#I wanted to do a looser kind of piece as compared to some of the others I’ve done this month

[doctorsiren]

Day 27 of Sirentober / Doctober

Eyes / Glow

I’m holding onto what I know, but what I know I must let go

Available as a print on my Etsy Shop

[dandunn]

I made an art influence map because @nblemons did it and I wanted to do it too!!

Template here

Honorable mentions/guys I couldnt fit on here: Yume Nikki, SamSketchbook, Monkey Punch, Wolf's Rain, Cowboy Bebop, Henri Matisse, Noda Satoru, Osamu Tezuka.

There are probably more but I've already spent way too long on this lol.

Wanna talk about them all briefly:

Watership Down: no duh. This movie imprinted on me from a very young age and made me way more of a furry than I already was. I always liked how realistic the designs were compared to mainstream rabbit designs which focus on the 'cuteness' of the animal. I think it's dumb because rabbits are kind of stroppy violent jerks and I like them for that.

Aboriginal Art: this is kind of related to Watership Down because I took a lot of inspiration from the intro and the almost cave-painting like designs. It took me way too long to discover that what was so grabbing about that into was that it was inspired by Aboriginal artwork! I hope this is okay to say because I'm neither Aboriginal or even australian and a lot of the cultural meaning is lost on my dumb ass, but I think the shapes, techniques and colours are wonderful. Painting I used in the pic is by Charlene Carrington

Lorne Lanning: is the main designer for the Oddworld series of games and I wish more people knew about him because his character designs and conceptual art are just fantastic and gripped me from a very young age. And he made a game where you play as a cowboy who shoots bugs at people!

Spyro reignited: dragons are hot.

Spirited Away: I love Miyazaki's entire filmography but Spirited Away really had a grip on me one particular summer in school, the same one where I learned how to use watercolour paints, and I think it had more of an influence over my art than the others for some reason. It's a very summer-y movie to me with very bright colours.

Edmund McMillen: probably more well known as 'that guy who made Super Meat Boy' I've always loved the cartoony yet grotesque imagery in the Binding of Isaac which I am about to clock in 1000 hours on on my steam account. Another game of his which really got to me was Aether from the Basement Collection. Watching his segment in Indie Game the Movie and how he translated his fucked up upbringing into fun, heartrending and addictive games really inspired me.

Animal Well: I only just played this game for the first time this year which is why I made it very small but idk what else I have to say other than 'just fucking LOOK at it'.

Frida Kahlo: I did a project on her for school which involved watching a movie about her life which was both fascinating and tragic. Her surreal art can be both bright and evocative and also downright tearjerking.

Pokemon: whenever I'm designing a character I have Pokemon in mind, say what you want about certain designs but Ken Sugimori and all the other artists who have contributed over the years really have the talents to make a cute, fearsome or oddball guy you want to go on adventures with.

William Turner: another one from my school days and an artist from my own country. I always loved the colours and sweeping brushstrokes.

Eiichiro Oda: Yeah man what can you say about One Piece. When I was about 15 and having daily meltdowns, copying the expressions on his characters really helped me figure out how I was feeling. Oda is a menace but good lord he can draw.

David Hockney: When I was also in school I attended an exhibition of his which was basically "im retired and I can draw whatever I want now" with blown up ipad sketches and these strange landscapes with fauvist colours. I thought some of it was dumb at the time but looking back I really admire his use of colours and the looser movements compared to his older work.

Masahiro Ito: Creator of Pyramid Head, Bubble Head Nurse and 'Honey Butter Fuck Toast'. The man, the legend, the 'this is fuck' guy. His blend of the grimy industrial, bloody, monstrous and sexual is so fantastic. I feel like I should also put francis bacon here because most modern horror artists owe everything to him, but god I love Silent Hill and the imagery this man created will live on in my brain forever.

[keplercryptids]

A Quick Breakdown of a Few Non-D&D TTRPGs (and how they compare to D&D)

hi it's me, your local ttrpg player and forever-GM, encouraging y'all to play something other than d&d. i wanted to share about a few ttrpgs in particular and how they compare to the d&d experience. this might be useful to some who want to try a non-d&d system with a little more guidance than "all of these look cool." i'm focusing on the three systems i have the most experience with, and i'm not going to delve into the game mechanics, but rather focus on the game experience.

also, hey!! if you learned to play d&d, i promise you, you can learn another system. d&d is complicated and often expensive, but other ttrpgs aren't necessarily like that! most ttrpgs, in fact, are much simpler than d&d and easier to learn. so don't let the barriers you may have faced with d&d discourage you from trying a new system.

Savage Worlds

experience: player in a homebrewed setting for about a year.

overview: savage worlds is a setting-neutral system, so it really lends itself to homebrewed worlds. character creation is looser and more flexible in some ways than d&d. you piece together the character you want rather than using a set class/race. i would say the biggest difference between savage worlds and d&d is what the name itself implies. the world can be savage! the dice are swingy in this game. you might be great at a skill, but it doesn't guarantee success the way it pretty much does in d&d. wins and losses tend to be bigger and more dramatic.

what i love: your "class" feels more customized to what you want. savage worlds rules can be implemented in all kinds of settings and worlds which is cool. "balance" isn't really an issue the way it is in d&d (but be prepared for those swingy dice!). combat can be deadlier in some ways, but the system doesn't rely on combat the way d&d does.

Blades in the Dark

experience: GM of a campaign for several months.

overview: blades in the dark is about a group of scoundrels, being scoundrel-y. my favorite line from the player's handbook is that you should play your character like you're driving a stolen car, and i just love that metaphor so much. blades is a game where you play bad people doing bad things (crime). you roll a number of d6s and if you get a 1-3, you fail; a 4-5, you succeed with a complication; a 6 is a total success. what this means in-game is that almost every roll you make results in something bad happening. this leads to a chaotic game experience where the pressure is constantly building until something explodes.

what i love: as a GM, i never prepped for more than 15 minutes before a session. you don't need to prep at all as a GM (either way, be prepared to improv your ass off!). the mechanics are also a delight and i know i will use some of them in most of my games moving forward (clocks! clocks are genius). it also has more of a collaborative feel than d&d. you and your players are making it up as you go and it FEELS that way, which is so fun.

Pathfinder Second Edition

experience: GM of a published adventure for just a few weeks!

overview: this is probably the system most similar to d&d. a lot of the skills, dice mechanics, spells etc will be familiar to you. if you like d&d mechanically but want more crunch and more balance, pf2e is a great option. it's definitely more complicated than d&d, but i don't think it's too complicated, if that makes sense. combat is easier to balance from the GM side and feels more dynamic in many ways at level 1 than d&d at any level. also pf2e has a sense of humor??? it's hard to describe but so many of the feats, spells and monster abilities are FUN in a way that's lacking in d&d. i plan to run my next campaign in pf2e and am excited to delve into using it for a homebrew setting.

what i love: character customization is off the fucking charts. if you're a 5e player, you'll be astounded at just how many skills and abilities you get every level-up. also, it's a game that's balanced, which as a GM i've noticed right away. combat is fun to run (i have NEVER said that about 5e lmao) and feels like you're actually playing a game, rather than giving a presentation the way a lot of 5e combat feels as a dm. every monster stat block is interesting and unique. and there's a rule for everything, which i personally like.

anyway, i hope this was useful! get out there and try a new ttrpg system, okay??

[tblsomedoodles]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

Oh let's see!

1 ) Fic wise, i'm really proud of "Proud Family Tradition". I was actually able to finish it this year, which i'm super excited about and, in general, i just love how it turned out vibe wise.

Art wise, that's a hard one. Um...I'm going to go with the "Non-cannon Leo meets Clara comic" b/c i love how it turned out. The looser render style mixed with the limited dialogue and not-overly-distinct panels look so cool together. and it helped me start experimenting with other brushes by doing so.

2 ) Probably anything with Jenny (from Family Web). For whatever reason she doesn't tend to get very many notes at all, especially compared to anything else really.

For specific things, ummm...probably My Good Omens doodle from september. I redid a panel from an old animatic of mine and I love how the whole thing turned out, but it didn't do well at all. And Maybe my Forever Alone animatic. Again, love how it turned out, but it's for an au that i haven't really done much with beyond this and a donnieverse stop so it didn't get seen as much as i would have liked. It's based on the first thing i wrote for rise (though i haven't quite posted it yet. I've got to get on that) and i learned a lot making that video. Heck, i even got a decent looking fightscene in there lol.

3 ) Only 3?? ok, i'm gonna try lol.

ok, so no particular order (b/c i'm literally just going through my bookmarks on ao3 lol)

"things that ought to Crawl" by mudlarkspur (WisteriaParfait) (AO3). A very good "Draxum finds a little feral donnie and accidentally becomes a parent along the way". Very cute. Love it. Been meaning to do some fanart but haven't gotten the chance (or courage) to do so yet.

"Minor Interference" by bambiraptorx (AO3). Basically The turtles accept Draxum's offer to train them so they can prank him while doing so and everyone starts catching familiar feelings along the way. Super cute. definitely recommend if you want some chaotic shenanigans and occasional fluff : )

oh last one...um....ummm....ummmmmmmmm........Oh!

"Rotten Reflections" by Nicoforlife (AO3). Rise Leo and Donnie end up in 12tmnt, but it's dark/suspenseful, and they're both feral and injured. Idk, i just love this fic in general. I've read it 3+ times over the last year (i don't really reread that much that quickly, so that's significant) and will be rereading again so to catch up. (i'm behind on all my reading atm. it's sad) I just vibe with it. Again, another fic i need to do fanart for but haven't yet.

(this was so hard! There's just so many i love. picking only 3 was very difficult)

Thank you!!

[pixelsandpins]

The Application of Camp in Horror Media

We’re at a stage in the media landscape where I sometimes wonder if we should ever so slightly gatekeep the word camp, if only to preserve some sense of meaning. For the sake of this thought experiment, imagine camp in your head. Further imagine camp horror, specifically.

Because we do this thing where we’ll say something is “so bad, it’s good.” What we really mean, when you break it down, is that a piece of media is bad. It’s poorly constructed. But, for whatever reason, you personally find an endearing quality to it. It’s bad but you like it. Which is totally cool. But we tend to pair this with the word “camp.”

Now “camp” is already a very difficult thing to define, and in some capacity that’s the point.

It’s a constellation of sensibilities with strong ties to queer media and queer-inspired design but not necessarily defined by it. What we’ve done in the modern day is made this very strong synonymous connection that “camp” == “bad,” reducing it to a linguistic singularity that doesn’t encompass everything that camp is.

If we look at “Notes on Camp” by Susan Sontag (1964), we see her address this at the end.

58. The ultimate Camp statement: it's good because it's awful...Of course, one can't always say that. Only under certain conditions, those which I've tried to sketch in these notes.

And we have to point out, that she only makes this assessment after going through fifty-seven other description and discussion points.

What we’ve done is almost turned the term “camp” into a shield against critique.

“It’s camp, you wouldn’t get it.”

What we fail to understand is that camp can still be “good” by any given critical measure. And just because something is camp, doesn’t mean it’s immune to its own genre conventions or exceptions. Something can be camp and that’s completely independent of whether it’s good or bad at what it does.

And when we’re talking camp horror, we see how this etymological pathway starts to wend and wind. Because let's say we look at some of these earlier notes on camp.

Sontag describes it as “the love of the exaggerated, the ‘off,’ of things-being-what-they-are-not” giving the example of Art Noveau and floral lighting fixtures. She says camp has an element of the “strongly exaggerated.” You could very easily make the argument that this is an inherent quality of horror. Of things being “just off” from reality if you want to use a looser interpretation of the note. At the same time, Sontag pairs this with the epicene and the androgynous. This ideal is not only less common, but often antithetical to what large swaths of the horror genre does. It actively uses hypermasculinity and hyperfemininity as major thematic elements.

In the second note camp is described as “disengaged, depoliticized - or at least apolitical.” Sontag is implying a preference for aesthetics vs content, and this has very interesting implications for the horror-camp relationship. One could argue that horror is almost incapable of being truly apolitical because at it’s core it’s a reflection to the fears of its time. It can’t divorce itself from the cultural zeitgeist completely. Let’s say it could, however, get very very close.

At that point we imagine a horror movie that’s all artifice and no deeper content. What movie is that? Is it your average no-brain gorefest that actually gets closest to pure camp by that element of the definition? That’s probably not the first kind of movie you thought of when asked to imagine a camp horror movie, but it would absolutely abide by the "spirit of extravagance.”

So if we utilize the concept of “camp horror” to examine camp through a horror lens and horror through a camp lens, we’re left with a much more tenuous relationship. Are we actually applying the term camp properly? Does camp take on a new form when applied to horror compared to other genres? What’s the horror version of “a woman…in a dress made of three million feathers?” Can horror actually be camp? What does camp horror actually look like?

More importantly, does the language continue to serve us?

