#freehanded all those hands which is pretty cool

[quirkle2]

hands in my wip woooo

[finished art dump]

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

could do better..

I was an indifferent student. All the way through primary & high school, my typical report card was “talks too much” or “could do better” which frustrated Mum & Dad, who’d both been stellar students. I countered with “if I’ve never done better, how do these teachers know that this isn’t ALREADY my better?!” Teen sass aside, at 15 I knew was already on the runway to adulthood and would need to get a career airborne within a few years. There was only one thing I was halfway good at.. and started to wonder if I actually could DRAW for a living. 

Year 9 Parent/Teacher Night program.

Ever since I was small, I’d had adults leaning down to my child’s-eye-level asking; “what do you want to be when you grow up?” When I answered “I wanna be an animator” at age 8 it was oh-so cute, but it seemed screwy at 15, when nobody thought that job even existed in Australia. Unlike the USA, countries with small populations don’t have all industries (which is why Fiji doesn’t have astronauts). So, in my mid teens I started to think seriously about what job I possibly could do.. My best-guess career by the time I was 15 was a signwriter/illustrator. 

My earliest illustrations printed anywhere were done for school. From year 7 onwards, I eagerly drew art for pamphlets, program guides for school plays, banners for athletics & swimming carnivals, and cartoons for the school magazine. I also submitted art to fan mags, and even got a few cartoons into the local newspaper too. It is nutty how much pleasure it gave me simply to see something I’d drawn printed in a ‘proper’ publication. 

Window decorations for a pub.

So people had already been using my drawings for years, but for FREE. Getting paid to draw was the tricky part. Perhaps the first time I got money for my drawings was at 15, when my friend Stephen’s uncle paid me to design t-shirt graphics for him. He had a screen printing business & t-shirt shop, and I did logos and illustrations for local sports teams and so on.. Around that same time, I was paid to paint Christmas window displays at a pub where I worked after school (as a cleaner). Those early PAID illustration opportunities gave me hope that it might be viable career one day.

Sign-writing was a job I seriously considered. Freehanded calligraphic hand-painted signs were much more common in those days. Even today, pubs & cafes often have beautifully illustrated & hand drawn menus in chalk on huge blackboards, and I've always admired them. In year 10, as part of the work experience program, I spent two weeks as general dog’s-body for the graphic designer at the local university, preparing myself to be a sign-writer/illustrator. He was a one-man department doing graphics & illustration for the university’s printed publications, campus signage, and theatre department. Which sounds cool, but for two weeks I did all the stuff he didn’t want to do. Fiddly paste-up bollox (& calligraphy practice). Not much fun at all..

Decorations for student Common Room.

Our high school had a lounge for year 11 & 12 students known as “The Common Room” and I got to decorate its walls with cartoons. I can’t exactly remember whether this was someone else’s idea who approached me, or a case of me badgering the powers that be, but either way, the the school principal had to approve the project. Which he did.

I’ve written about cranky teachers at Catholic school but this brother was definitely one of the good ones. He was not of the fire & brimstone old guard, but of the groovy younger set of nuns & brothers (the cool cats with folk guitar). He was a warm & wonderful man with a great sense of humour, and tolerated much shenanigans from me & my mates. Even when he (justifiably) scolded us for being boneheads, there was always a twinkle in his eye.

Decorations for student Common Room.

Anyway, he let me draw what ever silly nonsense I wanted on the Common Room walls, with no editorialising whatsoever. Which is pretty amazing now that I come to think of it. When that brother moved on, to be principal at another school, the next principal painted over everything I’d drawn. I was out of school by that time so no harm done, but I’m sorry now not to have more photos.

My pal Peter had a community radio show (called “Sunday Soft Rock”) and I often sat in when he was on air, as the FM-station was mere blocks from the Baker Family home. Through this contact, I did a few illustrations for the station’s program guide, and promotional posters for the station (and another in Newcastle). I definitely enjoyed illustrating, and hoped I would get more of that to do, rather than simple calligraphic sign writing.

Posters for community radio stations.

During the break between years 10 & 11 Dad saw an ad in the newspaper for an "animation workshop" being held at the university, which is how I learned that there actually was an animation studio in Sydney. This was an electrifying discovery! Getting into animation became my focus in the last two years of high school (perhaps to the detriment of my already shoddy grades). I sent my drawings to the studio multiple times, until they finally called me down to Sydney for an interview, where I was offered a job.

However, even after I’d entered the animation biz, illustration continued to be a sideline for many years, in Sydney and even when I worked in Asia. Not just to supplement my often sporadic animation work, but also because I genuinely enjoyed doing it.

From www.James-Baker.com

[missturtleduck]

The Girls of Ba Sing Se - (Sokka x f!Reader) Pt. 8

Part Seven│Part Nine

“You, girl of secrets, may stay.”

The library was surprisingly easy to find, considering it was buried under centuries of sand. Watching Toph siphon it up as smoothly as Katara could shape water, Y/N stood pointedly ignoring Sokka and Professor Zei rambling to each other. Sure, she was as much of a nerd as they were, what with learning languages and arithmetic from a young age, but it wasn’t like she was about to drop Sokka’s attitude and divulge in ancient secrets with them. 

They did sound like pretty cool ancient secrets though.

Trying not to pout, Y/N sighed and began to scale the tower freehand. Was it to spite Sokka, who had just thrown a grapple to the top window? Perhaps. Only beaten by Aang, who had the power of airbending on his side, Y/N sat on the ledge of the window, staring down at Toph, Appa, and Qin.

“You sure you’ll be alright, Toph?” She called down to her friend, who had a firm hand on Qin’s back.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Toph brushed her off. “Like I said, books don’t do it for me.”

With a nod, Y/N readied to descend. “Send Qin in after us if you get in trouble.”

Satisfied that Toph would be okay, she leapt from the window, Aang catching her in a swirl of air. It was fun, almost like jumping onto a bed laden with pillows, although she never remembered jumping on her auntie’s bed to ever be that dangerous. The inside of the tower was beautiful, even Y/N had to admit in her bad mood, decorated with mosaic depictions of owl, glittering dark onyx and blues as the sun filtered through the cracks in the old brick. Three guesses on what form the spirit of the library took, Y/N chuckled to herself.

Rustling interrupted her admiration as she pulled the nearest person behind a great pillar. Peering around it, she held the person close to her chest, listening for any signs of movement, praying to Agni that it was just one of those cute fox spirits.

“I know you’re back there,” A voice said, menacing and low, leaving goosebumps up her arms; it was pure adrenaline, a fight or flight reaction.

Eyes wide, she went to hiss at Professor Zei, who had stepped out from behind the pillar. A hand clamped over her mouth – Sokka. Nose wrinkled in disdain, Y/N fought the urge to lick his hand then and there, grossing him out enough to reveal him too. Maybe the owl spirit would keep him as a pet.

“Hello!” Zei said, the word Y/N had been stuck on finally coming to her head: naïve. “I am Professor Zei, Head of Anthropology at Ba Sing Se University!”

The avian monster leered down over the professor, who seemed unfazed in his thirst for knowledge. “You would leave the way you came, unless you want to become a stuffed head of anthropology.”

As much as she disliked the man, she wouldn’t let him die. Pushing off of Sokka’s chest, not thinking about how he felt under her palms and pressed that close in the moment, Y/N rushed forwards, bowing lowly. “Oh, great spirit!  Are you the magnificent one who brought all of this knowledge into the physical world?”

“Indeed,” The spirit said, a tad less malicious than before. “I am Wan Shi Tong, ‘He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things’.”

“Oh, how marvellous!” Y/N exclaimed, coming out of her bow to look at Wan Shi Tong with as much respect and as little fear possible. “To grant the physical world, the world of humans with such a resource! You are far too benevolent.”

The spirit peered its head up as Sokka, Katara, and Aang came out of their hiding place. “Yes, and you are obviously humans, which, by the way, are no longer permitted in my library.”

“What do you have against humans?” Aang blurted out, not unkindly, but with a lack of respect that made Y/N cringe; surprisingly, she had no intention of being eaten by a giant owl spirit!

“Hmph!” Wan Shi Tong sneered, standing tall to look down on them all. 

“Humans only seek knowledge to get an edge on other humans, like that firebender who came to this place a few years ago seeking to destroy his enemy. So, who are you seeking to destroy?”

“What?” Sokka said, stretching the vowel too long to be anything but suspicious. “No-no-no-no destroying of anyone! We’re not into that.”

Wan Shi Tong blinked with his great, owlish eyes. “Then why have you come here?”

“Um... knowledge for knowledge’s sake?”

His shadow loomed over the boy. “If you’re going to lie to an all-knowing spirit, you should at least at some effort into it.”

This was it then. Y/N steeled herself, ready to see Sokka eaten in front of her. He’d be sorely missed of course, the git, but what happens had to happen, right? Although, what would happen to the rest of them if he was eaten? Would they be resigned to the same fate? She knew Katara would never forgive herself, that Professor Zei would manage to turn Sokka into some sort of parable – a caricature of the person he truly was. Eyes widening at her sudden epiphanies, Y/N darted in front of the men making fools of themselves, offering her bō staff out in a low bow.

“Please forgive the indiscretion of my idiot companion,” She grovelled, ecstatic at the jibe she managed to fit in. “I offer one more bit of knowledge to your vast collection, if you’ll have it.”

Reaching with one fluid motion, the spirit practically absorbed the staff. “You, girl of secrets, may stay.”

Wan Shi Tong looked amongst the group, expectant. One by one, each of them gave away something precious; a scroll, a tome, and a poster were added to his collection. But what of Sokka? A special knot was offered with a grin.

“You’re not very bright, are you?” The spirit blanched, enough sarcasm to match the boy himself. “Enjoy the library.”

Flourishing out of sight, Y/N pushed down a snort, “He’s dramatic for a spirit.”

Falling back to walk with Katara, she allowed herself to breath in the atmosphere of such a grand place. Every tome had collected dust over what must have been centuries; it felt wrong, sinful, to touch them, let alone peruse through its words. This seemed to be a shared opinion of Katara, who avoided picking up every tome that seemed mildly interesting.

Aang and Sokka, however, were picking up works because they fancied the colour.

“Hey, look at these weird lion turtle things!” Aang said, shoving a scroll in their faces.

“Eh,” Sokka waved his hand, “I’ve seen weirder.”

Deeper into the library they ventured, the hallways growing darker and the tomes growing dustier –  rarer – as they went along. Though, maybe it wasn’t dust. All colour flushed from Y/N’s skin as she saw the room marred with burn marks and ashes. A firebender had done this. They had committed an atrocity she didn’t think possible. This was the human that the spirit had so spitefully told them about.

“They destroyed everything to do with the Fire Nation,” Katara gasped.

That’s what they do, Y//N thought bitterly.

Taking a seat in the remains of such precious knowledge, Y/N watched with some amusement as her friends chased after a Knowledge Seeker. The little fox led them away swiftly, and what they may find could be vital, but she couldn’t bring herself to follow. Something about the room they had discovered made her stomach turn, waves of guilt rolling continuously, growing greater and more violent until she wanted to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, looking up to see the owl spirit stood over her. “I’m sorry on behalf of the evil person who did this.”

The spirit considered for a moment. “Would you indulge me with a secret? I find secrets to be the greatest knowledge of all.”

“Will it compensate you for the damage?”

“Not entirely,” Wa Shi Tong admitted, not nearly as menacing as he had been, “But enough for forgiveness,”

And so she spoke. She indulged the spirit in every secret she had in her soul, feeling lighter and lighter as every one left her lips. Y/N told him of the family she had lost, her lineage, her first crush, her greatest rebellion against her uncle. How much value could be put on her secrets, she wondered.

She didn’t wonder for long as a Knowledge Seeker came running up to them on four legs, propping itself to two as it communicated silently with its master. She wondered if the value of her secrets could pay the spirit for the insult that was just delivered to him. With a final look at Y/N, the spirit swept away with all the rage of a warrior.

It was when the ground began to shake that Y/N realised something was truly wrong.

Exchanging looks with the spirit servant, something that she would’ve never expected to happen, she sprinted out of the room. Following the creature, it led her through the maze of bookshelves until she recognised where they were. Back at the beginning, the fox gave a frantic little bow before scurrying away. With the open window filtering light, Y/N heard the desperate cries of Appa, Qin, and Toph. 

Panicked and determined, Y/N clambered onto the bannister that prevented patrons tumbling into the abyss of tomes. It was instant death, she noted, but she needed to get to the rope hanging from the tower. Inhaling a sharp breath, she leapt across, hands burning as she struggled for a grip. Darting her eyes back to the library, she spotted the spirit tormenting her friends and the professor.

“Oh, great spirit!” She called to him, shimmying her way up the rope. “Let me be proof that not all humans carry evil, even if you cannot see it yet.”

The rage he carried was chilling.

“I’m coming Toph!”

The wails had subsided since, Appa now silenced above her. Making quick work of the rope – darting ever downwards to ensure her friends were safe – Y/N clambered through the window, narrowly avoiding Toph. Qin caught her with her tail, groaning lowly, wincing. A gash was open on her back, creating a storm of blind rage within her. Appa, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Despite what she may have said afterwards, Toph was crying. With all of her strength, she was preventing the spirit from killing them all. Once Katara, Sokka, and Aang leapt out onto the sand, Y/N made quick work of pulling Toph into a tight hug, whispering apologies over and over again until the words merged into numbness. Any spite she may have felt only hours ago had dissipated as quickly as it came. Y/N had hit her limit.

TAGLIST: @lunariasilver​ @maragreene​

[jaeminlore]

Darlin’ | Lucas

summary: i love the way you soften my life with your love

words: 4K+

category: biker!lucas, fluff, tattooist on the boardwalk!lucas, reader just wants some sun

“I told you, I don’t want to move.” You open one eye and squint towards your best friend, Hana, who for some reason can never sit still.

It’s summer break, you can’t help but think. Exams just ended and it’s time to stay on the beach every day until you turn into a merperson. Summers in Salos are the best for this reason, and you have decided to spend your first week of summer promptly sleeping on the beach. 

Hana doesn’t know how to relax, or rather, doesn’t know how to stop putting her nose in places that don’t belong. “But the bike show is starting today. There are going to be so many hot guys and girls there with their bikes.”

“I want a bike,” you grumble. Your timer beeps, so you restart it and turn on your back. “Go check them out and I’ll be here.”

Hana whines and pulls the hem of your bottoms, letting the waistband snap against your skin. “I can’t go alone!”

“Ow!” You rub at your waist. “I’m coming, okay? But you’re buying me dinner afterward.”

“Whatever,” Hana grabs your arm as soon as you’re done covering your top half with a hoodie. “Let’s go, I heard that all those hot tattoo artists have their bikes set up in front of their shop.”

You know what shop she’s talking about. It’s Neo Tattoos, owned by a few handsome, yet intimidating boys. They’re often the center of attention at most beach parties, always revving their bikes too loud in the parking lot just beside the beach. Parties with them are always exciting, because they come armed with a stick and poke gun and a business card for the customer’s more sober morning, where they can cover up what they drunkenly got at the party. 

Businessmen, for sure.

“What do you even do at a bike show?” You grab your bag and swing it over your shoulder. Hana barely waits for you to slip your sandals on before she’s forcing you to trudge up the sand dunes, past the snow cone cart, up to one of the many boardwalk entrances. 

An entire part of the boardwalk is set up with bikes. People’s motorcycles line the pathways, and their owners just sit in lawn chairs with cups of beer, waiting for someone to come up and spark a conversation about their souped up motor vehicles. Tourists fall right into the trap, traveling to the island just to take a peak at what these people have been working on for the entire year.

You like the show, mostly because you have sort of always wanted a motorbike, and these shows are a nice chance to find people willing to seek their old rides. But they can be terribly boring, and you have no idea why Hana would put the two of you through it. Even if there are cute boys attending.

Neo Tattoos sits further down the boardwalk, away from the pier and closer to the nightlife scene. Bars and restaurants line the boardwalk for people who have spent their entire day shopping or swimming. There’s a club somewhere around here, run by the same people who keep the karaoke cabana down by the beach up and running.

You stop on the way, looking at the different bikes. Hana drags you on, and the two of you stop just in front of the tattoo parlor.

The place doesn’t look like it belongs in front of a beach. The entire storefront is made of black bricks, all splattered with different neon paint. It looks cool at night, the neon paint glows in the dark and draws excited university students in. 

You’ve considered getting a tattoo there, but you aren’t sure you what design you want. Even if you did, you might go to a different one just to escape the embarrassment that is Hana around cute boys.

Apparently today, you don’t get a choice. 

There’s an annoying tingling of chimes that rings throughout the shop as soon as the two of you enter. 

The man behind the counter greets the two of you. “I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two, today?”

“I want a tattoo,” Hana says. She’s putting on that sugary sweet voice that can win over just about anyone’s heart. “But I only have a twenty.”

You want to call bull on her lying ass, but she’s batting her eyelashes at Johnny and he seems to be actually considering it. 

“Let’s see what we can do,” Johnny winks at Hana and then cuts his gaze towards you. “Did you want one too?”

“Not today, thanks.” You hug your arms close to yourself. “I’m just here to support.”

Johnny stands up, and he’s a pretty big guy. He towers over you both, with his wide, but lanky, posture. He’s wearing a white t-shirt tucked into blue jeans, and a long chain hangs off his neck.

You’re eye-level with the lock charm on the chain. 

“Follow me,” he says. “Lucas is the only one taking walk-ins today, so hopefully you like his style.”

“She doesn’t get to choose a style with only twenty bucks to her name,” you quip, making Johnny laugh.

He turns the corner into a small, square room, where only one tattoo chair occupies the floor. Some unknown song plays from the large black and yellow speakers. It’s surfing music, something similar to The Beach Boys. It fits the location, but rejects the atmosphere of black and neon that these boys have cemented as their staple design.

There’s a sketching desk in the corner, where the previously mentioned speakers rest alongside a large monitor. The screen is taken fully by photoshop, where a tattoo design basks, just waiting to be praised.

You walk over; rest you hand on the back of the rolling chair, and stare at the design. It’s black and white ink. The silhouette is of a shark, but the body is a drawing of the beach. His fin is a wave, and his underbelly is the sand. It’s really beautiful. And when you look up at the sketches on the wall and notice that all of them are similar in their surrealistic nature. Charcoal sketches of beach scenes and ocean life and local fauna have you sort of mesmerized from the start.

“Do you like them?” Someone asks you from behind. It’s a new voice: deep and boyish, and you feel suddenly vulnerable for looking so deeply into someone else’s art.

“They’re really good,” You turn around as you reply, and any other words that might have made their way to your mouth are swallowed back down your throat, along with your dignity. 

He’s just as tall as Johnny — Does this place only hire tall guys? — but he’s cuter, in your opinion. You can barely see his big eyes, hidden behind dark brown strands of hair. You follow the line of his nose down until you reach his lips. They’re ruddy and seem to be permanently formed into a pretty pout. 

Then he’s smiling, and his teeth are bright and straight and you feel you breath knock out of your chest.

You manage to tear your eyes away from his mouth long enough to form a coherent sentence. “They’re really beautiful. Worth much more than twenty dollars.”

“Sorry?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

Johnny nudges Hana forward gently. “Lucas, this is Hana. Hana, Lucas. She wants a tattoo but only has twenty dollars.”

Hana gives Lucas a shy wave. “Sorry if it’s an inconvenience.”

“Not at all!” Lucas chuckles, and it’s soft and melodic and boyish. “Most of these are customs or just freehand. Tell me what you’re thinking design-wise, and I’ll see what I can cook up.“

Lucas walks past you to sit on his chair, so you retreat to the wall, awkwardly cocking your hip, arms crossed over your chest. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Johnny slaps the doorframe and heads back towards the front of the shop, and you’re left to wonder what you’re supposed to do.

Lucas uses the wheeled chair to get around. He wheels to the other side of the desk and pulls a large binder out of one of the drawers. “Here are some of my minimalist designs. That’s pretty much all a twenty is going to get you, so see if any of these interest or inspire you.”

