#i wish i could ramble about every single artwork but they are like more than 30 TaT

[lavleyart]

oh my GOD I love you all so damn much you have no ideaaaaaaa TaT all these drawings warmed my heart so much and they were so manyyyy aaaaa >///////< I feel so blesseedddddd!!! I can’t even really put it into words how blessed I feel! TaT

Thank you thank you thank you!!!! You all seriously made my day leagues better than it already was I feel highhhhhhhh :D XD 

And also gotta point out the cute doodle my gf made of herself. Shes my VIP so she comes first heheheheh. Hi back uwu <3

[merakiui]

Apricity

yandere!albedo x (gender neutral) reader art credit - miHoYo cw: nsfw elements, yandere, captivity/restraints, unhealthy behaviors note - please come home to me and take care on the journey, albedo! :D also kindly heed the warnings. thank you!

His eyes are unnaturally pretty. Like twin crystals glittering in an expansive, dismal cave, searching for secrets unheard of within Mondstadt. Somehow you’re always in his peripheral, not too close and yet impossibly far at the same time. The distance is harrowing, terribly so, and Albedo knows it should be nothing short of a coincidence. When he shows up at your quaint stall with Sucrose, claiming to be in need of the exact wares you happen to sell, you pay it no mind. After all, you’ve met your fair share of regulars, and their support is what keeps you afloat. 

But there is more to those beautiful irises than he lets on. Whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t exactly say. You suppose you would rather run into someone as well-respected as Albedo as opposed to an unlikable stranger with ill intent. And it’s always great to see a familiar face, especially when he chooses to peruse your stall rather the others around you. It isn’t all that strange; you’ve even become friends with Sucrose during your short interactions. Albedo has indulged in stiff conversations with you before, but most of them were meaningless. Simple throwaway chatter between two acquaintances. 

Oddly enough, Albedo finds himself wanting more. He doesn’t want to talk about the weather or the transitioning seasons; he wants to listen to you explain how your day was and if you made more profit than the day before that. He wants to stand there and immerse himself in your pleasant voice, ignorant to the hustle and bustle of the people around him. And yet he just can’t. For a variety of reasons that pull him out of the haze of intrigue, you’ll always remain in the background. And he simply can’t bear the thought of that.

It’s rude to deteriorate a relationship that’s only just begun to blossom. If your meager acquaintanceship with him were to wither away into dust, he would feel obligated to keep it going—as if he were simply beating a dead cow with a stick. Although your hobbies differ from his, it’s nothing he can’t handle. A genius must familiarize himself with other areas of study if he intends to craft solutions that are outside of the box.

“Albedo?” 

Your tone is meek and small, tinged with the slightest shiver. Part of him feels bad for lying to you, but you were just so trusting. It’s almost comical how easily you fell into his trap. If he gets to see you in such a delicious way all the time, he’s more than willing to forsake the truth to meet his own desires. A selfish wish, yes, but it’s absolutely wonderful.

“What is it?” 

He eyes you from his spot behind the easel, and even though you can’t see him you can feel his piercing gaze. Like the sun shining brightly in a wintry afternoon, his eyes smolder with unbearable heat and yet his expression is cold with brilliant focus. 

“A-Are you almost done? It’s really cold.” Your bare back touches the wall and you flinch, an instinctual response that makes Albedo’s brow quirk. “And this is sort of...weird.”

“How so?” 

He says that in such a dismissive manner, acting as if your current position isn’t compromising. As if this was a normal exchange between friendly strangers. You have trouble finding your voice in this situation, especially since talking seems like such a chore. You’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing and then it’ll leave a false imprint of who you are on Albedo. But you’ve always been nice, unable to refuse those who are kind in return, and so you’re forced to endure the discomfort that comes with modeling nude for this peculiar alchemist. 

“Think about it.” You distract yourself with a ramble of an explanation—certainly more than what’s necessary, but Albedo doesn’t mind. He finds solace in your voice. “You’re looking at me and I’m...n-naked. And we don’t really know each other. I’m not trying to vilify you when I say this, but I don’t want you to do anything bad to me. N-Not that you would! It’s just—this is really weird. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Hm.”

“And do I have to be tied up like this?” You shuffle in your bindings, fingers scrabbling over the cuffs and chains that jingle like horrible sleigh bells. 

“You were moving too much earlier. I won’t be able to get your anatomy right if you’re constantly fidgeting.”

But it’s uncomfortable, you think, chewing on your lip out of habit.

“I guess I understand. It must be an artist thing, right?”

“You could say that.”

His work on the canvas offers a display that’s just as lewd as the real model, down to the way your nipples perk and harden in the cold. He’s not even close to finishing and that’s a blessing in itself. He could stare at your figure for hours on end, committing every inch of your flesh to memory, and he wouldn’t grow weary. 

“Do artists normally blindfold their models? I don’t really know anything about this stuff, but it’s okay if it helps with the process.”

“I find it to be interesting,” he answers, simple and vague as ever. “It adds a mysterious touch to the finished piece.”

“So you draw the model with the blindfold?” You’re used to gazing upon paintings of flowers and portraits of influential historical figures rather than blatant nudity. “Artists are definitely unique.”

Albedo hums in response, secretly reveling in your naïveté. At the end of the day, you’re just a normal citizen of Mondstadt, who stands behind a wooden stall every single day and happily chats with potential customers. You excel in business, but when it comes to the inner workings of art you’re at a loss. And that makes it all the more easier for Albedo to spin all sorts of wild tales. He fears that gullible nature will harm you in the future, yet there isn’t a threat in sight. Not when you’re here in front of him, no longer confined to his peripheral. And you’ll stay there for however long it takes him to finish this painting. 

It’s a twisted infatuation. Albedo knows he shouldn’t take too much of your time or else he’ll become addicted and it will be impossible to focus on his studies. But he can’t stop himself or his wandering gaze, which trails up your midriff. Higher and higher until he’s staring at your face, eyes obscured behind the soft fabric of a blindfold. Your body is a temple he wishes to worship, and perhaps that’s a sacrilegious thought that ought to have him consider the weight of his emotions. 

And yet you’re far too irresistible. His thoughts are dangerously potent, swirling within his brain like a maddening hurricane. Surely your missing presence in the market won’t be questioned if he were to keep you just a little longer. Longer than the boundaries of sanity will allow, that is. There are other vendors who sell the same things you boast; the economy won’t shatter if you’re not there to provide.

The paintbrush moves along the canvas in even strokes and suddenly Albedo’s mind is wandering between subjects. From art to alchemy, love to lust, and the wondrous crevices in your anatomy that call out to him. The brush stills in his hand. If he’s not mistaken, Sucrose will be stopping by to assist him and the last thing he needs is staining his appearance in a suspicious color. 

“Albedo?” His name rolls off of your tongue in such a delectable way; it’s almost sinful how his thoughts race and race in an endless track. “Are you almost done? My back is sore and the floor’s really uncomfortable.”

“Sorry. This will take longer than I thought.” He sets his brush and palette down, and you listen to his footsteps as they draw near. “Something has come up, but I promise I won’t be long.” 

“Wait. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I need to get back to the marketplace!”

Before you know what’s happening, the blindfold is coming off and you’re locking eyes with Albedo, who peers at you with intense scrutiny. Certainly the look of a genius studying a textbook. You grow flustered all at once, just now coming to terms with the fact that he looked at your body for longer than you’d like to admit. Shyly, you shut your legs to obscure your private parts, but it’s not like that will help the embarrassment that claws its way onto your expression like a persistent beast. 

“You’re better off waiting here.” He shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders as if that’ll keep the dreadful chill away. “As much as I would like to finish this now, I have other work that must be taken care of.”

“I get that, but you can’t just leave me here! That’s practically kidnapping!” you protest, hoping he’ll heed the desperation in your trembling vocals. “At least, that’s what this feels like.”

“I wouldn’t kidnap you,” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re too funny.”

Yet he isn’t laughing and neither are you as you helplessly watch him depart. The floor is too cold for your liking and the idea of entrapment settles under your skin like a million maggots feasting on a decaying, chilled copse. Devoid of warmth and carrying an air of measured grace, Albedo doesn’t spare you another glance.

He doesn’t need to. He’ll have all the time in the world to study your body like it’s the finest artwork, and you’ll be powerless to object.

[luvidzy]

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: hwang yeji x reader

☆ summary: it’s the day of your first art exhibition and yeji isn’t there to hold your hand

☆ word count: 1.8k

Your fork clattered onto your plate, your hand trembling as you took in the news that your girlfriend, Yeji, wouldn’t be able to make it to your art exhibition tomorrow. You had been so excited and proud to share your artwork with her, having spent a long time on the specific piece being displayed. The display that she would never see.

She stared at you with eyes full of sadness, moving to take your hand in hers. You were still frozen, your lips shaking as you tried to stop the oncoming tears that were making their way to the corners of your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I really did everything I could, but we are just so close to our comeback that I can’t miss anything.” Yeji’s voice was soft, almost as if she was afraid you might break if she raised her tone. You squeezed your eyes shut, begging yourself to get a grip on your emotions. You needed to calm down, afterall this really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“No…. No, it’s fine. I promise. Sorry, I guess it’s just been a weird day.” That was a lie. Your day had actually been really good (up until now), but Yeji didn’t need to know that. If lying was what it took for her to feel a little less guilty about the situation, then you would lie until the sun began to rise in the morning.

“Will you take pictures? I still want to see everything, and I want to hear about everything. I promise, the minute I come home, I’m all yours,” Yeji said, giving you the smile that always managed to warm your heart and bring you a little bit of solace. 

“Won’t you be tired from practice?”

“Too tired for my beautifully talented partner? Never.” You giggled weakly at that comment, feeling a small smile make its way onto your face. You were still upset, still cursing the fact that you couldn’t have Yeji there for something so important, but you knew that she meant every word she said about staying up to listen to you recall your experience.

“Okay. I love you.” Yeji lifted your hand and pressed the smallest kiss onto the back of it. You felt your face heat up as she smiled at you, continuing to hold your hand while grabbing her silverware with the other one, determined to give you comfort in her touch, even if it was only the smallest sliver of happiness.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast with Yeji, she headed off to do some outfit fittings while you headed out to do last minute checks on your art before it was taken to the small gallery the event was taking place at. Your teacher was already waiting in the classroom, your canvas sitting on an easel.

You took one last look at the piece in front of you, of the watercolors that splashed together on the canvas to create the perfect image, before you let the black cloth drop over it. Your teacher gave you a smile as she patted you on the back.

“It’s going to look great at the exhibit tonight, Y/N. Just you wait,” she reassured. You gave her a soft smile, though you couldn’t get rid of the pit that sat in your stomach. After all, the one person who you wanted to see the piece most wouldn’t be able to make it.

You knew that it wasn’t Yeji’s fault; that it was the price that you paid for dating an idol. You would simply have to get used to the fact that she wouldn’t be available all the time, and that you would simply have to do certain things alone, even if you wanted nothing more than to hold her hand while doing them.

Upon leaving your classroom, you headed straight to your apartment. As much as you would have loved to sit and mope around til the time came for the exhibit, you knew that getting ready would take much longer than you wanted. Afterall, this wasn’t a simple class gathering, this was a public art exhibition, and you wanted to look your best for the masses.

After showering and spending about half an hour wrapped in a towel looking at your phone, you finally decided to get ready. You sent a quick text to Yeji, wishing her luck on their practice tonight, before throwing your phone gently onto your bed and focusing on getting yourself presentable.

It wasn’t until you were on the way to the exhibit that the nerves began to set in. This was your first time showing art to such a big group of people, and you hoped that they would find it as beautiful as you did. Despite the reassurance from Yeji and your teacher prior to this moment, you still found your finger nervously tapping the steering wheel as you tried to get your heart to stop pounding.

This was right about the time that you would have loved to have Yeji’s hand to hold, to squeeze, to ground you and let you know that everything was okay. But unfortunately, it was just you.

Your anxiety only worsened as you walked into the gallery. It wasn’t your first time here, and you usually loved visiting, but for some reason you couldn’t find it in you to step into the gallery knowing that your art was on the wall, waiting to be seen and critiqued.

You squeezed your eyes and pretended that Yeji was beside you, calming you down. You imagined her hand gently rubbing circles on your back, and it felt so real that you almost got chills as her hands moved from your back down to your hands. You could practically feel the weight of her palm in yours, and you squeezed lightly. You felt your eyes shoot open in surprise as her hand squeezed back, except it was too real to be just in your head.

You turned your head quickly, your breath catching as Yeji smiled from beside you. She looked gorgeous, in a simple skirt and a nice blouse, but she looked so much more magical to you. Your mouth opened in surprise as she smiled giddily at you, pulling you into her embrace. In no time, your hands were wrapped around her petite waist, holding her close as you felt the urge to cry again, this time with happiness. 

“I thought you said that you couldn’t make it,” you said, pulling back to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Her laugh filled your ears and you were certain that, no you weren’t dreaming, you were just dating the most perfect girl to ever exist.

“I managed to talk my way out of practice. I owe our choreographer dinner, but it was more than worth it to be here.”

“But, you shouldn’t miss practice! Your comeback is soon and this is something so small, it really doesn’t matter that much.” Your voice trailed off as Yeji squeezed your hands again. You looked at her, your heart melting at the soft smile that was on her face, along with the look of complete adoration in her eyes.

“But it matters to you. If it matters to you, then it is the most important thing in the world. I know that you were looking forward to showing me your art, and you support me all the time, it’s my job to do the same for you,” she explained, her voice warm and steady. Your arguments died in your throat as you let your joy spread to your face, a smile breaking onto your features. You hugged her again, quicker this time, before pulling her into the exhibit.

You walked around, observing the art and talking about the different artists and techniques used, until finally you came to your piece. Yeji let go of your hand, her eyes wide as she walked closer to it, as if in a trance, while you watched from the sidelines with a smile on your face.

Splashes of neutral colors were painted onto the canvas, the watercolor causing the paint to flow from one color to the other. A large tree stood in the background, the brown standing out against the black and gray night sky. Warm white lights were painting along the branches of the tree, the watercolor allowing them to look as though they were truly glowing steady and bright. In the middle of it all was a beautiful girl, your muse. She looked off into the distance, her sweater pulled up above her palms as she held them to her face for warmth. Her brown hair flowed around her shoulders, perfectly messy in the way that only the girl could pull off.

To anyone else, the painting might have looked simple: a girl by a tree at night. But Yeji instantly recognized the photo. It was one of your favorite photos that you had taken a few months into your relationship with Yeji. You had it as your phone wallpaper, and you always gushed about how the picture captured Yeji’s subtle beauty in the best way; you even said this was the night that you knew you truly and wholeheartedly loved Yeji.

Yeji turned to you, tears in her eyes as she looked back at the portrait, and then back at you. She rushed to you, pressing her lips to yours as she tried to convey all the love that she held for you. You kissed back, your own way of letting her know that you loved her too, and that this picture was just one way of how you showed that.

When she pulled away, she was giggling happily, a single tear streaking down her skin. You brushed it away with your thumb, smiling at her fondly.

“It’s me. You painted me,” Yeji said, her voice trembling as she smiled that smile that made her look just like a little kitten. You kissed her nose, nodding as you pulled back.

“Of course I did. You’re a work of art. I’m glad you think I captured your essence. I was worried you’d think I didn’t do you justice.” Yeji scoffed at your statement, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Didn’t do me justice? Y/N, you’ve painted me like an angel. You’ve done me the most justice than anyone could ever do,” she rambled, which caused you to laugh. She turned back to look it over again, before pulling out her phone to take a picture. Soon, she was typing away furiously, a mischievous smirk on her face. You raised an eyebrow as she tucked her phone back into her purse, a satisfied grin replacing the smirk as she took your hand again.

“What did you do?”

“I sent it to the Itzy groupchat. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t rub it in their faces that my partner made a masterpiece of me?” You laughed at her statement as she chuckled along with you.

“Now come on, I want to see the other art. Though, I doubt anything is gonna top yours.” You rolled your eyes softly, but couldn’t help but smile as she pulled you along gently, her hand in yours. 

Just the way it was meant to be.

[websfiles]

Remus gets a tattoo.

Remus had always admired all of sirius’ tattoos, he thought they were so beautiful and expressed so much emotion.

He remembers when Sirius got his first tattoo in fifth year, running down the side of his rib, III • X • MCMLX, Remus’ birthday.

Remus cried the first time he saw the tattoo because ‘That’s permanent you fucking git!’

But all the late nights spent cuddling after Sirius would wake up from a nightmare Remus would kiss every area of the tattoo, because Sirius was his git.

Throughout the year the tattoos just kept building up until his body was covered in art, every single one held meaning.

Remus would sit and trace his fingers over every last one, wishing his own body looked as beautiful as his boyfriends.

One time Sirius heard him say it out loud and began tracing his fingers over every scar on Remus’ body because, ‘These are your artworks, Re, more beautiful than mine.’

Sirius knew how much Remus loved his tattoos, so Sirius would occasionally paint him, every piece of skin he could access he would paint and sometimes even charm so that it wouldn’t melt off.

It became a daily occurrence, whenever Sirius got a new idea, he would have Remus lay on the common room couch as he inked his skin.

Remus thought Sirius looked beautiful as he concentrated, tongue in between his teeth with his hair pulled up into a bun, held together with his wand.

