam origins of the project. Back then, I had purposefully restricted myself so that coding would be as quick as possible so there’s a fair amount of hidden potential I could tap into. Take the sprites, for example. With a few minor anatomy adjustments and the addition of some texture, the heroine already looks much better than she previously did. I only need to re-export the layers and I have a bigger resolution with more expression combinations already. Honestly, I think a remake of this specific game will be interesting to see.

And, who knows, maybe new players can enjoy the story in the future~

[solangelover]

AUctober: Day 2 - Pirates

Mermaid/Pirate AU

For @solangeloweek AUctober and to continue my AU!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | --

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

A/N: You all loved this fic so much (and tbh I read it back and impressed myself lol), so I’ve been wanting to continue for a while! I had like half of this in MerMay, so I finally finished lol. I have a rough chaptered plan buuuut we’ll see!

Will could practically feel the nervous energy of his fellow shipmates right outside the infirmary door. They all tried looking casual, but he saw many people try to peek in through the tiny door window to get a glimpse of what was going on inside.

After all, no one ever thought they’d meet a mermaid.

Well, merman was the proper term (merboy?), but still. Merpeople existed. They’d seen a lot of crazy things out at sea, but they never actively sought out mythical creatures—those things usually came to them anyway. So, no one was surprised, per say, but everyone was definitely curious.

“Grover, Will,” Captain Percy began as he entered the room. “Talk to me.”

Will was finishing his preliminary check of the merboy—Nico, Will reminded himself—though his limited knowledge of merpeople anatomy and physiology was not enough to fully assess Nico’s condition. Grover had come to help at the captain’s request. He had a way with all kinds of creatures, animal or mythical, though usually the non-humanoid kind. He had not done much so far besides smile, but Nico seemed to be more at ease with significantly less people crowding around him.

“Captain,” Will began, still looking at his clipboard as he finished writing notes down. “I’ve just completed assessing Nico’s condition. I don’t know much about his kind, but Nico agreed to receiving more assistance and that he could help fill in knowledge gaps.”

“Oh!” Percy was pleasantly surprised at the merboy’s cooperation. He looked past Will toward the boy on the cot, no longer cooped up in a cage. He smiled at him, earning him a scowl in return.

Nothing fazed the fearless captain, however, as he addressed the merboy. “That’s great news! I hope our doctor here can heal most of your wounds. He’s pretty good at it.” Percy smirked as he cast his eyes toward his best friend. “I also hope Grover did something helpful. He’s probably the nicest person aboard this ship.”

Grover sputtered at the compliment, spitting out, “I didn’t do anything! I mean—I just—I’m just, here to help.” He rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed as he smiled bashfully at Nico.

Nico nodded at the human. He did seem kind, in a different way from the golden-haired boy that was helping him. The first boy had darker-colored eyes, though not as dark as Nico’s own. But the second boy, the “doctor,” apparently, had bright eyes—the color of the ocean as light filtered in from above. They seemed to sparkle in the same way, too. That actually comforted Nico the most. Before, he would have lashed out and quickly made his escape back into the sea, just as he’d imagined doing on the other ship. But here, the boy with ocean-blue eyes made him feel… not safe, not yet, but safer than he’s felt in a while.

And, now that Nico was looking at the captain of this new ship, he noticed that his eyes were similar. If the doctor, Will, had eyes blue like the deeper parts of the ocean, the captain’s eyes were the color of shallower areas, with green hues mixed in with the blue. Again, it made him feel safe in a way that the cruel, pale blue eyes of his captor had not.

Still, Nico didn’t plan on staying for long. He believed these humans had good intentions, at least as far as healing him went. But beyond that… Nico wouldn’t stick around to find out what they planned to do with him.

Will was going on to say some things about Nico’s condition that Nico himself didn’t fully understand. While he had always been curious about the human language and hung around ships to understand some things, his vocabulary was limited.

“… Anyway, I think I should keep him here for a few days to be sure he heals up okay.” Nico’s head whipped up to stare at the back of Will’s head. A few days was… more than he had anticipated.

Percy nodded, glancing up when he saw Nico move. The bandages on Will’s arm were noticeable, especially considering that Will himself didn’t get hurt very often. Percy was wary of leaving him alone with the merboy. Though the scumbag they rescued him from was vile and cowardly, he might have had the creature locked up for a reason. But after his initial strike, Nico hadn’t moved to hurt anyone outside of scowling and glaring viciously. Plus, he trusted Will’s judgement.

Percy took a step toward the cot, not venturing too close but showing that he wasn’t afraid of the kid. “Nico, right?” The merboy nodded once. “Nico, I’m truly sorry that you were captured and hurt on that other ship, but on my ship, we’re all friendly. I’m sure you don’t trust us yet, and that’s totally fine and understandable. But please know that we will do whatever we can to help you out. After Will gives the ‘okay’ on your health, we’ll take you where you need to go. Got me?” Percy had no idea if Nico was fluent in their language or not, but he hoped his message got across properly.

Nico sat there for a moment, both surprised and suspicious at the man’s words. He stared into those sea-green eyes, coming to the conclusion that, at least for now, his words were genuine. Nico nodded once more, then cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he sounded out carefully, hoping that was the proper usage.

Percy smiled immediately, big and bright. “Okay!” He turned and clapped Grover and Will on the shoulder. “Will, I’m trusting you to fix up our friend, alright?”

“Aye, captain.”

“Grover, I could use your help relaying our situation to the rest of the crew. Tell Kayla and Austin to come in and give Will a hand as needed.”

“Aye Aye, captain.”

“And Nico,” Percy glanced back over his shoulder before heading out, locking eyes with the merboy once more. “Please be nice to the good doctor. He’s the best we’ve got.” And with that, the two friends stepped out and shut the door behind them.

Will swallowed nervously, glancing at Nico, who was still staring at the closed door. Though Grover had not done much, his presence did ease Will’s nerves and allowed him to focus on assessing Nico’s condition. Now that they were alone, however, Will really had time to process the fact that he was here, with a mermaid, acting as his healer. He just shook his head. What a life I have, is all he could think.

He cleared his throat, effectively gaining Nico’s attention as he whipped back towards him, dark eyes boring into Will’s own. “Um, so, your condition is… not great,” he began oh so eloquently. Nico nodded seriously anyway. “You appear to be malnourished, physically injured though not critically, and sleep-deprived. Um,” he glanced nervously at the merboy’s tail. “I also think you’re probably dehydrated if merpeople need more water than humans to survive. The overall condition of your tail doesn’t seem good, though obviously I don’t exactly have a frame of reference for that.”

Will waited as Nico processed his words. His understanding of English was pretty amazing since it obviously was not his native language, but he probably didn’t get to practice it much.

Nico spoke up, voice a bit rough due to disuse and dehydration. “I understand,” he said. “You are correct. My tail should be… lighter? Less… dark.” His face twisted in confusion, and maybe a bit of frustration, at his limited vocabulary.

The doctor hummed as he tried to understand what Nico meant. “Do you mean shiny? Like,” he tapped his chin in thought. “Kind of how the ocean looks when sunlight hits it?”

“Yes!” Nico exclaimed. He wasn’t quite smiling yet, but his eyes lit up at learning a new word. “Shiny,” he said experimentally, tasting the word on his tongue. Will did his best to tamp down his own grin at how pleased Nico looked in this moment.

“Okay,” Will said, making a note on his clipboard. “So, with all of that, I think it’s best if you stay with us for at least three days. There’s a lot of healing that needs to be done for me to feel comfortable sending you home. Octavian really did a number on you.” He frowned down at his notes, upset at how awfully his cousin treated this poor merboy. It was almost amazing that he could become even more disgraceful in Will’s eyes than he already was.

Nico took note of the way Will looked angry when discussing his treatment on the other ship. He did not think the anger was directed at him since Will had been nothing but helpful the entire time he had been here. But he couldn’t quite grasp why Will seemed so upset on Nico’s behalf. They didn’t even know each other—they weren’t even of the same species! Yet, somehow, the way that both the captain and doctor of this ship seemed to care for Nico’s wellbeing brought him a bit of comfort. Not that he trusted them—yet—but he knew genuine actions when he saw them.

Even with all of that, though…

“Three days?” Will’s head snapped up at Nico’s voice, like he had been lost in thought previously. “Is that needed? I can heal on my own.”

The blonde took in the stubborn pout that graced his patient’s face. On the other crew members, Will would have been annoyed. But with Nico… well, he couldn’t help but think it was kind of cute. “Three days is the minimum.” Cute or no, Will always drew the line at someone’s health. “Really, I’d rather keep you for longer, just in terms of your wellbeing. However,” his eyes softened, “I also want to be able to get you home as soon as possible. I’m not sure how long you’ve been away, but I’m sure you must at least miss being in the water.”

Nico glanced away from the kind eyes of the healer. He had not been home in some time, not just due to his capture. But that wasn’t for this human to know.

The merboy didn’t know what to say, but luckily, Will continued on. “So, if it’s okay with you, I would like to keep watch over you for three days to monitor your health so that you can make a full recovery. Is this acceptable?” He desperately hoped that Nico could trust him enough for that to happen. Honestly, the fact that Nico hadn’t put up much of a fight aside from the very beginning shocked Will completely. Perhaps Nico had had good experiences with humans prior to Octavian. That would explain his knowledge of the English language.

Will was also bursting with questions about Nico’s species, which he hoped to get answered over the course of the three days. Because how could he not?

After what felt like an hour of silence, Nico finally seemed to find what he was looking for in Will’s eyes. He nodded, more to himself than the doctor, and said, “Okay, I agree. One condition.” Nico pointed to the door without taking his eyes off Will. “Keep this door locked.”

“What?” Will cocked his head to the side in confusion. That’s probably the opposite of what he would have expected the merboy to want.

“Locked,” he said again, like Will didn’t understand. “I do not think you will harm me. But I do not know the other humans.”

Ah, that makes sense and is actually pretty smart thinking, Will thought as he nodded in understanding. “Understood. I’ll clear that with Percy and make sure it is always locked. I can leave a key in here as well, if that makes you more comfortable. I don’t want you to feel,” caged, he nearly said, “held against your will.”

This earned Will a tiny smile and a nod, which he counted as a major win for the day. “Okay then. That’s settled, so let’s continue on…”

 A/N: I’m going to cut this here. Next chapter will be the next day, or day one of the three days. (Who knows when that’ll be up—)

[rosenmarille]

First of all: that One Day bit is quality content. Second of all I read "3.5 for Holly" and am Highly Interested

HI yes! i will explain, however i first have to correct myself. its actually a part 2.5, not 3.5. like i mentioned in the other post, the part is called “heart unbound”, this is about 25 years after battle tendency, when holly is in her early 20s!!

the rest of this im gonna put under the cut

so the setting. joseph (43), suzie, and holly (21) live in new york, smokey is in georgia, lisa lisa (75) is Somewhere in the states, erina and speedwagon have passed away (sad). its 1963! the speedwagon foundation has continued expanding, with joseph and lisa lisa closely involved after speedwagons death. they’ve mostly moved their attention into new territory, but still have all their old research kept. stands aren't a thing yeeet, but its been long enough that the pillarmen have faded into unpleasant memory.

until one night the power at the swf hq goes out for just a moment too long, and santana manages to escape.

joseph and lisa lisa are contacted asap, and they decide to travel down to texas and find him (preferably take him out for good this time). holly, who has grown up hearing about jojo’s wild escapades, really wants to come along. she knows some hamon! she can defend herself! come on!! (yes i said it, holly learned hamon, do you think having lisa lisa for a grandmother would result in anything less?) anyway, joseph and lisa lisa Really don't want her to come since it could be really dangerous and they'd rather not put her in harm’s way.

so holly (rich, unsupervised) books a plane and goes after them.

we skip to texas!! joseph and lisa lisa investigate at hq and the surrounding area and find practically no trace of santana or where he might have gone. when holly arrives, she decides that since she can't look into hq without getting caught, she’ll ask around with locals, and manages to hear rumours about a new sort of cryptid (only appears at night, weird anatomy etc), both cattle and people have been disappearing, but on a very small scale. she looks into similar stories and realizes that santana must be moving south, though what he's planning, she doesn't know. but she will follow!! (and leave breadcrumbs for her family to pick up on this pattern too, she guesses. not so helpless now, huh?)

