#like i did the base sketch then only just yesterday i did the line art then after a few hours of researching names decided to do the colors | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegreatfrogdungeons · 8 months ago

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Regional, mascot?

I forgot to post yesterday I was working on schoolwork and chaining in doodle world sowwy ;w;

I also slept for most of the day school killed me today so I'm only posting one line. However, it's a long one, so buckle up

The format of these older images is awful but to be honest I would still do it like this in the present day: it's the most information in one place as possible and is convenient when just generally sharing information. But when I'm TRYING TO DO A COOL THING AND GIVE THE MASCOT THEIR SPOTLIGHT- hhhhhh regardless, this is Sqishgo and Lorimato! Sqishgo is not based on any one particular species in particular, while Lorimato is based off of the Loricatosaur! (if only because it made the name work better lol).

Lorimato is pretty obviously based on the classic tomato pincushion, with the idea being that its pins get pushed further into its body and pop out of the other side as full spikes! It's honestly one of my favorite designs for how simple but effective it is.

Sqishgo, meanwhile, is based on both stressballs and literal marketable plushies. They are stupid and dumb and me and my friend that I do this with love them. Sqishgo has undergone literally ZERO design changes, not even in name: their very first sketch was made in five minutes and my friend called it absolutely perfect. The only thing you could get Sqishgo on changing around is it's evolutions, which is a doozy of a story.

Ok so to start, Sqishgo and Loricato originates from when me and my paleo-friend who i do this with were JUST starting to be friends and JUST started drawing digitally, let alone drawing fakemon, so communication and understanding of each other was shaky.

also i found a unique glimring while writing this and passively chaining for unique fluffi I hate it here

Ok, anywho, Sqishgo was original supposed to evolve from a normal type stegosaur into a large and armored grass/steel type stegosaur, to which my friend sent this concept that they had made and had been sitting in their gallery for years prior:

I know that I shouldn't be putting down people who are trying their best at making art, but I have known them for a few years now and I have been the only one drawing for their region idea, a lot of the time TO THIS DAY they don't have anything more to a concept other than "base creature" + "typing" + "name" and the actual design is all on me. With that said, I feel justified to say that there's a reason I keep saying "paleo-friend I do this with" instead of "paleo-friend I work with".

Even disregarding the very amateur art and acknowledging that I can have a bias to my own designs, I do not like this design concept: stegosaur with leaf plates works perfectly fine, plays off of their biology even, but there is SO LITTLE to this design that it's just infuriatingly boring to me, and my friend wanted it as-is with as little changes as possible. It's not anything more complicated than "just a normal stegosaur with leaf plates in armor", and its not stupidly simple enough to be endearingly hilarious, like flamigo or dudunsparce.

So as I was designing Sqishgo, I mentioned playing further off of the stressball idea and making it in a pincushion, and since I had expressed disapproval for the above design and my friend didn't put up much of a fight against the idea, I went with it and completed Lorimato's design as a replacement to the "armored stegosaur" evolution

As it turns out, my friend thought that Lorimato WAS Sqishgo, and was VERY against Lorimato replacing the armored stego. This resulted in a large argument that, to be honest hasn't fully resolved itself when talking about designing the fakemon for this region.

I didn't want a big fight and I still wanted to be friends with them, so

I did both

This is Ramparmatus, which takes the steel typing from Lorimato and gives it grass as well. Playing off of this type-borrowing, it's evolutionary method is just a more complicated method of evolving Lorimato. Don't worry, if this ever becomes an actual game we'll put in an npc who will gives hints as to how to evolve Sqishgo.

My thoughts about thisssssss are the same as the original concept image. The beetlejuice-scary-face head is doing a LOT of footwork keeping this from being my least favorite design in the dex by a mile (instead it's just my least favorite design by a couple hundred yards). Hopefully, this caters to an audience who jut wants a big cool-looking tank, god knows I'm not in it.

Also I recognize I gave its horizontally swinging tail a vertical axehead these are old and I haven't updated them I'm sorry be nice to meeeeeeeee

Luckily, this doesn't have to end on a sour note

This is Barribarbs! A grass/poison kentrosaurus, it's the hardest one to get out of any of Sqishgo's evolutions, and as such borrows the grass type from Ramparmatus. This guy was originally supposed to be one of Sqishgo's 2 evolutions with Ramparmatus before the miscommunication occurred and Lorimato got added on. They are also more loyal to their marketable plushie origins: they're based on images of long abandoned plushies becoming overrun and interwoven with plant-life, most notably the infamous "Murby".

The general concept for this design is a kentrosaur with an evergrowing, spiky bramble tail that it wraps around its body to become a living bramble patch, and I frankly love this guy so much for it. The pokedex entry is also one of my personal favorites, just for the implication that every shiny Barribarbs is a serial murderer who will kill again.

While I don't like Ramparmatus, I don't think that after all of this I would get rid of it: it represents my friend, who despite me bitching and moaning about them in this project, I only dislike in this project. They are still my friend outside of it, and I love them all the same in that regard.

Also because Ramparmatus is so self-indulgent of a design for my friend I get to make my own self-indulgent designs which you all will see later >:3

Sorry for the venting and long post lol. Also I'm going to start tagging these posts with "gändvita region" now so I can more easily organize yippie :3

#digital art #fakemon #fakemon region #drawing #pokemon #gändvita region #long post #personal vent #sorry #doodle world mentioned!!!!!

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deciphered-narrator · 9 months ago

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today is technically the first day of the game jam, although i did some brainstorming yesterday. i also worked on initial code today. rambling below:

yesterday, i came up a basic outline. it's going to be a very simplistic point and click style game, and only really long enough to act as the tutorial for a longer game if i ever end up expanding it

the basic story is that you delve into the innards of a beast that washed up on shore. my original idea was for it to be a dragon, but i ended up leaning more toward an unidentified blobster look. inside, you cut open its organs and find a bunch of broken ship parts strewn apart, until you cut open its stomach and find a guy in there

visually, i was inspired by the game "the return of the obra dinn," which i still haven't actually played. this is what obra dinn looks like:

i made a few initial sketches for the visuals of my game, but i'm not skilled or patient enough to pull off that ditherpunk look. my sense of perspective is also very shaky without direct reference photos, so i was thinking about asking one of my artist friends to draw some better and more dynamic sketches that i could build off of

^ this sketch was based off of a photo. i'm probably going to play around with the colors, since i'm not a fan of the blank gray water, and obviously the final product will have more details and look nicer

today, i built some fundamental stuff in code. it's going to be a browser game, so i made a 4:3 html canvas (640x480 pixels, my pixel art is 320x240 and i'm just going to double the size) that i can draw stuff on using javascript

since this game is going to be so small and since i haven't read up on how more complex games are made, my system was to represent each scene with a "state" number. my "controller" script just runs whatever code is associated with whatever state it's currently in

i also made the ability to add invisible "hitboxes," which can change the style of your mouse cursor (i want to make some custom cursors) and do different things when you click on them. i also made a dialogue box that can pop up and be dismissed, and display up to three lines of text

in this screenshot, there's no image on the canvas, so it's just a gray box. the hitbox is shown in red (because the game is in "debug" mode, which just means i put a bunch of extra messages in the javascript console and show hitboxes for myself), and when i click on it, the dialogue box shows up. i want to eventually create a nice fancy border for the canvas and the dialogue box. i also might make the dialogue bigger, but it was such a pain to size it that i don't know if i will

my next step will be to create states for each scene and at least add my sketches so i can put the hitboxes in their correct spots and add a bunch of dialogue. i'm also going to ask my artist and composer friends if they would be willing or have the time to contribute

me when nanowrimo comes around: ough writing a book in a month is too hard

me when my university holds a week-long game jam: 👀❓️

#game jam liveblog

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

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It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

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“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #enemies to friends to lovers #blunt teeth sharp tongue #got some fun banter in this one!#followed immediately by heartbreak #they want to be soft so bad #but they do not know how #i promise they will eventually be soft #you have to remember that this is still less than 24 hours after part 1 #the reader is traumatized

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enbeemagical · 4 years ago

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The Snake and the Star cover art coloring process!

You still remember my process post about my TSATS cover art sketching from yesterday, right? Okay, good. Time for the colored version then!!

Tagging everyone who liked/reblogged the sketch process! @lehuka123 @the-phantom-author @oliveofthenight @destinyrainevans @aaravos-is-hot @myamoonseeker @sunstone-citrine @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @mozart-the-meerkitten @kaguya-inuyasha @king-bito @perlelas thank you all so much for the support!!! *sparkles*

After I copied the art out, I did a little coloring right then, then put it aside and... basically didn’t touch it for about a week. Here’s what I did at first:

I might not have taken a picture at this point if I hadn’t wanted to show @alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice how much Aaravos looked like a Frost Giant. See, last time I colored Aaravos, for a TAATM drawing for Hope, I started with gray as his base skin color. This time, I’d looked at more pictures of him, and realized that his face and hands were a lot darker than his torso. And his skin tone in the TAATM art didn’t look quite right to me, so I wanted to try something different.

So here, I started by lightly shading a purplish blue all over his face, and black on his torso and arms. I also added a bit of my darkest red to his ears, because O////O he’s looking at Loki after all~

Next, I think I put on gray on his face, then purple all over. I forgot to color his hands at first, then ended up coloring them almost the same way as his face. His arms are only partially colored because where the color ends is where I decided his sleeves start. (yes, I forgot to put in clothing details before I copied it.)

I got back to coloring only the day before posting Chapter Two, actually. I did a couple more layers on Aaravos’s face, torso, and arms, then pulled out my pink and brown pencils for Loki.

Gray, pink (extra on his cheeks o//.//o), and two shades of brown blended well for his skin tone and shading, and I just went with black for his hair instead of trying to combine browns.

Clothing next!! I checked a few pictures of both of them before deciding on Loki’s specific outfit. Pretty basic, green long sleeved shirt under gold-edged black vest. Aaravos, of course, is wearing his pretty black-and-gold robe. I did a couple quick graphite pencil lines to figure out exactly where I wanted the lines for sleeves and patterns and whatnot to go, then erased those and started coloring.

I also started shading Aaravos’s hair in gray and lavender, and added a bit more pink to Loki’s face. o////o blushy boi

For Aaravos’s robe, I started shading gray at the bottom of the sleeve, then went to black around his shoulder. I darkened the black as I went down, then added purple all over. Loki’s vest is just black, but his shirt is two shades of green blended.

Oh, and I also went over everything multiple times over the course of the coloring with either my blending pencil or a basic white pencil (which works almost as well, really). I think I used the blender on their faces and the white on their clothes.

The absolute hardest part of this drawing? This step. Specifically, Loki’s helmet.

I shaded Aaravos’s horns first. Lightly gray near the ends, darkening to black at the bases, then I went over that with lavender and purple. Pretty easy, actually, and smoothing them out with white pencil was even fun.

But that helmet...

Okay, so, tips for shading gold? A nice light brown works very well. I used an orange, a goldish-brown, a light brown, and a little black here. The black may have been a mistake.

My best reference picture was actually Loki’s helmet from the other side. Still, I’m pretty good at mentally flipping images (I think), and I managed. I left a white space for a glint of light, and did my best to darken the helmet in the right places.

Then I realized I hadn’t colored their eyes yet. So I did that-- orange, goldish-brown, and brown for Aaravos; two shades of green for Loki. Also black, for both of them.

Then I started on the background.

Before doing anything with the background, I consulted two people very important to this process. First, I asked Hope which side should be purple and which green, and what color the snake’s eyes should be. Then, I asked my sister whether it should be darker at the top or the bottom. Those questions answered, I began coloring.

First it was lots of gray. I started with barely noticeable color near the bottom, getting darker and darker until I was shading with black near the top. Then I pulled out lavender and light green and thoroughly covered the gray and black.

Oh, also blending. I did some more blending.

Then shading again! I got out my dark purple and my dark (slightly bluish) green, and started from the top.

Oooh, but there’s something missing~~

I had to take a moment to think about what I wanted for the little snake and star. I wanted them to contrast with the background, the same way the dots do in the original yin-yang symbol. And I didn’t want them to be just flat color, no, there was too much else I could do with them!

First, Aaravos’s star. Very lightly, I drew a lavender line around where I wanted the border to be, where I wanted the purple to shade into white. Then I colored that in, shading darker as I got closer to the middle. I did the same with dark purple, and added a tiny bit of black. Before I blended it, I went to work on Loki’s snake.

I started with light green there, covering it diagonally both ways before shading the edges in dark green. The eyes are (my purpliest) blue, which Hope suggested as a reference to the “are Loki’s eyes green or blue” debate (I’d not previously heard of this. poor sweet mind-controlled stabby bean!).

Blending!! I got out that white pencil and blended blended blended until that snake and that star were as smooth and soft-looking as I could get them, to contrast with the totally un-smoothed background.

It looks done, right? But it’s not.

I wanted to go over the lines in black pencil, to help everything pop, and to keep each part distinct from the rest. Aaravos’s horn blends into his star in the above picture, and I like my art to have a little more clarity than that.

Plus, I needed something to make Aaravos’s freckles, and do the little light glints in their eyes. I’d planned to use my white gel pen, but it hates me and wouldn’t work well enough. Since I’m staying at my grandparents, and they just might have such a thing lying around, I asked my grandfather if there was a white pen or marker I could use.

I went to town with this.

It wasn’t enough to stop at the freckles and eyes. Nah. I was having too much fun. So everything got shiny!! See the white on their sleeves? Loki’s helmet?The swirlies on Aaravos’s horns? The stars on his arms? WHEEE!! I LOVE white markers!!!!! Need to get myself a couple.

Plus, my new signature for art I’ll post on Tumblr, written with one of my new charcoal pencils. I use several different online names, and I’ll sign my art with whichever is most appropriate. ^_^ I don’t care if it’s cliche or childish, I like doing little hearts over the i’s.

I’ve started work on another piece of TSATS art, a snapshot of a scene because I wanted to try my hand at Lady Loki..... (let me know if I should post the sketch or wait until I’ve finished coloring!)

#the snake and the star #cover art #full color!#alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice #loki #aaravos #romance novel cover XD #my art #my art process #my coloring process #i'd love to know what you think!!#yin-yang symbol #in purple and green #look idk what took over my hands #but those stick figures turned into THIS #i'm feeling pretty proud of myself actually!#the snake and the star art #drake draws

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soysaucevictim · 3 years ago

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Week 3. I’m... struggling.

May 1

I tried to get some sleep in after the all-nighter a bit before 9AM... “got up” around 3PM. This to mean I lied down and didn’t really get any proper sleep, because mind was racing about that project.

But resting was still okay. After I got back up and updated some logs, I did today’s exercise...

First, today’s DD. 50 squats with EC. Manageable, moderately aerobic work. One of the last things I did before things went pear-shaped...

I shortly after found out I lost a family member and I saw what happened. I’m not going to describe it here, for many reasons. But I’ve been dealing with the images and emotional pain since... I probably will in some fashion, for a long time.

Last, Day 13 of BREATH. “Feel“. Yoga was emotionally uncomfortable as hell... but I brought myself to the mat accepting that I was going in feeling extremely tender in that dept. Let’s just say there were some waterworks and a very real sense of survivor’s guilt. That’s all I’m going to say there.

I tried to deal with things with chatting and discretionary venting on Twitter...

I forced myself through another all-nighter to finish that sewing project. Fought against images and waves of intense emotions to keep going. I don’t think I would’ve succeeded at sleeping through the night anyways.

May 2

I tried to sleep again round 8AM - it was more just physical rest till like 10AM. Too restless.

Touched base on what happened with a family member. They were... all of us were... are distraught.

I had a more successful attempt at sleeping for a couple hours after that. Honestly, painful. But it was mutually beneficial and necessary. Probably made the nap easier.

Shortly after, I endeavored to get some working out done.

First, today’s DD. 50 climber taps with EC. Ngl, it took a little psyching myself up to get down and do this. As expected, really started feeling the abs in the last 10-20 reps.

