#The wonky lines and thickness are a ☆ feature ☆

[the-contraire-of-zugzwang]

hehe class doodles go brrrrrrrr

[vaimetanyx]

"...Stygius, the Blade of the Underworld, must have been amongst the finest weapons ever wielded..." - Stygian Blade entry, Codex of the Underworld.

Unfortunately this one isn't so fine and needs a remake, but here's how it was made while I work on Stygius 2

(Full process under the cut)

[Skull pauldron] [Belt] [Greaves] [Toga + sash] [Wig + Laurels] [Armbands] [Flaming feet] [Satyr Sack] [Stygius v1] [Stygius v2] [Nectar]

Unfortunately Stygius was the victim of con time crunch, and I wasn't even sure I'd be able to make the rest of my outfit in time for the con so Stygius, as a prop, had the lowest priority. But hey for a sword done from scratch in a week, not too bad.

I guessed all the measurements (which ended up making Styg 1 a hand and a half sword instead of the one handed sword it should be) and made a pattern. From there I was able to cut out a base, attach a handle, and then cover it in EVA foam. I then proceeded to so a VERY wonky job on the blade bevels, and even took a few chunks out, which meant I had to use foam clay on some parts of the edges which ended up leaving an inconsistent finish once it was painted.

For the skull I used spare EVA foam for the base, built up the bulk with aluminum foil and hot glue, then used more foam clay to sculpt the features and create depth (and ideally for that thickness it should have had several more days to set). The leaves were just some cut and dremelled EVA foam, and the pommel base was, you guessed it, more EVA foam and foam clay.

The gem was made from epoxy resin, and poured into a mould I made out of cardboard, sticky tape and some plastic lining, and coloured with some watercolour pigment. Somehow that actually worked.

I primed the whole thing with plastidip, and next was Spray Paint Hell. I had to do it all in one day, and the masking tape I was using to protect the parts I'd already done started pulling off the actual paint and sometimes the plastidip when I tried to remove it. I don't have a lot of experience with spray paints so my coats also weren't to the standard I wanted, and there was overspray despite my best efforts.

The spray paints I used were cheap and it showed. So I decided that they would be a base coat, and that the whole thing should be hand painted over most of the sections in order to achieve the correct colours, and in the case of the skull, match the other bone accessories. My sister helped do a lot of the base coats while I was at work so I could focus on detail work when I got home, and even there I was still painting the night before.

To tie everything together I did a few coats of gloss spray the morning of the con. Unfortunately, it didn't quite dry so it stuck to the surface it was resting on when I did the other side, which caused most of the paint defects. However, it was finished in time for the con and luckily the worst of the marks were on the back.

The main issue to address with Stygius 2, besides not doing an absolute catastrophe of a paint job last minute, is to fix up the hilt. It's too long and thick, the pommel is too chunky and badly shaped, and the gem is the wrong colour. The skull could also use more sculpted depth and a bit more shading to make it really stand out.

[mettywiththenotes]

*puts on my Delusional thinking cap*

Okay so... I feel like the painting Will gave Mike in the van is not the same painting in the first ep of season 4

Here’s a comparison

What we first saw

What was shown

Both paintings show the same colours - black, brown, crimson, someone with black hair, a stick (something thin at least). Those are the most distinguishable features

But it strikes me as odd that, in the progression shot of the painting, the crimson and brown of the “dragon” is so thick. Looking at the dragon on the bottom picture, I can’t think of anywhere where the thick bold lines fit on the dragon except it’s wing (where the red line is)

But even then, the angle shot in the first screencap suggests the black blob and stick are opposite of the red, next to it at least, whereas the wing is up in the air and not at all near the character who is supposed to be Mike

If that thick crimson in the screencap was supposed to be a part of the dragon’s body, then it doesn’t match. The red on the dragon is lighter than the brown and crimson are. If Will were to try and blend the colours together and then paint the shape of the dragon, that would be one thing, but what he is painting in the first screencap is so dense that I just can’t see any way that that shape would become the dragon

So, I honestly think this is a fake-out. Both paintings have the same features shown - a big crimson colour, what looks like a person with a blob of black hair, some kind of stick that could be mistaken for a sword or a weapon, and other figures next to them. The angle in the first screencap is just wonky enough to make you maybe not question the placement of everything. It has enough of the same colours and shapes to make you nod and think “yeah, they’re both the same one”

But it’s not the same. I’m so sure those are different paintings

Which makes me wonder if 1 of 4 things happened

1) Will mistakenly picked up the wrong painting but ran with it once he realized

2) Will’s dragon painting is a sort of fail-safe. Like, he painted both of those pictures but took and showed the commissioned dragon one because it was safer than revealing all his vulnerable feelings with such a heartfelt painting as the one in the first screencap

3) Will got home from the airport and painted over his first painting

4) The dragon painting is not Will’s painting at all, it’s some kind of poster he bought, but he played it off like it was his own

Perhaps it is just me being delusional but... I really don’t think they’re the same one

[bogleech]

“INSTANT LINE ART” TRICK FOR THIN AND NOODLY THINGS:

Just draw your thin, noodly things as thick brush lines

Select their whole area

Find the “increment” feature if it’s present in your art program, which expands the size of a selection. I clicked it a couple times to make an increment of a couple pixels.

On a lower layer, fill that area in black.

Now it looks like your shapes had line art all along!!!

On an UPPER layer, try fleshing out little details and touching up anything that came out wonky.

[unbridgeabledistances]

ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3

--

It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.

“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.

Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.

He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.

Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”

Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.

“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”

Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”

Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”

“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”

Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”

Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”

Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”

Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”

Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…

“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”

Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.

“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.

“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”

Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”

Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”

Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”

Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”

Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”

Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”

Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”

Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”

Ian smirked. “Green?”

“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.

Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”

Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”

Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”

Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.

When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.

Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.

“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”

Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.

Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”

“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”

Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…

As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.

Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”

The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”

Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.

Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”

Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”

Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.

A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.

Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.

“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”

Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”

Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”

“Yup.”

Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”

“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.

Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”

Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.

But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.

By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

part two here!

[yeah-klave]

Jungle Dreams

Written, with love, for EnKlave Fest 2021. 

Prompt: Sneaking away into the jungle. 

Genre: Smut, with a side of fluff.

Word length: 2.1k.

Warning: Explicit sexual content (18+ only, please).

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

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

Finally out of sight and earshot of the camp, they stumbled through the undergrowth, laughing and kissing and fumbling, hands blindly pulling at clothes in their haste. Dave gently pushed Klaus against the trunk of a tree and attached his lips to Klaus’ neck.

“I didn’t think we’d ever get chance to sneak away!” Klaus gasped, tipping his head back and frantically grasping at Dave’s shoulders.

“Dramatic,” Dave breathed heavily, his lips pressing kisses along Klaus’ jawline. He took the lobe of Klaus’ ear into his mouth and sucked hard. Klaus shivered and Dave grinned, grazing his teeth along the flesh before giving it a sharp nip.

Klaus gasped and clutched at Dave, raking his fingernails through Dave’s gloriously mussed curls.

“It’s been three days, Dave,” he whined. “Three whole days. I’m practically dying here. Dying of blue balls.”

Dave huffed a laugh. “What a tragically fitting end for Vietnam’s biggest drama queen.”

He sucked a kiss into Klaus’ skin, just below the line of his collar.

“Oh, Daaa-vuh,” Klaus moaned, clawing desperately at Dave’s back. “Please can you stop being funny and charming for one second and just fuck me already?!”

Dave grinned and caught Klaus’ eye. “Certainly, your highness,” he added with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Klaus rolled his eyes, but hurriedly turned in Dave’s arms, his hands scrambling to unbuckle his pants. With a flourish, he let them drop around his ankles. Then he leaned forwards slightly, holding on to the tree trunk for support. He looked back at Dave over his shoulder and pointedly spread his legs.

Dave grinned again, leaning his head to one side and taking in the view.

Klaus huffed, his eyebrows comically crinkling together in an adorable frown.

Dave moved forwards and reverently ran his hands over the pale skin of Klaus’ ass. He gave the right cheek a proprietary little squeeze, then gave it a light slap, watching the glorious jiggle of the flesh.

“Please hurry up,” Klaus sighed, his eyes huge and beseeching.

Finally, Dave acquiesced. He couldn’t deny those eyes anything.

He dug into the deep pocket of his pants and drew out the little jar of lube. He coated his fingers, then ran the tip of one around the rim of Klaus’ hole, before gently pushing inside.

Klaus let out a deep sigh and rested his forehead against the arm he had propped against the tree.

Just as Klaus had taught him, Dave began moving his finger, methodically pressing and stretching. He pulled his finger out, stacked his index finger over his middle finger and then placed them at Klaus’ entrance, only the very tips inside.

“Squeeze, please,” he said, and Klaus sighed, but then clenched obediently around Dave’s fingertips.

“And relax,” Dave instructed after a moment. Klaus relaxed his muscles and Dave watched in admiration as both his fingers easily sank another inch inside Klaus’ body.

“I love watching you suck me inside like that,” Dave said in awe.

“Daaave,” Klaus whined, “come on.”

Dave eased his fingers the rest of the way inside and started scissoring them, gently stretching Klaus’ entrance further. Klaus let out a low moan.

“You don’t have to be so… thorough.” Klaus wheedled. “I have done this a few times before, you know. I’m good to go!”

“Or,” Dave said patiently, “we could just enjoy this bit before racing on to the next part.” He ran his other hand down the gentle curve of Klaus’ spine, ending by giving his left ass-cheek an affectionate squeeze.

“God, Klaus, I love your ass.” Dave brought his other hand around to Klaus’ front, took hold of his dick and gave it a couple of gentle tugs. “Among other things.”

Klaus moaned wantonly and spread his legs further.

Dave smiled and curled the fingers of his other hand and Klaus let out a desperate gasp.

