#I used oranges and yellows as bases like oh! I could make highlights with these! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deathianartworks · 1 year ago

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Do you have any coloring tips? I'm trying to get better at coloring but it's hard :/ everything looks so out of place and I lose motivation fast

Of course!

By no means am I an expert on this (I still forget to choose a light source 90% of the time) but here's a few things that I do when I'm colouring something digitally. Remember these are all individual to the way I make art so they may not all be applicable to yours and are simply me explaining how I do colours, not a tutorial for all colouring styles.

Buckle up folks, this one's a long one (sorry in advance!!)

Here goes nothing.

Losing motivation is totally normal and okay, take a break if you need it, maybe send it to some friends for some hyping up (art servers full of other artists are great for this!). Colours ain't gonna look perfect first time you try to do them, I never put down a colour that I like first time, it takes some messing around and asking friends for me to get them down.

So don't feel pressured to get them perfect in the beginning, that rarely happens!

Here's a mini explanation of how I do my colours, hope it will help a little :)

1) GET THOSE BASE COLOURS IN!!

It doesn't matter if they're not exactly what you're going for rn, go with roughly the colour you want and start there! Personally, I do big blotches of colour just to get something down on the page as this helps me want to actually finish it. Then you clean up those edges so they're all in their correct spaces.

I've found that working on a neutral mid-tine grey background helps you see the colours best at the start so all of my 'paper' starts off grey when working digitally.

Here's the example I'm going to be using (this is from the ghost files fanart I'm working on)

2) ADJUST THOSE COLOURS!!

So, now you've got those colours down, you can adjust them to be roughly how you want them to look. If you're unsure on what colours look best together, you can either take some time out, find some YouTube channels and learn a little about colour theory... OR you could grab some colour pallettes from online and have a play around with gradient maps or simply placing the colours in yourself. There's no shame in using resources like those, that's literally what they're there for.

I didn't need to do this on this drawing as I was happy with the colour selection. This is because I chose the background colour and simply adjusted the hue and saturation slightly until I got the colours I wanted. This is my general technique for choosing colours as my work tends to be fairly similarly coloured (browns, oranges, reds, yellows with hints of purple)

3) ✨SHADING✨

Right, well done! You've got your base colours in.

...but oh god, what now?? They look so flat and lifeless, what shall you do?!

This, my friend, is where shading comes in. It's both a way of telling the viewers where the light and shadows are, can change the mood of the drawing, can change what we feel about a character or it can just look real pretty but shading and lighting does all sorts of fun things to a drawing.

If your style is more simple and doesn't require shading/has minimal shading: apply this tip to any shading you do have and don't forget the importance of rim lighting in simpler styles.

For shading both skin and clothes, I use the original colour, shift it down into a darker shade and on the colour wheel I shift it down too (eg. shading green with blue, red with purple) sometimes you can shift that even further to create similar shading to the one above, where I shaded orange/brown with pinks/purple's.

The principle is the same with highlights but like,,, opposite. Shift everything up, shade browns with yellows, blues with greens, etc.

SIDENOTE ON HOW I COLOUR SKIN:

Okay so, these next two paragraphs are based entirely from what I've learnt during studies and aren't rules, just simply how I do it.

For lighter skin tones, I tend to start from one of the lightest colours and shade darker, like you would if you were working with something like watercolours. This allows you to build up shadows in areas of darkness. Once you've done the shadows, you can then go in and add highlights and lighter sections where necessary.

For darker skin tones, I tend to start at one of the darkest values, as dark skin tends to reflect light differently to light skin. Then I add lighter shades in sections that the light would reflect. You can add shadows too, I tend to add them if the drawing still feels flat after doing the highlights.

3) OVERLAY + MULTIPLY LAYERS ARE YOUR BEST FRIEND

These things are literally lifesavers for me, I love an overlay layer.

I can't really explain what they actually do so I'm not even gonna try, just play around with them. But using a purple/blue multiply layer and erasing where the light hits, that makes the illusion of full shading without the same effort of painting in the shades.

Overlay layers are 100% a 'fuck around and find out' resource, I tend to use red and pink overlay layers as my colours tend to be more desaturated and this helps with brightening them up. However they can also be used to change the genre/mood of the drawing, like this:

These two drawings are the exact same. There's no difference between them other than an overlay gradient map layer in green or sepia. (These gradient maps are built into clip studio paint, I'm not sure about other programs)

But the whole vibe is completely different. So yeah, fuck around with different colour schemes and overlay layers (the bi flag colours are a great choice for experimenting with overlays as the colours are naturally very harmonious so maybe start there.)

You can also try a noise later for a bit of texture, it's my go-to fix it for any drawing ngl

Uhhhhh, yeah. That was lengthier than I expected, hope it helps even in the slightest. As I said at the top, I am by no means an expert and am still figuring things out myself, so just fuck around and find out.

Bye now!

#artists on tumblr #art #artwork #digital artist #fanart #ghost files #art tutorial #colouring #art tips #deathian answers #digital painting #digital art #colour tutorial

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thecoloroute · 1 year ago

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Art Deep Dive: Ines J.

Words cannot truly express how I feel about this artist! but i will try.

I discovered Ines J. on instagram where they go by the handle @a.creature (ive linked her direct instagram to this @ so it will not take you to a tumblr account of theirs, not sure if they have one but i will check and edit this after typing everything up if so!).

From what i've gathered, Ines is a very multifaceted artist that incorporates their work into a variety of mediums and trinkets. Im going to highlight some of the recent works of theirs that I'm absolutely obsessed with. to be honest, they're all fantastic though so i would definitely recommend checking their page out and getting lost in a surrealist paradise of wonky doodles.

my thoughts on the pieces are going to be in bullet form so bear with me.

bodies, demons, faces, morphed creatures, morphed selves

stickers, commercial, industrialized, contrasting organic lines

organic shapes resembling body parts, intestines

bright color unnatural to regular body tones, for emphasis? (or personal taste which is what id do for color choice)

the beautiful inclusions of black imagery, woman on top left is my favorite she looks so haunted and her hair reminds me of myself on a rough morning

"on & on" speaks to works theme of chaos and continuing on despite it, like me during those said mornings

unraveling in a sense

god! beautiful color choices just IMMACULATE

THE FACE ON THE LEFT? THE CONTRAST OF THE BLUE WITH THE ORange??? Ines!!!!!!!!!!!!!! great job

different features, organic material

text adds to juxtaposition of natural vs. unnatural which is a common theme

Wednesdays do feel yellow. sometimes being human is about being alive to hear/see observations like this

i am guilty of throwing checker patterns in lots of spots on my art, love the teal checker pantsuit here it fuels my soul

red, anger, angst, sex, sexuality

large dominant figure is not happy, and contrasts to the abundance of color around, could signify a void or lack of emotion, creativity, maybe even happiness

this drawing reminds me of how it feels to scroll through instagram on a bad mental health day while it seems like everyone else is living their best lives while i occasionally rot

reminds me of something similar i said to the man i currently am infatuated with, minus the airplane part

"oh what can you do!" this is how i feel about him lol. the black and lime green image of the two people also reminds me of him

i wonder if this piece is based on a lover... probably

tears, unfinished boxes, distance that is most likely unwanted, lack of memory

when those things fade we will do our best to capture things creatively like this in art as a shrine for the emotions we feel and have felt but ultimately have to let go of

drawings like this break my mf heart (cause they remind me of when i was mf heartbroken lol)

and ykno what yes to the green head on top right corner, everyone has their own interpretation but that makes me think ya love can actually make you lovesick and that is how id mentally draw myself with the green worm sliming out and all bc sometimes thats how it feels out here

more tears i see:(

one of my favorites that i've seen so far honestly?

this image reminds me of myself and im sure a lot of women feel the same

colorful blobs at the top, bubbles of experiences, memories that have passed, things that make you who you are, and the shapes get more specific and thought out in terms of painted construction as you near the woman (red star, blue circle, black teardrop, etc).

delicate nature of the wispy but sharp surroundings behind her, like a girly, cosmic barbed wire (luv it)

pink and overall colors mentioned before contrasts with the deep blue and black used to illustrate her, somber colors and face expression, head down

the vibrant red flower seems to be the focal point, most vivid spot in terms of color

to me symbolizes a feminine rage because it is so big, red and bright that it is something which naturally demands to be seen

her demeanor is the exact opposite, like a woman in society trying not to seem out of line even though she has every right to be upset

cultivating the flower, knowing when to let certain emotions bloom?

possibly being tired from not being able to let certain emotions bloom

okay thats all for tonight everybody. i know ive been saying that i'd do this for a while but adult life can get so hectic. Also i wanted to wait till i found someone i really enjoyed so i wouldnt get writers block halfway through this blog post. here's to ines j. for being a super dope artist!

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borkthemork · 3 years ago

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Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended.

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #Finally it's its own standalone fic #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #I mainly just placed this stuff in the drabbles comp but I loved this one too much that I had to clean it up #I FORGOT TO PUT THE MARGINS

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bohemianrhvps · 4 years ago

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Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #harry potter imagine #hermione granger #hogwarts #ron weasley #draco malfoy #george and fred #fred weasley #fred and george #the weasleys #the weasleys twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #fanfiction

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sweetsakusa · 4 years ago

Text

Coming Home At Twilight

A lil Nanami brain rot (more like a rant)

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble, slice of life

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k words

“I’m home,” you call to no one in particular. You are met with the eerie silence of your home, the air conditioner humming softly in the background as a natural ambient sound to fall asleep. You slip on a pair of house slippers, the soft padding breaking the serenity of the home.

You walk into the living room and the sight of Kento sleeping soundly on the leather couch with a book open on his chest and his glasses still resting on his nose appears before you. It is a wonderful sight to see him so relaxed and casual; the light just barely peeking through the twilight, ending the night puts you into tranquility. Smiling, you set down your work bag and tiptoe closer.

His shirt still tucked, but ruffled from turning in his sleep, his tie thrown half-hazardly on the one of the cushions and he still looked as handsome as ever. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones, his defined jaw, the slope of his nose, his normally flawlessly styled hair now hanging in small wisps on his forehead and seeing all of it, there was no doubt in your mind that he was made by the gods themselves.

His eyebrows were no longer pinched together and his lips were relaxed, not the typical thin line of subtle annoyance that could quickly curl into irritability. In other words, he was the epitome of effortlessly good-looking.

You gently pry off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table. He doesn’t flinch nor open his eyes. He is typically a light sleeper, constantly hyper aware in his sleep. He gives no sign of waking up.

He must’ve had a long day at work last night.

You glance at the clock on the coffee table, a frown growing. It is still 4:56 in the morning. A part of you wished to not wake him up, give him some well deserved rest, but concern rose in your chest at the thought he might be overworking himself. You set your hand on his, tracing the veins that protruded from his knuckles.

You lean over and place your lips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that fell on his face. When your eyes fall onto his face again, you are met with pools of a gentle blue sea that is his eyes. You kiss his forehead again and his eyes flutter closed.

“Love, you should be sleeping on the bed instead of the couch,” you mutter against his hairline.

He sighs exhaustedly, running a tired hand through his hair before meeting your gaze, bored orphic eyes sucking the light out of the room. You just knew that he was sleeping on the couch to wait for you to come home as much as he would hate to admit it. You simply knew him too well.

You continue to stroke his cheek as if holding the finest china, your thumb caressing the skin just underneath his eye bags that were always there, making him look much more older and mature for his age. “How long have you been laying here?”

