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cilil · 4 months ago

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Today I unearthed a folder in which I saved some good memories from school, mostly drawings and doodles I made together with friends or by myself, and it's making me emotional.

I... found that I made fanart for a game I loved at that time and... the art wasn't bad. Especially for a teenager and beginner artist (yes, I am a beginner artist to this day, it's embarrassing, I know). The art was cute, even has some attempts at shading and converting colors to black and white. I like it. A lot actually.

And now I just sit on my bed, holding these old sketches, and wonder why I never pursued art. I loved it so much. I had fun. My younger self wouldn't have kept these drawings if not, and my older self can see it on the paper, in every line, every stroke, every tiny grain of pencil dust.

What made me think that this wasn't worth pursuing, not worth trying again until many years later? What discouraged me? I don't remember an exact moment or anything; the only thing I know for sure is that I knew and believed - and know and believe to this day, to be honest - that there's a lack of innate ability on my part and that others my age are so far ahead and were back then as well. Hell, I've been behind since I failed to color within the lines in kindergarten.

It feels and felt like a fool's errand to deal with my clumsy hands and messed up back for hours just to end up with something that is... maybe charming in my eyes, but so, so subpar in the grand scheme of things.

I stuck to writing in the end because it was the only thing people said I was good at. And I'm glad I - just this once - had the courage to do so and to keep going and, eventually, push myself into sharing it on the internet too. Through sheer delusion and determination and lots, oh, lots of writing I clawed myself up to a place where I feel just confident enough in my skills to not constantly question myself and happily create.

And therein lies the answer for art as well, doesn't it? "Just keep trying, just put in all those hours and days and months and years of work for it as well, until your hands bleed and your back gives out, eventually you'll get there! Talent is not required either!"

But it's not that simple. I'm not sure I can do this again, muster enough courage and delusion to be terrible for years until I finally start making things that go from subpar to mediocre. And maybe never from mediocre to decent or even good.

When I learned to write, I had other people's claims that I was talented to fall back on and wasn't as hopelessly behind other people. Now motivation is lower and frustration is higher. Learning curves and empty canvases paralyze me; the last time I made art it took me 2 full hours until I could push past it. Not to mention that I'd picked out all references and tutorials and everything a week before.

Where does this leave us? What will I do, you ask? Well. Even if I never beat these demons I can assure you that, every once in a while, the urge will overcome me and I will attempt something. Maybe I'll learn and improve just a little by accident. Maybe I'll even get my ass up and actually learn sometime.

I am technically currently doing an art event somewhere else, so at the very least I will be forced to make a few pieces.

And I know myself a bit better these days. That also helps.

I know that, if anything will get me past the demons, it's obsession, the need to illustrate my own fics and, most importantly, porn.

#if you've read this far thank you for hearing me out #i did want to end this on a lighthearted note #cílil's random rambles #thoughts and feelings #on art #artist woes #being a beginner artist #please know that i'm just very strict with myself but would never ever have the same standards for anyone else

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kerink · 14 days ago

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okay, i finished the book of bill and i wasn't going to make this post because i was sure someone already had, but i was asked to make it anyway so here we go. my compilation of the billford content:

disclaimer: yes, i know this is an abusive relationship. no, this post isn't trying to justify or romanticize it.

SONGS

three songs have been identified in relation to bill and ford:

the first is "we'll meet again" by vera lynn, which is about the singer wishing well to the listener before they travel, and promising to return home to them soon. this song comes up twice, first when bill sang it to ford in the fearamid and then again at the start of the book of bill, where ford says he still gets it stuck in his head upon waking up, giving the impression they both are singing it to each other at different points.

the second is a 1960s song by james and bobby; when you search this, the first song that comes up is "i'm your puppet." the meaning of this song is really straightforward, especially within the context of these two, but you can read this if you'd like. i believe this is the song ford is whistling in his dream before he's confronted by bill's previous victims. during this scene, he's sitting in a birch tree clearing (the tree commonly associated with bill) and sketching a yellow meadowlark.

as an aside, something interesting about the meadowlark is that its chest marking has a very peculiar resemblance...

the third is "sweet dreams (are made of this)" by the eurythmics. after bill tries for days if not weeks to talk to ford about the portal, bill resorts to violence and spends the night abusing ford's body and reputation. when ford wakes up, this is the song bill left playing for him.

as an aside, i think it's interesting that the first draft of the song was played on a black and yellow synthesizer.

HOW TO TRICK EVERYONE INTO LOVING YOU

there is an entire section in the book dedicated to bill outlining his dating tips. of the 8 tips bill gives, he uses 3 of them on ford.

the first is "the love cage," which pretty much ver batum outlines what happened in the fearamid during weirdmageddon.

youtube

the second is "vulnerability," where bill advises you tell your date 1) how no one can relate to you and 2) that you have a tragic back story, both of which he does in one fell swoop.

as an aside, this is a fun chance to peek at bill being an unreliable narrator in some kind of mobius double bluff. when you read these two sections back to back, it appears bill is lying to ford to gain his trust, especially if you also just watched the previous video. however, earlier in the book, it's implied that the genocide of his dimension was traumatic and something he wishes he could undo, and later in the book, after ford leaves him, bill gets drunk and attempts to call his mother, sobbing. this gives the impression that bill was indeed being vulnerable with ford here but doesn't want us, the reader, to know it.

the third is "good ol'-fashioned valentines," where bill provides some cheap and easy gift-giving advice. he then follows this advice for ford's birthday.

as an aside, i think it's funny bill brings up cats here. who belongs to whom, william?

