#feel kinda bad all i do is do sketches instead of full colored pieces but you know what? as long as i get my thoughts out

[havockingboo]

Just a bunch of doodles of ocs interacting with the monkey wrench booooys because yes

[sebbytrash]

Through His Eyes - Part Twenty (The End)

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Warnings -  The end. 

A/N - Gah. I’m literally at a loss for words. This is almost 3 years in the making. My life has changed drastically since I started this. (I’m a mom, yikes.)  I can’t thank you enough for all the wonderful support on this one. It was truly a piece of my heart in words. So yes, the end is here and it’s a little bitter sweet but I might visit these two again one day. I hope this is everything you have been waiting for. <3

HUGE thank you to my other half @manawhaat for her exceptional Betaing as always

Through His Eyes Masterlist

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky asks, not for the first time, glancing worriedly down at your forearm.

“The surest.” You reassure him, fix him with your best full wattage smile and roll your sleeve up the rest of the way. The skin tingles in anticipation, or dread, and your heart thumps readily in your chest. It’s time, it says with each beat. 

At your nod, the needle descends and the first painful line of change begins. Bucky shudders at the noise and keeps his eyes on yours, or more accurately, keeps them anywhere but on that needle.

“You know, for an Avenger, you sure are squeamish,” you joke, grab his hand and give it a squeeze when he doesn’t smile back. “It’s just a tattoo, Bucky. Barely even registers.” The tattoo artist catches your eye with a soft smile and you roll your eyes in a playful isn’t-my-boyfriend-cute kinda way. Boyfriend, yeah, it still feels weird to think it, let alone say it. Truthfully, the word doesn’t even come close to what he is to you. The word simply doesn’t exist. 

“I know, I know,” the boyfriend in question says, “I just hate the look of it, s’all.” His mouth twists in that way that tells you he's still concerned and is probably going to be the entire time so you should just let him. 

This moment was a long time coming. You had thought and thought about getting your scars covered, these ones in particular that made wearing short sleeves a nightmare unless you wanted to flash an unintentional Nazi neon to anyone in a 2 metre radius. At first, you held on to them as a reminder, something to keep your heart cold and cruel, and then you held onto them as a shield, something to keep you from growing and forgetting, to keep you from leaving that part of you behind and finding out what was left without it. Now, you ache to transform, to strip away the last of the darkness and move forward with the growing light. That light that Bucky has shined into your life with that stubborn heart and those same unrelenting eyes that warily watch you close this chapter of your life. It will always be with you, be a part of you, but you no longer want it to be you. 

The tattoo itself, flowers chosen for their meaning, would now flow up your forearm with a soft wind replacing the haphazardly cruel branding you endured. Daffodils, meaning rebirth or new beginnings, and Irises for hope. Steve and Wanda had helped you with the design, the former brushing off his old drawing skills to do so and Tony had acquired the artist. Lee, a tall, severe looking man with the softest smile you’d ever seen on someone with a shaved head and ear gauges. He was kind and funny, and everything you needed to put yourself entirely in his hands with this precious piece of your history. 

It takes roughly four hours and Bucky is tense for every single minute of them. Lee spends half his time smirking at you when Bucky starts pacing again or sighs a little too deeply, his intense discomfort is nothing short of hilarious in the end. The finished piece is breathtaking, Lee has taken Steve’s sketch and created something so incredible, you feel the breath forcibly taken from your lungs and words from your mouth. 

“Wow. It’s perfect, Lee.” You stare at it unblinking before glancing at him. “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He nods with quiet understanding and busies himself tidying his workstation. You turn to Bucky, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and you try haplessly to blink them away, a few escape and Bucky steps up close to catch them with his thumb. His eyes reflect yours, and you wonder if it feels as significant to him as it does to you, looking at your arm and seeing that journey etched in colour, bright and beautiful and on display. 

Bucky lets out a breath so large, it’s like he's held it the entire day. "It's beautiful," he says, after a long minute, "It's you." 

It's still dark when you are catapulted from sleep, your sweet dreams stolen from underneath you in a swift movement just like the blanket so often is by your bedmate. It takes a second for the sound to match what you see, for you put the pieces of your reality together like a puzzle. He's dreaming again, Bucky, a bad one from the sounds being torn from his throat.

He's rigid beside you, muscles and ligaments all turned to stone despite his obvious turmoil. You suspect that it's a part of him that holds on to a sliver of reality, that fights to ensure he doesn't harm you, even now, when he's asleep. It doesn't shock you to discover that even unconscious, he's the best man you know. 

"No. Stop. I can't." He says and the words curdle in the air. You wondered if this would happen, after today and his reaction to the tattoo. His need to protect you runs bone deep and so it’s impossible to run from the dreams on the days he considers you hurt, or hurting. 

You smooth a hand over his face, gently and coaxing, "Shhh, Bucky. I'm right here. I'm with you, I'm safe." The magic words, you'd discovered, were less about his own safety and more about yours. Buttery promises that melt right through the brickhouse dream and pull him back to you. 

He wakes slowly, blinks up at you with those sea storm eyes, rides the crest of a wave in between realities and then blinks again and lets the waters crease and slow, settle into a soft hum. You place a kiss to his brow and leave to grab him a glass of water, giving him a minute to settle so that he isn’t forced to look at you before he’s ready. When you return he's sitting up against the headboard with his body tilted like he's waiting for you to slot right in. He downs the whole glass quickly and then grants you a smile, the smile, the one that makes electricity wake up in the morning. 

"Do you need anything?" You ask, like you always do, letting your fingers lace with his.

"Just you," he answers, pulls you gently to him so he can tuck your head under his chin and his fingers slot against your ribs, let's his breathing slow to match yours and his heartbeat to follow suit. 

It's what you do for each other, when the need arises. Just quiet understanding and quiet support. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, you no longer feel like it's going to strip the skin from your bones or send you plunging into the dark. Now it feels like stitching a wound shut, or rubbing an aching muscle, leaning on each other in a truly honest way despite everything, or maybe because of everything, and it's...nice. There’s not a single part of you that you have to hide from him, or him from you, and that feeling is measureless. There were stars living inside your chest, burning furious and bright, a sunshine heart and a moonlit soul. 

You stay that way long after sleep steals you both back, tangled limbs and tangled scars, and tangled hearts. 

In the morning, his tired eyes are not weary, as they once might have been after such a night. Instead, they hold a promise of a smile inside, the saltwater seas are waveless. His smile comes easily, harbouring a quiet joy he has not yet shared and so you're helpless, swept away in it as his lips take your reason captive. He stops to look at you and you look back at this resilient, gentle man who didn’t try to hide or reconcile all the complex truths inside himself, just simply existed exactly as he was.

“What’s got your face looking like that?” You ask, letting your fingers slide along his jaw in a lazy, familiar way. 

“Just realised somethin’” He smiles like he has the answer to a question you forgot to ask, continues when you raise your brows at him, “Bob isn’t sharing the bed anymore.”

Oh. 

It’s true, you’d finally found yourself ready to put your gun into an actual gun safe and not within 2 metres of you at all times. Since the great revelation, as you so often thought of it as, you’d taken Sam up on his offer to join him down at the VA for the group sessions, finally unburdening yourself in a more controlled and productive way, taking your own small steps to recovery. It’s not a journey, the voice of Sam scolds, it’s a state of being. One you need to work on every day. 

You make a noise of agreement. “Yeah. Didn’t really need him there anymore.” You admit, press a quick kiss to his lips and say, “Besides, they would need to get through you first. That’s why you sleep closest to the door.” 

He laughs and smiles sheepishly, the admission dies on his tongue when you hush it with yours, the curve of his mouth when it smiles simply too tempting not to taste. 

“There you go,” Wanda says as she zips your dress. “You’re ready.”

And you were ready. It was a date, a real date in a real restaurant with real people around you. You and Bucky had lived inside a bubble, protected and cosy, all bed covers and armchairs, netflix and books. He decided, or was reminded, that there were other ways to spend his time with you and tonight was to be the first. The first official date. It was exciting, and nerve wracking, and you tried not to hang your fate against the success of one night. 

“Yeah,” you agree, let the hum of unreleased adrenaline settle over your bones in anticipation, “I’m ready.”

You're halfway to the door when you stop, sudden, and hastily turn back to your dresser, rummaging around with abandon until you find it. You gasp in triumph, clutch the glass bottle in hand and show it to Wanda. 

“I haven’t worn it yet,” you explain when she casts you a confused glance. “I guess I was saving it.” 

Hope. The scent you’d purchased all those months ago when Bucky had first arrived, when you’d felt the very first flutterings of it within your chest before you even recognised what it was. It feels apt to wear it tonight when all that hope has become reality. 

“Hmm, well now does seem perfect, right?” She looks at you that way she sometimes does when her face turns into a mirror for your own feelings. It still makes you blink a few times, even now, when the feelings are joyful. 

When you make it to the door this time, you hesitate, hand gripping the cold handle long enough for Wanda to softly clear her throat. She doesn’t ask, but then again she probably already knows. It’s been a while since you’ve worn anything this nice, the dress is really nothing fancy, it’s flattering and comfortable, but still entirely different to your usual workout clothes and lounge wear that Bucky usually sees you in. It still makes your hands clench and your heart flutter with nerves, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of feeling self-conscious. The same man has seen your very soul, after all. 

He’s waiting for you with Steve, his back to you as you approach and so you have a few sweet seconds to admire the sturdiness of his shoulders in the shirt, how the fabric stretches and clings to his broad back and thick arms. Steve smiles when he sees you coming, gives Bucky a nudge and then watches him turn to you with barely contained glee.

When Bucky finally sees you, he looks at you with such fierce want, and love, that you nearly buckle at the sight of it. He smiles the smile that carves roots in your bones and stars in your heart. It’s only when you draw closer that you see your own eyes reflected in his, see yourself looking at him the way he’s looking at you. 

“You look beautiful.” He says, quietly and just for you. 

“Thank you.” You finally tear your eyes from his long enough to do a leisurely sweep of him, taking in that shirt and dress pants combo that somehow looks like it was how he looked all along, made for it. “You do, too.” 

He laughs, like you intended, reaches out to clasp your hand in his without thought and those two actions combined are threatening to let too much of that feeling leak out of your chest, the one that reminds you that you need him too much, love him too much. It’s still terrifying, this kind of love. 

You hate it. You don’t. 

The restaurant is small, a quiet but cosy kinda place that has more candles than menus and serves things called “Mom’s soup special”. Its soft lighting combines spectacularly with the coved tables, each individual one a private getaway that’s filled with fluttering lashes and toothy smiles. Bucky ushers you forward and tucks your seat behind you as you sit, the gesture all too natural for him and not all like the forced way you’ve witnessed so many people do it before. 

“This place is amazing,” you say, still glancing around with wonder hanging off your eyelashes, “how did you find it?”

“Oh, uh, Sam suggested it, actually.” He admits, tucks his chin a little before adding, “Haven’t actually been out to eat since, you know, melting.”

You blink at him stupidly, eyebrows gathering up into a frown. “But, didn’t you live in Europe? And Wakanda?”

“Yeah. Romania. Well, I was on the run so it was mostly tins of beans and whatever fruit I could find,” he explains, nothing of the painful memories showing on his face, even if they show on yours, “Wakanda was different. I spent a lot of time in the lab, and when I wasn’t, I didn’t exactly socialise. I wasn’t what you would call, fit for the public eye.” 

You reach across the table to take his hand in yours, try not to squeeze it as tight as your chest is squeezing your heart. “I’m glad you're here,” you say, still marvelling at the ease at which he now opens up to you, how these things don’t drag you both down into the dark. “I’m glad I get to share this with you.” 

He smiles, soft and pleased, “There’s no one I’d rather share it with, sweetheart.” 

The pet name, or perhaps the casualness in the way he says it, makes your heart stumble in your chest. Once, a gesture like that would have felt entirely foreign to you, probably even a little pointless, but when it rolls off his tongue with such tenderness you find yourself with sudden understanding that no amount of Hollywood movies could ever show you. 

If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t say anything. The rest of the meal is spent with easy laughter and enthusiastic eating, the staff leave you mostly alone but you catch more than one with a small, knowing smile on their face when they do approach. Caught in the feeling between you, your happiness that bubbles over and spills into every passing person so that their smiles mirror your own. 

You had spent so long denying yourself, and Bucky, these feelings that the now freely given love is pouring, uncontainable, from you both with such force that you can barely stand it. All that effort that went into holding back, denying, did not transfer because in truth, loving Bucky was no effort at all. 

You share a dessert, Bucky coming round the table to join you in what was surely just an excuse to be close, arm draped along the back of your chair, touching from knee to hip. You lean into him, letting his body heat soak into yours and his metal fingers dance along your shoulder. It’s quietly euphoric, and you know he feels it, too.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this.” You admit, turning so you can see his eyes when the words take shape, watching as those seas rumble against your meaning.

“Me neither.” He admits right back, turning to look at you the way he so often does, captures your mouth in a kiss, a lifetime's worth of affection hidden in the curve of his mouth. 

You didn’t believe in soulmates, not really, but as you lay back against his chest and feel his heartbeat on your back, feel the way the beats of his match the beats of yours so precisely, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might. 

Or perhaps, Fate saw the damage you’d both done to each other and decided to forcibly fuse those souls together. That those matching scars would fit perfectly together and prevent you both from spilling out onto any of her other plans or people.

As someone once said, “May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, whispers I love you in your ear and you think that you don’t care if it’s soul mates or fated or not. You know that you’d choose him every time. A fate selected by your own hand, or heart, and worth far more than dreams of paths forged for you.

 TAGS:  @manawhaat @theashhole @captainrogerss @higherfurtherfasterbby  @peculiar-persephone  @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @samingtonwilson @vintagevalentinexx @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart   @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv   @angelicthor   @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787    @sexyvixen7 @jobean12-blog  @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbakers @earinafae  @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith  @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @notsoprettykitty @wickedwerewolf   @tatalopes23 @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @standing-onthe-edge @ruinerofcheese  @mysweetcookie99

[catzula]

Smile For Me

AN: thank you to the anon who requested Artist Shinsou, it was a really cute idea! I'm sorry for writing the requests really late too but here's a 5.6k fic lol I'm sorry, it's not edited btw cause I'm at holiday and dont know how to write fics on mobile I literally can't :(

Warnings: nope

Genre: fluff

Pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader

It was a cold day.

You had a sweatshirt on, nothing too thick. The wind was blowing like it was trying to wipe you out the earth. You hugged your body tighter, trying to find some warmth.

The school had let you off early this day since a heavy rain was expected. The logical thing was to go home and do your preparations, but you didn't want to go home just yet, so you had decided to meet one of your friends. You decided you could wait at a park that was near where you were, hoping to find a small Cafe to at least drink something hot, but to your disappointment, nothing similar to what you had in mind was to be seen.

You sighed as you sat on a free bench. You texted your friend to tell her you were sitting at the park, groaning when she told you she was probably going to be late. You leaned forward to take your book out of your bag, trying to forget the cold wind that was sending chills down your body. You wrapped your scarf tighter to your neck, hugging your body with your arms.

You weren't aware of the boy sitting a few meters away from you, a notepad and a pencil in his hands, watching everyone.

***

Shinsou was in a bad mood. He needed to draw something for his art class, but he just couldn't find anything that piqued his interest. He could always draw the baby that was crying in the sand pool, or his mother that was blowing cool air from her mouth to soothe the small wound that was caused from the sand, but none of them looked interesting enough for him to go through and finish a whole piece of art. Maybe the flower standing there could be a reference but-

He sighed. He hadn't slept last night, looking for something to draw. He usually slept very late, but not sleeping at all was a whole new level. His pencil moved over his notepad, though he wasn't drawing anything specific. Shinsou looked at the girl that was sitting on the bench, probably about to freeze to death. People were wearing gloves and winter coats while you only had a sweatshirt and a deep red scarf on. Your eyes fixed on the book you held, your face relaxed, a cute smile now on your lips.

As his eyes wandered over you, he didn't notice his hand starting to outline your figure.

You were lost in your book. You didn't even notice the cold anymore, only when the wind blew your pages did you curse under your breath. When you finished the chapter you were reading, you felt your back hurting and you opened your arms, stretching your body.

Only then did your eyes catch a glimpse of the unruly hair, purple locks defying the gravity in an odd way. He didn't notice you staring at him, he was too concentrated on what was in front of him. He looked like he was drawing something, his eyes, which were the same color as his hair, were fixed on the paper, brows furrowed.