It was in one of these moments that Remus decided he wanted a tattoo, a permanent one.

The summer before their 7th year was the summer Sirius had ran away and was now staying with the potters, and even though he had been disowned and was suffering the worst Remus has ever seen, he became happier than he had ever been.

The night before going to the Potter’s on the last day of summer was the night Remus decided to get the tattoo.

He didn’t tell any of his friends about getting it because he was nervous of what their reactions would be, especially Sirius’.

He was also expecting it to be sore considering Sirius cried like a bitch the first five times he got one but he thought it just tickled.

He got his tattoo where Sirius had also got his first, down his rib was now covered by what was Canis Major.

When Remus saw it in the mirror for the first time he freaked the fuck out, first with panic, but then with pure love and excitement.

Remus planned to show Sirius when they got to Hogwarts, but when he got to the Potter’s the day after getting the tattoo he was met by Sirius at the front door.

Sirius had pulled Remus in for a suffocating hug, Sirius’ arms wrapping around Remus’ middle.

Forgetting about the fresh tattoo on his side Remus let out a sharp wince of pain when he made contact with Sirius, causing him to immediately recoil.

“Fuck! Remus what’s wrong?”

“Pads, it’s nothi-”

“No, it’s clearly something if you’re reacting like that!”

Before Remus could react Sirius was already lifting up the hem of Remus’ shirt, bracing for some sort of injury he assumed would’ve been from a full moon, but instead he was met with the marked ribs, still red and swollen, but that’s not what Sirius was focused on.

“Remus, I-”, Sirius just froze with a look of complete and utter shock on his face, staring at the constellation now on his boyfriend's body.

“Shit! You hate it don’t you? I knew this was a stupid idea, god I’m such a twa-”

Remus’ rambling was stopped by Sirius pulling him in for a soft, gentle, and... wet? Kiss? Was he crying?

Remus brought his hands up to wipe the tears off Sirius’ face, but Sirius was smiling now, probably one of the biggest smiles Remus had ever seen.

“I- I can’t believe you could get any fucking sexier. It’s Beautiful Moons, I love it.”

“Then why are you crying, I thought you hated it you bloody moron.”

Sirius just brought his eyes up to meet Remus’, and with a smirk placed a soft kiss to the red area on his side,

“Because, that’s permanent you fucking git.”

[marinerofthestars]

the zodai tag

bit of a late arrival to this fandom, but better late than never, i suppose!

1. How did you hear about the books? about a year ago, i was doing research on the zodiac for an urban fantasy project i’m working on, tales from omphalos, when i found the house ophiuchus info page on the zodiac website. unfortunately life got in the way and i forgot the series for a while, but a little while ago i remembered zodiac’s worldbuilding and got sucked right back in!

2. What is your favorite moment from the series so far? it’s hard to choose just one moment, but i’d have to say skarlet and rho’s first meeting in black moon for how atypical it is. we know skarlet is the hypotenuse in rho and hysan’s love triangle, but she doesn’t act like the stereotypical petty Other Woman at all. she’s charismatic, she’s genuinely fun to be around, and she has sympathetic motives and ambitions. above all, she’s actually super nice towards rho, and doesn’t let her feelings get in the way of their political collaboration. (and then thirteen rising assassinated her character. yes i am still bitter about it why do you ask)

3. Which House are you from? house leo!

4. What do you like about your House? artistry pride is something i’d really love to be a part of as an aspiring author, i have blaze and trax (both criminally underrated characters imo) as my housemates, and our zodai wield FLAMING SWORDS in battle. what’s not to love?

5. If you had to change Houses, which House would you pick? since leo really vibes with my passion for art, this is definitely a tricky question! probably either libra (police brutality is a thing of the past with bind, and their government seems like they have their act together), scorpio (much waterworld. much ambition. much cool tech. wow), or sagittarius (diversity, democracies where the voices of the young and non-complacent can be heard, and really vibrant cities are all things i appreciate)

6. Which system would you most like to visit? capricorn, no question. the zodiax is THE single most location in the entire zodiac bar none to me - an ancient complex the size of a planet, its oldest curators having access to transportation systems most inhabitants don’t even know about? an archive of humanity’s collective knowledge, so massive it has hotels and restaurants within it because leaving to sleep or eat is just so impractical? LET ME TOUR IT. LET ME UNCOVER ITS MYSTERIES I KNOW THEY EXIST (i think history is rad okay)

7. If you got to choose, which Zodiac technology would you like to have? probably...the tattoo? i don’t have anywhere enough knowledge about neuroscience/engineering to design my own, but assuming that i did, i’d love to design a tattoo that can interface with my brain and with digital art software, so that i can turn whatever ideas i have in my head into artwork!

8. Which character would you want as a best friend? skarlet. she’s six feet tall, buff as all hell, super attractive, prefers diplomacy to violence but still perfectly capable of kicking ass, and an outspoken risers’ rights activist. what’s not to love? (though knowing the type of people i usually hang out with, i’d probably end up with like. twain or gyzer as my best friend. one can dream though)

9. Which sign would you like to date? aries, because as previously stated skarlet is awesome. (a sentiment i will continue to reiterate) failing that, either libra for their sense of justice, scorpio for their ambition and passion, or aquarius for their innovative mindset.

10. Who do you hope Rho “ends up with?” (If anyone at all!) firstly, thank you for acknowledging that rho might not be interested in romance after everything she’s been through. (aromantic rho? arho?) secondly: skarlet.

this might be a little controversial, but i feel like in some regards, rho has far more chemistry with skarlet than she has with hysan. (ms. russell. i am sorry but. i have. Issues. with ‘centaur smile’ and the context surrounding it doesn’t make it any better) all of their interactions are marked by a noted admiration on rho’s part, and it’s not just merely admiration of her frankly enviable body (there’s more than enough of that, but it feels respectful somehow, there’s no five-page purple prosey ramblings on how the sweat glints on skar’s brow as she lifts weights, unlike with some people - sorry, mathias), but admiration of skar’s personality.

her charisma. her ambitions. her drive to fight for people who’ve been beaten down for millennia, to give a voice to the voiceless. to use violence as a last resort, not a first strike.

even at their absolute worst in thirteen rising, even when they’re butting heads, they don’t let it get in the way of doing what needs to be done. hell, skarlet even points out that she wouldn’t be giving rho such a hard time if she didn’t respect the hell out of rho, if she didn’t think she was tough enough to take it. there’s a sort of unspoken bond between them, a slow orbit that they’re both caught in. at the end of the series, they part way on relatively good terms, and with the hope that maybe, just maybe, that orbit might become something more than just professional acquaintance.

also their oppositional dichotomy of cardinal fire/water signs is an awesome aesthetic that i really wish was brought up more than it was in canon :( 

11. If you could record a Snow Globe, what would you put in it? only A snow globe? you’re not exactly giving me a lot of slack here in all seriousness, if i had to choose one moment to record in a snow globe, probably the moment i first came up with the idea for the urban fantasy project i mentioned above, tales from omphalos. i’ve never been devoted as much time to or invested as much energy in a project as i have with tfo, and i’d like to keep an easily accessible record of my original vision on hand. and hey, if by some chance i manage to follow in romina’s footsteps, get tales from omphalos professionally published, have it become a big success with a respectable fandom, i’d like to look back every once in a while, and remember how it all began.

12. If you had the chance to tell Rho anything, what advice/encouragement would you give her? - lies, especially lies of omission, are necessary a lot of the time to get ahead in politics and life in general use that being ahead to help out the people and groups you care about - don't trust the immortal child-aristocrats or expect them to behave in a way that won't inevitably screw you over - if you must play nice with them, figure out how to decrease gemini’s horrific income inequality, and see what you can do about exporting cell rejuvenation therapy to the wider zodiac - ferez is right, risers are the future and you need to acknowledge that going forward - skarlet is excellent at garnering support and bridging generational gaps, and while fernanda purecell is a bougie running dog, she’s got her head screwed on the right way regarding politics and institutional riserphobia; together, the three of you should be able to make some headway towards making amends for past wrongs - i don’t care if family heads have suffrage, matriarchal aristocracy (aristocratic matriarchy?) is NOT a democracy or a form of government that looks out for the rights of men/NB people/agender people/multigender people/intersex people/you get the idea - romance is by no means an exclusively two-player game, and skarlet has said she would be open to an arrangement; however, if you MUST insist on ignoring that polyamory is a thing, go for the six-foot risers' rights activist - i’m sorry about all the bullshit with your mom. whatever the end result was, whatever her intentions, it does not excuse the way she treated you and your dad and stanton. it’s okay to feel like shit because of what she did to you, and not being able to wall it off doesn’t make you weak or anything dumb like that - you’re already far stronger than she ever was. i know how much it sucks - i was in the same situation as you once - but believe me when i say that things do get better. you’re not alone here, rho. - please you gotta fight the gender binary you live in the FUTURE you gotta do it you gotta-

BONUS QUESTION 13. How would you react if your friend became a Riser? let them know that I love and support them no matter what their house, that being the way that they are is totally valid, and that anyone who says otherwise will have to answer to my fist in their face. if they’re unbalanced, make sure they have access to any resources they need (possibly including memory recap vlogs, definitely including medication and therapy to help out with any health issues they may develop).

[silvia7272]

7 ~ Its Costume Change Time.

I kinda lost track of how many I’ve made at this point, (It's actually 10) but I was in a creative mood and wanted to drabble with the information the superheroes have gotten already. I’m excited cause I’m happy with the artwork I made alongside this, so I really hope you like it.

Chloé Bourgeois is like an older version of Hiyoko Saiyonji (From Danganronpa) but one is hated while the other is loved and I don't really get it.

Word Count: 4479

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @daminett4life, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck​, @themamaravenclaw, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say.

***

“Sooooo~ you wanted to see us?” A confused black cat hero pondered as he was on top of a supposedly abandoned building. He had gotten a call from his Lady asking him to meet her and Crisono at this specific location. Apparently, the redhead had seen it whilst circling Paris. He of course came and was reunited with the two heroines.

“Yes, pardon if I may have intruded on any free time you had but I thought since there aren’t any Akuma’s today I should ask for some first-hand information” Chat saw a whiteboard behind Crisono, and finally took notice of other belongings that didn’t seem to fit with the abandoned building appearance. Maybe this was some sort of hangout?

Maybe that meant they could all watch Big Hero 6?

‘Chat focus!’

“It's fine, I wasn’t doing anything important anyway” In truth, he was meant to be practising some piano but that could wait.

“Oh good, I’m glad. Ok, first I would like to know the radius of how far the Akuma’s can go? Whether once someone is controlled will they always be under Hawkmoth’s spell or if distance matters?” A map of Paris had appeared while Chat tried to think.

“We’ve never actually investigated that before, we’re more focused on catching the Akuma than becoming a detective right M’Lady?” She nods as well.

“But I guess when there was an Akuma on a train half a year ago, the train driver was Akumatized and led everyone to space by her own free will, so maybe around there.” Ladybug circled the area of the map she believed the spot could be.

“Ok it’s a start, maybe one day we can go along the tracks and see if we can nearly become Akumatized? Or possibly get a willing volunteer to help us out? But we’d have to take precautions of course. If we can no longer summon a butterfly, then we’ll soon find the radius. That way it could be safer for us as we’ll have an area to work with, to see where the mastermind is.” She sure seemed confident.

“It would have to be on a day no Akuma’s will be sent out, it would take too long to get back to Paris in case there’s an emergency.”

“I suppose if one of us stays behind to keep an eye on matters here that would be fine, or if we have back up for some moments”

“It depends if Master Fū would let us use the Miraculous like that”

“I’m sure it will be fine, as long as it's for a better cause”

“Yeah I suppose you’re right” Chat watched as they negotiated back and forth, it was interesting. He found it almost enjoyable to listen to them talk, this was all so exciting to him, a mystery yet to be discovered.

Although the way they talked… It was like they had been acquainted before.

Before they all knew each other perhaps?

Then did that mean Rosina knew Ladybug’s identity?

“Chat have you been listening!?” A stern Ladybug asked. He was caught, he shrugged and gave a guilty smile to her as she put her hand to her forehead.

“Don’t worry its fine Ladybug. Cheer up. I’m sure we can find Hawkmoth soon, with all of our help combined I’m sure it’ll be a victory.” She pumped her fist out with Chat joining in as well. It was nice to have someone as energetic as himself on the Team now. Who knows, maybe Ladybug could lighten up a bit more and learn to have more fun?

“Although there are other things to go over as well? I may need an account of all of the Akuma’s that have happened, their powers and Akumatized items, possibly a tally chart of how many times they’ve been Akumatized as well. Then there's where exactly they’ve been Akumatized, it may form a pattern pointing to Hawkmoth. Even the centre of the radius could give up a point” She was rambling now, and Chat couldn’t comprehend most of what she was saying because of how fast it came.

“Hold up Crissi, you’re going too fast. And how long have you been thinking of this? Have you done this before?” She looked over to Chat for an awkward amount of time before blinking… Very… Slowly.

.

.

“Yes…?”

“That doesn’t sound convincing at all” What did she have to hide?

“Yeah you’re probably right”

.

.

.

“Let us get back to business, shall we?” They spent the next hour coming up with potential plans to do in their spare time.

***

It was afternoon by the time they had finally finished.

They all went their separate ways to rest and hopefully continue further on another free day. She knew it would take a while before she could get an account for every single Akuma that had ever happened.

Hopefully sooner than later, Crisono still had a lot to talk about.

The duo was impressed with her vast knowledge of ideas for this type of thing, she definitely did this before, but with what a black feline couldn’t work out.

Crisono had taken to swing through the buildings of Paris to relax, she had done too much explaining in a single day she needed to stretch herself. Her Aunt had nagged her to teach them more about the analytical side of being a hero… The detective side basically. And she didn’t believe Ladybug and her Aunt would be comfortable in the same room together. So regrettably she had to take on the burden. And it had burnt her out, she sighed as she tried to think of anything she may have forgotten before she spotted someone standing on a rooftop.

‘Is that-? It is!’ She smiled with glee, she was able to see two of her friends in a single day, and not even with school playing a factor.

She glided over near her, hoping to playfully scare her, like a jest she had done to Mari that one time, she still didn’t know why she was so angry with that but oh well, maybe Chloé would appreciate her humour. Oh dear Lord no

.

But she couldn’t bring herself to.

Not after seeing the same sadness she saw similar to the Luxembourg trip.

“Chloé?” She saw the blonde's eyes widen and look to her, that sadness disappeared and was filled with annoyance.

“What are you doing here- More importantly, how did you get here!” Crisono pointed to her grappling hook before plopping down on the railing, sitting on it. It was extremely cold and uncomfortable, but she was this far already she can stick it out.

“I was out with Ladybug and Chat Noir, since I’m still new here I wanted as much information we had on Hawkmoth and Akuma’s. So, I’ll probably start asking for first-hand accounts from people” She probably shouldn’t be divulging this type of information to a civilian, but she was sure Ladybug wouldn’t mind, after all, they were all friends.

“That won’t work, Akuma victims forget everything afterwards” She mumbled into her arms but Crissi could still make out every word.

“Really, well that’s a bummer. Well~ I still have plenty of ideas left to use” It became silent, and since Rosina hadn’t been in company like ever, she just figured Chloé had grown bored of talking.

.

.

.

“Why did you become a hero?” She was surprised by that question, normally they’d talk about other common teenager things, or as common as Rosina would read about them in magazines.

“Well, my Aunty asked me if I had wanted to become one when we were fighting, err crime. She trained me all my life but always made sure I was safe. I really wanted to become a hero because I wanted people to think of me as a number”

“Huh?” Chloé heard something similar when she reluctantly looked at the LadyBlog after finding out Rosina was Crisono. She mentioned something about numbers, but no one knew what that meant.

“What do you mean by that?” Crisono looked out at the horizon, and for once, Chloé noticed there wasn’t a smile on her face.

“I believe everyone has a number.” She fiddled with her ring, almost playing with it.

“Dedicated just to them, for how many people care for them. The number is solid and cannot be changed. It will be constant for all your life. You may think you have more, but you will acknowledge how true that number is. In truth, I believe I have a low number… Which is why I want to be a number for everyone else.” That… Kinda made sense. Chloé saw how she was still kind to everyone that she met, even to Lila. She gave everyone new to her a compliment, she never seemed angry at anyone of her classmates, even if they wanted to take her away.

“I’ve always known my number to be lower than everyone else's. But that’s because I haven’t interacted with anyone else before now. And I’ve… Accepted that it won’t be higher, but to be someone else’s number, without having to receive anything in return would just be bliss to me. But I know when not to push it.” She stood on top of the railings and started walking around, she was getting antsy from staying in one place.

‘She’s in heels how is she able to walk on something so tiny?’ Chloé thought to herself.

“I get it, you want people to remember you. I kinda thought the same” Crisono looked over to her to let her know she could continue.

“I… Thought I couldn’t be a hero as myself, because no one would’ve trusted me to believe me. I thought because I was still Chloé Bourgeois, everyone would still hate me. But then… When I got a Miraculous, it was amazing, I thought I could be just like her. Like Ladybug. I wanted to try and help people, and I thought I was getting better at it.” She smiled ever so slightly, but it quickly vanished.

“But I blew it. I failed at the first rule of being a hero, I was so angry at my Mother that I exposed the fact I had the Miraculous. And because of my anger and ideals of being a heroine, I put so many people in danger. People could've been hurt but I was more focused on thinking I was a hero than being a hero.”