BREAKUP

them both accusing each other of cheating:

a callback to stan's season 1 joke: "my ex-wife still misses me, but her aim is getting better:"

this amazing lower back tattoo bill made him get:

bill totally being fine and normal and great after ford leaves him for good. in fact, he's doing so well that he got drunk and took himself to dinner to celebrate. he's not upset. he's not upset.

and let's not forget mabel calling it like it is, as always:

MISC

and finally, here are some various tidbits i just enjoyed:

ford's a cipherholic attracted to things that hurt him lmfao

can you just give him a normal compliment jesus

the tattoo reads "if lost return to bill"

fated i guess

not tonight dear i have a headache

in conclusion, i definitely think bill is more in love with obsessed with ford than ford is with bill at this point. probably because ford's had a third of his life to come to terms with their partnership, while 30 years to an immortal being is imperceptible. given what we saw with "the love cage" and with how bill tells ford it's not too late to join the henchmaniacs during weirdmageddon, he's probably still trying to get ford back. in his own insane, demonic way.

as an aside, i do think it's interesting that the end of the book implies bill blames stan for turning ford away from him. especially since what he cites is what happens at the end of the show, implying bill thought he still had a chance during weirdmageddon? gives additional weight to my belief bill is still pursuing ford. much to consider.

anyway, thanks for reading! if i missed anything, please let me know!

#gravity falls #bill cipher #stanford pines #Youtube

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ntls-24722 · 3 months ago

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half a sketch dump bc I've had these on the backburner for like... a week at this point 💀

The holy trinity. What I was trying to play with was Rinkalla having a weirder beard - the original concept for her hairstyle was that she's always wanting to do stuff with it. What I thought would be fun is if she had one of those giant, detailed, decorated beards you see in a lot of mesopotamian art. That and it'd make sense for the time period that homo mousike's in.

Solidifying Bugs + the lionflea redesign where I bit the bullet and went straight up dromaeosaur.

Bugs are 8 legged "mollusks" rather than being fully hardshelled, and due to not having a full carapace weighing them down, bugs got huuuuuuge, from being as small as our insects to being as big as elephants. They're pretty much nautiluses that got up on land and evolved to walk on their tentacles with concentric muscles rimming their muscle groups to add support, and they retained their shells as a beetle-like carapace on their backs. Wings are extremely common just like they are in our insects, coming from a derived antennae - The edges of wings are covered in the chemosensory hairs that allow them to smell and taste, and bug ear canals are at the wing-armpits, allowing them to create an external ear when their wings fold up around them.

The ancestors of lionfleas are these occasionally bipedal, beetle-mantis-ospreys that evolved their back limbs to become tails. Lionfleas began to lose more of their limbs as they became more and more bipedal, and during their "ground owl" period they doubled up on the chemosensing hairs both to smell better, but to muffle their flight, just like how owl feathers are fuzzy at the edges, too! Lionfleas can fly, but not for very long, but wings make them stupid scary jumpers.

Speaking of these osprey-beetle things, here's the development of another member of their clade...

Here's this post. I included this whole page because I find it so funny that you can literally SEE the progression happen. I even wrote out "holy shit" when it clicked bc i was losing my mind.

Anyways, the first half is the hypothetical birdguy-DJMM fanchild and the bottom of this page, along with this next picture, is the djmm alien I've been looking for.

Finally, I figured out a design that made a chin and nose necessary, and made the teeth-plates possible. It's only a bonus this guy turned out to be a cutie patootie.

It's a parrot! It's a squid parrot! It came from the same ancestral beetle that the beetle-osprey did, and it evolved wiggly teeth for dexterity and facial expressions. There's a GIANT socket where its teeth sit in, where it can be pulled up into the DJMM "teeth-plate" position, and down into an awful hooked beak position for tearing into prey. Originally it was a modest joint like it is in parrots to better hold things and pull in prey, but it got exaggerated to the point the two hooks can sit vertically just for the sake of seeming demure to other squid-parrots (and to exaggerate when they push their teeth out when they want to look scary).

Their skulls are actually super narrow and only comprise of their jaw, and can actually be pushed out of their face like a goblin shark! Deeply awful! Demonic little thing! however they're very cute. I dont think I'll make these ones sapient, I like them more as fun little animals (and an easter egg DJMM in the, yknow, DJMM alien setting)

Dirt skeleton!!! dirt skeleton yayyy dirt skeleton!!!!! I put these two seperately because I didn't want these two to be cropped. these are so nice doodles.

