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phoenixtakaramono · 7 months ago

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Question, so how are things with the A prince and his baron given what we have seen of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva boss? Are you planning to continue it, rewritting it according to what we've seen in both shows or just its gonna stay like that? No pressure to answer and of course its your story after all so you get to decide what to do with it

Hullo, anon! I’m happy to answer any questions for any of my WIPs. 💞 Regarding A Prince and His Baron and its status:

Question, so how are things with the A prince and his baron given what we have seen of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva boss?

It’s still waiting its turn! Because I’m a multi-WIP writer across several fandoms, just so it’s fair to everyone who’s been patiently waiting for whichever fic it is from me, I’m responsibly going down the masterlist of story updates (which I’d pinned on my tumblr). The schedule was intended to be rotational, so I’m trying to stick to updating 1 chapter per story going down the list before circling back to the top. So unless I get hit by a strong burst of inspiration, P&B ch5 should be updated after The Untold Tale ch6. So keep an eye out for that! A key hint, the content on my tumblr blog & twitter usually reflects which fandom I’m working on that corresponds to the WIP currently being updated. So if I start posting/tweeting a lotta Hellaverse stuff, y’know I’m working on P&B. Once it’s P&B’s turn, I’ll be posting more chapter sneak peeks. ;)

I don’t remember if I ever tweeted it or posted a sneak peek here—it might’ve been buried underneath my threadfic updates for another fandom—but after watching Hazbin Hotel S1, I felt a lil inspired and broke my rule of usually hardcore immersing & pigeonholing myself to the fandom of whichever WIP I’m working on (which is currently Truce ch3). I sneakily wrote a bit of P&B ch5 based on what I’d seen and tweeted/posted a sneak peek of what I added to the upcoming P&B chapter. But in case my memory exists in delulu land, haha, here are some screenshots from the Google Doc itself 🤫:

This is during the time when I wrote a short Chaggie threadfic (tumblr / twitter) and broke out my ol’ tablet to draw a shippy Chaggie fanart as a watcher enthusiastically celebrating the show airing, haha. P&B might not be ready yet but this was my small way to show support. And y'all can thank the 2024 Hellaverse Collab artists project for getting me in the mood to make my next 900 followers celebration illustration involving Vox and Alastor (it's a bit special to me because it's my first time illustrating Alastor and, y'all don't know this, but I'd liked Alastor from the pilot ep, which was what led into getting into Helluva Boss and later to me creating P&B in the first place as a fan's small contribution, to show my support for the creator's landmark creative endeavor).

Are you planning to continue it, rewriting it according to what we've seen in both shows or just its gonna stay like that?

It's still being continued! And it is definitely going to stay as it is, ah. No rewrites! Fortunately we only have 4 chapters so far so I didn't have to change much to be honest, of the few things I'm willing to change.

I'd answered an Ask regarding this awhile back (you'd have to comb through my Tags Masterlist) but the tl;dr is: Given what I've seen thus far, I'm going to be taking inspirations from both shows and ignoring certain canon things (like the mystery about Lilith being gone and Eve possibly having impersonated her (I already wrote that Lilith helped write the royal invitation to Blitzø in P&B so…whelp, sorry, but I’m not changing what’s already written especially because there is a huge chunk of paragraphs solely dedicated to it) as well as Blitzø’s and Stolas’ childhood friends aspect, because that contradicts the entire driving force of the fish-out-of-water meet cute in my story where they meet in the prologue as complete strangers—and we'll see them fall in love with each other as the story proceeds despite the political machinations of Hell's upper crust society and the challenges awaiting them). It's the reason why I made A Prince and His Baron into an AU to be safe; this way, once something later revealed to be canon contradicts what's written in the story, it's an AU. So it's fine. Otherwise, and I'm being honest, I get demotivated to continue a fic if I face the herculean task of...like, having to change details across 15 chapters just so it's canon accurate. I don't have the time for that. For small changes though, like the pilot surname of "Magne" changing to Amazon Prime confirmed "Morningstar" surname, that's fine. It's just a matter of pressing Crtl+F and doesn't require a HUGE rewrite. :)

The way I want y'all to think, going into P&B, it's an Alternate Universe. If there are any references to canon, like all my WIPs that are AU in concept, those are lil canon Easter Eggs I sprinkle in for funsies. And anything not canon (like Stolas being a wee more debonair/ manipulative and politically savvy in my fic (Blitz's first impression), but behind that Stolas is still a bookish, sweet and dorky royal gentleman as Blitz will come to find...so that's a wee closer to the Stolas in canon), my veering away from canon is done on purpose to tell a story. So, y'all, don't come at me if something's not canon in A Prince and His Baron, haha. I can't read Viv's and HB writers' minds! The most I can do is try to keep up to date with the kernels the Spindelhorse team mention on Twitter, and keep up with both shows to see the direction they're going in (this way I can borrow canon characters instead of creating OCs and I can get a more accurate grasp on their personalities instead of guessing due to the lack of material at the time).

I'll be excited to be back and continue P&B once we get to its turn! Boy, do I miss that world. And, boy, do I have so many exciting things I want to share with y'all.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #stolitz #ask #anon #phoenix talks #ty for the ask <3 #preview

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batri-jopa · 2 years ago

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a meme!

Thanks for tagging me @notasapleasure

1. Are you named after anyone?

Not after a real person. My mom said it was a name of a doll in some kind of fairy tale that she watched (or read?) and she just liked that name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

A week ago. Well, I guess I asked for it: after all those years I just should have known better than dwell on that kind of stuff from the past and in this part of my hormone cycle. (You know stuff like one of these few extremally rare moments in your life someone from your closest family said sth that made you feel like shit but thinking about it years after still never fails to make you feel like shit all over again?)

3. Do you have kids?

No. Surprisingly no. If asked ten years ago I would most surely say I'm going to. Not that I ever really desired it so much. More that not wanting was always considered as something that is worthy of condemnation. So it was just that "normal thing to do" with no deeper thinking involved nor required, you know?

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

It depends but sometimes it feels like the last thing that is left to defence my mental stability. And I'd rather be commenting an absurdish situation (especially in my job) than a person.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

Table tennis my love!❤ Any other I ever tried playing is not even worth mentioning (I played field hockey two or three times and football once or twice and I remember really enjoying it. But unfortunately girls were let to play it extremally rarely, we were expected to play volleyball or basketball - none of which I ever liked😑)

6. What's the first thing you notice about other people?

I'm not sure what kind of situation I'm expected to consider... So in the place where I am just a random person in the crowd (railway station and such) I would probably first notice if anyone looked angry or impatient or irritated - to make sure I can avoid getting on their way (e.g. being a patient in a waiting room it's about sitting quietly with your head low and ignoring any possible evil comments about healthcare and politics). As for when I'm feeling safe or even going to meet someone new - I will pay attention to people's face expression and eyes, I also like to see someone smiling or doing or wearing something that make me think we have something in common. Also I notice their clothes sometimes if I liked the colour or the pattern (I can't help it, my brain is of visual artist😅 It doesn't mean I judge ppl by their look. Many times I find something ugly in objectively pretty person that I did not liked and in somebody I liked I'd always find some beautiful detail, regardless their look)

7. What's your eyes colour?

Yellow on the inside with blue ring on the outside. I like to think it makes them look a bit green from a distance.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

If only two options avaliable I'd rather choose happy ending. Life is scary enough😅

9. Any special talents?

Drawing I guess. I am able to project a picture from my brain to a flat paper with a piece of charcoal and it's like freaking magic. It never stopped to amaze me.

10. Where were you born?

In a town in north Poland.

11. What are your hobbies?

Drawing most of all. Also creating short stories on my head I then illustrate or longer stories I sometimes write down. Given more free time I also like to engage into pyrography, sewing stuffed toys or crocheting. From time to time I like to travel, most usually to one of Polish towns but traveling abroad I like too.

12. Do you have any pets?

Cat for the last 4 years. Before that I was having syrian hamsters for almost 20 years (16 hamsters).

13. How tall are you?

165 centimeters.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Mathemathics above everything else! Also liked Polish, biology and chemistry. Most hated was always sports, while geography, history and physics were dangerously close to "hate" line.

15. Dream job?

Dream as "daydream"? I sometimes fantasize if I was born again I'd like to be one of the graphics making animated movie, like those of a Pixar studio. Or a pastor officiating weddings of gay couples

Dream as what I wish or plan: creating art on request or design prints for t-shirt, cushions and children blankets, maybe designing playing cards too - just enough for me to be satisfied that I can do it and my client to have a personalized gift. At the same time working other job 2-3 days a week to earn just enough for a comfortable life.

Tag fifteen mutuals - that's the worst part, how do I get so much?😑 Okey, everybody, feel invited but not pressed: @figuringthengsout , @chrisoels , @morulezopelforever , @sharp-lines-in-charcoal , @parttimereptile , @greenbloodedskink , @krejong , @theflyingrhubarb , @sunlightismydestroyer-blog , @asteeee , @bylercultism , @princesspink48484 , @elephant-reincarnation , @angleshades , @sweetlullabyebye

#tag game #meme game #just me

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annesdiary · 9 months ago

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10 March 2024

Okay so a bit of an update for myself. for my own sake. It's going to be long af.

Future me, if you're rereading this, bring a cup of tea. Well, actually popcorn.

I think I may just talk a bit about each person who is close to me.

B got together with her crush, the guy seems to be a sweetheart.

A forgot my birthday.

E too. I told her, she apologized. Shortly after that she hung up the phone.

I thought I needed closure from E too. And I called her to talk to her.

(Idk if you know this; I'm a smart woman, I'm quite familiar with literary theory, victorian literature etc. that's what I read in my free time, that's my field of speciality). I mentioned my research about Sherlock Holmes. It's late, I'm tired and I don't really want to get into the details.

Me: I'm doing this research about Sherlock Holmes and literary stuff.... E: what literary stuff? you need to be more specific, you can't build a research on "literary stuff".

Me after I patiently explained some stuff that I presume she didn't understand: And than I have to do a poster about it. E: you know who you should talk to? *a student she had's name* Me: why would I talk to her? E: she can draw. you can't just slap text on a poster and call it a day. Me: I spent hours going through last years winners to see what I have to do, those contained predominantly text and small-ish, simple illustrations E: *going on and on about stuff she doesn't know because she hasn't been a part of academic life in decades* Me: *finally giving up* You're right.

I called her as a friend. Just because I told her "Sherlock Holmes and literary stuff" she assumes that that's all I have in my head. Meanwhile I'm reading academic papers published by people from the most prestigious universities in my second language in my free time. She last learnt literature (very basic stuff!) when she went to uni. She learnt English literature as part of her ESL programme. At least 25-30 years ago. English was NOT her major, English literature for her was ONE course. . Literature is my major, it's one of my hobbies, I am (by university thing's standards) kind of an expert in it. How dare she look down on me, seriously. In regards to my field of study.

I'm fine. :)

E was tagged in a post, making god-knows-what with woman, one of her friends. (And other ladies.) I never heard anything good about that lady. E only ever talked shit about that woman. E wanted to cut this lady out of her life several times.

Now this lady posted several pictures with E, doing some painting activity.

Thinking of the quote, I don’t know who said it: If I’m a lot, then go find less.

I talked to T a few weeks ago, he was going somewhere by train and we texted, he was telling me kind of nsfw jokes and I kind of enjoyed that. A few hours later, he shut it down, telling me he thinks he went to far.

K is sweet as ever. We talked a few weeks ago, well, she asked for my advice about some girls who went to our class in high school. I didn't keep in touch with them, she did. And it felt so good because she told me how heathy she thinks out friendship is. And how I understand when she doesn't have time to meet up but I know she's always here for me.