His eyes soften just a little from your touch and he shuffles to make himself more comfortable, resting his head against his forearm. “I was reading a book and then I fell asleep.” Then it must have been a couple hours, you concluded.

You knit your eyebrows together. “You haven’t been overworking yourself, have you?”

He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t,” he says with nonchalant honesty. Nanami knows how you complain when he pushes himself too much, but his job was still demanding. His work ethic is certainly admirable.

Your hand instinctively moves to his chest, just above his stomach, patting it soothingly. “You should get some more rest. I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“No. Stay here.”

Your eyebrows knit together, causing a wrinkle on your nose and forehead. “No?” His request was strange to say the least. He never did anything out of the necessary and frankly, it was like that for most of your relationship. Sure, there were some moments of shared affection, but even then, Nanami was a man who liked to keep to himself.

Swinging his legs over the edge and pulling you up, he wraps his arms around your waist and begins to sway back and forth as if to balter to a silent tune, his forehead leaning against yours and his breath tickling your nose.

Your body stiffens in surprise. He’s not normally like this.

You pull away just enough to scan his face for anything strange. He doesn’t look any different. You place the back of your hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature.

Kento’s eyebrows furrow in slight irritation and the peaceful look of bliss flickers away at the cool touch of your hand. “What are you doing?”

You frown. “Are you sick, Kento? It’s not typical of you to act like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh,” is your only response as you give up the energy to explain his strange behavior. Hesitantly, you relax into his embrace and he pulls you flush against his body as your arms drape over his shoulders. You exhale the subtle cologne of wood and maple on his shoulder, releasing the mountain of stress that had accumulated on your shoulders throughout the last few weeks.

“You looked a little stressed,” he says eventually, answering your question from earlier. “Maybe this might alleviate it,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, sending electricity down to your toes. His reassuring words and the way his tongue adds stress to his “t’s” warms the base of your stomach and causes butterflies to erupt.

You sigh heavily with content and he hums in response. It did help lessen the tempestuous strain in your mind. Work was a pain and becoming a slight burden, but Kento had no problem soothing it all away with soft kisses and passionate embraces.

You felt like your soul were floating of pure bliss, ascending away from Earth and into the heavens all while Kento kept you grounded and held on, refusing to let go as if you were his lifeline and truth was, you probably were his lifeline and he was yours.

Your hand trails up to his hair, combing through his locks that tickled your palms. He releases a small sigh, melting in your touch and squeezes you just a little bit tighter like he was scared an outside force would snatch you away.

It would have been awkward if it wasn’t for the ill-coated affection. And though it was quiet, there weren't any words needed to be exchanged as if a turn of phrase would disrupt the comfortable silence the two of you created.

You slowly blink away the sleep, but to no avail, you squint at the sun peeking through the horizon, it’s rays beam into the penthouse suite apartment.

“The sky looks beautiful,” you mumble into his shirt, sleep threatening you into oblivion.

“Mhmmm,” he hums agreeingly into your hair, his hands running along the valley of your spine, up and down before settling on your lower back. He cracks his eyes open, also slowly succumbing to exhaustion due to lack of sleep. He peers down to see you in all your angelic beauty. The sun highlights the plains of your face, your cheeks illuminating golden in the early morning sun. You looked ethereal. Serendipity must have been on his side when he first met you.

He is aware that the sunrise is beautiful, reds, oranges, pinks, yellows, and blues smeared across the sky as the sun slowly creeps up like every cliché painting, but you are even more divine and luminous than the star itself so he stares at you with an adoration that is only meant for you.

You crane your head, meeting his soft gaze and breaking his scrutiny. You stare intently at his vivid blue hues, as blue as the sky, the dawn making his eyes gleam. Perhaps that’s why you feel like floating when he is holding you close to him. Maybe that’s why you feel like you’re in heaven when you’re his arms, but also grounded at the same time because he is like heaven on earth.

Wow.

Your eyelids feel heavy as you slowly close them, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you raise yourself on your toes towards him. He meets you halfway and closes the space, giving you a few kisses before pulling away, satisfied.

You mumble a quick, “I love you,” against the corner of his lips before pecking his cheek and leaning against his chest once again as he ever so slightly sways back and forth, as if rocking you to sleep.

“Love you too.” He no longer shies away from those words like he used to, weary of the lifelong commitment those words brought. He reaches for your hand, the certain finger containing a gold wedding ring. He places his lips on the cool metal, a wordless reminder of his infinite love, sealed by a simple promise.

“Let’s go to bed,” he mutters against the crown of your head and you let out a soft sigh. His arm still wrapped around your waist, he guides you into your shared bedroom.

You sink into the mattress, groaning at the relief that flooded through your body. Kento crawls next to you, his calloused hands never leaving your waist.

“Ken,” you say, voice groggy and practically on the verge of passing out. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I’m taking a day off,” he says simply. “You must be exhausted. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for breakfast.”

You scoff softly into the silk pillowcase. “As if,” and with that you fell asleep to his fingers lingering aimlessly on your clothed stomach.

Nanami contemplated if it was a good idea to wait for you to come home and wake up in the wee hours of the morning only for him to fall asleep on the couch and you had to pulled him out of sleep. Maybe it didn’t go as planned, but it sure felt nice when the two of you watched the sunrise together before going back to bed.

He whispers another ‘love you’ into the back of your neck before letting sleep cast its spell. Though he falls into a deep dreamless slumber, he feels light and airy like floating among the clouds.

Yeah, you definitely made him feel like he had entered heaven and it never gets old.

#jujustu kaisen #jjk #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami x reader #jjk fluff #drabble #i am very touch and love deprived #kento x reader

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ink-the-artist · 4 years ago

Note

Its a lot harder to do with traditional art but I'd love to see progress shots of your colored pencil stuff its so neat

I wanted to wait until I had progress shots to show before answering this and I took some as soon as I was starting a new colored pencil illustration, which was the Pepto Bismol one I just posted. Gonna put a keep reading cut here bc this’ll probably be a bit of a long post lol.

I don’t have any kind of strict process I always follow, I just do whatever works best for each specific drawing, so I kind of just took a pic whenever I finished anything that felt like it could be it’s own “step.” Also keep in mind I worked on this during different days, different times of day, and different locations, so the lighting will be pretty different throughout the pics here which will affect how the colors look and the overall quality of the photos, I did the best I could with the changing lighting.

First step is the graphite sketch. Since I’m focusing on the colored pencil part of the process I didn’t document the process of sketching, just the final outcome

I go over the sketch with a colored pencil, I usually use a lighter color so that the lines you’ll see in the next step are lighter and not going to be noticeable when the drawing is all done, and I’ll go with a color that would be found in the illustration so that it doesn’t look unnatural wherever it may show through (I chose pink because, Pepto Bismol)

then I go over the whole thing with an eraser, only the graphite erases completely while the colored pencil stays, even though it dulls a bit. This is so I can still have a sort of outline to color in without having to worry about graphite mixing with the lighter color pencil colors and muddying everything up (it also just cleans up the sketch a lot which makes everything easier to work with)

then I start putting some of the colors down while also adding some basic detail that I’ll color and shade along later. I also go over the lines again just to make sure everything is shaped correctly, but I’m using the base colors of whatever the object is because I don’t actually want things to have outlines later on

I’m kind of mapping out the colors now as well as shadows

(also I finally found a use for this super bright neon pink colored pencil I have lol)

I’m basically just continuously layering on more color and detail, making sure to go light to dark. I mostly work on everything evenly rather than meticulously finishing one area after another but I was a bit more meticulous with the pepto bismol tablets just because they were the most detailed part of the illustration

I pretty much color the borzoi last because it’s the one white thing in this image and I want it to sort of “reflect” all the colors that will be around it and you can see I’m still adding new colors to the background as I go along

adding some green, Im basically trying to get a black without using black by layering opposing (is that the right word?) colors over each other, it makes it so that the black still looks like a natural part of the image because it’s made up of the colors in it, and it gradients toward the foreground better. I’m also doing the same for the nose and lips of the borzoi

finally putting some more color down on the borzoi, both giving it a base color and making the shading more defined

added the pepto splash before I layer any more color on the background. Also in just about every step here I’m continuously touching up the pepto bismol tablets, maybe a bit too obsessively

adding more colors from the background to the borzoi as well as shading it some more

adding more green (and some dark blue) to the background and floor to darken it some more, and again to the borzoi

I blend some of the lighter areas with orange-yellow, dunno if this is a real technique I just like the kind of glow effect it has and I do it a lot in my drawings (basically layering light colors over dark ones and sort of pressing harder with the strokes to blend/smooth everything together while giving it an almost glowing undertone of that light color)

still layering colors to darken everything up

Only at the very end I use a white colored pencil, I haven’t used it at all so far. I give the borzoi it’s fur texture + its whiskers, basically using the same method as earlier when I blended the yellow into darker colors by pressing harder with the strokes, here the strokes are just fur-shaped. I also add some highlights to the metal bowls, the splash of pepto bismol, and the nose and mouth of the borzoi with white colored pencil and a tiiiiny bit of white gel pen (a really tiny bit, basically a few little dots here and there)

oh and I added the “Pepto Bismol” writing to the pepto bismol tablets (or as close to writing as I could get)

also at some point in this step a mysterious black line appeared on the drawing that I couldn’t get rid of :( but its ok I just removed it in photoshop later lol

then I just take as good a pic as I can and touch it up in photoshop, this is for getting rid of flaws like that weird black line as well as to make the photo resemble what the drawing looks like irl as closely as possible, I’ll usually have the drawing next to me so I can reference it while editing the photo to make sure it looks like the real thing.

also in this step I usually crop the image both to hide the messy edges and to give it a better composition.

you can see how different all these pics look from each other (in terms of lighting and quality) let alone from the final piece, which is why the editing step is important lol

hope this is helpful!

#art help #color pencil #sweetenby

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dimensionwriter · 4 years ago

Text

100 Days

Part 2

Part One

M! Alien x GN! Reader

Warning: Innuendos, mention of torture

Word Count: 2519

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Remember to LIKE, COMMENT, and REBLOG, please. I love to see the comments on my stories.

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The air was so cold and dry in the room. The room was dead silent except for the low pitch buzz emanating from the computer. This room seemed unwelcoming to any person who dared to enter; However, you barely noticed as you stared at your creature in the giant container.

His form was still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Two black arms wrapped around his thin grey torso. The second and third set was just lightly floating in the liquid as he continued to sleep. A giant smooth tail that laid on top of his first set of arms, allowing his head to lay against it. His grey skin was a lot more muted while slumbering, it seems. A glance over would allow you to think that everything was the same as you left it.

However, there was something new. On his neck were these tiny slits that were moving with his chest. It was unknown to you that the creature contained gills. It was theorized that the creature breathed through the tiny slits sitting below his eyes. Maybe it had to do with something about him being a shift shaper. Was the creature changing his respiratory system while sleeping?

Walking over to the computer, you open the coding program. You couldn’t help how quickly you put in the stop coding for the sleeping medicine. It has been two days since you last saw him due to the weekend and you were just itching to learn more about this fascinating creature.

You fixed your lab coat and walked to the front of the container. Gosh, it felt so nice to do it. You are so used to seeing him floating in the container unconscious that now that you get a chance to interact with him, it was thrilling.

His tail slowly slid off his arms as he shifted in his sleep. He seems to be snuggling into the glass. So he enjoys sleeping. How does his species do their sleeping arrangement? Is it more of a hibernation or daily occurrence?