You looked away because if you didn't, he probably would have thought you were a creep, though you could feel your eyes gazing his way every once in a while. You snapped out of your thoughts and just when you were about to keep reading your book, you felt something jump on your lap, making you shriek in surprise.

It was a black cat on your lap, nuzzling its face to you, it sat right on your book as if it was trying to get you to stop reading. You giggled as you pet it, a big smile on your face. You always felt special when cats did this, it felt like you were chosen by some greater good.

You didn't notice the boy across you was watching you as you spoke and giggled to the cat. One of his brows quirked up as he smirked slightly, a girl talking to a cat-like so wasn't something he saw every day.

But maybe it was just what he needed to see.

You were smiling brightly as you talked to the cat, one of the prettiest smiles Shinsou had ever seen. Without taking his eyes off of you, he tried to copy this scene in front of him to the paper.

He was so focused on what he was doing, he didn't even realize you were shivering. He felt like he had seen you before, though he didn't want to waste his time trying to figure out where he had seen you, instead, he was trying to draw that smile of yours, though he just couldn't draw it the way he wanted to.

He just had to see your smile one more time.

But when he lifted his gaze from your sketch to look at you and the cat, you were nowhere to be seen. He stood up without thinking, looking around frantically. He started to run when he saw a glimpse of your deep-red scarf, not even thinking about what to say when he reached you.

When he caught up -he was heaving and his cheeks were red from running- he touched your arm, not sure of what to say. " 'Scuse me."

A deep voice called out, touching your arm slightly. You jumped with surprise but smiled sweetly when you saw it was the guy from the park, the one who was drawing.

"Oh, um, hi." You told him, your smile making his heart beat faster, even though he literally ran with all his might just now. "Did you need something?" You asked, watching him as his hand scratched the back of his neck, moving in his place uncomfortably.

"I- uh, I do need something." He too you as he held his pencil so right, his knuckles turned white. He was never an extroverted person, and what he was doing now was a big blow on his social anxiety.

"Do you have time? I would like to ask you something."

Was this boy asking you out or something? And why did he look so familiar? You could swear you'd seen him quite a lot before, though not really knowing where from. "I'm waiting for my friend, actually. So I have time till she shoves up."

Shinsou was not expecting a positive answer. How was he even supposed to ask you to model for him? Would that be too creepy?

You walked in silence, back to the bench you were sitting at. You were starting to get anxious as he eyed you every once in a while, not saying a word. "I- I'm an art major." He finally started, pulling when you didn't say anything. "I have my finals coming up and I have to draw someone... I saw you talking to the cat just now and I-"

"You saw that?!" You exclaimed, cheeks getting heated as you looked at him wide-eyed. "I- uh, I did. But you see, I think it was really nice and I kinda- actually, let me show you."

Wow, this was going bad, wasn't it?

He held his breath as he opened the notepad in his hands, opening the unfinished sketch he just drew- of you. You gasped as you saw the beautiful drawing, not even acknowledging for a moment that it was you who was smiling and petting a cat, so detailed and so pretty.

"Did you do this now?" You asked him, touching the paper so softly, as it would crumble under your touch with the smallest amount of pressure.

"I did. But I kinda need you to stay a little longer to finish it, I know this is a weird request, but I really need to finish it... So, what do you say? Could you stay a bit longer, not much, just till I finish it?" Your eyes followed his hand as he ran his finger through those purple, soft-looking locks, making you wonder how it would feel like under your hands.

"Wait, you actually want me to model for you?" You asked him, brows borrowing with confusion and disbelief. "Is that weird?" He asked you, a hopeful look in his tired-looking eyes.

"No, I- I mean yes!" Oh, damn, you were awkward. "What I'm trying to say is-" you started, a little calmer, trying to answer with a full sentence this time, "It is very unusual, but probably not as weird as me talking to a cat."

He chuckled at that, a rich sound making your heartbeat a little faster. "Yeah, probably not."

"So does that mean, yes? Will you model for me?" You shrugged as you giggled. "Sure, why not."

He smiled, relief washing over him. "Thank you so much, I can't even tell you how much this helps." He was taking his notepad out but stopped as he saw you trembling like a leaf. "Oh, here." He shook his jacket off his shoulders, handing it to you.

"I can't take this." You told him, wishing you could, "It's yours and it's really cold." Plus, it was your fault you didn't bring a jacket with you and he shouldn't be cold because of your irresponsibleness. "Just take it." He said gruffly, "I'm making you stay here so it's only fair if you took this."

Now that was a solid argument. You accepted the jacket he offered -why did it smell so good? Like soap and a bit like lavender?- and smiled gratefully. "Thank you for that." He shrugged to say it was nothing.

***

Hanging out with Shinsou was better than you had expected. He was such a chill guy, so calm and smart, he didn't talk much but when he did his quick, smart remarks making you admire him a lot.

Even though he had told you it wouldn't take long, the sun was already setting when he was giving the drawing it's last details, though both if you didn't mind it at all. It was supposed to be a quick sketch, all he had to do was to draw the outlines and then he could go on without you, but he just couldn't tell that to you, afraid you'll leave.

He was having fun, too much fun, to let you go. He never thought having a chat with some stranger -who talked to cats, too- would turn out to be so fun. And you were nice. So nice that he felt like he could tell you anything, and you wouldn't judge him, which was a feeling foreign to him.

As he scribbled the last pieces of shadings -he knew he was just adding useless details now- he felt a weird weight in his chest. He didn't want you to go, wanted you to stay with him, and talk even more. He was a quiet guy, in contrast to you -you talked a lot of he was going, to be honest, but he thought of it as adorable and even though it was mostly you talking and him listening, it was obvious both of you liked the presence of each other.

At some time, your friend had canceled, telling you she couldn't make it and she was really sorry, but it hadn't bothered you the least. In reality, you were glad you got to spend more time with him.

You gave him your scarf at one point, and he looked so cute, his face wrapped with a deep red scarf, the color matching his cheeks.

"It's really pretty." You told him, caressing the paper with your finger. "It's you who makes it pretty." He answered, causing your cheeks to heat up.

"I don't know how to answer that." You finally told him after a long silence. Your blunt answer made him giggle, once again scratching his neck, making your heart flutter.

"It was really nice to meet you." You let out, sad that you have to go, and that you'll probably never see him again. "It was really nice to meet you too, and you have no idea how much this helped." He answered though he looked like he wanted to say something else.

"Maybe I'll see you around, you know if you ever come here again." He mumbled, eyes looking at yours awaiting. "Sure." You smiled brightly, happy that you weren't the only one that wanted to meet again. You looked at the sweatshirt you were wearing, the one that belonged to him and was too big for you. "I should give this back."

But instead of taking it, he shook his head. "It's still very cold. You can give it to me the next time we see each other." You smiled, the idea of having some kind of excuse to see him again making your heart hammer your chest. "Then you should keep my scarf too, and I'll have it back when I give you your sweatshirt back."

He smiled too, touching the scarf like it was made of gold. You stood up, your legs sore from sitting for so long. "I should go now, it's getting pretty late." You told him as you looked at the drawing he did one last time. It really was pretty.

"Yeah, I guess." He really shouldn't have felt this bad. "See you around?"

"Yeah, promise you'll have your sweatshirt back." You giggled and turned your back, making your way back to your home, an odd feeling finding it's way to your heart.

Shinsou watched you leave, the same feeling you were experiencing, sending shivers down his spine.

***

It had been a week since you saw Shinsou. And oddly enough you missed him.

You could visit the park only once since that day, disappointed that he wasn't there. You weren't really sure if he had ever visited the park too, wondering if he had thought of you as often as you thought of him.

He probably didn't, and you were making a fool of yourself, but you just couldn't stop, couldn't make the thought of him just go away, though his smell from his sweatshirt was already going away.

You sighed, not being able to focus on your lesson. When the bell finally rang, you stood up, stretching your body as you saw your friend coming next to you. "Hey, what's up-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" She screamed- asked, earning glares from other people in the class. "How could you hide this from me?" Her hands were on your shoulders, shaking you with every word that left her lips.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, confused.

"Oh, come on, don't play dumb now." She told you, though still not saying anything that has the slightest bit of explanation.

"I literally have no idea what you're referring to." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she eyed you suspiciously. "Wait, " her eyes widened when she realized you meant what you said. "You really don't know?"

"Nope." You answered.

"Oh my God." She started giggling, making you a little scared of what was happening. "Are you going to tell me now?"

"No way." She answered between her giggles. "I'll show it to you instead." Now, if that wasn't the most suspicious thing you've heard, you didn't know what was. "I'd really rather you tell me." You told her, though you knew she wouldn't tell you even if you begged on your knees. "Oh come on." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "You know I would never tell you. Just wait for a little and see for yourself."

You sighed but didn't say anything, knowing it wouldn't be anything other than wasting your breath. "Okay, whatever. Show it to me." You sighed.

She grinned as she tugged at your wrists, pulling you in a direction. You let her lead you for at least 15 minutes, you had left the campus, entering the main campus, and then the art gallery.

You knew the art majors were exhibiting their finals projects in here, though you never really had the time to come and look at them. "What are we doing here?" You asked her, but she ignored your question, leading your way in the halls of the maze-like halls of the gallery.

And then she suddenly stopped, making you lose your balance by doing so. "Why did we-" you choked on your words as you lifted your gaze up, looking at the piece of art on the wall.

It was a charcoal drawing, a big one at that. Black and white had so many tones between them, shading was so professional, so detailed and so beautiful, it was like the art was alive, you could swear you might see it moving if you looked closely. But it wasn't the beauty of the art that had you in shock, it was what was on it.

You.

You were in the painting. Talking to a cat.

You knew this drawing, you knew it very well, that was because you had spent every second of the last week, thinking about the artist who drew it.

You turned to your friend, who was watching you with a knowing smirk. "You have to be kidding me." You mumbled. He was at your school? How was that even... Was that why he looked so familiar?

"How is this... Wh- Who did this?" You asked, finally able to say a whole sentence. Her nose scrunched in confusion. "You mean you don't know?"

You shook your head.

"It's Shinsou Hitoshi from 2-A." She answered. "I thought you knew him."

"I do know him." You told her. "But I didn't know- I didn't know we were in the same school, or that he was a grade older than me. I didn't even know he was..." You gulped. "I need to go." You told her, leaving her with many questions to be answered.

"Wait, where are you going?!" She screamed after you.

***

You were running, though you hadn't even stopped to think for a second. What were you even going to tell him when you found him?

Hey, it's me, the girl you drew as an art project? The girl talking to a cat? We met a week ago, I still have your sweatshirt, might be nice to have my scarf back too. You remember me, right?

Yeah, probably wouldn't work out, would it? You decided it was the best to go with the flow -it really isn't- and didn't stop to even think for a second.

You entered the art building, feeling the eyes of the students on you, though you weren't sure if it was because you looked like you were running for your dear life, or maybe it was because you were the girl on the art that obviously everyone saw.

You didn't care about the looks they were sending at you and ran until you stood in front of the door you were looking for.

2/A.

Now that you were finally able to stop and breathe, and actually think about what you were doing, you thought maybe this wasn't a really good idea. You had no idea what to say, you weren't sure if it would actually go with the flow either, and you just didn't know how he would react.

But most of all, you were a little disappointed that you haven't seen him that one the time you visited the park. Did he even ever visit? Yes, maybe you only visited once, but he wasn't there, was he? And maybe it was just dumb to expect anything from-

"Oh, hi!" You heard a girl's voice from behind you. It was a brunette girl who was looking at you with a wide smile, her brown eyes the biggest pair of eyes you had ever seen and she had the sweetest face. "Hi, I was looking for-" You mumbled back, feeling shy, but couldn't even finish your sentence.

"Oh my God, 'Chako isn't that the girl?!" Another girl came running towards you, a big smile and wide eyes on her face as she shouted at the girl talking to you. She had a pink-tinted face, like she was blushing constantly, but it looked cute nevertheless. The brunette nodded like they were sharing some big secret, though the secret was more than necessary at this point.

"You're looking for Hitoshi, right?" The pinkish faced girl asked, her hands holding yours as she jumped in her place.

"Well, I- uhh, I was looking for Shinsou." You told her and she giggled when you couldn't call him by his first name. "Oh my God, you're too cute! I'm Mina, by the way, " she informed you as she tugged you from your wrists to the class. "Come on, he's in here."

When you entered the class, more like pushed from the back by Mina, you lost your balance slightly, recovering quickly. You cod feel everyone looking at you, wondering who you were or why you were here. Though a few of them looked like they knew what was going on, watching you with big interest. You scanned the room for one specific pair of indigo eyes. And you found him, your heart beat picking up almost instantly.

He was there. Sitting in his desk, he had his earbuds in and was looking at his phone with tired eyes, his purple hair hidden under his hoodie. As you saw him just sitting there, you thought maybe this was a bad idea. What if he simply didn't want to see you? Both of you didn't know you were in the same school, and what if he thought you were creepy or clingy or...

His gaze lifted from his phone only for a glance to see why his friends were suddenly so quiet, only to see you standing in front of the door, cheeks tinted red and looking very uncomfortable. Shinsou's eyes widened as he put his phone on his desk and stood up. Looking like he couldn't believe you were there, standing just a few meters away from him, he slowly got closer to you.

When he stopped in front of you, he still looked like he couldn't believe his eyes. "H-hey." You told him, smiling anxiously. Everyone in the class was watching you both, and neither of you felt the slightest bit comfortable there. "You wanna go somewhere more... Private?" He finally asked, ignoring his friend's giggles and 'ooohhhh"'s.

"Oh, yeah, that would be amazing." You answered, letting him lead you out of the class. After a short walk, you found a quiet place, looking at each other awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"I didn't know you were in this school."

"I saw the drawing."

Both of you talked at the same time, making you giggle. "How did you find me?" He asked, his words setting a horrible feeling down your chest. Did he?...

"Y-you didn't want me to find you?" His eyes widened when he realized how his words sounded like. "No! I- I'm actually really happy you did, I was pretty sad when you didn't show up at the park." He mumbled, he seemed so sincere about his words, it caused you to blush. "You went back to the park?" The words tumbled out of your mouth with a much more hopeful tone than you would like.

He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. "I- I did. But you weren't there, so I thought you didn't - uhh, didn't want to see me." His cheeks slightly tinted pink, indigo eyes looking at everywhere but you, you couldn't help but think how adorable he looked.

"I visited the park too." You answered, noticing how close he was, all of a sudden. You could feel his soapy lavender smell, making your heart beat faster and faster with every second.

"I found you because of the drawing." You finally answered his question. "I was there with my friend, and she told me you were the artist." That wasn't exactly true, but you weren't lying either, right? Though he didn't seem to be listening either, his gaze fixed on your lips, smirking.

"I probably should thank your friend, then." He answered, making you chuckle. "Maybe you should."

***

Epilogue

"I really can't believe you're going on a date with Shinsou Hitoshi." Your friend repeated for the 100th time as she applied some highlighter to your cheeks.

"I can't either." You answered, feeling all giddy inside. It didn't take long for Shinsou to ask you out after you both found each other, and almost everyone knew about how you met now. Your friends eyes wandered over you.

"I understand everything but that sweatshirt, " she told you, face scrunched with disapproval, "you really can't wear that to a first date, you know." She told you, looking at the sweatshirt on you like it was the ugliest thing in the world but you ignored it. It might not be the prettiest thing you had, but it had history and you secretly liked wearing it, the lavender smell calming your nerves.

"I'm gonna be late." You told her, standing up when she finished the make up. As you arrived to the Cafe Shinsou and you decided to meet at you felt anxiety and excitement washing over you.

It wasn't far from your campus, making it easier for both of you. As you entered the Cafe, a smell of ground coffee filled your senses. Your eyes wandered around, looking for one particular head of purple hair.

You smiled when you saw him, all wrapped up in your red scarf you had given him, the biggest smile on his face when he saw you wearing his sweatshirt.

He thought you looked like a piece of art.

[hopeassassin]

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive. 

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out!  Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D 

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there! 

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D 

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious  individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D 

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you... 

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

[cloudywriter]

vanilla pudding cups - 2

~~~

A/N: hey guys, sorry i changed the name but i really hated the first one, it didn’t really fit. in a few chapters you’ll get the new title, but anyway i like it much better! im sorry if this chapter isn’t the best, i kinda pumped it out bc y’all were liking it & i like making people happy ya know, enjoy luvs

masterlist & AO3

~~~

Feyre woke up with a surprising amount of energy, usually she felt fatigued and spent most of her days lounging in her bed with earbuds in and a sketchbook laying in her lap. She decided she would use this new found energy to tape up her accumulating pile of various sketches she wanted up on her wall.

