#sort of a painting practice. im just playing around with my brushes

[drayarts]

another one of this guy

[calciumdeficientt]

BUCKY HCS

BUCKY OH MY GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHD. IF BUCKY HAS NO FANS IM DEAD I LOVE THAT WHITE BOY. I cried while writing these. Idk what that says about me but it definitely says something.

BUCKY PASTEUR HCS

Starting off on a very strong foot, I’m gonna explain the ‘Bucky incident’ that I mentioned in my Thad hcs post (go read that btw). So basically the nerds were playing Star Wars on the steps outside the library, with those very sturdy, screen accurate lightsabers that all the cosplayers have, and poor Bucky, bless his little heart, got far too invested in the game, lunged forwards with his lightsaber, slipped on a piece of wet moss on the steps and fell. His lightsaber broke his fall and he sort of half-impaled himself on the tip of it. He didn’t break any skin or anything, but the sturdy PVC plastic broke two of his ribs and ruptured his appendix. Poor kid.

Head builder and painter of the G&G mini figures, in his free time you can usually find him underneath Dragon’s Wing in their little lair, with one of those magnifying headset things on, painting away. He has a keen eye for detail, and it really shows. He takes great care in studying his friends character sheets and making sure the paining is reflective of their personalities, even down to the bases. He’s got great technique, from dry-brushing for shading, to colour theory and palette matching, down to hand sculpting pieces when official G&G merchandise doesn’t suffice. Sometimes he goes upstairs to get guidance from Zack but nine times out of ten its his own handiwork.

Very happy go lucky despite being beaten within an inch of his life every day. That insane amount of bullying is enough to make anyone a nihilist, but I think Bucky always finds a way to put a positive spin on everything and. That is just… so commendable. He’s a stronger man than I I’ll tell you that. He’s such a sweet kid, how could you want to pick on him when Earnest is RIGHT THERE.

Speaking of Earnest, he really really hated the whole concept of the Paparazzi mission, especially publicly showing those indecent images of Mandy. He couldn’t even fathom the idea of showing the small ones off as blackmail. He hates the jocks just as much as the next nerd, and the way Mandy treats Beatrice isn’t exactly tasteful, but he’s emotionally mature enough to know that not only was plastering those posters all over town fucking creepy, it was also a CRIME.

Does super well in Hattrick’s math class but absolutely DESPISES his way of teaching it. Hattrick has a very black and white view of maths. It’s either right or wrong, and the only way to solve problems is it do it is his way, any other solution is blatantly wrong. Bucky thinks it’s such a boring and narrow way to look at a subject that’s just bursting with possibilities. In his free time he researches pure mathematics, he thinks its such a wonderful show of the fact that maths isn’t just about practical application, but the beauty of figuring out the logical consequences of basic mathematic principles when applied to abstract objects. He finds it so wonderfully interesting.

He loves his granny so much dude (I may or may not be sobbing over this right now he’s such a fucking cutie patootie.) he goes over to her house on the weekends and has tea. She doesn’t understand half of what her grandson says but she’s happy to know that he’s growing up into a nice polite young man, and is doing well at school. He’s also kind enough to help her around the house with all the chores she has trouble doing during the week. Taking her trash out, cleaning her kitchen surfaces and vacuuming up. He’s her helpful little chipmunk, even if he’s nowhere near as chubby as he used to be when he was a baby.

[zenosanalytic]

Paintbrush, PlasGlue, and Holy Clippers: Sparse Marns: Part VII: Basing

The End!SO CLOSE to The End!! All that's left is to do SOMETHING with their bases and then varnish the minis to protect the paintjob!

Ok so TECHNICALLY, you really don't have to do anything to the base.

I mean I've never really been in the gaming part of the fandom as I said at the start, I only ever played by myself or with my sibs, so maybe some ppl would hassle you for leaving them with just your basic black+primer bases, but really: Who Cares? So What! If you didn't want to do anything with the bases you could just leave them as is, and if you wanted to do SOMETHING but not anything crazy, you could just paint them a uniform color: black, or grey, or a nice terrainy green or brown. Allot of folks do basically this:, painting the sides of the base brown and the tops green. Most mini-hobby companies also make "basing pastes" and terrain-paints meant to simulate particular terrain environments which you can apply with a brush and maybe schnazz up with a few licks of paint once they dry.

BUT! The point of all this was for me to practice skills, old and new, so I decided to do some flocking. "Flocking" just means "gluing terrain-like Stuff to your mini bases". SO! I went to the gamestore and bought some Army Painter flocking materials

Lots of folks call Basing Glue "PVA Glue", which is basic wood glue or Elmers to most USians, so Im assuming that's what that is: it certainly looks, smells, feels, and behaves like it. I used the lid from one of my water jars to hold the glue, and This Brush

to apply it.

The flock itself is some Paver's fill I had lying around, plus Army Painter's Brown Battlefield(a sort of gritty rubble-sand), Green Field, and Battlefield Rocks, which I found those tweezers I didn't like much from assembly to be PERFECT for manipulating, placing, and holding secure. The shrubbery is Army Painter's Highland Tufts which I LOVE! I LOVE THEIR TUFTS SOMUCH!! Seriously after I got done with the basing I immediately went out and bought, like, 3 more packs of different varieties. The Flocks cost ~$15 total and the glue was, I think, another 5 or so, so it was about 20 bucks. The Paver fill didn't really do a super great job which was unfortunate, but now I know sand isn't a great flocking material(at least: not how I used it. I'll get to that later).