“Chloé…”

“Because I wanted to be Queen Bee, not Chloé Bourgeois! And I couldn’t even do that.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as Rosina stood in silence.

All she wanted was to be nice but didn’t know how. With everything Chloé had told the redhead, she’d been given everything in her life with the snap of her fingers, if you had that chance what need was there to be nice? At least that’s what Rosina concluded.

So, she hugged her. Causing Chloé to freeze at the sudden contact before slowly wrapping her arms around her, letting it out. Even if she cried for a brief time, she needed it.

“Chloé. I don’t think you need to be Queen Bee to be considered a hero. We can help you. Me, Marinette and Kagami too.” The blonde wiped her eyes, hellbent on stopping this show of emotions.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend. No one will believe me, hell I don’t think I could believe myself. I’m utterly ridiculous for thinking I could even be a hero anymore” She argued back, even if they were friends she didn’t know for how long, what if she did something she couldn’t take back, if she went too far because she wasn’t aware of self-control, what if she was left all alone again? What if-

“Chloé, you don’t need powers, or a costume, or money to be a hero. Just do what your heart wants, morally do what's best, we can help you with every step. You’ll never be alone Chloé. Just trust us. Let me help you be Chloé Bourgeois”

She immediately hugged her back, the waterworks flowing down again.

“Thanks, Rosy”

“C’mon Chloé no more tears, we have to be happy so no Akuma’s come and bother us.” She put a finger to her cheek, thinking of a solution.

“I know, why don’t we go flying again?” Before Chloé had any time to register what the younger heroine had suggested, they had already jumped off the building. Chloé screamed before hanging onto Crisono for dear life as said girl made the hovering board, Chloé soon realised she had grown to resent that contraption with a growing passion.

‘Besides, I think I have an idea on how you can be a hero Chlo’

***

“What do you mean it won’t work?” They were both on the balcony at their newfound home. They had to either stay there or go on different roofs after Marinette’s Parents would come into the room unannounced, and as much as Rosina found it endearing, it wouldn’t help the duo if they overheard them being heroines.

“I’m sorry Rosy, it's not that she isn’t my friend. It's just because she revealed herself to all of Paris. Including Hawkmoth. If I gave her Miraculous again her Parents, friends and home could all be targeted. And I couldn’t live with myself if they got hurt for Chloé” Marinette had momentarily stopped drawing as she said the last sentence.

“I guess I didn’t think of it like that. When people have loved ones to consider getting hurt that makes revealing stuff tricker” Marinette gave a confused look before she realised what she meant.

“Trickier”

“Oh? Thanks, Mari” It was silent as they look upon the night view. Rosina thinking of ways to help her friend. To be a hero in and out of costume.

“She is starting to become better, but I doubt Master Fū would allow it to happen again. Chloé would have to make sure she never lets anything slip about her being Chloé or Queen Bee.”

“So, wouldn’t that mean she can have a different Miraculous?” The Silver eyed girl mused, it seemed so simple to her.

“I doubt Chloé would like that either”

“How come?” Turning her head to the side so she knew she was paying attention.

“I saw how happy she was when Pollen was there, it was like she was truly delighted, I did think she was the perfect Chosen for the Bee Miraculous, but now who would take it without Chloé being upset and causing an Akuma-”

“Marinette calm down, you’re thinking too far ahead again!” Tikki insisted, floating up to place both her hands on Marinette’s cheeks.

“Tikki’s right, it hasn’t happened so no need to worry” Rosina was trying to remain positive; she swore she would never attract another Akuma ever.

“Right… Thanks, guys”

“It's too bad you can’t change the costumes, Aunty told me since its magic no one can tell who it is behind the mask so a costume change would be great… No idea why no one knows it's me then?” The bluenette jumped when she heard what the other had muttered out.

“Wait- What was that?” She asked.

“Yeah, no one knows it's me even though I don’t have magic” Thinking that had been what Mari was talking about, she finished with her trademark smile.

“Isn’t your ring magic?”

.

.

.

“I thought it was just a special worm on a string?” She was so confused.

‘So that’s what it was’

“…I meant the other part” Marinette sweatdropped. Her behaviour should’ve been expected at this point, but she was still random.

“Changing costumes?” She tilted her head as Marinette's smile widened. She had an idea.

“Tikki, you said that the Miraculous responds to the Chosen’s wishes of what outfit we have right?”

“Yes?” She was just as puzzled as Rosina.

“Then would it be possible to change it again?” Tikki’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I see yes of course” She nodded in understanding.

“Chloé must’ve modelled her outfit after mine, so maybe if I can change it enough for Hawkmoth not to recognise her then she could be a hero again. Now I have to design until I’ve worked out which one is best. C’mon Rosina, let’s go back home, I’m sure Maman has some cookies for you.” Rosina’s eyes widened before picking Marinette and Tikki up and running straight towards the kitchen.

Boy did she have too much energy.

***

“Ok guys Cya, I need to go” Their redheaded friend enthusiastically waved as they ran off for their fencing lesson.

“Man is she too energetic at times” Marinette sighed.

“You have no idea, I had to pry caster sugar off her at one point” She shuddered as she recalled that memory. They continued talking as they had these past weeks. If you had told the two, they would be friends when they were 10, they would’ve scoffed at you while one would say utterly ridiculous multiple times. But they had changed that. And as they made plans in Chloé’s room they found they were becoming closer, not best friends yet, but they would get there. There was no doubt Rosina was already thinking they were best friends. But what else could they expect from their new friend?

A few hours passed by before Marinette had to get going, something about her Parents needing help.

Chloé didn’t really remember what but she did know one thing.

She was alone.

In her empty room.

And no one was there.

But of course, she was used to it. Besides, she could call them later on… Wait Rosina still didn’t have a phone.

“I know. I declare for my first act of being nice, I’ll get Rosina a phone. She’ll remember the first phone so much she’ll never get rid of it.” She starts looking at phones for her friend. Which one would be the best for her, which had the best reviews, which one was the easiest for her to use considering she doubted she’s ever had one before?

“That one looks cute, ugh this is so boring, I wasn’t made to be a search engine. Ughhhhhh, I want Jean to do this, but it has to come from me… How does anyone do this? I hate my life” She dramatically flopped onto her bed; all the woes of her thumb aching fallen on Death ears.

“Is this a bad time then?”

!!!

“Ladybug! You came to help me wow you must’ve sensed it- Wait! Crisono?” She waved as Chloé stood frozen mid hug from Ladybug.

“Yep, surprise”

“No-no, I can only have Ladybug here I’ll talk to you later, but you have to go” Chloé tried to push Crisono out the balcony. She saw her jump off buildings all the time she wasn’t worried. And like hell was she going to spill her surprise.

“Wait Chloé, I came here on official hero business” She tried to reason.

“Then do it somewhere else”

“It involves you Chlo” She halted her movements.

“Me?” Ladybug took that as an indication to continue.

“Yes, Chloé, it's about your position with the Miraculous. I’m sorry I never really talked to you about it. Crisono talked to me because you felt upset” Chloé glared at Crisono, hadn’t that meant to be a private conversation? However she couldn’t stay mad for too long, she only did what she thought was right. Plus, she was a hero.

A real hero.

“Who said I was upset, I’m not upset. I don’t need to be Queen Bee anymore.” Chloé tried to put on a strong face, but anyone could see through it, it was just they didn’t seem to point it out.

“Think we can talk about it?” Ladybug felt it was weird to have this type of relationship with Chloé, after always fending off her attacks of affection, willingly coming over to the hotel seemed absurd.

So, they talked.

But really talked.

Chloé may not have been the first intended target but she was damn better than the previous one in the long haul.

“I understand Ladybug. I don’t blame you for doing the right thing, that’s why I idolise you so much. You always look out for everyone good or bad.” Chloé waved her hand dismissively even if Ladybug could tell she really wanted to be a hero.

“Chloé, listen to me. I heard about the incident with Lila at your school, and how you’ve changed since you’ve gotten two friends pointing you in the right direction, and how you're treating them fairly. You’re learning Chloé, and I’d like to help too” Ladybug pulled out a box containing something Chloé knew all too well.

“That’s-” She was about to reach out but stopped midway.

“Are you sure? I mean I know I am the best wielder of the Bee Miraculous but why now?” Ladybug smiled. Chloé always had to brag about something even at a time like this. Good, she should be confident, and not change too much to be someone she’s not.

“This will be the start of your test to continue being a hero. Crisono and I will train you to become a stronger hero. In the end, the Master will decide if you can continue or not. But there is one condition” Chloé grimaced as she could guess what it would be.

“I know, I know, I won’t reveal my identity to anyone… But, you do know I know who Crisono is right?”

“Yep she knows, I told her first and its ok. I only let my friends know” Plus Adrian she wanted to add but that would cause an argument about her being careless and this was about Chloé, not her.

“Actually, two conditions” She nodded, whatever it took to be a hero for Ladybug, no for herself. She had to prove it to herself the most before heroing.

“Because you’ve revealed yourself you must change your costume design, I was able to draw a design I think best suits you” She handed the blonde some paper, wow Chloé muttered. Her designs were on par with Marinette, maybe they drew together?

“You have to think of that design once you transform, Pollen has already seen it and knows, once you both think of it, you’ll be able to change it. And you must change your name” The two hero’s smiled.

.

.

.

“That’s actually three things”

“Chloé!”

“Alright chill” She was given the box with her Pollen pooping out. They embraced each other as it had been so long since their last meeting.

“I missed you so much” After a few minutes they began pondering name ideas, each one getting shot down by Chloé herself.

“Ugh, none of these can stand up to Queen Bee! Can’t I just be Queen Bee 2?”

“No Chloé,” Crisono was thinking intently. Scribbles of names on paper were scattered everywhere as none could satisfy the young blonde.

“Wait, what about Sovereign Stinger?” The blonde’s head perked up.

“Having a supreme rank aspect like a Queen, as well as a quality for a Bee … Well?”

“Well I guess it’ll do; I’ll keep it for now before a more efficient name matches my graces” Secretly she loved the name. It was long and was fancy, as if she’d change it, she just didn’t want to seem like she enjoyed it. Another hug ensured before Ladybug had to leave and go back, Crisono copying her.

“Remember Chloé, become a hero you want to be, continue being Chloé Bourgeois.” And they left.

“…She is getting the best phone ever”

***

Chloé was experiencing an emotion she’d never felt before.

Never in her life.

What was it?

It's definitely not because she had found the perfect phone for her friend.

Or that she had a smaller gift for her two friends as well.

Or that this would be the first gift she’s given to them; the hotel didn’t count shut up.

It most certainly wasn’t the fact they were standing in front of her after she pulled them both into an empty classroom.

It sooo wasn’t the fact that she was nervous or anything.

“Well, Chloé? What is it?” Marinette inquisitively asked, Rosina busy standing on the desks with her arms, legs straight in the air.

‘Too much energy’

“Look, Rosina, I know you don’t have a…” She muttered something the girls couldn’t figure out. Baffled for why the girl was blushing so much.

“So… I- ugh, here!” She shoved the gift into the direction of the redhead. Rosina swivelled around to sit on the desk, her Aunt told her when receiving a gift, you must sit properly, or it’ll be rude, and she didn’t want to be rude to her friends.

She pulled a rectangular box out of a pretty bag that Marinette deduced cost a bomb itself.

“A… Phone?” Rosina tilted her head, showing she was confused.

“S-So we can all keep in touch. It’s a bother having to text Marinette every time I want to tell you something so this was a better solution” Rosina would’ve hugged the girl then, but she held up her hand.

“Hold on you haven’t opened everything yet, one of them is for you D- Marinette” She caught herself, thank god.

Marinette took the bag and out came two phone charms. There were three flowers tied in a circle, one blue, one red, and one yellow. Except for the blue on one was bigger while the red remained a smaller size. The reverse effect on the other.

‘They were specifically made for us in mind?’ The bluenette concluded.

“Huh? A charm?” The Silver-eyed child guessed, it looked so pretty, she didn’t know what it was for. But she was sooo going to keep it.

“I thought they'd make the phone look better… Well?” She knew they may not like them, Chloé knew she should’ve gotten the bigger charms, but Jean said these would be better.

“Anyway, it's not like they mean anything, they came with the phone” Marinette would have given a remark back to the girl, if she hadn’t noticed the charm on said girls own phone. She was trying but still didn’t know how to say it, she could see she cared though, otherwise, what would the point in getting all three identical charms?

“Thanks so much, Chlo, I’ve never had a charm before. Thanks!” The redhead hugged the other, the blonde already used to the affection at this point pat her head.

“Yes yes, now get off you’re ruining our clothes.” She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

‘Keep up the good work Chloé. I know you can do it.’ She placed her own charm on her phone.

A reminder that these were her friends.

And she was damn sure she would keep them.

***

How do you like it? I wanted to try and give Chloé a steady Redemption Arc but still with her in character, so it doesn’t seem too soon of a change for her, is this good or should she still be different about it. Also, I’m going to upload the picture separately since I think that might seem better and not as many tags.

Question, should I make some art posts for some ML characters? Like just a short story for any character you request. It will give me something to do and I can further develop a character for my story. Up to you, I just need to hone my drawing skills. I kinda forget stuff I’ve already written about, so I think I haven’t stated Rosina has a phone beside the first thing I posted but that one happens in the future.

Also is anyone interested in a final songfic? One last sone for that series to end, it would have Marinette sing the song that was on the piece of paper. Plus plenty of class salt.

Have a nice day.

[dreaming-of-haikyuu]

dad!captains (haikyuu)

I’ve been hella busy this month, but I really wanted to write some haikyuu captains as dads for today! Happy (kinda late) father’s day :)))

Sawamura Daichi: 

First of the Karasuno team to get married and have children

The hot dad every middle aged lady adores

Daichi would want one boy first and then a girl

But probably will wind up having 2 boys first and then a girl after persuading his s/o for another one

His baby girl is the best, even though he says he doesn’t have favorites 

Whoever she dates in the future must have a talk with him 

His sons will be volleyball players. They are both wing spikers: the oldest is a captain and the second will be the ace of his team!

Doesn’t care what his children are doing as long as they tell him where they are going. He trusts that they will not do bad things

Daichi honestly is the best dad, with a very authoritative style of parenting

Kuroo Tetsurou: 

Dad jokes oh my god

Embarrasses his kids on purpose

Sometimes, it’s not even intentional. It’s just his personality 

Kuroo will deadass not care if they’re in public and will hold up a pack of tampons and ask, “Is this the kind you want?”

He probably wants daughters so his mom can dress them up

He’s the breadwinner of the family, so he gets home pretty late from work

Even though Kuroo’s always coming home late, he’ll never forget to pop in his kids’ room to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight

He’s affectionate, but he doesn’t overdo it

Just a little protective over his kids

Packs a snack for his kid every morning

Wishes he can spend more time with his children before they grow up

Will joke to his s/o about having another kid when his babies turn 18

Oikawa Tooru: 

Oikawa’s another dad who only wants girls lol

I mean he doesn’t mind having a son as well, but he wants a princess ok

His wish is granted! He has one daughter who is his EVERYTHING

He would love to have more kids, but he feels like he could not be responsible enough on top of his job

Wants to spoil his child rotten but his s/o will keep them in check

Eventually he finds a middle ground in his parenting style

Daughter gets his talent in volleyball, but she plays libero instead!

Supportive !!!!

Will go to every single one of her games & be the loudest parent there

Gets hit on by the moms there

His s/o at this point doesn’t care + he gets a little hurt that they don’t get jealous anymore 

If he does have more children, he will raise them with basically the same amount of love as he did for his first child

Runs an Instagram for his children

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

I already wrote some dad headcanons for him, but I’ll restate them below!

Will be a strict dad when he has kids

He is determined to raise them with good morals

Wants at least 2 kids cause he felt a bit lonely growing up (twins !!)

Soon enough, he’d probably want to make or adopt enough kids to establish a whole volleyball team

though that might be financially difficult

okay, time for some new hcs lol

Ushijima is his children's role model

He may be hard to approach since he doesn’t really know how to show affection to his kids

Watches ghibli movies with his family

Allows his children pursue their hobbies no matter what it is

If his children plays volleyball, he’d be more than happy to coach them!

Bokuto Koutarou: 

When he first heard the news that he was going to be a father, I don’t think he was really prepared for it

Bokuto doesn’t have a preference on boys or girls. He just wants them to be healthy when they are born!

He tries his best to learn though books and the internet

Watched too many YouTube videos that kind of scared him at first

Probably asked Kuroo or Akaashi for advice 

He’s quite the energetic dad

Good at playing with kids but struggles on learning how to handle them

Doesn’t get angry with his children often, just disappointed if they do something wrong

It takes him a while to develop true dad skills

At first he was a bit impatient, but he soon understood that he was the person that needed to guide them through life

But he tries his best, it’s all that matters!