Second, Day 14 of BREATH. “Space“. This was less emotionally fraught - even though there were moments wrapping up that I had twangs of sorrow. It’s too soon to let everything I’m going to need to go... but I imagine, there will be in the future. Too raw and in pain to manage that yet. I did like the back arch balance stands and toe stand moments, the most.

Last, Day 13 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Had phone on floor because it was all planks. My climbers ran at more of a jog than a sprint - but then again energy levels wasn’t up to that. The last 2 sets in particular that were the hardest.

Made dinner, did some dishes, chatted and started on that vent art of Virgil to help process things a little. I basically pulled another all-nighter.

May 3

I decided to let care team know about what happened with a local crisis unit/line, before trying to get some sleep.

I woke up proper around 3PM, I think this was modestly more restful.

After some of the usual... was both somewhat relieved and distressed when one of the family member’s friends called his phone. We were able to let his circle know what happened.

I then got to some exercise again.

First, today’s DD. 1′ elbow clicks with EC. I counted 74 reps by the end of the duration. Manageable and simple.

Second, Day 15 of BREATH. “Enter“. Despite walking into this having eaten a lot of wasabi peas - I elected to do full planks and kept back knee raised for high lunge variations upon Adriene’s invitation to. It was nice getting into a sort of flow - gathering what we were going to do next before Adriene instructed a few times.

Last, Day 14 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. The squat hops were honestly the brutal part, today. Was tempted to not shoot for Level 3, but decided to anyways. Just glad I completed it, today.

Did some of the usual, made some dinner, and finished up that drawing.

I stayed up obscenely late, but not another all-nighter.

May 4

I woke up around 11AM.

Touched base with therapist on the phone. Made a mortuary appointment and asked family to help get me (and Dad) to that appointment later in the week.

Hit the showers, met some more family in person.

Did some of the usual before deciding to add, sort, and transfer the contents of my Anxiety Box into Virgil’s jar. I also decided to start filling the Patton jar with some things I was grateful for. I think this was helpful.

I dusted off Facebook for the first time in like years. Saw that his friends have been pouring condolences onto his page. I was pretty disconnected from his circle of friends... wound up adding many of the ones I recognized hearing about. This was a painful straddle between gratefulness and sorrow.

Had to field another call on his phone. That hurt too. I kind of wished I could unlock it.

I then got going on my workouts, pretty late...

First, today’s DD. 1′ raised leg circles with EC (supine). I counted a total of 45 reps, reversing the direction at the 30″ mark. Doable despite needing to hold head up.

Second, Day 16 of BREATH. “Discipline“. This was an extremely chill day - focusing on extending and slowing down the breaths... definitely well-timed given how tiring/harrowing today has been.

Last, Day 15 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Just arm work, I’d say these days are amongst the easiest to get through. Again, good for energy levels.

I wound up in bed around the same time as yesterday.

May 5

I woke up around 11AM again.

I went to Seeking Safety Group again. I wanted and needed to be there. That’s all I’m going to say on that one.

Got home, almost dozing off. But spent all day and night hanging out with a local friend.

I did some dishes and made one of the Hello Fresh Meal. Creamy pesto grillng cheese ciabattas. Me and friend really enjoyed this one.

Among many things - I think sharing DWIT and the first half of “The Poisoner’s Handbook“ were some of the highlights.

We wound up talking the night away, despite it not being the best idea.

Oh well, the bed was made at that point.

May 6

So one of the first things I had to deal with was a morning dental appointment. It was a nice appointment, talked about things with discretion. I’m hoping it may get a tiny bit easier to talk about for it. (Obviously NOT oversharing to anyone and everyone.)

Grabbed some Starbucks and had to get frustrated with LogistiCare, in activating my return trip home. I was honestly getting close to collapse of exhaustion by the time it got to me. (Not going to blame anyone really... it was unfortunate for how bone tired I was.)

Got home and took a short nap, before the mortuary appointment.

I kind of didn’t want to - but after that, I was roped into seeing extended family. It was nice but also further exhausting. But I will say that a highlight was being able to share with my great uncle a series about the Spanish Flu. He likes history stuff and learned a lot of new things about that situation - also was nice tying it in with his interest in stuff like the WW. (Also glad and was struck by all the observed parallels with, uh, what’s been happening with COVID. But I’ll leave it at that.)

Medical history and the like was a welcome distraction. Especially the fact that that great uncle was an interested party to share it to.

Got home again and spent some of the night on the usual and decided that I was only up for catching up on my DDs...

First, yesterday’s DD. 40 side bridges with EC. It was questionable, given sheer level of exhaustion. But I felt like catching up on SOME of my regimen anyways..

Last, today’s DD. 40 windshield with EC. Same thoughts about previous exercise.

Updated some logs and stuff before hitting the sack. In the green zone for once, yet again. I was just so profoundly exhausted at that point.

May 7

I woke up around 11AM.

One the first things I wound up doing was fielding a lot of phone calls to get other appointment-related affairs handled.

Spent some time on the usual and sketching an art idea out that I’m not sure I’ll flesh out just yet. It’s kind of detail-intensive.

Then, I decided to catch up on my exercise regimen.

First, today’s DD. 2′ bicep extensions with EC. I counted 155 reps by the end of it. Biceps felt pretty tired after that one, at that pace. But very doable.

(After watching some YouTube and whatnot...)

Second, Day 17 of BREATH. “Explore“. Man, was this intense on my quads for my energy levels today. But I tried my best to get through it as best as possible. I think the chair poses were especially intense.

Third, Day 18 of BREATH. “Center“. This was alright. I liked the calf raise hold stuff and a lot more of the chill stuff today. Warriors were okay. Still have a ways to go to pull off Crow Pose, but that is a challenging one, for sure.

(After a lot of usual stuff...)

Fourth, Day 16 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Intense, but I enjoyed the fact this was mostly jumping jacks. Think the twist jacks were the weirdest part. Got fairly winded by the end.

(After making/eating some dinner and watching some videos for that to settle...)

Last, Day 17 of 1′HIIT.Level 3, 1′ rest. A bit more strength-oriented leg work - what with the leg raises and lunges. Glad I didn’t have to worry too much about doing this in a semi-full stomach (butt kicks do some jostling but generally not as much as like high knees).

I spent some time watching/listening to videos and updating some logs after this.

I got to bed pretty late in the red again... but not an all-nighter.

#adventures with fitness #adventures with hello fresh #family shit/#death/#(this... this was a traumatizing wk)#(i didn't detail what happened more than the fallout... however)#covid mention/#(but that's not related to what happened to us this week)

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zatanni · 5 years ago

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Lukanette September Day 6/7: First Kiss, Second Chance

Their first kiss happens several years after they met.

They’d both loved and lost and grown and moved on, but by some twist of fate (or luck) Marinette found herself attending the same arts Université as her charming what-if. Broken hearts mended, conversations turned into playful banter, and soon Luka and Mari were exploring what could have–no, what should have been.

Z: Art and Songfic for Day 6 and 7. The song I used was May I by Trading Yesterday, which you can find here: https://open.spotify.com/track/72DAOl4TGmp48MvXsLbMR4

I hope you like it!

Fic below the cut!

“Hey, ‘Nette. Did you hear about the music festival next month?” asked Juleka, who together with the rest of Kitty Section, were attending Renommé University for the Arts.

Marinette warmly greeted her long time friend and favorite model. Juleka, after that photoshoot so long ago, had since gained a bit more confidence, and now wore her bangs to frame her face instead of hide it. The simple change did wonders for her modelling, especially on the runway.

“I haven’t, actually. Is Kitty Section joining?”

“'Course we are!” chirped Rose as she sidled up to her girlfriend. Marinette wondered why she even asked. Kitty Section was really gaining traction these days. They were set to release their sixth album this summer. Some days, the members couldn’t even walk across campus without being stopped for at least one picture.

Ivan joined the girls’ excitement, showing off the new platinum white drumsticks he was planning to use onstage.

“Actually…”

A smooth low voice accompanied the familiar arm that draped around her shoulders. Marinette felt the usual tug at her heartstrings and fought to keep her face from filling with red.

“We were hoping you could help us out with that, Ma-ma-marinette. You know, just like always,” Luka chuckled.

With her reply, the whole band cheered and ushered her to their own corner of the common grounds, a small picnic table where they could have lunch and discuss their ideas.

The junior kept his arm securely on her shoulder even as Marinette already agreed to the job. That she’d agree was a given. After all, they were such close friends. Besides, Kitty Section was a delight to work with, they’d always allow the designer creative freedom, much like their idol and producer Jagged Stone always did.

And…

And Luka would be there.

Marinette wasn’t sure how to define what she and Luka were. They were friends, of course, but…

Friends didn’t stay up til the wee hours of the morning having conversations about nothing and everything.

Friends didn’t sneak into your dorm to give you chicken soup, nor stay up all night to care for you when you were sick.

Friends didn’t fix a loose bra strap nor let their fingers linger for one second…two…three wishful seconds long.

No, Marinette thought, as she felt Luka’s piercing eyes look up from his guitar and fall on her as she sketched out new designs.

Friends didn’t do that at all.

…

“Stare any longer and you’ll burn a hole in her head,” Juleka teased, looking up with two gloves stained with hair dye.

Luka raised both his hands in defeat, scattering the band’s sheet music he was working on all over the floor.

“Hey, this is Rose’s place, ya can’t make a mess!” Juleka chided, helpless, as both her hands were filled with purple goo.

Luka grumbled and picked up the pages, making one messy stack on the corner of the coffee table.

“You sure you don’t want to dye your hair again?” She asked, turning back to the mirror.

“How do I ask her, Jule?” Luka sighed, the million-dollar question finally hanging in the air. Juleka would have laughed at her brother had he not been playing such a depressive tune on his guitar.

She followed his gaze back to Marinette, who was sketching happily in the next room while Rose, Ivan, and Mylene occasionally looked over her shoulder.

“You know I suck at words. I’ve been at this for years.”

Luka promptly gave himself a self-deprecating guitar diss and Juleka couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Her brother must have really loved Marinette if he was having such a hard time finding the perfect way to ask her out.

It suddenly occurred to Juleka that the latter part of his sentence wasn’t and exaggeration. Luka really had been at it for years, back since before the whole disaster when Mari got with Adri-that guy. But now that they were attending university and there were no more barriers between them, Luka had gotten even more explicit with his affection.

A smile here, a touch there, a subtle moment where it seemed like Mari and Luka had their own little world stitched between daydreams. Juleka didn’t pretend she didn’t know where Luka would be when he snuck out at night, or when he’d leave practice early to catch her after class. She didn’t pretend to miss the way his eyes seem to drift to Marinette every time the girl smiled or laughed.

Her brother was in love. And he had been for such a long time.

Juleka shoved down the slight guilt from the fact that she’d chosen to support “Adrienette” all those years before when really she should have been supporting her brother, who made Marinette happy in the best of ways.

“You’re overthinking it,” the girl advised, as she slid off the gloves shed used to dye her hair. “You should just do what you always do…you know, what you’re good at,” she encouraged.

“What, be emo?”

Juleka smacked him on the head. “No, silly!”

The girl picked up a discarded piece of crumpled paper, filled with the familiar scratchy handwriting belonging only to her brother. She smoothed it out and held it out to him.

“Ask her with a song.”

…

The night of Renomme’s Music Festival had finally come. Several bands had lined up to play one after the other but everyone knew that they were all really waiting for the final performance by Renomme’s very own celebrity band.

Even the members of all the other bands stayed after their performances to see what the cat-themed personalities would be playing for them today. Over the years, Kitty Section’s style had evolved, with them decking out hit after hit especially since the members all hit university.

The crowd roared to life as the band stepped onstage in black combat boots, sporting the edgiest outfits they had ever seen them wear. Dressed uniformly in leather jackets with their respective masks embroidered on the back in luminescent gold thread, the members took the time to show off their new clothes. For the first time, the members donned masks with black bases and uniform gold accents with their respective designs.

Marinette took a risk with the darker color palette, but the monochrome style change plus the gray-scale and silver recreation of their debut backdrop showcased exactly what Kitty Section was these days: different and evolved, but staying true to their roots. It seemed to have an even better reception than Marinette hoped.

Luka looked over to the side of the stage where Mari was watching. Ocean eyes met bluebell ones, and by the gods, did sparks fly.

He winked, and she smiled, sheepish, as he jumped right into an earth-shattering riff to kick off their performance. They started off with their first and still popular song, the one that that they played on Bob Roth’s segment. But with the skills and experience they’d built up over the years, what used to be the work of a cool garage band turned into a sick track on the same level of Jagged Stone.

The music hall screamed with the sounds of their fans, both students and outsiders alike cheering the all the words in unison, Rose’s once-chirpy-turned-husky voice leading them along. Juleka matched her girlfriends energy, melting the hearts of girls and boys alike with her guitar and back up voice. And who could forget Ivan, with his precise beats and crazy drum fills?

But Luka? Luka was living. The way he banged his head to the music had Marinette worried the mask would fly off, but his energy and passion had everyone screaming even harder as he led the band into their next song, and the next one after that. Watching him rock on with Kitty Section during practice was amazing enough, but it was nothing compared to what Luka was like on stage. He was a marvel. Everyone felt like they were seeing the makings of the next Jagged.

Kitty Section hit their last notes and let Rose's hard vocals ring throughout the gymnasium. There was a pause and then, a loud, thundering applause. Fans were losing their minds, demanding more, more more.

ENCORE! ENCORE! ENCORE!

Sweat was dripping down their faces as they reveled in the crowd's deafening cheers. Through it all, Juleka met her brother's eyes and nodded.

It's now or never.

Marinette's eyes widened as Rose stepped away from her microphone. In her place, was Luka, for the very first time in Kitty Section history.

The crowd was silent, confused, as they recognized the signature lightning bolt on the mask of the lead guitarist as Luka took center stage. He put a hand over his black mask and pulled it to the side, inciting collective gasps from those fans who didn't know him and one small gasp from Marinette.

Wait! This wasn't part of the plan! Marinette thought, almost panicking. She looked at the eyes of the members one by one, but the only one who met her eyes was Juleka. And she was smiling.

Luka’s voice pulled her attention back to him, and he was staring at her with deep ocean orbs so raw with emotion that she could melt.

"This song is for the most amazing person I have ever met. I’ve always wanted to tell you...all this time.”

The crowd exploded with hoots and cheers all curious to see just who the lead guitarist was looking at on stage left, but all Marinette could see was Luka. Luka, looking so vulnerable, so honest and true. Luka, who made her heart sing and dance every moment he was near. Luka, Luka, Luka.

The crowd went silent in anticipation as he closed his eyes and took his first breath to sing.

And there you stand opened heart, opened doors Full of life with the world that's wanting more But I can see when the lights start to fade The day is done and your smile has gone away

He turned to the side, fully facing his heartsong.

Let me raise you up Let me be your love

Marinette’s heart soared, and she stood frozen, entranced by his smooth baritone.

May I hold you As you fall to sleep When the world is closing in And you can't breathe May I love you May I be your shield When no one can be found May I lay you down

Tears welled up in her eyes at his confession. God it was so beautiful, so him.

All I want is to keep you safe from the cold To give you all that your heart needs the most

Luka raised his arm toward Marinette as Rose took his guitar. He was shaking so much he couldn’t play as well, but Juleka smoothly filled in.

Let me raise you up Let me be your love

But his voice delivered his conviction, and Marinette found herself walking onstage, closer to him, as he sang the chorus again.

May I hold you As you fall to sleep When the world is closing in And you can't breathe May I love you May I be your shield When no one can be found May I lay you down

The crowd went wild as he took both her hands in his. This was it. This was the moment.

All that's made me Is all worth trading Just to have one moment with you So I will let go With all that I know Knowing that you're here with me For your love is changing me

The instrumental died down, and Luka touched his forehead to hers, singing the lyrics in a gentle whisper. He was confessing. He was asking for a second chance.

