#cursive handwriting practice sheet

[starscream-is-my-wife]

This is part 1 of a continuation for my other post where LL Megatron gets trapped in the G1 universe, I was thinking about how someone would go insane in this cartoon world and thought "what if Megatron had someone else to accompany him" so, I gave Starscream an existential crisis

Edit: pt 2 here

[seramilla]

So in divorced au Sera gave Carmilla her number and I wonder how long it takes Carmilla to call and how Sera reacts.

It's hot, it's muggy, and Carmilla and the girls have been active all day. Odette and Clara want to go snorkeling that afternoon, despite already spending the entire morning on the beach. Carmilla thinks it might be good to go to the spa alone without them...or maybe head back to the room and get all the sand out of her swimsuit first. Yeah, that would probably be wise.

As soon as she enters their suite, the feeling of the air conditioner on full blast almost makes her moan as it hits her overheated skin. She'd reapplied sunblock at least twice during their escapades, so she shouldn't be getting a sunburn. But she's still hot all over, and jumps into a cold shower with her swimsuit on, working out all the itchy sand from places she'd rather not think about.

When she gets out, she redresses in an adorable little sundress, and looks at the resort schedule. Women's time at the hotel spa is reserved for later that evening. That should allow her to chill in the room for a couple of hours, let the girls work off some more energy, and then they can all go together for manicures and facials. She lies on the hotel bed, sighing heavily into the plush sheets. This week has been crazy...a good kind of crazy, but she's still a little too wound up to relax.

Her phone buzzes on the bed next to her. It's Odette. Apparently, she and Clara had met some other young adults staying at the hotel and decided not to go snorkeling. Now they want to "hang out" for the rest of the afternoon with their new friends. Carmilla groans. She didn't bring them to this place so they could spend time away from her...this was supposed to be their vacation, damn it!

But...she thinks back to when she was that age. Kids will be kids. They are just newly adults, almost drinking age, and experiencing new things...she doesn't know whether a few hours of independence will make that much of a difference to their plans.

"You are not to leave the resort grounds," Carmilla texts back sternly. "You don't know these people."

"Fine, Mom," Odette says. She can practically hear her daughter grumbling to herself over text. "We're just getting lunch at the hotel restaurant, okay? Then we might go to the arcade. It's right next door."

"Two hours. That's it." Carmilla texts. "Your phone is charged? You know how to reach me in case of an emergency?"

"Yes, Mama," Odette confirms. "We know. Your number and 911 are both on speed dial, I promise."

"Two hours," Carmilla reiterates again. "Then back up here. Not five minutes longer."

Odette texts her a thumbs-up emoji, followed by a, "Got it. Love you, Mama!" Carmilla leaves it at that.

Carmilla wonders how she's going to spend the next few hours now. She thinks about taking a nap, but no, she's definitely too wound up to do that. That's entirely out of the question while her brain is working a mile a minute worrying about the girls. She looks over at the bedside table, where she'd left her room key, searching for the TV remote.

Instead, she finds that slip of paper the hotel manager had given her. The one with her name and phone number written on it...her handwriting is so delicate. The lines are so distinct and curved, and they have a playful little swirl to them, like she's trying not to write in cursive and not quite succeeding. There's even a little...is that a heart? It's very subtle, but it looks like a heart joining the "A" or her first name and "E" of her last name.

Sera Espinosa. It has a nice, melodic ring to it. Carmilla thinks...why the fuck not? If the girls can have their fun, why can't she? It's not exactly a date, is it? Had that been Sera's intention? Sera had given her the number because she wants to be called. Or was that just for hotel emergencies, or something she needed during her stay?

Only one way to find out.

Carmilla dials the number on the paper, and after only the second ring, a soft, pleasant voice answers the phone, sounding a little concerned, and also a little tired, despite the friendly greeting.

"Good afternoon, Sera speaking!"

Carmilla swallows. "He-hello. This is Carmilla Carmine. Up in Room 4-D."

"Oh! Yes! Carmilla, hello!" There is some fumbling on Sera's end of the line, as if she's looking for something, or moving very fast. "Sorry, let me sit down... There we go. How are you? Do you need anything? Are you enjoying your stay?"

"Yes," Carmilla confirms, beaming at the happy inflection to the other woman's voice. Suddenly, she'd gone from sounding tired to genuinely happy to hear from here. "We are having a wonderful time. Your facility is exquisite. But I was just wondering...my girls are going to be busy this afternoon, and I have no plans until the spa opens. Would you care to...have a late lunch with me? I'd like to thank you for making me and my girls feel at home here. If you can't, that's fine...but I would be delighted to treat you."

Sera goes quiet for a few moments, and then answers in the affirmative, if not a little shaky and awkward.

"Oh-oh my....umm, yes! Yes, yes, of course I would! That would be so lovely! I know of a little café around the corner, if you'd like someplace less busy than the hotel restaurant. It's so crowded there at this time of day. Can I walk you over there once you come down?"

Carmilla's heart beats a mile per minute behind her breastbone. She hadn't been expecting Sera to be so welcoming and casual about all of this...nor had she expected to go on a...date today, if that's actually what this is. But she's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Sure...absolutely!" Carmilla responds, trying to hide the awkwardness in her own voice. "I would love that. Give me 5 minutes and I'll be ready to go. I'm looking forward to it."

[38sr]

not sure if this necessary qualifies as an #industryQs but any tips for doing line art that does just look like i’m drawing a coloring sheet if that makes sense? idk something just feels clunky and off about it compared to others art (including yours which is awesome btw)

Oh hmmmmmmm, well honestly my lineart is a result of my handwriting being pure cursive. So, I normally suggest people to practice writing in cursive haha. It might be a weird suggestion, but penmanship classes actually helped me a lot with understanding line depth and control throughout my art journey. If you think about it, writing in cursive is about using one line (or the least amount) to write a whole word. That requires control of pen pressure and when to curve, make short strokes, long strokes, etc. The more you practice that, the more decisive you are with your line making.

For this drawing, I used a thicker, gritty brush and you probably can't tell but I'm using a combination of long and short strokes to help push the pen pressure (or really the line thickness from the brush).

All the red lines are long, singular strokes that have a bit more variation in line thickness unlike the blue lines (mainly the hair) which have the same line thickness. Personally when I see young artists start out, the line weight feels heavy and flat because there's not a lot of confidence in the line making. More strokes doesn't always mean a better line. Knowing when to use a long or short stroke can drastically change the "look" of a line. And the extra cool thing about it is that it can be applied to any pen/brush you use:

In this drawing, I'm using a brush that has no pen pressure whatsoever. The line weight/thickness doesn't change regardless if I'm using a long or short stroke and yet it doesn't feel flat.

But something like this starts combining line with form (human body, fabric, hair, etc.). Which for myself was good way for me to learn how to depict form more decisively (and accurately) since I couldn't rely on line weight to make thicker strokes. So, I would say try practicing writing in cursive to help feel more comfortable with line making. A common practice is writing the English alphabet in one stroke (it's possible trust me haha) or the least amount of strokes possible. Also drawing/writing strictly in ink traditionally can help you think more about what lines you want to make since it's more permanent. At least that's what helped me, so don't feel like to have to do any of this if it doesn't work for you. ^^; I hope that answered your question!

[thestarminstrel]

What’s something that you think Nicholas would know how to do that Seiji wouldn’t? (and vice versa?) (e.g. make a perfect soft boiled egg, recite the alphabet backwards, give a good neck massage, etc)

oh man i have had to THINK about this one. but i think here's my little list for stuff that nick knows:

with a little bit of cooking practice with eugene, nick gets really good at using up food about to go bad and actually making decent meals out of it (not that seiji doesn't know at minimum cooking basics)

simple mending for clothes (think needle and thread and small holes/seams)

nick is able to find almost anything online from movies to textbooks

dunno if this is a skill but nick can always pick up the wilhelm scream the first time he watches a movie, no matter how subtle it is

this is so not an original hc in any regard, but nick's really good at reshaving his undercut by himself and doesn't need a mirror for the back of his head

now seiji:

i don't know where the fuck i said this but i am convinced that seiji is an office suite guy. he makes the most banger powerpoint presentations, breezes through word formatting, excel sheets are scared of him. also uses outlook and i personally am giving him shit for it (so does nick)

mending books! it's such a specific skill but i imagine seiji has some limited edition copies of his favorite books and tries to upkeep them

origami, but specifically the harder ones. i hc that one of seiji's grandparents taught him and that's something they always did together

cursive and it's neat as a pin. his normal handwriting is also neat and compact, but seiji has the prettiest cursive and you can't convince me otherwise

this was such a fun ask and im sure more answers to this ask will appear in my brain over the coming few days, but here's the ones that readily come to mind :D

[doodlelots]

Headcanons for daan

I haven't done too much historical research so forgive me if some of this is culturally inaccurate. but here we go

He's underweight due to avoidance of food when stressed/moody. You can see his ribs a little. He generally has a bony, gaunt look to his body and skin. He used to eat better when with the baron.