And now for the absolute best part: N told me she'd like me to participate in a thing. I have to do research and then put everything I've found on a poster. She helped me with that and she is the absolute best.

I'm so happy I met her and she was kind of my way into academia. It was my first time writing an abstract and she was so kind and patient with me. (I think considering it's my first time, I actually did great, I did the thing with one correction. After I corrected the mistakes she found, for the 2nd time she said it was a great start.)

I'm so grateful for her and I feel like this attachment is the healthiest I am capable of. Like I know she corrects me because she wants me to be better. I know she's a great communicator and she'll let me know if I'm too much/annoy her/crossed a boundary of hers.

In her last e-mail she said "Okay, it's a great start, send it to *a prof's name* if he accepts it, great. But if not, there will be other people who accept it."

Which is so reassuring both emotionally and academically.

#B #E #A #T #K #N

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 2 years ago

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woah woah woah yuri you're still alive????

haha what happened you may ask??? well, life just gave me hell and decided that today. TODAY, was gonna top it off with the biggest disaster so far!!!!!

i literally just wanted to have ONE day off after my bday, but the next morning my computer wouldn't work! which was fantastic because literally every single one of my wips/ finished not posted works/ digital art was on there so i stressed. the FUCK. out

it's fixed now ofc and THANKFULLY nothing was lost except the artworks that weren't autosaved that day! (which- yknow, sucks, but there was worse at stake before :'D) after me bEGGING my dad to help me with the problem

except it's NOT OVER yet!!!!

sai's settings and brushes reseted for some reason and my absolute fav custom brushes were gone! so with me trying to recreate them then loosing them all over because they just wouldn't be SAVED OMG and me going for a trip to my uncle's small town and watching the leftover day offs i had dwindle so goshdarn fast i was feeling so sO drained-

and wanna know the funniest thing??? when i come back home ready to post art and FINALLY rant about this what happens?? no wifi :DDDD

prioritizing the water and electricity bills first, i got to work and drew everyday to make it up for you guys and look at that! i have good and horrible news!

so SURPRISE! since you guys have been SO patient with me (thank you all :'D), i will say that i have a LOT of finished works to post! all ranging from 1 animated gif, 9 artworks, 1 illustration that's part of a little prompt idea i came up with (1 done and 4 left)

technically, i have 2 pieces finished and 3 wips for the remaining days of fnk week and 2 new ocs!!!! (and redraws of 4 older ocs, 2 of which are ready to post)

as for the worse news... man. i'm barely hanging here but woo i broke my tablet's pen and it's charging wire!! (i literally don't know how but it got separated from it's body while it was in it and i can't i can't even)

i am so so broken right now- i was so happy to update yesterday and reblog stuff since i finally got wifi again and- man it feels like i'm making this shit up but oh my god i wanna cry

i guess i could post everything i had the chance to draw before but gosh i'm so sorry but i can't promise more art after i announce which one was the last in stock- (at least until i get enough money to buy a replacement for them both)

i know i suck at communicating if i'm alive and just having a hard time but i swear this year was really rough on me and my health in general so i hope you guys can understand :'(

#rambling #delete later?#i am so so tired all the time #i guess it was a needed rest to just. not think about anything and draw for fun but it also wasn't exactly relaxing-#i have so little free time and wasting it feels so horrible and i'm. sorry #sorry for dropping off out of the sudden and sorry for the wait i'm aware that it's sad whenever it happens #i planned this post in advance so when i noticed my pen wasn't working anymore i was having such a breakdown i'm #i can't even open commissions i can't draw no more oh my gosh i'm sorry #just when you think it's getting better it gets a hundred times WORSE i can't believe my LUCK!!!!!#and oh my god SORRY for not reblogging stuff you tag me into as well!!!#i felt like every happy emotion was drained out of my soul and i couldn't act like i was excited and all when i was doing horrible so #i didn't read nor look at anything because you guys deserve the original reaction of surprise and some real compliments!!!!#sorry if that means i don't reblog right away but i refrain from looking at something and only liking if i plan on leaving commentary later #and to the asks staring daggers at me in my inbox yall i swear if i wasn't busy being stomped over by life i'd answer in a heartbeat-#THANK YOU to EVERYONE for sticking by even if you probably forgot you even followed me at this point hhh :'D #too emotionally tired to delete the old happy tags i typed before #i could probably post this once i get my emotions in check but man i'm TIRED of waiting i am so done #gosh it must be a disappointing return right? yeah #sorry for the long post but man- i just don't wanna worry you guys for nothing #so heads up i'm probably gonna take a day off after this and be less cheerful than usual once i'm back #so ill wait to reblog stuff later again (so sorry again)#i'll make an announcement once i start posting the art i finished meanwhile (one every day cause there's a LOT)

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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Finally another oneshot, after forever and a day. I’m weak for soulmate AUs. I think most of you know that already.

SO WHY NOT ANOTHER?! WOO!

This one is based on a prompt given to me a hella long time ago, idk who sent it to me. Tell me who you are so I can credit you! I wrote down the prompt for me to remember, it’s something like; “You can write letters to your soulmate, and they travel through time either to a moment your soulmate needs the letter most or to a random point in time to them.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dear Myself.

I’m doing this for school. We have to write letters to our future self. I am nine years old right now, the year is 2009. I hope you found a cool job! I don’t know what to do yet. I like drawing though! Science is icky, so I hope you’re not a scientist. But if you are, and if it makes us happy, then I guess it’s okay. Be the best scientist you can! If you are all moved out, did you ever get a pet hamster? Hamsters are so cute!

Oh, but most important. Yesterday, I was bullied by my Arch Enemy. You know who. Yeah. Anyway, she said some mean things and it just reminded me that sometimes life hurts, and people can hurt you real bad. But life is still pretty. A family of robins made a nest on my terrace outside my room, and I saw them after I was done crying. They are so cute, and made me happy again. So, always look for your family of robins to keep you happy, I guess. Life isn’t bad, even if some things and people are. I hope you remember that. Keep believing in yourself, and in others!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past).

Do not open this letter before 2020! Pretty please!

Shaking hands held the letter. It was written two years ago, but he only could have gotten it now. It just appeared on his desk out of nowhere. At first, he thought it was some sick joke. He had just moved to Gotham again, and none of his—

None of them knew he was back. But he recognized this handwriting. He had gotten exactly one letter from them before, written by an older version of this woman and received by him when he was ten. Not long after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The letter back then had been short, precise. Comforting.

Hello there.

I am writing this in the year 2018. You see, I found out quite a while ago that my soulmate bond is unique. It sends letters to you that I write, from all across time. I can get your letters, too, so don’t hesitate to write to me if you need to vent. My letters might not always reach you in time to feel like a normal response, but I’ll keep writing if you do. I know your life isn’t easy, if the letters I’ve already gotten mean anything. But keep fighting. I know what it’s like to be the underdog. But I’m rooting for you.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, New Adult.

Jason’s hands crumpled the two pieces of paper in them, the older of the two already close to crumbling away. They had buried him with it, resurrected him with it. It had seen hell and back just like him, but he still kept it. Even with blurring ink and ripped edges and blood stains. The writing and names matched, even if his newer letter was written in the clumsy scrawl of a child. The nuances in the handwriting were still the same.

She would still be writing to him. This new letter he got was clearly the first, before she knew about her soulmate or how her letters would disappear after she wrote them just like his did. But 2009? It just sank into him, that she was younger than he was. By seven years.

But her words still kept him afloat better than any lecture from that asshole Bruce.

He couldn’t see her yet. Not any time soon, really. He was already eighteen, dead and resurrected, and she was barely eleven. He could wait.

She didn’t need somebody as screwed and dark as him right now, anyway. A murderer, a budding crime boss. If she needed someone killed for her, or someone to save her, he’d be there. Otherwise?

Jason took out the receipt from his last visit to a gas station for cigarettes, grabbed a sharpie from his desk, and began to write.

Yo, Mari.

I’m writing this in 2011. I got your first letter. Thanks. It reminded me of some good times. I’m sorry I didn’t write anything for five years. Stuff happened. I won’t write often. Not until I’m in a better place. But if you need it, you can vent to me too. Also, don’t look at the back of this receipt. This was the only paper I could find.

Jason T., Your Soulmate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette, nine years old, stared down at the receipt that had taken the place of her letter to herself. She recognized that it was written in English, but she couldn’t read it yet. But that was okay, her Papan and Maman could read English!

She ran down, holding it in her hands tightly. She didn’t want the mystery letter to disappear! She handed it to her parents, who were in the middle of making croissants and stared at her for a moment. And then they broke into a flurry of movement.

“Why do you have a receipt for cigarettes, Marinette?!” Sabine yelled, confused more than angry. How would her daughter get a receipt written in English? And after giving her parents a confused head tilt, Marinette explained.

“It just appeared, like, poof!” She moved her hands to illustrate her point. “I was writing my letter to my future self for school, which is gone now oh no! Mlle. is going to be so mad!”

“Mari, focus,” Tom prodded gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You were writing your letter, and then what?”

Marinette took a deep breath. “Well, I finished it and put it in a little envelope. But as soon as I put it down and was all done, it shimmered red and faded away! This showed up in the same place my letter had been, like they were traded!”

Tom and Sabine shared a glance, and her mom held out her hand. “Can I read it, Marinette? I promise I won’t take it away. Your father and I just want to see what it says. We’ll read it to you.”

Marinette nodded eagerly, and after making sure their dough was put away the family of bakers moved to their living room and the little girl sat on her father’s lap as her mother held the note for them to see and read it aloud.

The parents shared another glance.

“Wow!” Marinette exclaimed happily, bouncing in place. “He sounds so cool! He is my soulmate? Really? I wonder what he looks like!” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality as she began to daydream. “I bet he’s super handsome! And nice and strong and—“

“Mari,” Tom said gently, tugging one pigtail playfully to get his daughter’s attention. She turned her large blue eyes to him, rapt with attentiveness. “I know this is exciting, but you know that not all soulmates are romantic, right?”

Marinette instantly calmed down, eyebrows pinching together. “But— but Nino said that soulmates are people you will marry in the future. Your perfect person. Like you and Maman,” she argued, incredibly confused. Her Maman chuckled, handing Marinette her receipt-letter back.

“Yes, but sometimes a person doesn’t need romance the most. Sometimes, what a person needs most is a friend or another family member. So sometimes, a soulmate is a big sister or brother instead, or another Maman or Papan. And we think that your soulmate might be the big brother kind,” she explained patiently. Marinette’s confusion instantly changed to excitement again, eyes sparkling with starry amazement.

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Well,” Tom took over, tapping the receipt with one finger. This receipt is from America. Over there, you have to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. Which means that, two years from now, your soulmate is already eighteen.”

“Or he better be, anyway,” Sabine growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“But even if he isn’t,” Tom nervously glanced over at his wife and back to his daughter. “The way he writes is too grown up for someone close to your age. He is probably several years older than you—“

“At least seven, if he knows what’s good for him,” Sabine interrupted again. Tom just chuckled and shook his head.

“But still. Are you okay with him not being a romantic soulmate, Nettie?”

Marinette jumped off of her dad’s lap, hugging her note to her chest with one of the biggest smiles either of her parents had ever seen on her face.

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted a big brother! I bet he’s so cool, and rides a motorcycle and beats up bad guys! And when we meet, we’ll go out for ice cream and he’ll ruffle my hair, and let me ride on his shoulders, and it’ll be so awesome!”

Sabine finally lost her threatening aura, laughing along with her daughter. “Well, I don’t know about the whole beating up bad guys thing. But it sounds like he might need some cheering up, so you should write him letters pretty often. You never know when he might need one the most.”