May I hold you As you fall to sleep When the world is closing in And you can't breathe

Ivan hammered the bass pedal as Juleka ramped up her guitar for the key change.

May I love you May I be your shield When no one can be found May I lay you down

Goosebumps appeared on her skin as he concluded the song with powerful vocables, and Marinette...Marinette had never been so sure.

The instrumental faded out, the crowd was stunned silent, hearts so moved by emotion they couldn’t speak.

And Marinette, her heart filled with to the brim with love for him and him only, took the second chance he so freely gave her, and pulled his lips to hers.

_______________________________________________________________________

Z: So...did you guys like it? I decided to combine two days because I couldn’t ignore how well they fit together. So here’s an Art for First Kiss and a Songfic for Second Chance.

They’re all in university here, and yes, its implied that a certain blonde had her heart first. I hope you like it :)

For not the first time, I used the song May I by Trading yesterday/The Age of Information because it’s my ultimate Lukanette song.

Again, find the song here: https://open.spotify.com/track/72DAOl4TGmp48MvXsLbMR4

@lukanette-month

#lukanetteseptember2019 #lukanetteseptember2k19 #lukanettemonth2019 #lukanette #luka couffaine #luka #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #ml #mlb2019

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animeniacss · 4 years ago

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 3 - Opportunities

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU,

Length: approx. 5k words

Chapter 3 - Opportunities

“…A preschool job?” Taehyung asked, looking up at his friend. Jimin had come straight over to his apartment from work, hurrying in and prying Taehyung away from a sketch that he was very invested in. Before Taehyung could even ask what Jimin was doing, he was given the piece of paper with all the information on it regarding the position.

“Yeah. My boss just gave me the information before I left. I think you should totally look into applying.” Jimin said, sitting beside his friend. “The pay is pretty good, and it’s not hard. You’re just doing art projects with a bunch of little kids.” Taehyung sighed, passing the paper back to his friend and running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He said. “I’m not really good with kids.”

“What do you mean? You always get along great with your cousins.”

“Okay, then let me rephrase,” Taehyung said. “I’m not really good with kids who I can’t play wrestle and backflip onto the couch.” Jimin nodded, leaning back in the seat. “Besides, I’m trying to be a famous artist, not a school teacher.”

“But it’s a job until you become a famous artist,” Jimin assured. “Besides, it could be fun. You need a change in scenery.” Taehyung sighed, getting up and walking back to his desk, plopping himself in his seat. “I need a day or two to make some samples for the guy. Will you at least tell me you’ll think about it?” Taehyung, running a hand down his face, focused his eyes on Jimin. Jimin smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with the same whimsical aura that they always had, an aura that always assured Taehyung that things would smooth over in the long run. Taehyung had put a lot of his trust in Jimin since he decided to pursue art when they were in high school, waiting for the bus stop one early Monday morning as they dreaded the idea of being up so early for school. Taehyung groaned, knowing it was only a matter of time before he gave in to his best friend.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll think about it.” Taehyung finally said. Jimin grinned, getting up off the couch.

“Okay, awesome. I’ll let you know when the flyers are done and I’ll give you one so you can call them.” Taehyung nodded, swiveling around in his chair as he looked back at his sketches that were stopped halfway through. Jimin yawned a bit. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight? I’m too tired to drive all the way home.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung said. He heard footsteps heading towards his bedroom, and he looked over. “Why are you heading towards my room? There’s a perfectly good couch.” Jimin turned back around as he shrugged off his suit jacket, folding it over his shoulder as he loosened his tie.

“You’re going to be up all night with that light on and I’m not losing sleep because of your pencil scratching and constant grumblings-.”

“Artistic grumblings,” Taehyung said, grinning playfully. Jimin chuckled.

“…Artistic grumblings…either way, I’m not letting it keep me awake. When you’re done, come to kick me out on the couch. Unless you want to join me~.” He teased, and both of them laughed.

“I’ll probably crash right here,” Taehyung said, patting his desk. “Just like always.” Jimin smiled a bit. “Goodnight.” He said, before swiveling once again to face his desk. Jimin watched as he picked up a pencil and began to draw again. He stood for a moment, just staring, before finally heading into the bedroom. When Taehyung was alone in his living room, he leaned back in his seat, pulling out his phone and quickly being bombarded with tons of Instagram notifications. He had uploaded a picture about an hour ago, before he really got into his work, of the sketching that he planned to do all night. He opened the app up, wondering what his followers were saying about his brainstorming stage. The comments were not what he expected.

Oppa, post a picture of your face~! ^.^ I’m sure you’re looking extra handsome today.

Don’t work too hard, you don’t want to get rings under those beautiful eyes, Oppa~ <3

I’m not really a big art fan, but I just think you’re so handsome, Oppa, I’ll follow you always! uwu

There were almost 100 similar comments, only a handful of them curious about what he was creating in the picture. He continued to scroll, hoping that he would find just one of those handfuls so that he could work tonight with a smile on his face. Through the seas of appearance-based comments, he finally found one. One that had nothing to do with his appearance, but his work. @MissSunshine43 wrote:

How do you always find ways to get inspired? I’m jealous. >.<

Taehyung chuckled a bit, tapping the heart beside the message and allowing it to pop up in bright red. He had to admit, curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped onto the profile of MissSunshine43. The profile itself was not what he was expecting. The page was bright and colorful, and it looked like a school classroom. Pictures that contained children had their faces covered by cute emojis, and as he scrolled, he saw all the different things that this school did. Different themed days for holidays, different events involving parents, and different types of work students had completed. A small smile formed on his lips as he continued to scroll, more and more curious with every picture that he saw. He didn’t need to see the kid’s faces to know that he was having fun with whatever they were doing. When a new set of pictures loaded, he clicked on the one picture of a female face. She was sitting around 4 kids, on top of a big, white tarp. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, hints of colored paint showing in her locks. Her hands as well as the hands of the emoji-faced students around her were holding up hands that were coated in different colored finger paints. The teacher had spots of red paint on her cheeks, with a small smile stretched between them. Sliding to the next picture, Taehyung saw a completed picture that was decorated with colored swirls, hearts, handprints, and crudely scribbled names most likely written by the students. In the middle, it read: Thank you for another fun year! 2018-2019. The picture was nothing stunning, but it seemed to suit the class it was for. Taehyung read the caption underneath:

Finally got to crack open the paints this year! Our teacher did a good job again, yeah? OwO

Taehyung’s finger ran along his phone screen as he examined the photo for a few more minutes. He thought back to what Jimin told him about the preschool job that would soon be up for grabs. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes, his hand lazily tapping on his phone a few times, then blinked, lifting his phone back up to his view. The photo he had just been looking at, one that was around a year old, had a big red heart on the side of it. His eyes widened, and he quickly turned his phone off and slammed his phone down, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.

“Aaaah, fuck, now I look like a stalker.” He grumbled to himself. Taehyung sat like that for a moment, running his hands through his hair multiple times. Despite the constant reminder that he was an actual idiot running through his mind, he looked back at his phone, which lit up again with the notification of an Instagram interaction covering the background he had of him and Jimin posing dramatically in suits for one of Jimin’s important business events. Simply flipping over the phone so the case was exposed, he sighed. “A preschool, hm?” he mumbled to himself.

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

Two days later, you were sitting at your desk, eating some lunch with Hoseok. He was helping you prepare for when the students returned from lunch, as this week’s focus was on different people in a community. So far, they had learned about the jobs of police officers, firefighters, and medical staff such as doctors and nurses. Today would be focused on teachers, and next week, after introducing a few more community workers, the students would be able to dress up as their favorite, and they would have a big celebration day. You were most excited about that and had lined up a few people that you knew in each profession who were willing to come and talk to the students about their job and what it was like. Videos and stories could only do so much, which is what you had been doing, so having real people come in would be a treat that kids were looking forward to.

“I wonder what all the kids are going to choose to dress up as.” Hoseok hummed, looking at you. You glanced up, popping a piece of leftover chicken into your mouth that you had packed from yesterday’s dinner.

“I have a feeling I know what a few of them are going to be.” You said, smiling. “Which reminds me, I need to go put up that flyer on the bulletin board by the front door for the parents to see.” You got up, setting your boxed lunch down onto the table, and picking up the colorful flyer with clipart pictures of different community helpers that the students were learning about. Hoseok continued getting today’s teaching activity ready while you headed out to the bulletin board. It was already covered in work made by the kids, as well as notifications for parents on school events, local community events, and anything else that they may need to know. It was a pretty crowded board of stuff. “I should get rid of all of the old news, huh?” you hummed, pursing your lips. You scanned the cluttered board, picking off a few events that had since come to pass. You began reorganizing the board, making sure that it was visually pleasing to the average eye despite all that was being displayed was various pieces of colored paper with lots of sentences written in Black Comic Sans.

“Yoooohooo~.” You heard a voice calling and turned to see Seokjin approaching you. He was grinning as he waved a thin piece of paper in his hands. “Just the pretty lady that I wanted to see.”

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” You said, a bundle of old and crumpled papers now in your hands. “What’s that?”

“The job application for the new art teacher~.” Seokjin grinned. You felt yourself grimace slightly, but you tried to remain subtle about it. Unsure if it worked on your boss – it probably didn’t – you watched as he stepped close and showed you the colorful paper. The name Bright Star Preschool centered the page in bright pink letters and an eloquently simple font. All the information necessary was written on the flyer as well, placed so creatively inside a giant-sized palette as replacements for the colors that would normally be seen on one. A paintbrush sat beside the over-sized palette, and on the bottom of the flyer held a contact phone number. It didn’t seem like such a massively elaborate project, and yet, somehow, you could tell it was done by professionals. “Doesn’t it look great? Namjoon’s workers know what they’re doing.” Seokjin walked to the board, lifting up the stapler that was waiting for use on the floor. As he stapled the paper onto the board, a content grin remained on his handsome face. “I’m excited to start interviewing.”

“Yessir…” you said softly. Seokjin looked at you, patting your head gently.

“I’m going to upload the flyer to our social media accounts, and I’m sure we’ll start getting calls soon, so get your interview face ready because you’re going to be incredibly busy.”

“Yessir.” You said, nodding your head.

“And grow your vocabulary, okay?” he teased, patting your shoulder. You watched as he headed back to his office, his hands behind his back as he strolled down the colorful halls in absolute bliss. Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks and turned to you. You could see the excitement radiating off of his entire body, and towards you. It was like he was trying to push that aura in your direction and have it absorbed into you, but unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t work. “Oh, this Friday night I want to get that dinner I keep promising you. Okay? You’re not allowed to say no.”

“Yes-.” Seokjin’s eyes widened a bit, and you smiled a bit. “I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl.” Seokjin slapped his hands together. “Get back to work.” He waved you off before once again turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. You watched him for a moment before Hoseok stuck his head out of the classroom door.

“You almost done? We need to go get the kids soon.” He saw your hands were still full of crumpled up papers and he walked over to you, gently taking them from you. “Head inside and finish eating your lunch, okay? I’ll go throw these out.” He offered you a grin that you just had to return, it was so genuine.

“Alright.” You said. Hoseok turned to face the bulletin board, finishing what you started as you headed into the classroom. You plopped your body down on the chair, every muscle you didn’t even know you had tensed up finally relaxing into the comfort of the seat. Your eyes scanned the classroom, currently empty, though you could hear the scattered conversations of students as they went through their daily routines, talking to Hoseok, talking to each other, and even talking to themselves. You had no idea what they were saying or what they meant, but it was music to your ears just hearing the scattered little voices. As you leaned forward, you continued to eat the leftovers, though they had unfortunately gotten even colder than they were when you opened them up only 30 minutes before.

The idea that five days a week, right after the students returned from lunch, 30 minutes would be taken away from your time with the kids. You already gave up 45 minutes to Yoongi three days a week when he came down from his full-time job at the high school to provide the students with needed physical activity, but Yoongi was here way before you were, so it wasn’t a big adjustment. Hoseok had gotten his job as your teacher’s assistant right after you were hired, per your request. But this new art teacher was just something you didn’t want to deal with. What if they were stuck up? Didn’t flow well with the kids? They might not share the same work ethic as you did, how would you keep the peace between your time and theirs? These ideas ran through your mind, and you felt a headache coming on that was even bigger than the daily ones you found yourself getting simply by being in this profession. Your eyes wandered to the clock, and you stuffed one more bite into your mouth before closing your lunch and sticking it back into your work.

It was time to get the kids from lunch, and you were never one to be late.

As Seokjin heard the sound of chattering children returning from the cafeteria, he was just finishing with getting the flyers out onto social media. With the final click of a button, he leaned back in his seat. Ever since he had made the decision, he felt bad for the way it made you feel. However, he could sugar coat it all he wanted, if you were to distracted by the mundane arts and crafts, everyone suffers. Especially the children. He knew you would get over it in time, and he knew including you in the process would take a little, if any, tension off your shoulders. He saw you pass by through the square window in his door, your head turned as you kept a finger to your lips in hopes to encourage silence from the children as you passed by his office. A smile stayed on his face as his eyes fell back down to the flyer still plastered on his social media.

“That Jimin kid really did a good job.” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s see how long it takes for us to start getting some calls.” He hummed, leaned back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head.

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

“You want me to call now!?” Taehyung shouted. His phone was resting in between his cheek and his shoulder since one of his hands was tightly gripping a piece of sketch paper while the other was lodged firmly in his pants pocket.

“Yeah!” Jimin said. “I’ve been following the school’s social media, and they just posted the flyers about an hour or so ago!”

“Shouldn’t I wait a few days or something before I call? I’ll look desperate, won’t I?”

“Taehyung, this is a job inquiry, not a first date.” Jimin groaned. Taehyung could hear his friend’s annoyance through the phone. “Just call and say you know me and that you heard about the job. Namjoon-Hyung said the guy is really nice and the school is great.”

“How would he know?”

“His son goes there,” Jimin responded simply.

“That’ll explain it.” Taehyung sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll call now.” He said.

“Awesome! Call me back right after; I want to know how it goes! I’ll text you the number.” Jimin was quick to hang up the phone before Taehyung could even open his mouth to say goodbye. Glancing down at the phone, it wasn’t long before he saw a notification pop up, Jiminie as well as a phone number written in the little blurb. He stared at the phone for a moment, lips strung together in an extremely tight straight line. He knew the minute he did this; there was absolutely no going back. He would have to go in for an interview, at the very least. At the very most, he had to work as a preschool teacher for god knows how long. As he paced the back of his couch, he stared at the phone number, occasionally having to tap the phone with his thumb to ensure the screen would not go dark. As he paced, he thought back to the Instagram account he had come across recently. He thought about the smiling woman with the colorful paint all over her, and the students that he knew were smiling behind the emojis that covered their identities.

Was it going to be like that when he went? If so, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Taehyung sighed, pressing the phone number link as the screen went black. When a faint ringing tone was heard, Taehyung placed the phone to his ear. He chewed on his bottom lip, reluctantly halting his pacing and instead resorting to just slightly bouncing in one place. Finally, after what felt like forever, a voice spoke on the other side.

“Bright Star Preschool, this is President Kim Seokjin speaking.” The voice hummed. Taehyung froze for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he did this, having to act professionally. Well, he did, but the resulted in a shattered champagne glass and hundreds of eyes staring at him in shock and fear. “…Hello?” The voice hummed, and Taehyung blinked, realizing that he must have just barely been breathing.

“Y-yes, hi. Uhm, well. I heard from my friend that your school was looking for an…art teacher?” Taehyung bit his lip, scratching his mess of black hair. “He was the one who made the flyers for you.”

“Aaaaaaah, Park Jimin! Yes, he’s so talented!” Seokjin said. “I’m so glad you’re interested, you’re the first call we’ve gotten since I just put the flyers up a few hours ago.” Seokjin was silent for a moment. “Listen, Mr. Kim. Our school day is just about finishing up for today. I don’t want to inconvenience you with asking you to come to the school right away, so will you be able to come in for an interview sometime next week? You’ll be meeting the main teacher in the classroom as well.”