Chronic smoking has his lips pale and cracked as well as eventually forming nicotine stains. He overall reeks of smoke too.

Has bad eye bags from irregular sleep and stress. He also itches/picks at the stitches around his missing eye when particularly wound up.

Has a bad slouch, but since he's been taught to have a straight back and polite posture as a butler, he snaps into position around others.

Because of Eihner and time spent in hoity-toity culture, he:

Can play piano. Was taught per recommendation from Eihner. He doesn't enjoy it and can only read music sheets, he can't improv it at all.

Is a decent cook due to butler work.

Loves to dance, he finds ballroom dances and waltz charming. He would dance with Elise a lot at home.

Is dexterous and precise, especially with his hands, due to medical training. Has nice, cursive handwriting.

Doesn't know how to drive due to using taxis all his adult life.

He still wears his wedding band from his marriage with Elise, even long after the festival is over. He also keeps a photo of her in his wallet.

He's considered getting a glass eye, but for guilt relating to Elise, he leaves the decision in the air and never thought about much.

He carries a cigarette tin, lighter, pocket mitror, comb, and wallet in most situations. He stores what he can in his inner/vest pockets so his pants pockets can be empty for his hands.

A genuine grin from him is slightly off putting. His canines are just pronounced enough to be of note but they aren't unnatural looking.

A bubble bath with a shot of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette wedged between his fingers is his favorite way to relax.

Familiar with many languages but is only really fluent in his home language (whatever funger equivalent there is to Dutch) and English (Rondish?). His accent is difficult to read due to picking up so many dialects growing up.

He always sleeps head to toe in pajamas (or whatever equivalent). Even socks.

He knows a bit about fashion and clothing design due to Elise's passion for it. But his judgement on what looks nice is skewed sometimes because he doesn't have a natural eye for it. He likes the look of stripes on argyle, for example.

He had a bit of a passion for medical work before the war, but after serving and his view of the baron soured, his interest diminished to finding it practical and nothing else. He has more passion for bartending than anything else now.

[stellarnightstalk]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞!

pt. 1

I think I took a little too long to upload

The smell of ink and paper enters your nostrils, the balled-up sheets scattered around your mattress as you keep writing in your journal, or, her journal.

To cure the boredom you've been attempting to write down ideas to get him to divorce you, but always end up with scribbled pages or the paper balls you have around you. You placed the bottom of the fountain pen on your pursed lips in thought, and started writing.

Idea number 14: Beg him so much to divorce you to the point he just feels pity and accepts.

Idea number 15: Murder him and keep the insurance mo— “Yeah, no.” You tear the page apart and crumple it into a ball. Standing up from the mattress, you walk to the fireplace that you have installed in your bedroom and toss the paper ball into the blaze. "Can't risk being framed for something I only thought of doing."

Two weeks have passed since the conversation you had with Cedric. The king's daughter had already made herself comfortable in the estate about a week ago. Ever since then, you've made it your mission to avoid any problems between the two protagonists.

But, in addition to the heroine living with you, ever since you asked for a divorce, he has taken the liberty of “not neglecting you” and has attempted to arrange that every single day the both of you meet up in the garden for some quality tea time. An hour, every day. Which made the whole situation more difficult than it had to be. So naturally you refused him, which in return made him bring you expensive jewelry and dresses every day, the room was practically piling up.

You felt yourself trip on a diamond necklace that you had forgotten you had thrown on the floor and you fell head first on the cold ground with a yelp. Speak of the devil. Standing up from the floor, you grabbed onto your forehead and hissed, “Shit, that burns.” You glared at the necklace below your feet, angrily clutching the expensive item and stomping toward a window. You unlocked it, flinging it across who knows where. “Stop sending me gifts that aren’t money!”

“Gah!” A startled yelp echoed. Peering outside, you caught a glimpse of a messenger boy rubbing the back of his head, then you quickly closed the window. “Oops,” It probably didn't hurt that much. You made your way to the bed and retrieved the journal, flipping to the very first page. There revealed handwriting that clearly wasn't yours, the cursive letters written neatly and precise, with each letter flowing smoothly into the next. The villainess used to write a lot in this journal, seems like she didn't have anyone to speak to. It’s mostly just angry banter, as you'd expect from a villainess.

A piece of paper peeked out from one of the pages, out of curiosity you pulled it out and were met with a small portrait of the villainess. She looked young, probably in her teens. Her face was serious, expressing how she obviously didn't want to be there. Quite adorable. You flipped the tiny image, checking if there was a date on the backside. Instead, there was writing.

You still hold the same expression to this day. Don't forget to write letters, I'm here if you ever need me. - With Love, I.A

"IA? What kind of code name is that?" If you remember correctly, the villainess never had any friends, so whoever wrote this letter is beyond your knowledge. Could this be a background character? It doesn't seem that important if he was acquainted with the villainess. But the words stuck with you—could you ask this person for help? They did say they're here if you ever need them. But you don't even know who they are. Did the villainess trust this stranger?

Someone knocked on your door gently. “Your Grace?” You quickly hid the journal under the bed, grabbing all the paper balls in your arms and throwing them into the furnace to dispose of them fast. Out of breath, you sat on the bed, “Um… Your Grace?” The person repeated and you cleared your throat. “Come in.” You straightened your posture, as if you had just woke up.

The door gently opened, revealing a young maid. She bowed, her light brown bangs were covering her eyes. You hadn’t been in this place for long, but you think you knew all the people that worked here. She was new, you were sure of it. But why does she look so familiar?

“Good evening, Your Grace. The Duke has sent me after you for tea time,” she said with a slight tremble. Gosh, of course. “Tell him I won’t be there.” You stood up, striding to a luxurious vanity next to your bed, you looked at the mirror and touched your face. You never get used to the face. Changing your stare to the maid you noticed her narrowing her eyes from your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, “I'm sure that won't be a problem.” She gripped the handle, “Well, um, the thing is—”

She opened the door completely, revealing a variety of boxes stacked on top of each other. “He instructed me that if you disagreed, to hand over all of these.” You deadpanned. Of course, he’d do the same shit. “Should I… Bring it in?” She asked nervously but you raised a hand, rubbing your temple with the other. “No, there’s no need.” You sighed, getting to your feet and walking towards her, “Take me to my husband.” You mentally cringed at your words. “Of course, Your Grace!” She made her way around the boxes and placed her hands in front of her, accompanying you to Cedric, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you recognized her.

“I have a question for you,” you started, making her slightly flinch at your words, ”What is your question, Your Grace?” She gulped, it looked like she was nervous. You're sure by that reaction that the rumors of the villainess had reached her ears, they all enjoy gossiping. “What is your name?”

“My name?” She tilted her head, confused by the sudden question but then she shook her head, terrified once more. “Apologies. My name is Edith,” She managed to stutter out.

Edith? That was the name of the villainess's most loyal maid. You examined her from top to bottom, earning a gulp from her. She was nothing like the novel described, she was squirmish and timid, while in the novel she was serious and brazen, which was the reason the villainess was interested in her. No wonder you didn't recognize her, she's a completely different character. But how?

“Which residence did you come from?” You decided to keep prying her with questions, if she was the villainess's most loyal servant you’d like to get her on your side. The correct answer on her part is that she came from a residence that the Duke conquered and that she was practically born to be a servant her whole life.

“I came with Her Highness, Your Grace.”

What? No, she didn't. You've read that novel like five times you practically have all the details memorized. There's no way in hell that she came with the princess, she still has the rights of a commoner. Since she hasn't been crowned, she didn't come with maids, she got appointed them after. Did you forget? Are you slowly losing your old memories, including the novel?

You bit your nails anxiously. One thing is for the course of the plot to be changed because of your actions since you reincarnated, but the land the Duke conquered was long before you came here. You couldn't have changed it because you weren't even there to alter it, it should have been like the story described it to be.

“Are you… Sure?” She looked at you perplexed, the question was dumb, and you knew that, but maybe she heard you wrong. “Um, yes, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat, “I'm positive I came with the princess, I was with her in the carriage on her way here.” You shouldn't have been!

“You two must be close for you to ride in the same carriage as her.” Deny, deny! You thought, instead she looked away sheepishly. “Well, me and Ann— I mean, the princess and I have been close since childhood.” Childhood? You don't have a childhood! Edith was born into work and didn't have time for friends, which was why she kept to herself.

This situation was worse than you had anticipated. Edith was a significant asset to the villainess, and you needed her to be by your side. You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped when you realized that you had arrived at your destination. The place you were in was a greenhouse that belonged to the Duke. It was beautiful from the outside, and you wouldn't be surprised if it was just as stunning on the inside. Cedric always spent his time here; it was his safe place, but he never let the villainess enter. What had changed now?