Marinette nodded seriously, eyes shining with determination now. “That’s right! I have to be the best soulmate-sister ever! I’ll start writing him another letter right now!” She instantly turned to run back up to her room, but her dad’s voice followed her:

“Marinette! You haven’t eaten dinner yet!”

—*—*—*—*—*

The next day, Jason came back to his base to see another letter. It was on special scrapbook paper, a pretty white with a heart-and-stars border. He found himself snorting despite himself, shaking his head and picking up the girly letter.

Hello, Jason!

I just got your letter! It’s still 2009, and my parents were worried about the cigarats. I wanted to learn English first, but Maman and Papan reminded me that you have to be able to read French if you were able to read my past letters (I wonder what I wrote you! My future self must be real smart). Maman says you better be 18, or else she’ll kick your butt. She didn’t say that exactly, but I could tell.

Jason snickered at that. She must have a pretty fun family.

Maman and Papan also said that you’re probably a Big Brother soulmate. That’s super cool! I’ve always wanted an older brother, but it’s just me. I get lonely sometimes. And Maman thinks I have a big imagination, so help me prove her wrong! I bet her that you’re suuuuuuper cool, and have a motorcycle and beat up criminals! She doesn’t think my soulmate would be a hero, but I think you are. I don’t even know you yet, but I just feel it. And even if you don’t beat up bad guys, that’s fine. You’ll still protect me like a big brother should, right? And we’ll go and eat ice cream and talk about the stuff we like when we finally meet. And I’ll protect you too. I know little sisters aren’t supposed to, but I will totally protect you anyway. If you’re sad, I’ll make you macaroons and read you a bedtime story. That always makes me happy.

Please write back soon!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past still!)

Jason couldn’t help it, and maybe the Lazarus magic had a bit of sway on him still, but he laughed raucously. A deep, belly-shaking bellow. His soulmate sure was a character! And scarily intuitive. How did she guess such accurate things about him? It was hilarious.

But he wouldn’t write back today. Not yet. He held no illusions; he wasn’t brother material. Not now, and probably not for a while if ever. Which reminded him, he had a replacement to kill.

—*—*—*—*—*

The Replacement lived, but at least Batman had gotten the message. Meanwhile, letters from Little Mari, as he had started calling her in his head, had started piling up. He read every single one, but didn’t respond to any. It was all the usual stuff. Talking about her day, asking stuff about him, spouting advice that seemed way too insightful for a nine-year-old.

He kept every single one. Soon, 2009 letters turned into 2010 letters. She switched from writing almost every day to once a week.

By then, Jason had reconciled with Bruce for the most part. After a few attempts on his life, but that wasn’t important. It was then, as he sat down in the living room watching Tim, Dick, Bruce, and the newest hellion Damian, all talking with and teasing one another that he finally got the urge to write again. So he asked for paper, and Alfred brought him a notepad and a plain ballpoint pen. And, for the first time in over a year, he started writing.

Dick and Bruce noticed first, stopping their banter to stare. Dick smiled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself slump over the sofa’s arm a bit. Tim furrowed his eyebrows, and Damian frowned.

“What are you doing, Todd?” The young hellion asked, but Jason barely heard him.

“Nonya business, squirt,” he replied absently. Bruce chuckled fondly, beckoning to his two youngest sons. They both came a bit closer, and Bruce smiled at them conspiratorially. He leaned forward and whispered:

“Jason’s soulbond allows any letters that he writes to travel through time to his Bonded, and vice versa. Back before… everything, he used to write a letter to her almost every day.”

“It’s really sweet. We lined up the dates, and we think that she’s around your age Damian,” Dick added in equally softly. “Probably a familial bond. It’s good that he’s writing to her again.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette was twelve the next time she got a letter from Jason. But, unlike the last one, this one came from the past. And it was written in French.

Hi, Marinette!

I guess I’m your soulmate. I got your letter from 2018. It’s 2005 when I’m writing this. I’m twelve years old right now, but that shouldn’t matter. It was a little surprising when I got a letter written in French out of nowhere! Luckily, I speak a lot of languages. I love learning languages, and reading is probably my favorite thing to do. Don’t tell anyone though! I have my bad-boy image to keep up. I think our soulbond is really cool actually, and maybe we can teach each other stuff if we do this right. I know the whole time-traveling-letters thing makes it hard to reply to each other like normal. From now on, I’ll write you these letters in English and translate them in French on the back. That way, you can read it whenever you want and also learn English if you don’t already know it when you get this letter.

Oh, and I think I’m older than you? In real time, I mean. If you’re a “new adult” in 2018, then you’re probably a few years younger than me. I was born in 1993. You can do the math, since I don’t know when you were born. Anyway! I’ll keep writing you as often as I can and hope that you get these letters when you need them most.

Jason T., Excited Tween.

Marinette laughed, running down to show her mom. She was only writing Jason once a month now, but in the midst of this first letter she had received in three years, her determination was relit. It was just the letters being dumb when they flew through time! No way he was done writing to her. Right?

“Maman! Maman, he really was eighteen when he wrote that first letter! You don’t have to kill him!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette stared at the pile of letters on her desk, sighing. She ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to read them yet, but she knew they were each dated from 2005. Apparently they had both decided to write daily when they had first discovered their Bond.

“Marinette,” the familiar voice of Tikki spoke you, the little Kwami floating over to land on her holder’s shoulder. “You should read them. Your bond wouldn’t give you letters you don’t need.”

Marinette took a deep breath, rubbing her already sore and red eyes. “I know. But what if—“

Tikki grabbed the letter at the bottom of the pile, flying over and handing it to the pigtailed girl. She smiled gently. “Read it. No what-ifs. Just read for now, Marinette.”

The newest Ladybug sighed, but acquiesced. She sat down at her desk, and began to read. Only two months as Ladybug, and already the pressure was becoming too much.

Two hours later, she had caught up and her mood was considerably better. Jason’s life was definitely no cake walk, but his humor bled through the more concerning details and helped bring light to Marinette’s day. Slowly, one by one, she folded the letters and put them in her special locked box inside her “diary”. She tried to keep a real diary once, but quickly stopped when she realized that even “dear diary” counted as a letter and sent itself to Jason.

She pulled out one of her special pieces of stationary paper and her favorite pink gel pen. For a while she stared at the paper, out of practice after a few months of not writing to him, but eventually she was able to begin again.

Hey Jason.

It’s 2013. I’m 13. I’m pretty sure you got the point by now, it’s not hard to figure out what year I was born. I haven’t responded to any of your letters in a while, but I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s not like I know if you’re gonna get this right away anyway.

So. Uh. Things have changed. I’m only thirteen, but I feel so old you know? On the bright side, your letters really did help me learn English. I mean, you probably guessed that since I’m writing this whole thing in English.

I guess I should explain. A little. A lot has happened. I suddenly have so many responsibilities, and it’s really hard to keep up with it all. So much has changed in just a few months, I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m keeping secrets from Maman and Papan now, which hurts the most. I can’t tell them, I can’t even tell you, but I’m not used to this. I don’t like lying. I don’t even know why any of this happened in the first place, I want answers and I’m getting radio silence. It sucks. But your letters from 2005 really helped, so thanks. I just got them this past year, which is really weird because I remember that our letters time travel and I feel crazy again. But this is real. Our Bond is real, and maybe writing you will help me remember that. Help me focus a bit.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now. I’ll try to write you again sometime this week if I have time. We’ll see.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Unsure Teenager.

—*—*—*—*—*

As soon as Jason finished his letter, pretending he couldn’t feel Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all spying on him from their own spots around the living room, the papers he wrote on shimmered red and vanished. In their place, a piece of tea-colored scrapbook paper with a decorative robin-and-egg border (he would never know how she could be so obliviously on point with the designs she chose), popped into existence. He blinked, snatching it up and looking it over. His eyes widened.

“It’s only from next year,” he said aloud, for the benefit of the nosy assholes sharing the room with him. “That’s the closest any of our letters have been to one another,” and then Jason’s eyes promptly went serious as she actually read what the paper said.

“Jay?” Dick asked after the man had been silent too long. Jason grunted, his eyes briefly shimmering green before he shook it away. He took a few deep breaths, and finally responded by standing up and handing the paper over to them.

“Something happens next year that fucks with her. All of the letters I’ve gotten from her, besides that first one back when I was still Robin, were from before this. 2009 to 2010. I even got a few from last year, not that long ago. She’s always upbeat and happy and never said anything about any concerning things besides some schoolyard bullying. This isn’t at all like her. The tone is off.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve actually met her yet Jason,” Tim tried to console him, rereading the paper to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “This could be something mundane. A new school, or an issue with friends or something.”

Jason grit his teeth. “It isn’t. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is telling me it’s more than that. B, I want us to keep an eye on Paris. Something big happens next year, I know it.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Funnily enough, I agree with you. Alfred, can you get up a monitoring system? we’ll keep it automatic until next year actually hits, and then I want someone personally checking up on Paris news at least once a month. Just in case.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was a year into HawkMoth. Marinette hadn’t written a single letter to Jason, but she kept getting the ones he wrote in 2005. When those ran out, she only had two from 2006 before they suddenly leapt to 2012. She guessed that that was because of the five year gap he had mentioned in his first letter, the infamous cigarette receipt.

She sat in her chair, reading the only two 2012 letters so far, the second of which had conveniently landed on her desk that morning. The first had arrived months ago, but she gave it a reread anyway.

yo, Mari.

I’m sorry I haven't written anything else after that horrible receipt, I was getting my life sorted out. things are better now. I have three annoying brothers, by the way. I told you about Dick, I think, in my early letters. Now I have two younger brothers too, Tim and Damian. Damian is a little shit, but oddly enough I think you’d like him. Oh yeah, I’m writing this in 2012 by the way. And yes, this small notepad paper was all I had. Don’t judge me. I guess I’ll answer some questions, to make up for my lack of letters lately. More up to date than what I told you back when I was a naive little kid anyway.

Yes, I have a motorcycle. It is my baby, and I have no idea how nine-year-old you was able to guess stuff about me so accurately. I am most definitely a bad boy, and I have five different leather jackets that I love to death. I’m trying to quit smoking. It’s bad for your lungs kid, don’t follow my example there. Also, I am so fucking proud of your taste in music. I know I had no sway in it, but the fact that Jagged Stone is your favorite musician instills so much older brother pride in me you don’t even know. My dad (You remember how I said I’m adopted, right? yeah that asshole. Don’t tell him I actually love him, but he’s still an asshole), he grew up with Jagged actually. He still refers to him as Jared, it’s surreal. I will definitely let you ride on my shoulders, even if you’re an adult when we meet. I give no shits. And ice cream is mandatory. Officially. I’m making it mandatory right now.

I hope you’re doing okay when this gets to you, Mari. And keep designing, the sketches you sent me were awesome! That’s some real talent. Don’t let it go to waste if it’s something you love.

Alright, the Doofuses are still staring at me so I better go before one of them snoops and sees the sappy stuff I wrote about them. You are sworn to secrecy about it too, Cupcake. No blabbing.

Jason Todd, Finally Kinda Okay.

Marinette chuckled at that, then put it aside to read the new one from that morning. It was shorter.

Marinette!

