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bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue · 1 year ago

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Beboptober Day 31: Pumpkinhead

Thanks, as ever, to @thestarlightsymphony for the prompt list…of what may as well be called Bebop-une at this point! I want to FINALLY finish all the Beboptober prompts—as out-of-season as this one may be!—so I can turn my energy to the lovely @bebopcrew’s 30-Day Writing Challenge for the month of July.

Fittingly enough, this fic is inspired by the work of @aldreantreuperi, one of the lovely admins of the Bebop Crew server—specifically, by THEIR final fanfic for Beboptober, taking place during Cowboy Bebop: The Movie—Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door and detailing how Jet carved Ed’s pumpkin mask and watched Ed construct her Halloween costume. I wanted to write some of that same scene from Ed’s point of view! Their fic, in turn, was inspired by @jetspikepub sharing the pictures from the brochure that came with the movie!

Also, tomorrow I’ll probably publish my collected Beboptober fics on AO3 and publish a link to them! (Update: Here’s the link!)

And with this, and after far too many months, I bid a fond farewell to Beboptober…

Ed strode into the Bebop’s storage bay decisively, Ein following closely beside her. They took a look around the area, piled high with sealed boxes, baskets, and crates, then immediately began searching through whatever was readily accessible. The two of them were on the hunt for anything that would make Ed the perfect Halloween costume—paired, of course, with the jack-o’-lantern that Jet, back in the kitchen, was carving out of the great big pumpkin he’d procured and that she’d already resolved to wear over her head. What was Halloween without a mask, after all?

She had carefully sketched out the design she wanted for the jack-o’-lantern’s face, and as Jet carved it, he’d sent her off to find other supplies for a costume. She was exultant with joy, already imagining running out into the streets of Alba City to trick-or-treat, snack on deliciously sweet candy, and see the big parade that filled the streets with big balloons and costumed revelers—a Halloween celebration the likes of which Ed had never before experienced.

But before she did all of that, she’d need a proper costume.

The first thing she gravitated towards was a huge sombrero with a wide brim. Ed liked the colorful pattern around the inside, but when she plopped it down onto her head, it promptly slipped right over her eyes. It took a bit of blind groping for her to get the thing off. No way would that work with the jack-o’-lantern mask she was planning. Farther into the storage bay, she discovered a pair of ruby-red stilettos that had probably belonged to Faye at one point. The heel of one of the shoes had broken off, and now the pair lay broken and discarded. But this didn’t stop Ed from slipping her bare feet into the shoes anyway and taking a few tentative steps, wobbly and uneven. However, it didn’t take long for her to kick the shoes off her feet, sending them sailing back into the oblivion of the storage bay. They probably wouldn’t have been much fun to trick-or-treat in, anyway.

She rifled through a few more boxes, some of which produced interesting finds—including a tie that looked like one of Spike’s, ballpoint pens that still had a bit of ink in them, some wires and cords that she’d have to remember to plug into Tomato to see if they fit, and the old holographic chessboard (she thought they’d lost it after her week-long chess game with the old chessmaster, Hex!)—but none of which were promising as supplies to use for her costume. She was about to give up and look elsewhere on the ship when Ein began sniffing at an old cardboard box, then barking at what he found. Ed bounded over and pulled out the object at the top of the box, and her face immediately lit up. “Great find, Ein!” she said, and the dog barked in appreciation.

Ein had uncovered an old piece of cloth, possibly some scrap material from an old blanket or jacket. Ed knew immediately what she could use it for: a cape! It was a dark turquoise color and would reach down to just past her bottom when worn on her back, and it was the perfect article to pair with her jack-o’-lantern mask to make practically any kind of costume she could imagine. And as a bonus, if she slung it across her back, it worked well for carrying the pumpkin when she wasn’t wearing it! She wasted no time in tying it around her neck and imagining its endless costume possibilities. Her imagination ran wild.

First, she drew the cape closely around her, grabbed one of the pens, and pointed it off in a random direction, shouting “Abraaaaa-cadabraaaa!” and “Alakazam!” in her most mysterious, commanding voice. She was Edward the Great, Edward the Mysterious and Powerful, master of the arcane magical arts, commander of the universe, bending the world to her whims….

But she quickly abandoned this idea, tossing the pen aside. The cape wasn’t quite long or dark or imposing enough to belong to a proper wizard or warlock; she was pretty sure real magicians wouldn’t have their skinny legs poking out from the bottom of it. Besides, while having magical powers would be fun, she wasn’t really sure she wanted to bend the whole wide universe to her whims. That would get pretty boring after a while. It was more interesting to see what life would bring her, where it would take her next. (Although having a bit of magic certainly wouldn’t hurt!)

Next, she adjusted the cape to flow behind her, clambered up to the top of one of the stacks of crates, and perched precariously on the edge, her fist poised high above her in a triumphant gesture. She was Super-Ed, defender of justice, savior of…uh, people who needed saving. There had to be a lot of those out there, right? And she could be the superhero they needed. “Up, up, and away!” she yelled out at the top of her lungs as she leapt off the top, feeling for a moment like she really could fly, like she had powers flowing through her veins.

Luckily, she was able to break her fall without hitting anything else in the storage bay or knocking over any of the crates. From there, she ran around the storage area as fast as she could, her cape flapping and fluttering behind her as Ein—her loyal superhero sidekick?—followed as fast as his stubby corgi legs would take him. In her imagination, she was flying across a bustling city, rescuing civilians, fighting bad guys—kind of like what Spike, Jet, and Faye did, but flashier. Not to mention more fun. “Shazam!” she shrieked as she leapt over boxes of random odds and ends. “To infinity…and beyond!”

At one point, she had the bright idea to grab the tie she’d found earlier and secure it over her eyes, just like the mask a real superhero would wear. She shut her eyes tight as she tied the knot in the back of her head; then, giggling madly, she set off in another run—and immediately crashed into one of the stacks.

Right. Real superhero masks had eyeholes.

After rubbing her lightly bruised shin and doing away with the makeshift superhero mask (it wouldn’t have worked with her pumpkin mask anyway), Ed pulled off the cape and sat for a bit in thought, going through her mental catalog of other suitable costumes—until, finally, she had it. She once again tied the cape securely around her neck, pulling the knot closed with a decisive, confident tug, and let it flutter behind her on her back. “Spooky, spooky vampire! A-ha-ha-ha-ha!” she said under her breath.

Then, she loomed over Ein—her face menacing, her hands with claw-like fingers poised on either side of her head, and pretending her teeth were long, pointy fangs. “I vant to suck your blooood!” she said in her best, slightly warbling, Dracula voice. Ein drew back and whimpered a little, his ears low on his head. Ed quickly snapped out of character, then gently pet his head to let him know she hadn’t really meant to frighten him.

The costume was perfect—perfectly spooky, for Halloween—and would fit right in with the masses of people trick-or-treating on Alba City. It was bound to bring in tons of candy, too. With this cape, she was fully equipped for what was sure to be the best Halloween celebration in the whole Solar System—or, at least, the best one she’d ever had.

“C’mon, Ein!” she exclaimed, and together the two of them ran back to Jet in the kitchen, crashing into things as was their wont. Ed was laughing, brimming with holiday excitement, ready to take this costume to the streets of Alba City. She couldn’t wait to find out what happened next.

Since she’d joined the Bebop crew, since she’d made these new friends that she loved with all her heart, she’d had so many adventures that she felt like they would never end. The world, in her eyes, was brimming with possibility and promise. Anything could happen.

Anything was possible.

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bananaofswifts · 3 years ago

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By Paul Tingen

From sketches to final mixes, engineer Jonathan Low spent 2020 overseeing Taylor Swift’s hit lockdown albums folklore and evermore.

“I think the theme of a lot of my work nowadays, and especially with these two records, is that everything is getting mixed all the time. I always try to get the songs to sound as finalised as they can be. Obviously that’s hard when you’re not sure yet what all the elements will be. Tracks morph all the time, and yet everything is always moving forwards towards completion in some way. Everything should sound fun and inspiring to listen to all the time.”

Speaking is Jonathan Low, and the two records he refers to are, of course, Taylor Swift’s 2020 albums folklore and evermore, both of which reached number one in the UK and the US. Swift’s main producer and co‑writer on the two albums was the National’s Aaron Dessner, also interviewed in this issue. Low is the engineer, mixer and general right‑hand man at Long Pond Studios in upstate New York, where he and Dessner spent most of 2020 working on folklore and evermore, with Swift in Los Angeles for much of the time.

“In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand‑new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind‑blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum.

“We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on‑a‑whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points.”

Sketching Sessions

“The instrumental sketches Aaron makes come into being in different ways,” elaborates Low. “Sometimes they are more fleshed‑out ideas, sometimes they are less formed. But normally Aaron will set himself up in the studio, surrounded by instruments and synths, and he’ll construct a track. Once he feels it makes some kind of sense I’ll come in and take a listen and then we together develop what’s there.

“I don’t call his sketches demos, because while many instruments are added and replaced later on, most of the original parts end up in the final version of the song. We try to get the sketches to a place where they are already very engaging as instrumental tracks. Aaron and I are always obsessively listening, because we constantly want to hear things that feel inspiring and musical, not just a bed of music in the background. It takes longer to create, but in this case also gave Taylor more to latch onto, both emotionally and in terms of musical inspiration. Hearing melodies woven in the music triggered new melodies.”

Not long after Dessner and Low sent each sketch to Swift, they would receive her voice memos in return, and they’d load them into the Pro Tools session of the sketch in question. Dessner and Low then continued to develop the songs, in close collaboration with Swift. “Taylor’s voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks.”

Dessner supplied sketches for nine and produced 10 of folklore’s 16 songs, playing many different types of guitars, keyboards and synths as well as percusion and programmed drums. Instruments that were added later include live strings, drums, trombone, accordion, clarinet, harpsichord and more, with his brother Bryce doing many of the orchestrations. Most overdubs by other musicians were done remotely as well. Throughout, Low was keeping an overview of everything that was going on and mixing the material, so it was as presentable and inspiring as possible.

Mixing folklore

Although Dessner has called folklore an “anti‑pop album”, the world’s number‑one pop mixer Serban Ghenea was drafted in to mix seven tracks, while Low did the remainder.

“It was exciting to have Serban involved,” explains Low, “because he did things I’d never do or be able to do. The way the vocal sits always at the forefront, along with the clarity he gets in his mixes, is remarkable. A great example of this is on the song ‘epiphany’. There is so much beautiful space and the vocal feels effortlessly placed. It was really interesting to hear where he took things, because we were so close to the entire process in every way. Hearing a totally new perspective was eye‑opening and refreshing.

“Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over‑mixing.

“We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, ‘Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?’ We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn’t improve the song — ‘cardigan’ is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix.”

Onward & Upward

folklore was finished and released in July 2020. In a normal world everyone might have gone on to do other things, but without the option of touring, they simply continued writing songs, with Low holding the fort. In September, many of the musicians who played on the album gathered at Long Pond for the shooting of a making‑of documentary, folklore: the long pond studio sessions, which is streamed on Disney+.

The temporary presence of Swift at Long Pond changed the working methods somewhat, as she could work with Dessner in the room, and Low was able record her vocals. After Swift left again, sessions continued until December, when evermore was released, with Dessner producing or co‑producing all tracks, apart from ‘gold rush’ which was co‑written and co‑produced by Swift and Antonoff. Low recorded many of Swift’s vocals for evermore, and mixed the entire album. The lead single ‘willow’ became the biggest hit from the album, reaching number one in the US and number three in the UK.

“Before Taylor came to Long Pond,” remembers Low, “she had always recorded her vocals for folklore remotely in Los Angeles or Nashville. When I recorded, I used a modern Telefunken U47, which is our go‑to vocal mic — we record all the National stuff with that — going straight into the Siemens desk, and then into a Lisson Grove AR‑1 tube compressor, and via a Burl A‑D converter into Pro Tools. Taylor creates and lays down her vocal arrangements very quickly, and it sounds like a finished record in very few takes.”

Devils In The Detail

In his mixes, Low wanted listeners to share his own initial response to these vocal performances. “The element that draws me in is always Taylor’s vocals. The first time I received files with her properly recorded but premixed vocals I was just floored. They sounded great, even with minimal EQ and compression. They were not the way I’m used to hearing her voice in her pop songs, with the vocal soaring and sitting at the very front edge of the soundscape. In these raw performances, I heard so much more intimacy and interaction with the music. It was wonderful to hear her voice with tons of detail and nuances in place: her phrasing, her tonality, her pitch, all very deliberate. We wanted to maintain that. It’s more emotional, and it sounds so much more personal to me. Then there was the music...”

The arrangements on evermore are even more ‘chamber pop’ than on folklore, with instruments like glockenspiel, crotales, flute, French horn, celeste and harmonium in evidence. “As listeners of the National may know, Aaron’s and Bryce’s arrangements can be quite dense. They love lush orchestration, all sorts of percusion, synths and other electronic sounds. The challenge was trying to get them to speak, without getting in the way of the vocals. I want a casual listener to be drawn in by the vocal, but sense that something special is happening in the music as well. At the same time, someone who really is digging in can fully immerse themselves and take in all the beauty deeper in the details of the sound and arrangement. Finding the balance between presenting all the musical elements that were happening in the arrangement and this really beautiful, upfront, real‑sounding vocal was the ticket.

“A particular challenge is that a lot of the detail that Aaron gravitates towards happens in the low mids, which is a very warm part of our hearing spectrum that can quickly become too muddy or too woolly. A lot of the tonal and musical information lives in the low mids, and then the vocal sits more in the midrange and high mids. There’s not too much in the higher frequency range, except the top of the guitars, and some elements like a shaker and the higher buzzy parts of the synths. Maintaining clarity and separation in those often complex arrangements was a major challenge.”

#taylor swift #folklore

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bubblesuga · 4 years ago

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Turning Page - Part 1

Summary: Sometimes you find yourself in the right place at the right time and unknowingly, you fall in love. Min Yoongi certainly didn’t expect that when he met eyes with you one fateful night in late July. Nor did he expect to end up naked in your apartment while you drew his body.

w/c: 7,302 genre: struggling producer!yoongi au, new relationship, fluff, smut warnings: oral (m receiving), dom!yoongi, switch!reader, raw sex, spanking, reader has a praise kink, yoongi has a dirty mouth (but lets be honest, what else is new?), slight exhibitionism, jungkook is too nosy for his own good

It’s not often that you find yourself at a 24 hour diner in the middle of the night with an insane amount of papers splayed out in front of you as eat your waffles while answering emails and trying your hardest to copy the manuscripts sent to you but for some god-awful reason it’s happened to you on more than one occasion this week alone.