She threw on a pair of loose, grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, stained with her attempts at using charcoal, soon setting out on her voyage to acquire a ladder.

Surprisingly, it was an easy task. All she had to do was sweet talk the maintenance guy a little bit, throw in the whole I have cancer and she had a ladder leaning against her wall in no time. 

--

Rhys, however, had a less pleasant start to the day. Alis had let herself in that morning with a plate in one hand and the same clipboard in another. 

She informed him that unfortunately his day would consist mostly of testing and scans to determine just how bad it was. She left Rhysand to get ready and eat his breakfast of rubbery, bland tasting eggs and one of those nasty little plastic cups of mixed fruit. 

As the day went on, Rhys lost count of how many needles punctured his skin and how many cups of contrast solution he had to gulp for his scans.

Finally, he fell back into bed later in the evening feeling drained, though he had barely lifted a finger. But the mass amount of poking and prodding he endured only cemented in his mind that he was truly right back where he started a year ago. The realization was mind-numbing. 

He hadn’t even called Mor, Cassian, Az, or Amren to ask for their support. He didn’t feel like he had had the time to truly mourn the life that had become his over the last few months, the life he was losing. He needed a moment, when he got a moment he would let himself fall apart. For only a moment before he would have to put back on the mask of the Rhys his family had come to know. The Rhys that wasn’t afraid of death, the Rhys that still had faith that he could make it, that this new battle wasn’t a lost cause.

In truth, Rhysand was terrified of the idea of death, of leaving them behind. To think of the lives they would live without him was like a punch to the stomach, the kind that leaves you sprawled on the ground struggling to suck in air. 

Just as his mask began to crack, just as the tears began to prick his eyes, as the sinking feeling in his stomach intensified, and the air felt heavy, too thick to breathe properly, the faint sound of a violin captured his attention. It was a small tether keeping him anchored to reality and he felt the pull. 

Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he had slipped out of his door and was outside of another; the one that was undoubtedly the source of the violin. 

It felt as if he was watching himself in a dream as he pushed open the door. 

And there she was.

A nostalgic feeling as if he were reliving a fever dream took root. A girl was sitting atop a metal ladder. The setting sun sent light streaming in through the floor to ceiling window, illuminating her; her long, honey-colored hair was glowing gold. Her skin was pale, without any hint of a tan but her arms were dotted with faint freckles as if she had once spent all of her days basking in the sun. Strips of tape lined her fingers and she held the dispenser between her teeth, her free hand holding a piece of paper to the wall. 

Rhys found himself staring at her rather than making his presence known. The combined sound of soothing classic music emitting from a laptop on the bed and her sun-lit silhouette had him mesmerized. She honestly looked like an angel in the flesh, if angels wore sweat pants and oversized, charcoal stained t-shirts that is.

As soon as Rhys started to regain his wits a screech came from behind him. 

“FEYRE ARCHERON, GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

Rhys and the girl, Feyre, both spun to face Nurse Alis who stood in the threshold. 

He heard the ladder groan behind him, the patter of bare-feet on tile, and the warmth of a body came to rest next to him. 

His head pivoted to look at her to find she was already examining him herself. 

She looked him up and down then met his gaze. Her eyes were vivid, so blue with a ring of grey around the pupil and they were so full of life. The same soft freckles that decorated her arms danced across the bridge of her nose. Her left cheek had a smear of charcoal across it. A small smile came to her lips as their eyes meet. He thought she really was an angel.

“Feyre, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She broke eye contact, “I’m hanging up some of my sketches.” 

“Using a ladder? Alone? You could fall and crack your head open! And I’m your assigned nurse! They’d blame me and then I’d have to scrap your brains off the floor while looking for a new job!” Alis cried, eyes wide. 

“I guess that sounds like a less than pleasant afternoon for you,” Feyre considered.

“Uh huh, less than pleasant. Where the hell did you even get a whole ladder?”

Feyre shrugged, “Tarquin, the maintenance guy, and I are pretty cool.”

Alis rolled her eyes. “You guilt-tripped him with the cancer card.”

“Works every time,” Feyre looked satisfied with herself. 

“Yeah, well, next time guilt him into supervising you too.”

As their short exchange came to a close, Alis’s face lit up, “I see you met our newest resident, Rhysand.”

Feyre gave me another glance. “If you count meeting as found him staring at me then sure.”

Rhysand felt his cheeks and neck heat as the embarrassment that that is literally what he did set in. 

“Sorry,” he began to sputter, “I-I heard the music and just ended up in here, I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

Feyre gave him a playful smile and held out her hand.

Rhys hesitated only a moment before taking her smaller hand into his. 

Instead of usual, mundane introductions, Feyre ripped off the bandaid. 

“So, you’re dying too?”

Rhysand’s stomach didn’t drop as he heard the raw words, he felt weirdly at peace in her presence.

“That’s what they tell me.”

Alis cleared her throat, “I hate to interrupt this heart-warming exchange but I was actually here to grab Rhysand for a moment.” 

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys. “Oh, okay,” her shoulders slumped a microscopic amount. 

Quickly, Rhysand found himself being led down the hallway, the calm aura dissipating. He wasn’t fully listening as Alis explained that they needed to draw a little more blood, his mind just kept wondering back to you know who.

He tried to focus his attention to his hands as he always did when getting blood drawn when he noticed: a smear of charcoal had been left across palm.