Working one base at a time, I brushed the glue on, held it at a tilt, then sprinkled the gravel and sand down it, adjusting and turning to til I was satisfied with the coverage. Then I let it sit for 30 minutes to dry, held it vertical and gently tapped to knock loose any excess, and did that again with the grass, only applying it in patches where I thought grass would Look Neat, letting it dry for another 30 minutes. Here's how that looked

Swag!

Then I applied glue to the bottom of the rocks and stuck those wherever I thought a rock should live on the bases, letting dry for another 30 minutes, then did the same with the BEAUTIFUL Tufts My Beloveds uwu Here's how they looked after all that!

I love how this looks!

Unfortunately, the brown battlefield and green field flocking doesn't stay on so well X| This may be my fault: I might have not used enough glue. But, I decided to go looking for a way to lock it down and found some videos about "sealing" your flock to keep it from doing that, and decided to try covering the flock with a layer of VERY watered-down glue, to hold it in place, then decided to paint the wee skull on Sarge's helmet white, to stand out more. Here's how that looks

Oh: and once the flocking was dry, I painted the rim of each base in Mournfang Brown with a #2 brush, taking the time to fill in any empty spaces on the edge. I think it's fine, but it's definitely less charismatic than with the grass standing up all willy-nilly. When I went to get the tufts last time, I saw they also sold spray cans of "Terrain Sealer". Now, I KNOW this is for actual terrain pieces you build and paint, and for sealing gameboards you might create, but I figure that, with sufficient distance, it'd probably work well at sealing base-flock, too.

In general I think the flock-experiment went well, but I think I probably made a few mistakes in it. Next time I'll fully paint the bases in a ground-color before applying any flock, and I'll use a thicker layer of glue and see if that changes the stickability. Another option is to use the flock purely for texture and paint over it once it's dry. It's allot more work, and it requires prepping the basing substrate before you attach the minis and some VERY careful painting of said substrate at the finish, but most of the painting tutorials I've been watching lately do something like this, often using cheaply or freely available materials like sand, pebbles, and chopped up Ephemera instead of branded flocks. I could also use branded basing-pastes which, again, allot of video I watched prepping for this used. I'd like to give all those options a go sometime in the future just to see how it works out, though I worry about weight; one benefit of the Army Painter flocking is that it's pretty light and doesn't really impact the handling of the mini.

All that's left now is applying the varnish, going over my thoughts on the project, what I think I need to work on, and discussing my next one! Seeya then ^v^ ^v^

[shatouto]

YOUR BABY VADER IS SO GOOD I NEED TO GIVE HIM ALL THE HUGS. please tell me he gets like. a weighted blanket or soft clothes. or! or! or! anakin and obi-wan go to the market because nobody knows that anakin was vader, and anakin gets some nice clothes in pretty colors and theyre very soft and he gets some ingredients for cooking and droid parts to play with and everything is nice and good for him

GOSH thank you!!! aww i love that idea sO MUCH just reading your prompt makes me feel warm fuzzy inside. im not sure which baby vader you’re referring to (because there are so many of them in my wips and i love it) but i’ll assume this is the au ive been writing with @obiwanobi. so pls enjoy this near 2k of tooth-rotting fluff; i took some liberties

who likes sweet things

The clinic smells like bacta, as clinics do. But instead of sterile durasteel walls, the floors are carpeted and the walls are painted and the windows are curtained and everything is multicolored and joyful. Across from Anakin sits a healer - a kindly woman, very small in stature, with large, gentle eyes, wispy hair and pointed ears. She chats happily with Obi-Wan while working in tandem with the medical droid to secure the prosthetic to Anakin’s elbow.

“...disheartening, isn’t it?” She chirps, her three-fingered hands deftly fastening bolts around the cap and manipulating the droid to screw down the simple plating. “I can’t count the number of innocent civilians who have come here to fit a new limb. Just last week, I constructed an entire exoskeleton for this young lady. Poor girl, so young.”

“That is so good of you. I am glad for the young lady to find you. She came to the right place.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Those of us who have some sense all know Healer Saada’s prostheses are of the highest quality in all of Coruscant.”

“Ah, young man. Flattery gets you nowhere. Have you learned nothing as a youngling?” Saada shakes her head at the Jedi, then turns her great eyes to Anakin, ears perking. “And you. You’re a rather quiet boy, aren’t you?”

Anakin presses his lips into a tight, blanched line. This woman may not be a Jedi any longer, but she is not Force-blind. He glances to Obi-Wan, breaths bated.

Obi-Wan rests a hand on his shoulder. “He’s quite shy, Healer Saada. Please do not worry.”

“Oh, poor thing.” The healer hops onto a moving droid. It rolls towards the counter, where she sorts out some bottles while asking, seemingly in an absent-minded manner, “Where did he come from?”

Anakin catches his gaze the moment Obi-Wan looks at him. Obi-Wan parts his lips, as if ready to lie.

“Tatooine,” Anakin mutters.