Hana flips through the book, and Lucas turns to you. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/n,” you say, shifting your posture. “Here for moral support.”

Lucas locks his gaze into yours and repeats you name slowly, like he’s mulling it over. “Y/n. Would you like to sit down? You can take my spinny chair and I’ll go get a spare stool.”

“Are you sure—” he’s out of the room before you can finish your concern. You turn to Hana and shrug.

“He’s cute,” she whispers. She sits back on the chair and straightens her shirt.

You sit in the chair and roll over to the other side of Hana’s chair. “Are you gonna ignore the google eyes Johnny was giving you?”

“Oh, of course not.” Hana waves away your concern. “I got his number while you were snooping on Lucas’ monitor.”

“I wasn’t snooping!”

“You so were,” Hana grins at you, resting her chin on the palm of her head. “Anyways, I was gonna say Lucas is cute for you.”

“You’re impossible,” you shove her shoulder back with a shake of your head. “What did I say about summer boyfriends?”

“We don’t need them.” Hana pouts. She sticks her tongue out at you just as Lucas walks in. “I’m gonna get one anyway.”

“Get what?” Lucas sets his stool on the other side of Hana’s chair and looks at you.

You blink. “Um...” You avert your eyes to the loose thread sticking out of the chair handle. “Hana wants us each to have summer boyfriends.”

Lucas hums. He turns back to his desk and extracts the tattoo gun and a wrapped needle. He unwraps it and fits it in the gun. “Just for the summer?” His eyes are twinkling. Again, he’s asking you. It’s like Hana isn’t even in the room, which is new to you because everyone notices Hana first.

You almost answer. You’re about to when Hana shoves the book into Lucas’ hand. “I want the key design.”

Lucas pulls his gaze away from you and smiles at Hana. “Alright, let’s get started!”

☼

You visit the bike show later that week on your lunch break. Working at the small perfume shop on the boardwalk can be fun, but it certainly makes you want fresh air by noon.

You take a sip of the lemonade you bought and browse the bikes, stopping every once in awhile to talk to the owners.  

“Y/n!” Lucas’ voice rings across the boardwalk. He’s in front of Neo Tattoos, leaning against a cherry red Ducati. 

It’s way too hot for him to be wearing what he’s wearing. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. His hair is down across his forehead again, slightly matted with sweat. He wipes his forehead and waves at you, arm long and tall above everyone’s head.

He looks incredibly dorky, and it puts a smile on your face. You walk over. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Just a little bit,” Lucas pinches his thumb and pointer finger together. Then he runs his fingers through his bangs and pushes them off of his forehead. “I look cooler this way, though.”

You look around, to see everyone else with their bikes. Most of them are in their swimsuits, or at least wearing only bottoms. You turn back to Lucas and push your lemonade towards him. “Take a sip before you get a heatstroke. And take off your jacket, at least.”

Lucas shrugs off his jacket, to reveal a red t-shirt underneath. “At least I match my bike.”

“This is yours?” You reach out and touch the shiny chrome. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you!” Lucas brightens up. He slaps the seat. “It’s the first thing I bought after opening Neo with Johnny.”

“I’m gonna get one one day,” you tell him. He gives you your lemonade cup back and you take a sip. “And a tattoo.”

“You’re gonna ask me to do it, right?” Lucas grins down at you.

How could you say no to that face? “Yeah. I really liked that shark design, if it isn’t reserved.”

“No,” Lucas hugs his jacket to his chest. “I was just messing around with designs. Give me a call when you’re ready, alright? I’ll give you my number.”

You return from your lunch break with an empty lemonade cup, the number of a cute boy, and a smile on your face.

☼

The next time you get a day off, you head over to Neo Tattoos for your appointment with Lucas. 

You two have been texting back and forth throughout the days. You’ve found that Lucas has a large arsenal of memes always at the ready. Another thing you’ve realized is that Lucas is the most adorable person you’ve ever known. He texts you every morning with a little picture of a baby sea turtle or dolphin or other baby marine animal. You reply with a random puppy picture you find on twitter, and every day it makes never fails to trigger an onslaught of heart emojis from Lucas.

It’s really cute.

Lucas is really cute. It’s probably too early to call it a crush, but it certainly feels like one, especially when you get called out by Hana for smiling at your text messages.

The chimes ring when you enter the parlor. “Hi, Johnny.”

“Lucas! Y/n is here!” Johnny yells into the hallway before turning to you. “He has been talking about this appointment all day.”

“Can you shut up?” You hear Lucas before you see him. He comes out of his room and smiles. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Hey, Lucas.” You scurry towards the back room, if only to avoid Johnny’s knowing stare. “How was your day?”

“Good. Better now that you’re here.” Lucas cocks his head to the side and gives you a cheesy smirk. 

You shove his shoulder back and climb onto the big chair. “Let’s get this over with. I have a date with the sun later.”

Lucas falls back into his spinning chair and scoots himself towards you. He rests his elbows beside your thigh and gleams up at you. “You’re gonna ditch me for a nap in the sun?”

He looks so boyishly handsome, smiling at you like that. He looks like someone in love. Like someone who is staring at their significant other in admiration.

It makes you feel vulnerable and naked. You clear your throat and shove your arm in front of his face. “So, forearm?”

Lucas turns on some music and gets started, stopping every few minutes to check with you. “Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad,” you say with a shake of your head. “Just a little sting here and there.”

Lucas holds his left palm out. “You can always squeeze my hand if it gets too much.”

“Do you want to hold my hand that bad, Lucas?” you tease, and the pink that creeps up his neck is enough for you to reach forward and grab his hand.

You hold it in your lap while he finishes up the tattoo, never really squeezing it. At most, you run your thumb along the back of his hand.

It feels good, his large hand encased in yours. His skin is almost as warm as the smile he gives you from time to time.

Soon, with a low hum and one last wipe down, your tattoo is done. “Let me bandage it, and then you can go one your stupid date.”

You giggle. “Are you jealous of the sun, Lucas?”

Lucas brings your hand to his cheek and hums, looking up to the ceiling. “Of course I’m jealous. I want you to spend more time with me.”

“What would you have in mind?” 

Lucas looks surprised. The color reappears in his cheeks and he clears his throat to collect himself. “Would you like to go on a ride with me? We could drive down to the pier and watch the sunset?”

You blink. Is Lucas asking you on a date? An actual date? As in, he likes you? 

“U-Uh, yeah.” You match his grin and feel your chest warm. More confidently, you manage a nod. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

☼

You pick up dinner while Lucas finishes up his shift, and when you return, he’s got that stupid leather jacket on again. He sees the bag of fast food and opens his backpack. “Do you mind wearing this on the way?”

“No,” you giggle. “But let’s get going. I’m hungry.”

Lucas swings his leg over the seat and passes a helmet to you. He revs his bike. “As you wish.”

You swing your legs around and grab his waist, clasping your hands together. Palms against his abdomen, you can feel the smooth lines underneath. It flusters you. Still, you don’t move your hands for the bigger fear of falling off.

Besides, being this close to Lucas is quite nice.

Lucas parks his bike next to a bicycle rack just off the pier’s entrance. 

“I’m not sure you can park here, Lucas.”

Lucas looks ethereal in the light of the setting sun. His large eyes peer down at you, and with a smile grazing his features, he looks like an angel. He shrugs, “It says bike rack.”

“You’re crazy,” you say, eyes bright. 

Lucas bumps his shoulder against yours and grabs for your hand. Linking his fingers with yours, he swings your hands back and forth as the two of you walk towards the end of the pier.

There’s a railing for public safety. Lucas fits his long legs through the lower bars anyways. His feet dangle in the air. “Let’s eat!” He raises his fists in the air.

You avoid the annoyed stares of onlookers and follow Lucas’ actions. You fit your legs under the bars.

The two of you eat burgers and watch as the sunset returns to its bed behind the sea. 

“It’s beautiful,” Lucas says. He reaches his hands out towards the darkening sky. “I love this island. I never want to leave.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. The lighthouse beam switches on, and the beam falls over the two of you before finding its place in the air. You watch the light turn. “I’m glad I came out here with you.”

Lucas grins. His cheeks are blossoming into reds and pinks and you like the way flustered looks on him. “Me too,” he says. “Genuinely. I really like you.”

“I like you too.” You scoot closer to him and rest your head against his arm. “A lot.”

☼

The sun is scorching. It causes an instant sweat the moment you walk under the rays. “Alright, Jaemin?”

The lifeguard waves at you from his perch, a silver whistle pressed between his lips. “Lucas was looking for you,” he says around the metal.

“Don’t tell him I’m here,” you say. “Give me a minute underneath the sun without him or Hana ruining it.”

“Copy,” Jaemin says with a salute, giggling at your perturbed expression. He’s been particularly happy lately. You wonder why.

No matter, you decide, choosing to focus on your plans for today: laying in the sun and ignoring life in general.

The island fills your senses. The sound of the waves; of children playing; of seagulls screaming for food. It’s everything Salos is, and it feels like home. Nothing makes you feel more at peace than here, on the beach. To feel the sand beneath you and know the entire ocean is only a few yards away; that’s heaven.

What isn’t heaven is when a large cloud covers the sun, keeping you from receiving warmth.

You open your eyes, ready to glare at the cloud in annoyance.

Only it isn’t a cloud; it’s Lucas. His large frame blocks the sun from you. His smile is just as bright, though, so you find yourself not minding quite as much. “Hey, Lucas. What’s up?”

Lucas gives you an apologetic grin and sheds his leather jacket. “Sorry for bothering you. I was on my break and I saw you over here. Can I sit with you?”

“Go for it.” You scoot over on the towel so Lucas has room. 

He plops down, dropping his backpack in front of him. He extracts an apple. “Do you want one? I packed two.”

You take a bite of the offered apple and lean your arm against Lucas’. “How was your morning?”

“Good,” Lucas says in his deep voice. “Only two appointments, but the first one took three hours. My hands hurt.”

You take the hand he isn’t holding his apple with and begin to gently massage it. You knead circular motions into his palm and fingers, discarding your apple in favor of the task at hand. 

“You don’t- You don’t have to do that.” Red blossoms across Lucas’ neck. He watches his hand encased in both of yours. 

“I want to,” you say. Lucas’ eyes flit across your face, and you feel openly vulnerable with your face so close to his.

Especially now, when your face is bare of everything, save SPF 80 sunscreen. You can just picture your bright red cheeks and peeling nose. Maybe your lips are chapped too, since you forgot to apply chapstick this morning.

Lucas doesn’t mention any of this, so you assume you’re just overreacting. 

“Y/n?” Lucas asks. He licks his lips, quickly, but you catch the motion.

You know what’s coming. Truthfully, it’s been coming since the day you met Lucas; when the tension began. Then came the feelings, and you’ve been stuck ever since. 

Maybe Lucas has been stuck too.

He ever-so-gently reaches up and tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind your ear. His hands are sticky from the apple juice, but you can’t really be bothered to care right now. Not when Lucas is treating you so softly. 

Your senses zone in on Lucas only. His large brown eyes, colorful tattoos, and too-long bangs falling into his eyes. His scent, like some generic body wash that smells boyish and soft, just like Lucas. 

His lips, pouty and smooth and pink. 

His fingertips trace down from your hairline to your chin. When his thumb swipes across your lips, your breath catches in your throat.

Then Lucas is leaning in, too fast for you to even think about what he’s going to do. Well, obviously he’s going to kiss you, but your brain seems to be filled with nothing but warning bells and signals screaming for you to lower your adrenaline levels. 

His lips fold into yours almost perfectly. Your thoughts turn over into the feeling of his fingertips trailing down your neck. His palm rests in the junction between your neck and shoulder. He pulls your closer to him and sighs against your mouth.

You move your lips, smiling when his nose bumps into yours. He tastes like green apples. You rest your hand on his knee and lean in closer. You giggle at the surprised noise that escapes his mouth. 

The sound of a whistle makes the two of you jump apart. 

“No kissing on the public beach!” Jaemin shouts at the two of you, no real venom in his voice.

You kiss Lucas once more and give Jaemin the bird. 

He whistles again. “That’s illegal!”

“It’s not,” Lucas giggles, hiding his face in the crook of you neck. 

☼

You walk into Neo Tattoos. “Where’s Lucas?”

Johnny closes his magazine and looks at you. “Well hello to you, too.”

“I brought him a lemonade and my break is almost over,” you say in passing, heading for the back.

“Lucas!”

“Y/n!” He shouts back.

You enter to see him with a customer. He’s so cute when he’s focused. You look at his gloved hands and furrowed brows. It makes you lean against the doorframe and watch him fondly for a moment. 

He finally looks away from his customer. “Hey, Darlin’”

His wide smile makes the trip across the boardwalk worth it. You hand him the lemonade. “I have to get back to the shop, but I wanted to see you real quick.”

Lucas stands up and pulls off his gloves. “You’re too kind. Can I come visit you after my shift and take you out?”

“I’d like that a lot.” You kiss him and squeeze him tightly. Hopefully he can feel all of your love through your hug.

Because you really love this boy. He softens your world and makes everything feel warmer. He encases you in an eternal summer, and you don’t ever want it to end.

[otterbeesfanficblog]

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

EDIT: I’M SO FUCKIN DUMB I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH, I’M SO SORRY IT WASN’T Y/N THIS WHOLE TIME UGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Part 3: Compare And Contrast

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 4: From Where We Stand Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

[April]

"I know I shouldn't... but I feel powerful in this skirt."

You mumbled this to yourself, smiling proudly down at the skirt as it was when you walked. You were wearing the school uniform with leggings, comfortable dress shoes, and your shirt's top button was open as your tie was loose around your neck.

It took you en embarrassingly long time to figure out the tie, to the point you just asked Riji to help you, and as you made your way to UA, you couldn't help the slight pep in your step.

The voice that was angry before was vastly overpowered by your excitement, as normal kids were young their first days of school so they don't remember that moment of first. But here you were, 15 and your first time going to school was high school. At a well-known hero school at that.

To say you were a bit cocky was an understatement.

"Now, 1-A... 1-A... I knew this school was big but damn."

You held your school bag on one shoulder, it being emptied of the stuff you had in it before to be filed with needed school supplies.

"Oh, there it... the fuck?"

You stopped in front of a comically large door labeled 1-A, though you supposed that it made sense, seeing as there could be students (or teachers) that need a door this big.

"Well, here's goes nothing."

Sliding open the door, you were surprised to see maybe one 3rd of the class there. Glancing around you saw a seat open on the far side of the room in the front and you made your way over to that to claim it.

"Y/n!"

Your ears perk up to the sound of your name, turning you see Kiri quickly making his way over to you with a huge grin.

"See!? I told you we'd be in the same class!"

You smile and rub the back of your neck in a timid way.

"Yeah, guess you were right."

"So you're the girl that places second in the exam, huh!"

Looking over, you saw a pink skin and haired girl with horns speaking to you. She smiled at you kindly, coming up behind her were two other boys. One had blonde hair with a black lightning-like strike in it, the other plain black hair, and wore a friendly smile.

You felt a little over helmed with so many people, but you kept it under wraps and answered her timidly.

"Oh, well, yeah, that's me."

"We also heard you took down the 0 point robot all by yourself." The blonde hair boy spoke, giving you a wink. "That's pretty impressive."

"Eh... I had help from Kiri..."

"No way!" Kirishima shook his head, patting you on the back. "All I did was catch you, even then you took the brunt of it!"

"You and some other kid were the only ones to fight those things," The black-haired boy stated, smiling at you confidently. "You both took it down with one hit!"

"Other kid?" You tilted your head in confusion, Kirishima answered you first.

"There was a guy in center A that went after the 0 point bot too, he apparently knocked it in one go like you, then passed out!"

You felt heat rise to your face, you had cleverly forgotten about your own blackout during the exam.

The pink girl groan and threw her head back.

"You guys are already so cool, I'm so jealous."

"Oh, eh..." You pulled your bag off your shoulder and pulled out your astronomical theories book and set it on your desk to read while you wait for class to start, putting it down you waved her off. "I'm not really someone to be jealous of..."

You looked down at the floor with a frown.

"Trust me..."

"Come on, Y/n, you don't give yourself enough credit!" Kirishima cheered. "You did amazing and your quirk is out of this world!"

You stopped, looked him in the eyes and deadpanned.

"Was... was that a pun?"

He looked at you confused.

"Huh?"

"Anyway, my names Ashido Mina!" The girl held out her hand, which you took with your free one.

"Kaminari Denki, nice to meet you." The blonde, Kaminari, winked at you again.

"And I'm Sero Hanta." Sero, the black-haired one waved.

You smiled at them all and bowed at them a little.

"I'm Uchukyuzo Y/n, though you all might as well call me Y/n."

You all jumped with the door to the classroom slammed open, quickly turning to see what happened.

Standing in the doorway was a boy with spiky, light blonde hair, and a glare that went for miles. He glared around the room before scuffing and going over to the cubbies in the back.

Your new group of friends waved at you and walked over to the desks they were to be sitting in, while you watched the boy who just entered come down the aisle that you were in. Pulling out the seat to the desk behind you the boy glared at you, stopping his movements in sitting down.

"The hell are you looking at?"

You were caught off guard by his voice, not really expecting him to be so... rude. You just met and he was acting like you had both hated each other for years. You felt your blood grow warmer under your skin, and without being able to stop it, words slipped from your mouth.

"A rude little bitch, I guess." You glared back at him.

You heard someone in the room sputter and hold back a laugh, while the boy in front of you was shocked, then he was seating. Getting closer to you, his ruby red eyes glared daggers into you.

"The fuck did you say to me?!"

"I guess you're not only a rude bitch, but you're a deaf one too."

You didn't know why you felt the need to say anything to him, years ago, maybe even months ago, you would have let him get angry at you then let it go. But for some reason, the way he talked to you set a fire in you.

With no warning, you felt the front of your uniform get pulled into a fist, forcing you to drop your bag and step on your tiptoes. He held you up close to his face by the front of your uniform, glaring down at you as you matched his glare.

"Seems like you're asking to get your ass beat, space girl." He must have looked at the book on your desk as he growled in your face, you grabbed at his hand that was clutching your clothes with your own hand.

"I didn't think such a well-known school would let a delinquent like you in."

His hand that was free raised up into your view, and suddenly it smoked with small explosions coming from it. He gave a sick grin at you.

"You'd better stay outta my way, space girl, or you're gonna explode into an early grave."

You raised your own freehand, channeling the force you had collected thus far into your hand. Your hand glowed bright then poped with a small explosion like his, leaving little specks of light to fall as you continued to show off your own quirk with a smirk.

"I can do that too, smartass. The only difference is I can do it better."

He growled at you, and for a moment you thought you were actually going to fight, but then you heard a voice speak out.

"There will be no fighting inside the classroom!"

You both turn to see a tall boy with blue hair and glasses looking sternly at you both, the boy holding you dropped and pushed you back, scuffing out a 'whatever' before sitting down and throwing his feet up onto the desk.

Rolling your eyes and mutter out a curse you take the book from off your desk and put it back in your bag, you had a feeling you weren't going to get in any extra reading after that.

You walked past the red-eyed prick to the cubbies in the back, placing your stuff inside one before going back. You noticed now the blue-haired boy was scolding the red-eyed prick about having his feet up on the desk, which the prick didn't seem to care about at all.

You walked in front and sat in the desk, forcefully leaning back which made the pricks feet jolt back. You heard him growl at you, which made you smile, but you all sooner looked to the classroom entrance again to see someone standing there.

It was Midoriya, the kid you meet a while back, and was quickly approached by the blue-haired boy. The blue boy said something about him knowing something about the exam and him being better than him, but you couldn't stop the chuckle that left your mouth at this.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the prick staring at Midoriya, then stared at you. Not fearing his eye contact at all you turn to look him in the eyes, almost daring him to say something.

He bares his teeth at you in a sneer, to which you roll your eyes.

"Chill out, you angry pomeranian. I'm Y/n by the way."

"I don't care what your name is, idiot." He then looks out the window, avoiding your eyes, and you once again roll your eye.