His lips tugged up at the corners ever so slightly. 

~~~

hope this is alright! kinda cliche but what are you gonna do? also leave a reply if you wanna be tagged in updates i think that’s a thing people do lol.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

The Doctor was in her office, but she’d stopped working several hours ago; in fact, when Orchid came by to ask about her squad’s upcoming deployment, she found her at the empty assistant’s desk with what looked like a full-blown toolbox at her side. “Good afternoon, Doctor. I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?”

“Oh, hey, Orchid! Nah, I’m just working on some��n for my anniversary.” She held up the ring she was working on. “It’s our first, so I wanna do some’n extra special, ya know?”

“Anniversary? I didn’t know you were even seeing anyone. Who’s the lucky guy? Or gal, either way.”

That earned the Liberi a smile. “Blue, Glaucus, and I are going on six months now.”

“Huh. Like, all three of you together?” She whistled. “I think one’s about all I can handle.”

“I think that’s partially because of who that one person is, though.” The Doctor’s smile was somewhere between caustic and glacial as she fired off her retort.

Orchid sighed. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there...So, do you have an update for me on when my team’s heading out into the field? Poppy’s trying to schedule chainsaw lessons with Blaze, and it’s probably better for those to happen on deployment rather than in one of the training areas.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” She rolled her chair across the floor to reach her computer. “Lemme see where I put you...”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Blue Poison was sitting at the counter with a pencil and pad of paper, sketching and erasing more than she ever had before. Cakes were supposed to be her thing, so why was this so hard…

“Hey, Blue!” Gummy walked in, a box of ingredients in her arms. “Everything okay? You looked stressed.”

“I’m making a cake for my anniversary today, and I want it to be perfect...but I don’t know how to make it look the way I want it to.”

The chef set her box on a side table. “Maybe I can help? Mousse has been-”

“Hi, Gummy!” Speak of the Feline, and she shall appear. “Oh, Miss Blue? You look worried.”

“Mousse, you showed up just in time! Blue’s baking an anniversary cake, but she’s worried it won’t look good. Can you help us come up with something that’ll really wow her special someone?”

The Anura mumbled, “Someones. I have two girlfriends.”

“Sure, I can help!” A black cat appeared out of nowhere with her sketchpad. “What kind of cake do you want to make?”

“...A wedding cake.”

While Rhodes Island’s best bakers conspired to craft the perfect anniversary cake, Glaucus tinkered in her room, looking through schematics to find the pieces she needed for the ideas in her head. It wasn’t every day she had something to celebrate, so she felt like she really had to make this special, but she was quickly discovering she didn’t have many ideas that made good toys. “Hmm...The Doctor said she’d like something she can set on her desk, and Blue likes watching the clouds on the top deck. Maybe something held in a magnetic field that has a liquid component? That would be interesting, and it shouldn’t be too hard to make. I will need a container of some kind for it, though.”

*knock knock* “Glaucus?” That was Mayer’s voice at the door. “Do you have the prototype for the magnetic field generator model?”

“One second.” The Supporter engaged her exosuit, walked over to the table she set the model on, and opened the door to hand it to the Anaty at the door...

...Who looked behind her and saw what she was working on. “Has it already been six months?”

“Hmm?” Glaucus followed her eyes. “Yeah. I want to make them something like levitating lava lamps. Actually, can I borrow a few Meeboos? I need some help with the containers, and I’m not entirely sure what I want to fill them with for the best effect.”

“I’ll do you one better and help you myself. It’s been kind of a slow day, but helping you out might teach me something I can use on the magnet-powered Meeboo!”

With a little trepidation, she let Mayer inside. “Alright, you can help me out. We’re gonna need two of them.”

“Obviously.” The Anaty chuckled. “What else would you do, ask them both to share?”

“...I am so glad I work with someone this perceptive.”

--- --- --- --- ---

The Doctor’s shift came to an end, and she returned home with a trio of rings in her pocket, eager to start celebrating. She wondered if her girlfriends had gotten as into this idea of anniversaries as she had; for her, it was a brand new type of memory, one that, even as an amnesiac, she knew was a new sort of experience, and one she was looking forward to having many more of...

‘Home’ for the trio was the Doctor’s suite, partially because it’d been the largest of their three rooms, partially because she was the only one who didn’t need a separate workshop for her stuff, and partially because her room had been site zero...entirely by accident. All three of them being there had been intentional, at least - Meteor had held a meet-and-greet sort of thing for the more introverted folks, the sort of event only a team mom could have considered and then kept enjoyable, and afterwards Blue and Glaucus had taken up on the Doctor’s offer for a nightcap. 

They quickly discovered none of them could actually drink alcohol, each for a completely different reason, so it’d turned into the three of them talking the night away instead. The Anura made a remark that this was the most of Glaucus’ voice she’d heard since they’d met, and the Supporter admitted with a blush that this was the most comfortable she’d felt around a pair of people since she’d arrived. That got the two of them talking about life before Rhodes Island; Blue reminisced about walking hand-in-hand with friends, which prompted the Doctor and Glaucus to ask why she didn’t at RI. She sighed, saying most people were too scared of the possibility of her poisoning them to consider it - and before she could even finish the sentence, they’d each grabbed the hand closest to them with a level of coordination they couldn’t have even planned.

Man, that was a fun night.

Anyway, the Doctor went to unlock her door, only to have Blue open it for her with a bright smile, already out of her work clothes and in something casual. “Welcome home~ How was work?”

“Slow as hell, honestly.” She went for a kiss, encouraged by the frosting on the Anura’s upper lip. “You made dessert, I take it?”

“You’ll see. Glue got back a few minutes ago and went to the bedroom to change, if you want to join her.”

A shrug. “I think I’ll keep you company until she’s out. Did you burn yourself, dear?”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” She shook her head. “I dropped a beaker and cut myself while cleaning up. Nothing serious.”

“Gotcha. Hey, that was quick!” They both turned to watch Glaucus walk out of the bedroom.

The Supporter waved. “Didn’t need to do much. Are we ready to start?”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” The Doctor rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see... this...cake...Holy shit.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Blue,” Glaucus agreed, swooping in to take her hand as their third tried to figure out how to tackle the three-tiered titan in front of them.

She giggled. “I’m happy you both think so. I had some help planning it, but it turned out even better than I expected.”

“This reminds me of something,” the Doctor noted as they took the topmost layer for themselves, “but...I don’t know what.”

“It’s a wedding cake,” the Supporter replied.

The Anura nodded. “I’ve always wanted to try making one, and I thought this was as good a time as any. Is it good, Doctor?”

“You know how addicted I am to your cakes, Blue.” She’d already eaten a third of the portion she’d retrieved. “I’m happy there’s enough of this one to last a couple days.”

“Once we’re done eating, I have something as well.” Glue chimed in while it was on her mind. “We should wait, though. The frosting might stain them.” 

The Doctor flashed her a thumbs up, and after they’d had their fill (keeping in mind they were planning to go out to eat), Glaucus went back to the bedroom and returned with a pair of blue boxes with green bows on top, each manageable with one hand. “They’re a bit fragile, but I think they’re pretty neat.”

“...This is magnetic, isn’t it?” The Anura opened her box and pulled out a small double-capped cylinder with two distinct layers of liquid along with a flat black base.

“How do we turn them on?” The Doctor wondered aloud. “I don’t see a switch or any- oh, wait, it’s this, isn’t it?”

The Supporter smiled as she found the clicker she’d taped to the top of the box. “Green turns it on, red turns it off; both are gradual to ensure the cylinder doesn’t move too fast and shatter.”

“That’s really co- no, this is awwwwesome. I’m totally taking this to my office.” She’d expected it to float, because Glaucus’ thing was magnets, but to spin as well? That was next-level shit.

“You color-coordinated them as well,” Blue noted with admiration before kissing her on the cheek. “It reminds me of a stormy evening sky.”

Glue blushed. “Then I’m two-for-two.”

“Oh! Speaking of, I made us something, too!” The Doctor fished in her pocket, found the rings, and kept her hand there for a moment.

“...You’ve talked about making jewelry on slower days,” the Anura said, “but it’d be a pain to keep three chains in one pocket.”

Glaucus had to sit down, as even with her exoskeleton on, her knees suddenly felt weak. “Blue, I think I know what she made.”

“Let me know if you guessed right :D.” She held out her hand, and there were three rings - simple silver bands, nearly identical except for differently-colored stones on top - one sapphire, one amethyst, and one citrine.

“I was.” The Supporter fell sideways, laying across Blue’s lap. “We already have the wedding cake.”

The Doctor balked. “Not that I’d say no, but it still feels kinda early for that.”

“All in good time. I’ll consider it a promise for the future.” Blue accepted the amethyst for herself and put the sapphire ring on Glaucus’ finger.

“Same...” Glue, it appeared, was down for the count. “I might need a minute before...dinner...”

That was just fine in their book; the Doctor helped the Anura take their sluggish girlfriend somewhere more comfortable before disengaging the exoskeleton for some late afternoon cuddling. Despite all the blue in their lives (I mean, just look at those color schemes), life had never been brighter...

[anjuschiffer]

#115 for Lukanette pwetty pwease? :3 (for the drabble ask ^_^)

Hey @lady-charinette! Sorry for the long wait! But here it is! I swear this was suppose to be a drabble, but oh well 

This was a tricky prompt, and by that, it was difficult to have this line in the story in a way I had envisioned my particular take on the prompt. Sure, I could’ve made them play a game, but that didn’t completely fit this line. (and honestly that would’ve turned into a comfort genre as well...) I wanted to akumatize Luka, but that route was a tad too world building for my liking :’D

So I went to my usual and did a comfort-Lukanette, so I hope you don’t mind this approach :)

Also, there’s a second part to this (currently in the works!) so look out for that!

Anyways, hope you enjoy this ^^

-----

Context: Marinette knows Luka is Viperion and vice versa. They found out about each other’s identities unwillingly, but instead of Marinette (she’s the Guardian) choosing to strip Luka of both his powers and memories, she decided to see how things would go before she had to make that decision. 

Luka sometimes lingers on Marinette’s rooftop after detransforming, thankfully not clashing with Chat yet. Or sometimes Luka just drops by the roof when he wants to check on Mari :) And yes, Mari has scolded him from parkouring and scaling buildings.

-----

115. “I let you win.” 

-----

(To Cheer Up Your [Not Yet] Girlfriend)

“Just remember Marinette, I let you win.” 

Marinette sighed as Lila’s words rang through her head, only growing louder with each passing second and it being nighttime didn’t help a single bit.

Lila got akumatized again, Marinette having to save her enemy once more from her own lies. From her own denials...

Once again, Lila was threatening Marinette with taking everything away from her. Her friends were starting to distance themselves from her, never having time to hang out with her, with each other. When she decided to confront the girl, that’s when the talk turned into an argument and then a one-sided monologue. 

As Marinette showed Lila the evidence she had finally managed to pile up against the girl, Lila allowed herself to get akumatized, reaching for the neon purple butterfly.

Marinette remembered the sheer fear she felt when she saw Lila morph into Verita Serpent, using serpents to hide the truth all across Paris, targeting Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Thankfully, Lila never found her -seeing as Marinette was Ladybug- and took her down with the help of Chat, Viperion and Rena.

But even when she defeated Lila, Marinette couldn’t help but let her words sink in, because they were true.

She let them win. She told Ladybug where the akuma was hidden. Ladybug had lost that round.

Marinette hated to admit it, but… Lila was starting to get to her. The akuma monologues were starting to get to her. Her duties as Ladybug were starting to make her muscles ache, to scream in agony at the expectations everyone had for her… they were starting to beg for a break...

It was getting difficult to keep these thoughts to herself, to try and keep her emotions in check. Therapy didn’t help, seeing as Marinette couldn’t peep a word to her therapist about her being Ladybug. Hell, she couldn’t talk about the threats Lila told her seeing as it would expose herself to-

Marinette whipped her head towards her skylight door, hearing a faint melody coming from outside.

“That better not be Chat again.” Marinette muttered to herself, really hoping it wasn’t Chat.

Yes, she enjoyed his company, but tonight wasn’t a good night to be here. 

Aside from Lila’s akumatization -for the third time that year- Marinette has commissions to start that night, some in which were backtracked, as well as upcoming fundraisers she had to plan for that year’s school trip. 

In short, she had events to plan and clothing to start, so Chat dropping by today was off the list. 

Getting up with a huff, Marinette traversed through her room, opening the skylight door with no caution.

“Chat, it’s literally one in the morning and I really need to-”

“Sorry to interrupt you Melody, but do I really look like Chat to you?” Marinette blinked before a blush blossomed onto her face. 

“Luka! Oh hey! Water- what are you here doing? Doing here?” Marinette managed to squeak out, watching Luka smile at her blunder, still strumming a melody. 

“Decided to walk by and see how you’re doing.” Luka said, continuing to strum to an unknown beat, Marinette quickly letting her shoulders relax, only then realizing she had them squared. “Seems like you’ve seen better days.”

“I have.” Marinette admitted, rubbing her arm. “Today just isn’t one of those days.”

Luka frowned at that, slowing the pace. He noticed her trying to warm herself up by rubbing her hands together in attempts to retain heat. While it was late summer, fall breezes started to let themselves be known. Last time they talked, Luka remembered Mari mentioning starting to be severely affected by the change in temperatures.

“Are you cold?” 

“Kinda.”

“Wanna go back where it’s warmer?” Luka asked, motioning to her bedroom. 

Mari nodded, going down the hatch tilting her head when she saw Luka stay outside. 

“Aren’t you going to come in?”

“Only if you let me in.” Mari didn’t know why, but she flushed at those words, motioning Luka to come in, giggling when he gave her his guitar first before carefully making his way in. 

“Pink.” Was the first word that came out of Luka. “Very pink.”

“Sorry! I just-“

“Don’t apologize for liking the color Mari. After all,” a strum. “It’s very Marinette.” At those words, Mari smiled. 

Closing the hatch and letting Luka make himself feel at home in her, Mari grabbed her sketchpad and took a seat next to him in her chaise longue, looking over the sketches she had to start work on. 

“Is your mom aware that you’re here?” Mari decided to ask, adding a few more notes onto her sketch before getting up to grab some patterns to start her first commission: a party gown

“She could care less. As long as I get back home in one piece, she’s fine with me roaming around.”

“Wish I had the liberty to do that.”

“Can’t you?” At that, Marinette was about to answer, but promptly shut her mouth. 

While she did have the same freedom to do as she pleased, she couldn’t quite do it to her heart's content, Ladybug took much of her time and now, so was MDC. It’s only been a few months, but Marinette’s emails have been swarming with commissions, Marinette having to send emails with a heavy heart, telling potential investors that she couldn’t tend to their request. There were even times where she accidently used the wrong email to send the bad news, Marinette rushing to fix her own mistakes. Marinette no longer had time to worry about herself. MDC and Ladybug were top priority right now.

At the thought, she chuckled. Where was Marinette right now? What freedom was left for Marinette?

“Mari… Mari… look at me.” Luka’s voice softly registered into her mind, Marinette wondering what was going on. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yea. Sorry about that.” Mari said, turning around to see Luka right behind her, his guitar abandoned where he was seated. “What were you asking?”

“Do you want the first question or the more recent one?”

“Umm… recent one?”

“Can you hear me?” At this, Mari chuckled, giving Luka a smile.

“Loud and clear.” Mari couldn’t help but notice the wavering smile on Luka’s face before it turned into a straight line.

“It was the akuma from this afternoon, wasn’t it?”

“What? No. I-”

“Mari.” Luka approached her, grabbing her hands and stroked them. “It was the akuma, right? Or rather, the person behind the akuma…”

“It wasn’t Lila.”

“So that’s her name.” Luka growled, causing Marinette to panic.

“Luka, please it wasn’t-”

“It was Lila and I know it was.” Luka stated, biting his cheek. “Whenever she’s mentioned or even implied, your melody starts to waver, its waves quivering in anger and irritation, becoming a mess if we continue to mention her as we talk. It gets so chaotic to the point that your melody loses its tranquility… its happiness.” Luka looked at her with piercing aqua eyes. “And this isn’t the first time this has happened before.”

Mari bit her lip, slipping her hands away from Luka’s. He was right. This wasn’t the first time Marinette had trouble with Lila. And he knew that.

“It’s not Lila, I already told you that.”

“We both know you're lying to yourself.” Mari scoffed.

“Lying? To myself? Luka.” Marinette looked at him with round eyes, her bluebell eyes seeming to look sapphire. “I can deal with Lila, I don’t need to lie to myself that she isn’t the problem.” 

“Then what’s bothering you?” Luka asked, cupping her face with one hand, taking her hand with his other. “You’re in disarray and you know you can’t hide that from me.” As much as Marinette wanted Luka to buy her lie, he wasn’t going to, but playing along will help to get an answer to his question… as much as he hated going along with a bad tune.

Marinette nuzzled against the gesture, placing her hand over his.

“It’s me.” Marinette whispered, Luka barely catching it. “I’m the cause of all my frustrations.”

“If it’s about Ladybug, you know you can always-”

“It’s more than just Ladybug, Viper.” Mari said, putting down his hand and walking to her full length mirror, seeing Ladybug, MDC and herself in the reflection, their faces on different portions of the mirror’s cracks. “It’s MDC as well.”

Luka frowned, standing behind Mari, peering over her shoulder to see only her reflection staring back at them. When did Mari look so pale, so tired?

“When was the last time you took a break?” When Marinette simply hummed for about five minutes, Luka walked in front of her, cupping her face. “Seems like too long.”

He guided Mari back to the chaise longue, making her sit. “Do you mind if I rummage through your things?”

“Go ahead.” Mari said, watching as he made a beeline for her things, picking up a Jagged Stone hoodie from her closet and a pair of sweats. 

“Didn’t know you had this hoodie. Have the same one back at home.” A giggle filled the room. 

“Silly! We went to the same concert!” Mari reminded him, smiling at the memory. 

Luka had mentioned having a spare ticket to Jagged’s concert and offered Juleka to come, only for his sister to turn him down and for him to ask Mari out instead. 

The two had a blast, that day learning that Mari had collaborated before with Jagged, resulting in the trio to have a nice chat over waffles. 

Before they went home, the duo had received merch that was in the making, the two happy to receive free merch from their favorite singer. 

“True, but we were the only ones to get these, remember?” Luka places the clothing into her hands, going to a corner and stared at the wall. “Put them on. It’s easier to relax in comfortable clothing after all.” 

“Don’t peek!” Mari said, throwing a fabric sheet over him as she quickly changed into the hoodie and sweats. She took off the fabric draping Luka, giggling when she saw him still staring at the wall. Or rather, sitting in the corner with his eyes closed. “You can look now.”

Luka swerved in his spot, cracking one eye open and then the next, smiling at her change of outfit. 

“Doesn’t it feel better?”

“Much better.” 

“Now, let’s get into bed!” Luka said with a chirp, Mari frantically made her way to her desk, almost tripping in the process. 

“What? No! I can't!” Mari grabbed her sketchpad and a roll of muslin. “I need to start-“

“Mari.” Luka said softly, grabbing the roll away from her and placed her sketchpad onto her desk. “You need to sleep.”

“No, I need to start-“