Futakuchi Kenji:

Probably ended up accidentally conceiving a child but was somewhat ready to take on the responsibilities of a father 

Or if it was planned that his s/o wanted a child, he would be okay with it

He doesn’t really object to the idea of having a kid, he just didn’t think he would have one pretty early when he just got out of college

Futakuchi isn’t really good with children but is down to teach them important life lessons

Enjoys holding hands with his kid on weekend walks to the park

Will teach them a bit of volleyball and ramble about his high school days

Reads books to his children cause he wants them to be smart

Enjoys taking pictures + making a photo album to look back at

The kind of dad that will take a “first day of school” picture of their child every single year and compile them in a slideshow for when their kid gets married

Terushima Yuuji: 

Terushima seems like the type of person who doesn’t settle down for anyone, but he eventually does before all of the captains

I don’t think he’s down to be a dad until after about 7 years with his s/o

The thought never crossed his mind until people began asking

His s/o also gave subtle hints that they wanted a child

He often contemplated whether or not he’s qualified to be a dad

When he eventually does become one, he’s the most devoted father ever

He tries to work extra shifts to provide more for his family

Piggyback rides, play wrestling, fun crafting sessions

Terushima loves showing off his kid’s artwork to former teammates and coworkers and gush how talented they are (even if it’s just a green glob with purple spikes)

His children are extra special to him because he made them! Or even if they are adopted, it doesn’t matter. They are his precious kids regardless of what people say.

[its-r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s]

Call Me A Freak- Chapter 5: Spells

Words: 1,572

Warnings: none that I can think of?

Ch 4 | Ch 6

~ ~ ~

Jane stopped by our room that day after classes. I was laid out across my bed, sketching, and Evie was sewing at the table.

“Mom said, ‘If a boy can’t see the beauty within then he’s not worth it,’” Jane explained. “Can you believe it? What world is she living in?”

“Auradon?” I grumbled, not looking up from my work. Jane was kind of useless to me if she couldn’t get the wand.

“Mal,” Evie interrupted. “Do you like?”

I glanced up at the item she had been sewing. It was a dark blue and black dress.

“Yeah,” I responded, not much conviction in my voice. “It’s cute. Brings out your eyes.”

“I know,” she said, sweetly.

I bit down on my cheek. It was something I often did when I was trying to hold myself back or stop myself from saying something.

I felt bad that my uninterested replies were enough for Evie. I wish that she would demand more from the people she called friends. She deserved it… but I couldn’t show her any more affection than I already did.

I couldn’t get close to her…

“I’ll never get a boyfriend!” Jane’s ramblings brought me back from my thoughts.

“Boyfriends are overrated.”

“And how would you know, Mal? You’ve never had one,” Evie teased.

“It’s ‘cause I don’t need one, E,” I shot back. “They’re a waste of time.”

Evie gasped, suddenly. “I forgot to do Chad’s homework!”

She jumped up, abandoning her work to scurry over to Chad’s backpack. I watched her go, incredulously.

“You’re doing Chad’s homework?” I scoffed. “That is exactly what I mean.”

There was a loud knocking from our wide open door, and in walked a tall girl, clad in a pink blouse and blue miniskirt.

“Hey guys!” She announced. “I’m Lonnie.”

We all just sort of stared at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

“My mom’s Mulan?” she tried again.

Evie turned away to work on her second round of homework for the night. Jane and I just continued to stare, unimpressed.

“No? Anyways, I love what you’ve done with Jane’s hair. And I know you hate us, and well… you’re evil…” I smiled at the comment, which seemed to unsettle her. “But do you think you could do mine?”

“Why would I do that for you?” I sneered.

“I’ll pay you fifty dollars,” she offered.

“Good answer,” Evie said, taking the money before I could argue. “I need to buy more material.”

She stood up, looking Lonnie up and down.

“Let’s see, I’m thinking we lose the bangs. Maybe some layers and some highlights,” she analysed.

“No, no,” Lonnie insisted. “I want it cool. Like Mal’s.”

I looked up from my artwork once more.

“Really?” Evie questioned. “The split ends, too?”

I glared up at Evie. Not so much for the comment, but because I knew she was going to insist I do this all so that she could buy some more fabric

She shook the bag, a smile on her face.

I groaned, rolling off the bed to grab my spellbook. “Okay.”

I opened it back up to find the spell I had used for Jane.

“Beware, forswear,” I repeated. “Replace the old with cool hair.”

Just as last time, I waved my finger around and slowly her short hair lengthened and the plain black color became an enriching brown ombre.

She hurried to the mirror in our room, staring at it.

“I know, I know,” Evie said, joining her in front of the mirror. “It looks like a mop on your head. You know what, let’s cut it off, layer it-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Lonnie stuttered. “I love it!”

“You do.” Evie almost sounded disappointed, although I wasn’t sure why. Lonnie was satisfied and she got her money.

“It’s just-” Lonnie hesitated, still staring at her reflection. Then, she reached down and ripped a slit into her skirt. “There. Now I’m cool.”

I found myself smiling unintentionally. “Like ice.”

Jane walked up beside her, taking Evie’s place, and did the same.

She gasped, staring at the barely visible tear in her dress. “What did I just do? Mom’s going to kill me.”

Evie looked at me, amused by their acts of rebellion and I couldn’t help but feel for them. It was nice to know that outside of being evil, my mother didn’t care what I did or what I wore. I didn’t have to be proper to impress anyone.

I just had to be the perfect little minion for her.

~ ~ ~

When Carlos walked in, I stopped cold. “Is that a dog in your arms?”

His face cracked open into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. “This is Dude. You won’t believe this, but he’s so sweet. He’s like my new best friend,” Carlos rambled. “Ben introduced me to him while I was practicing for Tourney. You should pet him. He’s so soft!”

I grimaced as he held the dog up to my face. “No thanks,” I responded. “Where’s Jay?”

“Talking to coach about joining the tourney team. Said he’d come over here as soon as he was done.”

I nodded and went back to flipping through the pages of my spellbook. I was doing my best to familiarize myself with it. I needed to know my resources and I wanted to memorize the more important spells.

Carlos sat on the floor, leaning up against the end of my bed, while Evie worked on more homework, asking her mirror for the answers.

“Yo!” Jay called, walking in with a brand new tourney jersey on. He danced excitedly as Carlos cheered him on.

“Did your plan work with Jane?” he asked, making his way around my bed. “You going over to see the wand?”

“Do you think I would be going through every single spell in this book if I hadn’t completely struck out?” I didn’t mean to reply so viciously, but something about the room was setting me off.

It started when Carlos walked in, talking about the dumb dog he had laid out beside him. And then Jay waltzing around in his new jersey. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way people in the room were acting.

“Oh, someone’s in a bad mood,” Carlos mumbled.

“My mom’s counting on me!” I shot back. “I can’t let her down.”

It was just a bit too homey. I was now sharing a room with Evie, who was concerned about my scars and the boys simply came in whenever they pleased. I didn’t like how our surroundings forced me to be open with my friends. It demanded that I be in their presence at all times.

“We can do this,” Jay reassured. All of us looked up at him. He had himself positioned in front of the window, looking unsure. “If we stick together.”

That was a big no-no. I didn’t do dumb motivational speeches.

“And we won’t go back, until we do,” I insisted, trying to move on from Jay’s comment. “Because we’re rotten…”

“To the core.” They all finished the phrase.

“Oh, yeah. I found out that Fairy Godmother blesses Ben with the wand at Coronation and we all get to go,” Evie explained calmly. “I have nothing to wear, of course.”

I glared at her. Sometimes I desperately wanted to know how Evie’s mind worked, because she was so good at playing with other people, and yet so oblivious.

“What?” she started to say, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Hold that thought.” I pulled my legs out from underneath me and rushed to the bedroom door.

Ben stood awkwardly in the hallway, his eyes widening as I opened the door for him. “Hey Mal. I didn’t see you guys today, I was just wondering if… you had any questions or… anything that… you needed?”

I pursed my lips, looking back at the others. “Not that I know of.”

“Okay. Alright, well uh…” He started to back away from the door. “If you need anything, just, uh-”

“Oh wait!” I called, interrupting his fumbling goodbye. “Is it true that we all get to go to your Coronation?”

He smiled, pleased by my interest. “Yeah, the whole school goes.”

“Wow,” I replied, twirling my hair in my fingers. “That is beyond exciting.”

“Do you think that it’s a possibility that the four of us could stand in the front row, next to the Fairy Godmother, just so that we could…” I took a deep breath in. “Soak up all that goodness?”

He opened his mouth, but it took a few seconds for any words to come out. “I wish you could. Up front it’s just me, my folks, and my girlfriend.”

My mind flashed back to a spell I had seen minutes prior. “And your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

I paused, trying to figure out if I needed anything else for this to work. But nothing came to mind.

I shot him a quick smile and began to close the door. “Okay, thanks! Bye!”

“Oh, no! There’s plenty of-” he tried to explain, but stopped himself when he realized I wasn’t going to reopen the door.

I looked at the rest of my gang and smirked. “I think it’s time that Ben got himself a new girlfriend.”

Everyone’s face lit up with realization. Evie was standing, running her tongue over her teeth and Jay looked almost giddy at the thought.

“I need a love spell.”

[sweetiepie08]

Musician with the Poison Tears (Chapter 9)

Miguel Rivera’s been fascinated by the story of the legendary ghost, the Musician with Poison Tears, since he was a kid. He’s always wanted to know the full story behind the weeping specter that haunts the train station with its invisible guitar. Now 18, the travels to Mexico City to try to observe the ghost from afar and get some clues about its origin. Who knows? He might even get a song out of it.

This story is based on the art and ghost!au created by @melcecilia14​. Go check out her artwork here, here, here, and here. It’s really awesome.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Epilogue.

Bonus.

Little Coco ran to Miguel as soon as he came in the door. He dropped his bags and swept her up in a hug. She squealed and laughed as he swung her around.

“Careful,” his mama said, dodging her daughter’s flying feet.

“I’m fine Mama,” Coco answered, her face still squished in her brother’s chest. He brain suddenly switched gears and she started squirming out of his arms. “Put me down! Put me down! I have to get my picture!”

Coco’s feet touched the floor and she bolted down the hall. Their parents wore amused smiles as they watched her go. “Welcome home, mi’jo,” his mother said, kissing him on the forehead.

His father pulled him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to hear all about your trip.”

Miguel smiled.  His parents, it seemed, were back to normal. At the very least they weren’t angry with him anymore. He looked over at his aunts and uncle hugging Rosa and Abel and asking about their trip. At least they were trying to over the rapid-fire questions from Benny and Manny. Papa Franco was even in the mix. Only one person seemed to be missing.

“Where’s Abuelita?” Miguel asked.

His parents locked eyes and shared the same concerned expression. So, she’s still mad.

“She’s in the kitchen,” his mother finally offered.

Miguel thanked her, picked up his things, and made his way to the kitchen. There, he found her sitting at the table with a cup of tea. “Abuelita, look who’s back,” he said as he entered the room.

She barely glanced up at him then went back to her tea.

“Abuelo Roberto said he’s been working on his poker game, so you better watch out next Christmas.”

She ignored him still.

“Abuelita, can you please say something?” Miguel sat down next to her and rested his guitar case by the table leg.

Abuelita glared pointedly at it, stood up, and left the room without a single word to Miguel.  

Defeated, Miguel slinked off to his room. He parked his suitcase by the door and rested the guitar case on the bed. Now what? He sunk down onto the bed with his guitar. The rest of his family didn’t seem to be angry anymore, though they did seem to be a little nervous about the topic of music. He saw them glancing at his guitar, like he was carrying a bomb or something. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he had a drug problem or was getting into fights. All he wanted was to be a musician, but his abuelita seemed ready to disown him just for that.

And what was the problem, anyway? In this day and age? Sure, back when his great-great grandfather left, it was harder to stay in touch. But now? He had all sorts of ways to contact them and he could travel much faster. It wasn’t like the old days. He wouldn’t end up like his great-great grandfather. Why couldn’t they see that?

“Mama Coco, what do I do?” he said to the picture on the dresser. “They don’t trust me. They think if I leave, if I try to become a musician I’ll never come back, but I know I will. You know I will. I remember, you used to sing to me in secret. You loved music too. You would have wanted this for me. How do I convince abuelita that this is what’s right for me? How do I get her to trust me again?” He let out a heavy sign and slunk down onto the floor. “I wish you were still here.”

He let his forehead thunk against the dresser and felt something hit him on the top of his head. When he looked up, he found Mama Coco’s gift laying beside him on the floor. Maybe she is still here, he thought as he reached for the gift. Maybe she wants to tell me something.

He carefully undid the yellow ribbon and unwrapped the paper, making sure not to tear it. Pulling the paper away revealed a very old book. It was bound in brown leather. The pages grown yellow and brittle with age. He opened the cover. The first page contained a happy birthday message from Tio Oscar and Tio Filipe, Mama Coco’s uncles. Very small, on the bottom of the page, they wrote, “Our little secret. Don’t tell your Mama.” Was it a journal? A secret journal not even Mama Imelda knew about?

He opened to the first page, dated 1932. Reading on confirmed his suspicions. She wrote about her uncles giving her the journal in secret and in a typical teenage rambling, she went on about wishing her Mama gave her more freedom and privacy. She only wanted something all to herself, away from the prying eyes of her mother. She loved things she knew her mother would never approve of: music, and dancing, and her father.

The following pages were like stepping into a time machine and watching Mama Coco’s younger days play out. She wrote almost every day. She wrote about her friends, and wishing she didn’t have to lie to her mother whenever she went to the Plaza with them. She wrote about the sweet boy, Julio, who her friends were sure was taken with her. He shyly gave her a handful of wildflowers one day and she felt embarrassed and flattered and excited all at the same time. She wrote about sneaking out to go dancing with him and the massive fight she had with her mother on the day she got caught.

She also wrote about her father. She could still remember him, though her mother tried hard to make her forget. He used to dance with her, sing to her, and play for her. She could remember him playing a new song he wrote and asking her if she liked it, though she was barely more than a toddler at the time. More than that, she could remember how he used to hug her as tight as he could, how he made her laugh until she squealed, and how much Mama used to smile around him. He promised her he would never leave her for good, and he’d always come back. He loved her so much and she knew it even then, which was why she never believed he meant to disappear. If he didn’t come back, it was because something happened to him.

Once, she wrote about hearing an Ernesto De la Cruz song on the radio with her friends, and not being about to explain her sudden change in mood to them. An idea began to creep in the back of Miguel’s mind. No, it couldn’t be. He read on:

               Gloria was the first to notice I was upset. I told her I was fine. Then Ana Maria and Alicia starting asking what was wrong. I kept saying I was fine but they wouldn’t let it go. Finally I told them I was worried about my Mama finding out I was listening to the radio and they just laughed and dropped it. They all know about her rules, the whole town does. It wasn’t like they’d believe the real reason anyway.

               But I remember Tio Ernesto. He was Papa’s friend. He’d been to our house. He was there as far back as I can remember, at least until Papa disappeared. They’d call me a liar if I told them this, even worse, they’d call me crazy. Saying the biggest star in the world stole my Papa’s songs? Maybe even hurt him? No proof, no evidence, just a feeling? No one would believe me. Not even Mama believes me.

Miguel’s stomach slowly turned as he read this. The pieces came together in his mind. Could Mama Coco’s father, the one who left, be the ghost in the train station? Could he be Hector? No, it was too much of a coincidence. Of all the people in the world… Why can I talk to him, then? And Rosa and Abel? Why can we talk to him when no one else can? This couldn’t just be a coincidence. There had to be more to it.

He flipped through the pages, hoping to find something to confirm his newly-formed theory, when a folded-up piece of paper fell out from between the pages. It was just as old, if not older than the journal. He unfolded it to find a letter written to Coco. It contained lyrics to an Ernesto de la Cruz song, yeas before Ernesto himself sung it. It also had little drawings on the bottom and ended with “Love, Papa.”

His heart beat faster and he searched through the journal. More old letters fell out. Not all of them contained lyrics, but they all expressed his love for his daughter and promised he’d be back soon. The handwriting all matched. If someone were to match the handwriting on the letters to the handwriting in the original song book… All these years, the proof has been sitting in my house, on my dresser. But he didn’t think that was the reason Mama Coco gave him this gift. She didn’t care about her father being famous. She only wanted to share some happy memories, to show someone how she really felt, and maybe she just wanted someone to remember her father the way she remembered him.

We probably all would if it weren’t for Ernesto. If his hunch was correct, and the ghost Hector and his great-great grandfather were one and the same, then Ernesto is responsible for the heartache his family went through for generations. Hector was nothing like the man his family thought he was. He loved his family so much. All he wanted was to provide for them with his music. He tried so hard to go home to them. He was willing to give up fame for them and Ernesto killed him for that.

He turned to the very back of the book and noticed that the lining on the back cover was loose. He peeled back the corner and found a scrap of an old photograph. The untamed head of hair in the photo was strikingly familiar and it caused Miguel to pause. He reached in and slipped the photo out. Hector’s face grinned back at him.

He recognized the shape of the tear immediately. This was the missing piece from the picture of Mama Imelda and young Mama Coco. All these years, the truth about the family secret was right here in his room. Mama Coco’s papa, he hadn’t abandoned them at all. He was coming back. He was always going to come back. And now, his ghost was trapped in a train station, still trying to get home over a century later.

Photograph in hand, Miguel darted out of his room. “Rosa! Abel!”

His cousins met him in the hall.

“What?”

“Why are you yelling?”

“Look! Look at this!” Miguel held the photo out to them.

Rosa adjusted her glasses. “Is that Hector?”

“Where did you get this?” Abel asked.