so this goes for a while, taking her down into mexico, until she is pretty sure that she can triangulate the missing people reports accurately enough to actually Find him. holly isnt stupid, she doesnt think she can win in a battle against a pillarman. what she’s hoping to do is prove herself to joseph and lisa lisa by prepping and helping out enough for them to then take care of the problem. she's an adult now and she doesnt appreciate being treated like a child. (you may say this contradicts how she behaved towards joseph in part 3, but to that i counter: she's in her 40s in that one, and her being an adult is established enough that she knows she can act a lil silli without that being put in question)

but hey!! she does find him!! she decides to stalk him for a bit, see what he does. so she happens to be there when santana attacks a young woman (midnight snack), who pulls a KNIFE instead of running away, so Holly rushes in and deflects an attack with a quick hamon swipe. santana has learned from his previous hamon encounter and instead of sticking around, he decides it isn't worth it and absconds instead (smart). (at this point you might notice this is the first fight of the part. yeah it be like that in this one. call it battle untendency) 

holly and the woman (who later introduces herself as Maria (no last name yet; but named after Maria Maria by Santana (lol)) also get out of dodge and hide out in an alley, where maria decides that she needs to know what the fuck that Thing was, yesterday. magic?? sparkling?? hello??? and hollys like uhh hah yes so. that's an ancient semi immortal vampire creature? and this is sunlight breathing magic, which he's allergic to. yea. and maria is like ................yeah okay i buy it. teach me sunlight breathing magic, i wanna come.

maria side paragraph! she's our oc and we love her. remember that awful scene from the santana arc with all those prisoners and the one kid who doesn't get sacrificed? that's her older brother. he was “let go” but “let go” basically did just mean “free to wander the desert and find civilisation maybe”, so when he did eventually find his way back home, he'd been severely traumatized, plus on death's door. other prisoners had been turned into vampires to test on the pillarman discovery, so the word “vampire” is something he'd have heard and conveyed to his family, who didn’t. really believe him. he also hasn't really recovered from that experience :( then the war happened and maria's dad served in it, and afterwards decided that his other child needed to know how to defend herself, and maria learned how to handle a knife, as well as how to physically fight. their family managed to avoid post war financial problems for the most part, and maria was able to finish her studies! she's a pilot :)  she is, however, harbouring very deep anger and resentment for what happened to her brother, and has not really had a face to direct that anger towards, so it's been on a relatively low burner for the most part, but now there’s talk of vampires and a person she can blame for her family’s trauma.

they exchange notes and she realizes that yeahh, that is pretty much exactly what her brother had told them, so it was true. hah :) yes actually, i would like to learn vampire killing magic please holly. and holly, who didn't really want to bring someone with her, but kind of does believe in accidents not being a thing, decides that yeah, she probably should bring maria along. and sure!! if they have to deal with sanata again, why not teach her hamon!! they share stories and continue to follow the trail while they train together, and become really close friends! jobro time.

we've now reached the first third of the story.

we travel further south!! soon, holly begins to realize......... ohh..... the temple they found santana in.. that's south of here, isn't it? oh huh. what could he want there?? the masks have been destroyed as far as she knows?? she doesn't know enough first hand to know what significance there could be, but the girls prepare for anything. maybe a big weapon the researchers had not been able to identify?? MOre pillarmen, secretly living underneath the temple??? 

(there are gonna be some scenes that involve lisa lisa and joseph figuring out where they need to go, and maybe also realizing who set that trail, maybe they have smth else going on, who knows) 

holly and maria follow santana and eventually do find the temple, and prepare to stake it out, hopefully hopefully not alerting him to their presence, because that would be.........bad. (tho tbh marias kinda itching to try out vampire begone magic. wouldn't You want to if you suddenly learned how?) neither of them have ever been here so they're honestly pretty floored by the temple interior, the tunnel that leads into the main chamber dark and uninviting, with who knows what hidden dangers are lurking about. 

and then they see him. santana is investigating the place where the pillar had been cut out of the structure, the stone masks crushed and broken, strewn around the floor, running his hands over the broken stone. Then he walks to one of the murals carved into the wall, a large one, similar to the one speedwagon had been investigating, with the 4 faces representing the pillarmen, and he lingers there. dips his head, then walks back to the empty space of the pillar and sits down where it was, crosslegged, and closes his eyes. and then he stays still. what does That mean?? 

the girls decide this is enough, they should fall back and formulate a proper plan, maybe wait for joseph and lisa lisa to catch up. buuuut we can't have that be the end of it, and so something happens, maybe one of them trips? steps on rubble that falls loose? they make a noise. and get noticed. 

change of plans! fight now! except there isn't an attack? they stay still but “i know you're there.” damn it. battle formation, stances ready, they make their way into the chamber, where santana hasn't moved at all. he's still sitting there, but he's looking at them now. holly asks what he's doing here, he asks the same back. she says not to play dumb, hes been killing people this whole time, he has to answer for that! and to that, santana honestly looks a bit confused because. has he? in his defense, he's not human, his prey is humans. pillarboy has to eat.

marias like “well? aren't you going to attack us?” and he's like “not unless you bother me.” and closes his eyes again. the girls aren't sure what to make of this.

santana side paragraph: first of all, this is a santana stan account. name one (1) thing he's done wrong, canonically. woke up in a strange place. captured?? got his bearings, tried to Leave and was accosted! shot some nazis (go king), and finally only snapped when joseph got mad he didn't laugh at his clownery. anyone would get murderous as a result. tried to escape further, ultimately was stopped and detained Again! morally, he's above joseph. 

so they're just standing now. since their earlier encounter where holly used hamon, santana refuses to talk more at first, but holly has the bright idea to get his trust by having maria restrain her and then stand back with her weapon -- a show of putting herself in a helpless position and promise she wont attack. that’s enough for santana to agree to come closer and have a proper conversation.

holly asks again why he's here exactly? what's here? and he tells her that if she Must know, he's waiting. waiting for what, she asks. and maria looks back at the carvings and realizes “oh. there should be 4 of them.” now santana looks mildly uncomfortable, and holly rememebers that “oh fuck, dad killed all of them.” and then “wait they were evil tho??” and then again “wait fuuck, didn't the leader guy say they left this one behind in mexico on purpose? oh man does he Know?” holly finds herself in the position of “not only do i have to tell this guy his friends aren't coming because they're Dead, they also kinda abandoned him.” yikes.

meanwhile maria is kinda pissed that her one chance at revenge might have just been taken from her. she still blames santana for what happened to her brother, and she refuses to let that go. she’s too stubborn and proud for that. and now, especally since holly seems to be focused on creating a bond, it feels like a slap in the face. so she kinda… snaps, ruining their chance at resolving this peacefully and causing santana to run off again. she and holly have a fight. it sucks.

soon after that joseph does find holly and he Does send her home. maria, after explaining her intentions, stays with them. holly is heartbroken :( after shes gone, joseph and lisa lisa make a plan to trap santana, aimed to go off in a few days prep, and during this, maria is starting to realize that that... really isnt the right thing to do... shes now had some time to sit alone with her guilt and regret about how she handled the situation, ssso she gets an idea on how to make up for it...

meanwhile holly is sitting at home and is sad, until suzie drives her somewhere in guise of going to a fancy lunch with smokey (whos in town), but really she drives her to the joestars airpad where her friend marua(!!) is already waiting in front of joseph’s plane, which, turns out, she hijacked in the south and flew all the way up here, and suzie tosses holly a bag with clothes and stuff and tells her to hurry up and get going :3

and hollys all "but what about lunch with mr smokey? :o" and suzie winks at her and says "don't worry, he's waiting for me to tell him everything went well at the restaurant ;)" and then holly gives her a big hug, runs to her friend and hugs Her, and they are off to fly back south to save some lives. on the way, maria apologizes and explains -- how she had harboured this resentment for so long that the sudden target for her blame put in front of her, plus the immediate removal of it were so jarring that she acted impulsively... she knows santana isnt at fault for what happened with her brother... and now she just hopes they make it in time.

as luck would have it, they catch up with joseph and lisa lisa just in time to jump between them and santana (maria accidentally cuts off joseph’s prosthetic hand in the process and freaks the fuck out before realizing it’s fine) and try to talk it out. it’s a tense few minutes, but holly is determined and stubborn, and she manages to get her dad and grandma to see her side of things and santana is saved! they find something for him to eat, giving him the energy to heal his wounds. pillarmen absorbing shit never gets old.

And from there it’s mostly just everything getting settled down and smoothed out. they get back in touch with the swf and tell them the problem is handled. santana turns out to be a relatively peaceful dude when his life isn’t being threatened, and he becomes a good friend with all four of them, but especially holly and maria. they help teach him about the modern world and he decides that he’s going to do some travelling and learn about the history of his culture and other ancient mesoamerican cultures he interacted with in his youth, and he shares the things he learns with the swf so they can get the info about where theyre needed etc.  maria gets hooked up with one of the many therapists we decided work at the swf that has experience with the supernatural things she and her brother have gone through. holly, maria, and santana stay in touch and go on regular trips together. holly receives many post cards.

it’s all really good and happy :) thats heart unbound baybee!! <33

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {7}

Summary: Dealing with the truth isn’t easy, especially when there’s a soulmate bond involved.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word count: 4000+

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist

A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are, Isak Danielson - Love me Wrong, Dove Cameron - Remember me, Tom Odell - Can’t pretend, The XX - Angels, Coldplay - Fix you, Coldplay - The scientist, Elvis Presley - Can’t help falling in love.

I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!

If you want to be tagged for future parts, reply down below.

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Ikari (noun) -  anger/strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility

Very few moments in our lives are time-stamped, just frozen in one particular second of an achingly long minute of a horribly long hour. That's when time stands still and we're left with a choice - to be the force that makes it move or be a victim of the one who does and Ethan wasn't sure what to choose.

Taking her quivering lips and trembling chin into account, those beautiful eyes of hers clouded with doubt and hurt but not hate...even then she couldn't hate him. Love and hate are the same train, only in forwards or reverse gear.  Her chest rose quickly with each breath, her exhales coming out as huffs instead of proper airflow and her hands laid at her side as defenseless as she must feel. She has blood in her eyes while blood drains from his face.

He doesn't feel like he deserves to be the one to end the silence. It's not as if he wouldn't be happy to be a father now or many times after as well, but it's the way it's come to be and it's the deceit that had forced this moment of reckoning.

"Nothing to say? Because I have plenty. To. Say." She spat the words out like they're poison collecting on the tip of her tongue, her eyes narrowing as tears begin to spill and Ethan really has no words to say because what the hell could he ever say that would make it better? And she’s fighting for the good memories of them to remain unaltered, to remember the reasons to be kind. She’s fighting to keep herself empathic even as every terrible thing she had predicted is coming true in this instant. For Y/N, that's the betrayal, Ethan’s lack of willingness to fight the negative thoughts and think the best of her, to recall her soul as it was when they first met instead of loving the soul that evolved by his side.

"You kept this from me for six months, Ethan! You watched me squirm whenever I asked about your soulmate and you said NOTHING!" Her hands bawl into fists and the veins in her neck become prominent and while he swallows thickly, Ethan prepares for the worst of it. She's just starting and she has every right to get it off her chest and onto him. He deserves it all.

"I've been haunted by a soulmate that doesn't exist! God, Ethan, do you even have any idea how fucking distraught I've been over that?! And then this!" Pointing at the positive test at his feet, Ethan can tell her hands are shaky but so is her entire body. Her emotions are completely in control, her rage at its peak, but he can't help the tiny bit of joy inside him at the fact that she's still there. She may be screaming at him, but she's there, not running away like she would have done months ago but staying long enough to at least argue.

"I've mourned our children, Ethan!" Her voice is raspy and devastatingly painful, his heart desperately flailing inside his chest as her grief overcomes her and he can't touch her, he can't make it go away. This time, he's the cause instead of being her cure.  In her pain she thought he’s the bad guy, yet in truth he’s drowning in a sea of uncried tears too.

"I've mourned the children I thought we couldn't have! I've let that go, given up on it entirely because I wanted you more than -", her voice breaks and a sob fills the pause that wrecks Ethan from inside out and his own tears fall uncontrollably and while he knew it would be better if he stays on the other side of the room, he had taken a step closer and she didn't take one back.

Swallowing a lump inside her throat, she shakes her head at him and speaks again, no longer screaming but her quiet tone is making it worse. It hit him hard. Her words are like nails and hammers breaking his heart apart.

"I would have given it all up for you. I didn’t give a fuck about the soulmate I might have, because you're all I can see. I would have given up having children of my own, for you. I would have forgiven you for lying to me all this time, Ethan, I would have. I was going to." Wiping her tears off, she rubbed her nose absentmindedly before her gaze fell on that test again, her own heart aching.

Did she want kids? Yes.

Did she want Ethan's kids? Definitely.

But like this? It wasn't quite the way she imagined it at all and not at a time where she's finishing her intern year. There were far too many things she wanted to do differently, to make it special. Who even gets pregnant by accident in this world anyway? She felt like a cosmic joke.

