#nothing like a good color challenge to break through the old art block

[beltthesea]

I highly recommend the podcast Spout Lore [x]; I laughed, I cried, I hyperfixated and listened to like a hundred hours of content in approximately 2 weeks 🎉🎉🎉

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye

Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!

I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)

You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.

You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.

You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.

You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.

You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.

“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”

Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.

You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.

You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.

You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.

You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.

I guess Wade hasn't changed any.

You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.

“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.

“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”

“No problem”

You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.

“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.

“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.

“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.

“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”

“What the fuck Wilson?”

“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”

You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.

“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.

“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.

“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.

“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”

“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.

You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.

“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”

“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”

“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.

"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.

Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.

"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.

"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.

"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."

"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."

"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"

"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.

"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.

"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.

"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.

"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.

"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.

"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."

You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.

You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.

"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."

Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"

You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.

"Man this is the best sleepover ever."

"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.

"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.

"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.

"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"

"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.

"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.

"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"

"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.

You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.

"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"

You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.

"Not really."

Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.

"You can take whatever you want baby"

******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************

That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.

Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.

He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.

You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.

“Stay”

God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.

His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.

“Yes please.” you answered politely.

“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”

“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”

He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.

“This normally doesn't end well for me.”

“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.

“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”

You snorted.

“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.

You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.

“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.

‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.

“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.

His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Better now.” He whispered.

“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.

**********************************************************************

“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.

You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.

“I missed you.” you said softly

“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”

“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you again for the request!!!! <3

[aislingeu]

hello!! i’m kq ( aka kelsey quinn! ) i’m twenty five, livin in the est, usin she / her pronouns!! much like the good buddy who turned me on to this rp, i don’t know a ton about percy jackson!! but mythology was one of the few subjects that held my attention in school, so i hoe i have a good handle on it! :D for now, i manage a comic book store from thursdays - sundays, so i’m scarce those times but i’m usually on discord!!

⟨ ABIGAIL COWEN. CIS FEMALE. SHE / HER ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AISLING DUNN is actually a descendant of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old PAINTING MAJOR from DUBLIN, IRELAND has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CLEVER & COARSE.

this got way longer than i intended im so sorry... 

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

she was born on march 12th, 1997 to a pair of irish musicians ( conor and dierdre dunn ) and, unwittingly, one greek god ( hypnos ) in dublin, ireland. her parents met and married shortly after her conception and neither of them suspected that conor wasn’t aisling’s father, until she was claimed.

as an only child, her parents didn’t have much to compare her too in terms of overall strangeness. for years, they wrote off her abilities as kids just sayin’ the darndest things. they remained blissfully unaware of the impact of their daughter’s words, rolling their eyes fondly, when she told them about the man in the cave, who came to her in dreams. they smiled and laughed, when she strangers at the supermarket that she thought erwin was a fine name to give a teddy bear, no matter what anyone else said. how were they to know that she was unearthing the fond childhood memories that passersby had almost forgotten? 

when she enrolled in primary school, they realized that she was... strange, if not special. she was recognized as a bit of a space case, often staring at nothing in particular, while her teacher droned on. her worksheets were seldom turned in complete. instead, aisling began gifting poorly drawn family portraits on the blank sides of her papers, likenesses plucked from the memories she explored when her mind wandered, in class.

eventually, after her skill had developed and people stopped writing off the stick figures as ‘coincidentally accurate’, people began to truly take notice. they speculated that she was a medium, silently communing with the dead and painting their pictures as she did. how else could she know what her art teacher’s late father looked like? and what color tie he always liked to wear? she had to be a psychic. recipients of her art were always so focused on their perception of the little girl with the gift of sight that they hardly even realized what she had tweaked, brightening up their darkest memories, just so they wouldn’t have to hurt anymore. she hardly even realized, herself.

without a reason to believe otherwise, she told the man in her dreams that she was a psychic, but he knew differently. he told her that that wasn’t so. she was special, yes, but not in the ways that the world thought her to be. hypnos let her in on the secret he’d been keeping for the past twelve years and, just like that, aisling could make sense of herself. once she knew the truth, she chased sleep. she spent as much time as she could, communicating with the one person who understood who she was. he saw her hunger for belonging and pointed her in the direction of the camp nearest to her hometown.

after a summer away, she came home faced with a challenge in morality that she’d never considered, as a child. she came home to a world where she could no longer fit. her party tricks had lost their luster the moment she realized that true value of a memory, however sad, was worth far more than the cheap smiles that her alterations had afforded. with that realization, her art took a darker turn. unable to shift the memories she saw into the light, they haunted her. she now saw their fears and heartbreaks for what they were: unchangeable. and, now, they lived within her, too. putting them to paper was the only way to get them out. but, pieces like those weren’t the kind that could be sent home to mom and dad. pieces like those were the kind that got her meetings with guidance counselors and haunted, fleeting looks from those whose memories she’d never meant to disturb. after a year of that, aisling went back to camp, full time.

once she was a year round resident of the camp, she found herself more comfortable around people who understood; there was nothing she had to hide, among those who were like her. each one of them was fighting an uphill battle of their own. they didn’t have to hide it. even if she never allowed herself to get too close, aisling never felt all that far away, at camp.

at eonia, aisling spends most of her days painting, sleeping, or working. raised by a pair of mortal musicians, finding a job at fireside records felt like a natural progression. where her godly parent thrives in silence, she finds her comfort in noise. it’s easier to block out the things she doesn’t need to see when there’s something immediate for her to focus on. at the other end of that spectrum, aisling finds her mind most open in visual arts club, trying to keep her other creative skills sharp, while she keeps her primary focus on painting. in search of inspiration, her mind reaches out in tendrils, dipping into another’s until she finds something she can work with. she only needs to leave the room before they’ve realized what she’s borrowed. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

aisling is a naturally empathetic person, always wishing she could do more to help those around her. unfortunately, she knows that she can’t always honor that instinct. her abilities and self-imposed limitations have left her with a hardened exterior that isn’t easy to break through. those who pass through her walls see a softer side: a steadfast friend, always there to put a peaceful end to their sleepless nights or calm their worst nightmares, with a gentle run of her fingers through their hair. but sometimes, she’ll wall herself away from even those she’s closest to after she finds herself in the middle of a particularly harrowing memory. because of this, maintaining close bonds for long is a difficult thing. given her propensity for accidentally rifling through the fondest and most fearsome parts of peoples’ pasts, she’s been known cut them out of her life when she sees something that she has the urge to alter.

𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

MEMORY RETRIEVAL — for as long as she could remember, aisling knew things that she shouldn’t. at first, her parents just dismissed her gift as imagination and observation combining in a perfect, creepy storm. it wasn’t until she started attending school, picked up her finger paints, and started to draw out moments from the pasts of strangers that people started to truly take notice. sloppy scenes from the librarian’s wedding day graduated into well sketched portraits of her bus driver’s dalmatians. she liked to take those happy moments, immortalize them in art, and hand them off to the owners of the memories. she liked to make people smile. sometimes, she took that a step further. too young to see the value in sadness, aisling would tweak the memories that were harder to bear; even if she couldn’t bring someone happiness in the present, she hoped she could bring them comfort in the future. it wasn’t until she was claimed that aisling saw the flaws in her intervention. it wasn’t until she was taught the consequences that she knew she had to stop. although the memories came to her unbidden, they didn’t belong to her and she had no right to change them. instead of focusing on the alteration of memories, aisling opted to try to learn how to shut them out. like her other powers, though, there’s a direct correlation between her emotional state and her ability to keep a wall up. when she’s feeling something strongly or hasn’t gotten enough sleep, she sees things that she doesn’t mean to.

HYPNOKINESIS — you are getting very sleepy… what proved to be a fun tool at sleepovers had more practical applications than aisling knew possible. the skill of inducing sleep was easy enough to come by and influencing dreams was as simple as altering memories. and while ( without intending to ) she’d been known to cause visions when tensions ran high, refining those visions into ones that took the shapes she wanted them to took practice. even more difficult than that was learning to astral project, but that became a necessity, coming hand-in-hand with building her mental walls. when the uninvited memories start to weigh on her, she’s learned that it’s best to remove herself from the immediate vicinity. even if she’s only technically leaving in her head. 

OTHER ABILITIES — ( levitation ) a skill she only possesses in sleep, predominantly when her dreams are eliciting strong emotions. ( seeing the gods in dreams ) this is how she formed and maintained a relationship with her father, despite her parents being unaware of their daughter’s godly lineage. on occasion, she’ll encounter gods that she’s less familiar with and, in most of those cases, she’s been known to force herself awake.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

there are so many cool, fun things runnin through my brain right now!! i think it would be lovely for her to have forged a friendship with an insomniac or maybe someone prone to nightmares that she could help! and those fun customer service relationships with record store regulars!! or maybe a former friend or significant other, who aisling left behind? maybe even altering their memory slightly, if the parting of ways was ugly! who knows! the possibilities are endless!! and i’m always up to hearing other peoples’ ideas because the Sweet Lord knows i am not the most imaginative person in any given room!!!

thank u for reading ilu!!! 

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

A Patti Smith Envelope

PART THIRTY-FOUR OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: anxiety about future, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Ella and Jess move into their new apartment.

A newspaper ad circled in red ink had led them to the cozy one-bedroom four blocks over from Truncheon and six blocks from campus. It was only late April, earlier than Ella was expecting for them to find something. But she had finished finals, had booked gigs working at the art camps at the college over the summer. She had a few weeks off to make art, and hopefully help out in Truncheon. After touring the place, it felt right. An excited tightness in her stomach. Jess, too, had squeezed her hand in elation as soon as they walked through the door. The place had built-in bookshelves on the far wall, the bedroom on the other side. Ella didn’t believe in signs, but even she could agree it was as close to perfect as they were going to get.

Luke had offered to help without even being asked. Chris, Matthew, Leo, and Mabel were all participants to different degrees of willingness, and they hardly needed any more bodies. But Luke insisted the minute Jess had told him the moving date over the phone. It was likely he needed some sort of distraction since April had moved to New Mexico anyway. She wasn’t going to be back until the summer. And it seemed neither Luke nor Lorelai had come to their senses about each other yet.

He rolled up to Philadelphia in his truck two hours before they expected him. He claimed moving wasn’t moving if there wasn’t a truck to help out. Packing up all the stuff in the apartment was easier than Ella expected, just as it had been when she moved out of her childhood home. Jess could be cluttered sometimes, but nowhere near the level of Chris, and most of Jess’s belongings consisted of old band t-shirts and marked up books anyway. Ella, likewise, had most of her records stuffed in the back of her car. The dresser fit in Chris’s SUV after a fair amount of squeezing stuff in. The bed was the real challenge. It turned out Luke’s truck wasn’t such a frivolous vehicle, after all.

A drizzle was just beginning to fall from the gray, cloudy sky as they finished moving all the boxes inside. The apartment, on the second floor of some ancient building, was not exactly up to twenty-first century standards. The pipes were old and cobwebs gathered in the corners. A splinter or two jutted out from the worn down wood floors, golden brown under the dim lights. But the bohemian rug and many lamps they’d scouted out from the thrift shop a week earlier were already proving helpful. Boxes, labeled with mostly Jess’s scrawled, cramped handwriting, were stacked high in the corner of the living room, others gathered on the cracked tile of the kitchen counter.

Ella blew the stray hairs away from her eyes, otherwise pulled back in her black bandana. Her bangs were growing longer, and she was just becoming able to fully tuck them behind her ears. Roses of flushed color bloomed on her cheeks, her skin hot and sticky. Chris had already sprawled out on the dark gray couch, Leo on the arm. The couch, too, was secondhand, bought for ten bucks at the ReStore off the interstate.

“You really should be paying us,” Chris huffed, throwing his arm across his eyes.

Ella scoffed from where she was helping Matthew and Mabel unpack the kitchen. There was actually not much to be done, as Jess and Ella were planning on getting most of their supplies in the following days. There were a few mugs, bowls, spoons. “Consider it payback for the amount of times I’ve made you pie.”

“I was under the impression those were ‘no strings attached’ pies,” Matthew chimed in.

“Or, at most, ‘friends with benefits’ pies,” Mabel added.

Ella rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m taking advantage of all of you. I’m eternally in your debt. But I think we got everything, if you guys wanna get outta here.”

The four of them exchanged glances, eventually coming to a consensus they were exhausted enough to leave and retire to the cold pizza in the fridge at Truncheon. Ella suspected they were excited to have their own rooms for the first night in forever, as Chris had already made work of moving his stuff into Jess and Ella’s old room, before they had even finished moving out. She gave them sweaty hugs and salutes goodbye, finishing with unloading the meager contents of the new fridge.

“Hey, Jess, we’re outta here!” Leo called.

Jess’s head appeared from the doorway to the bedroom. “Good. Better to save yourselves now before World War III breaks out in here.”

From beyond the bedroom door, Luke could be heard grumbling obscenities and fighting with the new bed frame he was struggling to put together.

“See you on the other side, then,” Matthew said, smiling. “Also known as Monday.”

“We’ll see if I make it until then,” Jess shrugged, offering them a small wave. “Thanks, guys.”

“You are not welcome,” Chris grunted, trudging out the door.

Mabel gave Ella one last hug before exiting the apartment, shutting the door softly behind her. A grin broke out on Ella’s face. She and Mabel had gone on more than one lunch together, had even gone shopping once. It was new and Ella was still a bit worried the timid woman would be scared away from a friendship with her, but they were slowly getting to know each other.

As Jess continued grappling with Luke, who went on grappling with the bed frame, Ella finished with their groceries. The kitchenware was more or less unpacked to a decent level. The books were next on her list, followed by the records. Rounding the corner of the counter into the living room, she stopped short of the book boxes.

She put her hands to the hips of her jeans. There were a few water spots on the popcorn ceiling, reminding her of Truncheon. The air smelled cozy, but more of lemon Pledge than anything else. Someone had dusted the built-in bookshelves in the initial flurry of unpacking. During the walk-through of the place, Jess had pointed out the corner next to the couch as the perfect spot for an easel. Looking over it, with familiar furniture moved in, the place seemed more real. Less like a dream for the two of them. The terrace past the small sliding glass door was empty, but she thought maybe they could fit a few chairs. It wasn’t as though the view was spectacular, just a vision of the city street below and the other apartment building opposite. But it was more than enough for two people who had both lived out of their cars for extended periods of time.

An odd sense came over her, one of total novelty. Never before had she had a real say in her home. Her parents lived in the blue house in Stars Hollow before she was born, Lane had moved into her house with Zach and Bryan long before Ella started sleeping on the couch, the apartment above Truncheon had been a simple convenience to everyone involved. But she and Jess had chosen the apartment together. They had admired the cheap price, the proximity to work, the odd seashell tiles in the bathroom. The place seemed to have been built before the contemporary requirements of architectural uniformity. It had a mind of its own inside: a leaky sink and a brick exterior and shag carpet in the bedroom. Not altogether a surprise, considering it was in the artsy housing district near the campus.

“Dammit!” she heard once more from the bedroom.

Heaving a tired but cheerful sigh, she crossed her arms over her Clash t-shirt (borrowed from Jess) and entered the bedroom, to the left of the living room and kitchen, opposite from the tiny bathroom. Luke and Jess were both hunched over the metal frame, trying to hold both the headboard and the footboard up and attach the middle section. Their faces were angry and red, frustration radiating off of them.

“Hey, so, it’s past seven,” she announced, eyebrows raised at their trouble.

Jess jumped slightly, his back to her, at the sound of his voice. The footboard slipped out of his grip.

“Oh, for the love of-” Luke began.

“It’s fine,” Ella interjected calmly, going over and placing a hand on Jess’s upper back. He panted but said nothing as his uncle continued fussing.

“Where did you even get this? There’s no damn instructions!” Luke said, readjusting the hat on his head.

“The discount store,” Jess answered, glaring down at the frame and over at the mattress, which stood leaning against the wall near the dresser. “Not all of us have diner money to fall back on.”

“Anyway,” Ella continued, “I bet we could all use some food. Jess, maybe you could drive Luke down to that place on Birch and get some sandwiches? I can finish with the bed.”

Luke shook his head. “Ella, I don’t think-”

“She probably can,” Jess interrupted dejectedly. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s those sculpture classes. But she can fix anything. Not just showerheads and cash registers.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Luke said, raising his hands in surrender and leaving the room. He went to grab his coat from the messy pile by the front door.

Ella stifled a laugh. “My god, he’ll never change.”

“Why is he coming with me to get the food?” Jess asked under his breath.

“Because I think he’ll have a stroke if he doesn’t stop with this bed. And he doesn’t know where the place on Birch is. You do,” she explained, giving him a peck on the cheek before going to try her hand at the bed.

Shoulders sagging with fatigue, Jess gave a begrudging nod, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Fine. Hopefully he’ll be less Vesuvius and more Mauna Loa by the time we get back.”

“Not everyday you hear a good volcano metaphor,” she quipped, assessing the middle section of the bedframe and deciding to take it apart altogether.

“I know. Imagine how dull your life would be without me,” Jess shot back, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite his frazzled state. “Turkey?”

She nodded. “You know me too well, James Dean.”

“Agreed,” he said with a teasing laugh.

“Fuck off,” she replied through a chuckle.

Jess’s smirk grew as he turned on his heel to leave. “Love you back, Stevens.”

.   .   .

The windshield wipers of Jess’s rust bucket screeched against the glass as he rolled down Birch Street, away from the sandwich shop. A white paper bag full of subs sat in the passenger seat atop Luke’s lap. In one hand, Luke held a bouquet of deep red tulips. Jess hadn’t remembered the florist shop where Ella had worked the previous summer was right down the road from the sandwich place. He’d stopped in for the bunch of blooms as they waited for their order to be filled. The plastic wrapper around the bouquet crinkled in Luke’s fist as he braced himself, Jess rounding a damp corner.

“I told you we should’ve taken my truck,” Luke grumbled.