“...” He let a small grumble as his eyes fluttered open. You were expecting to see a pair of pitch black eyes, but instead they looked quite humanish. In fact, they looked really familiar. Wait a minute.

“Morning, Shark,” you spoke slowly. He looked at you groggily before turning his head around. You could see the confusion on his face. You’ve heard from coworkers that this sometimes happens. “How do you feel, Shark?”

“I had this dream where this beautiful angel was in front of me,” he grumbled as he stretched his arms out in every direction. It was kind of unique the way he had to contort his body in order for his six arms to get that stretch. “And I open my eyes and they’re still there.”

“You dreamed about me so much that you decided to wear my eyes,” you teased. It was odd seeing an alien with such human eyes. So far, most of the aliens usually have odd shaped eyes or none at all. But you guess with Shark, you can’t put him under the category for normal aliens.

“I-what!” His top arm went to his face and rubbed his eyes harshly. Guess he didn’t even notice that he didn’t have his normal eyes. You should document that and see if that’s a constant when he wakes up. “When I said I wanted you on my body, I didn’t mean this.”

Your movement towards the computer stopped as you processed what he said. Did he mean- that’s more of a human phrase- can he even? Your brain is becoming overwhelmed as you unpacked the single sentence. How does he even know that type of language?

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to fluster you like that, even though you look so cute. I’ll tone it down for you,” he explained. He swam up to the top of the tank where he folded his top arms on top of it. A giant smirk was on his face revealing that he most likely didn’t regret his comment.

“You seem to have quite the understatement on the human’s culture.” He manages to talk in perfect English while also using phrases that only people integrated in the culture could understand. Has he been hiding within the humans for a while?

His tail swishing slowly in the liquid made him appear relaxed in his environment. That’s a good sign for most specimens to have. If his behavior continues on this path, he might be able to leave the container and you can gain more data on him that doesn’t involve verbal communication.

“I got it by abducting a human and strapping them to a lab table to eat their brains. I learn the different waves of human’s vocals by their screams of pain. Quite the range, I may say,” he spoke with a glint in his eye.

Cold sweat dripped down your back as you froze in front of the computer. This is the first time you have felt fear in a while. Just the thought that a few feet away from you is a killer and the only thing stopping you is a glass container that he has proven many times to be able to lift himself over, is enough to make your stomach lurch.

You won’t lie and say it’s uncommon to contain an alien that has kidnapped humans or killed them in the search of science. But, they never understood what they did was wrong. However, Experiment 337 has shown signs of understanding human’s speech, therefore he should have an understanding of the human moral. Does he just not care?

“Sweetheart, you look so adorable when you scrunch your face up from overthinking. But to calm your nerves, I was joking,” he sang out. He released his hold on the top of the container and floated down. His grayish blue muscular legs began to lightly move causing him to swim a little. He contains mobility in liquid, noted.

“You got nothing to worry about. The only person I want to strap down and have screaming is you.” His black eyes looked at you through the liquid and gave a swift wink. Heat started crawling up your neck to your face.

“Didn't moments ago you said you would ‘tone it down’?” You asked, turning to the computer to appear busy. There’s pros and cons to having an alien that can speak english and have them understand some phrases. Although, you didn’t think being flirted with or having a dirty mind would be one.

“Oh that was tone downed. What I wanted to say was I would love to have you lying underneath me with your legs spread as I-” You cut him out with a loud screech. He jumped before laughing at you.

“Okay, my apologies for complaining. I don’t mind sticking to the previous level,” you squeaked out, rubbing your cheeks to get them to calm down. Do you even put this down in the notes? How would you word that your alien has a libido?

You pulled up the notes on the computer and stared at it for a while. Then just typed it “Understands the human language, Appears to be in search of mate.” That’s the best you can do at the moment.

“I’ll give you a break. I know so much about the humans because you have all of it in the open. Stacks and stacks of books on languages, anatomy, how you interact, ways of thinking,history, etc. Then there’s also this system humans have called ‘The Internet’ where I can interact with humans in multiple ways without having to show my face. It was great practice,” he explained, rolling his top left wrist. His bottom set of arms were pushing against the base of the container to bounce through the water.

You were quick to write down what he was saying and highlight how he used the internet to communicate with humans. You never heard of an alien using Earth’s own resources to learn more about it. How many are out there that are using these resources at this very moment? How many people online are actually humans?

“So, have you just been studying just human?” You asked, turning toward him. He flipped himself around to sit on the base of the container. His legs folded on top of each other and surprisingly the muscles seem to fit together to allow for a smooth surface.

“Nah, not really. The animals on this planet are pretty cool,” he grumbled. His top right arm went to his chin slightly as if he was thinking for a moment. “Yeah, my favorite animal is the… the um… I forgot what you call it. Just look.”

Suddenly, a giant black smoke cloud exploded from Shark’s skin, covering all the liquid in the water. You couldn’t see a thing inside. The now black liquid only showed your worried and terrified expressions. Who knows what this specimen has in store?

“Tadaaa,” he yelled, somewhere in the black liquid. You moved around the container as you tried to see what he was and where he was. The blackness seems to be dissipating the longer you stared at it. However, even that wasn’t enough to see him.

“I can’t see you, Shark.” You were trying to call out to him, but he didn’t seem to be appearing. The liquid at this point was a murky grey that allowed you to see through with it. But the container was empty. Did he escape?

Oh gosh, what’s the protocol for an escaped experiment? You need to press the alarm button. No, you need to lock down the room so he can’t leave. Which one goes first?

“Human, babbbbeeeee,” a tiny voice called out to you. You looked around the container for anything. Grey, grey, grey, orange, grey, grey… wait.

In the upper corner, there was a tiny fish with shimmering orange and yellow scales all over. Tiny black eyes stared sideways at you. The fish seem happy to have your eyes on it because it started swimming around in circles.

“Shark? You can shrink to 1/50 of your height and 1/400 of your weight. How? That-that breaks all laws of physics,” you rambled in disbelief. He has too much mass for it all to just condense into a goldfish. He would collapse into himself due to the density.

“Once again. Yeah, and you can’t,” his now squeaky voice teased from inside of the water. You were quick to press your face to the glass of the container. Shark swam over until he was right in front of your face. “It’s not that hard.”

“I have the coolest experiment in this place,” you whispered. His body wasn’t showing any signs of distress or struggle with swimming. The gills on the side of his neck showed that he was still breathing just fine, telling you that he could transform his lungs to fit his changed body.

“And I have the hottest scientist in the entire universe who I am going to make mines.” It felt so weird to be flirted with by a tiny goldfish that you couldn’t even take his comment seriously. You wouldn’t mind all his flirty statements if it was delivered by a cute little goldfish.

“Let me document this. And I got to check your vitals,” You mumbled to yourself. The vital cords were still attached to him, but seem to have shrunk to accommodate his new form.

You pulled up the vitals recorded to see everything had changed. The oxygen level had dropped significantly and so had his heart rate. His body temperature was so much lower that anyone reading this would think he temporarily died.

“Shark, you amazed me,” you mumbled, scrolling through the documentation. Now you need to go back to the previous day to see if his reading has changed when he shifted into you. From the looks of things, he understands the organ system of the organism that he shifts into.

“But I haven’t even taken you to dinner yet and you already tell me how good I am.” You turned back to the container to see he had transformed back into his usual self. His giant six palms were pressed against the glass closest to you as he stared at the computer screen.

“Just take the compliment,” you teased. You flipped to your notes and began to type in everything that has happened. Shark swam a little closer and squinted his beady black eyes. Guess he was reading what you were writing.

“Appears to be in search of a mate?” He read out with a tone of confusion. Once again, you were in a state of cold sweat as you realized what he read. It just happened, but you were so in science bliss of him breaking physics that you forgot about his earlier statement.

“Just an assumption...based on the way you speak,” you stuttered, avoiding his look. A deep laugh escaped out of him. His grey body swam up again, so he was peeking out the top of the container.

“Sweetie, did you not hear me earlier? I’m going to make you mine. You are my mate. Okay, darling,” he purred, sending a swift wink. There’s that warmth crawling up your neck. How do you respond to this in a formal way?

A buzz in your ear alerted you for an incoming call. You pressed the ear piece with your shoulder to answer it. “Hey, it’s lunch time. Meet in the section Sub 4B in 20 minutes.”

“Everytime you get on that ear piece, you leave. I might just take it away from you, so you will never leave me.” You let out a laugh as you pressed the ear piece again to end the call. Even though you are a scientist that works with experiments, that doesn’t mean all your time is with them. It happens outside, where data is collected and talked about.

“I’m sorry. But you’ll go to sleep again, so you won’t even notice time has passed.” You slide the reading off the screen of the computer and pull up the medicine supplier. The code for the sleeping medicine was quickly placed in.

A huge frown came onto Shark’s face as he watched the blue liquid coming from the computer and towards him. He instinctively swam to the bottom and sat down. His back was placed against the side glass with his tail wrapped around him. The top and bottom set of arms were crossed over his knees while the middle set just floated down.

“See you later, Shark,” you whispered. His calm even breathing was the only response you got back. Leaning towards the glass, you gave it a little kiss. It was something dumb you did when he was unconscious and had to leave him.

You discarded your lab jacket in the waste bin and grabbed your things. As you exited, you gave one last glance at Shark’s sleeping form with a happy smile. You were so grateful to have him here at work.

“97 days left.”

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Here it is. You guys asked for it and I provided it. I’m actually starting to really love writing Shark’s character. It’s different from the usual soft boy that I write. I like it. Anyway, remember to leave a LIKE and a COMMENT. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day.

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loudestcloud · 4 years ago

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Time for Luffy's fashion exam! Now, I'll be honest, I did skip an outfit because I decided I will be ending this whole thing with the Strawhat fashion show in Episode of Luffy. Also, sorry for the posting gap, I remembered I have other unfinished post sets. That being said, this is a very long one so let's do this!

Kid Luffy, Post-Enies Lobby & Fish-Man Island: I think it's super cute when Luffy has white t shirts with red based logos because it reminds me of the first picture. Makes him look baby plus, they can always be found in cute domestic EPs or fun, cute flashbacks. The shorts change over time and that's also kinda cute, a range of cuffs is a nice change up. It's nice to see the red contrast the blue shorts and the white is a nice color on him cos it contrast his hair!

Romance Dawn, Enies Lobby, Thriller Bark, Sabaody Archipelago, Amazon Lily, Marineford & last Dressrosa outfit: This look is the pre Luffy look. It's the pre Timeskip look everyone thinks of is cuffed shorts, Kimono sandels and sleeveless vest (and Strawhat, obviously) but have you ever seen them all in a line? It's mad. Each outfit is the same basic look bit more are more spicy each time! I like the Thriller Bark and Sabaody Archipelago looks a little bit more cos it's nice to see that jacket open and it feels like he was trying something new. I also feel that the buttons on the jacket look like the ones on Shanks' pegged ankle sailor pants when we first see him so that's cool. (it took me hours to find the name for his trousers, oh my fucking god) The last Dressrosa outfit feels like a nice callback to the rest of the line up here without being too much cos it's just a red vest top instead and I do find it funny it's like the Enies Lobby and it's used in Dressrosa because of the jokes people make about Robin and Law being so similar.