The manuscript, which the author unabashedly decided to hand write instead of type in this day and age, was way too long and had way too much detail. Unfortunately for you, your boss only reads typed manuscripts and insisted that you copy every word and type it for her by Monday. You know for a fact that your boss is going to get three chapters into this absolute mess of a story and toss it but you have no choice but to listen to her.

This is definitely not how you expected being an intern to go yet here you are, wondering and waiting for the day that you can move on and start your own company like you’ve wanted to for practically your entire life.

“Can I get you a refill on your coffee?” A voice asks, and you glance up to see the waitress, an older woman with a smile that could light up a thousand suns.

“Yes please,” you smile, holding out your mug to her as she pours directly from the pot, “thank you.”

“No problem, I always see you working so hard so I figured you could use the energy boost.” she grins, patting your shoulder lightly as she begins to walk away and help the other few tables which also happen to be hosting tired college students and early risers or late sleepers.

Without even realizing it, another half hour passes by you quickly. Your eyes burn, but you count the remaining pages and try to push through. Quickly though, your ears spot the sound of dishes clanking together and you can’t help but pull your attention in that direction.

A man with blond hair and dark eyes is cleaning the table in front of you. He adorns an apron around his waist and a white t-shirt with black pants. The busboy wipes down the table, and you admire his side profile as he does so. His features are soft, a rounded nose and down-turned lips held almost in a pout. You have never come across a man so stunningly beautiful, it nearly causes your breath to be caught in your throat.

You’re staring for so long that the man catches on to your watchful eye, glancing over in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You smile sheepishly, “Sorry.”

The man smirks, shaking his head before hauling the bin of empty cups and plates towards the kitchen. Your heart sinks for a moment, but you shake the feeling to the best of your ability and try to finish typing.

A few more moments pass, and you hear someone sitting across from you. You glance up and see the man sat across from you, apron gone and a black jacket now covering his torso.

“Can I help you?” You question softly, clasping your hands together atop the table.

He bites his bottom lip, “I feel like I should be asking you the same thing.”

“Pardon?”

“You were watching me earlier, just curious what was on your mind was all.” He shrugs, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.

You swallow, the way his eyes scan you causes your face to flush. Carefully, you stack up your papers and clean the table slightly while you try to think a way to dance around the answer to his question. He waits patiently, which only causes you to panic internally.

“I was thinking that you would be nice to draw.” you finally settle on, and it’s true. He looks like a work of art, and you’d love to have had him as a model in your art class when you went to college.

He doesn’t seem to expect that answer, his eyes widening slightly as his head tilts, “So draw me.”

“Ah,” you immediately wave your hand dismissively, “I haven’t drawn in a couple years and I was never any good at it anyway.”

He leans forward, mirroring your position from earlier, “But if that was your first thought then surely you still have an interest in it.” The smooth cadence of his tone intimidates you to no end, yet it entices you and pulls you in even more. How can a stranger hold so much power over you?

“I’ll tell you what,” you say after a moment, suddenly gaining a brush of confidence when you see a twinkle in his eye, “you come to my apartment tomorrow night and I’ll draw you.”

“That sounds like a trap to murder me.” He remarks, a gummy grin stretching across his face and you have to hold back a small ‘awe’, your chest twisting at the sight.

“You want to get drawn or not?” you bite back, just as teasingly.

He shakes his head, a small chuckle leaving his pink lips, “Give me your phone.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. You unlock it for him and he takes it immediately, keeping the screen just far enough away from you that you can’t see what he’s doing. Soon enough, he stands abruptly and sets your phone down onto the table.

He smirks, “Text me the address, I’ll be there.”

The stranger wanders down the isle and towards the front door, and you watch in awe at his broad shoulders and shapely figure. Something about the way he carried himself made your mouth water.

Breaking out of your trance, you quickly unlock your phone and and see a newly added contact. At the top of the screen is a simple ‘Yoongi ;)’ titling the contact.

You blush, gnawing your bottom lip gently as he passes by the window and sends a wink your way.

~*~*~

He’s going to be here any moment. He’s going to walk through your door with his stupid fucking smirk and attractive eyes and he’s going to be in your living room, posing for a while so you can draw him.

And you’re freaking out.

After he left you immediately sent him your address, and since then the two of you have been talking non stop. It was mostly about small things, jobs, favorite foods and favorite colors... Although it may have only been a day, you feel like you know him pretty well. He’s funny and charismatic and oh so charming, no wonder you were so drawn in to his beauty because he’s gorgeous from the inside out.

You haphazardly through your jackets and shoes into the closet by the front door, only recently becoming aware of how much clothes you leave strewn throughout your home.

Just as you light a cinnamon scented candle in the center of the room, your doorbell rings.

You rush over to the door and glance in the mirror to fluff your hair and wipe away any runny make up. Exhaling a deep breath, you open the door and greet Yoongi with a smile.

“Hello.” you say simply, opening the door wider and motioning for Yoongi to come in. He’s dressed in a black button up and tight fitting black jeans, a stark contrast to his work attire. He carries with him a back pack and a bottle of whiskey.

He notices the way you eye the bottle, and he flushes slightly, “I figured it could help with your nerves. A- and mine, because I’m a little nervous as well.”

“Nervous?” you trudge into your living room with Yoongi following closely behind, “why are you nervous?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure if you expected this to be a nude drawing or not so I wore nice clothes but I’m also willing to take them off.” He scratches the bottom of his chin, watching as you set up the easel.

You pause your movements, eyes widening, “N- nude?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, twisting open the bottle of whiskey, “isn’t that what you do in those fancy art classes? Draw nude people?”

“I- I mean, we did,” you stutter, your throat going dry, “but they were always women because I went to an all female college.”

“Ah, so you could use the practice,” he grins confidently, but it drops suddenly, “unless you’re uncomfortable with that. Then, fully clothed is fine with me.”

The thought of being able to see the gorgeous man nude excited you more than you’d like to admit, and seeing as you two were in the safety and comfort of your own home, you had no problem with him doing it so long as he wanted to, and by the way his fingers are itching to undo the first button of his shirt, you figure he is.

“Go ahead. You’re right, I can use the practice.”

Yoongi smiles and with trembling fingers he begins to take his clothes off. As he does so, you focus on setting up the rest of your supplies. The charcoal set sits idly on the table beside you and you finally sit down with a sigh.

As you turn your eyes back to Yoongi, you see that he is splayed across your couch with the bottle in hand.

Holy fuck, his body is just as gorgeous as his face. He’s lean, but you can tell he definitely works out his arms and his legs are long, a pinkish tint holds itself to his skin and you’re unsure if he’s being shy or if the alcohol has already taken affect on him. Eventually you let your eyes land on his hips, his pelvis presenting itself neatly between his legs. It takes everything in you not to drop what you’re doing and let him fuck you into oblivion.

“(Y/N)?” you hear, and you’re brought back to the current situation. Yoongi’s face holds a knowing smirk, and he leans forward to hand you the bottle of whiskey.

You take it gratefully, your heart thudding harshly in your chest as you take a sip.

“Is this position okay?” he questions, one leg bent at the knee and resting on the other one. His right arm rests extended on the back of the couch while his left hand plays dangerously close to his pelvis.

“Y- yes.” you breathe, picking up your pencil and beginning the sketch.

It doesn’t take long for you to get the basic sketch down, your love for drawing coming back in droves as Yoongi sits silently, watching your face as you continue to sketch across the paper. He smiles, your nose crinkling before you erase a line or your tongue poking out as your concentrating on a specific area.

After a little bit of silence, you speak up, “Do you want me to draw, uhm,” you pause your sentence and gesture towards his hips, to which he responds with a little laugh.

“My cock?”

His use of the word shocks you a little bit, but you silently remind yourself that you are a grown woman and are completely capable of listening to a man talk about his anatomy, even when you’re immensely attracted to him and have to continually swallow the drool that threatens to fall from your mouth.

“Yeah, your- your cock.” you nearly whisper, noticing the way his cock twitches slightly at your voice.

Okay, he’s getting just as much enjoyment out of this as I am.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, shifting a few inches, “I want you to draw my cock.”

You nod, turning back to your drawing and beginning the last details.

Yoongi doesn’t take his attention away from your face, gauging your reaction to his body. He likes the way you’re so attentive, and it’s taking everything in him not to harden, though he’s unsure how much longer he can hold off.

His mind reels with the possibility of you riding him right on this couch. After spotting you at the restaurant he knew that he wanted you. It’s been far too long since he’s had sex, and his pickiness has become more and more evident, especially to his roommates. However, the moment he saw you, he could nearly imagine the way you would feel around him and when he saw you staring he knew that he was in the clear to come over and talk to you.

This definitely wasn’t how he expected it to turn out but he has no complaints.

“I’m almost done,” you murmur, your brow furrowed in concentration, “you can move now. All I have to do is shade a little.”

Yoongi lets out a small breath, his fingers dancing across his hip bone as he lays comfortably on his back, “Do you need me to get dressed now?”

You glance up, your face mostly hidden by the sketch pad, “If you would like to.”

Slight disappointment hits Yoongi as he realizes that he’s not going to be able to touch you today. He sits up and reaches for his boxers, but you stop him.

“Or you could give me a minute and I’ll undress too.” you say casually, shrugging as you pick up a black pen and sign the bottom of the drawing.

Yoongi’s jaw drops, and there’s no stopping it now. He instantly feels blood rush to his cock and watches intently while you spin the easel around and show him your work of art.

Across the page, Yoongi sees himself displayed and detail lining every area of the sketch. He notices the way his eyes twinkle even in the drawing and if there were ever a time to think of himself as attractive, it would be now that he’s been drawn by you.

“Do you like it?” you ask nervously.

Yoongi grins, “I love it.”

“Good,” you whisper, and you stand up. You take a careful step over to him, and Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes away from you. As you’re about to slip your shirt over your head, he stops you.

“Let me, please.” he begs gently, and you nod. He stands up quickly and hooks his fingers around the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms and allow him to slip the material over your head. His movements are slow, tantalizing and teasing you but also drawing you into him.

He places his hand against your side, drawing small circles before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

It lasts no more than a few seconds, but you instantly miss the contact. He smiles, his nose crinkling as he does so and your heart can be heard from inside your chest, singing as he looks you in the eyes. He unhooks your bra, tossing it to the side and suddenly his lips are back on yours.

It’s much more feverish than before, the taste of the whiskey and his strawberry flavored lip balm mix together on your tongue. The combination is harmonious, and he tastes exactly like you thought he would.

Suddenly, he grips your shorts and pants, slipping them down your legs and softly commanding you to step out of them. You steady yourself on his shoulders and do as he says, your legs trembling with anticipation.

“Last chance to back out of this if you don’t want it.” Yoongi says, his hands cupping your jaw and using his thumb to swipe gently at your cheek. You smile, “I want this.”

He nods, “On your knees.”

You instantly listen, dropping to your knees in front of him and licking your lips hungrily at now being eye level with Yoongi’s now hard cock. He smirks, “You can touch.”

You nod hesitantly, then reach forward and pump him up and down a few times. Instantly, Yoongi’s head falls backward and a moan falls from his lips, gloriously loud and deep.

The sound sends tingles straight to your heat, and you tentatively stick your tongue out to lick the tip of his member. His hips flex and you open your mouth automatically to accept him into your mouth. He goes a little further than expected and you gag as you feel him hit the back of your throat.

“’M sorry,” he moans, “fuck your throat feels so good.”

He looked heavenly, sweat begins to line his forehead as you use your tongue on the underside of his cock, paying special attention to the pulsating vein.

His hands gather your hair up in his hands, “There we go, wanna see your pretty face as you suck my cock.”

Fuck.

You take him as deep into your mouth as you possibly can and hold him there, moaning at his dirty mouth and feeling yourself grow wetter by the second.

“Good girl,” he feels your hands begin to roam his torso, his muscles flexing beneath his fingertips, “gonna cum.”

With that, you pop off of him and see his eyes fall to you incredulously. “I was gonna-”

“I know,” you grin, “but wouldn’t it feel better inside of me?”

“You are so fucking hot.” he says, pulling you up to his level and slamming his lips to yours. You tug him down as you fall onto the couch, his cock brushing ever-so-lightly between your legs and causing both of you to gasp.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to line himself up at your entrance, your legs wrapped carefully around his waist and guiding him in slowly. Yoongi watches the way your eyes roll backwards as he bottoms out, a moan falling from his lips as he steadies himself.

He had never felt as much pleasure than in this moment.

The eroticism of the entire situation made everything feel more sensual. Despite barely knowing him, you felt a connection to him stronger than anyone ever before. The way his cock seems to fit perfectly within you, stroking and massaging your velvety walls, immediately has you reeling beneath him.

“I’m not gonna last very long,” Yoongi starts, his arms shaking as he holds himself above you, “what can I do to help you out?”

“That’s okay, just fuck me.” You gasp.

You feel him reach a point inside you that sends waves through your body, your back arching off the couch. Yoongi catches the way your breathing has grown ragged, and reaches his hand between the two of you.

His thumb manages to find your clit, collecting your wetness and rubbing over it gently. His thrusts stay slow and steady, but even so you’re unable to hold back. As your orgasm approaches, you bring Yoongi down to your mouth and feel the way he nibbles at your bottom lip. Suddenly, he speeds his thrusts up and his thumb swipes fast and sloppy circles across your clit.

You feel your breath catch in your throat as your orgasm washes over you, a mewl of content leaving your mouth as Yoongi soon follows after, strings of hot cum coating your walls and adding to the sensitivity of your heat.

He collapses on top of you, his lips peppering kisses across your exposed chest while your hand caresses his hair.

“I would have been able to last longer if you weren’t so fucking good at giving head.” Yoongi nearly whines, his chest heaving while he attempts to catch his breath.

“It’s okay,” you smile, pushing his hair back and exposing his forehead, “we both got there in the end.”

Yoongi shrugs, making no effort to move off of you as he buries himself in your chest, “If you hadn’t, I would have no problem making you cum on my tongue.” His words are slightly muffled by your breasts which only causes you to giggle.

“Hm, I’m open to experiencing that on another day,” his lips turn up against your skin at your words, “but can I give you some pointers?”

Yoongi’s head pops up, his eyes looking at you incredulously, “you just said that we both got there in the end, what more do I need to do?”

“Be louder,” you whisper, his tone teasing, “I like when a man is vocal.”

His eyes glare jokingly, “Okay, you’re on. I’ll be as loud as you want.”

You giggle, pressing a light kiss to his nose and watching the way his face scrunch up at the contact.

His chin rests on you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “I like you a lot.”

“Are you basing this solely off of the fact that I made you cum?”

“That plays a part in it,” he chuckles, “but I want to see you again for sure. You seem cool, and I’d really like to take you out to dinner some time.”

“Ah,” you click your tongue, “we did it backwards.”