Astonishment freezes across Obi-Wan’s face, and Anakin turns away. The admission isn’t for her, though he supposes he doesn’t mind her knowing. She’s just a person. She doesn’t even know his name, or what he has done, or what the dead Sith Lord has made Anakin do to earn his demise. Obi-Wan does.

“So far away!” the healer comments lightly, turning around with a soft smile. “What a great trip you must have made.”

“Indeed he did. He lives here now,” Obi-Wan clarifies. Anakin opens his hand, and the healer places a stretchy ball in it. She instructs him to practice squeezing it to get used to the new artificial limb, before sending them off.

They exit the clinic and out under a vast starlit sky. Gentle winds whirl overhead as they climb into their speeder, heading for the usual park where Anakin takes his walk. The night has gotten cold, yet the darkness is unusually diluted. As they pass by downtown, music wafts up alongside the scent of butter and frying oil. Anakin looks down to see a sea of lights over a town square, and colorful awnings draped over kiosks of all sorts. There seem to be many people there, eating, laughing, hand in hand. He eyes them closely, fingers tightening on the side door of the speeder.

“It’s a celebration, Anakin,” Obi-Wan supplies, as they come to a stoplight. Anakin turns around, and his heartbeat ratchets up when Obi-Wan reaches over to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

“What are they celebrating?”

“Harvest season. It’s an old tradition, I’ll give you that. Coruscant barely has a greenhouse on it, let alone agricultural land.” Obi-Wan chuckles, then quiets down into a thoughtful smile. “Though I suppose the election result is as good of an occasion to celebrate as any.”

“Election?” Anakin asks, just as they pass by a great billboard with the face of a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman in a night-purple cape. The speeder is going slow enough for him to decipher the words written beneath it. Obi-Wan keeps saying he’s a fast learner, so he tries to read at every turn. “Chancellor… A-Ame…” He frowns. “Amidala?”

“Very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle at him for a second before returning to the path ahead. “Padmé Amidala is the new Chancellor now. It was a rather close call. She is well-loved by many people, but not quite so in the Senate.”

Half of those words mean almost nothing to Anakin. “Why?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums. “One could say the Senate hasn’t been loving its people so much, in a while.”

Obi-Wan grows pensive, as he oft does. The faint, warm light from below and the cool starlight from beyond color him in an otherworldly tint. His profile is startlingly delicate, from the slope of his nose to the soft fluff of his whiskers and beard. Even the flutter of his lashes is graceful. Then Anakin remembers he shouldn’t stare. His eyes strays towards the bright lights and jovial music beneath.

“...But I am hardly brave enough for politics,” Obi-Wan muses, after a stretch of silence. When he looks Anakin’s way it is with some tiredness in his small smile. “Say, Anakin. How would you like to stop by the night market, for a change?”

They lower their altitude as soon as Anakin nods his agreement. Obi-Wan parks their speeder, draws up Anakin’s hood, and takes his right hand. Anakin’s synthetic nerves light up, even though it’s only enough transmission for him to feel touch and not warmth, it being a very standard model of prosthetic. His face warms up under the hood of his cloak. He’s glad Obi-Wan doesn’t notice.

They let themselves be carried by the stream of the crowd, of parents jogging after excitable children toddling about with sweetmeats in their hands, sugar on their cheeks; of young couples, one’s arm around the other’s waist, sharing bites of fluffy sweet bread or sips of mulled wine. Light shines golden and amber through bottles of syrup and jars of honey, glitters on the crystal sugar and drizzled glaze on heaps of candies in open boxes. The smell is divine whenever they pass by a warm stall with steam bannering overhead.

Anakin shivers lightly, even though the crowd blocks most of the winds. Obi-Wan tugs at his hand. “Let’s get you something warm.”

He follows Obi-Wan. A paper cup is pressed into his hand, ample and warm against his skin. The drink smells and tastes sweet with a note of toasted bitterness, the texture creamy and rich on his tongue. There are floating white chunks of some sort of confectionery in there.

“What’s this?”

“Hot chocolate.” Obi-Wan raises his identical cup and touches it to Anakin’s. “Do you like it?”

”Yes,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan’s smile warms his belly more than any hot drink.

They continue on their path, still a straight line from one end of the market to another. Anakin’s wide eyes travel from stand to stand: here a string of patchwork puppets, there a counter of carved wooden figures; and perfume vials, colorful figures (“It’s artisan soap, Anakin”), bouquets of everlasting tissue flowers tied in silk ribbons. There are clothes: soft robes in various colors, touted as “warm in winter and breezy in summer,” per the merchants; tunics with blossoming patterns embroidered at the collars or sleeve hems. There are kiosks of datatapes, illustrated by sparkling holograms of a High Republic castle, or a great speeder model, or even some holodrama character whose name Anakin can’t remember.

And then a booth takes his breath away. Glimmering under the light are shelves after shelves of mini household droids, custom-made transmitters, and a variety of artfully wired core processors. Replacement parts bathe in the blue glow of holograms depicting the corresponding droid models; and below all of this is a row of toolboxes of gleaming silver and shiny ivory, even iridescent inlays of mother-of-pearl. The booth seems to be one of a kind in the vast entirety of the market.

Anakin stands, transfixed. His fingers itch, and one of the tools begins to quiver and lift into the air, unbeknownst to the seller who has his back to it. He wants it. The thing will be his.