“Next week? Taehyung asked. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Great!” Seokjin cheered. “Do me a favor, please. Give me your email and I’ll send over a form for you to fill out and send back to me. Just put what days work best for you and I’ll get back to you.”

“O-okay…” This was all happening so fast, but next thing Taehyung knew, he was reading out his business email to the man across the phone. Seokjin laughed a bit.

“Awesome, I’ll send it over right now. Thanks for calling, I’m so excited to meet you.”

“Me too, Sir. Have a good day.” He said. Seokjin was first to hang up, allowing for a dead dial tone to ring through Taehyung’s ears. He sat down on his couch, laying his head back on the couch. “What days work best for me? I’m unemployed, all days work best for me.” He mumbled to himself. Before he had to sit and think of his busy schedule, he called Jimin back. It only rang for a second before Jimin picked up.

“What happened?” Jimin asked.

“I have an interview next week,” Taehyung said.

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

“Bye, Mr. Hobi! Bye, Teacher!” Yuna cheered, waving to you as she walked hand-in-hand with her mother. You and Hoseok waved to the little girl as she clung to her mother, eyes wide as she talked about the fun day she had. A smile formed on your face, watching the eyes of the mother. She looked happy knowing that her daughter had completed yet another good day at school. Kids were being picked up left and right, a sea of loud goodbyes coming from all different angles. You smiled, waving them off as the children exited the preschool. It had been a long day of teaching about teachers, which is a lot harder than it sounds when you’re surrounded by kids who kept giggling at the fact that the same word was said twice in one sentence over and over again.

As the final handful of kids began to left, you were left with just one. Kai, also known as Hyuka by his friends. The youngest boy in the class with a big personality. He sat on one of the steps, his hands clutching his backpack as he kicked his legs. H didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that he was the last student in school, as Hoseok almost immediately crouched down with him and began talking to him about his excitement for next week’s party. Kai grinned as she shared the fireman costume that his father was planning to buy for him just for the occasion.

“Dad said I have to use it for Halloween too, but that’s okay. Dad has lots of parties.”

“That sounds so fun.” Hoseok grinned. “What do you do at those parties?” As the boys talked, your eyes wandered to the bulletin that Hoseok had finished reorganizing. The colored papers were placed in a way that was much more visually appealing to the eye than the cluttered mess that was there before. Looking closer, you saw BRIGHT STAR PRESCHOOL along with a painter’s set of supplies sitting right in the middle of the board, being the first to take the attention of anyone that looked there. You walked over while Hoseok was occupied, hoping to take it down and place it somewhere on the board. Suddenly, you heard Kai shriek.

“Daddy!” When you turned over, you saw Hoseok stand up and wave to the man that squatted down to lift Kai into his arms. As he stood up, you saw Kai fix his father’s glasses, which had gotten slightly crooked from the impact. Kim Namjoon. “Daddy I want to tell you about my day!”

“During dinner, okay?” he smiled. “I want to hear all about it.” Namjoon’s dragon-shaped eyes fell in your direction, and you felt your cheeks heat up just slightly. Those eyes, especially when behind those thick-rimmed glasses, always knew how to make you just slightly flustered. Namjoon set his son down. “Talk with Mr. Hobi for a minute while I talk to your teacher.” He said, patting his son on the head. Next thing you know, this six-foot-tall man was walking in your direction, hands stuffed in his suit pockets. A small smile formed on his face. “Sorry, I’m late. Jungkook called, said he couldn’t’ babysit tonight.”

“No worries.” You assured. “He was only here alone for less than ten minutes.” You offered him a kind smile. “I’m sure he’s excited to tell you about the past few days. He’s been talking to me about you every chance he gets.” Namjoon chuckled a bit, scratching his head sheepishly.

“I know, I know. But my workload is definitely lighter, so I’ll be picking him up myself again.” Namjoon shifted a bit, letting out a shaky sigh. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” You noticed Namjoon’s piercing dragon eyes turn round and soft, as a small, yet genuine smile formed on his face. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” You said gently. “I’m sure Kai would love that.” Namjoon chuckled a bit. A moment of awkward silence washed over you, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hoseok giving you a glance. When your eyes met, he offered you a playful thumbs up, before quickly turning back to Kai, who was still chatting on as if Hoseok never turned away from him. When you looked back to Namjoon, he was also staring right at you. You had to admit, it made you even more flustered to have all these men staring at you.

“I…had a lot of fun at that art show last weekend.” He said gently. “Did you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did. Thank you for inviting me.” He smiled down at you, and you had to reach up and play with the tips of your hair, needing for your hands to do something other than just lay dormant at your sides.

“Of course. I hope you’ll let me invite you to more places in the future.” He said happily. You sighed softly, looking at him.

“Namjoon, I don’t want my boss to make you feel like you have to-.”

“He’s not,” Namjoon assured. “I genuinely mean that I want to take you out again.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’ll…think about it. These next few weeks are going to be hectic planning for the rest of the community week and the party and everything.” Namjoon simply nodded in understanding. You felt the beginnings of another awkward silence falling over the both of you again, and your eyes wandered to the bulletin board behind you. Namjoon’s gaze followed yours, most likely hoping that whatever he would lay his eyes on would lead to even more conversational topics with you. He motioned to the flyer sitting dead center of the board.

“Seokjin-Hyung hasn’t stopped talking about the art teacher job he’s opened up.” He said, looking down at you. While he expected to see yet another smile form on your face at the idea of a new coworker, instead he was met with a slight frown on your face. “You don’t look too happy.”

“It’s not that. It’s…just a long story.” You admitted, your hand continuing to comb through your locks. Namjoon nodded.

“Maybe you can tell me over dinner?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. You looked up at him, chuckling a bit in amusement, and Namjoon followed suit.

“That was smooth. But like I said, I’ll keep you updated. Now, take your son home.” You motioned to the little boy, who was now looking in his father’s direction much like how Hoseok was still staring in yours. “I think he’s getting impatient.”

“Right…” Namjoon hummed, not wanting to end the conversation though he knew he eventually had to. “I��ll call you.” He looked at you. You offered a forced smile, nodding.

“Get home safe.” You said simply, nodding your head. You watched as Namjoon returned to his son’s side, scooping him up into his arms as the boy squealed in delight. Kai waved to you and Hoseok, saying a giddy goodbye as Namjoon headed out of the preschool gates and to the car that was parked outside on the street. You rested against the wall, crossing your arms as you watched Namjoon get his child situated into the backseat. As he opened the driver’s side of the door, he turned to offer you one last kind glance, before slipping into his car and driving off.

“Did he ask you out again?” Hoseok asked, standing beside you. When he saw you nod, he simply sighed. “Aaaah, what did you say?”

“Don’t be jealous, Hobi.” You teased, turning on your heel and heading back into the classroom to gather your things.

“I’m not jealous!” Hoseok pouted, following quick behind you. “I’m just curious.”

“Don’t be. I don’t intend to do anything with him. His son is my student, I don’t want him to be overwhelmed if his dad and his teacher started dating out of nowhere, it’s not appropriate.”

“He won’t be your student forever.” Hoseok pointed out, grabbing his bag. You glared at him, and Hoseok could only smile. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t just say it, then.” You said simply. Collecting your things, you headed out of the room and to Seokjin’s office to confirm with him that you were ready to leave for the day. Hoseok hurried behind you, calling out multiple apologies to you as you pretended you couldn’t hear them, despite only being a few steps ahead of him. As you walked down the hallway, your eyes fell towards a window that exposed the street outside the school, where Namjoon’s car had just been moments ago. You sighed, quickening your pace to the office.

You had no time for love, even if you wanted to. You needed to worry about this new art teacher that was going to ruin everything you had worked so hard to perfect all these years.

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himluv · 5 years ago

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Heaven in Hiding

The next Solavellan oneshot, set the day after Peculiar. I hope you like it!

Also, a reminder that you can read all of these oneshots in order over at AO3! Or reread, or binge, or whatever you need ;)

Also also, I have to mention that the title is a direct pull from the song of the same name by Halsey because, well... you’ll see.

The evening was late, but Solas sat at his desk in the rotunda, sketching Riallan where she sat reading on the sofa. The night had progressed as usual between them with a bottle of wine, a plate of fruits and cheeses, and quiet work. She hadn’t spoken of the day before, of his ridiculous blunder of professing his love to her so quickly, but she smiled whenever she caught him looking at her and she beamed when he called her vhenan. So no harm done, it seemed.

She growled at the book and flipped back a few pages. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said. She’d spent the entire evening pouring over the tome, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed into a hard line.

“What are you reading?” He asked.

“My trainer’s notes on Rift Magic,” she said.

“You trainer?”

“That’s her name, apparently,” she said. Then shook her head. “My advisors think I should pursue a specialization, and I’m beginning to think I chose the wrong one.”

He smiled at her frustration. It was rare to see her so at odds with something knowledge-based. “What were your options?”

“Knight Enchanter, which is too up close and personal for me, and Necromancy which is Dorian’s wheelhouse.” She shuddered. “It’s spooky enough when he does it, we don’t need two of us.”

“I am a Rift Mage.”

“I know, and I was hoping that meant you’d be my teacher. Instead Josephine brings me this!” She slapped the cover of the book with the back of her hand.

“Think of the appearances,” he said. “An apostate with no formal training teaching the Herald of Andraste in a new, dangerous form of magic? It would cause an uproar.”

She groaned. “I am so sick of caring about what the Andrastians think about me. I wish they didn’t think about me at al!”

He stood and moved to perch on the arm of the sofa. “I know vhenan, but their belief gives you the power to close the rifts, to fight Corypheus.”

“No,” she said, letting her frustration soak the word. “The mark gives me that power.”

“And the believers give you their coin and their land and their approval. You would be hobbled without them.”

She glared at him, which told him she knew he was right. “May I?” He gestured at the book.

“Please. I need you to tell me it’s gibberish, otherwise I’m going to think it’s my Dalish upbringing that makes this so difficult.” She gave the book a distrustful look. “That is not how we teach magic in the clan.”

He hummed as he leafed through the pages. “I would certainly hope not. Your trainer, is she…” he searched for a polite word, “well?”

Riallan snorted. “Physically, maybe. Mentally she’s a bit, well, addled.” She cocked her head at him. “Why do you ask?”

He waved a hand over the book. “I can tell from these pages that she’s a very talented mage, but her approach to Rift Magic is wrong, and very dangerous.”

Her eyes found his and stayed there, that indomitable focus trained on him in a way that would have made him blush if he weren’t so accustomed to controlling his expressions. “What do you mean?”

“She’s broken it down into the minutia, each piece added to the next, as if calling on the Fade were a simple recipe. And with elemental magics, it can be so simple. But this is the Fade. It does not follow rules and logic and science. At least, not purely.” He closed the book and handed it back to her. “When you use Rift Magic, you are not casting with your innate connection to the Fade, you are reaching through to the Fade using your knowledge of and connection to the rifts. It is at once science and art. Emotion and control. If you do not strike a balance, you will be left just as addled as she is.”

She set the book in her lap and sighed. “Comforting.”

He smiled. “It is not so difficult as it sounds, and with your talent I expect you will master it quickly.” He made to get up, to return to his desk, but her hand reached out and grabbed his.

“Will you teach me?” Wide eyes begged him to agree.

He chuckled. “I will assist you where I can, vhenan,” he said. Her hand tugged on his pulling him closer until he stood before her, looking down into her upturned face. By the Void but she was beautiful. Her cheeks bore the faint pink of wine and frustration, her lips matched and were parted so slightly as she watched him. He found himself bending at the waist as she tugged on his hand once more, succumbing to her gravity.

“We can hardly have the Inquisitor addled, after all,” he said, but the words were lost in the tentative brush of her lips on his. They kissed, soft and languid, enjoying without demanding more, until the screech of chair legs on stone made Solas pull away. Desperate, he snatched the book from her lap, opened it to a random page, and turned his back to the doorway.

“Don’t stay up too late, you two,” Varric called. There was a smugness in his voice Solas did not appreciate. The dwarf saw far too much.

“We won’t,” Riallan said. Her voice was high and thready, and he could only imagine the bright pink of her blush at almost being caught. “Goodnight, Varric.”

“Goodnight, Herald. Chuckles.”

“On nydha,” he said, but did not look at the dwarf. Only once Riallan let out a shaky breath did he turn back to face her. As he’d guessed, her face was flushed, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of disappointment on her face.

“What are we doing here, Solas?”

He frowned. “I don’t—“

“You call me vhenan, you,” she paused and glanced at the floor above them. Dorian had yet to come down from the library that evening, so she pitched her voice into a whisper. “You tell me you love me, but then you’re ashamed to let Varric see us kiss?”

He sat beside her on the sofa and pulled her hands to rest in his on his lap. “Not ashamed, vhenan. Never ashamed.” How could she think such a thing? “I am… a very private person.”

That earned him a wry smile. “So I’ve noticed.”

He chuckled. “I would prefer not to advertise our relationship.” He brow furrowed and he hurried to continue, “Not hide it. I am not ashamed, Riallan, but the more people know about us, the less privacy we will have. And there is your reputation to consider.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what people think,” she said.

“I know, vhenan, but I do.” He shook his head. “I care what they think of you, and I would not have them use our relationship as ammunition against you.”

She mulled over his words. “I can tell people, though?”

He inclined his head and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “If you so wish,” he said. “I ask only that you consider who among our friends would be least likely to gossip.”

She thought about it, her lip caught between her teeth in an all too attractive manner. “I think that leaves Cullen,” she said and laughed. “A secret it is, then, for now.” She tilted her head at him, letting her eyes wander over his face, heat pooling in her gaze. “It could be fun.”

He cleared his throat, ignoring the suggestive quality in her voice. “I apologize. We should have discussed this sooner.”

“Would have been nice,” she said. “But you kind of ran away yesterday.” She graced him with a smile, promising she took no offense.

“Ah. Yes.” He blushed. “I was embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to say that—“

Her smile faded, hurt flashing in her eyes.

“Fenhedis! No, Riallan, I meant the words, but you must admit the timing was…”

“Fast?”

“Incredibly,” he admitted. “Telling you yesterday was impulsive, ridiculous, and utterly unplanned. But it was true.”

“It really has been a long time, hasn’t it?” She was teasing him and it helped set him at ease.

“Yes,” he said. “I am liable to continue blundering through this.” He raised her hand to press his lips to her knuckles. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Emerald eyes watched his lips as he kissed her hand, as he spoke. She licked her lips. “Consider it forgotten.”

“Ar lath ma, Riallan.”

Her smile returned, but it was shy. “What if I can’t say those words back just yet?”

“Then you would be the reasonable one in this relationship.” He shook his head. “Take your time, vhenan. I would much rather your love come naturally than be forced by my foolish confession.”

The smile she gave him then was true and bright. “In that case,” she said as she stood from the sofa and stretched. “You have to stop calling me by my full name. No one in my family calls me by it.”

His eyes flashed over her face, noting the playful tilt to her lips, the bright mirth in her green eyes. “What shall I call you then?”

“I rather like vhenan,” she said. “But it’s hardly subtle. My clan calls me Ria, except Deshanna when she’s mad at me.” She shook her head. “Every time I hear Riallan I think I must be in trouble!”

A part of him tucked that knowledge away for another time, but for now he smiled. “Then, goodnight, Ria.” He liked the sound of her nickname on his lips. Short and sweet, and intimate. It suited her. Suited them.

She made to leave the rotunda, but paused by the door. “Will I see you tonight?” Her cheeks went so slightly pink, and the hope in her voice sent a heat through his veins.

“Ma nuvenin, vhenan.”

Then she stepped away and into the dark of the main hall to climb the stairs and fall asleep in her too large bed. Waiting to dream with him. And if her heated looks and eager kisses were any indication, he knew what would be on her mind.

With her nickname bouncing around his head, he couldn’t think of a reason why to deny her.