“You need to sleep Mari.” Luka repeated, taking her ribbons out, her hair cascading down her shoulders. “You hadn’t properly slept this past week.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Tikki and Sass told me.” Luka said with a smirk, Mari turning her head in the direction of where she had hidden the Miracle Box. 

Kwami! She had forgotten about them and their loyalty towards Luka. 

“That’s cheating.” Mari said with a pout, crossing her arms. Luka chuckled. 

“Come on, I promise to wake you up by 7.”

“You plan on returning?” Mari asked, letting herself be guided to her bed, making sure to step properly as she climbed the stairs. 

“Of course. Your parents make the best brioche.” At that, Mari began to giggle, not realizing she threw herself onto her bed. 

“Of course you’re coming for the food! Should’ve known that by now!”

“But you can’t deny there’s nothing better than your parent’s baking.”

“”You’re right.” Marinette said with a smile, sitting up next to Luka. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Luka said, opening his arms for a hug. Mari giggled before throwing herself into his embrace, absorbing the warmth. 

She felt herself relax against his chest, his heartbeat a familiar melody to her. Also, did he always smell this good?

“Mari, I need to go.” Luka said softly, trying to get up to leave. But when Mari didn’t bother to move, he began to worry. “Mari, you alright?”

“Shtay.” Mari slurred, shifting in his arms. “Et’s go ta sleep.” 

Luka smiled at Mari’s dazed face, telling her he would stay, tucking her into bed and watched as she drifted to sleep, her midnight hair framing her face.

He stroked her cheek, watching Mari further relax, sinking into the pile of pillows surrounding her.

“Sleep well, mon chou.”

Luka slipped out the room, closing the hatch behind him. With the click of the window, Luka began his walk home, a smile on his face the entire way, humming a new melody he obtained that night.

Maybe one day he’d finally have the courage to sing her the melody that’s been stuck in his head since the first day they had met.

One day...

------

Note: I based Luka’s method to something a dear friend of mine used to do for me when I was in my deepest moments. He’d make it his mission to try and make me smile at least once everyday. And honestly… I’m very thankful for his efforts… 

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

17 with modern reader, maybe a bit angsty and fluffy :)

Number 17:

First off I apologize this took so long. I’ll admit this one stayed on the back burner because I really wasn’t sure how to make this angsty? I feel like it’s a phrase that wouldn’t really work in this aspect, or only used in a really specific scenario. Either way I could not think of anything, so enjoy this instead!

Standing in front of the mirror, you observed your bare skin. Twisting and turning in different angles, a thoughtful look on your face as you did so. Your imagination began to grow.

“Hey, whatcha doin’?” Arthur asked, stepping behind you, eyeing you in the mirror.

“Thinking about getting a tattoo.” you answered, smoothing your hand against your arm.

“A tattoo?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Been wanting one for a while, had a design in mind, but I think I’m gonna go and get it today.”

“That’s ink under the skin, right?” Arthur asked. “How’s that work?”

You smiled at him. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

—

About an hour later, you found yourself in a local tattoo parlor. After speaking with the artist and coming up with a design, you were prepared for your first tattoo.

You’d decided on something simple; a small rose that would be placed on your shoulder. You were sitting with your shirt off, propped against the chair as the artist prepped your shoulder.

Arthur seemed mesmerized by the atmosphere, completely enthralled by the multitude of designs that covered the walls. Even with the more questionable  imagery, you had to wonder if he just appreciated the artistic choices of them all.

He wandered over just as the stencil was placed on your shoulder. “Is that it?” he asked. “Seems easy enough.”

You giggled. “No, that’s just a template. The artist is going to go over it.”

Arthur tilted his head to look at the design, switching his attention to watch as the tattooist began to set up his gun. As the artist fired it up, the buzzing noise filling the space as he touched it to your skin.

The first thing you felt was the vibration. You held back a flinch as your nerves registered the needles continuously poking you. It wasn’t inherently painful; at first feeling as if someone was scratching you with more pressure than needed. After a few seconds it began to grow uncomfortable, and the tattooist stopped briefly.

You took a deep breath, thankful it wasn’t as painful as you perceived it to be.

“Did that hurt?” Arthur asked.

“A little,” you answered. “Not too bad though.”

Arthur shook his head. “All to have art on your skin?”

“A few moments of pain is worth the beauty later,” you said. “That’s why tattooing is so popular.”

“Exactly, my man.” the tattooist added as he continued to work on your shoulder.

Arthur’s lips twitched thoughtfully in response, silently watching as the design slowly made its appearance upon your shoulder. As the time passed, your body had gotten used to the sensation, growing mostly numb unless passing over a bonier spot.

Overall it didn’t take long; roughly thirty minutes for the outline. The plan was to let it heal and come back in a few weeks for the coloring. Arthur remained mostly silent for the remainder of the session, keeping his gaze fixed on the piece as it grew more to completion.

Once the piece was complete, it was covered gingerly with a bandage. You stood up and pulled your shirt on, ready to head back and pay, when Arthur spoke up.

“I kinda want one.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, a small shrug rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, think it’s a neat concept.”

“Um…” you trailed off, giving him a serious look. “Arthur, a tattoo is a lifelong commitment. Once you get it, it’s there forever.” you pointed out.

He nodded once, meeting your gaze evenly. “I know, Y/N.”

There was absolution in his voice. A simple phrase that held power behind it. You couldn’t really imagine him with a tattoo, assuming it wasn’t really his style. Perhaps you were wrong.

“I got time to do another,” the tattooist chimed in, causing the both of you to look at him as he cleaned up his station. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll get to working.”

Fixing your eyes both back at each other, Arthur’s lips formed into a smile. A hopeful smile that somewhat reminded you of a child waiting for you to say yes.

Ah, what the hell. Expelling a resigned sigh, you waved toward Arthur. “Alright, go for it.”

—

You weren’t expecting Arthur to find a design immediately.

Given that he liked to draw, you assumed he would attempt to create his own style. However, he’d made a beeline for one of the albums over in the waiting area. Grabbing the book and flipping through the heavy pages, he pointed to one: the outline of a buck, staring up at a full moon. You recalled him skimming through the albums earlier. It was a simplistic design, yet somehow it seemed to hold a deeper meaning to it.

You waited as Arthur and the tattooist discussed it, Arthur re-sketching it on a blank piece of paper to add his own personal flair to it. You’d always liked the way he drew, and his recreation of it seemed even better than before.

After adding the final touches, it was printed out as a stencil. While the station was once again being prepared, Arthur sat himself in the chair with his sleeve rolled up. He’d decided he wanted it on his bicep.

You settled in the chair next to him. “This is going to hurt. You know that right?”

“Y/N, I’ve been bucked off and kicked by horses, and been shot. I’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah, actions of which you don’t do to yourself,” you pointed out with a chuckle. “So don’t get cocky.”

Scoffing lightly, he grinned in amusement. “How bad could it be?”

“You say that now...” you murmured with a touch of warning in your tone.

When the gun touched his skin, you’d never seen his eyes fly open so wide.

You held back another chuckle, the smile touching the corners of your lips. You watched as he clenched his teeth, obviously attempting to hide his discomfort as the needle went over the lines.

He looked over at you, straining to feign a decent smile. “Ain’t...so bad...” he huffed.

You shook your head with laughter. “Told ya.”

The process was shorter than yours as his had less detail than yours. Eventually you could see Arthur began to ignore the constant micro stabbing, watching with interest as the tattoo came to life on his skin. The process was intriguing to you too, as you couldn’t have seen your own.

Once completed, the fresh ink shone brightly under the studio’s fluorescent lighting. The tattooist wiped away the excess ink, allowing it to stand prominent against Arthur’s muscled arm. He flexed slightly, and the deer moved along with him.

“Pretty cool,” you commented, realizing how good he looked with it. You wondered if he’d attain more in the future. “Don’t regret it?”

“Nah,” he responded. “may be the only one though.”

The artist in turn laughed at Arthur’s remark, covering the tattoo with a bandage. “My man, it’s like an addiction. Once you start, you can’t stop.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Y’mean fellers put themselves willingly in more pain for these?”

“Basically,” the artist replied with a laugh. “Worth it to look badass.”

Arthur only shook his head at that.

---

Who else wants a tatted Arthur? Mmmm.

Send me a prompt!

[starsgivemehp]

Okay! In that case, I think I’m gonna go with Guts for this story. What are some of the things he likes the most? (Food, activities, etc.). Also, do you have any particular picture of where he usually lives? Also, how does he get along with his brother? (Sorry for the spam, I just want to make this good)

rssgiyfgeiuf you’re really gonna write me something? Q,Q bless u fam

Another cut because my god, I don’t shut up lmao

So Guts is, canonically, the horror end of my classic boy Vega! That means that everything that applies to Vega also applies to him. For example:

Vega (and therefore Guts) has voice to color synaesthesia! Different tones of voice that convey certain emotions have different colors. This makes it difficult (but not impossible) to lie to him. For example, joy is often a clear blue, tranquility is cyan, confidence is orange, tiredness is purple, triumph is yellow (and if you see a pattern, you’re right, soul trait colors match up with emotions). Positive emotions tend to be clear and nice, overly-exaggerated emotions (like when a Papyrus is pretending to be confident even though he’s not) are too saturated and bright, and negative emotions are muddy and diluted. This applies to his own voice and anybody else’s voice. He likes blues the best, and he tends to use this ability to comfort people he can tell are faking it or are trying to hide upset. Do note that this overlaps the more voices there are, so while he can handle a little while of being around lots of people, it will overstimulate him soon enough and he’ll really want to cover his non-ears and take a nap to stop the colors everywhere drowning everything else out. Thus, he’s not keen on stuff like amusement parks or big parties or sports fields.

(note that this is a little old and not all-encompassing, so just kinda use what feels right, I think)

Also important to note that Solstice, or Eclipse as he renames himself in Horrortale, is the Papyrus, but he is not Vega/Guts’ brother. He is, in fact, their son. Sol is completely unaware of this fact and thinks they are brothers. See, Vega’s mom is the river person, and her name is Carme (a sans serif font). His father was Roman (or Times New Roman) and he died while Vega was still pretty young, he doesn’t remember the guy at all. Carme has some form of dementia (I’ll be honest, I haven’t done enough research yet to pick) and, while always cheerful and doing her boating duty well, doesn’t often recognize Vega. However, he doesn’t mind much, and he’ll usually sing when he takes the boat, and she’ll sing along. When she does remember, she’ll coddle him gently.

Vega was in love with Gaster, who was a completely unrelated skeleton and the royal scientist. I dunno if they were officially married, but they were living together and had a son, Solstice (Gaster carried). Sol was still a baby when Gaster fell into the core, and everyone but Vega forgot about him. Vega found it difficult to raise a child on his own, and his mother wasn’t that bad mentally yet, so he decided to pretend it was his baby brother and have his mom help him raise the kid. By this point, now that Sol is a functioning adult, Vega could tell him, but he has no idea how to bring it up and explain, so he just keeps the lie since it’s easier. It doesn’t trouble him much. He is, however, worried that he may develop whatever Carme has and his own memory will start to go, and he’ll slip up and call Sol his son.

(shitty sketch is shitty)

In terms of how they get along, before the verse was horror-fied, Vega was endlessly patient with Sol, who has anxiety issues. But Vega also kinda has depression, so they’re a little co-dependent. He eases Sol’s anxiety a lot and Sol picks up the slack and gently bullies him to take care of himself. Sol is not a great cook, but Vega will honestly eat anything, so if Sol asks how it is, he can truthfully say he likes it (even if nobody else would) and everyone is happy. Vega works all the usual Sans jobs underground, and he’s just an all around dad guy. Super soft, super patient (it’s his soul trait), gentle and always smiling even when a little sad. His philosophy about life is basically to savor the little things, because you never know what you have until it’s gone, and the big things aren’t so overwhelming if there are lots of little things.

He’s a big fan of mac n’ cheese, and he likes little cut up hot dog (cat) pieces in it, with little octopus legs. Mac n’ seas. Also he’ll throw in broccoli sometimes to be healthy. He’s also really big on pretty much any other kid-friendly, easy to make food, like peanut butter and jelly, chicken nuggets, stuff like that. He does, ofc, drink ketchup and put it on all his food.

Vega is pretty old, about 500, I’d say, and Sol is almost 400 himself, so they’re among my older muses, but there are ones waaay older. He’s also a shortie, he’s only 4′6″. He tastes like vanilla. He also has a daddy kink (soft, very paternal in bed), and he’s into pillow humping, tentacles, sensory deprivation, and massages, but he’s asexual and his sex drive is relatively low. He rarely wants anything more than once or twice a month, and he hardly has two heats a year.

SO THAT’S ALL VEGA, and when his verse horror-fies and he becomes Guts, a lot of that stays intact, but there are some changes. If you follow canon horrortale, it’s fairly similar in terms of what happened to him, but reactions are a little different because he’s so soff. He did basically get backstabbed by Alphys and Undyne, who thought his magic was special enough to revive the core, and thus Undyne broke his head open. The difference is, none of it worked in the first place, and he didn’t get revenge on anyone, he just quietly went back home and stewed and tried his best to help his neighbors by hunting humans. He refused to eat human, though, so he was starving for years on end, to the point where he started to drool tar. He did 100% feed it to Sol without Sol being aware of it, to keep him alive and semi-healthy. When he hunts humans, he’s extremely regretful about it. He tricks them with creepy grins and quick movements, and he doesn’t hesitate when he brings the axe down, but usually, as he’s bringing it down, his smile will fade and he’ll give his best ‘I’m sorry’ look to them, because he really does feel fucking awful about it.

Eclipse is a pretty typical horror Pap, cheerful and cool with eating humans but still trying to be a good person. I don’t do the whole “Pap can’t hear shit and mistakes words” song and dance because it kinda irritates me, personally, and besides, as I mentioned in the last post, Guts barely talks anyway. He has gotten a little better at cooking, and while he’s frustrated with Guts refusing to eat human, he will obey Guts’ wishes and not feed him any.

Guts is EXTREMELY frustrated about his communication issues often, because he stalls out on signing, and when he tries to write, he has trouble scratching out the full shapes of letters and his handwriting is atrocious and he’s completely disgusted with it. While he can use words at times, he’s unhappy with his coloring (because it’s usually muddy purplish/tired or red/irritable these days). The best workaround he discovers, with help, is to communicate solely in emoji and punctuation. He’ll use emojis like the :pray: emoji for please, the :slight smile: for thank you, and the :face with bandage: to refer to himself in third person. The emojis work for his brain because he doesn’t process them as “language” with a grammatical structure, but merely pictures that can help him express his emotions.

Guts is far more tired than Vega, and while he does still somewhat have an urge to dad people, he’s been through so much trauma and difficulty that he’s a lot more needy and crumbles easily when someone else parents him instead of the other way around. He loves being picked up and snuggled and pet and loved on, and he naps when he’s safe and purrs when he’s doted on. He knows he’s cute and he owns it, tbh.

He struggles with eating, sometimes. I mentioned that whatever he’s eating has to include meat, but sometimes, he’ll get all up in his head about it if it’s human, and he’ll leak the tar more trying to hold himself back. Times like that, he needs reassurance of what the food is and that it’s okay to eat, pretty much constantly, while he stuffs his face before he can think about it too hard.

He is homeless when they reach the surface, because he finds it extremely difficult to find a job without talking. He usually begs on street corners with a sign or stays at a homeless shelter, not keeping much stuff. A few books, a picture of his bro, some clothes, that’s about it. He hides his situation from Eclipse a lot, because Eclipse went right off to culinary school and fuck if Guts will make him come back and sacrifice his dreams to take care of his invalid brother/father (and honestly part of that is just me not liking playing classic Papyrus much lmao).

In terms of activities/hobbies, he does kinda still like cooking simple foods, but he doesn’t often get the chance. He’s always fond of napping, and he likes listening to calmer kinds of music. Some alt rock, some instrumental, some ballads. He likes to feed birds at the park sometimes, because he hangs out there. He doesn’t really do much else.

Sexually, despite still being asexual, he’s more open to having sex more often, probably in part because he went a very, very long time without any and he kinda missed it. He’s still lazy in bed, having mostly the same kinks but subbing more. Also, he doesn’t automatically get turned on by eating (like Arum), but if his partner rubs him off while feeding him by hand, he’s pretty into it. Overall he is an overtired dad who is really, really thankful when someone finally says “hey, you’ve been the dad enough, let me baby you.”

This got way longer than expected, but I’m always happy to ramble, and if you need more info, just lemme know!

I leave you with this meme:

[soundrooms]

Soundrs: DJ CYBERDAD

My name is John Verchot, I’ve released music under several names: J-chot as well as DJ CYBERDAD. Locally, I’m usually just billed as DJ Verchot. I feel like the first thing I should tell you about myself is that I have severe ADHD, which seems to be the single most consistent force guiding my art and existence. I often get distracted and always get ahead of myself when I try to explain things. DJ CYBERDAD started out as a funny pseudonym to release more profane songs that I didn’t want my son to hear, but changed into an outlet for my smoother dance jams as well as more introspective music. 

What are your inspiration sources?

It varies from project to project. Often times with tracks, the inspiration to work on them comes in two or three different phases. Inspiration to create sounds is one thing, as inspiration to finish and structure tracks, create moods/themes, or even package them into a finished project, all feel like different driving forces/processes that need to happen in order for me to get anything done. However, whichever one of those forces I am able to utilize when I sit down at my laptop often seems to be beyond my control.

Most times I’ll hear a sound, loop or phrase, I’ll start to wonder what I can do with it, or how I can change and manipulate it. It might be the timbre of an old instructional video’s narrator, or an odd metallic sound I’ve managed to coax out of some equipment. Occasionally I’ll think of a concept, either of overall sound or thematic content and before I know it, I’ve got half a track planned out in my head. Many times I’ll hear other tracks or songs, and want to use just one part/concept/sound or re-do the whole track differently. With “Emotional in Destin”, I was trying to convey moods or feelings I felt during an unexpected trip to Florida in the middle of a crushing depression. It sounds bizarre, but I've never channeled personal experiences into my music before.

Overall what inspires me to create different sounds is the novelty of technology and bits and other people’s music.

What makes me want to sit down and make music is personal or professional success.

What inspires me to finish tracks and projects is the distant white noise of overwhelming anxiety and dread setting in as the ennui of the imminent collapse of western society fades giving way to the dark, almost imperceivable thrumming of the void drawing nearer, and is definitely getting louder. Your “time” is almost up John. Did you even do anything, or are you too skiddish and feeble of heart and head to make any clear decisions, impulsively flitting from one animal urge to another bad habit, clogging the chemical receptors of your brain for simple stupid pleasure. It’s night now and your eyes and fingers grow weary…