"I didn't even fucking care that you lied, I was just happy you were finally mine and then I remember the times you insisted on condoms and I though why not fuck with him a little?” Chuckling in disbelief, she actually smiled through the tears but it was far from happiness on her face.

“Just to relieve some the tension and I don't even know why I took the test, probably because of what Grayson asked today, but no matter how badly I wanted kids with you, this isn't the way or time I wanted it to happen." Moving to the bed, Y/N let herself sit on the edge, folding her hands in her lap as she lets out a long, heavy sigh. Her sigh was of a softly deflating, it was as if a tension had lifted yet left her with a melancholy instead of relief.

"I love you. I really fucking do. I just don't like you right now."

Moira - a person’s fate or destiny

Ethan couldn't stay away any longer after finally hearing her say those words and mean them, no shooter with a gun to her head, no nothing. In fact, she said it after he royally fucked up, that's got to mean something, right? Moving toward her as if gravity itself demands it of him, Ethan knows this might end badly for him, but it's a risk he has to take. For her, he has to.

Kneeling down, he got in her line of sight and while she rolled her eyes at him at first, she fixed her gaze on him after.

"I was scared you'd leave me. That you'd run and I'd never see you again. And I fucked up, I should have told you and I just...the longer it went on, the harder it was to...justify it all. But none of it was justified, because I never stopped being afraid." Daring to lay his palm on her thigh, Ethan nearly smiles when she doesn't tense up or move away, allowing him a mercy he didn't feel worthy of. Fear is an incredibly powerful influence, it is also a disguised demon. But Y/N? She’s always been too kind, too patient and he never really knew why up until now – she loves him just as much he loves her.

"I understand why you didn't tell me. I do. I just wish you had more faith in what we share...in me. You were everything and I don't know how to go back to that? Was I ever just a girl you love or was I always the soulmate you felt the obligation to love?" And that hurt him. That insecurity, the doubt, the unwillingness to believe she is without a doubt the only woman he would ever love, it broke him.

"With or without it, I'd have lived a thousand years if it meant you'd be waiting for me in the end. There is no one, past or present, I would put before you. I love you, with everything I am - heart and twenty one grams of soul." Sniffling, Ethan laid his other palm on her leg as well, holding onto her as if she's his sole anchor to the world.

"And I fucked up, big time, and I'd love nothing more than to make it up to you and it's not how I planned it either, but I think we have a chance to make something beautiful here. If you’ll have me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you", leaning toward his nightstand, Ethan opened the drawer and pulled out a tiny black box. Never in his life had he felt like he couldn't breathe, as if his lungs are burning for their dying breath, but when her eyes widen as he adjusts his position, making sure he's on one knee as he should be, Ethan forgot how to breathe.

"Marry me." Mustering the words with the last of his strength he watched her in hope, aware this is yet another thing he didn't want to do quite like this but it felt right. If she needed to know how much he loves her, he would go the extra mile.

Most soulmates don't get married because why would they when fate had sealed their fates together anyway. But he wanted to do that. He wanted to show her his love is stronger than anything and that she isn't just his soulmate, but the love of his life - his best friend and lover and his favorite person. Without her, he didn't see a future at all.

“You want me to”, she paused, trying to say the next words calmly instead of freaking out as openly as her heart is, “marry you?”

Seeing him nod had only fueled the last bit of anguish inside her, but then he smiles so nervously, revealing just how scared he truly is and she doesn’t want to make it worse because she doesn’t even know what she wants to do with everything that had been revealed. It’s always been impossible to truly resist him, feeling as if it might kill her, but this time she didn’t want to resist. Y/N didn’t want to fight anymore. What she needed is Ethan, even if he’s the last person she should care for right now.

Reaching for the box, she takes it from him gently. Taking a moment to look at the beautiful ring, she swallows thickly before closing the box altogether. His lips part open as a quiet gasp leaves him, his eyes forming more tears as she sets the box back on the bed and turns to him.

“I don’t think we need to make major decisions right now. If it’s alright with you, I’d rather just go to bed – no talking, just you and me.” And he can hear just how defeated, how drained she is and he can’t even imagine what it is for her and how heavily the baby must be affecting her, so he doesn’t challenge her. Swallowing every word he wants to say, biting back his tongue, Ethan just nods as he sits up, next to her.

Wrapping an arm around her, Ethan pulls her into his side, holding tightly as her arms circle around him and hold him closer. He doesn’t wait, moving them back onto the bed, not leaving her for a single second. It might as well be the last time she allows him to hold her so close, so intimately that he can feel her heart beating against his chest and he won’t waste the chance. He didn’t care about anything but her love - he’d have her love him wrong if she can’t love him right. Anything, but to be away from her - this night or any other. 

Instead of creating space, he kisses her forehead and while she tried her best not to, a fleeting smile appeared on her lips. Draping a leg over his, she hides her head just under his chin, resting it on his chest as his fingers thread through her hair at the back of her neck. And just like that, in their silence, Ethan and Y/N laid together until emotions settled and their eyes closed for the night – too in love to let each other go.

Metanoia (n.) - the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, way of life

When morning came, Y/N was surprised to find herself alone in bed. She figured Ethan must have been paged and while a pang of hurt, jealousy even, followed, she couldn’t be mad at him for that. After all, she understands it comes with the job and while she hoped he’d take the day off to figure things out and make a definite choice on what they will do moving forward, she sighed. He’s got her devotion, but she really hates him sometimes.

She doesn’t want to fight him, nor sleep alone ever again, but this isn’t just like any other fight – this is a big deal, possibly the biggest of them all. How can she forgive him? Is it fair to crave him like the very air she breathes at the same time as her heart is wide open, bleeding because of his actions? But then her hand lingers on her stomach and she almost smiles with the thought of a small part of him being with her now, even when he’s not really there.

Flinging an arm to the empty place beside her, she finds herself wishing his beautiful smile was there to make the day lighter. Even now, she wished for his arms around her, to hear him say he loves her most ardently.

Groaning, she shakes her head at her own stupid self. Perhaps now when she had experienced soulmate love, a part of her forgave her parents for the way they acted – not with her but each other. Her mother forgave his father for the worst of sins, something Y/N couldn’t fathom at the time, but she’s now in a similar situation and it’s exhausting being angry with him…especially when new life is growing inside her and it’s a part of the person she loves most in the world. And no matter how sudden and unexpected it all is, she would never be like her parents. Her child would never feel unwanted or abandoned, she swore it. Even if it’s probably just a clump of cells, she fell in love with the baby. Ethan fucked up, but this baby isn’t guilty of any sin. The baby is a gift, she decided. And she’ll make him suffer, but Ethan is a gift as well and eventually she’ll forgive him. She’ll be graceful, forgiving, become his warmth in the cold of his long, lonely life. People think that forgiveness is weakness, but it's absolutely not; it takes a very strong person to forgive and if anything, Y/N had become a strong individual with so much love to give and she’d give it to him…and their baby.

Yawning, she stretched before sitting up, a little woozy but in need of food. She had barely had anything to eat yesterday and her growling stomach wasn’t shy about reminding her of that fact. However, as she put his shirt on, she found herself missing him dearly. Resting her cheek on her own shoulder just to feel his scent better, she realized just how ridiculous she is, yet she enjoyed it anyway.

Tiptoeing to the kitchen, she quickly realized she was sorely mistake. Ethan didn’t abandon her this morning at all, he was just trying to be… for the lack of a better word, Ethan.

The table is set, her favorite flowers in the middle, stacks of pancakes already prepared. She tilts her head to the opened fridge and a man’s ass being the only visible thing at this point and she’d know his ass anywhere. As the fridge closes, she’s met with a peculiar sight – his hands are full with different dressings, he’s even got a pack of cream in his mouth and she can’t help but shake her head at him fondly, gracing him with a small smile.

“Ey”, he manages something resembling a greeting, his eyes wider as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. She’s fast by his side, grabbing the pack from his mouth before she says “Hey” too. He can’t help but notice his shirt on her, but he thought it would be safer not to comment on it.

“Since eggs make you sick, I thought you might like pancakes.” Ethan shrugged with an innocent, but hopeful smile. Exhaling through her nose, Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“I’m fine with eggs, E. It was part of the…joke. But I won’t argue, I love pancakes.”

And so they ate, glancing at each other awkwardly and while it’s completely unacceptable, Ethan wished he’d let him touch her stomach. The baby’s merely a blob at this point, but he really wanted to feel her stomach, to feel connected to both of them.

“Do you think Grayson is free today?” Y/N breaks his inner monologue. Blinking fast, Ethan nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I want to do a checkup. I want to know everything is in order.” And that’s when Ethan stopped blinking altogether. In fact, he barely swallowed the last piece without choking.

“You want my brother to”, he stopped before he made things worse but Y/N picked up on what he means easily, rolling her eyes at him in irritation.

“I want him to do the ultrasound if it’s possible, a few labs, not a vaginal examination. I’ll ask Addy for that.” She explains, making it very, very clear she had no intention of letting Grayson anywhere near her lady parts.

Nodding, Ethan texted Grayson immediately, making it clear he’s to clear his schedule if he needs to and right when breakfast was over, the pair got ready and went into the clinic.

“Can I be happy for you?” Grayson whisper shouted in excitement as he lead them inside the room, all but clapping like a little kid, trying his best to ignore the glare Ethan is trying to kill him with.

“I’m still very angry with you. What you can do for me is do an ultrasound.” Y/N sent him a glare of her own, definitely more dangerous than Ethan’s, enough to make Grayson pipe down and press his lips together to hide any possible excitement as Y/N laid down and bared her stomach for him. Ethan settled on the chair beside the bed, his hand taking hers, interlocking their fingers and while she did glance at him in surprise, she didn’t fight his touch, rather tightened her hold on his hand in response.

“Did you draw blood?” Grayson questions as he starts the examination, trying to ease the tension that suffocated him. It’s evident she isn’t happy with either of the twins, but he didn’t expect to take so much heat for this. They’ve been friends this entire time, he thought it would have eased her anger but it seems that’s exactly what fueled it. He should have pushed Ethan to tell her sooner rather than later, maybe then they’d be laughing as they’re doing something so significant, something he’s dreaming of. He can’t wait to meet his soulmate, to fall in love and have kids and be more than what he is now. It’s nice to have more time to travel the world and find yourself, but the past fifty years have been too much. He’s been ready for a while now, he just can’t wait for her to be ready too.

“Yes. It will be back in a few. They did me a favor and put it first for testing.”

“I know you’re mad at me, princess, but this is the first baby Dolan and I’m still excited to be an uncle.” Grayson points out, only making Y/N confused.

“Didn’t you say your sister found her soulmate and is happy in Australia?”

“She did. But she isn’t romantic with her soulmate. They live across the street, but she’s married to someone else. They adopted three kids though. But it’s been a while since she died. Cameron found her soulmate when she was thirty and they had fifty two years together. We see her grandkids though.” Ethan responded, somber as he remembers the sister he loved dearly even if they didn’t always get along. She was always closer to Grayson and he struggled most when she passed even though they watched her grow old and she was very, very happy. That’s the curse of living so long – you see those you care for find their happiness and die while you’re frozen at twenty. It’s what Grayson fears the most – watching his brother grow old and die while he’s stuck as he is now.

Grayson nods, confirming Ethan’s words before licking his lips and his eyes narrow, making Y/N frown. Something doesn’t feel right. Grayson is never quiet, even if he’s trying not to get himself killed by her and maybe it has something to do with remembering his sister, but he’s too focused on the screen and his forehead is starting to glisten from sweat. The guy didn’t shut up the whole time as he did a breast ultrasound, so why did he quiet down now?

“You’re quiet. I don’t like it.” She spoke up, craning her neck to try and see the monitor and Ethan did the same.

Clearing his throat, Grayson turned to her with a small smile.

“Just need more gel.” Adding more of the cool gel on her stomach, Grayson emerges himself further into the ultrasound just as a knock on the door makes Y/N gasp.

“It’s Addy, I have the labs.” It’s time for Ethan to sweat because while Y/N may be perceptive and see that his brother is acting weird, he’s been with him for over a hundred years and he knows when something is off right from the start. Ethan sighs as the doctor enters. The sigh that came was a signal, not of his resolve leaving but of the level his tension had reached. Doctors aren’t usually ones picking up results, especially not experienced ones like Abby. Perhaps it’s special treatment because it’s Y/N and well, him, but he couldn’t help the odd feeling inside his chest that something’s amiss.

“Hello, dear. I got the call from the laboratory, so I thought I’d pick these up for you.” She smiles sweetly at Y/N and only then notices how serious everyone is. Seeing Ethan’s hand in Y/N’s only makes her smile wider, showing just how happy she is for Ethan to have found someone like Y/N. Addy wouldn’t comment on it, but she was wishing them a bright future.