"Just thought you should know the person you wanted to fight so bad."

You turn back around in your seat, watching from side glance the conversation happening at the door. You felt his eyes on the back of your head, though you decided to ignore it.

The first day at school and you already made an enemy.

"School is what you make it."

With a shake of your head, glancing at the boy behind you over your shoulder. He seemed to be lost in thought while looking at you, you took this as a moment to look at him better.

Ash-blonde hair, deep red eyes, fair skin, and a deep-seated frown on his lips. If you remember correctly, in any manga you've ever seen, he'd be the 'bad boy'. But, looking at him so lost in thought, the frown wasn't as harsh and his brows weren't strongly knitted together.

He looked like he was... reading you.

Going back to his eyes, you realize now it had been you who was staring. He didn't give you a scowl or sneer as you expected, his face just stayed blank as you both started at each other.

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Nice to meet you."

Snapping your eyes to the classroom door, standing there was Eraserhead, and apparently, as he just introduced, your homeroom teacher.

You sat forward and rubbed your eyes from straining them to look at the boy behind you, thinking about what Eras--... Mr. Aizawa said then mumbling out.

"What's a homeroom teacher...?"

"It's sudden, but put this on and go out onto the field." He reached into a sleeping bag he was holding, you must have missed why he had that, and showed off a different type of uniform.

Why were schools so admit on uniforms? And what's the difference between a homeroom teacher and a regular teacher?! You sigh knowing you were going to have to read up on the school system, among other things, once you got back in your dumpster.

-----

"A Quirk assessment test?!"

You stood next to Kirishima now in the school's gym uniform, looking on at Aizawa as everyone was confused or complaining about it. You heard 'quirk' and 'test', so you began subtly stomping your foot into the ground. You had a lot of potential energy already, but if you were going to be using your quick a lot today you would need to build up more.

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events. U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are." Turning back to the class, he spoke to you all. "That's also how the teacher run their classes."

You nod subtly, muttering under your breath.

"Makes sense..."

"You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your quirks."

Your eyes go wide as you look around at a few people nodding, and only one thought went threw you're head.

'Oh fuck.'

Having never been to school, you'd never done tests before. You knew what they were and what they involved, at least at the most basic level. You even tried once to train yourself, but that quickly was put on the back burner for the things you needed to do to survive like find food and make sure you weren't followed and killed in your sleep.

Training and regular workouts were a luxury for people who didn't have to worry about if they'd live to see tomorrow.

"The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their quirks. It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating."

You cross your arms over your chest and let out a sigh, your brows frowning as you think to yourself.

'I can see why some people hate school now...'

"Bakugou, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?"

You stood straight and dropped your hands, looking over and seeing the rude boy from before standing at attention. Everyone turned to look at him as Aizawa continued.

"In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?"

"67 meters." The boy, Bakugou, replied.

"Holy shit!"

You slap a hand over your mouth and look at the ground, already knowing and feeling people turn to look at you from you not so muttered outburst.

You were still tapping your foot into the ground this whole time, which had made a slight hole in the ground. You sorta wish you could blast a hole into the ground and just lay down and die in it, because why the HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?

"Anyway," Aizawa got the class' attention again. "try doing it with your quirk."

Bakugou made his way over to a marked circle on the ground while Kirishima gave you a pat on the back, you softly groan and lay your head in your hands and Aizawa begins to explain.

"You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up. Give it all you've got."

You raise your head from your hands to watch, he stretched his arm first the raised them out and up while holding the ball. Reeling his arm back and leaning forward, he put everything he had into throwing it.

"Die!"

A huge blast came from his hand, sending the ball far into the sky. You heard someone mutter 'die' in an echo of what Bakugou had shouted, you also had a question about that but after thinking about his attitude this morning you suspected it was just... him.

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said, looking at his phone that must have held the information for the test.

None of you saw it land, but as Aizawa turned around and showed you, you all couldn't help but feel a little intimidated.

"That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero."

"750 meters? Seriously?" Kaminari stumbled out, looking over at you. "Now that deserves a 'holy shit'."

"I just met you today, but I can and will punch you." You said blankly, making him slouch in defeat and Kirishima chuckle a bit.

"What's this? It looks fun!" Ashido said with a chirp to her voice.

"We can use our quirks as much we want! As expected from the hero course!" Sero exclaimed, his hands clutched tightly in excitement.

Kirishima smiled over at you, but you couldn't feel the same excitement as the others, you only felt more intimidated by their joy.

"'It looks fun,' huh?"

At the sound of Aizawa's voice, everyone quieted down.

"You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?"

You were all silent in response, he smirked and continued.

"All right. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion."

Your heart dropped into the core of the earth at this, as did everyone else's around you when they all exclaimed confusion.

You'd been a fan of Aizawa's hero work for a long time and he didn't seem like a man who would joke around much, let alone about something like this. He took heroing seriously.

'As he should,' Your thoughts cut in, making you pause. 'I didn't come to this school to fuck around. I came to this school to get off the streets and be the best goddamn hero the world has ever seen, I came to prove that even someone as low as a fuckin cockroach like me can be a hero too'

"We're free to do what we want about the circumstances of our students." Aizawa brushed some hair from his face as he smiled at all you panicked students. "Welcome to U.A.'s hero course!"

With frowned brows, you clench your fist and started bouncing on the balls of your feet, already flowing with potential power. You couldn't lose, not at any of the tests. Unlike the students around you, you had to prove you were meant for this.

Not to say they weren't working hard to get here, but Principle Nezu had told you straight up during your meeting.

"If you weren't so heroically driven, if you were anyone else, you wouldn't be here."

You would show them all, that a homeless girl with only her name and her pride, would become the best damn hero in the world.

"Last place will be expelled?" Some girl with brown hair exclaimed in somewhat of a whine. "But it's the first day of school! No, even if it wasn't the first day of school, this is too unfair!"

You couldn't stop yourself from glaring at the back of her head, scuffing at her words.

"Natural disasters, big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time or place can't be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness." Aizawa stared down the class, and though you could have been wrong, you felt as if he was talking about you as well.

You glared down at the ground, no longer bouncing on your feet, instead lost in thoughts of all the unfairness that has happened to you. But you shake your head with a sigh, now wasn't the time for a pity party.

You were professional.

You waited till you were back in your dumpster to cry, like an adult.

"Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to talk with your friends at Mickey D's after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra." Aizawa then waved his finger at you all. "Overcome it with all you've got."

You looked down at the palms of your hands, letting them glow with power which made it look like stars were falling from your hands in a mist-like waterfall. You felt more determined than before, ready to show him you were worth the time of day.

"All right, demonstration's over. The real thing starts now."

-----

The first test was a 50-meter dash, which you had seen on tv in a store window before. Watching the others go before you was... interesting.

For some, the dash was their element, as easy as breathing. For some, they didn't look to be the best.

You were going after Midoriya and Bakugou with Kirishima at your side, which you were glad for. You knew his quirk and also knew he wouldn't laugh at you, because if you were honest... You had no idea what the hell was going on.

Midoriya and Bakugou got ready as the little robot sensor called out to get ready, then as the bot shot of a small bang they ran. As expected, Bakugou used his explosive quirk to propel himself forward almost like a jetpack.

Crossing the finish in no time, the bot announced 4.13 seconds as his time, which made your heart lurch into your throat. 

"I'm glad I couldn't find any food today..." You put a hand to your stomach as Midoriya finished as well, going to a hunch with his hands on his knees.

"What do you mean?" You jumped, forgetting Kirishima was next to you. You waved your hand, not wanting to tell him or anyone that you had to scrounge for food like an animal every day.

"Oh, nothing."

"We're next, you ready?" He smiled at you as if not at all worried about failing. You couldn't even make yourself grin back as you both made your way over to the starting point, all you could respond with was a groan.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Run?" Kirishima seemed confused why your question as he stretched his body out, looking on you copied his movements and then he seemed to understand.

"Oh, I see, you're nervous."

"Really?" You exclaimed in fake surprise. "I hadn't noticed...."

"Oh come on, you'll do great. Just think of something you'd run for and use your quirk with it, I know it's hard to think about using your quirk since you've never really done it during a test before, but I believe in you!"

'I've never done one of these tests at all'. You thought to yourself.

You and Kirishima got low to the ground, hearing the bot count you off. You were still nervous as hell, but you were going to use that nervousness as power.

"Think about something to run for..."

"Get set!"

Suddenly, you imagined the most beautiful thing at the finish line. Without even realizing it, your whole body glowed and a stary mist came off you.

BANG

Your feet barely met the ground as all you could think about was what was at the finish line, you weren't even aware of what was going on around you.

You then landed face-first on the ground beyond the finish line.

"2.09 seconds." The bot called out, you still laid on the ground, face in the dirt and unmoving.

You then heard someone running up beside you, the bot say off a time while they were panting but looking down at you with awe and concern.

"What the hell, Y/n? Not only did you blind me for a second, but you were also over the finish line in no time! That's amazing! What were you thinking of that made you go that fast?!"

It was Kirishima who was talking to you, but a few of the people you met today were coming up to you as well. You got up to your hands and knees, then fell back to sit on your heels and looked off far in front of you with heat covering your face, ears, and even traveling the length of your neck.

You were not about to tell them the reason you went so fast was because you were thinking about the comfiest bed in the world surrounded by comfortable clothes and endless amounts of food...

How embarrassing.

-----

The second test was a grip strength, which you knew you had none of, even with your quirk. For that test, you got 62.3 kg which was decent, but you knew you would have to work on that.

The 3rd test was 'standing long jump', which you just barely manage to land without falling over at the end. You felt bad for Midoriya though, watching as the tests went on, he seemed to be getting less and less confident.

4th was repeated side steps, which you were also not that good at. You watched a boy pull off purple spheres from his head, place them on the ground, and bounce off them from side to side. It was creative, that's for sure.

5th was the ball throw, the brow hair girl from before went and you all watched the ball disappear into the sky. You all waited for a while, then watched Aizawa turn and show you the results, which just had an infinity sign on it and you all exclaimed in awe.

"That's amazing! She got "infinity"!" Kaminari looked on with shock and slight fear, you assumed because he was sure no one, especially himself, would do better.

You were to go after her then Midoriya would go after you.

You took the ball in your hand, walked into the circle, and before you had done so you had taken off your shoes and were left in your black socks.

"Why'd she take her shoes off?"

"Think it has something to do with her quirk?"

"She had her shoes on before?"

You started to block out the class' voices as you jumped in place, making sure to really feel the vibrations of the ground beneath you. You also took in the air around you, the sun shining on your skin, the sounds of the wind along with their voices.

Though you knew you couldn't gain much potential energy from that stuff, you wanted as much power as you could behind this one. Infinity was not something you were going to beat, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to shoot for it.

So, standing still now, you reeled back. Your body and eyes glowed with power, the stary mist once again leaking of your body. Then, with a shiny glint, you leaned forward and put all your power into your arm, then hand, and finally your finger. You made the ball gain power along the parts of your body like a bullet, and the ball flew.

You watched it fly in the air, and it was bright and looked as if it was a shooting star in broad daylight.

Your eyes drooped and you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, turning around to the class, no longer caring where the ball dropped, you unintentionally looked cocky as you yawned and Aizawa showed your score.

"1056.8?!"

Everyone yelled as you walked back over to the group, yawning again and rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. Walking past Bakugou, you heard him scuff at you, but you ignored it as Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido congratulated you and asked you how you did that.

Normally you would have answered, but at the moment you didn't have the energy to do so, instead, you watch Mirdoriya take his mark in the circle. Without knowing it, Kirishima pulled you over to him a little closer and leaned you on his shoulder, which made it hard for you to keep your eyes open.

"It doesn't look good for Midoriya if he continues like this." It was the boy in glasses that spoke, Bakugou giving him a dirty look in response.

"Huh? Of course not. He's a quirkless small fry, you know."

"Huh?" You, still tired as you were, perked up at what he said. "Quirkless?"

The glasses boy seemed to have a much more surprised response to that.

"Quirkless?! Are you not aware of what he did in the entrance exam?"

"Oh..." You looked at Midoriya who was concentrating very hard, then you nod and look over and up at Kirishima from your spot on his shoulder. "So he was the other kid that killed the no pointer."

"Other kid?" Bakugou glared at you, looking at you like you just spit strawberry milk in his face.

"You didn't know?" Kirishima, still allowing you his shoulder to lean on, reached around and gave you a pat on your other shoulder. "Y/n here destroyed the 0 point bot in her exam as well, one hit was all it took."

"Huh??" Now Bakugou's glare like was like a hot iron pan, looking at his red eye stabbing back at you. You were too tired for his attitude, so you looked away from him, which apparently he didn't like and got close and stood in front of your view of MIdoriya.

"Don't ignore me like you're some big shot, shitty star girl!!"

You weakly cover your ears and try to lean around him, your eyes still half-lidded.

"Can you stop fuckin' yelling, we all hear your loud ass. Now move over, I can't see past your inflated ego."

You swore you could see a vein pop out of the side of his forehead, but he turned when you heard Midoriya give out a shout while throwing the ball.

The ball went flying threw the sky and disappeared out of sight...

At least, that's what you thought it would have done.

But, it gently landed not too far away, the bot almost mocking him as said his score.

"46 meters."

"I... I was definitely trying to use it just now." Was all you heard him mutter as he stared at his hands in disbelief.

"I erased your quirk."

Turning to Aizawa, you clenched your heart and sputtered at what you saw. Standing before you was not Aizawa, instead, it was Eraserhead. His all too famous scarf circling his body as if it were another part of himself, his hair stand and flowing tall, and his eyes glowed red with his activated quirk.

You didn't have one, you've never actually had one before, but man you wish you had a camera at the moment.

"That entrance exam was definitely not rational enough. Even a kid like you was accepted."

You felt a ping in your chest at his words, feeling as if he wasn't just talking about Midoriya. Maybe you were reading into it too much, growing up you had to read people and quick.

"You erased my quirk?" Midoriya muddled, then gasped as he finally realized who your homeroom teacher was.

"Those goggles... I see! You can erase other people's quirks with your quirk just by looking at them. The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head!"

Your group of classmates then began muttering together, apparently not at all knowing who Eraserhead was. You pretended not to be offended by them not knowing one of your favorite heroes, continuing to watch Aizawa speak with Midoriya with great focus.

Your focus, of course, didn't go unnoticed by a certain ruby eyed boy.

"From what I can tell, you can't control your quirk, can you?" He glared at Midoriya, his quirk still activated as Mirdoriya stood stunned.

"Do you intend to become incapacitated again and have someone save you?"

You thought back to your own exam, you had also passed out after you had taken down the bot, not right away but still. You had used a lot of energy on it just to break it, let alone when you overused the energy you had left to keep you and Kirishima from plummeting to the ground and break like a couple of eggs.

"Th-that's not my intention--"

Midoriya didn't have time to finish as Aizawa's scarf pulled him in close, he still glared at Midoriya.

"Whatever your intention, I'm saying that's what those around you will be forced to do. In the past, there was an oppressively passionate hero who saved over a thousand people by himself and created a legend.  Even if you have the same reckless valor, you'll just be decked and turn into a useless doll after saving one person."

"Izuku Midoriya. With your power, you can't become a hero."

Even you were hooked at his words, though a darker part of you said he was right and that Midoriya without power would be nothing.

Looking down at your hands, you clench your fist because without your power... You would have been dead a long time ago.

"I've returned your quirk. You have two turns for the ball throw. Hurry up and get it over with."

You stop leaning off Kirishima and move away from the group, not far enough for Aizawa to ask what you were doing, but far enough for you to stand on your own while looking at Midoriya.

Unknowing to you was a few of your classmates worrying about you... well, one was worried the other was wondering what you were thinking about.

Your thoughts were thinking of what Aizawa said and how it applied to you as well, how all the teachers that knew about you must be thinking of you. There was no possible way that they didn't know you were living on the streets already, you showed the signs of it and certainly showed it when you were at your exam.

Did they really not want you here? They probably didn't want the public to know they let in a stray. No, that couldn't be that Nezu wouldn't have let you in the school if so. He wouldn't have helped you understand school.

Were they using you for clout? Did they want you to become a hero to say you graduated from their school? Why did you even attend this school? You could have just as easily become a young hero with no help from anyone.

Part of you knew you were thinking too much, but that part was slowly being consumed by self-doubt.

"Smash...!"

You look up just as the ball rockets out of Midoriya's hand, shooting far into the sky and making you all stare in awe at.

"Mr. Aizawa..." Turning to Aizawa with a broken finger and clutched his hands with a strained smile. "I can still move!"

Everyone was shocked and excited by his achievement, getting just above Bakugou's score. Speaking of, you turn to look at Bakugou, but while watching him you're head round out the noise of anyone else.

His mouth hung wide open and he looked as if he had just gotten hit by a semi-truck, his body shaking from shock and ... rage.

"Oh no..." You mutter, bringing up a hand to your face.

You had only known this boy for a day and you could just feel he was about to pull some dumb shit, but were you going to stop it...?

Absolutely not.

"What is the meaning of this?" Explosions came from his hands as he suddenly dashed at Midoriya. "Hey! Tell me what's going on, Deku, you bastard!"

Midoriya, only focusing on his finger before, now had the fear of god's rage pass through him as he did nothing but scream and shake at the quickly approaching raging boy. All too soon a familiar scarf shot out and latched onto Bakugou which immediately stopped him in his tracks with a hard tug on his chest and head.

You cover your mouth to poorly cover up a chuckled that left your chest feeling light, a smile gracing your face as you walked back over to the class, taking a stand next to a highly confused Kirishima. You had no problem admitting it, you were enjoying this thoroughly.

"What the--? These cloths are hard..!"

"They're weapons for capture made of carbon fiber woven together with metal wire made of a special alloy." Aizawa explained, holding back Bakugou as Midoriya no longer feared for his life. "Jeez..."

Aizawa glared at the two boys.

"Don't keep making me use my quirk over and over. I have dry eye."

It's such a waste since his quirk is so amazing!

After releasing his scarf from Bakugou and also ending his quirk, the scarf wrapped around his neck once more and his hair dropped into place.

"So cool... and hot."

You hadn't even realized you said this out loud until not only Kirishima was looking at you funny, but Aizawa turned to glance back at you, his eyes narrowing on you.

You actually felt your soul leaving your body, Kirishima held you under your arms and fanned your face quickly, quietly telling you not to go towards the light.

"We're wasting time. Whoever's next, get ready. "

After knocking out of your close to fainting spell, you watched Midoriya made a wide circle to get around Bakugou to go back to the classes group. You hand put you burning head in your hands, peaking through your fingers as Kirishima rubbed your back telling you it was fine.

But you were more worried about Bakugou, who glared over his shoulder at Midoriya. He called him 'Deku' which... had to mean there was a past between those two. You wondered what kind, what it was like growing up for those two. As a kid, a lot of what happened to you becomes the reason of who you are as you grow.

What happened to Bakugou that made him so angry at the world?

Bakugou turn and locked eyes with you, making you drop your hands from your face and tilting your head at him. He sneered at you and quickly looked away, walking over to a place no one else was standing.

Ah, you thought to yourself, I see now.

A superiority complex.

-----

The rest of the tests were simple.

Sit-ups, which not only took you a while to understand, but you were shit at it.

Seated toe-touch, which you were personally proud to say you were flexible as hell.

And Long-distance run, which wasn't hard for you since you had a lot of running experience in your life.

Over this whole time, you were partnered with Kirishima, who was more than happy to be partnered with you. You both subtly talked about a lot of different things while doing your tests, like how he loves meat and the scar he had on his eye was actually caused when his quirk came to be.

You had opened up about a few things as well. You told him how you've never been inside a car or bus into the day of your exam, you told him how much you loved learning and how if you could live in a library you would, you even told him that you had run from the police once (You had run from them a lot more than once but you weren't going to tell him that).

Now you all stood in front of your teacher, ready for you're results.

"Okay, I'll quickly tell you the results. The total is simply the marks you got form each test. It's a waste of time to explain verbally, so I'll show you the results all at once."