Yoongi laughs, a melodic sound that instantly makes your heart speed up.

The two of you lay there for a little bit, your hand stroking his hair as you talk about the most mundane tasks. He tells you a little bit about his job, how his friend owns the diner the two of you met at and Yoongi likes to help out every once in a while for some extra cash.

His real passion lies in music, which is why he was so hellbent to see you make art again. He loves encouraging people to create, to take charge and express themselves in the purest forms.

After what seems like hours, Yoongi hears his phone ding. With a groan of disapproval, he climbs off of you and reaches into his jeans for his phone.

You situate yourself on your side, watching the way Yoongi runs a hand through his messy hair and checks his phone.

“Seokjin wants me to come serve tonight,” he says with a sigh, “I’ll text you after I get off, yeah?”

You nod, “I need to finish up some work anyway.”

Silently, Yoongi begins to dress himself for the first time since he entered your apartment. You pout visibly as he slips his boxers back on, standing up and following suit by dressing yourself as well.

As soon as you’re both dressed, you carefully tear Yoongi’s drawing out of the sketch pad and reach out to hand it to him.

“You’re giving it to me?” He questions, taking it with a raised eyebrow.

You nod, “I don’t feel right in keeping it.”

He shakes his head, “You should keep it for a rainy day.”

Your eyes turn to slits while you inspect the drawing. You quietly slip it back into the sketchbook while Yoongi lets out another laugh.

You lead him back to the front door, your arms crossed over your chest. Different from previous hook ups, you didn’t feel dirty after everything that you did. Instead, you felt comforted by the fact that he didn’t just leave as soon as he finished. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to take care of you and that wasn’t something you came across often.

As he shuts the door behind him, you can’t help but touch your lips while you remember the feeling of his.

~*~*~

“Hey Seokjin,” Yoongi greets as he enters the diner through the back door.

Seokjin flips some sauteed vegetables in a pan and glances over at his younger friend, “Hey Yoon-” he pauses, setting down the pan, “you got laid didn’t you?”

Yoongi throws his head back, muttering a small ‘damn it’ knowing that he’s going to get grilled until Seokjin is happy with the amount of details he’s received.

“Yeah I did.” he sighs.

“Hm, well you don’t seem too happy about it. Was she awful or something?”

Yoongi whips his head towards Seokjin, “What? No, god no. She was fantastic.”

“Then why the long face?”

“Because I had to leave her to come help you.” Yoongi shrugs, chuckling when he feels Seokjin shove him lightly.

Shaking his head, Seokjin plates up the food while he talks to Yoongi, “Was it the cute editor you were talking about last night?”

Yoongi feels a twinge of jealousy hit his chest when he hears Seokjin saw you too, but it’s quickly replaced with triumph once he realizes that he got to you first.

“She’s an intern, not an editor quite yet, but yeah that’s her.”

“Good man,” he praises, “does that mean you’re back on your game?”

Yoongi scoffs, “Just because I fuck one girl doesn’t mean I’m immediately going to try and fuck every girl I’m attracted to again.”

Sure, Yoongi admits he went through a phase of... being well known. Especially in college, Yoongi was known to be a man of many special talents. After a while of random hook ups and making girls scream his name, he lost interest. He assumed it was because he got bored of it, but now he’s realizing that he was much more interested in having a relationship. Ever since he realized that, he had been waiting for someone to fall into his lap.

For some reason, the moment he saw you he felt some indescribable feeling that drew him to you. Like all that waiting had finally paid off and he needed to talk to the girl with laser focus and a cute smile.

“Oh, so you like this girl?” Seokjin says, glancing at the screen as another order comes in.

“Yeah, a lot. She’s an artist.” He grins, calling back from the locker room connected to the kitchen.

“Awe, did she draw you a picture?” Seokjin coos, a loud laugh following his teasing words.

Yoongi’s cheeks blush as he suddenly flashes back to the events of today, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Seokjin glances into the locker room, “I’ll question further later, for now you need to go to section A and help out Hwasa because she is drowning in tickets.”

“Yes sir!” Yoongi mocks a salute, walking out to the dining area.

~*~*~

From: Yoongi (received 16:34)

Be ready in 20. Dress comfortably.

Your jaw drops as you stare at your phone, rushing upward from your position on your couch with a bag of chips and blankets surrounding you.

You glance your at your reflection in passing and practically run to the bathroom to comb your hair.

It’s only been two weeks since the two of you met. Your comforted by the fact that your phone always has a good morning text and a good night text from Yoongi. The two of you have yet to have a dry conversation and even if Yoongi is stuck at work or working on one of his secret projects, he makes sure to send a text that he’ll respond as soon as he has the chance.

Previously you had never had someone so attentive, especially even in just the talking stages. At one point he called you, his voice rough and laced with sleep but the entire time he seemed lively and excited to talk to you. Your heart swelled with adoration the entire time and you’re safe in thinking that Yoongi feels the same.

Because you haven’t seen Yoongi since the day you drew him, you find yourself regularly looking at the drawing.

For the first time in what seems like years, you felt proud of something you had created. A constant rut that collapsed in on you like a black hole, drowning you in a state of constant despair, disappeared in half a day. Since then, you’re brain is reeling with creative thought and you couldn’t wait to show Yoongi what you’ve been drawing in your free time. He encourages you in a way that makes you feel like you can be whatever you want to be.

One thing you were most proud of was your self-portrait. Your legs laid spread in front of a mirror for hours while you tried to perfect a drawing for Yoongi, to give back since he allowed you to keep his.

“Why do all my cute bras disappear when I need them most?” you whine outwardly, your phone dinging again.

From Yoongi (received 16:48)

Oops, I’m early.

You smile.

To Yoongi (sent 16:49)

You’re lucky you’re cute Be out soon

Quickly, you slip on a simple blue laced bra and t-shirt with a red skirt. Hoping that you were still cute in your comfortable clothes, you let out a nervous breath and head to the door. You grab your sketch book before you lock your door, Yoongi’s car parked at the end of the breezeway. You spot him before he spots you, a black beanie adorned on his head with his gorgeous blond hair peaking out beneath.

You open his door and Yoongi immediately puts his phone away, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You greet, slipping your sketchbook into the back seat. Yoongi leans over the center console and holds your face in his hand, and he kisses you.

It’s short and sweet, not as feverish as the first one you shared but it made you realize how quickly you had fallen victim to missing his kiss.

“I have wanted to do that for weeks now.” He states as if he read your mind, his eyes closed in bliss.

“Why’d it take you so long then?” You tease, kissing him again.

Yoongi smirks, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Does that mean you’re fonder of me?”

He watches you pull the seat belt over your torso before he responds, “Definitely, I was thinking about you last night before I went to bed.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Mhm,” he hums, a hand moving over to rest on your knee while he backs out of the parking spot, “you’re very talented with your tongue, even in my dreams.”

You don’t respond, instead you look down at his hand on your knee with a blush.

The drive consists of soft music playing of the speakers of Yoongi’s 2003 Kia. A choice of car you wouldn’t expect him to drive but it oddly fits his personality. It’s quiet and gets him just where he needs to be, a simple thing that Yoongi tells you he takes pride in.

It isn’t a long drive, but you take the time to admire the way Yoongi looks as he drives. The windows are rolled down and soft summer air breezes throughout the car while you drive across the countryside. The evening sun shines across Yoongi’s face, those soft facial features that drew you in still prominent, his nose curling upward while he laughs at a joke you told.

“Alright,” he says after about 15 minutes, “we’re here.”

Yoongi parks near a beach, where you spot a group of people around a fire. You tilt your head, “Are we meeting your friends?”

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay. It’s just a small get together to celebrate a friend’s promotion.” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck and lets out a nervous chuckle.

You survey the crowd, cases of soju surrounding them while they laugh among each other. One of them seems to spot the car, waving at the two of you enthusiastically.

Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, “Sure, I’d love to meet your friends.”

Yoongi rushes to the other side of the car to open your door for you, wrapping his arm comfortingly around your shoulder while he leads you to the group.

A log was left empty that had just enough room for the two of you. As you approach, Yoongi calls out, “Shut up everybody! This is (Y/N), be nice to her. I like her a lot,” instantly everyone quiets down, and Yoongi points to the tallest first man, “That’s Namjoon, Seokjin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin.”

“Hyung, why’d you say my name last?” Jimin pouts, his voice already slightly slurred. You giggle, following Yoongi to the log.

Namjoon reaches over, sticking his hand out, “It’s nice to meet the girl that Yoongi’s mentioned.”

“Mentioned?” Jungkook scoffs, “He doesn’t shut up about you. You’re all he ever talks about and it takes a lot to get this man to stop talking about music.”

Yoongi leans over and smacks his friend on the arm, his cheeks turning red at his admission.

You giggle, “If it’s any consolation, I talk about Yoongi all the time too.”

“Ah great, they’re both crazy about each other.” Seokjin jokes, a laugh unlike you had ever heard falling from his lips. His laugh causes you to laugh, and you quickly cover your mouth once you realize what you did.

“Yah! She’s already making fun of my laugh!” Seokjin remarks, his bottom lip jutting outward cutely while Jimin shakes his head.

“Take this and shut up.” Jimin reaches a drink out to Seokjin, who laughs and sends a wink your way to ease your mind.

The night continues on gleefully, exchanging stories among each other and getting to know Yoongi’s friends - and Yoongi - more and more.

At one point you could tell that Yoongi’s friends were grilling you in an attempt to see if you were a bad person. They were quite bad at it, though, seeing as Jungkook asked if you had ever killed a man and Taehyung was hellbent on trying to get you to say you liked country music. Though, you did admit that Carrie Underwood had a few good songs. Taehyung took this as a win and threw his hands up in victory while Namjoon told him to settle down.

Now that you were more than a few drinks in, you listened intently to every story that the boys were telling.

"Just wait until you hear about Yoongi’s parenting diary for Holly.” Hoseok spills, laughing so hard that he leans into Jimin who sits beside him. Jimin eyes disappear behind his smile, and everyone begins to chuckle.

“No way!” you gape, turning to look at Yoongi who holds a beer tightly in his left and draws circles in your back with his right, “Min Yoongi, you never told me you were such a softy.”

“I’m not a softy, I’m mean and scary,” Yoongi retaliates loudly, then he leans closer to your ear and whispers, “and I bite.”

A chill runs down your spine and you immediately turn away, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to conceal your chill. Yoongi chuckles low enough for you to hear, his fingertips reaching beneath the base of your shirt and massaging gently. You didn’t realize how rough his fingertips were, callouses from hours of guitar playing evident on his hands.

“Alright, children. I think it’s time for us to head out.” Yoongi says suddenly, interrupting a conversation between Hoseok and Namjoon.

He stands and pulls you up with him. You smile and wave, “It was nice meeting you all.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” Namjoon waves back to you, “excited to have you back around.”

As you say goodbye to the rest and walk away, you hear a patter of footsteps walking behind the two of you. “Hyung! Can I get a ride?”

Jungkook stumbles towards the two of you, and Yoongi glances at you in question. You shrug, “I don’t mind, it’s your car.”

Yoongi waves Jungkook over, the three of you walking towards Yoongi’s small car. Yoongi opens the door for you, bowing gently and humming while he walks over to the drivers side. In the few short seconds that you and Jungkook were alone in the car, Jungkook leans forward and rests his head on the back of Yoongi’s seat.

“I haven’t seen Yoongi this happy in a while,” he pats your shoulder, “thank you.”

You don’t get the opportunity to respond as Yoongi opens the car door and hops in. You swallow, smiling and biting your lip. Your chest swells with the thought that Yoongi is just as affected by you as you are by him.

The drive is quite, but suddenly Jungkook speaks up.

“Is this yours, (Y/N)?”

You turn your head back and instantly your eyes widen, Jungkook glancing through your sketchpad. You spot the edge of your Yoongi drawing sticking out, Yoongi’s face visible but Jungkook had yet to spot it.

“Y- yeah.” you say, praying that he stops flipping through the pages. Yoongi glances over to you, his eyes just as wide as yours. He simply shakes his head as if to say ‘stop him’.

“These are really goo- oh! You drew Yoongi!” Jungkook’s fingers begin to pull at the piece of paper which causes you to unhook your seat belt and take the entire sketchbook out of Jungkook’s hands.

He seems lost for a second, “Can I see the Yoongi drawing?”

“No!” you and Yoongi respond simultaneously, panic lacing both of your voices while Yoongi pulls into an unfamiliar neighborhood.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “You two doing something freaky?”

Yoongi coughs, “I was just a model for (Y/N) to practice with.”

“A nude model?” Jungkook asks in a sing-song voice, noticing the way you glance at Yoongi.

“Cool it with the questions, Kookie.” Yoongi scolds gently.

“Hey, I don’t judge. I posed nude for a sculpting class once, those girls got to look at my bits for hours and I’m sure they enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed looking at Yoongi’s-”

“Wow would you look at that, we’re home! Get the fuck out of my car.” Yoongi turns around, gesturing for Jungkook to exit. Jungkook holds a smirk on his face, “Be safe.”

As soon as Jungkook gets out of the car, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Yoongi rests his head on the steering wheel, laughing quietly to himself in both embarrassment and joy.

“Why did you have that drawing in the sketchbook?” He questions as he reverses out of the driveway.

You shrug, “I don’t know... I just wanted to show you what I’ve been working on since that day.”

“Like what?”

“A self portrait.” you shrug, opening the sketchbook and flipping to the most recently filled in page. You hold it up so Yoongi can glance at it while he drives, but you didn’t expect his eyes to bulge out of his head while he slams on the breaks and pulls off to the side of the neighborhood road.

Instantly, he reaches and takes the book from you, his eyes scanning over the drawing repeatedly.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You smile gently, pointing your finger to your chest, “I drew my boobs more even than they actually are so I’m not that gorgeous.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn to slits, “Well this is tainted now. How will I ever be able to hang this up when it’s not accurate to the real thing?”

You giggle, pushing Yoongi’s shoulder gently. His joking tone diminishes once his eyes fall back on the drawing, the smile dropping from his face while his finger traces the curve of your hips. “Gorgeous...” he whispers again, “Fuck, I love this so much. Thank you.”

He leans across the center console and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

That’s just not enough, though.

You slip the sketchpad out of his hands and close it, “You want to see the real thing?”

Your lack of touch from Yoongi these past couple weeks didn’t seem to bother you but now that you have him alone, you want to jump his bones.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to nod, unhooking his seat belt and leaning his chair back a little bit. You grin, slipping the t-shirt over your head and pressing a harsh kiss against Yoongi’s lips. He welcomes your lips, drinking you in while his hands begin to roam your now bare skin. He slips his grip down to your thighs, pulling you over the center console and causing you straddle his thighs.