“Please.” Klaus said shakily. “Please, Dave. I need you inside me. Now. Before they start to wonder where we are and come looking.” He swallowed thickly. “Please, Dave. I need this.”

His voice was as breathy and light as usual, but Dave could hear the undercurrent of real urgency. The genuine desperation that didn’t stem from raw sexual desire, but from the need to connect with someone. To really feel something. While they still had chance.

Dave leaned forwards and pressed a tender kiss to the exposed skin of Klaus’ shoulder, right at the juncture of his neck.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured soothingly in Klaus’ ear, “I’ve got you.”

Klaus gave an involuntary little shiver, but nodded slowly.

“I know you do,” Klaus whispered back.

Dave slowly eased his fingers out of Klaus’ body. He unbuckled his own pants and unceremoniously pulled out his achingly hard cock and quickly slicked it up.

Dave moved behind Klaus. He rand one hand down the curve of Klaus’ spine again, before taking firm hold of Klaus’ hip. Finally, holding the base of his cock with his other hand, he lined up and gently pushed inside Klaus’ body in one deliciously long, slow slide. Then, he stopped. His heartbeat was thudding in his ears and all his nerve endings were on fire. He’d never get used to that feeling. Never. Not if he did this every day for the rest of his life. Completely unparalleled bliss.

Klaus let out a long, low moan.

“Fuuuuucck, yeeeeesssss! Dave! Finally!”

Dave withdrew slowly and Klaus released a breath in a deep, satisfied exhale. Dave took hold of both Klaus’ hips and thrust in again firmly, snapping his hips as he bottomed out. Klaus gasped and his internal muscles contracted sharply around him as Dave’s cock hit that sweet spot deep inside. Dave grunted and gripped Klaus’ hips tighter.

Suddenly, all the frenetic energy from earlier came crashing back and Dave pulled out and thrust forwards again firmly, then started snapping his hips and driving into Klaus in a gloriously intense and deliciously punchy rhythm.

“Fucking finally,” Dave heard Klaus exhale between grunts of pleasure.

Below him, Dave could hear Klaus chanting his name between desperate little moans and uninhibited grunts. Dave felt a warm glow start deep in his chest, Klaus’ obvious pleasure urging him on.

Dave found his rhythm and soon lost himself to the indescribable feeling of fucking Klaus. The tight, wet slide… the sound of Klaus’ desperate panting moans and punched out grunts of pleasure… the obscene slap of skin on skin… the delicate, warm weight of Klaus’ hips under his palms… chasing his desire… succumbing to this primal need… the rough pleasure of engaging in something so base and animalistic… pure carnal instinct driving his hips forwards… sinking himself inside his partner… claiming and taking and pleasuring and pleasing and thrusting and thrusting and thrusting.

“Dave!” He heard Klaus cry urgently. He swallowed and tried again. “Fuck, Dave,” Klaus said more urgently, “I’m close.”

Without loosing his rhythm, Dave brought one hand around and started jerking Klaus’ cock in time with his own thrusts.

Klaus keened. The pitch of his voice changed. His moans became higher and he released little abortive wails on every thrust. He sounded breathless and desperate. His legs started trembling and distantly Dave was aware Klaus’ knuckles had gone white where he held onto the tree trunk for support.

Dave grunted and increased the pace of his hips, the muscles in his powerful legs tensing and straining.

“Dave!” Klaus sobbed and then, suddenly, Dave felt him tense and then the world held its breath for a second. And then Klaus released the breath he’d been holding in a long shaking exhale as his body began contracting rhythmically around Dave and his cock pulsed and twitched as he ejaculated thickly onto the jungle floor.

And then Dave’s entire word narrowed to the glorious pressure building between his legs and the roaring in his ears and the sound of Klaus’ moans and the feeling of Klaus cumming on his cock and, finally, Dave let go and fucked his release deep inside his partner in heady waves of crashing pleasure, grunting and moaning and sweating and cursing.

And then he was done. Dave felt all his muscles relax and he slumped forwards slightly over Klaus, trying to catch his breath. Klaus’ knees buckled. But, on instinct, Dave caught him and held him up firmly with one large, strong arm around his tiny waist. He planted the other against the tree trunk, anchoring them and keeping them both upright. Dave nuzzled into the soft, warm space behind Klaus’ ear, then peppered kisses down his neck and across his shoulder, licking a soothing stripe over the mark he’d sucked into Klaus’ neck earlier.

“Was that what you needed, baby?” Dave asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Klaus replied throatily. Still slumped bonelessly against the tree, barely holding himself upright save for Dave’s strong arm holding him firm. Klaus turned his head and blindly sought Dave’s lips.

Dave leaned forwards and kissed him. It was wonky and off-centre and wonderful.

Slowly, Dave pulled his softening cock out of Klaus’s body. Klaus sighed and his hole gave a delicate flutter. Dave watched a thick bead of cum ooze out and dribble thickly down the inside of Klaus’ thigh.

Dave dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and gently cleaned the sticky mess from Klaus’ skin. He ducked down and carefully helped Klaus pull up his pants and fasten them again, then, finally, tucked himself away, refastened his own pants and snapped his belt back into place.

Leaning back against the tree, Klaus watched him fondly through half-lidded bedroom eyes, absently trailing his fingers down his neck to press lightly against the spot of darker skin. The shadow of a lost kiss.

Inches apart, Dave looked at Klaus and the satisfied expression that softened his features and gave him a radiant glow of happiness. And, once again, Dave was overcome with a wave of pure affection. He reached out and tenderly cupped Klaus’ cheek in one large, soft palm, his thumb gently rubbing the delicate skin at the corner of Klaus’ eye. Klaus blinked slowly and looked back at Dave, the expression in his eyes unmistakable.

“One day,” Dave said simply, “I’d like us to do that in a proper bed.”

“We will,” Klaus said quietly.

Dave gazed deep into Klaus eyes and was filled with the almost overwhelming urge to pour all of himself inside this man – not just his sticky, orgasmic release, but his whole heart as well.

“I want to lay you down and kiss every inch of you” Dave said reverently. “I want us to take our time. We could take all night if we wanted. And then, I want to hold you afterwards, until you fall asleep in my arms. I want to wake up the next morning to your hair in my face and your ridiculously cold feet pressed against my legs. I want all your sleepy grumbling and your morning-breath kisses. And then I want to make love to you again, in a pool of early morning light, while you’re all groggy and warm and loose-limbed and peaceful.”

“I want that too,” Klaus said, looking wistfully back into Dave’s kind, sincere eyes. “Well, we are due R&R in a few weeks…” he trailed off suggestively, his eyes scanning Dave’s face and the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“The thing is,” Dave said quietly, “I don’t just want it here and now. Not just a Vietnam fling. I want it every day. Every. Single. Day. For the rest of my life.” He paused, took a deep breath and added, “I want you forever, Klaus.”

Klaus swallowed hard and took a deep shuddering breath. “Me too,” he said hoarsely. He pulled Dave’s face towards him and pressed their foreheads together and held him there, just breathing the same air. “We’ll make it work,” Klaus murmured into the space between them. “Somehow, Dave, we’ll make it work. That’s a promise.”

“Don’t,” Dave replied sadly. “You can’t promise that.”

“I just did,” Klaus said stubbornly. “And you better believe I’m not going to let the universe make a liar out of me about this. God might have written me off, but nobody should ever underestimate my selfish streak.”

Dave huffed a laugh and held him tighter. They stood quietly, just relishing the moment of peace and closeness.

“We should get back.” Dave said finally.

“Yeah, we should.” Klaus grudgingly agreed.

But neither of them made any attempt to move.

They just held on to each other and shut the world out and pretended prejudices didn’t exist and that the war was happening somewhere else to some other people.

Instead, they ran gentle hands over warm flesh and slowly kissed in a dappled green, enchanted bubble of hope and love and jungle dreams.

[bennettandyank]

Glitter Girls Keltie review!

This is my first time doing a review for this blog. I tried to cover everything. Sadly I do not have other 14 inch dolls (like Wellie Wishers) to compare her to, but from what I have seen they can swap clothes perfectly.

Keltie, as I mentioned above, is a 14 inch Glitter Girls doll. She has dark skin, dark brown wavy hair, and brown eyes. She retails for $21.99 from the Glitter Girls store, but is currently out of stock. I bought mine from Mercari for $16 plus $11 shipping. She was new in the box, but I did not take pictures of it.

Keltie comes wearing an outfit consisting of a pink t-shirt, blue ombré skirt, leggings, Mary Jane shoes, and a white bow. True to the name Glitter Girls, every single piece of the outfit has glitter.

The shirt features what I believe is an exclamation point. It has a geometric design inside. The sleeves are sewn so that they look cuffed, which I think is a nice detail. The triangles in the middle of the shirt are in gold glitter, however I did not notice this glitter shedding. The material is rather thin, but she’s a $20 doll. I’ll manage. I give it an A. It’s cute and simple, and has decent mix and match potential.

The skirt is a blue ombré skirt. She wears it quite high on her waist, and it stops above the knee. It has a glitter trim. I didn’t notice this glitter shedding either while I handled her. A+ This is my favorite part of her meet outfit. The quality is good for the price and I think it’s very pretty, and again has good potential to mix and match.

She wears white leggings with a geometric triangle print in blue, pink, and gold glitter. Due to the way these are sewn, most of the pink triangles can’t be seen on her legs, which is a shame. The glitter on these did shed a bit when I removed them. I give them a B- for shedding and not being able to see the pink triangles.

Her shoes are white Mary Janes that are absolutely covered in glitter. I liked these in the stock photo because white Mary Janes can go with so many different outfits. However, these shed pretty bad.

I also absolutely cannot get one of the shoes to buckle properly. The other one closes fine but this shoe will not. You can see here that the shoe has shed glitter onto her skin. Shoes get a C+ because they shed and don’t close, but are saved by still being good for mix and matching for photos.