Kirishima stood confidently next to you, you were pretty confident you did fine as well. To be honest, you didn't come in last of any of them, that lovely place was held by the boy who broke his finger.

Aizawa displayed the results projected from his phone and you and Kirishima quickly looked for your names.

Kirishima gasped and threw his arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug, you pat his arm with your own smile.

7. Y/n Uchukyuzo 8. Eijiro Kirishima

"Hell yeah, top ten!"

You chuckle at his excitement looking at all the other results. Upon seeing 'Izuku Midoriya' in 21st place, you grimace and look behind you had the boy. He looked so disappointed in himself as he glared at his broken finger, you then wondered what really was up with his quirk that made it so dangerous to use, even for himself.

"By the way, I was lying about the expulsion."

Silence range through you all as Aizawa said this, his face growing with a weird smile as he continued.

"It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your quirks."

"What the fuck!?" You screamed, along with a few others who were freaking out. Upon you screaming, Kirishima took his arm off you and held them up in defense, smiling as you glare over at him.

"Did you fuckin know, shark boy?!"

He flinched and began a nervous sweat, waving his hands at you and shaking his head as you glare up at him and he feared for his life.

"Eh?! No way, dude!"

"That was a little nerve-wracking, huh?" Sero turned to you and Kirishima, chuckling a little as you glared up at him as well.

"I'll take up the challenge anytime!" Kirishima said, clutching his fist in a pound manner. He quickly put his hands down at his side going stick straight as you glared at him again, he smiled and looked anywhere but you.

"I don't know why you were worried, Y/n, you did great. You're in the top ten." Sero placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to take the heat you had on Kirishima off a bit. Both boys laughed a little as you sighed and your body went limp, shoulders slouched and head down as you suddenly felt tired all over again.

"It wasn't just that..." You mutter, thinking about everything that could have happened if you were kicked out of the school.

But with a shake of your head, you denied thinking about it and turn back to Aizawa.

"With that, we're done here. There are handouts with the curriculum and such in the classroom so when you get back, look over them."

You gently elbow Kirishima in the chest, him and Sero still chuckling at your reaction. To them, you were nothing short of adorable at the moment so they couldn't help but want to fawn over you while you pout and cross your arms, turning away, huffing in annoyance.

"Midoriya--" You look over and see Aizawa handing Midoriya a slip of paper. "Have the old lady fix you in the nurse's office. Tomorrow will be packed with even more rigorous tests. Prepare yourself."

"Hey, Y/n."

You turn your eyes away from Aizawa and Midoriya to look at Kirishima, who was smiling at you with a dumb look in his eyes, which made you sigh.

"You're giving off dumb-bitch vibes right now, so as long as it has nothing to do with me being naked, I'm in."

Kaminari, who had Y/n slowly making his way over to you're group, sputtered at hearing something about you naked and he blushed while laughing his ass off. Kirishima laughed while looking confused, Sero also laughing at what you said.

He shook his and rubbed his neck.

"You're something else, Y/n."

Glancing past the group of boys in front of you, you look to the one ruby eyed one who was staring at you from far away. You both stare at each other, ultimately, he was the one to glance away but you continued to stare as you respond to Kirishima.

"Yeah... I try to be."

[rora-s]

The Derivative  Chapter 7: Commonalities

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 6 

“You know I think the fact that I’m not even questioning the giant projector screen with Alexander Hamilton’s face on it in the living room means that I’ve been living with you guys way too long” I muttered, tossing my bag on the couch as I entered the house. 

“Hello Abby” Uncle C greeted with a chuckle as he looked over the screen and began to mark one of the two versions of Hamilton’s face on the screen. 

“Whattcha doing?” I inquired. 

“The FBI is working on a counterfeiting case and I’m helping determine the differences between some old fake bills and new fake bills made by the same counterfeiter” he explained, pointing out which one of the Hamiltons was which.

I looked over the image “check in the center of his brow” I advised. 

Charlie looked up and quickly circled the defect. “Thank you” he murmured, circling another difference on the treasurer's nostril. 

“Hello” Don called in greeting as he entered the house. 

“Hello” Charlie muttered in response. 

“Hi,” I greeted. 

“What are you doing?” Don asked, eyeing the projector. 

“I’m running a comparison between the counterfeit bills you found earlier today and the older bills that that secret service agent lady gave us.” Charlie explained “there’s a possibility that the small differences may yield some data about their current operation. By the way, I did not mean to cause a problem earlier.'' He added the apology in right along with his sentence. 

“You don’t have to apologize for anything” Don objected “I mean Agent Hall and I are- are- I mean, we worked it out. So…” Don dismissed the issue with a sigh. “You know if I left a box of stuff here?” 

“What kind of stuff?” Charlie inquired. 

“It’s just this one box in particular.” Don explained “when I moved back from Albuquerque. I thought I got everything, but it’s not in my apartment. I can’t remember where I put it” he turned to me “have you seen a box of my stuff” 

I shook my head “I wouldn’t know what it was if I had” 

Don nodded “you check the garage?” Charlie suggested. 

“Yeah” Don replied then the front door opened “that you Dad?” he called heading over. “Hey let me get the door” he offered, helping Alan whose arms were full of groceries. 

“You must have some kind of sixth sense.” Alan declared “I buy rib-eye and you just materialize” 

“Well actually…” Don started then paused “you say rib-eye?” 

“Yeah” Alan nodded. 

“With, like, a baked potato?” he asked Alan just chuckled then he spotted Charlie’s set up. 

“Oh, very nice, Charlie” Alan sighed “so how long is this going to be?” 

“This is just for a few days.” Charlie assured as Don took a seat. “I needed to look at this as soon as I possibly could” Uncle C knelt at his computer and changed the screen to the upper right hand corner of the bills “Now the spiral patterns in money are based on a technique called guilloche. It’s like a wheel within a wheel within a wheel; a pattern created by the additions and multiplications of nested sine waves. Same was used by Faberge to create those little famous eggs” 

“Oh well that explains it” Alan muttered and I chuckled. 

“What does this have to do with the case?” Don questioned. 

“I think they have a new artist,” Charlie declared, “in fact, I'm sure of it.” 

“How can you tell that?” Don asked 

“I’ve been running a wavelet analysis of these spirals I’m talking about.” Charlie informed “mathematicians at Dartmouth use a similar process to test authenticity of masterpiece paintings. Here, look it..” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a real ten “alright ten dollars. Now we don’t often think about it, but someone must’ve drawn this design, right?”

“You’re right?” Don nodded. 

“I want you to think of that artist as a runner on the beach” Charlie gave the visual “he’s leaving footprints which record every decision he makes; faster, slower, closer to the water, farther away. Now these,” he gestured to the screen “are counterfeit bills, a second artist trying to copy the original. A second runner. Now, when that second runner tries to follow the exact same path as the first, it’s impossible. Even if he’s being careful he can’t match the footprints without leaving evidence of himself. Different foot size, different stride, that’s how you spot a forgery. And when a third runner tries to match the footprints, he’ll leave evidence as well, but in a different way than the second runner.” Charlie explained “these two counterfeit bills have two different footprints.”

“Hence the new artist.” Don inferred. 

“You find that artist..” 

“Charlie we can’t find the counterfeiter,” Don objected “let alone the artist” 

“You keep on saying he’s an artist, this guy.” Alan spoke up “he’s not really an artist is he? He’s more like a copier” 

“Well he has to have some skill to draw something so detailed” I commented. 

“It’s actually, it’s more like being able to draw, you know say, the Mona Lisa. freehand.” Don supplied. 

“Oh I see” Alan muttered picking up the grocery bags and heading toward the kitchen. 

“What I can do now, Don,” Charlie continued “is to take this initial comparative analysis and…” 

Don was no longer listening to Charlie instead he got up and pulled out his phone. “Hey David it’s Don. Look, I want to expand the search, okay? Not just counterfeiters, but art forgers. Yeah alright” he hung up the phone and turned to his brother “good work” he declared before heading after Alan into the kitchen. 

“I think we gave him an idea,” I told Charlie. 

“I think you’re right,” the man agreed. 

_______________

The cafeteria was probably my least favorite place in school. At least in the back of the classroom I could tune people out and it was mostly quiet. In the cafeteria everything was loud, people were moving and cliques ran rampant.

I took my tray and headed toward a booth in the corner that was empty. I was almost there when something caught my foot and I fell to the ground, my tray clattering and spraying the chicken noodle soup I had been about to eat everywhere. 

“Watch where you’re going reject!” A girl who had been splashed by my food snapped standing straight up. 

“Really making a habit of this huh street rat?” the girl who had made it a habit to trip me asked from behind as I got to my knees. 

“You could really stand to come up with better insults” I voiced casually keeping the anger out of my voice “you know I’ve been called some pretty creative things and you just ain’t cutting it” 

The girl who’d tripped me scoffed. “This shirt was designer” the girl I had gotten soup on screeched. 

I looked at the blue and white striped top “sorry but I think you got ripped off” I pointed out without thinking. 

“Hey you trying to pick a fight?” a boy asked standing up behind the girl. 

“No, I'm just trying to eat lunch,” I replied cautiously, starting to stand. 

“Yeah well if I were you I’d scram” he told me. I held up my hands in a defensive gesture and reached down to collect my tray. A hand grabbed my bicep yanking me back “I said scram” 

I was tossed back into the girl who had tripped me who launched me forward back toward the guy who was stepping forward fists clenched. “A street rat like you shouldn’t be here” the girl behind me snapped.

“Yeah and a bitch like you shouldn’t be gifted vocal chords looks like nobody wins” I countered looking back at her.

“Why you little-” she threw a punch that caught me in the jaw. I started to go down but grabbed her down with me. 

People had started chanting and gathering as we wrestled on the ground pulling hair, punching, and kicking. I had the upper hand by the time I was being grabbed and pulled off her by a pair of teachers. 

“Enough!” Clive yelled, stepping between us. As the other girl got helped to her feet all I could think was that I shouldn’t have taken Don’s deal. 

________________

3rd POV.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Don murmured. The group began to disperse heading to fill out reports and gather more information connected to this new finding. Don was about to follow when he got a call. 

He glanced at the phone and was surprised to see it was the number of his daughter’s school he sighed before answering “hello” 

“Hello Mr. Eppes this is Mrs. Clive I’m your daughter Abby’s teacher. We’ve talked before” the woman on the other side answered. 

“Yes I remember” Don replied already getting a bad feeling “is she okay?” 

“For the most part” The woman sighed, sounding tired from what Don could tell and slightly annoyed? “She was involved in a fight today at school during lunch” 

“She what?” Don asked immediately, agitated. “What happened?” 

“It was an altercation incited by some other students in the cafeteria” Clive explained “witnesses and video confirmed that the other girl threw the first punch but she’s still going to be having detention for all of next week” 

Don let off a breath his initial anger cooling “do I need to come pick her up?” 

“No she’ll be finishing out the day as normal but I would suggest talking to her about it” Clive stated “she’s right here” 

Don shook his head “yeah put her on” 

“Hello Donald” Abby muttered into the phone. 

“You alright?” he asked first. 

“Yeah I’m fine. Bloody lip some bruising, girl wasn’t that tough” Abby replied and he could visualize her shrugging as she said it. 

“What happened to making friends?” Don inquired. 

“I tried. I got punched” Abby muttered bluntly “does this negate the deal?” 

Don sighed “we’ll negotiate the finer points of the deal later” he paused “how’d the other girl turn out?” 

“Worse then me” Abby muttered and he heard the slight pride in her voice. 

“I don’t want to get more calls at work about you getting in fights” Don stated “but good job defending yourself” 

“Thanks Don” Abby replied a smile in her voice. 

“Yeah kid see you later” he told her. 

“Bye” 

He hung up and pocketed the phone. “What was that about?” Don turned surprised to find Kim looking at him from where she had been gathering files. He hadn’t realized she was still in the room. 

“My daughter got in a fight at school,” he explained. 

“Daughter?” Kim questioned straightening in surprise. 

“Uh yeah” Don muttered realizing how odd this was going to be to explain. “She’s sixteen. Me and her mother were together in college. I didn’t know until her mom died and she was sent to live with me two months ago. Her names Abby” 

“Abby” Kim nodded “you’re a dad. That’s uh that’s not really something I expected to find out”

“Yeah me neither” he joked lightly there was an awkward silent moment between them and he took the moment to retreat from the room. 

______________________

Abby POV. 

“You got in a fight at school?” Alan asked the minute I walked through the front door. 

I sighed “I didn’t start it.” 

“Don called and told me” Alan explained “what happened?” 

“Girl punched me. I punched back. She got suspended. I got detention” I muttered tossing my backpack on the couch. 

“Well why’d she punch you?” Alan pressed. 

I shrugged “she likes to trip kids she doesn’t like going through the halls and call them names I called her one back and she couldn’t take it” 

Alan sighed “Abby, you have to be the better person. Turn the other cheek” 

“My innate ability for sarcasm doesn’t really lend to that” I told him. “Where’s Uncle C by the way. I want to ask if I can help on the case” 

“I think he went downstairs,” Alan explained then looked at me closer. “Is your lips bleeding?” 

I brought a hand up to my lip and touched it causing a little sting. “It's nothing serious” I assured and headed past him toward the basement steps. 

Alan was right behind me. I descended the steps and looked to see Charlie pilfering through a box. “You sure you want to be looking through that stuff?” Alan spoke up behind me. 

The younger man straightened over the box slightly, pictures in his hand “Dad, do you recognize this lady?” he asked, holding up the picture as me and Alan reached the bottom of the steps. Alan passed me and took the photo looking at it and I peered over his arm at it. The image was of my Dad and a woman with long brown hair. She was on his shoulders as he held up his arms proudly. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s Kim, isn’t it?” Alan voiced. 

“That’s Kim Hall,” Charlie agreed. 

“Who’s Kim?” I asked. 

“She and Don lived together in New Mexico” Charlie explained “and, uh, he never told me about it.” 

“Well you know your brother.” Alan sighed. 

“Why do I get the feeling my dad has a lot of ex’s” I muttered. 

Alan made a face and nodded slightly as Charlie packed up the box. “You know we’d never heard your mother’s name until you showed up” Alan explained “Don’s just a very private person” 

“I guess everyone has a right to be private” I conceded knowing there were things I hadn’t told them about me. 

“Even to family?” Charlie sighed. 

______________________

“Alright I’m back” Alan decreed, sitting down across from me and setting a bowl of popcorn on the table. “You didn’t move any of these when I wasn’t here did you?” he gestured to our chess game.

“No of course not” I replied annoyed as I grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl. 

“Alright what’s bothering you?” Alan inquired, moving one of his rooks on the board. 

“What do you mean?” I replied sliding my bishop a couple squares. 

“Well normally a comment like mine would have initiated a snarky response” Alan explained “remember your innate ability for sarcasm? Instead I got a short response. So what is the matter?”  

“Nothing” I replied as he moved one of his pieces and I quickly countered him. 

“Yeah right does this have something to do with the fight at school?” Alan inquired. 

“No” I gave him a look “you might not want to hear this but this isn’t my first fight” 

“Yeah I didn’t want to know that but somehow it’s not really a surprise” Alan sighed “check” I quickly countered the check. “Does it have something to do with Don and this woman?” 

“I just don’t get it,” I voiced. Alan gave me a look and I sighed “It’s just, my mom and me we had this agreement that I wouldn’t lie to her and she wouldn’t keep secrets from me” I explained. “But it’s like with Don” I ended with a huffed breath. 

“Donnie doesn’t really understand that when you have kids you have to talk to them.” Alan explained “now there are somethings that kids don’t need to know about but this woman coming back into his life I do think is something you need to talk to him about” 

“He didn’t even mention her when we talked on the phone earlier” I commented. 

“Well when you talked on the phone there was a more pressing matter” Alan pointed out. I let off a breath and nodded eating some more popcorn. “Abby, I have the feeling communication will never be your and Don’s strong suit but just ask him about it alright?” 

“Alright” I muttered. 

“Oh checkmate” Alan informed. 

“Damn” I sighed “again?” 

“Sure” Alan agreed and started resetting the board. 

I looked into the bowl of popcorn before turning to my grandfather. “Do you have any peanut butter?” 

________________

3rd POV. 

“That’s the good part” Kim commented coming up to Don as they watched the woman who had been held hostage reunite with her husband. 

“Yup” Don agreed. 

“I forgot how much I missed that.” Kim voiced. 

“It’s a good thing, right?” 

“Yeah” Kim sighed “everyone’s already at Kinsella’s” she explained “Figure the Secret Service owes the FBI a few rounds if you want to come.” 

“Well, actually, I got a bit of work to do here,” Don objected. “And I have to go get Abby from my dad’s house so” 

“Okay,” Kim agreed “we are going to trip over each other again, Don.” she pointed out “if you and Terry can be partners, we can at least try to..” 

“Yeah definitely” Don agreed. 

“Okay. well” Kim sighed “first rounds on me.” She started to walk away but paused glancing back at the man “you know that kid of yours is pretty lucky to have you as her dad. I’m sure you’re great at it” 

Don nodded and smiled as the woman left passing Terry as she went. “More interagency politics?” the man’s partner commented in passing. 

_____________________

Don unlocked the apartment door and headed inside followed by Abby. “so you basically had three kids ready to fight you and you still made a snarky comment?” 

Abby shrugged “the one girl was too prissy to throw down and I wasn’t sure the jock would hit a girl” 

“Yeah well” Don muttered, getting into the fridge to get a beer. Abby paused leaning on the counter. 

“So this Kim lady” she began and Don turned to her. “You guys were serious in the past right?” 

“Yeah” Don nodded “we were” 

“Okay” Abby bit her lip which stung a little since it was still cut and shifted on her feet. “You know me and my mom had this pact where we stopped keeping things from each other. And I don’t expect you to tell me everything. I mean I get not wanting to share but if anything comes up or like you know ex-girlfriends appear can you just clue me in. Please?” 

Each word was specifically chosen, Don could tell. She’d been thinking about this. She must have found out from Charlie or Alan. Part of Don felt annoyed at the idea that his relatives had told her about this but he knew she needed to know things. Her life was dependent on his now. 

“Okay” he agreed. Abby nodded with a slight smile. “Still you might want to put a lid on that attitude of yours or next time you might deserve to get punched” Don advised lightening the mood. 

“Hey I got it from you” the girl pointed out with a smirk before heading up the stairs to her room. Don sighed but a small smile came to his face. 

The man headed over to the couch and clicked on the tv. He watched it as he heard Abby moving around upstairs and eventually settle before there was a knock on his door. “Don?” 

He turned confused at his brother’s voice “Charlie?” he got up and headed to the door “you alright?” he opened the door to see his brother holding a box in his arms.

“Hey, I found this box. I thought I’d” he shuffled into the apartment.

“What? Bring it over at 2:00 in the morning?” Don questioned. 

“Yeah” Charlie muttered looking around the apartment. 

“Well keep it down Abby’s asleep” Don advised then he got a look at the box “what did you do? You opened it?” he took it away from his brother heading for the coffee table “what is with you, man? Even when we were kids, you were always going through my stuff.”

“You always had cool stuff” Charlie defended as Don sat down to look through the box's contents. His pace slowed as memories started to drift through his mind “seems like you left a lot of good friends back there, huh?” 

“Yeah, well, family first. Right?” Don muttered looking in the envelope his search had really been pointed toward.

“Right” Charlie murmured, still hanging near the doorway. Don pulled the ring from the envelope and shifted it in his fingers. Then he remembered Charlie was there looking up, they locked eyes and then quickly looked away. Don dropped the ring back in the envelope. 

“Look, I was going to tell you. I just..” Don trailed as he tried to gather his thoughts “I don’t know. I mean, we were in two different worlds. You know how it is.” Don sighed looking at a couple photos now “and mom got sick and… I don’t know.” 

“I understand” Charlie murmured. 

“Yeah?” Don looked for confirmation. 

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded “I agree we’re from, uh from two different worlds” 

“Well not so much lately” Don encouraged when he saw his father’s face fall 

“Yeah” a small smile appeared on Charlie’s face to match his brother’s. 