“It was in Mama Coco’s gift,” Miguel explained. “She wrote a journal when she was a girl and she gave it to me. She wrote about a lot of things, but also about her papa. And there were letters; letters with Ernesto de la Cruz lyrics, dated way before those songs came out.”

“So Hector was the one who abandoned Mama Imelda?” Rosa asked.

“No, don’t you get it? He didn’t abandon them. He was trying to come home, but Ernesto de la Cruz murdered him. If it weren’t for Ernesto…”

That’s right, Ernesto. Ernesto was the one who murdered Hector all those years ago. If it weren’t for Ernesto, the music ban never would have happened. If it weren’t for Ernesto, Mama Coco wouldn’t have grown up without her father. If it weren’t for Ernesto, Hector wouldn’t have spent a hundred years alone.

Miguel’s face hardened. He balled up his fists and he stormed out of the house. His cousins chased after him.

“Miguel, where are you going?” Rosa said, following him out the door.

“The cemetery.”

“Why?” Abel asked. “What are you going to do at a cemetery?”

“I’m going to go yell at a dead guy.”

“What? Ernesto?”

“Yes, Ernesto! He murdered our great-great grandfather!”

“Miguel, come back,” Rosa shouted after him. “You look deranged.”

“I don’t care. He murdered Hector and got away with it. Hell, he profited off of it. It’s about time he faced some consequences.”

“And you think a famous ghost is going to care what some random guy has to say?” Abel put in.

“He might when he finds out I am. Or rather, who my great-great grandfather was.”

His cousins tried to get him to turn back as he marched his way to the cemetery, but they were unable to sway him. He led them all the way to Ernesto’s mausoleum. Momentum carried him lengths ahead of his cousins. By the time they caught up to him, he was already picking the lock.

“Do I want to know why you can pick a lock?” Rosa snapped in a whisper when she came up behind him.

“Relax, it was nothing bad,” Miguel answered. “Remember when Abuelita found my guitar and locked it in the shed until I found someone to sell it to?”

“But you didn’t sell it,” Abel said. “You told me you got a kid at school to pretend to buy it and give it back to you.”

“I did but I still had to practice in the meantime.”

The lock clicked open and Miguel swung the iron doors. He saw the portrait of Ernesto smirking at him from the wall and it sparked his anger again. “Come out you murdering psychopath!” Miguel shouted and he stormed into the mausoleum. “Where are you, you hack?! You song thief?!”

“Shut up,” Rosa snapped in a whisper. “Someone’s gonna call the cops and I don’t think they’ll buy your ‘this dead celebrity killed my ancestor’ excuse.”

“So we’re really doing this huh?” Abel said stepping inside, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. “We’re really provoking the ghost of a murderer?”

“Ha! You hear that!” Miguel whisper-shouted at the portrait. “Your legacy’s already going down. You’re going to be remembered as a fraud and a murderer. Not to mention the world’s worst friend.”

“I don’t think he cares how good a friend he was,” Abel pointed out, “you know, considering the murder and all…”

“Well, he does care about how he’s remembered.” He marched up to the portrait, fire burning in his eyes so hot, it stung even him. “You hear me, you liar! You thief! You murderer!” His voice echoed off the mausoleum walls. “You didn’t just steal a couple songs. You stole Mama Coco’s father from her. You stole a man from his family. You stole the life they could have had together and you let them think he left them on purpose. You killed your best friend and you caused my family pain for generations. It stops here. I am the great great grandson of Hector Rivera and I am proud of it. And I won’t let you steal from my family anymore!”

In response, A weak wind blew, maybe just strong enough to muss up some dust. A stray dog barked in the distance. A car drove down the road. He might have heard a small animal running in the grass outside. That was it.

He was here, his cousins were here, but no one else.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It felt good in the moment. It felt good to get the words out and give Ernesto a long-overdue tirade. But he was still unfulfilled. Ernesto de la Cruz would never hear his words. He would never face justice for his crimes. He was gone, his legacy untouched. Meanwhile, Hector paid for one mistake with his life and a hundred years of loneliness.

“Hey cuz,” Abel said, coming up behind Miguel and putting his hands on his shoulder. “You get that out of your system?”

“He’s not here, Miguel,” Rosa added, her voice much softer now. “Ernesto de la Cruz is long gone. All that’s left of him is a pile of bones in a box.”

“In a big mausoleum,” Miguel spat, breaking away from his cousin. “He’s visited by thousands of people every year. Who even knows where Hector’s body is? It’s not right.”

“No, it’s not,” Rosa agreed. Miguel was surprised by how firm and series her voice suddenly became. “Ernesto de la Cruz murdered our great-great grandfather and never faced a single consequence. Hector died in the street alone while his murderer got to die rich and happy. It’s not right, but it’s the way things are.”

“To be fair, he probably didn’t die too happy,” Abel pointed out, “at least not in the last few seconds…you know…cause of the bell…” Abel used his hands to imitate the falling bell and made a crunching noise with mouth. “Wouldn’t have left a very pretty corpse, come to think of it. Probably looked nothing like that picture up there.”

Rosa looked over at him, eyebrows twisted with annoyance. “Can you stop?”

“It isn’t fair,” Miguel sighed, slumping down against a wall. “Hector’s been alone for so long. We’re his family. We should be able to do something for him.”

His cousins knelt down beside him and Rosa put her arm around his shoulders. Then, soft music disrupted the quiet of the cemetery. Miguel recognized the tune. He looked up at the guitar on the wall. The stings moved and vibrated seemingly all on their own. Without a player, the guitar plucked out a soothing, melodic rendition of Remember me.

“Is it Ernesto?” Abel whispered, staring up at the guitar in awe.

“No.” Miguel stood up and approached the guitar on the wall. It must be his. All these years… “I know this version. That’s not Ernesto. That is Hector.”

“Hector? How?”

“His invisible guitar. It’s not invisible at all.” His smile grew bigger. “It’s right here. He’s been playing this one.”

“So if that’s his guitar, maybe all we have to do is bring it back to him,” Abel suggested, beginning to smile himself. “Then he’ll be able to cross over.”

Rosa rolled her eyes. “Yeah that’s a good idea. Let’s steal the most famous guitar in Mexico and take it to a very public place. I’m sure that’ll work out great.”

Miguel though about it for a moment. It seemed logical. Hector was killed for his music. If they reunited him with his instrument, it could let him cross over to the afterlife. But it still didn’t fit. During all the time Miguel spent with Hector, never once did the ghost lament the loss of his guitar, not even after regaining his memories. This wasn’t part of his unfished business. In truth, Hector only longed for one thing.

“I don’t think that’s right. Hector can already play his guitar any time he wants. He doesn’t need to have it physically with him. Besides, it’s not what he really wants. All he ever wanted was to go home to his family.”

“So, for him to move on, we need to get him home,” Abel said.

“But he can’t leave the train station,” Rosa pointed out. “How are we supposed to get him back to Santa Cecilia?”

“Well, he wants to go home because that’s where his family is. Maybe if we bring family to him…”

“But we’re family,” Rosa said. “If that was true, he should have been able to cross over after meeting us.”

Miguel deflated, hoping leaking out of him. “I don’t know why.” He listened to the music playing from the guitar on the wall. It was home, Hector wasn’t. Hector, who only wanted to see his family again, who was more concerned about Miguel than himself, who didn’t want Miguel to make the same mistake he did… Hector wasn’t just a mysterious ancestor, torn out of his own legacy. He was Miguel’s friend, his family. I will help him. I will find a way to bring him home. “Hector can’t be trapped forever,” he said, his fists curled, resolve renewed. “We must be missing something.”

“Well, we don’t need to figure it out here,” Rosa said, putting her arm around him. “Let’s go home.”

Together, the cousins made their way home. Miguel barely made it in the door before Coco rushed him again.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, slamming her tiny fists on her hips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry, Coco.” He crouched down to her level with an apologetic smile. “We just went for a walk. That’s all.”

“Well, I drew you a picture.” She grabbed his hand and forcefully pulled him to the living room. She grabbed a piece of paper off the table and jammed it in his face.

Miguel took it. It was a drawing of a colorful bird. She must have used every color in the box. I saw a pretty bird today and it made me happy, he remembered. Would it help if I drew it for you? Tears brimmed on his eyes and he scooped Coco into a hug. “I love it, Coco. You were right. It did make me feel better.”

“I knew it would,” she said, hugging him back. “I just wanted you to come back.”

“Aw, Coco, I’ll always come back.” He hugged Coco tighter. Hector was right. He probably promised his Coco the same thing, but there was no guarantee. Miguel was going to be there for Coco as much as he could. He was going to watch her grow up, go to school, do whatever fabulous things she wanted ot do with her life… Hector may have lost the chance to be with his daughter, but Miguel wasn’t going to squander any chances to be with his sister.

If only I could give Hector more time with his Coco, Miguel thought as he cradled his baby sister in his arms. And just like that, he knew what to do. I can’t reunite Hector with his daughter, but maybe I can introduce him to his granddaughter.  

[moonawrites]

how was your Europe trip? Wanna tell us some highlights? Also that review of fc&c you posted are literally my feelings, the whole goddamn thing is honestly perfect and a full on dopamine shot of heaven

First of all, thank you so much!! That means so much to me.

My Europe trip was amaaazing. This was the first time I've ever travelled like this with my friends. We went in a group of 6, which immediately made it so much fun on its own, regardless of where we were or what we did. People plan trips like this for months and ours was so last minute, a lot of it happened on the fly. But it was amazing, 6 girls living and travelling together, waking up and getting ready and going out together every day was so much fun.

We started with 2 days in London which was absolutely not enough, I've wanted to go to London forever. It felt surreal to see things I wrote about in person! This was probably our hardest city just because it was the first one and it rained constantly while we were there which was a bummer, but we had so much fun. Almost got hit by a car multiple times, the drivers in London are aggressive LOL. I think of all the places I went, this is the city I'd go back to first because I feel like I missed out on a lot here and I have so much left to see. I love really fast paced, busy places like London and New York but I think London is much prettier than New York. I really loved it.

Then we did 3 days in Paris. This was my absolute favourite stop on the trip, I almost wish we did it last so we could have ended with what was the highlight for me. The people in Paris were immediately so friendly. Maybe it was because we were a group of 6 girls and we were just constantly so happy that we put people around us in a good mood, but everyone was just so nice. We did some toursity things like going up the Eiffel Tower, but we also spent a lot of time exploring local areas and just talking to people. I'm trying to learn French so attempting to communicate in Paris was so much fun and I feel like everyone really appreciated that we tried to speak the language with them. Also people kept calling me beautiful LOOL so that was nice. But it's true that people there are a lot more open about like admiring you and making compliments than in North America, it was strange. Sometimes it was a fine line between funny and creepy, I don't know how much of that was normal lol. It was just a gorgeous place with really amazing people and such a lively but somehow relaxed vibe.

The rest of our trip was Italy. We flew from Paris to Milan (for $48???? we had Uber rides more expensive than that, Europe is wild). We didn't spend time in Milan, just stopped over to see the Duomo, which was worth it because it's spectacular and pictures really don't do the architecture and art in these places justice. Then we took a train to Verona and spent the afternoon and the night there. That was a perfect stop, it's very small so a half day was enough. It's a lot less toursity so we got a bit of a more local, quiet experience there, it was so nice.

Then we did a day in Venice. I think a full day in Venice is enough to just see the place, it's small so you can walk the whole island in a day. But an extra day there would have been nice to really experience the vibe, plus we lost some time because of train issues too so I didn't get to go to Murano or Burano like I wanted, which was disappointing. Venice is beautiful and such a feat of both natural beauty AND human ingenuity, it's really incredible. But it's also super crowded with tourists, even in October. It's literally more tourists than locals at any given moment. Also there's no wheels on the island at all! Not even bikes! That was cool. We met this cute guy at a restaurant and on a whim I gave him my number for fun (we literally had 1 day in his city what was the point) but then he kept texting me the entire time we were in Italy, which was hilarious to my friends.

After Venice, we had 3 days in Florence. Florence is so chill and fun. There's so much beautiful art and architecture here, so much history. It felt surreal being there. Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci's hood!! My friends aren't all that into art and on a trip with a group of 6 museums aren't the best use of time anyways but we still went to the Uffizi which was amazing, I saw so much incredible art in person. We also did a day trip to Pisa to see the leaning tower, it's a cute little place too and that tower is hella crooked. I'm a civil/structural engineer so I was like !!! ??? and I find it hilarious and so very Italian that after constructing two levels, one half of this building started to sink into the ground and they just... kept building? They were like eh, if it falls it falls??? Florence is really small so I think 2 days there would have been enough even with the Pisa trip. Our third day was just relaxed exploring and chilling in the city which was nice, but if we'd planned for it better, I would have liked to use that day to explore the Tuscan country side (which is what I reccomend anyone do with a third day in Florence). Or we could have added that day to London. But it was a gorgeous and charming city and I'm happy we got to experience a full relaxed day there.

Our last stop was Rome. We did 4 days there, which was good because at this point we were honestly so worn out that trying to see everything quickly and move to another place would have made me cry. We originally planned to do a night in Sorrento to see the Amalfi Coast and that would have been nice, but I'm glad we didn't. We had such a fun time in Rome. It had all the incredible art and architecture and obviously SO much history, which I LOVED, but where I found Florence a bit too small and relaxed for me (in terms of like, if I'd live there) Rome had a lot more of the big city feel, obviously since it is a big city. I think I'd love living there, it's such a perfect mix of everything I love. There's such a cool mix of old and new there. There's SO much to see in Rome, it's impossible to see it all in a few days. So we decided on a few key places to see and spent the rest of our time just exploring and taking in the vibe (that was the theme of our trip lol) and it was just. So beautiful and so much fun. The Colosseum, Roman Forum and Palatine Hill was my favourite "tourist" destination on the whole trip, it was incredible. We went into random churches and every single one is just so gorgeous, and we heard that some of them have altars and artwork by people like Michelangelo and Caravaggio, so you can accidentally stumble upon their work, which is wild and amazing. From Rome we took a day trip to Capri, which was amazing. It was sooo beautiful. A half day there was obviously not enough to fully experience the island, but it was a gorgeous place to see and somewhere I plan to return to in the future.

So yeah!! That was my trip. It was incredible, enriching, fulfilling, surreal, etc. etc. I saw and experienced so much. Thanks for letting me ramble about it!

[inmusicalseveryoneisscreaming]

Pride Eyes- Newsbians Oneshot

Hello, new oneshot story!! The idea was given to me by my friend @wingedprunepsychiclawyer go give her support! original post- https://wingedprunepsychiclawyer.tumblr.com/post/188919068353/sosuperawesome-pride-eyes-by-aaron-storms-on -- Sarah loved Pride, it was the one day a year she felt completely comfortable draped in colors of oranges and pinks. Which is why, when she saw a picture called ‘Pride Eyes’, she printed it and sprinted to the local makeup place. The place was rugged and stanched of makeup fumes. Sarah wrinkled her nose up, walking up to the check in. There stood an older man, who offered a small smile.

“Hello, miss.” With a smile, the man peered at Sarah intently. “I'm Mr. Snyder. What can we do for you?” Sarah held up the folded paper in her jacket pocket, pointing to the lesbian eye makeup. Sarah thought it looked gorgeous, and although she'd never do it justice, she still wanted it done. “Oh, you're a lesbian…” He trailed off, grumbling something. “This was done by one of our workers, Katherine. You can see anyone but her.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. Why couldn't she go to the original creator of the wonderful makeup?

“I'd like to see Katherine-.”

“You don’ want her. She's a full on player, she's kissed every girl I've employed against their wishes.” The voice the man is using is barely above a whisper, it made Sarah shiver.

“I see Snyder is making up rumors about me, again? And so early, too, hm?” Sarah’s head snapped towards a figure leaning against the doorway, probably into where all the magic of makeovers happened. Her curled hair was pulled into a side braid that fell over her shoulder, the auburn color matching the freckles that were splotched across her cheeks and nose. The girl also had the nicest, golden brown eyes, turning as gold as the sun when the cheap light fixtures caught them. It might also have to do part with the thin black glasses slipping down her nose. Sarah thought she was cute, but she'd keep such sentiments to herself.

“Miss Pulitzer, I need you to go back into the workroom.” Snyder coldly replied to the girl. The worker- Katherine, she assumed -stood her ground, her gaze turning dark.

“I've gotten not a single patron in a week, Snyder. You can't be telling me that's a coincidence while Sally and Kayla, straight girls, are getting at least five patrons a day.” Sarah glanced between the girl and the man, something was going on here. Something she didn't like much. This man wouldn't let the most likely gay girl have customers.

“Fine.” Snyder hissed out. “You lesbos stick together. See if I care. But, this talking back is coming outta your paycheck, Pulitzer. Consider yourself without any pay at all this week.” Snyder growled, almost as if he were reprimanding her. Katherine gulped before sighing, hurriedly averting her gaze to the ground.

“Y-yes, sir.” She mumbled, looking up slightly so she could meet Sarah’s eyes. “Come with me, miss...?”

“Jacobs.” Sarah filled in. “Sarah Jacobs.” The corner of Sarah’s mouth quirked up, putting the dimple on the right side of her face on show.

“Alright, come with me, Miss Sarah Jacobs.” Katherine smiled, starting to lead Sarah. Her mind was reeling, it had been so long since she’d gotten an employee. This girl was beautiful. Her dirty blonde locks framed her face perfectly, making her look like a piece of artwork that deserved to be in a museum. Everything about the girl was perfect. Katherine especially loved her large brown eyes, making her happy and welcomed by someone. She soon started settling Sarah into the chair. “What do you want?”