I forgot to take a close-up of her bow. It’s white glitter and is on an alligator clip. It doesn’t shed. A

Keltie’s brown eyes are pretty and detailed. They do not open and close. She has eyelashes, and you can probably tell that the one on the right here was glued on a little wonky.

The wonkiness is even more evident in bright lighting. I may use tweezers and try to pull them off and glue them on straighter.

Keltie’s face paint is bright, but natural. Her eyebrows are long and thin. They remind me of Josefina’s eyebrows.

Her ears are about as detailed as an average AG doll in my opinion. I think her side profile is quite cute.

Her hair is a little wild when taken out of its ponytail. She doesn’t have a part in her hair, so I think having her hair up, or at least half up, might be the best move. However, it is incredibly soft, and surprisingly thick.

Her waves are not very neat. I kind of want to put curlers in her hair and see how it turns out.

Her hair is rooted and her scalp is painted black, but with white lines that can be seen wherever you try to part her hair.

I have hit the 10 image limit so stay tuned for part 2!

[kashuan]

All right, there are quite a few things that come to mind with a question as broad as this, so here’s my best attempt to sum up what character design means to me in like 5 minutes :,D. I’m going to start with a few very quick sketches that talk about more my general approach to drawing, but I’m going to build up to how it all connects with character.

Step 1) Find reference! Whenever you can, use reference, it will always make your character’s posing look 100 times more genuine than anything you can pull from your brain, and that’s nothing to feel bad about. It’s not cheating because we’re not stopping at Step 2 either, which is where the misnomer comes in that you’re just ‘copying’ (protip: even step 2 isn’t a straight Copy; as long as you’re not tracing, you’re not copying, and even tracing has its uses for personal studies). I could do a whole answer of it’s own about picking your reference, but I’ll keep it short by saying: not every reference will fit every character. Keep in mind your character’s attitude when choosing your ref. Some poses are so generic they’re one size fits all, but even this very simple pose has unique character to it. The way the legs are posed, to me, gives it a young and girlish feeling, and depending how you played with the expression, you could even make it come off shy. An overbearingly confident character, while also taking an arms crossed pose, will likely position their legs differently, assuming a stance that takes up more space, etc.

Step 2) Draw pretty much exactly what you see first, but keep it simple. Think of the body like individual shapes; anatomy is not the focus right now, and you’ll actually hinder yourself if you hone in on that first. What you want to do at this stage is capture what the pose is generally doing; character isn’t involved yet Step 3) Now, working off 2′s framework, start considering body type. If you skip the previous step, you might have a hard time capturing the gesture correctly, since it’s a lot for your brain to juggle at once. When I sketched these two different body types, I built it straight off the first drawing, erasing lines as needed.

So the first image includes some extremely basic body type variations, this one pushes that idea further. 1 is the basic frame from the last image, while 2 is about playing with proportions. There are a lot of ways you can play with proportions, and as I’ll come to sound like a broken record about: make those decisions thoughtfully. For example, when I made this version shorter than the reference base, I had to consider exactly where I wanted her to lose that height. Here, I made her shorter waisted, took a little length from the legs, and gave her a squatter neck as well. You can do one of these or all of them. Just keep in mind those are all individual options. Letting your train of thought stop at ‘this character is short/tall so I’m just going to generally shrink/stretch their body’ means you’ll run out of variety pretty fast, and sometimes the overall proportions can end up looking wonky (though there’s always exceptions to the rule, remember that the individual body parts should remain correctly scaled in relation to each other). Image 3 is another approach to proportional manipulation, except rather than focusing on height, it focuses on fat distribution and to a lesser extent bone structure. Again, there’s so many individual places you can focus on here, make sure to mix them up. Arm size, shoulder broadness, chest and hip size, leg thickness and musculature, foot and hand size and so forth.   Image 4 is a further exaggeration of image 3 and the lines have started to get a little more stylized. While image 3 is still reasonably realistic, 4 is just starting to cross into cartoon territory. Advantage of 4 is that when you are able to push the proportions further due to the leniency of style, you can sell a clearer idea and a clearer character. Downside is, well, it looks more cartoonish now, and depending on the needs of your image that might not be what you want ie: it can look like a mistake rather than a purposeful choice if everyone else around the character is drawn more realistically.

Also… I see variations on this general advice quite a lot for women, but don’t forget about doing the same for men. It’s great to see how eager a lot of artists are to experiment with the female form that is simply absent in a lot of mainstream media, but I find that men really tend to fall by the wayside here even though they often get equally shallow treatment in the mainstream. There’s usually like 2-3 ‘go-to’ body types for men and that’s it. Men’s bodies can have the exact same amount of variety as a woman’s, including the individual ways the fat can be distributed on it, and the assorted ways their proportions can be played with. Whenever I find an artist that does this it’s like striking gold to me tbh. 

So there’s some very rough hows. But, perhaps even more importantly than any of that, is WHY you make these choices. This is going to get a little stream of consciousness, but with a question this broad, I tried to hit on as many general points I could think of in regard to my own process.

-When I start to design a character, I really need to have an understanding of them first. This includes things like backstory, personality, habits, so and so forth… Yes, all of this stuff shows up in their design, even if it’s just a drawing of them standing straight up. This isn’t just like ‘this character got this scar at age 7 so I need to know where it goes′, I mean in depth info about them. I touched on this a little bit earlier, bringing up the different ways a character would assume the same general pose, but let me expand on that. -What do I mean by personality? So there’s the most obvious answer, which is that a bubbly character will assume bubbly poses, a sullen character will slouch more, etc… But let’s take it further than that. This is a concept I’ve touched on in past tutorials, but here’s a quick recap. A character’s personality involves their opinions, for one; how do you make that show up in their design? Well, one of the most obvious questions I always ask myself is: what is their opinion on their own appearance (the thing we are drawing)/how do they want to be perceived by others? Consider a strong character. I see a lot of artists who take this thought as far as: okay, this character is strong, so I’m gonna throw a 6 pack on him, maybe a nice pair of guns, and call it a day. Which leads to like, nice art, but also...kind of bland? I think that’s because this is a rather half-baked approach. How can we take it further? Ask yourself more specific questions. Is your strong character concerned with being perceived as an ‘ideal’ sort of fit by others (the type you give that showy 6 pack to) or does that not matter to them? (more likely to look ‘chubby’ if not outright fat, though probably is just as if not more capable of actually doing some real heavy lifting than saran wrapped abs man). If they’re some kind of mystical being that can look like whatever they want (ie: the anime waif that can also lift 1000 lbs-trope), you should still take into account their personal perspective on appearance. Don’t just stop at ‘this guy/girl is strong so they’ll look super shredded’ or ‘they’re magic so I’ll do whatever’. Doing this, you’ve instantly lost a chance to inform the audience more about the individual there beyond ‘they’re strong’ -Break it down further with their habits. What is their daily life like? If they’re running ten miles every day they should probably have some strong looking legs. If their job involves a lot of lifting, maybe focus on the upper body more and leave the legs less defined. Do they eat a lot? Or drink? The way the fat distributes in both these cases will be noticeably different (and this isn’t even taking into account points like an endomorph vs an ectomorphs body, which I always suggest reading up on). I’d definitely recommend drawing as many different body types as you can just as studies, in order to add these variations to your mental library. I’m sure every artist has seen this popular athlete line up by now, but really study images like this. Don’t just mindlessly copy what you see when you create your own characters though; think about why those athletes have the bodies they have, what they specifically did to get them like that, and how that can apply to your character’s own life. -One thing that has always bothered me is how often artists are afraid to use the head (not the features; I’ll get to that in a second) as an extension of the body when it comes to imbuing it with variety and character. While it is absolutely possible to have a thin face and a fat body (as is any combo), it’s another missed opportunity not to experiment with chubby cheeks, a soft jawline, etc. It’s a cliche to mention him at this point as an inspiration, but one of my very favorite things about Mucha’s art was how he was able to make fuller faces look so beautiful despite being a rather nontraditional approach (so many art books try to tell you this is a big NO). example, example. These faces actually look like real individuals to me than a drawing that focuses too hard on being generically aesthetically pleasing. -So, facial features. A face with less traditional features isn’t just going to be more memorable than Stock Beautiful Face #73, but it’s basically a more zoomed in version of informing the audience about the character in the same way the body does. -Know tropes, play with tropes, do not rely on tropes. Sunken bone structure, long features-guy will always pretty much read like a villain (or at least someone off-putting), but find somewhere to make the formula your own. Give him thicker eyebrows or big ears. Give the girl with the standard doll-face a nose that sticks out a little more prominently or a crooked smile. -Speaking of are so many different ways to draw a smile, do not underestimate the mileage you can get out of this one feature alone. Artists tend to have a favorite way to draw smiles, in my experience, but remember your character. Would they have a big toothy grin, a handsome ‘cool’ looking smile, a small shy lopsided one, ones that touch the eyes, ones that don’t… This is probably a repetitive point by now but just do whatever you can not to draw the exact same feature on two different characters, and make sure to think through your reasoning for every choice you make. To me, it’s always immediately evident if an artist really knows their character or if they’re just trying to make something aesthetically pleasing. The former is always more attention grabbing in my opinion. -One of my favorite things to consider when designing a character who’s part of a family: genetics and how you can play with them to inform the audience more about the character’s story. Does this character take after their mother or father? How? Why? Why why, you might ask? This isn’t a photo of a real person, this is an illustration that you should be making deliberate choices about every step along the way. It’s one thing to draw a character that looks like their parent simply because logic dictates they should, another to make meaningful decisions as to where and why they do. Some examples: He has his father’s eyes because they carry the same intensity and other characters are a little put off by him because it (conversely, maybe he’s such a gentle character that this detail stands out twice as strongly). He has the same hair as his father, but he styles it differently to avoid the association. She has her mother’s nose which everyone compliments her on so shes happy to be seen in profile. She has her father’s broad shoulders and she’s a little self conscious about it so she tends to wear baggier clothing. Etc etc! In all these cases, you can communicate these details through even a simple drawing of the character standing alone, and should try to as often as you can. -In the end, the only way you’re going to know how to draw all these different details, whether they be different body types or different facial features, is by studying real people. Draw as many different kinds as you can, add them to your mental library. Your reference will never give you everything you need to work it, and I’m not sure if that’s maybe what this question as getting at-- if I have a reference folder of go-to ‘types’ or something. I don’t. I have a folder of poses labeled with characters I think they’d fit, and that’s about it. If you’re just imitating what you see in a photo, you’ll always be drawing That Person, not Your Character. So you are going to have to pull some of it out of your brain. Note, however, the important difference between just ‘making it up’ and recalling information you’ve studied in the past. That said, while on this last topic of expanding your mental library, that includes not just doing studies, but also learning and observing the ways other accomplished artists work. Here are some of my book recommendations when it comes to those which have most helped me in regard to this particular subject. This includes books that specifically tell you how to vary your body types, but also ones that just have a lot of examples of different kinds: Morpho: Anatomy for Artists Morpho: Fat and Skin Folds Famous Artists School Course in Illustration and Design (If anyone is interested in this one and has trouble finding a non $500 copy, hit me up and I’ll help you out) Spirit of the Pose Anatomy Lessons from the Great Masters Drawing People: How to Portray the Clothed Figure Figures from Life (my favorite currently; not the most varied array of figures but he goes in depth on how to successfully grow an academic study of a model into an illustration influenced by your own ideas and personal style) If you found this answer helpful, although it isn’t specifically about character design, I go a little more in depth about some of the topics I briefly covered here (such as choosing the right reference, good vs bad reference in general, honing in on shapes, pushing the pose, etc) in this short book of mine :>