“Anakin? Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s hushed voice rustles by his ear, jolting him back to his senses.

The tool drops down with a small clang, barely audible in the noises of the festivity. Fear bursts coldly in Anakin’s chest - he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, his Master would be very unhappy if he found out his young foolish apprentice had tried to waste his time playing with droids again. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, bowing his head, even as Obi-Wan squeezes his hand.

“Do you want that?” Obi-Wan asks, softly.

Anakin peeks up. The empty paper cup is still slightly warm in his hand, and he crushes it absentmindedly, tightening and loosening his fingers just to have something to do. “I, uh…”

Obi-Wan’s hand covers his own, gently prying the crushed paper cup out from the curl of his fingers. “I would love to get it for you, if you want it. It’s the toolbox on the bottom shelf, second from the left, isn’t it?”

The light on Obi-Wan’s smile is a honeyed gold, pooling stars into his eyes, and Anakin is transfixed again, not quite by the tinkering booth this time. He looks down as his face warms and his heart still pounds hard, and slowly he nods.

—

They come back to Obi-Wan’s quarters with a small armful: a new set of robes in muted, ashen pink; a box of tools with carved handles that are probably more fancy than they need to be, but still practical enough; a new array of spices and condiments; and a great tin of “absolutely decadent powder for drinking chocolate, Anakin, I can’t believe I let you persuade me into buying this.”

“You are the one who likes sweet things,” Anakin counters, arranging the new addition into their pantry. Obi-Wan laughs aloud by his side.

“Now how could you possibly know that?”

“I cook. I know that.” Anakin shrugs, and admits, “...and Ahsoka said so.”

Obi-Wan’s brows shoot up. He’s quiet for a few seconds, but the wide smile that follows only seems all the more brighter for it. “Best friends now, aren’t you?”

“No,” Anakin huffs and closes the pantry door. He doesn’t say more. Ahsoka gave him her old voicebook plug-in and lent him her comics; in exchange, he would pack her this spicy meat stew whenever she needed to leave for some time. They struck a fair deal, is all.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say more, either. They settle on the couch, Anakin almost rushing to fish out the toolbox from its paper bag. Finally having two hands to work with again, he examines it with zeal. It’s a good set of tools, he knows it; he hasn’t been allowed to touch these things for years, but he still knows. It’s in his blood. He can still wire standard circuit boards for protocol droids (the slightly outdated type) with his eyes closed; can definitely assemble a cleaning-type mouse droid from scratch if he’s allowed to scavenge for parts. He smiles down at the lacquered handles and the durasteel glint, picking up and balancing each microscrew, each hexagonal wrench, each tiny plier.

“...I hope it was enjoyable for you,” Obi-Wan speaks up, all of a sudden.

Anakin turns to him, not bothering to wipe off his smile. “It was.” He chews on the inside of his cheeks. “I’ve never had so many things. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan studies him for a long moment, more intent than he ever did. By the look on his face, Anakin expects him to say many things, but he doesn’t. He just pats Anakin’s elbow, where the prosthetic is joined, and murmurs, “You’re welcome.” His eyes have a moist sheen to them, smiling though he is.

[carnelianns]

(Ikesen and Ikevamp) Sorry if this has been asked before. But how about an MC who went back to her own time only to find out she was pregnant. How would the boys reaxt if she comes back somehow a few years later but with a young child she says is theirs.

im sorry for keeping u waiting this long anon huhu,, i only did the vamps but, if my askbox allows, i’ll come back to do the sen boys too ! i didn’t have a specific gender for their children so jus imagine the lil rascal any way u want

Napoleon Bonaparte

When you come back through that door with a fascinated child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

He literally has no words when you smile gently, saying it’s his. Napoleon swallows the bump in his throat before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“I.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, nununche,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

As a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either. But he tries — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you catch them in a compromising position, usually when you see your child holding a foil with a goofy smile.

“Nunuche.. I can explain,” Napoleon says calmly when you first find the two of them — well, three; it seems Jean was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you — parading around the training room with the foils.

“Mamma, papa said he was the King! He teached me how to be King!” Your child exclaims, flailing the weapon around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“Well, you see, I meant emperor, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with the murderous intent he’s so used to fighting against on the battle field

Slowly kneeling down to meet your child’s eyes, you see him whispering something incoherent before the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the foil.

Then, as if counting down ‘3, 2, 1′, Napoleon immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“Napoleone di Buonaparte, get your ass back here right now!” You scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — Vive L’Empereur!” The two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. They’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

“That child is.. mine?” He asks, slightly jaw-slacked, pointing at the child that undeniably looks like him, if the identical beauty mark or violet eyes are anything to go by.

“Do you.. not want—”

“I never said that,” he instantly cuts you off, going over to kneel at the confused child. With a slight smile, in an attempt to hold his tears back, he manages, “So.. how was spending time with that clumsy mother of yours?”

Mozart doesn’t really know how to spend time with his child, though he’s clearly not opposed to carrying the little rascal around on his shoulders, or dragging the child clinging onto his leg around when stubbornness bites.

You often don’t know what he’s thinking whenever he spends time with your child, or the whole situation, but rest assured, he wouldn’t change it for the world, despite how he may look.

A clear example of this is when you once walked into the piano room only to see your little darling on top of the grand white piano itself, snoozing on top of a small comforter whilst your lover plays the soft tunes you’ve grown to love.