What was the question again? 

Tell us something about your workflow.

Most times, it starts with just noodling around. Sometimes, it’s with synths and sequencers, either recording sounds or looping notes and tweaking/loading patches (virtual or real synths), sometimes I’m browsing potential sample material, but what happens next is the same regardless of how I’m making sounds or what I’m doing:

…I think hear something.

…And I STOP noodling. Basically, I either hear something I like, or I hit a riff or whatever and it’s like a tiny, tiny light bulb that blinks barely. Occasionally it’s like a hundred watt, and other ideas quickly fall into place. Most times, it’s a process of trial and error, but I’m making sure to document or isolate the little pieces that click and then attempt to refine or improve on those ideas. Ideas can quickly diverge, multiple sets with different names get saved, and I often jump around and get lost. I use color coding on clips and pieces in Ableton to help me sort those ideas. Some ideas form by running one sequence I’ve had already through a whole different synth/patch.

Very rarely, I’ll get a concrete idea while I’m driving, maybe I’ll make some notes on my phone (text to speech notes, voice recording).

When I get a spark that makes me imagine a full concept (“Charles Nelson Riley”, or that “My P**sy tastes like Pepsi Cola” remix for example), the track is formed VERY quickly (four to eight hours working time) and I finish the mix, structure, everything. This is rare, but these tracks are almost always my better material.

The next step is always the same: Let the track “cool-off”. Leave it alone. Do something else for a few days, or weeks… or in some cases, years… Then I’ll fuck around with it even more, or move on to:

STRUCTURE & MIXING: 

I look for/experiment with arrangements that compliment my DJ style, or allow someone to do a rough edit if they want, (breakdowns at the end), or I’ll load a track that I like to DJ that’s similar enough and I will STRAIGHT UP copy the song structure in terms of intro, (drums or keys?) repeating bits, breakdowns, outros… Most times I fuck with it until it sounds okay, which is kinda bad because I end up drastically overscrutinizing it.

When it comes to mixing, something that I should do more often but don’t is load a reference track (someone else’s track) and try to get my mix to sound like theirs… This technique REALLY helps stop “nasty surprises” when you listen to it on a big system, or in the car.

Most of the time, I’ve been tweaking the mix the entire time I’ve been working on the project. 

TL;DR

The “Emotional in Destin” EP is almost entirely soft synths, but lately my flow is:

1. dick around on hardware

2. “oh that sounds good, let me make another sound to go with it” (see step 1)

3. record a few pieces to an Ableton project.

4. “I don't know what to do now.” …maybe mixing or structure…

…almost ALL THE TIME, however I jump around and do everything very non-linearly. Hardware helps me not spend so much time tweaking patches or EQ-ing a snare drum for an hour. Texture is SUPER important to me, so I’ll often get hung up on EQ and compression before I even start on structure or mixing. 

How would creative rituals benefit your workflow?

The hardest part for me is ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS getting started, or shifting gears from other activities (resting after work, reading tumblr, goofing off…) and going to sit down at my desk and start music stuff. I’m certain it’s an executive dysfunction thing. The less I think about doing it before I do it, the better.

Animal sacrifice SIGNIFICANTLY speeds things up. Try not to get blood on the gear/laptop, and make sure never to clean, but regularly sharpen the ceremonial dagger (VERY important). 

How do you get in the zone?

I don’t really try…

As soon as I start to approach a task as “a thing” I get nervous and anxious. If I go “okay, I’ve got this task to complete…” my subconscious hijacks my higher functions to make me look at memes or tumblr for three hours instead of do what I “should” or “want”… The problem with me in the past has been how do I get OUT of the zone? 

How do you start a track? 

Oh jeez, I really jumped the shark with that question earlier, didn’t I? A technique I’ll sometimes employ is load up an old track, keep the drum sounds/patches but delete all the data, and make an entirely different genre of track… or one that's very similar… That’s kind of a fun exercise if nothing else. Also it often winds up getting tweaked and adjusted to hell and back. 

Do you have a special template? 

Nope. I make TONS of drum, EQ, and effects presets though. And they all have terrible names like “gooddrums”, “$GOODrums” and such.

Even though I’ve started with carbon copies, they ALWAYS end up sounding completely different by the time I’m finished with the track, because I can’t leave em well enough alone. 

What do you put on the master channel? 

Sometimes EQ, but always a phat ass compressor (limiting). I’ve been thinking about investing in a nice non-free one lately, but for some reason I am not comfortable with purchasing software plugins… I also have learned recently, that I’ve been using compression on the individual tracks way too much… which makes final-mixing a pain in the ass. 

How do you arrange and finish a track? 

DAMN IT. I really did go too hard with the first couple questions. The “finishing” of a track for me (arrangement, mixing) is usually done much later than the rest of the process. I try not to force stuff, but lately I’m realizing more and more that I need to not do this as much.

I can’t stress enough how using a reference track for structure or mixing can very often break up stagnation on a project. 

How do you deal with unfinished projects?

Several ways. The first step is to judge an old file and see if it's worth finishing. If there is ANYTHING of creative/sonic merit, I put it in a folder with the other “sketches and ideas” (project graveyard). Otherwise, I have been trying to delete the “junk” projects… this can make it easier to focus. Another thing I often do is to make presets/patches/Ableton instruments from the parts I like, then drop it in a folder called “meh”. Or I drop them into several categorical folders, i.e.: “uncircumcised electro bangers”, “abrasive techno”. 

How do you store and organize your projects?

Aw jeez. Oh gosh-oh darn. (See above answer.) 

How do you take care of studio ergonomics? 

Trial and error, trial and error, trial and error. This year alone my studio has been restructured and moved about my downstairs room at least five times. I’ve finally settled on something that feels very useful and productive. I am also this way with my work station at my job. CHANGE IT UNTIL IT WORKS GREAT. This can also help with creative stagnation, or can trigger it, so be careful. I keep my “electronics laboratory” close at hand so that more of that tinkering can find it’s way into my music… no such luck, YET.

I’ve currently decorated my space with all the crap I’ve saved up over the years, that for some reason, I’ve looked at this and thought: “This makes me happy” …SUUURE, my studio now looks like a fourteen year old decorated it, but I gotta say, I feel pretty phenomenal. Soon I’m gonna try to put this “stars and space” wall paper on my ceiling… I’ll update with a photo when that’s done.

Also I would like to say:

Minimalist spaces and studios are bullshit, y’all look like sick baby birds in empty shoe-boxes.

I mean, NOBODY LIVES THAT WAY, right? Maybe some boring rich people do, but damn… I mean, I try to clean and stay organized… and it helps, but I also try not to get to hung up on it. 

Tell us something about your daily routine, how is your day structured, how do you make room for creativity?

**LOUD SUCKING SOUND THROUGH TEETH** I don't… at least, not very well at all… but I’m working on that.

I am not the person you should ask this question, because THIS RIGHT HERE is the BANE of my existence… 

Share a quick producing tip.

MAN, I’ve already dropped like… seven, but okay, here goes:

BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY, FINISH THE TRACK. For me, this means ghetto-rigging, DIY, using the same goddamn audio interface from 2002 for f****ng fifteen YEARS… (recently fixed) don’t get hung up on “proper” ways, or ways that are outside your current means. Also, get a set of decent monitors… or use several pairs of headphones/speakers to double check mixes.

Recently, I’ve had less time, but a little bit of money, which is the opposite of how I’ve ALWAYS operated… it’s been difficult to unlearn “time consuming but cheap”. Also difficult not to impulse buy synths. 

Making music with just a mouse and keyboard may be the least sexy thing ever… it works tho… cheap MIDI controllers CAN work faster however. 

Share a link to an interesting website (doesn’t have to be music related).

My son just showed me this ➜ https://dddance.party/ and I have to say, this is an outstanding achievement of mankind. 

List ten sounds you are hearing right this moment : ) 

Traffic outside my window, gentle hum of laptop cooling fan, dog snoring, fingers typing, birds chirping… that’s it.

John has a lo-fi house EP out on UltraBold Records as DJ CYBERDAD. It’s called ‘Emotional in Destin’. Stream it ➜ here, audio cassettes are available ➜ here.

Thanks John! If you want to get featured next, send a message here on tumblr or email soundrooms@icloud.com.

[mysticsparklewings]

Ink Dance

I feel like it's very ironic that a break from Inktober art on my front looks like the regular Inktober content from a lot of artists. Why is this a thing when I normally don't do ink drawings like this? First of all, I was just really in the mood to draw something princessy and romantic/sweet; Second of all, probably because of all the seasonal ink drawings going around, I had kind of an itch to give more a "classic" Inktober approach a try, especially since I didn't have any super strong ideas for a color palette once I had my romantic-type sketch ready to move to the next stages. Third of all, while I was thinking about where to take the sketch and possibly doing ink things, I watched a video by one of my favorite YouTubers where the challenge was to make a drawing with nothing but dots--aka Stippling. And from that, since I didn't really want to add anything else to the silhouette/shape of the skirt after I spent what felt like way too long trying to get it right, I thought maybe stipple-shading it would be a good way to make it look more interesting by making it look kind of glittery/sparkly. Now, if you've known me long enough, you may remember that I do not have a great relationship with the concept of stippling after a certain art project I had to do years ago. Problems in that scenario include The subject matter, the "twist," the size of the drawing, etc. This time, I'd be doing the stippling on my own terms on a significantly smaller scale, and I would not be limited to stippling and stippling alone. I was still apprehensive about the idea because as much as I liked the sketch I really didn't want to start stippling and end up totally hating the final product because of it. And a full disclosure that the actual act of stippling is still pretty tedious, but this time it was more bearable because I wasn't running on four hours of sleep in a brightly lit classroom with no other option for mental stimulation/distraction, repeatedly stabbing a gigantic piece of paper, unable to stop and take a break if necessary for fear of getting in trouble or not finishing the darn thing on time, but you can't just not pay attention and zone-out because then you're going to end up with dots in the wrong place and-- Do you see why I didn't like my high school art classes? Anyway. I did my best with the proportions/pose since I couldn't find a good reference for the exact pose I had in my head and I got tired of trying to find one (and I really didn't want to settle for something that was "close enough" but still not what I wanted). So I had to go largely with what I saw in my head and my best instincts. I also purposefully used the girl's dress skirt to hide the guys' legs because I didn't feel like trying to draw guy dress shoes. Or feet, for that matter. This was largely about just having fun with some cute imagery and ink techniques, not "let's draw perfectly accurate formal clothing including shoes." And you know, I think considering I had to make it up as I went along, it still turned out pretty well. After that, I transferred the sketch to a piece of mixed media paper and went on with the ink. I did the lines around the characters first, naturally, to set the boundaries of whatever ink techniques I ended up using, and then I started with the stippling. I think I started with the guy's jacket, but as I went I did end up doing so back-and-forth between the stippled areas to try and keep the shading and contrast relatively consistent. I had decided to do his jacket as stippled during planning for a little more visual interest since otherwise, he would've been a lot of just lines/hatching. It also makes the stippled dress look less out of place. (And also in real life I wish it were more common practice for guys to wear sequined formal jackets because I think they're just a cool fashion item.) After that, I moved on to doing their hair, which was a pretty obvious thing; the hatching/lines technique is just a really nice hair texture. Though getting it just right to leave the shine did take a little extra care. And really, other than his bowtie, the rest of the ink techniques were all hatching/lines, since those seemed like the best-suited textures for his pants, shirt, and her crown since those are all supposed to be relatively smooth items. Technically, the bowtie probably would be too in real life, but I like the slight difference in tone that cross-hatching it gives. Originally, I didn't really have a plan for their skin and that held true after I did everything else. I really didn't want to accidentally ruin it with too much texture or the shading being too harsh, so after some consideration, I just decided to use a few gray Copics just a little bit for shading, kind of like what happened on Roses in Your Eyes. It's barely noticeable, but I think it's just enough to get the idea across that they're not stark-white like the paper. The only bad thing about the markers is that the ink line for the guy's chin did end up smudging just a little, so in person, it almost looks like he has some stubble or a goatee that I hadn't planned on being there. I touched up a little on the scan, but it's still kinda there. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, and some might argue it really works since my style of drawing guys tends to lean more feminine as-is, it's just not what I was expecting. Also, since they're so small, I left their eyes alone as far as any further shading or coloring goes. It just didn't seem like a good idea to try anything in such a tiny space. And from far away you really don't notice the difference. Or at least I don't. And it was mostly unintentional, but I do like the contrast of how the guy's colors are mostly pretty dark, while the girl's are more mid and light-toned. After all, that was said and done though, it still felt like it was missing something. Thus, I couldn't help myself and once I'd thought about it, I ended up adding a red box behind the characters using a Stardust gelly roll pen. So in real life, it's also nice and glittery.  And I tried my hand at doing the white outline in reverse; instead of drawing it in with a white gel pen after the fact, I just colored in the box right up to the characters and tried to leave the space behind. I did have to touch up one or two spots where I got too close, but it was an interesting experiment that worked out pretty well. Red felt like a good color to go with because of how it contrasts with the black and white, and also I thought the whole "black white and red/read" joke was kinda funny. And yet still, it was missing something. I ended up going around one more time with a Pentel Sparkle Pop, one of the pens I had considered for the box behind them but nixed because it seemed too heavy/dark, and in the end, I think that was a good call. Together, the box and the outline with them a sort of grounding and add a nice pop of color without being too distracting. Overall, this was actually fairly simple and it turned out being much faster to polish off than I expected, probably largely because of the lack of color and not having to work about picking out the right individual values and getting the blending/shading smooth between different colors or having to build up layers over time. It may not be the greatest pen-and-ink drawing of all time, but considering this isn't something I normally go for, I'm pretty happy with it. And if I'm being completely honest, it was nice to take a break from my way of Inktober and make some art using more traditional methods in the spirit of the season. Speaking of which, I can hardly believe we've come so far already; there's only like a week left to go!   ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[twilightvolt]

I kinda was saving this for when i had the time to type everything out in one go, so let’s just get this over with before Smash drags me back into the depths of hell. XD

So, like, things happened back in 2017. a lot of things. graduated highschool, felt the winds of freedom as i stepped into the world of adulting and.....fell into a deep abyss of crippling depression as my life took a rather....wild turn to say the least. these feelings would linger and continue to haunt me throughout the majority of 2018. if you’d like to hear them or just need a refresher, my 2017 summary WITH that in depth description is on my DA that i no longer use cuz all i can think of when i go there is that year as a whole.

That’s not to say the year was cruddy, though. it really looked up by the end and it’s been one of the better years of my life as an artist. i’m about to go into that, so sit tight if you wanna actually read everything.

January: Arcus ~Collab with KLou

Things got heated at grandma’s after the holidays and we left in a huff cuz yeah, big fight the night before. it wasn’t something i ever wanna remember, but i gotta acknowledge it happened. thus began the struggles of living life as a nomad basically. From this point on until May, i won’t say much about our situation cuz honestly, time grinded to a halt after hotel life began.

February: Let’s Save the World

Believe it or not, this was a mobile drawing. i still didn’t have my tablet or my computer, so i tried using my phone for awhile. this was, of course, after i got Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth Hacker’s Memory for PS4, so this right here was my Dracomon babu Takumi, named after the former wearer of the goggles i equipped to him.

March: Let’s Kick It!

A brief moment of light as i fINALLY GOT MY TABLET BACK ONLINE! i felt like things were going to be different, we’d finally get somewhere and i felt like i could do anything again! this drawing, while super simple since it was just me around most of my current OCs at the time, was meant to represent me being back in business after around 4 or 5 months of being restricted to traditional work, a medium i, at the time, didn’t have much development in. (although, those months sure did help me learn how to draw that way in more than just sketching. so i’m actually kinda grateful i was stripped of the tools that i realize i may or may not have taken for granted.)

April: Spyro the Dragon

The Reignited Trilogy was announced and that’s why i drew that cuz literally everyone was doing Spyro fanart. i remember also doing a bunch of little doodles of other people’s characters in this same coloring style since some of the drawings i did before like the mobile drawing and my traditional work gave me inspiration on how to go about doing this new watercolor/marker like style that i started to experiment with throughout 2016 and ‘17.

May: Memories in Pieces

Remember how i said time grinded to a halt after hotel life began? yeah, this is where it reeeeaaally started to effect me. the days dragged on and blended together, we STILL could secure a home to house all of us and it just felt like my life was just....over. like, all the important stuff happened and now my story’s just done. it didn’t help that memories from the year before decided to come back and hang over me like an undying demon cloud. my anxiety and depression couldn’t have been higher. and yet i still managed to wake up. in fact, i woke up bright and early every day somehow. it felt like there wasn’t anything to believe in and yet....i still had hope that we could get through this. i knew deep down we weren’t gonna be completely out of luck.....but i still hurt at the same time.

I never uploaded this drawing anywhere, but this was, to put it simply, partly a new direction for a future project but also a vent art of sorts, representing the negative thoughts and regrets that never seemed to leave me alone no matter how much time has passed.

June: Digimon Atlas Adventures Ultima Vocal Collection

My second commission ever made since i opened that month. it was also the first time i really cel shaded along with made a logo since the year before. this day marked the turning point along with the end of my depression for the most part as the parents finally gave up and took...some of us down to Florida. a couple of siblings had jobs to keep up with, so they had to stay back in NY with.....eghh....grandma. to this day, i’m still hearing stories even if some of them eventually found their own place. i swear, the more i hear about what’s going on, the less i wanna go back to NY. >_>’

July: Drake ~Art Fight 2018

Oh yeah, we moved down to FL, but we were still in hotels IN FL, so there was change, but still pretty similar circumstances. we quickly found a place at some point, though. a cozy apartment complex that i’m happy to live in.