Edith opened the gates of the greenhouse and went inside, you followed suit, taking in the view. The flowers looked beautiful, it was apparent that they were being taken care of very well. As you looked around your eyes were met with Cedric, his signature serious expression on his face made you sigh in response. It looks like he didn't notice you were here yet.

“Duke Ironheart, the Duchess has arrived.” Said Edith, bowing with a slight tremble. His head turned to you quickly, you swore you heard a slight crack when he did. Cedric cleared his throat before speaking, “Good, you may leave us be. Stand outside with the others.” He said to Edith, which she in return quickly nodded and walked at a fast pace outside the greenhouse.

Before you could say anything, he spoke up, extending his hand at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

You gulped in an attempt to get rid of an anxious lump. “Right, of course.”

——➻

Grabbing the teacup in front of you, you sipped it carefully. As you did, an overwhelming taste of bitterness invaded your mouth, making you cough at the unexpected flavor as you placed the teacup down.

“This tea,” You began, clearing your throat, “is it a new blend? I've never tried it.” You looked at the male in front of you. “Is it not to your liking?”Cedric spoke.

“It’s a bit bitter but nothing I can’t handle.” You replied to the man, grabbing the teacup to sip from it once more. He stared at you and suddenly clasped the top of your teacup, slightly bumping his gloved knuckles into your nose. The hell?

“I reckoned you liked this kind of tea.” He took the tea from you and sipped it himself. His eye twitched. “My mistake. It appears that it is too bitter for the intended taste.” He glared beside him, making the maids flinch and look the other way, then he looked back at you. “Do not force yourself to drink something you dislike. Throw a tantrum as you did, or anything.” He declared sternly, which made it seem like he was ordering you to do it. He says that so easily but whenever the villainess threw tantrums he’d always put her on probation or give her the silent treatment.

“Take the tea away, fetch something less bitter.” He said to the maids without a look, pointing at your cups. They took it, eagerly nodding and going their merry way. You watched them leave the garden with a sigh, “Your Grace, I was just fine with the previous tea.” Your words came out with a twinge of irritation, he simply crossed his arms.

“You don't address me by my name anymore.” He said, changing the subject. “Is that a problem?” You feign innocence, tilting your head to display your confusion. A hum could be heard from him due to your response, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. The exchange ended there.

As you both sat beneath the shade of a weeping willow, the space between you two was now crammed with an uncomfortable silence. You tapped your finger on the table anxiously, looking towards the flowers on your left. Does the duke have a staring problem? You've been sensing his gaze ever since the maids left as if he's analyzing your soul or something.

"The flowers are in full bloom," you said, just to break the uncomfortable stillness. “It looks quite beautiful.” He hummed at your words, "You've noticed," he said with a subtle smile, which surprised you. "How could I not?" you chuckled, stopping when you felt his piercing gaze once more. "You weren't one to notice these kinds of things." Damn, you forgot about that. "I suppose I'm catching a glimpse of the more beautiful things in life." He gazed at the flowers and then at you. He stayed like that for a few seconds. "I suppose I am too," Cedric responded and you gave him an awkward smile, and once more, there was now uneasy silence.

As you glanced sideways, a cluster of vibrant daffodils caught your attention. You weren't lying when you said that the sight of the flowers was beautiful, especially against the environment of spring.

“The King is planning to hold a grand ball,” Cedric spoke up, choosing to break the silence, which came across as out of character for him. “Is that so?” You answered back with a hum, crossing your legs. “You will attend, of course. It would be unseemly for the Duchess to absent herself from such an important event.”

Right, the villainess was known for skipping out on balls that she thought held no interest for her. And when she did go, she’d always somehow be the center of attention, in considerably nasty ways.

Now that you recall, in the novel, the princess was exceptionally skilled and was able to learn etiquette at a fast pace, but since she was raised as a commoner she didn't know how to read or write, which caused her to stay for longer. Thus Cedric stepped in to help her, and she was able to learn quickly as well, which caught his attention more and made him develop deeper feelings of curiosity. Since the kingdom did not know yet of the princess's existence he decided to organize a ball to introduce his heir to the throne, which would also be her coming-of-age ceremony.

“Is there a specific reason for the decision?” You questioned him, seeking closure if your suspicions were correct. Your eagerness to continue the conversation appears to please him.

“The Princess has learned sufficiently.” He explained, earning a look from you, intrigued. He held a subtle smile when you did. “His Majesty has made the decision to ultimately make it known of his heir, it is also the Princess’s coming of age as well. He has sent us an invitation to attend.” So you were right. When he concluded his words, he handed you the invitation, which you snatched quickly. It held a golden lion engraved on its side, confirmation that it was sent from the royal household.

The grand ball exists as a monumental scene from the novel, that’s where the villainess tosses wine on the princess’s gown because Cedric asked her to dance instead of the villainess. When questioned, she cried out that the princess was a harlot who sought to steal her husband. Which resulted in Cedric lashing out at the villainess and taking the teary-eyed heroine to the royal garden. This is where they have a moment to exchange their feelings in silence, when the cold-hearted duke finally learns to trust another.

“When is it taking place?” You questioned, switching your stare from the invitation to him, placing the envelope on the table. “In three days.” He simply said, resting his cheek on his hand.

Your eyes widened, In three days? It’s only been a week. In that time the princess hasn't even learned how to read, let alone write. Cedric noticed your reluctance to speak, “Is that a problem?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. “No, not at all. Just a bit surprised is all.” “Why so surprised?” Why so many questions? You mentally scowled. “It’s only been a week since the princess has been staying in the dukedom, yet she's already leaving.”

It’s just too sudden, you don't think you're mentally prepared. Maybe you could call in sick? Knowing Cedric he’ll probably call a thousand physicians and when he finds out you were lying he’ll put you on probation in the same ways he did to the villainess, or even worse, execute you for daring to disrespect him.

“I am the one who recommended the king to do it as momentarily as possible.” So you can cut off my head sooner?! “May I ask why you suggested that?” You asked sincerely, holding the ball in two days means that the princess will leave earlier than intended. That's not supposed to happen.

Some really important scenes were supposed to happen before the ball. The random count who was trying to court the female lead hasn't been introduced, which means he hasn't had confusing feelings of jealousy yet. That's why he asked the princess for a dance at the ball instead of the villainess. Or the slip-and-catch trope where she slipped while walking and landed on his massive chest creating unresolved tension for 3 whole pages.

Could it be that the plot is moving on faster than intended? Or not even happening at all?

He gazed at you with a blank stare for a moment without uttering a word. His expression became murky as he crossed his arms and leaned his head back onto the chair. “No particular reason.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He questioned with a tilt of his head, his gaze boring into you. You deadpanned.

"What? No, of course not. Why would I be?" you replied bluntly. “It brings me joy that the princess has been able to learn quickly actually.” You smiled, “She must be a very clever lady.” Too clever, can't she slow it down a bit? You're trying to get you both a happy ending.

“You haven't met her, yet you are here praising her.” The furrowed eyebrows he had caught your attention. “Is there a problem with me complimenting the princess?” In the novel, Cedric is a very jealous man. But does he really feel jealous of another woman complimenting the female lead too? Weirdo.

“No, forget I said anything.” Gladly. And for the third time, again, silence. But it was for the better, you didn't want to speak for longer than you had to. This conversation was long enough for you to ignore him for about two weeks, it's draining to speak in such a royal matter, you always confuse your words.

But it made you anxious, the silence. Almost like he was scheming something, planning your execution right in front of you without your knowledge. What you would give just to have a look inside his mind, to know what he's pondering. Couldn't the villainess have powers? They debuffed her character just for the protagonist's plot armor.

Cedric was about to speak, but he was interrupted by the opening gates of the garden, which you assumed were the maids bringing out the newly brewed tea. "Thank you for the tea," You declared, making yourself more comfortable in the seat. "You're free to excuse yourself." You added, then changed your gaze to look at the person in front of you.

“Your Grace,” the maid bowed, her voice trembling slightly, a tray of tea resting in her hands. “Princess Annabeth has arrived. She has brewed you both some tea.”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you, the lady in front of you was in fact, a maid as you thought it had been, but she was accompanied by another. “Your Highness.” Spoke out Cedric, his stare now fully concentrated on the girl. “Good evening, Your Grace.” The young girl said with a radiant smile, the dimples on her cheek in full view. Her golden curls lay neatly on her face, confirming that she was the king's daughter since blonde hair was a sign of royal blood. Her emerald eyes looked directly at Cedric, and your eyes looked directly at her. The descriptions of her beauty in the novel were not exaggerated in the slightest.

Thump.

Grabbing onto your chest, you suddenly felt a familiar pang of jealousy. It was the same jealousy she had felt in the novel, shit. This must be the villainess's body reacting to her presence. You took a deep breath and tried to control yourself. This body had reactions that you couldn't control at all, when you reincarnated it didn't just come with her looks, it came with everything intact. Causing you to have out-of-control emotions, her emotions. This could be difficult to manage.