Sighing, Jess fought to keep his jaw untensed. “My car’s fine. It’s driven us across the country more than once.”

“Before or after it broke down on the highway and Coop had to have it towed back to Stars Hollow?” Luke asked, his voice tired and strained.

“Not sure. I know for a fact it was after you stole my car, though,” Jess retorted, eyes on the slick roads. He wished the radio was on, but the memories of Luke whining about his album choices were still too recent in his mind.

Heaving a large sigh, Luke gave a shake of his head. “Fine. I give up.”

“Thank you,” Jess muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Luke shot back irritably.

But then he looked over at Jess. His hair was no longer greased, his clothes fit better, his eyes were clearer. Most of the time, his brow was no longer drawn in anger or his face a scowl. Even his posture was different; straighter, brighter, more self-assured. And then he thought of Ella. She looked much the same as she had during her last few weeks at work, with her wide smile and loud laugh. The smiles were more frequent, though, and she seemed so relaxed around her friends. Even around Rory she had sometimes seemed a bit nervous to Luke, as though she were worried over a misstep.

Luke couldn’t contain the small grin on his grizzled face. “I’m really proud of you, Jess.”

Snorting a laugh, Jess spared Luke a quick glance before turning back to the road. They were only a few minutes away from the new home, but Philly traffic was never reliable, even on a Saturday. “Let’s put away the pom-poms for now.”

“I’m just sayin,’” Luke began with a shrug, “got your own company, your own apartment with Ella. You really seem to be doin’ great.”

Jess gave a short, humble nod, but took a long pause before he spoke another word. “Lorelai proposed to you, right?”

Luke’s brow crinkled. “Yeah?”

“But you proposed to Nicole?”

“Yeah.”

Humming under his breath, Jess gave another nod. Red brake lights glowed in the rainy evening darkness. “When did you know...how you wanted to propose?”

“Jess, are you gonna propose to Ella?” Luke asked, eyes going wide and smile growing.

“Never said that,” Jess answered nonchalantly, shaking his head. “Just never really delved into that part of your personal history. Figured I’d ask. Maybe I wanna get to know you better, uncle dearest.”

Rolling his eyes at Jess’s old patterns of behavior, Luke didn’t let his smile waver. He looked down at the bouquet in his hand. “Well, considering it was an impulse cruise ship marriage, not a lot of thought went into it. It just sort of happened. If you’re asking me how to propose to Ella-”

“Which I’m not.”

“-then I’d say she loves you and she’ll say ‘yes’ no matter what. And I’d say that you know her better than anyone in the world, and you shouldn’t...second-guess yourself. Do what feels right.”

“And did an Elvis impersonator marry you two on that cruise?” Jess continued.

Luke bit back another sigh. “No, wiseass. It was a regular minister.”

“Huh,” Jess chirped wryly. “You learn something new everyday.”

.   .   .

Patti Smith spun on the record player as the rain grew stronger outside. Though it was a pain in the ass to unpack the record player, Ella decided it just wouldn’t truly be home without the grace of music on the first night. Luke had left about an hour earlier, though they insisted he could stay over. He said he was nervous enough leaving Lane and Caesar in charge of the diner for one day, and he didn’t want to be late for the morning shift the next day. It made Ella roll her eyes, but eventually she gave up trying to convince him. It wasn’t as though she expected Luke to change his ways. The tulips sat in a mug of water on the kitchen counter, to be placed in something fancier and on something fancier once they actually had a makeshift dining area. For the moment, only the big pieces from the old place and the bed were filling up the small apartment. Ella had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Luke’s face when he saw she had put the bed together all by herself, finished before they got back with the sandwiches. An expression of extreme frustration had slowly melted into pride. Both were memorable.

Between Jess and Ella, who sat cross-legged on the floor on either side of the coffee table in the living room, was a half-eaten pie. One of the few leftovers from Truncheon they had lugged over to put in the fridge before an actual grocery run. The apple crust was a bit soggy, but the filling was surprisingly good cold. She found herself so wholly content as they sat together: eating pie, listening to records, in the dim lamplight of the first place which was solely theirs. It all struck her with a force she wasn’t expecting. She chuckled to herself as she grabbed another forkful, eating away at the half they had not even bothered to cut but just dug into instead.

“What?” Jess asked through a sweet mouthful, furrowing his brows at her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Doesn’t this all seem a little...surreal to you?”

“Does what seem surreal?”

“Just...we have an apartment together. And you own a business. And I only have a year left of grad school. I just...sometimes I can’t believe it’s happening. I can’t believe it turned out the way it did. You don’t feel that?” she asked, lowering her eyes sheepishly.

He cracked a small, crooked smirk. “I don’t know. I always just sort of thought I’d end up where I’d end up. And here I am. With you. Not a bad place to be.”

She rolled her eyes, a blush coloring her cheeks. “I know about your Kerouac philosophy. But just...when you first met me, did you ever think in a million years this is where we’d be now?”

“I didn’t know exactly where we’d be. But, I knew I’d land somewhere. I didn’t know if I’d land with you, but I wanted to. Maybe it’s a little surreal, but it doesn’t surprise me,” he explained, leaning his elbows onto the scratched wooden surface of the table with arms crossed.

Snorting a laugh at his insouciance, Ella finally locked eyes with him again. “It just feels a little too good to be true, I guess. I mean, you go to school your whole life, you work towards something your whole life. Once it happens, once you’re near the end...I just never thought it would actually happen. I don’t know what’s next.”

She tugged at her earring with her right hand. Jess noticed the chipped blue polish on her nails, though they weren’t bitten down. He couldn’t quite decipher her mood. Not that she seemed sad or distant, but he could tell she was having a hard time articulating herself. And he could tell she was letting an old worry creep up on her; she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He allowed his smirk to grow into a full smile and dropped his fork into the pie tin. “C’mon, you’re gonna figure it out. You know you are. I’m the directionless one. You’ve always been able to do anything. You’re plan girl.”

Ella gave a mirthful scoff. “You’re not directionless, Jess. And I’m not plan girl. Rory was always plan girl. I was try-to-make-it-to-the-finish-line-without-tripping girl.”

Jess hummed thoughtfully, about to reply. But she spoke again before he had a chance to.

“I thought you had a thing for her, y’know,” she said, taking another bite of pie.

“Who?”

“Rory.”

“Really?” Jess asked, and he couldn’t hide the bewildered amusement in his tone. “When was this?”

She shrugged and narrowed her eyes for a moment in memory. “Just when you first got to Stars Hollow. I mean, you hated Dean, and you like a lot of the same things, and you seemed to get along with her.”

“No. It was pretty much always just you,” Jess said, shaking his head slightly. “Maybe we liked a lot of the same stuff, but...I didn’t ever feel like she...got me like you do.”

“Oh, she didn’t, Kurt Cobain?” she teased, raising her eyebrows. She put her fork down in the tin next to his, her stomach full. Her eyes were beginning to get tired, her body starting to ache from the day of moving. She was glad the bed was put together.

He raised his hands in joking defense. “Hey, I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Remember that night she was tutoring me?”

“The night you crashed her car? Yeah, it rings a bell,” she replied.

“Yes, that one,” Jess continued, smiling sardonically at her. “We were talking about the future. And she kept getting on me about how I had to do better and I had to go to college, just like she did, or else I would have no life.”

The smile which tugged at Ella’s lips was slightly bitter but mostly fond. “Sounds like Rory.”

“Everyone in Stars Hollow thought I was the antichrist. Maybe Rory didn’t, and maybe we were friends, but she definitely wasn’t okay with who I was then. Maybe she thought, with enough Schoolhouse Rock videos, she could get me to shape up,” Jess continued, taking small glances out the sliding glass door as he spoke. He could see a sliver of the city lights past another building on the right side. It was better than the bland brick wall and the dumpster which served as his view from the room in Truncheon.

“Hey, she is an amazing tutor. If there was anyone who could’ve converted you to the Ivy League conveyor belt, it was her,” Ella said.

“Yeah, but you and I both know school was never the way I was supposed to go. It was the way you were supposed to go, but you didn’t try to get me to be anything other than what I was,” he told her, voice light but eyes sincere.

Ella felt her heart skip a beat, but shrugged again. “I don’t know. I definitely tried to get you to ditch those CDs.”

“The exception that proves the rule,” he replied.

“Speaking of, I figured out how I’m gonna organize the books,” she said, tossing a look past his shoulder at the empty shelves.

“How is that a ‘speaking of’?” he asked, a confused smirk coming over his face.

“I’m doing genre, then alphabetical order by author. The way you used to do your CDs when we were in high school,” she explained.

“Oh.” Jess had his eyes trained on her, watching as she undid her bandana and ran her fingers through her mess of blonde hair. He chewed on his bottom lip. Then, after a pause filled only with Patti Smith’s poetry, he blurted out: “Y’know, you were the first person I ever said ‘I love you’ to. The only person.”

Her gaze softened and she nodded. “Me too.”

“No, Stevens, I mean anyone. Not just Nora Ephron kind of love. Not family either,” he said, most insistent, though he did his best to keep his tone nonchalant. As though it were just a run-of-the-mill fact about his past.

She stopped for a moment, brow crinkling. “Your mom never said it to you? Not even hippie dippie Liz?”

“No. We weren’t that kind of family. She wasn’t that kind of mom.”

A crease of concern deepened between her brows. Every time it had come up before, she assumed both of them meant romantic love. Familial was a different beast. But she had to remind herself never to assume with Liz, no matter how she seemed. Jess had arrived when Liz was a binge-drinking nineteen-year-old.

Before her brief interlude in the ‘love doesn’t exist’ frame of mind, before her mother’s death, Ella’s world had been filled with ‘I love you’s. Mostly from her mother, in her soft voice, with her delicate perfume. Some from her grandmother, and even from her father. And after, Lorelai had sometimes said them in passing. Rory, too. The three words, no matter how commonplace they could sound, were important, she knew. Especially when they weren’t uttered, or stopped being uttered.

She opened her mouth to say something, then bit the inside of her cheek and hesitated. Rising from her place, she rounded the corner of the coffee table and went over to him. Jess tilted his head at her in askance, but she only answered him by sitting down in his lap, straddling him as their noses drew only inches apart. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and simply hugged him. For a moment, he sat motionless, his muscles tense. It wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting, if he’d been expecting one at all. But then, he circled his own arms around her waist. They sat there, breathing slow and clinging to each other, for a long time. Patti Smith droned on around them, enveloping them.

Eventually, she pulled away and ran her fingers affectionately through his hair. He looked up at her, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, she took the lead, gaze unwavering as she spoke in her quiet, husky voice.

“Jess, you’re the fucking best. You’re my favorite person. And you’re gonna be hearing ‘I love you’ every day for the rest of our life,” she assured him, matter-of-fact. “So, I suggest you get used to it.”

“Right back at ya,” he replied after an awestruck pause, just before their lips met.

In spite of the fuss over the bed frame, Jess and Ella ended up spending the night on the worn rug in the living room, nearly naked underneath the first throw blanket they could find in the boxes around them.

[wilwywaylan]

The Artist above and the Revolutionnary below

Fandom : Les Misérables

Modern!AU, Enjolras x Grantaire, 

Grantaire wants nothing more than enjoy the breeze and paint, but it seems that someone wants to practice the guitar. Very Badly.

Written for @shitpostingfromthebarricade‘s Same-Prompt Fic Challenge

Béta by the amazing @kujaku-myoo

Also on AO3 !

-

Working with the windows open had always been one of Grantaire's greatest life pleasures. Sadly for him, winter existed, and regularly put a damper on his plans by being cold, snowing, raining or wind-blowing, or a combination of those elements. But finally, finally, he was free of the clutches of a season that shouldn't have existed in the first place. Spring had taken its time, but it had finally arrived, bringing with it the delicious, warm weather that Grantaire adored. So as soon as he got up to sit at his easel (around 3 PM), he opened the windows and let the soft breeze caress his face. It was gentle, carrying with it the smell of the wisteria flowers on the balcony on the first floor and the chirping of the starlings starting to nest in the trees.

And something else that certainly wasn't the smell of wisteria or the starlings chirping. It sounded a bit like a guitar, if the strings had been plucked by someone with forks glued to their fingers. Maybe a bird was trying to get the strings to use them in its nest. Or that guitar knew a secret and someone was trying to get it to confess. Or something had fallen into the opening and the poor thing was desperately trying to get out of there by grabbing the strings. To say that Grantaire didn't really appreciate the thing that was resonating under his window and couldn't really be called music would have been the understatement of the year. And still... If someone closed his eyes, put his hands on his ears, and felt very, very generous, it could almost be mistaken as a melody, that, with a bit of concentration (and leniency), had a passing resemblance to... Wonderwall ?

Grantaire smiled. Talk about a cliché that someone sitting on their balcony during a warm day of spring would learn to play Wonderwall, if that was what they were doing. He went to his window, leaning out as much as he could to try and see the person playing. But the large windows of his flat, if they were perfect to give him some much-needed light, were a bit too set back to allow him to look at the player. By leaning on the ledge in a very dangerous fashion, he could barely see a pair of shoes, the cuffs of some jeans, and the headstock of the guitar, and nothing more. Not even a finger. Just a pair of old, battered, red Converse, pants rolled up at least twice, and a run-of-the-mill guitar.

To say that Grantaire's curiosity was piqued would be the understatement of the year. Okay, maybe it was due to his weird hours (that he decided on himself), but he wasn't very familiar with his neighbours. He knew the old Mrs. Magloire, he sometimes went grocery shopping for her, and she liked to pinch his cheek and call him a cute boy. Grantaire always refrained to ask her if she needed her glasses checked, and accepted the compliment with a smile. There was Mr Garrel, who put his awful music way too loud just when Grantaire wanted to sleep, and was always glaring at him like he was guilty of.. something. And of course, Eponine, who was living in the studio at the end of the hallway. Half of the time anyway. Other half, she was here, sprawled on his couch and criticizing everything he was doing. All in good fun, of course. He should ask her next time she'd drop by with a bottle of cheap wine and one of her awful DVD. She wasn't that better acquainted with the tenants of their building, but she held some sweet blackmail material. Maybe she'd know something about the mysterious guitar player.

Who was still butchering Wonderwall. Of course they had to choose a favorite of Grantaire’s for that. They couldn't decide on some Taylor Swift or something. Grantaire could have closed the windows of course, but it was such a pretty day.... And from his point of view, he had been patient enough. Now it was time to do what he knew best : give unsolicited comments. So he leaned on the windowsill as far as he could (he could still only see the shoes, bobbing with the non-existent rhythm) and yelled :

- I've played a lot of guitar in my youth, but I didn't know you could make that kind of noise. That's impressive, in a way.

The playing stopped. The feet moved, and for a second, Grantaire thought that the player would bend  over the railing to look at him and insult him or something, but no. After a few seconds, probably spent weighing some options, the music resumed. Okay, no amelioration on this front. And he couldn't just let it go, he had work to do, and he couldn't concentrate with that noise. So he tried again :

- No, seriously. You should relax your fingers. And your shoulders too.

The music stopped again. And this time, he got an answer.

- How can you say that ?

Oh, so the person on the balcony sounded like a boy. Probably around Grantaire's age. Interesting. But they were probably waiting for an answer.

- Because I know. That's a basic mistake.

A small silence. The other (man ? boy ?) was probably mulling over his words. Or think about sending him packing, with his unsolicited advice. But no, after a few seconds, Grantaire got an answer.

- You play the guitar ?

- I did.

The man seemed to dwell on the past tense for a second, then the playing resumed. It was still disjointed, but sounded a little less like someone had stepped on a small creature. Still kinda disrupting, but way less. Grantaire sat back in front of his easel, and was pleased to see that his inspiration had come back. He went back to his painting, humming along the broken melody. From time to time, he threw an advice over the ledge, about fingers on the fret or to use the fifth cord more, but the mysterious man didn't answer anymore.

~*~

When Grantaire opened his window the next day, he was welcomed by the same clumsy playing. This modern troubadour wasn't very talented, but he sure was determined. That was a quality one could admire, even Grantaire who was careful not to be too engaged about anything. Sure, he could have chosen another song, because as much as one could like a song, there was a thing as too much Wonderwall. Two more days of this, and Grantaire could never hear that song again. And still, he didn't ask the mysterious man to stop, nicely or otherwise. He mixed his colors, spread them on his palette, and set himself to work. Soon, he was lost in his little world.

He was trying to stretch his neck a little without dropping his green on his lap, when a voice rang from downstairs.

- My fingers hurt, it whined.

It took Grantaire two seconds to realize that it was the mysterious man talking, and he was talking to him. He laid on the windowsill again and glanced down at the red Converse.

- It's normal.

- Normal ? came the scandalized answer.

- Yeah. You have to build some callus to play.

- But how ?

- By playing.

The man seemed to mull over it.

- Isn't there another way ?

- Sadly, no.

Another silence.

- Oh. Well. Thank you.

And the mysterious player went back to his guitar. Grantaire waited for another remark thrown his way, but as nothing else came, he went back to his painting. But he kept his windows open. One never knew…

~*~

It dawned on Grantaire the next day, as he was lugging his grocery shopping through the hall, that he didn't know the name of his mysterious neighbour. He didn't know the name of almost anyone in the building, but it had never bothered him until now. Taking advantage of a break before tackling the five stories with several pounds of fruits and a giant bottle of liquid soap, he took a look at the letterboxes. A helpful hand had written the flat numbers under the names, and it only took him three minutes of mental gymnastics to find the right one. If he had expected a first name, he was disappointed. Not even an initial, just a name, stern and direct. Enjolras. Grantaire let the name roll on his tongue like a fine wine. Enjolras. Ange.... Enjôler.... so many pretty words contained in that name. Surely, such a pretty name could only belong to a pretty face.