[pollylynn]

Billet Doux, Chapter 2—A Season Two Caskett WIP

Title: Billet Doux, Chapter 2 WC: 1100

A/N: An insert for Sucker Punch (2 x 13) 

She camps out in the laundry room’s lone chair while her clothes churn back and forth in the washer. She has smuggled her still-damp jeans and blouse down a basket full of non–blood soaked clothes and forced herself to throw the whole lot in together. It’s sensible. It would not be sensible to afford them—the two offending items—their own damned machine.It would give them more power than they already have, and it turns out they have a lot of power. So she is sensible and a good citizen of her apartment building to boot. She shoves the entire load into the one washer sufficient to her sensible needs and camps out like she’s guilty of something. 

She is guilty of something, of course. She ended a man’s life. The fact comes to her that way for the first time as she rocks without rhythm from the chair’s three level legs on to the single wonky one. It comes to her that way as she studies the blur of suds and dark fabric tossed on stormy seas behind the machines’s glass front. 

She has regrets. That is astonishingly gross understatement for the complex and potent mix of emotions roiling just beneath the surface, but that’s the part she’s ready to acknowledge right now. She regrets with a pain that is sharp, deep, and constant that she ended Dick Coonan’s life before she could learn anything more about who ordered her mother’s murder. 

She remembers with a burning mix of fury, shame, and embarrassment the first slash of that regret. She remembers the thick, sickening pump of Coonan’s blood beneath her hands and shock of her own scalding tears. But here, with the unsteady tick of a metal chair leg against cracked tile—with the regular shug, shug, shug, of the washer—she regrets taking a man’s life.

That part is belated, and she feels a new kind of shame. She feels a deep uncertainty about herself a cop—as a human—that it’s taken her a day to come around to that. It’s too heavy for the laundry room. It’s too much, and she feels the press of a decade of loss inside her own chest. 

Her phone dings just then. 

She almost jumps out of her skin. The wonky chair nearly goes over entirely backwards and she has a deeply unpleasant flash of memory featuring Sarah Manning and tragic, accidental head wounds in the laundry room. She rights herself at the last second, and the moment is . . . weirdly cathartic. That hot-skin prickle of fear all over her body pops some kind of release valve, and if she’s not actually smiling when she digs the phone out—if her heart is still thumping without rhythm in her chest—she is something closer to centered. 

Full day? Alphabetizing your Russian literature? 

It makes her laugh. The asinine specificity of it—the fact that it’s a dig and a compliment at the same time—makes her laugh loud enough that the sound bounces around the room. 

It’s 9:30 am. Dewey decimal-ed all that after my 10K, before breakfast. 

The washer whirrs to a drum-shaking stop. She pockets the phone and makes herself ignore the second, damned near immediate ding as she separates out what can go In the dryer and what she’’ll take upstairs to toss over the rickety drying rack she needs to replace. She holds up the jeans and tries to decide if the dark color on the damp thighs is imaginary or not. She bundles them into the basket with half a dozen other things and shoves the rest into the dryer. 

She lines up her quarters and gives the silver tongue of the coin slot a shove to set things tumbling. She eyes the damp clothes in the basket, then the wonky chair. It should be no contest. Her tailbone is already griping about the forty-five minutes she’s spent with little but cracked vinyl between her and the plywood seat. 

She launches herself back into it anyway, though. She slips the phone from her pocket and tips herself over on to the wonky leg. She tips herself as far back on two legs as she dares and peeks down at his reply. 

Library talk? Why, Detective, I don’t think I’ve ever sexted before noon . . . 

She blushes. It’s a stupid comment—dorky in the extreme—but it makes her blush and press the phone face down against her thigh for long enough that he must think he’s crossed a line. The phone dings again, and when she flips it screen up, he’s backing off at speed. 

Anyway. Won’t bother you. 

There’s a pause not quite long enough for her to kick herself for locking up for no good reason, other than the fact that she’s not sure whether she’s imaging the dark discoloration on the thighs of her damp jeans. The phone dings again. 

Glad you’re keeping busy. 

Laundry, her thumbs tap out, and there’s a spiritual exclamation point. There’s a plaintive cry and a follow-up. Staring into the tumble-dry void. 

It’s a bit much. It’s more than a bit much, but she doesn’t want him to go. She wants company. She wants his company, but the phone stays silent until she’s on the verge of propping the basket on her hip and heading upstairs. There’s a ding just as the wonky short leg thunks against the cracked tile. 

What’s your tumble-dry mantra? 

Her eyes dart to the machine’s glass front. She hears the metal-on-metal report of zippers and buttons. She thinks of the washer’s shug, shug, shug. She shakes her head, laughing again, because it is meditative, camping out here. It might also be messed up hyper-vigilance about a set of clothes no one in the world would recognize as recently blood soaked, but it’s meditative and not entirely at odds with the reason she said yes to the Captain’s offer of a few days to herself. She closes her eyes and lets sounds of the tumbling drum fill her mind.

She opens them again and grins hard as she taps out her reply: Brassiere. 

She lets it land. She bites her lip and makes herself wait for a long count of five before she follows it up with Yours? complete with the most innocent question mark  in the history of question marks.

It’s more than a long count of five before he replies. It’s more than a long count of five fives before the screen flares. 

Same. How weird is that? A/N: See? Another short chapter where nothing much happens. Brain Poneh gonna Brain Poneh. 

[honestlyfrance]

Summaries :) I’ve always had trouble deciding how to summarise my story but make it very intresting so people want to carry on and read it

hi, anon! Thanks for the ask 💕 having trouble with summaries is a common thing I have too

summaries

Fun fact, you can write summaries however you like to! My summaries were wonky at first because being on AO3 was alien to me at that moment since I was so new to the platform, which was why I write summaries in two ways. Firstly, you need to know two things:

a) Don't spoil in the summary. One thing that peeves me (and maybe others) off is that the major turning point in a story is said, which sucks because then I know how it's going to end. Your summary, the back of the book kind, should have: characters and their role, setting, and major conflict/goal. You can set the major conflict in a question or any way you like, as long as you don't spoil any other small detail or plot twist.

Here's an example of mine to give you an idea:

The twenty-year long partnership between Agent Sam Wilson and Agent James Barnes comes to an end when a promising lead on their cold case, the Missing Carol Danvers, arises, but on their way to Louisiana, obstacles are stacked, secrets are spilled, and tension is thick in the air. Now they must ask a question to themselves: Will I stay, or will I leave this place?

Full name, time setting, place, their roles in the story, and their goal. That's what English class teaches you, and it definitely doesn't mean you should go all out. If you read your summary as a reader and it reels you in, it should work flawlessly for others too.

b) Now you get the usual AO3 kind, or the "excerpt + or + sentence summary." or "excerpt" kind. A cool trick to pull this off, if your opening line is good enough to reel in readers (which it should) you can use that alone! Another thing is if you're going to use this kind of summary, is that you shouldn't use anything that spoils the entirety of the work. To get this output, you can use a dialogue piece that gets you excited and all hyped up, because if it works for you, it will definitely work for others.

Example for you:

"I love art," Sam had signed in ASL, his hands moving enthusiastically as Bucky held onto every word, and it's a tragedy really, when the brown in Sam's eyes had a glint of yellow in them when the sunset settled in them beautifully. "I'm a tour guide actually. Studied it all my life."

Bucky had nodded, his grin almost contagious as he watched the light from the plane window outline Sam's features as if a mosaic. "Do you make art yourself?" He spoke carefully, and his ASL was wonky at best, but Sam appreciated every move of his fingers and lips.

Sam smiled, mouthing, "I wish."

OR

Sam Wilson is in love with art and a sergeant named Bucky Barnes.

It probably won't reel you in the work, but it definitely reveals a lot of things without having too many details stacked upon another.

Overall tip: If your work has a discernible goal and stakes, then use the first tip up there. If it's just your cute lil drabble or one-shot with no discernable goal, you can use the excerpt kind.

I hope this helps you out 💖

-

ask for writing advice?