I just read your letter from 2013, holy shit let this reach you not long after that. You remember that 2012 letter where I was sappy about my family and shit? I hope you got that one first or else this is gonna be confusing. Anyway, this was written that same day. Are You Okay? If shit gets too bad, for whatever reason, you can always contact me. I know this damn letter thing won’t let me give you a specific way to contact me, not for lack of trying damn it, but I’ll say this: Bruce Wayne isn’t hard to get a hold of. Find a way to contact him if you need my help, and I will be close behind. He knows how to contact me. No matter what, Cupcake. I don’t care if you think you’re being stupid or dramatic or whatever lies run through your head. Contact him if you need it, and I will come to help you. I promise. Being thirteen sucks, trust me I know, so let me help you.

Jason Todd, Worried As Hell.

Marinette huffed, shaking her head. She wanted to take him up on that offer, but she couldn’t. She had just met the Guardian not too long ago, and he had made it clear that she couldn’t tell anybody about being Ladybug. Not even Jason. She needed to deal with this alone.

Scenes of bloated bodies filled her mind, all the people who had died just the previous day because of Siren. She had had to swim through so many corpses. So many dead, of all ages.

She rushed out onto her balcony, taking in deep breaths of fresh air and letting the sun’s rays warm her up and slowly bring her out of the haze of burning memory. She was fourteen already. She could handle this. Her childhood had died the moment she had been given the Earrings, ripped away from her too early. Her old self had died. Now she was Ladybug, she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she was responsible for the fate of even more than just Paris. She couldn’t let herself fall. Not now, not ever.

The loud roaring of a motorcycle made her jump, and she ran to her railing just in time to see a gorgeous black and red bike come to a tire-screeching halt on the street right under her. The biker, she could tell he was large and covered head to toe in corded muscle even from her spot high above his head, slowly took off his helmet. Black hair with stark white bangs came into view, and startlingly deep blue eyes met hers. Marinette’s breath hitched; it was him. She could tell, his mere eye contact made her feel safe and warm and like… like home had found her. He gave her a roguish grin.

“Come on, Cupcake! I believe I promised you a shoulder ride and ice cream. And you gotta keep me from beating a certain old man into a bloody pulp!”

He knew. Marinette smiled widely, a laugh tearing itself from her throat. Hysteric, overjoyed, free. He knew, and it was okay. She didn’t even have to tell him. She took a few steps back, and then vaulted straight over her railing.

“Catch!”

Jason threw his helmet to the side, running forward just in time for her to land safely in his arms. He glared down at her, but his eyes held no heat. “That was incredibly reckless. I shouldn't be proud, but I am. Don’t do that ever again.”

Marinette giggled. “No promises.”

Jason set her down, picking up his helmet before opening the storage on his bike and tossing her a smaller, pink one. “Sorry it took so long. I wanted to come last year, as soon as I figured out what had made you send that concerning letter, but I was told that I would be an instant Akuma. But after what happened yesterday…” Jason shook his head solemnly. “I knew you’d need a break. Come on, Gotham actually has some amazing ice cream.”

“How are we gonna get to Gotham right away? how did you..?”

Marinette paused, Jason keeping his motorcycle’s storage open just long enough for her to see his Red Hood helmet.

“We got portals for that,” he responded nonchalantly, nobody was nearby to overhear anyway. Marinette looked up when he closed the storage compartment, putting her helmet on.

“Well. Then I’m glad you actually took my rant on the Gotham vigilantes to heart and used my designs, because your old mask was disgustingly ugly.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and waited until she was behind him on the bike before revving it and replying;

“Trust me, I know your feelings on it. Demon Spawn and Replacement teamed up to steal that letter and made copies. Now one is pinned to the fridge and I spent another several hours cleaning up the ones they posted over every inch of my apartment walls.”

“... I approve.”

#ml x dc #maribat #marinette #jasonette #platonic jasonette #mlb x dc #marinette dupain cheng #soulmate au #oneshot #Maribat 2020

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sevinss · 4 years ago

Photo

I LIVE THEREFOR UPDATE TIME

Yes it is quite late but I will be reblogging this on the morning and the next few days so most of my active followers sees it!

Well first of all. The past 3-4 month was one hell-hole. Loads os assigments to finish, being informed in April that we have to finish our thesis work (i worked in a team) until may 4th not june, completly rewamp and finish the thesis work until may 11th (the principal was nice enough to give us 1 more week). I had a lot of sleepless nights, lot of sketch that i couldn’t finish, lot of anger, sadness i had to hold (since some personal life things also came up). So yeah, mostly why i didn’t post too much is because i was too busy with these.

But it’s over. It’s past may 11th and i submited my team thesis work and we are finished. I learned a lot during this time, both my artstyle and way of doing my work has improved. But i also learned a very painfull yet true thing about myself as an artist

I don’t want to animate nor draw for a living...

Now before any panics (probably not a lot of people XD), let me explain. I do not want to learn graphics, nor character designing nor illustration nor animation as a main job. Working in a team made me realise that im an easly angerable person if things don’t go the way i hoped it would, i forget things easly and i have a roller coaster of a mood waves for drawing. Yet...

Drawing is my passion. It is what kept me alive for this long, it is what helped me find people who dare a lot to me, and those who i lost, and those who i still have and maybe people who also count me dare to themselfs. It is what truly gives me joy, to draw friends characters, or just a random person’s character because i liked the design or my own characters...

So some changes are coming to my life. Drawing will be a hobby for now, not a main direction to build a future myself, it is my joy, but not my future to live a life money and carrier wise but rather to be here, with you guys. Im not a big person, i dont make world changing art, but it warms my heart every time i see a regular person liking my post, heck i dont care if they even like it, if somehow i know they saw it and liked it im happy.

Thats the most important thing i learned. Appriciate what i already have and not what i could. I have you all, small group of friends and regular comebyers who keep my posts somewhat active TwT.

So thank you

As for the future. I dont know. I planned to redraw the Bridge Keeper complitly, since i started it a while ago and i doesnt like how past Sev did the work so i will fix some stuffs. Will i be more active? I dont know... Im planning to learn IT managment since i have a thing for PCs and IT so i could get a job but for now, lets just hope ^w^ Again thank you everyone who patiently waited here for me and was here when i sometimes popped out of the shadow. Hopefully i can repay you all!

Big hugs!

#sevinss #post #small life update #*hugs*

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alicenpai · 4 years ago

Text

ask: some thoughts on finding “style”

ANOTHER ANSWER THAT WAS TOO LONG FOR CURIOUS CAT, I’VE ETERNALIZED IT ON TUMBLR!

anon asked, “Hi I love the way you stylize characters! I constantly am experimenting with different drawing styles, I really want to find a style im happy with but I just cant seem to find something that sticks. Id like to know Is this a normal part of finding a style? did you experience something similar to get to your current style? sorry if these questions are kinda weird but thank you if you do answer!“

hi anon! I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask bc all of my work looks .. vastly different.. but thank you I'm trying to solidify my look a lil more and go through an upheaval this summer ^^;

edit oct 2021: i attached an image here to display all of the different “styles” i work in (and also for visual appeal, otherwise this post is 100% text)

if you came here looking for tips on how to draw characters in your style, while keeping likeness.. i’m sorry if i misinterpreted the question GDHDGJDFJDGJ maybe i will write on that another day if people are interested? apticho wrote some really good stuff here in the meantime ^^ (snippet above)

--- ---

// part 1: gathering inspiration

hi anon, that's totally normal! it's okay to go through a lot of different looks in your art, both in a short or long period of time. it’s also perfectly alright to be unsure and insecure about your art/style. some people know where they want to go from the get go, but be patient, and i know if youre a younger artist, it’s easy to be envious of others who seem to have a consistent look throughout their work. I know I did!! i still do!!

i’m going to be talking about my ideas about style and content below.

edit oct 2021: one of the easiest things that will help you build a style is to just gather inspiration material. that’s it! keep a separate insp/reblog tumblr blog, save images on your phone/computer (keep it organized in folders as much as possible! i know it can be hard haha...), make moodboards formore ambitious drawings. or just make moodboards for fun. do all of these things or only do 1, it doesn’t matter.

I like to archive all/most of the art that I like. I know pinterest is awful for many reasons, but more often than not I find some really good artists through there (and i follow them too!). I’m a messy person by nature, so I like the way you can organize content on there, esp with subfolders. I label folders like “character design, anime styles i like, cartoon/visdev styles i like, lighting, photos of faces, pose reference” etc.

edit oct 2021: i also like to keep folders of the artists i like on my phone (easy access compared to computer..). consider what you like about their style. is it the way they draw eyes? the colour and light? their line weight? character interaction? dynamic poses? angst? all of these things combined come together to create a “style”.

// part 2: analyzing artists

both the LOOK and the CONTENT are important factors in one’s own style. someone else may draw using the same brushes etc like me, but unless they have the same personal values, you can tell who’s who. For example, they might draw more action-y poses, something im not good at. This is a bit controversial but whenever there are certain popular artists in certain circles, a lot of people may be inspired by them, and you can see a lot of the popular artist’s work in their fans! it can be both a good or a bad thing - take what you will. Anyways, another example: a lot of artists back in the golden age of American illustration (late 1800s to mid 1900s) drew quite similarly. let’s look at some examples to pick out what sets them apart. I used some really distinct examples but you can apply this idea for other artists too.

Here’s Norman Rockwell. He’s quite well known and I’m sure you’ve seen some of his art if you live in the western hemisphere, he was commissioned for a lot of magazines and other places. style: I would personally characterize his work as realistic and painterly. content: heavily focused on interaction and expression - sometimes a bit funny - but these are expressions that feel completely natural, and dont fall into the uncanny valley. This is what differentiates his art from other golden age artists, and his work is unique IMO, even if it’s realistic in nature.

Here’s Earl Oliver Hurst. style: His work is cartoony, but not flat, bold black ink, and has a really great sense of the “line of action”. content: he drew a lot of pretty men and women (probably because they were commissioned for magazines and advertisements), and they’re usually doing recreational activities like sports or posing in fashion shoots. I love his work and I think more people should know about him!! definitely in my top 10.

Here’s Mead Schaeffer. style: His work is moody, the colour palettes can range from monochromatic to a full palette, and with an amazing sense of depth, light, and shadow. content: he usually draws people in shadow, and their full facial features may not even be visible, he uses shadow to only indicate facial features are present - what a master! His work is also very dramatic; both men and women are in perilous situations in his work. The sense of light and shadow go hand in hand with the content that he depicts.

other noteworthy names: Dean Cornwell, J.C. Leyendecker, Thomas Blackshear (absolutely recommend him!), female illustrators are hard to come by but here is a list!

a contemporary artist example:

This fire emblem awakening drawing by katy/inktho (wonder if reposting is OK for educational purposes?). style: the family atmosphere is heightened by the soft, neutral light, and the warm, rustic, homely decor. i would characterize this artist’s style as warm, and they excel at drawing character expressions and interaction. content: This drawing speaks a lot to me - even though I've only played a bit of FE:A, I can really feel the family bond between these characters. The interaction feels natural, lighthearted, and playful. I think that's the power of telling stories in your art, if it's told well, people will enjoy it no matter if they know the characters or not.

Moving on... I know i share this drawing all the time. I know! but i wanted to share the moodboard we were required (i think?) to post in the zine discord server. as you can see there’s both the LOOK that i focused on, as well as reference for the CONTENT (foliage + clothing). my vision for this 2 page spread was “victorian greenhouse fashion spread”. the look and the content are 2 things came together to form this “style”.