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[the-hate-keeps-me-warm]

More than a memory

Sorry if this is formatted really horriblly I finished this up on mobile I hope you like this there’s about 2 paragraphs I cut of ruby nerding out

Once they got to Vacuo oscar was sorta unofficially a huntsman now laws are a lot looser here so he’s been saving quite a bit of money from going on missions after team rwby and Jaune came back it was weird they were only gone a month but so much had changed the merge was almost finished he could feel it every day he felt less like himself he didn’t even object when Theodore called him oz anymore he and ruby weren’t as close anymore whatever happened wherever they were changed her he got bits and pieces from Jaune and yang but the others kept quiet he knew that he’d be gone soon so he wanted to leave something for her kinda like proof that they ever met in the first place so he was now standing in a vacuan market at 12 am alone with a lot of lien on him this was probably a bad idea but at one point he heard ruby ramble about this gun shop that they were the best at what they do so he called made an appointment it just so happens they prefer to see let’s just say unofficial clients at night he knocked at the door it read “bikal bullets” it opened and an old owl faunas man opens it his large yellow eyes are piercing “hello mister pine headmaster theodore told me to expect you” oscar rubs his hands together “yes mister bikal he said to come late” mr Bikal leads him inside on the walls hang dozens of expensive weapons “so mr pine what are you looking for” oscar took the blue prints out of his bag and set them down on the drawing table “um im looking for something custom built its for a friend�� mr bikal takes the blue prints and examines them “these are pretty impressive mr pine did you draft these yourself theses yourself” oscar nods “mostly i had a little help with the math part of it but the mechanical stuff i did myself” mr bikal nods “something like this will cost a good amount even with the discount you get for being school staff” oscar nods “do you have an estimate on the price and how long it'll take to make” mr bikal snaps his teeth “around 12000 lien and 2 weeks” oscar nods he had 140000 saved up but he did want to buy some more things for the others “alright i can uh i can afford that” mr bikal goes over to what looks like a drawing table and pins them up “i will start work immediately mr pine you make your payment on completion if you desire the school has credit with me the price includes 3 magazines and a case so that will also be custom made shall you pick it up or would you prefer its delivered” oscar stands uncomfortably as mr bikal starts measuring out pieces of fine metal “ill pick it up dont worry” mr bikal nods and says “alright mister pine your can go now its not a good look for a young man to be out so late especially so close to the red light district” oscars face gets red “yes of course” oscar leaves and walks back to the academy sneaking back into his dorm room was easy tho nora did pester him about where hed been he had left a note saying when he would be back for the next 2 weeks he kept a poker face nora helped him set up his bank account so the sudden spending of 12000 lien did give her pause so she decided to ask him about it

He was sitting on his bed reading some Treatise about some long-forgotten subject she knocked on the bedpost and he looks up “hey Nora did you need something” she sat at the end of his bed “hey what did you spend 12 thousand lien on” he hides his face “please don’t tell anyone it was on something for ruby” she smiles “ah young love I was worried that you wouldn’t make your move so what kind of thing sets you back 12 thousand it’s something big right” he nods his head “its a gun i-i had it commissioned for and it’s not really cause I’m trying to make a move or anything it’s more like a going away gift” Nora frowns and shakes his leg “where you going taking a vacation or something” he feels tears bite the edge of his eyes “Nora the merge it’s soon I know it won’t be long until I’m gone and I want you all to remember me but her especially I don’t want to be just a memory” he struggles to keep the tears at bay but nora pulls him into a hug tighter but somehow softer than her usual ones “hey you will never ever be just a memory you will always be you and even if your not you'll always be one of us we all love you so much” and then the damn breaks and he sobs into her shoulder “i don't wanna go away nora i want to live i wanna go to school see my aunt again” she rubs his back and says “i know sweetie you'll get to do all that ok i promise” he sniffles “nora i need you to do something for me if i do disappear ok i need you to go back to my aunt and tell her everything ok it can't be oz ok don't tell her how to find him it won't make sense i'll just hurt worse i dont want that for her” she nods “i won't ever have to do that ok but i promise” she holds him until he stops crying and they take a a a nap they always helped him calm down

Finally, after a long 2 weeks, he goes to pick it up when he goes inside Mr. Baikal shows him the box it’s a beautiful dark red mahogany wood he opens the case and looks at the pistol inside its silvered handle and barrel were beautiful he’s almost afraid to touch it the engravings were perfect exactly as he had drawn them if not better the moon and rose he had designed look perfect he takes it gently in his hands he looks down the sights the night sights glow a brilliant carmine red he looks at the magazine even it was of an amazing quality everything down to the smallest detail was exactly as he pictured it he sets it back into the case “thank you, mister, Bikal it's absolutely perfect” Mr. Bikal smiles and nods “I’m glad everything is to your satisfaction Mr pine if you find there is anything wrong with it or you want something changed everything I make comes with a lifetime warranty the paperwork is in the case as well as a certificate stating that I am in fact its builder” they shake hands and oscar takes it home in his bag he excitedly gets back to his dorm he sets it down still in his bag on his bed now all he have to do is give it to her

He sits on it for a few days but finally decides to just give it to her oz has his reservations about this but decided that oscar deserves this to maybe say goodbye in his own way

Ruby was going on walks around shade it’s something he noticed so he waited for her to go on one of those walks it was cool in vacuo at night the air was nice compared to the oppressive heat of the day she was meandering along the walkways he followed behind her a bit the case hung heavy in his bag even tho it wasn’t heavy at all after a while she sits at an old wooden bench overlooking the gardens he approaches and she perks up “oh hey oscar are you going somewhere” she says pointing to his bag he shakes his head “do you mind if I sit” she shakes her head “no go-ahead did you need to talk, something about Theodore?” he sits down on the other side of the bench gently setting his bag between them “no uh no I just uh I wanted to give you something” he opens his bag and takes the case out holding it out to her she takes it “it’s not my birthday is it this looks really nice you didn't have to do this” ruby says smiling “well i've been wanting to do something nice for you” oscar says rubbing the back of his neck she lifts the top and gasp gently lifting it from its case “oscar this is this is amazing” she drops the magazine and pulls the slide back making sure its clear and runs her hand along the engraving her symbol etched into the left side of the grip “oh thanks i uh actually designed it myself oz helped me with the math” she looks at him her eyes wide “oscar it took me 8 attempts to successfully design a functioning crescent rose gun design is really hard how long did you spend on this” oscar blushes “the idea kinda started in atlas i was gonna ask you to help me make one so i wouldn't have to rely on my cane but everything happen and when you were gone i kept messing with the idea and i kept thinking about you so i kinda ended up designing it for you more than me eventually do you like it” ruby scoffs “oscar do i like it i love it its probably the single greatest gift anyones ever given me” he smiles wide “really that makes me really happy I was worried you wouldn’t like it” she sets it back gently into its case “really Oscar it’s amazing you have a knack for design your gonna have to show me the draft notes and everything cause this is this is amazing I can’t wait to shoot it this is wow” she chokes up and he leans down “ruby are you ok” she nods wiping her face of nonexistent tears “no worries this is just really cool and sweet and god your so amazing” he felt his heart flutter and his cheeks heat up “the guy who built it that bikal guy you talked about was just as great as you always said” she puts a hand on his shoulder “are you telling me Hephaestus bikal made this Oscar” she says seriously “uh yeah why is that bad” she kisses his cheek and squeals “oh my god your amazing this is now even better god I could die happy wait his rates are insane how did you afford this” still recoiling from the kiss he bites his lip “uh huntsmen work” she narrows her eyes “how much did this cost Oscar it had to be expensive” he shakes his head “not telling it’s a gift you don’t need to worry about it just enjoy it” she punches his arm “I will but I am going to repay you for this somehow ok” “you already did” he says quietly he says rubbing the back of his neck “ruby I don’t really know how long I have left and I would like to spend at least some of it with you I understand if you don’t I know it might make it harder when I’m gone bu-whoa” he’s pulled into a hug she pulls his head into her shoulder and holds him tight “I wanna spend more time with you too but you will always be Oscar ok oz is oz you are you” he sighs and smiles “see what I mean by paying me back”

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 4: Emelie Agreste

A Miraculous Fan-fic

Written by 

AJ Dunn

Adrien made his way through the hospital to the private wing. He hadn’t slept as he rushed out of his apartment with nothing but an overnight bag. Which, he was now carrying because he couldn’t be bothered to stop at the Graham De Vanily manor before seeing his mother. How long had she been in a coma? He was still wearing his Loashi uniform, his yi-fu. 

“Adrien,” Amelie called from the hall. “She’s been slipping in and out. The doctors want to try an experimental procedure but you have to be the one to agree to it.” She rushed her words as Adrien took a minute to process them. 

“They think they can flush her bloodstream with your blood.” Felix stepped in. he maintained his calm demeanor as Amelie babbled on frantically. “They say there is some sort of… pollutant in her system and they might be able to but we needed you here being her biological son and all.” Adrien gulped.

“Is she awake now.” he peeked through the crack in the partially opened door. He could hear the beeping of the heart monitor and the pumping of the tubes pumping air into her lungs. 

“No, she came alert only a few times since I called you.” Felix stiffened as the doctor stepped up behind Adrien. 

“Let me take your bags, honey.” Amelie snatched his bag and went to sit down in the room. 

“Mr. Agreste?” the doctor asked 

“Adrien,” He corrected “I don’t care my father’s name.” he hoped his mother couldn’t hear him. She had no idea what has been going on since she went into a coma. The things her husband did. A stone of emotions hardened in his heart. 

We would like to take a blood sample to make sure you are a match.” The doctor said looking confused as his eyes switched between him and Felix. “And you two are twins right?” Adrien let out a small chuckle in his throat.

“Cousins,” Felix said flatly

“Let’s get a sample from each of you, it’s possible because your mothers are identical twins, that you two could have reverse DNA.” Felix lifted an eyebrow. “This is very complicated but the simple explanation is, your mothers each share 100% of your grandparents’ DNA. Amelie doesn’t have the same blood type as Emelie, but they both carry the same genes, meaning you could have either or. Emelie has B, Amelia has A.” 

“So you’re saying, that even though she is my mother, I might now be a match but Felix might.” Adrien fumed.

“Or you both might be.” He looked, “You two look more alike than Amalie and Emelie.” he seemed amused at the striking resemblance between the cousins. “Come with me, I’ll take you to the lab. Adrien hated needles but at least he didn’t nearly have to strip for the phlebotomist to have access to his veins as did the sharp-dressed three-piece suit Felix. He chuckled to himself as he watches his cousin buttoning up the shirt and restoring the tie to its proper fit. It would have been so much easier if his shirt would have been a bit looser he could have lifted one sleeve up over his elbow, but no, Felix demanded his shirts to fit nearly skin tight. 

“You might as well be wearing a Cat Noir suit with how tight your suit is.” Adrien laughed

“Shut up.” Felix fastened the sleeve buttons. “I left that at home.” He lifted a smirk to his cousin who, he knew hadn’t gotten one yet as they weren’t yet on the market. Adrien’s face fell.

“How.” He demanded.

“Apparently Luka and I have the same measurements, I have the model one.” He smirked walking past Adrien. Wait that means him and Luka as well. Adrien was a bit more muscular now than his cousin, so he might not be the same size anymore. 

They walked back to the room in silence. Just outside the door, he grabbed Felix by the arm.

“What do I say to her?” he asked his cousin. Felix wasn’t run on his emotions as Adrien was. He had a more practical mind and Adrien needed that right now. Felix put his hands on Adrien’s shoulders.

“If she wakes up, you say nothing about Gabriel,” he demanded. “He was on another business trip and we were unable to reach him.” that sounded just like him too. They walked into the room. The hum of the machines and the dimly lit room felt ominous to Adrien. His heart stalled in his chest as he watched hers rise and fall. Her frail frame lay under a thin blanket with her hands crossed peacefully over her waist. With an IV in her right arm. 

He walked closer to her sitting in the chair to her left he rested his head on the edge of the mattress. It seemed like forever as they sat there in silence before a noise came from Amalie. 

“Well, you look…” Amelie smiled as Adrien looked up at her. “Nice in that what is it called?”

“Yi-fu.” he told her. “I have been made a Laoshi, a teacher.” he rested his head back down.

“What do you teach?” She continued. Amelie never was one to sit in silence for long. It made her nervous.

“Kung Fu.” Adrien sat upright in his chair knowing more questions would come.

“Ah, I see.” She looked up at him then shifted her eyes away. “You look like you have filled out in the shoulders, you must have built up some muscles.” Indeed he had. “I bet your teacher is very proud of you.” She smiled. Adrien hadn’t even told Felix yet.

“He died. Yesterday, as I sat by his bedside.” he looked down at his mother laying so cold beside him. He missed his mother, though he didn’t remember much about her except her kindness and care for him. Amelie got up and left the room after another long stretch of silence. 

“It’s been hard on her,” Felix said. “After years of believing her sister dead, only to find out…” he stopped himself knowing the direction this conversation would lead.

“Do you think she can hear?” Adrien asked. “Do you think she knows what he did to her?”

“If she can hear us now, then she could hear him then,” he said coldly. “So no Adrien, I don’t think she knows. Otherwise, she would have died of heartbreak years ago.” Hours passed in silence before the doctor returned.

“May I speak with you two privately?” they both followed him to a small empty waiting room. “There’s no easy way to say this. But you have the right to know. You are twins.” the words came out but they felt foreign as Adrien and Felix exchanged confused and shocked glances. “Your DNA is identical and you are identical twins, and I compared your DNA to Amelie and Emelie and…” 

“What are you saying, Doctor?” Felix demanded. “Amelie is your mother, both…”

“I can explain.” A shattered voice came from behind them as Amelie stepped into the room. “I…” tears began to fall down her face. “I never wanted you to find out like this.” 