This is when Art Fight began....or rather when it was supposed to begin cuz they had technical difficulties for the first week or so. the day i revamped Drake for it was like i was saying hi to an old friend after parting ways years prior. it was a really fun experience that i’d gladly partake in again next year if i’ve got the time.

August: Gathers Under Night...

A very ambitious looking piece i did as an attack against a friend during Art Fight. it was my favorite attack i ever did and could quite easily be my favorite drawing from this year. after leaving hotel life behind me, i rarely, if ever, had war flashbacks or anxiety over the past. i felt like my life was finally getting somewhere again. for real this time. and that it did, thankfully.

September: Lost in Thought

A gift i made for a longtime friend and art senpai to try and cheer them up. i still look back at this and think “yeah....this is the style i’ve been longing to emulate. and i’ve finally achieved it.” granted, it took a lot from Kingdom Hearts II’s title screen, but where do you think i got my love of watercolor from?

At this point, i started to become a new person. i mean i already was considering the summer also involved me trying to become a little less total weeb at least in terms of music taste and also leaving my hoodie lifestyle for a good few months, but yeah. in fact, i think this was the month i buzzed off all my emo hair and really ended up resembling how i looked like back when i was little, anime cowlick and all.

October: The Lethal Protector

Oh yeah, Venom happened. i should’ve disliked that movie with all it’s flaws and unused potential, but instead i wholeheartedly stan it and i luv the portrayal of Eddie and Venom to the point where i forgive where it went wrong.

Yeah, i completely moved on from everything that tied me down at this point. i yeeted the past into the stratosphere and focused solely on what i wanted to do now. what my next move was. and i can thank these two losers for helping me stay focused on my craft. i also kept branching outside of Digimon. i wanted to be more than what i used to be.

November: My Favorite Ninja Frog

Didn’t do much this month, so all i had was a doodle of my starter partner for Pokemon Y. i never evolved him past Frogadier cuz i preferred him over Greninja. it was the tongue scarf, dude.

Why? ehh, it was most likely Warframe. i got into that game at some point cuz a friend persuaded me to do it. i don’t regret anything. i luv this game when i’m playing with friends.

December: Draw Your Roster Ultimate: The Winds of Reunion + Holiday Arcus

The Winds of Reunion cuz Wind Waker and the fact that everyone including Wolf, Young Link and even Pichu returned to Smash Bros. when Ultimate happened. this game cured my depression, cleared my skin and reignited my love for Starfox oddly enough since Starfox Zero AKA 64 with a new coat of paint and motion controls that weren’t as bad as you think didn’t exactly do it for me. i haven’t been so content with the way things are in a long time and i’m happy i finally got my hands on this treasure of a game. now, to wait for Kingdom Hearts III. ;w;

And now we finally get to the end of this long as heck recap. thank god Tumblr gives you unlimited characters, amirite? XD

Overall, this was a year of recovery and rebirth. it was a long and rough winding road, but in the end i think i’ve healed enough to finally get on with my life.

I’m not the same kid i used to be when i graduated highschool, and i’m definitely not the same kid i was when i was first starting out as an artist. my journey has been full of ups, downs and all arounds and it was all a much needed learning experience. even if i felt like i was suffering at times.

My future is mine to decide, and i’m not letting anything stand in my way again.

For the future i want to believe in.

[ghostswithoutvibe]

Monster (S.T.)

“The Druid’s Watch”

November 1, 1984

“Rise and shine!” You pulled the blue pillow tightly over your ears as Hopper’s voice boomed through the small cabin. You had been having a great dream. One where you and Eleven had a day at the quarry with the boys. Lucas was splashing Dustin, Will was quietly sketching Eleven, and Mike…

After a few moments of silence, you had almost fallen back to sleep until the police chief’s voice called out again.

“I guess you guys don’t want breakfast! Got some eggs, some toast, some Eggos, hey, even a few Snickers bars…”

At the mention of the chocolate bar you shot up in your bed, looking over to see Eleven already up in her bed. The mention of your favorite foods were sure to get you up.

You two looked at each other for a second, before racing out of your shared bedroom. Your sister not far behind as you ran into the small kitchen, both sliding past Hopper as he stood with a plate of bacon.

“Good morning to you, too.” Hopper mumbled to himself, but he had a light smile on his face as he watched the two young girls sit down at the small table against the wall.

You quickly grabbed a Snickers bar, tearing the wrapping to shreds before biting down, the warm chocolate melting in your mouth. As you reached for another, Hopped shooed your hand away.

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head as he sat down on your left, “No more chocolate until you have some fruit, you ain’t getting diabetes on my watch.”

You glared at the man lightly before taking a bite of your eggs, Eleven laughing at the frown on your face.

“That goes for you too.” Hopper turned towards Eleven, who had two Eggos in her mouth already, “There are other foods besides Eggos, you know?”

As you reached for a piece of toast, Hopper caught a glimpse of the watch that rested on your left wrist.

“Still wearing the watch, huh?”

You shrugged at the question, you knew he already knew the answer, “It makes me happy.”

Hopper nodded. He knew that you missed Mike. And Mike missed you, the kid came to the station everday after school to ask the cheif if he had any news on your whereabouts.

It was just a few days short of a year. Hopper knew that you wanted to see Mike, and that you were getting impatient.

“I know kid.” He took a sip of his coffee, “I know.”

It was silent for a few seconds until Hopper spoke up once again, feeling the tension in the room.

“Hey, how about I get off early today, hmm? I’ll pick up some movies, some candy so we can rot our teeth out, maybe even some music, and we can sit around and chill.”

“Chill?” Eleven repeated the word.

“Yeah,” Hopper scratched his neck, “That’s your word of the day. Chill, it means to forget about everything and just relax.”

“Chill.” You repeated the word, trying it out on your tongue before nodding at Hopper, “I want to chill.”

“Good. Alright.” He then cast a glance down at his own watch, “Shit. I gotta go. I’ll be back at nine fifth-teen, okay.”

Eleven nodded, “Nine-one-five.”

Hopper rolled his eyes as he grabbed his hat from the coat stand, “Yeah, nine-one-five, sure. You guys know the rules and I’ll see you later.” And with that, he left, the door closing behind him.

Eleven locked the door using her powers before turning back to her food. You smiled at your sister, reaching for another Snickers bar.

- - - - - - - - - -

The voices from the television crackled, causing you to glance over at Eleven, who was intensely watching her show. Your eyes then slipped back to the old Dr. Suess book in your hands, eyes taking in the pictures with swirling colors.

“I love you.” You heard Eleven say along with the tv, glancing up at the screen to see a man and a woman holding hands. It reminded you of something,

“Mike.” You mumbled to yourself as you thought back to last year when you sat in the Wheeler’s basement.

“This,” Mike held a grey figure in his hands, “Is me.”

You looked from him to the piece in his hand, your brows pushed up in confusion, “Mike?” You asked cautiously as you pointed to the piece, it didn’t look like Mike.

The boy only nodded, his hair bouncing, “Well, it’s a Paldin. That’s what I am.”

“Pal-Paldin?” You repeated his word, stumbling a bit as you tried to follow the motion of his lips.

He nodded, before pointing to even more pieces, “Lucas is our Ranger, Dustin is our Bard, and Will was-is our Cleric.”

You glanced down at the pieces spewed across the board, before reaching over and plucking a piece from the pile.

The piece was small in your fingers. It was detailed with sticks and twigs intertwining together at the top, almost as a crown.

“This?” You held the object out to Mike, who quickly looked away from where he had been studying your features.

He carefully took the piece from your hand, squinting as he looked over it, “This is a Druid.”

“Druid?”

“Yeah, they have really cool powers and help the group defeat the monsters. Kinda like you.”

You blinked, looking at the piece, then glancing down at yourself, “Me?”

Mike smiled, holding the piece out to you. You looked down at the piece in his hand, slowly reaching out and wrapping your own hand around his, the piece held between the two of you.

“Yeah, you’re our Druid.”

You snapped out of the memory as a quick pain flashed through your head causing you to wince lightly. Eleven glanced over at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Mike?” She asked, though she knew it was, he always tried to talk to you after he had gotten home from school.

He used to try be using his Super-Com and going through all the channels looking for you, but recently he had switched to trying to reach you the way you used to reach him.

When you and Eleven were with Mike after you escaped the Bad Place, you would often talk to Mike in his mind. The link that you two had created was still left over as you occasionally used it to check in on him.

You nodded over at her, biting your lip softly, not looking away from the radio as you focused on transmitting Mike’s call to the set in the corner.

It was quiet for a few seconds until the radio crackled, and suddenly the voice you longed to hear spoke out.

“Ten?” You had to hold your breath. No matter how many times he called you always felt this way. You could imagine him, sitting in his basement, board pieces and comics everywhere, the super-com in his hands. His hair shaggy around his head, bouncing as he moved. The light dust of spots covering his cheeks and nose.

His voice had changed a little since last year, it had gotten a few octaves deeper, higher than Hopper’s but lower than his sister, Nancy’s.

“It’s me, Mike. It’s day 352. 4:07. Happy late Halloween I guess. Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I, we were all the Ghostbusters. They’re from a movie, a really good movie, I think you’d like it.” He trailed off for a minute, and you inched closer to the radio, itching to hear his soft voice again, “We got a bunch of candy, I got a whole pillowcase worth! It’s a pretty good haul, but you can have all the Snickers, there are even some full sized ones in here from Loch Nora.” A smile graced your face at the mention of your favorite food, glad that Mike had remembered.

Mike let out a sigh causing your light smile to drop, “Ten, if you…or Eleven, if you guys are out there please say something, anything.” His voice wobbled as it collided with static, “Or a sign. I just-I just need to know you’re okay.”

He sounded broken, so desperate. It was like everything depended on him knowing that you were still out there. All you wanted to do was hug him so close that you were able to put his shattered pieces back together.

His voice was playing through the radio, but like always it bounced around in yiur mind. Lately, Mike’s thoughts seemed to get sadder and sadder, even when he was with Dustin and Lucas. His mind was beginning to become colder and darker, not the radiating warmth that you used to know. You were worried.

You knew that Hopper had told you that you weren’t supposed to talk to Mike, that it was dangerous, but you couldn’t help it. You had to let him know that you were okay. He had to know that you hadn’t left him, that he shouldn’t worry. That you were still here.

“Michael.” You whispered, a tear falling down your cheek. You hadn’t realized you had said it outloud instead of in your mind, but either way you knew he had heard you.

“Ten? Teddy?” Mike’s voice was light, disbelief laced with it. An automic smile flew over your own face as he used the nickname Dustin had given you the day after they found you in the woods.

“Ten is that you?”

You nodded, knowing that he couldn’t see you, “Yes.”

A warm laugh of relief flooded through the radio, and you could picture Mike’s head thrown back, his chocolate eyes sparkling.

“Ten. Where are you? Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll come get you!”

Eleven watched you with concernd eyes. She knew how much you missed Mike, but she also knew the Bad Men were still out there, looking for you. And if they found you two, well, she didn’t want to imagine how long you two would be locked in the Bad Room.

You and your sister made eye contact, she slowly shook her head. Your mouth opened to argue but you stopped yourself, you knew she was right. You wanted Mike to find you, you really did. But you couldn’t. He had to stay safe. You would only put him in danger, you couldn’t let the Bad Men get him.

“No.” It took everything you had to push that single word out.

“What?” Mike whispered from the other end of the line.

“Not safe, Mike.”

Mike’s voice grew, causing you to bite your lip as you held back your tears, “I don’t care if it’s not safe! You have to come home! I need you!” His voice then went quiet, “I-I love you, Ten.”

You swallowed, you felt like your heart had stopped at Mike’s words, the same words from the tv. When you had asked Eleven what those words meant she had only shrugged, before turning back to her show.

You then asked Hopper, he went red before explaining that it meant having very strong feelings. You had made “Love” your word of the day, day: 125.

If you had strong feelings for anybody, you knew they must have been for Mike. He made you feel something you had never felt before. He made you feel safe.

“I love you, Mike.” The words sounded broken as you weren’t quite sure how to push the words out correctly. Mike didn’t care, in that moment he could of sworn that his heart had stopped.

You were alive.

You were alive and you loved him.

The girl of his dreams loved him.

“But you have to stay safe.” Those words made him come spiraling back to reality as he pulled the comm closer to his mouth. His eyes were filled with concern, the look of hope from seconds before quickly turning to anxiousness.

He gupled, his voice dropping to a whisper as he felt like his voice had left him, “Wh-what do you mean?”

Silence.

“Teddy!” His voice grew louder, it cracking as he stood to his feet, “Ten, what do you mean?”

Eleven could see you had tears in your eyes. She watched you with a pitiful look, her own sister was hurting, and there was nothing she could do bur watch.

“I’m sorry, Mike.” The words came out in shaky words. Tears already coming down your cheeks and dripping onto your flannel.

Mike felt helpless. It was like you were dissapering from him like that day in the school all over again. His whole body felt on the verge of crumbling down, silent tears falling from his eyes as he croaked out,

“Ten, please-“

You sniffed, wiping the tears from your face as best as you could as you stared directly down at the radio.

“Stay safe, Micheal.”

Then, with a blink of your eye, you pushed yourself out of Mike’s mind, leaving you with nothing but a bloody nose.

Posted On: February 5, 2018

Taglist: @theotherschuyler

[arcanestarseeker]

Lair review for @firestar-fr !!! under the cut!

I of course started with the first dragon in your lair, and that’s Crisis. He’s a lovely imp, I especially love those runes (even if they’re hard to see, the horns are lovely) and that lovely accent!! I read all his lore and I like how he became shade corrupted trying to protect a young hatchling, and then exiled himself. It shows that he’s really a selfless dragon, and is willing to put others before himself. I love that you used the shadow sprite’s goop and darkness to match the shade- it’s good that he has a companion who has the same struggles he does, so that he has support. His outfit is lovely- all gilded and gold, which adds to the whole “Paladin, knight of Justice” thing he’s got going on. And the lore sword is super cool ahhhh. that’s super badass honestly. Also- all his art is just lovely!! (though one of your images is broken?) I love him though, and I’m very proud of him for getting past his corruption

Next up is Cuda! She has lavender runes that match Crisis! That’s so cute haha. Oh, and she’s got shade touched blood in her! The origin of her shade is very different though, since she inherited it from her dad. Do she and Crisis try to work past their shade issues together?  He’s got his under control, but you don’t mention whether she has any issues from it, just that she has it (and cool teleporting powers that she got from her mom.) I love that she’s a dancer, and how she has the lovely rainbow accent and the matching rainbow silks. They look so nice on her! How does she make her specters? Shade magic? Elemental magic? magic mom teleporting powers? It’s a super cool power, I’m just curious as to how she got it :0c I love her art, especially the gijinka pieces- she’s a buff dancer! I would go to see one of her dances.

I clicked onto “Josh” in her bio and oh DAMN that boy has a light sprite!!! very fancy >:0 I’m working my way to a light sprite right now and it’s a very long term goal- so impressive! And a fancy boy for this fancy sprite! I like his beautiful accent and just how well it matches his tert :0 He’s a big techno party boy, and he kinda seems like a raver with the crazy bright pink electronic patterns. What sort of stuff does he have to fight? Since he’s a DJ and Dancer, that’s not the kind of dragon who you imagine fighting- and whough he’s clearly trained in it, it makes me curious as to who or what he DOES fight :0 Man you’ve got so much lovely art in your lair- I love his gijinka art too! The lovely neon glowey eyes he’s got going on, and all the techno colors. I really love the third one too that’s so neon and full of energy! What a lovely dude. I also clicked on his mate but found that he was in another lair. I’m guessing you guys are lore buddies? That’s super cool! I love my gay (or bi) party son

Pixel caugh my eye next! And ohhh I love what you’re doing with this lovely Starfall skin :0 It’s so cool that she’s an arcane construct with missiles and how there’s a super high level android and AI maker in the lair who’s made this little family of androids. (oh, who’s mom is in a shadow lair again!! ahh lore partners are always really cool to see) Her bio is so short though, so I’m really curious about seeing more about her relationship with her family, both her siblings and her dad the constructor, especially. AIs often have pretty strong feelings towards their creator and about being created, so I’m curious as to how much personality she has (especially since she’s made of magic! that adds a lot of potential for how much autonomy she has, which is also something I’m curious about- since she’s a living weapon, does that mean that she is controlled by other forces in the clan sometimes when she needs to attack, or perhaps that she has a cold and calculating robot demeanor so hat she is always ready to attack? Or maybe she’s just a really sweet robot who can also attack really quick haha. Sorry to toss so many questions at you, but she’s really cool and I’m super curious! I’m gonna check out her family next :0

Next up is Pilot! And ohh, another sprite!! Very fancy. I love all the brass steampunk stuff he’s wearing, it’s very “talented but obsessive” inventor-y. I like that he makes music boxes- that’s very specific but in a really cool way. I also like that he got started making androids (as I’m guessing he made the son mentioned in his bio? We’ll see when I go to check him out) And how he now has these two android daughters who love and take care of their dad, which is really sweet. I’m glad that he’s the kind of guy who takes the time to repair robot dragons he finds broken down by the wayside. It’s also a really neat detail that he can’t fly, especially since he’s a spiral, and it’s hard to imagine them not flying. Does he ever get rides from his android daughters? That’d be really cute. Also, that mysterious obsidian tablet he has definitely caught my interest- even more so since you have art of it. A lore event for the future? Super cool. All his art is nice, as, well, and dang you’ve got a lot of sketches by Kaial. Very nice. Now I’m off to go see his other Daughter, the first one!

Next up- Cherry! I love using the surgestream coat to make her look even more robotic on top of cool mechanical accent. I like how the accent has a few places that are broken, it makes it seem like she’s been repaired as much as she can be by Pilot, since he’s still learning bout Androids. Maybe he’ll even be able to fix up those exposed wires someday :0 It’s also really interesting that her speech box is broken, especially since her dad is a music box maker- maybe he could replace her speech box with a music box, so she could sing? that would be super cool ahhh. I like that she’s studying how to be a mechanic herself, too. Maybe she’ll be able to make a robot children of her own some day after she and Pilot learn more about how to build androids, which would be super cool!! She’s also such a lovely triple, and in purple, too!! not really what you’d normally think of when you think Android, but I think she’s lovely!!

Next up is Oblivion! And he’s another android, just as I suspected haha. He seems to have to most advanced body of the three, as he has no visible metal or broken bits, instead just has those big and prominent circuits that are all over his obsidian hide. And he’s connected to that obsidian tablet, just like I thought! He’s a super cool AI idea, something lost to time by bad luck or a decision to destroy it, perhaps? and it also seems like something you could have a whole group of dragons based off of in the future, this collection of advanced AI who all have circuits in different colors :0c I really like that he has a body made out of both old and new tech, and I bet that helps Pilot see what else he should do in teh future as he works on more android tech, and he might be able to use the old tech on Cherry and Pixel in the future. It’s also really cool that this weapon has developed a conscious and is working on becoming a good, well rounded dragon instead of just a living weapon. They’re a good android family