// part 3: art you like vs the art you want to draw

some artists i look up to: rei_17, yoneyama mai, mochizuki jun, ask, emmmerald, xanthe bouma, sara kipin, apticho, just to name a few.

another note for reference material: moving further, there's certainly a difference between art you enjoy, and art that you wanna draw. it’s okay to have a disconnect between those two things! art is broad and you can’t cover the entire spectrum. it’s okay if you see an artist with a broader range than you. but they similarly can’t cover everything either, they’re also human.

for me, I like a lot of different art styles, ranging from like, the baroque period, to the mid 20th century golden age of american illustration, UPA cartoons, french comics, to gritty 80s, 90s, 00s anime. however, I wouldn't say I draw like any of them. there are so many drawings I see where I go "wow I want to paint like that!" or "I want to do lineart like that!" or "I want to do lineless like that!" ..... I think my work ends up looking more like a person who grew up with both anime and western cartoon influences and mixed them together.

but I think eventually I drove myself nuts !!! thinking that I want to draw like every artist whose work popped up on my feed. and on top of that, I think I became a lil unhinged when I focused too much on "fandom" in the past. I talked to a few friends about this, and we all agreed we had a few favourite artists who we love, no matter what they draw.

// part 4: style vs content (how this applies to my own work)

*instead of focusing on the "look" or "style" of my work, currently I'm focusing more on "content" - try to find out what kind of TOPICS you want to draw FIRST, and I believe that the style you choose will fall in place!! right now I want to try my hand at depicting character interaction, and the scene/world they live in - so, telling stories. i’m moving away from the cartoony, flat styles i sometimes worked in during my first 2 years of animation school. now that i’m older, i feel that i want to involve more dimension in my art, and the flatter styles, although fun, just don’t cut it for me anymore.

i also am stepping a bit away from my lineless work, if you look at the image below, there are a lot of details that got lost from the sketch -> local colours -> final with relative colours. it’s a style i worked in a lot, but over time i felt increasingly frustrated that i could not depict emotions as clearly. my lineless work has a strong focus on aesthetics, but i want to focus more on facial expressions, body language, and most importantly, atmosphere, moving forward. as i focused more on those things, i naturally went back to my more anime style.

this is the kind of content i want to get better at, and by narrowing down my content, the style i wish to work in falls in place!!

some examples of old stuff VS where my work looks a bit more anime or comic influenced as of late:

^ 2020 portfolio work (OC)

^ 2018 (OC)

2018 (ace attorney)

2021 (pandora hearts)

2021 (ace attorney)

moral of the story: find your content first, then your style will fall in place.

i don’t really have any closing thoughts other than i hope that can help inspire you!!

#ask #anonymous #tutorial #edits in oct 2021 #made some things more cohesive and added some new thoughts

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago

Note

How would the Romanians react to an autistic person (I am autistic)

DISCLAIMER: This is a big one and I will deem sensitive. It should be said that I am not diagnosed with Autism but do have people in my life with the condition. Therefore, I very much might get something wrong and/or have answered this with my own personal knowledge and experience. I've also used a quick Google search once or twice. NONE OF THIS CONTENT is to upset or offend anyone but will be mentioning sensitive topics such as intolerance within historical era's.

So these two have almost no experience with humans. Unless you want to include feeding on them until death.

Plus their era isn't going to help them.

It depends on how far on the spectrum the human is in terms of if it's their are different mannerisms and behaviour. The Romanians will pick up on them immediately considering it odd or even a human trying to be rude. Unless someone tells them about autism, they won't have a clue about even the existence of the condition. It will have to be explained that autism hasn't become more common recently, it wasn't rare even in their time. Society was simply intolerable of those behaviours and deemed a person incapable or flawed in those times.

If Autism is explained to them they'll learn that these individuals with the condition aren't heartless, rude or lacking empathy. Therefore, anything they say and do in the Romanians company isn't insolence. They'd have to be told that those with autism can be confused by social signals like facial expression, body language and tone of voice. That's important because those without such conditions are highly dependent on those signals. The Romanians being a classic example in such dependency.

The next is to clarify that it isn't something to be cured. They very likely know that for themselves given the explanation they have been provided. It comes into the newer concept for them that everyone has their own specific set of needs and sometimes those fulfilled by society standards aren't enough. It's really getting them out of the mindset they grew up with that they had to adapt to survive in their own society and therefore, 'change to be like everyone else and their socially acceptable expectations'. It may be alarming to the Romanians at how flexible so society is today. For example it wasn't too far away in history that left handed people were getting extreme harmful methods by education and adults in general to be right handed instead. Being left handed was considered almost evil seemingly because the word 'left' derives from the Anglo-Saxon word 'lyft' which meant weak. Whilst such an example is far beyond their time to begin with, you can imagine how societies progression is like a stranger to what they were accustomed to.

It might be best for them to grasp the condition by using more relatable examples at first. Such as socializing within children. Even not having have something such as Autism, some children prefer to be on their own and actively avoid being around a lot of people at the same time. We'd deem them as loners, introverted or shy. Whilst there are other children who are very extroverted, love making friends and take part in games and playing with others around them. We'd deem them social butterflies. Both of these are possible with autism. There are many who like to make friends and be around others just as much as there are those who'd rather be alone and enjoy their own company. This would definitely illustrate a clearer picture for the two. They'd recall those in their coven who fit such descriptions, those who were incredibly sociable whilst there were others who sought and enjoyed solitude. Of course it would be clear that whilst the example was children, it could be said the same for adults. So much so, they'd pick that up on their own without the promoting.

This next one is the big one. The big hurdle that has been around since civilization or whatever you'd like to deem...I'd say even before the enlightenment era. This biggest myth there is about Autism is that those diagnosed cannot learn. This is absolutely not true. The fault history has had and to some extent still has today is that if you don't fit the exact standards of what the education system or society seems ideal then you must be incapable of learning. This is a load of shit. Of course, through no fault of their own, the Romanians would immediately think this but no-no, we're getting educated today boys. As mentioned before, everyone has individualistic needs for them specifically. We can't blame the Romanians when they came from a society that tossed any kind of individualism to the side but we're gonna help them out. It's the same way. Those with autism most certainly can learn. Some, depending on the severity, need a different form of teaching methods and more time to really learn what is being taught. Some people pick things up better than others but we don't determine we shouldn't teach someone who's falling behind. As long as someone knows how to teach that specific person with a style tailored to them, the person will very much learn. However such time and effort wasn't given back in their era. So this is a whole other thing to them. The human race has moved past the demand someone knows something. We've progressed from being violent/hurting children to get a point across.

They'd greatly appreciate how refined those with Autism could be. Learning, skills and talent aren't just in what you can recite out of a textbook after all! Hearing that there are those who aren't so good with maths or languages but excell at drawing? They love it. If you have a talent then you should nurture it. The Romanians can't fault anyone for that. An example would be the man who inspired the film 'Rain Man' Kim Peek. From what I remember of psychology. Kim Peek had a photographic memory and could remember things like pages upon pages of a phone book. Highly intelligent stuff but whilst at a restaurant and told he was speaking too loud, without fail he'd slump into his seat, sliding down so that he appeared smaller in attempt to lower his voice. They'd be fascinated but you'd have to remind them that not everyone who has Autism displays such apparent behaviours. There are many who are on the spectrum and no one would have guessed upon meeting them.

So there is a lot of learning on their part but they would pick up very easily that those with Autism are very much like the rest of the population. They might act a little different sometimes or miss a social cue every now and then that leads to a very confusing encounter but that doesn't make them any less of a vibrant personality with likes and dislikes like everyone else who also deals with good days and bad days like everyone else. Whilst being Autistic is a part of being who someone is- that doesn't mean they won't have difficulty sometimes. The Romanians would be very sympathetic to that, recognising how confusing some daily situations can be to really grasp, especially when having a bad day.

They'd want to know if those with Autism consider it to be suffering constantly, a constant doom and gloom. They'll be relieved to hear it most certainly isn't! It isn't like suffering from an illness, it's living with something that's just a part of who you are and sometimes like everyone else, challenges will be faced.

Now that we've got the whole teach-the-Romanians segment let's pretend they know about Autism and their reaction upon meeting someone with Autism for the first time. They're watching every miniscule movement. They're already very good judges of character and will do their best to try and pick up on the expressions and movements of the person to make sure they aren't crossing any lines. They're very polite but are much more patient, ensuring the person is aware that their is no expectations. They don't need to worry if they make a mistake as they've likely already picked up that the person meant well. If anything they'll be more patient and give benefit of the doubt.

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chokefriends · 4 years ago

Text

Anatomy model Eustass Kid

By @godims0tired ♡ for my fic Life Drawing

Rating: E

Warnings: None

Characters & ships: Eustass Kid / Trafalgar Law

Word count: 2978

Summary: Law practices his anatomical drawing with Kidd as his subject. With his devil fruit abilities he can see right inside him.

Kidd finds this insanely romantic.

~~~

Read on Ao3 or below the cut. I know it's an older fic by now but I havent posted it here before so here!

~~~

Kidd jerked into full awareness as he lay sprawled in his bed. He checked around himself without moving and sensed a second heartbeat in the room, near enough that the dim echoes of its electrical impulses lapped at his skin like waves. Slow and calm. Just watching then; not yet poised to attack…

There were eyes on him.

It took him a moment to remember that the other heartbeat was supposed to be there. He wasn't used to having bedmates stay overnight.

Red eyes slid open and found keen grey ones fixed on him.

“The fuck you staring at.”

“You, idiot.”

The big redheaded sprawl snorted crassly at that and flopped over, returning the stare with sleepy menace.

Law smirked. He was wedged sideways in one of the heavy carved armchairs in Kidd's quarters, loosely wrapped in a sheet and busily scritch scritching in a large book. His gaze flicked from page to Kidd and back.

Kidd prodded him, “See something you want, Trafalgar? Come over here and take it.”

His limbs were still all loose and languid from when they'd fucked a couple hours before, but Kidd could stand to go another round. Especially with the sharp, evaluating looks Law was throwing him right now.

“Come on, c'mere.”

“Later. Go back to sleep, Eustass-ya.” The pen bobbed.

“Don’ wanna. What are you doing still up?”

“Just passing the time until my brain decides to let me fall asleep.” Law's insomniac woes again.

“A good fuck will do that for you. Lemme do the ligature thing and you'll be out like bam .” Kidd offered generously.

“Heheh. Thanks but oxygen deprivation is not the kind of sleep aid I need.”

“Your loss.”

Kidd burrowed into his cluster of satiny pillows with a sigh. For an infamously brutal pirate captain he sure liked his little extravagances. The whole room was draped with horribly clashing bits of luxurious fabrics and furs, and the odd shiny sharp thing. The manic magpie whims of past raids.

“Nah, that's no good,” Law recrossed long legs over the chair’s arm, well cushioned with some spotted pelt. “Go back to where you were a second ago.”

“Are you…? What, taking notes on me? Writing an ode to the sinful curve of my flawless ass?”

“Something like that. I'm adding my own anatomical diagrams to this medical text. It’s my favourite for reference material but the illustrations are scanty and kinda shit -- it's like they've never dissected anyone before.”

“Nice. Add a diagram of these.” Kidd kicked up a leg.

“Hah. I'm nowhere near the section on genital abnormalities, but I'll look you up when I get there. Turn on your side again, I was doing upper body musculature.”

“Ooo. I got lots of that, yeah.” Kidd complied.

The lamplight was flickering low behind Law. Kidd could see him and his book backlit dimly, the small hairs on his leanly muscled shoulders aglow like a nimbus. Tinged subtly blue.

Wait, blue?

“Do you have a Room up?”

“Yeah, so I can scan down and see the actual anatomical stuff.”

“Huh. That's handy. You don't even have to dissect anyone.”