[oggyfromthebog]

HOLD! WHO GOES THERE? WHY, IS THAT [OGGY BOGWNWAYNE] THE

 [CRIMINAL SCUM] OF [FAHALUNE]? THEY DO LOOK [RAGGED] FOR A [MAN] OF [648] YEARS. DON’T THEY CALL [HIM] THE [JAUNTY AND  WELL-CONNECTED SCREW UP]? I’VE HEARD THEY’RE ALSO [BOORISH AND THICK-HEADED] THOUGH. DON’T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT BUT THEY DO LOOK AN AWFUL LOT LIKE [JOE GILGUN].

Additional Info

Criminal Ties: While not a criminal mastermind Oggy has connections. Is your character involved in smuggling, laundering, selling drugs, unfortunately for your character Oggy is your regular plug. Or your one option to turn to in anycase. He’s also available for thievery, intimidations, inflicting wanton violence, and general mischief.

Best friends, just about, maybe: Oggy just adores your character, looks up to them or is incredibly attracted to them and as such tries very hard to impress them and convince them how similar you both are. He may not have success with that and ends up more as a toady then a ride or die best friend.

Every Cousin’s got a cousin: Oggy is mostly elf, a little human on his mother’s side, and somehow tangentially related to the great house of Fahalune, and a few of its crime families though most would rather ignore this distant cousin he could pop up and remind your character that blood is thicker than water and couldn’t your character set him up with a new job, some cash or a place to stay. Yeah you’re related, he swears, probably.

Drinking/Fighting Buddy: Oggy has a tendency to over indulge, it gets him in trouble sometimes it gets other people in trouble. Your character could be involved. 

We all owe somebody: Oggy also indulges in the vice of gambling, he always manages to have money but rarely keeps it. Your character may be looking to collect a debt, or if he was lucky once he’d be looking to collect from your character.

Optional Info

He has multiple scars and multiple tattoos. Most notable are the scars on his face bisecting his right eyebrow, one clipping his nostril, and one trailing from the corner of his mouth to his chin that sometimes makes him dribble when he drinks.

He has a right eye he describes as ‘wonky’ from getting it cut then healed wrong. The magic “didn’t take right” and like a bad knee that swells and hurts when the weather is bad his eye gets cloudy when it’s bad out.

While technically part of a lesser house he’s never been noble in anysenes. Growing up with organized crime rampant in his port city he took more to the streets. His lesser house never had much in the way of reputation and funds anyway, connections were nice but he still had to fend for himself.

He’s got animal-bonding to some extent, and before teachers gave up on him they thought he could have been a dragon-rider, or at least a gryphon-rider. After problems attending regularly and fighting during magic classes--plus subsequent injuries--that avenue is closed to him.

After failing at dragon riding he’s wondering if someone could teach him how to channel animal-bonding into berserking magic.

Physical Description

HEIGHT: 6’4”

HAIR COLOR: Messy Brown

EYE COLOR: Golden Hazel, Except when the right is Milky White

GENDER: Male

BUILD: Wiry and Tall

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES?: Pointed Elf Ears notched in places, Multiple tattoos, Multiple scars. One notable scar bisecting his eyebrow and running partly down his face.

ANY HEALTH RELATED ISSUES?: Partial blindness in his one eye. 

Personality

Oggy doesn't have a steady job, he picks up the odd one when he can. People who want things done know how to contact him. He's survived this long making a less than legal living, and intends to do so for as long as he is able.

Oggy’s look is distinct, with a notched pointed ear, multiple scars and tattoos, and an eye that works only half the time so much so that Oggy leans into his intimidating features. In his typical line of business it is more lucrative to be scary than goofy as he’d otherwise look.

Oggy is not big on ideals or responsibilities. He’s not a cruel person by any means but he does look out for himself and his own comfort above all else. Not mean, just self centered and lacking a strong moral code.

Oggy is an animal appreciator but also a pragmatist when it comes to meals. 

History

Oggy was born a moderately privileged elf who squandered away opportunities to succeed on the straight and narrow path. Not much happened in his early life that he would consider important. He struggled with motivation for schooling, found an easier path with friends of the family in the organized crime side of the port city he grew up in. Failed out, grew up, disappointed his parents, but still swings by for family dinners and to cause problems on purpose. 

There was always a question in his youth if his biological father was the father he knew since birth, the one his mother married. Neither Bogwnwayne parent seemed to care about monogamy, neither was very good about family conversations, but his mom was the more open one by far. Because of this he’s wary of certain philandering council members, and how related he really is to a portion of the Vae population.

Being gifted in the animal-bonding magic and a city boy in his bones, the majority of the animals he’s been exposed to appart from the meal have been rats. Predominantly rats, but also street dogs, and street cats. May have affected his outlook a bit. 

[emsartwork]

I hope its not too much of an ask, but what would be like a "typical traditional dress" of each of the winx home planets? Like, I know modern and interplanetar fashion is mostly worn, but what about like a dress that just screams *insert planet*?

omg yes!!! ive been wanting to talk about this for a while lol thank you for indulging me

all of the girls are drawn as the princesses of their respective planets(even the ones who aren’t princesses), excluding tecna who is drawn as the queen of zenith because the royalty there is based on intelligence and not bloodline.(and also because tecna will def become queen lbr)

lynphea has very temperate climates, not too cold but not too hot. the land is primarily covered in forests and prairie, with a moderate level of variation in hill and valley heights. the costline is ragged with many inlets and port cities, as well as many many sources of fresh water inland. Lynphean clothing is primarily made with natural fibers and dyed with various plant and animal substances. though many dyes of lynphea could produce VERY vibrant colors, they prefer to leave their cloth in more subdued colors. 

lynphean traditional dress consists of a light colored stand up collar shirt with lighter cuffs, dark loose pants gathered at the ankle, and simple flat bottom shoes(or none at all), and is all gender neutral. in warm weather they wear cotton or linen as a short sleeve shirt, with loose and breathable silk pants, with flats usually made of bees-waxed fabric(to water proof) with a leather sole. in cooler weather they wear a long sleeve silk shirt over a woolen undershirt, with wool pants and leather boots. Lynphean royal dress(floras outfit here is based off of krystal’s dress at the sovereign’s council) consists of a loose shirt/dress over pants with metal accents, and a sleeveless floor length coat featuring a high detailed collar. The lynphean circlets are two parts, one on the head and one around the shoulders, both are tied in the back with cords and are made of a uniquely flexible metal called lynphenite. The heir’s circlet’s have an orange stones and the sovereign’s have blue.

lynphea is the only one that i didn’t base off of another culture, which might be why its a little more plain lol

Melody has a varied climate, leaning a little more towards cold than warm, but some areas can approach tropical. The topography is full of mountains and valleys, and people live where they can. the coast has many many small islands scattered around it before stretching out into open sea. fresh water is available primarily in the form of rivers. Melodian clothing is primary made of silk and hemp equivalents that leave the cloth in strong colors from the beginning. They can produce very strong dyes, but a sign of wealth is having clothing in pure white which is very hard to achieve with traditional methods.

Melodian traditional clothing consists of a wrapped tunic/robe with a belt, over tight or wide legged pants, and slippers. Its mostly gender neutral, thought men tend not to wear as wide belts/sashes.  In warm weather they wear a short robe over fitted capris and slippers, they tend to wear brighter/warmer colors in the summer and spring. In colder weather they wear a long robe, usually layered over another robe or wide pants(not pictured), with an unfastened coat of thick woven fibers. Melodian royal dress (i VERY VERY loosely based what musa is wearing off of Galatea’s outfit at the sovereign’s council) consists of many many layers of snow white cloth trimmed in gold, its really hard to do anything in traditional royal dress so its only really worn for ceremonies and hyper formal events.

I based Melodian clothing off of chinese and japanese clothing.

Solaria has a warm to VERY WARM climate.  The land is very largely covered in desert, the only spots of life are surrounding a river or oasis. the coast is full of river deltas and is the where the most cities are located. Solaria has a near constant rain storm at the northern pole due to their wonky rotation. It is the source of most of their rivers, and living in that area is considered impossible. their clothing is primarily made of linen and is incredibly light. They have mostly blue or orange/red dyes.

Solaria traditional dress consists of a light linen dress fastened at the chest or shoulders, a belt of leather or metal, and leather strap sandals. It is all gender neutral. In warm weather, solarians wear short tunics draped from the shoulder. In the odd cool weather, they wear a long, short sleeved dress, with a draped vest. leather is more common than metal in cold weather. Solarian royal dress(stella’s dress here is based off her episode 1 dress before she and blood get to alfea) consists of a long long dress or short tunic, with a long, colored sash/wrap over it. metal accessories at the waist and collar are common. the crown  of the solarian heir has no jewels, but the sun and moon crowns feature white/blue and yellow/orange gems.

I based the solarian clothing off of ancient greek, roman, and egyptian clothing

Andros is MOSTLY ocean, and has a climate similar to earth’s, warm in the middle cold at the poles. Islands are spread all over the planet but most of the population lives on the largest cluster and have a lot of bridges and ferries through them. Their clothing is made of linen and silk, as well as a planet specific fabric called tidal-web which is mostly water resistant. a lot of it is actually knitted instead of woven leaving no seems. They have MANY dyes and prefer bright colors.

Androsian traditional clothing is a bright thigh or knee length shirt, is belted at the waist, over darker pants gathered into a cuff below the knee, with leather, strapy sandals or boots; there is gold embroidery everywhere. Gender neutral. In warm weather the shirts are sleeveless and the pants shorter, both are made of linen or tidal-web. in colder weather they wear a short sleeve tunic over a cuffed long sleeve. the pants are thicker and have more fabric but are still gathered into a cuff. the leather androsians use is generally seal leather, and is used for shoes and belts, and sometimes coats. Androsian royalty wear a longer tunic over silk pants. The tunic is usually more complex with more embroidery or a different cut to the sleeves. The heir and the king/queen related to the ocean also wear a draped, pinned, floor length vest. 