“Thank you, Addison.” Grayson nods at the iPad, gesturing for her to hand it over and she’s quick to do so before excusing herself, leaving them alone.

“I swear to God if you don’t start speaking, I will start breaking things.” Y/N’s voice is low and threatening and her eyes are hard, but it doesn’t make it easier for Grayson at all.

“Your blood-work shows higher levels of Beta HCG, something that would show in a pregnancy.” Grayson starts, only to get interrupted with a very relieved chuckle from Ethan who was getting worse at hiding his joy over the pregnancy with each passing moment.

“You scared me. I thought there was something wrong.” But Ethan’s smile died down when he noticed Grayson’s gloomy face. There was no hints of joy on his face at all, just confusion and worry.

“There is something wrong, isn’t it?” Y/N forced herself to say it, to hear herself admit it. She wants this baby so bad, even if it isn’t the right timing nor way, but she does want the baby. Just this morning she felt…lucky for being able to get pregnant after thinking it wasn’t in the cards for her. She felt hopeful, and she didn’t feel lonely anymore. With Ethan and a tiny Ethan around, she saw her future filled with smiles and now? She couldn’t grasp it. It felt like she lost everything.

“Say it.” She insisted, because she needed to hear it. She needed to know. And though he knew he shouldn’t, Grayson said it.

“I can’t find the heartbeat.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Tags: @beinscorpio​​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​​ @heyits-claire​​​​ @dolandolll​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​​ @ethanhes​​​​ @iwastornsincethestart @graydolan12​​​​  @zeusgrayson​​​​ @libradolan​​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​​ @pineappledolan​​​​ @graysavant​​​​ @voguekristens @imayoutubere @livexdolan​​​​  @shadowsndaisies​​​​ @maybgrayson​​​​​ @dolans4lyfe​​​​​ @mendesficsxbombay​​​​​ @fxkthatdairy @sharpdolan​​​ @hollietee1​

Anyone crossed out wasn’t able to be tagged, probably an issue on Tumblr’s side, sorry.

[bts-story]

I just read your last reaction and could you do a oneshot for virgin jungkook, namjoon or jimin (whichever you prefer) it's sounds so adorable

First Things Comes First — Jungkook 

Characters: Jungkook X ReaderRated: I for I’m back bitcheeees

There were always a few things Jungkook did when nervous, particularly divided in three obnoxious steps.

First of all, when he came across Seokjin, knowing he did something he shouldn’t have or hinted of something wrong to anyone, his heart would start beating faster. Quickly, his vital organ would start pumping blood with more fervour with each second passing, so much Jungkook could literally hear it ringing in his ears. His hands would water a little bit, clammy and uncomfortable hanging against his sides like a middle-school boy ready to get scolded.

Before an important exam, before any competition or any event whatsoever that meant a lot to him, Jungkook would start biting his nails. He would eat the flesh around his fingers, teeth digging through his skin like a mad piranha. He would dance on the sole of his feet, balancing his weight back and forth to try and occupy himself, trying not to gnaw at his brain too much.

The worst stage of Jungkook’s nervousness was this. When the boy would develop some difficulties to inhale air down to his lungs, when he would stutter on his words without so much of success in aligning two words after another, when his mouth would run dry and get irritated with what anyone would say to him was things only hinting anyone of much nervousness the boy was feeling at the time.

However, right here, right then, Jungkook’s nervousness reached a high he never thought was possible before. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the epitome of nervous, Jungkook was probably feeling a thousand points, fair and square. He would probably develop a tachycardia much very soon, probably even went into cardiac arrest if he kept staring.

She’s there. Naked.

The glory of a goddess sculpted by the hands of Michelangelo himself. An angel fallen off the sky and God must be crying ever since for losing such beauty. Her breasts are full and plump, not very big but so smooth and delicate it has Jungkook’s mind running blank at the sight. His eyes travelled down however, her belly isn’t flat, it isn’t big either but there’s enough skin for Jungkook to grab and caress if ever he dared to. And then, down, down, down was that forbidden fruit men could start wars for.

Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed red, and he should look away. He should because being a witness to such beauty should be punished by the laws of the universe, a worthless mortal like him shouldn’t have the possibility, the rightto let his eyes wander around a body like this. But there isn’t any dark angel appearing out of nowhere to drag him to face a justice, there aren’t policemen knocking on the door to punish him of any crime.

They are here. Alone. Just the two of them.

“Don’t you just stand there, Jeon Jungkook. Your turn.” Her voice is like honey, but Jungkook must be mistaken because all he hears are doves singing the most floristics of music. He shakes his head painfully, forcefully trying to pull himself out of his trance because, somehow, this should start getting a little bit creepy.

Jungkook clears his throat, tares his eyes away from her because suddenly, it’s too much. His heart rose up to stuck on his throat but it anywise it keeps beating faster with each second passing. It must be at least fifty thousand degrees in the room, and Jungkook has trouble breathing. He needs to work on his inspirations for a moment, breathing in and out, in and out because he’s sure he’s going to pass out very soon if he doesn’t.

Jungkook reaches behind his head, tucks out his own shirt to reveal a toned chest, one he worked over and over again at the gym before and his effort might have pulled off because the sound she makes when she takes a glimpse of his torso is enough to make a smile curl up Jungkook’s lips. He tried not to think too much when he unzips his denim jeans, pulling down his boxers right at the same time and it’s unfair.

Anatomy is fucked up, it’s something unfair and unwise because there isn’t any reason for a man to show so easily how riled up and excited he is in front of anybody so beautiful. There isn’t one single and proper purpose for a manhood to rise and grow fully in all its glory while a woman’s anatomy only hides anything but lets the imagination running. The excitation could be there, but hidden beneath the surface of her skin, boiling inside and if Jungkook never paid really much attention to his science’s classes, he could have felt conscious of the oblivious boner reaching his lower tummy.

She bit his lips. And she soon closes the gap between them to catch a prize in Jungkook’s mouth. Their lips crash together, their tongues meet and Jungkook can’t hold himself much longer, his hands find her hips, her back, her butt – anything in his reach, really.

It’s the first time. There hasn’t been one moment during the twenty-one years of Jungkook’s life where he found himself in this very situation. There hasn’t been anything in his life that could compare to this right moment, and he may have waited for it his entire life, everything just seems surreal now. No matter how long he dreamt of this scenario, no matter how many times he pictures the scene in his head during boring classes or joked about it with close friends, nothingcould have prepared him for this.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” and it’s probably a lie coming from her lips because sheis the one to do things to Jungkook’s body and brain. It has him burn neurons thinking too much of what to with his hands or how to move his tongue inside her mouth. In all, it doesn’t change the fact that the way she’s feeling too.

“Youhave no idea what you do to me,” Jungkook echoes playfully and he tries so hard to look composed, as if he knew what he was doing even though he clearly doesn’t have one single clue whatsoever.

She chuckles, something Jungkook fell in love with the very first time he heard it. “I think I have a pretty good idea, actually.” The thing he felt when she took a fistful of his length, grabbing his skin to pump up and down with more wit than not, Jungkook thinks there might have been one or two curses flowing out his mouth that would’ve surely own him at least two slaps at the back of his head coming from any of his elders in any other situation but this very one.

His mind is blank. He doesn’t understand anything happening, couldn’t bring himself into believing this isn’t one of his many fantasies because, it all happens so fast. There is this time gap where he suddenly finds himself on top of her down on the bed, kissing her body wherever he can reach with his lips. Her nails are digging inside the flesh of his biceps and shoulders, but it doesn’t hurt much, not really.

There this moment when she goes down on him that he’s not quite able to describe, that he wouldn’t even be able to tell-tale to anyone even to save his own life. It’s a secret he’ll keep all to himself, something that belongs to him and him alone. However, the moment when his tip brushes against her entrance, a promise of wet and hot owned by her body, Jungkook thinks this is probably the brightest moment of his life.

It’s true to say the boy excels in many fields of activity, anyone could be witness of his dancing skills along the sides of his singing that probably equals highly to the words he spits while rapping. Good grades, many friends, he pretty much succeeds in more or less every sport. But this is new, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to move, or where to aim or what to do with his hands.

He saw movies. Of course, he can’t deny his teenage self, can’t deny his hormones messing with his head, obliging him to search on the internet and take a relief of himself because the pain is sometimes too much, and in the end, he’s entitled to the phrase boys will be boys.

It’s something else. It’s nothing Jungkook ever felt before. When the tip of his length finally crosses the threshold of her womanhood, it’s tight and hot and wet and it’s all he ever expected, yet the sensation brings stars to his head. It makes him dizzy, and if he was in a cartoon show, there would be stars circling around his head to testify of his feelings right now.

He needs directions, words flowing out of her mouth which doesn’t necessarily makes him feel stupid or think he’s dumb, on the contrary, he’s leading to do things that would make her reach a high. One that was so anticipated and awaited like the next superstar. Jungkook thinks it’s not entirely that difficult, that he always panics over stupid things – or maybe over things that shouldn’t really deserve a reaction like this one anyway.

But as he keeps bucking his hips back and forth, trying so hard to keep a pace where he doesn’t get to stop, she whispers things in his ears which send butterflies to fly all around his stomach. It’s a weird sensation to describe, but it’s there and it’s real and Jungkook might feel nervous, he thinks it’ll be alright.

Because she’s here, and she’s his. And his hers.

—– 

Guyyyyyyyyys, hello again!!! 

It’s so good to be back omg; I honestly didn’t though I’d take this blog again, but I missed you SO MUCH actually. Anyways, coronavirus sucks. Stay safe guys, stay home and don’t get sick! 

See you SO SOON!! I’m so EXCITED!! 

- Nageoire 

[omega-deku]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ART IN GENERAL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. Put in the time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some resources that may be helpful:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

COMICS

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

Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics & Making Comics.

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

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

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

[fancoloredglasses]

Dungeons & Dragons episode review Module 1-13: P-R-E-S-T-O Spells Disaster

[Show-related images are owned by Wizards of the Coast and Marvel Entertainment. Please don’t sue]

It’s never a good sign when the title of the adventure includes one of the party members...

We have another adventure without Venger getting involved, and is the final adventure for the first part of the campaign (i.e. the last episode of season 1) We also have the DM once again borrowing heavily from folklore. As always, Watch cartoons Online for your viewing pleasure

Where the PCs are: Bobby is the only party member still at 5th level, while Diana and Sheila are 7th level; the rest are 6th. I’ll guess Presto and maybe Bobby will level up.

We open with the party already in deep trouble as they’re running away from something. What are they running from?

You know, Stegosauruses are herbivores, so they really must have pissed it (or the DM) off bad. Just watch out for the Thagomizer

(Thanks to TIL Destiny Edition)

[BTW, I love that the scientific community adopted Gary Larson’s joke name of that part of a stegosaurus anatomy as its official name]

Hank wants to stand and fight, but for once everyone listens to Eric and keeps running. They eventually run into a cave too small for the dinosaur to follow. Unfortunately, it’s occupied by Orcs.

Hank immediately fires, scattering the group. Unfortunately, the party is quickly overwhelmed...

...except Presto (we’ll get to him in a minute) The leader threatens to toss the party into a crater filled with lava (with 6 more Orcs, so that’s 16 Orcs (there are 10 in the above image) We need to keep a proper tally just in case the party doesn’t flee or an NPC doesn’t show up to save the day)

Eric pleads with Presto (who managed to hide while everyone else was being gathered) to cast something. You know, Eric is easily Presto’s biggest critic of his abilities (not that it isn’t warranted; I mean, Presto is a horrible wizard...) but is almost always the first to tell Presto to cast something. Anyway, Presto conjures up a windstorm that drives off the Orcs. Unfortunately, it pulls a Dorothy on the rest of the party, leaving Presto and Uni alone. So...net win? As has been previously logged, Orcs are 10XP each, so 160XP total. Not sure how Presto’s gonna get past the Stegosaurus...maybe it ate the Orcs and left?

And what of the rest of the party? They appear in a clearing (what is it with this DM and splitting the party?) Surprisingly, Eric is the first to realize Presto is missing (not surprisingly, he does so after insulting Presto) and Bobby realizes Uni’s gone too.

Then the party realizes something ferocious and/or hungry is heading their way (is the Stegaraurus looking for another snack?) so they run...into some sort of clear barrier...

On that note, let’s check in with Presto (ERIC: WHAT?! HANK: Calm down. You know the DM loves drama...) The cave mouth is clear, (so maybe the Stegosaurus really did eat the Orcs) so Presto and Uni exit. At that time, Dungeon Master appears and tells Presto that his spell teleported the party to a “far off land” where they’re facing “great danger” (So...pretty much anywhere in the realm?) and the in order to help them he must “climb to new heights of courage” and he must “meet three strangers and lose something very important to him” (so...his virginity? I mean, look at him! Unless he was in Band Camp, there’s no way he’s gotten laid) Then, of course, Dungeon Master pulls his vanishing act.