Not breaking the kiss, you begin to grind yourself down onto Yoongi’s quick-hardening cock. He moans into the kiss, his hands kneading your ass roughly. You gasp when you feel his hand lay a hard smack against your ass, the sound resonating throughout the car and causing Yoongi to smirk.

“Oh, you like being spanked?” he peppers kisses across your neck, “have you been a bad girl?”

“Mhm,” you moan, “I’m your bad girl.”

“That’s right,” Yoongi growls, spanking you once again, “my bad girl.”

You toss your head back when you feel Yoongi’s hips begin to twist beneath you, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. You reach between the two of you, unzipping his jeans and threading his cock through the hole.

Yoongi sucks in a breath through his teeth while your small hand pumps him up and down carefully.

“No time,” Yoongi groans, “ride me.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

The feeling of the slick between your legs was enough to show that you were ready, so Yoongi’s fingers push your panties to the side while he holds his cock and lines it up with your entrance. It doesn’t take long for him to slip inside, his hands gripping your hips and lifting you up and down while you moaned above him.

“You like my cock, don’t you baby? You’re gonna cum so good for me, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, the encouraging tone causing your body to jolt with pleasure. You nod quickly, your mouth opening to respond but the only noise to leave your throat was a whisper of his name.

He feels the way your walls clamp down on him, leaning forward and nibbling across your breasts. “Fuck,” he curses while you speed your hips up, “your pussy feels so good around me.”

Yoongi’s words cause your orgasm to creep up on you, his name falling from your lips like a mantra as you pulsate around him. Yoongi bears his teeth as he cums, growling low and deep while his fingers grip your hips hard, sure to leave bruises but you didn’t mind.

You both sit for a moment while you catch your breath, Yoongi’s tongue licking a long stripe from your collarbones to your jawbone before he kisses your lips.

“Did so good for me,” he rubs soothing circles in your burning thighs, “was I vocal enough for you?”

You laugh, “Yes sir. Please keep it coming.”

You both wince as he lifts you off of him, falling into the passenger seat and sighing happily.

Your feet rest in his lap after the two of you are cleaned up, his hands gently massaging them while he tells you about a new song that he’s working on and how he hopes that someone will be interested.

It’s then that you realize that this is going to extend past the need for sex, because the two of you were both genuinely interested in each other’s lives. He speaks animatedly about his interests and listens intently to yours. It doesn’t take you long to begin imagining waking up beside him every morning with the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

As he drops you off at your apartment for the night, Yoongi walks you to your doorstep.You unlock the door and turn to give him a goodbye kiss but he stops you, grabbing your hand and stroking across your knuckles.

“So, do you think you’d be interested in being my girlfriend?” He asks nervously, “I- I wasn’t sure if you were just thinking of this as a friend with benefits situation so I figured I would ask before one of us gets hurt.”

You nearly coo at the man, watching the way his eyes dance across his feet.

You bring your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, slamming a kiss onto his lips one more time. His hand grips the back of your shirt tightly, his tongue exploring your mouth while you lean against the wall. He pulls away with a grin, resting his forehead against yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You smile, “Of course.”

#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader fluff #min yoongi x reader smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi x reader smut #bts #suga #suga x reader

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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Jasonette July Day 18: Design

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Design Rated: G Jason was sitting calmly at the dining table at his apartment, with Tikki and Plagg on either side. All of them were having breakfast, Jason had toast while Tikki and Plagg had a cookie and cheese respectively. As the group were having breakfast on a fine day, Marinette meanwhile was in absolute tatters.

She ran back and forth across their apartment, picking up sketches, grabbing fabric, stuffing completed articles of clothing into a suitcase. In other words, a complete and utter mess.

“You do know the Gotham Fashion Expo starts this afternoon right? You have a few more hours.” Jason said calmly as he munched on his toast.

Marinette ran towards him, holding on to her sketchbook with a few pages threatening to fall out. “This is THE Gotham Fashion Expo, some of the world’s greatest fashion designers will be there. I need everything to be perfect.” She then zoomed off to continue her scatterbrained preparations.

“Sheesh, you’d put Flash to shame.” Jason commented. “So are any big name designers attending?” he asked Marinette.

Marinette returned, this time carrying a bolt of cloth. “Mari McCabe is going to be there,” she told him “The Mari McCabe!’ She huffed and ran away again.

Jason stopped mid bite, he recognised that name. Who knew Vixen would be coming to Gotham to attend a fashion expo? A sly smile crept onto his face as he took out his phone. Even if he had a rocky relationship with Vixen, he was willing to pull some strings to surprise his little Pixie.

Marinette was just about finished with her preparations before looking at her watch, she went pale. “Mon dieu, I have to be at the Gotham Convention Hall in an hour.” She sped past Jason and the Kwami carrying a few bags with her to hail a taxi. Jason smirked, as he looked back at his phone.

At the Gotham Convention Hall, Marinette had set up her own stall, with a hand embroidered sign saying “MDC” on it. She had displayed several articles of clothing and accessories on one side. On the other she had displayed her designs, pages of her sketchbook stuck on a corkboard.

She was able to get the attention of a few exhibition goers, a couple of them actually asked for her card! Unexpectedly she saw Tim there, he actually placed an order for a new suit. That was a win, though he wondered aloud why someone who designed for Jagged Stone was given such a small booth. Tim walked off mumbling at how she was too humble for her own good. Marinette appreciated the thought, maybe next year she’ll have a bigger booth. Other than that, it was a pretty slow day.

She slowly slumped on her stall, grew bored and started playing on her phone. She tried messaging Jason, however he was unresponsive. “Maybe he’s busy,” she thought to herself.

A voice brought her out of her boredom. “So you’re the famous MDC?”

Marinette looked up to the source of the voice to see Mari McCabe standing right in front of her, in a magnificent red dress. Marinette stuttered “H-h-hi I’m Marinette.” To her surprise she did not notice that behind Mari was none other than Bruce Wayne and Jason, both in their finest suits. Bruce gave Marinette a gentle smile while Jason had a devilish grin.

“These dresses look amazing Marinette.” she said as she looked through the various designs she had on display. Her past designs for Clara Nightingale caught her eye, largely because of the various bright and bold colours she used. “Here’s my card, it would be great if you could be one of my designers.” Spoke Mari, giving her card to a stunned Marinette.

Mari turned around, her face instantly soured as she looked back at Jason. “I’ve got my eye on you, if you hurt her I will tear you to shreds myself.”, she hissed.

Jason gave her a scout salute and a smile, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bruce now stepped in between the two, “Now Ms. McCabe, why don't we continue browsing the rest of the show?” Bruce offered his arm, to which Mari took and the two walked away.

Jason stayed behind and leaned over to Marinette’s stall. Marinette still remained frozen in shock, staring at the business card she had just received with her hands shaking. He tried waving his hands in front of her, but there was no response.

#jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat #ml x dc

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years ago

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The Story Behind Every Song on folklore - According to Aaron Dessner

By: Brady Gerber for Vulture Date: July 27th 2020

The National multi-instrumentalist spoke to Vulture over the phone from upstate New York a few hours after the surprise release of Swift’s eighth studio album. (“A pretty wild ride,” he admits, sounding tired yet happy.) He was clear that he can’t speak on behalf of Swift’s lyrics, much like he can’t for The National frontman Matt Berninger’s either, or the thinking behind Jack Antonoff’s songs. (Here’s a cheat sheet: Jack’s songs soar, Aaron’s glide.) But Dessner was game to speak to his specific contributions, influences, and own interpretations of each song on folklore, a record you can sum up by two words that came up often during our conversation: nostalgic and wry.

“the 1″

“the 1” and “hoax,” the first song and the last song, were the last songs we did. The album was sort of finished before that. We thought it was complete, but Taylor then went back into the folder of ideas that I had shared. I think in a way, she didn’t realize she was writing for this album or a future something. She wrote “the 1,” and then she wrote “hoax” a couple of hours later and sent them in the middle of the night. When I woke up in the morning, I wrote her before she woke up in LA and said, “These have to be on the record.” She woke up and said, “I agree” [laughs] These are the bookends, you know?

It’s clear that “the 1” is not written from her perspective. It’s written from another friend’s perspective. There’s an emotional wryness and rawness, while also to this kind of wink in her eyes. There’s a little bit of her sense of humor in there, in addition to this kind of sadness that exists both underneath and on the surface. I enjoy that about her writing.

The song began from the voice memo she sent me, and then I worked on the music some and we tracked her vocals, and then my brother added orchestration. There are a few other little bits, but basically that was one of the very last things we did.

“cardigan“

That’s the first song we wrote [in early May]. After Taylor asked if I would be interested in writing with her remotely and working on songs, I said, “Are you interested in a certain kind of sound?” She said, “I’m just interested in what you do and what you’re up to. Just send anything, literally anything, it could be the weirdest thing you’ve ever done,” so I sent a folder of stuff I had done that I was really excited about recently. “cardigan” was one of those sketches; it was originally called “Maple.” It was basically exactly what it is on the record, except we added orchestration later that my brother wrote.

I sent [the file] at 9 p.m., and around 2 a.m. or something, there was “cardigan,” fully written. That’s when I realized something crazy was happening. She just dialed directly into the heart of the music and wrote an incredible song and fully conceived of it and then kept going. It harkens back to lessons learned, or experiences in your youth, in a really beautiful way and this sense of longing and sadness, but ultimately, it’s cathartic. I thought it was a perfect match for the music, and how her voice feels. It was kind of a guide. It had these lower register parts, and I think we both realized that this was a bit of a lightning rod for a lot of the rest of the record.

The National’s Influence On Swift

She said that she’s a fan of the emotion that’s conveyed in our music. She doesn’t often get to work with music that is so raw and emotional, or melodic and emotional, at the same time. When I sent her the folder, that was one of the main feelings. She said, “What the fuck? How do you just have that?” [laughs] I was humbled and honored because she just said, “It’s a gift, and I want to write to all of this.” She didn’t write to all of it, but a lot of it, and relatively quickly.

She is a fan of the band, and she’s a fan of Big Red Machine. She’s well aware of the sentiment of it and what I do, but she didn’t ask for a certain kind of thing. I know that the film [I Am Easy To Find] has really affected her, and she’s very much in love with that film and the record. Maybe it’s subconsciously been an influence.

“the last great american dynasty”

I wrote that after we’d been working for a while. It was an attempt to write something attractive, more uptempo and kind of pushing. I also was interested in this almost In Rainbows-style latticework of electric guitars. They come in and sort of pull you along, kind of reminiscent of Big Red Machine. It was very much in this sound world that I’ve been playing around with, and she immediately clicked with that. Initially I was imagining these dreamlike distant electric guitars and electronics but with an element of folk. There’s a lot going on in that sense. I sent it before I went on a run, and when I got back from the run, that song was there [laughs].

She told me the story behind it, which sort of recounts the narrative of Rebekah Harkness, whom people actually called Betty. She was married to the heir of Standard Oil fortune, married into the Harkness family, and they bought this house in Rhode Island up on a cliff. It’s kind of the story of this woman and the outrageous parties she threw. She was infamous for not fitting in, entirely, in society; that story, at the end, becomes personal. Eventually, Taylor bought that house. I think that is symptomatic of folklore, this type of narrative song. We didn’t do very much to that either.

“exile” (ft. Bon Iver)

Taylor and William Bowery, the singer-songwriter, wrote that song initially together and sent it to me as a sort of a rough demo where Taylor was singing both the male and female parts. It’s supposed to be a dialogue between two lovers. I interpreted that and built the song, played the piano, and built around that template. We recorded Taylor’s vocals with her singing her parts but also the male parts.

We talked a lot about who she thought would be perfect to sing, and we kept coming back to Justin [Vernon]. Obviously, he’s a dear friend of mine and collaborator. I said, “Well, if he’s inspired by the song, he’ll do it, and if not, he won’t.” I sent it to him and said, “No pressure at all, literally no pressure, but how do you feel about this?” He said, “Wow.” He wrote some parts into it also, and we went back and forth a little bit, but it felt like an incredibly natural and safe collaboration between friends. It didn’t feel like getting a guest star or whatever. It was just like, well, we’re working on something, and obviously he’s crazy talented, but it just felt right. I think they both put so much raw emotion into it. It’s like a surface bubbling. It’s believable, you know? You believe that they’re having this intense dialogue.

With other people I had to be secretive, but with Justin, because he was going to sing, I actually did send him a version of the song with her vocals and told him what I was up to. He was like, “Whoa! Awesome!” But he’s been involved in so many big collaborative things that he wasn’t interested in it from that point of view. It’s more because he loved the song and he thought he could do something with it that would add something.

“my tears ricochet”

This is one of my absolute favorite songs on the record. I think it’s a brilliant composition, and Taylor’s words, the way her voice sounds and how this song feels, are, to me, one of the critical pieces. It’s lodged in my brain. That’s also very important to Taylor and Jack. It’s like a beacon for this record.

“mirrorball”

“mirrorball” is, to me, a hazy sort of beautiful. It almost reminds me of ‘90s-era Cardigans, or something like Mazzy Star. It has this kind of glow and haze. It feels really good before “seven,” which becomes very wistful and nostalgic. There are just such iconic images in the lyrics [“Spinning in my highest heels”], which aren’t coming to me at the moment because my brain is not working [laughs].

How Jack Antonoff’s Folklore Songs Differ From Dessner’s

I think we have different styles, and we weren’t making them together or in the same room. We both could probably come closer together in a sense that weirdly works. It’s like an archipelago, and each song is an island, but it’s all related. Taylor obviously binds it all together. And I think Jack, if he was working with orchestrations, there’s an emotional quality to his songs that’s clearly in the same world as mine.

We actually didn’t have a moodboard for the album at all. I don’t think that way. I don’t really know if she does either. I don’t think Jack... well, Jack might, but when I say the Cardigans or Mazzy Star, those aren’t Jack’s words about “mirrorball,” it’s just what calls to mind for me. Mainly she talked about emotion and to lean into it, the nostalgia and wistfulness, and the kind of raw, meditative emotion that I often kind of inhabit that I think felt very much where her heart was. We didn’t shy away from that.

“seven”

This is the second song we wrote. It’s kind of looking back at childhood and those childhood feelings, recounting memories and memorializing them. It’s this beautiful folk song. It has one of the most important lines on the record: “And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on.” That’s what this album is doing. It’s passing down. It’s memorializing love, childhood, and memories. It’s a folkloric way of processing.

“august”

This is maybe the closest thing to a pop song. It gets loud. It has this shimmering summer haze to it. It’s kind of like coming out of “seven” where you have this image of her in the swing and she’s seven years old, and then in “august” I think it feels like fast-forwarding to now. That’s an interesting contrast. I think it’s just a breezy, sort of intoxicating feeling.