Grantaire tried to picture it as he started climbing the stairs. Maybe... maybe he would be dorky, at least a little. Someone who tried to learn guitar without any method could only be a dork. He'd probably wear glasses. And a nice buttoned-up shirt, with a pen in the pocket. He was trying to decide on a haircut (neatly parted in the center, or "hasn't seen a comb in three days" ?) when he was almost knocked back down the stairs, sending him on his ass, his oranges bouncing all around him, happily rolling down the stairs to their freedom. He started swearing, rubbing at his sore parts, but his voice caught in his throat when he looked up.

The person who had knocked him down had caught the railing to keep their balance and was standing above him, blocking part of the light. With his hair in wild curls surrounding his head like a golden halo, eyes as blue as the sky, and a face, a face... a face that Grantaire would have liked to paint, carve in marble or in fine china, with high cheekbones and a nose.... a piece of art, really. It lasted only a second before the man found his balance again, almost stepping on Grantaire's foot. He muttered an apology, gathered two oranges that he hastily deposited on Grantaire's legs, then jumped over him and skipped the rest of the stairs, scattering the other fruits in his haste to get out.

Grantaire simply sat on the floor, trying to process what had happened in the last thirty seconds. Did he really get knocked down by a vengeful angel stepped down from his pedestal in a flurry of righteous fury ? Did he suddenly get high in the fumes of his.... canvas bag in the five seconds it took him to go from the letterboxes to the stairs ? Did it really happen ? Granted, he just had to look at his groceries still lying all around him to know that, yes, it did happen, he didn't just imagine it. Besides, why would he imagine such a fine man living in a building like... well, like this ? He carefully side-stepped all the answers such a question could elect, gathered all his groceries and carried them to his flat, still carefully not thinking about what had just happened, nor his trembling hands, nor the look of beautiful blue eyes or the bounce of golden hair.

Once every orange had found its rightful place, Grantaire decided to go knock on Eponine's door. Maybe she could help. Or just listen to him as he sprawled on her couch and babbled about beautiful boys and boys playing guitars and whatnot. She would probably make fun of him, but that was how it went between them. He had done the same when she had come to him about Pontmercy, and she had been merciless during his last three crushes. And that's exactly what he needed, some kind of reality check.

He waited almost five minutes on the doormat before she deigned open the door.

- I hope you have a good reason to come here, she said.

- Are you busy, perchance ?

- Do you know what hour it is ?

Grantaire gave her his best impression of a goldfish.

- It's "Top Chef" time. You know what that means.

- It means that I'm very flattered that you interrupted your delicacy time for me ? Grantaire tried with his best smile.

- It's the commercial break. You have one minute left.

- But I come to you bearer of lamentations about boys and what could be the start of a crush. And a bottle of vodka, he added, brandishing his treasure.

She considered him, then the bottle. Finally, she moved aside to let him in. He grabbed two glasses in the kitchen and went to sit with her, almost falling over the shoes scattered here and there. He handed her a glass and kept his in his hand, swishing the liquid around as he waited for the episode to end, his thoughts still spiraling wildly in his mind.

When the credits rolled, Eponine turned to him.

- Better ? she asked?

Grantaire shook his head.

- Drink.

He obeyed. The alcohol burned down his throat, without easing his inner turmoil in the least.

- Better ? she asked again.

Shook again.

- Tell me anyway.

But what to tell ? That an angel was living in their building ? That there was a boy playing the guitar and Grantaire found it very cute, the way he was going at it ? That this boy seemed nice, but Grantaire could only cling to a nice voice and a pair of red converse ? All this and even more, it seems, because when he finally stopped rambling, the TV, now on mute, was halfway through a stupid game show.

Eponine poured him a second glass of vodka.

Eponine poured him a third glass of vodka.

- So, she mused, admiring her own glass. What you're telling me is that you just developed two crushes.

- I didn't develop any crushes on anyone, Grantaire defended himself, but he had to admit he hadn't really made a case for himself.

- If those are not crushes, then I'm the Pope. And do not try any of your "hello your Holiness" jokes. Thanks.

Grantaire made a face.

- I don't really have crushes. The one with the guitar, I don't even know what he looks like.

- So what ? Do you need it ?

- It helps. Not about what you think, get your mind out of the gutter, woman. (Eponine just raised one eyebrow). But for me, he's just an awful song, a nice voice and a pair of shoes. Not really husband material.

- But there's the other one. The angel, she reminded him.

- Oh... yes. He's... oh he's gorgeous. You should have seen him. It was like... getting a small glimpse of what Heaven could be. Do you understand ? An angel looked at me. I may never be the same again. I had the proof, after all these years, that there is a Heaven. And if there's a Heaven, there's a Hell too, and it's a terrifying idea, because it instills in me a fear of whatever is awaiting for me when I'll leave this sinful Earth. Whether I end up in Hell, where I'll be subjected to endless torments, or in Heaven, surrounded by creatures of such beauty. Whatever I'm doing, I'll be damned.

Eponine looked at him above the rim of her glass.

- All this in just a face ?

- Had you been there, you wouldn't talk about "just a face". "Just a face" is for the ones we meet in the street, the mere mortals like us. His is not "just a face", it's a masterpiece, it's a piece of marble molded by the hand of an artist, it's the Sun having taken a human form.

- The Sun ? really ?

- The Sun, and since I've dared lay my eyes upon his form, I am forever burned. Never again will I be able to see, I've been blinded by his radiance !

- Okay but what do you want me to do ? Buy you a pair of sunglasses ? Be your guiding dog ? And be careful of your answer.

- Do you know of a young, beautiful god living under our roof ?

Eponine mulled over it for a few seconds.

- I do not know of any blonde in the building, young and pretty or not.

- Alas ! My only option is to let myself waste away, forever separated from my love, sadly gazing at the sun in the hope of him stepping down one of its rays, straight to my atelier and heart !

This time, Eponine whacked him around the head with a cushion.

- Can you be even more dramatic ?

- I can, but you certainly wouldn't like it.

They watched the images move soundlessly on the screen for a few moments.

- I can try to find some information, Eponine finally offered. I'll see what I can gather.

- You're a true friend, and you know it.

- You owe me at least a pair of Louboutin for that.

- I'll buy you the most amazing bottle of champagne I can find.

- Deal.

~*~

Grantaire was starting to be very familiar with the way his brain worked. He had been directly exposed to a god among mortals, it was only a matter of time before it became too much for him and he started trying to alleviate the shivers running under his skin, the heart beating in an odd way, the agitation, in the only way he knew (beside screaming it on the rooftops). But this time, the disease seemed to progress really, really fast. Just the next day, he sat at his easel, grabbed a paintbrush, dipped it in paint... and nothing happened. His hand didn't move, not an inch, and the tip of the brush hovered above the painting without putting any paint on the canvas. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he tried to set himself to work, he just couldn't move. That painting was due next week, or he would fail his exam, and he just couldn't do it.

After five minutes, he had to face the facts : he wasn't going to get any work done today, not until he got a bit of that obsession out first. He carefully put his painting aside, picked up his sketchbook, his pencil. He barely put the tip on the paper, that it started to, tracing ample lines on the white surface. Grantaire just let his hand move, seemingly on its own accord, let his mind wander as a lone figure slowly emerged. A man, standing alone, an arm raised, long hair cascading around him, a long sheet draped around his frame. Nothing fancy, it was the poster child for a study on how to draw folds. He would never show something so classical to his teachers, but for something he intended to hide somewhere he'd never look again (his sock drawer seemed like a very good place), it was pretty good. He couldn't yet exactly express the radiance, the warmth, the feeling he had gotten looking into those beautiful eyes, but that was only the first of a long series. He knew it. There was no hope in fighting it. He was done ; better enjoy the ride as he could until it finally faded away, and went with the other on a shelf far away in his mind.

~*~

But the ride lasted. Every day, when he got up and sat at his easel, the beautiful face appeared under his pencil. From the front, from the side, in close-ups or full-length, dressed in full XIXe century outfits, formal jackets or tight pants, studies of his eyes, his hair, .... The drawings were piling up in a drawer, or rather drawers since the first had been filled very, very fast. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to. His hand itched to trace this beautiful face once again, form the delicate lashes, the curve of his eye or the bow of his mouth. And so he did, again and again.

But of course, it didn't help. No matter how many times he drew the man, his face didn't leave his mind. When he was cooking, when he was cleaning, sorting his socks, watching trash TV, ... Always, the scene replayed in a corner of his mind. Had he known these five seconds would play an endless loop for his sole benefit... he wouldn't have changed a thing, to enjoy that delicious torment once again, the delicious burn, the delicious feeling of yearning that kept him awake at night, tossing and turning for hours.

Okay, maybe he would have changed one thing ; in the hundreds of times he had replayed the scene in his mind, he hadn't once stood there to gape at the vision ; always, he caught the angel in a way or another, swept him off his feet, or fell down at his, or at least found something smart to do. A conversation would engage, he would get the perfect stranger's name, seduce him in a few well-chosen sentences, enthrall him with his wit, a conversation would follow....

But always too soon, he would be reminded that no, he didn't get the perfect stranger's name, or even his attention past the bare minimum you allowed to someone you bumped into in the stairs. He had gone his merry way, getting out of Grantaire's life at the same time, never to be heard of again. Each time the thought came to disturb his daydream, Grantaire did his best to push it out of his mind, but if he could ignore the truth, he couldn't as well push the sudden jolt of pain out of his chest, no matter how hard he tried. He buried it under work, drawing the stranger's face and, he was a bit ashamed, drinking a bit more than usual, but it was only a brief respite.

But still, through this ordeal, there was one thing that was able to pull his mind from that never-ending daydreaming state. Every day, rain or sun, as he opened his windows, he had been welcomed by the clumsy guitar playing from the mysterious boy. Enjolras, if that was his name, was very conscious with his practice, and to Grantaire's delight (and relief), he had started to get better. Still not very good, but at least it wasn't grating anymore.

They had exchanged a few words here and there, mainly Grantaire throwing advice out the window, and the boy answering, sometimes in jest. He had a clear voice, and some wit that wasn't unpleasant. He hadn't really struck a conversation with Grantaire yet, but he seemed to appreciate his presence none-the-less. At least that's what Grantaire wanted to think. Maybe the playing softening when they talked was just wishful thinking, but that wasn't forbidden, now, wasn't it ?

It was during one of these afternoons, when he finally managed to get back to work after adding yet another sketch to his growing collection, that he decided to try and get a more consistent conversation with Enjolras, or whatever his name was. He laid on the windowsill as usual ; the red shoes were still bobbing in something that could be a rhythm. Good.

- Hey, he called.

There was a horribly discordant note, and the playing stopped. Enjolras muttered something that probably wasn't very polite.

- What ? he answered.

- You've been working very hard at that song, and this is very impressive, but I was wondering... Is there a reason you want so much to learn it ? A favourite of yours, perhaps ?

No answer.

- Is it for an occasion, maybe ? he added.

- Yes.

- You want to serenade someone, maybe ? Because that may be an interesting choice for a serenade.

- No !

The voice was indignant, and Grantaire couldn't help but snicker, silently, of course.

- So ? Why the urge ?

- There'll be a protest soon, the boy answered after a few moments. We're protesting the closing of the community center downtown. THere's no real reason except that they don't want to waste money on poor people because they think they aren't cultured enough to understand, enjoy or benefit from arts programs. Those....

Grantaire rolled his eyes as hard as he could. Good, another bleeding-heart, well-meaning boy with stars in his eyes and a will to change the world. An idealist who hadn't yet seen that the world was full of assholes and injustice. But still, Grantaire couldn't think too badly of him. Without those programs, he'd never had discovered the fine arts, and he'd never chosen to study them. He  couldn't really blame him to want to maintain them against all odds and assholes who didn't think about anything but their wallets and how to make them fatter. It was admirable, in a way. The world hadn't yet managed to bring him down. Maybe he hadn't yet met that many assholes. Or he was just too tough for them. Either way, good for him. But Grantaire couldn't really say so, not if he wanted to keep that fragile relationship going.

- That's really cool, he said instead.

- You think so ?

The giddiness in the boy's voice made Grantaire's smile.

- Yeah, it's good. Someone has to fight the good fight.

It was silly, and Grantaire was starting to fear that the boy would hear that he wasn't that convinced. But luckily, it wasn't enough to damper his spirits. Or maybe the distance played in his favor.

- So, Grantaire asked, you want to play at the protest ?

- We're all doing something... artistic, to show how important it is, and how uplifting and inspiring arts really are.

- And you picked the guitar.

- Yes.

- And you can't play.

- No. But I'm going to learn it anyway.

- I bet you will.

The playing resumed, and Grantaire went  back to his painting, smiling, the guitar playing that started to sound like Wonderwall accompanying him in his work.

[soundofseventeen]

Anywhere But Here (Boo Seungkwan)

I hope the Joshua one wasn’t too terrible! Unto Seungkwan! (I own nothing except the words.) -Bee

Masterlist

Seungkwan remembered when he was a teenager, he read a book by some American author about a guy who was looking for a girl, but he didn’t actually know who she was or where she lived, but he found her by chance and he remembered thinking how that was the stupidest thing a person could ever do. But it wasn’t how it conveniently played out that made him think that. It was the fact that the guy walked the whole way to her. Granted, if his curiosity wasn’t as great as it was, he’d be on his couch back in Jeju and not walking in the forest in the middle of the night following the red string that was visible only to him. (He did however, vow not to critique any other fictional character since he now knew their struggles.)

This endeavor might have been his most challenging feat by far. He could recall being younger and following the string coming out of his pinkie to see where it’d lead him but he would make it to the end of the block before one of his family members would come out and take him back inside. Of course as he grew up, he ventured a little more just to see where it ended, often growing frustrated because the end never arrived. (On one occasion he ended up somewhere in Taiwan, and another between the North and South Korean border when he was supposed to be on vacation.) 

Many times he found himself holding a pair of scissors ready to cut the accursed thing, only to be scolded by his mom not to be doing that because it was dangerous. However, the one time he did manage to do it, he ended up breaking the scissors and he didn’t even know why that happened. His dreams plagued him on what was on the other end from finding the lost city of Atlantis to picking up the lottery ticket off the floor that could earn him millions and once he even found the famous Michelle Obama at a comic convention. The final straw for him was when the end led him to a spaceship that took him to a different planet and the people there made him their king. He tried to ignore it, but when that left him restless, he sold his safe house (probably not his best idea if he was being honest) and with that money, hit the road with nothing but his backpack with necessities and the skin on his back. He supposed he could’ve used that money to drive to the destination, but he figured that would’ve been anticlimactic and what could he say to friends back home if he didn’t go above and beyond? Well, if he had friends that’s what he’d tell him, at least.

By day, he roamed where the red string led him, sometimes through the woods, other times through a suburban neighborhood, and by night, found a hotel that would meet his standards so he could shower and wash his clothes. In one instance, he rented his own boat to cross the water that led him to a dock that led to nowhere where he walked and walked until he ended up in Busan. Sometimes he felt like giving up and when he wanted to turn around, he’d feel a light tug as if pulling him closer to where he needed to be. He backtracked maybe once or twice but pursued nonetheless. He ran out of cash a lot sooner than he expected and instead of withdrawing from his bank account, he resorted to busking in the streets and relying on his voice to keep him going. Nature was his constant companion and he didn’t know how he ended up enjoying the quiet, but he realized that once he did, he couldn’t get enough of it. He eventually bought a blanket to carry around with him when the days were cooler but even then he came down with a cold, which made him stay indoors a lot longer than he liked, like now. At one point, it got so bad, he was bedridden for a couple days, and right before his fever broke, he felt like something was pulling towards him, but because of his lack of strength, he couldn’t do anything except moan and groan that he couldn’t. He could feel the physical force of the something pulling at the thread and if he wasn’t so weak, he would’ve gone up and searched for the culprit. By the time he recovered a bit, all he could see was the string he was supposed to follow.

*

“Thanks for the help DK!” You exclaimed, stepping back to admire your newest painting that had been delivered. You might’ve been fond of art, but when it came down to the flowers and trees and everything that Mother Nature created, there was only one person who could capture its beauty and that was Chinese painter The8. You’d had your eye on one of his works that would continuously sell out but had finally been able to snag it albeit you had to go through different cities all over South Korea (and sometimes leaving it!) to find it. You handed him his paycheck once you were back at one of the counters before he clocked out for the evening and he gave you the day’s sales from his deliveries plus loose change and tips despite the fact that he was alone for a few days. He chatted away of the day’s events, filling you in on the events from how one of the people at the retirement homes was looking more and more like the undead and how one of his friends at the thrift shop was consuming an unhealthy amount of coffee and the neighbor’s dog Aji chewed on his welcome mat while he was on lunch break.

“Aren’t you pissed about that?” You asked him. “If that was me, I would’ve...never mind, I wouldn’t.”

“Nah, she was just hungry. Usually I leave her snacks since Mingyu is okay with it, but how you left early and I had to open, I didn’t have time, so I guess there’s that.” He glanced up at your painting. “I still can’t believe you went all the way to Jeju for that. Where’d you sleep anyways?”

“At a hotel somewhere in Busan…”

“That’s...quite a tourist move.”

You didn’t tell Seokmin about your time in Busan. It’s not like he wouldn’t have understood, but there was something there that kept you from leaving. Your curiosity had gotten the best of you and used part of your free time to see how you far you could get following the string around your finger. It led you to a hotel on the other side of town and that’s where the fear set in, mentally using the excuse of being needed for orders at Smile Flower and keeping things in order even if you were short handed. (You hated to admit that you went up to the door and deliberated whether or not to knock, and opting to pull the string.) You scratched your pinkie finger, digging your thumb nail into the soft material of the red thread that wouldn’t be seen by the boy you were conversing with and opted for a shrug. “A change is good sometimes.” A fake yawn. “Well, I think we should we head out now. I have a long list of orders for this weekend and please remind me to put up a help wanted sign in case we stop being able to handle it. Good night.”