The female lead, Annabeth, was right in front of you, her hands behind her back. She looked like a young teenager, which made you remember that in the story she had just turned 18.

"I appreciate your help, Belda. You may excuse yourself," Annabeth said to the maid, whom you now know as Belda. “Of course.” She nodded, placing the tray on the table. Then made her way out of the room, closing the door with a bang, leaving the three of you alone. Cedric spoke up, not wasting a moment of silence.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were practicing your writing, as I had told you to do.” his words made Annabeth chuckle. You saw her tuck a curl behind her ear, placing her hands behind her back. “It’s my break time from practicing so that I can regain my focus,” She paused, slightly glancing at you. “In the meantime, I wanted for you two to try my new blend of tea.” She admitted, shifting her gaze from you to Cedric. Her eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I can leave.” Annabeth said as she exchanged stares with the both of you. Cedric instantly spoke up, “Yes, actu—” Getting to your feet, you left his words unfinished, “Of course not, would you like to join us?” He looked at you with widened eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. ”I'm sure the princess has more significant things to do than tea.” He said it to you, but he was probably directing it to the princess as well. Damn, this slow-burn novel is burning good, too good. Fall in love already!

“She brewed us some tea, it's only natural to let her try some with us. It's proper manners," Cedric clenched his jaw at your words and then sighed. "Fine, as you wish." He ran his hands across his hair with a huff, crossing his arms afterward. Well, that was quick. You didn't even have to repeat it. You sat back down in content and patted the space beside you. His eyes narrowed at your gloved hand. "Take a seat, Your Highness. It's big enough for both of us.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows, tightening her lips as she stared at the plush that lay below your hand. She looked as if she was lost in thought. “Your Highness?” You called out to her, which snapped her out of whatever thought she was in. “My apologies, yes, I'll sit. Thank you.” She gave a warm enigmatic smile. You squinted your eyes as a sudden radiant glow beamed around her. Damn, why is it so bright! She only just smiled!

“It’s no worries, no need to thank me.” You returned the smile, which resulted in a scoff from a neglected Cedric. Is he jealous or just annoyed? Maybe the plot is on its course after all, just differently.

“Allow me to serve you the tea I've brewed, my father sent me these tea leaves.” She said as she grabbed the teapot, standing up and pouring the tea for the three of you. Your cup being the last she poured. “I hope it’s to your liking.” She said with a smile directed at you. Cedric sneered and grabbed his cup, taking a sip, and so did you.

“Too sweet.” “It’s pretty good.” You and Cedric both looked at each other. It wasn’t a lie, the tea was good, just made your throat a bit itchy.

“I thought you weren't fawn of such sweet things.” He commented with a stern look, you gulped. “Change of heart?” You chuckle nervously. Damn, you forgot the villainess hated sweet things.

Annabeth covered her mouth and laughed, “Guess I put too much lemon verbena.” Cedric's eyes widen and he snatches your cup, throwing it on the ground. It shatters from the impact. You both look at him in shock and he slams his hands on the table, glaring at Annabeth. “What’s wrong, Your Grace?” She asked with furrowed brows, fidgeting with her hands.

“Are you trying to kill my wife?” Annabeth’s eyes widen and she looks at you, and then at him. “Wh-What do you mean? I would nev—” “Don’t lie to me!” He cuts her off, standing up abruptly, making her flinch.

“Cedric!” You called out, standing up and putting your hand in front of the princess, blocking her from him. He stares at you and raises his eyebrow, you see him gulp. “What do you mean kill me?” “How could you not—” He stops himself, staring at Annabeth and then at you. He grabs your wrist and with no word drags you out of the garden, leaving Annabeth behind. You try to object but to no avail. You look back for a split second to see the princess teary-eyed, and then the gates closed.

“Your Grace!” You call out to him, pulling your arm back from him, you two are already far from the garden. He turns around, “We need to get the doctor, quit resisting!” You cleared your throat, the itchiness of your throat was getting worse.

“Doctor? Why would I need a doct—” Before you finished, you suddenly got a pounding headache, making you wince and trip towards Cedric's chest. Now that you realize it, ever since you drank that tea you have been having difficulty breathing. You wheezed, your throat suddenly feeling much tighter than before. He grabbed your shoulders and you vaguely heard him yell something to the maids who were positioned outside. Resulting in them running to your side with terrified glances.

Your vision was getting blurry and you were sweating bullets. The hands that were on your shoulder gripped harder, making you wince. Your eyes were starting to get watery and itchy, you decided to close them to ease the pain for a bit.

And then there was silence.

from, your admirer

tags: @ohnoivefallen @julietdelamare @scotchhopin

credits:

neutral heart + star divider made by @cafekitsune

[mercury-viennazu]

My good omens hot take is that I absolutely LOATHE Aziraphale’s cursive handwriting. It’s waaaay too round and solid and clear for my liking. Absolutely not loopy, sharp, and flowy at all, it does not give me the impression of someone who’s only ever really written in cursive, it gives me the impression of someone who’s kinda trying it out and is still stuck on the “do it like the practice sheets” phase. Aziraphale, baby, you don’t have to press down hard all the time please start writing flowy cursive 🙏

[a-kookie-with-my-tae]

Befallen: Chapter 3

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: none, really.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your patience with me. I'm so happy to finally getting this out after having to completely rewrite this chapter from scratch. Bear with me as I try to get these chapters out as soon as I can. Thank you!

Masterlist

Aesthete: a person who has or affects to have a special appreciation of art and beauty.

I tap my pen against the wooden desk as I focus on the sheets in front of me. The words written on the page are a little sloppy, their connotation that of a newcomer to lyricism. But, the meaning in them shows through no matter the novice technique in which their written. I cross out a line and rewrite the words, not changing the meaning behind them but allowing the line to blend harmoniously with the rest of the verse. 

Jimin stopped by the studio first thing before practice, the notebook sitting on the floor from where he slid it under the door before rushing to meet the other members. I smiled when I saw it. I should've known better than to expect anything other than the fact that he would stay up writing. After our conversation yesterday, he seemed too inspired to do anything but that. 

I will admit, although the wording isn't as eloquent as an experienced lyricist, Jimin's handwriting is that of a scholar. Next to his, my hangul looks like chicken scratch, something a kindergartner would write. Then again, I am newer to writing in the language, still stumbling when I even speak it. But, I have improved drastically in the half year past. His writing is more like the Korean version of cursive, his hands used to the language from years of experience as his letters blend together beautifully. While I am mainly writing the English version, as it's my first language, he decided that he wanted to take the lead with the Korean version. When he proposed the idea, I visibly sighed in relief. Usually when writing for the other artists in the company, some of the other producers tend to take the lead on the lyrics since I am a novice when it comes to the Korean language, but versed enough to help Jimin with editing his. 

My heart breaks a little at the words on the page. His fear of losing those close to him shows through as I read them. His sad, almost desperate, connotation bleed through the pages even through his crossed lines as he rewrote the lyrics over and over. I can't wait to show him what I've done with it, the song already playing through my head in a constant loop. I can already imagine how great it will sound with his soft and breathy vocals. 

A knock on the door brings my out of my little bubble. I turn toward the entrance of my studio, curious to see who could be here. Jimin's practice isn't set to be finished for another hour or so. 

But, nevertheless, it is still him that stands in the doorway. 

"What are you doing here so early?" I ask, curious as to how he is here at the moment. He's never been known to cut practice of any kind, if anything he stays later working past when everyone else leaves. 

"Let's just say.... there was some tension. So, Joon-hyung decided to end it early today." He says with a slight smirk on his face. I don't know how, but for some reason I feel as if I'm the reason for the so-called tension that he speaks of. 

"Do I even want to know?" I cross my arms and lean back in my chair as I question him.

"Probably not." He shrugs his shoulders and walks further into the room, coming to stand beside me and look at the notebook sitting on the desk behind me. 

"Alright then, I'm not even gonna ask." I swivel my chair around to face the desk once again, watching Jimin's face as he reads the words on the page, examining my rewrites with the utmost focus and attention. 

"Wow... I thought my lyrics were good. But.... damn." He turns his head to meet my eyes. "You've really got some talent, Y/N." 

My cheeks flush at the compliment, not used to being recognized for it. I avoid his eyes as I look back toward the notebook. 

"It's nothing, I just reported it a little bit to better match the rhythm of the song. This way, the meter of the stanza will match the beat a lot better. But, Jimin, you did amazing. What you wrote here... just..." I look at the man standing beside me. "Wow." 

He flushes at my words, his hand coming to rub the nape of his neck as he straightens his spine. "I just felt kind of inspired, I guess."

He smiles shyly at me as I grin at him. I fake punch him lightly in the shoulder, lightening the mood. "Hey, give yourself some credit. You did good. Own it."

He laughs lightly, loosening up a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

"No, say it!" I persist. "Say 'I did an awesome job at writing these lyrics and I am oh so very talented'." 