“this is me trying”

“this is me trying,” to me, relates to the entire album. Maybe I’m reading into it too much from my own perspective, but [I think of] the whole album as an exercise and working through these stories, whether personal or old through someone else’s perspective. It’s connecting a lot of things. But I love the feeling in it and the production that Jack did. It has this lazy swagger.

“illicit affairs”

This feels like one of the real folk songs on the record, a sharp-witted narrative folk song. It just shows her versatility and her power as a songwriter, the sharpness of her writing. It’s a great song.

“invisible string”

That was another one where it was music that I’d been playing for a couple of months and sort of humming along to her. It felt like one of the songs that pulls you along. Just playing it on one guitar, it has this emotional locomotion in it, a meditative finger-picking pattern that I really gravitate to. It’s played on this rubber bridge that my friend put on [the guitar] and it deadens the strings so that it sounds old. The core of it sounds like a folk song.

It’s also kind of a sneaky pop song, because of the beat that comes in. She knew that there was something coming because she said, “You know, I love this and I’m hearing something already.” And then she said, “This will change the story,” this beautiful and direct kind of recounting of a relationship in its origin.

“mad woman”

That might be the most scathing song on folklore. It has a darkness that I think is cathartic, sort of witch-hunting and gaslighting and maybe bullying. Sometimes you become the person people try to pin you into a corner to be, which is not really fair. But again, don’t quote me on that [laughs], I just have my own interpretation. It’s one of the biggest releases on the album to me. It has this very sharp tone to it, but sort of in gothic folklore. It’s this record’s goth song.

“epiphany”

For “epiphany,” she did have this idea of a beautiful drone, or a very cinematic sort of widescreen song, where it’s not a lot of accents but more like a sea to bathe in. A stillness, in a sense. I first made this crazy drone which starts the song, and it’s there the whole time. It’s lots of different instruments played and then slowed down and reversed. It created this giant stack of harmony, which is so giant that it was kind of hard to manage, sonically, but it was very beautiful to get lost in. And then I played the piano to it, and it almost felt classical or something, those suspended chords.

I think she just heard it, and instantly, this song came to her, which is really an important one. It’s partially the story of her grandfather, who was a soldier, and partially then a story about a nurse in modern times. I don’t know if this is how she did it, but to me, it’s like a nurse, doctor, or medical professional, where med school doesn’t fully prepare you for seeing someone pass away or just the difficult emotional things that you’ll encounter in your job. In the past, heroes were just soldiers. Now they’re also medical professionals. To me, that’s the underlying mission of the song. There are some things that you see that are hard to talk about. You can’t talk about it. You just bear witness to them. But there’s something else incredibly soothing and comforting about this song. To me, it’s this Icelandic kind of feel, almost classical. My brother did really beautiful orchestration of it.

“betty”

This one Taylor and William wrote, and then both Jack and I worked on it. We all kind of passed it around. This is the one where Taylor wanted a reference. She wanted it to have an early Bob Dylan, sort of a Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan feel. We pushed it a little more towards John Wesley Harding, since it has some drums. It’s this epic narrative folk song where it tells us a long story and connects back to “cardigan.” It starts to connect dots and I think it’s a beautifully written folk song.

Is ‘betty” queer canon? I can’t speak to what it’s about. I have my own ideas. I also know where Taylor’s heart is, and I think that’s great anytime a song takes on greater meaning for anyone.

Is William Bowery secretly Joe Alwyn? I don’t know. We’re close, but she won’t tell me that. I think it’s actually someone else, but it’s good to have some mysteries.

“peace”

I wrote this, and Justin provided the pulse. We trade ideas all the time and he made a folder, and there was a pulse in there that I wrote these basslines to. In the other parts of the composition, I did it to Justin’s pulse. Taylor heard this sketch and she wrote the song. It reminds me of Joni Mitchell, in a way - there’s this really powerful and emotional love song, even the impressionistic, almost jazz-like bridge, and she weaves it perfectly together. This is one of my favorites, for sure. But the truth is that the music, that way of playing with harmonized basslines, is something that probably comes a little bit from me being inspired by how Justin does that sometimes. There’s probably a connection there. We didn’t talk too much about it [laughs].

“hoax”

This is a big departure. I think she said to me, “Don’t try to give it any other space other than what feels natural to you.” If you leave me in a room with a piano, I might play something like this. I take a lot of comfort in this. I think I imagined her playing this and singing it. After writing all these songs, this one felt the most emotional and, in a way, the rawest. It is one of my favorites. There’s sadness, but it’s a kind of hopeful sadness. It’s a recognition that you take on the burden of your partners, your loved ones, and their ups and downs. That’s both “peace” and “hoax” to me. That’s part of how I feel about those songs because I think that’s life. There’s a reality, the gravity or an understanding of the human condition.

Does Taylor Explain Her Lyrics?

She would always talk about it. The narrative is essential, and kind of what it’s all about. We’d always talk about that upfront and saying that would guide me with the music. But again, she is operating at many levels where there are connections between all of these songs, or many of them are interrelated in the characters that reappear. There are threads. I think that sometimes she would point it out entirely, but I would start to see these patterns. It’s cool when you see someone’s mind working.

“the lakes”

That’s a Jack song. It’s a beautiful kind of garden, or like you’re lost in a beautiful garden. There’s a kind of Greek poetry to it. Tragic poetry, I guess.

The Meaning Of Folklore

We didn’t talk about it at first. It was only after writing six or seven songs, basically when I thought my writing was done, when we got on the phone and said, “OK, I think we’re making an album. I have these six other ideas that I love with Jack [Antonoff] that we’ve already done, and I think what we’ve done fits really well with them.” It’s sort of these narratives, these folkloric songs, with characters that interweave and are written from different perspectives. She had a vision, and it was connecting back in some way to the folk tradition, but obviously not entirely sonically. It’s more about the narrative aspect of it.

I think it’s this sort of nostalgia and wistfulness that is in a lot of the songs. A lot of them have this kind of longing for looking back on things that have happened in your life, in your friend’s life, or another loved one’s life, and the kind of storytelling around that. That was clear to her. But then we kept going, and more and more songs happened.

It was a very organic process where [meaning] wasn’t something that we really discussed. It just kind of would happen where she would dive back into the folder and find other things that were inspiring. Or she and William Bowery would write “exile,” and then that happened. There were different stages of the process.

Okay, but is it A24-core? [Laughs.] Good comparison.

#Aaron Dessner #interview #vulture #about taylor #taylor swift #folklore album #folklore era #songwriting #producer #the national #bon iver

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hologramband · 4 years ago

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One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks @fangirlangioma

#jatp #jatp imagine #jatp luke #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #jatp luke patterson #jatp luke patterson imagine #jatp luke imagine #one day #luke patterson x fem!reader #mini series

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newtonsheffield · 4 years ago

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How and when did Sophie and Benedict first say “I love you” to one another? Was it as dramatic as the Kate/Anthony or Lucy/Gregory?

Could anything be as dramatic as Gregory running up five flights of stairs to declare his love for Lucy to stop her going on a date... that wasn’t a date? Or Kate crying on Daphne’s front lawn while Anthony screams into the night how much he loves her? I doubt it. And while I truly, deeply, adore a big dramatic declaration of love where the music swells and people dance in the back ground (Because surprise, I’m a messy bitch tbh) sometimes it’s a little more lowkey. Like These guys (psst. There’s a Benophie drabble under the cut)

If Sophie really thought about it, she’d known that she could fall in love with Benedict Bridgerton from the very first time she’d spoken to him. When they’d sat outside his sister’s wedding trading random facts about themselves while the tips of their shoes touched and she’d had the oddest feeling that if she sat there any longer she would have told him anything he wanted to know. So she really shouldn’t have been surprised when she’d looked at him as they sat in hyde park, him sketching away absently, his left hand intertwined with her right on their third date and the sunlight had caught in his brown hair making little streaks of red visible and he’d looked up and grinned as though he honestly couldn’t believe he was there with her and her heart had fluttered and she’d had to choke back three words from rushing from her heart.

And when they’d stood to leave and she’d summoned all the courage she possessed and said “Do you actually have somewhere you need to go, or were you just going home?” and he’d looked at her, his eyes hesitant as though he thought he knew what she was trying to be bold enough to ask but needed to be sure. Needed to be sure that she was sure before he said “I was just going home.” and she’d taken a deep breath and said “Would it be okay if I joined you?” and she’d laid in his arms afterwards feeling safe, and warm and cared for for the first time in a very long time, she’d had to choke back the words all over again. Because she may not be the most experience at relationships (which they were definitely in because he’d asked her hesitantly on her front step that first night they’d gone out together) but even she knew you couldn’t tell a man you loved him less than two weeks into a relationship. Even if you were certain it was true.

And she’d had to bite back the words so many, many times since that first moment. When he showed up with flowers for no apparent reason, when he bought her a new pair of socks even though he muttered honestly Sophie who gets cold in July, When he listened to her compliment an apple pie he’d supposedly made before he cracked and said I can’t lie, my Mum made it, I just put it on that plate. And it was getting harder and harder to stop herself from saying anything. And she knew it was ridiculous. She should be content just to be in the same room as him, really. To have him kiss her gently on the cheek and moan he name in her ear should be enough. But it wasn’t, she knew how she felt and she desperately wanted him to feel the same way. And maybe it was selfish, but it was the truth.

In the end it happens quite by accident, she doesn’t even really register she’s said it. “Kate’s invited us to dinner tonight.” Benedict had said casually, as he poured himself some cereal, and Sophie had had to actively stop herself from freezing. She was working on not being terrified of Benedict’s family. She’d had lunch with Kate and Lucy just yesterday and it had gone well, but even so, even when she’d been to their house before, Kate and Anthony separately but especially together were more than a little intimidating. Benedict seemed to look up to them so much Sophie couldn’t help herself from desperately wanting them to like her. She forced herself to hum nonchalantly, chewing her own cereal slowly. “That’s okay right? She apparently got us something from Switzerland. Well, they both did I assume.” He said watching her carefully.

Sophie felt her brow furrow “Kate and Anthony have a... gift for me?” She’d said, emotion nearly choking her, and Benedict had nodded slowly. Sophie had cleared her throat trying to stop tears from coming to her eyes as she swallowed the last mouthful, standing to put her bowl in the sink “Yeah that’s fine.” She said quietly and she could see Benedict grinning happily from the corner of her eye even before she turned around. ‘I’m only doing lunch service today so I’ll be done by 5 and then I’ll pick up a change of clothes and meet you here?” Benedict had nodded happily again and her heart had felt very full suddenly as she looked at this incredible person who had accepted her into his life. “I better go, or I’ll be late.” She said leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek. “See you tonight, love you.” And she left the room. She was at the front door opening it when she heard Benedict’s footsteps heavy on the floorboards, and suddenly it dawned on her what she’d said. Panic filling her chest as he rounded the corner.

“Ben I’m-” she started but he didn’t let her finish. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his lips meeting hers in a searing kiss and her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes, and she could feel them pricking at her own. “Sophie Beckett, I am so in love with you.” He said, his voice cracking a little and she felt a tear touch her cheek as her heart stopped altogether. She took a shuddering breath. “Good, Because I Love you too.” She said and his grin was very nearly blinding as he leant his forehead against hers, their noses touching “But I really have to go to work.” He laughed brightly before kissing her cheek, opening the door and saying “Have a good day at work, I Love you!”

And Sophie had to bite her lip to keep from smiling all day.

#bridgerton and sons au #benedict x sophie #benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #first i love yous #i guess #molly's asks and answers #sophie deserves everything good and i'm gonna give them to her in this au tbh

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years ago

Text

A Gift

Luke x ghost!reader

Summary: It's your birthday and you wish you could spend it with your family. Luke and the band try to cheer you up (super fluffy).

Requested?: Nope

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

A/n: This kinda came out of nowhere and once I had the idea I got carried away. I hope y'all like it!!

For you birthdays were a big thing when you were alive. You and your family would always go on a camping trip and have the time of your lives together. It wasn’t just limited to your family either, it was open to your friends too. It was your favorite tradition.

When you had met Luke, you had been looking forward to inviting him and the band, but then the fateful night at the Orpheum had happened. You and the rest of the band had died that night, now it was twenty-twenty and you were ghosts.

It had been great meeting Julie and forming a band with her, but as your birthday rolled around you were feeling immensely sad. Like Luke you had visited their family and you had seen them preparing to go on the camping trip in your honor. While it made you happy to see them keeping up the tradition, it also felt like a stab to the heart that you couldn’t be there with them.

In the days leading up to your birthday you had grown quiet and more reserved, struggling to find the energy to be happy. You couldn’t visit your family anymore, it just made you cry, but knowing that they were camping and you couldn’t be there also made you cry. It was a lose-lose.

So you had spent most of your time at the beach, watching the ocean and letting it calm you. There was something so relaxing about the way the waves moved and the push and pull of the tide. It was also nice to have privacy, just the crashing waves to keep you company.

It was inevitable that the band would notice your mood and absence of course, and notice they did.

You were at the beach, watching the ocean like normal. It was admittedly a beautiful day for your birthday. The sun was just breaking through the marine layer, creating bright orange patterns on the clouds.

Luke poofed in beside you, startling you out of your sad thoughts. The two of you had been dating since you got the band together and he was always there to comfort you.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. You sniffed in return.

“You didn’t think I would forget what today is, did you?” He asked, giving a small smile.

“No,” you answered, smiling a little bit.

“Good,” he stood up in front of you and grabbed your hands. “You are amazing and you are so great and understanding when it comes to me missing my parents, now it’s my turn to help you with your grief.”

You didn’t have time to respond before you felt the cold sand disappear from beneath you. The world shifted to new surroundings, ones that you definitely did not recognize.

“Luke?” You asked, letting go of his hand. You weren’t exactly in the mood for any surprises at the moment.

Luke moved back to standing in front of you. “Trust me on this, okay?”

He took your hand again and led you down a path. You looked around, trying to find anything that would clue you into where you were.

You slowly began to recognize your surroundings and you stopped walking. “What’s wrong?” Luke asked, stopping with you once he realized you weren’t moving.

“Luke, I-I’ve already visited, seeing them just makes me even sadder.”

“That isn’t why we’re here, Y/n/n. I’ve got a completely unrelated surprise for you.”

You hesitantly began to walk and Luke gave you an encouraging smile. “You are going to have a great day today. I promise.”

You gave him a weak and slightly nervous smile as you followed him. You walked over a hill and what you saw made you smile for real.

Julie and her family were setting up a campsite while the rest of the band and Flynn helped. After the whole Caleb fiasco Julie had let her family in on the ghostly little secret.

“Happy Birthday!” Luke exclaimed, gesturing excitedly at everyone.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” Everyone called, though Flynn, Carlos, Victoria, and Ray were a little late since they didn’t see your arrival.