*

At precisely 4:47 the next afternoon, you delivered the bundles of flowers to Adequate Eternity, the coffee place next door with the help of Dino, one of their workers. He was a colorblind boy who often asked you about the colors you picked and you were always happy to answer. The reason was because of the eccentric old lady who owned the place. You figured Yoon Jihye must’ve been alive during the Great Depression (maybe longer!) but she had the youth of a child. She liked telling tall tales of soulmates and how some people were born with one (like you, she once said but you’d laughed nervously at that.) She was also one of the few people who could see your red string even without the help of the full moon so you trusted her judgment, even if she sounded a bit far fetched at times. She claimed she had a gift and that wasn’t a doubt you had for a second.

Auntie Jihye usually had Jeonghan, her great (you weren’t sure how many greats he was if you were being honest) grandson and caretaker call in an order weekly to place on the tables so the guests could have something good to smell and different types to see. You bid a good day to Wonwoo who was sans Jihoon (probably in class or something. Wonwoo himself didn’t go to university until dark from what he’s told you when you bumped into him out in the streets) but working quietly on an assignment. Seungcheol had your check ready along with the small order Seokmin had placed beforehand.

“Lovely day isn’t it?” Seungcheol commented, using his permanent marker to draw a happy face on your coworker's cup of chocolate milk. “It feels like Christmas is upon us.” He stopped long enough to assess your reaction, knowing that you had no rest.

You plucked a chrysanthemum from the bouquet and handed it to him. “I love it but not that I’m not ready for overtime.”

“Ahh my young soul. Your impatience is that of a toddler. Yah, Chan! I told you to open it now!”

“Oh, I’m impatient?” You had to snicker. “I just don’t wanna feel like I’m wasting my life away to make sure everyone’s arrangements are perfect.”

“Why not make a post on FaceTwit or however you youngsters get your news out nowadays?” He looked out the window a little too dramatically. “In my days, why, I think we had only a newspaper.”

“Seungcheol? I’m pretty sure we’re about the same age.”

“Don’t mind him; full moons make him nervous,” Jihye interrupted the conversation. She had a bright smile on her face, arms wide open, expecting you to give her a hug, which you did because who wouldn’t wanna hug an elderly woman that loves you to bits? “Look at you, looking prettier everyday.”

“Good day Auntie. Where are you headed at this hour?” You waved at Jeonghan who had just appeared behind her. He smiled at you politely, busy chewing on his granola bar to answer. Your eyes widened. “Oh! Is it Saturday already?”

“Just some errands; we’re all in for an exciting remainder of the day...things to do and people to meet, words to explain. Not me, of course, but rather to guide them. Full moons mean I have a lot to do,” she mumbled more to herself. “Let’s see candles, wax figures, oh and can you get some roses ready for me too? Any color will do.” She grabbed your hand without warning. “My, my. Is it me or is your string looking...better? Ah yes, you’re in for some changes. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

“Come on Grandma...let’s leave Y/N alone, shall we? We have a full day ahead of us. Ow!”

“You rapscallion. I wasn’t talking to you, or are you in a hurry to get somewhere?” She waggled her finger at him. “We’ll get there when we get there. But you’re right. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back. It’d be rude to keep my guests waiting. And you have plans with the dream boy. What was his name? Joshua. ” She turned her attention back to you. “Now, if you don’t want an angry customer, I’ll expect my roses tonight.”

“Yes Auntie!” You saluted her. You picked up your drinks, bid them a good rest of the day and went straight back to Smile Flower, sighing when you realized the rest of the work ahead of you and then the phone rang an hour or so later. When Seokmin came in a few minutes later, you were rushing out the door, with only a vague explanation of you leaving for an auction in China and finding help for the time being. You heard him laugh at your enthusiasm but promised to keep to the place standing. By the time you turned and waved at him, a handmade help wanted sign already on the front window for passerby to see and you waved to Jeonghan who was coming back from the presumable dinner with his friend. In an instant, there was chaos but you were already running late to see for yourself. You cursed The8 for being an artist with too much talent. The only thing you had caught was Jeonghan kneeling on the floor and struggling to pick something up.

*

It was a little after dusk when Seungkwan finally set foot in Seoul and he cursed under his breath when he saw that his string was leading him the same way he showed up. He put his foot down though and decided to settle in Seoul for a time because he didn’t leave Jeju just to probably go back. He walked around aimlessly, looking at the department stores, thrift shops, a few malls, a couple of chains that sold international products, recording studios, too many coffee shops to keep track of and even a flower shop sporting a help wanted sign. The door opened not much later and out came a boy carrying a rather large bouquet of flowers in a vase. He set them on the floor and locked up when he noticed Seungkwan. “I’m sorry, did you need something? I’ll be back in like five minutes.” He picked them up. “I just need to take these next door.”

“I uh, couldn’t help but notice you were hiring.” He decided to walk with the boy. There wasn’t harm in asking a few questions.

“Yeah my manager is currently on the way to China and I need someone to deliver while I stay there….HI EVERYONE!” Not being used to having eyes on him (it has been awhile since he had attention) he picked nervously at his string. The barista at the register acknowledged him with a greeting and he deemed it rude to not respond, so he ordered a hot tea and a cake pop, waiting for the boy he was walking with to finish his run so he could discuss the possibility of a job. He sat at a table where no one would question being alone, feeling at home despite the fact that he was an outcast. There was people despite the hour, two boys chatting amongst themselves at their own table near the door, a couple of actors with killer makeup skills that gave them an undead look, and a guy with his grandma, looking expectantly around them. She would say something to him and he’d nod in response. The only other worker was asking about the colors of the flowers and Seungkwan almost snorted at him for not being able to differentiate the red from the purple.

“I was starting to think I wasn’t going to meet you.” The old lady startled his people watching and he stared at her confused. “The red string,” she elaborated. The boy escorting her pulled a seat out for her and she sat across from him while his just jaw dropped. The boy then called for a Hansol who had emerged from another door, while they bugged the zombie looking actors. He only caught the name Joshua, but the other slipped his mind, remembering someone claimed his attention.

“I don’t-” She sighed, took his pinkie and yanked at the thread and his hand involuntarily shot forward. “How’d you know about that?”

“I don’t need a full moon to see it,” she laughed fondly. “And I can tell you we’ve been waiting for sometime to meet you. How rude of me! What’s your name young man?”

“S-Seungkwan.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean we, Auntie?”

“Goodness, look at the time! Everyone out. I must get this done by midnight.” She looked at the analog clock on top of the entrance doors. “Anyone who dares contradict me is more than welcome to help me get this ready. I am old and frail after all. Seokmin! Get this boy a job with you! Lord knows you and Y/N need the help. He will be a very good asset to the business.”

“Uhh, yes Auntie!” The boy named Seokmin pulled on Seungkwan’s arm. “Come on, I guess you’re hired. Let’s go get you a form filled out and you can get started tomorrow!”

*

Seungkwan surprised himself by staying a lot longer than intended in Seoul. He got the hang of making his deliveries in maybe one week. Granted, he had to learn the lay of the land first, but once he did, he realized how different life was here and he wasn’t complaining. He liked the rush of feeling like he was living in the fast lane. Seokmin turned out to be a really great coworker as well as friend. (He hated to admit he was slightly afraid of him though because of the “ghost girl” as he called her that followed him everywhere. DK swore though that she never tried to harm him, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t see what he looked like.) They went to a lot of places together, from the thrift store they regularly delivered to an aquarium on the coast near the outskirts of Seoul. He had a friend who worked there regularly and despite the minor clashes, Seungkwan liked him right away. He also befriended the boy named Hansol, a boy who was literally cold to the touch, only because his roommate started spending more time with a boy she’d met, as he had learned his friends weren’t actors, just heavily sleep deprived. 

He became an everyday customer at the Adequate Eternity, learning the names of Wonwoo and Jihoon who both seemed rough on the edges but melted that exterior rather quickly as well as Seungcheol who had a funny way of talking and Chan who he learned couldn’t see colors (and that made him bad for judging the boy when he first saw him. He made it up to him by trying to explain what they looked like though.) 

He learned to confide in Jeonghan about his doubts and any worries. Seungkwan knew that he knew about the string (he figured it was Auntie Jihye who told him since they spent so much time together. Jeonghan simply adored her even though she was very sarcastic and tended to hit him playfully. He also learned it was part of the relationship) but he never brought it up in conversation or even hinted if the string even had an endpoint. 

He spent many years accepting the fact that it was the mathematical vocabulary word ray; it had a starting point but the string could go on forever. Jeonghan would simply shrug and pull out the pendant he wore around his neck. “It’s like this,” he explained one day when it changed color. “My grandma said it changes according to moods, but it’s not my mood, but rather someone else’s. Some things just don’t have an explanation, and sometimes it’s up to us to find them. That’s why you’re here, right? You didn’t come all this way to get away from home. You want to see where it leads you. I don’t blame you though. I’d be curious too. But regardless, I’m glad it led you here.”

“Hey hyung, what do you think it could be? Why is it us?”

He paused, toying with the object. “Soulmates,” he finally admitted. Some things are much too powerful to be anything else.”

Seungkwan nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with the answer. It was the first time he thought a person could be on the other end and it seemed more probable. He didn’t grow up scorning the idea that someone was out there just for him and he thanked his family for being as open minded as they were about it.

However, he supposed a lot of his nervousness came from the fact that he didn’t know who his manager was, despite the fact said manager phoned in a few times a day. Seokmin often filled her in on the day’s events and assuring her that Seungkwan was being a lot more helpful than he thought, spoiling the fact that he was hired on Auntie’s recommendations. He did speak to Y/N once though and he floored by knowing how friendly she seemed. She shortly explained that she left often because she was a fan of The8’s works and his art popped up all over Asia but she was thankful for him helping out. She was due at the end of the month though and he was excited for that notion.

*

You were gone a lot longer than you thought and you felt guilty that you hadn’t paid either of your employees but were grateful that they were understanding. You were bummed that you couldn’t get The8′s newest work but it wasn’t a complete loss since you managed to buy one of his books, so it was a small victory. The growling of your stomach made you stop with Yoon Jihye, despite the fact that that it was a little passed closing. Okay it was almost midnight but still. You knocked on the door, and Jeonghan opened the door, giving you your welcome back hug. “Here I was thinking you skipped town and moved to America,” he joked. His pendant was clear that night, but still illuminating the dark place. “Shouldn’t you be home, or on your way there?”

“I was hungry and I needed to check next door first. My priority is to pay whatever damage DK and his friend caused and them too for being good sports. Hi Auntie.”

“Welcome back dearie. We missed you. How was your trip? Unfortunately Seungcheol burned our last batch of zucchini bread so I can’t offer you anything. Poor boy must’ve had a bad day.”

“That’s okay. I guess I can just stop by one of the stores still open. But I guess I’ll see how my business is. Good night.” Luckily for you, Seokmin had started the filing the receipts that needed to be sent out as well as stamping the checks that could be sent out for depositing and you saw several orders with upcoming deadlines as well as rough outlines of how to bunch them together. The place was spic and span, albeit a few stems strewn about. You texted him and told him you’d be closed tomorrow so he could have a couple of days off (which were gonna be paid as a thank you for taking over with no complaints) but you told him to let the new coworker meet you at the coffee place so you could decide if you really wanted him or not. Based on your conversations with Seokmin, he was new to the area but was rather efficient so keeping him definitely seemed likely.

Your growling stomach didn’t let you do much else so before heading home, you did a quick shopping trip just so you could have something in your system because ordering out took too long and it was too late to get pizza delivered. You deliberated with yourself the whole way there. Instant noodles seemed like a really tempting option but you really didn’t want to be hungry again after an hour but a home cooked meal would take too long to prepare and you were sure you’d fall asleep before it finished. You weren’t really a fan of microwaveable food either, so frozen was definitely out of the question as well. So your best option was to have what teenagers ate for lunch: chips and an energy drink. It’d keep you full until morning but you’d switch that for water for the simple reason that you wanted sleep. 

You waved to a few of the workers, chatting idly before getting back the mission at hand. You finally found the aisle you were looking for, craving salty and going to the other end of the aisle until you can across the specific brand you were looking for and it seemed like your luck ended there because there wasn’t anymore, or so you thought. You crouched to the bottom row and there was one more left. You didn’t even have to stretch far to get it but you didn’t notice that someone else had their eye on it because they grasped it at the same time you did. “Hey, that’s mine,” you grumbled, ready to fight. You looked at the chips in your hand, and almost dropped them in surprise. The red string on your finger was tied to the other person who was looking just as dumbfounded as you. You stared open mouthed at each other for sometime, the food in question already on the floor. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, extended his hand out in a greeting, which scared you a little but otherwise shook it, disregarding the fact that the custom in South Korea was to bow.

Behind you, a trio of old ladies giggled at the sight which made both of you whip your attention towards them. They said nothing but looking satisfied at how the situation turned out. “Congratulations,” you heard one of them whisper and they disappeared almost as quickly as you noticed them. “Two down.”

“It was you I’ve been looking for,” he murmured in awe. Tentatively, he reached for your hand again, both of you watching the string grow in length when he pulled away and shrinking when he came close.

You broke out into a smile and you were sure you could’ve cried if you weren’t in public. You weren’t weird after all. And then it hit you. Against your better judgment, because hello you just met him, you asked him a single question. “Can you come with me?”

*

As it turned out, Jeonghan and the old lady were long gone by the time you reached them. Not that it mattered because you had gone back alone because he declined saying he to get ready for work the next day and you respected and admired him for that. He left you his phone number in case he finished early and he suggested Adequate Eternity which was more than convenient for you. You had more than enough time to spare to get to know Seungkwan so you decided to grab him a cup of hot cocoa before you finally met him. Saturday mornings for some reason were busier but that was beyond your control, not that you were in a rush or anything. You took your time starting an order for a grand reopening of an art museum you were so fond of and and giving the place an overall cleaning Since you had finished earlier than planned, you decided to go for the coffee run, locking up just as slowly, well once you were sure someone had your small order ready. The only thing out of the ordinary was quite literally bumping into a girl who seemed more focused on her watch, and before you could open the door for her, she gasped. “My card!” She exclaimed and turned around just as quickly. “I’m sorry!”

Inside, you heard a cry of frustration, followed by the sight of an annoyed Jihoon running out of the bathroom, a bit of toilet paper stuck on his shoe. “Damn it, not again,” he groaned. He resumed his spot next to Wonwoo, and they continued writing down some notes. (At least that’s what it looked like to you.) They argued quietly and it never ceased to make you think they’d end up being those friends who grew old together but instead of spending their days in the park, it’d be here.

Chan waved at you and continued his window cleaning with a newspaper and some kinda drinking alcohol while Seungcheol read his copy out loud. And the people you were looking for were were looking for some keys. “Grandma, where did you leave them?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask you to look for them, right?”

“Good morning Auntie. Hey Jeonghan. Auntie, guess what happened last night?”

“From the light in your eyes, I can assume something good.” She pushed Jeonghan slightly. “Isn’t Y/N glowing?”

“Radiant Grandma. Ow! Hey, that wasn’t sarcasm! I meant that.”

“Oh hush, it’s rude to interrupt when someone is talking. Find the keys. Joshua said Babylon’s shipment is a can’t miss! You were saying, my dear?”

“I think-” you snickered at Jeonghan’s face and composed yourself, “I saw someone on the other end of the strand. What does that mean?”

“That I will explain when Jeonghan and I come back. Poor soul didn’t know where he left my keys. I think he’s the one with bad memory.” She winked at you. “Have you met the young man that’s been helping around?”

“Not yet. I told him to meet me here at noon. Um, this is kinda embarrassing, but do you know what he looks like?”

“He’s already waiting for you.” She pointed in the direction of where Seungkwan was sitting, eyeing the red string connecting you both and smiling smugly to herself when she saw the look of surprise on your face. “By the way, you’re soulmates. Jeonghan, let’s move! I have them right here!”

To say the least, you were nervous as you walked up to him. But then again, actually no, there was no then again. How the hell did something like that happen. Soulmates were extinct, weren’t they? There hasn’t been any evidence of them in years, so why now?

“Some things don’t require explanations though, right?”

“Holy shit, can you read my mind too?”

He smiled at you. “No. I was really surprised too but it makes sense. Hannie hyung helped me to understand that.” He pulled at the string and it brought your hand to his. “I guess what we decide to do with the knowledge is up to us. I know I came a long way to find you so I know I’m staying here for the time being. If you’ll have me as an employee and friend, that is.”

“Seungkwan, it would be a privilege to have you here as long as you’d like.” You returned his smile. “It’s officially nice to finally meet you by the way.”

“The honor is mine Y/N.”

*

A few days later, he took you out to the aquarium his friend worked, casually linking pinkies as you walked along, seeing the marine life, watching them swim in circles and come up for air. “Hey Hansol-ah!” He waved at someone you recognized, but he looked like he was on a date with a girl you noticed as someone from the museum you frequently visited and you smiled shyly at her. “What brings you here?”

“Enjoying the beach vibes my friend.” He waved excitedly at you like you were good friends and you returned the gesture. Anyone Seungkwan was fond of, you adored, especially him because of how well they got along and how there was no secrets between them. “Are you on a date too?”

“Yeah, this is my soulmate Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you. Well, we better get going but it was great to see you Kwannie.”

“You know, I hope he’s as lucky as I am and has a soulmate too. Do you think it could be her?”

You shrugged. You’d found out from Jeonghan that they came back in this century but only a rather near nonexistent percentage. “I’m not sure. It’d be nice if he did too, but if he doesn’t, well, I hope he ends up with someone that could be like one.” You agreed that not everyone was lucky enough to have an other half though. He threw his arm around you as the wind blew and he kissed your hair, messing it up that much more.

[mikaylaporteus7-blog]

This former Pentagon official who now works for a Unidentified flying object investigations.