Back to the party, they face a rather familiar monster...

...and I still have no clue what the hell it is.

Diana comments that the barrier is like glass, so Bobby gets the bright idea to smash it with his club. Miraculously, this works and the party escapes the whatever-that-is yet again so I don’t have to figure out how to assign XP. The party then takes a look at their new surroundings. They are on a table inside a room where everything is at least ten times larger than it should be. Then it all makes sense when they meet the owner of the room (and I’m sure the building it’s attached to)...

...so now the DM is ripping off Jack and the Beanstalk? Well, if they encounter the magic goose then at least they won’t have to worry about paying for provisions...

The giant (let’s call him a Storm Giant, as they’re the largest variety, unless I see otherwise) grabs the party. Eric immediately starts throwing insults, which causes the Giant to want to give him a lesson in manners. Hank manages to get a shot off, which misses by a mile (which is impressive, given this guy is probably a mile high) The giant accuses the party of trying to steal his golden egg (I KNEW IT!) He then introduces the party to Willy, his pet Slime Beast

So THAT’S what it is! A Slime Beast! Ummm...so what the fuck is a Slime Beast?

The Giant proposes a game of Hide & Eat (if Willy finds them, he eats them!) The party runs and slides under the crack in a door that Willy can’t get through.

Meanwhile, Presto and Uni wander into a town (only the second we’ve seen in the entire campaign so far) Presto is looking for the three strangers, but to no avail. For whatever reason, Uni wanders into a tavern (this feels like the setup for a joke) and gets grabbed by a three-headed Ogre

[FUN FACT: In the 80s, Ral Partha Miniatures actually made a 3 Headed Ogre figure. However, it doesn’t look anything like the Ogre in the tavern...

(Thanks to Reaper Miniatures)

...probably because the production company didn’t wanna be sued by the estate of the Stooges]

The Ogre wants to trade three “magic marbles” for Uni. Presto refuses (probably because Bobby would kill him if he did), so the Ogre “insists” they play the “skull game” (really just the shell game with skulls), which goes as you’d expect...

(Thanks to Doc Dixon)

...but at least the Ogre gave him the marbles as a consolation prize.

Later, Presto is feeling sorry for himself (for good reason) and throws away the marbles. They sink into the ground and a beanstalk petrified tree shoots out of the ground and grows into the sky. Conveniently, there appears to be a staircase at the base...

“I guess that’s what Dungeon Master meant by ‘climb to new heights of courage’...“

Presto refuses to enter the tree...until Uni appears, followed by Larry, Moe, and Curly! As the pair retreat into the tree, the door slams shut.

After climbing the stairs for an indeterminate amount of time, Presto thinks he should turn back, but the tree has other ideas...

Presto takes the hint and continues climbing with Uni.

Meanwhile, at the Giant’s castle, (because of course it’s a castle) the party is hiding inside a broom. Eric gloats about his hiding skills, only to spy Willy on the handle of the broom, lying in wait. Hank leads the party to climb to a nearby window, but Willy swoops in and grabs Bobby! Diana tosses her staff at Willy, making him drop Bobby. Hank then fires a bolt at a nearby mop bucket, making it slide under Bobby so he doesn’t become a Barbarian Pancake on the floor below. He then fires a second bolt that catches Bobby’s club, carrying him up to the windowsill.

But Willy isn’t so easily thwarted as he tries to swoop in for another grab, but Diana throws her staff again, knocking the shade off of a nearby wall lamp. It falls on Willy, then to the floor, trapping him. Fuck, now I gotta figure out XP for a monster that doesn’t exist in any D&D book! I’m gonna say...*consulting DMG for what I know about Willy...give him enough strength to be a challenge to a party of adventurers that average level 6...4 attacks (because 4 arms)...* 1350XP

Eric breathes a sigh of relief, until...

The Giant challenges the party to a fight. The guy really should pick on someone his own size (or at least a group that could be his size if they stood on each others’ shoulders) Actually, he just threatens to.

He then notes that a golden egg has been laid and sends Willy to get it. He then decides to use the party to play Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Dragons.

Bobby has enough of the Giant’s antics and smashes the game. The party then runs, but not before Hank fires a bolt that tears a nearby curtain, making it fall on the Giant’s head. The Giant gives chase once he’s able to see again (you’d think it would be a short chase, but...)

Meanwhile, Presto and Uni are still climbing the stairs. Presto then hears a cry of anguish, he runs to a nearby window (in a tree?) and sees...

...a baby dragon holding on for dear life. Judging by the color, I’m gonna say either a Brass or Copper Dragon (it may make a difference if combat occurs) Presto comes out to help the baby, but slips and barely catches himself on the branch. Uni then rushes out and grabs Presto’s hat, whipping up a flying carpet (maybe she should be the party wizard) that floats them safely inside. Everyone is happy, until...

...Mama shows up, and she looks pissed that her precious Junior would soil itself with a filthy human! Presto tries to get Junior to go to Mama, but Junior doesn’t wanna go. Finally, Presto tosses Junior to Mama and high-tails it out of there, but not before Mama gets in a parting shot (of flame. Given Copper and Brass Dragons breathe gas, I guess it wasn’t either...but what kind was it? Why does the DM have to keep making up monsters?)

Finally, Presto and Uni reach the top of the tree, (where there’s yet another door) followed closely by Mama. Just as Presto’s about to become Dragon Chow...

...Willy shows up and steals an egg from Mama’s nest (”golden” egg? Hang on...*flip flip* Oh, it’s a GOLD Dragon!) Suddenly, Presto isn’t so interesting. Presto spies the castle, then hears the familiar girlish scream of Eric. He realizes the others are in trouble (so what else is new?) and runs in.

Speaking of the screamer, he and the rest of the party are still somehow outrunning the Giant (my guess would be they keep doubling back and through his legs and he can’t quickly turn around) Then Willy shows up with the egg, so the Giant gives him the party as a treat (and the game of hide and eat begins anew)

And this is where Presto rejoins the party (well, is in the same area, anyway) Presto tries his magic and somehow conjures a cage that captures Willy for another 1350XP (this time with Presto involved)

We have a happy reunion until the Giant shows up again. They start heading fior the exit, but then Presto remembers the Giant has Mama’s egg. Fortunately, the Giant has his hand low enough for Presto to grab it and off they run (with Eric holding the egg. Who wants to bet Mama’s gonna be pissed at Eric?) Unfortunately, the egg hatches. Now Eric needs to carry a baby Gold Dragon.

The party runs out of the castle and into the tree. Naturally the Giant climbs down the tree after them ($5 says Bobby chops it down with his club...which means I’ll need to figure out how many XP a Storm Giant is worth)

Aaaaaaaand then Mama shows up.

Mama immediately snatches up Baby and Eric, but instead of completely obliterating Eric...

...He’s her hero! (much to Eric’s chagrin)

Suddenly, Hank remembers they have a Giant chasing them (who must be the slowest Giant ever and he still hasn’t caught up with them, despite the fact that they’re running in a slope around the inside and he’s going straight down) and start running again, accompanied by Mama, Junior, and Baby.

When they reach the bottom, the door is still closed, so Bobby makes his own door. And here comes the Giant. Presto decides to try magic again. Given the Law of Averages, this shouldn’t end well. However, he manages to get a spell off that destroys the tree and makes the Giant vanish. So a Storm Giant is worth...*flip flip* 8450XP

Mama and family make a nest in the remains of the tree and Mama wants to adopt Eric as a pet

(I hope he’s nestbroken)

The party receives 9960XP, or 1660 Each. That would be Presto’s share, as the rest receive an additional 1350XP, or 270XP each for a total of 1930XP, which is not enough for anyone to level up

[thedarkestdragonknight]

Fatherhood, His New Chapter

Content Warning: This story contains mentions of Graphic Violence, Character Death, Gore, Blood and other sensitive material. Please keep yourself safe and read at your discretion <3

I finally managed to sit myself down and will myself to write more. This story is a slight continuation from “Blood on the Steppe” so the content in this, while not as heavily detailed, is still going to be for mature audiences. This also explores more into what I had in mind with the previous story and details it slightly more here. Again, it’s a mix of poachers hunting certain animals for their body parts for use in folklore medicinal things with a bit of Hannibal Lector in there (Without the Cannibalism to an extent) so this should give an idea of what to expect from this story as well as the previous one.

I will say I am not 100% sure if I want to make this canon or just simply an AU for Jacques now. I’ve been having a lot of anxiety and emotional problems with it for some reason and I’m debating on what to do. Either way, Jac stepping up and being the big daddy that he always could be here. Even if there isn’t too much interaction between him and the babu yet... that’ll come if I do another ‘chapter’ to this series.

The sun was slowly starting to disappear behind the cliffs in the distance... just past the Dawn Throne. Jacques had made his way up to the cliff that he had been traveling to before he came upon the... gruesome scene that lead him to the child who was sleeping curled up in his lap. The man was simply watching the lingering light as he was trying to figure out just what he should do now... he didn't know what to do in a situation like this so his mind was going in several directions trying to just... find one solution to the situation. What to do... what was the best course in this case... Carefully the Au Ra brought his hand down to rest on the young boys back, feeling as the child twitched in his sleep before he curled up more. The boy was pressing against Jacques' stomach and those small hands were clutching at the Au Ra's tunic shirt... clinging to it and not wanting to let go at all. Gently Jacques rubbed at the boys back in a comforting manner, wanting to reassure the child that he was still there and that the boy was safe with him. Especially since the poor thing likely had to see his family getting slaughtered...