You smiled at your found family. “Guys, this is so sweet.”

“Oh, this isn’t everything,” Reggie said excitedly. “Wait till you see what else we have planned.”

For the first time in a while, you forgot your grief and excitement replaced it. “I can’t wait.”

~~~~

After a few incredibly fun activities, you made it back to your campsite. The sun was still up and you had a while before everyone would eat dinner.

Still hyped up you had a lot of energy and you didn’t know if you could just sit around and chat or play cards. Thankfully Carlos suggested a game of Ultimate frisbee and once the words were out of his mouth, Reggie was chanting it to. You were definitely up for a game and from there, teams were formed.

It was you, Julie, and Alex versus Luke, Reggie, Flynn, and Carlos. You may or may not have specifically engineered it to have Alex on your team, him being the tallest gave an advantage.

You took on Luke. He smirked at you as Alex threw the frisbee to Julie and Flynn intercepted. You rolled your eyes and saw Flynn get ready to throw the frisbee at Carlos. Julie was trying to guard her and Alex was on Reggie, so in a split second you ran over to Carlos. You knew you were faster than Luke so you’d be able to get to Carlos and catch the frisbee first and fortunately you were right.

You intercepted and Luke tried to guard you, giving you a pouty face when Alex caught your throw. You smirked at him, running past Alex to the area near your goal. You had barely stopped running when Alex tossed the frisbee back to you. Luke was almost to you and Julie was open. You threw it to her and smiled as she caught it, scoring a point.

“We’ll get it next time,” Luke called running off towards his team's end of the field.

“Sure!” You called back, a bright smile on your face. However, Luke was right, his team scored the next two times and your team scored the last time before dinner, leaving you at a tie.

You all made your way back to the campsite and you ghosts sat down while the ‘lifers’ got their food.

“It was interesting seeing the frisbee get caught in midair.” Ray chuckled as he took his seat, almost sitting in Reggie before Julie warned him.

“Yes, I’m glad you were having fun,” Victoria said, patting Julie. You smiled at the gesture, trying not to feel sad about your own aunts.

Dinner was full of fun chatting and Julie translating for you and the guys. After dinner the guys got their instruments out and began to sing ‘happy birthday’ to you. You sang along so everyone could see you and it turned into an impromptu concert.

As the sun disappeared and the stars came out, you and your found family sang, enjoying the moment. You would definitely treasure these memories for years to come.

After you finished singing Luke came over to you. “Just close your eyes for a second,” he said, grinning at you like an excited puppy. You did what he asked, though rather reluctantly.

“Guys, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We wanted to,” Alex said.

You heard a lot of shuffling right in front of you and eventually Luke spoke. “Okay, open your eyes.”

In front of you was a small pile of gifts. “Guys-“

Luke cut you off before you could protest any further, “Stop, you deserve all of this and more. And don’t say you feel bad for not doing more for our birthdays, I know how long it takes you to knit those scarves.”

“Fine,” you smiled. “Which one first?”

“Ooo! Open mine!” Reggie begged, pointing at a cleanly wrapped box.” You unwrapped it, careful to make sure none of the trash went anywhere, and gasped at what you were holding. It was an incredibly detailed and beautiful sketch of a horse.

“Reggie, did you draw this?”

He nodded. “And it’s got the first country song we wrote together on it.”

You beamed at him. “We’ll get that country album some day,” you vowed, gently nudging Luke when he rolled his eyes.

“Mine next,” Alex requested, pointing to an even more elaborately wrapped box. You opened it to see Alex had decorated your old guitar strap, painting it with your favorite colors. You had been meaning to do that since you got it and you were grateful he had taken the initiative.

“I love it.”

“Good, I’m not that artistic so I didn’t know what to get you and then I remembered that you had been meaning to decorate your guitar strap since you got it, so I did it,” Alex rambled.

You laughed. “How very thoughtful of you.”

You turned your attention back to the rest of the stack, but Luke was already ready. “Here’s mine.”

“You took the small package from him and opened it. Inside was a little box and in that there was a necklace. The pendant was an old guitar pick branded with the sunset curve logo and with it was a little card in Luke’s messy handwriting: A memento of the band we started all those years ago.

“I think I’m gonna cry.” You put your hand to your mouth and Luke took the necklace from the box, putting it on you.

“I love you so much,” Luke whispered to you.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, kissing his cheek.

After admiring the necklace for a little while longer, you went to open the rest of the pile. Julie got you a gift card so you could shop together(you still only had your clothes from the nineties). Ray gave you a framed photograph of you guys at the garage party singing Edge of Great and Carlos got you a ball of yarn. Even Victoria even got you a little candle that you absolutely adored and Flynn got you a bracelet that matched one that she and Julie were wearing.

“Guys, these are all so great, I can’t thank you enough! You better bet I’ll be stepping it up for your guys’ birthdays.”

“Looking forward to it,” Carlos said, after Julie repeated what you said. He turned to his left and smiled at you and you laughed, you were sitting more to his right.

“Tell him that I can’t wait,” you requested and Julie obliged.

While she did that you got up and hugged everyone you could. “Guys, this could not have been a better day.”

“It’s not over yet. We have one last gift for you!” Reggie said excitedly and you smiled brightly, tears of joy forming in your eyes.

“You guys didn’t have to,” you protested, blushing at the kindness they had been showing you. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“Yes we did.” Julie sat down next to you and Luke sat on the other side, with an arm around you while Reggie and Alex leaned in behind you. You tilted your head as Julie turned on her phone and went to her camera roll.

You were about to ask what was going on when she played a video. Julie and the guys appeared on screen and you saw that they were standing outside the garage.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” They all yelled and you smiled, expecting them to do a little birthday recording of a song for you, but instead of getting their instruments Luke spoke.

“We noticed how sad you were about your parents and we had this idea...” with that the screen shifted.

You were only more confused when you recognized the inside of your parents house. It was easy to tell that the camera was filming from just inside your old kitchen. You watched curiously as Julie and your parents stepped into the frame.

“If you could say one thing to her, what would you say?” Julie asked and you realized she was talking about you.

Your mom sniffed, tears in her eyes. “I’d let her know how much I love her and how proud we are of her. I just wish we could tell her that. She was so talented, I just wish she could have lived her dream.”

Tears welled in your eyes at what your mom said, but they started falling when your dad spoke. “I’d wish her a happy birthday and tell her that I wish she could come camping with us. We kept up our tradition and I just wish she could know how much she meant-means to us. We missed out on so much with her and though we can’t get it back I hope she knows that we love her with all of our hearts.”

The video faded into a slideshow of some pictures of you, and in the background Now or Never was playing.

A good majority of the old pictures were taken during your camping trips and it was interesting to see how you had grown. When you were twelve, guitars began to appear in the pictures and there were quite a few ones of you playing around a campfire. Everyone was laughing in those, and it made you smile to remember when they were taken.

After the pictures of your family, they faded to pictures of you with the guys. There was even one of your first gig, you recalled that your mom had taken it. Your parents had been so excited for you. You had always felt so lucky to have such supportive parents.

From there, there were the newest pictures, ones of you with Julie and even some from your current camping trip that she must have added at the last minute.

After the last picture faded away you immediately grabbed all of your friends into a group hug. You couldn’t believe they had done this for you. You felt so unbelievably honored and touched.

You sniffed. “Guys, how did you do this?”

“Well, Alex, Reggie, and I got most of the pictures, we used some cameras to sneak them,” Luke explained.

“Yeah, it was not easy. I can’t count the number of times your parents almost saw the floating cameras,” Reggie said and you laughed.

You turned to Julie. “It means the world to me that you got my parents to say that. How?”

“I told them that I was trying to get to know the old band that had once practiced in my garage and from there they told me everything.” You hugged the girl tightly.

“I can’t begin to explain how much this means to me.” You opened your mouth to explain more, but nothing came out. “Just...this is...wow, guys. I-I just, thank you? I don’t know, thank you doesn’t sound like enough.”

“You don’t have to explain, Y/n, we’re just glad you liked it,” Alex said.

“After this, I’m gonna make sure you guys have great birthdays too.” Some more tears fell. “I just, wow.”

“So you liked it?” Luke asked and you beamed at him.

“I loved it.”

****

Tada, I hope y'all enjoyed this! Once I started writing it bloomed into this and I'm happy with what it came out to be. It's also been a while since I played frisbee, so sorry if the rules are wrong. Anyways, I loved writing this and I hope y'all have a fantastically safe and wonderful day/night!

Also if you want me to do more gender neutral fics just let me know, I only do she/her because that's what I’m most comfortable with, but please let me know if you want they/them on more stuff. I want to make this blog inclusive.

P.S. I am open to requests, but I won't get to them until after Halloween :) Please check my blog for the pinned post before requesting.

P.P.S. if you want to be on my taglist for all things Julie and the Phantoms, feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

#Julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms Luke #julie and the phantoms luke imagine #jatp x reader #jatp luke #jatp imagine #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #jatp one shot #a gift #luke one shot #one shot

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mysticsparklewings · 3 years ago

Photo

Ghosts of Snow and Sun

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Sneaking in one last wintry art piece for the month ❄️

I had this idea for ages inspired by a line from 2 different My Chemical Romance songs—Vampires Will Never Hurt You and The World is Ugly, and tried a softer, more painterly style to bring it life 👻 (Unlife?)

I’m still not sure which of the two versions I ultimately ended up with is better, but I am happy with the overall results. 🎨 Shall we talk about that dilemma? ⬇️

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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As sorta said before: This looks a bit different, no? 😆 This odd little artwork is one I had in the back of my mind for months, ever since I whipped up Echolocation back in July. I made the sketch back then toying with the idea of bringing it to life in gouache, but after getting the iPad for Christmas...Well, okay, at first I thought I'd end up using this other art app called "Art Set 4" because its reputation is all about how über-realistic the textures it has for things like oil paint are, but after reading up on the app and getting a mixed impression, I went back to Procreate and just found some oil paint replica brushes for it instead and combined those with the few default paint-like brushes Procreate comes with to get roughly the look I wanted. It's still not quite as textured as I think I might've gotten with the other app, but it's close enough all things considered.

To that end, this was my first proper attempt at digital painting, as my usual approach to digital art would be considered drawing or illustrating, I think. And it was the fact that I had such a strong image in my mind of what I wanted that allowed me to switch gears with any sort of confidence I could pull off something passable in the end.

As for where exactly that imagery came from, settle in for story time, Sparklers! To begin, the words on the piece (which once again are not a font, but rather hand-written and then a few letters copy & pasted because Procreate continues to delight me for hand-lettering) come from two different My Chemical Romance songs, Vampires Will Never Hurt You, and The World is Ugly. And the whole idea was born not only out of a desire in me to make more MCR fan art that has to do with individual songs/lyrics instead of just whole albums or well-known imagery from the band, but also because there's just something about "Ghosts in the snow, ghosts in the sun," that lurks in my brain like a crow after a shiny object. This is a very literal interpretation of the words, obviously—having an actual ghost in the snow and a shadow, which is effectively a ghost made by the sun—but A. I thought it was cute, and B. This was one of those rare times where the final artwork popped into my head 95% complete, and I do so hate to waste those opportunities when they come along. Truthfully, there's not much else I can say about the making-of process, though. 😅 Digital painting, as it turns out, at least for me, is a lot like the rare occasions where I paint with acrylics IRL. Once I have my basic shapes and outlines where I want them, there's a lot of "put paint on, blend it out to the point it almost can't be seen, realize what I've done, add more paint, try to add more noticeable shading but blend it out again when it starts to look too hard," rinse and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And repe But I did find trouble in that just about when I thought I was finished with the whole thing, I stared at it and couldn't help but feel what I'd managed to accomplish still wasn't close enough to the picture in my mind; The ghosts were too small, the background behind the white/snow ghost was too distracting, all the colors were still a bit more saturated than I was imagining, and why was the shadow ghost facing completely the wrong direction if that orb in the background is indeed the sun and not and early-rise moon? All that and more. 🫠 So I decided to tweak what elements I could to try and get closer to the version in my head as well as make what was there make slightly more logical sense. My mistake was that I did my tweaking on the original painting file without making a copy and really didn't preserve the "before" in case I changed my mind later. (I had saved a .PNG, but not a file with all the separate layers to make future editing possible without basically re-painting the whole thing anyway.) And truth be told, I'm still not sure which version I like better. Just while typing up this description I've changed my mind about 3 times as to which one I'll end up posting. 🙃 The tweaked version, as a friend of mine pointed out, has a more minimalist feel, and I can confirm the vision in my head definitely spoken to minimalism. But there's a certain charm to the original, even if it doesn't make as much visual sense, and I can't help but wonder if this is one of those instances where ignoring the logical aspects is worth it for the overall impression--Like how in Frozen there's that tiny moment where Elsa's hair clips through her shoulder. In normal viewing, you probably won't notice it, and it was necessary so her hair could transform without breaking the character model (at least if what I've heard via the internet is accurate, it might not be, but we'll pretend it is to prove my point) and so even though in real life hair can't clip through body parts like that, ultimately that inaccuracy was worth everything else it allowed to happen. I hope that makes sense and I didn't just ramble on for a whole paragraph for nothing. 😅 Which version did I end up going with? In the end, I settled for the tweaked version because...well, mostly reasons I've already stated, but also today when I woke up and had to finally decide, there was an unknown something ("je ne sais quoi") that kept me coming back to it in my fight to decide. I'm still not entirely sure if this is the "right" choice, but I really wanted to have this posted today and if I keep putting it off to debate which version it should be, it's likely it'll never go up at all and that's worse than picking the "wrong" version in my eyes. Either way, I do still like both versions, and I think that speaks to why just picking one was so hard--It's not that one version is technically worse than the other, it's that they're both good in their own ways and which one better fits the overall image I want other people to see is where I'm struggling. I think, if and when I can find the time, I might actually be interested in making a third version from scratch (well, from that initial sketch I had, anyway rather than from either of the two painted versions I've described) that leans even more minimalist and see if that serves as a sort-of tiebreaker, but I have other projects I want to move on with for a while first before I commit to that, which means it'll have to wait a while if it happens at all. At least in the meantime, I can take solace in knowing I accomplished my goal of a more painterly look and doing some lyric-specific MCR art. 🤷‍♀️ Now, I'm off to work on some of those "other projects" I mentioned because I have so very many ideas lately and not nearly enough time and motivation to do them all...😅

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

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A Father’s Love

pairing: steve rogers x reader ft. sarah rogers

requests:Hey, can I ask for a Steve Sarah fic where baby Sarah is injured or unwell and Steve is more distressed than the reader and cries holding Sarah and she assures him that she is fine and brave girl -anon 2. hi i love your writing!! i have a request for a headcanon or oneshot: i watched ww84 (which was not that good of a movie oof) but there was a romantic fireworks scene and it made me think of celebrating 4th of july with steve rogers on his birthday and just like, cuddling up next to him on a picnic blanket while watching him watch the fireworks and oh it just makes me so SOFT- anon