“Yeah but it’s easier to see everything if you physically open someone up. You can isolate the individual structures that way.” Law peeked overtop of the book. “And it's more fun to do it the old-fashioned way, heh…”

Kidd gave a low laugh. Law wasn't even joking, he knew. He imagined waking up one night like this, to find some part of him delicately splayed open and the dark haired doctor sketching away with the same expression. If Law used his devil fruit power he could do it painlessly and bloodlessly, without even waking him. Kidd had seen him sever heads away from bodies completely within that blue sphere, both pieces still functioning as one. He’d never been the subject of that eerie power himself, though.

He didn’t think so, anyway.

Law untangled himself from chair and sheet, and finally came over to join him on the bed. Kidd was gifted briefly with a full view of the lithe figure. His recent handiwork was beginning to show in the mottling that ran up either thigh and the bites framing his chest tattoos.

The long limbs refolded next to him. “Stay there, I wanna do the neck muscles now.”

“Lemme see that first.”

“Don't be grabby,” Law complained, but gave up the book.

“Holy fuck.” Kidd flipped through studies of his back, shoulders, hands. “So that's how I look without skin, huh.”

He had been expecting more… yeah. Skin.

“I did say I was drawing the muscles.”

“And my bones and everything.”

“Yeah. Good skeletal structure too. Several odd calluses where breaks didn't quite set right, though.”

“You can see all of that?”

“Yeah, of course. Like I said, I can scan down to any level. Though it helps if I know already the shape of what I'm looking for.”

Something about the drawings was just so Law. The lines so precise, so sharp, somehow impatient. A little obsessive and overworked on certain details, like the hollow between his collar bones and the knobbly crook of his index finger, broken at least twice. Many practice studies on loose sheets of paper showed that Law had been trying to get these parts just right.

It occurred to Kidd that these weren't just anatomical studies using him as a model -- these were him.

Jotted notes crowded around the practice studies, but Law grabbed the book back before Kidd could read them properly.

“Trafalgar. Does that seriously say I have 8.2 litres of blood in me.”

“Nevermind that. Just an interesting fact. You have a lot of blood.”

Kidd stole another peek as Law held him off. “And that I have a grip strength of 68 kilograms in my right hand?”

“At least. That’s not something I can see; that's from uh, experience.”

Kidd leaned back with his hands laced behind his head to look at Law. “One might misinterpret this as a target profile of some kind.” Because that's exactly what it was -- a detailed map of Kidd’s strongest, and weakest points.

“Whoa, your blood pressure’s spiking.” Law grinned with more teeth than usual and leaned in to hover over him.

“Now you're just showing off,” Kidd complained.

“Does this disturb you?”

That wasn't exactly the feeling that was spreading through him, no. Or not entirely, anyway. Kidd just cracked his neck, stretching it out for Law's benefit, and raised an eyebrow.

“So you wanted some neck action? It's all yours.”

Law seemed to like the sound of that. He angled Kidd’s head away and up with a gentle press of fingers, so the ear and neck were exposed to him.

Kidd watched his shadow flicker on the opposite wall and listened to the pen scratch across paper. The undulating magnetic field of Law’s heart was so close now, washing over him. His own blood thudded in his ears, senses all on high alert from holding himself in this vulnerable position.

He could be fuckin patient. Sometimes. Well… when he had all of Law’s attention focused on him like this, he’d stay still forever. He could feel the sharp eyes on him like a touch. His own eyes started to wander back over…

He jumped a little when Law did touch him, nudging him back into place. And then trailing fingers over the mound behind his ear.

“Sternocleidomastoid,” Law mouthed to himself. “Levator scapulae…” The hand travelled down to his collarbone and rested there lightly, his thumb tracing little circles.

It was so calm. And strange. Rare for the reserved doctor to be so casually intimate. Even while they were fucking, touch was more like a struggle, hands straining against and into each other. Kidd was rough without even trying, but it was Law who seemed to flinch from any contact not resembling combat. Or medical care. Such structured things. He’d objected -- vehemently -- to being “pawed at” and “pet like a lap dog” often enough. As though anything less than bruising force would hurt more.

He was so guarded. It made Kidd greedy.

“You're hard, you know,” Law breathed onto his neck.

“Yeah I'm aware.”

“Heh.”

Tattooed fingers ran along Kidd’s side, over the tight bands hugging the ribs (“Serratus anterior…”), and pinpricks rose in their wake. Kidd found himself arching up against the hand desperately.

“Ah, fuck, Trafalgar…”

“Mhm,” Law responded, distracted. Or pretending to be. He followed a particular cord of muscle down Kidd’s powerful thigh with his thumb. “Sartorius. Gracilis.”

“Dick.”

“No that's not a muscle, Eustass-ya.”

“Oh for the love of GOD.”

Law made a sound that was probably a muffled laugh. “Hold still. I'm doing anatomical studies.”

“Oh is that what we're doing.”

“Obviously.”

“Where's the book.”

“It's…” Law looked around for a minute. “On the floor.”

Kidd covered his face with his hands and just laughed. Law sighed dramatically.

“Well. Guess I gotta start from the top again.”

---

Law could be a pushy bastard when he topped. But he kept up the slow, focused treatment this time and it was driving Kidd fucking insane.

“I'm gonna flip this the fuck around and pound you inside out if it takes any longer.” Kidd growled from under his arm, slung across his face.

This was as close as he could get to actually asking for it. Here he was laid out, so open and ready, core clenching and unclenching. Needing to be fucked, to have hands on him, in him, whatever. All of it.

“Nah you're not.” Law countered smugly.

“F-uck,” was all Kidd could come up with when a third finger twisted into his slicked up hole. His body tensed and spasmed before yielding itself open.

By the time Law was actually fucking him, Kidd had nearly popped a fucking vein.

Law pushed in slowly, slowly. Until they were pressed together as tight as they could go, breath hot on each other's faces.

“Shit, Tr--ahh…”

“Eustass-ya…”

He was done with all the slow shit. Kidd was a shifting mass of need under him and honestly, he was even more worked up. He dragged almost all the way out only to grind back in hard, and the tight body jolted.

“Aw fuck, yeah…”

Law braced his weight on his arms, pressing Kidd’s hips into the bed. He watched the muscles bunch beneath him with each impact, Kidd straining to meet him. Watched through skin so pale it was translucent, glowing and rippling.

Kidd still wasn't entirely sure what to make of that gaze. All hunger and splitting seams, open lips and ragged breath.

He quirked up one corner of a mocking mouth.

“The fuck’re you-- ah --staring at?”

Law didn't answer for a moment. Under Kidd's skin it was like… layers of red ribbons, wrapping him up. The ribbons all pulling and straining against each other when Kidd moved (when Law moved in him), like something inside was trying to burst out. Under them, ribs curving -- jealous fingers. Wetly clinging membranes. Then under that…

“Your heart. It's…”

Their bodies collided, beaded with sweat. Harder. More. Law could see, hear Kidd's heart beating faster as he picked up his pace. God, he could feel it in his palms. In his dick. Beating so strong it echoed in his ears, drowning out his own.

“Fucking perfect. It's perfect.”

Kidd laughed breathlessly. His heart. What the hell. “...You wanna get your hands on that too?”

Law did.

He wanted to grip it, feel it flutter, make it burst …

… What if I could? he thought. He slowed, thinking, and spread a hand over Kidd’s breastbone. Not just to incapacitate through dismemberment, but to cut a piece from the whole, one vital piece…

Kidd watched the pensive eyes flicker and gave him a swift jab of encouragement with his heel.

“You'll just have to get hold of it the old fashioned way. Hahahaaa…”

“Hah.” Law shook himself from his distracted state. He picked up a pace that was slower than before, though not less jarring. “Like… I should court you or like I should cut you open?”

“Whichever ...ah ... But you should fuckin get me off first.” Kidd guided the tattooed hand down from his chest to his dripping cock, and Law obliged, finally.

They fucked with foreheads pressed together and grips slipping on sweat slick skin. Kidd thought of Law digging his hands right into his chest and came in jerking starts like it was being beaten out of him, legs clamped tight around him. Skin thrumming with the echoes of hands and heartbeat.

---

Kidd flipped through the last few drawings with some undefinable flutter in his gut.

“That's some shit you won't see in any other textbook.”

“Mhm.” Law allowed himself to press against Kidd just slightly as they lay sprawled out, sweat drying in the cool air. He was in a fuckin good mood, kinda dazed.

“I do look damn good without skin, I'll say that much.”

“Heh. And with. You can see the suprasternal notch really clearly even under the skin, it's nice. I fuckin love all of that. That area.”

Kidd choked a little but Law didn't seem to realize what he'd said. And that's not even what he meant anyway, Kidd told himself.

But the whole thing kinda was the same as a confession, at least as far as Law went. The drawings, as vaguely threatening as they were, betrayed an intimate preoccupation with Kidd's finer points. Maybe even admiration. Definitely possessiveness. Need.

“I wanna do you too.”

Law grinned, “Already?”

“Not that, idiot. Draw you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

“Well, draft. I can draft things -- just basic. For engineering stuff on the ship, mostly.”

“Oh, nice!” Law bounced up to get fresh paper from the floor by the chair. “How does one usually draft stuff? Don’t you need a triangle thing? Compasses, etcetera?”

“Maybe. I’ll just make an outline for now.”

Law seemed right into this whole idea. “Draw me like one of your machines, Eustass-ya.” He draped himself dramatically across the bed and Kidd shoved him with a grin.

“How do you want me, though.”

Kidd appreciated that question for a moment.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I don’t know how to draw from life -- like perspective or anything. So it’s gonna be pretty diagrammatic. I just need a few details and some numbers.”

“Like specifications? How to build a Trafalgar?”

“Yeah, so I can make another if this one breaks.”

That made him laugh.

“Okay lie out flat and lemme measure you.”

“With what measuring tools?”

“I'll just eyeball it,” Kidd insisted.

This turned out to mean that he was going to get his hands all over him, which Law supposed was fair. He tensed and shied but stayed mostly still, letting Kidd explore his dimensions and proportions. Pages filled up with ratios and vectors of movement. Things got off track again around when Kidd was testing the rotation arc of his arms and quickly became vicious rutting. Light, skimming hands could become crushing ones so quickly.

Anyway, turned out that Law could get off while his arms were being hyperextended behind his back. Pretty effectively, in fact.

After, when they were laid out next to each other once again, and Law’s breaths were finally lengthening into sleep, Kidd dared to try another light touch. Without their thin pretense of functionality this time -- just want. He smoothed a hand over all the tattoos he'd taken such careful note of earlier. A large heart on his chest with a grinning skull similar to his Jolly Roger. Hearts on his shoulders. Kidd’s fingerprints blooming dark purple on his upper arms.

Sixty-eight kilograms of pressure and Law hadn't made a sound, but a feather touch over the marks and a quiet ah pushed past his lips.

“Whose emblem is that tattoo?”

Law mumbled with his eyes closed, “Someone who died. Long time ago.”

“Someone…” Kidd repeated to himself, but didn't probe. “You going to get any more?”

“Nah.” His breath stuttered slightly when Kidd trailed knuckles down his jaw. “I just like… your marks…”

He fell asleep with Kidd's lips against the shell of his ear.

---

A roll of broadsheet tied with string arrived by carrier gull when Law was back on his sub some days later. He stole away to his cluttered quarters and spread the roll out on the bed.

Inside the broadsheet was a large-format technical drawing.

There were three flat outlines of Law: front, back, side. All heavily marked out in blunt pencil, all surrounded by arcs and lines, dotted and solid, indicating measurements and angles of motion. The insides of the outlines were empty except for perfectly to scale renderings of his tattoos.

#kidlaw #trafalgar law #eustass kid #fanart #thank you so much dude i really mean it!#its exactly how I imagined laws drawing style to be ♡

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peydawgz · 4 years ago

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Could you do Chucky, both original and Buddi, and any other slashers of your choosing, with a digital artist s/o? Specifically, them watching their s/o get frustrated when it crashes or gets accidentally deleted, corrupted files, that magic. Maybe even closing the window himself for attention, only to accidentally delete all of their progress?