"Our company over the last year and a half has actually obtained quite a bit of material," Luis Elizondo of the To The Stars Academy of Martial arts and Science said Friday on "Tucker Carlson Tonight." "Some of that material -- its providence is little bit hearsay, while other providence of some of this fabric has been substantiated." Elizondo said the group is in the process of in-depth investigations of what they hold obtained. He said all of the experts are attempting at physical, additive and atomic properties, and will becoming able to ring together summaries when the work is truly complete. "Really, at just that point we'll nevertheless be able to allow some sort because of definitive conclusion," your lover said. Elizondo added every single one of the material the academy may doing research into will go through the "scientific process" and be peer-reviewed. Last month, the Oughout.S. Navy available for the in the beginning time known that the three Unidentified flying object videos which is were made by several Blink-182 performer Tom DeLonge and placed by Which the New York Times are unquestionably of good "unidentified" physical objects. CLICK Ideal here FOR Currently the ALL-NEW FOXBUSINESS.COM The Dark blue considers the specific phenomena contained/depicted in people three video as unidentified," Navy spokesman Joseph Gradisher told A new Black Vault, a online store dedicated to declassified government documents. Gradisher supplemental that the entire Unidentified Aerial Phenomena expressions is selected because this item provides each basic descriptor for you see, the sightings/observations relating to unauthorized/unidentified aircraft/objects that get been followed entering/operating here in the airspace of various sorts of military-controlled work outs ranges. 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Can life-style move from planet to be planet and even do experts have a complete spark and thus just typically the right the environment and that many spark created life -- like nation or never like our service -- based on the actual chemical situation that this is when? In an important statement for Fox News, NASA spokesman Allard Beutel said which experts claim the office is aroused about that mission to be Mars, although well by means of future quests where all prospects associated life gain been removed. "A key component on NASAs position is that will help search for the building blocks as well as signs amongst life elsewhere, and were excited about the exact findings related with our rovers on Mars currently as well as , upcoming, whilst well given that missions toward Europa, Titan, and almost every other places," Beutel said by the use of email. "Just as Nasa astronauts attaining on an Moon customized our creation of our place through the universe, the development of every day elsewhere of course would feel a compromised changing occurrence. As suffering from all discoveries, NASA should probably work so that it will confirm and thus share checked information from the planet as soon as possible." Next July, NASA is scheduled in order to really launch its Mars 2020 rover regarding what this hopes does be a single successful track for extraterrestrial life to do with the Red color Planet. This past November, the real estate agency select Jezero Crater as the type of landing recognise for this particular rover, where it is definitely expected with touch through on my surface linked the planet on January. 18, 2021. The 28-mile-wide Jezero Crater is within the to the west edge with regards to Isidis Planitia, a record-breaking impact sink north off the world wide equator. Their astronauts noted that will it is definitely home to positively some related with the "most scientifically challenging landscapes Mars has toward offer," adding that the game was in the past home to an longstanding river delta, where ancient organic substances and most other signs including microbial personal life may be more stored produced by billions having to do with years gone by. Jezero Crater was implemented out because of more in contrast to 60 locations. In enhancement to usually the Mars 2020 mission, and it is permitted to introduction at powerful estimated cost of whole lot than $2 billion, with respect to to Space News, typically the European Space Agency will almost certainly also insert a rover on Mars. The ExoMars rover is very much scheduled to assist you land on to the Teal Planet onto March 2021. VENUS Seemed to be LIKELY Liveable FOR 3B YEARS. In that case SOMETHING Difficult HAPPENED. Green defined that these two quests provide the best "opportunity to actually find life," adding the "we've has not drilled who deep down" into any planet. When we first initiated the career path of astrobiology in specific 90s all of started checking for alien x ray t shirt unnecessary life," Course continued. "We go back in mines two cientos deep toward the Earth and maybe they acquired weeping together with water this company were top notch of lifestyle. We want gone on nuclear cesspools, places where youd experience nothing may well survive, and also they were full of a life. As the bottom line is probably where in that location is fluids there is almost certainly life." In July 2018, Their astronauts made the best stunning announcement, noting the exact Curiosity rover "found fair trade molecules into rocks with an outdated lake bed room. The dirt are billions of dollars of a lot of years old, Their astronauts said, sooner than adding them had rather than found life style on the most important planet. A investigation presented in about August mooted that our Red Entire world was sizzling and whet enough for have what you need rainstorms and flowing water, an environment that may perhaps perhaps have supported life, among the 3 as well as a 4 thousand years back.

[ace01taro]

🦉✨Weekly reading- All zodiac signs🌞✨

🍂 November 18th - November 24th 🍂

(Messages are lengthy but also insightful!! ✨ Also be sure to check out  your Moon 🌕 and Rising 🌎 signs )

♈️Aries: Aries, this week you will very much be in your head, some of you could be aware of a past “mistake” that you could have made around love, one that was done without “reflection” first. You want to make things right, but the problem is you don’t know where to start? So this leaves you feeling stuck in your tracks. Many of you have taken the time to “reflect” over the situation, the situation coming to mind and causing you grief and guilt for how it played out. Aries, at this time many cycles are finishing, jut as this “pain” and “guilt” you are feeling will eventually “come full circle. This situation will need your “compassion” and “unconditional love”, do not let our past mistakes rule you. If you can “seclude” yourself from the outside word ,do it. Your friends and even family members on the “spiritual plane” wish to help you, but you must take the “first steps” towards this healing cycle. You deserve to be happy Aries, you deserve to feel love again, never doubt that.

♉️Taurus: Taurus, the most challenging aspect of this week could be your sense of “self worth”, some of you could be feeling “guilty” about “moving on” with a certain situation. Many of yo had to release an “idea” or “expectation” or a how a situation was going to play out, while it could have worked for some in the long run, for others, they just did not want to “wait” any longer. So you did the only thing that you could do, you moved on,  found something else, or another person to fill your time. Some of you could even have started new projects and business, and are now in the begging stages off getting it “off the ground”, yet sometimes that “person” or “situation” comes to your mind, and you begin to question the “whats ifs?”. This situation calls for you to rely on your “intuition” Taurus, only you will know what is best for you, whatever you chose to do next, understand that you will continue to grow and develop, that this “process” is forever ongoing you in a sense are like a ”flower”, you are only just begging to “blossom”, your journey has only just begun.

♊️ Gemini: Gemini, this week you are going to be giving your attention and time to learning the art of being a “rebel”, this week you are putting your foot down and some could say “Growing a back bone”. Whatever this situation is, you are just tired of being “played” or labeled as a “fool”. While you do not know all of the steps that will be taken, you are planning on embodying the energy of the  “emperor”, this is someone who is “controlled” when it comes to their emotions, thy are calm, and do not need to shout or show anger to get something across, they simply give off the vibe of someone who is not to be “toyed” with, they are in sense the “Head honcho”. This old part of you is dying off Gemini, that new part of you that wishes to be see and taken seriously is now in the making. Spirit asks that you go out side if you have been at home  or working to much, take the time to surround yourself with “Mother nature” for she will show and lead you through this “transformation”.

♋️ Caner: Cancer, this week you are going to be doing your best when it comes to moving on from “difficult times”, there was something that could have been causing you to feel extremely “weighed down” it was if you had the “world” on your shoulders and you did not know what to do. It became a burden to you Cancer. Many of you could have been continuing to carry around a “relationship” or “connection” that was “going nowhere” or  was “one sided”, you did not want to deal with the “fallout” at the time,and you chose to simple “move forward” and keep the “Good fight”. Now you are finding peace in knowing that this situation has come “full circle”, within you there is a new sense of “hope” and “rebirth!”. Spirit says not to give up or back down! you re just begging to blossom and need to keep “open” and “receptive” to all things that the universe wishes to give you now! This “gift” or “miracle” will be coming in quickly! so be sure to be ready!

♌️ Leo: Leo, this week you will be healing an issue when it came to another opinions about you, Harsh or false words could have been used against you, and it might have done substantial damage to your sense or worth. Now you find yourself on a path that could be away from others, a solitude one that involves you seeking and restoring what was once taken away from you. Leo, Spirit wants you to be bold at this time! Unleash the adventurous side within you! While others might try and control the fire that now sparks within you Libra, know that even more energies are looking for you to “shine brightly!” they want you to show your true colors! to walk and be in your “Divinity!” Do not be afraid to show this side of yourself Leo, your energy is healing for many. You are a beckon right now, you are guiding and being a light to those who still do not understand their own Divinity!

♍️ Virgo: Virgo, this week the energy could be extra heavy when it comes to you having to leave a situation, this situation involving a connection that was made at a young age or was seen as “pure” and childlike to many. You will be going in this week so that you can “reflect” and “release” any and all old pain and hurts that could still be lingering. Virgo, if you feel any kind of compression or pressure on your chest this week, know that when this happen ( and you are not known for having any health condition), this usually means that your heart is being opened and “cleared’. This block could have had you feeling “numb” or even “empty” in  seance” for this is where the feeling of “love” is most strongly felt and understood. Virgo, if you have ever considered whether or not you are worthy of such an emotion, the truth is simple. Yes, you are. Many of you are now on a journey of self discovery and healing, it is a process that will need you patience,faith and dedication. Know that at this time, although you might feel surround by darkness, that you have many loving and caring energies around you, leading you back to the light. You are protected, just as the people you love and cherish are protected.

♎️ Libra: Libra this week could be challenging for you when it comes to seeking the “the place” that you “belong” to. At the moment, it might feel and seem as if you don’t have a place that you belong, but your most definitely do. This is something you will come to understand with time from “going within”. Everything you need to know is already within you Libra, you don’t have to go looking outside or else where to find it. Many of you at this time are also going thought a “Transformation” when it comes to your goals and dreams, you are learning how to “release” all of the “pains “ and “past disappointments”, this way December and the begging of 2019 will start off strong when it comes to you ambitions! Libra you really have nothing to worry about, know that everything is working out just fine! This is a process! you don’t have to rush! If you are worried about your home, things are already improving, the wheel has already turned.If you must, find a quiet place and just sit. Relax and let yourself feel “peace”, everything is working out just fine.

♏️ Scorpio: Scorpio! this week you are going to fee as f something has been “sparked” within you! maybe it a new project at home, or it could be a new goal! whatever it might be, you are now in the stages of planning out how it will look and even feel! some of you are looking back to a “failed attempt” and are now planning to give this situation a “redo!”, you just want a new start. The universe says to be bold at this time! let your colors shine! let your sassy side out! If you are worried about your home life and living situation,know that it is improving! a percentage of you even having the opportunity to move due to a raise in your salary! Spirit also wishes to let you know of an “important role” that you might have, many of you have experienced a “rebirth” that has caused you to become “masters” in a  sense. This means you will have many flocking to seek your wisdom, have compassion for these souls, they are going to need your patience and healing energies. You are a beacon in the darkness for many,lead the way, and they will follow.

♐️ Sagittarius: Sagittarius, this week many of you are going to be taking a “leap of faith” when it comes to making a decision about your “Next steps” in life, especially when it comes to your “emotional fulfillment” and “soul calling”. For some of you, this will involve another person, and for others, this will be a “solo mission”. Some of you could be diving into “dangerous situations”, and yet this is so something can be “cleared out” for good - this could very much involve your family's blood line and even your past life memories and situations. Where your ancestors might have “gone wrong”, you are choosing to “break” and “make amends” with the “universe”, you are making a “great sacrifice”, to clear many heavy and “Dark” energies from the  bloodline. You are renouncing and balancing it for the next generations to come! some of you will feel as if you are an “uncover agent” on a mission. Spirit wants you to know that this is only the “begging” and that you are still growing in to your true potential! be sure to have patience and don’t give up! keep your healthy boundaries up and have compassion for all people and parties involve in this situation! think of the bigger picture!

🛑 Sagittarius PS: You are going to be getting a “refresh” of what you have already learned! your new lessons and “training” will also be coming in! Think of yourself as entering “boot camp”.

♑️ Capricorn: Capricorn, this week spirit will personally be helping you face some of your greatest fears when it comes to the future. Spirit wants you to take a chance at “something new”, they have something good planned for you at you next destination!, they have something balanced, stable and full of love and emotional fulfillment. It might seem as if you have no help, and that you are alone, but that is only a trick of the mind! you have plenty of help, all you have to do is ask! ask the Universe and its “energies” to help you with any situations that have you feeling stuck or confused! Spirit wants you to be bold and daring at this time! Try new things that you otherwise never would have tried! Right now you are extremely fertile! not only in your abundance but also in your creativity! express yourself though this energy! You are getting somewhere Capricorn, believe in it!

♒️ Aquarius: Aquarius, this week you are going to be wanting to offer to “heal” or “mend” a situation that could have gone wrong not to long ago, this is something you do not “give much thought”, and yet you want to get it fixed. Aquarius whatever you chose to do, it will have a significant impact on your next couple of months! If you chose to reconcile with this person, you could end up getting hurt once more. There is something that spirit is trying to “communicate” onto you,something that you could be in “denial” at the moment. There will be much healing and learning from this experience, and there is also lots of Karma at play, if you are unaware of just what this “karma” is , spirit asks that you go “within” that way they can communicate with you, there will be deep “Transformation” going on within you.

♓️ Pisces: Pisces, something is coming to an end this week, and it could involve a relationship or situation centered around love and emotions. Some of you are ready to release “pan” and “hurt” from the past, you are ready to leave it behind so that you may start of something new and fresh! Some of you could have even been Visited by an old flame, maybe they offered you a chance to “make things better”- but there was a “Trick” to it Pisces, and so you chose to “decline” this offer. Pisces, you have broken a toxic cycle! and now have opened a “new path” before you, one where there is not only an abundance of “materials” but also an abundance of “love and emotions!”. This process will be a “balanced” one, and yet spirit and your Angles will be right by your side every step of the way. Things are looking bright Pisces! Do not give up! Be open to “receiving” all of the help that the Universe wishes to “bestow” upon you! this form can come in both the “physical plain” and the “spiritual plane”.

[flashfire344]

Antonio Cavalli

A chill wind buffets a small crowd as they shuffled into the shelter of a grand theater. The building served as both a grand theater where many historic actors took stage over the years and recently housed the Krytan College of arts. 

Before the imposing building stood Antonio adjusting his scarf as he looked up along the detailed facade that immortalized the art that had gone before it. It now sported a banner hanging from two pillars far above his head. It read "open auditions all are welcome” in cheery bright colors and artistic font. Pushing a knot down his throat he pressed on with the crowd to step through the open oaken doors into the main lobby. Immediately he felt a warmth as the college employed some magic to keep the cold from seeping in from the outside. Before him the crowd split as people went to different booths to sign up for the upcoming production. Some were auditioning to be actors and others were interning for backstage and costuming. 

Once it was his turn he stepped forward to the auditions booth and gave the woman behind the desk a smile. “Hello, welcom- Oh Antonio, you are back. Out to try again?” the woman gave him a smile in return one seeming to be more forced than genuine. “I..I think I can do it this time!” he answered in a false confidence to assure her which she nodded and said. “You get them...same role as normal?” 

“No, I think I will try for...” he pointed to one of the staring roles. The play was to be open to all auditions however some places people assumed the normal suspects would occupy spots. The event was more to find talent and give experience for people rather than to upset the status quo. 

“Are...Are you sure? Well...here I was thinking you would be suited for soldier. Our normal stand in is sick or...wait no that was who he was playing. He got attacked by one of those manta ray things people ride. Tragic really.” 

Antonio blinks at this before shrugging. “No, I need to face it and give it my all. This way I know that I won’t get the part -before- I try...Anyways yes sign me up for that please.” he gives a chipper smile before awkwardly fidgeting with his scarf. 

“Alright Antonio if you think it’s best but...you know who is probably going to get that role...” 

Antonio gives a short sigh as he says. “Brad...freaken Brad...I hate that guy...but everyone likes him.” he said candidly to the woman who simply nods in agreement. “Freaken Brad” she echos. “Well good luck Antonio we will call your number when we are ready.” 

“Alright!” he said in a overly ambitious tone that he instantly regretted as people around him looked his way for a moment. He winces as he rubs the back of his head before quickly snapping his number off and taking his packet of lines he was to read from. Slipping through the crowd he made a quick b line to a small staircase off to the side of the lobby. Once there he peeked about before unhooking a velvet rope that blocked the staircase. He looked about before stepping past and hooking it back before quietly ascending up.

The staircase lead to a old dilapidated private box overlooking the main stage. The personal box of some prominent member of high society at one point or another but now had long been unused. The insides of the box housed two people comfortably with a small table between. The cushy seats now long been dirtied with time and the walls of the box chipping. It was his little hideaway while he learned his lines. However as he stepped into it with light feet sitting at the chair on the left was a older gentlemen. Antonio gave pause seeing the man but then he smiles. “Oh you made it, I didn’t know if you would.” he addressed the man in a friendly manner before he moved to sit down to the right. 

The man kept his eyes down to the stage below to watch the hustle and bustle about to prepare for the auditions going on. Despite the nature of the event the man wore a finely tailored suit that was adorned with gold trimmings. His hands lightly rested on the arm rests clad in white gloves which had naught a wrinkle. The man held a noble air which was obvious but also something more. “You came back, I thought I told you this old box is private, boy.” the man spoke in the old Krytalian accent though faint and lingering in the air. 

“Well I wasn’t sure if you would be here today. It is just a audition...and I suppose I have been sneaking up here.” Antonio leans back into the chair. “So how are they doing? do I have to worry about Brad today?”

“That Brad has half the chops of my boy. Just because his family was from the acursed Ascalon he gets the part. Woe is me and the like...the boy doesn’t have anything other than his pitiful sad shtick. Someone needs to dethrone that wanna be.” 

Giving a sheepish smile Antonio looked down onto the stage. “Well...As it were to be, I am challenging him. Not that I really stand a chance I am not really sure about it but I am going to give it my best, Mr. Fontana.” 

“You? Challenge him? Kid you also don’t have the chops...” the man grew quiet for a moment before saying. “But I suppose if people see you try maybe others will follow.” His words were cold but Antonio didn’t mind as he scanned his lines in silence. 