word count: 1,750

author’s note: pardon any mistakes! sorry for combining the requests, hope y'all still like it!

gif below was found on google

Never before in your life had you ever experienced such fear. Although the warm sun streamed down in rays, creating a happy scene, you were somewhere else. A place where nothing else mattered except for your daughter. Nerves, anticipation, and dread flooded your veins. Any parent would feel this way, especially under these circumstances. A majority of the time, you wouldn’t consider yourself a “helicopter parent,” even though Bucky and Sam would say otherwise. Now, was an exception because your four year old daughter was learning to roller skate in the cul-de-sac where her grandparents currently reside. Her little hand was interlaced with her father’s and the 6’2 man crouched down to be a bit shorter. He was anything but an expert in this field and that made you even more nervous as he’d occasionally slip. Before you could say anything to him, he’d just put a hand out, signaling that everything was okay, and you’d be left to bite down on your lip, silently channeling your fear.

From the looks of it, one would think you weren’t trusting of your husband and while that wasn’t the whole truth, you just knew he wasn’t the most...graceful and elegant human on planet earth. Rather he was the type of guy to fall and literally laugh it off. That was fine for him, but if your daughter fell on this rocky pavement, well, you’d both have another coming. Or at least that’s what you had assumed.

Sarah’s giggles echoed and you could hear your parents’ shouts of encouragement from the house. You were standing on the end of the driveway, eyes glued to the giant man and the tiny girl, happily skating around. After a few minutes, Sarah finally found her footing, so to say, and was actually skating without Steve’s support.

Finally, you dropped your shoulders and let out a sigh of relief at the two enjoying themselves. It was all going fine until Sarah was turning, like she had done so many times before, but this time happened to catch a rock under a wheel on her right skate.

In your mind, it all happened in slow motion, making your feet stay grounded, yet your conscience was “running” to her. Steve’s face looked absolutely mortified and he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain from the harsh contact, he immediately scooped up the girl.

For a moment, her lip quivered and Steve continued to soothingly stroke her hair, gazing into her watering eyes. Just when you thought the dam would break, Sarah swallowed her sobs, shook it all off, and stood from her father’s lap. She even held out a hand to help him up and he looked very shocked. Even more shocked than when you told him you were going into labor, which was quite the experience, one you preferred to not re-live.

Eventually, you joined the two and up close you could see that Steve had a single tear running down his face. You knew his worst fear was failing his daughter, he had told you so many years ago. Sarah noticed Steve’s sorrow and she got down once more to sit back on her heels. With gentle movement, Sarah wrapped her arms around the man’s broad shoulders and pulled him into the most lovable hug you’ve seen in ages.

“It’s okay, Daddy. Please don’t cry! See I’m just as brave as you!”

Your daughter then laid her head on his shoulder, the two of them in their own little world as usual. You hated to break them up, but they were currently sitting in the middle of the road and you’d rather not get hit by a car. Softly, you tapped Steve’s shoulder and he slowly rose up, Sarah in his arms and tired from the scare as well. The three of you made your way back up the driveway and into the house where your mother met you with the same nervous look you had once wore. Once a nurse, always a nurse, for she had a first aid kit in hand. You quickly reassured her and followed Steve back to your rooms.

Summer in New York City wasn’t that much enjoyable, so ever since Sarah had been born, you and Steve come in July to stay at your parents house. Today was Fourth of July and you helped your parents with their annual barbeque. That went well and then the whole roller skating incident happened and now here you were. It was 3 in the afternoon and since it was Steve’s birthday, you had some surprise plans for him later. He was unaware and had assumed you had forgotten his birthday, which you had not.

An hour later, you found Sarah in the pool with your parents while Steve sat on one of the lounge chairs, only khaki swim trunks on. You could tell he’d been out of the pool for a while as his hair was starting to look a bit fluffy. Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and in his lap you could see a sketch that he was tediously working on. Your daughter was too busy playing pool volleyball with her grandparents, that the three were yet to notice your presence. Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you strutted over to Steve and sat on the edge of his seat where you gently tapped his leg to gain his attention.

“Whatcha working on, Grant?”

Steve peered up at you, his smile possibly even brighter than the sun that reflected on you both. He silently passed off the sketchbook to you. The sketch depicted the scene happening before your eyes, your parents bonding with Sarah, all of them wearing large grins and laughter. It was the kind of picture that could lift someone's mood in an instant, all because Steve was the best at portraying emotions in his artwork.

“So, birthday boy, I have some plans for you… that is if you are still up to it.” You motioned to his current laid back state and Steve looked down at himself to see what you meant. He was curious as to what you had planned, having told you not to plan anything for his birthday.

“Oh honey, I told you not to do anything.” Steve looked at you disapprovingly, his sunglasses now pulled down so you could feel the full effect of his “glaring.”

“It’s not everyday that a wife gets to celebrate her husband’s...” Pausing, you did some quick mental math (that may have not been accurate) and came to an answer, “102nd birthday!”

At that, Steve lurched forward and pulled you onto his lap, placing a kiss on your temple as his arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

“You spoil me too much, doll.” A simple hum was your only reply and you leaned back into his embrace.

----

About an hour later, both you and Steve got quick showers and tidied up a bit. The only thing Steve had heard about where you were taking him, was that it wasn’t too fancy as you told him to dress casual. As Steve got ready, you asked Sarah if she wanted to come along, but instead she decided to stay back and make some cookies with your mom.

The two of you then met at the front door where you kissed Sarah goodbye and headed off to the car. Just as Steve was about to get in the driver’s seat, you stole the keys from his grasp and gave him a small “tsk tsk” causing the man to laugh. Earlier, while Steve had gotten dressed, you had been able to sneak out and put a prepared picnic basket in the trunk of the car along with a large blanket. For Steve’s birthday, you were taking him to see fireworks at a nearby park. You knew how much of a sucker he was for fireworks and a good, old fashioned, park picnic.

As you pulled into the entrance of the park and globs of people sat out on the field, Steve’s eyes started to sparkle with excitement and you couldn't help but grin at him.

“Babe, is this what I think it is?”

You put the car in park and turned in your seat to fully face Steve, “If you’re thinking fireworks and a picnic, then you’re right. I’m sorry it’s not a lot, but I know how much you-”

Before you could finish your unnecessary apology, Steve sweetly grabbed your face and pulled you in for an enchanting kiss.

“It’s perfect, (y/n).”

Steve’s face softened into a loving look and his azure eyes looked the slightest bit shiny in the moonlight.

You parted away from the man and exited the car, heading to the trunk where Steve met you. He helped carry the picnic basket despite your pleas for him to not do so.

The park wasn't too crowded, but there were just enough people for you and Steve to have to search around for a good ten minutes. Eventually you spotted this place under a tree that wasn’t too surrounded and had a perfect view of where the fireworks would be.

Swiftly, you laid out the plaid picnic blanket and Steve then set down the picnic basket that was filled with the components of your dinner. You began to set out the prepared food, even bringing out a candle, albeit fake, that provided some romantic and not overwhelming lighting.

Since you both had arrived twenty minutes before the show started, it allowed for you and Steve to enjoy the dinner peacefully. You had even packed some desserts but those would be for during the show as a little something to snack on.

Just as the show started, you had finished packing away the last of the Tupperware containers and now settled in between Steve's legs, his chest providing use as a pillow. The man delicately rested his chin on your shoulder and in return, you lovingly rubbed his forearms that laid in your lap.

“Thank you for the best birthday, my love. You’ve given me so much over these past few years and I swear I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

It was a whisper in your ear, but you still heard it over the loud crackling of the fireworks.

With a warm smile and quiet giggle, you brought his hand to your lips and placed a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Only you could pull off such a cheesy line, Rogers.”

#this one is kind of trash im sorry #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers one shot #dad steve rogers #dad steve rogers x reader #sarah rogers #steve x sarah #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction

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phantom-curve · 3 years ago

Note

For your prompts: 5. trepverter for Willex, please?

this one kind of got away from me, but hopefully it still mostly captures the essence of the prompt! and if not, it's at least a cute little fluffy Willex moment that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. set in an AU where the boys are alive, here is some flustered Alex ft. supportive Reggie and Luke.

trepverter - a witty response or comeback you think of only after it's too late to use (Rated T for swearing with a Trigger Warning for mentions of homophobic parents)

They say hindsight is 20/20 but Alex never really paid much attention to that until the day he found himself knocked flat on his back, elbows scratched and head pounding as if he had been hit by a freight train instead of an irresponsible skateboarder. It probably didn’t help that he had been in the middle of trying to calm himself down, all the signs of an impending anxiety attack mounting within his system until he had finally just put his feet to the pavement and started walking to get some of the overwhelming energy worked out of his system. He probably could have been more attentive, more aware of exactly where he was going and who was headed his direction, but he figured it would be fine on a random Wednesday morning in October when the tourists weren’t really around and most kids his age were in school.

Alex wasn’t in school because his parents had withdrawn tuition payments after he had finally worked up the courage to tell them he wouldn’t be bringing a nice girl home because he didn’t want to date any girls, in fact he would much prefer to date some boys, but the pressure of keeping his identity a secret hadn’t made that possible either so he was done hiding and he hoped they could accept that. Turns out they couldn’t accept that, or him, once he made it obvious he wasn’t going to go back in the closet or give any girl the chance to “change his mind”. As if that was even possible.

It hadn’t been a big blowout, more of a silent retreat, his parents completely withdrawing any and all support from his life over the course of the last few months. And apparently that included tuition, as Alex had discovered that morning when the school called to inform him they had finished completing his withdrawal forms, and they would be sad to see him go. Which had led him to the boardwalk, and then directly into the path of whatever hooligan that had crashed into him. Maybe if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut for 3 more years he wouldn’t be lying here, breathless and bruised, and still on the cusp of absolutely losing it.

Hindsight, Alex thought to himself as he stared up at the clear blue LA sky, can absolutely kiss my ass.

“Awh, man!” A voice above him whined. “You dinged my board!”

Alex toppled off of the anxiety ledge and straight into an ocean of lost control.

“Dinged your board? Dinged your board!? Dude, you ran me over!”

He punctuated his statement by leaping to his feet, which would have probably been a lot more threatening if he didn’t immediately stagger, hand held to his head as the world spun and his stomach rolled.

“Oh shit.”

The voice cursed quietly, and then Alex felt warm hands against his biceps, steadying him until everything slowly came back into focus. There was a boy standing in front of him, black cracked helmet perched on his head, soft brown eyes staring at him with a tinge of concern and remorse. When it was clear Alex was steady once more, he released his grip and offered an easy-going smile.

“You’re right, man, I totally pancaked you. My bad, are you okay?”

There was a weird feeling in Alex’s gut. Not the kind of sickening wave of nausea he had experienced when he first stood, but more of a fluttery feeling. His brain had quieted somewhat, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just look where you’re going next time.”

His voice came out soft and almost breathy, not at all the warning tone he had meant to use, and Alex could feel his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment. The other boy’s smile grew. He reached up and unclipped his helmet, lifting it off and then tossing his head back as a cascade of long brown hair tumbled out. A few stray pieces fell to rest alongside his face and Alex felt his mouth fall open slightly. His stomach swooped and then dropped completely, like he had just plummeted from a rollercoaster and his mind went blissfully blank. Everything narrowed down to the absolutely beautiful boy standing in front of him, face awash in golden morning light, cheeks flushed from his exertions, dimples and white teeth on full display as he grinned yet again. Alex wasn’t sure he had ever met someone so blindingly attractive in his entire life, and then the boy winked, winked!, and lifted a hand out towards him.

“I’m Willie.”

It was the best name Alex had ever heard of. When their palms met, a spark shot up his arm and straight to his heart.

“Alex.”

Thank God he remembered how to talk, because he truly hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his mouth. Willie released his grip and Alex left his hand suspended for just a second before he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jean jacket.

“Nice to meet you, Alex. Listen, I really am sorry about knocking you over. Any chance I can make it up to you?”

It took Alex an uncomfortably long amount of time to process what Willie was asking. Long enough for him to panic and wonder if it was like a date or if it was like a pity thing or oh God what if Willie wasn’t even into guys and Alex was about to make this whole thing super weird and –

A chirping sound came from Willie’s pocket. His eyes flitted away from Alex’s to pull a phone out and check the screen. Alex felt a strange twist in his heart as he watched Willie’s easy smile fall only to be replaced by an annoyed grimace and eyeroll as he silenced the phone. Without skipping a beat, he thrust it back into his pocket and pulled out a sharpie instead. Alex barely had time to register how much he liked the way Willie’s hand felt on his forearm before the other boy was suddenly bent over it and there was a cool sensation sending goosebumps up his arm as the tip of the marker scratched across his skin. When Willie pulled back, that brilliant smile was back in place and his eyebrows were dancing so merrily Alex wanted nothing more than to watch them forever.

“I gotta go, but that’s my number. Text me sometime.”

And then, before Alex could work up the nerve to say anything, Willie was tossing his skateboard to the ground only to chase after it with a few bouncy steps before jumping onto the deck and quickly making his way down the boardwalk, away from Alex. He watched for longer than it was probably acceptable until Willie was nothing more than a speck in the distance. Only then did he look down to see the numbers sketched onto his forearm in orange ink.

(213) 555-3276 Willie<3

It was the heart that did him in. That heart had to mean something, right? It was intentional. Willie had written his name with a heart. Alex wasn’t making that up, it was inked onto his own arm! He studied it as he sat on the beach, mind silently replaying every single second of his short interaction with Willie over and over again while different groups of people came and went around him. There had to be a reason for the heart. Alex fiddled with the braided rainbow bracelet on his wrist, the motion familiar and soothing. Had Willie noticed it when he grabbed Alex’s arm to write his number on? Was the heart some kind of sign?

Alex let out a groan and fell back against the sand, the texture scratchy against the back of his head where a slight throbbing still persisted. Another silent reminder of his morning encounter. He wished he had thought to say something when Willie had asked him about making it up to him. Wished he hadn’t panicked or let his stupid brain go into overdrive worrying about what might happen for so long that nothing ended up happening. If he could go back, he would have told Willie, yeah, he could make it up to him. Maybe take him out to coffee or dinner and a movie or ya know, just any kind of date in general? But Alex wasn’t that smooth, and he wasn’t quite that confident yet. And now all he had was a number in orange ink and a name with a heart and absolutely no answers to the millions of questions crowding his brain.