“I’ll excuse you for a moment.” the doctor turned to leave before Adrien grabbed his wrist.

“My mother.” He said sharply. “Emelie, are we a match?” the doctor nodded. “Then get everything ready.” The doctor left the room. Amelie took a seat on the couch as both boys took seats in front of her. Felix weaved his fingers together as he sat upright and stiff. Adrien slouched forward his face dropping to his hands before looking up at her again. 

“You see Adrien, my husband was never home.” Her voice trembled in her throat. “Emelie wanted a child and so did I.”  Tears began to well up in her as she dabbed a hanky to her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it but because Emelie was the face of the Agreste brand he would never allow her to carry a child.” Adrien nodded as he recalled how his father controlled everything about Adrien’s life ensuring he was the picture of perfection. “So she came up with a plan because we were so good at switching places.” Adrien felt his jaw tighten. He sensed the unease in Felix as well.

“Enough mother, we don’t need the details.” Felix snapped. He sounded more and more like Gabriel and now they both knew why. “You are telling me that my father is that man who terrorized the world for his own selfish maniacal means?” Felix’s words slapped like a cold wet hand on his face. His eyes shot up to his cousin. Felix bore a look of utter horror as he realized what he had said. Adrien pursed his lips and nodded, they both shared the emotion. 

“We agreed that if it was twins, we would each take one. Or try again for another one. But we were sure, we would have twins.” right the Graham De Vanily twin curse. Every generation bore twins. Adrien hung his head. Felix froze in disbelief. 

“Why did you wait until now to tell us mother!” Felix snapped. “Were you ever planning on telling us?”

“Yes, until…”

“Until father was arrested?” Adrien snapped up. His words stolen from Felix’s own mouth. They both huffed. 

“You two have always been so much alike even now, I see so much of myself and Gabriel in you… 

“ENOUGH!” Felix stood up. “I don’t want to hear another word about that monster.” He stormed to the door. He caught himself at the doorway and cast a look back to Adrien, who looked up at him. “I’m sorry, you knew him better than I did, I am sure this hurts you just as much as it does me.” then he left.

“Adrien,” she reached a hand out placing it on his knee. He pulled away from her. “I never wanted you two to find out like this.” 

“As soon as they perform the procedure, I will return to Shanhai.” Adrien said coldly. “Don’t concern yourself with me anymore.” He stood and left the room hoping to catch up with the doctor to rush this plan of his. 

The good news was, since both the boys were a match for Emelie, the doctor could take equal amounts from each boy rather than draggin the process out over time. Taking more than a quart of blood from one patient wasn’t done. Plus, he could return and Felix could offer more in a month or so. 

“I’ll be returning to Paris in the morning.” Felix said after he once again had to remove his shirt. They sat side by side in the lab as two technicians worked on them. 

“I’ll be heading back to Shanghai tonight.” 

“So soon?” Felix sounded surprised. “I figured we could use a night out.” weird it wasn’t like Felix to consider a night out. 

“A night out?” Adrien asked curious about his thought process.

“We’ve never gotten drinks together and well.” Adrien could hear him inhale air sharply as the needle penetrated his arm. “Frankly after today, I feel like getting messed up.” 

“So you’ll need someone to carry you home.” Adrien teased. 

“That’s just it, I don’t want to go home.” Adrien couldn’t blame him, he didn’t want to go there either. “It wouldn’t be wise to get a flight while drunk Adrien, so join me.” Adrien smiled at him and nodded. 

They found a small pub and slipped inside. It wasn’t a high ranking spot, but it had beer on tap and annoying music playing off key. Adrien noticed why immediately, it was a karaoke bar. A group of girls were on stage singing an old Spice Girls song. The 5 girls sung and danced to a song about lovers and friends. Something about it reminded him of Marinette and their mutual friends from class. 

They took a table where they could see the singers and the bar, but was in the darkest corner they could find. A barmaid came around and took their orders. They had never gone into a bar like this before and had no idea what to order, so they asked for the most popular drink the house sold. 

“And some fish and chips.” Adrien called after. He felt a sudden jab in his side as he stood up. He was still wearing his Yi-fu. He went into the bathroom and locked the door. 

“You can’t drink.” Plagg said, “If you don’ you won’t be able to transform”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Adrien said.

“Drink? Or Transform?” Plagg floated in the air near him with his hands on his hips.

“Either.” He said. “Come on, we can’t leave him out there by himself in his condition.” they were brought a pitcher of beer and two drinks. Great. Felix finished off his first drink as Adrien pretended to sip on his. He waited for his cousin to not be looking then switched cups with him and poured more in. 

The waitress caught him one time while Felix was in the bathroom.

“Should I be concerned for your brother?” she said wryly. 

“He needs to drink, I don’t, but he doesn’t want to drink alone.” Adrien smiled. “I’ll cut him off before I have to carry him.” 

“What’s with the outfit.” 

“It’s a long story.” He smiled again as Felix returned to his seat. The waitress took the pictures and left to refill it. By the time the bartender made the last call of the night, it was two in the morning. Felix had drunk, danced and even attempted to sing an Elton John song. Adrien had to get up and help him with it lest he fall off the stage. He even turned Felix’s mic off so no one would hear him burping. To his surprised he must have sung circle of life rather nicely as the whole bar cheered when they were done. It was a weird choice of song but Felix was in a weird mood. 

Adrien nearly carried his brother up the stairs of the hotel to the room he rented for them. He tried to keep as low of a profile as possible. Imagine the scandal of carrying an incapacited CEO into a shady motel. He dropped him onto one bed then set his carry bag on the other bed. He pulled out a pair of shorts and went into the bedroom to change. 

The next morning Felix was already awake when Adrien scrambled out of bed. 

“What did you do?” Felix scowled before Adrien could even through back the blankets. He looked up at him confused. “We are in a shady motel. I hope to tell no one saw us come in here.” Felix was livid, but Adrien laughed. 

“I was careful, remember I don’t want to be seen in public either.” 

“That’s right, Adrien Agreste doesn’t exist, so he can’t be seen dragging a man into a motel. Never mind the scandal.” 

“Would you ratherr I had taken you home?” Adrien asked standing up. Felix’s eyes froze on him. 

“Damn put a shirt on. What are you trying to do give me a complex?” Felix darted his eyes way suddening aware of the toned ab muscles Adrien had mastered in his time with Chao Sifu. 

“Come to Shanghai, I’ll whip you into shape in no time.” He laughed. 

“I have far to much to do,” Felix snapped. “Remember who does all the work in this family?” 

“I work too.” Adrien pouted. 

“Occasionally participating in fashion competitions doesn’t count.” 

“Hey you still need to get Marinette to make me a costume.” 

“She’d need your measurements.” Felix’s mouth contorted into a hethanous smile. “And an address where to send it.” This gave Adrien an idea. He picked up his phone and dialed up Cheng Sifu. 

“Mr. Graham,” Cheng only called him that when Marinette was nearby. 

“Can you ask Marinette for a favor,” he stalled a minute, “Say a secret admirer of her work wants to commission something for her.” He filled Cheng in on the details. He agreed to ask her and let him know. 

“Really are you going to start sending her flowers too.” 

“Not a bad idea cousin.” He smirked. 

“Funny I thought we were brothers.” Felix tossed the cold hard truth at him. It was the first time either one had acknowledged it. Adrien’s eyebrows narrowed as he thought.

“We’re still cousins too.” He snorted. 

“Considering we shared the same womb, I think that trumps cousin any day.” 

“You do have a point. Brother.” Adrien dropped a hand on his brothers shoulder, “Should we schedule a press conference?” Felix stiffened with anxiety at the idea of yet another Agreste based scandal. “That’s what I thought. Let’s stick to cousin unless these thin walls have ears.” he left Felix to dress in the bathroom. He put on a plain pair of blue jeans and black t-shirt with a Red short sleeve button down that he left open in the front. It was one of his favorite shirts as he had Chao order it for him from Marinette’s online store. 

He couldnt’ use Chao Sifu anymore, so Cheng was his only other friend in China. He brushed his teeth as he heard the front door open and close. Fine, it was best they not be seen leaving the hotel just incase people get the wrong idea. He checked his phone for the return flight time. He had missed the earlier flight but he could get on the next one. He quickly booked and grabbed his bags. 

“Forgetting something?” Plagg groaned. It must have been a long night for him. Despite Adien smuggling fries for him off the table. It still wasn’t cheese. 

“We’ll check the market at the airport for snacks.” Adrien hurried out the door leaving the hotel key on the table and secured the door behind him. The housekeepers were already making their rounds as he rushed down the stairs to the street to catch a cab. 

“Hey, isn’t that Adrien Agreste.” Someone called down the street. He quickly pulled the hoodie from the short sleeve button down over his face in case they were inclined to snap a picture. He slid into the cab closing the door just in time for the fan girls to catch up demanding a photo and answers. 

“Where have you been.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“What happened with your father.” 

“The air port please.” He said but the cab didn’t move. The driver got out of the car and Adrien tried to look without lifting his head as he locked his door. 

“Get off my car, I don’t know who you think is in my car, but get off.” The cabby was yelling at fan girls who, in an attempt to keep him from leaving had actually climbed on the hood trying to get a view of his face. 

“It’s Adrien Agreste.” 

“No, it’s not, I gave Adrien Agreste a ride earlier and he was no where near this dump.” the man yelled. He got back in and put the car into drive. 

“Thank you.” Adrien whispered.

“Your brother asked me to come get you, told me to lie if anyone saw you.” the man offered back. “He also told me you’d be going to the air port and prepaid your fair.” 

“Thanks again.” 

“If’ it’s not too bold, can I ask why you two lied about Adrien Agreste being nothing but an alias for Felix Graham De Vanily?”

“You heard about that?” 

“Of course, Paris’ Sunshine boy disappears after his fathers arrest.  Only for some identical slick haired pretty boy to take his place.” He scoffed. “My teenagers were mad with rage when they watched the press release.” Adrien felt a little bad for his fans who couldn’t understand. 

“I had to do it.” Adrien sulked

“I know, it must have been hard for you in those earlier days after the incident.” If only he knew. They pulled up to the air port and Adrien got out, giving the man a smile and bid him farewell. 

The flight back to Shanghai felt like going home. It wasn’t his permanent home, but it felt right, for now.

[butgilinsky]

night swims // ks

warning; alcohol and drugs, but i think that’s it? 

summary; when your prom date ruins your night, kelce comes to your rescue.

word count; 2k

i put ks bc the fandom just kind of uses deion’s last name, if that is confusing at all. ps thank you @drewsephsmiles​ for reading this and assuring me it’s not trash, i love you bby

your dress clung to your hips, a sight that you loved at the beginning of the night and dreaded now. your leg poked out of the slit that was higher now that you were sitting. the corsage on your wrist was on its last leg, the flowers wilting and the piece around your wrist looser than it had been just an hour before. 

your hand gripped the neck of the bottle you held, the cap lost somewhere in the sand beside you. your mind was hazy, but you forced yourself to focus on the sound of the waves crashing a few yards in front of you. 

you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting in the sand at this point, but you knew that you had emptied more than a quarter of the bottle into your stomach. 

you knew it was too good to be true when the boy you’d had a crush on for months asked you to prom. though it wasn’t exactly everything you’d dreamed it would be, just a simple question while you stood at your locker after biology, you said yes. 

he seemed so genuine, and he was drop dead gorgeous, so you accepted his offer. you coordinated your dress to match his tie and pocket square, opting to buy a dress with a high slit to show off for the boy. 

you shouldn’t have been surprised when it took him less than fifteen minutes to ditch you once you got to the venue. no matter how much you wanted to tell yourself that you expected to be ditched, you didn’t expect to find him shacked up in a bathroom stall with a girl you didn’t even know the name of. you’d spent less than thirty minutes at the dance, slipping your shoes off and grabbing the side of your dress before walking back home. 

your focus on the ocean in front of you was broken as you saw a beam of light on the sand between you and the water. you followed the trail of light and smiled at the sight of your best friend walking towards you with a bag slung over his shoulder. 

he was still wearing his suit that he’d picked out for the night. the bowtie that was tied the last time you saw him had been undone, the pieces resting against his shirt. the first two buttons were popped open, and his jacket was in his hand as his shoes left distinct prints in the sand. 

the sight of kelce walked down the beach towards you brought you a sense of comfort. you’d spent many nights on this beach by yourself until the sun set and kelce set out to find you. he knew he could always find you here, sand between your toes and hair pulled out of your face while you listened to the sounds that the ocean made. 

“prom sure looks different than they make it seem in the movies, huh?” you laughed gently at the joke, watching his lips turn up as the sound reached his ears. 

“what’s all that?” your eyes fell to the bag in his hand as he closed in on you, dropping to sit beside you in the sand once he got close enough. 

“a care package.” he bumped your shoulder with his own, earning a soft smack to his bicep before he ripped the bag open. “a bottle of water, because i know you didn’t grab any when you grabbed that,” he pointed to the bottle in your hand, his attention fixed on how much was left. 

“water slows down the process, kelce.” he rolled his eyes at you but continued his sifting through the bag in his lap.