The dirt skeleton is completely devoid of romantic or sexual desire but he still enjoys being kissed by Comet because he sees it as her bonding with him and he is quite attached to her as well. He fundamentally doesn't understand romantic attraction and doesn't get it, but he does get that there's a bit of social weight to being kissed that he's fine with recieving.

Second doodle is him being stuck in the same position for 5 years to allow his bone to heal. The times the dirt skeleton has fractured bone above ground, his crying eventually becomes this constant, irritable frequency that pretty much gets everything to evacuate within its mile-wide earshot, which is quite convenient. People who get near his site of healing literally get annoyed by this unhearable, yet deeply uncomfortable frequency playing and leave. During this, he also stops percieving the world, blinding and deafening himself, as percieving the world as he experiences the worst pain he can feel becomes overstimulating.

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morningnoodles · 1 year ago

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i can't find it right now but i saw a post a few moons ago that was basically like, "the biggest thing you can do to improve your art is to make whatever you're interested in right now" and listen. LISTEN.

i get it. truly i get it. before this year, i rarely draw boys. least of all older men. i was one of those kids who drew girls and fairies and princesses and just stuck with that for most of my artist journey.

and then- april 2023.

amidst one of the longest creative block i've had in my adult years, i got really into lotr and the hobbit. i constantly had (and still have!) this need to draw the characters, especially bagginshield. and so obviously i followed that need.

i mean, if your brain that's been on block for more than a year suddenly goes, "omg i want to draw them i want to draw them i want to draw them", there is no other correct response but "okay let's draw them!" and the results were absolutely horrendous. over time i do see some improvement. just looking at the art i thought good enough to post back in april and my recent ones, i can see i've improved plenty in quite a short time. i even finally worked out a process in my digital art that i feel happy with!

but to me that was never the point.

i don't think i will ever share the sketches i did on those first few weeks and months. still, i look at pages upon pages of completely messy blobby sketches with great fondness, not because of how much i improved since then but because i remember how much fun i had doing them.

so yes, make art that you love and you'll very likely see improvements. but also making what you love is reason enough to make them.

#on creativity #on art #art stuff #keet rambles

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whoiskt · 5 months ago

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Grad School Q4 - Week 1

All my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe I'll bring this back for Friday summaries.

Here's a Lloyd sketch that might become part of my business card. Working on that right now among many things!

I wasn't really ready to go back to school but rarely in my life have I ever felt that after summer break. This quarter is all required classes, which isn't the most fun but I'll get by okay. Plus, all the classes are pretty much back to back, which gives me such flashbacks to high school, since I'm just in the one building all day.

Anyways, I'm currently kind of nervous because to complete my MFA by the end of summer 2025, I need to go up for review this quarter. But it's required that I have taken 45 credit hours of 700 level courses. Unfortunately, 10 of my 45 credit hours are 500 level courses, so I am technically not eligible. But, since the thesis class is only taught once a year in the winter quarter, missing this milestone would mean pushing my graduation to 2026, which I cannot do, not spiritually and definitely not financially. So, I am asking for an exception to be made, and that is TBD. Because I have a lot riding on this, so I am really very nervous for the answer. We shall see.

I guess worst comes to worst I can switch to an MA. Let's be real... I am not professor material, anyways.

But to get to my week in review: My first class is a writing class. I got excited because I imagined I could do a Lloyd Void spin-off as my main project for this class, one that is geocentric in the sense it would follow my character Earth as a slice of life comedy before the events of LV. However, for this class we were sorted into short groups, and they prefered my sailors and music idea (the one I have been writing as a movie) and I might choose that. I am stuck with the ending, and maybe working that out in the class (since the class is only writing a measly 20 pages) is a fine use of my time as well.

My second class is a studio, and I am making LLOYD VOID KEY ART for the PITCH! This honestly is the most scary thing, because I have to make 9 whole completed illustrations in 10 weeks, and I think my current record for completed illustrations in 10 weeks is something like 4, with some VERY lazy bgs, which I am not allowed here, so wish me luck.

Finally, my last class is something something coloring? Honestly not fully sure but day 1 we had A LOT of hw already due for class 2. (we also had to color a page of a comic but I am not showing that here)

The artist is Lois van Baarle. THIS IS NOT MY ARTWORK I JUST COLORED IT:

Unexpectedly my prof said, "This is very well-done, perhaps even once of the best versions of this I've ever seen." I was shook. I have been studying color all year, trying to get better, but I never expected such a compliment.

I want to get better at reflective lighting still but I have definitely been feeling more confident in palette choices, at least.

Anyways, that's all for now, definitely more artwork to show you next week, bye!

#grad school blogging #lifeblogging

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pumpkin-spike18 · 7 months ago

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✨Weekly Progress #29-30✨

Let me start this off by apologizing for my inactivity 🙇‍♂️ I try not to dive too deeply into my mental health on this blog, but those who know me well know how much I struggle with it. I think my brain shut down and retreated after finishing my recent projects. I relied on daily never-ending tasks to get me through each day with a sense of accomplishment so when that ended, I wound up in a void where I couldn't bring my creativity to amount to anything new.