I based these outfits off of other androsians I’ve drawn, but I think i based the original version of Aisha’s parents off of Afghan clothing.

Zenith has a very cold climate, most of the planet is tundra or glacier. where there is land, they have some impressive mountain ranges and a lot of the zenithian cities are actually inside the mountains in cave systems. the coastline suffers frequent cold storms in the winter and much of the population there are summer only. Zenithian clothing is made of cotton, wool, fur, and leather. They use knit as often, if not more, than woven material. They have very few plant based dyes, and are limited to purple and green. 

Zenithian traditional clothing consists of a front fastened, collared, shirt, a fur lined coat, and wool trousers with leather boots. they’re pretty gender neutral, women will sometimes wear a skirt instead of pants, but this isn’t preferred as its leaves legs cold. In warm weather they wear a light coat over a cotton long sleeve, the pants are a loose wool, and the boots are water proofed leather.They usually wear darker colors in the summer. In cold weather they wear fur hats, wool scarves, knitted undershirts, sweaters, a fur lined wool/leather coat, wool thermals, leather/wool pants, and waterproofed leather boots with metal grits on the bottom to grip ice. Zenithian royalty is determined by intelligence, so even if your dad is the king of zenith you might not be the prince/princess. The King/Queen formal wear consists of the Spark of Zenith head-dress(the crown basically), a collared shirt, with metalic fibers woven in, a fur lined, metal accented coat, a metal collar/chest plate, pants, and leather/metal boots.

I based the zenithian clothing on russian and mongolian traditional clothing.  

Domino has a unique climate as its totally dependent on the topography. The planet is covered in high, high mountains, and most peaks are uninhabitable. The people of domino live in the more temperate valleys between the mountain ranges. The coast line is a lot of sheer cliffs, but where some valleys meet the ocean there are thriving port cities. Their clothing is made of cotton, linen, leather, and wool, as well as a planet specific clothing called dragon’s-breath, which is light while still being very warm. They have access to a few dyes, and mostly stick to light/bright colors, or leave cloth undyed.

Dominian traditional dress for women consists of a shirt and skirt, made of either linen, cotton, or dragon’s-breath, with a leather corset and shoes. The men would simple substitute pants and a vest. In warm weather, they wear the most basic set of shirt and skirt, with a leather under/over bust leather corset, and water proof leather shoes. the sleeves are often rolled up and the skirts are occasionally hiked up to the knee depending on the heat. IN cooler weather the shirt and skirt are made of dragons-breath, providing warmth with out heaviness. the shirt is ruched and fastened up all the way. an over skirt is also added consisting of moisture wicking wool and a contrasting trim. the corset is leather and lined with cotton. Dominian royalty (bloom’s dress is completely made up here) have a shirt with invisible fasteners, and a long skirt. The over skirt is replaced by a draped floor length vest under the embroidered leather corset. The sleeves are full and gathered along the upper arm with a ribbon that matches the cuff holding the sleeve to the wrist. Dominian royalty hand make their crowns so each one is different.

I based Dominian fashion on medieval europe, specifically scotland/ireland, with a few chinese aspects thrown in(because the great dragon looks more like an eastern dragon despite being associated with fire???) 

lmao this was probably more than you wanted but i love worldbuilding so much sry

[alexialockhartx]

🖍️☕🙃📚🐻🎁🌈🎼🙌📐🦋🌊🙊 because I'm evil 😈

KYRIL (ಠ⌣ಠ)

u clown these are like half of the questions, but i did it anyways, tysm (´; ω ;｀) 💖

✦ ✦ ✦

🖍️ When did you start drawing? Do you remember?

ever since i was a toddler! i remember my neighbor coming over and she was really good at drawing so i tried to copy them. mine were just stick drawings with triangles for bodies and bananas for hair (guys had that "super saiyan" look) then i colored them using highlighters 😂

☕ Do you do warmup sketches before drawing? (Bonus: do you have any to share?)

yups! especially for characters that i haven't drawn before. dunno if this counts but here are some of the sketches i did until i got the 'finalized' version of alexia's dad, damien ( ･ ิ ω ･ิ )

🙃 Which is easier: faces facing left, right, or front view?

definitely facing left! most of my doodles have them facing that way, and right faces is a little wonky but i'm getting better at front views

🎁 Do you prefer drawing fandom stuff or your own characters?

i normally gravitate towards fandom stuff... with my own characters 😂

📚 How many layers do you typically use?

it really depends on what i'm drawing but it usually goes from 30-100

🐻 Your go-to things to draw when you need comfort?

mostly faces and silly little doodles of my characters ( ^∇^)ﾉ

🌈 Do you use more warm or cold colors?

in the middle (?) lol sometimes i add a subtle warm gradient overlay to them

🎼 Your favorite music to draw to right now?

right now i usually play alot of medleys, opm, p!atd, mcr, gorillaz, and frozen 2 ost but i also play youtube videos that i find interesting like a movie review or skits

🙌 Draw a doodle with your non-dominant hand

i drew both on phone then on the paper bc i technically used a finger, not the hand itself... enjoy?

📐 Whats your favorite kinds of lines to draw?

uhh thick outer lines and thin inner lines?

🦋 Do your drawings resemble you?

not really haha but it kinda does if i do realistic-ish drawings, the features accidentally end up looking like mine plus what i usually draw are "cute and pretty" and no way am i even close to looking like them (¯∇¯٥)

🌊 What’s the hardest thing for you to draw?

HANDS!!! and bodies in general, also glasses when drawing digitally, since the lines get all squiggly (｡•́︿•̀｡)

🙊 Share your latest silly doodle with no context

doesn't he look familiar? ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

i already have base colors of this finished tho 😝

[sonipanda]

It’s been such a long time since I have done a Zohara review, and I am super excited. I love this brand as they have so many unique styles, which are all printed onto tights. What first got me was the pair I reviewed below; they were so out there and the best part is that they were amazing in quality too!

Zohara ‘You’ve Got A Point’ Tights

I have also done some other reviews in the Zohara brand, and if you haven’t already seen them, then hit the links below (opens in a new tab):

Zohara Lily Of The Valley Tights

Zohara Cross It Tights

The Spec

Colour: Black

Size: 1 (Small)

Denier: 100

Materials: 58% Cotton, 37% Polyamide, 5% Elastane

Price: £19.99

Website: Amazon – Zohara “Tape Measure” Black Print Tights

My Outfit

I kept it super casual today in my grey oversized jumper paired with my white high tops. You could easily wear this with a shift dress or skater skirt, but I was running errands, so opted for comfort instead.

My Deets

Jumper: H&M

Tights: Zohara

Trainers: Justfab

    The Review

From The Website: Love the look of these black tights, featuring white measuring ruler print. 100 Denier. Buy now for a great look with your skirts or shorts. Size 1= 34inch-40inch / 5′-5’6″. Size 2= 40inch-46inch / 5’4″-6′

Dress your legs with ‘art on tights’ 100 denier 58% Cotton, 37% Polyamide, 5% Elastane Hand Wash Only ZOR345-BGRSIZE1 Fearless women, we’re all about leg empowerment. We manufacture high-quality, hand-printed tights that you will treasure for some time Hand-printed tights that you will treasure for some time

  The Packaging: now these always look the same in terms of packaging. The front always has a window to show you the pair inside and the back will have the model wearing them along with the composition and hosiery care guide.

When you get in, they will be wrapped in plastic and normally, they never have card inserted inside them.

  Getting Them On: I would make sure you check out my video posted so you can see how I got these on the legs.

I did my usual scrunch and roll up the legs, and they made sure I lined up correctly so they are sitting as straight as they can on the sides of the legs, and the numbering isn’t all wonky.

  On The Legs: now these are interesting as they are mainly made out of cotton, which means these will be keeping your legs cool in summer and warm(ish) in winter!

The denier of these are great, but the more you stretch them out, the less solid they look on the legs. I was fine with the bottom half, but heading towards the thigh is where is started to become a little sheerer.

The quality of these are ok – I expected these to be a little nicer on the legs as the previous pairs I did I loved them, so this is one pair I am not too sure about to be honest. These didn’t snag or rip at all, but I just wasn’t feeling the material.

The material being mainly cotton means that these aren’t as smooth as they look. If anything, they feel a little rough to touch, which means that skirts and dresses won’t be gliding across these but clinging a little instead. Being cotton isn’t a bad thing, but when it’s being stretched out a fair bit, it isn’t that nice.

The fit of them are great otherwise; there was enough material for me to cover my legs well (minus the thigh area) and get that solid black colour.

The print on these are great; there isn’t any inconsistencies or any bits of print coming away.

I do love the whole ruler look it has going on, which makes these super quirky!

  The Toes & Ankle: I felt that there was a little too much material around the toes, that my toes had more than enough room to wiggle in them. They do end up shaping to your feet after a while of being in them, but to begin with, it was quite boxy around the toes.

Around the feet is where the design starts from, so you want to make sure that these sit along the side of the foot.

The ankles are a nice fitted finish, and this will depend on your height. If you’re quite short, expect some wrinkles coming your way. I had to tug mine up a little as the thigh stretched out a lot, but that wasn’t a bad thing. It’s just something to be aware of as height plays a part in these.

  The Waistband: now this is a good waistband. It sits a little higher (above the belly button) on me, but it stays flush against the body all day long so I’m happy with that. The band itself is comfortable and doesn’t dig in at all, which I like especially when I’m on the move.

Around this area, it’s pretty thick so you shouldn’t get any patches where you can see slight sheerness.

    My Thoughts?

I think the design is super funky and a real quirky pair, but the material let me down a little to be honest. I wasn’t expecting that and having the previous pairs being so good in my head, this was a bit of a letdown.