“This.” Sarah pointed at the lesbian eye makeup picture again. Katherine’s eyes opened wide, as she bumped her glasses back up her nose.

“You… Are you sure you want that? I did it in my free time, I was just trying to show every sexuality and romantic orientation and gender is valid…” Katherine rambled a bit, messing with her hands. Sarah smiled to herself, God, Katherine was cute.

“I do, for Pride.” Sarah confirmed with a curt nod. Katherine quickly grabbed what she needed, and started her work.

“Y’know you're, like, super pretty. I’m surprised the other lesbian ladies aren't lining up to get a smooch from you. Heck, I'm surprised no one’s swept you off to a church to get married to you.” Katherine tried flirting, she really did, though it only turned out awkward.

She can't just let a pretty girl slip between her fingers, not again.

Sarah felt a blush creeping up her neck slowly, making her face turn a soft pink. She never blushed at flirting, not from anyone. But somehow this auburn haired beauty changed that. Her comments seemed sincere, her comments seemed meaningful. Not thin and meaningless like some of the other girls she'd tried out.

Katherine smiled, Sarah looked so cute when she blushed. Her eyes just looked clouded by surprise and embarrassment, her mouth hung a bit open and of course the blush made her a sweet shade of pink. “You good there?” Katherine asked, continuing her work.

“Oh, yep, I'm fine.” Sarah nodded, just slightly, not wanting to mess Katherine up. Katherine smiled again, causing Sarah to fall into a whole different whirlwind. Katherine’s smile was so cute, so unimaginably adorable, Sarah wanted to connect their lips so badly. She wanted to drag the girl closer by her waist, wanting to feel the feeling of them being chest to chest, wanting the feeling of lips moving in sync because of pure love.

Katherine nodded, finishing up the eye makeup. Sarah blinked a few times as Katherine swerved her to face the mirror. Sarah’s mouth hung open. The makeup work was just as beautiful as the girl who had applied it to her eyes.

“You like it?” Katherine asked with a shy smile. Sarah nodded, standing up and digging into her purse.

“I like it a lot.” Sarah nodded, pulling out a crumpled fifty dollar bill. She held it out, the bill curling up in the palm of her hand. “Take it.” She whispered to the girl quietly. Katherine felt a blush flood to her cheeks and ears, even spreading to her nose. Sarah smiled wide, Katherine was the most adorable thing when she was blushing.

“I couldn't-.”

“Please?” She held the money out more. Katherine gave in, snatching the money, smiling.

“Thank you.” Katherine whispered. Sarah nodded with a wink, walking out to pay the man at the front.

Both girls were left wondering if they'd ever see each other again. --- Katherine was permitted to leave three hours early for Pride, they wouldn't miss her at all. She had gone home to get herself spruced up in lesbian pride wear, doing the makeup she'd done on Sarah only an hour or so earlier on herself. She walked through the crowd, greeting friends she knew. Buttons and Joey, Sniper and Smalls, Rafaela and JoJo. It's then a specific face stands out.

Katherine's jaw went slack. There stood Sarah, still in the eye makeup, but she'd changed. She wore a long pink dress, that honestly (in Katherine’s humble opinion) accented her features perfectly. A pride flag wrapped around her shoulders, she gave Katherine a small smile.

“Hey…” Katherine felt her breath abandoning her. Sarah just smiled at her, her eyes being even more welcoming than before.

“Hey…” Katherine attempted a smile back, but it came out more of a wince. Sarah snorted, moving closer to Katherine to talk better without the hustle and bustle muting them.

They talk, they flirt, they obtain each other’s numbers, they have a good time. And then…

“Kath?” Sarah asked, looking at the girl with a soft smile.

“Hm?” Katherine hummed, glancing up at the taller girl. Sarah couldn't stop smiling. Practically everything that Katherine did was adorable.

“Wanna, like, go out? Y’know, coffee? Tomorrow?” Katherine felt a blush cross her face, giggling awkwardly.

“S-sure! Yes! Coffee sounds… Good. The little coffee shop by my makeup shop? Tomorrow?” Sarah smiled at the other girl’s stumbling, giving her a small nod.

“It's a date.” Sarah confirmed, kissing the girl’s cheek. She laced her arm with Katherine’s own, smiling fondly at her.

They walked through Pride with confidence Katherine never thought she'd possess. And anytime anyone mistook them for a couple, there would only be a smile, and a small whisper of a ‘yes’.

[senoritaimperfecta]

Here’s the lesbian DaVinci Fic that I based off of my own personal headcanon also I’m dying

Three pair of eyes. Destiny, Dallas, and Dejavú all waited patiently for DaVinci to speak. The night had gone well so far. All four of the siblings sat together enjoying each other’s company but now there was only dead silence. When Dallas asked DaVinci what they wanted to talk about, all they could feel was embarrassment. They didn’t understand why since they knew fully well that the triplets would understand better than anyone else in their family. They told themself that they would have to ask the triple D for advice or else they wouldn’t have the guts to ask them about it any other day.

“Oh right, that. Well you see…” DaVinci finally had the courage to say something, though their body language showed anything but confidence. The older sibling usually held their head up high and with pride. So seeing DaVinci avoid eye contact as they sunk further down into their pillow was something you didn’t see often. The Triple D could only look at each other and assume the worst. After the three exchanged a few worried glances they focused their attention back to DaVinci.

“Come on, DaVinci! It can’t be that bad, can it?” Dejavú said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. However all this accomplished was making DaVinci look more nervous than they already were.

“No! It’s not bad at all! At least I don’t think it is, it’s just hard to say out loud. That’s all.” DaVinci said as they nervously shook their head.

“Oh, you know she was only playing DaVinci!” Dallas spoke up. “You can tell us anything, we won’t judge!”

“You it’ll be a secret between all of us, mom & dad don’t even have to know!” Destiny chimed in.

“a secret? What- No! Why wouldn’t I want mom and dad to know? Actually, I want all of the family to know. It’s just- gah!” DaVinci let out a frustrated scream as they dragged their paws down their face. “It was so hard for me to admit it to myself but I didn’t think it would be this hard to say it out loud!” Dallas placed a paw on DaVinci’s back which caused them to stop their rambling and look up at their sisters. Each one of them had a comforting smile resting upon their faces.

“Hey, it's okay. Just take all the time you need, there’s no rush.” Destiny and Dejavú nodded in response to what Dallas said. True to her word, none of the three pressed the matter on more. DaVinci felt themself begin to relax as they sat up on their pillow.

“I was talking with DJ earlier. He kinda, I don't know, said something to me and it got me thinking? I know it was probably supposed to be a joke but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” DaVinci trailed off, starting to avoid eye contact once again.

“Well, what’d he say?” Dallas asked, urging DaVinci to say more.

“He was watching me work on some of my artwork, right? And he said, ‘you must really love and be dedicated to your art, huh?’ And I am! So I told him, ‘of course I am! I paint what makes me happy!’” DaVinci pressed her paws to her cheeks clearly embarrassed. “So then he joked and said, ‘You must really love girls then.’ And I didn’t know what to say in that moment! I just laughed and didn’t say anything else but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The more I thought about what he said, the more it made sense!” DaVinci threw her paws up in the air to emphasize her point.

“I’ve never really cared for guys, at all. A lot of the time I found myself being annoyed by them! But I always thought that it was because I never met a guy I could get along with. Guys just always seemed to get on my nerves. Then girls always seemed to make me feel flustered and get my attention so easily ...” DaVinci said as an awkward but genuine smile found its way onto their face. However it didn’t last long and they shook their head as if to snap out of it. “Look what I’m trying to say is that I think I’m….I think I like girls.”

For a moment all three of the triplets just sat in place processing the information that was just thrown on them. Then after what felt like an eternity to DaVinci, all three of the triplets threw themselves at DaVinci. Each of them holding the older pup in a tight embrace, tails wagging in excitement.

“Oh my dog! DaVinci that’s great!”

“Wait-“

“Do you have a crush on someone? Is it a girl we know?”

“Triple D-“

“Oh, we have to know all about her-“

“Guys!” DaVinci raised their voice which caused their three younger sisters to let go of them immediately. All three of them worried that they had done something to upset DaVinci. Especially since the older sibling wasn’t the type of dog to get frustrated or angry very easily.

DaVinci looked at their sister expressions and sighed, a guilty look making its way into their face. “Look, I’m really happy you’re all so supportive but…”

“But what?”

“You know how you’re all...how you all like girls?”

“Well, duh!” Destiny brought a paw up to her cheek and sent DaVinci a bright smile. “We, like, talk about it all the time!”

“I need to know how you do it.” DaVinci said in a desperate tone, studding leaning over her younger sister. Destiny pushed DaVinci back, patting her siblings arm as she did so.

“Woah there, DaVinci. I’m getting a feeling that there’s more to this then you’re letting on.” Destiny asked while she gave their older sibling a concerned look. Dallas and Dejavú nodded in agreement.

“Honestly? I just...don’t even know how to react to all this. It’s something I never even thought about before! Now it’s all I can think about.” DaVinci cowered into the security of their pillow, covering their face with both of their paws. “I know I can be happy. I know that because you guys are able to be so proud and confident in yourselves. I just wish I could be like that, I’m just not entirely sure how I can get there. Especially when it feels like my whole world is changing because of this. On one hand I’m glad I under more about myself then I did before. But at the same time I wish I never gave what Dj said much thought because this just all feels so sudden…” DaVinci rambled off, not having the voice to continue on anymore.

“Oh, DaVinci.” Dallas brought their older sibling into another tight embrace. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.”

“But listen closely to what we’re going to tell you DaVinci.” Once Dallas let go, Dejavú brought her paws up to DaVinci’s face to make sure they were looking at her. “Your world is changing but that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, Dejavú has a point! Every single day the world around us changes, even if it’s just a little. Change is just a natural part of life, it definitely isn’t anything you have to be afraid of.” Dallas added on.

“But I know things like this can be hard to get used to and accept but just know that we got you got your back. We’ll always be here if you wanna talk about it” Destiny gave DaVinci a playful punch on the shoulder, which received a quiet laugh from DaVinci.

“When did you guys get so smart? I’m your older sibling, I should be the one giving you advice,” DaVinci sniffled. They then pulled the triple D into a hug, one that the triplets immediately returned.

“We’re just amazing little sisters like that I guess.”

“Yeah, not everybody can be us, you’re lucky DaVinci.”

“I really am. I couldn’t have asked for better sisters.”

“Okay. I hate to stop this nice sisterly bonding moment, but we can’t just ignore the fact that Dj obviously knew DaVinci was a lesbian before they did.”

“Oh my dog you’re right- hey! you three stop laughing this is serious.” 

______________________________________________________________

“Hey Dj, can we talk for a moment?” DaVinci said as they sat down right in front of the younger pup.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Dj put down the violin, the latest instrument that the musically inclined pup was dedicated to learn. He recently started learning to play the instrument and had been practicing nonstop. “But totally we can talk about whatever.”

“I wanted to talk about what you said the other day. You know back when we were hanging out-“ DaVinci started before they were cut off by the sound of laughter.

“Oh my dog, are you still thinking about that?” Dj said with an amused look on his face.

“Yes! When my own brother implies that I like girls I happen to think about it a lot, actually.” DaVinci said with a frown, crossing their arms. “I just wanted to know what gave you that idea in the first place.”

“The way you talked about girls was a dead giveaway.” DJ smirked which just caused DaVinci to stick her tongue out at him. “But really I just felt like maybe teasing you about it would help you realize it sooner. And You should thank me, I saved you from whatever dramatic thing Dante had planned. Plus I wanted to win the five bucks.”

“Wait, so you knew I was a lesbian?”

“I think Dante and I were the only ones who knew, maybe Mum too. We just hang around you the most.” Dj shrugged.

“Okay fair enough.” DaVinci chuckled and gave their brother a playful punch on the shoulder.

[heartlessfujoshi]

author illistrator solidarity post is one of the reason why I hate commenting on fics. Cause sometimes I dont know what to say other than. It was good, or what I thought would be nice. And 98% of the time, I get no reply, But I'm expected to comment 100%. And it takes a while just to write the basic "it's good" at times. But then someone draws and they get 690 praises and 1100 notes. And it's like. Wow Ok. Sorry I cant express myself through words or art. It makes things complicated. Rant over

Hey Anon - 

Thanks for sending this in. More below the cut because I tend to ramble a bit, and I wanted to comment on a few points you’ve made. Please keep in my that these are my opinions, and mine alone. I can’t speak for the rest of the world. 

I totally get this, especially because I’m a writer myself. It can really attack your self-esteem when you see copious amounts of notes going to artists while writers - for the most part - get the short end of the stick. I’m not belittling artists by saying this, and I’m not belittling writers either. I think because with artwork, it’s instant gratification that you get to see something right away, whereas with fics - it may take a bit to get that same gratification. Yes, sometimes it skews the other way, but I’d wager that it’s generally 80-20 in favor of fanart versus fanfic. 

AND THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. Because we’re all putting our time and effort into our own ‘art’. 

As for commenting - if the author doesn’t reply, please don’t take it personally. Maybe they are also in the same boat. They don’t know what to say, and may feel lame themselves just saying “Thanks!” as a reply. I can guarantee that they love receiving any sort of comment, even if it’s just an emoticon. You are never expected to leave a comment. If it didn’t tickle your fancy, well - that’s okay. You read it, you gave the author ‘a hit’ and then you both move on with your lives. 

Speaking from experience, I tend to not reply to reviews on fics that are years old, when I know I should. I feel like an idiot, because I haven’t commented on previous reviews, and then the guilt is there just going “Just comment on them all!” Do you see my problem? I’m grateful for every single review I receive, because like you said - why comment? I know that the reader doesn’t have to leave a review, so the fact that they’re doing so is amazing to me. I know that the effort is there, and I appreciate it, even though I forget/neglect to reply. I wish that there was a way authors could give kudos to reviewers, so that they know the author has seen it and appreciates it, even without a reply. 

You do you. Don’t worry about “expressing” yourself through art and the like. It’s okay. You are still awesome, and you are part of the fandom as a whole. What’s wrong with that? :) 

Wow, this got long. TL;DR - Everyone is awesome. Fuck notes/likes/reblogs/kudos/etc. We’re all in this together, so let’s enjoy it while we can. 

(◕ᴗ◕✿)

[trickstercheebs]

The Devils first Sin

more stuff pertaining to @shinyzango‘s 2D Bendy AU after seein some more lovely artwork about consequences to fun powers :V might be a two parter~

and shush i know the titles sounds dubious, im gonna keep the devil pun thing up until it kills me.

After figuring out that his new little ability gave him a lot more chances to help Henry past being a guide on paper, Bendy seemed excited to see what lay in wait in the studio halls for them both. Henry however had some reserves...He still had no idea..how his excited friend’s powers worked..or how he even was alive to begin with. Several theories ran through his mind, bouncing off one another..Black magic seemed to be more favorable..Joey was always a showy sort of person who’d do anything to get what he wanted..But black magic seemed a bit too far even for him..at least that’s what he kept telling himself anyways.

Wandering onwards, Henry idly chatted with Bendy about old times..old cartoons and safer times in the studio. Bendy seemed more than happy to listen to Henry quietly ramble on about his old days as a animator, Henry not minding the trip down memory lane in favor of wondering what the road ahead may hide..

“ So that was how the studios got started..Joey was one heck of a negotiator, which probably got us such a good start..Compared to our first studio this place is the ritz..Heh..well without the random rogue ink creatures anyways.”

“WOW~! I never knew how it all started..It sounded like a bunch of fun Henry really..and without you guys going through all that..I wouldn’t ever be here talking with you and going on this adventure!”

Henry couldn’t help but let out a laugh...yeah this was a adventure alright..Getting trapped in his old studio and chased by sentient ink stains all night..with only a small doodle to keep him company and out of the fire..Honestly he was starting to really care for the goofy little devil, currently sitting on the papers single line staring up at him like some star struck child..Well he couldn’t blame him, it’s not every day you hear how your own existence sort of got started..

And hopefully said adventure would have a happy ending for the both of them..He had already had a few close calls but, at least with Bendy now being able to lend a hand things seemed a bit more brighter. He’d have to figure out a way to possibly bring the little Devil with him..no sense in just leaving him here when all was said and done, that was too cruel of a thought to even consider..Bendy was if not the only person here so far that hadn’t tried to take a chunk out of him, he owed the little ink spot twice already.

“ Yeah... it’s been quite the adventure huh? Glad I got you to back me up at least and help keep me from looking like some giant walking ink stain.”

“Hey! Being a big ink stain isn’t that bad, I think I do a good job of it Henry..Hehehehh~ And don’t worry yourself so much, long as you got me I’ll protect ya from all the spooks big guy!”

Henry watched as the little Devil got up to strike a heroic pose as he spoke..well he was right on some parts..When he wanted to, Bendy could be quite the big ink stain...thankfully a friendly ink stain. He didn’t like having to put the little guy through such a strange process..But Bendy seemed more than capable of handling the load...right?

The duo continued to chat away as Henry picked his way through the dark halls, side stepping the occasional ink puddle and broken floor board with ease. It almost felt like things would improve from here actually, Henry thought right as there came a creaking noise above him..Stopping and eyeing the ceiling warily he noticed several things..There were alot more drips than usual..and the ceiling was taking on a rather..bulging look.