Shock holds you captive as you stare at the lovely sight, before finally trailing off, “Mozart..”

Without so much as glancing at you, he replies, voice hushed in a soft tone you don’t hear so often. The blissful smile on his face speaks thousands of words.

“I thought you were the only one foolish enough to let your guard down in front of me… It seems I was wrong.”

Leonardo da Vinci

He had an inkling the moment he saw the child sporting caramel eyes so similar to his own, tawny gaze regarding the large mansion with wonder.

And when you did reveal that the child is actually his, he only pulled you close to his chest, hoisting the little one up with his other arm.

“Papa has a lot of time to make up to you, doesn’t he?”

Leonardo is good with children, if it isn’t obvious. Not in your conventional dad way wherein he brings the child to school — in fact, he probably fell asleep in the hallway just when the two were about to leave — but he's awfully good at keeping his child entertained.

Running around the mansions, creating new inventions, learning a new language — sometimes, you have to remind yourself that this child’s father is literally Leonardo da Vinci.

A position you often see them in, however, is snoozing on the floor, probably near the library, your child a small ball curled into Leonardo’s arms and head in the crook of his neck.

“Again? Really?” You can only huff, though that doesn’t stop the small smile from spreading on your face as you brush the locks of hair out of your lover’s face.

“Cara mia,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping your wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Arthur Conan Doyle

Arthur tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

He starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his, and he’ll have to be comforted by yours and your child’s tiny arms before he even plans to stop.

“Ah, crying like that on our first meeting… Don’t you think your fath — I’m a bit embarrassing?” He asks, sniffling as he musters a smile.

Your child giggles, blue eyes crinkling. “No! Mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

He has to stop himself from sobbing again.

Arthur wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, and every single day is one you’d find the two of them either in town or messing about at home.

If not, then they’re probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what. The day you peek in to see what exactly they were up to was a blessed day.

Maneuvering yourself in a way that lets you see through the tiny crack of the open door, your jaw drops at the adorable sight of your child in a tiny deerstalker and trench coat far too big for his form, Arthur nodding with a serious look on his face.

“So, Watson, do you think crepes make mummy happier?” Your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up — one you’re sure is from Leonardo — like a mic in front of Arthur’s face.

He strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “Seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, I deduce they do, Sherlock.”

“Good dedoo – deduck – deduction, Watson! I thought so too.”

Your heart literally melts. The two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. Dorks. 

Vincent van Gogh

When you meet those familiar, cerulean eyes from your place in front of the door, they’re already glossy in seconds, a flurry of emotions clear on Vincent’s face, though his smile says it all.

“Is it too much to say I’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

Vincent would be practically wallowing in regret that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, leading him to do any and everything that will cause his child to smile. In simpler terms, he’s basically wrapped around the little one’s finger.

He’s so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, and there’s an immediate smile on his face when he so much as thinks about the little blondie.

He literally makes the other residents question whether or not they want a child too.

Their bonding time is painting and, more often than not, it ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“I’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” Vincent’s soft voice only makes you sigh in relaxation as he massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some blue paint off your child.

“It’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and looking up into his bright eyes.

Your lips were just about to meet, when —

“Mam, I’m not clean yet!”

You groan, Vincent only laughing as you meet the crossed arms of your child pouting child.

“Don’t give your mammie too much of a hard time, okay?” He never forgets to take care of you above all, of course.

Theodorus van Gogh

When he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, Theo has to literally disappear to cool his head off because he’s angry.

Not at you, no, never, but at himself. That he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Hon — Schatje,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy hair and staring at you with eyes that practically bleed insecurity, his voice breaking. “How am I supposed to take care of a child when I couldn’t even take care of you?”

After many reassuring words and gentle touches, Theo’s finally okay, holding up and scrutinising your child much like how he does a painting. He’s, well, awkward.

Theo is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

He’s also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks that much either, so out of the residents, he’d be one of the better fathers.

“Nee.” “Papje, pleaaase?” “No. Non. Nee.”

Your lover’s fixed refusal causes you to peek your head into a lovely picture. Theo was holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child with his puppy dog eyes in full view.

“Je mama said no chocolate, right?” Your heart warms when you realise he remembered your scoldings, though you can’t help but to feel bad for your whining baby.

“Theo,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “How about you give the little baby some chocolate and we all enjoy some pancakes, yeah?”

The way both their eyes shine almost identically is adorable.

Dazai Osamu

When you showed up again with the child in hand, one he knows is his, his first thought, first wish, is that for that tiny thing to not be his. Because no one knows how harsh this world is more than the man who wished to end it all, so much more than once.

But Dazai makes up his mind when he sees you and your — his child staring up at him with those eyes that look so much like your own. He makes up his mind, despite his own continuous suffering, that he’ll never let this child go through what he had to.

“Was I staring too much?” He smiles, slightly sad and, well, empty. “I suppose it’s because the little one looks far too much like you.” Bright. Too bright for me.

As a father, he’s surprisingly really good with children? He quite enjoys seeing your child smile more than anything, and one way he knows how to do so is by perching the little one on his shoulders, running around the mansion as his hands intertwine with small, tiny fingers.