Timeskip: This is it lads, it's the one true icon itself, the post look! ☺️ When I sit back and look at it I see all the people this look is influenced by and want to cry at how masterful it really is. (Now, I do wanna say that I didn't come up with this nor am I the first to say it and I am definitely probably looking too much into this but) The yellow belt is taken from Shanks' red belt the first time we see him and the Shanks look Luffy is more familiar with. Now onto the jacket. I know it won't stand out as to why for most but it's Ace inspired! When Ace leave to become a pirate, the start of his adventure, he has his jacket open and Luffy having his jacket open also shows his scar from the ending of Ace's adventure. I also really appreciate how no one hides scars in this anime. Also, someone said that the style of the jacket and it's fancy frills could be in reference to Sabo's little jabot collar and honestly I do see it. it's quite subtle unlike Shanks' but not as hard to catch as Ace's so I enjoy thinking that it's there too. Lastly, he still has his cuffed shorts and kimono sandels because it's still Luffy's outfit at the end of the day and he is still who is is, just with a stronger appreciation of what people have done for him now. It's also his colour pallette for the pure fact he is the main character n needs his pallet. also sometimes he just has normal wooden sandels but the same outfit sometimes, it's a small detil a lot of people overlook but I prefer the sound of his Kimono sandels 😊

Dressrosa: I love this outfit cos it's stilly but also has very nice vibes. Looks ready for the beach but is really throwing hands and that's the best kind of outfit, it's a nice expectation subversion tbh. I also like how he tried to hide the Straw hat but not... All of it? And I love how the crew didn't actually question it either. It would have been super easy for one of them to just tell him to leave it behind or something but I do really love how respectful they always are of the hat. I myself have a hat that's super important to me and when I loose it I go mad.

Whole Cake Island: I love this arc for outfits! I swear if the actual content of it doesn't kill me, the act looks will 😭 it's all so magical and it knows it is! Like I said before, white is a good color on him as he has black hair but for the same reason, so is black! In this arcs outfit range, the Staw hat seems almost invisible and his outfit gets less and less 'Luffy' as the arc gose on showing this is not about him. He's not the focus of this arc and you can see that in a lot of the outfits thb. I also like the lack of blue and yellow, 2/3 of his colors as Sanji is often associated with those too as we've talked about before. Also, I like the little red strips on the white jacket with the gold buttons, idk why and I think it's nice that the last 2 outfits are so simple in general, it's a nice look for him. oh, what's that? A Pink jabot? Your killing me Lu, straight up killing me here lil' bro! Side note, is this the first time in canon Luffy has worn a suit jacket or is it the only time I've noticed? Cos DAMM!! Shits sick as fuck and I actually love that when wearing a suit jacket as such he always keep short on 😆

Spa Island, Z's Ambition & Strong World: WHOS READY FOR A RELAXING SUNNY DAAAYY!? (pun not intended but very much enjoyed) I actually adore the fact Luffy still tries to go swimming cos it was his favourite thing to do as a kid so like fuck Luffy is gonna give up on that. He's got his safety measures ready, what more do you want from him? I mean I personally want him not to swim with his hat on cos it's litrally Staw and that's not good for water but anyway Z's Ambition, am I right!? The top is so fucking cute and I just noticed those shorts are also ✨designer✨ fancy man!! Now, the pic of Zoro is the one I missed out before and it's also from Z's Ambition. I love that Luffy has the shark top but Zoro has the ocean shorts. I really love Zoro in this purple cos and thick white stripes really work with the ocean waves. It's really well put together and hes got dark brown sandels on to off set all the white but keep the purple from being a stand out color, it's cool! Than the last Luffy looks like he's at a fashion show. It looks like the shorts come from a kids set the shark top belongs to. Imagine those together, it'd be so cute. However, it isn't an ocean patten, those are clouds cos Nami has a bikini top with the same pattern in Skypiea and it's actually one of my favourites for her.

Boss Luffy Historical Special! This filler AU is so much fun, I think any it a lot. He has his hair up in that super cute and useless way that doesn't actually do much but I do have my hair like that a lot n it's just... nice? Idk, it's strange buy I like he did that. I really enjoy his Kimono more that the actual Wano one cos it's a lot more simple look. The Sai being tucked in in that way is also cool but kinda makes it look like it's stabbing him a bit 👁️👄👁️. I like the pin strips being like a faded purpleish cos if you just glance at it, it makes it look it fuzzy. The belt also looks very nice with the middle ligter bit. It really feels like the Wano one was inspired by this is a way cos of the color matches. Like, it's probably not but still.

3D2Y, Adventure of Nebulandia 😍 & Heart of Gold: Hat-less Luffy is both a sin and a blessing. Regardless, I LOVE OP BOYS IN HOODIES!! I had to show you this specific the 3D2Y because we don't see the hood and it's soooo cute cos it a paw 😍 but also 😬 cos it's like... Kuma's paw the thing that cause 3D2Y in the first place. But that's also why it's so cool at the same time and AHHHHHH 😄 Now! On to Nebulandia! I really like this movie but also in canon, how does he have that jumper? Who made it for him and can I have one? It's Usopp flag design so I guess it could be him but he doesn't seem the type. Point is I want one. Last of this set is some really cosy outfits!! "How much fur?" "Yes" am I right? Like the first one is sooooo cosy with all the fur! Plus, a funky new bamboo hat, always a good thing to have a new hat. I appreciate that you can see the zips on these too. Then the orange turtle neck one with little fluffy bits is just here cos it's so out of his usual looks, I had to at least mention it.

Strong world & Film Z: The shorts on the first one are really cute cos it's a light rosey pink with red fur and just a plain solid dark blue colour jacket works really well. Not to mention the fact he has a super cute orange and yellow flight helmet hat with goggles on under the Staw hat. The 2 bag straps also make an X which is a nice detail. The 2nd outfits in this movie are super fuckin cool ngl. It's so strange to see them all dress in black and have guns but I like the red shirt for him with the yellow highlighted parts. Makes the Straw hat actually work with the outfit instead of ignoring it. Film Z brings us the same flight helmet hat just brighter and without the goggles but also opens with this T-Shirt and Luffy being silly with it. I think that's the only reason to mention it, it's funny. Then the obligation pirate outfit, always stunning plus the meat belt.

Film: Gold & Stampede (also used in Cidre Guild): these are my top 3 Luffy outfits no matter what else I see. I love the straw cowboy hat sooooo much cos it's very Luffy. I like the balls they has as a team to choose white for all of them, considering they are all quite messy people, living for that dad shirt and I like the Golden chain around his neck but am always confused as to why it was never used against him. Like dude could and should have tried to choke him at least once, right? Anyway, the dress! Now, the dress isn't actually that good but it's my favourite because it shows how Luffy has no fucks about gendered things. On to of that, a big pink flower is wonderful and look at his confidences in it, he's so proud of it the boom, Nami told him he can't wear it! Lastly, the Stampede outfit!!! Just like the Nebulandia jumper, I have no idea who made it but it's irrelevant cos it's beautiful and I want it so badly. I like that it's white and red stripes, gives thenprefect vibes for Stampedes opening. The shirt is actually too big for him, you can see on his arms but it's actually super cute. I love the simple look of these shorts then the fact his yellow belt is replaced with white bandages and the black on the kimono sandels are now red? It's such a simple pallet and it's truly the best!

I also just wanna add, I think it's really cute when Luffy has the Straw hat on his back just cos his hair is really cute. Idk why, it's looks kinda cursed but cute at the same time

This post took 2 weeks or so to make and we made listening to the complete BNHA soundtrack, film gold OST and Sonic generations vol.1

Sanji

Zoro

Nami

#one piece #monkey d luffy #monky d luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #op art ref #art ref #art reference

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jbrentonparker · 4 years ago

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Plotting Method #7: Stream of Consciousness

Okay. Full disclosure. This is how I plot, and it’s a mess--but a lot of fun, in my opinion; and if you have a lot of thoughts all at once that aren’t necessarily coming out in a logical order, it may be the method for you.

This method doesn’t really have coherent steps, because it’s just based on the natural flow of your own thoughts.

Where to Start

Start with whatever you have. For the examples here, I’m going to make something up as a I go along, exactly as I would if I were doing this in real life.

Maybe you have an idea for a character, or a scene, or a concept. Start there by just writing it down. I write it as if I’m talking to myself, in full sentences, but may you’ll do bullet points, or a mind map, or some other method.

EXAMPLE: “Story idea: a story where a guy is on the run from death. Death is looking for him for some reason, and he’s trying not to be found.”

Expanding Upon the Idea

Okay, so now you have... something. And you don’t really know where to go with it. So start asking yourself questions, and try to answer them. They don’t have to be good answers, and you don’t have to use any of what you write. You’re just brainstorming until something clicks.

EXAMPLE: “So why is death after him??? Maybe he was supposed to die but found a way not to? May he was sick, knew he was dying, and somehow found a way to hide from Death (who is like an actual being in this world). Or maybe he died in some accident and made a deal with Death to get a little more time, and now Death is here to collect after the time runs out, but in the meantime the guy has found out a way to hide from Death? I think I like the first idea better though.”

Bouncing Around

One thing that is nice about this method is that you don’t need to work chronologically. You can bounce around as ideas come to you, and then go back and rework what you’ve come up with so far to fit in with the new ideas.

EXAMPLES: “I have this image in my head of a scene where the guy has finally been caught by Death, and is standing in like this... in-between, limbo world or something. Death is all pleased he’s finally caught up with the guy, but then the guy whips out this item, like a coin, that buys his way out of death. And maybe that’s how he does it, there are these special coins that can “buy” your freedom from death, and he has some way of finding them, over and over again, and always has at least one when Death shows up to collect the next time. And maybe he keeps dying over and over again in ridiculous ways, like eagles dropping turtles on his head and having sinkholes open up under his feet, as Death keeps trying to take him by surprise.”

Give Yourself a Goal

Once you have something to work off, start asking yourself questions about the conflict, climax, character goals, etc etc. Start working on getting your plot some direction, goals, and structure.

EXAMPLE: “So I know the conflict is this guy running from and outwitting Death, but what’s the climax? Where does that lead? Maybe he has to work WITH Death for some reason? Maybe he meets someone who needs to die by the end of the story? I feel like I want the main character to have to die in the end, but he has accepted it, and is ready to let it happen. Oh, maybe he meets someone who is going to die for some untimely reason, like they weren’t supposed to, and he has to give that person his coin to save them? Like, maybe he meets this woman, and while he’s in Limbo with Death, handing over his coin and getting out of dying for the millionth time, Death suddenly feels... like, a disturbance in the force. Something has happened that wasn’t supposed to, someone’s fate has been changed. Maybe Death pulls out this hourglass and sees that someone’s hourglass has suddenly lost a huge amount of sand at once--not supposed to happen. Death go,es there, bring MC for some reason? MC meets the woman, maybe she’s a Queen or leader of a group or country, and someone is planning to assassinate her. Death has a lot of work to do obviously, but can’t have this kind of reality-altering nonsense going on, so partly out of spite, he tells the MC to fix whatever has gone wrong and protect this woman, and he (Death) will stop trying to kill MC all the time. So then it becomes this political intrigue thing.”

Inevitable Changes

Do you see what happened up there in my example? Originally, I’d started out with an idea that the main conflict was between the Main Character (MC) and Death, and that the main antagonist was, more or less, Death. But now I have this completely different main antagonist, some shadowy assassin, and Death and my MC are forced to become allies. Things change as you work and come up with new ideas--and sometimes, you might follow a thread of an idea to the end, and find out it doesn’t work after all. You may have to throw it out and start over, possibly more than once. But it also helps you avoid plot holes later, by working through them in the planning stages.