He scrunches his face in a mic of amusement and awkwardness as he tries to laugh off my words.

"Whatever. So can we go to the recording booth? Try this out?" He asks, waving me off. 

I let it go, deciding that I've proven my point enough to not push it any further. "Yeah, let me just put the track on the flash drive real quick and we can head over."

While working on his lyrics, I was able to finish the backing track. His words inspired me and helped me find the finishing touches I really needed. All that's left is to finish writing the lyrics, record it, and mix it all together. 

I click my mouse as I drag the file over to the drive, preparing to transport it to the recording booth that a lot of the other producers and I share. Although I have my own studio and microphone for recording backing vocals, for the artists we like to have the best recording set up. I pull the drive from my computer and grab the notebook, standing from my chair as I turn toward Jimin. 

"You ready?" I ask, knowing that his nerves are high at the moment, the anxiety of recording the raw emotion in which these lyrics are written showing on his face. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." 

I wrap my arm around his as we march out of my studio and down the hall.

"Watch me go, soak me all night long, away... So the morning gets drunk and never comes."

Jimin's soft vocals ring throughout the studio as I stare at him in awe. Seeing the words on paper is nothing compared to hearing them in such a mellifluous way. He peels off the headset and places it around his neck, a smile shining on his face as his eyes sparkle. 

"How was that?" He asks me through the microphone. I press the button on the desk so he can hear my response in the speakers throughout the inside of the recording booth. 

"Jiminie, that was amazing! First take, wow. Let's keep going and finish up the rest of the pre-chorus and then we'll take a break." My cheeks hurt from how big I've been smiling for the past hour. After doing some minor rewrites after we arrived and settling on exactly how we wanted to vocal lines to sound, we finally started recording. I rewind the track a few seconds, Jimin's previously recorded vocals playing through as he secures his headset back on and closes his eyes in concentration. 

"I fade away in the loud music, I'm getting used to the cliché story like a drama. I'm getting used to it. Have I come too far to find the me you used to know? Yeah I know, you know, I know..." 

Jimin never ceases to amaze me. Although he has a beautiful deep chest voice, he prefers to sing in the higher tones. That fact fits beautifully with this song. But, maybe one day I can convince him to showcase more of his lower vocals. The proud smile I wear never leaves as he looks at me with excitement, his eyes forming crescents so slivered I wonder how he even sees what's in front of him. 

He sets his headset on the small table next to the microphone, his half empty water bottle sitting next to it. I look back toward the screen to start the playback of what all we've recorded thus far as I hear the door to the recording booth open and shut softly, near-silent but quick footsteps near me as Jimin rushes to see the screen. 

We haven't yet added the whispers in the beginning, so the track still feels a little empty as it starts. But as soon as the vocals come in, it feels complete. A weight lifts off my shoulders at the sound, a relieved sigh leaving me as my chest feels light. I close my eyes as I smile, letting out a breathy laugh. 

"She's saying 'Baby, don't think about it. There's not a bad thing here tonight. Baby, it's fine if you have to leave, but stay with me just for today.'"

We listen for the next minute or so and I pause it right before the chorus comes in. 

"Oh my God! Jimin!" I jump up and throw my arms dramatically around him, causing him to almost loose balance and brace a hand against the desk to keep standing. He laughs as he regains his balance and wraps his arms around my waist. We stay like that for a little while, rocking slightly back in forth as we bask in the feeling of accomplishment. 

I lean slightly and place my hands on his reddened cheeks, forcing him to make eye contact with me.

"I'm so proud of you! That sounds amazing!" Jimin looks down bashfully at my words, but the smile grows on his face, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Thanks... You did most of the work, though."

I smile fondly at my best friend. 

"Jimin, don't discredit yourself. I just helped you bring your vision to life, and you're doing the same for me." He looks back up and meets my eyes once again. "I'm so glad that I shared this with you. This is coming out better than I could've imagined."

We stay like that for a few moments more before a knock breaks the moment. We look at the doorway simultaneously. 

"Am I interrupting something?" The silky smooth voice carries throughout the room, his words making my cheeks flush. His strong brows are pushed together into an expression I can't really put my finger on. Confusion, disgust, anger... jealousy? No, it can't be. 

Nonetheless, Jimin lets go of his hold on me at the presence of his bandmate, taking a step back to put some space between us. 

"We just finished up recording a good chunk of the song." Jimin explains. "I'm actually really proud of it."

Jungkook's face softens as his brows shoot up, disappearing under the black bucket hat on his head, the rings on the brim clinking together as he tilts his head and leans against the doorway. 

"Really? I didn't even know you were working on something new." His eyes dart over to me momentarily before moving back to Jimin. "What is it?"

I clear my throat before I speak up for him. "That song that I was working on when you came into my studio yesterday. I showed it to Jimin and he marked his claim on it the second it started playing." I laugh lightly as I avert my eyes over to my best friend, pride shining all throughout my features. "He wrote lyrics for it overnight, and we've been putting it together since your practice ended."

Jungkook smiles wide as he walks over to Jimin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's amazing, hyung! I can't wait to hear it." 

"Thanks, Kook. I can't wait either." His eye crescents come back as he smiles mischievously. "But, you gotta wait until it's done. No spoilers!"

The bunny man pouts at his elder. "That's mean. But, fine. I was coming in here to record some stuff I'm working on, but I'll wait until you guys finish up. I didn't know that anyone was in here today." He pulls out a flashdrive from his pocket, holding it up to prove his intentions. 

"That's fine. We were just finishing up anyway. I just gotta make sure everything saves over then we can get out of your hair." I turn back toward the computer, leaning over the desk to move everything back over to my portable drive. A few seconds later and I unplug it, turning back toward the two men.

They seem to be having a secret conversation, whispering over in the corner of the room, too quiet for me to hear. Jungkook makes eye contact with me and I crease my brows in confusion. His eyes widen and he clears his throat, cutting off whatever Jimin was saying. 

"Where are you guys off to?" He asks, turning his gaze back toward Jimin.

"The dance studio. Wanna blow off some steam before we go and get ready for recording later."

Jimin walks back over to me, placing his elbow on my shoulder and showcasing the slight height difference. Honestly, this man is just so proud that he's 3 inches taller than me and uses every opportunity to show it off. Then again, being surrounded by giants all day probably doesn't help his height complex. 

"Oh, you dance?" Jungkook directs the question back at me. 

"Yeah... I used to study contemporary back in the States. Sometimes it nice to just... let go. You know?" I shuffle uncomfortably at the admission. He seems perplexed as he takes in the information, seemingly hooked on every new detail he can learn about me. 

"Anyway," I silently thank Jimin for breaking the tension "we are heading out. Good luck on whatever you're working on, Kookie!"

He all but pushes me out of the room, hands pressing against my shoulders in a rush to leave to recording studio. As we exit the room, I glance back over my shoulder, only to find a doe eyed Jungkook staring. We make eye contact one final time before we turn to go down the corridor, a red flush creeping on his cheeks. 

Jimin moves so that he's no longer pushing, but walking alongside me. I glance over at him only to see him wearing a knowing smile as he glances back. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything. 

As we turn into the next hallway, I hear the soft sound of a symphony staring to ring from the room we just left. And for once, I let myself smile about the boy with the bunny teeth responsible for it. 

[catastrophesandcures]

|| A Heavy Name || Throne of Glass One-Shot ||

(Where: the new Heir of Terrasen struggles with cursive G’s, the eyes of people long gone, and holding up her mother’s name)

Adele, Age 8

Adele Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius wishes for a shorter name. Her hand cramps, fingers occasionally spasming, as she signs her name over and over and over, over, over…

She works to perfect her handwriting, to get accustomed to the long loops and scrolls. She’s sometimes taken to signing with a simple AAWG, but Uncle Darrow, the old badger, says princesses of Terrasen wield their powerful names. 

What the sword won’t do, the name can. 

Adele glares over her shoulder to the portrait of Uncle Darrow that hangs beside old king Orlon. Adele shakes her practice sheet at Uncle Darrow’s stern, always watching picture as if to say, See? I’m not cutting corners! 

Adele peaks at Orlon, then. For some reason, she’s always afraid to fully look the painting in the eye. Beside him, Grandfather Rhoe. Then, Grandmother Evalin. She looks like Mama, but younger. She has the same eyes as Mama, maybe softer, less…wild. Adele looks away from Grandmother Evalin too, not able to think about Mama not having a mama. She stops looking at what she calls the Big Pictures–faces of the dead–and moves her gaze to the smaller frames along the hearth’s shelf, to the pocket sized portrait of her younger brother, Arryn. He’d just cut his own hair, and the golden strands spiked in different directions. Adele giggles. He looks awful, and the squiggle of a mustache she’d drawn over his lip has yet to be noticed. 