“one of my hoodies, because i know you’re going to get cold and your hatred for suit jackets is stronger than your desire to be warm.” you laughed softly and laid your head on his shoulder, eyes fixed on his hands working through the contents of the bag. 

“two joints that rafe so graciously rolled for me, a lighter for said joints, and-” he paused, hand digging to the bottom of the bag before ripping out a slightly dented styrofoam container. “a stolen piece of chocolate cake.” 

you gasped softly, looking up at the boy beside you with a wide smile as your eyes glazed over. he laughed gently and wrapped an arm around you after you took the container from him. he pulled you closer to him, kissing the side of your head as you started taking small bites out of the slice of cake with the fork he snuck into the container. 

“logan’s an idiot.” he whispered softly, feeling you relax into him.

“i should’ve seen it coming.” you shrugged gently, reaching for the bottle that sat in the sand beside you. you tipped it back, throwing the liquid down your throat before offering the bottle to kelce who sighed but took a swig anyways. 

you shared the piece of cake, though kelce let you eat a majority of it. he knew how much you loved the dessert, and that was the only reason why he snuck a piece out of the venue hosting the dance. you passed the bottle back and forth until both of you were laughing too hard at the memories you both threw out. 

you had been laughing at something that kelce brought up, reminiscing on the memory from fourth grade before a though entered your mind. your laughter died down, a sickening feeling twisting in your stomach. the bottle and styrofoam container had been shoved to the side at this point, your focus solely on the boy who sat beside you.

“why’d you come here?” you asked gently, watching the boy look down at you with a steady gaze. any ounce of a smile or laughter had faded, his gaze strong and set on you. “you got monica o’leary to go to this prom with you, why aren’t you sharing cake and alcohol with her?” 

kelce smiled gently then, one of his hands reaching up to cradle your face in it, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. his smile grew at the sight of you turning into his touch, your senses overridden by the boy who you’d known for as long as you could remember. 

“why would i want to do any of that with monica o’leary when my best girl was sitting on the beach by herself?” he shrugged slowly, offering you a smile while he watched your eyes trail his face in their glossy glory. 

your head snapped over to the ocean at the sound of a loud wave crashing. you watched the water move freely, not noticing the way kelce was smiling widely at the sight of you. he loved seeing you like this, your guard down as you took in the events around you. the beach was your happy place, and if you were happy, kelce was happy. 

you smiled widely, placing your hands firm into the sand and pushing yourself up onto your feet. you wobbled a little, laughing when kelce grabbed your hips in an attempt to steady you.

“what are you doing?” he asked through a laugh, watching you giggle to yourself as you stuck your arms out in an attempt to gain some balance in the uneven sand. 

“i want to go swimming.” kelce laughed again, half expecting you to be joking. 

but then you grabbed his hands and did your best to pull him up to his feet, only doing an ounce of the work. you turned so your back was towards him, moving our hair to the side as you asked if he could unzip your dress for you. 

kelce’s breath caught in his throat, his muscles tensing at the simple question paired with an innocent look in your eyes. you didn’t think much of it, but kelce’s fingers were shaking when he reached for the small zipper. 

he worked slowly, planning on blaming the alcohol in his veins if you asked, but you never did. you felt goosebumps raise on your skin at the feeling of kelce unzipping the material, planning on blaming the chill in the air if he asked, but he never did. 

kelce moved the thin straps down your shoulder, leaving a fire in the wake of the trail his fingers made across your skin. the dress fell to your feet, leaving you in the lingerie you had hidden underneath the dress moments ago. kelce had only ever seen you like this a few times, sometimes by accident and some times when he’d help you change after a long night of drinking. 

it was the first time he felt like he was allowed to look long enough to drink you in. though you showed a comparable amount of skin in a bikini, it felt different for kelce. seeing you in a lacy pair of panties that contrasted against your skin beautifully made his mind race, his head slightly dizzy as his eyes raked up and down your figure. 

you looked over your shoulder at the boy, smiling softly at the sight of him staring at you, lips parted and eyes glazed over. the sight brought a warmth to your stomach that you’d found yourself feeling around kelce more and more within the past few months. 

kelce swallowed, trying to rid himself of the many thoughts that were passing through his head before he met your eyes once again. his eyes dropped to your lips for a moment, snapping back up to yours before you could register the look he sent you. you smiled, a large and genuine, slightly alcohol induced, smile that brought a similar one to kelce’s lips. 

you let out a soft laugh before turning on the balls of your feet and taking off towards the water. kelce laughed at the sight of you, fingers working quickly on the buttons on his shirt. a pile of clothes sat in the sand as he followed behind you, eyes never leaving you to make sure you didn’t go out too far. 

you gasped at the feeling of hands on your waist, being lifted off of your feet and spun around in the water while you laughed loudly. you wrapped your arms around kelce when he threatened to drop you, clinging to him as you squealed in surprise. his chest was vibrating with laughter, his arms secured around your waist as he held you close to him. 

the water reached his waist, landing slightly higher on your body due to the height difference. his hands were on your back, creating a warmth that contrasted the cool water still surrounding you. your eyes locked, both of you panting softly, fully aware of how close the two of you were. 

“kelce.” you whispered softly, looking up at the boy that was staring at your lips, watching you smile at the sight. 

he hummed softly, looking back up at your eyes for a moment before his gaze fell back down to your lips. 

“kiss me.” he looked back up at your eyes again, confusion setting into his expression as he wondered if he heard you correctly. you nodded softly, smiling when one of his hands moved to your cheek. 

he brought you closer, leaning down to meet you halfway before pressing his lips against yours firmly. his lips were soft, erupting a feeling in your stomach that you had never felt before. you hooked an arm around his neck, pushing yourself onto your toes to get closer to him, if that was even possible. 

neither of you rushed through it, spending every second drinking in the feeling of having the other pressed against you. you were both painfully aware of the situation you were in, and though the thought of what this meant was poking at the back of your mind, you couldn’t bring yourself to care with kelce’s lips pressed against yours. 

you completely melted into him, thankful for his hand pressed against your back, convinced that was the only reason you were still standing. you felt yourself start to smile, almost whining when kelce pulled his lips off of yours. 

he pressed his forehead against yours, soft pants passing his lips. he smiled then, letting out a soft laugh at the situation at hand. 

“i should’ve done that years ago.” he spoke softly, not aware of the butterflies flying around in your stomach. 

“you should do it again.” 

he didn’t have to be told twice. 

[groovybaybee]

Greener - II

Greener - I

(4.2k)

cw: mentions of abuse (not this chapter and nothing too intense but better safe than sorry) also alcohol consumption

There are moments in life that conjure up intense emotion any time you think about them. Happy or sad, whenever your mind flicks through its rolodex of memories and lands on it, you feel that moment come to life. You brain must have logged every detail of that time and packed it away in the back of your brain for you to stumble upon later down the road. Your mind takes you back to that moment and brings your senses along with it. My mother always reaches for these moments in times of strife, dipping her hand into a lucky dip of ‘happy places’ and allowing the sensation to wash over her. Her favourite is a family holiday to Spain, sipping ice-cold drinks as we swung our legs in the chilly waters of the pool below us.

 Not all the moments I remember are so positive, but I feel them just as strongly. Instead, I created my own ‘happy place’ to escape to whenever I felt overwhelmed.

 I stand, waist-deep, in warm water. Waves lap around me, hugging and kissing my naked skin as I breathe gently under the moonlight. The sky above me is clear and an audience of stars shine down on me. I bare my soul to the universe and feel love and appreciation in return. The night sky watches over me as I let my eyes close, leaning my head back, chin high. My shoulders relax more than they ever have as a warm but refreshing breeze wraps around me, hugging me tightly. I hear trees rustle somewhere behind me, whispering sweet sentences to one another as the sand beneath my feet reaches my ankles, anchoring me securely to the world, grounding and protecting me from floating away.

 I let my eyes open and I am back in my kitchen. No gentle breezes or salty air. Just my kitchen, with its colourful, mismatching crockery and photographs blu-tacked to the wall. However, there is a clear change in the room since the time I shut my eyes tightly, my chest feels looser, my throat no longer feels as though it is closing, and my breathing has slowed drastically.

 Raising my phone from my side, I return to the source of my sudden panic.

A news article, forwarded from my manager, Jim, a simple ‘Didn’t know you were dating’ preceded the link to the website. Of course, he was joking, not realising the stress I was about to feel.

 Quickly clicking the link, I remind myself to breathe deep and slow as I am redirected to a webpage.

 BACK ON THE HORSE? HARRY STYLES SPOTTED GETTING CLOSE WITH MYSTERY WOMAN

Hunky heartthrob, Harry Styles, caught canoodling outside hot Los Angeles restaurant, Spago. Despite reportedly having only split with model ex-girlfriend, Camille Rowe, a mere two months ago, the pop sensation was witnessed cosying up to a new woman.

 I am skim-reading at this point, desperate to get to the end with some shred of mental stability. My eyes land on the articles singular piece of ‘evidence’, a video taken from across the street. It begins with Harry and I talking and laughing outside the restaurant, follows us as we migrate closer to one another, my head thrown back in laughter before we are nearly pressed together. I had not realised quite how close we had gotten. The video ends when Harry and I are blocked from view, Harry’s car obstructing the camera’s line of sight. No one would be able to tell we did not kiss. My stomach squeezes uncomfortably as I read the video’s caption.

 Keep it in your pants guys!

 It is all a little dramatic. A small part of me wants to laugh at the way this has all been exaggerated and made into a big deal. That amusement fizzles as I continue to read the article, pausing after reading the final line.

 All this has us wondering, has Harry really moved on so quickly?

 Good question.

 Quickly replying to my manager, I send the words ‘Blind date’, before glancing at the comments beneath the article.

 Big mistake.

 Despite the article not naming me directly, not something I am shocked or offended by as Harry is clearly the more famous of the two of us, the comment section of the webpage has not mirrored the same unawareness. Almost every comment mentions me by name, the majority questioning how we even know each other.

 I allow myself to be sucked into the vortex of curiosity, taking in every opinion possible. Many of the replies to the news make it clear that they do not know who I am, and therefore that is reason enough for me to be nowhere near Harry. A lot of comments debate whether or not Harry has fully dealt with his breakup, suggesting that this was a PR move to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. I make the mistake of googling her.

 Well I don’t think the jealousy tactic is likely to be effective.

 She is stunning. A French model. Could I be more of a cliched parallel to her? I try not to compare the two of us, however, a few comments bring attention to the bloat of my stomach and it becomes very difficult not to feel vulnerable after that. It was a blind date. Harry and I were set up. That is the only reason he would ever look at me twice.

 But he wants to see me again.

 I cling to that thought and close the webpage on my phone, pocketing it and deciding fresh air is what I need. Stepping through the patio doors of my house, I peek out into the sunshine, letting the warm rays soak into me instantly. The small house is built on a hill, the garden demonstrating this the most as it is split into two grassy tiers. I walk up the concrete steps until I reach the patio furniture at the top. Sitting myself on one of the wooden chairs, I take a second to appreciate the view; the back of my house shaded by the incline of the hill which allows me to peer over the top of my roof and look out at the hills. As a kid, I had pictured living somewhere warm enough for palm trees, now I am able to watch them arc in the wind.

 I did this, and this is far more important than a few words. I am alive, I am good, and I am kind.

 Pressing my toes into the soft, cool grass beneath me, I slip my phone out of my pocket and compose a text.

 Sat in my garden and I reckon the view would be fun to paint, fancy it?

 The soft yellowy horizon gives me a sense of security as the evening creeps in. There is so much beauty in the world and I am glad I took the time to sit out here rather than obsessing over some meaningless gossip. It will all blow over and people will either forget about us or realise that we are not actually together. A small smirk tugs at my lips as I imagine pinning this on Lucy and using it as an excuse to get a free drink out of her.

 My phone vibrates twice against the wooden table.

 I love that idea. Tomorrow work? (I’ll bring wine) – Harry

 I cannot help but grin at the small screen, quickly typing a reply.

 4pm? Catch the last of the sun that way. Also you don’t have to keep signing off!

 Only a few seconds after placing my phone back down on the table, I have to pick it back up to read his latest message.

 Sounds perfect. It’s harder to stop than you’d think – Harry

 Giggling at him, I lock my phone and set it down, excitement pooling in the bottom of my stomach. This time tomorrow Harry will be sat beside me, paint-covered and maybe a little bit tipsy. I make a quick mental note to go shopping for food to line our stomachs, not wanting to let him be exposed to my drunken self just yet.

 I spend the next day getting my house presentable, or at least as tidy as possible despite the numerous large, brown boxes which clutter my living room. I also spend the day doing errands, shopping for food and drinks Harry might like (probably going a bit overboard and buying enough options for five people rather than two), and picking up some art supplies for the two of us.

 Once home, I unpack the groceries, setting some of them out on plates and dishes, making an attempt at a charcuterie board I had seen on Pinterest the night before. Setting up the area we would be spending the most time in, I move the two small canvases I purchased earlier outside, along with paints and brushes and cups of water for rinsing. It seems a little bit amateur, but I do not have time to dwell as Harry texts me that he is just leaving his house and will be here in half an hour.