Keeping Track of it All

The biggest challenge with this method is ending up with twenty pages of rambling plot, half of which you changed or didn’t use or is just you asking yourself questions.

How I combat this is by liberal use of my word processor’s highlighter. Once I feel like I’ve hit on something I’ll use, I’ll highlight it in the document, usually according to some kind of color-coded system (e.g. yellow for plot points, orange for actual scene ideas, blue for character ideas/background/development, green for lines of dialogue I’ve just thought of, etc).

Then, once I’ve plotted out as much as I can, I’ll go back through the document, pull those highlighted bits, and put them all in their own document--et viola, I have an outline.

The beauty of this method is it allows you to plot as minimally or extensively as you like. You can use it just to get a general sense of your overall plot, or keep drilling down until you end up with a chapter-by-chapter outline.

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If more structured plotting methods feel too restrictive or cookie-cutter, this could be a good alternative. If you’re transitioning from pantser to planner, it could be a good method to ease yourself into the new writing style. If you struggle with writing yourself into plot holes, this method could allow you to pursue plot threads in more depth before you write them, allowing you to spot pitfalls earlier on and avoid them later. Or if you find yourself just coming up with too many ideas all at once and struggle to get the first ones written down without forgetting the later ones, this method could allow you to just get all those ideas down and worry about stringing them together later.

#story plotting #plot ideas #plot #plot methods #plotting methods #writing tips #writing ideas #story structure #how to plot a story

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Teru finds Reader wearing one of his oversized hoodies

· Of course you were best friends. He a cook, you a farmer, it was as if it were destined. True, your work was labor intensive and left you little to no room for relaxation since you did everything by hand, refusing to use too many machines, but you loved it all the same. Though because of that you had little goods, but they were top grade, of the best quality perfect for Teru who refused to use anything but the best.

· In order to save money Teru had moved in with you. With a small farm you were able to live closer to the big city than most farms so you could easily transport ingredients to Teru’s restaurant. He payed the majority of the bills so your income could be dedicated to your farm. Teru making a bit more than you was able to get a very nice house for you. It was cozy and small, but nice. You both rather liked this arrangement since you both greatly benefited from it.

· You always awoke before the sun rose heading straight to work. You’d fill some hand crates with the ingredients you knew Teru was running low on, placing them in the car, knowing Teru would get to it soon. By that time the sun would have risen and Teru would be leaving for work at any moment. You were normally out working till nightfall where upon entering the house Teru always had a meal ready for you, and you’d chat about your day, if there were any funny stories of rude customers or how you thought this season’s harvest was going to turn out.

· It was rarer but you did get some free time on occasion. You’d take the time to relax, perhaps soak in a nice hot bath with lit incense or candles, maybe add some bubbles to the water. Perhaps you’d do some yoga, play video games or listen to some music as you lazed on the couch. You’d even try your own hand at cooking from time to time for the fun of it.

· One day you managed to finish work early, just a little before the sunset. It was simply gorgeous. You always took the time to appreciate nature as you worked but doing so was different when you knew you had nothing else to do. Watching the sun slowly fall behind those trees, yellows, reds, oranges, purples, and blues. Simply lovely. You sighed as the cooling wintery wind rolled past signaling to you the end of autumn was coming, winter slowly creeping in. You strolled along, watching the sky as you slowly made your way back to the house.

· You stretched your back out for a moment before opening the closet door, looking for your bath robe. Taking it off the hanger the soft scent of lavender and other flowery smells wafted to you, a reminder of the luxury candle you had used last you soaked in the tub.

· It was then you noticed something odd. One of Teru’s oversized hoodies was in your closet. Perhaps he was in a rush to put the laundry away and accidently mixed one of his pieces in your articles. You never saw why he wore these for pajamas, with it being so much bigger and he being fairly short, wouldn’t he just get lost in it? You thought that to yourself as you took the hoodie out, planning on placing it in his bedroom closet.

· As you strode over to his room you stopped before it, realizing something. Holding it up, you momentarily inspected it. This should fit you.

· … It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

· You tossed off your shirt, discarding it into our room and quickly slipped into the hoodie. Slightly form fitting it was still comfortable, the material being light and stretchy. You did some flexing, finding that if you were just a little less buff it’d fit normally. Given you worked outside in the sun so much you preferred slightly looser clothing, but this could be nice for lazing around on a cool day which it happened to be day.

· You lifted up the hoodie momentarily before noticing a certain someone with a bleeding nose from the corner of your eye. “Ah Y/N don’t mind me, just admiring the view and those impeccable abs!” You rolled your eyes, finding how he could still happily ogle you even though he literally sees you sweating and working every single day. You thought he’d have gotten bored with you by now, but you should have known better. You live with Teru, he could find something attractive about anyone… and it certainly helped that you were ripped basically working out all day, every day. “Well take in as much as you can now, I’m taking a bath.” “Oh~ A bath? Can I join?” You chuckled hearing that silly tone. “Sorry, but no.” As you walked past you dropped the hoodie on him. “Knock on the door when dinner’s ready. Alright?” “Okay, but since I have you, want a meat based main course or vegetable.” “Ummm… Everything you make is delicious, I couldn’t care less what it is, but if I had to choose… which ever you made less of at work today.”

· Sinking into the bubble bath you adored this relaxing warm feeling. As much as you loved your work, pampering yourself was always amazing. Hearing that knock, knock, knocking, you were about to reluctantly get out when you heard a door creek, seeing a small table with a plate of delicious food slid beside the bath, the door open just enough for a person to slide their arm through before quickly being shut. Though a bit perverted, you appreciated how Teru didn’t do anything drastic and respected others space. Even when doing this he didn’t dare take a peak inside. He certainly grew up since high school.

· … As kind of a gesture this was, it… it felt wrong to you. “Hey, why don’t you eat here too, and no, you still can’t join me in the bath.” “Ah, you’re too sweet. I’ll be back in a moment.” With the enormous mountain of bubbles that floated on the surface of the water you felt fine knowing he could only stare at you from the shoulders up. You had gotten used to his staring, but it could get uncomfortable on occasion.

· When he returned you chatted about your day as usual, him saying the highlight of his was seeing you in his hoodie. “Uh huh, I’m sure. Not like you literally see me every day.” “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, just because you see the sun set every day it doesn’t become any less beautiful.” “Hmm… Yeah, I suppose so.” “So, did you like it?” “Yeah, it was comfy.” “Keep it then!” “Are you sure? It is your pajamas.” “Y/N, you have no tight clothing, I don’t mind giving it to you at all.” “Heh, thought so.” “We both win with this deal.” “Yeah, funny how we can so easily make mutual deals.” “You’re smart and kind. This sort of thing comes naturaly to you.” “I could say the same about you too. We’re like two peas in a pod you could say.” Then you suddenly saw that glint in Teru’s eye, knowing he was about to make some lude comment.

· Living with your best friend could be a bit much at times, but he was still your best friend. You wouldn’t want to live life any other way.

#teruteru hanamura #teruteru x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagines #dr imagine #dr2 imagine #dr 2 imagine #danganronpa x reader

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joezworld · 4 years ago

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Story - The Railway Prometheus, or, when the Diesels discover fire

Based off of this headcanon that I made.

And this one.

And also parts of this one.

I decided to write an actual honest-to-god RWS style thing

Dragons teaching Diesels

2001

Most diesel engines dislike being cold started.

Cold starting occurs when a diesel is started while their fuel and engine block are both cold. Diesel engines do not work like petrol engines, which use a spark plug to ignite the fuel, and instead compress the fuel vapour, causing it to ignite on its own. This is called compression ignition.

When the engine block or the fuel is cold, the fuel does not compress properly, and it means that some of the engine’s cylinders will fire, while others do not. This causes the engine to fire unevenly, makes a ghastly knocking sound, and produces a lot of smoke and soot - commonly called clag.

On the Island of Sodor, a cold started diesel also produces another ghastly noise - this time coming from the Steam Engines watching. They assume that something has gone dreadfully wrong, and make many unhelpful comments about the clag and the noise.

Bear and BoCo are well aware of what cold starting is, and try to avoid being near other engines - partly so that they can cold start without Gordon or James’ unhelpful commentary, but mostly so that no one could hear them yelling...

“FUCK!” BoCo swore from within a cloud of soot and clag. It was a bitterly cold February morning, and nobody wanted to start properly. His engine was knocking like it belonged in an old jalopy, and he felt most uncomfortable.

Bear grimaced in sympathy as he shot his own tower of clag into the otherwise crisp morning air. His motor mounts were going to ache later, and- “Aggh!” He cried as fire shot out of his exhaust vents.

Another issue with cold starting was that unburnt fuel would build up within an engine’s exhaust manifold. Once the manifold got hot enough, the fuel would then spontaneously combust - sending huge gouts of flame out of the exhaust stacks. Bear hated it when that happened, as it caused a very unpleasant sensation. He knew BoCo hated it as well.

But, for some diesels on the island, it seemed to be the highlight of their day…

“Three, two, one, GO!” shouted Pip and Emma in unison. At their call, massive pillars of flame shot out both sets of exhaust stacks, bathing the yard in a bright orange light for a moment.

“How do you two enjoy that?” He asked. Before this winter the HST pair had been stabled at Barrow, but had been moved down to the Tidmouth diesel shed in the summer of 2000. Now that he was regularly in close contact with them, their numerous eccentricities began to stand out.

“It’s fun!” Came the response from the blue and yellow passenger train.

From inside his cloud, BoCo hacked incredulously. “Fucking How?!”

“You have to do it right.” Said Emma. The massive grin on her face meant that she was eagerly anticipating somebody asking her to demonstrate the ‘right way’.

“There’s a wrong way?” Bear raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t letting her get what she wanted that easily.

“Of course there is! It’s the wrong way if it hurts!”

“We’re catching on fire. How does that not hurt?”

“By being a dragon, silly!”

“What.”

“Just be a dragon!” Pip shouted from the other end of the HST trainset.

“You still haven’t made sense.” Bear puzzled as his engine finally started firing on all cylinders.

More bursts of fire belched from within the BoCo-shaped cloud - his motor just wasn’t having it today.

“Bear - stop. What is the right way Emma?” Implored the cloud.

“I - I don’t know how to explain it,” she began. “But you need to - it feels like-”

“Just breathe in through your exhaust manifold!” Bellowed Pip, as if this made any sense.

After a few minutes of listening to BoCo making bizarre sounding whistling noises, Bear began to think that Pip and Emma were making fun of him. His only evidence against this was Emma’s genuinely earnest expression as she tried to talk the diesel through this ‘breathing exercise’.

Finally, a hacking cough emerged from the Cloud Formerly Known as Boco, before a giant column of flame shot ten feet horizontally out of where BoCo’s mouth would be.

Swearing loudly, the Hymek lurched backwards as Pip and Emma cheered.

“Was that supposed to happen?!” He cried.

“Yes!” Pip called as BoCo began to fire on all cylinders.

Bear goggled at her, to which she wryly grinned, before shooting her own blast of flames - right out of her mouth.

“See, this is why we’re the Dragon Sisters!” She said exuberantly.

“Really?”

“Nah. But it sure is fun!”

As Bear pondered the class 43’s sanity, BoCo’s cloud dissipated, revealing a happy Metrovick - engine now firing on all cylinders. “Pip, Emma, however did you learn how that worked?” He asked as his crew emerged from the yard office - totally ignorant to the many bursts of fire that had just happened.