I kicked my butt back into gear the last couple of days after realizing how little I did during week 29 (and week 28 looked inflated, but I did most of the work in 2-3 days leaving most of my week blank).

I don't know where I'll go from here, but I've worked out some new upcoming plans for future projects! And I'll do my best to start replying to messages and comments;; I've left everyone on read for long enough...!!

Thank you so much everyone, for continuing to support me al this time! 💕

Weekly Progress #29

Wrote O2A2 post mortem

Finished aKwtD ref sheet lines, flat colors

Weekly Progress #30

Finished aKwtD Liz refsheet

Finished aKwtD Camille refsheet

Reorganized/scheduled work

made SFB roadmap

Prepped SYVNH plan

Updated vgen services

Drafted more proposals

Sketched SFB sprite

Detective story concepting/outlining

A Kiss with the Devil

I completed the refsheets for Ley's upcoming yuri game!

It was a lot of fun designing them from scratch and then being able to render them in full body art! I've always shied away from full body pieces because they take a lot of time and energy... the refsheets took over a week from sketch to final piece. But I'm really happy with how they came out!

Camille, the player character, and her love interest, an immortal and possibly immoral eldritch creature, Liz!

A Sky of Falling Birds

I'm working on proposals for funding and marketing of this game as it will be a commercial work when finished. I created a new roadmap for how I'll plan to get more assets done (...and reduce the number of assets, hopefully). The current plan is to have a Demo 2.0 for Yuri Jam to better show off the story since the current demo focused more on the art and animation aspect.

A sketch for the final character sprite of SFB. I originally planned to give her two outfits, but I might try to cut that if I can...

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel... HELP!!

Yes...! I've still got a bit of work left for this project!! Mainly some future updates. I do want to get a steam release for SYVNH one day so I'm working towards that!

I will also be putting out some surveys soon for interest in merch based on the characters. The feasibility of it will depend on interest for what type of merch, ofc, but at the very least, I will be working on some new art for folks soon [: As a thank you for playing, and all the love you've shown for the game so far!

Other

I went into more detail than I probably should've in the intro of this post, but even in my "slump," I've been busy practicing art when I'm not getting my butt kicked by some Hollow Knight mini boss for 2 hours.

I've started a doodle blog, that some folks found in less than 24 hours 💦I'm not ready to formally connect the two together, but if it seems like I've been active there, it's just cause I draw a lot every day. It makes the monotony feel better. This blog will still contain all of my devwork, but all my art musings will be in that one.

I'm sure I'll have the courage to link the two together soon.

#devlog #vnlink #visual novel #akwtd #syvnh #sfb #pumpkinthoughts

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binarybitex · 9 months ago

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behind the scenes: Boss Babysitter

with the most recent chapter of Heart Hollow being released (Boss Babysitter), I thought I'd share some insights into my creation, writing, and notetaking for it.

caution: this post contains spoilers!

Welcome to Boss Babysitter; Mr. Andrei Wright decides he needs to come back down to the Hotel's floor after his Assistant Manager - Lewis Lockheart - destroys company property in an emotional overflow. Zeke, still processing having seen his orderly manager snap, has to join the two managers throughout daily tasks at Heart Hollow Hotel. The three of them oversee maintenance, attempt to review an end-of-week-report, and have a meeting with housekeeping. Not even halfway through the day, Mr. Wright decides it's time for lunch; Zeke offers him a cigarette outside in order to give the two managers some space. One questionable conversation later, Zeke trudges back inside to enjoy Lewis' company for the remainder of his break. After a brief history lesson and some comments that are just a bit too sweet for coworkers, Zeke and Lewis' attention is brought outside as Andrei Wright gets arrested for fraud.

the earliest mention of this chapter was from the very first Heart Hollow master arc list (dated 2019 or so). a lot of things have changed, but I knew from the get-go that Andrei was going to be arrested.

fun fact: when i was originally creating Heart Hollow in 2019, I was taking a much more adult-comedy-cartoon route. there was, in fact, going to be a shoot-out as (gasp) the FBI and (even bigger gasp) the IRS show up!!! i decided to scrap that. it just doesn't match the "real-life" drama route im taking now lol

the arc list from november 2021 is one of the first redrafts of the story after my 2-year art block.... the one from april 2022 was after I started making the comic. again, lots of things have changed, but I always outlined space for an episode revolving around Andrei's arrest

here's me brainstorming potential chapter names. i recall struggling with the name because i liked a lot of my options; however, i eventually stuck to "Boss Babysitter"

........