 Dashing back inside, I take the speediest shower of my life just to freshen up and rinse the day away. Chastising myself for my lack of planning ahead, I smear on a touch of makeup and quickly style my hair. I am still pulling on a pair of dungarees, clipping the straps into place, when I open the front door.

 “Hi,” I greet breathlessly.

 Harry is already smiling when I meet his gaze, looking down at me with an infectious grin. I allow myself a second to drink him in. Obviously, he is dressed more casually than two days ago, dressed in a simple but figure-hugging black t-shirt, a golden chain peeking out from underneath. Alongside them, he is wearing a pair of brown, straight-leg corduroy trousers. He looks good. It should not surprise me, but it does anyway.

 “Hi,” he offers brightly.

 Stepping aside to let him enter, I try not to check him out, mentally telling myself that I am still not certain where he stands re us kissing each other’s faces off. Probably for the best to err on the side of caution.

 Closing the door behind him, I walk us through the living room and to the adjoining kitchen, feeling a tad embarrassed by my decorating style. Splashes of colour litter the house, the walls are mostly covered in photographs, interesting drawings and potted plants.

 “When did you move in?” Harry asks, noticing the stack of boxes. My heart pangs slightly at the question but I try not to let the dread within shine through.

 “Few months now, I’m just terrible at unpacking,” It is not a total lie, so I do not feel totally bad about it. There is, however, a small part of me that resents not being completely honest with him about why a certain box remains closed and sealed. “I might have gone overboard with snacks, so please eat anything you want,” I tell him when we reach the kitchen and he sees the spread I had laid out.

 Suddenly, it all feels like too much and heat prickles my cheeks in embarrassment as I watch Harry eye the full countertops. I had bought far too much and probably seem incredibly eager. Bread touched three types of meat, touched three types of cheese, touched olives, touched sundried tomatoes. There was another plate full of fruit, washed and sliced and displayed daintily in concentric circles. Then there was the bags of crisps, pretzels, biscuits, and chocolate buttons. This was enough for a family picnic, not a light grazing, and definitely too much for a second date. If that is even what I could call this.

 “This is amazing,” Harry utters quietly, and I almost do not hear him, my internal monologue reprimanding me so severely it almost overpowers him. He turns back towards me, gazing at me softly, his face a beautiful light pink. “Feel bad for contributing so little now,” he says, a gentle teasing lilt to his voice which makes me smile, a breathy and grateful laugh falling from my lips.

 “Trust me, your contribution is the most valuable,” I say, stretching up into a cupboard to grab two wine glasses.

 We manage to carry a disproportionate amount of food outside, giggling as we stacked our arms high until I could barely see over the top of my pile. Once outside, we settle on the wooden chairs and Harry pours us each a glass of merlot.

 “Matches your hair,” he muses, smirking as he hands the glass to me.

 “Never heard that one before,” I tease, trying to ignore the voice in my head questioning if he thinks the colour is ugly.

 Harry settles back in his chair, looking out across the hills and valleys before speaking again, “This was a good idea,”

 “Yeah, the view is the main reason I bought the house to be honest,” I mumble into my wine glass.

 There are a few moments of silence. It is not particularly uncomfortable, but I decide that we could use some music. I dash inside to grab a speaker and connect my phone to it.

 “Can I leave it up to you?” I ask, holding out my unlocked phone for him to take, “I’m indecisive.”

 He lets out a chuckle, muttering a soft, “Sure.”

 Taking the phone from my hand, our fingers brush momentarily, and I have to remind myself that I am not in the middle of a romcom. I feel my cheeks redden at the interaction and quickly turn to my canvas. Placing the wooden end of my paintbrush in my mouth as I scan over the paints in between the two of us. The soft opening notes of The Chain begin to play, mingling with the warm breeze that swirls lightly around the garden.

 “Listen to the wind blow,” I sing under my breath, unable to hold myself back.

 From the corner of my eye, I see Harry picking up his own brush, dipping into a little bit of blue paint and brushing across his own canvas. I dip my brush back into the yellowy orange colour I had been mixing and paint the outline of my house. It is messy and a little childlike, but I am having a good time. Harry and I both begin to relax as we paint, singing along, and doing embarrassingly enthusiastic seated dance moves when the guitar solo plays.

 “I love Fleetwood Mac so so much,” I admit gleefully, catching my breath as I giggle and take a sip of my wine.

 “Me too,” Harry replies, a bright smile pairing with beautifully pinkened cheeks.

 “What’s your favourite song?” I ask happily, popping a raspberry into my mouth.

 Harry pauses for a moment, lowering his brush and giving the question some good thought. He makes it impossible not to admire him, watching as his brows furrow ever so slightly, lips puckering temporarily as his brain ticks over.

 “I always come back to Songbird,” he tells me, looking up at me and nodding to himself. His eyes look so bright when they catch the light, reflecting into mine. I almost have to look away.

 “It’s a beautiful song,” I admit softly, my voice quieter than either of us had expected, suddenly nervous again to be in his presence and having a conversation which means so much to me.

 “What’s yours?” Harry asks, his gaze not wavering for even a second. He is undeniably intimidating, not even due to his status in the world, but simply being beside him feels as though I have won some sort of contest. There is something in his general being that makes me feel both small and powerful all at once. Simultaneously, I cannot believe that he is here in my garden when he could be anywhere else with anyone else, nor can I believe the way he is looking at me, observing me with such delicate looks that it appears he is afraid of scaring me away.

 “Storms,” I blurt out. Taking a second to collect my thoughts, I explain, “Skies the Limit is my go-to, but Storms made me feel when I felt numb.”

 Realising that I have most definitely overshared, I quickly dip my brush in the nearest colour and spread it across the top of my canvas, accidentally painting the sky pink.

 “I think that’s really special,” Harry utters softly, his gaze still on me as I pretend to be focused on my painting and not the spectacular man beside me, or the way his eyes feel on the side of my face. “I want to make music like that, you know?” he says, turning back to the view ahead of us and finishing off his own skyline.

 “I think you have,” I confess, feeling his eyes back on me in an instant. I force myself to turn to meet his gaze, urging some sense of bravery to course through my veins. When our eyes meet, he is looking at me like water in the desert, some sort of miracle before him that his brain does not fully believe. His mouth opens, pauses, then closes again. A second later, a smile pulls at his lips.

 “I like your pink sky,” he tells me, grinning brightly, not breaking away to look at the canvas in front of me.

 I laugh, “Started as a mistake but I think I prefer it like this,” I admit, pursing my lips as I take a long look at my painting.  

 “I like the way your mind works,” Harry says, smirking when I turn to him with knitted eyebrows, “I feel like you’re so bright and full of joy. Just walking through your house felt like I’ve known you years… I don’t know if that sounds mental.”

 He looks at me cautiously, afraid he has revealed too much, and maybe he has, but I enjoy it more than I could even tell him. I like his perception of me. No matter what happens, how much he comes to learn and dislike about me, at this moment he likes me. And, oh boy, do I like him.

 The thought of kissing him pops into my head, bold and illuminated in neon. I let it pass, determined not to ruin the moment. Instead, I look at him, and he looks right back. We share a brief period of peace, the sun on our faces with a light wind blowing between us.

 “Oh!” We both exclaim enthusiastically as What Makes You Think You’re the One plays on the shuffle. Smirking at our joint reaction, we turn back to our paintings.

 For the next hour or so we fully relax into our little world, grooving along as we paint. There is a real sense of calm throughout the space, even the birds in the trees seem to chirp softer, almost as though they were part of our garden party.

 The only moment in which there is a break in the bubble of tranquillity is when Harry desperately reaches for a strawberry, stopping himself whenever his hand, covered in a rainbow of paints, gets close. Impossible to tear my eyes away, I watch him for a moment, a delicate smirk on my lips as he attempts to approach the task from a multitude of angles. He lets out a small sigh and I decide that it is my duty to intervene.

 “Need a hand there?” I ask, failing to hold back a giggle as I pluck a strawberry from the plate with paint-free fingers.

 “Thanks. Can you-- You could… Thanks,” Harry stammers while I hesitate as I raise the fruit to his face, temporarily feeling awkward about feeding a man I barely know.

 I quickly get over myself and lift the berry to his lips, already somewhat parted. Taking the fruit into his mouth whole, his lips graze my fingertips ever so lightly. Our eyes lock the second it happens.

 Things start to move slowly. My hand lowers into my lap. Harry chews the fruit and swallows, his tongue poking out to catch a stray bead of juice that had escaped from his lips to the corner of his mouth.

 No way are you letting yourself be turned on by this. So cliché.

 Despite the mental chastisement, I find myself drawn to Harry. The need to feel his lips on my own is overwhelming me. Every second spent not knowing whether he is a good kisser feels like torture, my mind in agony.

 It appears that he feels the same way, gaze hesitating over my parted lips, hopefully not focusing on my clear breathlessness. Our bodies seem to be migrating towards one another, some unknown gravitational pull guiding our chests together until out faces are almost touching. I feel his breath on my cheek and quickly I worry that mine does not smell as good.

 Why did you eat that slice of manchego?

 Surely, he won’t want to kiss me anymore. He must not have noticed yet. But he will, and I will be humiliated. Better to stop now, while for some reason he actually is not appalled by the thought of kissing you. Why does he want to kiss me anyway? He could kiss anyone he wanted. He could have anyone he wanted. It is probably the wine.

 The wine has probably stained your teeth as well. God you’re a mess.

 I stop dead in my tracks. Swiftly, I pull away from him. It is harder than I had expected, his cologne sucking me in so that it feels like I have to stop breathing in order to separate from him.

 “Sorry,” I mumble.

 I cannot look at him. Unable to face the reality of the situation and see his bemused, beautiful face. I would only want to kiss him if I did look up at him, so instead I fidget with the hem of my sleeve, nails picking away at the firm stitching.

 “I’m sorry,” Harry says, his voice is so quiet that it hurts my heart to hear him so small and dejected, especially since I was the cause.

 We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. I can feel his gaze on me, soft and apologetic, but I am still unable to bring myself to make eye contact.

 “I’d be happy just being your friend,” I tell him.

 It is a lie. Partially, anyway. Of course, I would love to be his friend, but I also want to kiss him all over and have heart-to-hearts in the early hours of the morning. I want to hear about his first kiss, find out his favourite sweets and his happy place. I wonder if he is there now, desperately trying to escape the awkward bubble of tension surrounding us.

 “Yeah, I shouldn’t have assumed… I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

 “No,” I pipe up, a well of guilt forming in my stomach as I regard his sunken features, “It’s not you...”

 “It’s not you, it’s me?” Harry says with a quirk of a smile.

 I let out a breathy chuckle and we finally meet each other’s eyes and understand. It’s all alright.

 We keep painting. By the time the sun starts to set and the water for our brushes turns a murky grey, I have finished mine and sit teasing Harry as he adds the finishing touches to his own.

 “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Harry counters with a grin as he adds a sweep of dark red to his canvas.

 “Better be some painting,” I mutter into my wine glass.

 “Okay!” Harry exclaims excitedly, “She’s done. Ready for the reveal?”

 “Yes,” I laugh at his question, as if I have not been waiting to share for twenty minutes.

 Harry had insisted that our final products should be a surprise for the other, so for the last hour we painted in secrecy, occasionally peering out from behind our canvases to try and sneak a peek at the other’s.

 When we angle our paintings towards one another, the difference in our styles is clear. Mine is bright with exaggerated shapes, almost cartoonish. Meanwhile Harry’s painting is more true to life, a meta portrayal of the view, two little figures of him and me seen from behind at the bottom of the canvas.

 “I love it,” I tell him, the picture bringing a grin to my face as I observed the tiny version of myself; a little blob of shoulders and messy hair.

 “I’m calling it ‘Friendzone’.” he tells me, a wicked smirk on his lips.

 “Hey!” I whine with a gently nudge to his arm, however, the bout of laughter he has elicited really weakens my protest.

 Harry helps me clear up the garden before he leaves, carefully carrying his precious painting out with him. After bidding me a sweet goodnight, leaving no doubt in my mind that he had a nice time today, I finish cleaning up. As I am washing the two wine glasses, I peer over at my painting, smiling as I remembered Harry’s comments about my pink sky. Maybe being just his friend would be easy after all.

masterlist

[radramblog]

Album Discussion: For the First Time

I was tossing up whether or not I wanted to keep going on the Radiohead train, considering there are still a huge pile of B-sides to go through. However seeing as there are, well, a lot of those, and I’d feel like I’d want to cover all of them to do it justice, we’re going to take a little break from that for now.

Instead, we’re going to cover something else that I’m probably not qualified for.

Black Country, New Road is one of those bands that apparently all the modern prog nerds are kind of frothing over, and for good reason- their first LP, For the First Time, is genuinely an excellent piece of music, and they have connections to black midi (decapitalization intentional) who I’ve not listened to but are also apparently quite good. It’s a challenging album in more ways than one, which is why I feel a little trepidatious trying to challenge it- so if you’re a big fan of the record, and think I’m not giving it the credit it deserves somehow, please be gentle.

With that said, A. I don’t think any of my “usual” readerbase is going to have heard of or listened to this album, and I’d like to change that, and B. I think it’s really good so I’m not really deviating from tradition here.

For the First Time is a crisp 6 songs long. But the shortest of those songs is almost 5 minutes, and the longest is almost 10, so we’re still going to be here for a while.