You don’t know whether to yell at him and his close-eyed grin, or simply laugh at the resonating giggles of your child. Probably both as you chase the two down the halls.

Dazai often zones out whenever he’s playing with your child, a look you can only describe as pure bliss on those handsome features of his. As you stare up at him, confusion clear on your features, you ask, “Hey, Dazai, why do you.. Zone out so much? Whenever you’re with, you know,” you motion to the snoozing one in between the both of you.

“Why do I zone out, you ask?” He gives you a smile, a real one this time, and gently pokes at the little ones cheeks. “I think.. I’ve found a wonderful reason to live, is all.”

Isaac Newton

“That’s… mine??” “That?” “... It?” “It?” “The.. child?”

Isaac is very flustered, for lack of better terms. He can barely manage the children he and Napoleon go see intermittently, but his own child? Lord, help him.

He gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the mansion because even then, he isn’t spared by Arthur and Dazai’s teasing remarks — in fact, it only seems to have gotten worse.

Isaac is surprisingly good at getting your rascal child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his unsaid rambles.

“And did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing Uncle Dazai and Uncle Arthur?”

Your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and toothy grin showing. “Daddy also said, ‘Get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

Your accusatory gaze turns towards Isaac, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead.

“I-In my defense, they were—”

“One more time, Isaac, and I’m changing this baby’s legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love so much.”

Gaping, his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He is now a grumbling mess when the two are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around with a stick in hand can be counted as an upgrade.

Jean d’Arc

When you walk through that door once more, nervously telling your lover that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction — after all, Jean is, despite his vampiric aging, barely an adult himself.

His jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child with his inky locks, and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“Papa?” Your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked Jean as you hold your breath.

He stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “Yes, little one?”

He’s extremely unaccustomed to this whole parent thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

Although he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well, you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is.

Jean, well, looks ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

He utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin.

“Is this.. how it’s like to be happy?”

William Shakespeare

When Shakespeare wakes up to the news that you are, in fact, back at the mansion with a little surprise, he’s already there in no time.

He didn’t expect the little surprise to be a little child that’s practically an identical copy of him. But he’s always been more of a shoot first, ask questions later type of guy, so he immediately whisks you off to his manor, much to the exasperation of the residents who were surprisingly enjoying their time with the little Shakespeare lookalike.

Except he doesn’t really need to ask questions, because he’s already figured everything out through your soft, slightly nervous gaze, and your lovely little mannerisms.

“Alas, it seems the Heavens were kind enough to grant my wish,” he says as he stares at your child, only smiling to meet your confused gaze. “For I only wished you weren’t too lonely without my presence.”

William is always with his child, whatever the circumstances. Though he quite enjoys showing off his child, he’s also keen on spending his every waking second with the little tyke because he knows how it feels like to grow up lonely, and he wouldn't bestow that upon his own little one.

“Darling, it appears I has’t gotten myself into a slight predicament.”

If you could, you would have snapped a picture of your smiling lover practically itching to get up, yet unable to do so due to the sleeping child in his lap.

“And how did you get yourself into this predicament, my love?” You tease, your own smile on your face. He has a habit of reading his writings aloud, and it seems the little one fell asleep to William’s gentle voice.

“My works seem to be but a mere bedtime story to this little one,” he motions to the child, his smile softening. “I wonder why it does not dishearten me.”

Comte de Saint-Germain

“I was hoping you’d be back, ma chérie.” His perfunctory smile betrays the inner flurry of emotions inside him as he glances towards the child. “With a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, and the surprise outlining his normally composed face is something you’d forever save in your mind.

Comte is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

Many times have you asked Sebastian the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

Then, to finally put a stop to it all, you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

Placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. After explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

Unsurprisingly for you, your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“And what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” He asks, honest-to-god confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s form.

You smile softly, “Isn’t it obvious, silly? The little rascal loves you more than anything.”

His eyes are suspiciously glossy before he laughs it off, preparing for yet another shopping spree — you regret everything.

Sebastian

He only gives you a knowing smile when you pass through the door with a young child gripping your hand.

“So.. this is the little one, is it?” He asks, tone soft as he walks towards you, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and meeting eyes with his child. “I’m a strict father, mind you.”

“Sebastian!” “I was joking. Slightly.”

Despite being a father, Sebastian is as strict and precise as ever around the mansion, rarely having to leave either his work or his family unattended due to his impeccable time management skills.

And if he struggles with both, well, he just has to merge them into one task, doesn’t he? Many are the times wherein the residents catch Sebastian working, his little runt on his tail or on his hip.

“They’re at it again, you know,” Mozart says in passing, only causing you to groan.

“Sebastian! How many times have I told you not in the kitchen?” You exclaim, walking into the kitchen to find your lover and your child tackling yet another chore together.

It seemed to be baking this time, if the flour on both of their faces says anything.

“Mama!” Your child exclaims with powdered hands as Sebastian says blankly, “We’re doing chores.”

You merely roll your eyes, sighing as you walk out the room. Your apology comes later when a sloppy cupcake makes its way into your view.

Your eyes move up to your proud looking child, hair obviously patted down in an attempt to look presentable while your lover sports a tiny grin on his own face.

“We made this for you, mom! Papa said he wanted to make you reaaaally happy.”

Sebastian’s head instantly snaps down, eyes narrowing, “Hey.”