(eheheh it's a play on the hit DreamWorks film "The Boss Baby" featuring Alec Baldwin as "The Boss Baby")

the first idea on what i wanted the meat of the chapter to be about. i wanted to really put the nail in the coffin about Andrei's mismanagement and how that's been affecting Lewis.

more exploration into what the chapter was to be about. i find this one curious, actually, as this was from my earlier notebook (2021-2022) so I guuuuueeeeess I had a pretty good grasp on this chapter early on......??? thank god for notebooks bc it's really hard to keep everything crammed up in my brain.

the chapter before it ("The Heart of Heart Hollow") concluded on Lewis punching the employee bathroom's mirror. i had to bring up the aftermath, how Zeke was managing having seen that. i also wanted to touch upon Lewis' return back, and how unlike him it is to take an impromptu vacation like that. i knew even in the earliest drafts of this scene, that Lewis was going to lie about where he got his wounds from.

early sketches of Lewis' arrival after his impromptu vacation. these lil thumbnails make me giggle.... theyre just so silly lookin.

i also needed to consider how their day was spent with Andrei joining them. i broke it down piece by piece here, scene by scene. i love my additions of dialogue within my loose ideas. it really brings momentum to my writing process.

also, sidenote: can I just say that I do not hold the same beliefs as Andrei? he's a shit head and i wanted to make his character very uncomfortable to be around.

the scene between Andrei and Zeke was one I've had planned for years. it was so euphoric to finally write it out and send it out into the world. here's the snippet where he outwardly admits to his white collar crime.

for the longest time, I was going to reveal that Zeke was living at the Hotel at the very end of "Boss Babysitter"..... however, when I was writing the aftermath of the mirror break (in "The Heart of Heart Hollow"), I thought it appropriate to include Zeke's squatter status. the drama of the story starts to tie itself together as we witness Lewis do something dangerous and impulsive, and learn something rather confidential about Zeke. we start to wonder: who are these characters? what have they gone through to lead them here?

lastly...... just a little doodle of Andrei in prison garb. i love that he's let his beard grow a bit more.

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zoannearts · 1 month ago

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Here is some sketchbook work, i really wish to get back in to drawing a lot in my sketch book just using it as a place to have fun experiment or dump my various ideas, I have so much world building lore and character lore in my headmor random ideas that I never put down anywhere visually, this sketchbook is going to be for that

I also want to get over the need I have felt in my previous sketchbooks that I quit half way through for trying to ake them perfect and polished, I want this one to be vibrant and filled and use more mediums than just my usual pencil sketches but I dont want it to be polished and perfect I want it to be messy fun and lived in, and actually used!!

So i plan on sharing this process if making a messy sketchbook kind of scrapbook kinda thing mostly filled with world building ideas and character stuff lol

The first two pages are from when I tried to start this sketchbook last year and stressed myself out of it by wanting it to be “aesthetic” so I cut out a couple of the pictures I liked stuck them in as the cover pages and now I’ve properly started it as of January 1st

Hoping to upload weekly all the pages I have done that week, but I might just upload pictures as I finish a page? Not sure which is best for me and my schedule we’ll see

First pages are one of my fursona puppy characters

2nd January- some sketches of my original character Llynaira I was experimenting with some hairstyle/headdress ideas for what she would wear other than her main style, the left one is referenced from an ancient roman statue of a woman with a more fancy hairstyles for the time, I saw it and thought it really suited her, maybe wearing it for something like a ball or royal engagement, the right one is something I could imagine her wearing to church

Page 3rd and 4th January

Finally drawing more of my original fantasy species the “Ikadios” not necessarily happy with the name even though it’s been their name for a long time now, but they are a bird people who live predominantly on a floating mountain which is shackled to the ground with chains as to stop it from floating away, the Ikadios can take many different shapes and sizes looking very different from one another depending on the type of bird that they are, these two are inspired by Horneros little “oven birds” found in south America

It’s been ages since I have used my brush pens so it’s nice to play with them again and add some colour in to my sketchbook

Materials used- moleskin sketchbook, brush pens (copics and flexmarkers/pro markers) copic paint pens, home made gesso, mechanical pencils, acrylic paint

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wilowby · 2 months ago

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Pop or flop?

“If 6 Was 4”

Only an hour till Halloween night remained and Kyle was still painting the cardboard scythe that he’d built for his costume. Most every aspect of his diy outfit was last minute, using clothes and items he’d already had. But the props and more special details had to be made by hand, which was no biggie. He liked projects. But it was never as much fun when he was in a rush.

He and his pals had decided to dress as ninjas from a cartoon they used to watch when they were younger. Each character wore a different color, Stan had chosen blue, Cartman: green, and Kenny was hell bent on being the girl until the boys clowned on him enough to change his mind. In the end he was to be the red ninja.

Kyle had been stuck choosing between his two favorites, the ninja with the white outfit vs the one in black. As much as he appreciated genius characters, the ninja in black was just so much stronger and cooler, therefore the choice was obvious.

What excited him most about his costume was the golden weapon. The thought of being able to hang his very own life sized prop from the show in his room made having to actually build the damn thing worth it. He’d spent the morning sketching onto cardboard according to measurements he’d come up with, cutting and hot gluing, to finally be at the part where he could actually make the weapon, well, golden.

Though to be fair it was just a basic yellow color at the moment. But the sky was darker every time he checked and Kyle wasn’t sure if it was worth it to start on shading and highlights that he couldn’t finish. There was a front *and* back, after all. If he could just ensure the entire thing was one solid color and *dry*, maybe that would be enough.

Humming along to the sounds of electric guitars and drums emitting from his phone, Kyle did his best to ignore the alarming speed of his heart beats. It was just the medication, which the doctor said there might be side effects from. But he had to push through because apparently it takes weeks for that stupid small pill to kick in.