Some time passes as both sit in the relative quiet of the box high above the stage. Mr. Fontana speaks up breaking the silence between the two. “Antonio...I wanted to thank you. Coming to this old box after all that’s happened was hard but...I suppose you helped make it tolerable. After all the money I put into this place to make sure my boy would have a good acting career and only for my own personal box to be in such a state...” he softly cursed before continuing. “I know I am hard on you Antonio but you got it in you. You roll with the punches and maybe you aren’t great now but keep it up and you will be shooting for the stars kid.” 

Antonio felt a sense of warm over come him as he looks towards the man. “Thank you Mr. Fontana...I will do my best and then some...you didn’t tell me you had a child.” 

“I obviously don’t like to talk about him.” he said sharply at Antonio’s comment. 

“Hey, no it’s fine Mr. Fontana I didn’t want to pry. I can understand that pain...I lost my mother when I was very young. I can only really remember very small things about her. Even then I am unsure if they are even true but I am afraid to ask my brothers if it was least my only memories about her are false. It’s weird actually, father hardly spoke about her when I grew up. He’s a soldier through and through you know. Born with ice in his veins and steel in his hands...He...I don’t think he took moms death well. When he was around he pushed us hard to learn how to defend ourselves. Donatello by practicing magic, Federico by being him...and eventually me...he was different with me though. He neither pushed me to the limit like Federico or made me learn magic like Donatello. I am not his child...but he treated me more like a father would to his child than he did Federico or Donatello. Anyways off point, you don’t need to tell me anything Mr. Fontana. But as much as I can be I am here for you if you do want to talk.” 

A silence once again forms over them as Antonio goes back to reading his lines and mouthing his lines. A understanding forms between them before from around them a voice filters through the air. “Will number 44 please come to the main stage for your audition.” 

With that Antonio stood up and stretched. “Well that was me. Here I go doing something stupid but fortune favors the bold.” he grins to the man before saying. “I hope I don’t ruin our friendship by you seeing my audition.” 

The man waves him off before saying. “Go break a leg kid.” 

With that Antonio heads down the stairs and slipping past the velvet rope before stepping through a open door to the stage. He tried to confidently walk past the judges to mount the spot where he was in clear view of them. “When you are ready.” 

Gazing up to the box high above Antonio took a breath. He opens his mouth and in a shaky stammering voice he says. “Hello, my name Antonio Cavalli...I am auditioning for the position of the prince.” a hushed conversation ensues as he says this before they nod. “Go on.” 

He took a moment of respite by closing his eyes and forcing his nerves to quell. He counted to three and then opened his eyes and in a clear voice he began to read his lines.

He would, in the moment, not feel he was doing anything particularly special as he would just run on auto pilot but after he was finished the gathered people would be quiet. A sinking pit formed in his stomach as he reached up to fidget with his scarf but to his surprise the group started to clap. “Stunning, stunning! I think we may have a long discussion about this part. Thank you Mr. Cavalli. Please we will be in touch.” 

Beaming from ear to ear Antonio gave a small bow before hurriedly rushing off to find a bathroom to ensure his stomach’s contents wouldn't be spilled on the nice parts of the theater. 

High above Mr. Fontana clapped. The sound drowned out by the others but for a moment a smile formed before he turned and walked out of the box. Like the lights being cut after a play he was gone leaving nothing behind. 

[miyoron]

Miyo’s Anime of Note 2018 Rainbow Edition

2018 was some kind of a year wasn't it? It was long and a pain in the ass but there was some anime out this year I really enjoyed. I'm here to write down a bunch of shows I enjoyed in no particular order. I might put them in the order I watched them in, or I might not. I guess we'll see huh?

Also, I think there's WAY more this year than usual which means I either like things easily, there were a lot of good shows, all of the above or some other reason. Hope I don't get too long winded on you! Also I'm using whatever names I feel like for naming things off, translated, still Japanese...whaaatever~

Pop Team Epic

Pop Team Epic was everything I wanted it to be and more. I've been a fan of Bkub's work since the early days so to see these two shitty girls finally show up on the anime screen week to week was a pleasure and a delight. The decision to make two separate half episodes with different voice actors for Popuko and Pipimi was a wonderful decision that let us experience things like Aoi Yuki as Popuko and Norio Wakamoto as Pipimi. It also shot the wonderful team of ACBU into the spotlight. Their Bobunemimimmi segments were so disgustingly perfect and fit the tone of the show perfectly. It also gave us one of the best moments in anime this year:

Needless to say, I really hope they are doing a season 2 like it's been rumored. I'm on board for SO much more.

Yuru Camp

This was a show I actually watched twice this year and have subsequently watched multiple episodes just on my own. It is one of my favorite things this year and maybe it's just because of how unassuming it is. There's honestly nothing deep to the show. Cute girls dress in warm winter clothing and go camping. However, the way everything is paced with nice warm colors and chill ass music nestles its way into your heart and fills you with a nice cozy feeling. It's like a blanket, the anime. Just wrap yourself up in the wonderful friend times and maybe you'll learn a thing or two about camping and friendship along the way.

Mitsuboshi Colors

Are adults letting you down? Sure, they're not up to the challenge pretty much all the time. But that's why you should just stay out of the way and let Colors come in to save the day! This trio of girls are ready to save their town and to let shitty cops know what's up. Seriously, it's a cute show with a cute group of friends getting into big adventures, even if those adventures are often due to their own misconceptions. It's a good show with kids who act like kids and are always either talking about poop or are sucking at video games. It's a nice show and has some good performances, as well as the best sunglasses of 2018 in my book.

Karakai no Jouzu Takagi-san

A series about a boy and a girl who are totally crushing on each other, even if one likes to keep it deeply hidden and the other would never admit it really. Oh, also she owns him every chance she can get with teasing. It's like a reverse Tonari no Seki-kun if Seki was not in his own world and was actively trying to make Rumi blush or stumble over herself. This premise may sound mean but it's honestly all in good fun and there's something really cute about the pair's friendship with each other. The way the manga apparently goes makes me really want to check it out sometime too.

Oh also there's a great side trio of friends with and I love how dumb of a baby one of them is.

Hinamatsuri

What happens when a yakuza becomes the dad of a psychic girl who crashed in an egg in his apartment and broke all his vases? This series! Hinamatsuri was a show that got me really hard this year at a couple points where I know I had to either fight back tears or take a few minutes to sit their with a quivering lip and watery eyes. It's an incredibly funny show from  the premise alone but when you have the put upon character of Nitta having to take care of the force of nature that is Hina it just escalates it. On top of that though, there's a good heart to it as well. Anzu is a wonderful character and I love her story and her many grandpas. Also Hitomi's story actively hit me hard to where I felt bad for a fictional child to please just be a child for a little while. It was powerful stuff and I loved it.

Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online

I hate Sword Art Online. I've only watched the first series with the original and faerie times, but I hated it so much. That being said, hearing that the new one was actually good made me seek it out and...thank God it is. Llenn/Karen is just a much more compelling character than the power fantasy that is Kirito. The story of a woman who does not like herself in the real world, but finds a new home and life in virtual reality is a nice little story. On top of that, ditching the stupid "if you die in the game, you die in real life" really helped the show out in my eyes. This show is not about stop some huge over arcing villainous plot to fuck over the whole world or whatever. GGO is about trying to save someone from hurting themselves and honestly, that's a lot more relatable. A recap episode in this day in age IS silly though for what it's worth.

Let's take a short break shall we? For a little section I'm gonna call, Fuck, You Let me Down Man.

Amanchu Advance

I put Amanchu on my list two years ago of Anime of Note because I really enjoyed the tale of friendship it told. Amanchu Advance continues that story and shows Teko slowly becoming more of her own person thanks to that friendship. She wants to become a stronger person, a better version of herself and it's through her friends she's able to do this. The series is still very good at showing these moments but the last few episodes of the show are bogged down in a weird supernatural plot with a ghost boy that I wish they would have just tossed down the shrine steps. The twist at the end with it was not worth sidetracking the story for three episodes in a 12 episode story and soured my experience as a whole. I've been told the author likes doing these sorts of things and I didn't mind the lucid dreaming episodes, but this bit just did not land for me and it's a big bummer.

Here's Another Side Category Called Old Anime I Watched And Enjoyed. Yes, that's the full title.

G Gundam

I don't know why it took me so long to watch this series, but I am glad I did. Maybe I just needed friends to be there to watch it with, who knows. Either way, I'm thankful I got to join Domon on his journey searching for the man in the photograph and to experience the Undefeated of the East in his most powerful form. G Gundam is a goofy setting with a bunch of weird but fun characters and their even weirder mobile suits. I don't know how much I can really say on it since I'm sure most people have probably checked it out years ago on Toonami. It's still fun and good and it has a Gundam who is a boxer and a football man at the same time. Gundam Fight, Readdddddy....GO!

Back to my normal list, though I have grouped the next couple shows in a block I am calling the "I wish these had a full 24 episodes even though I understand why they didn't but please make more I'd love it, ok thanks" block.

A Place Further Than The Universe

This show had...a lot of moments where I was sitting there and just processing all that was going on. A group of girls become friends and join a civilian expedition to Antarctica, one of whom is going there to basically go where her mother had spoken of years ago and never came back. It's a show that I felt compelled to keep watching even though I knew I should have stopped for the night, telling myself "I can watch one more episode..." . It just gripped me and sank its penguin fangs into me. Shut up, I know what I said. Seriously though, the cast of secondary characters are just as fun as the main ones and I enjoyed every minute of it. It definitely destroyed me in one of the more heavy moments near the end though so keep a box of tissues handy ok?

Wotakoi

Love is hard for otaku. It's in the show's translated title and everything. Let me tell you, I'm very happy seeing so many anime featuring adults in the work place these days. Wotakoi is a show I felt a very personal connection to, especially its humor levels. Not going to lie,  I am a Kabakura through and through when it comes to my anime watching and purchasing habits. It's a cute love story with a couple of characters getting together out of convenience before realizing maybe there's something more than that to it. The interactions are great and it's very relatable if you've ever had a friends' game night or anime watching session. It's a show that just feels like it knows just how to speak to you if you've been a fan of anime for a long time.

Hisone to Masotan

Hey, you into dragon vore? Then have I got the show for you buddy. All joking aside, Hisomaso is a show with one of the more fun protagonists I've run into in a while. Hisone's blunt and to the point to the detriment of anything that comes out of her mouth most of the time, but there's something about her honesty that's very endearing. The show's pilots are a great cast and their dragon friends are just as charismatic even if they spend a lot of the time cosplaying as aircraft. This show has a nice story about trying to find just where you fit in within the world and sometimes that's hard. Sometimes the best thing to do is dive into the gullet of a big scaly F-15 and ride the free skies to your heart's content. I love you Masotan.

Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight

This show I think more than any others in this block I wanted more of, even though I know why I don't have more of it. From episode one, I got Utena vibes with the music, the auditions, Hell, even the prefight wardrobe transformations. Stage girls do battle with all of their shine to prove who is truly the top star. That's the basic premise and the cast of characters really helps to flesh it out with their own motivations of what makes them keep going to be the very best they can be. I loved all of the imagery in the auditions and the music and the big doofy giraffe just watching from the stands and enjoying the whole thing. Revue Starlight is a stylish show with some amazing animation and choreography that puts most of the things I watched this year to shame and I need more things like it.

STOP IT'S PRECURE TIME

Go Princess Precure

This is me and Cheapsteak's "old Precure" of the year and it's wonderful. It's a story about dreams and fighting for them. The Princess Precures are maybe not the most relatable of characters as they attend a very prim and proper high class school. One is a business conglomerate's daughter, one's a super model, one's a Princess from another plane entirely. But there is something wonderful how they all work together as friends and work to save everyone's dreams, I don't know there's something very good and wonderful about that. I love that even when it comes to one of the villains, a character in the show goes out of her way to help him with his self esteem (and make up). I don't know, I've got a few episodes left but I just love it. Haruka is my favorite Pink Precure I've met so far and she is gonna be tough to beat.

Hugtto Precure

Very similar to Go Princess is Hugtto, with its message of hope for the future because you can't just stay in the present. There's a great cast of characters and they all work so hard to cheer each others' dreams on, all while taking care of a baby and a hamster from the future. I think this show also has the best mid-seasons Cures I've met so far and just...everything with how supportive and good everyone is to each other has me smiling the whole time. Also in the episodes leading up to the anniversary movie this year, we got some of the best big moments I've seen in a show in a while. A lot of the episodes have some amazing animation work as well and just...I like this show a lot especially what it did to show Hana's pre-show back story as well. Pink Cures are really good huh?

Back to business!

Asobi Asobase

Along with PTE, this was one of the weirder comedies that I watched this year. It's often crass or just outright weird, but that's one of its strong points I think. The show's opening is a giant fakeout from what seems like your ordinary "cute girls doing club things" chill show because you're soon hit with some of the weirdest faces and shrieks that I've run into in a while. The characters are a troublesome group of weirdoes who try to do activities like a normal club but fail horribly at it, often due to one or more of them sabotaging it with their own dumbness. It really says something that the sweetest and most relatable characters are the witch girls who practice curses all day. They're really the best though but so are all of the fucking weirdoes in this show. Also there's ass lasers so if you're into that...

Cells at Work

Learn about the human body while dangerous viruses and germs get fucking iced like they walked into the wrong anime. Follow a red blood cell make her way through the blood stream and lose her way every single time. Thrill at the amazingly adorable platelet crew as they get to work each day. Cells at Work is a weird science shounen show with some great character designs and interactions. The way the cells just are working hard and doing their jobs as best they can is great and you want to root for them so hard. Those Killer T and White blood cells and Macrophages just love killing SO much. It's a fun show that teaches you about biology and anatomy in a somewhat rudimentary but enjoyable manner.

Plus I will stress again, the platelet design is beyond cute.

Skullface Book Seller Honda-san

Honda-san is a cute little series you could watch in an afternoon due to its episode count and length, but it's one I could see myself watching multiple times easily. It's a fun window into the window of book store retail and the Japanese publishing industry. The characters have fun designs, mostly normal bodies with some kind of weird mask/helmet on but they're very relatable. Honda-san does his best to help out the customers, even when their requests tear at his very sanity some times. But that's retail huh? It's fun though, go check out this good skeleton!

Bloom Into You

I think this was the show that intrigued me the most this year because I was just hooked on the relationship between Yuu and Touko and seeing how it advanced. Yuu is a girl who wants to be able to fall in love like everyone else her age seems to be able to and when she finally meets a girl who she thinks feels similarly...that darn senpai falls in love with her. It's a very relatable tale even if you haven't been in a lot of relationships. Seeing Yuu realize her own feelings slowly grow towards Touko and the issues that come up because of was something that had me wanting to find out more each week. It also was the show that took me the longest to come to my final thoughts on too due to its ending but ultimately, I'm glad I watched it.

Zombieland Saga

Honestly, I'm glad to start and end this list with certifiable bangers. The concept of zombies becoming idols sounds like it could just go so wrong but it doesn't. It's so good and fun and goofy. The characters are all really fun and goofy but still have depth to them, even zombie brained legend Yamada Tae. I love this show and every character in it and if there were Franchouchou concerts done like a Hatsune Miku tour, I'd go so hard. Zombieland Saga is a good and powerful show and it even has a good ending with a sequel hook. Watch these girls and cheer them on, that is an order.

I normally do a "Shows I'll Watch Next Year" section but I realize I never end up doing it so I'm just going to add one of my current ones I know I'll continue watching.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Golden Wind

Come on, you knew this was going to be on here right? I'm curious where this gangster plot line is going and can't wait to continue next year.

So that's my list, I hope you enjoyed it. For a special treat to go into 2019, I leave you with the best moment in anime 2018. Peace!

Ah well I got copyright striked so here’s a mirror

https://streamable.com/87z73

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | SESSIONS | TATIANA GARCIA

House Of Vans Chicago was going off with talent last night with rad skating, music and art.  We’re interviewing artist Tatiana Garcia who was hard at work on her live painting piece for SESSIONS HOV Chicago. Tatiana’s art is filled with colorfully fun and imaginative monsters in her own warped fairytale. Through bold color and clean lines, she tells her tale of super strange and cute creatures, including her main one who drips with whipped cream hair and sprinkles. Tatiana shares her artistic influences, her journey to becoming a full time artist, and what inspired her live painting at SESSIONS.

SESSIONS features live painting, open skate, emerging musician showcases and more, so make sure to check out and RSVP for upcoming SESSIONS in HOV CHICAGO and HOV BROOKLYN.  

Photographs courtesy of the artist. Portrait by Peyote Creative. 

Introduce yourself?  I am an artist from Chicago. I am a painter, illustrator and creator of Elloo (my monster fairytale world). It’s been over year and a half since I took art full-time. Before that I worked random jobs (switching jobs every year) until I finally decided I was ready to pursue art. I kept getting opportunities to paint and couldn’t resist. Life slowly kept pushing me towards this sweet path. It’s been a crazy journey.

Can you tell us a little about your piece and design for SESSIONS House of Vans Chicago?   I wanted to paint something sweet and fun for Sessions. The main character is one of my monsters with whipped cream hair, and sprinkles of course. It’s surrounded by happy clouds and cute little stars. For this live painting session I want to challenge myself to use a limited number of colors, including black and white.

What materials will you be using on your live painting for SESSIONS? I will be using acrylic and house paint to fill in the main sections. I use Golden Fluid Acrylic for my line work. It’s the best thing to fall on my lap. The paint makes my lines super fine and each stroke perfect.

Where do you learn to paint? Was it something you self taught yourself or did you go to an art school? I went to art school for graphic design and graduated from the University of Illinois at Chicago. I took art classes in high school, but didn’t really take it serious. Art wasn’t something that my mom pushed on me, plus I was terrible at drawing. While I enjoyed it in high school I didn’t think it would be a good career decision but since I wasn’t great at math, science or writing I said why not? Hahahahah lack of options pushed me more into art. I learned how to draw in college, turns out I just had to dedicate myself more to the craft.