(I’m sorry I’m super late on this one; I’ve been gone for quite a while huh? I’m gonna get through some of these requests because I’m feelin the slasher love with halloween season coming around the corner! So I’m back!! This ask is rlly inspiring me bc I’ve been going through this rn :( my BRAND NEW tablet keeps glitching and fucking up my art.)

Digital Artist x Various Slashers (Buddi! Chucky, 88′ Chucky, Michael Myers)

Buddi! Chucky

One hand on the keyboard, the other gripping your pen stylus tightly, you began to get frustrated with your current art piece. A mix of unmotivation, anger, and your tablet keeps crashing was all adding to your growing frustration. Your Buddi doll, on the other hand, was sitting patiently beside you up on your desk, watching you get angrier and angrier. Was your computer making you upset? You looked like you were on the verge of tears because of it! “When can we play again?” Chucky asked politely, a creepy little smile appearing on his face. “I- I don’t know, Chucky! Look, I’m kind of busy right now.” You exclaimed as your computer decided to erase your entire drawing once again. With your angry response, Chucky looked down sadly, folding his little hands in his lap. Your computer seemed to be making you very upset, and so he decided to take it into his own hands; you should stop drawing and pay attention to him! He usually makes you happy, right? Chucky was connected to all of your devices, including your Kaslan computer. He raised his finger, and with it, your computer did a hard shut down, turning off your tablet and your computer with it. That did not seem to make you happy like he thought. Not at all. Instead, you threw your hands up in anger and shoved your tablet onto your keyboard and put your head in your hands. “FUCK! I can’t do ANYTHING!” You yelled into your palms. Chucky crawled up into your lap, tugging at your shirt. “You can play with me?” He suggested innocently. “Chucky, did you...?” You started, looking from him to the computer. He looked down with guilt. “I thought it would make you happy...” He mumbled. You saw his intentions were at least good, even if they were interrupting your illustration. Maybe you did need to take a break. The files were deleted, but your progress didn’t come too far anyways. It was alright, you could restart. You were only on the sketch anyways. “Alright, Chucky, we can play now. I have to get back to work soon, though, okay? No more shutting my stuff down, please. You were lucky this time, but that’s very important to me.” You set him down and held his hand, leading him to your room to get dressed. You took him to get a new outfit from Zedmart and let him pick out a new accessory. In return, he suggested ice cream to cheer you up!

88′ Chucky

Chucky is very... forceful with his actions. As you sit there at your desk, fists clenched and jaw tightened, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for you. Your art was quite important to you, and it didn’t seem to be going right at the moment. You were working on a commission, and couldn’t seem to be able to open up the file you saved from the day before. That was your lineart and base coloring- what the hell were you gonna do if you couldn’t get it open? You were too stubborn to just start over again. Chucky came up behind you. “Look, babe, if you can’t get it working then just let it go. Why don’t we do something else?” He said suggestively. “Maybe later. This is important.” You mumbled, turning away from him and violently clicking on the file, even though many messages popped up saying there was an error. “I’m just saying that if you-” Chucky started, trying to be calm but he was already beginning to get stubborn with you. “I said later.” You just grumbled, interrupting him. “Well, if you’re gonna be like that.” He said to himself, and pushed a chair to the edge of the desk. You were too sucked into your own issue that you didn’t notice him. Chucky walked over the desk and pressed the delete button, then closed the top laptop- facing you. “Look- I’ve tried to be patient, but you gotta chill out! Maybe some alone time with me...?” He leaned close, being very evocative. You pushed your palm into his face, pushing him back. “You just fucking deleted all of my shit!” You said, face red with anger. “Well, it wasn’t opening anyways! Just start over it’s not that hard, right? You’re an artist, it can’t be that fucking hard!” He raised his voice at you, and you flinched. “Chucky, it doesn’t work like that, I-” You looked down and spaced out, tears forming in your eyes. Chucky immediately felt bad about raising his voice at you. “Hey, babe, I’m sorry... I didn’t know...” You started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s gonna be alright.” He crawled into your lap and pushed your hair from your face. “You’re the best artist I know! I know ya can do it again, even better this time!” He said, giving you a gentle rub on the shoulder. “Maybe first, let’s take a break. I- We don’t gotta do anything like that, let’s just hang out and cuddle?” He suggested, knowing he hated it but trying to make you feel better nonetheless. You gave him a little smile. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I do need a break. But don’t try that funny shit again with me!” You glared at him, and your evening was full of comforting snuggles, and he even tried to make you tea/coffee afterwards while you draw!

Michael Myers

Michael has no patience. He does everything on his own time and nobody gets in his way. So when he was in the mood for attention and you were doing something else; he was not going to have it. You sat there, angry that your computer kept crashing and restarting, causing your progress to be deleted each time. It was an old laptop, you probably needed a new one. You were trying to finish the sketch, but your laptop just wasn’t feeling up to it today whatsoever. Michael walked up behind you, and let out a huff of air, letting you know that he was home. “Hello, darling. I’m a little busy right now.” You murmured, getting upset again as you couldn’t open the application you draw on. Michael watched behind you inquisitively for a moment, catching onto what was making you angry. He placed his chin on top of your head, letting out another huff. “Hun, I’m not really in the mood.” You replied, and that made him upset. Not in the mood? You were his! You couldn’t just not be in the mood for giving him attention! He stood up straight and continued to hover around you, watching you for another five minutes, giving you the time to change your mind. When you continued, he decided to take it upon himself and press the power button on the computer-- right as you were finally getting it to work! You gasped, and looked up at him. “Michael! I was in the middle of something! Can’t you just wait?” You asked, obviously very upset. He just tilted his head at you, thinking you were very cute when you were upset with him. He didn’t feel a hint of regret, and instead hoisted you up and carried you off to your room, you were still upset but there was no use making a big fuss out of it. There was no fighting with Michael. He laid you down and sat beside you. He grabbed your hand and took off his mask, placing your hand on top of his head, nestled in his hair. You liked to pet his hair, he usually wouldn’t have it but he sort of enjoyed it. You just sighed and pet his hair, pulling him down to lay beside you whilst you continued to run your fingers through his locks. “Please don’t do that again. I appreciate the break, but please don’t. I give you your time when you go do the things you like? Let me have mine. I love you.” You sighed softly and kissed his cheek. He gave you a small huff in return and kissed your cheek back. Later on, when you were drawing again, he let you have your time and patiently sat beside you and watched. You showed him how you color, and let him pick one out for the background. He of course picked red.

#chucky #buddi chucky #slasher #slashers x reader #Michael Myers #michael myers x reader #buddi x reader #chucky x reader #buddi chucky x reader #slasher imagines

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lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

Text

An Art of Balance #6

A/N: If anyone’s interested, the perfume Lizzie is wearing is one of my all-time favourites, Aqua di Gioia by Giorgio Armani. It’s really poorly described here because my olfactory recognition doesn’t go beyond ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but well. It’s divine though. Also, bear with me if sth astrological is wrong, this stuff is complicated! Katriona Cassiopeia (aka KC) belongs to my lovely friend @kc-needs-coffee

Word Count: ~ 2.100

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 6: A New Perspective

As it turned out, Orion’s decision to name Everett Hufflepuff’s new Beater had been the right one. He still had a way to go, but he immediately fell in line with the rest of the team. What he lacked in precision, he made up in strength.

Orion had taking his individual training on himself. As the team’s captain, he saw it as his personal responsibility to ensure every one of his teammates was able to reach his full potential. Everett was a fast learner, but it would take him a few more sessions to even be remotely able to hold a candle to the Ravenclaw Beaters.

Rath and Cassiopeia had been a well attuned team for many years now, both as skilled a Beater as they came. They would need any protection against them they could get, and the match against Ravenclaw was approaching fast.

Although Orion wasn’t the type of person to let his mind be clouded by worries, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure they could get Everett into proper form in time. He had been voicing his concerns to Lizzie the other day, during one of their tutoring sessions. If anyone knew what it took to become a Beater in a short amount of time it was her.

Lately, Orion had found himself looking forward to their meetings in the greenhouse, despite his already tightly packed schedule. It was refreshing to discuss their team matters with someone that didn’t flood him with a multitude of statistics for a change. Lizzie had a different approach to things than him, but they weren’t polar opposites like he and Skye. Exchanging views with her had provided him with a new impulse more than once.

In fact, he had come to enjoy her presence in general, even more so than before. They had always been friends but his knowledge about her had pretty much begun and ended at the Quidditch pitch. Seeing her outside team meetings and practise had allowed him to get to know other sides of her. He’d had no idea Lizzie had been part of the duelling club until last year. Or that Arithmancy was one of her favourite subjects. Or that she used a perfume smelling distinctively of jasmine and mint.

Orion had a harder time bonding with her friend Rowan. He hadn’t had any points of contact with her before he had started tutoring them. Now, several weeks later, he still knew hardly anything about her. She seemed to be exceptionally smart, but also equally as shy. Most of the time she would consult her textbook about the plants he tried to teach them about, while Lizzie paid it no mind, listening to his explanations instead.

Orion couldn’t help his impression that Rowan was struggling with his unconventional style of teaching. He didn’t refer to books more than he had to, rather letting his instinct and experience guide him.

Having trained with him for years, Lizzie knew his way of conveying knowledge was not always straightforward. Rowan, however, had a hard time letting go of protocol. She was clinging to the academic theory as if her life depended on it. Following the rules could help with a lot of problems, but she would never master the delicate nuances advanced Herbology had to offer, if she wasn’t willing to tread paths unknown to her.

“And what exactly is the difference between dried foxglove petals and desiccated foxglove petals?”

McNully snapped him out of his thoughts and back to where they were sitting in the Great Hall. It was study time and most of the students were gathered at their House tables, brooding over their homework.

They had been discussing their latest Potions essay, covering the effects sourcing methods had on the quality of ingredients.

“That is what we are supposed to illustrate, I believe.” Orion dipped his quill into the ink bottle they were sharing and tried to pick up where his wandering thoughts had let him off. His eyes wandered casually across the other Hufflepuff students lining their table.

It lingered where Skye and Lizzie were sitting. Lizzie was rapidly flicking through the pages of her textbook with a puzzled expression. Skye was talking insistently at her, looking equally as bewildered.

Several heads shot up as Lizzie audibly slammed her book shut and clambered off the bench. When Skye made no move to follow her, she jerked the other girl up off her seat and motioned with her head towards where he and McNully were sat.

They quietly walked towards the head of the Hufflepuff table. Seeing them approach, McNully reached for his wheelchair that was blocking the way. He moved it aside to allow the girls to join them. Orion smiled.

“What can we help you with?”

Wordlessly, Lizzie held up her copy of Unfogging the Future and slid into a seat between Murphy and him. She reopened the page she had been examining before and gave a frustrated sigh.

“I cannot tell you how much I hate Divination, I really can’t. You’re good at this, aren’t you?”

Orion supressed a smile. “So I am told. What bothers you in particular?”

“It’s those bloody birthstones,” Skye explained. “No matter how often we go over it, Lizzie and I always come to different results and we can’t find the mistake.”

They handed him their notes and Orion quickly gave them a check before returning them.

“That is because both choices are correct. There is more than one birthstone for each of the zodiac signs. You both chose the right stone for the right sign, but in different parts of the time span covered.”

Skye groaned in frustration, earning her a chiding glance from Professor Flitwick, who was supervising them today. “What do you mean, more than one? Why can’t this stuff be straightforward for once?”