Not bothering to explain he tried to get out of dodge and fast, unfortunately the studio as big as it had become, was about as structurally sound as a house made of cardboard and glue. The low groaning picked back up again, echoing down the hall seconds before a massive fissure gave way, unleashing a massive torrent of ink and lord knows what else to flood eagerly into the floor below and sweep away anything caught in it’s path..namely Henry. Said animator was only a few steps away, trying to find some high ground or a unlocked door..only finding nothing. Seconds before the waves would overtake him he presses the doodle to his chest and prayed he wasn’t about to die by drowning in ink of all things.

“Hang on Bendy I think we’re in for some rough going.”

“Be careful Henry!”

He let out a pained grunt as the first wave slapped into him, curling around and sweeping his footing out from under him. As he was swept away he was dimly aware of other things lurking in the surf with him, brushes of hands against legs and arms told him that he’d have problems soon if he didn’t get to some dry ground, or find another damned pump. Fighting to get back to the surface he managed to get a idea of how bad the situation was..Thankfully the ink had slowed it’s deluge..but now the entire area was nearly waist deep in ink. Coughing as some of the black nonsense got in his mouth, he realized he was once again soaked with the stuff and sighed before slowly wading onwards. Fishing the paper out of its hiding place he frowned seeing it soaked..better to check on the little guy..

“Bendy you alright? This ink isn’t going to be a problem for you is it? We might be stuck like this until I can find a pump station or something....”

Unfortunately what replied wasn’t Bendy..but a low gurgling growl nearby..Oh great, they spotted him already. Hoping Bendy would be alright being drenched a bit longer Henry lifted his axe and got to work thinning the hordes before they got too close to do damage. Trying to move onward and defend himself at the same time was going to prove treacherous. His quiet companion however had decided to lend a hand, the ink soaked paper shook a bit in Henry’s grip, as if the little Devil was asking to be let loose. After the last two times he didn’t see a reason to deny the assistance and let the paper fly free into the ink below.

It was still a bit..startling to see that massive form erupt from something like a piece of paper, Henry would never get over the idea. But he’d certainly welcome the assistance Bendys..monstrous form gave. After all it was still that goofy lil doodle in there, point proven as a massive inky hand patted Henry’s head before Bendy waded into the midst of the strange forms and began bashing away. With his back covered, Henry could now focus on clearing out a path for them both to better grounds.

How much time had passed was uncertain but, judging by the ache starting to set in from swinging his axe about it was a good chunk of time by any standard. But now at least they could proceed without interruptions, turning around he spied Bendy’s massive back still turned to him as the sounds of something being struck reached his ears. Wading a bit closer he tried to reach out for his companion.

“Bendy, I cleared us a way through, c’mon lets get goin- Whoa!”

Henry ducked out of the way as a arm swung out at him haphazardly, just missing his head by a few scant inches. Backing up some he looked up at the other questioningly.

“Watch it there lil guy you almost knocked me for a loop moving like that..c’mon stop horsing around....”

Something wasn’t right..Looking at the other carefully he saw something that made his blood run cold..That usual little twinkle of mischief..of understanding was gone from the others eye. Bendy let out a hoarse growl before trying to make a grab for Henry, proving his fears right. What had happened, he was always able to handle that form before right? He needed to get some space between the two of them..maybe even get him out of the ink. Backing away towards the path he had cleared, he dodged every swipe and punch thrown his way.

“Bendy snap out of it! What’s wrong with you? Did something happen, talk to me, it’s Henry remember?”

Bendy didn’t seem to hear, or to care really who he was now trying to rip apart. The only thing keeping Henry from finding out how hard the Devil could swing was the scant few inches between them. He could feel the ink beginning to recede at last, there were some stairs further up ahead he remembered seeing..if he can get up them he might be able to get to safety and hopefully to a safe spot.

As it turned out, Henry met the stairs a lot sooner than he anticipated, the back of one leg catching a edge and throwing him off balance for a few brief seconds. It was all the monstrous devil needed to catch his elusive prey with a open hand and slam his once friend into the wall beside them, pinning him flush against the old wood with a gasp. Bendys one hand covered most of Henrys torso, effectively keeping him pinned with surprising ease. He couldn’t help but try to struggle free in vain, letting out a soft wheeze of pain as Bendy pressed into him slowly. He could feel his ribs slowly being pushed inwards with every passing second, trying to keep himself grounded he gulped down as much air as he could to try and get through to his now attacker.

“B-Bendy..what’s wrong..? T-this isn’t like you, please Bendy..d..don’t do this.”

He had honestly hoped his words would get through to them, but this wasn’t some cheesy cartoon with happy endings..The dark reality that he might actually die here was setting in at last, he knew it wasn’t Bendy’s fault..Something told him that little Devil wouldn’t hurt him willingly..something about the ink must be the reason..He just wished he knew before this happened. Letting out a harsher keen of agony he weakly grabbed at the hand holding him hostage.

“Ghk...A-alright..guess my..a-adventure here is over huh? Sorry I couldn’t..save you..”

The hulking demon seemed to shift some at that, tossing Henry once more onto dry land and lumbering up to pin him down once more as their remaining free hand took on a sharper edge to finish the job...Henry seeing that his words would have no effect simply closed his eyes and waited for the end to come swiftly. 

“..I forgive you Bendy...it’s gonna be alright..”

If he was about to face his final curtain at the hands of his only friend here..he’d at least go out saying he didn’t hold them responsible for their actions..A sharp pain bit into his cheek...but nothing else came. Cracking open a eye after a few seconds..he saw a change had over taken the Devil standing over him..The almost manic grin had dropped into a distressed grimace as chunks of ink began rapidly breaking off of the others body..Henry felt the pressure on his chest lighten up immediately, with Bendy backing away from him as if touching the man burned him now..

Sitting up he touched his cheek lightly..finding a light cut just across his cheek had begun to bleed...Looking back up he saw that Bendy had collapsed in on himself, the hulking mass of ink breaking apart in heaving shudders..it almost looked like the little Devil was..crying?

“....Bendy? ...Bendy are you ok? Talk to me here..it’s just me, it’s Henry...”

Risking himself he scooted closer toward the shuddering form as it grew smaller and smaller, he could make out the soft choked sobs coming from the other as he reverted back to his original form at last. Henry waited a moment or two before scooping the nearly ruined piece of paper into his hands.. He could just barely make out a small form balled up in the corner shaking softly..Frowning to himself he didn’t say anything for the moment and let the poor doodle be alone to collect himself..

Getting back up to his feet once more, Henry resumed his now quiet venture into the unknown.

[cherieofthedragons]

In Which Blackwall Somehow Manages Not to Kill His Coworkers

A Knight Shop AU fic

So yes, the Knight Shop AU. Which involves so many people that I’m afraid I’m going to forget some. @trulycertain, @aphreal42, @sarcasmfish, @celeritassagittae, Tru’s mum, um... tell me who else and I’ll add them. It’s brilliant and so much fun.

It’s a modern-ish AU, basically Thedas/modern England, in which there exists a shop where one can hire knights. A knight shop. Hence the name. Typically, knights are hired to do odd jobs, attend social events, act as bodyguards, etc. etc. And many of our favorite Dragon Age characters are knights-for-hire.

The first chapter of Blackwall/Mirevas ridiculousness is here. Huge thanks to Tru and Aphreal for use of their characters and contributions to the writing.

“She’s absolutely brilliant, you know.”

Blackwall sighed and set down his magazine, bracing himself for more lovesick rambling about the accomplished young lady Alistair refused to admit he had fallen for. Blackwall should have known he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on transmission schematics when Alistair was on duty with him.

“I’ve never seen anyone who fights like her.” Alistair’s voice was dreamy as he scribbled in the margins of the ledger. Josephine was not going to be happy when she saw he’d doodled in her official paperwork. Again. “She spent all of yesterday teaching me all of the moves from the guy who beat her last time, so that if I learn to fence like him, she can practice against me-as-him and beat him next season. She’ll probably win the whole thing then. I told you she placed third this year, right?”

“Once or twice,” Blackwall said drily. In point of fact, Alistair  couldn’t seem to shut up about it. Every time he was in a room with Blackwall, he found something new about his lady to rave about. And the tournament had been nearly a month ago.

At first, Blackwall was genuinely impressed. In his time in competitive fencing, he’d seen a handful of women qualify to compete in men’s tournaments, but he’d never heard of one placing so highly. Alistair’s lady was clearly a skilled fencer, and the boy had every right to be proud of her.

But being proud was one thing. Sharing the depth of his pride with every person he could corner into listening was another. Blackwall had retired from fencing nearly a decade ago, and for good reasons. He simply couldn’t maintain the obsessive level of interest in fencing he’d had when he was younger. And no one could maintain Alistair’s level of obsessive interest in this particular fencer.

Alistair prattled on, oblivious to the ever-increasing exasperation of his one-man audience. “I was able to copy the bloke’s remise pretty easily, once she showed me all the steps he’d used. Don’t ask how she remembered them all, by the way, because I have no idea how she can perfectly copy a set of attacks made against her one time weeks ago. I mentioned she’s amazing, didn’t I?”

“Once or twice,” Blackwall said again. As far as he could tell, it was Alistair’s favorite adjective when it came to his lady.

“The passata sotto took longer to get right.” Alistair winced, and Blackwall smirked into his beard at that typical novice reaction to a move that relied on a controlled crouch. “A lot longer. My legs are going to be sore for a week, at least. But she’s such a patient teacher, and I eventually got it, and then…”

The recitation was cut off by the shrill ring of the shop phone.

“Thank the Maker…” Blackwall moved to answer it, eager to hear any other conversation at this point, even if it was someone calling to complain. Or the persistent woman who kept insisting they stage some sort of joust for her son’s birthday party and refusing to accept it was not possible. Where would they even get and train the horses for that, much less transport them across town?

But Alistair was closer, and he grabbed the phone before Blackwall could get to it. “Knight Shop, how can we help?”

He paused, listening, then glanced at Blackwall. “Sure, let me just take a look at the rota.” Quickly, he flipped open the scheduling book. “Ah, sorry--Mirevas, was it? Blackwall is booked on Friday evening. Would you like someone else--”

Blackwall’s heart jumped into his throat. He sprang up from his seat, waving his hands wildly.

Alistair frowned. “Er--hang on a minute.” He pressed the mute button. “What?”

“I want this job,” Blackwall hissed.

The other knight raised an eyebrow. “But you’re already booked. Mrs. Renfrow.”

Blackwall grimaced. Mrs. Renfrow was a seventy-year-old woman who hired one of the knights to move heavy furniture around her house every week -- and then, unfailingly, decided she wanted it back the way it was and snapped at the knight for changing it. She had a nasty temper and a terrible superiority complex, and every single one of them hated working for her.

“Cover for me,” Blackwall begged.

Alistair let out a bark of laughter. “No way. I did it last week. It’s your turn.”

“Please. I’ll take your next turn.”

“Uh-uh. Friday’s my day off, and I have plans.”

Blackwall was getting desperate. “You can have the fee for both jobs.”

Alistair’s eyebrows went up.

Blackwall gritted his teeth. “Please.”

With an immense sigh, Alistair crossed his arms. “You’ll take my next two turns.”

Blackwall bobbed his head in agreement.

“And cover for me on Monday.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And--”

Blackwall growled in frustration. “Alistair.”

Alistair put up his hands in surrender, clearly aware that he’d pushed his luck to the limits. “All right, all right. I’ll do it. My plans are earlier in the day, anyway. Keep the fee for the second job.”

His plans were --

Blackwall glared at Alistair. He didn’t have plans at that time at all. He’d tricked Blackwall into--

Alistair held out the phone quickly. “Er, you’ll take this, then?”

Furious, Blackwall snatched it from his hand, then took a deep, calming breath. He didn’t want to sound angry when he spoke to Mirevas. When his breathing was even, he jabbed a finger at the mute button. “Hello. Mirevas?”

“Blackwall!” The golden tones of Mirevas’s voice were music to his ears. “Hello!”

“Hello.” He’d said that already. “Er--I understand you wish to request my services on Friday evening, my lady?”

“I do, yes. My artwork is being featured in a gallery show, and the opening is on Friday. I thought maybe -- if you were available -- well, I don’t think anyone else there will have a knight on their arm.”

Ah. So it was the novelty of bringing a knight that she wanted, not Blackwall himself. He pushed down his disappointment. It was a job, nothing more. Beautiful young women did not notice middle-aged men like him.

But--she’d asked for him specifically. She could have asked for Gal; she knew him better, after all. That meant--that had to mean--she wanted to see him. Blackwall.

“I would be honored to be on your arm, my lady.”

“Always a gentleman.” He thought he could hear the smile in her voice, and he closed his eyes and imagined it. “The opening begins at six and goes until ten. It’s at The June Gallery. Should we--do you want to meet there? Maybe fifteen minutes early, before the guests start to arrive?”

“Your wish is my command.”

Mirevas chuckled. “Right. Good. I’ll, ah, print the contract from your website, shall I? And...I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I, my lady.”

“Goodbye, then.”

“Farewell.”

The line disconnected. Blackwall opened his eyes and gently set the phone back in its cradle.

“Does she fence?”

Blackwall turned to face Alistair. “What?”

Alistair tilted his head. “The lady. Does she fence?”

“No.” Blackwall didn’t even try to hold back his exasperation.

“And she’s worth two weeks of Mrs. Renfrow? Even though she doesn’t fence?” Alistair’s teasing smirk made Blackwall’s jaw clench, and with his usual instinct for recognizing a line right after he’d crossed it, Alistair quickly changed the subject. “So about the passata sotto…”

Blackwall put his head in his hands.

When he saw Mirevas the next day, he was completely caught off-guard. It was Wednesday; he had two days until the art gallery. Two days to spend every waking hour daydreaming about her, or so it seemed. Somehow, he couldn’t manage to think of anything else. Two days. Just a little over 48 hours, now. And then he’d have four whole hours in her presence.

He sat on a stool behind the shop counter and tried to follow the debate about music, but with little luck. Any other time, he would have had plenty to say about the merits of heavy metal as compared to the traditional jazz Gal’s Tevinter client was raving about. But Erren seemed to have the matter well in hand, and Blackwall knew that if Gal or Cassandra decided to join in, he’d likely approve of what they said.  So Blackwall’s mind kept floating away, going back to--

Mirevas.

Mirevas.

Mirevas was stepping through the door.

For a moment, Blackwall thought he was still imagining her. But no, she was there. In the flesh. Physically standing before him. Her eyes scanned the shop, then focused on him.

Maker’s breath, this was real. He all but lurched off his stool, coming round the counter to greet her.

“Hello, Blackwall.” Mirevas smiled. Maker, he loved the way his name sounded on her lips. The two syllables had never been so beautiful.

“My lady.”

He couldn’t think of what to say next. Her brown eyes blinked as she tilted her head up to look at him, and Blackwall became aware of exactly how huge he was. Andraste’s ass, he had to be a foot taller than her. Suddenly his body seemed to take up entirely too much space.

As Mirevas continued to look up at him, Blackwall realized that he was staring at her silently like an idiot. Quickly, he tried to pull his thoughts together. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, my lady.”

“Oh.” Mirevas looked down at her hand, and he realized she held a folded-up paper. “I thought I should come in and drop off the contract.”

Somewhere in the background, Blackwall dimly registered that music had started coming out of the break room.

“The contract, yes, of course.” Maker’s balls, he was a bloody git. “Thank you.”

Mirevas bit her lip. “I suppose I should have just emailed it to the shop.”

Lyrics began floating out to him. You catch his eye from across the room, you catch his eye…

“Not at all,” Blackwall said. “I’m--I’m very glad to see you, my lady.”

You think, oh my, he’s got quite the beard, oh my…

Blackwall’s head jerked up.

And now you want to but you can’t look away. His beard is black and bushy with a hint of grey…

Horrified, he turned back to see Erren standing next to the break room door looking entirely too casual.

And now you find yourself walking his way...

“Excuse me a moment--”

Without waiting for an answer, Blackwall lurched in the direction of the music, just in time to hear the song continue with the words, Hey hey, you should consider having sex with a bearded man!

Fucking hell, he was going to murder Erren.

You’ve got these feelings that you can’t understand, sex with a bearded man!

He banged through the door and lunged for the music player.

You think you can’t, but you can! Don’t try to fight, just get freaky with a beard tonight!

Desperately, Blackwall jabbed at the stop button, and the music thankfully cut off.

He slumped over in relief, but it was short-lived. Andraste’s fucking tits, how much of that had Mirevas heard?

He growled. Erren was going to regret the day she was born.

With barely controlled rage, Blackwall emerged from the break room, his eyes settling on Erren where she still stood, leaning against the wall. He took a step towards her.

Erren glanced at a non-existent watch on her wrist. “Look at that, it’s time for my break!” she trilled. With that, she darted for the front door and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Blackwall took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Later. He’d deal with her later. Right now he had to face Mirevas again.

Dear Maker, what would she think?

“...and I was thinking about what I could do on my other calf. Something to set off the work you’ve already done. I’m not sure what’d work best. Do you have any ideas?”

That was Gal. Blackwall looked over to see him standing next to Mirevas, who was nodding with interest.