Uncle Darrow seems to frown down at her, then. She can hear him telling her to get back to work. Adele rolls her green eyes, but practices and practices until her handwriting is perfect. She must be perfect. Not just a princess of Terrasen, but Heir of Aelin Firebringer. Heir of so many people. There are so many eyes, waiting and watching. 

Adele messes up her G, again. She always messes up the G of Galathynius. She starts a new line, from her first name, and goes and goes, her little hand straining to hold the quill, straining to make it to the end. 

She loops the G in the wrong direction. 

“Rutting G!” 

Adele likes to curse when she’s alone, and she spits the word Uncle Aedion taught her again and again. Her chest heaves and she pants, tearing the paper in half, shredding it to pieces, and splits them until she holds confetti. 

Until she holds burning paper in too small hands. Ashes fall between her fingers, her palms unable to keep all that she holds, all that she burns. 

She doesn’t often cry. Adele is a princess, Heir of Fire–she is strong. 

But, she weeps. The blooming flame in her hands rutting scares her. She can’t put it out. She shakes her hands. She blows, but her breath is shallow and shaking. 

Adele screams. Screams at her hands, at the fire, at the G’s she turned to ash and stomped beneath her feet. Her handheld fire blooms and grows. “Rutting stop!” Adele screams at her open, unburnt palms. 

And then cool, soft but calloused hands, close over hers. Water meets her fire until there’s no more smoke, but steam. They are the most familiar hands in the world. Scarred and calloused; nimble, long fingers prone to playing a haughty tune on the pianoforte. Cool to the touch. Patient. They keep holding Adele’s, hers sweaty and clammy. 

Adele doesn’t look up. Her chin dips to her chest as tears roll down her face, her nose. 

Fingers catch her tears–cool, calloused, familiar. “Why do you cry, Fireheart?”

Adele sobs at the name. Exhausted, head splitting, she relinquishes to her mother’s embrace and nestles into the space between chin and breast. The safest place in the world, as if Mama’s body had been carved to fit Adele’s. 

“Because,” Adele hiccups, “I’m not perfect.” Another hitch of uneven breath, then, “And it makes me feel lost.”

Mama grips Adele, tight and warm. She smells like the embers of a home’s hearth, like jasmine and wind. Adele presses her nose to her mother’s skin, clinging to the comfort. 

When Mama pulls away just slightly, just enough so that their eyes meet, Adele looks away. Mama has none of it. Her palm cups Adele’s cheek, bringing them face to face. Turquoise and gold meet pine green. Soft meets sorrow. Mother sees daughter. 

“Perfect,” Mama’s warm, fiery tone says, “can go to rutting hell.” 

A knowing gleam shines in Mama’s eyes, perking the corner of mouth. Adele laughs nervously, but Mama laughs with her, hands still holding Adele’s flaming face from the crying. And the magic. 

Mama’s finger tilts Adele’s chin up again, and this time Adele really looks at her. She wonders if she looks like her, or if Adele takes more after her father. Her cousins tease her that she’s too serious. A courtier from Mellisande had once pinched her cheeks and told her to smile more. Has anyone ever dared pinch the cheeks of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius? Adele holds the ends of her mother’s long, gold hair in a fist and wonders if she’ll wear that queenly, beautiful face one day. If she’ll carry grace and mischief as well as Aelin of the Wildfire. Adele knows the stories–well, just some. Just the ones from the shelves she could reach. Which, Adele knows, are the least interesting shelves in the Library of Orynth. She’ll have to start climbing to the higher, dustier shelves where the real stories are waiting for her. There’s a book up high that has Mama’s name on the spine. It ripples with red and gold and blue, as if a living flame wraps the pages. Another book beside it, The Walking Dead, doesn’t sound nearly as interesting as the one about her own mother. 

Mama raises her brows slightly and looks down her lashes at Adele–a look she knows means to listen, and listen good. She’s the prettiest lady in the whole wide world. 

“If I cared about being perfect,” Mama says softly, and a moment passes where her eyes cloud, as if she’d gone very far away. Adele doesn’t know what to call that look, that distance in her mother’s eyes, but she feels it. “I wouldn’t be me. And I,” her mother quirks a conspirator’s brow at Adele, the light in her eyes shining once more, “am rutting wonderful.”

Adele laughs again. 

Her mother leans down to wiggle their noses together. “You are wonderful, my girl. No matter what you do, to whatever end, I will be the voice that never lets you forget it. I want nothing from you, Fireheart, other than to be completely yourself.”

“What if I’m not like you?” 

Mama props Adele onto her feet so that she stands. Mama kneels before her, and Adele wonders if anyone in the world has ever seen Aelin on her knees. Adele knows she’s just a child, that there are things she doesn’t know, but she cannot imagine it–her mother, the strongest, most powerful person to ever exist, who Adele worships like a god–on her knees. But, Mama does kneel. Now, before Adele. Though she only meets the top of her mother’s head, Adele wonders if she’ll ever stand as tall as her. 

“Then I’ll be glad for it.” Mama’s eyes flash and she almost looks like an animal from Oakwald with the intensity seeping through her, like fire taken skin. “Be yourself. Let yourself discover who that is. You do not belong in my shadow, Fireheart. You are the torch I carry.” 

Mama catches a rogue tear, and something ripples across the surface of her face. Adele has only ever seen her mother cry at the birth of her brothers and baby sister, but she almost does now. Her eyes, the same as Grandmother Evalin and Arryn’s, mist. 

“I was your age when…” Mama trails off, distant again, lost in thought as her gaze roams every inch of Adele, as if memorizing her, as if remembering something. 

A breeze passes through the study though no windows are open. It smells like winter and Yulemas, and Adele instantly perks. She feels joy in her chest, a spark of belonging and home. Mama’s eyes flutter in that same joy Adele must be feeling. 

Mama continues, having found the strength she needs, and says, “I was your age when a lot of people made me feel like I was wretched and horrible. The world hated me for a long, long time.” Mama smirks. “Someone always will.”

Adele balks at the idea of anyone even remotely disliking her mother, but Mama nods as if to say it’s the truth. “Let no one ever, ever make you feel that way. Not even me. No, you’re not perfect. You are my daughter.” Mama combs her fingers through Adele’s hair. “Which means, you’re bound to be misunderstood, to make mistakes. You are my daughter, which means, you’re bound to always get up again.” 

They lean their brows together, and Mama whispers, just for Adele, “You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Then, louder, “And you can tell your nosy, nursemaid father I said that.” 

A deep chuckle sounds from the far ends of the study. Another winter wind that reminds Adele of all her favorite memories drifts to them. It combs through her hair, and Adele can feel Papa’s phantom hands, bigger than her head, bigger than any problem or tear.

Mama squeaks, jolting as if something had pinched her, and laughs as she throws a glare towards where Papa still lingers in the dark somewhere. 

Before they get up to join him, her mother pulls her into one more tight embrace. Her arms are solid and muscled, and they hold Adele like precious jewels. 

Mama whispers, “We carry a heavy name. Bear it however the rutt you want.” She leans back, eyes shining. “Now, let’s discuss your copious use of curse words.” 

Adele shrieks, running away. 

[vigilskeep]

What are Arthur and Minerva’s grimoires like?

minerva’s was originally a simple standard issue circle grimoire, a small leatherbound red book with the gold chantry insignia. i imagine all apprentices receive the same, with the option to upgrade to something more personalised once you’ve passed your harrowing and are worth spending unique resources on, but minerva was recruited so soon after hers that never got the chance. it became increasingly unwieldy to fill with her absurd number of new and generally illegal spells, and it’s a messy contrast of her neat, no-nonsense, increasingly small handwriting and every scrap of parchment that’s been bound into it by a mixture of stitching, magic and force of will

she hates the idea of replacing it, complaining it would be a waste of time to write it all out again, but truly unable to admit what’s most precious to her—irving’s careful notes, jowan’s childish doodles, an encouraging remark from karl, amell’s quick barely legible first floor library tomorrow fourth bell i have a new theory you will despise, a dry disdainful scrawl from morrigan on shapeshifting, anders’ advice on her single heal spell that scribbles a rendering of ser pounce-a-lot over wynne’s sharp cursive, and a few rough sheets of velanna copying out some of her spells to practise writing before she tries recording her dalish stories, offering spiky commentary as she does so. even the pages where minerva first began to work out the battlemage specialisation, which i hc she invented. for all her lauded pragmatism you can pry this old grimoire from her cold dead hands. it does get a shiny new blue and silver grey warden binding when it finally threatens to fall apart though

arthur did make it past apprentice, but even before that he had his grimoire, a white book emblazoned with the trevelyan family crest and motto. it was one of his last birthday gifts from his father. his handwriting is much less neat than minerva’s, an irrepressible fault from a poor mixture of trained cursive and impatience, which plagues him to no end when he tries to help lilith with her studies. the white isn’t the most practical for life as an apostate, he admits, and it does happen to have a smear of mud here and there, not to mention a stab through it from a templar’s blade with a little of his blood to boot, but he can’t throw the poor scuffed thing away just because it saved his life, can he? he’s pretty sure none of it is the blood he used for blood magic. and it’s basically still readable. vivienne despairs of him

[radiantcircle-if]

Hey just saw the first character pages?, our brother to be precise and i noticed that the text again says he is a talented earth sorcerer , but his magic should be water no?, am i mistaken?