“See me all the time now.” Don pointed out. 

Charlie nodded “I’ve learned a lot from you, actually” he confessed. 

“Thanks” Don smiled. 

“Okay,” Charlie shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

“You want to watch the rest of the movie” Don suggested pointing to the tv. 

“Okay sure” Charlie agreed, easily coming to sit in the chair next to the couch. 

“It’s a great flick” Don explained moving the box off the coffee table “it’s about baseball” 

“The most statistically driven sport in the world” Charlie commented. 

“You want a beer?” Don offered. 

“No thanks” Charlie objected politely, eyes on the screen. 

“Chip?” 

“I’m okay” 

Abby smiled from her place hidden on the steps. She could tell from the beginning that her uncle and father were from different worlds and she wasn’t sure which she understood more. Still she was glad they could find their common ground, maybe it held hope for a future where her own world made a bit more sense.

Chapter 8 -> 

[clansayeed]

The Interview ― a Bound by Destiny drabble

⥼ Summary ⥽

Nervous, broke, and way under-qualified, Nadya applies for a last-resort secretary job at the illustrious Raines Corp. But a cup of coffee before her interview might just change her life.

note: This piece takes place before the events of the Oblivion Bound series. It takes the events of Bloodbound 1 CH 1 and tailors them specifically to Nadya, and is referenced a handful of times throughout Bound by Destiny.

Happy Birthday Oblivion Bound! On June 29th you turned 1 year old, and I couldn’t be more excited to have so much more of this story to tell. To everyone who has joined me along the way I hope you enjoy this little piece!

check out the fake screencaps for this piece!

word count: 4,902 rating: teen+ content warnings: none find out more: HERE

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

[READ IT ON AO3]

In all the articles she read (that morning, which probably wasn’t a good way to start out even the potential of this job) there was a universal agreement that being the last person interviewed was about as bad as being the first.

But none of those stupid articles told her what to do when she finds herself stuck smack-dab in the middle.

She keeps trying to push up her glasses. There’s a half-crescent probably permanently etched into the bridge of her nose by now. Great first impression to make, honestly.

The conference room door opens and everyone tries to play it cool, tries not to look at the face of the woman who exits. They don’t want to get their hopes up. They don’t want to think three hours of waiting is for nothing.

She leaves just like all the others. The next name is called just like all the others. Four seats to her left the young man stands and adjusts his tie. Runs his tongue over his pearly teeth — and closes the pristine wooden doors behind him.

What had Lily said? Something helpful, probably. Though she’s certain now it was probably mixed in with a whole lot of nonsense. Motivational quotes, stress-relief tips that worked on everyone but the chronically anxious. But, much like how she finds herself, there’s one sliver of usefulness among the chaos.

“Caffeine. If you get the jitters just tell them you’re excited to work there! If not… well you’ll have coffee and that’s a gift on its own.”

The last candidate was interviewed for twenty-three minutes. Before her; thirty-one minutes.

So she rationalizes there’s nothing wrong with leaving her clipboard on her seat and rushing to the lobby for a quick java boost. Hadn’t there been a coffee cart right off to the side…?

It’s only fitting that the last of her freehand cash is spent here. If by some miracle she actually gets the job it’ll be something funny to reminisce on after she gets through the first year.

If she gets through the first year.

The middle of the afternoon has come and gone, now. She looks out through the glass walls of the front atrium to see the sky fading into the ombre of evening light. At this rate the interviewer won’t get to her in time, and she’s pretty darn sure this isn’t the type of place to waste a call back on something as trivial as a secretarial position.

It’s New York. Secretaries are a dime a dozen. That much is obvious.

Now comes the hard part — waiting. Trying not to tap her foot on the expensive marble floors and trying not to look back so much she messes up her hair and trying not to chew her lip so hard she walks into her interview with blood on her teeth.

“Are you alright?”

The first words said to her since she arrived; well… apart from “Complete the forms given before your interview. You will be called in by order of arrival” hammered out by the terse blonde interviewer. The first words and they’re kind and she’s definitely thrown more than a little off-kilter by the whole thing.

And coming from the custom-fit Suit she just happened to stand near, too? Well now she’s wary of flying pigs on the evening weather forecast.

It’s hard not to look at him from the ground up; to take in all of him with the money that seeps from his collar and cuffs and the way his tie pin catches the lights overhead. From the way he carries himself the Suit knows all this; he’s accustomed to it.

Only… her appreciation halts at his eyes. Dark brows just shy of knitted together and a shine in his eyes that has nothing to do with fluorescent bulbs and everything to do with… with…

It’s an impossible sensation. One she’s never felt before. Not just hard to describe but literally — she can’t. There aren’t words for a look like that. Open and honest and genuine and…

“Soy latte for Nadya.”

Is she staring? She feels like she’s staring.

The Suit laughs. It’s the shift in his expression that does it — puts her squarely back inside her own head where everything is all a hectic jumble of professional words and an itemized list of accomplishments. Yup, she was staring. If she gets this job she’ll have to rely solely on home-brewed coffee so as to never meet this man again.

“Are you Nadya?”

The burning in her cheeks is in direct contrast to her chosen blush. But Nadya has a feeling he’s the least likely person to notice that, here. The coffee cart barista on the other hand…

It’s hard to stop her hand from trembling as Nadya reaches out for her coffee. Hopefully not enough to notice, certainly not enough to spill anything, but nope nope nope about mission — the Suit noticed. The Suit noticed!

“I’m sorry,” her apology; a compulsion, “I—that was super rude of me. Oh my god, I… probably look like such a weirdo.”

“A bit,” he muses in reply. But he doesn’t seem all too bothered by it? It has the gears in her head turning backwards trying to understand.

“At the risk of sounding vain —”

“—said every vain person ever?”

“Too true; but I digress. You have nothing to be sorry for — it’s not the first time something like that has happened.” He’s on the nose there — between the polished cufflinks and his smile just the same the guy definitely sounds vain.

The first sip of her latte is always the same — tentative, just a quick taste to make sure her stomach isn’t gonna regret it later — but Mr. Vanity doesn’t look away which is a little unnerving to say the least.

“Just nerves then, I assume?”

“Wait — I’m sorry?”

If Nadya had to wonder where any sense of ‘cool and calm’ she might have had went she’s found it here, all soaked up in (probably) Italian loafers. “Just a second ago,” his hands slide into his pockets, “you looked… well I thought you were about to faint.”

Oh. “Right—yeah—nerves,” and he didn’t ask but she rambles when she’s like this so really it’s his fault for starting a conversation, “I’m actually here for a job interview. My first big gig since moving to the city, you know?”

The man nods appraisingly. “I remember the feeling well. But this office is the same as any other on Wall Street, I assure you.”

Yeah, that’s Nadya’s problem.

“I’ve never worked in a place like this. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Ever ever.”

“Ah,” when he nods not even a hair comes out of place, “‘Ever ever,’ that’s a pretty big deal.”

“The roof over my head literally depends on it, so…” And normally Nadya would take one look at a guy like this and say without a shadow of a doubt that he’s probably never had to worry about that sort of thing. But there’s something about him — something different than the earlier strangeness, but something nonetheless — that tells her he might just take her by surprise.

She really should be getting back to her seat.

But even with every relaxation technique in her arsenal this—right here—this is the best she’s felt about herself all day. So there’s no harm in staying an extra minute or two, right?

The man laughs unprompted and Nadya casts him a curious look. He seems almost bashful about it.

“You just reminded me of my first job, is all.”

“Let me guess — right in this very office but, hm… intern? No, you look more like the humble mail room type.”

His look turns appraising. “Do I really?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“If you have to ask that then perhaps not.” Yet their teasing is as well-meaning as it is spontaneous; enough for him to actually continue, “Actually my first job — well, first paying job that is — was a cobbler. You know, for shoes.”

Oh, Nadya knows. Yeah, in fact she has a funny story pretty similar having to do with a frazzled third-grade substitute teacher and a Bunsen burner. Since it had been, after all, a unit on Colonial America.

But that’s a level of sass they probably haven’t risen to just yet. She just nods instead.

“It was a small business, well—it was a small town. My father knew the owner and one thing led to another. I was pretty nervous on my first day too.”

He’s just trying to help, Nadya reminds herself. However strange and probably untrue his story may be, there’s no denying his sincerity. Just a successful man talking to a not-even-secretary trying to show a little empathy. Frankly Nadya isn’t sure she wouldn’t be doing the same thing were the roles reversed.

That’s just what kind people did for others. The world would be a better place if everyone was like that.

The cart barista doesn’t even get the chance to put down the drink fully when he’s reaching for it. Some people just need their java — Nadya can totally relate. But she swears the Suit winks at the girl. Though it could definitely just be a trick of the light.

Nadya’s all prepared for the “this was nice but we’ll never cross paths again” sort of goodbye when he returns.

Instead he throws her for a loop and places his cup at one of the two little silver tables that serve as the cart’s cafe. He pulls out a chair with a smile her way — is that supposed to be meant for her?

He catches onto her surprise quickly. “I hope you don’t think me too forward. I was just enjoying our chat and thought… why leave it there?”

Uhm, because you’re a man with a salary high enough to look the way you do? “Oh — I mean its… that’s really sweet of you but I should be…” she throws a look in the direction of the conference room, “getting back. Being late for the interview doesn’t seem like the best impression to make.”

The man laughs; some joke Nadya isn’t privy to. “If that’s all you’re worried about — don’t be. She actually gets a kick out of drilling people in there.”

Her resolve crumples at his hopeful smile. “And I’ll vouch for you.” Oh look she’s already sitting down.

“Well if we’re actually doing this, how about a name?” She tries to look at his cup but can’t quite catch it. If she didn’t know any better Nadya would say he actually turned it away while taking a sip.

“My name is Adrian. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nadya.”

“Same to you, Adrian.”

Nadya discovers very quickly that this isn’t just about enjoying a chat. Judging by the looks they get — though Nadya could easily be chopped liver — and the curt nods here and there, it’s obvious Adrian is pretty important. He’s just using her to play hooky.

Which only earns him points in her book.

So does the way he props his elbow on the tabletop to rest his chin on an open palm. “So I have to ask you, Nadya, if I may of course.”

“Ask away.”

“If you’ve never ever worked in a corporate setting before — why now? This isn’t the kind of job one finds in the Classifieds.”

A fair question. She laughs softly. “Is it bad if I say I don’t really know? Oh god, it probably is.”

“I wouldn’t say bad, but the hiring interviewer will probably ask something along the same lines.”

“You’ve… got a good point there. Okay,” she makes a little show of sitting up straighter and pushing her glasses all the way up until she knows there’s little red dots between her eyes; Adrian’s smile is totally worth it.

“So the salary’s good but I’m sure you know a little bit about that.”

He chuckles. “A little bit, yes.”

“And threat-of-eviction aside; I caught the listing on one of those random alumni emails from my college. You know — the ones where they make it out like they’re trying to help you succeed but they’re really used to find grads with the biggest paychecks to hound them for donations.

“It definitely wasn’t my first choice. I don’t think I have to tell you that I’m pretty out of my element.” She pauses when Adrian’s brow creases just the smallest bit.

“What would you say is your element then?”

“That’s just it. I’ve got absolutely no clue. I figured I could do the basic job okay — I actually enjoy putting schedules and things together and the rest — all the business-y parts — I hoped I could just kinda pick up along the way. Do I think this is going to be my calling? No idea, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t put all my effort into the work.

“But you can’t find something without trying, you know? I trust my gut and… figure I’ll know what I’m looking for when I see it.”

Because Nadya had done herself the disservice of not trusting her gut when she first moved out here. Get a part-time job or two to pay the bills and loans, she figured, and just keep looking for that perfect one.

Yeah. That had gone over well.

Interview after interview — all with the same depressing result: the cheery false-apology letter and some variation of “we thank you for your interest but we will be continuing to pursue other candidates.”

Adrian is polite and attentive the whole time, too. Even when she gets to the unnecessary descriptions of Lily’s cheer-up dinners. Nadya knows she has a tendency to ramble when she’s nervous — but every time she apologizes he smiles and shakes his head; tells her “no apologies necessary, please go on,” and sometimes follows up with a thoughtful question or consideration that could only come from someone actually genuinely taking part in the conversation.

He’s kind. She’s surprised to find that in a place like this but he is. And before long Nadya finds herself wondering why she was ever nervous at all. Too bad he isn’t the one interviewing, she thinks, I might actually have a chance.

“That’s…” Adrian leans back in his seat with a forced exhale, “that’s quite a story.”

She knows where this always goes. “I knew it; way too much sharing. I was hoping to try and put a positive spin on it — for the position, I mean. Answering phones, scheduling meetings, that kind of stuff. I’m sor—”

“Nadya, please don’t apologize again. You don’t need to.” Then he reaches over and has a hand over hers and he’s cold, like weirdly as cold as the atrium itself, or maybe she’s just too darn flush from embarrassing herself. “Never apologize for the things that make you you. And give yourself a bit of credit, while you’re at it. I’ve lived and worked here for a long time and I’ve seen a lot of people settle for less. Even people like yourself.”

“English majors who have no business in Business?”

“People who don’t quite know what they want out of life. You’re young, Nadya —” which is rich coming from him, he can’t be more than thirty, “— you don’t have to have it all planned out right this second. You’ll miss out on too much if you try.”

Adrian’s words leave her speechless. She makes a mental note to let him know just how rare that is later on. Not just because he could be an awesome life coach but because there’s no doubt in Nadya’s mind that he means every single word.

No, Adrian can’t be more than thirty. But when she fixes her glasses and looks him in the eyes he looks like he’s a hundred years old. Wistful and wanting and wise all at the same time. Nadya’s left feeling so small and so very very young when he takes his hand back.

Nadya tries to recover her composure behind the last bit of her latte but is left wanting; nothing but soy gone cold and somehow tasting of the bottom of the paper cup. He watches her thoughtfully all the while; even when she gestures to his empty cup and gets a nod in thanks when she drops them both in the nearest recycling bin.

She hasn’t even sat back down when Adrian abruptly asks; “May I see your resume?” And there’s no reason why not so she reaches down—

And remembers with absolute horror that her resume is on the clipboard. at her seat. in her spot in line. back where the interviews are.

“Son of a biscuit.” Well, there’s no use in rushing over there now. Even the cart barista has left for the evening long since arrived. Nadya looks around and takes in the practically empty lobby with a sinking pit in her stomach and a new story of failures to add to her list.

Somehow “I didn’t get the job because a really nice, sweet, very-much-employed guy made me miss my interview” probably isn’t going to go over well with the landlord.

But she isn’t the only victim — if it’s any consolation. It isn’t. Adrian looks around with a “huh,” of pleasant surprise and checks his watch. “Well Kamilah’s going to kill me,” because to him this is something worth joking about, apparently, “but what else is new.”

“I should go.” I need to go. But she just slumps a little deeper into her seat.

He looks at her sympathetic; good, he should feel bad, she wants to say but he doesn’t deserve that kind of spite. She shouldn’t have left the line.  

“Could I ask just one more question before you go?”

Nadya can’t help but want to start asking her own questions. Ones like why is he asking all these questions, why does he care, does this mean she can still ask him to vouch for her; all that jazz. She doesn’t though.

“Why did you move to New York?”

From the look on his face Adrian can tell he’s caught her off guard. “I just mean — like I said, Nadya, I’ve lived here for a long time. Met all sorts of different people with all sorts of different lives and histories and reasons of their own. Sometimes I think I’ve heard just about every reason you can imagine.” But even though he tries to laugh it off he definitely meant it, and he’s definitely interested in the answer.

“And…” she splutters a bewildered laugh, “and what, you think I’ll have a new one?”

He shrugs. “Maybe not new, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be interesting.”

“It’s not some heart-wrenching story —”

“That’s okay.”

But he’s serious. It takes Nadya a minute to fully believe him but he is, and she does. Hope you didn’t get your hopes up too much.

“I was really scared when I graduated from college. School was… my whole life up until right then. And now people were expecting all these things from me and… and I’d never done any of them before. Suddenly I was facing the rest of my life and I was starting it terrified. But I still had to do it; scared or not.

“So I figured it wasn’t a bad idea to try and get all the things I was scared of out of the way then. It seems stupid now…”

“Not at all.” Nadya looks up when she realizes she’s been focused on her hands in her lap and Adrian’s looking at her like he’s breathless. It’s weird, not gonna lie a little bit of a confidence booster, but also… well, scary. In its own way.

“And I’ve got this really bad habit of being stubborn, even to myself, so I just… said go big or go home. No place I can think of bigger and scarier than New York.”

For a second she thinks he’s laughing at her for being such a terrible cliche. But… he’s not. It’s just a laugh. What else do you do when you’re happy?

“Are you still scared here?”

“Every day,” but Nadya shrugs it off; just like she has for months now, “and one day I won’t be. Dunno when, or how, but I won’t be. So I should probably stick it out until then.”

“I’d like to see that day.” You and me both.

But if he’s gonna sit there and be all charming and intellectual and weirdly invested in her personal life journey then she can too. “What about you,” Nadya asks with just a teensy bit of cheek; which has Adrian laughing again but now she’s into the joke so let her roll with it, “wait — lemme guess — all the cobbler jobs were taken so you figured a fancy tech corporation was the next best thing?”

“Actually,” somehow his one question has turned into… well into this but he’s nice and this building is nice and why not, Nadya? “That’s an interesting story. My father took me to the city when I was old enough to help with my share of the work, you see, and —”

“Adrian! Where the hell have you been all afternoon?”

Every clack of her heels is like an ice pick to the tiles — Nadya’s glad she’s not the only one who flinches at the sound. Or maybe it’s the shrillness of the voice the shoes must belong to. She knows that voice, actually—

Because her life is a living nightmare Nadya looks over Adrian’s shoulder to see the woman from the hiring interviews marching towards the pair of them; face flushed and a stack of clipboards in hand and oh god how awful would it be to ask to steal her resume back because printing them out at the library is such a chore?

Nadya shrinks in her seat and prays not to be recognized — but Adrian seems used to such outbursts. He throws Nadya a reassuring smile (which totally works, not that Scary Interviewer would give her a chance to thank him) before turning in his seat to greet her face to face.

“Nice to see you too, Nicole.”

Nicole gives a long-suffering sigh and ignores Nadya’s presence entirely. She’s totally cool with that. “That doesn’t answer my question. I finished with interviews over an hour ago — and what did I return to?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Three missed calls from Ahmanet, no signature on the Volenti files, and you still haven’t decided on which of the Red Site projects you want to endorse at next year’s conference. Which you should have decided a week ago.”

Adrian has the patience of a saint. Which comes as no surprise since he did just listen to Nadya’s ramblings for more than an hour for sure. He lets the woman get everything out of her system without even so much as a tick of the brow.

And has the dumb idea of gesturing to Nadya as a reply. “Nicole, have you met Nadya?”

She double-takes with the same concern she might give a leaf on the wind. “Miss Sayeed wants to move the meeting to her offices for the inconvenience.”

“Nadya was one of the applicants from earlier today.”

Okay — that works. Not that Nicole looks at her, now fully even in disdain, with anything remotely close to respect. She sweeps her eyes over Nadya; held frozen by the spite in her steely stare.

“I remember you. The Walk Out.”

Is it hot in here or is she losing her nerve? “Well — actually I —”

Nicole cuts her off. “You walked out, did you not?”

“I went to grab a coffee.”

“Oh, well that changes things.”

“Wait—really?” Dumb move.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

Adrian clears his throat politely for their attention. “Nicole — I’m sorry for setting your schedule back.” She nods, though it doesn’t seem much like she’s accepted the apology. “I’ll worry about Kamilah, and the other things won’t take me more than an hour. I do have one favor to ask.”

It occurs to Nadya then that Nicole, who very much wants to say no—that’s obvious, can’t. Which is just weird since she doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who does favors for anyone.

“Yes, Mister Raines?”

Forget tomato red. All of the color drains out of Nadya’s face at once. And the reassuring smile Adrian tries to offer doesn’t do a darn thing.