His thoughts lingered on that... Jacques had come across the boys father and what he would assume was older brother, but there had been no signs of the boys mother. And that had him concerned, where as she? Or had she been killed along with the others? If she was killed was it at the same time or had she been killed well before this event? The mans attention slowly drifted to the side of the cliff, towards the cavern that lead into Yanxia... he'd seen the blood leading from there. There was a slight grimace as Jacques thought about what could have happened, the many outcomes and of course... those what ifs. His mind lingered more, he was concerned that he could have saved the boys mother if she had been alive. But if he saved her then the boy likely would have been lost. And then there was just the thought that she was likely gone because of the... 'hunters' partner having taken what was needed. Those thoughts made the Au Ra grit his teeth ever so slightly... grinding them together as he closed his eyes. These 'hunters' had targeted the boys family for very specific reasons... their scales, tails and potentially their horns as well. When he had set out to give the two a proper burial he'd taken note of how their scales had been carved off their bodies and the father's tail had been cut clean off with the scales of his back. The only other damages done were the killing blows which was done with a blunt weapon to no doubt avoid damaging the scales too much and to potentially avoid damaging the horns. Of course, his mind was wondering just why these bastards would do such a thing but... he'd heard some stories before and even read up on certain things in a few books. Some people had certain traditions that would use the body parts of various animals in the world because of folk tales that spoke of medicinal properties to them. One such thing was with the Mammoths of the step and their tusks... of course, Mammoths were far more abundant and weren't... well people. A thought came to mind however because of how his scales were often shed and how most reptiles would shed their skin as they grew. Jacques shifted only slightly so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping babe and he reached over to grab a leatherbound journal. The hunters journal. Looking down to the child in his lap he watched as the boy was suckling on his thumb in his sleep... noting how the boy had wrapped his tail around his leg and just how he was curled up. Slowly the man drew his hand away so that he could look over the pages of the journal... would he find the answers to this... bastards ways. Would he find out why the family had died for... well no reason in his mind. Perhaps he would... As Jacques flipped through the pages he would see sketched out pictures, Au Ra specifically... each section detailing the anatomy and specifically pointing out the scales and horns. Other areas would point out information about various reptiles of the world... such as the serpents found in the Ruby Sea or the small Frilled Dragon that most would keep as a pet. It detailed about how these reptiles would shed their skin and there was mentions about how reptiles shed their skin several times if they had a severe wound to get rid of the scar tissue and to mend the area. Flipping through a couple other pages Jacques paused as he came to one page that brought attention to the scales of the Au Ra and he was looking it over. A low snort coming out of him as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly... so that was it then. These... hunters believed that the scales of the Au Ra could lead to regenerative properties... and could even lead to the regrowth of limbs. Grazing a clawed nail along the page he was taking it all in... "A non-lethal blow to the head..." he muttered out before gritting his teeth ever so slightly, so if the boys family hadn't been killed then they would have just been left to die anyway. The thought being that just taking the horns and scales wouldn't harm them and that those regenerative properties would mean that the things taken would simply grow back. Movement caught his attention as he looked down to the boy who had shifted and was sniffling a bit as he was starting to wake. Jacques closed the journal and set it aside before he shifted again and brought his hand down to rub at the boys back as he was stirring more. The child rubbing at his eyes as he whimpered out softly... "It's okay..." a soothing voice as Jacques continued to stroke the boys back before he drew his hand away to allow the child to sit up, of course... once the boy was up he was clutching onto the massive Au Ra and clinging to him again with such a fierce need to not let go. He couldn't blame the boy... especially after what he saw and knowing well what could have been after he'd read through the pages of the journal. Part of him wanted to bring this to the attention of the Tribes of the Steppe but... he had the boy to care for now as well. Sure, he could take the child along with him but he didn't want to scare the poor kid by showing him the various tribes of the Steppe. Of course, the Mol and the Qestir weren't the ones he was truly worried about... and his attention carefully turned to the Dawn Throne as he thought about it. Magnai had learned his lesson when he'd challenged him the one time... but his concerns were with Daidukul and the Buduga. Then again... the boy was of the Raen so perhaps he didn't have too much to worry about. But he didn't want to risk it... nor did he want to deal with the... 'problematic children' of the Steppe, which is how he saw both Sadu and Magnai. Jacques shifted his attention towards Reunion however... he'd want to pick up some supplies before heading back to Limsa and he could leave the word there. Every clan would come through Reunion at one point or another and then word could easily spread throughout the Steppe... which, while likely not the fastest of means to get the information out there, meant that he wouldn't have to worry too much about the child and potentially scaring the boy further. Jacques carefully shifted enough so that he could stand up, bringing an arm down and under the boys legs to prop him up so he could hug onto him easier and wrap his arms around his neck so that he wouldn't have to worry about falling "How about we go and get you something to eat hm?" a warm smile formed over his features as he looked at the boy. He could still hear him sniffling... but the boy was carefully rubbing at his teary eyes before he looked up at the man and gave the slightest hint of a nod... now was the big task of trying to figure out what the boy wanted to eat, or would eat... Milk and such would likely be the go to for drinks... but what about food? Well... he could ask those of the Qestir what they might suggest for it as well as those who were there in Reunion. When you didn't know what to do it was always better to ask for guidance after all... and he never had to deal with children before until now "Yukiko, let's go." once he called the large snowy wolf was rushing over from where she had been resting. Tails wagging happily before she came around to sniff at the boy who was burying his face against Jacques again. Not because he was scared but rather because he was trying to avoid getting his face licked... Thankfully the boy had been able to get acquainted with the 'Fenrir' pup as she was who carried them up to the cliffside and had actually stayed curled up next to them while Jacques was checking the child over. Yukiko had also been doing her best to take care of the boy because he was a 'puppy' that needed a 'mama' so to speak and those paternal instincts were on overdrive now. At least she was being gentle and understanding, especially since the poor kids reaction at first was fear obviously. Reaching out with his free hand Jacques gave the large wolf a scratch behind the ear before he was pulling himself up onto Yukiko's back. Settling in and making sure that his little bean wasn't going to fall off in the process, he was growing... attached to the kid. And now he was hoping that he could give the boy a home... especially since it was more than likely that the boy had no family left. Which those thoughts got a sad frown to cross his features before Jacques gave the wolf a gentle pet "Go on girl, let's head to Reunion..."

[edelwary]

when you were first getting into art, what and how did you draw? (like did you just doodle ur masterpieces on pieces of paper and posted-notes or did you have a proper sketchbook) how did you find motivation? bc ive been trying to draw but I always get unmotivated and stop while still wanting to get better just by doing nothing.

REALLY LONG, LOTS OF ADVICES FOR ARTISTS : 

TL;DR ; skip to the HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW part bc i have a megaton of shit to say lol + The MOTIVATION part 

mmh… I’ll get into details with this one tbh bc it’s a long ass process ahah : 

I live by the sea ; when i was youung i used to draw TONS of boat, but like, dollhouse boats, you could see the insides and stuff ; i loved to add tiny details and stuff, and imbricate everything together !

around 8 or 9 yo, i went to the public library with school and discovered the wonderful world of mangas ! I basically… Copy pasted an entire Mermaid Melody tome x) 

For about 2 years i alternated between reading mangas and trying to copy them ! Then i just kept drawing in the margins of my schoolwork for about… 5 years ! I have a Fuck Ton of sketchbooks of that time, it was… The start. Lol. Never say it’s bad because it’s never bad, just not there yet !!

Around my 13 yo, i went every saturday, for two years, under a bookstore ; there was a cave, and drawing classes ; that teacher was mean and harsh and stuff, but like… Not really. He would take away my eraser for the class, force me to use pencil, to draw something else (bulky boys instead of magical girls). 

I’ve learned a lot, more in terms of How To LEARN to draw than to draw itself, but i still progressed a LOT !! 

Then i kept drawing by myself for a year and i really worked hard on it ; about hours a day, trying watercolors and stuff ; i have a real problem with colors in traditionnal art, but i’m much better with lines (i should scan some RAD stuff i made in the weekend, yall ive never done anything this good i stg i dont know why i always forget im so much better on paper) 

This gets us to my sweet 16 ; i have to year of advance, bc i got ‘’’promoted’’’ idk how to say it ; anyways, i entered my (current) animation school for the first year at 16; vERY IMPRESSIVE AND TERRIFYING. 

And i learned. A fuckmegaton. Of shit there. 

Now i’m going for my third year there and i can make photorealistic marmora blades and cyberkpunk decors if i want to and that’s rad, but here is

 HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW : 

I have one HYPER important advice, and i’m keeping it to heart since i’m like, 11 : Have. Sketchbooks. Please !!! It’s very important. Here’s why : 

You keep everything with you in one place. You have 1 sketchbook, it’s basically easy to take every where (a A5, or A4 are pretty easy to carry, i have like, 12 of those, and around 8 of A3) 

You keep track of what you’ve done. It’s super important, bc first you can cry of laughter at your old stuff bc its cute but not so good, and second, you can just be like ‘holy mama’ and see how much you’ve improved

It’s very important to be organized. I WORK in art, and trust me, if there’s something that i’ve learned this year through tears and missing files and bugs : Be. Impeccable. Now if it’s for fun, go a little loose, and just have a folder for art on your computer, and a sketchbook, no need to stress, but the better you try to keep a record of where is what, the better you’ll see whats wrong

Notebooks are friends !! You can draw, write, glue stuff, make notes, lists, everything !!! I have my life in those. It’s more important to me than any of my phones. 

Be proud of it. Like, not everything, duh ! But try to tell yourself than it’s like a RPG ; even if it’s only 2 xp here and there, one day you’ll beat level 40, and that’s super important : art is. Fuckin. Long.

I cant stress it enough. It’s soooo long !!! SO LONG !! it’s years. It’s like karate and fishing and ANYTHING. To be good at it, it takes time, but it WILL COME if you keep trying. There’s no secret passage. 

You’re gonna me it, believe in me who believes in you. 

Use. References. 

Coming from a little shit who’s got a really good visual memory, that can sound like bs, but i stg everything is always AT LEAST twice as good if you’ve used a visual support. 

I’m not saying COPY EVRYTHING (even though thats a good training) I’m saying, if you really want to do that asian tiger, please have at least two or three pictures of it nearby. Take photos of your hands, and stuff ! 

Make it harder. 

No eraser. 

Paint. 

I draw all my backgrounds on my sketchbook with INDIAN INK; no returns, no refunds. 

Ink, Ink, INK !! Don’t allow mistakes.

And if you make mistakes :

New page, restart

It’s okay

It’s for you

I once started back again a whole EXAM bc it was bad, i got one of my best grades 

You’ll improve and be more assured if you know you just have to DO IT. Trust me. It’s VISIBLE; if you can erase, you fidget and hesitate and ‘’kbeujebez hahhaaa idkkidsd’’ ; stop ; do it, and if you don’t like it ? Try again, there’s no time limit

Draw as large as you can 

There’s no interesting story here, it just helps. Bigger movement of the hand, more place for details, breathing lines

Thin lineart helps

Thinner. Make it even thinner

Break the rules, but not the ones that structure your art 

Big lineart ? Why not

Unfinished lines, vaporeous colors ? Pretty

Cubism is actually based on extensive and intense practice of classical art, it’s not wibbly wooblly ; the anatomy is more correct than you think 

Structure and composition are important, but so is movement and life ; choose your fighter ; mine is fluidity and fun, i’m like, a rogue/archer in drawing. Some people are dwarf fighter. That’s amazing and great. 

Don’t be afraid to do nothing

Pages and pages of my sketchbooks are actually just lance facing right and smiling, you know… 

Sometimes it just doesnt work : two ways :

Take a break, Kiki’s delivery service style

Keep trying, break your art until it obeys and comes back

Take breaks. Breath. 

Don’t compare. I do it, it doesn’t help at all. You’ll make it ; and if you compare, keep in mind that everyone’s different

I’m not gonna lie, it’s NOT easy, it’s even hard 

But I really, really think it’s worth it 

MOTIVATION :

My main bitch 

I’m always pumped for art because i can LITTERALLY NOT do anything else ; i love reading and writing and stuff but at the end of the day i just want !!! to draw !!!! aaaaaa-

Fall in love with it, and with the possibilities ; i have stories to tell, tell me yours ! Do your best, one day it WILL work

Actual advices : 

I have an inspiration blog where i just reblogs stuff i like to draw them later

Find a picture, copy it. Do it again. Change the characters (i have 2 ocs and Lance and Keith as default characters) in the pic. 

Like an artstyle ? Break it to its very core, analyse it, copy it, redo it, trace it and ABSORB it. Don’t copy/past, LEARN from your heroes.

Do what you like. I have 86578 pieces of voltron, this is not a coincidence. I have ENDLESS ideas for this show, wtf. 

Try new things. Buy indian ink im begging you. It’s so cool. 

Have a game with yourself, or a challenge. STICK TO IT. 

Study. When you’re bored, usually it’s because you’re stagnating. Make it harder or do hands until you cry. 

Love your backgrounds; make backgrounds, study trees, and tokyo streets, and venice’s bridges. Decor is just as cool as characters, if not more

Mess a little with everything. My roomate more than one found me stained from head to toes trying to DO STUFF 

Draw outfits. Draw what you want but can’t afford 

MAKE YOUR LIFE A COMIC. Remember those sketchbooks ? Make a comic a week/month/every full moon, whatever, and draw your life (mine’s the roomates au lol) 

Prompts blogs are cool too 

Make fanart of a fic you liked ; you have the characters and the pose already, you just have to illustrate ; double bonus, you probably will make a writer’s day, if not year !

That little movie that plays when you listen to your favorite song ? DRAW IT

Your favorite scene in your favorite movie ? Redraw each shot. On post it. Plus it looks awesome afterwards to have the infamous TREX scene of Jurassic Parks in post it

Get bored. That’s inevitable. Dance, scream, get back to it. Walk, draw everything you see. 

Make a paper google map street view : Take a walk : every 50 meters, draw what is in front of you. 

Snapchats your friends. Draw their snapchats when they answer 

Draw maps. Invent places. Invent bikes, and hovercrafts, and monsters. Make your everyday inventory. Make your life a video game, and do the concept arts of it. 

FETCH your inspiration. I have approx. 20 artbooks, full of drawings and concept arts of my fave movies/games ; take what you like and add it to the story you have since you’re 8. We all have one. 

Ask for it ; your sis, your mom, me even ! If you dont have ideas, someone will have them. 

WELL i’m gonna stop there, even though i got like, 9864567 more to say, but with this you should be fine ! Anon, i’m rooting for you ! we all start somewhere, just hold on!!!! 

[home-working]

Let There Be Sunlight

Holy shit it’s 2019! What did you get up to in 2018? What were your achievements, your successes? (Tumblr, I see that you have quasi-upgraded your blogging platform so I can have proper post titles AND photo layouts, congrats! Except they don’t really work!!)

One thing I did was upgrade my workspace, cause holy fuck it was starting to get depressing having my desk in a dark corner.

Welcome to Homeworking HQ (Ditmas Park) 2.0! Now I get to push pixels beside my big, bright, plant-adorned window, which allows me to bathe in all the reflected sunlight I can take and more easily spy on the people across the street at all hours of the day. In addition to relocating my desk, I got rid of another shitty table I didn’t like/need and replaced it with something useful: colour-coordinated S-T-O-R-A-G-E!

Behold!

Since apparently I don’t know how to purchase anything that isn’t red, yellow or blue, I found this not-Bisley™ wheeled filing cabinet online and then filled it with shit to organize other-shit-that-was-cluttering-up-my-apartment. There is nothing quite as satisfying as hidden things unnecessarily matching other things that are also hidden!