Zohara “Tape Measure” Black Print Tights It's been such a long time since I have done a Zohara review, and I am super excited.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

The Call (PT. 3)

When you catch your boyfriend, Roger Taylor, cheating, you turn to the first person you can think of for solace - Brian May, your best friend of several years. However, you aren’t the only person with the same idea, and soon everything you were hoping to avoid comes knocking at the door.

Read PT. 1 here

Read PT. 2 here

(a/n: this is IT yall ok i loved this little series but writing this made me BIG SAD hope u like it ahhhh)

This wasn’t supposed to be how your night had turned out. You were supposed to watch a movie with Brian, possibly snog a bit, generally forget about Roger for a while. Maybe you’d even sleep over, and then spend the next day together too. Or, he’d take you back to yours after the movies were over, and then you’d invite him in and let him sleep over there.

The opportunities were countless, but instead, here you were, standing between your ex and his best friend, whose boxers you were currently wearing.

“What in the fuck?” Roger sputtered out, unable to comprehend the situation as he stood in the doorway, barely moving. Your heart began to race and you felt your chest tightening, which made you panic and caused your breathing to go all sorts of wonky. This is why you hadn’t wanted to see Roger earlier this morning. You knew that the moment he’d show his face, you would crumble.

God, and he looked so hurt. The betrayal lining his features almost made tears come to your eyes as you stared at him in shock. It was almost enough to make you forget why you’d been here in the first place. Almost.

“Y/N, you alright?” Brian asked, worry lacing his voice as he moved his hands to your shoulders when you turned to face him. The terrified look on your face must have said it all, and he nodded once before ushering you back to the living room, leaving the door open for Roger to do whatever he wanted. Although you wished he would have slammed it in his face, you had more things to worry about at the moment, like not hyperventilating until you passed out. “It’s okay, love, calm down, deep breaths,” Brian coached gently as he sat you down on the couch, his knee pressed against yours.

You nodded, although the room was still spinning, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you grabbed for his hand, or really anything you could get a hold on. Taking your hand and carefully lacing your fingers into his, he kept talking you through your panicked state, and only paused when your heart rate began to slow down. Looking up, he saw Roger standing in the doorway to his living room, looking completely out of his element.

Eyes narrowing, Brian gave him a scathing look before looking back to you. You slowly opened your eyes to see him watching you closely, Roger behind you and out of your line of sight. Still, you could tell by the twitch under Brian’s eye that he was irritated, and you could feel Roger’s heavy presence in the room imposing on you.

“Mind explaining why you’ve got his briefs on?” Roger finally demanded, your vision flashing red as your panic quickly turned to sheer, unmitigated anger at the sound of his voice.

“How fucking dare you!” you screamed, standing up and whirling around to face him. He jumped at the sudden lashing out, on the defensive as you stormed towards him and pushed him back towards the hallway with a fervor he’d never seen out of you before, not once. “How fucking dare you ask me to explain what the fuck I’m doing, Roger! What the fuck are you doing? Why are you here? I don’t want to see your stupid face right now, or ever!”

“That’s rich,” Roger sneered, still somewhat on the defensive as you shook slightly with the anger coursing through your veins. “You’re fucking standing there in my mate’s boxers, and you think I’m the one who has to explain. I ought to fucking tell everyone about the both of you.”

“He lent me his clothes, Roger, is that okay with you?” you asked sarcastically, your voice spiking far above inside levels. “Didn’t know I needed to check with my ex before I stayed over at my friend’s and borrowed his clothes because I’m fucking heartbroken and needed some company.”

“Ex?” Roger nearly choked, pretending to be surprised. “Funny, I don’t remember ever having this conversation where I suddenly became your ex. I just remember showing up to my flat to see my shit outside the door. Oh, and then showing up to my friend’s house to talk to him only to find my fucking girlfriend prancing around in his britches like a little fucking princess.”

“Ex!” you corrected, your stare unwavering as you nearly spit venom with each word. “Ex, Roger, EX! We are not together anymore, you’ve lost your chance, you fucking prick! Get that through your thick skull!”

“Y/N, he’s not worth this,” Brian started, raising to his feet and coming over to gently tug on your arm. You shrugged his hand off though, far beyond consolation at this point.

“Oh, fuck right off, Bri, I’ve already heard more than enough out of you,” Roger hissed, pointing a finger accusingly, but you pushed his hand right back down and instead pressed a finger into his chest. He looked down at your finger, shocked at how aggressive you were getting at the moment. You’d never even laid a hand on him in that way, not even jokingly, and now you were shoving him and blocking his movements. His fiery temper was only stoked by these fierce gestures, so he couldn’t help but get testy. “What the fuck has gotten into you, Y/N? What’s your problem?”

“You, Roger, you are my fucking problem!” you yelled, your voice cracking a bit as you prodded your finger into his chest, pointing at him repeatedly. “You stroll in here all high and mighty and act like you didn’t just go shag half of England these past few months! I’m so sick and fucking tired of acting like everything is okay, Roger! It’s not, it hasn’t been for a long time, and you fucking know it! Three months of hell for me, and you have the audacity to come in here and act like I’m the issue!”

Roger didn’t know why he kept going, but his mouth was faster than his brain, so he immediately fired back. “That’s real fucking ballsy of you, Y/N, accusing me of cheating without any proof. I love you, why in the fuck would I do that?”

“Any proof? You love me?” you spit back, curling up your finger as you stared at him incredulously. “Roger, I’m not fucking blind, I saw the tabloids today. How was Maggie, yeah?”

“You knew her?” he asked, a venomous bite to his voice. “You fucking set me up, you’re mental, Y/N, truly!”

“See, Brian, this is exactly what I was talking about!” you cried out, exasperated as you dropped your finger from his chest and instead crossed your arms. “I knew he’d find a way to turn it on me, like I’m the crazy slag who waited up every night for him to come home smelling like another girl, for his clothes to go missing, to sit by and pretend not to notice all the secret phone calls! I’m fucking mental for standing by his side and supporting him as he went and stuck his tiny little dick in anything that was moving in a 50 foot radius, I’m mental for telling him I loved him despite all the times he blew me off with a poor excuse, while he got his fucking rocks off. Yeah, fuck me, I guess, for setting him up to see if he’d really cheat on me with my old roommate! I’m the crazy bitch!” With your last sentence, your voice cracked again and you finally began crying hot tears of anger, but you didn’t look away from Roger, wanting him to see what he’d done to you. This was his doing, not yours. All his.

He was finally silent, your tears practically putting a muzzle on him as he stood there with a stony expression, not willing to show so much emotion. Especially in front of Brian, who was standing dutifully behind you.

It was like a horrible fever dream to Roger, the love of his life in front of him, but no longer his. It was so confusing. You were just out of his grasp, beyond his reach. Now you were in Brian’s reach, and Brian looked upon Roger with a sort of disdain he’d seen several times before from Brian, but never something so horribly disparaging. His own best friend, now at your side instead of him. And it took him a moment to realize, but every single time he’d seen Brian look down his nose upon him like that was when he’d caught Roger wavering in his loyalty. Every time he’d seen him entertain a groupie, every time he’d seen him steal a flirty glance at a girl across the bar, that same chilly look. But now it was different. Now Brian really had reason to give him that lofty stare, the one that said ‘You’re throwing it all away.’ And it wasn’t a stare of hatred or dislike, it was a stare of frustration. He wanted his friend to be better. This wasn’t a situation he prayed for.

“Don’t look at me like that, Brian,” Roger warned, his voice not matching his words as it shook and trembled. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, best friends don’t stare at you like you’re the scum of the Earth.”

Brian shook his head, stepping between you and Roger as he nodded towards the door. “We’ll talk about this some other time. I think you should go.”

You sat down on the couch again and began to weep quietly, your shoulders shaking as Roger watched you. It was like watching a flower wilt and die, and it made his head spin as he realized that he’d really done it. This was his fault, and he’d lost you completely. It was over.

“Fuck,” Roger whispered, and his lip trembled as he tried to hold back his tears as he backed up towards the door, Brian standing with his arms crossed as he supervised. Roger barely felt the doorknob under his hand as he opened the door, exiting like he was in a trance. As soon as the door clicked shut, Brian calmly walked to it and locked it, even though Roger still stood directly outside, just staring at the faded numbers painted on the door. It hurt, but he couldn’t look away. It was just like watching a train wreck.

It was like watching a love blossom, a new love. 

Sure, it was born out of poor soil, but it blossomed nonetheless, and Roger was forced to the position of observer as you became Brian’s one and only. Brian never wavered, never let his eyes roam. You were his rock, and he was yours. Trust, fidelity, balance, affection. It was all there. All of it. Everything Roger had failed to give you.

The relationship between Roger and Brian remained agreeable. But there was always a clear sense of power there after that day, Brian’s upper hand always looming over Roger’s head and casting a shadow on the rest of his life. And it wasn’t Brian forcing this upon him. The rut that Roger dug himself into, he never seemed to be able to climb out of. He kept himself wallowing in his pain, so he’d be reminded every day why your eyes always averted when he came into view, why your greeting was always a quick wave, and your goodbye also a wave.

He wasn’t there for your wedding. In fact, you didn’t actually have a wedding. You went and got married in private, and you didn’t have a reception. Freddie said it was because you didn’t have enough time to plan with Brian on tour all the time.

Roger knew it was because of him. Because Brian couldn’t have his friend stand up there beside him at the altar, when that friend was the same man who’d practically destroyed his now-wife. He couldn’t just invite the others, either, because that would destroy the amicable relationship they’d worked so hard to maintain for the music.

But it was supposed to be Roger’s kids that you had eventually, not his. Roger was supposed to be Dad, and Brian was supposed to be Uncle Brian. It was so mixed up to him, so wrong, when you finally had your first kid with Brian. This was not how Roger had planned things. He was supposed to be the one on the altar with you. He was supposed to be the father of your kids. He was supposed to be the one by your side for the rest of your life, not him.