It had only been five days and Kyle was starting to lose weight. He could barely eat more than a meal and a half a day. Loss of appetite, another side effect. But people online said that was normal and everyone experienced it. He would just have to force himself and maybe set alarms for every meal time.

That part seemed strange to him. He thought the point was he wouldn’t be losing track of time anymore. Still, he followed that advice. As well as many other pieces he’d come across. To think his whole life would have to change, all his routines and habits. Just to support the new pace of his brain. Just to feel more normal.

Kyle put the paintbrush down to shake his hand. He was being so jittery it pissed him off. A lot of other things were making him upset recently, like the way he couldn’t zone out of boring conversations anymore because his ears began to pick up everything. Or how unappetizing his favorite foods looked like throughout the day.

When he woke up he couldn’t think. Like a cloud settled inside his head. But during the day, although clear, his thoughts still seemed empty. Like the metaphorical hamster he always used to explain his mind was just sitting there, thinking freely to itself but no longer wanting to run on the wheel. For what? It didn’t need it anymore.

Something about that made Kyle sad. He sat there staring at the brush and his project and willed something crazy to happen. A sudden bolt of lightning outside or the formation of a magical portal right beneath him. Or even just for his mom to come in and ask him a question. But nothing happened.

Moving only his eyes, Kyle glanced at his phone which was still playing music, a tune that was starting to sound like the same beat over and over. Before any consultation, he attempted to surprise himself by quickly reaching for the device. But it was no use, he had already seen that coming from a mile away. So predictable.

Defeatedly, he sighed and opened the messaging app.

Call?

He waited patiently for a response, which made him sick to his stomach.

The patience, not the response, which was:

👍

Kyle taped the video call button, adjusting a few strands of hair as he saw his reflection in waiting. A moment later, Stan picked up.

#lmk if i should continue #south park fanfiction #adhd & medication #kyle broflovski #wilwrites #can you guess who the ninjas are lmao

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xjoonchildx · 10 months ago

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Hi Ana,

I hope you've been well. I'm super shy and normally, reaching out to folks, much less to one of my favourite authors on here (Greedy!Yoongi will always have my heart), would drown me in anxiety, but I finally managed to read Kanalia (I'd had that on hold for years) and I just had to tell you how much of a wonderful writer you are.

I'm an editor by profession and aspiring writer by hobby, and I loved every part of the story. The characterisation, the yearning and the passion, the final realisation that if the King wasn't going to keep to his word, all bets were off... It made me cry but also brightened up my sunday morning, so much so that I've come straight here to ramble all this at you after spending a couple of hours sobbing into my pillow while reading it.

Ngl, i wondered if it would veer off into a humdrum love triangle, as these things so often do, and I was pleasantly surprised that it did not. The scene at the stables, especially, chefs kiss! Although, I've got to wonder - this Hoseok had shades of Anthony Bridgerton - was that something you were going for? The subtlety in there was very well done.

I also loved the FL and the way her motivations and character arc progressed. It was done logically and skillfully and I felt myself wishing again and again, while reading through, that some of the traditionally published authors I've read possessed the skillset that you and many others, not just in the BTS fandom but also elsewhere, have.

I've been reading fanfiction for such a long time and nothing has ever come close to how well written Kanalia is, imo. It has always astounded me that so many people are simply hanging around in this world, writing such amazing fics, simply for the fun of it. I've written, both for work and otherwise, and I know how difficult it is.

Fandom is wonderful and Ana, you and your friends are such a lovely, wonderful part of it. Please keep writing.

(Please excuse the familiarity with which I've written - I've read your work and lurked on your blog for so long, it feels like you're a friend. I apologise if I sound too familiar 😄)

wow, anon. where do i even begin with this kind, supportive, motivating message? i'm humbled 😭💕😭

first, let me thank you for reaching out even though you're shy. i know for some people it's kind of daunting to speak to internet strangers, but i assure you this ask made my day/week/month/year.

second, thank you endlessly for your kind words about greedy and kanalia. the fact that you are an editor makes this feedback even more precious to me (and an aspiring writer 👀). this story took me a long time to write (as you know) and the fact that people stuck with me through that long process is just the best.

i super appreciate your feedback about the plot developments, too. i know a lot of people were expecting a very dramatic confrontation between LJ and the King, but something about that angle didn't feel right to me. i saw both of them living these shadow lives as the most likely and most successful option and certainly there is still drama in them both choosing to seek their happiness in other people.

as to the bridgerton angle, i have yet to get through a full season of bridgerton and it's not because it's not right up my alley -- this is actually my favorite kind of historical romance! i'm just lacking for time lately so i'm going to pick it back up because the few episodes i did get through i really enjoyed. but i've read many a historical romance, so no doubt there are some similarities.

your girl is weak for an outwardly-cold, inwardly-mush man as my fics are a testament to 😂

the thing about this wonderful message is that it's scratched that part of my brain that yearns to write a real book. a real series. i have a dream to convert the guarded series into real books (along with stories sketched out for the remaining members) and i don't know what's keeping me from trying. i'm in this awful space where i've accepted a promotion at work and the time commitment that i have to put in is crowding out my real passions and that sucks.