Mister Who-Now?

“If you could go ahead and cancel tomorrow’s interviews I’d appreciate it. Tell them that particular position has been filled but they’re free to reapply for something similar under one of the division heads, maybe?”

“Why in the world would I —” If looks could kill Nicole would most certainly have sent her six feet under. “No.” Though this time Nadya has to agree. Probably the only thing they would agree on ever in the history of all time.

“No way.”

But Adrian just beams. “I just came down here to stretch my legs and grab a coffee. I had planned on sticking my head in for one or two of your interviews, Nicole, but —”

“We agreed it was best I handle filling the position, sir.” She grinds the word out but, to her credit, Nicole’s face is never less than cool and collected. “You haven’t seen her resume, you have no idea if she’s even qualified.”

“You’re half right,” he replies, “but I’m sure if she didn’t have some idea of what the secretary position requires she wouldn’t have even made it to the interviews, right? The rest of it, all that ‘business-y stuff’ I’m sure she can pick up along the way.”

Oh that’s not cool. Not cool at all. Playing Undercover Boss and then using her own words against her? Wait — why isn’t it cool? Why isn’t she jumping for joy and already trying to convince Lily not to spend money they don’t yet have on pizza?

Maybe because it feels a little underhanded? By some random luck she ends up talking with Adrian Raines, CEO of Raines Corp over coffee and suddenly she gets the job over a bunch of way more qualified people?

But this is what she wanted. It’s the job. So why…

Oh.

Nadya’s here for the interview but she knows there are people who want this job and have the experience to boot. Nadya’s trying to refuse the job she needs because that would mean something went right, and things going right never ends well.

She’s scared.

The loudness of Nicole’s departure startles Nadya out of her self-realization. She glances up and Adrian is still sitting there, albeit a little more humble than he looked just a moment ago. He has the decency to seem apologetic.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself fully.”

“Why didn’t you?” Now it’s Nadya’s turn for questions.

Adrian shrugs. “These days Nicole is the only person who’s ever really honest with me here. Imagine her trying to hold back her opinion on something.”

“I can’t.”

“Exactly. But everyone else, even my own employees, they aren’t. Not entirely. I’ll admit, Nadya, when you didn’t know who I was, I saw a chance to allow myself a little sincerity. To be genuine with someone.”

Joke’s on you, she thinks wryly, I would have been this much of a mess anyway.

Still; it doesn’t sit right with her. “But don’t you realize that because you did that you weren’t sincere with me?” And how could she work for someone who wasn’t honest with her? Who didn’t allow her that basic decency?

“I do now. And I understand if that keeps you from accepting the job. I didn’t sit down with you to interview you in secret, though, please know that.” And because he knows her question before she even opens her mouth; “You were on your own, nervous, and I wanted to help — if I could. I was telling the truth when I said you reminded me of myself.

“I say that because I think, if you were in my position, maybe you would have done the same thing.”

I wouldn’t have lied, though it’s a bitter thought — and was lying by omission technically lying? Especially if it’s for everyone’s greater good?

Man her head hurts.

“Nadya…?”

She inhales with all of her might and nods. “One more question.” Which makes him smile — he appreciates the symmetry of it.

“Go ahead.”

“What made you decide to offer the job to me?”

There’s a little bit of pride in Nadya when he doesn’t have an answer right away. Adrian takes his time and really seems to mull it over — or if he’s doing it for show he’s extremely convincing.

“I didn’t know what I was looking for until I saw it.”

Nadya can’t not roll her eyes. She can’t not smile though, either.

Finally Adrian stands and nods towards the sleek elevators at the far end of the lobby. “Should we go ahead and get the paperwork started? I can show you your desk, we’ll set up your number in the system — all quick things, really.”

It’s awfully assumptive of him, but she is standing and grabbing her purse so… is it?

“Bold of you to assume I’ve accepted the job, Mister Raines.”

“Please, call me Adrian.”

[senpai-no-lie]

Window Pane Cookies

I try to only post recipes and such on Tumblr that I think are reasonably reproducible for people without fancy equipment, so no pictures of my bomb rotisserie chicken.

However, today's subject is window pane cookies! I'm going on a day (or so) trip to Lousiana tonight/tomorrow to visit dear friends, which necessitates baking as a gift for hosting me. Along with the more standard fare of chocolate chip cookies and brownies, I went for these cookies (I would've done pound cake, but it is very resource intensive and I am broke atm lol)

Cookie Base: Spiced Shortbread

You could use sugar cookie dough, I suppose, but I find shortbread to have a richer flavor and be less finicky than sugar cookie dough. I take my traditional shortbread cookie recipe and add spices so it pairs extra well with the butterscotch, but we'll get to that

Ingredients:

Oven, preheated to 350 F

1/2 cup softened butter (2, 8-ounce sticks of butter)

1/2 cup of sugar

1 tsp vanilla (or any extract you'd like; you can double this amount too, if you'd like)

2 cups of all purpose flour (I imagine the type of flour you use is pretty flexible

Spices

Candy/Sprinkles

Spices?

Yes! The amount and type I use depends on my mood. Spices could be a sachet of herbal or chai tea, cinnamon, and so on and so forth.

Typically I do around one teaspoon of cinnamon, but in the picture above I did (2 tsp cinnamon, 1/5 tsp ginger, 1/2 tsp clove, and 1/8 tsp cloves-- so approximately pumpkin spice proportions)

Candy?

This is also pretty flexible! I typically use butterscotch instead of the more typical jolly ranchers, but I found those granulated sprinkles work just fine too. Do not reccomend using regular sugar-- it doesn't melt too well. You could also use jam/jelly, though I'm not sure how well it'll stay in the hole.

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 F, if not already done

If butter is not already softened from sitting on the counter a while, place both sticks in the microwave for 15-20 seconds. We do NOT want them melted, so be cautious

Put your to-be-smashed candy in a paper bag and take it out into your garage, place where you've got hard floors. Beat the hell out of it with a rubber mallet until it's powdered. I usually use around 12 candies.

Come back inside to the kitchen. In a bowl mix butter and sugar together until it looks more like a spread than a gritty mess

Stir in vanilla and spices

Stir in flour in 1/2 to 1 cup batches until incorporated. It's best not to overmix cookie dough-- it can toughen it up

Pull a sheet of parchment paper to cover your countertops and sprinkle some flour onto it. Plop your dough ball onto there and pat it, your hands, and the rolling pin with flour. Roll out the dough until it seems like an acceptable thickness

Using a biscuit cutter (around two inch diameter) or a large cookie cutter, cut out the outer shape. Use a smaller cookie cutter (or freehand it with a knife; whatever works) to make a space for the candy.

Place these "doughnuts" onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper

Take your smashed candy/sprinkles and painstakingly fill the hole (I used a 1/8 teaspoon for precision, though time consuming. A spoon is fine too if you don't care about the cookies being perfect)

Bake for 11 minutes and allow to cool completely before removing from pan

You should be able to reroll the dough and easily make 2 dozen or more cookies.

I made these with just butterscotch! Sky's the limit.

[spearfeld]

1, 3, 16 and 22 :)

1.  What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)?

This is actually kind of a complex question!! Usually it’s my macbook, but when quarantine started, I decided to try writing freehand. Picked up one of my pretty dollar-store composition notebooks, and within two weeks had written almost 100 pages into it in a new novel. I have, uh, since stopped working on that one because quarantine gets to you, man, and it was starting to feel more like work, so I decided to focus more on fanfic. 

Alternatively, I just recently set up my PC in a way that allows me to actually use it more frequently, and I feel like having a change in scenery -- even if it’s just going from one desk to another or one computer to another -- can be extremely helpful when writing. However, I miscalculated how high my desk chair went and with my keyboard tray completely broken off, my hands are now at a very uncomfortable angle when typing at my desk. My dad is coming over tonight to help install a new tray, which should hopefully alleviate some of those issues and I’ll be able to use my desktop to write more affectively.

3.  What is your favorite thing to write?

As in, what? Like fanfiction vs original work? That entirely depends on my mood. I love writing fanfic, especially when I get super into it like I did writing The Whole Story and like I’ve been doing with my Life is Strange fics, but -- and I know this is just a personal thing I need to overcome -- a lot of times when I’m spending a lot of time on fanfic, I feel like I’m not actually accomplishing anything, because I can’t make money off my fanfiction. 

But then sometimes when I’m writing original stuff, I love it because it’s like, super cool to be telling this completely new story with new characters that nobody knows yet so I can make them do whatever I want, and I think about how cool it would be for somebody to pick up my book and fall in love with it the same way I fell in love with Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda, something that really gives somebody a passion for reading and writing, or even just something that makes them feel seen. But it’s also super overwhelming at times, like, am I really good enough to write this story? What if people don’t like it? What if I can never get it published? What if I’m just so terrible that nobody would even consider it? 

With fanfic I don’t have that worry because it’s just like, it’s supplemental stuff for people who already love the source material, so people are gonna love it even if it kinda sucks (you know, unless you make incredibly controversial decisions on a whim that piss off an entire fanbase  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

16. Can you tell us anything about your current WIP?

Sure! For my original stuff, the novel I was working on is about this boy named Kyle, who’s in love with his friend Jacklyn. Jacklyn, for reasons, thinks that Kyle is gay, and when she accidentally finds a poem he wrote about her, she assumes it’s about their male friend, and to cover up the fact that it’s actually about her, he goes along with it, and pretends to be gay. This is all just a super roundabout way to get a fake dating plot going, as Kyle, in an effort to keep up appearances, asks his former childhood best friend and current only openly-gay kid at school, Grayson, to pretend to be his boyfriend.

On the fanfic side of things, if you’re not a fan of Life is Strange 2, it won’t make a whole lot of sense, but if you’re following my fics, you can look forward to Sean going through a LOT of character development and making a lot of progress with his mental health in the next few chapters of Stay Strange, and once that story is finished, you can expect another multi-chapter story, this time being an AU where Sean and Daniel go to live with their grandparents after [REDACTED].

22. A fanfiction cliché you can’t help but love?

But there’s only one bed!!!

Send me some fanfiction/writing-related asks!

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

It Only Takes A Taste

1 ||

Summary: A bunch of kids from Utah compete in the annual Kids Baking Championship. Between difficult challenges, silly moments of fun, and everything in between, they start to form bond between each other. Kids that would never have interacted form friendships so strong; it only takes a taste to know that someone will be a part of your life for a long time.

Chapter 1: Cookies

Word Count: 3015

Read on AO3

“Alright, c’mon look alive. Don’t worry about the lights being too bright, you’ll get used to it,”

Eight kids were herded into a huge room, decked out with all the latest kitchen appliances, and more sprinkles than even the most skilled mathematician could count. A few were bouncing on their feet, feeling a surge of adrenaline spike through their bodies. One was standing in the back, keeping his head down and mumbling things under his breath. Two girls could not stop squealing about how excited they were.

“Okay, in three, two, one, let’s get rolling!”

Two adults with big smiles burst through the doors, causing all the children to erupt in applause and cheers.

“Welcome, everyone, to the kids baking championship,” the lady exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “we’re your hosts, Veronica and Drew, and we are so excited to see you all here!”

“As you know,” Drew started, “we have searched all around the state for the best kid bakers, and we’re selected you all for your outstanding creations. Throughout the coming weeks, you will all be faced with challenges designed to test your skills as a baker. And, at the end, one of you will be crowned the champion,”

“And let’s not forget that the winner gets,” Veronica paused, as all the kids created the effect of a drumroll as they drummed their hands against their thighs, “ten thousand dollars!”

The kids erupted into applause again, a few of them screaming and shaking the person next to them.

“Aren’t you excited?” a boy with dark brown hair said, turning around to face a girl with a head of curls, and a boy with perfectly coiffed blond hair.

“I’m here to win,” she responded, crossing her arms smugly, “what with all my experience, it should be pretty easy,”

The boy shrunk a little at that, toying with the hem of his apron. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this.

“I’m so excited to be here,” the blonde boy cut in, smiling so wide that it reached his eyes, “I’m TJ, by the way,”

“Cyrus,” the shorter boy greeted, turning his attention to the judges.

“For today’s challenge, we want you to make a dozen cookies, using the ingredient that each of you have been given,” Drew explained, “you all have a card at your stations, and when we say go, you’ll have ninety minutes to bake and decorate your cookies,”

A hush fell over the group of kids, the gears turning in their minds.

“And cut! Alright, back into the interview rooms, please,”

Drew and Veronica pointed the kids towards the room, and the each stood in line, waiting to be interviewed. Cyrus made sure to try and stick close to TJ.

“Hi, I’m Buffy, I’m fourteen years old. I live in in Murray, Utah,” she started, smiling, “I’ve been baking ever since I could walk. I’ve baked things for my school bake sales, birthday parties, and on the weekends at my sleepovers. I think that I’m going to be the kids baking champion because I’ve got the heart, and the sweet thumb,” she said, giving the camera a thumbs up.

TJ and Cyrus peered through the window, watching her interview. They couldn’t hear anything, but they could see her moving her lips.

“Are you guys nervous?” a girl from behind piped up, jumping up to try and see what was happening in the little room.

“Not really,” TJ replied, “I mean, this is just for fun, right?”

“I guess,” she replied, “I’m Andi,”

“TJ,” he greeted, offering her a smile, “and this is Cyrus,” he added, pointing to the boy next to him.

“Next!” the man inside called, ushering the small girl inside.

“Oh, uh, hi, I’m Andi. I’m fourteen years old I’m from Beaver, Utah,” she started, kicking her legs under the stool that she sat on, “I love baking things for my friends for their birthdays. If I win the competition, I’m going to convince my parents to get me a dog,” she giggled, smiling for the first time that day.

The day went on, each of the kids going inside and doing their mini interview for the pilot episode of the show. TJ talked about basketball, Cyrus mentioned that he wanted to buy a pool table, Jonah said something about getting uniforms for his frisbee team, and the rest of the day went by in a blur. By the time they were all done, it was nearly noon and time to start the first round.

All the kids waited at their stations, nervously tapping their fingers against the tables. Andi’s heart was in her throat, and she could practically feel herself seizing up. Cyrus focused on his breathing, shutting his eyes. A red-haired boy named Gus tapped his feet anxiously, awaiting the cue.

“Alright bakers, you have ninety minutes to make and decorate a dozen cookies with your given ingredient,” Veronica started, “and your time starts. . .now!”

Anticipation filled the air, as the kids tore open their envelopes to reveal what ingredient they’d been give.

“I got cinnamon!” Andi shouted, scampering over to the spices to grab it quickly, before she started to make anything.

“I have peanut butter!” Buffy exclaimed, taking out a few bowls from underneath of her station.

“I have. . .macadamia nuts,” Cyrus mumbled, shaking his head. He was not fond of macadamia nuts, and he was really not looking forward to tasting it when he made his cookies.

“Coffee beans?” TJ questioned, reading over the words again to make sure that he didn’t misread it. Yup, it said coffee beans. He felt all his knowledge of baking fall out of his brain and onto the floor; it was like he was in the kitchen for the first time. People around him were grabbing ingredients left and right, and he just stood there frozen.

“TJ, what are you making?” Cyrus asked, leaning over from his station, “TJ?”

“Oh, uh, something with coffee,” he mumbled, pulling out bowls and whisks at random, “I have no idea what I’m going to do,” he admitted, starting to put together the basics of a cookie dough, “what are you making?”

“Something with macadamia nuts,” he said with low enthusiasm, but TJ perked up at that.

“Those are my favorite! They go really well with blueberries,” he advised, turning the mixer up to a higher speed.

Cyrus brightened, hurrying over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of blueberries. “Thanks,” he smiled, cutting them up into halves as his dough mixed, “maybe you could brew some coffee and turn it into a glaze?”

TJ’s whole face lit up, scooping out some of the beans and walking over to the coffee machine. “You’re the best,” he called out, turning on the machine.

Cyrus ducked his head, scooping his cookie dough out of his machine. The camera man in front of him tried to capture whatever expression was on his face, but Cyrus kept his face down until the man moved away to see what Buffy was doing. She replied with the utmost confidence, always smiling, always standing proudly.

“Bakers, you have just one hour left! Make sure you have enough time for your cookies to cool before you decorate them!”

Andi groaned, rolling out her dough and cutting them into rounds. She couldn’t find the cookie cutter, so she went for cutting them out freehand with a knife. They weren’t perfectly even, but they were going to have to do.

“Does anyone have the sanding sugar?” a girl named Natalie called.

“I’ve got it,” a blonde boy by the name of Reed replied, rushing over and nearly dropping it on his way there.

Cyrus looked around; it was nearly pure chaos. Under the bright lights and time restraints, he felt more stressed than he ever had. Baking was usually something that brought him peace, but this seemed to do the opposite. After he put his cookies in the oven, he breathed a sigh of relief.

That feeling didn’t last long.

“Oh, bakers!” Veronica drawled, walking out, “you know what cookies go great with? Milk,” she said, “but we don’t want to have to wash dishes. We want you to make two edible cups out of your cookie dough!”

TJ slammed his fist against the table, pushing aside his remaining dough. He tried his best to mold it into the shape of a cup; they looked. . .almost like cups. More like misshapen bowls that he’d made in pottery class.

Cyrus decided that making cups out of dough with nuts in it was not the easiest thing in the world. They were oddly misshapen, and nuts were jutting out from all sides. It would have to suffice, he supposed, as he placed them in the oven.

“This isn’t even that hard,” Buffy puffed, making two small cups that could probably hold a teaspoon on milk, “all you gotta do is bake them,”

Other kids scrambled to get their cups done. Things smelled like they were burning, which were probably Reed’s cookies considering he was wafting away smoke from his tray of cookies. Cyrus felt awful for him, and wanted to help, but he knew he had to focus on his own cookies.

“For my decoration, I’m going to try and make a brittle to put it on top,” he explained to the camera man in front of him. He really didn’t understand why people needed the cameras to be so close; what if he got flour, or worse, his caramel on it?

“Decorations, decorations,” Andi mumbled, perusing the pantry for something to top her cookies with. Spying the fondant and a rack of food colors, she grabbed the off the shelf, and hurried back to her work station.

If the viewers wanted a definition of hot mess, they could take a peek at Gus’ station. Flour was everywhere, there was no clean bowl, and nobody could actually see the table. He had cookies and the baked cup, but his station was an absolute mess.

“We’re getting down to the wire, bakers! Just ten minutes left!”

TJ puffed out a breath, his hands shaking a little as he spooned the glaze over the cookies. They were a little messy, admittedly, but he was satisfied with them. He peered over at Cyrus’ station, where he was tapping the tray on the counter to break the brittle. The pieces were misshapen, looking like broken glass, but he supposed that’s how a brittle was done. He’d never made one before.

“Get it on the plate!”

Cyrus could feel the beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face. His tongue was out, deep in concentration as his hands struggled to place all the shards of brittle on the cookies. He could hear the judges calling out the last few seconds, and with all the stress, their voices were muffled.

“Time’s up!”

Cyrus stepped back, putting his hands up and dabbing at his hairline. The last ninety minutes were a blur, and he could barely remember anything. The cameras cut, and the kids were ushered into a waiting room. One by one, they were picked to come to the judges to have their creations critiqued.

“So,” TJ started, taking a seat by Cyrus, “what brings you here?”

Cyrus scoffed, crossing his legs. “Probably the same thing that brings everyone here. I’m an alright baker and I wouldn’t mind winning some money,”

“Alright?” Jonah piped up, “we’re, like, the best in the state, dude! Don’t sell yourself short,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes, attention drawn to the door as soon as a man poked his head in. “Cyrus, you’re up,” he called, waving him towards him.

“Good luck man,” TJ said, clapping him on the back as Cyrus walked away. Andi sat nervously in one of the chairs. Reed was cursing under his breath; the judges noted that his cookies were burned, and he stormed out of the room before they finished judging. The producers planned to air this at the very beginning of the episode to reel in the viewers: typical.