Also i do have a question, since there seems to be a lot set, in appearance as well as special character traitsof the mc, now i do understand that mc is not some white sheet but does has a backstory etc., it just feels a bit limiting in terms of variation and how we can imagine our mcs appearance.

As an example, take our eyebrows or nose, why do we need to have big ones(yes both), what if we can imagine our mc just with a smaller nose, espessially if we take genetics into the whole ordeal, like maybe we got a nose type thats more on the smaller side.

Also our handwriting, is it because we naturally write like that, or because it was tought to us that way, cause i honestly couldn't ever imagine one of my mcs having a good and cursive handwriting.

Anyways maybe i am overthinking sh*t again, but thats just my subjective opinion, please do not feel pressured into changing anything, it is your story after all. Looking forward to the demo.

hi anon!! thank you so much for catching that. fixed it 💜

for the mc's appearance, i didn't put any pictures for the mc so you can imagine whatever you'd like 😳 my intention was to outline some family similarity in terms of comparison only. it's relative; all of us have a nose that's a little on the wide and flat side compared to someone else. please imagine your mc however you'd like!

handwriting! i wouldn't call it good cursive, but it is cursive! i love your question. the mc wasn't taught to write like this; it's a product of seeing the handwriting of a journalist as a teenager and then practicing to have "journalist handwriting." it was definitely not your natural handwriting, but it is at this point 🙃🙃🙃

[applesforhela]

I moved between second and third grade, and while the school where I attended second grade started teaching cursive in third grade, my new school started cursive in second grade. So I had to catch up as fast as I could. My teacher gave me extra practice sheets, and I copied lines from story books at home. At school we were required to use cursive through eighth grade, but I moved again when I stared high school and pretty much stopped using it then for a long time.

But it's served me well. I've done a bit of work transcribing old letters from the 1800s that were of course all in cursive, and I can read my mom's sometimes crazy cursive handwriting. I like writing in cursive when I'm writing for myself, but still use print for a lot of stuff, and even when I'm writing print some of my letters tend to connect.

Meanwhile, my husband never learned cursive. We got some old stuff from his dad a while back including some old handwritten stuff, all in cursive. Some of it was rather sloppy, but one page was beautiful, tidy writing. I could read it as easily as if it had been typed. My husband looked at it and said he couldn't read it. Because cursive. Baffled me.

Reblog this if you had to learn cursive writing as a child

If you were ever told or were made to learn cursive writing when you were in grade school. I wanna see how many of you suffered like I did.

[whatiscalligraphy]

Minuscule And Majuscule Training: Master Both Scripts

Minuscule And Majuscule Training: Achieving Mastery in Both Calligraphy Scripts

Are you interested in improving your handwriting skills? Do you have a passion for calligraphy and letterform education? Look no further! In this article, we will explore the art of minuscule and majuscule training, offering insights into the world of handwriting and calligraphy classes. Learning to write with precision and elegance is a journey that requires dedication and practice. Whether you are a beginner or an experienced calligrapher, mastering both minuscule and majuscule scripts can enhance your skills and open up new artistic possibilities. Key Takeaways: - Minuscule and majuscule training can enhance your handwriting skills and open up new artistic possibilities. - Blackletter script, also known as gothic or Old English script, is a popular style of calligraphy with a rich history dating back to the 11th century. - Using the right tools and materials, such as broad-edged writing utensils and guide sheets, is crucial for mastering blackletter calligraphy. - Humanistic script emerged in the late 14th century as a more legible alternative to Gothic script, influenced by prominent Italian scholars. - The development of Humanistic script was also influenced by notaries like Coluccio Salutati, Niccolò Niccoli, and Poggio Bracciolini.

The History of Blackletter Script

Blackletter script, also known as gothic or Old English script, has a fascinating history that dates back to the 11th century in Northern Europe. Inspired by the intricate architecture of gothic cathedrals, this script was initially used by bishops and missionaries for the translation of religious texts. The term "Old English" is sometimes associated with blackletter script, although it has been disproven that this script was actually used during the Old English period. There are four main styles of blackletter script: Textura, Rotunda, Bastarda, and Fraktur. These styles developed and evolved over time, spreading throughout Europe and becoming widely used for various purposes, including legal documents, official correspondence, and even as a decorative element in manuscripts. To get a visual sense of the history and evolution of blackletter script, take a look at the following table: Style Description Example Textura A dense and closely spaced script with vertical emphasis. Rotunda A more rounded and flowing style, often used for headings and titles. Bastarda A hybrid style with elements of both Textura and Rotunda, characterized by its slanted and cursive appearance. Fraktur A highly decorative and ornamental style, often used for printed material in Germany.

As you can see, each style has its own unique characteristics and visual appeal. Exploring the history of blackletter script can provide valuable insights into the development of calligraphy and the cultural significance of this unique script.

Tools and Materials for Blackletter Calligraphy

When learning blackletter calligraphy, it is important to use the right tools and materials to achieve the desired results. Here are some essential items you will need: - Broad-edged writing utensils: A broad-edged writing utensil is crucial for creating thick and thin lines, which are characteristic of blackletter calligraphy. One highly recommended tool is the Pilot Parallel pen, known for its versatility, ease of use, and affordability. It comes in different nib sizes, allowing you to experiment with various line widths. - Guide sheets: Guide sheets with a 2:4:2 ratio can help you maintain consistent letterform execution. These sheets provide guidelines to follow while practicing your blackletter calligraphy. You can either print guide sheets or create them yourself using a ruler and a pen. Additionally, you will need ink and paper suitable for calligraphy. Basic ink can be used on most types of paper, but to avoid bleeding and feathering, it is recommended to use thicker paper like bristol or mixed media marker pads. With these tools and materials, you can begin your journey into the beautiful world of blackletter calligraphy. Practice regularly, experiment with different techniques, and soon you will be creating stunning minuscule and majuscule letterforms.

Getting Started with Blackletter Calligraphy

Learning blackletter calligraphy can be a rewarding journey, but it's natural to feel overwhelmed when you first start. The key is to begin practicing and building your skills gradually. To get started with blackletter calligraphy, focus on learning two drastically different alphabets: minuscule and majuscule. This will help you develop your pen skills and gain an understanding of the unique characteristics of each blackletter style. When practicing blackletter calligraphy, it's important to hold your pen at a 40º to 50º angle. This angle allows for better control and helps achieve the distinct thick and thin lines characteristic of blackletter. Start by practicing basic strokes, such as diamonds and downstrokes, to familiarize yourself with the letterforms. Remember, learning blackletter calligraphy is a skill that requires dedicated practice. Set aside regular practice sessions, experiment with different letterforms, and don't be afraid to make mistakes. With time and patience, you'll develop your own unique style and master the art of blackletter calligraphy.

The Emergence of Humanistic Script

The emergence of Humanistic script can be traced back to the late 14th century when readers faced difficulties with the convoluted and demanding Gothic script. Prominent Italian scholars like Petrarch and Coluccio Salutati expressed their desire for manuscripts to be written in a clear and legible script. This led to the development of the Humanistic script, which was easier to read and became popular among Humanists who had an interest in classical texts and literature. One of the main reasons behind the emergence of Humanistic script was the need for improved legibility. Gothic script, with its dense, elaborate letterforms, posed challenges for readers. Scholars like Petrarch believed that manuscripts should be written in a more accessible script that resembled the ancient Roman scripts. This desire for clarity and legibility paved the way for the development of the Humanistic script. The Humanistic script became known for its clear, open letterforms that were inspired by the ancient Roman scripts. It was characterized by rounded strokes, balanced proportions, and a more upright posture compared to the slanted and intricate Gothic script. The Humanistic script gained popularity among scholars and readers who found it easier to read and appreciated its aesthetic qualities. In conclusion, the emergence of the Humanistic script in the late 14th century was a response to the need for a more legible and accessible script. It was embraced by scholars and readers who sought clarity and a connection to the ancient Roman scripts. The Humanistic script marked a significant shift in calligraphic styles and set the stage for further developments in handwriting and typography.