#Riallan Lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age inquisition #dai #my writing

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mitterstorm · 4 years ago

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Dance For Me

Chapter 1

“Finally we are here today to seek and to receive comfort. We would be less than honest if we said that our hearts have not ached over this situation. We are not too proud to acknowledge-

You couldn’t take it anymore, just by standing here listening to that preach addressed his departure. Your knees feel weak and your eyes burn, but you refuse to make a scene, taking deep breaths while clenching your fists is helping you calm down.

Still, it’s not enough.

You want to scream again just as you did when you saw his body limp against yours, scratch your arms in attempts of making the pain and hurt go away. To drift your mind from these ugly feelings.

A sick way of coping indeed, teensy bit of self-harm ain't going to kill you. It helps you somehow, preventing yourself from breaking even further in a public place like the cemetery.

Finally, you regain control of yourself and shift back to the preacher. Unfortunately, he concluded, now you have to prepare for the worse.

Henry, who is your most precious friend, is dead. His body was being carried away in the concealment of a coffin; he said his last farewell to you early in the morning when you ate breakfast with him, offering your company so he wouldn't feel alone, regain some strength by appreciation itself.

Something was up that morning; the old fart was more talkative than usual and flashed a smile here and there. You are at fault for not noticing from the start. You should have been more perceptive and observant; you are keen on people after all, especially when he gave you that look as if he was parting ways with you. He didn’t fight death, accepted it as embracing a hug from an old friend. That thought alone fills your head with doubt.

Was he even happy when he left?

Did he feel satisfied with the life he lived?

Were you enough?

Fuck, you never would've imagined his passing will affect you this much.

<<You old geezer, why were you so kind to me? Why did we let ourselves get attached?>>

The time is near, you will eventually have to confront him with all of these people staring at you, but you need to be strong for sake. You are what’s left of his loved ones. Linda died long ago. They never had a chance to procreate and bring a new life, Joey went mad or something along those lines.

Just like the rest of the crew, and he didn’t make any friends while he was on service for the military. If he did, they were dead. He didn’t like to talk about it.

<<I tried to make you happy, make you feel at ease as you did for me>>

Yet he kept secrets from you, of course, you respected his wishes and didn’t pry any further.

However, it stung.

<<Now it’s not time to reminisce, there’s nothing to reminisce for me at the moment>>

They called your name to the front; you ran out of time. It’s your turn. Is your first time burying someone, yes, you have assisted other burials besides this one, but now you are who’s lost a loved one. Those past times were favors people close to you had asked a long time ago; they said it felt nice to have somebody there when someone else is missing in their lives. In other words, you were there as comfort. A shoulder they could use to cry and lean on.

Hesitant, you take away from the burier’s grasp his shovel and with a gulp. You start shoveling some dirt into the hole were Henry’s coffin lies.

<<Shit, I can’t stop trembling! Come on, stop being a pussy and get over with this!>>

Despite that, your body wouldn’t obey, it made you look clumsy. No matter how much you lied to yourself.

You are scared.

After burying Henry, your vision goes black.

Waking up tomorrow morning at home without a clue of how you got there made your mind fuzzy.

How fun.

You try to get up, but end up failing.

“Fuuuuuck! Why do I feel like absolute shit! Everything hurts!” These feel just like a hangover. Why does it feel like one? Did you go to a bar once Henry’s funeral ended? How much did you drink?

“Enough to blackout it appears,” You say under your breath. Of course, your dumb ass would go to a bar and get drunk to cope with the pain! An upcoming headache awaits you for being arbitrary, instead of showing apprehension towards the situation and mourn, as you should, your voice of reason zonked out. “I reek of booze. Agh, it stinks”.

No more addressing what happened yesterday; feeling like trash isn't doing you any good. Henry would have called you out on your bullshit.

"Stop whining like a whore and man up, chum! I'll buy you a drink. Later we can relax and cut you some slack, nothing a magsman like myself can't do".

“Ok boomer,” You said in a humdrum tone, at least it made you laugh internally. “lo and behold, this will be a shitty morning-err afternoon, it’s 1 PM, I thought it was too early to be awake”.

That means it’s time for brunch.

Must compel your stomach desires, eat a lot little of food. Therefore, you'll have to leave the bed, go downstairs where the kitchen is; you force yourself out of the comfiness that are your covers. So you walk out of the room barefoot towards the kitchen. You open the fridge faking interest with whatever is inside and close it, then repeat, only that this time you pay a little more of attention.

You grab the water pitcher and pour some in a glass, then look for oatmeal and toss three spoonfuls of it at the water, after that you chuck a spoonful of sugar and mix it. A simple drink full of roughage. It’ll suffice for now.

*Clink clink*

Metal hitting porcelain serves you as a white noise to rearrange your thoughts. Yesterday was hectic and had your mind high wire, you were thinking about the old man; how long have you two been friends? Five or six years more or less, you met each other by autumn at a hospital. On that occasion, you were merely an intern in the middle of their practice and had to change sheets, deliver meals, give them their meds and reassure they took them at the time the doctors had said. Like a nurse or carer (the difference it’s you possess more knowledge than one and can prescribe medication, it was also part of your duty as a trainee assisting the doctors with whatever you could). That’s how both of you came face to face with.

Mr. Stein was sick and injured. He needed to tend some wounds since they required special treatment. Battle scars, you didn’t know at the time, however, as days passed, you became close to him, he told you how he got them; the biggest can be found on his back.

Unfortunately, a sharp pain arose, preventing you from wandering further in the past. You had forgotten about your headache, which it’s more noticeable now, you are sure there aren’t any pills left.

“I ain’t leaving being this crappy, besides I don’t feel like moving right now…” Your eyelids are heavy and keeping them open, it’s such a pain, so you shut ‘em in hopes of relaxing for a little bit. Leaning your back on the kitchen island while drinking your beverage, its coldness helping you somehow with the throb.

Once again, your mind wanders.

Thanks to it, you know where to find some ibuprofen.

“Are these the ones?” You asked while holding a box for him to see, squinting Henry finally recognized the packet.

“What’s it called again?” He questioned, rubbing his head to ease the ache a bit. His voice raspy because of a dry throat. His normal soft tone replaced by a croaky. He’s clearly suffering.

“Ibuprofen.” You read aloud as you’ve been asked and turn back to look at him.

“Yup, that’s the one, lass. I know I’ve bothered you enough, but could you serve me a glass of water?”

“You old coot, not a bother at all. I’ll be back with your water in a jiffy”.

The pills are somewhere inside Henry’s studio. You can do that, going upstairs isn’t as demanding as buying them, cuz leaving home means changing clothes that look presentable and aren’t dirty. Henceforth, you don’t feel in the mood for seeing the outside.

“I should stop thinking of how lazy I am and look for those meds…” Talking to yourself it’s quite common, so you ain’t no stranger to these situations.

Therefore, you took a break from your bullshit and went upstairs where Henry Stein used to draw; he passed most of his time in there, secluded from the outside world, before military service, he worked at an animation studio owned by the man he once considered his best friend, Joey Drew was his name if your memory doesn’t fail you.

Your friend called him a bastard, never explained why only responded by saying: “He lost his mind.”

Nevertheless, Henry kept drawing cartoons, and sometimes, he would let you watch him sketch and answered your questions. He carried on with his old comics he left unfinished long ago. The same he had drawn back thirty years ago. The main characters are three little fellas: Bendy, Alice Angel, and Boris. Henry said they animated their adventures and later on, added side characters. The Butcher Gang, if you recall, also consists of a trio: Charley, Barley, and Edgar.

When Henry started storytelling, you felt like a kid back again, he could’ve marked your childhood just as the rest of animators who made those toons while you were a child. Oh, how you treasured these memories, you’ll never forget the time you spent together.

Evoking past times has helped to soothe your headache an itty-bitty, yet you still need to find the ibuprofen.

“Where could it be…” You asked to no one, hoping the walls may respond, even though it’ll never happen.

Seeking everywhere you soon turned the room upside down, papers on the floor resembling a carpet, art supplies rolling across the table (pencils, colors, pens, paintbrushes, blending stumps, etc.) and some books based on anatomy and animation were disorganized on their bookshelves. It all ended after you opened a drawer (this one didn’t need your touch, it was already a disorder) and found what you were looking for, and because of your rashness, more papers fell on the floor.

“Damn, what a mess…” You muttered under your breath a little irritated with yourself for being so careless while searching. You collected the papers and put them in order back again one by one, because of it you grew curious and read some of them, a letter grabbed your attention.

It was one of those fancy letters with a seal and all (what does it say? Seems of importance).

You don’t consider yourself nosy, just interested in its contents.

<<From Joey Drew? Huh, looks like your old buddy send you his salutations after all this time>>

Oh, you had no idea.

Henry knew about the letter, he already read it and did as they told him. The old studio where they used to make dreams come true transformed into a living hell.

‘DEAR HENRY

IT SEEMS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO SINCE WE WORKED ON CARTOONS TOGETHER.

30 YEARS REALLY SLIPS AWAY, DOESN’T IT?

IF YOU ARE BACK IN TOWN, COME VISIT THE OLD WORKSHOP.

THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO SHOW YOU.

YOUR BEST PAL, JOEY DREW’.

You finished reading the letter.

*Snrk*

Well shit.

Did you just read a confession or a love letter? Why not both? You don’t know why, but it feels like one.

“Okay, let’s stop right there. I can’t make jokes on circumstances as these ones”.

What could be so urgent for Joey to write a letter after thirty years of silence?

Should you investigate?

<<The letter could’ve been sent years ago! Henry surely read it; otherwise, it wouldn’t be inside a drawer of his studio, though there’s a possibility he didn’t, I doubt it. He must have seen his friend has written message>>

Okay, sure. Let’s suppose he didn’t pay any mind to the damn thing, you can pretend, now the real issue it’s the location. Joey Drew Studios must be closed (or broken down into pieces, you didn’t know if they decided to demolish the whole building).

“Wake up ___! Face reality, you shouldn’t be fantasizing, this ain’t some silly story with you as a heroine…instead of wasting my time, I shall swallow that damn pill and take some zzz’s”.

You left Henry’s solace and went to bed once again after you swallowed the pill with some water. A dreamless sleep greeted you.

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

Bendy’s POV

“ん乇'丂ムの刀乇”.

Even though he should be celebrating, the Inkarnate can’t seem to find any joy in his being, no emotion tried to overtake him. Why? He doesn’t feel anything. True, he may not possess all the emotions a human has, but anger, joy, sadness, and hysteria weren’t unbeknownst him. There’s no satisfaction nor sorrow towards his creator’s death, not even an ounce of regret. Ok no, he won’t sense any guilt for what happened to Henry, he deserved to die just as much as Joey, but he was grasping straws in here!

How’s it possible to not perceive the slightest of emotion within himself?

The Ink Demon was turning apathetic in regards to the subject; he didn’t have an answer as to why. One thing he’s sure of, his world turned dull no longer exciting as he thought.

It was as if the little dancing demon had opened his eyes for the first time, after all those years blinded by the dripping ink, before that, he only saw what his mind showed him. He finally realized how monochromatic his world truly is.

All is black and white for the demon’s eyes.

A wave of indifference invades his mind and his mind is fuzzy, he dissolves into his inky form and rests.

However, not for much.

“-aHahaHAhahaHahaHAhaha!”

Alice.

That bitch.

He despises her nearly as much as those liars, yet the little devil darling couldn’t give a damn about her right now. Let her laugh all she wants as the malady she’s. The Angel probably got the word, celebrating, unlike him.

Immersing himself even more inside the ink, he found…peace. He can work with that, serenity aids his jumbled thoughts; darkness envelopes him and swallows his body whole.

<<In the end…I feel empty. Is this how revenge it’s supposed to be like?>>

He can’t respond to that, how could he? He doesn’t even know what’s life supposed to feel like.

<<Their imagination cursed us all with life, they couldn’t take responsibility for their actions and show us how to drive through it>>

Back when he was the small little imp everybody loved, there were all kind of colors, unlike now. The studio felt warm in contrast to all the ink that surrounds it now.

The remains of those old days lurk inside the deep abyss as ink creatures, husks who replaced the humans that worked here.

Thinking about it got him tired, Bendy finds himself drifting from consciousness, he’s falling asleep.

“Was it worth it?”

<<Again that cunt>> Despite his thoughts, the Inkarnate didn’t feel irascible towards the narcissist woman. Actually, there isn’t much for him to perceive.

She’s not in here, she wouldn’t dare to step a foot on his domain. The wench had the nerve of placing her cutouts and posters; he destroyed a few just as she did the same. She is communicating with him using a damaged poster with her face.

“I know you can hear me, demon, don’t fake pretend.”

“Wんﾘりのﾘのひ ᄃﾑ尺乇?” He hopes to scare her, even though he knows it won’t work while using his beast form for some reason his speech turns nightmarish. Yet he doesn’t wield it often because of how difficult is controlling his instincts. Thoughts become more primal, talking it’s hard after a few hours transformed in it gets tiring, and he can’t measure his own force. He favors his inky form best: practical and gets the job done.

“I don’t”. So she’s just shitting with him, insufferable.

“Then why ask?”

“Spirit of inquiry. Your relationship intrigues me, up there in Heaven, we get curious as to why you didn’t kill him yourself. And don’t even try to justify your actions. You had many opportunities. The little errand boy nearly ends up killing you, he tried the same with me”.

After listening to what the Angel had to said, his permanent smile turned slowly into a frown. It’s never a good thing when the Lord ain’t wearing one.

“…”

“Well?”

The fallen angel is laughing at him.

“Not even you know the reason behind your acts of mercy!” He remains silent, it’s not like she’s wrong, the little devil does not why he was so resilient with Henry.

After that fiasco, she left him be.

Thanks to Alice’s short visit, Bendy finds questioning why she dropped by. They hate one another, true. She has eyes here and there, but it’s to keep him in line, so he won’t cross an inky limb on her domain. Unlike the female cartoon, he does not have any cutouts, posters, plushies, or ink servants near her place. He wants nothing to do with her. That’s why he finds it so unusual, it’s not like her.

Unless…

She fancies something he has.

<<If that bitch knows what’s good for her, she won’t be picking her nose in my business>>

Later he’ll do his rounds throughout the studio, maybe, the imp will find what she’s searching before she does, whatever it may be, he won’t let her have it.

He’ll make sure of it.

Who knows what her deranged mind has planned; he’s tired of the gruesome scenery this place is in, corpses all around, clones of his ol’ friend bring back unsavory images from the past. Oh, Lawrence, he’s a madman, made satanic circles as a way of showing his devotion towards the black devil. Thanks to Sammy, he has eyes in nearly the entire place.

Yes, he’s aware the musician it’s alive, but Sammy Lawrence continues being of use for him.

<<I’ll take care of him when I wake up…>>

He’s exhausted. However, he stays on his beast form sunken in ink.

The demon’s slumber it’s a peaceful one…

Until you enter his kingdom.

An animalistic rumble shakes the tinted walls.

He’s coming for you.

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

Three days.

You paced on the issue for three days, until you finally had an answer.

“I’m gonna pay a visit to your ol’ pal, maybe he’s still alive…or not…” You lowered your voice in the last part; Henry called Joey a bastard and accused him of being mentally unstable, you trust his word, but what if…what if he changed? There’s a possibility he redeemed himself and went through a rehabilitation process to help him with his instability.

<<I need to look for the address and from there I’ll see what can be done>>

You googled ‘Joey Drew Studios’ on your phone and within seconds Google Maps showed up, you were going to click at it, but then something catches your eye.

An article and it’s quite old.

‘Joey Drew Studios, also known as the workshop. Is an American corporation and an animation studio of the Bendy franchise, established in 1929.

Founded by Joey Drew and Henry Stein in an unknown full date other than the year of 1929, Joey Drew Studios is located at Broadway, Brooklyn, New York City, New York.