The first track is an instrumental, which is titled Instrumental. As with many a lyricless introduction, it serves to introduce what the album is going to sound like- a complex percussion line, building layers of guitars, and jazzy brass instrumentation. But, seeing as it’s 5 and a half minutes long, it’s definitely also its own song worthy of separate consideration.

Instrumental spends a very long time building up. Crescendo is its word, four minutes of clean instrumentation and layers before a climax that’s tense, almost panicked, many of the instruments blending together in the haze as the brass takes over the melody. It does eventually coalesce into a dramatic finale, as suddenly the guitars (I think one of them is a violin actually) and brass are all playing the same three-note progression, a surprising unity after the organised chaos that is the rest of the track.

I feel like this song is a litmus test for the rest of the album. If you like this track, if you like the tones of the different instruments, the styles being played, then you’re going to like the album as a whole- though I suppose you can’t truly tell until the vocals get introduced one track later.

From the lovely mess of the previous track, the considerably more standard opening of Athens, France is a bit of a comfort, though said opening does have this guitar tone that I utterly adore. This is also, however, where we get into the lyrics of this album, and they’re a somewhat complicated subject.

A couple tracks on this album were singles released long before its debut, and my understanding is that Athens, France is one of them. With this delay came reworkings of many lyrics, heavily changing themes and implications behind the songs themselves, which is directly referenced in Athens, France’s second line.

The other thing is that the lyrics on this album are intensely personal, and this one’s no exception. Considering how utterly stark some of them are, and the clear anxiety surrounding their writer, Isaac Wood, it’s not surprising that some of them would end up changing, as he might regret putting that much out there, or be ashamed of how people pick songs apart for meaning nowadays. I don’t really want to be that guy, seeing as the lyrics were changed for a reason, but I only know the difference for the fourth track, and I do want to discuss that because it mostly just hammers the point in.

Anyway.

Athens, France is one of the album’s quieter tracks, spending a long time in this very low mood, carried by the lyricism that somehow manages to be quite literal and word-salady at the same time. The track has builds, but the air is let out of them relatively quick every time, with this just depressed sort of tone. The guitars aren’t as layered, the brass is quieter, you get the idea. For that reason, it’s one of my less liked songs on the album- not because I don’t think it’s good, but because that’s generally not what I’m looking for when it comes to proggy/experimental music.

We move on now to Science Fair, a track that starts on this almost menacing percussion that doesn’t let up throughout the whole song. It stays on this disquieting instrumentation for such a long while, as the lyrics make the song sound like a mental breakdown in progress, as the guitar gets louder and more distorted, as the brass comes in and just starts losing its mind getting faster and faster and faster and it sounds almost like a horror soundtrack and-

Then there’s, uh, a synth? The track gives you this chance to breathe as the second verse comes in, and it’s a much needed one. Especially as the same effect is effectively happening in said verse, but with additional elements added in, music swelling to this insane peak as Isaac is flat-out yelling. The climax of the track is just this incredible, cathartic release, one that is as harrowing as it is satisfying. The tenseness from the rest of the track is blown through, bubbling over as the lyrics have completed their mental breakdown and our perspective character is getting the fuck out of dodge.

I worry that my commentary on these songs is simultaneously too objective and too literal. This is not something I’m really good at, I’m not sure how to get my opinions in here, especially when it’s a track like this- one that on paper sounds kind of upsetting, but is genuinely really cool and I like it a lot. There’s someone in the youtube comments for the music video comparing this track to the Tunnel Boat Ride from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and I find it quite hard to disagree with them.

Anxiety in music represented this way is not something that’s for everyone. I think the best comparison here is to You Won’t Get What You Want, an album I’ve [discussed previously], and found similarly hard to convey. These songs are patently excellent, and I love them, and they’re a form of music I think needs to exist, but considering their nature and how intense they can end up, I totally understand not wanting to hear it. They’re a lot, both sonically and emotionally, and that’s an easy turn-off for people.

Track 4 is Sunglasses, the one I know the difference between album and single the best (as in, I know it at all). The instrumental of the single version is rougher, and the intro’s about a minute shorter (not that that tends to make a difference in a track this long), but the album version’s lyrics are significantly toned down.

I’m going to get this out of the way, in part because this is actually my favourite song on this album. The lyrics on this are still incredibly revealing, even as “nerfed” as they are- the song is very much about feeling protected, comfortable even, behind a pair of sunglasses, hiding his gaze as he’s attempting to escape his relationship with a rich girl, one that was set up in Athens, France and Science Fair. The bit that is less clear with the rewrite is the abusive nature of the relationship- the line “leave your Sertraline in the cabinet” is kind of left abandoned as a result. I’ll let you seek that version out if you want the gory details, I suppose.

Sunglasses is pretty clearly divided into two sections. The first is the very calm, almost tragic tale of getting lost in this relationship as it falls apart, with these little lines that sound almost beautiful behind all the angst and pain- like reminiscing about what could be. This section is driven away by the intensifying instrumentation, with the beat eventually slowing to a crawl and falling apart completely and eventually neatly dividing the track.

The second section is the most intense portion of the entire album, I think. The lyrics are barely controlled panic at best, the instrumentation slowly building once again towards this explosive verse. The vocal performance for this part of the song shows such an utter emotional rawness that it’s hard not to get mesmerised by its power, even as the lyrics don’t make a huge amount of sense at first. Seriously, hearing “Leave Kanye out of this!” and realising how much it sounds like an actual argument somebody was having transplanted directly into lyrics was kind of a trip.

I don’t know how to explain it, but I just love this track. There’s so much pure energy and emotion laden into it, the two sides of this relationship crumbling down, the nostalgia and frustration and the anger and anxiety. It’s a lot, but its great.

The fifth song is Track X, possibly the softest song on the album. There’s a current of tension carried by the violin in the background, though the chill guitar and almost bubbly saxophone keeps the mood relatively lighter. It’s more relaxing, it’s got background vocals going oooooooh, it feels much looser.

As a result, I don’t have as much to say about it. I think this track is much easier listening than anything else the album has to offer, which is reflected in its much higher spotify listen count, but it means I have less room for it in my heart. When I’m listening to an album like this, I really want to be in to it, to feel it- and it’s kinda harder to do that with this sort of song.

The final track is the similarly mysteriously named Opus, the track with perhaps the most Prog Energy going into it. There’s fast looping guitar lines, elements coming and going, and some serious time signature shifts. This is the track that’s most like, say, a Thank You Scientist track- wait have I not talked about those guys on this blog yet? How the fuck.

Opus is a mix of fast, chaotic instrumental sections and extremely deliberate and dreary lyric parts. Lyrically, it’s the closest thing to catharsis the album gives- an acknowledgement that it’s all over, tinged with the regret of writing about these emotions in the sudden hit songs- after all, that means he’s having to relive them on stage every single time.

The catharsis does somewhat carry over to the instrumental, I feel. The drawn out, staircase-like brass feels like the album coming to its final rest. Of course, there’s a bridge in the way of that actually happening. The wailing and repetition of the final lines feels like this breakdown finally ending, the whole thing coming to a frustrating close. The things this album is about don’t fade so quickly, as the final notes of the song imply- it’s still there, softly creeping, waiting to build up and explode again, when you least expect it.

Uhh that’s everything I guess. Album’s great. I’m sure I’m not saying anything that hasn’t been said before by a smarter person, but For the First Time is an incredible piece of work for such a new group to put together, let alone the sheer weight of its emotion. I frankly don’t know how they could follow this up, because nobody makes this kind of album twice. Even if you somehow can bring this kind of power and pain to bear a second time, there’s absolutely no universe where that’s a healthy thing for you to do.

So I’m excited to see where Black Country, New Road goes from here. I can only hope it’s as good, but anything remotely approaching this level of quality would still be a successful work, in my opinion. It is ultimately still a niche within a niche, but it’s managed to catch enough critical acclaim to grow beyond that, so maybe…just maybe.

God okay next time I should talk about a lighter album. 9 Radiohead albums and then this? I should find something happier to talk about next week.

[tokyogirlylove]

Hey umm 👉🏽👈🏽 I know you guys are not here for that I swear I'm working on the AU but I kinda wanted to show you some of my doodles? I made some South Park love childs? I kinda want to do something with it in the future but probably not on this blog

Noa (15) and Abby (10) Marsh-Broflovski

When Stan and Kyle got married they decided to mix their family names together.

Noa: He's a goth, but doesn't necessarily hang out with other goths and prefer his friend group (Sophia, Cassia and Violet). He likes to act serious but is actually super nice, especially to his sister

Abby: She's kind of a crybaby, she's afraid of everything and is ALWAYS in her dads' arms or Noa's. She has a bunny plushie from her best friend (Basil) that she carry at school. She's Stan's princess.

Sophia (15) Testaburger and Susan (17) Turner

Cartman got married with Wendy and she insisted on keeping her name. When they had Sophia they gave her Testaburger. When Sophia turned 14, he discovered he has an older daughter, Susan, he had with Heidi before getting married.

Sophia: She had been raised like she's the most important person in the world. She ALWAYS get what she wants and everyone at school is scared of her. She's the scariest feminist, and social justice warrior in the whole town, ans crush her enemies with her bare hands.

Susan: She's really calm and the whole opposite to Sophia when it comes to their personalities. Sophia hates her and that saddens her a LOT. She feels rejected by her sister and even tho Cartman loves her, she feels like she can never be part of his life.

Cassia, Violet (15) and Basil (10) Mccormick

When they got married, Butters cut his parents completely out of his life and choose Kenny's name. He was scared his parents might do to his eventual children what they did to him. The Mccormick kids were raised with extreme love and CARE for familyhood, to offer them what Leo and Kenny never had

Cassia and Violet: Very popular at school, everybody loves them, they're pretty, extremely nice, caring and always smiling. BUT they might have been raised by Mysterion, but they got raised by Professor Chaos too. They can be PITYLESS and HARSH when they want. If they wanted, they could be the biggest villains of the town and have everybody at their feet. That's why they're super close to Sophia.

Basil: À pure angel! He's FASCINATED by everything, super curious and adventurous. His sisters love him to DEATH and is always found pampered and cuddled by them. He's his sisters' biggest treasure.

Cosmo (17), Orion (15) and Nova (10) Tucker

Cosmo: He got anxiety from Tweek which gives him massif anxiety attacks most of the time. You can find him staring intensity at a wall, that means he's having an attack. Tweek blamed himself for years and because of that, Cosmo tries to act tough and neutral like Craig for his parents and his siblings.

Orion: He's a fucking WEEB. His room looks like comic con, he even has these damns hug pillow with his waifus on them. Craig HATES it and think his son is a looser, but as long as he's not into YAOI he can deal with it. He did try to disown him once when Orion showed his preference for bunnies instead of Guinea pigs. Orion has 0 interest in real girls and spend his days drooling over his waifus. Yes he likes Hentai.

Nova: She's a Lil shit. She's exactly like Craig's sister to which Tweek pointed it out once (Craig: How DARE you compare my DAUGHTER to that piece of shit). She always try to annoy the shit out of Orion and steal his fake katanas when he's not here. She makes fun of his passion ALL the time.

Lucas (15) Black

Lucas: He's SO shy and awkward all the time. He's Orion's best friend and is the best student in school. Always have the best grades, he feels like he needs to push himself all the time for his Dad, and to be worthy of his heritage, even tho Token keeps telling him that he doesn't need to prove himself and just be a teenager. His shyness FRUSTRATE Clyde because he was the total opposite when he was a kid, and Token keeps scolding Clyde about it. He also have a MASSIVE crush on Violet Mccormick.

[bixbythemartian]

Masks: A Journey

Okay, let me preface this by saying I am well aware I could have just looked up a pattern that worked better. I didn’t need to do this. It was fun, though.

So, here’s the thing. I don’t go out that often and when I do I’m not gone long. I work from home, and so I mostly go to the store about once a week. Sometimes I go get a slurpee now that we have slurpees in Oklahoma. I made some masks for myself that are tie on, but I’m finding them to be kind of a hassle. I don’t like tying them across my hair, I don’t have a/c in the car so often I’m putting it on in a hot car before I go into the store, and tying my hair into it. It is TOTALLY a minor complaint, but it is also one I felt I could do something about, so I started tinkering with patterns.

This gets a lil image heavy, so we’re going under a cut. (There are image descriptions.)

As a note, all masks are made of some variety of cotton (some are cotton bandana material, some are quilting cotton) and the ties and loops are all t-shirt material- literally off a t-shirt I sacrificed to this cause.

This is my basic mask, I like the way it fits (more or less), I just wanted ear loops rather than having to tie it on. I knew from making a mask from this pattern for a friend who wanted ear loops that this pattern does a weird foldy thing at the ear with ear loops. I don’t want that, I am making these myself so I wanted them to look right. (Also, I know there’s wrinkling going on, I don’t own an iron at the moment. I’m making do.)

(Also also- I don’t use bridge wires, which would probably made some of this easier? But I want them to be rewashable and sturdy, and my experience with underwire bras tells me that wire and boning weakens fabric more quickly. At some point I’d like to come up with a jewelry type option that clips on the outside, but I don’t know how feasible that is and I can’t figure out where I put my wire so it’s gonna have to wait until I find or buy wire.)