The only other surface I now have to eat off/do anything at is this IKEA “kitchen island” which I mostly end up standing at if I have a guest over like some awkward personal bartender because I currently only have one tall stool:

December: back on the holiday caramel-making bullshit.

Anyways, so far, it’s been a success sitting 10 feet closer to a natural light source, measurable by the fact that I really actually enjoy sitting at my desk again.

Wow, I’m sitting beside a window! Ok!

But how else does one define success? Purchasing objects to improve your quality of life is one thing, but measuring success in your career and personal life is trickier.

Warning: the rest of this post is basically me practicing long winded/unfunny/unresearched existential thought diarrhea so feel free to maybe skip it!

When I was younger and still unsure of what direction my life would take post-art school, I knew that at least no matter what I ended up doing, I wanted to be successful at it, and loosely defined that “success” as being able to make a living from it (growing up in a financially unstable household, self-sustained monetary security was of high importance). I was very lucky that I fell into a creative line of work that I not only found enjoyable and challenging, but was able to turn into a relatively fruitful career.

But the thing with a low threshold of success is that as soon as you achieve it, you need to begin rescaling your definition of it to keep moving forward: you need to embrace AMBITION.

O, ambition! What highs! I remember in my late 20s working a full-time advertising job then coming home and joyfully working a number of assorted freelance jobs. I loved it! (My then-boyfriend hated it!) I was productive! I was building a portfolio! The future! and! amount! of! work! was! limitless!

But now I’m TIRED. Thinking about work makes me TIRED. Just seeing my phone display “January” made me TIRED. Last year when I had a temporary full-time gig, with a 1.5-hour daily commute, I got home and ate take-out sushi with 13 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and ignored my freelance work and fell the fuck ASLEEP.

And still, despite a lack of energy (vitamin B and heme iron be damned), I feel guilty every minute of the day before 10pm that I’m not working on something. Even if all my client jobs are complete, I still feel like I should be taking advantage of that rare “free time” and work on a personal project (this post itself is a direct result of the joy/guilt from staying in on New Year’s Eve).

There’s the concept of a healthy work/life balance, but who has time for that? No minute can ever be wasted, because ambition is always perched on your shoulder whispering: you need to produce MORE THINGS; you need to work HERE, or teach THERE; you need to be on THIS WEBSITE, or THIS LIST, or in THIS GALLERY, or work with THIS STUDIO, and have THIS TITLE, or give THIS TALK… or you’re not really achieving success. Even if to outside eyes it might look like you’re doing pretty damn good, when you measure yourself next to your industry peers, you’re ultimately a smidgen above average, at best.

What’s sadly comforting is that achievement insecurity pervades almost everyone. A friend that I consider to be extremely successful (owning companies, property) once confided that their own family doesn’t see their achievements to be very worthwhile. Another friend, who puts so much work into running their own small business, is realizing the energy they’re pouring in is not resulting in a sustainable existence. Yet another friend, who seemed to have achieved the whole perfect job/house/marriage/dog combo, felt inadequate for having trouble conceiving.

So what if you’re not reaching the level of success you think you should have by now? Does yearning for more keep you moving forward, or just make you feel shitty? When do you abandon ambition? As my friend Amil Niazi recently commented on the Sheryl Sandberg concept of “leaning in”, when can we just give up and “lean out”?

What I’m realising is that what possibly makes the idea of abandoning success so difficult is that I, a single woman, don’t know what I’d replace it with. As 20-somethings unburdened with families to raise or households to maintain as earlier generations were, we were instead burdened by the freedom and expectation to become who we wanted as early as we could. And if we millennial women are not trying to live our most ambitiously fulfilling lives [on social media], do we even have an identity?!

If a woman chooses to forego ambition, there seems to be only one acceptable reason for that: motherhood. (She can have it all as well, but god forbid she have neither!) But I’m not sure I want that either, and so giving up success without starting a family means I will have to decide if I not only want to let myself but also society-at-large down.

Your 30s (ironically the decade that I’ve decided is about learning to not give a shit) seems to be the ultimate reality check; either you’ve already “made it”, or you need to embrace that you haven’t, probably aren’t going to, and are too damn tired to keep trying. Do we just need to give ourselves a break at this point? Re-evaluate our definition of success yet again, instead of abandoning it altogether? Maybe the better question is WHY I feel the need to measure my own success in the first place, when everyone’s definition is different anyways... someone’s definition might be having a baby and a white picket fence; mine should be managing to survive in New York without health insurance while self-employed.

Me, exemplifying the self-satisfaction that comes with writing about yourself on social media while simultaneously exhibiting how my apartment has been reorganized.

I was recently told by an older friend that your 40s is about learning to love yourself. So I guess I’ve got 4 more years of trying to “make it” before I can officially give up and force myself to be happy with (or at least acknowledge) what I’ve achieved thus far, and worry about nothing more. Looking forward to that menial office job and craft room in the sky!

Colophon sweater & socks: UNIQLO; toque: Army & Navy; sweatpants: Alternative Apparel; mug: some print-on-demand company; glasses: Steven Alan clearance; plants: IKEA & Home Depot; couchy thing & kitchen island: IKEA; stool: Target; status candle: Diptyque; filing cabinet: Walmart.com; wall poster: Grilli Type; everything nice: probably MoMA Design Store deep discount; caramel recipe: David Lebovitz; optional subtitle: “Or, How I Never Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Hustle”; most horrifying thing I remember from a dream last night: Kylie Jenner; most stupefying thing to waste time image searching: Kylie Jenner’s teenage face transformation; best thing to snog as the clock strikes midnight when home alone on NYE: duty-free booze

[berriestart--lilacsweet]

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Part 1.5

NEW CHAPTER!  

Regis and Evangeline get to know one another better as they travel. Eva reveals details about her past and how she longs for a family. Regis comforts her after she become bitter and takes her anger out on him. Adorable fluff and bonding.

AN: This take place while Regis and Eva are on the road. An inbetween bit. Instead of messying up what I already have posted by rearranging things I'll just put this here and it can serve as a flashback I guess. Anyways hope you all enjoy! I had alot of fun writing this one.

BY FIRELIGHT AND STARLIGHT

PART: 1.5

Evangeline and Regis rode hard and traveled fast, only stopping long enough to eat and get a few hours rest when need be. Every night, as more time past, they became better acquainted with one another. Regis spent a majority of the time finding various herbs and flowers then passed the night time hours sketching their likeness into a leather-bound journal. To pass the time during the day they would quiz one another on the medicinal properties of various plants. Occasionally, Evangeline would surprise Regis with unique uses of certain herbs or mushrooms and what roles they played in Witcher decoctions, potions and oils.

He sketched most evenings by the fire; twirling stems, leaves, and petals in his slender fingers. His renditions were impeccable; the empty space around his drawings were slowly, over time, filled in with his delicate scrawl.  

His herbaria included specimens of phytology (flora), mycology (Fungi), and phycology (Algae). He was particularly interested in ethnobotany (the study of flora and their individual uses according to the region’s people). His herbarium was divided into sections using standard taxonomy with binomial nomenclature (a standard system of identifying species of living things using two-part Latin names). He studied every specimen’s preferred ecology, and their anatomy; dutifully dissecting everything and drawing its likeness on the smooth paper in his book.  

Regis was very thorough with his work; ensuring that every page was legible and every spare section of space used as to what could aesthetically be allowed. The leather-bound journal was large; over three inches deep by sixteen inches tall and eleven inches wide. It took up the entirety of his lap while he worked.

One night in particular they were sitting around their campfire when Regis beckoned the Witcheress over.

“Tell me what you think.”

“About what?”  

“Come, come.” he motioned for her to take a seat beside him. He had his legs splayed out before him and his back to a moss-covered log. She gave him a puzzled look, hesitant to sit so close to the mysterious, yet interesting and attractive stranger. “I’d like you to look over these last few entries to ensure I haven't forgotten or omitted anything.”  

She nodded slowly, still contemplating whether or not she wanted to sit so near to him.  

“I don’t bite.” he jest, sensing her hesitation. She rolled her eyes and took a seat beside him. He let his arm rest behind her on the log and handed her the journal with his other hand. She settled the book into her lap and thumbed through its pages, lightly running her fingertips over the graphite lines.  

“These are beautiful. You’re a talented artist, Regis.” she mumbled as she continued to look over his work.  

He chuckled lightly. “Thank you. It’s... taken me a very long time to get his far.”  

“I couldn’t draw like this to save my life. But...” she ran her fingers over a drawing of a bleeding heart. “I used to paint watercolors... a very long time ago.”  

“Really now? Since when are witchers taught the fine arts?” he asked genuinely surprised.  

“... Before... I became a witcher... I was the daughter of a merchant. My father was rather wealthy; I was taught many things befit a proper lady... like painting.” Evangeline sighed, moving on to another drawing in his book.

“You were a merchant’s daughter, I never would have guessed that. What... If I may ask, happened for you to want to become a witcher?”

“That... is a very long story.” she sighed leaning back against the fallen tree with him.

“I don’t' have any place to be.” he shrugged.

She sighed and glanced up at him. He gave her a soft smile of encouragement; something she was discovering was very endearing about him. “Well, this story begins a long time ago, longer than I care to admit, actually.” she sighed again. “When I was sixteen my mother passed away. My father had a hard time coping with her death. So, we decided to travel for a while; go to some distant lands and bring back wonderous things to sell. So, we did, only on our return journey our caravan contracted a mysterious illness. One by one our party fell ill and died... My father and I were the only ones to survive. We were traveling thought the upper range of the blue mountains... Winter came early that year. We wandered thought the wilderness for weeks, abandoning our possessions and treasures along the way.  Meanwhile, my father contracted the illness... Finally, we came across a small path. It was hard to track but I managed it somehow; it led to the Witcher keep, Kaer Morhen.”

She sighed again and brushed hair from her face. She felt his gaze on her, so she avoided him staring down at the pages of his herberia instead of making eye contact.

“That's when I met the Witchers: Geralt and Vesemir; I'm sure you’ve heard tale of them. They were kind enough to help me with my father... They convinced the others to take us in. My father got worse though, there was nothing to do. He didn’t last the first week... I was alone, the only woman in a strong hold of about a hundred men. The elders wanted to toss me out, but Vesemir convinced them to let me stay until spring when they could escort me to Novigrad. So, I pitched in to earn my keep; cooked cleaned, did the laundry... It kept me busy but... I couldn’t resist the library.” she smiled at the memory. “I read a lot. Vesemir brought me new books often. I kept to myself, but still managed to draw the attention of some...” she sighed and shrugged. She felt Regis’ eyes boring into her, she grimaced and kept ignoring him, not wanting him to see her face as she spoke the rest of her tale.

“He tried to force himself on me, luckily for me though, Geralt was paying attention as well. He saved me. And offered to teach me how to defend myself. The next few months I learned all I could. I trained with Geralt as often as we could.” She chuckled before continuing. “He said I had a natural aptitude...” she swallowed hard before recommencing her story. “And he taught me fighting techniques only witchers use. One day, while training by the lake, we were attacked by a kraken. I... My body was broken.” She looked down at the palms of her hands and flexed them as she sighed. “Luckily, again, we were being watched. Vesemir and some of the trainees counter attacked and Geralt swam out and killed the creature; a few were injured in the battle, but … I was dying. Geralt and Vesemir decided they would put me through the trials of the grasses in an attempt to save my life. The Elders refused, but somehow Geralt convinced them, he’s rather good at that I suppose.” she laughed with a crooked grin. “He told them it’s what I would have wanted and they gave in. Surprisingly it worked. I lived, it affected me slightly different that the others.” she twirled her hair in her fingers as she spoke. “And... that's how I became... this.” she shrugged with a sigh.

Regis wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “I had no idea you’d been through so much, Dear. You’re certainly the strongest woman I've her had the pleasure to have known... Thank you for sharing your life with me. I... I’ve a newfound respect for you.”  

She shook her head against his chest. “Doesn’t change anything. Still me.”

“Well, yes, but most people couldn’t even imagine going thought what you have. Let alone live through it. And, well, you’re one of the most famous witchers of our time. I’d day you adapted well.”

“I had to... I’ll admit it was hard at first... I had issues accepting the changes to my body... and lifestyle, but I was thankful to even be alive... I had to be.”  

Regis nodded and continued to hold her, running his hand through her hair. She let him. It was nice to have someone who wanted to listen to her; someone who held her as though they cared.  

“I think the hardest thing... Is growing older and knowing what all I missed out on... A family... Never being able to bare a child still hurts... Even after all the training and mutations... It's still a base instinct, want, need for a woman... Something that even witcher life couldn’t take away.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know it's not the same... But you could always settle down and adopt. There's plenty of orphans in need of loving families after the war.”