You can only laugh at your two babies, taking a bite of the surprisingly good and sweeter than an average cupcake.

[al3x1ss]

Just a Friend to You

Chapter 5: Sports

“Y/N! COME GIVE MAMA A SMOOCHIE SMOOCH!”

Y/N pushes open the door with a small duffle bag hanging from her right shoulder to see Kaori and Yukie running at her. Yukie jumps on her, hugging her tightly while Kaori hugs her side, squeezing her stomach.

“You guys act like you didn’t see me yesterday.” Y/N says, rolling her eyes but smiling.

“IT FEELS LIKE WE HAVEN’T!”

“PLEASE BECOME MANAGER AGAIN WE ARE SUFFERING!”

At this point, hearing their two managers crying, the boys stop what they were doing, turning to see the “reunion” between the three girls, seeing Y/N smushed between Yukie and Kaori with a bored look on her face.

“Ya know it never gets boring to see them like that.”

Akaashi’s eyes lift to turn towards Bokuto, seeing him still looking ahead at the three. Akaashi turns his head back, once again looking at the girls. He sees Y/N trying to shove them off, laughing in his head but only a small smile appears on the outside.

“Apparently she was practicing really late last night, know anything about that?” Akaashi turns once again to see Bokuto look at him. Looking back at Y/N he remembers last night and all that occurred, slightly praying that his cheeks and ears don’t give any sort of reaction.

“No, why do you ask?”

“Just that she would’ve told you,” Bokuto shrugged, “while I’m your best friend, she’s your BESTEST friend!” Bokuto smiles at Akaashi, Akaashi giving him back a small smile, both boys turning back to see the girls finally off of Y/N’s body.

“Huh, yeah.”

Y/N places her bag by the wall, then walked towards to the bench so see the coach smiling at her.

“Hello again, L/N.”

“Hey coach, so, how are you guys surviving without me?”

“Ugh,” he puts a hand over his heart, acting in pain, “we’re suffering.” Y/N lets out a laugh, a chuckle following from the coaches mouth.

“In all seriousness, they’re doing very well. I’m surprised Bokuto is taking on the captain role so well, along with Akaashi as his right hand man. But, Akaashi is the one to get Bokuto out of his emo mode the quickest.” Coach says, Y/N nodding along, turning to see the boys practicing again doing spiking drills. Bokuto spiked a ball, it hitting the court then flying towards Yukie.

“eY WATCH IT”

“IM SOOOOOORRY YUKIEE”

Kaori started giggling, grabbing the ball and tossing it to Y/N.

“Y/N”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO I THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE RESTING” Y/N whined, stomping her feet like a 3 year old.

“OH BOO HOO SERVING DRILLS, NOW” Kaori said, coming to drag her by the wrist.

“I DONT WANNA” Y/N says, pulling back while everyone watches this unfold. She can hear Konoha basically wheezing at this point, and Yukie smacking something or someone whilst laughing.

Kaori let’s go of Y/N, letting her fall to the ground. She crosses arms and legs, still pouting, when she feels two hands lift her by the armpit.

“Come come.” Y/N struggles, Akaashi basically carrying her like a rag doll, Haruki recording the whole thing while Yamato laid on the gym floor.

Akaashi makes his way to the other side of the court, Y/N still wiggling. He plops her down, her arms crossed and her eyes staring up at him. He looks down at her with a smile, grabbing a stray ball and handing it to her. Y/N let’s out a sigh, her lips finally breaking into a small smile when Akaashi pats her head.

“JESUS AKAASHI WE GET IT WE’RE SINGLE GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKIN SECOND YEAR HAVING A GIRLFRIEND BEFORE I DO!” The pair turns to see Yamato still on the floor.

Y/N and Akaashi separate, a blush basically tap dancing on their faces with how red it was. Akaashi rubs the back of his neck and goes back to his side of the court. Y/N sighs, holding the ball in her left hand.

“You get 5 serves. If you miss any, you’re doing a flying lap. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The boys missed two of the five serves, Bokuto even screaming at one of them, but the boys just grumbled, sucking it up and doing their punishment. Kaori walked up to Y/N with Yukie, placing her arm around the other two girls.

“It’s insane how they still respect you, despite being younger than most of them.”

“You just gotta work them into shape, but they respect you two as well.” Y/N says, leaning her head onto Kaori’s hand.

“I honestly think Y/N puts the fear of god into them since they know she hits as hard as some of them can.” Yukie says, letting out a chuckle.

“Speaking of, what was that with Akaashi?” Y/N turns to the girls quickly, both of them now standing next to eachother smirking, their eyebrows constantly raising.

“THAT was him treating me like a 5 year old.”

“THAT was him basically confessing to you.”

“I-“

Y/N starts to cough, becoming red once again, Yukie and Kaori busting out laughing at the girl. Yukie sighs, grabbing the other girls hand and beginning to walk towards the bench with them.

“You just gotta do it when the time is right, although please sooner than later this is hurting my heart.” Y/N shakes her head, slightly giggling. She stands, signaling that she’s going to go refill her bottle.

As she waits for the bottle to fill, her phone dings.

Practice ended after another hour, the boys now cleaning up. Y/N sat with some chips as coach approached her once again.

“So, how’s your team coming along?”