i don't have aspirations of being at the very top of my field, because even though i know i'm very good at my job it's not my passion. and don't i want to give myself time and space to be able to do my real passion? i really, really do. and when i go back and skim through the guarded series i see so many things that i want to change and tweak and make better. transforming that story is a dream of mine, and maybe it's time for me to stop making excuses and actually chase a dream.

anyways, sorry for the rambling. just know that this message means the world to me. maybe one day i'll be able to come here and tell you that i've finally made my dream come true 💕

#anagrams 💕#fic: kanalia

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outlandishscenarios · 3 years ago

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I have to admit I have fallen into a rabbit hole of inspiration . I couldn't help myself q~q they were stuck in my head for days. I share the idea after many nights of hard work, with out further ado behold pirate Sun and Moon. I love pirates so very much and I had to, I really really had too. I spent nights thinking and building scenarios and I finally finished their designs.

And fear not I did make a y/n for this au cause why not really couldn’t help myself not to.

Im still working out the story and stuff for them all. I have so far is that both Sun and Moon are co-captains of a pirate crew and they each have their unique skills set to them so for example moon is left handed and a good swordsman, it's like he dances with his sword as he fights. While Sun is he's more defensive in swordsmanship, the one thing he's skilled at is his marksmanship he can shoot a cannon with precise aim and not only just cannons. Still adding bits to them and making ton more sketches to add more to them. I do have to admit there not animatronics and before anyone ask yes they are siblings which everything would be explained in some more sketches or I'll cave and write a story for them (more this option then anything really).

If your wondering why the belt like strap missing in moons second design drawing. I kinda forgot to write he takes it off before battle due to him not wanting to feel restricted in movement with it on, (he wears it for show cause it looks good on him). Yeah didn't see that till after I added the image here =-= sorry it's like 7:30 am I haven't slept and spent several sleepless nights for weeks doing these guys designs along with another au idea at the same time, not the smart decision on my end working day and night on these with no rest but that besides the point, they both been stuck with me so I'm sorry for dumping these ideas and designs out of now where.

Y/N was the fun one to do since I fiddled with different looks and design all while trying to give them a personality. This y/n is a hard work who trys to put above and beyond 100% and forgets basic things such as remembering to sleep or nap. I'm still working on the way things would go and how they join the crew but so far it's seems to be connecting.

The second idea was actually the first au idea but pirates won to be finish first, the other I'll send once I'm done with the final designs on both boys. Any ways have a great day every one or night or evening and be safe out there in the world. Apologies if they look blurry Tumblr made it fuzzy in posting q~q just tap on them to see them crispy clearer.

Edit: Moons sword placement has been fixed but I can't help but feel like in redrawing the sword I made it tiny then the original q~q. It will haunt me

#fnaf moon #fnaf sun #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf au #OutlandishScenarios art #my art #pirate au #y/n #self insert #y/n x sundrop #y/n x moondrop #second guessing as i do this been so long since i posted art but i wanna at least try again #Pirate Sun #Pirate Moon #in all honest im going to cave and write a fic cause my brain cant stop working on ideas on both au ideas #really do hope you all like pirates too

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barbarianprncess · 4 years ago

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is there a reason you’re blushing like that !!!!

i actually loved writing this so thank you for the prompt!

forever house

read on ao3

“Mom, I’m home!” Percy calls distractedly into their apartment as he wrestles with his skateboard.

“Hi honey,” Sally answers from the couch, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she says “There's a surprise for you in your bedroom.” He furrows his brow and hurries upstairs. He opens his bedroom door expecting cookies and is instead greeted with familiar blonde hair and a bed overrun with papers far too complicated to be his own. He can’t help the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of his girlfriend, still in her Catholic school uniform.

“Hey!” He leans over his bedspread being very careful not to wrinkle her designs to plant a kiss on her cheek. “How’s my favorite genius?”

“Hey Percy.” Annabeth is currently scrambling to get her papers in order, which he finds odd because usually when he calls her a genius she’ll smile and kiss him extra gently. And then she only needs a little prodding and he can get her to explain what she's working on. She gets this crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she talks about her projects and gesticulates wildly to get him to understand. It’s awesome.

But right now, Annabeth is beet red, eyes manic, and piling papers with a vengeance. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening but Annabeths got this look in her eye- like one wrong move and she’s gonna bolt. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing!” She says voice cracking in a way that clues him in on the fact that the subject of her stress but her work. Which Percy finds ridiculous because he may not understand the nuanced and complicated world of design, but Annabeth’s smarter than anyone, she’ll figure whatever it is out. Annabeth gets like this sometimes- ADHD fixation and her need for perfection is a combo that doesn’t mix well and in the months that they’ve been dating, there have been more than a few times when Percy had to loosen her fistes curled around her designs in frustration, and talk her down from a panic attack because Apollo didn’t love his statue. Percy hates that her work does that to her, but he likes taking care of her.