“Cyrus, tell us what you made today,”

As Cyrus explained, he saw the judges reaching for a pitcher of milk to pour into his cookie mug. This was it; the moment of truth. He nearly held his breath; luckily, the cookie remained together, holding the milk. He breathed out, feeling his heart beat again.

“I think the only note would be that you could have toasted the macadamia nuts,” Drew said, with Veronica nodding beside him, “but I think that the blueberries and macadamia nuts was an interesting choice. It works really well,”

Cyrus made a mental note to thank TJ later.

“They loved it!” Buffy exclaimed, walking back into the room, “was pretty much nothing but positivity,” she added, taking another seat on the couch.

“Are you always this high and mighty?” Reed was quick to jump in, raising his brows.

“You’re one to talk,” she snapped, “your cookies were burned,”

As the two of them continued to bicker back and forth, the other kids found themselves chatting amongst themselves. Andi and Natalie were hitting it off, and Gus joined in with them, all of them laughing about the mistakes that they made. Gus was flailing his arms wildly, sending Andi into a fit of giggles.

“How’d you do?” TJ asked Cyrus, leaning back in the couch.

“Alright,” he started, his face lighting up, “oh, thanks for the tip with the blueberries. They really loved it,”

“No worries,” he smiled, “oh, and thanks for the tip on the glaze. It was good, my hands were just shaking, so it didn’t look great,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. And if in that moment Cyrus wondered how soft his hair was, that thought didn’t exist but for a millisecond.

“I always think taste it the most important,” Cyrus mused, “like, sure it may not look great, but if it tastes good? I’m sold,”

“Exactly!” TJ agreed, giving the other boy a high five, “you know, you’re pretty cool,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Mhm, sure. Try telling that to, like, everyone in my grade,”

“I would,” TJ challenged, a coy smile playing on his lips. Maybe this competition wasn’t going to be so stressful after all.

+

TJ was so wrong. As he stood in front of the judges, he’d never felt more stressed in his life. The lights seemed brighter than before, and it felt like when he was at the optometrist, his eyes dilated and the lights blinding. His hands were trembling by his sides, and the cameraman was getting ready to start filming. As they counted down, he felt something nudge his side. Cyrus gave him a smile and a thumbs up, and just like that, all his anxiety disappeared.

“Alright bakers,” Veronica started, “this week, we challenged you to make a dozen cookies, with a random ingredient that we assigned you. Good news first; two of you had outstanding flavors, as well as great presentation. And those bakers are,”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. “Buffy,” she said, “. . .and Cyrus,”

Cyrus’ jaw dropped, quirking up into a smile as he bounced on his toes. “Way to go,” TJ whispered to him, smiling.

“Congrats to you both, you are both safe until the next week,” she continued, “a few other bakers did a pretty good job of balancing flavor and presentation, and are also safe. Those bakers are. . .Andi, TJ, Jonah, and Natalie,”

TJ breathed a sigh of relief, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ under his breath.

“Unfortunately, that leaves Gus and Reed in the bottom two. Please step forward,” Drew said, the two boys nervously taking a few steps up.

“It’s always hard to let someone go this early in the competition,” Veronica sighed, kneading her hands together, “but both of you had complications with your cookie cups, as well as your cookies. Gus, yours were too soft in the middle, and didn’t really hold up. Reed, your cookies were burned, and the cups crumbled as soon as we poured the milk in,”

“It’s unfortunate that we have to let one of you go,” Drew sighed, offering a sympathetic smile, “but the baker that will not be moving on is. . .Reed,”

His heart sunk. He felt like he was going to collapse to the floor; his knees were weak, and his chest was seizing up. The other kids came up around him offering hugs, until one of the directors whisked him away to another room for his exit interview.

“Great job, everyone! You’re all safe for another week! You guys can head back into the main room and relax for a while. We’ll see you tomorrow,”

The kids giddily left the room, a few of them gushing over how relieved they were to have made it past the first week.

“Congrats, seriously,” Jonah clapped Cyrus on the back, “I told you that you were talented,”

Cyrus blushed softly at this, shaking his head. “Lucky win,” he mumbled, “but I’m so beat right now. All I want to do is take a nap,”

“I can’t even imagine what the next challenge is going to be,” TJ mused, rubbing his temples, “my powers tell me. . .something baked,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Wow, a true magician. Who’s winning this competition, oh great and powerful one?”

TJ smirked, shutting his eyes and pretending to concentrate. “The results are murky, check back in a few days,”

Cyrus laughed, dusting some flour off of his shirt. “Do you use your powers in school too?”

TJ chuckled, albeit nervously. “If I did, I wouldn’t be struggling in some classes, would I?”

Cyrus shrugged. “Suppose not,” he added, skipping ahead to catch up with Andi and Gus.

TJ’s gaze lingered a moment longer on the boy. His hair looked kind of nice in the back, and his smile was pretty nice too. He shook his head; this was a competition. He was against all of these people; he was here to win, not to get distracted by boys with nice hair and pretty smiles.

This was going to be a long show.

[novantinuum]

i always think wips are fun and can sometimes be useful, so a step-by-step of that latest art thingy from sketch to finish + some explanation...

sketch- in which i blatantly misused gettyimages stock photos to get these poses right. stock images are you friends, do not fear using them and blatantly tracing over them to get poses if you’re still learning and don’t quite know how to draw them freehand yet. most people still don’t have that skill. i wasn’t even worrying about the details of the background yet here, i just wanted to get the main gestures solidified at this stage.

midway through lines- river’s hair was utter hell to get looking right, i honestly think i spent like twenty minutes fussing on that hair alone. i’m super super happy with how she turned out though, it was really fun trying to translate a live action character into gravity falls style! i’ll definitely have to do the same for all the modern doctors at some point.

flats- always my favorite part of art, filling in those flats. it took a long while to figure out what colors i wanted to use for ford’s uniform. generally, my thought was that he’d stolen a uniform from one of the crew of this ship to masquerade among them and get a lift, and it was on this flight that he happened to meet river, and teamed up with her when some alien incursions occurred.

background line art- i wasn’t entirely sure at first how i wanted this space to look, but eventually i decided upon messy + lots of wires and the rest of it came along easy enough. i’ve been trying to challenge myself to draw more cohesive, complicated backgrounds lately, so tried to push as much small detail as i could.

full flats- finally, everything is colored! well, sort of. my flats are always really hideous at first, to be honest- and i mask the initial “hideous” with shading and light and overlays after! at this stage, all i’m worried about is getting an idea for the different tones in the scene- which bits will be lighter, which are darker. especially when it comes to the wall and floor, texture/shading will provide the rest of the detail and help bring the piece’s colors together more harmoniously.

shading/light- oh, there we go! much better color harmony already. i used the ‘rust’ and smooth india ink brushes to add texture to the wall and floor, along with adding a streak of light grey under the lineart to give a bit more of a metallic sheen. a cool crosshatch brush gave the pattern on the floor. added some glow from river’s sonic screwdriver and from the lights in the panel box, and a bit of shading to river and ford + the background. for shading, i generally use a light blue or purple set on multiply. below this wip is a version with multiply taken off, so you can see what this layer actually looks like: 

there’s also a layer of multiply airbrushed over this one. i like having airbrushed shadows alongside apparent, stark ones. adds a bit more depth and drama for me.

final- the last thing i did was add a color balance layer to fully get the colors harmonious the way i wanted them. i boosted up the blue/cyan and the red/magenta. never underestimate the power some color balance layers can have on a piece, is my new moto. well, not really a moto, but- they’ve helped make my stuff pop, in my experience. can’t hurt to mess with them, and it’s pretty fun to play around with ‘em too! 

anyways, that’s this piece! thank you for reading! my thought on this scenario is that this takes place for ford maybe a few months before he crosses into bill’s nightmare realm and ends up home. he’s already got his prototype weapon all built and along with him for the ride there, as you can see. he’s currently stuck in this one dimension- which so happens to be the doctor’s dimension- long term, and ends up knocking about trying to find a rift to move on to the next. for river, this takes place sometime between ‘the husbands of river song’ and ‘silence in the library/forest of the dead,’ cued in by her sonic screwdriver in her hand, which was gifted to her by the twelfth doctor in the first ep of the two listed. they’re trapped in the engine room of a ship that’s slowly crumbling to pieces at the hands of rogue alien scrappers, and trying to figure out how on earth to get out of this scenario alive AND keep a precious technology being carried on this ship out of those aliens’ hands.

[estyleco-blog1]

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[boyslaughplus]

Devlog #34 - Status Update, Character Design, and UI

Hello! It's time for another update on the development status of Brassica. It’s also our first actual devlog purely about Brassica!

After working on separate projects for a while, we are now in the process of getting back on track working on the same game again. Because of that we're happy to announce that the rest of Brassica's Act 2 will be released in March!

It grew a bit in size from what we originally planned but that just means more game for you~

The exact date will be announced when we can more clearly estimate how long the remaining tasks will take but we're in the process of finishing everything up so it shouldn't be too long.

As for Act 3, our current plan is to release it in April. From now on development should be a lot faster but because we mainly worked on it on the side until now, that is still only a rough estimate. We'll definitely keep you updated on any developments regarding the release dates though!

Well, and that's about it for the status update. Because it's been a while since our devlogs actually described much of our development process (and we haven't shared much about our thought processes behind Brassica), we decided to bring that back with today's devlog.

PECTIN will tell you a bit about Saffron and his design while eZombo describes the development of the UI. So without further ado, here we go:

Art - PECTIN

Saffron is the curious prince the player takes control of in Brassica. Before I began concepting him Felix and I defined his character. At this point we already knew he would be one of the princes Sappho tricks into going on the journey. (And would then fall in love with another prince because YaoiJam'18). We soon agreed on naming him Saffron. So I already associated the colours of the spice "saffron" with him here. We also wanted to make him a protagonist with his own personality. Thinking of the player who role-plays him we thought it would be cool to have his character split into three separate personalities he could have: - the cunning and a bit wild prince     -  the typical goody two-shoes type of hero     - and the soft boi who's overwhelmed by the whole predicament and really needs a hug Another external influence was, my intention  to try and fuse traditional things with modern sportswear. Brassica is a fairytale but it's told in a contemporary voice. That's where the idea came from. ...Okay. So I had his name, colours I could associate with him, the three archetypes and my goal to fuse sportswear with traditional clothing. Having all of these "pointers" I began looking for reference pictures. I browsed through online stores of popular sports brands to find things that would fit the character. Due to Saffron's character ranging from cute to rather untamed (in the sense that he would climb a tree without hesitation) I thought that wearing shorts would be most suitable and comfy. But for the top and the overall outfit I wanted to let myself get inspired by traditional elements. The name "Saffron" reminded me  of the spice and then its use in Indian culture. I never designed a character with Indian influences before and thought researching into that would be interesting. I found a lot of stuff I could translate into the design. Even the leggings Saffron wears were intially inspired by my findings about Indian culture. Here's a visual breakdown of what inspired what (excuse my srawly handwriting >-<):

During the process of drawing out his design, as I always do, I thought about how each component of the outfit would "flow". There're lot's of lines and intersections in his outfit that guide the eyes along the his body:

And here is our boy again as a sprite. Not much different right? Here I put one of his hands in his shorts' pocket, because I think it would suit someone who is either unsure and does that or feels liking hiding something.

That's it about Saffron! I could go on about his colours but I'll save that for when I explain the general artstyle of Brassica! :3

UI - eZombo

Because Brassica was planned as an entry for Yaoi Jam 2018, we thought about ways to keep the scope small. One idea we came up with was to reduce the size of the screen that shows backgrounds and characters so producing the art is a bit faster than filling a full HD 16:9 canvas. One inspiration for that was Sticky Zeitgeist by Porpentine & Rook but something like the Undertale console version where the graphics at the border of the screen change based on the in-game location was also something we considered.

When it came to actually planning the screen, Undertale's influence came through again, because the main area of the screen actually has an aspect ratio of 4:3. This obviously leaves a lot of unused screen space but one thing we knew we could definitely use to fill this was the text box. Having it separate from the main screen also made sure that it didn't overlap with the characters or backgrounds so the space that was reserved for that could be used to its full potential.

With two elements already on the screen, we still had the sides to fill with content. Just using graphics as borders definitely was an option but because Brassica's story plays out a bit like a road movie, we thought having a map of the game world would definitely add to the feeling of that. And to make the UI visually more balanced again, the last bit of free space was then filled with some information on the time of day and how many days were left for the quest of the princes which basically added all the important context for what is going on in the center of the screen.

A first mock-up of the UI featuring a familiar face and St. Bernard...

Around that time, we also developed the idea of presenting the whole game screen like a paper or puppet theater. This seemed like a good way to bring all these different elements together while still supporting the colorful fantasy-ish look of the game art.

I did a quick sketch of how this could look, which turned the mock-up into this:

Aside from adding some more purely graphical elements, I adjusted the text box and the flag that showed the name of the character that is currently speaking. The map was graphical now instead of just a list (which would have given away future locations) and I was overall fairly happy with the direction the UI was going in. A few of the border elements overlapped with the main screen now but I tried to make sure it only happens in areas where we wouldn't put any focus.

After getting some feedback from PECTIN I then went on to work on the final lineart while also trying to simplify all the shapes. By then, the characters were also being concepted so instead of Luke I could put Ode into the mock-up (along with a reference for a possible background style).

As you can see, some unnecessary lines, elements, and text were removed to simplify the look of the UI and make sure that the important elements aren't overshadowed by anything else. Overall I tried to keep the lines clean without making them look overly sterile, so any round shapes are generally drawn freehand instead of using any vector shapes. Except for the compass, moon, and their enclosing arcs. Those just looked sloppy when they weren't exact. Not using fixed line widths was another way to make the lines more organic even when they were perfectly straight. The idea to use different colored flags for each character also came into play now, although Ode's color here is actually used by Hans now…

Colors were next on the agenda. First a basic pass, followed by some adjustments and line colors to make the lines fade more into the background. Having the concepts for the three princes was very helpful for this step because it was important that the UI colors fit into the overall color scheme while keeping the focus on the actual game art. That's why red is only used close to the center and for important UI elements (the current location on the map is also marked in red). The rest of the colors are rather muted and monochrome on purpose with only a little bit of gold to break it up.

Throughout the whole process my main references were old paper theaters but especially during the coloring process I deviated from these references in favor of using colors that would match with most backgrounds.

Once we were happy with the colors, I did a relatively quick shading pass, just adding shadows with a fairly abstract light source to keep most shadows parallel to the lines. I also added some subtle noise to make everything look a bit more organic.

For the most part it still looked too clean though, so PECTIN suggested overlaying the UI with some watercolor textures.

Which lead to this final mock-up and not only solved the problem but also gave the UI a more painterly look that didn't interfere as much with the general artstyle.

Well, but as always, there are still a few things that changed on the way into the engine.

The map was obviously added (which could probably fill a devlog by itself), the text on the side was changed to better reflect the current quest of the princes (although the other sign may or may not return in future acts...), I added a CTC icon and updated the quick menu (although I can't remember why "Load" was removed so maybe that will return again), but most importantly: The text box was reduced from three to two lines of text. This wasn't as much an active decision as it was caused by the fact that small line spacing in Ren'Py cuts of parts of some letters until all lines of text are displayed. There are some games that still do this but personally I don't really like how it looks while the text appears. Increasing the textbox would have caused a lot of work because I would have had to shift around more elements of the UI to keep a balanced layout so it was simply easier to remove a line of text and increase the line spacing.

This had a pretty strong effect on the writing because sentences have to be fairly short now or if that doesn't work, broken up into multiple lines. Even if it wasn't exactly planned, it still influenced the writing style of Brassica and further distinguished it from our other games (although there's more to say on that one) and in hindsight, only two lines of text also look a lot cleaner in this layout.

I could go on about the actual implementation of the UI but this has already been a pretty lengthy post so maybe I'll save it for another devlog.

But that's it for now! We'll be back in two weeks with some more development insights and our current status. We also plan to start posting these devlogs regularly again, so stay tuned for that! As always, thank you so much for reading and we hope you could find a few things of interest in this devlog.

[shaevira]

Pool!AU where Weiss is a champion diver and Yang is the captain of the water polo team. Weiss originally goes to Yang to yell at her (and her team) to keep it quieter while she is practicing. Surprise surprise they fall in love :P

Freezerburn! ( are u guys tired of me yet)

WC: 2.1k

She breathed in and closed her eyes. She was 10m above ground, getting ready to end her practice with one final move. Weiss was a champion diver, nationally. Soon enough, she’d be a name known worldwide with her diving skills.

Beacon Academy was the perfect place to hone her already perfect skills and it could help if she went beyond perfect. Beacon Academy offered everything a top tier athlete could want, including a very large pool.

Now, the only problem with said pool was that it was public. Granted, there were schedules and sign-ups for times and practices that could be made but frankly, Weiss had considered herself unlucky with who she had shared the pool with during her scheduled times. There was no peace, no quiet - at times it was hard to concentrate with so much noise surrounding the pool.

Today, out of all days was probably the worst day.

The girls water polo team of the school was making such a ruckus. Weiss opened her eyes, she wasn’t going to be able to perform in these conditions, no. She eyed the water polo team who were being loud and obnoxious.  

She watched from her makeshift perch as they loudly dunked each other underneath the water, trying to get a ball and throwing it at a goal. Or at least that’s what it looked like.

What brutes! Weiss sneered from her perch. Who could like such a barbaric sport? She hadn’t actually watched it being played before, and to her surprise she didn’t realize how violent the sport could be. Or how loud.

Every time in the past she had narrowly missed just having the same time slot as the water polo team. Yet here she was, after months of being at the school she finally had the run in with them.

She sighed and shook her head, retreating from her perch and climbing down the ladder. She had had enough of this. If they weren’t going to be quiet for her last routine set, she would make them quiet.

The pitter patter of her feet could be heard on the wet cement as she had hurriedly made her way over there. She had made it over there, only for the ball to fly towards her as she narrowly dodged it.

She huffed.

“Oh, sorry! But could you pass us the ball pretty please?” One very tall and lengthy looking girl asked, her bright green eyes shone as she smiled in a very polite manner. Her tone was sickeningly sweet.

Weiss grabbed the ball and held onto it. “Not until you tell me who is the…” she paused trying to find the word her eyes flashed as she remembered “team captain is.” Usually, sports the used teams weren’t her thing. She had trouble relying on anyone other than herself.

A girl in the back raised her hand and swam towards the edge of the pool where Weiss was. A gorgeous set of lavender eyes stared up at Weiss with a curious looking smirk. Weiss glared at her, who was this girl and where did she get off on being so pretty? “That would be me.” The girl said, now lifting herself up and out of the pool.

Weiss backed up, noticing just how tall and ripped this girl was. “Yang Xiao Long. Team Captain for Beacon Academies water polo team.” she introduced herself sticking out her hand. Weiss looked down at it. Everything about this girl was overwhelming. Weiss held the ball underneath her arm, and stuck out her hand to politely shake the girls hand. At least she didn’t behave barbarically outside of the pool.

Weiss cleared her throat, “Weiss Schnee. Champion Diver.” she puffed herself up, trying her hardest to look like the best. It was something she had to do on a constant, especially with so many eyes on her.

Yang cocked an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. Almost as if she knew something Weiss didn’t. “Alright then, Ms. Schnee. Is there something you needed.” Yang’s tone became somewhat...mischievous.

“You all need to settle down. I cannot concentrate on performing my last and final set with you all yelling and screaming!” she quickly demanded. A few scoffs and chuckles could be heard from the water.

Yang held a smug look about her “Weren’t you working just fine this whole time? Why the sudden change?” she crossed her arms looking down at Weiss.

Weiss huffed, “I knew you wouldn’t understand.” she tossed Yang the ball, looking a little disappointed.

Yang caught it with ease. “Whoa, whoa. I didn’t say we wouldn’t stop princess. In fact, we’ll give you the audience you deserve.” she turned her head towards the girls in the pool, “Isn’t that right ladies?” The team cheered as Yang looked back at Weiss who seemed to be sporting a blush.

Yang smirked. “Go ahead.” she gestured back towards the diving board.