In 1946, Joey Drew Studios was under investigation after reports of hazardous work environments, missing employees, harassment, and excessive back pay, as well the company's danger of being bankrupt, all of which are a result of Joey's mismanagement of the studio. Anonymous employees threatened to make labor unions over the poor conditions, which included unpermitted buildings, hazardous electrical wiring, and a plumbing system prone to bursting. In addition, there were excessive work hours, most of which were unpaid and several animators were unable to see their families in weeks, after being threatened with disciplinary action and termination if they were unable to finish animations on tight schedules.

There were reports of barricaded offices, employees locked up in work spaces, and complaints of crazy malfunctioning machinery. Despite the evidence against the company, Joey Drew remained firm that the studio has done nothing wrong, calling the accusations "preposterous" and "ridiculous", dismissing them as either complaint from menial employees, or feeble attempts by competing studios to discredit Joey.

On August 16, 1959, the law firm known as Snooks, Spitner and Snooks sued Joey Drew, having heard the rumors of Joey's mismanaging of his own workers. 12 days later, the studio was closed down in accordance to legal regulation 11 U.S Code § 1125 (which forbids the misrepresentation of legally established companies) as evident by the bankruptcy report found in Joey's apartment, as well as health and safety concerns directly by the mention of a health and safety board meeting schedule found in the appointment lobby.’

Oof.

<<That’s a lot to take in>>

Why the fuck would Henry’s friend would want to meet at that nightmare show? Has he learned nothing after all this years? And not only that, the sucker it´s/was an abusive prick with his employees!

<<Man, you weren’t joking>>

You fear a screw lose isn’t Joey’s only problem.

<<He sounds like an asshole, I don’t want to put up with his shit...I’ve got enough dealing with people like him on a daily basis. Sure, not everyone it’s an ass and there’s some decent/kind people out there, but handling jerks as the likes of him tires me out>>

Sometimes you aren’t the most patient person, it all depends. But this whole ordeal it’s too much for you.

<<The studio is in the big city, New York it’s fucking expensive. I don’t have the money for travelling that far, I’ll have to bid on my savings and package supplies for the journey>>

Crap. Three days and you didn’t think all of this through! How can you be so stupid?!

Now this looks like one of those impulsive decisions you take for being careless and inattentive.

<<How could Henry put up with me when not even I can stand myself?!>>

You need an adult, that’s what you ought to have beside you.

Your life is such a mess sometimes…

“Before spending money on my idiocy I should read more and prepare myself.” You mutter angrily to yourself.

That’s exactly what you did the next two days, finally you are ready for departing.

You grab your backpack and the car’s keys. “Cellphone in the front pocket, all that’s left is open the door, lock it and call Abby, easy.”

During those two days you made a few calls and went up for gas, it was going to be a long trip from Miami to New York. Sure, it ain’t that extensive, but you’ll be driving by yourself for approximately 20 hours. A place to stay, money, gasoline and food are big girl’s problems. Not counting the money you’ll spend on a cheap motel to rest your head.

“That or make a few stops on gas stations…maybe sleeping in the car won’t be that bad…” The good thing is you have options; you aren’t tied solely to one alternative.

<<Abby won’t charge me for doing me this favor, another plus>>

She’ll guard the house in your absence and will call if any emergency transpires.

Now, you are free to go.

<<I hope I made a good decision doing this>>

The first 8 hours were a torment, bored and your ass felt numb of sitting for that long, the last time you remained that still was in high school, since you made your schedule. Your feet hurt just as your arms did. You made a stop for eating and going to the bathroom, after that another 8 hours.

Overall, the journey was relaxing, while driving you admired the views offered to you, savoring each sight. It helped you keeping away some melancholy.

You miss Henry, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself with this excursion of yours, the emptiness stays in the back of your mind.

Your wounds are still fresh, you haven’t mourned properly, because you don’t want to. That’s why you are doing this, to keep yourself busy so you won’t think about it. You need it, you ain’t prepared for it yet.

Soon you’ll be.

After a short nap (before that you made many stops, ‘cuz you’re a whining bitch who ain’t strong enough to control her fucking bladder), you started driving again. You have three or four hours left on the road.

Time to listen some music, you activate Bluetooth and connect your phone to the car’s stereo, finally you found a song of your liking in Spotify and play it. You spent the rest of the trip singing along; sometimes you’ll speed up a little bit on the spur of the moment.

Soon you got to your destination, didn’t waste time changing clothes, you collapsed on the bed in the motel and slept for an hour. After that, you washed yourself and got ready for visiting Joey Drew.

“Here goes nothing…”

You regret already coming here, silly you just ruined a change of clothes! Why is there so much ink? You’ll never get out the ink of your shoes, fuck! You have been here for less than ten minutes and all went to shit for you! It doesn’t help this place keeps giving you the heebies-jeebies! Every time you take a step on the creaky wooden floor it feels as if someone is following you, like a slithering sound. The ink splashes keep creeping you out, if it wasn’t black you would think it’s blood, Jesus Christ.

<<Thank God, the lights still work; it would make this place spookier if they didn’t>>

As you venture further deeper into the studio, a beast rumbles, shaking everything around you, more ink drops fall.

At that moment…

…you knew you fucked up.

So you hide.

Your mind provides you one last thought before going high drive

‘WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!’

<<FUUU-

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #fanfic #bendy #boris the wolf #alice angel #bendyxreader #sammy lawrence #henry stein #reader #Dance For Me Fanfic #bendy fanfic #BATIM fanfic #batim fanfic

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gvbejvmes · 4 years ago

Text

Drabble Days - Drabble 1

Title: The Inside of a Tiffany Lamp Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gabriel/Nancy, Gabriel/Johnny Trigger Warnings: For the first part only -- Child abuse, homophobia, and homophobic slurs.

1979

Gabriel James sat at the kitchen table, tongue peeking out from between his teeth. His grandma had given him a set of fancy colored pencils for Christmas and he’d been putting them to use ever since. There had been some concern that he was too little for such a sharp gift, but it was like his hands were made for colored pencils. He knew how to hold them, how to move his hand so the lead wouldn’t snap in his hand. Some of it he had remembered from kindergarten, but most of it came naturally. He let his hand guide the way. They tended to know what his mind wanted to do.

He’d been working on this drawing for a couple of days. There was this cool lamp that was sitting in the stock room of the store, and Gabe knew it would make for an awesome drawing. So he spent two whole days at work with his dad so he could sit in the back and draw. He’d spent hours upon hours drawing the lamp so it looked perfect. Then he’d spent a whole day coloring his drawing in. It looked so cool. Even though the base of the lamp had looked better in his head than on paper, it still looked pretty good. It was loads better than anything Missy Hamilton drew (even though their teacher said she was so much better at coloring inside the lines than he was).

Once the drawing was done, he’d blown on it to get any extra color off, and gently smoothed it down on the backside. It needed to be absolutely perfect. He waited until after dinner to give his dad the drawing. “I made this for you.” He said, proudly presenting him with his days of hard work. Gabriel couldn’t help but to fidget nervously as he waited to see what his dad’s reaction was going to be.

Francis looked at the piece of paper. “What is this shit?” His lip curled up into an ugly sneer. He blinked a couple of times as he took in Gabe’s careful line work and coloring. “Why the fuck do I need this?” He held it a little further back before crumpling it into a ball. “It looks like a waste of time if you ask me. Can’t even tell what it is.”

He could feel his bottom lip shaking. All those hours and hours of work and for what? For his dad to just ball it up like it was trash? He couldn’t cry though. If he cried, his dad would just hit him. He really had thought that his dad was going to like it. He spent enough time at the store; he thought he’d like a picture of the coolest looking thing in there.

“Oh, Francis, look.” Maria unfurled the ball of paper, smoothing it out so Francis could get a better look at it. Gabe felt himself flinching as her fingers smoothed over the front of the drawing, smearing colors in places they weren’t supposed to go. “It’s the Tiffany lamp that we bought at that estate sale. Look! There’s the glass stones that make up the flowers, and there’s the base.” She smiled warmly at Gabe. “It looks just like the lamp, Gabriel.”

His father huffed and took the drawing again, blinking at it a few times. “Why do I need a picture of a lamp? It’s a lamp.” He crumpled the drawing up again and tossed it in the direction of the kitchen. “You shouldn’t spend so much time drawing anyway. Only sissies draw.”

And that was too much for Gabe to handle. He took off running to his room, tears streaming down his face as he ran. As soon as he was in the room he shared with his little sister, he crawled into the open closet. All he wanted to do was hide. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and looped his arms around them, burying his face into his knees and cried.

“My G?” A little voice asked, and his two year old sister crawled into the closet with him. Crap. He was pretty sure his mom had already put her down for the night. He must have been too loud. “You okay, my G?” And Georgiana poked and poked at his head until he looked up at her. “Why crying, my G?”

Gabe scrubbed at his face. Boys weren’t supposed to cry. He knew that much. His dad told him that all the time, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. He let his legs down, and Georgiana immediately scrambled onto his lap, her little head leaning against him. “Dad didn’t like my drawing. I worked so hard on it, and he crumpled it up like it was trash.” He knew his sister probably had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“You draw pretty.” Georgiana decided. “Better than books.” She pressed a hand against his cheek before yawning. “Draw me princesses.”

A watery smile slid onto his face. “I’ll draw you as a princess.” He decided. “You’d make the prettiest princess.”

Georgiana yawned again. “Us as princesses. I want us as princesses.” She decided firmly.

This time Gabe yawned. “Okay, but we can’t show Dad, okay?”

“Okay.” His little sister said as she drifted off to sleep. “Okay."

1990

Gabe sat on top of one of the lunch tables in the middle of the quad. He had an hour to kill before baseball practice, which meant he had plenty of time to draw. Usually he liked to sketch the other kids who had a free seventh period. And when there was no one else out there, he would draw the leftover trash from lunch and the birds picking at the leftovers. Today there was a group of girls sitting at the tables, laughing and pretending to do their homework. Of course, he knew who the girls were, but it wasn’t as though they were friends. Maureen, Nancy, Darla, and Louise: Roswell High School’s bitch squad.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was sketching out the four girls. It started out as just one of his basic sketches, but when the sun hit Nancy just right, he switched his focus to her. He flipped to a new page of his sketchbook and focused on Nancy. A part of him wished he had his colored pencils with him or even watercolor (even though he hated working with watercolors). He had always thought Nancy was beautiful, in an art sort of way, but the way the light hit her… For a moment he wondered if he thought she was beautiful in more than just an art sort of way. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in real life, and the lighting just made her look even more so.

He spent the entirety of the seventh period drawing Nancy. He focused on the way the sun made her skin look dewy, and the way her hair looked like spun gold before working on her eyes. In real life they always looked a little cold, but he added a little bit more warmth. He’d caught her mid-laugh and she just looked so happy.

“Is that me?”

He looked up in horror to find Nancy Conrad standing in front of him looking at his drawing. There was a look on her face he’d never seen before, and it made him blush. God, he couldn’t believe that he let himself get so caught up in his drawing that he didn’t even realize she’d walked over to him. “Uhm, yeah.” He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Before he could talk himself out of it, he urgently tore the page out of his sketchbook and handed it to her. “I made this for you. Figured you’d want a reminder of how hot you look today.”

Nancy took the page from him, and studied for a long while before looking back at him, a smile on her face. “It’s missing something though.” And there was something in her voice that Gabe thought was odd, but he didn’t realize what it was until it was too late. “Your number isn’t on it.”

Oh, fuck. Was she flirting with him? Fuck, she was. She definitely was. Against his better judgement, he took the sketch back from her and scrawled his number in the corner like it was his signature. “There. All fixed.”

The second he handed it back to her, Nancy took off running back to her girls and he could hear the other girls squealing. Girls… They were too much.

“Gabe…” His best friend Derrick was suddenly standing next to him. “Why is the Bitch Squad looking at you and giggling?” When Gabe didn’t respond, Derrick punched him in the arm. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Gabe lied as he packed up his bag. “Absolutely nothing.”

2018

So, what difference does it make? So, what difference does it make? It makes none. But now you have gone and you must be looking very old tonight. The devil will find work for idle hands to do I stole and I lied, and why? Because you asked me to! But now you make me feel so ashamed.

What Difference Does It Make?

The floor of Gabe’s studio at the Collective was covered in newspaper as Gabe sat on the ground in front of a low table. There was a canvas spread out across the table - a canvas that Gabe had spent the past day acid washing to get it just right. There was a vision in his head and he was going to make it look perfect. He’d been up all night experimenting with ash and soot and how they retained color. His idea wouldn’t work if he couldn’t get the ash to hold the color just right. And he needed his idea to work. It had to work; it just had to. He didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t.

His Smith’s album was suddenly turned off, and he glanced up in surprise to find Kale in his studio with him. Frowning, he slid his glasses up into his hair and blinked wearily at his best friend, who he was now living with. How an eccentric millionaire had become his best friend was beyond him, but here they were. “Why’d you have to do that for?” He complained, yawning. God, how long had he been in his studio for?

Kale didn’t say anything at first. Instead he filled the electric kettle with water and took bread out of the breadbox and popped it into the microwave in Gabe’s kitchenette. “I got confirmation from my guy.” And that was one of the hundred quirks of Kaleidoscope Johnson - he had a guy for everything. “Jonathan was served the divorce papers yesterday morning.”

It was quiet. Gabe didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t lightly sketching out the lines for his painting either. Kale glanced over at him, but focused instead on making toast. In fact, he didn’t say anything until he had smeared jam on the toast and made two cups of herbal tea. He set everything down on the coffee table and beckoned Gabe to join him on the couch. When Gabe didn’t move, he rolled his eyes. “You didn’t come home last night.”

There was something about the way he said it that had Gabe pulling himself to his feet and stumbling over to the couch next to him. He picked up on his mugs and rolled it between the palms of his hand. It wasn’t his mug. It was one of Jay’s. He wasn’t going to tell Kale that though. Breathing in the scent of his tea, he stared into the pink water instead of looking at the other man.

“I’m not the poster child for healthy life choices, but when was the last time you slept?” Gabe rolled the cup between his hands. “You’re right. You’re not the person who should be asking me that.” He set his tea down, and picked up one of the slices of toast. After taking a bite, he sighed softly. “Shit, I don’t know.”

Kale took the other slice of toast, but didn’t take a bite. “What are you going to do, Gabey?” His gaze dropped over to Gabe’s work-in-progress. “What the point? You’re gonna paint your ex and what? Put it on display? Drop it off at the house with a note? I know I dumped you, but here, I made this for you?”

Rolling his eyes, Gabe viciously took a bite of his toast. “Fuck you.” He grumbled out, mid-bite.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” He wrapped an arm around Gabe. “Can we go home now or are you going to keep up the artist recluse thing you have going on right now?”

Gabe picked up his tea. “Can we maybe just sit here for a while?” He murmured out softly. “Yeah, okay.”

2019

“Mr. James?” He was sitting in his office going over the budget when there was a knock at his office door. It was Kid. He said he was 18, but Gabe was pretty sure he was closer to 16. “You got a minute?”

Gabe couldn’t help but to smile at him. “Got more than a couple.” He closed his laptop and looked at him. There was something about him that reminded him so much of the life he could have had. “What’s up Kid?”

Instead of saying anything, he threw a small canvas down on Gabe’s desk. “I-made-this-for-you.” He mumbled out, suddenly looking down at his feet.

Gently picking it up, Gabe couldn’t help but to grin. It looked like his Narcissus, except it was spray-painted. “You made this for me?” He couldn’t help the teasing smile that slid onto his features.

Kid looked very very embarrassed all of a sudden. “I mean, I looked you up finally. Your work is okay and shit.” He shrugged out.

“You’ve been living here for two months, and you just now looked me up?” A wry smile slid onto his features.

The teenager side dramatically. “Ugh. I knew you were going to make a big deal about this.” He huffed out before throwing his hands up in the air and leaving Gabe’s office.