I’m aware I could have just made pleated masks, but please understand that I fucking hate doing pleats. If they’re not even I get upset about it. They’re never even.

[ID: a white cut out of a mask pattern, the bottom right coming to a right angle and the front of the mask curved up to a point. Wood background.]

[ID: A light blue mask with a vaguely floral pattern and splotches of darker blue. Mask is held sideways by me, the black ties drop off the side of the mask off the bottom of the picture. White background.]

[ID: White person with long purplish hair in low side ponytail wearing mask in previous image, front on. The mask starts below the top of the ear and rises up over towards the bridge of the nose in the center, and tucks under chin.]

[ID: Side angle of previous image. Mask is clearly somewhat loose on bridge of nose, and tight under chin.]

[ID: Same figure and mask as before, from a top down angle over the forehead. mask is gaping somewhat near the nose, but fits the top of the nose and where it touches at cheekbones.]

I knew from making a mask from this pattern for a friend who wanted ear loops that this pattern does a weird foldy thing at the ear with ear loops. I don’t want that, I am making these myself so I wanted them to look right. (Also, I know there’s wrinkling going on, I don’t own an iron at the moment. It’s on the list.)

(Also also- I don’t use bridge wires, which would probably made some of this easier? But I want them to be rewashable and sturdy, and my experience with underwire bras tells me that wire/boning weakens fabric more quickly. At some point I’d like to come up with a jewelry type option that clips on the outside, but I don’t know how feasible that is and I can’t figure out where I put my wire so it’s gonna have to wait until I find or buy wire.)

My first attempt is not pictured, because by the time I thought to take pictures I had already started disassembling it to remake.

I made the mask as I usually would, with ear loops instead of ties, and then darted it after I sewed it together. It wasn’t great, tbh. It also made the mask non-reversable, and one of the things I like about these masks is that they can be reversable- I can put one type of fabric on side and another on the other side, so you can get more versatility in looks and colors. (I don’t always, but it’s nice to have the option.)

I thought that perhaps it would be better if I darted the pieces before I put the mask together, as I thought the bulging at the sides was the fault of darting last. So my second attempt was to insert darts before I put the whole thing together. This is using the same pattern piece as I started with.

[ID: Burnt orange mask held front facing down, with a dart in the ear side, black ear loops pointing up. White background.]

[ID: Same mask as previous image worn on white person with purplish hair in low side ponytail. Image taking facing front of person. Mask is bulging somewhat at the sides.]

[ID: Profile of same figure as prevoius image. Mask is bulging where the dart is evident, and clearly lifted away from bridge of nose.]

[ID: Top down from front of forehead of previous image, mask is clearly gaping badly around bridge of nose and cheeks.]

Not ideal, as you can see. The darts didn’t seem to help with the weird bunched look, it somehow ended up fitting too loosely at the bridge of my nose? Fit fine under the chin, so it wasn’t the amount of ear loop I had. I suspect it was because I set the dart so far towards the bottom, perhaps if I’d put it more middling that would have been less bad.

Also you can see that I’m about as good at putting darts in as I am at putting in pleats. Meh.

Next step was to take the pattern and alter it.

[ID: white paper pattern of a mask with a curved front and the side is at a right angle. There is a pencil marking visible starting about 2 centimeters from the ear side of the mask pattern to the bottom of the original front of the pattern.]

The pencil line at an angle near the bottom was the new bottom of my pieces. Reasoning that the shorter sides would make it adhere to the face better, I set about it.

[ID: burgundy colored bandana style paisley pattern mask is held with front facing down, back loops up.]

[ID: White person with purplish hair in a low side ponytail wearing the burgundy bandana mask facing the camera. The mask bulges towards the ears and fits loosely around the jaw.]

[ID: profile shot of previous image. The gaping at the ears and looseness around the jaw is more evident in this image.]

[ID: Top down of previous image, the mask fits around nose and bridge a little more loosely than the first mask but much better than the second.]

As you can see, I’m having the gape problem I mentioned the first time around. Not a great fit around the chin, either. I actually lost ground on this one, which is frustrating because it turns out that burgundy is very flattering with my eye color. Sigh. Okay, so my next move was a lil more extreme. Breaking the mask into pieces.

[ID: two pattern pieces cut out of white notebook paper. The fronts of the mask are curved and where they fit together would be a sharp angle.]

[ID: Multi color house and home themed fabric in the mask- the patterning is difficult to see due to the mask being pieced together in smaller pieces, but the coloring is as follows: white background with gray, teak, dark blue, burnt orange, and yellow. The mask is held front up with black ear loops pointing down.]

[ID: Front facing image of person with purplish hair in low side pony tail in mask described in previous image. the mask fits under the chin but seems looser around the bridge of the nose.]

[ID: profile shot of previous image, the mask sits notably lower on the nose and has a slight bunching/gaping issues towards the ear.]

[ID: Top down shot of previous image, mask clearly not touching the bridge or cheeks at all.]

okay so it fit really snugly under my chin but not at all on the bridge of my nose, plus it was honestly kind of a pain in the ass to make. The kind I normally make are easy, so that’s frustrating. (I know the ear loops look too long on this one, they’re actually being stretched out because it fits so snugly around my jaw that it was dragging the mask down my face.)

I felt like I was kind of onto something with the burgundy bandana mask, though, so I did the same thing at a more extreme angle (no image of the pattern because I honestly kind of winged it, but it was like an extra 1.5 inches off the ear side of the mask).

[ID: Gray mask held front up and black ear loops down. This mask has a much shorter side compared to other masks, but the front is the same as others.]

[ID: White person with purplish hair in low side pony tail wearing mask from previous image, facing camera. Bottom seam of mask is visible and clearly not tucked under chin at all.]

[ID: Profile shot of previous image, the mask is much more visibly going straight down off the face and not tucking under.]

[ID: Top down shot of previous image, the mask fits similarly to first mask around bridge of nose and cheekbones.]

It just points straight down. But it fits better at the bridge of my nose, and doesn’t gap at ALL on the sides by my ears.

It was at this point where I gave up for a few hours, complained about it to my roommate, made myself dinner, thought about the rest of the piece of chocolate cake I bought earlier today, ate some watermelon, complained about the masks to my roommate again, and then decided that I wasn’t done.

I really felt that I was onto something with the burgundy mask and the gray mask, but I needed to curve the chin in more sharply so it tucked underneath my chin.

[ID: mask pattern on white notebook paper, front side up. The front curves more sharply towards the right side of the image, what would be the chin area of the mask,  and the angle at the bottom right is fairly oblique.]

[ID: Multi-color pattern mask held, front side down with black ear loops pointing up.]

[ID: Front facing shot of person with purplish hair in a low side ponytail wearing mask.]

[ID: Profile shot of person in previous image, the mask clearly tucks under the chin at the front.]

[ID: Top-down shot of person in previous image, where the mask touches the bridge of the nose and the tops of the cheek.]

So, I did not run through the house screaming eureka because, again, I could have just looked up mask patterns and found sixty.

In my defense, however, the reason that I have been using this mask pattern is because it fits my weirdly long jawline. I chose it in the first place because my step-mother made it for my dad and it fit him. I came by this jawline honestly, so if it fit my dad’s face it would fit mine. (If you have been wondering if the angle is weird or if I do have a really weirdly long jaw, the answer is yes.) I didn’t want to grab a pattern that would work if I didn’t have an odd jawline, so I worked off a pattern that I knew suited my facial structure.

Now, this mask would not be ideal for wearing long term. Because it fits my chin tightly and the bridge bridge of my nose a little more loosely, it would migrate downwards. I am considering fiddling the curve towards the top of the pattern so it’s a little more curved and fits more closely to my nose. Now that it fits snugly under my chin, the looser fit at the bridge of my nose is much more obvious. I may drop the peak of the bridge and pull the curve in a little more sharply towards the top. I doubt I can do anything to keep it from migrating down without involving metal wire, but it’d be nice to close the gap a bit.

All in all, I have found this journey fairly satisfying. I forgot how much I enjoyed messing with pattern making. While I wasn’t starting from scratch, that was mostly out of a desire not to reinvent the wheel. I had a pattern that mostly worked and wanted to fit it better to the way I use masks. And because the pattern I ended on is smaller than the pattern I used in most of my other masks (except the 8 piece mask) I can pick them apart, re cut the pieces and sew them into the better fitting mask.

I may update this if I decide to fiddle with the nose a bit.

[gamearamamegathons]

Megami Tensei II: Devil Bustin' Makes Me Feel Good

Circe here! After an exhausting trip through Majin Tensei, we're going back to the main series with Megami Tensei II. Now here's the thing, there's two versions of this game: the NES original, and Kyuuyaku Megami Tensei, an SNES remake where the first two Megami Tensei games are bundled together. A fan translation of the SNES version exists, but the NES version has never been translated, officially or unofficially. So guess which version I decided to play! Ultimately, I figured that this would be good practice for eventually tackling the games that are exclusively in Japanese, which I'm going to want to tackle eventually, if only because they're among the most obscure and under-explored titles. It does mean that my grasp of what is going on might be a bit...looser than in other games, but hey. It's an experiment.

Megami Tensei II takes place in post-apocalyptic Tokyo, after a nuclear war. We're just an ordinary person living in an underground shelter, chilling with our friend and playing a video game. That's right, Megami Tensei II opens with a game within a game, known as Devil Buster. In the game, you play through a simplified recreation of the Tower of Daedalus from Megami Tensei, although this time we're navigating in a top-down perspective. Inside Devil Buster we get a chance to learn how to play and fight demons, which is pretty similar to how things work in Megami Tensei. Also like Megami Tensei, it unfortunately takes quite a bit of grinding before you can safely walk more than few steps into the dungeon.

From here, you can actually quit the game and wander around the shelter if you want. If you do, though, your friend urges you to defeat the Minotaur, and, not wanting to get confused by wandering off the intended path, I didn't bother poking around too much.

I think you're supposed to recruit some demons at this stage, but I found it easier to just go to the Minotaur and beat him down. He has much less HP this time around, so it wasn't all that tough. Also, I feel that I should note that this is the first game to feature the work of Kazuma Kaneko, whose demon designs have appeared across the series all through the present day. The original Minotaur had a pretty doofy design (which didn't make it into the blog, oops) so I think this is a considerable improvement.

Defeating the Minotaur frees Pazuzu, a real demon who had apparently been sealed inside the game, and who emerges from your computer into the real world. This is where things get exposition-heavy, and I should note here both that my understanding of the Japanese text is going to be a bit sketchy, and also that I don't want to focus too much on plot recap here. The upshot is that Pazuzu claims to be a messenger of God, and explains that the nuclear war tore open a portal to Hell, and you and your friends are the saviors who will rid the human world of demons. He gives you a demon-summoning program and sends you on your way, and by the way you don't have much choice because demons are invading the shelter now okay good luck have fun.

And that's where we leave off, having absorbed probably more plot than in the whole of Megami Tensei. Now, I haven't had much opportunity to do critical analysis of the games up till this point, being almost entirely devoid of plot as they are. But I want to take a moment here to pick at the interesting way that Megami Tensei II opens. It's not entirely unusual to have a game that features a recreation of an older game in the series as a sort of easter egg. I'm pretty sure that in one of the newer Doom games, you can have Doomguy go play the original Doom. I think the subtext here is pretty easy to understand: the old is subsumed by the new; Doomguy exists in a world so much bigger and richer that the original game could be played inside it. For something with a similar vibe, take the opening of Donkey Kong Country, which basically makes this idea explicit. We see Cranky Kong playing the original Donkey Kong theme on an old phonograph, and then Donkey Kong busts in playing a rock version on a boom box. It's not hard to interpret: that was the old shit, this is the new shit, it's way cooler and better.

What makes Megami Tensei II unusual is that the game it's comparing itself to is its immediate prequel, a game that was released three years ago on the same system. That game that you just played, it seems to say, is just a piece of fiction in this new world. Why would they take this approach? I think there are a couple reasons. For one, Megami Tensei II is a big leap forward in the series's storytelling. We're seeing ideas introduced that are going to shape the series in huge ways over the long term, much moreso than the simplistic dungeon crawler that Megami Tensei was. But remember also that Megami Tensei was based on a series of novels. Megami Tensei was already kind of a loose adaptation, and Megami Tensei II seems to be almost deliberate in its severing of what weak connection remained. No references to the protagonists Nakajima and Yumiko exist, and the game establishes that it's its own thing with its own identity. And I think that's important for what the series would eventually become, essentially a self-contained set of games with no reference back to its source material. Consider that by the time of Shin Megami Tensei, the game that one might consider the 'true' start of the series, the messy association with the original novels has already been cleanly cut away. This game, it feels, was made from the start to pave the way for greater things.

[eve-context-log]

essay on yve’s tang and rene magritte (W.I.P draft)

The artist I have chosen that really does inspire my work is the French born artist Yves Tanguy who was a surrealist painter who was and is well known for his abstract landscape pieces that just make me happy looking at? He has a very unique style of painting which was unusual for the time and was completely different from other surrealist art at the time. Yves didn’t start off wanting to do art, like most of us he kind of floated around in life not knowing what to do, he joined the navy in 1918 and afterword’s into he took up jobs until he came by a painting by the artist Giorgio de Chirico and was deeply inspired by It and was inspired to become an artist due to it. He got right away to painting, fully being absorbed right into it like it was his calling he was waiting for. He would only work on one piece at a time which could probably be due to how small of a studio he had at a time which would only have enough room to work on one piece. He was introduced to the surrealism style by his friend prevert showing him the work of many surrealism artists who revolved around André Breton.