Evangeline shook her head and sat upright. “Who would want a barren wife? Let alone a monster slayer... a murderer... for a wife?” she scoffed. “No, that'll never happen.” she muttered trying to stand up only to be pulled back down by Regis.  

“You might be surprised by what some men want, what some are open to, what some are willing understand and look past...” he said gazing into her eyes.

“Or men who feign those emotions and intentions only to use me as their mistress, because I can’t bare a child. I’ve been down that path before. I’m done trying to be normal Regis. Witchers aren’t meant to have families.” she said a bit harsher than she meant, pushing him away and rising to her feet.  

“That’s not true. Geralt has his family, surely you’ve heard of Ciri and Yennifer.”

She paused a moment. “Yes, I’ve heard of Geralt’s love of the sorceress Yennifer and their adoptive daughter, Crillia. Geralt’s situation is... unique. Beside women find witchers attractive; they’re mysterious and women can’t become pregnant from them. It’s the exact opposite of my situation. Men fear me. They fear those stronger than themselves, while most women welcome witchers to their beds... I’ve yet to find a man with similar intentions, normally they shun me, run me out as soon as the job’s done.”

“I assure you-”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Regis. I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.” she growled sliding into her bedroll, her back to him. “This is why I don’t keep company.”  

“But Eva-”

“Just drop it, Regis. Go to sleep, we still have a long journey ahead.” she sighed, angry with him for pressing the topic and angry with herself for even opening up to him.  

“You can go on to sleep...” he said flatly. “I’m going for a stroll. You’re welcome to join me if you wish.” he stated as he walked away into the woods. Evangeline grunted and pulled the blanket up further around her shoulders.  

“Suit yourself.” she grumbled. He shook his head and ran a hand though the hair at the base of his neck.

“Why do witchers have to be so damn stubborn?” he thought out loud as he disappeared into the darkness of the forest.  Eva tossed and turned cursing herself for opening up to him, then for being so harsh with him. She ground her teeth. The cold earth beneath her penetrated her body as she forced herself to lay there trying her best to calm herself. She adjusted herself, moving some missed twigs out from under her and settled back down. Some time went by as she waited for his return, internally hoping he would come back sooner rather than later, hoping that he wouldn’t stay cross with her.  

“Damnit.” she muttered climbing out of her bedroll. “I won't be able to sleep until I apologize to him. She muttered as she grabbed her swords and followed his tracks into the woods. She traveled about half a mile before she spotted him in a small clearing. He sat on a large tree trunk looking up into the night sky.  

“I wondered how long it would take you.” he said not taking his eyes off the starry sky. He motioned for her to sit beside him. She smiled slightly and sighed before taking the vacant space beside him. “Sometimes I forget how lovely my surroundings can be. It’s beneficial to get a new perspective at times.”  

Evangeline nodded and gazed up at the stars with her companion. The sky was pitch black but littered with millions of little white, blue and red tinted specks. She didn’t remember the last time she had stopped to take in the beauty of the constellations. She felt at ease beside him; her anger having subsided she accepted the simple happiness of just sharing this experience with him.

“Eva... I’m quite sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to upset you.”  he muttered, turning to face her, breaking the silence between them.

She shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for Regis. I’m the one who should be asking for your forgiveness. I over reacted.”  

He smiled softly down at her and wrapped his arm around her pulling her to his side again. “I shouldn’t have pushed the subject. I... I understand why you feel how you do... I’m not exactly welcome by most people either. It took you a while to warm up to me as well.”

“I’m sorry Regis. I’ve been an inconsiderate ass.” she said pulling away to look him in the eye as she apologized.

“I think we both are equally guilty. Call it even?” he asked. She nodded her head and allowed him to pull her to his chest again. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so kind to her. They sat there in silence simply enjoying one another’s company. Slowly he slipped his hand down to rest on her hip, she welcomed it.

“Regis?”

“Hmm?” he hummed lazily as his head rested atop hers.  

“Do you... Nevermind.”

“No, do I what?” he asked pulling back to look her in the face.

“I... I don’t know... Am I...” she shook her head and looked away suddenly afraid to ask her question; afraid of what his answer might be.

“I see.” he sighed pulling her back to him. He kissed the top of her head. “You don’t scare me.” he chuckled. “I think you're perfect the way you are. Don’t let any man make you feel otherwise.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. She took in his herby scent and hugged him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Dear.” he mumbled into her hair, as he ran his fingers through her long locks. They sat there in one another's arms for what felt like an eternity to Evangeline. She didn’t want to move from him, she wanted to stay wrapped in his strong arms entranced by his delightful scent until she fell asleep.  

“Come on.” he sighed stretching his arms above his head. “We’d best get a little sleep.” he said pulling her to her feet and walking back towards their camp. “Thank you for being open with me, about your life.” he said slipping his arm around her waist with a smirk and resting his head against hers. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll tell you more about myself...”

“I’d like that.” she replied with a smile. Turning her face up to his. He caressed her cheek with his fingertips as he tucked her hair behind her ear.  

“I would as well.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Goodnight Eva. Get some rest.”

[tenecity]

from haters to lovers; zhu zhengting

from haters to lovers—a series where nine percent and you have the cliche, typical love story

warning: mentions of gender discrimnation

sosososososososo after much procrastination, crying and cracking my head, i finally got someth to possibly hate abt zzt hell yes god

also! taking into consideration tt china is still a v much conservative society, gender discrimnation is everywhere and rlly, as of yet, cant b helped

so which is why, imagine ure a chinese woman you found it weird, almost distasteful that a boy would be in yr dance class

i mean, guys are suppose to be strong people, doing more physical stuff like wushu or smth, and then there’s this boy here, doing pointe and perfect turns

“zhu zhengting is here!!!! oml doesn’t he look like a fairy?” your best friend tugs your sleeve as she discreetly point to the said boy. you roll your eyes. youre tired of this whole rave about him. literally, the entire class fangirls abt him; and apparently, it is not just for his looks, for also for his dance

spsjssjnsnsbs hE IS SO ELEGANT

you wld nvr admit it, but ok i guess ure borderline jealous.

i mean, his lines r clean, force controlled in his movements, perfect timing for rushed movements and then he slows down with such grace that you will never have 

but its still irks you, that a boy should dance so softly and gracefully. doesn’t seem to sit well with your traditional thinking 

so anyway, sidenote! you suck at turns wowww so coincidental

and every lesson, you usually would stay back just to practice it and you always end up with bruises and what nots as you fall repeatedly, no one there to catch you when you fall 

somehow, zhengting stays back today as well, rehearsing his main role in the upcoming performance, “swan lake” 

and you can’t keep your eyes off his figure 

it is mesmerising, how he can convey emotions, feelings, an entire story, through mere movements of the arms and legs. you observe how his every move is calculated, strength justttt the right amount that it looks elegant instead of overly powerful. 

and then you stare at the mirror and you sigh. probably why you only got a minor role in the performance. 

shaking your head, trying to push all those nonsensical thoughts out of your brain, you continue trying to turn, but you just can’t find the balance

yixing: balance baLanCe bALANCE

once again, your arms aren’t fully stretched out and it creates an imbalance, causing you to once again, fall backwards, out of turn 

you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact

but it doesn’t come 

surprise surprise

eyelids fluttering open slowly, you realise just how close your are to zhengting, his ragged breath from his exhausting rehearsal fan across your face, inevitably making them the colour of cherries.

“you ok?” he softly asks, as he lowers you down.

“...yea im fine.” you mumble, head bowed.

“....do you need help with the turns?” 

“....”

“you know, you’re almost there. its just the part at the 180 degree mark, where you have to pull in your hands. your arms don’t always cross, or are pulled in too fast, which breaks your flow and speed and causes you to fall out of turn.” 

how does he know? bc he has been looking at you, dumbass

also i hve no idea how accurate this is i suck at body anatomy

you nod slowly. he makes sense. and its true, you always fall when you are just about to spin to the opposite side.

getting up, your arms are poised, ready to try again. 

andddd they become frigid as hands land on your middle, firm and supportive.

“look, its not even straight here. you need it to be 90 degrees here, before you can even start turning.” he adjusts you accordingly.

“im going to spin you slowly, and we try to perfect each section, ok?” 

he spins you slowly, your arms closing in in slow motion. he corrects you at certain parts, one hand leaving your waist as he repositions yr arm.

and now, ure facing him, head bowed as a flush colours your cheeks when u realise how close the two of u r. a slight movement will just allow yr lips to brush against his.

but of course his hand is steady as hell and he just turns you slowly and you face the other direction

which, makes ur stomach churn and disappointment flows thru u????

so skipskip next scene

its after class and ure packing up when u hear some commotion at the corridor

n u follow ur busybody classmates

u can barely see who is shouting bc u a cute shortie :)

but u recognise the voice

"NO i'm staying dad. this is what i want to do."

"No, no, no. teacher, im v sorry, but i will like to pull my son out of this dance class now. i will pay the rest of the fees, but he will not be performing that stupid recital-” 

“i am performing, dad.” the voice is calm and collected and you try to tiptoe, just barely catching sight of the brown locks

“no u r not. zhu zhengting, u r a boy, u cannot do this kind of girly things! it makes u look v 娘* do you know that? a disgrace, an utter disgrace!”

the voice rings as everyone falls silent, heads turning towards zhengting, waiting for his response to the harsh comment. 

“i will prove to you that there is nothing to be ashamed of.” he quietly says, bowing and turning his heel, head held high, with no sign of regret or disappointment 

as you watch the figure go, everything falls together like pieces of a puzzle

why he works so hard 

why when it already seems perfect enuf, he still practices, saying there is still space for improvement 

why he was so desperate to get the main role 

he wanted to b in the spotlight and give a flawless performance bc he wanted to prove to his father, that boys dont have to b restrained to a singular activity and stereotype. they can do whatever they want, so long as they like it 

guilt washes over u as u watch his father storm after his son, realising that this man is a reflection of you

new found respect is the word u will use on zhengting. 

everyone applauds him. an art form shld never be restricted to a gender.

ur heart opens up to him more, and admiration for him blooms as u watch him place high expectations on himself, doing a particular move over and over again, even tho in your eyes, it alr seems perfect enuf

just like how he is to you; perfect and flawless

its addicting to watch him. his pale arms, his clean movements, his strong legs, his silky brown locks, the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about dance, the way the edges crinkle when he laughs, the way he is so bubbly about everything.

and he starts to take notice of you too, helping you to readjust properly, telling you tricks and tips on how to keep perfect balance, how to put the correct about of strength into a movement. 

for the next few weeks, you end up gg hme later than usual, staying bck with more than an hour just to spend time with him, and not gg to lie, you r falling for him 

but... you kinda don’t rlly knw i mean 

he’s nice to everyone

what makes you so special?

anywayyyyyyy

FINALLY RECITAL DAY WOOHOO

everyone’s pretty hyped about it

but u knw the main dancers will be extremely nervous and u decide to go find zhengting in his dressing room, just to give him assurance, if he needs any.

“zhengting?”

“hmmm?” he says (???) as he turns around and oMLORD JESUS CHRIST IS HE A BEAUT

the eyeshadow makes him look sultry, the foundation emphasising how his skin is flawless and hydrated, his eyebrows strong and dark, a true prince indeed

he snaps his fingers, pulling u out of yr trance. “did you want to say anything?” u hear a hint of hope and u almost smirk 

“uh...you look good? and good luck.” you mumble, tripping over your words, unused to a god-like creature looking at u with such intensity in his dark eyes

“what did you say?” he teases, cheekiness flowing through his words

“i said,” you clear your throat. “you look good and good luck for your performance

how you wish to wipe that smirk off that face, if not for the fact that u secretly find it EXTREMELY HOT and your cheeks are flaring red at the sight of it.

“if u want to wish me good luck,” he leans forward. flirtatious. “how about a kiss on the cheek?” 

you roll your eyes and try to push him away but he is quick to grab your hands and stop them midway, intertwining your cold, clammy ones with his own.

“please?” 

“fine,” you try to sound nonchalant but the nervousness is so evident that u see the smirk creeping up his face again.

lips barely brush over the smooth skin and you pull away, blood surging upwards into the blood vessels of your face.

“bye,” you want nothing more than to dig a hole and hide your burning face 

“see you afterwards?” 

but u’ve already rushed out and he chuckles to himself, warmth oozing thru his being, and his cheeks flush as he thinks about the kiss you give him. 

he will definitely have to find you later to give you a proper one ;)

you guys wld b cute buBS UWU

my endings suck dbhasdjbfhjdbkjf