“I dunno,” Emma said after a moment of thinking. “It just sort of happened. But it’s really cool! I can do it whenever I want to as well!”

To prove this, she smiled, and a small burst of flames licked around her teeth, but didn’t explode outwards like before.

“What an incredibly odd thing for the factory to do to you. Carry on.” BoCo was at a loss for words and was unsure if he should be concerned, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and said no more as his crew ran across the yard and into the warmth of his cab. His cold engine had made them very late, and they wasted no time in driving him away.

“You weren’t built like that, were you?” Bear said as BoCo disappeared into the distance.

“No.” Said Emma.

“Can you teach me?”

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

Revenge is best served on fire

BoCo lived on Edward’s branch line, serving as the primary freight diesel for the industries in Suddery and Brendam. As a result of this, he is often forced to be in close proximity to Bill and Ben.

Bill and Ben are two yellow menaces tank engines that work for the China Clay company in Brendam. Originally, they were restricted to working just on the small industrial spur that served the clay pits, but as cargo traffic increased in the late 1990s, they had been given permission to travel as far as Wellsworth to deliver their trains of clay directly to the main line.

This sounds like good news for BoCo, as it means less work for him, but in actuality it is the opposite.

You see, Bill and Ben are very dedicated pranksters, and spend many hours having fun at BoCo and Edward’s expense. While the pranks only work occasionally, their goal of annoying BoCo and Edward is often met regardless.

One day in March, BoCo was resting between trains at Wellsworth Station when Bill and Ben peeped into the yard, a long string of clay trucks rattling behind them.

Maybe they’ll be too tired to do anything. He thought to himself.

“Oh! There’s BoCo!”

“He’s sleeping! Let’s do plan seven!”

How naive I must be.

BoCo kept his eyes shut as Bill and Ben began babbling to each other in German. He had no idea how or when the terrible twosome had managed to learn it, but it had proved most irritating - which was probably why they learned it in the first place.

“Mal sehen, ob er das merkt!”

“Ja!”

BoCo had no idea what they were saying, but knew he’d be annoyed by it. Perhaps a pre-emptive strike could be arranged…

Breathing in deeply through his exhaust vents like Pip and Emma had taught him, BoCo waited until the twins drew nearer.

As they got close, he dropped his jaw open as if he was about to begin snoring. After waiting a few more seconds, he let out the deep breath he was holding.

A massive blast of fire shot out of the Diesel’s mouth - BoCo couldn’t see it, but it almost scorched Ben's eyebrows off.

“SCATTER!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

The sound of frantic steam engines vanished into the distance, and BoCo sighed in relief.

For a moment, all was still.

For a moment -

“What in the world was that?!”

BoCo cracked open an eye to see Henry, sitting at the signals with a load of hoppers. He had seen everything, and wasn’t sure if he was seeing things or not.

“Indigestion.” Was all BoCo said before going back to sleep.

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

Wendell, Dragons, and Bears, Oh My!

Despite what many engines may claim, Pip, Emma, Bear, and BoCo were not the only diesels on the North Western Railway. There is also Wendell.

Wendell is the works diesel for Crovan’s Gate works. He is a Blue and Yellow Class 47, and spends most of his days rescuing broken down engines and returning empty stock from the works to the yards where they’re needed. Because he normally meets engines while they are broken down, he is regarded well by all the engines on the Island - even James, who normally views Diesel traction with suspicion.

Just like the other diesels on the Island, Wendell dislikes cold starts, but has much less experience with them than the others do, as he has a nice warm shed at the works that he lives in year-round!

Bear and BoCo aren’t jealous, but Pip and Emma are! No matter how much they enjoy cold-starting, they still don’t enjoy being left outside in the frigid air.

One morning in April 2001, Wendell was dispatched to Tidmouth - Henry had failed, and an engine was needed to take his morning trains.

Wendell had agreed - in no small part because he didn’t know that Henry’s ‘morning’ included the Flying Kipper, which left Tidmouth at 3:15 in the ‘morning’!

To make things worse, there was an unseasonable cold snap, with temperatures dropping below freezing overnight.

Wendell missed his shed as he shivered in the yard at Tidmouth. His engine was cold, and the fuel that his driver had pumped in wasn’t any warmer.

His starter motor tried and tried to make him start, and when it eventually happened, he was enveloped in a cloud of soot and clag as his engine fired on maybe three of its twelve cylinders.

“Yuck!” He moaned as the cloud thickened. “I can’t see anything! And my motor mounts hurt!”

“Breathe through your exhaust!” Came a cry through the haze.

“What?”

“Breathe in through your exhaust manifold! It should help!” The mystery voice said again.

“Okay!” It wasn’t like he would lose anything by trying, so Wendell tried, and eventually managed to take a deep breath in through his exhaust stacks.

Unfortunately, this meant that he inhaled a lot a clag and fuel vapor, which caused him to start coughing and hacking until -

“Yipe!” A jet of fire shot out of his mouth!

A cheer broke out from beyond the haze as his engine started to fire on more cylinders. In a few minutes, Wendell was much warmer, and his engine was firing on all cylinders as the haze began to clear, revealing Bear and Pip.

“Isn’t that better?” The HST called to him.

“Yes, but - what?” Wendell tripped over his words. “How does that happen?”

“We’re not sure,” Said Bear, as flames danced around the inside of his mouth. “but it works wonders on cold nights like this.”

“Ooookaaay.” Said the Works Diesel slowly. “So, I can just do that now?”

“Pretty much!” Pip said cheerfully.

Wendell, feeling like he had just been initiated into a cult, said his goodbyes as his crew stumbled up to him, coffee thermoses firmly in their grasp.

This island is insane. He thought to himself. But I live here. So I must be insane too.

As he was driven towards the docks, he breathed in through his vents again, and felt a pleasant warmth fill his mouth.

He smiled to himself. Maybe being a bit crazy isn't so bad.

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

Fire Breathing Dragons

While Pip and Emma live on the Island of Sodor, their duties require them to travel from Tidmouth to London and back on a daily basis. Ordinarily there is no issue with this, but every now and again, they will be forced to stay the night in London.

One night in the summer of 2002, planned track work meant that their return service couldn’t be run, and the sisters found themselves in a very shabby looking depot outside of Euston station.

God, this place has gone downhill since BR. Pip thought to her sister.

Too right. I think the shunter said that this was going to be torn down after they replace us with Pendolinos. Emma replied, referring to their class as a whole. It was an open secret that the Intercity 125 sets were going to be replaced with new tilting trains on the West Coast Main Line - soon the Dragon Sisters would be the only HST on the line.

“Eurrgh,” Oiled a voice from a few lines away. “Must we stay here tonight?”

Pip was blocked by a rake of coaches, but Emma could see that there was another HST set a few roads away. The power car looked disgusted to have to be in this shed.

“Yes Chauncey,” Came the voice of the other power car on the set. “We have to stay here tonight. I’m not any more pleased about it than you.”

“I know, 092, I know,” Chauncey said resignedly. “At least it could be worse.”

“How can it be worse?”

“Well, that other HST set could be awake - then we’d have to talk to them!”

“Oh heavens! I hadn’t even thought of that!”

Well they seem nice. Pip sarcastically thought to Emma - clearly Chauncey and 092 didn’t share the same mental link that they did, and assumed that the sisters were asleep.

Yeah - like Gordon when he gets boiler sludge. Emma replied. She vaguely remembered working with 092 back in the BR days, and didn’t have fond memories.

Several hours passed. Pip and Emma were idly discussing the newest gossip that they’d heard, a few trains rumbled past on the WCML, and Chauncey and 092 made inane conversion around which railroad in the country was worse than the others.

Emma was on the edge of drifting off to sleep when 092 spoke up.

“Oh! That’s right! What about the No-Where Railway? That place must be a pit!”

He didn’t. Emma thought.

“You mean that one off of Furness? The retirement home for antiquated heaps?”

He did. Her sister replied.

“Excuse me!” Pip spoke out loud for the first time that night. “But are you, by chance, talking about the North Western Railway?”

“Oh goodness!” Chauncey said in fright. “I’m sorry! Did we wake you?”

“No,” Said Emma. “What were you saying about the NWR?”

“The No-Where Railway? There isn’t much to say about it really,” 092 said blithely. “It’s a hole in the countryside that you shovel old metal into - I’d be ruder, but I don’t think that they ever got the notice that BR dissolved, so I can’t blame them.”

“92?” Said Chauncey, who had suddenly noticed the lettering on Emma’s side - and the expression on her face. “Perhaps you should stop talking now.”

“Why? It isn’t like they’re from that island - they don’t look like they came out of a black and white film.” 092 said, unaware of who he was speaking to.

“Actually,” ground out Emma. “We are from that Island.”

“Oh. well how unfortunate for you,” 092 sniffed. “Tell me, do they still believe that Beeching is alive there?”

The late night trains at Euston Station practically jumped off of their rails at the barrage of sounds that echoed throughout the station yard. It sounded like the Tyrannosaurus from Jurassic Park was yelling at someone, and punctuating their conversation with massive fireballs.

Fire crews from Railtrack and the borough of Camden responded, but found no traces of any fire - or a Tyrannosaur.

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thelordofdarkreunion · 4 years ago

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- Rock n’ Roll

This one is definitely a little late. Took me a while to write it, and I had to make several changes. It might be a bit awkward in parts, but that is because I have tried to portray each character faithfully and tried to have them do what they would actually do in the battle scenes. As per usual, I own none of these characters except for Thomas Drake. Enjoy! (Side note: I figured out how to use the “read more” so this won’t be as long in the dash!)

In the hangar of the Normandy, Adam Vir and Master Chief waited. The Chief was currently flipping through everyone’s communication channels.

“Do you really trust this guy, Captain?” That was the internal communications of the Enterprise.

“No. And his group of armsmen is putting me on edge. But we control this ship and we have transporters and they don’t.” The rest coming from Kirk’s crew was all military and technological jargon. He flipped to the Apocalypse's internal communications.

“So, the question is: since it’s a fruit, tomato, mixed with sugar, is ketchup a smoothie?” That was Drake. Of course it was.

“Well, by that definition, yes,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“But ketchup has vinegar in it. And if you think smoothies have vinegar, well, then you really need to reevaluate your life’s choices,” replied someone else.

“An excellent point! Indeed, what is a smoothie? Does vinegar belong in your smoothies?” said Drake. Master Chief shook his head and changed channels. He had a feeling that if he listened to that conversation for much longer, his head would implode.

“How did he get that stuff? Twenty suits of carapace armor, five crates of hot-shot lasguns, ten crates of normal lasguns, a crate of chainswords, and two power swords, all with Imperial markings!” That was Kasteen, commander of the Valhallans. “And, Cain, what was that thing? An Exitus rifle? I’ve never heard of it.”

“That last one’s the one that worries me. The reason I know of it is because of my work with Inquisitor Vail,” replied Cain.

“Shit. You think he stole it from the Inquisition?”

“The only people who have access to those are Inquisitors and Vindicares.”

“Oh he’s beyond frakked.” The Chief cut the communications as Shepard walked into the hangar bay. He was wearing a full set of black combat armor with a heavy helmet. Vir, the other occupant of the hangar, looked up from where he was fiddling with his own armor.

“Shepard. Pleased to see you.” His one good green eye gleamed from under a shock of blond hair. “Are we ready to go?”