The Role of Notaries in the Development of Humanistic Script

Notaries played a significant role in the development of the Humanistic script, contributing to its evolution and spread. These skilled scribes, often associated with the Roman Catholic Church, had access to various scripts through their work, allowing them to influence the development of new writing styles. Personalities like Coluccio Salutati, Niccolò Niccoli, and Poggio Bracciolini, who were notaries themselves, played crucial roles in shaping the Humanistic script. Their expertise and exposure to different scripts allowed them to contribute to the advancement of this elegant and legible writing style. By studying and practicing different scripts, notaries like Salutati, Niccoli, and Bracciolini were able to incorporate elements from various traditions into the Humanistic script. Their efforts helped refine and popularize this script, making it a preferred choice for scholars, writers, and members of the Roman Catholic Church. The Influence of Notaries on the Humanistic Script Notaries played a crucial role in the development of the Humanistic script, contributing their skills as scribes and their knowledge of various scripts. Their ability to adapt and innovate helped shape the elegant and legible writing style that is still admired today. Notaries Contributions to Script Development Coluccio Salutati Adapted writing style to manuscripts, experimented with mixing Gothic and Humanistic elements Niccolò Niccoli Reproduced exact styles of manuscripts, advocated for different scripts for different types of texts Poggio Bracciolini Studied majuscule and minuscule forms, trained other scribes, contributed to the script's spread

The Influence of Coluccio Salutati on Humanistic Script

Coluccio Salutati, an influential Italian scholar of the 14th century, played a crucial role in the development of the Humanistic script. His innovative approach to writing and his script-mixing experiments left a lasting impact on the evolution of calligraphy. "The art of writing is the noblest of all arts," Salutati once said, and he lived by those words. He had a deep appreciation for the beauty and power of the written word, and he believed that different scripts could be combined to create even more visually striking texts. Salutati's habit of adapting his writing style to the script found in manuscripts, particularly the Carolingian script, led to the experimentation and mixing of Gothic and Humanistic elements. By combining the bold strokes of Gothic with the refined elegance of Humanistic, he created a unique and captivating script that captured the attention of scholars and scribes alike. Salutati's influence extended beyond his own writings. His prominence and contact with other figures like Niccolò Niccoli and Poggio Bracciolini further fueled the development of the Humanistic script. Together, they pushed the boundaries of calligraphy and paved the way for a new era of handwriting. Coluccio Salutati's Contributions to Humanistic Script Script-Mixing Experiments Adapting writing style to manuscripts Gothic and Humanistic script fusion Influence on other scholars Pushing the boundaries of calligraphy Development of a captivating script Paving the way for a new era of handwriting Coluccio Salutati, with his script-mixing experiments, brought a fresh perspective to calligraphy and left an indelible mark on the development of the Humanistic script.

The Influence of Niccolò Niccoli on Humanistic Script

Niccolò Niccoli, a 14th-century Italian scholar and connoisseur of Latin, played a significant role in the development of the Humanistic script. His expertise in both cursive and book-hand styles allowed him to reproduce the exact style of manuscripts he owned. Niccoli believed that different scripts were suitable for different types of texts, advocating for a script similar to Carolingian for ancient Latin texts. His influence on the Humanistic script is evident in his emphasis on legibility and attention to detail. Niccoli's dedication to replicating ancient manuscripts and his belief in the importance of script variation shaped the development of the Humanistic script. His recognition of the relationship between script and content paved the way for future scholars to explore the stylistic possibilities within calligraphy. Niccolò Niccoli's contributions to the Humanistic script demonstrate his commitment to preserving the beauty and authenticity of written communication. The Versatility of Niccolò Niccoli Niccolò Niccoli's mastery of both cursive and book-hand styles showcased his versatility as a calligrapher. His ability to write in different scripts allowed him to adapt to the specific needs of various texts. By employing a script similar to Carolingian for ancient Latin texts, Niccoli demonstrated his understanding of the connection between script and content. His work exemplifies the importance of considering the historical and contextual factors when choosing a script. "Different types of texts require different scripts. A Roman text should evoke the grandeur of the Roman script, while an ancient Latin text deserves the elegance of Carolingian. The script should always complement the content." - Niccolò Niccoli Niccolò Niccoli's dedication to script variation and his belief that scripts should harmonize with the content left a lasting impact on the development of the Humanistic script. His innovative approach continues to inspire calligraphers, reminding them of the importance of context and legibility in their craft. Contributions of Niccolò Niccoli to Humanistic Script Niccolò Niccoli's Legacy Advocated for script variation based on content Inspired future calligraphers to consider the context of their work Reproduced the exact style of manuscripts he owned Emphasized the importance of authenticity in calligraphy Showcased versatility through mastery of cursive and book-hand styles Demonstrated the importance of adapting scripts to specific texts

The Role of Poggio Bracciolini in the Development of Humanistic Script

Poggio Bracciolini, an Italian notary and scholar of the 15th century, played a pivotal role in the development of the Humanistic script. As a skilled scribe, Bracciolini had the opportunity to study various scripts during his travels across European capitals. His exposure to different writing styles, including the Carolingian script, allowed him to explore and experiment with both majuscule and minuscule forms, contributing to the evolution of the Humanistic script. "The development of new scripts requires not only mastery of existing styles but also a creative approach to combining and adapting them. Poggio Bracciolini's talent as a scribe and his dedication to studying different scripts played a significant role in the development of the Humanistic script," Furthermore, Bracciolini's ability to train other scribes played a crucial role in spreading the influence of the Humanistic script. Through his teaching and guidance, he shared his knowledge and techniques, allowing others to refine their calligraphic skills and contribute to the script's further development. As a result, the Humanistic script gained popularity and became widely adopted during the Renaissance period. Bracciolini's contribution to the development of the Humanistic script is a testament to the importance of skilled scribes in shaping the evolution of writing systems. His talent, dedication, and influence laid the foundation for the script's continued growth and legacy. The Impact of Poggio Bracciolini's Travels Bracciolini's extensive travels across Europe exposed him to various script traditions, allowing him to study and analyze different writing styles. His encounters with Byzantine, Gothic, and Carolingian scripts, among others, provided invaluable insights into the aesthetic and functional aspects of each script. By combining elements from these different traditions, Bracciolini contributed to the creation of a new and distinct script that became known as the Humanistic script. Script Traditions Characteristics Byzantine Flourishing and intricate letterforms Gothic Elaborate and ornate script with pronounced flourishing Carolingian Clear, legible, and geometrically proportioned letterforms Humanistic A unique synthesis of characteristics from Byzantine, Gothic, and Carolingian scripts, resulting in an elegant and readable script Bracciolini's travels not only expanded his knowledge of different scripts but also allowed him to connect and exchange ideas with other scholars and scribes. These connections and conversations further fueled the development and spread of the Humanistic script, solidifying its place as a prominent writing style during the Renaissance.

Society's Role in the Development of Humanistic Script

The development and adoption of the Humanistic script were not limited to scholarly circles but were embraced by society as well. One significant institution that quickly adopted the script was the Roman Catholic Church. Even Pope Eugenius IV introduced a similar script called "cancelleresca corsiva" for minor documents. The Church's adoption of the Humanistic script helped spread its use and influence among clerics and religious scholars. However, it wasn't just institutions that played a role in the development of the Humanistic script. Prominent figures in the book industry, such as Vespasiano da Bisticci, also contributed to its spread. Vespasiano da Bisticci was a renowned bookseller in Renaissance Florence. He accommodated orders from all over Europe, including manuscripts written in the Humanistic script. His work as a bookseller and his connections with scholars and scribes furthered the popularity and dissemination of the script. "The Humanistic script's embrace by the Roman Catholic Church and its support from influential figures like Vespasiano da Bisticci played a crucial role in its development and eventual widespread use." Table: Influence of Society on the Development of Humanistic Script Contributors Influence Roman Catholic Church Adopted the script and introduced a similar script for minor documents Vespasiano da Bisticci Accommodated orders for manuscripts written in the Humanistic script, spreading its use across Europe The development and widespread adoption of the Humanistic script demonstrate how influential societal institutions and individuals can shape the trajectory of written communication. The script's acceptance by the Roman Catholic Church and the efforts of figures like Vespasiano da Bisticci contributed to its enduring legacy, making it an important chapter in the history of calligraphy and handwriting.

Conclusion

Congratulations on completing your journey through minuscule and majuscule training! By mastering both scripts, such as blackletter and Humanistic script, you have unlocked a world of creative possibilities for your handwriting. Throughout this article, we have explored the historical origins and stylistic variations of these scripts, as well as provided practical tips and recommendations on tools and techniques. With dedicated practice, you can refine your lettering skills and elevate your penmanship to new heights. Whether you choose the intricate beauty of blackletter or the legible elegance of Humanistic script, both styles offer unique and captivating ways to express yourself through the written word. Remember, calligraphy is a journey of continuous improvement. Embrace the artistry of script variations and explore new techniques as you further develop your skills. With every stroke, you bring life and personality to your writing, turning it into a true work of art. So, keep practicing, stay inspired, and let your creativity flow!

FAQ

What is blackletter script? Read the full article

[mironcalligraphy]

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[ismafatima]

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[advaitamelearning]

📣 High Quality Printable 4-in-1 Cursive writing practice worksheets.

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https://youtu.be/x522kSs3A90