Weiss quickly turned heel, and fast walked towards the diving board. She felt a burning sensation in her cheeks. What was it about the girl that had suddenly gotten her so worked up? Was it her eyes? Her voice? Her muscles? Weiss couldn’t put a finger on it, even if she did want to lay several on her.

The pool area was now quiet as Weiss had readied herself atop the diving board. She took a deep breath and readied herself.

She jumped then tucking, flipping, and twisting and quick and smooth combination that only few could achieve. It was almost has Weiss had simultaneously danced and flew through the air only to dive into the water in perfect form.

Weiss came up from underneath only to hear loud cheering coming from the opposite sides of the pool. She hid her smile underneath the water as only half her face could be seen. She stared directly at Yang who’s eyes never left hers.

The team, along with Weiss exited the pool. Both of their times being up.

While the rest of the team headed back into the locker rooms, Yang had waited behind for Weiss. “Sooo, that was pretty cool.” Yang commented as her and Weiss had begun to walk in sync back to the locker rooms. “Like, I know I’ve seen you do that stuff from time to time it’s just that I never really got to pay that much attention.” Yang admitted.

Weiss looked up at her as they walked. “You’ve seen me before?” Weiss asked, her heart nearly jumping for an odd reason.

“Ahh…” Yang rubbed the nape of her neck. “Kind of. During practice right now I watched a little. But I’ve only really seen you perform from afar.” Once more Yang admitted to watching Weiss. However, Weiss never found it to be odd. Of course all eyes were on Weiss, she was a rising star. She could only imagine that Yang was trying to be her friend to be associated with fame. “It was pretty impressive how you did all those...things.”

Weiss chuckled, “Those things are what got me this far. I appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Xiao Long and thank you.” an odd warm sensation ran through Weiss as she spoke to Yang.

“Please, call me Yang.” she grinned widely as they had entered the locker rooms, to which Weiss hadn’t even noticed they had made it to Yang’s locker. “Well, this is my stop. Thanks for escorting me, Weiss.” she winked.

Weiss momentarily sputtered, she felt a little embarrassed following Yang to her locker out of all things. Weiss also hadn’t noticed how she had let her guard down so easily already. She was lucky that every other girl had either left, was in a conversation, or had gone to shower and weren’t paying attention to them at all. “Not a problem. Just don’t expect anything like that from me again.” she tried her best to put her front back up.

She quickly left to her own locker.

//

Weiss had managed to find a private shower, get dressed, and then leave the facilities.

She stepped outside, meeting the cold air. She would’ve instantly shivered had it not been for her rather warm attire. She stepped through the snow that was covering the ground as she made her way to the parking lot.

But she stopped in her tracks to notice a very familiar looking face sitting on the bench with very wet hair.

The girl had noticed her too and tilted her head curiously, her eyes then instantly lit up as the girl seemed to recognize her. “Weiss!!” she waved at her.

Weiss had already made her way to her when she was called. “Are you insane?” Weiss chided at her, looking at her hair. “This is freezing cold weather and your outside with your wet hair? Why aren’t you going to your car?” Weiss didn’t know why she cared so much. But here she was, scolding a girl she hardly knew for the sake of the girls own safety.

Yang weakly chuckled and sat back on the bench, “I was waiting for someone to come give me a ride. I can’t really ride my motorcycle in this kind of weather.”

Weiss scoffed, taking off her white beanie and handing it to Yang. “Put this on, you dumb brute.” she rolled her eyes.

Yang hesitantly grabbed it and put it on, adjusting it. “You know you didn’t ha-” Yang was tugged up from the bench, as Weiss had grabbed her hand and dragged her to the parking lot. “Where are you taking me?!”

“Back to your home?!” Weiss huffed, “I’m not going to let you sit here in the cold and I’m definitely not going to let you say no!” With her freehand Weiss unlocked a car that was a few feet ahead of them. She pushed Yang to the other side and opened the door for her.

“Such a gentleman.” Yang teased, settling herself on the passenger side.

Weiss glared and closed the door in surprisingly calm manner. Weiss went to the driver's seat, and started the ignition.

“You know you didn’t have to do this for me.” Yang commented. “I’ve done this like plenty of times. I’m capable of taking care of myself.” Yang’s voice held more mischievousness towards it.

Weiss sat with her hands on the steering wheel. “You could just say thank you, you know.” Weiss groaned, the sensation in her heart was growing. Overwhelming her, and she couldn’t tell what it was. Ever since she had laid eyes on the lavender eyed girl, the girl that she now knew was blonde, the girl that she had dragged to her car in some sort of out-of-body experience moment was someone she could not stop having strange feelings for.

“Alright, well then how about I take you on a date? Are you free tonight?” Yang looked at her and grinned.

Weiss immediately turned her heads towards Yang, eyes widened. “W-what? Are you trying to set me up or something?”

Yang laughed “The only thing I’m trying to set up is you with me. You said you wanted to be thanked, so that’s the best way to thank someone isn’t it?” Yang adjusted her hat, shook her head, and slightly shivered.

Weiss backed up the car, without another word and drove out of the parking lot.

“If I can’t say no, then why can’t you say no either?” Yang now asked, and pointed in the direction they should turn. “That’s not fair. What if you’re kidnapping me?” Yang teased once more. “I can see the headlines now…” she stuck her hands up and pretended there was big billboard in front of her - “Famous Diver Weiss Schnee kidnaps young innocent water polo captain Yang Xiao Long!”

Weiss loudly groaned, “Fine! Fine. You win. Just enough with your...shenanigans.” she scoffed with a blush, “You’re giving me heart palpitations.” Weiss muttered.

“Up here, then a left and a right on the second street.” Yang commented before smirking. “Heart palpitations? You mean a warm sensation in your gut? Your heart racing way too fast? A jittery feeling in your whole body?”

Weiss kept her eyes on the road, but Yang read every inch of Weiss and the face she was making. “How did you…?”

Yang chuckled, “I feel the same way. That’s not heart palpitations you know, I’m pretty sure that’s…oh look, we’re here. Pull up here.”

Weiss stopped the car and pulled up in front of a nice little house that Yang must’ve owned as it was off-campus. “Thanks for the ride princess. I’ll return the hat tonight. Just pick me up at 7, and I’ll handle everything else.” Yang exited the vehicle and winked. “It’ll all go...swimmingly.” Yang joked.

“Wait!” Weiss called out to her before Yang could shut the door. “If it’s not heart palpitations, then what is it?”

Yang widely grinned, and let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s love.”

[designingcourseslucknow]

HOW TO GET INTO FASHION INDUSTRY

The fashion industry – Can you say which industries are unstoppable even during Pandemic? Except for food or grocery, healthcare, and some essential manufacturing sectors, the Fashion world is one of the trending fields now and then. Before entering into this, we should be aware of how to get into the fashion industry.

INTRODUCTION:-

How to get into a Fashion Industry – The term itself is a trend in the present world. It is a kind of platform that changes now and then, as per the demand of the population. It is one of the most crowded sectors among all. You can say, like a few other fields, this field has its own charm that also boosts the value or demand of its provider or related professionals. If you are reading this, you might be looking for a solution – How to get into the fashion industry.

Before entering the industry, ask yourself have you ever been interested in what you have worn, that design clothes, shoes, and accessories? Are you a person who helps others to pick their outfits with matching accessories to grab a perfect combination? Do you think your creative thoughts, strong communication, or skill can help you to get success? If yes, then it sounds pretty cool because creativity and unique strategies are the most vital things in these rapidly changing trends. The only thing you need is to sharpen it with the guidance of an expert.

HOW TO BECOME A FASHION DESIGNER?

As a top fashion designing institute in India, we do surveys and measure the scope or opportunities for you. It is not only the creative mind or the ideas that help you to get into the fashion industry. There are many things that a piece of practical knowledge can only provide you. To get the practical experience, joining over a course in fashion designing is the best way. Let’s have a look at the basic necessity to become a fashion designer.

Be a Certified Person – To get your foot into this competitive market, you may require a certification of your skill. During this, you will not only get a certificate but also get a chance to know the history of fashion, material, figure drawing, pattern making, advanced technology using by the industry, and many more, which we will cover further.

Choose your Type of Fashion – Our expert will explain to you what fashion exactly are? It is not only about clothes, from bottom to upper, clothes to accessories all come under fashion. So you should identify your specialty in a particular topic or fashion. Then it’s time to decide which designing field is your principal interest.

Hands-on Experience – You must have heard that practice makes a man perfect. Without any practical knowledge, no one can prove their skill only with theory. We understand the value of freehand on a particular course, so provides the best practical training to students who are pursuing a fashion designing course under our fashion designing training institute. From quality, communication skills, handle a business to design outfit, you will get real experience upon all.

Learn the fashion Business – Become a fashion designer doesn’t mean that you will be an employee under a fashion company. You might be a business owner, and to be a skilled owner of your fashion business, you must have the knowledge to set up it and the procedures it includes. From the beginning of your future, we will give you a short overview of it and how to make it successful and this is how to get into fashion industry.

Create Your Portfolio – Experience or past work is the key to your next click. So always keep your portfolio or experience with yourself. It can not only impress the viewer but also give you a further chance to get big deals.

Up-to-date with the Trends – Fashion is a kind of industry that depends on the demand of the market or users. Our faculties will guide you on how to stay upgrade with the fashion market and serve the best that tastes good to the users. It will not only make you or your brand famous but also help to grab a handsome amount.

 THE MARKET OF THE FASHION INDUSTRY:

It is true that as compared to last year, the growth rate of the fashion industry has slightly down due to COVID19. But, it is also assuming that it will increase in the near future with a good digit, said by surveyors. This survey will not only give a guide to the fashion market but also helps to shape and change the economy. Still, if you will have a look at the report, the fashion segment is projected to reach US$664,474m in 2020 and many more to count in the coming years, this is how to get into the fashion industry.

REASONS TO CHOOSE A CAREER IN THE FASHION INDUSTRY:

If you are a non-technical person in this technological world, it’s fine. Many creative industries are waiting for you, and the fashion industry is one of the best platforms among all. It is also a perfect gateway to have a professional life. It is the best field to reduce your thrust of creativity. In this field, you will get the opportunities to have a strong network and meet experts in your platform. You can live a life of your own comfort.

The last but the best reason to choose a career in fashion designing is you will get diverse profiles and positions for varied skill set and this how to get into fashion industry , we mentioned below-

 SCOPE FOR A FASHION DESIGNER:

•          Fashion Designer

•          Fashion Marketer

•          Quality Controller

•          Personal Designer/Fashion Consultant:

•          Technical Designer

•          Fashion Coordinator

•          Fashion Show Organizer

•          Boutique/Store Owner

 WHY JOIN INSTITUTE FOR FASHION DESIGNING?

Many think that they are aware of the outfit or garment market but are they? Is it limited to outfits only? As a professional designer, you should be aware of all the nitty-gritty of the fashion industry. Few things you will only get to know by joining a fashion designing training institute are-

•          By joining our institute, you will be a certified fashion designer.

•          You will get to know the history, value in the present, and future of the Fashion industry with trending demands.

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[redrobinfection]

Coffee, Coffee Everywhere, Pt 9

<< Part 8

Steph plucked at the strapless bra that was starting to dig into her ribs and sighed gratefully as the cool air of the ice cream shop they’d just entered washed over her flushed face. The other ‘batkids’ filed in behind her, dressed to the nines and newly escaped from one of the many infamous galas Bruce demanded they attend to keep up outward appearances.

Dick, Tim, Damian and Cass were all required to attend, of course, as official members of the Wayne family, but they’d found sufficient excuses to drag her and Jason in as “plus-ones” for Cass and Tim respectively, and Babs had already been in attendance - it was a charity gala benefiting the GCPD, as it happened - so they’d had the whole gang in one place for once.

That fact hadn’t sat too well with Oracle - who had called in the Birds of Prey to cover the city while the Batfam schmoozed - or with Batman, for that matter, so after the Gala, the two of them had headed straight back to watching over the streets of Gotham. The kids, on the other hand, had made a beeline for the their favorite late-night ice cream parlor, fancy dresses, tuxes, and all.

Steph’s beautiful one-shoulder, deep eggplant dress looked kickass [1] - Cass and Tim had helped her pick it out the week before - but she was so done with the clingy folds of silk and the tight bodice.

“Welcome to Gotham City Scoops,” the freckly guy behind the counter welcomed them. “What can I get for you guys tonight?”

“Ahhh,” Dick looked around at each of them expectantly, then stepped forward to act as the de facto spokesperson of their group. “I have a pretty good idea of what I want, so I’ll order first to give you guys a minute, yeah?”

Damian and Cass nodded. Jason attacked the bow tie at his throat with a vengeance while Tim squinted up at the menu board. Steph turned her attention to the menu, keeping half an ear tuned-in to hear the others’ orders so as to maybe steal an idea for her own.

Dick ordered his customary double scoop of rocky road, then turned to the rest of the group expectantly. Nobody stepped up. Steph kept her eyes firmly fixed on the forty-two flavors above their heads.

“Come on, guys. I’ll pay - my treat - but anyone who doesn’t get their order in before I finish my cone is on their own,” Dick warned them, licking a wide stripe up the side of his ice cream with an over-the-top stink-eye. Jason snorted at the goofy expression and Cass favored them with a small smile. She stepped up next, pointing soundlessly to the grass-green matcha ice cream and holding up two fingers for two scoops.

Rocky road? Matcha? No, Steph wasn’t feeling either of those. She glanced over at Jason, who ran both hands through his slicked back hair, subconsciously mussing it back to normal again as he considered his choices.

Steph turned her head at the sound of Damian’s voice. The kid had stepped forward, but he quickly retreated and tapped a finger against his mouth.

“I think.…maybe that…hmm, no, perhaps not,” Damian equivocated. Steph giggled.

“Havin’ trouble deciding, kiddo? Which ones are you split over?”

Damian whirled to glare at her then turned back with a huff. “Of course not, Brown. I’m not a child. I was simply weighing the merits of consuming chocolate at this hour versus not.”

The clerk raised an eyebrow at Damian’s verbiage but looked relieved when the kid finally stepped up to the counter.

“I’ll have a double scoop of french vanilla, please.”

Steph laughed. “All that for plain vanilla, Dami?”

Damian thanked the clerk for the cone then turned to glare at her. “Vanilla is not a plain flavor, Stephanie Brown. There are subtleties to the flavor that take a discerning palate and much patience to appreciate.”

“Nah. If I ever had to eat vanilla ice cream as a kid, I always drowned it in chocolate sauce and sprinkles,” Steph replied, grinning when it got the expected rise out of Damian.

“Sacrilege!”

“Tasty,” Dick chimed in around a mouthful of Rocky Road. Cass stepped up to Damian and laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. Damian murmured his mutual appreciation for Cass’ “refined palate” and flavor choice and then turned away from the rest of them.

That left only Jason, Tim, and herself to pick. Steph studied the board again for a moment then found her eyes drifting to Tim. A sudden thought had her smirking smugly.

“Well… at least we all know what Tim’s going to get, even if he’ll play coy and wait until after everyone’s ordered to make it seem like he didn’t have his eye on the prize the entire time.”

Tim turned to her with eyebrows raised and Jason laughed.

Coffee ice cream. It was a classic flavor, and Steph knew it was Tim’s favorite. Heck, even she liked a good mocha chip every now and then. Tim stepped up to the counter. Dick nodded knowingly and Damian shook his head silently. Steph grinned. Everyone knew what was coming…

“I’ll have a double scoop of the salted caramel and vanilla, please,” Tim requested with a polite smile.

The family froze at the unexpected plot twist. They stared, lost for words as the server tacitly retrieved a clean scoop and a fresh cone. Jason finally broke the thick silence with a chuckle as he stepped up beside Tim.

“And I’ll have a double scoop of strawberry, please,” Jason added. He turned to Tim. “Wow, Timbo, color me impressed - you actually skipped the coffee for once!”

Tim grimaced. “I don’t eat ‘coffee everything, all the time, always’ - give me a break!”

Steph blinked. Dick scratched the back of his head. Cass shrugged and turned her attention back to her ice cream.

“Well, forgive us if all of your wild ideas over the past few weeks have set a certain precedent,” Damian remarked drily.

“Yeah, really!” Jason agreed. “All other coffee experiments aside, I thought coffee ice cream was you favorite? Why the switch up?”

“Coffee is my favorite flavor, yes, and it always will be, but it’s late, I’m tired, I’m actually sleepy for once, I don’t feel like giving myself a caffeine buzz - however minute that would be from flavored ice-cream - and” - he paused momentarily to thank the clerk as he handed Tim his cone - “I actually really like the salted caramel here,” Tim explained coolly. He took large lick of the ice cream with a grateful hum. "Thanks for buying, Dick.”

A chorus of ‘thank you’s followed Tim’s. Dick chuckled and waved them off as he bit into the top of his cone. “Y’re w'lcome,” Dick slurred as around the bite. He swallowed and winked over at Tim. “It’s good to see you enjoying some variety, Timmy. Maybe I’ll try the salted caramel next time since you like it enough to pick it over coffee of all things.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I didn’t pick it over coffee; I’m just not feeling-”

Dick waved his freehand as if to swat away the words. “No, no, no, let us have this moment. Please.”

Tim laughed, shrugged, and turned back to his cone. Meanwhile, Steph felt as stunned as she would if someone had thrown a brick at her face and then run off without a word. Of all the times for Tim to break with form and be spontaneous…

“Steph?”

Steph jerked slightly, turning toward the sound. “Are you going to get anything?” Tim asked her. Steph glanced around - everyone was staring expectantly - then looked back to Tim, who was studying her with a little concern.

“Yeah, Steph. This ice cream is almost devoured; if you’re gonna get anything, now’s the time to do it,” Dick reminded her with a grin, taking another large bite out of the rapidly disappearing cone.

Steph floundered. What did she want? What was she in the mood for? She scanned the board, but nothing popped out at her. Rocky Road? No. Vanilla? Ha ha, no. Strawberry? No. Peanut Butter Fudge? No, not tonight. Chocolate? Not quite…

Steph stepped up to the counter slowly, shaking her head and feeling renewed heat suffuse her slowly cooling cheeks as she finally came to a decision. Dick popped the tip of the cone into his mouth and stepped up to the register.

“Last chance, Steph. What’s is gonna be?”

“I-I’ll have, uhhh…” - she grimaced, then forced herself finish - “a single scoop of mocha chip, please.”

There was a beat of silence, then Tim laughed out loud and Jason snorted shortly after him. Dick shook his head as he pulled out his credit card. Damn. They’re not gonna give me any peace for the rest of the night, are they?

Nope. Of course not. “Welcome to the Dark Side, St-” Tim began, a shit-eating grin on his smug little face.

“Shut up,” Steph barked at him, waving her newly acquired cone in his face like a weapon. Tim chuckled, but backed off.

She licked at her cone sullenly during the silence descended over the group as they all focused on enjoying their frozen treats - all except for Dick, who flitted off to the bathroom to wash his hands. After a few licks of delicious coffee and chocolate chips blended with cool, sweet cream, Steph dared to argue back, “Well, hey, at least I only got a single scoop while the rest of you got two; that has to count for someth-”

“No.” Tim shook his head at her with mock seriousness and an amused twinkle to his eyes. A chorus of other ‘no’s and a tsk from Damian followed.

“But-”

Tim laughed and shook a finger at her with a grin. “Nope!”

AN: I have no idea if these guys have any canon favorite ice cream flavors - I was just making these up as I went. If you know of any canon favorite flavors, or you have some headcanons, send me an ask - I’m curious!

I originally planned this drabble to be the conclusion to the Coffee, Coffee Everywhere series, but I keep coming up with new ideas in spite of myself so… once I catch up on all the writing, this series will return ;)

This is the dress I imagined Steph would wear to the gala, in case you missed the link in the text: https://www.jjshouse.com/Sheath-Column-One-Shoulder-Floor-Length-Charmeuse-Bridesmaid-Dress-With-Beading-Cascading-Ruffles-007051842-g51842?filterColor=grape

Part 10 >>