2020

They were laying on the floor of the Marchette Gallery. Gabe had gotten permission from Nik to stay in the gallery with Jay overnight. There was an air mattress on the floor and at one point there had been a bottle of wine and a picnic. It was long gone now, and now they were just laying on the air mattress, the lights of the blue room from his Reflections show licking at their skin.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been laying there, staring at his art in the dark. He felt like he was five again, giving his father his drawing of that Tiffany lamp he hated. The only difference was that he knew Johnny had liked his pieces. “Did I ever tell you about this Tiffany lamp we had at the antique shop when I was little?”

Johnny was still staring at the way the blue lights reflected off the walls. “A real one?” He asked as he linked their hands together.

“Yeah.” He turned his head to watch Jay’s face. “Did you know there’s more to a Tiffany lamp than just the mosaic shade? When people buy knock-offs, they only focus on the shade, but there’s more to it than that. The real beauty is in the base. It ties the theme together.” He watched Jay’s face as he processed the information.

It was like a light bulb went off and Johnny immediately glanced at the base of the walls. Among the lights that were casting the shades of blue across the wall, were intricate silver wire twisted up together in the shape of fish. They snaked up the base of the walls, catching the light and sending it back through the room.

“Briel?” And now Johnny was looking at him. “Did you create the inside of a Tiffany lamp for me?”

Grinning, Gabe shifted so he was straddling him. “This might be brand new information for you, but I made this for you. I made all this for you.”

The other man ran gentle fingers over his face. “I hadn’t noticed.” He murmured out softly. “I never would have guessed.”

#drabble #drabble days #pairing: Gabe/Johnny #pairing: Gabe/Nancy #repost

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hitodama89 · 5 years ago

Text

Because I’m still not over what a mind-boggling disaster the whole process of creating that pixel animation from yesterday was, I actually want to share the painful details with you! Which is extremely unprofessional of me, as everyone who has felt any ounce of respect towards me or my art will absolutely lose it hahah, but the good thing is I’m not a professional so it doesn’t matter for real.

So, the beginning part I have already told: I drew the whole thing, looked at it and decided that I actually want to make it look good. There’s really no way to do that in pixel art without putting every shitty little pixel down individually, so that’s the method I used while redrawing 90 % of the thing (only some of the coloring could be saved). During this I redrew Näkki’s braid I think 4 times and the northern lights 2,5 times.

Then I once again looked at it and thought “man, this really would be neat as an animation”. The idea had been in my mind ever since the beginning, but I never intended to truly chase it. Well now I did, but because I’m an idiot the whole thing was on like 3 layers and I had to manually separate elements from each other to make anything work. (During this I actually made a cool discovery though! Gimp usually considers one layer as one frame of animation, but one layer folder is also just one frame! This made things so much easier.) First I made Näkki move, and then I added some slight movement to water, stars and the light effects on the ice. Then it was the northern lights which were really tedious... Because I sort of forgot that I had drawn a separate base form for them that I was supposed to be able to edit easily. Whoops. But what can I say: at this point the whole thing was already in three separate files: the first one contained a non-pixel sketch and reference images, the second one was the actual pixelated piece and the third one, which I was now working with, had the animation. The base was on the second file, so of course I never remembered it existed!

But no matter, the thing was now basically ready to go! So I once again did the mistake of looking at it... And realized the animation wasn’t paced the way I wanted. (This is when I posted the preview image.) Näkki’s breathing looked too fast, and slowing down the whole thing looked just awkward. I was afraid I’d have to make a couple of new frames for it, but after sleeping a night I decided I’d instead duplicate all the frames and make Näkki and the background elements move at different paces. That seemed like a good compromise... In theory. In practice? I would’ve survived with so, so much less if I’d just added the two frames like I originally meant to.

How would I even describe the mess that followed... Even though I had only 3-4 layers in one layer folder (GOD why didn’t I separate things even more than I did?!) some of them had several separate objects moving in different paces. It was a total nightmare and if I had to explain where everything is in like a month, I would likely not understand it even myself. =‘D The stars and the ice effects had three frames that went back and forth and the water had three frames but it looped instead. The northern lights had... Four frames? They also went back and forth, just like Näkki who had only three frames. But Näkki’s frames had a rhythm of 2-2-4 frames instead of the normal 1-1-1. Then there was also Näkki’s breath clouds. First there was maybe 5 frames of them, but when I doubled the frame count I drew more in-betweens for them. In the end it looked off because they were so close to Näkki who moved much slower, so I actually deleted the new frames and made the original ones move on 2-2-2 speed.

At this point I have no idea how many things I had redrawn, because everything was constantly this close to just falling apart, so I had pretty much not enough brain power to keep count of them. But... Somehow I stumbled to the finish line! And saved it as a gif, watched it to see the possible damage the compression had done and... Was fairly satisfied. Except for the color of the sky, which originally had a gradient in it. The gradient absolutely didn’t work with gif palette, so I went back and made the sky colors more flat. Aaand that somehow left some weird stripes of the original sky color into a few frames. Okay, this is fine, I can deal with it. I delete the stripes. Now the water animation is completely fucked up! At this point I was too tired to make the connection between deleting the stripes and the messed up water, so all I could think was that I just hadn’t noticed the thing before and it was actually gif optimization that had done the damage. I go back and basically redo the animation without optimization, which takes about three tries because I am TIRED and always lose a frame or two somewhere and it’s easier to just do the thing over from the beginning than start searching what went wrong and where. Finally all looks as it should! Except now I have to change the sky again. And delete the stripes. And nOW THE WATER IS FUCKED AGAIN.

Now I finally realized that the water actually had some of the same color as the stripes I had deleted, and those pixels got accidentally deleted, too. I laugh and cry and correct my mistake. The thing is fucking finally finished! I go to sleep and decide to return to the shitshow tomorrow.

Next day I come to assess the damage, but fortunately I don’t find much. The most horrifying thing is that when I was already dead tired I had actually overwritten a wrong file at some point, so I had replaced the cryptid animation from last summer with a messed up version of this animation. (It was named “cryptid” and this was “colors”, so they were close to each other.) Thank god I had uploaded it to several places on internet, so I could just download it back to my computer! Besides that the animation still looked decent, but I still decide to fix one little thing with Näkki’s hair. I’ll do it, save it and upload it to dA. And realize I had forgotten to save it as an animation. Thank the merciful gods of the universe I hadn’t shut down Gimp just yet, because if I had done that I would’ve lost... A lot of work and would’ve needed to create the animation for 65674564236145th time.

Soooo yeah, that’s finally it. I saved the thing again as an animation and swore to never look at it too closely again, because doing that is apparently really, really cursed.

The lesson of the day: actually plan your animations in order to not end up like this! =‘‘‘D

#rambling

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fanaticfangirl001 · 5 years ago

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The One and Only Ms.Mercury pt 2

Rami x reader (Freddie’s daughter)

Author’s note: Let’s do this guys!

Vocab words: Take away- delivery food. (In the Uk you can get more than pizza delivered)

Also for future reference: Dad refers to Freddie, Papa refers to Jim.

Ps: This one seemed short, but it also seemed natural to stop it there.

Thought you guys might enjoy this.

@queen-irl-af

@kiillerqueeen

@rami-malek-trash

*I guess I’ll use the same gif because the other gifs aren’t loading.

Y/n kicks off her shoes near the front door and goes up the stairs to her room. She flops onto her bed and picks up her sketchbook from the night stand. Grabbing a pencil she sketches a simple drawing of her dad’s, based off a picture inside a little pink frame that’s laying on her desk. Y/n is sitting on Freddie’s lap. Both of them are wearing plastic tiaras and feather boas,eating cake. It’s from her second birthday.

Her art style has varied during her four years on YouTube but it typically stays within a cartoon like style, roundish characters with thick outlines. Many of her professors hated the style but she never really cared what they said, as most of the artwork that they preferred were sad people, or too pretentious for Y/n’s liking. She didn’t really show many people her artwork offline in “real life” due to many of their “criticisms”.

Y/n sets down her sketchbook, and walks over to her cabinet of art supplies, mostly gifted to her by the companies for reviewing it, or from art subscription boxes. She pulls out two watercolor palettes one for the skin tones, and another for bright metallic neons. Y/n tosses some fine liner markers onto her bed followed by the pallet.

She drops herself onto the bed and starts erasing the lines lightly so she can line them with the markers. Rolling the kneaded eraser in her hands, Y/n starts thinking: This movie is going to change things. The only reason I’m not hounded by reporters is because I stay in and stay out of the spotlight. Me helping on this movie, thrusts me into some spotlight. I’m also a woman so there’s that added pressure.

Y/n puts down her eraser and closes her sketchbook. She walks to the bathroom and stares into the mirror. She rubs the bottom of her chin, bumpy due to the acne that wanted to stick around and takes the pony-tail holder out of her hair. Spotlight, do I need an esthetician, or a glam squad when I leave the house? Am I British Kardashian? I mean I have the ass of one, and that’s from take-away. Are people going to expect me to dress like my dad?

Y/n shakes her head of all the crazy thoughts and started the water for a nice soothing bath. She finds the four bath bubblers from Lush and crumbles them under the faucet. The bubbles and foam threaten to overfill the tub. Y/n strips off her jumper and jeans. She carefully sinks into the bath. Her phone rings to the custom ring meaning that her Uncle John is calling. Y/n carefully stands up and grabs her phone.

“How was the business dinner?” John asks once Y/n picks up.

“You knew.” Y/n says exasperated shaking her head.

“You didn’t?” John adds.

“Nope, disguised it like a family dinner. There’s gonna be a Queen movie, by the way.” Y/n adds.

“Are you going to be on set?” John asks.

“No I’m just gonna let them fuck my dad’s image up the arse.” Y/n sasses her uncle.

“Language Y/n, who the fuck taught you those words.” John sasses back.

“Did you just want to sass your niece or is there a reason for this lovely phone call?” Y/n asks

“Luke said you seemed upset after the dinner, and I wanted to check up on you.” John says.

“Uncle John, you’re getting sappy.” Y/n teases.

“Let a grouchy old man care about his niece, who needs to visit him more.” John replies.

“I’m sensing you also want me to visit because I made chocolate cake and brought it the last time.” Y/n muses.

“Call it a consolation prize.” John offers.

“Are you saying that you were suffering because my presence was not there.” Y/n says dramatically.

“Severely.” John sasses her with his dramatics.

“I’ll come by more.” Y/n adds, “ With cake.”

The typical goodbyes are said and Y/n hangs up the phone to enjoy the rest of her bubble bath.

She carefully gets out and grabs a towel to dry off, then puts on a fluffy purple robe.

I need to edit, record a voice over, and then go back to the drawing.

Y/n walks over to her desk and sits down ready to edit. The video she filmed yesterday is a review of a subscription box and using the art supplies in it. The sketch went well but as she went on to color it, something seemed off and it looked better in black and white. This sometimes happened when she worked with a supply she wasn’t familiar with like makers. She speed up the sketching and erasing portion of the video and shortened the thirty minutes of drawing down to fifteen minutes, including the initial opening and swatching of the materials. Y/n takes a sip of water and plugs in her microphone to record her commentary.

She begins introducing the video and its main contents being the box and the challenge of using all the materials in it to make something. Y/n during the swatching section says the colors of markers: a mustard yellow, olive green, and a cranberry red might be a little difficult to use together, and that she isn’t very comfortable with markers but she’ll make the best of it. The first idea for her challenge is to draw a person but every practice attempt was erased because she didn’t like the head, or the proportions.

Y/n finally decided on drawing a badger wearing a yellow bobble-hat, sitting on a moss covered log, eating berries. Her commentary ranged from artistic decisions, to wonder what badgers actually eat, or if a badger could comprehend the color yellow and all it’s majesticness. Most people that watch her videos enjoy her ramblings in the background as they see a piece go from a brainstorm to a finished project, because she seems so genuine and a little odd. Y/n signs off from her video in the traditional way with “ Stay weird, Stay Mad, and always draw with Mercury.”

She chose the name Drawing With Mercury, for two reasons: one, Y/n’s favorite Disney movie has always been Alice in Wonderland, especially for the character, Mad Hatter, and two, she wanted to use her last name since, it’s a pretty cool last name, and you only live once. She uploaded her first video and received a warm welcome from her subscribers. In the beginning there were a few mean comments but they weren’t about her appearance as she only showed her hands in her videos.

Y/n splices the audio with the video and rewatches herself draw, erase, draw again, ink, then color her drawing. She uploads the video and waits for it to be complete which for this video and with her wifi connection it would take around an hour. She opens her sketchbook back to the drawing of her birthday with Dad and takes out her water color pallet. Dipping her water brush pen into the paint, a small tear dripped from her eyes, fell from her cheek and onto the corner of the page.

“I miss you, Dad.” Y/n says to no one as she fills in his face with color.

There was no copying the photograph perfectly. Freddie in the pictures, looking down at his messy daughter with chocolate cake on her face, his face shows nothing but adoration and pure happiness. It was his idea for a princess party, since every Sunday the three of them would have tea parties and Y/n always loved dressing up. Y/n looking up at her dad with same look in her eyes as his.

Y/n rubs her eyes and continues painting the party outfits, even the feather boas and tiaras. She puts the sketchbook on her dresser letting the paint dry and falls onto her bed. She opens her small jewelry box on her nightstand and takes out her silver heart locket with a smaller heart diamond on the front. Y/n opens the locket looking at the small picture of her Dad and Papa.

“I miss you, Papa.” She says again, to no one.

She lightly kisses the locket and puts it back in the box, and puts it in the first drawer of the night stand. Y/n pulls the covers tightly around herself and slowly falls asleep to the rain hitting the roof.

#rami malek x reader #rami x reader #rami malek imagines #rami malek #plus-sized reader

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chocoluckchipz · 5 years ago

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Dance with Me, Chaton - 4

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

Written for @ladynoirjuly2019

< Previous

4. Babysitting

Chat Noir: Okay, so, if we’re doing this we’ve got to give everyone a code name.

Ladybug: We already have them. Chat Noir and Ladybug?

Chat Noir: But what about M Agreste?

Ladybug: Why does he need one? We can call him The Boss.

Chat Noir: Too obvious.

Ladybug: What’s wrong with that?

Chat Noir: Nothing unless someone hacks us? We'll be in huge trouble.

Ladybug: :thinking: Won't they see us giving the codenames in the first place?

Chat Noir: We’ll delete these messages.

Ladybug: I feel like it’s easier to agree than argue OTL

Chat Noir: You’ve got it, my Lady.

Ladybug: Okay fine. Let’s do Hawk.

Chat Noir: Hawk? O_o Why?

Ladybug: Because hawks symbolize creativity, wisdom and determination. M Agreste is a hawk.

Chat Noir: Pfft. No? He’s more like a moth. Cooped up in his room all day with fabrics around him.

Ladybug: Hawk.

Chat Noir: Moth.

Ladybug: Listen. If anyone will hack us it’s better to have a more noble code name for him. Just in case.

Chat Noir: And I’ll take full responsibility but he’s a moth.

Ladybug: And you’re stubborn. Okay, fine. Let’s combine them. Mothy Hawk?

Chat Noir: Hawky Moth? LOL

Ladybug: LOL Nope. Hawkmoth? Or Mothhawk?

Chat Noir: LMAO Let’s go with Hawkmoth. It sounds more evil.

Ladybug: Hawkmoth it is then.

Ladybug: So, what do you propose we do? How do we convince them to do something about those designs?

Chat Noir: :thinking: Tbh, I haven’t really thought about any strategies yet. Let’s see what’s realistic at this point at first. I get it that there is no time for creating new designs?

Ladybug: Nope. With a month left till the big show? No way.

Chat Noir: What about pulling them?

Ladybug: We’ll lose at least 10 out of 15 outfits from that line. Not really an option either.

Chat Noir: So, fixing the existing once?

Ladybug: That’s the only way I see it.

Chat Noir: So let’s do this. We’ll sketch the existing designs sans the abomination and present it to him and idk maybe a survey of the company’s employees on which version they prefer? To show him that people hate his “innovations.”