 His style is very unique and distinct, a far departure for what other surrealist artists were doing at the time, his pieces show off mostly empty vast landscapes that are mostly occupied by nonsensical objects that maybe act as a metaphor for the brain. The brain is normally shown to be a calm desert so maybe these objects represent thoughts? He uses a very limited colour palette in his pieces, mostly consisting of normal colours for the sky and sand but more unnatural colours are used for the abstract objects so they stand out way more than the desert its self. Due to these colours, they stand out way more which is good as the abstract shapes tend to be either small in the background or super close in your face with the angels he paints. He either paints his objects as very loose, fabric like making them look like draped cloth and in contrast he paints a lot of objects also that are ridged with very strong looking structures that make them appear almost like concrete or clay. What he does with these shapes is very unusual, with his cloth like shapes he tends to make them either bend in the non-wind almost like they’re stretching to the heavens and with the ridged shapes he tends to leave them as is most of the time which helps contrast form between the both of them.

 The colour in his pieces is also placed oddly too, most of the time there’s one colour almost bleeding into another, for example: in the piece Through Birds, Through Fire, But Not Through Glass 1943 he tends to make the orange red in the highest top object slowly shift into a bright yellow which is just subtle enough that you don’t notice on first glance but really start picking it up when you look closely. He tends to go for very heavy shadows, not adding much in the ways of transitioning into the darker parts of the shadows, he literally just tends to block in a thick layer of black to empathise his shadows which allows them to appear almost like a second object in itself. He paints a lot of sky’s in his backgrounds, I’ve noticed he really tends to like painting in fluffy light clouds or either a very slight fog which you also might miss on first glance but they help create both a calm relaxing atmosphere for his pieces but also a mysterious type of ambiance like anything could be hidden in that fog. I’ve just noticed he goes with the three main colours way of kind of selecting a colour palette, for example in one piece he will use faint blues, yellows and reds are his three main colours which has been a common reoccurring element in his pieces. Some of the objects he paints will sometimes not follow the laws of gravity and just float, this really helps further the dream motive of his pieces, almost like these objects are floating off into the white abyss above almost like a passing memory. Another thing that also helps with the motive of these objects trying to reach the great above are the objects that are the objects that seem to have a ton of blob like webs that almost look like they’re climbing up the structures and assembling into their own version of that object.

 Another surrealism artist that I like is Belgian born artist rene Magritte. Rene was a surrealist artist who was mostly known for his lighter more humorous pieces but also his more down to earth pieces which helped people think on issues and often depicted regular objects in strange areas. Rene has had a harsh life, when he was 14 his mother committed suicide by drowning herself in the river, this wasn’t the first time she attempted suicide. His early paintings which where around 1915 where in an impressionistic style, a style which was characterised by thin, small yet visible brushstrokes which often showed off a normal subject matter which is of course a huge polar opposite for what surrealism is and is what surrealism is agents. He moved from movement to movement a lot, going for more abstract movements with each change like, impressionism to futurism to cubism to then finally settling on surrealism which was the most abstract of them all. He starts surrealism painting when in 1922 he saw the reproduction of the painting “the song of love 1914) which brought rene to tears, he stated this was “one of the most moving moments of my life: my eyes saw for the first time”.

 He paints a lot of surrealistic stuff, he’s mostly well known for the portraits he would do with the objects covering a person’s face; however, he also created a lot of lesser-known abstract landscapes which often depict a lot of nature. He uses a lot of blue greens and browns to create a very earth like piece, he uses a lot of earth like imagery in his work which creates a much more intense dream like feel with his use of the vivid blue sky and soft fluffy clouds. He tends to focus on one main subject when he’s painting his surrealistic pieces, for example his most famous piece a man’s face being covered with an apple or a Boquete of flowers that’s ends are actually a bunch of old-fashioned pipes. With his pieces of people with they’re faces covered it might be referring to the fact that the brain cannot make up peoples faces when dreaming, we always have to see someone even for a second to see them in a dream so these pieces could maybe represent the unconscious brain trying to make up a face on its own. He uses a lot of clouds in his pieces to further the dream motive, they help his pieces also look a lot calmer despite all of the abstract pieces in his paintings.

 He tends not to add a lot of visible brushstrokes to his pieces, he opts to make pieces with thick well blended paint to go for a more realistic feel to contrast the abstract with the more realistic style of painting he goes for. The brushstrokes that he makes visible is to add texture to objects like rougher brushstrokes for bricks and lighter drier brushstrokes to help empathise the fluffy clouds he’s going for and even drier brushstrokes to help empathise the dry dirt and sand he paints. He’s very hyper detailed with how he paints, even for most realism artists he really pushes himself, for example he adds the tiniest of bumps and cracks in order to make a huge rock painting and the tiniest pieces of disturbed sand in one of his landscape pieces to add just that little more life to his work.

Comparing both yve’s and Rene’s work, Rene is the more realistic painter of them both, Rene opts for more minor details like details in the sand he paints where yve goes for a smoother look to his piece which makes his shapes more abstract but sacrifice detail. Rene also has a more verity to what he paints as he doesn’t just paint one thing like yve does, however, yve doesn’t really need much verity to his work as his unique trait really is that he paints mostly the same subject over and over again. There’s a lot more visible brushstrokes in yve’s work, he uses it a lot in the sand to add contrasting colours in it and he also uses it in his more fabric-based shapes to add a fabric like texture to them. Rene’s use of brushstrokes is a lot looser in application to Yves, but he makes them count, only adding them to the objects that could use the extra layer of detail like his use of sand and fabric. They both go for I believe the representation of the subconscious mind, yve’s with the thoughts in our mind and the passing emotions and Rene with representations of dreams and showing how bizarre they really can be.

 In conclusion, I very much prefer yve’s more simplistic surrealism, I just find it a bit more unusual where I feel like Rene’s just makes a bit too much sense for my liking, I prefer work when its at its weirdest and yve hits that spot. I also very much prefer the palette Yve uses as it’s much more muted palette which despite being very muted makes the strange objects he paint all blend into one giant mess of abstractness that just makes my eyes happy to look at.

[ofravensandgenesis]

IT IS FINISHED no seriously, this took ages. First couple of days were fine and motoring along with progress, then I was laid out for a week-ish with health problems. Then once I was well enough again I was back to being fixated on finishing this piece of my lad Joshua here for another handful of days, so I’m super glad this is done now. More talk about the painting, details and process under the cut:

Art Entry 01, Joshua Rook, Junior Deputy of Hope County. Regarding the painting’s execution, stylistic choices, practiced methods, and speculation on further experimentation for skill and stylization. _____________________________ Honestly I thought that the uniform’s large swatches of green fabric would be more difficult than it actually was. Turns out that was the easier part compared to the shoulder patch and metal badge. x’D The metal badge design is based off of and inspired by a custom-ordered cosplay badge design I found while looking for references, in this post here (link,) from v-i-d-e-n-o-i-r’s blog and Far Cry 5 cosplay. There are some differences in the painting’s rendition above, namely I flattened the middle section and made it all concentric polished metal instead of painted and the great seal rendition in the middle doesn’t have silver lineart either. Those choices are as much for aesthetic reasons of eliminating the blue ring so it was all a fairly simple mono-material-looking surface as it was for simplifying having to forego painting the foreshortening that a spherical dome might entail. Also just because the rest of the metal turned out looking good enough that an additional bit of shiny metal seemed like it’d fit right in for this. That being said, the badge design that inspired this one is rad and awesome looking—and I totally didn’t realize it wasn’t quite like the badges from in-game assets until after I’d painted it. x’D So, I decided to stick with this one since it’s simpler and has cleaner lines, and less engraving to pick out highlights on. Metal is very hit or miss for me to get right, so I’m very pleased with how this one came out! :D I think I did well on that one. The shoulder patch originally I was looking at real world references and ended up changing the shape once I actually looked at in-game references on Staci and Joey—who I discovered have slightly different details on their uniforms, like the font for their name tags—Staci’s has an old-timey-looking-font with serifs, Joey’s is a non-serif more modern-style font. Some pictures have them having different buttons on their uniforms either in color or shape (the former being exported assets, the latter being in-game gifs/screenies/etc.) This is also how I learned that the little landscape with the shovel, pickaxe and plough/plow are part of the great seal of Montana. I had no flipping idea that was what it was, looking at the patches in-game. The cosplay community does some great work for that, for which I’m grateful. I ended up looking up references of what the state seal’s design was so as to see the smaller details, and to find out what the motto meant ”Oro y Plata,” meant, leading to etymology googling adventures from there, as usual. All important details to paint though I think here, since Joshua’s deputy uniform is symbolically significant to him and will remain so throughout his story as part of his internal conflict for a couple of reasons. One thing I knew I should’ve done from the start, and reminded myself to do, was the fact that I should paint all skin sections at the same time, so as to ensure they all came out the same shades. I did not do this. x’D I’ll have to actually try to do that next time honestly. Same with the hair sections, while I like how they came out, I do feel the differences between the three major segments in terms of brushwork is not as coherent as I’d like, even if beard hair is not necessarily similar in how it lays to scalp hair, particularly with length and such taken into consideration. Still, not bad. Could’ve used more refs for the backlighting and figuring out how the highlights would fit best on the ponytail, but I think the hair curves turned out nice there in particular. Overall, Joshua’s hair ended up messier than I’d thought with how the locks all end up looping this way and that across his head, but it does actually fit him well as a character for his hairstyle to be messy and loosely held together, but functional. It did end up longer than I’d intended, so we have him likely ending up with a nerdy Jesus hairstyle when it’s down. x’D (Thanks to @undead-gearhead​ for that mental imagery, I shall take great amusement in that should I get around to drawing Joshua with his hair down.) Aside from that, I think I’m slowly improving on figuring out how to paint glasses, though I’m thinking in the future I should test more layered reflective light on them or something where the frames are in contact or close to skin, particularly around the glasses’ bridge across the nose and such. Then there are the other deviation details added—like using dark green instead of the black for the uniform accents. The faded black looks great in-game, but I do think the buttons pop more against dark green instead for this painting. I’m a little bit surprised how well the button-placket section came out, Clip Studio Paint crashed when I painted the first rendition of it, sadly losing all that work. I thought it’d be okay but turns out it didn’t quite get to auto-save that recently enough, but the second go around turned out quite well I think, possibly better. I was originally planning to try to put more textured brushwork across the flat sections of the uniform material, but decided to skip it for speed—I’ll test that elsewhere perhaps, though I think it came out well with the watercolor brushes layered on top of one another like that as is. Among the other smaller details, there’s some tweaks and such for how Joshua’s eye shape, eyebrows, nose shape, hairline etc came out compared to references of Greg Bryk in his role as Joseph Seed. I think Joshua did come out looking like he’s obviously related to the Seeds as I was hoping for, but I’m kind of on the fence that people would look at him and automatically assume it’s Joseph specifically that he’s descended from. I hope so, but either way, that’s how he’s written in-fic. x’D Overall, I would consider this painting a success, though as usual I do wish it’d been faster to finish. I do think this was good practice for detail work, and metal shading, also: buttons. Still haven’t figured out how to paint lips with more pink or red tones, I don’t like the way they look when painted sadly, unless it’s lipstick. That may end up being a stylistic element perhaps, along with how I paint the lines for fingernails and other such details. Fun fact: I have to leave the shading on the eyes for last, or else my brain goes “The eyes are done! We’re done! Call it a day.” I’m not sure why, but so far, leaving them as flats until the end seems to work a treat for keeping me focused on finishing the rest of the work with less mental dissonance. Now if only I could figure out why despite knowing I should do all the exposed skin portions at the same time, I don’t follow through on that naturally as far as inclinations go. Maybe it’s a layer organization thing and perception of wanting, say, the cloth to be done first before working “down” to the hands and such in the sense of working from the head down? I’ll have to think on that some more and test things in the next painting. Perhaps color coding the order of layers to paint will help? CSP does have a nice layer-icon-color function that I’ve dabbled with here and there. There are so many brushes, I really do need to test out more of them, I use, what, four or five total, but primarily somewhere around two or three. Hm, but what to do with texture, and how to utilize it so? Hmmm, as far as personal appeal for methodology goes, I might prefer to use textures in select pieces for more emotional emphasis? If I can figure out how to do that in a messier speed-paint style of things. Rougher textures for conflict, for example. That sounds like an interesting idea to explore, I’ll have to remember that for a later piece. Maybe more heavily textured brushes will also help with the mental itch to refine things to a cleaner-level of refining instead of leaving it in a more organically rough state. Hm, maybe it’s a “mental texture” aversion or something, as far as an interplay between the brush’s texture and the flow of the linework/brushstroke. Perhaps more uneven brushes echo that in a complimentary fashion to better allow less mental discomfort for me personally when trying to paint in a faster, looser fashion? Honestly, very tempting to go try that out sooner rather than later on some art ideas I have, but I’ve been missing my writing very much of late with two time-demanding paintings back to back. So, ideas for a later time to experiment with.