When did you first get into drawing?  When did you realize that you could do this for a living? I really got into drawing after my first drawing class at UIC. One of my professors encouraged me to pursue it more seriously. Again, why not? I decided to take my second drawing class and everything finally made sense. I was actually drawing toilet paper and everything spilled from my subconscious: lines, shadows, proportions, everything. Since then I just drew all the time. For a while I loved drawing old people and shortly after a lot of anatomy. 

I realized I could do this for a living after working full-time for six months. I became a different person, I started having less time for painting and that crushed me. Being unhappy just wasn’t worth it. I had some savings and gigs lined up so I said let’s do this. Have not had regrets since then.

Who were some of your early artistic influences? As a youngen I watched a lot of Tom and Jerry, Speedy Gonzales and collected Lisa Frank. I'm sure that inspired me somehow. There was some Rainbow Brite, and a bunch of other magical stuff.

What artists past and present are you really into at the moment? Any particular reason why? I really dig artist who create their own worlds and characters. Some of my fave artists are Buff Monster, Jason Limon, Ten Hundred, Joey D, and Hikari Shimoda. I love the magical worlds they create and the great color usage. They all amaze and inspire me to push myself and go bigger and create more.

What makes you smile when viewing art? What is it you’re looking at – composition, color, line? I really love looking at color and cute characters. Tiny characters or cutesy elements really make my smile. When viewing art I enjoy diving into the persons imagination. I like seeing how much they stray away from reality and create what doesn't exist. Then I look at technique and line work.

What’s a common misconception about artists? Hmmmmm, probably that its an “easy” career. All one does is paint and life is full of rainbows. Everyone wishes they could have this life. Truth be told, it takes a lot of work to get to the point where one can just paint. Takes a lot of hustling and networking. As an artist, I have to find my gigs, put out product to make money, and network to get new opportunities.

How do you overcome drawer’s block? To overcome drawer’s block I take a break from whatever it is I’m working on. I have found it best to not force myself to draw/paint. I’ll take my chihuahua on a walk or ill clean my studio. There is something about cleaning that makes me feel better. THere are times when I revisit my old work and try to rework those designs. But the thing that seems to work the best is taking a break to clear my head.

What type of music do you listen to when creating? Do you find it helps motivate you or just allows for background noise I love having background noise, it’s a must. I mostly watch tv shows that can run continuously in the background. Lately I’ve been watching Third Rock From the Sun. I also dabble in court shows or Criminal Minds type of shows.

What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist? Well I have tried a decent amount of career options to know that nothing compares to being an artist.

What are your favorite Vans?
 Really diggin' the checker slip-ons. Lace free all the way!

What advice do you have for folks who want to do art for a living? Takes a lot of patience and dedication. It’s a journey of challenges, ups and downs, and you learn a lot about yourself. I say believe in yourself and make it worth it. Take on new challenges and say yes to new things. It’s a beautiful journey with a lot of failing and doubt but in the end it’s worth it.

What are you super excited about that is coming up this year? This year I have a couple of duo shows I’m thrilled about. In May with Red (@the_red_door) and in October with Joey D (joeyd76). In between all that getting back into sculpting and hopefully doing toys…hopefully. A bunch of other things as well, especially summer. Nice weather to start painting outside.

Follow Elloo Instagram | @ellooelloo 

[italicwatches]

Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online - Episode 02

Okay, let’s get into this a little deeper. It’s Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online, episode 02! Here we GO!

-It’s July 2025. We come in on Karen, who’s been attending university in Tokyo for the last three months. She thought things might change, but…They’re not. She’s still awkward, and shy, and taller than any of the other women in her classes. She’s still having no luck finding a job, and spending her days going from apartment to school to apartment if she goes out at all.

-A gaggle of schoolgirls pass by, and Karen can’t help but be deeply envious of the tiny adorable things. Made all the more real when she tries to walk past, and cracks her head on a hanging sign. The pain is real.

-Opening! Which, the more I watch it it’s very interesting how much…*fulfillment[i] they wrap into the game environment. This is very clearly a space where not just Karen/LLENN, but a lot of the people around her, find themselves.

-August. Karen went back home for the summer break. With nothing better to do, she ended up getting curious about VR games after seeing a news report on the new, next-gen hardware made to simplify the VR connection and block off a lot of the safety problems with the SAO-era gear. And something about the idea grabbed her…

-Which is how she ended up snaring an old acquaintance to learn about the things…An acquaintance who was, of course [i]very* eager to tell her everything about her passionate hobby.

-She got the gear, and a copy of Alfheim Online, and settled in to try it back at her place….And it was in! She picked the name LLENN for the first time, went through the creation process….

-And became a tall, graceful elf.

-She was NOT into that. At all. It freaked her out so bad that she actually tripped the safety sensors and got forcefully logged out.

-And learned from said acquaintance, Miyu, that the whole system automatically creates characters for you…She could try again, or try shifting her account to a different game in the same engine. Which is not how game design works, but, you know what, okay. So Karen tried something else…

-And again and again, her characters kept being big. Racing game? Tall sexy racer. Flight game? Thicc pilot. Sci-fi game? What a halloween store would call “Sexy Chilled Alien” because it’s off-brand Frieza race. Fantasy games? A buff-ass barbarian queen and a…I think they’re going for orc there but the Western and Eastern ideas of ‘orc’ have diverged so fucking far it’s hard to tell. Sexy mermaid. And finally Karen was just pushing on through sheer god damned stubbornness.

-When she stumbled onto Gun Gale Online.

-And it put her, after 37 different games attempted, as like three and a half feet tall. At that point it officially stopped mattering what the game was about. It officially stopped mattering what kind of crazy mechanics she’d have to learn. All that mattered was being a tiny adorable waif of a girl for the first time since she was a child. The identity of LLENN ended up filling her heart that day…

-And then she did the tutorial. And got to learn that her true LLENN was in a shooty shooty game and being taught by a dominatrix drill sergeant. This was not what LLENN planned on doing on this day. She learned of the two core gun types, laser guns and slug throwers.

-Side diversion! This is actually an interesting thing to be using in a representation of an online shooter, because shooters tend to divert into two key types of handling their bullets; Some games(or even some guns in games that use both) use hitscan, where at the moment you squeeze the trigger it instantly draws a straight line and sees where it hits, while others use projectile based systems where a bullet is actually spawned and sent at high speeds with physics and time applying. Both of these are entirely valid systems, but which one you’re dealing with has strong implications for higher level play.

-But here in Gun Gale Online, another core difference was put into play; namely, laser guns(or as they call them, optical guns) could be defended against by energy fields. Live ammo’s a different story.

-So LLENN got to learn about the Bullet Line, the singular warning sign that an attack is imminent. She got to shoot her first gun, and learn about the system’s Bullet Circle idea to model the randomness of bullet spread…Which would be fine if LLENN could keep the fucking pistol steady enough for the Circle to stay in a single place.

-She got to try pistols, and sniper rifles, and submachine guns…And at least the submachine gun was vaguely suited to her skills.

-Cut to September. LLENN’s decided to stick with the game. Because being this tiny adorable figure was just too good to give up. She ended up doing PvE, just learning the systems. The whole time she was playing solo, just thrilling in the experience of being LLENN…But she hit a bit of a problem.

-A distinct lack of cute and adorable outfits in this grim serious game. …On the other hand, they had a color palette system. So she took her drab green military garb, and turned it BRIGHT PINK. She even had her optical gun done! And hearing comments from other players, was enough to keep her playing…

-Until one day she was out in the field, had set up a trap for some monsters, and put on some tunes while she relaxed. It’s at this moment that I realize they keep using the same artist name, so I have to imagine that one Elsa Kanzaki is either a really neat reference I don’t get, or going to be relevant. Either way, I should probably note it.

-She could eat cookies and drink tea as much as she wanted, with no worries of calories…But, this trap she set up was in a free-for-all area. And another group of players spawned in. She considered running, or logging out, and ultimately ended up hiding…Not noticed…Her trap went off, and in a panic, she raced in and started firing wildly!

-That whole time, she’d been cranking her SPD stat through the roof with her XP, needing it to deal with giant monsters solo…And so she tore through the three in a flash…When LLENN had enough time to stop and think, and notice that her pink outfit was actually almost the same color as the sunset-lit desert sands…

-Within a few weeks, people were talking about the Pink Devil in chat. A PKer who operates the desert field, ambushing anyone who gets close…A tiny, speedy little demon with two submachine guns.

-Because, indeed, LLENN had thrown some currency into a pair of live-ammo guns, and had turned the desert into her domain to roam freely in, to run far and wide on her tiny tiny legs…

-Until one day, someone caught her and put a gun to her head. A woman in all black, who liked the Pink Devil’s style…Enough to not shoot her. To think the infamous Pink Devil was so teeny and adorable. And she offered a trip back into town to get some tea, since this game didn’t have anywhere near enough female players…

-That was how LLENN met Pitohui, or Pito. Who, true story, added those tattoo cosmetics to her face to reduce how many guys were hitting on her in the game. And played GGO since launch day. While LLENN had only been in for about three months at this point.

-Pito found her more than interesting enough to send her a friend request, and the two ended up in an obscure shop in the corner of town, with rare drops from the PvE segment…Which is how LLENN found her P90, a hot new arrival sitting on the shelf for mere minutes. She bought it right then and there…And with Pito’s encouragement, she named it.

-P-chan. She named that gun P-chan. And let me tell you there is nothing that has made me laugh quite so hard as LLENN enthusiastically saying she’ll do her best to kill lots and lots, while the swelling meaningful-moment music plays.

-Anyways, she and Pito became a squad, and would go hunting and PKing a lot. But aside from having enough real-world money to keep dropping premium currency on fancy shit, LLENN barely knew anything about Pito.. She barely ever listened to music, didn’t watch a lot of movies…And of course LLENN still had lots of anxiety about any talk of real life.

-So Pito ended up putting down a challenge. Take her down in the PvP mode one day, rookie. Get a kill on her, and she’d made sure they could meet in real life. Take that challenge and live up to it. And LLENN was fired up about it, as they made a woman’s promise!

-January came, and they celebrated together in the game. And LLENN learned about the new battle royale mode, the Squad Jam…

-Credits!

I did not expect this much feels from my cute-girls-shooting-cute-guns anime.

[starlitesymphony]

Novel Snippet #2

I was really tickled by your response to the first one (thanks again, you guys rock!) Here’s a much longer one, featuring grand-theft starship--and also some of Quin’s abilities. Space station security? No biggie!

You can read the blurb for Ark of the Timelost and the 1st snippet here.

@lady-redshield-writes, @ally-thorne, @toboldlywrite, @writeontheedge, @writerray, @hklunethewriter, @danceny, @loveiseldritch (please let me know if you’d like off the list--or on)

The shuttle hatch splits open and Maddox steps out like we’ve just arrived in Gallanthius’s Central Promenade. A loose swarm of people fill the cylinder-shaped concourse, emerging from and stepping into airlocks on all sides. The shuffling of footsteps is nearly louder than the sparse conversation. 

I stride after him, resolving to mimic his professional air. Every color of uniform streams around me. The occasional floral dress or casual top break up an otherwise very official crowd. All of them with hair cropped in a practical manner. All of them at least a head shorter than either of us.

|Not to worry,| Maddox messages. |Here, the more you stand out, the fewer questions they ask.|

I catch a few sideways glances in my periphery, but soon focus on his back and the art of walking casually. By now, security is watching, perhaps even following. I haven’t spotted anyone yet. I bet Maddox has, though.

It’s odd. All of these officers, all of these middle-aged and even elderly people, all of them traveling alone, with no apprentice in sight. I know the Imperian military is entirely unlike the Troika. But it still feels more foreign here than I thought it would. And they just seem…so old. Maddox is old, really old, but he doesn’t resemble them in the slightest.

We board a sterile trolley with a somber group in burgundy and silver. Their eyes are too busy with glinting cortex feeds to pay us much mind, other than sideways glances from two younger women with matching jeweled insignia on their neck scarves.

Almost everyone files into the hall on our first stop. Maddox and I move toward the front. Soon, after the next stop, we find ourselves alone, whisking along increasingly rusted and mossy tunnelways with only the occasional blocky hatch on either side. Moments of darkness pass where lights have broken. This may be a space station, but it feels like a derelict mine, left to decay long after its ores had been extracted.

|What is this place?| I tap. We couldn’t have missed our stop. Maybe we’re going to some forgotten security terminal.

|The Imperia has to keep its decommissioned starships somewhere, in case a new prisma deposit is discovered, although that particular hope is roughly six centuries dead.|

|Couldn’t they grow more ships, though? If more prisma was ever found.|

Maddox smiles darkly, and sighs. |Growing a fleet would take years. And imagine if a sizable prisma deposit was discovered. If the Imperia didn’t outright crumble, they would have multiple rebellions on their hands, across at least a dozen star systems. Hale would probably be first in line. The Imperia’s power lies more in its monopoly on prisma than anything else.|

|So when the Collective ordered the missile strike on Vassra’s base—when they called it preemptive—|

|They’ve been challenged by organized pirates before. Not in a long time, but they don’t want to take their chances, clearly.|

I glance at my feet, eager to change the subject but unable to stop thinking of Mother, and what if she’s somewhere in that base? Only a slim chance, Maddox said. But he could have been hiding the truth. He could have lied. He might know she’s there for sure, but would he even tell me?

No, no. This is no time for that. I’ll watch the windows, try to blank out my growing alarm.

Meanwhile, Maddox is a picture of tranquility. Perhaps weathering an internal storm, or as unworried as Ash accused him of being, there’s no way for me to know. As if the conversation I’d overheard never happened. He suspects his own mentor of betraying us, yet watches through the trolley’s spotless windows with resignation, eyes glinting blue.

We slow to a stop, and the doors slide open, almost tentatively, as if our transportation is having second thoughts about dropping us off in such a remote location. A wide platform awaits us when we step through. The tiles, arranged in what must’ve been a spectacular mosaic, lie chipped and fragmented and overgrown with moss and creeping vines. Lichen-speckled reliefs cover the walls. Towering statues guard the outer bulkhead. The Navigator, with her signature third eye, nothing but a blank divot where a sapphire should be. Beside her, the Mariner, the second-in-command who braved the first warp journey. Some of the gold leaf is still visible in her hair.

I crane back my head, gaze wandering up the length of the diamond bulkhead, taller than Ash’s shuttle.

Maddox slips back his sleeve and presses his seal against a corroded sensory bar. Low rumbling fills the tunnel as the trolley whisks away, leaving us in the glimmering light of a thousand pinpoints in the rafters. Broken glass twinkles along the base of the walls and at the feet of the deities. The picked-over remains of offerings from a thousand years ago.

Maddox pulls back from the bulkhead as a burst of stale air vents from the bottom. “Rather humbling, isn’t it? I wonder if they could’ve guessed that one day, it would be merely the two of us standing here, not even paying reverence.”

I nudge some pottery shards with my toe. “I think they would’ve been more appalled to see their holy site turned into a military base.”

Once the bulkhead grinds open enough for us to duck through, we emerge into a great cathedral of a vestibule, so overgrown with foliage that almost all of the lights have been blocked out. Orchids spring from defaced reliefs. Glass and wood and Mariner-knows-what-else crunch underfoot. A pile of brown bones lies off to the side of the next bulkhead. Animal, or…? Perhaps better not to look closely.

Another press of Maddox’s seal, and machinery protests and grinds far below. Like we’re breaking into an ancient crypt.

|This next passage is where I need you to wait. Find a place on the ceiling. You can’t interrupt me until I finish with the codes, so if anyone comes, it’s your job to neutralize them.|

We duck through into darkness. A rotten, nostril-burning stench washes over me. Insects…I hope insects…scuttle at my ankles, and the buzzing of flies makes a perfect compliment to the hideous smell. Luckily, it only takes a few moments for my olfactory system to recognize and block out the molecules. My visual feed ever-so-helpfully identifies their source. |Chupher’s corpseflower approx. 45 blooms detected.|

“If the whole ship is like this, we’re taking a different one,” Maddox grumbles.

I follow his faintly glowing outline. “It’s not so bad once the scent’s blocked.”

“I won’t have you breathing poison for the length of the trip. This ship’s environment must be severely unbalanced to allow an infestation like this.”

My eyes haven’t fully adjusted to the dark, only enough to show monochromatic foliage and the flat, gargantuan surface of the primary bulkhead. Maddox rips back a few vines to reveal a control array sitting cockeyed on a pedestal. He sinks his hands into ports on either side, with a lot more indifference than I’d be able to muster. Imagine how many insects have found their way to the tactile jelly within, if there’s even still enough to make a neural connection.

“Now,” he says, hands working tentatively, the glow of his skin intensifying. “I’ll be unresponsive for only a few minutes. Off you go.”

I glance up once more. I don’t see any movement, but…am I really going to stop and check for centipedes? Creepy-crawlies dart up my arms. I squeeze my hands into fists. What would Maddox would say if I told him I was more afraid of bugs than security guards? It’s not even a very good joke.

Shadowy armor tendrils rise from my shoulders and attach in the depths above. My senses expand with them—I feel the touch of warm dew, followed by the papery flick of leaves, and the squish of layered moss. Then, the rough stone lining the passage.

Once my nanoarmor has shooed all the insects away, I sail up into darkness, leaving Maddox staring resolutely ahead, eyes bright with data streams.

I anchor myself with a few tendrils from my calves and back and hang like an upside-down spider.

This chamber would have been a sort of inner sanctum, back in the Age of Pilgrimage. Starship captains weren’t just pilots. They were practically disciples, chosen to lead congregations in the Navigator’s footsteps. While the captain initiated boarding sequences, like Maddox is doing, the room would have been packed with the most privileged followers, chanting the same low, breathy prayers heard in cathedrals all over Imperian worlds.

The only ones doing any chanting now are toads croaking off in the far corner.