“Everyone is different and such is reflected in the stones fortifying our inner strengths. Why should there be so little birthstones when there are so many traits to represent?”

Both girls looked at him with blank expressions.

Patiently, he flipped the pages to one of the star charts at the back of the book. “The astrological year is divided into the twelve zodiac signs. Each zodiac sign is subdivided into three decades, meaning a set of ten days. There are additional factors to consider, but simply put, there are three birthstones for each sign, representing one decade each. That is why you come to different conclusions, you didn’t factor in the time of the month.”

He contemplated telling them about the stones meant to counteract each signs weaknesses. But seeing Skye pinching the bridge of her nose, while was Lizzie trying to process what he had just said, muttering “I hate Divination” under her breath, he decided against it. Better not too much at once.

“How do you know all this nonsense?” Skye was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know all this because it is explained in the introduction of the chapter you two apparently weren’t reading too diligently.” He turned the pages back to the beginning and pointed at the paragraph on the first page.

Lizzie’ cheeks flushed a bright read as she quickly scanned the text. “I can’t believe I overlooked this.” Embarrassed, she quickly snatched the book out of Orion’s hands and got up. “Thanks for helping anyway.”

They made their way back to their places, the scent of jasmine and mint lingering behind. Orion was always glad if he could help a friend. A few seats down the table, Lizzie was discussing what he had just told them with Skye. He thought back on what Penny and Murphy had said on the train ride to Hogwarts a few weeks earlier.

Lizzie really had changed a lot. She seemed to be standing taller, an air of effortless confidence around her. The blush on her cheeks had made her look really pretty, reminding him of how the rush of the wind brought the colour to her face when she was flying. She was moving differently as well, more graceful and fluently, her hips swaying ever so slightly with every step she took. He had never noticed her hips swaying like that before.

McNully nudged his shoulder. “Uhm, Orion… if you don’t want to rewrite your whole essay, I’d move my quill if I was you.”

He snapped out of it and looked down at his parchment. The ink was dripping from the tip of his quill, forming a large black puddle at the end of his last sentence that was quickly spreading onto the rest of his half-finished essay.

Orion cursed under his breath, immediately drawing his wand to vanish the excess ink. Fortunately not too much of his work was ruined.

McNully raised his eyebrows. “Such a strong language, my friend. I have only heard you curse three times, so far. One time was when you crashed your broom into the commentary box and broke your wrist, the second time when you forgot the time while broom balancing and almost missed your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam and the third time when you burned yourself on your cauldron and spilled Wiggenweld Potion all over Professor Snape. This reaction is 87,9 % surprising.”

He felt the heat creeping up his neck. McNully was right, he wasn’t easily enticed to displaying his emotions verbally. He hadn’t meant to let himself slip like that.

Choosing not to answer his curious friend, he committed himself to restoring the missing part of his essay. But McNully wouldn’t let it pass like that.

He was nodding in the direction of Lizzie. “I wonder if she knows how much attention she is attracting.”

Orion gripped his quill a little tighter, concentrating on finishing his sentence. He fought the urge to follow McNully’s gaze.

“Our friend has a captivating personality, for sure. But would you mind lifting the veil of ignorance from my eyes and tell me how you reached such a conclusion?”

For a moment, McNully smirked knowingly before he directed Orion’s attention over to where their roommates were sitting. He could easily make out what McNully had been referring to. Everett was eyeing the girls up without even trying to conceal it.

“Him, of course. He’s been checking Lizzie out ever since she came over to us.” He smiled innocently at him. “Why, who did you think I was talking about?”

Orion’s brow furrowed in concern. He didn’t like the predatory look on Everett’s face. This guy had somewhat of a reputation.

“Yeah, I don’t like the looks he’s giving her either,” McNully echoed his unspoken thoughts with a scowl. He leaned closer to him, putting his elbow on Orion’s shoulder in conspiratorial way. “I think we should do something about it, don’t you? And by ‘we’, I obviously mean ‘you’.”

Shaking off McNully’s hand, Orion gave him a disapproving look. “And why would I do that? He is our new Beater if you don’t recall.”

“For the sake of the team, of course!”

McNully started reciting his calculations. “I’d put the chance of him going for our little Chaser prodigy at roughly 80 %. There are some variables unaccounted for, but I’d say the chances of Lizzie falling for him lie at something around 54 %. Which would affect the team’s dynamic gravely. And we can’t have that decreasing our- I mean, your odds on winning the Quidditch Cup.”

Orion blew onto his parchment until the ink had properly dried. “You talk as if he was actually hitting her up. All he did was looking at her.”

And there was certainly nothing wrong with looking.

“Lizzie can fend for herself if need be. Besides, who am I to interfere with the course the heart is deciding to take.”

McNully looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Mate… I don’t think the heart has much to with it if you get my drift. Seriously, do something.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He stood up and handed Professor Flitwick his work of the day.

McNully raised one eyebrow at him. “And what would that be?”

Orion gathered his strewn books and notes. “Finding balance inside and outside of my mind, my dear friend. See you at dinner.”

#art of balance #lizzie jameson #orion amari #orion x mc #orion amari x mc #hphm #hogwarts mystery #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #quidditch #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad

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raendown · 4 years ago

Link

Pairing: ShisuiKakashi Word count: 1462 Soulmate au: The one where the most common opinion other people have of them is written on your skin somewhere

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 219

“Maa, someone looks a little gloomy.”

Shisui looks up just as the shadows around him coalesced in to the shape of a fellow shinobi. Not one he recognized, although that wasn’t so much of a surprise. He wasn’t in ANBU himself so it stood to reason he wouldn’t know which mask belonged to who. The silver hair automatically made him think of Kakashi, of course, but the infamous last of the Hatake line was far from the only person in their village with white or silver hair and Shisui had learned his lesson the hard way a dozen times over not to make assumptions.

With a slight shift of his weight he made room on the bench for another body only to quirk up one side of his mouth in a reluctant smile when the ANBU chose to perch on the small edge of the backrest instead. How contrary. And entirely unnecessary. He very much hoped he was friends with this man outside the mask because that was just the sort of ridiculousness he enjoyed.

“I’m alright,” he tried to protest. A heavy and very pointed silence followed until he sighed in defeat. “Okay I’m not alright but I’m not injured or anything. Just...worried.”

“Sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

“Oh. Um. Are you sure? You probably have something a lot more important to do than listen to me whine about my personal problems.”

The mask of the Hound tilted to one side. “My duty is to care for the people of this village in any way they might need my protection. Even if that means protecting you from whatever’s going on inside your head, I suppose.”

A little bemused, Shisui let out a quiet chuckle. It was a very roundabout way to make the offer but he was grateful all the same. Maybe the two of them really were friends. He couldn’t think of any other reason one of their most elite would reveal themselves and take the time just to speak to him over a gloomy expression. And maybe it made him a bit too trusting to consider opening his heart to someone without being totally sure he could trust them but Shisui had always had a strangely open heart for an Uchiha.

“If you want to listen to me blather on then more power to you, friend. Just let me know if I make you uncomfortable. I know a lot of people can be squirmy when someone wants to talk about their soul words.” He peeked sideways just to check that his companion hadn’t disappeared and was pleasantly surprised to see the other lounging comfortably.

“Nah, doesn’t bother me. If you want to spill your secrets then be my guest.”

“Yeah. It's just...I get worried sometimes, you know? The words have changed a couple times over the years but they’re never...great.”

The ANBU tensed ever so subtly. “You think you might be matched with a missing nin or something?”

“Oh no! Actually that never crossed my mind, although now I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it out. What I meant to say was that I worried for them.”

“For them?” The naked surprise was easy to read in just those two words.

Shisui waved his hands vaguely through the air as if they could illustrate his point. “Well yeah! If the most common opinion about them has been negative my whole life then I’m guessing they probably haven’t had an easy time of things. Imagine everyone around you thinking you’re a demon or something? Or that you’re going to turn out like someone else. I hate being held to someone else’s standard.”

He knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining himself but his mind was a bit of a jumble from treading the same worries over and over again for the millionth time. Before looking up he paused to rake both hands through his hair and grit his teeth, grinding them together like that might relieve some of the knots in his chest. When he did look over he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Somehow the sight of loose shoulders and the weight of a heavy gaze wasn’t it. Clearly something he’d said had been surprising but after going over his own words a few times he still couldn’t figure out what he’d done to cause such a reaction.

“Are you okay?” he ventured. The question seemed to jolt the other back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just a little startled. You’re quite the selfless one, aren’t you?”

“Eh?” Shisui rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “I’m nothing special, I don’t think. Aren’t soulmates supposed to worry about each other and stuff?”

“I just meant that most people would worry about themselves first but not you. Your first thought is to wonder if they’re okay. That’s...nice. Not a lot of nice people left in the world.” Although he couldn’t see the ANBU’s face, Shisui thought he could almost hear a smile behind those words and echoed the expression without thought. “You know, I don’t think you need to worry very much. I’m sure when they find you your soulmate will have everything they need.”

Shisui beamed, his chest oddly light as though a burden had been lifted just like that, but there was no time for thanks. Before he could do more than part his lips the ANBU had lifted a hand in a two finger salute and then melted in to the shadows. Either he’d been summoned or realized the time or perhaps he’d just grown tired of their conversation. It didn’t really matter. Whatever his reasons for leaving Shisui was just glad the guy had taken the time to sit and let someone dump their troubles on him. Even if they hadn’t really had time to get too deep in to the subject or anything, just speaking what was on his mind and getting a little reassurance in return had been the one thing Shisui didn’t realize he needed.

Maybe, he thought, he would get the chance to thank the other someday. He really hoped so.

Far beyond the other side of the village a figure broke out of the shadows with fumbling steps to catch his weight against the closest tree, breathing hard. Leaving so abruptly when they were clearly still in the middle of a conversation was definitely rude but he consoled himself that at least Shisui couldn’t be too sure who was behind the mask. Not to mention with such a constantly positive outlook he was fairly sure the other young man wouldn’t think too unkindly of him anyway.

Reaching up to frame his own cheeks, Kakashi pulled away the face of the Hound and tilted his head back, closing his eyes to the sunlight streaming through the trees. Several heartbeats passed in utter stillness. Only when his thundering heart had finally slowed did he bring his chin back down, eyes drawn to the glove covering his left hand like a magnet drawn to a lodestone. He didn’t need to peek. The words underneath were branded on his heart just as every other word he’d ever borne was. Still he dropped the porcelain mask carelessly to the ground and tugged at the clawed fingers of his left hand. It was hard to remember how young he’d been when he first started wearing his signature gloves even outside of duty but next to the mystery of his hidden face not many people had ever questioned such a practical fashion choice.

“As bright as the sun,” he read aloud.

Then Kakashi smiled. Laughed a little even.

“I can’t say they’re wrong, Shisui,” he whispered to the trees around him. “About either of us. And I’ll tell you about it very soon. There’s been hints that the Sandaime wants to remove me from ANBU. Maybe it’s a sign that I need to stop hiding behind all these rumors.”

Lifting his head once more, he brought a hand up to cover the sun above him and let its brilliant light halo around the precious words that had kept him sane and whole through the darkest of times. No matter how deeply he delved in to the shadows, no matter how many whispers of demon and just like his father had followed him through life, Shisui’s words had always been positive, waiting patiently to draw him back to sanity with reminders that there was good in this world, that there was someone out there waiting to find him.

“We’ll see each other soon,” Kakashi vowed to the silence around him, “for who we really are.” And although he knew that Shisui could not hear him, he meant to keep that promise all the same.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #shikaka #shisui #kakashi #fanfiction

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