“Give me a sec.” Shepard turned to the hooded and violet masked figure that was present with him at the Scoundrel’s first meeting. “Tali?” he asked the figure. “Are they going to know we’re coming?”

“No, commander.” It was a feminine voice, with a strange and slightly mechanical accent that emanated from the suit. “The engineers aboard the Enterprise and Apocalypse are quite good at what they do. It would be interesting to know what all these new people have! Technology-wise, I mean. The possibilities of-” Shepard cut her off.

“Good to know, Tali.”

“Right. Sorry. Got carried away.”

“If you’d like, I’ll give you a tour of the Apocalypse,” cut in Drake’s suave voice over their earpieces. “That, of course, extends to the rest of you.” Master Chief keyed his comm.

“You’ve been listening to us this whole time?” he asked.

“Well, I can’t talk about vinegar smoothies forever, now, can I? To get more to the point, Cain and I are in position, and Cooper and Quill are on their way. This thing all depends on you, so I suggest you get down here before they notice fifty Imperial Guardsmen and fifteen mercenary armsmen hanging outside their front gate.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going.” They boarded the shuttle, Master Chief having to hunch his massive frame to avoid banging into the doors. The ride to the muddy-brown planet below them was smoot and silent. From the window of the transport, they could see the silhouettes of the teams’ starships above them, gleaming in the weak yellow light of the nearby sun. The atmospheric entry was much smoother than either Vir or Master Chief had ever felt, and the shuttle landed on the planet much faster than they expected. The shuttle’s three occupants disembarked quickly, professionally, and set out in a trot to the distant specter of the military base. They arrived on schedule, and found a small electrical access passage, barely tall enough to squeeze through, exactly where Drake’s map said it was.

Drake checked the timer on his wrist computer. His armsmen and several Imperial Guardsmen cluster around him, waiting expectantly.

“And...nine minutes and twenty-five seconds for Shepard to get his ass in gear and get planetside. If you had more than ten minutes, pay up.” There were grumblings in the crowd, while money and liquor exchanged hands. One of the armsmen looked up.

“Captain, how long for the other timer?” Drake checked his wrist again.

“...nineteen minutes and twenty six...twenty seven seconds since we got here, and they still haven’t noticed over a hundred armed hostiles sitting outside their front gate.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Sloppy. If you bet under twenty minutes, you're probably going to be losing something.” He glanced over to where Cain and Jurgen were leaning against the compound’s outer wall. “How are you two holding up?”

Cain looked up from a mug of steaming liquid in his hands. “Fine. These people still haven’t noticed us?” Drake snorted.

“No. I’m really good at what I do, and they’re really bad. Honestly, I’m not quite sure how they managed to steal the thing we’re after in the first place.”

On the other side of the compound, Peter Quill paced.

“What’s taking them so long?” he hissed. Gamora, his green-skinned second in command, looked up from where she was sitting and sharpening a sword.

“Relax. We’re fine.”

“I know…” Quill trailed off, paced more, then turned back. “Do you think that these people know what they’re doing?” Cooper, who had been silently checking his weapons up until this point, spoke.

“Shepard is supposed to be a hero, and a special forces operative, based on Drake’s briefing.” Noticing Quill’s blank look, he gave a very good incredulous stare, considering he had his helmet on. “You didn’t read it?”

“Uh...maybe.” Cooper and Gamora both shook their heads.

“Shepard’s is apparently very good. At least, according to Drake. And the problem with that is we don’t know if Drake is telling the truth about anything.” Quill considered this. He did have a point.

Shepard, Vir, and Master Chief squeezed through the narrow metal electrical duct and into a small, dimly lit concrete room in the basement of the compound. They brushed plaster dust off themselves before looking up. Shepard tapped his wrist and some sort of glowing orange hologram sprang to life, covering his let forearm. The others leaned in and recognized it as Drake’s map of the compound.

“Right. So we are here,” Shepard highlighted the small room. “The item is here.” He traced a path throughout the sun-levels to a large main room in the center of the basement. “We need to stay low and follow this path.” Shepard glanced up and pointed at Master Chief. “You’re a super-soldier, so you’re taking point.” The Chief nodded.

“Copy that.” He unslung his weapon, dropped into a crouch, and proceeded forward, the two others following him. They walked through the concrete and metal halls, weapons at the ready, searching for any sign of life. Despite being over seven feet tall and clad in bulky armor, Master Chief moved with the deadly silence of a professional soldier. Twice they were almost caught, but due to their superior training and skills, they melted into the shadows as enemy patrols passed by. Through more hallways they made their way, hearing the laughter and occasionally fights of mercenaries. The enemy here was no more alert than they were on the main level, allowing the three to pass through the labyrinthian passageways undetected. They reached a large open area, where Master Chief suddenly gestured for a stop. Peering past the Chief’s massive shoulder, Shepard could see why. The open room was littered with mercenaries, lounging around with weapons still holstered. By his estimate, there were about twenty of them. Too many to take on without raising the alarm. Shepard cursed quietly under his breath, then pressed a finger to his ear.

“Drake,” he hissed. “We’re blocked. There’s a group in our way. We need a distraction.”

“Distraction you say?” The three could feel Drake’s smile over the audio. “Give me twenty.”

Outside the Compound

Drake slid up to the compound gate’s outside audio panel. He slid a knife under a small plate at the base of the panel and slid a small rectangular device from his belt into a slot.

“Let’s see here…” he muttered to himself. “Are you stupid enough to connect the PA system to the main computer? Yes...yes you are.” He tapped several buttons on his wrist computer and took a deep breath.

Inside the Compound

Shepard and Vir jumped as Drake’s voice crackled from the building’s PA system.

“Attention assorted idiots. I am Captain Thomas Drake. You may have heard of me. I am here, waiting just outside the front gate. I am going to kill you all and take back the black box. Come and get me.” The message abruptly terminated, and cheery music started playing.

“Private Perks is a funny little coger with a smile, a funny smile. Five feet none he’s an artful little dodger with a smile, a funny smile. Flush or broke he’ll have his little joke…” Shepard, Vir, and even the superhuman Master Chief started at the loudspeaker as the music played.

“Drake, what the hell are you doing?” asked Shepard.

“Creating a distraction,” replied Drake, just as cheerfully as the song.

“Telling the mercenaries to come and kill you and playing Smile, Smile, Smile is not a distraction,” stated Master Chief flatly.

“You sure about that? Look in front of you,” said Drake. Sure enough, the mercenaries occupying the room had grabbed their weapons and were hustling up the stairs to the main level. Shepard’s mouth opened and closed like a landed fish, then he sighed.

“Fine, let’s go.” As the last of the mercenaries trailed from the room, the three Scoundrels slipped by on their way to the item.

Outside the Facility

Drake glanced at his wrist computer and nodded at a group of armsmen.

“Four guards in the compound beyond the gate. There, there, there, and there.” He gestured at four spots beyond the wall. The armsmen nodded and took positions near the gate. “Overriding and opening the gate in three...two...one go!” Drake pressed a button and the massive armored gate swung open. The armsmen stepped forward and fired. The four mercenary guards pitched forward, dead. Drake nodded at the remaining Guardsmen and armsmen. “Right. Through the gate and set up a firing position. They’ll be coming, probably disorganized, from the main door.” He pointed at a large armored set of double doors that led inside the main facility. The soldiers nodded and readied their weapons. Drake pressed another button on his wrist.

On the other side of the Compound

“Cooper, Quill, this is Drake. The mercenaries are going to attack our position while Shepard, Chief, and Vir steal the thing. Get behind them.”

“Copy that,” replied Cooper with a nod. He looked at the large wall in front of them, then took a step back and jumped. Thrusters on the back of his suit activated and propelled him onto the wall. He turned his head to Quill and Gamora. “You two coming?” Quill scoffed.

“I can do that.” He pressed a small button on the top of his boots, and the heels lit up with the orange wash of jet boosters. Without the grace of Cooper he landed wobbly on the top of the wall. “See? Easy.” Gamora muttered “showoffs” under her breath and accepted Quill’s offered hand to boost her over the wall. Cooper dropped into the interior compound without a sound.

“Right. This way.”

On the Other Side of the Compound

The heavy armored doors opened and mercenaries, in various stages of preparedness, scrambled out, only to be met with the full firepower of one hundred and three well trained soldiers. The Imperials’ lasguns spat crimson death that flickered through the muddy air to impact with chests, legs, arms, and heads, burning away flesh and vaporizing the internal organs of the unprotected. The fire from the Apocalypse’s armsmen was no less lethal. The boom hiss thump of plasma infused ammunition contrasted with the whining crack of lasguns as small blue and purple explosions blew apart the mercenaries. Within seconds, the attacking mercenaries were dead.

“Let’s go!” called Drake as he led his armsmen into the interior. Cain nodded at the Guard.

“Forward. I’ll take up the rear.”

In the Basement

The mercenaries vault, the storage place of the item Drake was contracted to retrieve, stood in silence over the barren concrete room. Harsh yellow lights glared from the walls and seemed to be swallowed by the shadows in the corners. Two guards, weapons held at the ready, stood in front of the vault. The air split with two cracks. The two guards fell, two holes blown through their heads. Master Chief, weapon at the ready, entered the room, searching carefully for any other enemies. There were none. He nodded at his two companions.

“Clear.” He shouldered his rifle. “Now how the hell do we get that door open?” Shepard stepped up to the vault door. A small, rectangular computer was built into the wall. Shepard pressed his forearm, and once more the orange hologram appeared. He tapped the hologram several more times, and the vault door sprang open.

“Impressive,” noted Vir.

“I gotta get me one of those,” muttered Master Chief. They stepped through the circular entrance of the vault, and into the room beyond. The room was...unimpressive. It was cluttered with objects, weapons, and boxes of no discernable value. Master Chief keyed his comm. “Drake? We’re in the vault. What are we looking for?” There was a whine then the boom of a plasma discharge, which culminated into an abrupt, high pitched scream. Drake’s ragged breathing could be heard on the other end of the line.

“What? Sorry. Uh...you’re looking for a black box, about half a meter by half a meter. Should be somewhere pretty prominent.”

“Here it is!” said Vir. He held up a black box of the exact length and width.

“Drake, we have it.” There was a scream and the crackle of Imperial lasgun fire on the other end of the comm. “What is going on up there?”

“We’re fighting the mercenaries…” Boom! Hiss! Crack! “...shit. We appear to be winning at the moment. Get up here and kill or capture anyone who gets in your way.”

“Copy that.” Master Chief looked at Shepard and Vir. “Let’s move.”

Cooper, Quill, and Gamora advanced stealthily through the twisting passages of the mercenaries’ compound, weapons at the ready. For some reason, there was absurdly cheerful music blasting through the PA system. If Cooper had to guess, he would say that Thomas Drake most definitely had a hand in this. He sighed to himself, shaking his head, then abruptly stopped and held out his hand. Gamora instantly stopped and crouched, weapons at the ready. Quill almost ran into him. Ahead of the group were two guards, rifles out, looking more competent than any opposition they’d seen today. Quill raised a gun, but Gamora pushed it down.

“Quiet. If we go loud, they might have time to radio that we’re here.” Quill nodded, magining to look mollified behind the red lenses of his helmet.

“Right. My bad. What do we do?”