A message snaps through my visual feeds. It’s from Ash.

|Docked. A lot of shuttles just entered the tracks above us. No definite ID on them until their next orbit, but you should probably hurry.|

|That was quick,| I tap against the carbon black of a nanoarmor tendril.

|Yeah. And four security guards just got on the trolley, headed in your direction.|

My stomach jolts. Four of them? Why couldn’t it be just two? |Carrying plasma rifles, I suppose.|

|Didn’t look like it. No masks, either, so just put them to sleep. And yeah, you should really hurry.|

Tense, silent seconds tick by, stretching into minutes, or possibly years. My breath is perfectly measured but it makes no difference to my flailing thoughts. We already broke the law by leaving Gallanthius. Still, I hadn’t exactly planned on adding assault on Imperian security to my records, too. At least, not all in the same day.

Maddox’s eyes are still glazed when the soft whirring sound of the trolley echoes through the passage, followed by four sets of cautious footsteps. Judging by their disjointed movement, they’re carrying rifles of some kind, but not with much sense of authority.

A woman’s voice rings out. “Navigator’s breath, what is that smell? You there! Turn around. Now.”

She uses a surprisingly diplomatic tone, considering that Maddox’s silhouette must look taller than a willow tree, stillness matched by the stone in my armor’s grasp.

The guards shuffle into view, hefting ordinary projectile rifles. Bars of light blink from their meandering spotlights. They truly must have no idea who they’re dealing with. I’m going to keep it that way. They’ve only seen Maddox’s back so far.

With the ease of a thought, my hair twists into a web of armor tendrils and whips out to a new anchor point. I slip silently into position just above the guards’ heads.

The woman speaks up again. “Sir, we would be happy to escort you to the proper concourse. We just need to scan your military seal and we can all be on our way. Turn around, please.”

My visual feeds light up with new information from my armor. |Mapping scent receptors of (4) individuals—Grade 6 tranquilizer available—(3) seconds for Grade 7 availability.|

“Shh. Look at him. He hasn’t moved.” A male voice this time, a bit shaky. “He’s locked into boarding sequences.”

“Boarding sequences?” the woman scoffs. “For what? One of these old heaps? Come on.”

“No, but look.” One of the spotlights settles on Maddox’s back. I focus on the four helmeted heads below. I extend my hand, nanoarmor tendrils trailing from each fingertip, obsidian points sharpening to microscopic needles.

At last, all four of them exhale at the same time.

Armor tendrils dart beneath their nostrils, release a puff of odorless tranquilizer, and whisk back into my hand in the space of a blink. Even grade seven takes a few seconds to knock someone out. Hopefully, with their adrenals rushing as they are, it’ll work faster this time.

“You smell something dead, madam?” It’s the male voice again, hitching on some of the consonants, slurring almost imperceptibly on the m’s.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Sergeant Nathine.”  She takes a few determined steps forward, only to stumble on a broken tile and pitch forward with gurgling growl.

“What’s the matter with all of you?” she mutters, and passes out on a rough-looking root mass.

The other three crumple down without another coherent word. Pulses beat steadily in my visual feed, and their brain waves fluctuate rapidly toward REM sleep. Those will be some interesting dreams.

I lower myself to the ground and withdraw my armor, returning skin and uniform to their usual appearance, and pause to straighten the hem of my jacket. I glance over the security guards, reduced to a sullen, humiliated heap in this dank cell of a boarding passage. It’s not like I killed them, but a knot grows in my chest anyway.

It’s not like I even harmed them. Even so, I, a Troika, laid hands on Imperian guards, sort of. Will that get me a mere wrist-slap when all of this is over? Or will Maddox insist on taking the blame, for this and everything else?

“Quin.”

I whirl around. Maddox pulls his hands loose from the control array, and gives them a firm shake. He nods toward the bulkhead, which hasn’t so much as budged. “We have to move quickly now. I’ve received a message from Aneke.”

Clicks and whirs of machinery grumble far below us. My ankles vibrate with the first groans from the overgrown bulkhead. I wait for him to continue, but he merely tucks away his hands and stares ahead with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

“Let me guess.” I hug my arms to my chest. The bulkhead ticks unenthusiastically upwards. “Aneke does not approve.”

“Worse.” He grits his teeth a moment before continuing. “She’s been sent to convince us to cease and desist. And she’s in orbit now.”

He crouches beside the bulkhead, watching the gap widen. Crystalline black nanoarmor glints at his brow and temples, and licks out from his fingertips when he touches the ground.

“Our only chance is to outrun her,” he says, with typical finality.

“But you were her apprentice. Ash, too. Would she really stand against you? She can be a bit cross at times, but I don’t think—”

“Forgive me, Quin,” Maddox interrupts, tone dropping low, “but you don’t know the first thing about Aneke. She’s going to stop us, if she can. She has no other choice.”

He slides his arm under the bulkhead, pokes and prods with a narrow-eyed glare, and sinks into a shadowy black pool before vanishing altogether through the narrow opening.

I kick out at an upturned tile. It breaks off with a crack. If he’d only tell me. The truth about himself, his mentor, anything, ever.

“Are you still coming?” Maddox calls.

“Well, yes—”

“Then get in here, because we have to run. Hurry!”

I drop flat and jam my way through the opening, teeth clenched all the while.

((Thank you so much for reading!!))

[hetbigbang]

D-DAY IS HERE

IT'S DEADLINE DAY!!

Art and Fics Due - September 26th, 11:59 PM (Midnight) PST (here is a timezone converter.) ~ We can't wait to see what you all have created and can't wait to share it with everyone! IMPORTANT NOTE: I will be sending out emails to our artists who were willing to pinch hit art, as we have one outstanding art claim, and we may delay Debut Day if it is not picked up. (There may also be a slight delay because the mods are sick and in school, but we are doing our best not to let that happen!) POSTING: In case you need a hand with posting or last minute questions, check under the cut for a rundown on how to post your final works to the 2018 Collection.

POSTING REQUIREMENTS Where do we post our completed fics? We are using AO3 collections, with the deadline for submission as September 26th, and the reveal date of October 1st. You can post them up early!! Post them up now, if you want! You can also post your fics anywhere else you like, just don't post them anywhere before the Debut Date. Everyone who has signed up for this challenge should have an AO3 account, but if you don't, you can still sign up. You can ask a friend for an invite code, or you can request from A03 here or at

ao3_invitecodes. If you are unfamiliar with it, here is the FAQ of AO3. Do not publish your fic for everyone to see at AO3. Instead, submit it for our 2018 collection. Only the author of a work can add it to a collection, and then the mods approve it and we'll reveal it on the Debut Date. Once you've done that, we are also asking you to drop an email to thehetbigbang [at] gmail dot com when you submit your work to A03, with the following information: Email Subject Line: (Fic or Art Submission. YOUR NAME.)

AO3 Name/LJ Name: (both) Fandom: Pairing: Artwork or Fic: (artwork for "Title of Fic, by Author") or (Fic: "Title, rating, and word count. Big Bang or Little Bang.") Summary: (if applicable.)

Further Posting guidelines below. (The pics used are for the old 2012 submissions, but just mentally adjust for 2018.) 1. Sign up for A03. You can ask a friend for an invite code, or you can request from A03 here or at

ao3_invitecodes. 2. DO NOT POST YOUR FICS/ARTS SO THAT THE GENERAL PUBLIC CAN SEE THEM. Double check after posting to make sure it doesn't get posted to the general audience. If it does, delete the work and start over. Instead, you need to allow the mods to collect your fic/arts so that we can reveal everything together on October 1st. Go here, to the 2018 Het Big Bang Collection, and go the "Post to Collection" button in the top right corner. The collection is currently open, moderated and unrevealed.

This will bring you to the normal template where you submit your fic/artwork. In the first block, you fill out all the tags: fandom, warnings, ratings, characters, pairings, additional tags, etc. In the second block, you fill out the preface information, including title, summary, and author's notes. 2a. For Artist: your summary line should include your author's name and the title of their story (if you know it). 3. In the third block, for "Associations" make sure the line for "Post to Collections/Challenges" lists "Het_Big_Little_Bang_Challenge_2018."

3a. For Artists: the next line, "Gift this work to:" should be filled out as well. Artist, you know your Author's A03 name, which should have been provided to you through your emails. If for some reason it was not, please contact your authors and get this name from them. Fill in the "Gift this work to:" line with your author's name. That will link your artwork to them. After the submissions have gone live on the Debut Date, we would like you to go back and edit your submission to add in a link to the specific story you created your artwork for. But until the entire big bang goes public, the main way you'll attach your artwork to the piece will be by identifying the author through gifting. When you finally get the chance to link to the story, edit your submission and use the HTLM coding: <*a href="INSERT THE URL HERE">Title, by Author. (Remove the *) You can put this in your author's note or summary. 3b. For Authors: After the submissions have gone live on the Debut Date, we would need you to go back and edit your submission to add in a link to the specific artwork that was created for your story. You don't have to "Gift this work to:" to the artist, but it'd be neat if you wanted to do so. When you finally get the chance to link to the artwork, edit your submission and use the HTLM coding: <*a href="INSERT THE URL HERE">Title, by Artist. (Remove the *) You can put this in your author's note or summary. 4. Formatting and coding guidelines are important. 4a. For Artists: AO3 video embeds are working from Youtube, Vimeo, blip.tv, Dailymotion, Viddler, Metacafe, and 4shared. So if you have a video, you upload it to Youtube for example, and then embed into an AO3 post. For images like artwork and icons and banners and cover art, use the <*img src="INSERT YOUR URL HERE"> HTML coding (remove the *). You can first upload your images at Tinypic or imgbox or a similar image hosting website, and then make an A03 post with the HTML coding. (*NOTE: As of 2017, photobucket no longers allows you to post and link without paying big bucks, so avoid photobucket.) 5. Submit your fic/artwork. You need to make sure when you hit "Post" that you see this text at the top of the resulting page:

"This work is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon! You can find details here: Het Big/Little Bang Challenge 2018"

6. Now, your fic should NOT be displayed to the general audience. It might not even show up on your dash, but fear not. You can still edit, add new chapters, mess around with it to your heart's content. We, the mods, unfortunately do not have access to your story. We cannot tell if it is properly formatted or not. THIS IS FRUSTRATING, but there's nothing we can do about it. We can only see your name. All works are titled "Mystery Works" until we reveal the entire big bang. So, please make sure your own fic is properly formatted. If you need to edit your fic, login and go to your dashboard. Go to the "Edit Works" button in the top right corner. From there, you can edit your works.

A03 will require you to format a header with all regular information on it. Remember to properly tag your works, including appropriate warnings. Both HTML and Rich Text are supported, and you can edit/delete, have multiple chapters, etc... 1. The Rich Text Editor lets you add formatting, links and pictures to text without using HTML tags. It also has an option for pasting from Word which will preserve some of your Word formatting, although please note that this is buggy. The Rich Text Editor is only available for your work text. 2. The HTML editor allows you to change the look of your text with HTML tags. It can be used in any place you can submit text, although some fields permit only a small subsection of allowed tags. You can see a full list of the allowed HTML on the Archive FAQ, but the standard HTML tags is as follows: b, big, blockquote, br, caption, center, datetime, div, dl, dt, em, h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6, height, hr, href, i, img, ins, small, span, src, strike, strong, sub, sup, table, u, and more. Also, a few years ago,

anr was a saint and provided you with a post that explained "how to format a fic for posting in less than 30 seconds no matter the story length or amount of formatting" trick. The mods won't be overly picky about formatting. I'd prefer for all dividers and scene breaks to use <*hr> (remove the *) which creates a horizontal line that serves perfectly as a scene break. However, that's optional. You choose your own way to format. Other optional suggestions, just for uniformity sake's: How do I do Chapter Titles: Bold 'em. How do I timestamp and do locations: Italicize the dates and locations. How do I do subtitle stuff: Italicize it. There is only one major fail regarding format, and that has to do with paragraphs breaks. There must be a full line break between paragraphs. Example of doing it wrong:

Chapter One: The Invasion March 6, 2005 - The City of Atlantis Elizabeth ducked quickly behind a console and attempted to catch her breath. A flush of pink colored her cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on her brow. If the situation weren't so dire, John would have been turned on. As it was, however, he couldn't give it much thought as he had to focus on the batch of Ancient zombies that were slowly staggering in through the Stargate. "At least they can't run," he offered lamely. Elizabeth spared him a glare. "Why can't they run?" "I don't know." John shrugged. "But they never seem to run. They always lurch. Maybe when they're brought back to life they don't get knees?"

Example of doing it right:

Chapter Two: Ancient Ex-Girlfriends Yes, They're Zombies Too Elizabeth peeked around the consol. "Oh, my god," she breathed. "Is that--" "Chaya?!" John squeaked. "Talk about creepy ex-girlfriends." Rodney scrunched his nose. "She doesn't look good in green." John cringed and crouched down lower. "Do you think she's their leader?" Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "Well, this may be better for us." She narrowed her eyes at John. "We can give them you in trade for a cease fire--" Something caught her attention behind John and she broke off. "No, wait. Look to the left! That's... oh, god, John. That's Teer!" John and Rodney stared in disbelief. "Damn you, Kirk!" Rodney groused, and hit John upside the head. "We're going to be killed by a legion of your dead ex-girlfriends!" "Okay, everybody calm down," John soothed. "Let's not overreact and go blaming--" "Hey, look, your ex-wife!" "What?!!"

Grammar and Spelling fail: If your fic doesn't look beta'ed, we will call you on it, which will create an AWKWARD situation for both of us. Having a beta is a REQUIREMENT. Grammar, spelling, proper paragraph structure, etc... these are all REQUIREMENTS. You need to give your beta ample opportunity to go over your fic for mistakes and edits, so remember to factor that into your deadline. Don't have a beta? Check out this post!

Can I post it to my journal a few days early to show my friends? No. The first time you show your fic for this big bang must be on Debut Day, on this comm. Mods will handle the revealing details. There will be more posts on that to come. Once the Big Bang collection goes live on Oct 1, feel free to post your stuff wherever. Also, please remember that extensions for final fic and art submissions will not be granted. Please make sure your stories and art are submitted no later than September 26th. If you absolutely cannot make it, contact a mod immediately - either via email at thehetbigbang [at] gmail.com, or on the Page-A-Mod post, or PM

red_b_rackham or

traycer_. Lastly, remember if you need some to cry, scream, flail, yell triumphantly, encourage, cheerlead, etc, don't hesitate to check out the support comm and throw up some posts for each other!

YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!!

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[biayahlife]

Art Block

I’ve been suffering from an art block for a while. I know that I’ve posted some art on the instagram account but most of it is a little bit on the old side. I keep picking up the tablet to make new digital art, and I end up feeling restless, frustrated, and intimidated. I have a new floral bouquet that I started ages ago, and I inexplicably am unable to bring myself to work on it. Normally, I’d turn to acrylic painting if I can’t do digital and even that felt overwhelming. I’ve been chewing on this for a while, turning over my reluctance to make art in my brain again and again, trying to sort out why I feel uncomfortable creating at this moment. It’s not that I’ve lost my love of creating, not at all. Making things is comforting. That being said, I feel as if I’ve put a lot of undue pressure on myself to make things of a certain “standard.” Now keep in mind - no one else is asking me for perfection. No one else is expecting “better and better” things from me when it comes to art. I make things for me. I do enjoy getting praise for the things I create; it always feels good when someone recognizes the years of practice I’ve put into this skill. So given that no one else is putting pressure on me, why am I doing it to myself? 

I’ve felt like this for a while, as the last two pieces in each medium I’ve made came out absolutely lovely. If you look back at the instagram there is a rose digitally painted to look like it came from a renaissance work, looking like it’s dripping wax and, and it’s so perfect. The last acrylic painting(s) I made, the three canvases with the teal, came out so nicely. I had the square version as my phone background for a while because I liked it so much. So as you might realize, now when I make something new I’ve put a personal expectation that insists that I make this new thing better than the last. This has put a whole extra layer of blank canvas syndrome on top of my already intrusive thoughts of perfection. 

I have to admit, this is also on top of some things happening in my life at this moment that are adding some stress. Cinnamon still has a double eye infection that is making me wildly frustrated. She’s been suffering since late April, and despite having been to the veterinary ophthalmologist, both eyes are still goofy. In addition to her eyes, I found a new lump on her chest. She already has a lipoma on her side that’s benign, but the appearance of new lumps automatically makes my heart jump into my throat. She’s only 10, and I’m so surprised that this year has been so bad for her health-wise. Luckily, she hasn’t seemed particularly phased by most anything; it’s mostly me that’s upset about the whole thing.

Yesterday Miayah and I went to the craft store to find some fabric for a quilting project, and I remembered that I had paint in my purse from the last time we went to the crafting store. I’d found 4 stunning colors that I felt strongly about and then went and forgot about them. As we walked through the store, I got a little idea of what I could make, something simple and less structured than some of the more recent paintings I’ve done. It inspired me to pick up a new canvas. We have a lot of canvas already, and they’re mostly rectangular. My favorite shape is square. I nearly picked up a 36x36 canvas but ended up settling on 20x20.  Earlier in the day, Miayah had suggested that maybe I pick up a new hobby to break the art block, the logic being that maybe if I didn’t have anything to measure up to it would be easier and feel less stressful. We talked about taking up knitting or crochet specifically. She knows that I’ve always wanted to play with the giant yarn, the big ridiculous fluffy stuff that Miayah doesn’t usually use as it’s fairly cost prohibitive. I pushed back, not because I didn’t want to do it, but because my hands have some issues with small motor movements and I’m uncertain that I’d be able to do it for an extended period of time. Her suggestion was a good one tho - try something different so there’s nothing to measure up to.

Today, I sat down with the colors and turned my brain off. I just started painting, and it turned into something completely different than I’d intended to make. Something more complicated, a new style that I’d never tried, and absolutely out of my comfort zone while still being familiar. I think it turned out really well and gives me permission to make something similar again in the future. I’m glad that I found a way to flex my art muscles and break the cycle of expecting perfection out of myself.

How are you challenging your demands for self perfection? Have you found a tried and true way to keep yourself motivated without stressing out about the quality of your endeavors? Let us know in the comments!