Ladybug: Yeah. Only the issue is no one has access to the full collection apart from Hawkmoth himself. Multiple designers worked on that line over a few months and even they don't know which outfits made the final cut and which didn't. You know how Hawkmoth likes to keep his lines as much a secret as possible to prevent the leaks?

Chat Noir: I admire your adaptability, my Lady ;3 Using the code names already.

Ladybug: LOL I won’t admit that I retyped that message a few times because I kept writing his real name XD

Chat Noir: Still impressive, Okay so we need access to his collection. Suppose we’ll get it. What’s then? I can’t really draw.

Ladybug: Then you’re lucky I can. But I really don’t see how we can get them. Rumours say he keeps everything on his work computer under the state-of-the-art security system.

Chat Noir: Oh shoot. I have to go, my Lady. Let’s think about it and chat later?

Ladybug: Sure. My cue, as well. Thanks for doing this, Chat.

Chat Noir: My purrleasure.

Adrien put the phone away as he noticed Kagami approaching. She was typing something on her cellphone but as soon as she caught him in her side vision, Kagami smiled and waved.

He smiled. Not so subtle, are we, Ladybug?“Good morning, Mlle Tsurugi.”

“Call me Kagami.” The girl smiled at him, putting her cellphone away. “I thought we’ve been over that yesterday.”

“Yes, we’ve been.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I haven't gotten used to this yet.”

She chuckled. “You’re socially awkward, Adrien. That’s adorable, but we’ll need to work on that. A future leader of such a company as Gabriel needs to exude confidence.”

“Right.” Adrien straightened subconsciously. “I’ll work on that.”

“Should we go then?”

“Your shadow for the next few days is ready.”

Kagami smiled, her eyebrow arched. “Good. Because I have quite a few things to show you today.”

And so, Adrien’s mission to confirm that Kagami Tsurugi was the mysterious Ladybug had started. It fitted splendidly. She was fierce and brave and wouldn’t take nonsense from anyone, including his father. Though, with him, she’d held back, expressing her opinion in a polite but confident way. Although he couldn’t confirm her drawing abilities, mentioned in this morning’s chat, that didn’t dishearten Adrien. He’d find a way to do so later without bringing unwanted attention to himself. He couldn’t risk her learning his identity now, not when they’d only just started their conspiracy online.

***

Chat Noir: I hope your day was enjoyable, My Lady.

Ladybug: More or less. Had a lot of work and babysitting to do.

Chat Noir: Babysitting? At Gabriel? Or you skipped work?

Ladybug: LOL. Nope. Babysitting at work. I had a tail following me everywhere today. An intern to educate.

Adrien bit on his lip. Universities had just ended their school year, and Gabriel had a lot of interns following many of his regular employees. It could’ve been anyone. Or Ladybug must be being smart and calling him an intern, so she could still mention her troubles without revealing her identity.

Chat Noir: Were they annoying? It doesn’t sound like you’ve enjoyed the experience calling it babysitting.

Ladybug: XD No they were fine. It’s just a term we’re using for interns. “Babies” because they have no idea what they are in for. And as such, having an intern is babysitting.

Chat Noir: LOL Fitting. So? Do you have any ideas regarding our project?

Ladybug: Sadly no. I’ve thought of showing crazy designs vs regular ones to a third-party and ask their opinion and then show the results to Hawkmoth, but that’ll be leaking the designs. We’ll get fired immediately.

Chat Noir: Didn’t we discuss surveying the company? Not a third-party?

Ladybug: I don’t see how anyone’s opinion inside Gabriel can convince him to change his mind. Someone Hawkmoth admires has to tell him and we all work for him. Not exactly that admiring.

Chat Noir: Well, then we’re thinking more. Say, Ladybug, can I ask you a question?

Ladybug: Shoot, but be quick cause I’m about to call it a day.

Chat Noir: Got it :3 I was wondering what got you to change your mind and go for this? Trying to convince Hawkmoth again.

She took her time to reply, but when she did, Adrien straightened in his seat.

Ladybug: Do you remember how I told you Adrien Agreste was a stuck up antisocial prick?

Chat Noir: Clearly.

Ladybug: Well. Happens I was wrong about him, so I thought if I was wrong about him, I might be wrong about his father not be willing to listen and change.

Adrien huffed and typed.

Chat Noir: Oh, you were right about Gabriel Agreste. Let me assure you. He’s pretty unchangeable and doesn’t like to listen. Believe me. Talking from personal experience.

Ladybug: That’s a pity.

Chat Noir: But he can bargain.

Ladybug: That’s something. The hope lives on ;)

Chat Noir: Let’s hope so, but may I ask what made you change your opinion on younger Agreste?

Ladybug: I guess, meeting him myself. I might have previously formed my opinion on his character based on rumours, the fact that his BFF was Chloe Bourgeois and he dated Lila Rossi. I mean what sane person would hang around those ladies?

Chat Noir: You know the Lila rumours are false, right?

Ladybug: They are?

Chat Noir: Completely. I’ve heard him say himself. In fact, it quite surprised him to hear them. He’d met Lila just yesterday, and it wasn’t anything he’d love to repeat.

Ladybug: But he’s still friends with Chloe?

Chat Noir: Yeah, but only because he wasn’t allowed to attend a public school, and she was the only one around. Though I’ve heard they are not as close now as they used to, and he’s got normal friends in his university.

Ladybug: You know quite a lot about him, don’t you?

Chat Noir: Side-effects of working close to his father. Nothing unusual.

Ladybug: Right. XD Well, I’m glad he's a decent person. He seemed to be. Anyway. I have to go now, Chat. Goodnight.

Chat Noir: Goodnight my Lady.

I’ll see you tomorrow, he whispered into the silence of his room.

_______________________________________________________________________

Next >

#ladynoirjuly2019 #penpal au #aged up #ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrienette #dancing au #club au

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ask-de-writer · 4 years ago

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 9 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 9 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 3: Of Silor and Crabs

The next day, while they were processing the Glue Fish, it became apparent what Roper was up to.

“Look!” said Kurin, just below a shout, “Roper and a couple of little kids are taking out a boat!” She dashed quickly for the rail, to see better, and came back laughing.

“What’s so funny?” asked Marad. “I could use a good laugh. These cookers stop being fun after the first few minutes. It’s not like making crab cakes. That I can do as long as there’s crabs and paddle duck eggs.”

“Roper and the kids have taken out crabbing ring nets. That must be what he wanted the depth to bottom around here for.”

Marad joined her in laughter based on superior knowledge. They both knew that crabs liked shallow reefs. Still, they wished the children well for their enthusiasm. “Maybe they’ll catch a flounder or some other bottom fish in one of the nets,” said Marad with a smile. “I’ll cook it special for their dinner if they do.”

On the small boat, Roper was directing the others (after all, the expedition was his idea). Any other time, the foray might not have been so well received, but busy parents wanted their scampering progeny out from under foot.

“Be sure to get those knots tight Luin,” he directed unnecessarily, “and you, Moren, pay the lines out carefully so there are no tangles. We don’t want Silor saying anything about our seamanship.”

Luin looked up from her chore of fastening the floats to the extra long lines. “That’s sure. He wanted to come with us today ‘to keep us safe.’ The Captain really lit into him for something yesterday and ordered him not to come with us this morning. I saw it. Oh, the baits are all secure and the floats are ready.”

“Let’s put the first one over the side,” said Roper suddenly hesitant, now that his plan was actually coming together. “Then we’ll put the rest in a big circle, so when we’re done with the last one, we’ll be ready to pick up the first one. Unless someone can think of a better way to do it?” he questioned at the last.

Luin and Moren looked quietly at him for a moment. They understood. Even in play, command could be difficult. They shook their heads. “It’s a good plan. Let’s do it.” The first net went over the side. It took a long time to reach the bottom. There was a comfortable amount of slack when it did. The rest of the nets went just as neatly and without a hitch.

The circle complete, it was time for the first net to be retrieved. The problem was that it didn’t want to be brought up. Luin hooked the line beneath the float with a boat hook and hauled it in until it went tight, coiling it neatly as she did so. She had an odd, concentrating look as she pulled.

“Something’s holding it onto the bottom,” she said decisively.

��You mean that it’s snagged on something,” Roper said in exasperation.

“No, I mean that something is holding it down there. I can feel it moving around. I think that we can get it if we all pull steadily on the line for a while. Every time it moves we can loosen its grip a bit”

Roper thought it over for a short time and agreed. All three began pulling steadily on the light rope. It was not long before whatever it was came loose from the bottom, and they could feel it flailing about on the end of the line, all the way up. As the net came into view, a fathom or so down, they could see it through the murky, rippled water.

Moren said excitedly, “I never saw a crab that big! Look at those legs!” They gazed in awe at what they had. The crab was wider than the net. If it had not entangled some of its legs in the meshes they’d have never got it all. Its shell was green and pale white, a foot and a half across, but the wonder was its legs. They spanned just over a fathom from claw tip to claw tip and the creature was flailing them about, trying to get a purchase on anything.

Luin stopped them from just dragging it aboard. “That thing’s big, and we know that it’s strong. How will we handle it? It’s wider than the boat.”

After some thought Moren said, “I don’t think that it can lift me. If I get on its back, you guys can catch the legs one at a time and tie them together with the string we brought for tying claws shut.”

All agreed, so they hauled it on in. It wasn’t easy, but they got it into the boat. Moren jumped onto its back and they found that it could lift him — and it wanted back into the water. It was quite insistent about it but the children were equally determined that it would stay in the boat. First Roper caught a leg and held it while Luin tied it with string. Another flailing leg took him in the ribs, but he held on to that one as well, and Luin bound it to the first one. A mad tumble of crab and children resulted in a big crab, unable to move, its legs all tied with string, and now freed from the ring net.

Setting the net back out was put off while they went to try the next net in high excitement. It was empty. Luin neatly coiled the lines and stowed them. The third yielded two crabs of the same type but smaller, one about three feet across, and one nearer to four. While they battled the four foot wide crab, the three footer cunningly sneaked over the side and got away. Each of the remaining crab rings gave them a crab in the five foot size range. By now, the group were seasoned warriors and secured their catch without too much trouble.

“I don’t want to go back yet, but we need to find out if these crabs are good ones to keep,” pronounced Roper. After only a brief consultation, both of the others agreed — with both parts of the statement. Reluctantly they rowed back to the Longin.

Silor, seeing very well what the children had caught, leaned over the rail and yelled at them. “Throw that trash back into the water!”

He planned to duplicate their feat in a few hours and be hailed as a hero before the whole ship. Unfortunately, his call brought old Sorra to the rail to see for himself. “Broad-legs!” he cried out. “They’ve caught Broad-legs! Somebody help get them onboard!” That brought every crewman in earshot, and Sorra had strong lungs.

Roper, Luin and Moren were brought aboard in triumph, and the boat was lifted up on davits and brought aboard, crabs and all.

A large trap, using two rings, the smaller over a fathom across, was quickly devised. The glue was barely set on the Strong Skin strips of the hoops, by the time it was covered with net and taken out to test. Apprentice cooks were set the task of making ring shaped pieces of Glue Fish offal, since it had worked so well as bait.

Men and women were trying every way that they could think of to get the big crabs aboard their boats. The rings were so large that they were difficult to handle. So, while big crabs were being caught in plenty, as the children had found, the trick was keeping them. Many times there was the splash of a crab getting away. There were also times that the splash was someone caught unaware by a Broad-leg and sent to join the fish.

Roper, Luin and Moren were crushed. They found the Broad-legs and they were not being allowed go back out there. Of course, the chaos was fun to watch. Master Juris watched with them for a while before wandering off, a thoughtful expression on his face.

The children were giggling over Milfor’s third dunking of the day when a shadow fell over them. Looking up they saw the large, red haired figure of First Officer Kotance looking sternly down at them.

Without preamble, he said, “You have violated the order given by lead deck-hand Silor.” He flourished his long knife in an intimidating arc from the children to their crabs. “You should have thrown your crabs overboard. If you give me that big claw there, I will overlook the infraction this time.”

Shocked, now that they knew the value of what they had caught, the children mutely allowed the piracy. Kotance strolled away with his booty, whistling a merry tune. Kurin came over and joined them.

“That was nice of you to share one of your crabs with Kotance. It will help him to feel more at home on the Longin. The Council assigned him to us from the Grinna as a replacement for Amus after he died, you know.”

“We didn’t share, he took,” said Luin angrily. “He said that we disobeyed Silor’s order to throw the Broad-legs back but he’d overlook it if he could take a claw.” Kurin was shocked. In all of her life no such thing had never happened on the Longin.

“I thought that you were helping Marad,” said Roper, both to change the subject and curious at the same time.

“I was, but Master Juris needs me in the shop and I’m his apprentice,” Kurin said. “So I‘ve been replaced. I came to get you.”

“Us?” they chorused.

“Yes, if you want to help, come to the boat-shop with me.” Trailing Roper and the two smaller children like a benign comet, she made her way to the nearest companion-ladder and down to the second deck.

When she got to the shop, a boat was already in chocks, waiting. Master Juris handed her a tallow-slate upon which he had sketched with his usual precision. “Here, Kurin, is what we need to do.”

She looked and whistled in astonishment, “How many boats do we need to do?”

“Five,” he answered.

She took down a tallow-slate of her own and began calculating for a few minutes, deciding on the number and size of the parts needed.

Master Juris said nothing when she had brought the children into the shop. He too had been watching young Roper for a possible apprentice. He just looked on as Kurin set them to work. Luin and Moren were having a great time with the gloriously messy work of winding glued Strong Skin strips onto a mandrel to make the necessary struts for the lifting tackle.

Using standard patterns taken from hooks on the wall, and a keenly honed rocker knife of expensive Wing Ray tooth, Kurin cut parts for sheave pulleys from larger pieces of Strong Skin, showing Roper how she wanted them glued and stacked. Master Juris was working on the parts of a small windlass designed for the job.

With the children’s help, the first modified boat was ready in only a few hours. There were four more to go, but before they did the next, they wanted to see how well the boat performed.

The hatch that made up the roof of the boat-shop was removed by the deck crew under Silor’s direction. Working smoothly together, the deck-hands used the crane to remove the boat and put it over the side. This was what Silor did very well. His position as lead deck-hand was well earned. His eyes missed nothing as he coordinated the work. He saw Roper, Luin and Moren too.

The new crab nets were too large and awkward to lower along with the boat. They were put on a hook and lowered, after the three fishermen in the boat were ready to receive them.

Balancing the rings across the transom on poles provided as part of the new rig turned out to be easy. The fishermen plied their oars and pulled away from the ship. Shortly, they attached tackle to the first net. As planned, it lifted free and swung back, clear of the rest of the nets, and was lowered by the small windlass. When it reached bottom, a float was tied over the line, and the balance of the coil let go. As two rowed, one fisherman wound the next coil of line onto the windlass, and put it over the open-faced sheave. As soon as this was done, the line was attached to the next net and the whole procedure repeated. It was not long at all before the nets were all in the water. The men then rigged a holding net onto the poles that had supported the traps, allowing the crabs to be kept in water, where they were quieter.

The first of the new system nets was brought up by windlass, which was plainly easier than lifting them by hand. The net brought up two Broad-leg crabs. As men and crabs ran riot on the other boats, this net was tipped over the holding net with a boat hook and a second boat hook encouraged the crabs to go for the water. They fell cleanly into the holding net. Fishers on the other boats stopped to watch in amazement and crabs escaped wholesale.

Moren, Luin, Roper and Kurin were busy. Master Juris was directing what only appeared to be a bedlam in the boat-shop. Freshly wound Struts were being racked to dry. Pulley sheaves were being glued, pressed and stacked to dry also. The windlasses were being fabricated. In only a few hours of dedicated labor, the parts were ready. The hatch that made the boat-shop ceiling was lifted off and the afternoon sun saw the first of the remaining four boats lowered into the shop by crane.

Busy parents came to the boat-shop seeking their errant offspring. “Luin! Moren! Roper!” they chorused. “Come out and let Master Juris work! You know better than this.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 9 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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