“Annabeth,” He says slowly, hands already positioned to relieve her of the designs that she managed to wrangle in her lap, but she bats them away.

“No, no it's not- I’m not.” She looks up at him and her eyes soften at his concern. “I’m fine, seriously I’m not stuck on anything.” Percy raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Sooo… is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Annabeth's hands fly up to her neck as if she can stop the flush of her skin from the outside. Which is a mistake on her part because Percy immediately grabs the blueprint she was so desperately trying to hide. She lunges for it, causing the remaining papers to fall forgotten on the floor, but Percy's growth spurt, along with the angle she’s sitting on his bed, makes it so he’s able to keep her at bay.

“Percy!! Give it back, oh my gods, I’m gonna kill you!” He’s heard that before and he’s still breathing so, he takes his chances. He makes out the words “Forever House: Annabeth Chase”, and a vague sketch of what looks like a shoreline. He catches Montauk and something about support beams when Annabeth finally succeeds in snatching the paper from him. She’s flushing even harder now, and her hands are covering her face.

“Which of the gods are asking for a forever house?” He laughs until he notices Annabeth shaking her head and she lets out a muffled ‘none of ‘em’ from behind her hands.

“Hey, hey Annabeth.” He says softly poking at her sides and pinching at her cheeks (he gets mostly fingers because she’s still covering her face but, all the better to grab her hands with). She sighs and lets him take her hands and sit on the edge of the bed, still not meeting his eyes. He squeezes the fingers in his grasp, a silent promise not to make fun of her, and she takes a deep breath and forces out an explanation.

“Well, a couple weeks ago, while I was waiting for you to get out of school, me and your mom talked for a while and she mentioned some of your trips to Montauk and how much you loved them, and we were looking at pictures and she mentioned how you always said you wanted to live there, right on the beach when you got older, and inspiration kinda struck and I started sketching out your hypothetical beach house. And I guess subconsciously, your beach house became a version of…. the forever house.”

Now, Percy’s heard of the hypothetical ‘forever house’ before. Annabeth had told him once about her favorite theoretical place, created when she was little. Having lost every person and place she was told to call home, caused a deep distrust for anywhere she lived in the future. (He doesn’t blame her, he’s not sure he could ever trust anything if he went through what she went through before Luke turned to Kronos- let alone everything she went through after.) So to cope, in her head she’d design a house that she’d build when she was older- now known as the forever house. She told him she daydreamed about building it, how it’d be open and bright with huge windows so she’d never feel alone again. But, despite its openness, it’d be sturdy and rooted in place. The design and location changed over time but it always had big windows and it was always immobile. And no matter what happend, that house would be her ‘something permanent’. Her forever house.

As what she was saying registered, Percy’s smile grew impossibly wide. Annabeth must’ve assumed he was laughing at her and deflated. “I know, it’s stupid and creepy just forget it ok I didn’t mean-”

He let go of her hands as she rambled and cut her off with a kiss. He wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling with words, so he let his body speak for him. His thumb swipes at her cheek (I’m sorry that you had to build a house in your head because the people that were supposed to love you didn’t, it wasn’t your fault, thank you for trusting me anyway), he runs fingers through her hair (It’s an honor to be a part of your future, I’m going to care about you, on purpose, for as long as you’ll let me), he tilts up her chin to deepen the kiss (I love you, all of you).

When they part he rests his forehead on hers and allows himself a minute to be in awe of her. He learned a long time ago that Annabeth was brave. But after learning so many of the intimate details of her past, he thinks that her ability to love at all is an act of bravery. Everytime she tells him a secret, or holds his hand, or lets him walk through one of her walls is an act of rebellion. To love Annabeth is to be in awe of her relentless courage.

“Thank you.” He whispers. He doesn’t clarify what for and she doesn’t ask. She just smiles something small and says, “You’re welcome.”

He kisses her forehead because he can and half-laughs out, “You made me a house.”

“Ugh.” She buries her head in his shoulder bites at his collarbone in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me, you know how I know?”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“Because you made me a house!” He says gleefully into her hair.

Annabeth shoves him back on the bed and he pulls her down with him. She half on top of him, face buried in his chest when she retorts,

“I made us a house.”

He hopes she doesn’t mind when his arms tighten around her. It’s instinct. And a necessity. And when he whispers i love you into her hair, it's a silent promise. A promise to do anything and everything possible to get them to that house one day. From the way she smiles into his shirt, she’s gonna do the same.

#i cant write anything under 1k for some reason #i hope you like it! <3 #it was rlly fun #ive had the forever house headcanon for so long so im happens its come in use #percabeth #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #rbs appreciated #my writing #anon ask #prompts #fic rec

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lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

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Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

#harry potter #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #L writes #by request

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borkthemork · 3 years ago

Text

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

---

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

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

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended.

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

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

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

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

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps. Not right now though.

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

---

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

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

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

At least, until Anne became a priority.

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

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

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

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

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

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

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

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

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

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

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

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

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

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

---

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

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

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not one bit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Anne.

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

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

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

“I try not to think about it.”

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

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

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