He let out a deep sigh and sat up again, before finally climbing to his feet. It wouldn’t do to sit and worry, even if that was kind of his specialty. Luke had a girlfriend now. And Julie was incredible, and Luke was a disaster, so obviously the guy had to have some kind of game. Alex couldn’t quite believe it, but maybe he could give him an idea of what to do in this situation. Alex turned his feet towards the apartment the boys had been sharing since Luke turned 18 and left his parents’ house for good and started the long walk back to their shared home.

Luckily, both Luke and Reggie were home, which meant Alex had two sounding boards for his word vomit as he paced in front of where they were sat on the couch. Reggie was kind of like a puppy in the sense that all he had to do was exist and people flocked to him, so he also had more experience than Alex did when it came to figuring out someone’s true intentions after a first meeting. By the time he had finished giving the boys the run down, he was feeling like they might be able to put their collective braincell to use and figure out exactly what the best course of action would be here.

“Yeah, man, I got nothing.”

Alex groaned and Luke held up his hands defensively.

“Look, dude, just cause I’m dating Julie doesn’t mean I know how I pulled it off! I’m just hoping my luck holds out until I can convince her to marry me, okay?”

Reggie was nodding thoughtfully, so Alex held out hope that maybe he would have some words of wisdom.

“I mean, he sounds like he wanted to at least like...talk to you some more, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given you his number. And the heart is promising!”

Alex let it soak in for a second. An idea struck him out of nowhere.

“What if I just text him and tell him he can make it up to me by going on a date?”

“Bold moves, dude. I like it”

Of course, Luke liked it. It was a very Luke-inspired move. But Alex didn’t quite have the same guts as Luke. He didn’t think he could really pull it off.

“Ugh, no. My anxiety would skyrocket the second I sent the text. I just wanna know what the heart means!”

“Why don’t you ask him that then?”

Alex didn’t like how Reggie was the voice of reason here. That was supposed to be his job.

“Because if I ask him that he’ll know I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have been thinking about it all day.”

Alex finally reached his physical limit and stopped his pacing to fling his body onto the couch between Luke and Reggie, both boys catching different limbs and silently shifting to accompany his sudden presence.

“I don’t want him to know I’ve been thinking about it all day! That’s pathetic. Ugh, why didn’t I just say something in the moment!”

Reggie’s fingers were gentle against Alex’s scalp as he carded a hand through his hair reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Lex. You’ll think of something to say when the time is right. Release your worries to the wind and all that other junk, ya know? Just breathe.”

So, Alex breathed and tried to surrender his obsession into the ether. Reggie had been on a bit of a self-help kick lately, but honestly, it did help Alex more often than not, so he resolved to try and follow his best friend’s advice, even as his anxiety raged against the idea.

Turns out, the right time was exactly 11:43 pm when Alex suddenly awoke from a dead sleep where his dreams had been invaded by none other than Willie himself. He looked down at the number, the hastily scribbled name, and the accompanying heart bright against his pale skin even in the darkness of night and typed the message into his phone before he could think twice about it.

To: Willie<3 Considering you pancaked me, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me with a pancake breakfast. 9 am at Sandy’s Diner?

The responding message was almost instantaneous.

You’ve got yourself a date. Catch ya in the morning, pancake ;)

And for the second time that day, Willie wiped Alex’s mind completely blank, the word date playing on repeat until he fell asleep with his lips still curved into a smile, visions of a certain long-haired pretty boy dancing through his head.

#in other news this is my 1000th blog post!#feels appropriate to honor that with Alex losing his mind over Willie for 2k words straight #mads writes #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willex fic

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omniswords · 4 years ago

Text

Storm Soundtrack [Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng]

I'm so honored to have been part of @mlwriterzine , and even more honored to write about my two favorite things: Marinette's birthday, and Luka 😂 We just got permission to post our pieces, so here was mine.

Anyway, enjoy!

New York.

She was going to New York.

And she was eighteen.

Marinette had heard a lot about both of these things. That because she was eighteen, she could drive—except in New York she could have been driving at least a year ago. (Not that anyone drove in New York anyway, because it was, according to Mrs. Bourgeois, a total nightmare.) And because she was eighteen, she could drink—except in New York she’d have to wait three more years, the reason for which was beyond her, especially considering she wasn’t terribly keen on drinking in the first place. And because she was eighteen, she could play the lottery—and in that respect, at least New York was the same—but it didn’t mean much to her when she felt such a stinging guilt about getting money that she hadn’t really earned.

Somehow, it all already felt like too much, and she was only hours in. Still in the middle of her own birthday party, even. And the one thing that had not, and probably would not change, she noted grimly, was that she still didn’t know what to do when everyone gathered to sing “Happy Birthday.”

Seriously, what was she supposed to do? Sing along? Clap? Dance? Smile and wave, boys, smile and wave?

Did anyone know?

Marinette was more than relieved when the song ended—partly because it meant she didn’t have to just sit here awkwardly, and partly because it gave her a few moments of silence and darkness except for the candles on the cupcake arrangement in front of her. She gathered her hair back, closed her eyes, and at least tried to make a wish. She never knew what to wish for, either. The fact that she had friends, family, and her own health was enough of a blessing, but it was still fun to act a little mysterious if anyone asked about it. And besides, she could always say, sometime after she’d opened her gifts in the privacy of her room, that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

Because, well, it wasn’t a lie. She had gotten exactly what she wanted. She was happy with her best friends from middle and high school filling the apartment, with her father presenting her with a cupcake specially decorated with fondant and edible glitter, even with her grandmother coming all the way from Italy and offering to take her out for a nighttime motorcycle ride on the town. She was eighteen, and happy, and for the first time in a while, she felt like she’d really earned it.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she jolted to attention so quickly she nearly dropped her cupcake. When she turned, though, relief flooded her at the sight of Luka standing there, with his easygoing smile and his guitar strapped to his back. His face was flushed, and his hair and clothes were starting to cling to him. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the end-of-July heat getting to him or the fact that he might have biked all the way to her house at top speed.

“Hey,” he said with a two-finger salute.

Marinette couldn’t help smiling up at him; somehow, she always forgot how tall he’d gotten over the years, how he stood proudly at almost six feet when she considered it a miracle that she’d broken past five. “You made it!” she chirped, having the foresight to set her cupcake down before she let him envelop her in a hug and kiss her on both cheeks.

“Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Not even for an extra shift.” He let go of her, gracing her with a wink.

Part of her wanted to laugh behind a hand, but there was too much of her that felt too guilty. This close, it wasn’t hard to catch the circles under Luka’s eyes. He’d been working himself ragged lately. He always had been, she knew; he felt like he had to earn his keep for most things the same way she did. But it seemed like it had been particularly hard on him, or like he’d been particularly hard on himself, since he graduated high school a couple of years ago. Like he wasn’t just trying to earn anymore—he was trying to provide.

Still, it never seemed like it was something he wanted to dwell on, or something he ever wanted her or anyone else to worry about. So if he dismissed it with a smile and a wink, or a message that he was just a bit tired, then what could she do about it but worry quietly?

Marinette nodded toward his guitar. “Do you want to play?” she asked. “Or do you want to put it up in my room so it’s safe?” Or do you need a nap? You definitely look like you could use a nap. Oh God, wait, I’m not inviting you like that, I promise—

“I can keep it upstairs for now,” Luka agreed—to her relief, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could think in those circles. With a casual wave to her parents and friends, he followed her up the stairs to her room. Marinette couldn’t help a scowl and a blush when she caught the knowing grin on Alya’s face.

Really? Really?

Together, they looked for a safe place to stow away his guitar. Luka ended up tucking it in the space between her work desk and her vanity, under her loft. “I always forget how cool your room is,” he said offhand. “It’s very… you.”

“Me?” Marinette looked around, brow furrowed. None of her stuff was packed away yet—she still had a month before she was supposed to leave—but it still looked like an organized clutter of fabric, sketches, decorations that only seemed to go together if you squinted. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s got your vibes. A little scattered, but mostly put together, and cozy. Safe.” If he laughed then, it was to himself, and she could barely hear it. But she felt it. And she thought she liked feeling it. He wove past her, never studying one corner or wall for too long, until his eyes landed on the skylight. “Is that how you get up to your balcony?”

“Huh? Oh… Yeah!” Marinette was halfway up the steps to her bed before she realized what she was doing, and she managed an awkward laugh. “I just climb right up, you know?”

This time, when Luka laughed, she could hear it and feel it. A rumble, a warmth in her stomach. “You must have some crazy upper body strength.” He paused, running his hand along the banister. “Say… If it wouldn’t be weird, any chance I could meet you up there after this is over?”

“After?” The question shouldn’t have stunned her as much as it did, or make her blush as much as it did; that wasn’t the summer heat she was feeling in her cheeks. “Uh, yeah! After! Sure, yes… Cool.”

Luka was still smiling, even as his voice dropped to a murmur. “Cool,” he said, though it sounded more like a breath. As he slipped past her and jogged down the stairs back to the party, Marinette couldn’t help the way her gaze lingered after him. Even if it did take a moment for it to really sink in.

Cool.

Cool, cool, cool.

Marinette was most definitely not cool.

———

The funny thing was, the more Luka seemed to change and grow into himself—taking the bac, finishing high school, kicking up his work to full-time and then some—the more most of him seemed to stay the same. He made nice with practically everyone; he let Juleka get seconds on the cupcakes before he’d even had firsts; he tapped his toes to whatever music was playing and drummed his fingers along the armrest of the couch like it was a keyboard or the neck of his guitar. And he insisted, as the party wound down and her other friends and family were leaving, on helping her parents clean the apartment so they could rest easy. “Ma may be the champion of messes and chaos at home,” he said with a casual shrug, “But she still taught me to pull my own weight as soon as I could walk.”

It sounded right, and Marinette couldn’t tell who was smiling wider: her, or her father.

Probably her.

Of course it’d be her.

He was good at pulling his weight, though, lugging around a large trash bag and wrapping up trash in the vinyl tablecloth they wouldn’t be using again. It was… sweet. Almost as sweet as the times that he would pause in the middle of some task, smile at her from across the room, and then turn right back to his work. He’d been doing that for years now, and it still made her stomach flutter—sometimes when she didn’t want it to. Most of the time, she’d started to realize, she did want it to.

“Will you be safe getting home, Luka?” Marinette’s mother called from the kitchen over the sound of rushing water. “I know you told your sister not to wait up for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied, casual and calm as always as he tied off the trash bag and handed it to her father. “I just have to get my guitar from upstairs. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Marinette would swear that, on his way to the dumpster outside, her father was watching her suspiciously as she and Luka scurried up the stairs to her room, as though she wasn’t going to be on her own an entire ocean away in a matter of weeks. She understood her father, she really did, but he didn’t always have to be so… adamant, about how he’d always see her as his little girl. At least he’d had the good sense not to say so during the party. She hoped he’d have the good sense not to say anything after Luka left, too.

Luka’s guitar was tucked away right where he left it. He took it by the neck and made for the stairs that led up to her balcony. “Can we?” he asked, actually sounding halfway uncertain. “I’ve never been up there before.”

She nodded so fast she was afraid her head might come clean off, but she managed to laugh at herself with him, however nervous. She followed him up the steps, hoisting herself up onto the balcony; Luka lagged behind, not just to hand off his guitar to her, but also to toss his shoes up and climb up after them. “Didn’t wanna step on your blankets with my sneakers. Who knows what they’ve stepped in.”

Honestly, Marinette was too busy staring in awe at how easily he’d pushed himself up to care about that. Or about the heat, even this late at night, whipping across her skin. Had he always had muscles like that? And when did that snake tattoo get there?

He offered her a sheepish shrug as he closed the latch; of course he’d noticed her staring. “Boat,” was all he said in explanation as he pulled on his sneakers and tied them up again. He held out both hands for the guitar, and she gave it to him so mechanically that she’d barely realized she’d done it.

“So, um…” Now the end of July was getting to her; she had to shrug out of her flannel and tie it around her waist and put up her hair to keep it from tickling and clinging to the back of her neck. She hoped he didn’t mind, but she always got the sense he thought candid fit her best. “What’d you want to come up here for?”

Luka tilted his head. “I wanted to give you your present.” As though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Almost instantly, Marinette’s stomach lurched. A gift? For her? In private? “Luka,” she began, though her insistence sounded weak, “you know you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He shrugged again. “Is that okay?”

“I… Yeah, of course it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell you it’s not okay—”

He laughed under his breath; it should have flustered her, but, instead, she only felt more comfortable. Strangely so. “Okay,” he said. “Get comfy.”

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t ask questions, no matter how much she wanted to. She only settled in her deck chair, keeping her eyes on him as she grabbed a nearby hand fan. It kept her cool, sure, but more than anything it gave her hands something to do. For some reason, they always needed that, especially when she was asked to do mostly nothing. She only fanned herself faster when he fished out a pick and readjusted his guitar in his lap, poised to play.

Oh, God.

A song. She should have known.

The summer heat meant that Luka needed some extra time to tune the guitar, but he did it with such a practiced hand that Marinette couldn’t help but be impressed, even after all these years of knowing him. With one last strum, he was ready, and already she felt it soothing the pit of her heart. “All right,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

She didn’t know whether to close her eyes and let the music flow through her, or keep her eyes open and watch it come to life in him instead. The song, low and easygoing, made the choice for her, calmed her into a half-lidded lull and slowed her hand. She heard rain in how he played, the patter of it against skylights and window panes, the rumble of a summer evening thunderstorm in the low tones. She heard it as much as she felt it in her heart. And even though her gaze caught on the way his fingers danced along the fretboard, and the way he picked at those strings, she lingered on his face much more. How he didn’t even have to look at his own instrument to know so intimately how it worked. How he chewed on his lip, so focused, that it’d probably be swollen and red by the time he was done. Maybe most importantly, how deep the circles and lines under his eyes ran into his skin.

He hadn’t been running himself ragged for work.

He’d been running himself ragged for her.

When Luka finished, soft and slow, he had a smile on his face that so easily matched his own music—that so easily disappeared when he met her eyes. “Marinette,” he said, looking frozen. “You’re crying.”

She hadn’t realized it until then, but now that he’d said something she could feel her own tears, heavy and trickling down her cheeks. Hastily, she rubbed them away with the sleeve of her sweater. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It was just… really beautiful, I don’t know what to say. It made me want to hear it all the time. It made me want to…”

To stay in Paris a little longer.

To say all the things she should have said months ago. Maybe years ago.

To hold his hand, and sit where his guitar sits, and let him wipe the tears away, and swallow up all the times he’d told her he wanted to play music that sounded just like her, and—

“Marinette?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard. Sat up straight, and moved to sit in front of him, until their bare knees bumped together in the night. She could reach for his hand, but she didn’t. “Can you play it again?”

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #ml writer zine #y'all i was so excited when i got to write this #so i hope you get to enjoy it too

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