“I got this,” replied Cooper. Before either Quill or Gammora could say anything, Cooper tapped a device on his wrist. Immediately, his form shimmered and distorted, turning translucent. He took off running, and both watching pairs of eyes lost track of him. Gammora thought she saw a faint blur of movement at the top of the hall, near the ceiling, but dismissed it as her eyes playing tricks. And, just as they started wondering where Cooper had gone, he appeared just as suddenly and silently as he had appeared, this time directly behind the guards.

Quietly and casually, he stepped behind the first guard, wrapped his arm around the guard’s throat in a chokehold, drew the guard’s sidearm from its holster, and unceremoniously shot both guards through the head. Quick, brutal, efficient. Cooper tossed the pistol aside and hefted his own rifle.

“Let’s keep moving.” Gamora stared at him.

“Impressive. I need one of those things. What are they called?”

“Invisibility Cloak or Pilot’s Cloak. You can get them pretty easily from where I come from. Or you could ask Drake. I’m sure he stole a bunch of them.”

Drake’s plasma gun spat a ball of molten death at an enemy mercenary. It melted through the mercenary’s thin armor, blasted through his bones, and disintegrated his organs. The mercenary only had time for a half scream, half whimper, before his chest was opened all the way through and he dropped to the ground, dead. One of the Imperial Guardsmen whistled appreciatively.

“A real plasma gun. Can’t believe you have one.” Drake grinned beneath his helmet.

“Cost me a pretty penny. But definitely worth it, I can assure you.” His earpiece crackled to life. “Hang on.”

“Drake? Are you behind the music?” asked Quill’s voice.

“Why yes, I am. Do you approve of my selection?” Drake replied.

“Actually, I was wondering...do you take requests?”

“Of course I do! What is your request?”

“Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede,” replied Quill with no hesitation.

“An excellent choice! Give me a moment.” Drake pressed another button on his wrist computer and spoke into it with an excellent approximation of a radio D.J.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that has been Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag and Smile, Smile, Smile, an old favorite from the First World War, written by George Henry Powell. And next up, by listener request, is Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede! If you would like to place a request, even if you’re on the opposing side, please, feel free to contact me.” He cut the transmission. One of the Valhallans turned to her sergeant.

“This guy’s weird.”

“Eh, could be worse. We could be fighting tyranids. Or necrons,” the sergeant interjected with a shudder.

Master Chief turned to look at the nearest PA speaker.

“Well, this is definitely something new.” He turned to his two companions. “You two don’t seem very surprised by this.”

“Honestly, I am not surprised by anything at this point,” Shepard said with a shrug. He turned to look at Vir. “What about you?”

“Happens to me all the time. What’s a battle without some good music?”

Jack Cooper shook his head incredulously as the song piped throughout the compound.

“I have seen a lot over my time in the Militia, but yet I have never been in a battle more bizarre.” He sighed and fired a burst of shots at a mercenary. “Oh, well.”

The Imperial Guard and the Apocalypse’s armsmen, led by Cain and Drake, sliced their way through the enemies ranks like a knife through wet paper. They stood no chance. Anything not eliminated by lasguns or assault rifles was obliterated by Drake’s plasma gun. Drake was leading the charge, cutting down everyone who opposed him with methodical precision. Drake turned, the eye slits of his helmet winking cerulean blue.

“Well, I think we’ve-” He never had a chance to finish, as a particularly large mercenary barreled past a corner and tackled Drake. Squeezed underneath the larger man, Drake could not get enough leverage to shove him off or hit him hard. The two combatants rolled and grappled with each other, the armsmen and Guardsmen daring not to fire for fear of hitting Drake. The large mercenary grimaced and tried to slip his hands under Drake’s helmet to try and throttle him to death. Drake reached up and placed his left hand on the mercenary's chest.

“Overcharge!” he yelled to the air. A sharp whine filled the air, then the crack of discharging electricity. The mercenary flew backwards, twitched spasmodically for several seconds, then lied still. Drake got up to his feet shakily. “Well, that was a...shocking experience.” Several of the soldiers groaned. “C’mon. Forward!” They ran through the maze of dimly-lit hallways, slaughtering anyone they met, until they got to a large room filled with computers overlooking the passageways of the basement. It looked to be a control room of some sorts, and it was absolutely packed with enemies. They seemed to realize the superiority of the Scoundrel’s firepower, and so, instead of trying to fight them bullet to bullet, they charged.

Cooper, Quill, and Gamora rounded the corner of the hallway at a run. The screeched to a stop when they saw what was happening in the large room in front of them. A massive group of enemy mercenaries were battling it out, hand to hand, with Drake and Cain’s forces.

“Well, we can’t shoot for fear of hitting our own side, so…” Quill trailed off.

“So we take them from behind,” replied Cooper. “You two know how to fight hand to hand?” In response, Gamora drew a sword.

“Well, I guess that’s a yes,” said Cooper. He looked over to see a heavily muscled woman bodily pick up and throw Drake through one of the glass panes overlooking the basement. “Oh boy. Better get in there.” They charged.

Vir, Shepard, and Master Chief emerged from the basement’s tunnels and into a pit-like room overlooked by glass panels. Suddenly, one of the panels shattered and Drake flew through and landed on the concrete floor fifteen feet below. He groaned and slowly got to his feet.

“Oh hey there. Fancy meeting you here.” Master Chief held out a hand to steady him.

“Are you alright?” Drake cracked his neck.

“Maybe. Hopefully. Doesn’t much matter. Let's get up there.”

“If you’re really O.K.”

“Yep, I’m good. What’s the fastest way up?” Shepard pointed to a set of stairs, but before he could say anything, Master Chief took a running leap, grabbed the broken window’s ledge, and hauled himself up.

“Or...or that will work.” Vir shrugged and made the same running jump at the same window. With a whir of powerful prosthetics, he made it in much the same way Master Chief had. Not to be outdone, Drake jumped for the same window. He only made it halfway up the wall, but grips built into his forearms and greaves took over and he hauled himself up. Shepard still stood at the bottom and shook his head.

“Ok then. I guess I’ll just take the stairs.”

The vast majority of the wild melee was focused near the middle of the room. There, the mercenaries desperately fought against the soldiers of the Imperial Guard. The mercenaries had thought to take the enemy off balance by charging them, a tactic seldom used in an age of automatic and plasma weaponry, but had not counted on soldiers of other universes, used to fighting in different ways. The Guardsmen had fixed bayonets, and now wielded the twenty inch blades with lethal efficiency. However, despite the Guard doing most of the fighting, it was by far the Scoundrel captains who garnered the most attention. Each fought with their own style, was a death-dealing whirlwind.

Master Chief fought with a precision that only a genetically enhanced super-soldier could. A strange, teardrop-shaped plasma sword was held aloft in one hand, and he brought it down with murderous exactness. Each stroke was backed by the massive strength of his seven foot frame, and gut through armor and bone as if it didn’t exist. He was a one man killing machine; he was a SPARTAN super-warrior. None stood in his way for long.

Ciaphas Cain used the same practical and lethal fighting style as he did in his duel with the Drev. His chainsword hummed and its teeth whirred as it cut through muscle and sinew, raising great gouts of blood into the air. In his other hand he held a laspistol, which cracked off shots at any who were beyond the reach of the deadly teeth of his sword.

Jack Cooper fought with grace and style. He danced around the enemy, using the extra speed and mobility of his Pilot’s suit. His combat knife slid between ribs and through throats, and shots from his sidearm rang out, blowing ragged holes through heads and torsos. His legs lashed out in the form of powerful kicks, still with a Pilot's grace, and landed on kidneys and knees, knocking his opponents to the ground where he finished them at his leisure.

Adam Vir fought with a spear, a most unusual weapon of choice. Nevertheless, he was just as deadly as the rest. The spear sand through the air, catching and impaling his foes. It twirled in intricate patterns, and blocked and flicked aside incoming attacks as if they didn’t exist. He lunged forward towards a panacing mercenary, twisting the spear at the last second so as not to get it stuck in the suction of flesh, then spun around to block an incoming attack.

Thomas Drake fought dirty. No trick was too low or underhanded. His left hand crackled with electricity, stunning and killing any he punched. A keen-bladed knife was in his right, and he stabbed groins, gouged eyes, and slit throats with impunity. He bellowed reactive insults while he fought, calling in to question his opponent’s lineage and stature as he charged and hacked and stabbed.

And Quill...well...he entered the room at a run, then promptly slipped on a puddle of blood and fell face first into the cold concrete floor.

The Scoundrels gradually whittled down their enemies, one by one, until there was only a small group, fear in their eyes, huddling against the back wall. The Scoundrels advanced, weapons drawn, and the mercenaries raised their own, prepared for one last defiant gesture. Then, the air shimmered and distorted, and Kirk and a group of Enterprise crewmen, weapons drawn, appeared as if from nowhere.

“Hands up,” said Kirk with probably more amusement than was really necessary. Slowly, the mercenaries lowered their weapons and put them on the ground. The Scoundrels looked at each other for a moment before Cooper broke the silence.

“Okay. That was...underwhelming.”

“What do we do with them?” asked Shepard, gesturing towards the prisoners.

“Eh. I say we just leave ‘em here,” said Drake with a shrug. The others stared at him with incredulity.

“Wait, wait...you were the one advocating orbital bombardment earlier!”

“Well, we have the thing now. No need to kill them, no need to do anything with them really. We can just pack up and go. Leave them here.” The Scoundrels looked at each other and seemed to reach an agreement.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Kirk looked over to Spock and spoke to him in an undertone.

“You know, this didn’t end that badly. None of the redshirts died!” As if on cue, one of the Enterprise’s crewmen, clad in black pants and a red shirt, fell over clutching his chest. One of the Imperial Guardsmen knelt down to check on him.

“He’s dead, sir! I think a heart attack.” Kirk shook his head.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

After the mercenaries had been herded in the basement and the Scoundrels’ forces were trailing out of the compound, Cain pulled Drake aside.

“Drake, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?” Cain looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“Those weapons. The only way you could have gotten several of them was if you stole them from the Inquisition.”

“And if I did?” replied Drake.

“The Inquisition is not an organization you want to steal from.” Cain loosened his chainsword in its scabbard. Drake smiled.

“Funny, actually. I can. You see, those weapons I found in a small hidden stash. Apparently, a rogue and very dead Inquisitor named Filidarus Calzik had hidden them on the very edge of Imperial space. No one would have ever gone for them, no Imperial would have ever found them.”

“I know of them, now that you’ve told me,” replied Cain, his hands still on his weapons. Drake laughed, the exact same laugh as when he told the Scoundrels he knew their secrets aboard the Apocalypse.

“Interestingly enough, weapons were not the only thing I found in that stash. There was also a computer. Which is why I know Calzik’s name. And, on that computer, was...an incomplete manuscript. An...autobiography.” Drake smiled again. “Your autobiography, my dear Cain.” Cain turned a shade of chalk white. “Now, consider, if you will, my dear Cain, the fascinating consequences if the contents of that autobiography were to be released to the wider Imperium. So, yes, I’m quite sure I can get away with stealing from the Inquisition. Because, no one will ever know anything is missing. And if they do, they’ll never know it was me, because everyone who knows it was me will not be saying anything about it, now will they?” With a final parting smile, Drake spun on his heel and strode away, leaving Cain in the semi-darkness of the compound’s hallway.

That’s it. Hope you like it. As per always, feel free to contact me with any complaints, concerns, compliments, questions, requests, or if you just want something cleared up.

#magnificent scoundrels #warhammer 40k #empyrean iris #halo #mass effect #star trek #titanfall 2 #guardians of the galaxy #crossover #story

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