Ok, last is Marshia. Her apparel caught my eye!! I love her unicorn guise a lot, and the way that it really makes her pop!!!. You can see just the tiniest bit of her mask under there, which is nice, though the smoke is probably the part of it you wanted the mask for haha. and it makes sense, she looks lovely with it! I also love that Ethereal Entourage, that’s perfect for a seer. I like that she’s blind and can instead see the future. The flowerfall is lovely, and I think the wing piece looks really nice on her, too! I think her armour is an interesting choice :0 Does she feel like she needs to defend herself at all? :0c i’d be super curious to find out why she feels like she needs it. or maybe she jsut thinks it looks good ahha. What does she do with her visions of the future? It’s really interesting for a clan to have- can she control it or does she just get random visions? there’s lots of good options for lore for a cool seer like her.

Cat????? Cat. om nom fish. mmmm munch. hehe this is actually a really cute use of an inisibility cloak, and I especially like the tasty fish familiar haha. does the cat live around the lair? that’d be cute. I just couldn’t resist click on it haha

thank you so much, and enjoy!!! :D

[ficdirectory]

Blink (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

 Jesus doubted he had ever felt so relieved to be home as he did on Sunday night.  To be in his own space, with stuff the way he needed it?  Just walking into his room made him feel all overwhelmed.  Truth was, he was still super out of it.  The car ride from hell had totally spent his energy, and he crashed as soon as he possibly could.

Monday morning, first thing, he’s in Dr. H’s office, in person.  He still doesn’t feel like himself.  He still has a ton of excess energy going and has a hard time sitting down, because sitting down means they’ll actually have to talk about everything.

 Dr. H. is patient and gives him a bunch of options for where to sit, like she always does.  When he sits on the floor, she sits there, too, across from him.

 She has him get grounded and breathe.  It’s different because he can’t press his feet down.  Instead she has him feel the carpet under his hands.  Study it.  Tell her about it.  How it feels.  What color it is.  Then, she asks him if he’s ready to look at her.

 Jesus does.  Doesn’t check in with himself at all, to see if he actually is ready.  Just makes himself do it.  

 “How are you feeling right now?  Can you tell me?”

 “Fine.”

 “Tell me about fine, Jesus.  What makes you fine?”

 “Not upset.”

 “I see.  We touched base quite a few times during the past week.  It sounds to me like you have every reason to be upset.  What do you think?”

 Jesus shrugs.  Wraps his arms around raised knees.  Laces his fingers together, so he’s holding his own hands.  He’s down a bracelet.  Can see the scars from chains there.

 “I need to hear you, Jesus, because speaking out loud helps you stay present.  What are you unsure of right now?  When I asked whether you thought you were entitled to feel upset, you shrugged.  Do you know why?”

 “I guess.”

 “Why is that?” Dr. H. prompts, reaching behind her for a bottle of purple glitter which she sets between them.

 Jesus ignores it.  He feels so numb.  So empty.  So not human.  He’d thought coming home would fix all that, but it didn’t.  He’s still lost in his head ever since that dude at the airport. And the bags in the car.  And everything before that, too.  It’s too much to take.  Better to shut it all down.

 Dr. H. offers him a bottle of water.  A blanket.  To sit in an actual chair.

 Jesus shakes his head.

 “I’m feeling concerned, Jesus,” Dr. H. tells him.

 He meets her eyes.  (Good.  She should be concerned.  He is all messed up and if she can’t help him then Jesus doesn’t know what that’s gonna mean for him.)

 “Okay,” he tells her flatly.

 “I’d like you to stand up when you’re ready, and choose a chair or the couch to sit on.  I’d like you to bring the blanket with you.”

 Slowly, Jesus stands up, bending down to pick up the blanket.  He sits in the chair he usually occupies.  The blanket’s balled in his hands.

 They go through grounding and breathing again.  But Jesus is restless.  The last thing he wants to do is feel his body right now.

 “I can see you’re struggling right now,” Dr. H. offers sympathetically.  “I know traveling is very difficult for you.  Do you want to share with me anything in particular you found hard?”

 Feeling human.  Jesus says it in his head, no sweat.  But saying it out loud?  It’s like all his words are blocked off.

 She hands him paper.  Markers.  Pencils.  Pens.  He pulls the paper closer and picks out a pencil.  Loses himself in sketching.  When he’s done, Jesus takes it all in:  LAX dominates the page with the airport security dude inside.  He’s not obvious.  But Jesus knows he’s there.  The plane is in another section.  The bags going around on the luggage conveyer.  The car in another section.  At the very bottom, from the back, there Jesus is.  He’s small.  Like in one of those Where’s Waldo books, except he’s basically a nondescript nobody from the back.

 Jesus pushes the sketch toward Dr. H.

 “May I pick this up?  Look at it?”

 Jesus nods.

 She does and takes her time studying it.  After several minutes, she asks if they can talk about what she sees in the picture.

 He nods again.

 “Talk to me about LAX,” Dr. H. begins.

 “I didn’t like it.”

 “What specifically, Jesus?  Can you name one thing?”

 “That it’s in LA.”

 “That makes sense.  Have you been back there since?”

 He clears his throat.  Shakes his head no.

 “I can see why that would be very difficult.  Do you want to talk any more about LA?”

 “No.”

 “Okay.  I respect that.  Can you tell another thing you found difficult?”

 “Luggage.”

 “Yes, I can imagine.  I remember from our previous conversations that it’s triggering for you.  How did you cope with seeing the luggage?”

 “Pearl.”  Dr. H. waits.  So eventually, Jesus can say more.  “She texted and like sent a video.  So I could have something else to focus on.  But then the luggage was in the car.  And I had to be in it.”

 “Sounds very disconcerting.”

 Jesus nods absently.  “I freaked out.  Felt like it was happening again.  That He was taking me away in That Car.  Pearl helped again, but I still don’t feel safe.”

 “First, you are safe here, Jesus.  You’re safe with me.  And when we’re done, Lena is going to be here to pick you up and take you home again.  Tell me about how Pearl helped.”

 “She talked to me.”

 “What kinds of things did she say?”

 “Just that she understood, I think?”

 “That sounds like it would be very affirming.  It helps to have friends who can relate to what you’re going through.”

 “How did you do in the car this morning?  On the way here?”

 “Okay.  There weren’t any bags.”

 Dr. H. and Jesus talk a little longer, but it had taken him so long to sit, and to start to open up that they really didn’t have much time to discuss stuff at all.  They don’t talk about the dude at airport security.  Not about his giant backpack full of food, or the feeling that he still needs it, on some deep level, even though he has access to food way easier at home.  They don’t talk about Isaac or grief.

 It’s how Jesus wants it.  He’s not ready for all that stuff to come up yet.  He can barely deal with talking about riding in the car with the luggage without feeling like he’s riding in the car in the luggage.

 Before he leaves, Jesus crumples up the drawing.  Then rips it into tiny pieces.  He doesn’t want Dr. H. analyzing it while he’s gone and picking out the dude at the airport or any of the rest.  She says he has the right to have a say over what happens to his work in here.  It helps, a little, to remember he has rights.

 Mama’s there to pick him up.  Frankie’s already at preschool, so it’s just the two of them.  Brandon’s piano music is playing and Jesus is just kinda looking out the window, trying not to think.  Because if he thinks, then he’s gonna feel sick or panicky or something.

 --

 Pearl has been up since 3 AM.  She barely slept after seeing Jesus in such a state last night.  Since it’s obviously bad manners to text someone in the middle of the night, Pearl does her best to hold off.  First, she tries to calm her racing heart.  Her swerving thoughts.

 She needs to do something, but journaling just feels too real right now.  So Pearl settles for an intermediate step, of sorts.  She pulls out notebook paper, and writes a letter to Jesus, trying to channel her zillions of questions and concerns into reassurance that he can hold in his hand:

 Monday January 5, 2015

 Jesus,

 I wanted to be sure you know that it’s okay.  What happened in the car.  Calling me.  All of it.  I know it probably feels everything BUT okay, but it is, I promise.

 I hope getting home has helped cement that you’re safe.  If you need me, please let me know however you can:  by letter (Old-People style), text, call, Skype, whatever.  I just want to be here.  I want to know that you are okay.  And especially if you’re not okay.

 I want you to know that what I saw last night doesn’t change anything.  It doesn’t make me feel differently about you.  Vulnerability is not the same as weakness.  Trauma is not a character flaw.  You are still my favorite person to drink hot chocolate with.  To hang out here with.  To just be with.

 Trust your instincts and try with everything you have not to shut down.  I know it’s so tempting especially after your awful trip home, but I have confidence in you.  You are capable of so much.  You are worth so much.  Please believe me.

 If you need ANYTHING at all, please let me know, and I will do my best to help.

 Love, Pearl

 Before she seals the envelope, Pearl tucks in a piece of dark chocolate and raspberry Ghirardelli, still wrapped.  She figures nothing will speak to Jesus’s sense of self worth quite as deeply as food will.  She labels the chocolate with a piece of masking tape on the back and the words: Eat Me, Jesus.  Pearl hopes it won’t melt in the California heat.

 Pearl hasn’t gotten in touch with Pav or Char in what seems like forever.  She misses them, but she also feels too raw to really talk.  Especially because a lot of what she would want to discuss has to do with Jesus, and she is in no place to talk about his business with her friends.

 So, she talks about him while she knits, knowing Gracie’s here, and always listening:

 “I really miss him, girl.  And I barely slept last night so I’m all emotionally unstable today.  It’s just--  You’re never ready to see a friend like that, are you?  I don’t want him to feel badly about it, which is why I wrote the letter, but I hope, in the meantime, he’s doing okay.”

 Gracie cocks her head a little, as if to say, Are you doing okay?

 “Okay, what’s with the attitude?  I gave you an egg this morning.”

 Gracie licks her hand.

 Pearl sighs.  “Obviously, I’m not okay.  The first person I let close to me in years is gone and I have no friends.  Plus, he’s struggling and, like it or not, that means I’m struggling more, too.  I want to be okay for him.  I want to be okay for me.  But I don’t know if I can do it alone…”

 Just then, her gaze falls on her own wrist.  On the bracelet Jesus had given her.  She’s not alone at all.  That’s right.

 She texts Jesus:

 How are you?

 Pearl gets lost in knitting.  In walking Gracie.  In having lunch.  And before she knows it, two hours have passed since she sent the text to Jesus.

 No response.  And it’s definitely late enough that he should have received it.  Unless he’s sleeping in, which could be.  He’s probably exhausted enough.

 She takes a slow deep breath like his therapist always had him doing.  Goes over to the swing and tries to relax.  She’s not gonna freak out about how he’s doing until she has a reason to.

 Gracie’s here, as always, a steadying presence and a reminder that she does need to take care of herself first.  If she doesn’t take care of herself, she won’t be able to be there for Jesus at all.

 Pearl closes her eyes.  Imagines her letter bridging the distance between them.  She tries not to think of Frank’s cabin, standing empty now, next door.

[g-amzees]

Love and some Verses

Title: Love and some Verses Ship: Gamzee Makara ♥ Tavros Nitram, (a ton of) Other Characters & Ships Chapter: 1/? (i’m solely going to post the first one on tumblr) AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10519707/chapters/23220186

Your name is Gamzee Makara and... You look up from your stencil, chewing on your favourite pencil, your dark, hazel eyes annoyed at your black haired friend and her shorter, blonde partner.

"Motherfuck. Rose colored roses. Where's that all up and coming from?"

"Gamz, I think it is pretty obvious where that is coming from," Kanaya replied, giving the girl standing right next to her a heart-warming smile.

The tall woman thrusts her phone in front of your pale skinned face, with a small, slightly pixelated picture of the flowers showing on the screen. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you grab the phone, leaning back in your worn, creaky chair and study the roses as you just lit up a cigarette. You turn the huge smartphone, trying to zoom in the photograph which only blurs and pixelates even more.

"This picture motherfuckin' sucks. I can't draw anything with this fucking lack of detail," you exclaim, letting out a loud and exasperated sigh.

Kanaya's narrowing her eyes at you, fingers curled up in her green-colored bangs, letting out a sharp breath, "Look. I know it may not be a picture of high quality and I deepy apologize for that, but you will do this for me, Gamzee. I want that rose-tattoo, or else, I may hunt you with a chainsaw."

"Woah, shit. Relax, Kan. I didn’t say I wouldn't. I only said that picture motherfuckin' sucks. I need something with more detail, 's all. God dammit."

"Excellent. You will figure something out, I am sure you will. Rose and I need to go now, though. We have an appointment with the wedding planner, and later we will have dinner with John and Jade," she smiles deviously, rushes to the front door of the tattoo studio and leaves with a short, half-hearted wave.

Rose only following her fiancée in slow steps, "Sorry, Gamz. She is a bit stressed out, lately. The wedding and all. She really meant no offense."

"None taken, Sis, even tho she's a piece of work. Have all the miracles today, okay ?", you smile at her, all forgiving, trying to hide your annoyance.

She smiles back at you, all wide and happy, "Thank you ! .. By the way," she starts, pointing towards the big window in the front of your studio, "There is a small flower-shop across the street, if that's of any interest in that matter," as she was waving good-bye at you and steps out of the door aswell, following her beloved to the car parking infront of the tattoo-studio, and with that, the girlfriends are gone.

Growling in annoyance again and letting out a huge sigh, you lean back in your chair, focusing on the sketch-block again, needing to finish the last details on a tattoo for a client, that was arriving in about an hour. You soon lost focus though, and began to stare through the big window absent-mindedly, wondering if the flower shop could provide Kanya's flowers. A real one would be perfect, for detail and every possible angle. Any rose would do, but a rose-colored one would be ideal. How expensive would flowers even be ? Now you would have to pay for a flower, only to design one of your godly tattoos for one of your best friends, you wouldn't get paid for. That definitely would have to count as your wedding present ! At least you hopes it does. Rubbing your black curls, you shake your head violently, needing to push the new tattoo idea away. You need to finish up the current project on the paper in front of you, the piece bigger than average by far, meant as full sleve-tattoo just like you got one yourself. Just yours is more gorgeous by far. This piece is going to consume your time for the rest of the day until closing time, assuming that the client could handle a long session with no need to cancel it early on. (The doubt is on your side with this one though.)

But only then, maybe tomorrow, you could go and check out the flower store for said motherfucking flower.

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are ready for the day. You entered the small store early this day, the air that's smelling like rainbows fills your lungs immediately and pulls a small smile from your lips. You do love your work at the store. You love the scent, and you love the colors, and you just really like flowers. You usually only works part-time, but since you're currently on your semester break, you switched to full-time for the rest of vacation. You always liked mother nature in all it's ways, that's why you decided to go to university to become a veterinarian in the first place, and thus you really enjoyed every day you were working in the little flower-shop.

You could also use the additional money, a students life ain't a cheap one, granted. You turn on the lights and prepare to open up the store within the next hour with a big yawn.

You were tired. You had talked with one of your best friends on the phone for too long last night, the older and taller one trying to convince you to join him going to some weird convention about robotics, again. The last time wasn't all too great already. There were some things that definitely were cool. But overall, you were just bored, sighted in annoyance and greatly disliked the hole convention, not really being into technology. Everything that's beyond a TV, a smartphone, a laptop and maybe a gaming-console exceeds itself from your comprehension. You had a hard time talking yourself out of that trip, but in the end you could convince him to take Nepeta with him instead. She was his number one best friend - even though the age-gap between them was ridiculous, him being 30 and her being 19 - but you wouldn't judge. Friendship knows no age, after all. She also was more into his technology-stuff than you were, more into any of his stuff to be honest. You two had very different opinions in general, and even though you disliked when you and your friends (general speaking!) disagreed on things, it happened more often than not. Shaking your head, forcing the thoughts of Equius away, you went to put your stuff away behind the counter and grabbed your bright orange apron, pulling it over your head, always cautious not to ruin your dark-brown mohawk. Keeping it in place took a lot of effort - and hairspray - and you wouldn't like it if you ruined it by accident.

You decided to start to refill your water sprayer and your watering can, first. Then you gradually worked around the shop, moving from one plant to the next. You let your strong, long fingers gently caress the flower petals of each pot, smiling and whispering to them, humming them sweet little melodies as you groomed and watered them sufficiently. You knew you looked kinda out of place. You were tall and dark-skinned, muscled, had broad shoulders and big hands, your body not really built for being a florist - with all those fragile pots and plants, but you loved everything about the place and you couldn't help but smile and just feel happy, as off as it may sound.

You already started working at the flower shop 10 years ago, when your were only 15, to make some extra pocket money. Your dad tried to provide you what you needed, but you were out with your friends a lot, and your appetite was huge. You felt bad at taking your dad's hard earned money so casually. You had a black hole in your stomach, after all, that's what all your friends used to say, anyway. You took double, or even triple the amount they would get. But you were atheletic ever since, and sports just makes you hungry. Instead of eating less, because why would you pffff, you had decided to find a job, work a little and eat just the same as ever, a win-win situation. You had just accidentally got your job in the little shop when you were walking by one day and grabbed a heavy pot from the oldish owner as he had nearly dropped it. You had helped him out for a few hours, had a very nice and comforting chat and in the end, he offered you the part-time job and you gladly accepted upon thanking the old guy. After that it had all gone downhill as you had realized you truly loved taking care of all the colorful, little plants at the shop, your mind absorbing the different types of flowers and the care they required pretty quickly, something that barely ever happened in school, even though you have been interested in biology before. (You still tried to do good with all your grades, your goal was to become a veterinarian ever since your were a little kid.) As the owner of the shop passed away - shortly after you entered university - and his daughter Terezi started to run the buisness, she decided that she would gladly keep you as her florist since you were a great help and knew everything that needed to be done. You helped her run the place ever since, you two became good friends even and now, with the hard work from the both of you, your shop was rated the top privately owned flower shop in the whole city. You two were pretty damn proud, even though you didn't own the place. It was a good feeling that all your efforts showed great results.

After you are done watering all the plants, you open the register, checking through orders and deliveries for the day. You suddenly hear a light knock on the glass door. You check your watch and frown, the shop not opening for another 25 minutes. Normally, you would refuse to open, but as the knocking came harder and louder, you were actually starting to worry whoever was there was going to crack the glass. What if someone was in need of actual help .. ? Sighing in annoyance you walk around the counter, head to the front door, unlocking and pulling it open.

"Uh..Good morning ? Can I help you ?"