Freddie was named the godfather of your child, and Roger was there for the baptism. He watched in complete silence as you and Brian celebrated the new life of your child. You pretended like you were okay with him being there, but it was clear you weren’t.

Even years later, Roger was still the rain on your parade. But rain helps flowers grow, and that was alright with him, he supposed.

PT. 1 PT. 2

taglist - @crosmopolitan  @just-ladyme @rogerfxckingtaylor @fourmisfitz@shae-is-not-ok @moreinfinite @wandering-at-midnight@obsessedwithrogertaylor @fruityfreddie @fantasyalien @phatbottomedgirlz @poachedhazontoast

[mischief-lupin]

10:45

The platform was as busy as ever with families bustling around from one end of the scarlet train all the way down to the other. Smoke was puffing out of the chimney but it wasn’t thick or cloggy like normal. Instead, it was thin and wispy, dancing over people’s heads and weaving between their legs.

From the platform barrier emerged a boy. A boy with faded brown hair and tired green eyes. He was tall, much taller than many of the other eleven year olds around him. He was however, noticeably thinner and paler than the rest of them almost as if he had not had a decent meal in months. His clothes- looking like they had been sown back together many times- hung loosely off his shoulders and around his waist. Wandering forwards, he stared at the train in wonder, still not believing that someone like himself was being given this opportunity.

‘Don’t mess this up. Just act normal and everything will work out just fine-“

"Remus!” A woman’s voice called behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and only just realised how far he’d gone and left his parents behind. He stopped and waited for them to catch up, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Now remember: be careful, if you have any problems go straight to Dumbledore- no one else-, make sure you follow every rule-” Remus’s mother rambled through her speech once again, ignoring her son’s interjections 'I know, yes, okay’ before pulling him into a tight hug.

Once she finally let go, Remus turned to his father who was shaking his head and trying to hide the grin that was creeping across his face. “Do everything you’re mother said but more importantly: don’t forget to have fun okay?” Remus nodded and waved both his parents goodbye before setting off once again down the platform to climb onboard the train.

A quick search, Remus found an empty compartment and settled down next to the window; resting his head against the glass he listened to the chatter of people outside and closed his eyes, excited to arrive at his new school.

10:50

People were still appearing through the barrier despite the fact that the train was due to leave at exactly 11 o'clock. Many who were arriving at this time were running around maniacally, try to store their cases away and say goodbye to their families.

One person who was not rushing around however, was another young boy. He was of an average height but had an athletic build. Even at eleven years of age, he was quite handsome. And he knew it. He had a head of dark hair that stuck up wildly (even though his mother had spent most of the morning trying to stick it down). Perhaps the most prominent feature of this boy though was his smile; it was a charming smirk that suggested he was planning trouble and lured you in, tempting you to take part in the mischief.

“James! Come and say goodbye!” The boy’s mother beckoned him back towards her. Rolling his eyes, he dragged his feet back to his parents.

“I just want to get on, mum!” James whined, embarrassed at how much fuss his mum was making. After letting his parents hug him goodbye, he made a swift exit and began searching for some people to join on the long train ride ahead.

10:57

The train was almost ready to leave, each compartment filled with eleven to seventeen year olds, buzzing with energy to be starting school again.

With only a few minutes to spare, a third boy burst onto the platform. Scanning around, he tried to find someone who could show his where to put his trunk. There was someone, right at the other end of the platform. Another mad dash and with only a minute to spare, he got his things stored away.

A harmony of closimg doors sounded around him and the slow churning of the engine began to rise through the platform.

He needed to get on the train. Fast.

Just there. A door that hadn’t been shut yet.

“Hey! Hold the door!” He called out as he sprinted over, hoping someone would hear him over the growing noise of the train. Out of the door poked a head. James stuck out a hand and just in the nick of time, the boy grabbed hold and James pulled him onboard. “Thanks” The boy began to straighten himself out, pushing black curls of hair out of his face.

“No problem. I’m James by the way, James Potter”

“Sirius. Black” The two boys, stood next to each other could have passed as brothers- or cousins at least- Sirius was of the same height as James- although more slender than Potter- and both shared the mischievous smirk which instantly cracked across their faces.

“You want to find a seat?” James asked confidently, not bothering to ask if Sirius had anyone to sit with beforehand. Sirius shrugged and nodded. They made their way to the end of the compartment and pulled open a door that was occupied by only one other person. The occupant almost jumped out of his seat, his eyes wide and his loud gasp filled the air.

“Sorry mate, were you asleep?” James checked, sliding into the seat opposite with Sirius following suit.

“No, no, it’s alright.” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to make himself more lively.

“I’m James, this is Sirius. You mind if we join?” Before the boy had a chance to answer James pulled off his coat and chucked it on the shelf above his head, getting comfy in his seat and making himself at home.

“I’m Remus, Lupin” Remus, unlike James, was soft-spoken and well-mannered, a quiet one who was more than happy to blend into the back of a crowd.

The three boys looked out the window and watched the city fade into the country; blurred green fields and vast crystal lakes flashed past their eyes.

"You want some?" James' voice broke the silence. Sirius and Remus turned to him and were greeted by his hand, stuck out and holding a bag full of sweets. "Take as many as you want" He encouraged as Sirius reached in and grabbed a handful, dropping them in his lap and happily digging in. "Got into a fight recently?" James joked nodding at Remus's hand; his knuckles were bruised and bandages were poking past the sleeves of his shirt. Remus laughed nervously and quickly retracted his hand. The carriage went quiet again.

Just as the atmosphere began to get uncomfortable, there was a loud crash outside the door, followed by a loud squeal. Sirius leapt to his feet while James and Remus peered curiously at what had just happened.

" 'Scuse me? You alright?" Sirius pulled open the door to see a very small, plump boy picking himself off the floor and dusting off his shoulders. He had mouse-like features; with a long nose and wonky teeth and short, thin dirty blonde hair.

"Y-yeah, just tripped. Th-thanks." Sirius flashed him a smile to say ' you're welcome ' and went to return to his seat when the boy piped up again. "S-sorry, do you mind if I sat with you? All the other carriages are full"

"Course! Come on in" Sirius tapped the empty seat opposite him, welcoming the fourth boy into their group.

After he had settled down, the new boy took in the sight of the others, almost star-struck that they were allowing him to sit with them. "I'm Peter, by the way" The other three introduced themselves and then conversation turned to school. "S-so, what house d'you reckon you'll be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor. No doubt. Easily the best house too." James said, almost lazily as he learnt back in his seat.

"Mum reckons I'll be a Ravenclaw but Dad says I'll be in Gryffindor... Not that I mind either way." Remus explained, yawning mid-sentence. The lack of sleep from a few nights before was catching up to him. He couldn't wait to arrive at the school and get to bed.

"All of my family were in Slytherin-" Sirius stopped as the others silently expressed their dislike for the house. Slytherin, the house believed to create the most evil of people. "I don't agree with my family much. They're values are a bit... Medieval should I say? I would like to be in Gryffindor but if anyone knows anything about the Black family, I'm sure to be in Slytherin."

The train journey stretched well into the evening, Remus had eventually drifted off and James, Sirius and Peter had begun to talk in hushed voices as not to wake him.

"Does he look alright to you?" James asked.

"He does look a bit pale. Maybe he's just under the weather. I'm sure a bit of dinner will perk him up when we get there." Sirius assured, hoping it was just 'new school nerves' that was making their new acquaintance unwell.

At long last, the train pulled to a stop and students began to filter off, most heading right and climbing into carriages that trundled down bumpy roads whilst the rest- presumably all the first years- clambered into boats and floated along the vast lake up to the entrance of the castle.

They were greeted at the tall oak doors by a witch who looked strict, wearing green robes with her dark hair tied into a tight bun. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and informed the group of first years that they were about to sorted into their houses. A mix of nervous and excited chatter seeped through the first years.

"Hey, whether we're all in the same house of not, we should try and hang out sometime." James whispered to other three, but mainly to Sirius who seemed to be the most worried by the looming anticipation of the sorting ceremony.

Eventually, they were in the hall with the rest of the students and all the first years were lined up as McGonagall went through a long list of names.

"Black, Sirius." The four boys exchanged hopeful glances as Sirius stepped up to the sorting hat. He sat on the stool as the tattered old hat muttered to itself. 'Slytherin... But... No, apparently not... Well then... Must be... Gryffindor!'

A relieved, beaming grin lit up Sirius's face as James and the others cheered loudly, watching him march proudly over to the Gryffindor table.

More names: Ravenclaw, two Slytherins, Hufflepuff, the list went on until...

"Lupin, Remus." James clapped Remus on the back as Peter wished him a quiet good luck. He perched on the stool and once again the hat began talking. 'Well, this is new... Let's see, very clever indeed, however also very loyal and true. But then again, I see a lot of courage in such a young person.'

Remus's sorting seemed to take an incredibly long time until at last, the hat decided and triumphantly cried 'Gryffindor'. Remus eagerly jumped off the stool and joined Sirius at the long table for the Gryffindor students.

A little while after, McGonagall called up Peter. He nervously stumbled up to the stool and sat, timidly waiting for the hat to sort him. And he waited... And waited... For even longer than Remus, the hat debated between houses.

"It's been thinking for almost six minutes." Remus said, looking at his watch, the hat still pondering thoughtfully until finally

Gryffindor!

Sirius got to his feet, clapping wildly as Peter joined their table and congratulating him for making the hat think so hard.

Right after Peter was James. He approached the stool with a calm swagger and waited for the hat to placed on his head. No sooner than it had touched James' head, it was being lifted off again and James was dashing over to the other three. He had made it into Gryffindor.

The four boys, amazed by their luck, celebrated by stuffing themselves full with food, enjoying every morsel that they ate (even Remus seemed to brighten up as he tucked into the feast in front of him).

It was the night that sealed the deal. The four boys; James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew would be inseparable whilst at school.