“I could put together some sketches using the themes we’ve been discussing. You’re wanting to complete what you have into more of a coherent whole?”

“Exactly. I’d love to see what you’d come up with.”

Blackwall realized what was happening, and he wanted to kiss Gal. Which was not something he’d ever thought to want. But Gal had saved him. He’d distracted Mirevas with tattoo talk to keep her from noticing that horrible song. A weight lifted from Blackwall’s shoulders. All was not lost.

Gal glanced over at Blackwall. “You have business to take care of?”

“Indeed.” Blackwall pulled himself together as best he could and approached Mirevas once more. She stepped towards him, smiling that smile that always did him in.

“This is for you, then,” she said, holding out the paper.

“Thank you, my lady.” He reached to take it from her, and as she put it in his hand, her fingers touched his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Had she done that on purpose? He hoped she’d done that on purpose.

He didn’t want to take his eyes off her, but if there was anything he’d learned from the last time he’d accepted a job with her, it was that he ought to be prepared. So he unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly, satisfying himself that there was nothing unexpected in this particular contract. A social obligation at an art show. It seemed simple enough. A Friday evening spent with the most magnificent woman he’d ever been lucky enough to lay eyes on. There was nothing he wanted more.

Mirevas tucked a strand of black hair behind a long, pointed ear. “Does everything look all right?”

“Perfect.” Blackwall set the paper down on the counter. “I shall count the seconds.”

Too much, it was too much. He shouldn’t say such things. She’d come seeking professional services, not a date. But Mirevas just ducked her head with a grin. “Such chivalry,” she said. “I look forward to it, too.”

She looked up at him once more, her piercing gaze locking him in place. For a moment, he thought he saw something in those dark eyes. Something...something…

Then she nodded and turned away, crossing to the door. With one last glance in his direction, she stepped outside, and he watched through the window as she walked quickly away.

Blackwall let out a breath and realized how wobbly his knees had become. He leaned his weight against the counter and tried to calm the fluttering of his heart.

“You’re going to her gallery opening, then?” Gal said.

Blackwall nodded.

“A gallery opening?” The Tevinter client -- Blackwall thought he’d heard him called Dorian -- squinted at him in undisguised scrutiny. “Is that...a common sort of job for you?”

Blackwall frowned at the man. “Not exactly.”

“I hadn’t thought so. No offense, but you look the sort one hires to lift heavy objects, that sort of thing.”

He bristled. “I can handle myself at an art gallery.”

“Of course you can,” Dorian said smoothly. “Tell me, what are you intending to wear?”

Blackwall opened his mouth to reply and found himself stuck. What was he going to wear?

The Tevinter nodded smugly. “That’s rather what I thought.”

Blackwall was caught between anger and despair. He would be fine at an art gallery. He would wear--erm, he would wear--

“Fear not.” Dorian stepped forward and patted Blackwall once on the arm. Blackwall’s answering glare caused the man to take a step back, but he continued in a patronizing tone, “I can help.”

“I don’t need help.”

The Tevinter ignored him. “You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, but you don’t want to look like a prat, either. Do you have anything in brocade?”

Blackwall glowered at the man.

“No, of course you don’t.” Dorian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You may need to make a shopping outing. A waistcoat, perhaps. Double-breasted. Yes, with an ascot. Very nice.”

Blackwall tried to picture himself in a double-breasted waistcoat and ascot, and immediately shook his head. “No.”

Dorian tilted his head. “Not an ascot? No, I suppose that might be a bit pretentious. Well, for you, anyway. A jauntily-tied scarf may be a better choice.”

In frustration, Blackwall looked towards Gal, who looked back at him blankly and shrugged.

At that moment, Cassandra made a disgusted noise, and all three of them turned to look at her. They’d entirely forgotten she was in the room.

“Wear a blazer,” she said. “And dress slacks. With a button-down shirt in a nice color. That will be enough.”

The Tevinter frowned. “I suppose, if you don’t want to be creative--”

“I don’t,” Blackwall interrupted.

“It’s better that you’re not.” Cassandra folded her arms. “You’re not an artist. You don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself. It may work for some--” she glanced at Dorian “--but it’s not for the uninitiated. No. Blazer, trousers, shirt. Top button undone. That’s all.”

They all blinked at her for a moment.

She huffed. “If there’s one thing you learn as a child in the Pentaghast household, it’s how to dress for social events. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to discuss with Josephine.” With that, she stepped past them all, knocked on the office door, and entered, closing the door behind her.

The three men looked at each other. Then Gal turned to Dorian. “We should go,” he said. “If you want me to sort out those shelves today.”

“Yes, yes,” Dorian answered in distraction, and followed Gal to the exit. Just before he left, Dorian looked back over his shoulder. “Cornflower blue,” he told Blackwall. “For the shirt. It will bring out your eyes.”

Then the door closed behind him, and Blackwall was alone.

Cornflower blue. Surreptitiously, Blackwall examined his reflection in the glass window. Hmm.

He’d think about it.

The song: “You Should Consider Having Sex With a Bearded Man”, by the Beards, from the album Having a Beard Is the New Not Having a Beard. It’s not exactly what I’d call an explicit song, but it’s not innocent either, so listen at your own risk.

Continuing on: Chapter 3 - In Which Blackwall Is Not Dalish

[symbianosgames]

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra’s community. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.

Despite being a fairly mediocre artist, I get a lot of comments and compliments on the artwork and visual design in Ikenfell. This makes me very happy, of course. Obviously, those who dislike it are much less likely to say so to me personally, but I love that lots of people are very receptive to the look and style of the game. I’ve been asked several times to talk about my approach to the pixel art, and what kinds of rules, palettes, and inspirations I use for the game. So this will be a large, orderless, and rambling post about all of that!

About Ikenfell

Perspective

Inspiration

Colours

Process

Characters

Portraits & Dialogue

Battles

Ikenfell is a heartwarming turn-based RPG about a school of magic and its troublesome students. It is currently in active development, and we're aiming for a 2018 release on Steam and the Humble Store. Humble Bundle Inc. is publishing the game.

Official Website / Official Press Kit

If you write about the game in a blog or article, please use assets from the official press kit!

A note about "good" pixel art

As with most art styles, there is a lot of contention about what good pixel art is and what best practices should be. I follow some general guidelines, but most of what I do is from just repeatedly doing lots of pixel art and tweaking my style until I get the results I desire. A lot of amazing pixel artists produce work that is far beyond my capabilities, but I do the best I can within my limits.

This overview is not about how to make good or popular pixel art, it is about my design decisions regarding my own game, my inspiration, and my reasoning behind them.

Now, let’s begin!

Ikenfell’s camera, like a lot of 2D games (especially RPGs), has a birds-eye view of the game world.

The camera is looking down at the world, if you imagined it in 3D, at about ~60 degrees (this is a rough estimate, in this screenshot alone you can see I am very liberal with the actual angle of objects). The projection is orthographic, meaning that as objects get further away from the camera, they do not actually look smaller (as in real life), they are “flattened” onto the screen.

Often game developers will just make 2D games and take all this for granted, and just draw the art, but I like to think about camera and perspective a lot, as it’s one of the key relationships in the game between the player and the world itself. Knowing the details of this relationship can make the difference sometime when you’re making a visual design decision, as even technical details can help you highlight where and when it’s most important to break these rules.

Ikenfell’s visual design is inspired by several games. I found a screenshot from each game that was relatively similar to the Ikenfell screenshot I posted above, so you can easily see where I drew ideas from each!

Link's Awakening

I love Link's Awakening’s extremely reserved use of tiles, and efficiency with space. Every room has an interesting shape, the background tiles use a very minimal amount of antialiasing to occasionally introduce interesting shapes and curves, and rooms are often reduced to their very basic ideas. But you don’t want multiple rooms to feel the exact same, and Link’s Awakening does this wonderfully. Here’s a simple 4-screen graveyard in the game:

This simple area is wonderful. You get an off-purple colour and haunted trees to give you a sense of unease (ghosts will pop out of graves and attack you, but the visuals make you ready for it). The little rubble tiles and weedy overgrowth convey that this is an old, run-down graveyard, not well-kept. The cliff in the bottom screens gives you a sense of location (the graveyard is on a raised-up plateau, giving some sense of the burial rites of whoever owned these graves). The exits to the left and top have different terrain types, indicating that this graveyard is a bridge from one area to another, so we know we’re leaving our previous location. And, finally, despite the 4-rooms containing all the same elements, they are each differently shaped and detailed. You have multiple paths to walk through each room, so there is no correct path, just a strange haunting area to navigate through (while avoiding mean ghosts).

I could talk this much about every single screen in Link’s Awakening, so I’ll stop now, but this kind of overthinking is what drives a lot of Ikenfell’s inspiration. What a gorgeous game.

Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire

While I am not particularly fond of the character designs (or the pixel art in general) of Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire, I do like their buildings and interiors a lot, so they served as inspiration for a lot of Ikenfell’s architecture.

I like how, to create the least amount of view-obstructing details, these games often just eliminate the side and bottom walls of interiors. In this screenshot, there’s some subtle shadows on the side to give a sense of the ceiling’s height, and the bare minimum amount of details scattered about to give a sense of this character’s lifestyle:

Interiors were often cramped, but so many buildings in this game have completely unique artwork, which was very inspiring. When a building or a house looked completely different from others, I was always inspired to search it, and it was always pleasing to explore its interior with its wonderful new details. This bike shop, with its tiled floor, yellow/orange highlights, thin interior walls, and details scattered about was such a cool looking little area:

This game inspired me to research dozens and dozens of building styles and designs, and always to try to make new houses, buildings, and interiors look and feel distinct.

Mother 3

The simple lines, bold flat blocks of color, and almost childish flat look of Mother 3 wonderfully disguises its immense cleverness and wonderful use of space. I thought this game was a huge step-up visually from Earthbound, and if, after playing, you go back and just look at a few rooms, you start to see how nicely arranged a lot of them truly are.

Just like in the above screenshot, this screenshot below shows another night-time scene. Rather than use a real lighting system (difficult on a small system like the GBA), the game uses beautiful blue/purple palettes for dark areas.

The game just has this wonderful way of breaking up monotony as well. In the next screenshot, it’s a simple room with a stairway leading up to a door. But the building is run-down, so they create little 3D indents in the walls, break off pieces of the siding, carpet the stairs, stain the walls, and just create a series of interesting edges that turn a room that would look very boring into a very visually appealing place to walk through. All you have to do here is hold right, but somehow it feels like so much more, this place has a history and you can feel it down to its very skeleton.

The dark outlines around characters and objects in Ikenfell is very inspired by Mother 3, as well as the bold colours and inner-edge lighting. If you look at this side-by-side comparison (Mother 3 on the left, Ikenfell on the right), you can see how solid objects have dark outlines at their edges, but edges inside the sprite use a highlight colour instead, rather than another dark line cutting across them.

I really like how minimal this is, makes objects seem whole, and gives a strong sense of shape and body to things without cluttering them up with detail. If all the edges of an object use dark line, even in their interior, they tend to look really messy and ugly when done at such a low resolution.

Minish Cap

This game is so utterly gorgeous, I wish I could do it any justice by saying I’m very inspired by its visuals, but I can’t really. I often look at dungeons, buildings, forests, and mountains of this game when creating artwork for Ikenfell, but rarely can I even come close to making it look even remotely as good.

When colouring, I like to look at this game, because it does a wonderful job of ramps. The way these trees darken closer to their base is just beautiful, and the little way so much detail is suggested rather than shown is expertly done. Notice how the grass is mostly flat, but there are just a few tufts here and there?

Minish Cap, like Mother 3, also makes tremendous use of huge bodies of flat colour. Detail is often suggested with little bits, like the clouds in the screenshot above. It also serves a helpful gameplay purpose: very often, flat coloured areas are places you can walk, and highly textured objects and tiles are solid. I take great inspiration from this when pixelling Ikenfell's scenery.

Ikenfell actually does the inverse of this. Often, floors and the ground are textured, but objects like furniture and walls are flat, so they look like big obstructing blocks of colour, and you know you cannot pass them. If we highlight all the large flat blocks of colour in this room, we can see a very clear shape, making the room very easy to read, despite being cluttered with a lot of details and characters.

So while I take a lot of inspiration from the games above, and it is very clear how they inspired me, I quite often will deviate from their rules where I feel it works best for my game. By doing so, I have a huge amount of other screenshots and locations from those games I can look at for reference, but I’ve managed to give the game its own unique look and feel, despite having very strong influences.

I find colouring very difficult, and it often takes me a ton of experimentation to end up with something I’m happy with. In Ikenfell, lots of the areas will still probably be changed and re-coloured a lot before the game is done, but I still have a few patterns I find myself repeating.

Most areas of Ikenfell can be divided into two colour groups: a base and a highlight. There is usually one or two base colors, and one or two highlights. Here are a few screenshots and their respective main colour pairings:

Here’s an image that shows my general process when creating environment tiles for a new area. I usually pixel a room, and then break it up into tiles after I know what I want it to look like. Then I can use those tiles to piece together new rooms.

Here is an animated version of that same image, so you can see how each step improves the look:

This example environment doesn’t really have much colour. Sometimes I colour it right away, other times I’ll just work with values (like the above example) and then colour it after. It depends how I’m feeling, and how complex the tiles are.

Since the entire game occurs in a single place, the titular school of magic itself, it’s quite a contained story. This makes character design really fun, because I don’t have sprawling cities or huge towns to worry about. There are probably only about 30–40 characters in Ikenfell, and each has a unique design. There is no character template I use, I pixel each one from scratch, and usually have a couple others next to it for reference so I can make sure it fits in the game.

Here you can see twelve of the game’s characters and their respective silhouettes. The legs are the only thing that they really all have in common, and looks kinda templated. If I was able to start the game from scratch again, I think I would like to play around with size more (make kids shorter, have fatter characters be fatter, and taller characters be taller, muscular/etc.) With so few characters, though, they’re all very identifiable, so I’m pretty happy with them like this.

Not much else to say here. You’ll notice that most characters also follow a two/three-colour scheme. The choice to leave out eyes was because their sprites are too small: eyes ended up just looking the same on all characters (which I didn’t like), or they were comically large. Since the game has portraits during conversations, I felt like it was more important to emphasize their faces and expressions there.

Speaking of which…

For a good several months of development, Ikenfell actually didn’t have portraits for dialogue. The sprites would just move around and have conversations, and that was it. I didn’t have confidence to draw large character portraits (I am terrible at drawing humans and anatomy), and I already felt like the game was becoming too large for me to handle.

But, on a whim one day, I drew little portraits for each of the main characters in my notepad, with a pencil. I loved how these little drawings looked, so I drew them again with a few expressions, and I couldn’t unsee them. I decided that it’d be a lot easier to pixel them if I drew them in pencil first, then translated that to pixel art, which is how I’ve done most of the character portraits now.

Here are a few and their respective silhouettes. Notice that every single character is asymmetrical. I learned early on that if a character’s left/right side is a mirror-image, they look really creepy and strange. This is probably normal art school stuff, but I learned it the hard way.

I’m very happy I did this. I think the characters come alive so much more when you see them talking and expressing themselves like this, and now I can’t even imagine the game without it.

Here you can see how they look in action. The portrait and the textbox slide in, but there is no text immediately. Your eye goes to their face, so you first see their expression. Then the text prints out, and your eye naturally moves to follow it. I pushed the face down into the textbox, instead of on top of it, to reduce how much screen space the dialogue took up as much as possible.

Characters can only speak in short sentences this way, longer sentences being broken into multiple chunks, but this allows me to shift between micro-expressions while they talk. Here you can see Maritte’s anger transition into more of a general frustration, which is a lot easier to notice than if it only had the text.

When I originally was working on the game, it was actually an action RPG, more like Link’s Awakening. It was quite a few months into development before I had some issues with this, and transitioned the game into a turn-based tactical RPG instead.

The reason for this was that I didn’t like how, because the gameplay took place in the school itself, all the rooms had to be designed for fighting and maximum movement. Interesting room shapes and cramped spaces suddenly weren’t viable when I wanted them to be, because real-time fighting wasn’t very fun or interesting in those kinds of rooms.

So I moved battles into a completely separate screen, which allows me to design them however I want, while also designing the overworld to be whatever shape I want as well. The battles are much different than the overworld. Suddenly the graphics are huge and details, and the characters are much more animated and alive!

These battles are 12 x 3 tiles, so they are much more horizontal than vertical. Because of this, characters can also only face left and right. This means I can flip animations, greatly reducing my workload. You’ll also notice that the battlefield is skewed as well, but why?

If we remove the skew, it becomes readily apparent:

Without the skew, we have a problem with occlusion: characters on a tile immediately above another character are almost completely covered if the sprite is large. As soon as we skew the battlefield, though…

We no longer have this problem, since characters can only ever be vertically aligned if they are two tiles apart, and most sprites aren’t tall enough for that to be an issue. I also think it simply makes battles look more dynamic and exciting anyway.

I hope you enjoyed reading this! There’s a lot more to talk about, but this is a simple overview to explain a lot of my graphical choices while designing the game. I might do some smaller posts talking a bit more about the technical details of how I approach the pixel art, but this was a good introduction.

I can’t wait until you can all play this game! I’m having so much fun working on it, I hope you enjoy it when it is released. Please email me if you have questions about anything, my inbox is always open.

@ChevyRay / happytrash@gmail.com

Artwork by Darcy Dee