“Well, their captain is a bitch, but they are confident that they’ll win tomorrow.” Y/N says, smiling up at him at he laughs.

“Maybe I’ll let off practice, let them see how they can actually play if they don’t fool around.” He says, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

“Oh? I guess I never told you about us using the volleyball net as a race line-“

“yOu DID WHAT-“

After a brief scolding from coach, the boys came over, seeing that their old manager definitely still had a knack for giving their coach a headache.

“Practice tomorrow will be cancelled, however, I do suggest you going to see the girls game. Not only should we support them as much as they support us, but also I do want to see this one as a captain. I’m sure the now 2nd and 3rd years do as well.” The boys nodded along with what coach was saying, then turned to face you.

“Y/N!! Are you a super cool captain like me?”

“No.”

“BAHSHFBF” Bokuto’s hair fell while Kaori laughed, Yukie also laughing but trying to cheer up Bokuto by patting his back.

“I’m not a great captain, I do still fall on my ass, but we both are good captains, Bokuto,” Y/N says, walking up to him and holding out her hand, “No matter how many times we fail.”

Bokuto grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a hug, tears starting to form.

“AWWE Y/NNNNN”

“Since when the fuck were you so inspiring?”

“Yeah, usually you’d yell at us or tell yourself to “pick your ass off up the ground and cry about it at therapy.”

“HEY THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

“4 times actually.”

“I- COACH!”

Y/N and Konoha kept bickering, ending up with Konoha in a headlock and Y/N being pried off by Yamato and Akaashi. Y/N huffed, grabbing her bag along with everyone else, and locking up.

As she saw groups of people beginning to leave, she saw Keiji approach her.

“Let me walk you home today?”

“KEJEHTBT”

Y/N heard a squeal, turning to see Kaori repeatedly slapping Yukie’s arm in excitement, sighing, she turned back to face Akaashi with a smile on her face.

“Fine, but my feet hurt so you’re either taking my bag or we walk slow.”

“Or.”

“Or? What do you mean or-“

Akaashi bent over slightly, putting his bag on the ground. Y/N stared at him for a while, him obviously signaling for her to climb onto his back.

“N/N I swear to god you’re gonna give me scoliosis hurry the hell up”

Y/N climbed on, wrapping her legs around his middle and arms around his neck. He had his bag and hers draped across his shoulders as she laid her head on his back.

“Comfy?”

“Yessir, indeed!”

The two kept up chat whenever something came to mind, even showing him the picture Kaori managed to get of you guys while beginning your walk home. After a while, Y/N climbs off his back, only 5 minutes away from her house.

“Akaashi?”

“Yes N/N?” She sighs, brushing hair out of her eyes. While she debated on confessing tonight, a lot of signs were saying that it wasn’t the right time. Y/N could be anywhere with Keiji and it would be magical, but if he liked her back, she’d want it to be memorable for him as well.

“Are you gonna come to the game?”

“Of course, I want to see you spike some poor girls head again.”

“Kaaasshiiii” Y/N whined, swinging his hand in frustration.

“In all seriousness, it would be cool to see you kick someone else’s ass for once.” Y/N scoffed, giving Akaashi a light shove on his shoulder.

“That’s because you deserve it, asshole.” He scoffed back, placing a hand on his chest in offense.

“I’m the asshole?”

“Mhm!”

“Nu-uh!”

“Ya-huh!”

This went on for 3 full minutes. Bystanders stared at the pair arguing like children, meanwhile they looked like they could be college students.

“IT WAS THE OTHER DAY AKAASHI.”

“OH SO WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO PAINT MYSELF GREEN? I AM NOT THE MATERIAL ✨C A S H M O N E Y ✨ Y/N.”

Y/N wheezed, smacking Akaashi’s arm as they walked into her driveway, now realizing how dark it was since they probably took twice as long. Y/N sighed, the last few giggles escaping her lips. She looked at Keiji who had a toothy smile on his face, him already looking at her.

“Thank you for walking me home, Keiji.”

“Anytime, N/N.”

Y/N sighed, turning to walk to her door.

“Y/N?”

This mf better not confess right now it was a really good time-

He lifted his arms, making grabby hands at her, Y/N’s head tilting in confusion. She makes her way back over to him, coming into close proximity. He wraps his arms around her waist, turning to stuff his face into her neck. Y/N tenses up, then relaxes, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What’s this for, Keij?” Y/N releases Akaashi, looking up at him. He turns, beginning to walk away, but turns back to face her.

“Cuz I’m a lonely bitch, Y/N. Jesus get your mind out of the gutter. Premarital hugging? Never.” Akaashi keeps a straight face, Y/N staring back at him to see who breaks first. However, they break at the same time, laughing loudly once again. After a few seconds, the lights on Y/N’s porch flickers 3 times, signaling its time for her to come in. As she goes to go up the stairs, she runs back to him a third time.

Y/N stands on her tippy toes, kissing Akaashi on the cheek, slowly sinking down.

“Thank you once again, Keiji.”

As she finally starts to go up the stairs, Y/N turns her head to face him once again, giving him a small wave which he returns.

She makes her way into the house, slipping off her shoes and running up to her room, falling backwards on her bed with a huge smile on her face.

“Heh, cute.”

Notes

Y/N likes Akaashi

This is not the first time Yukie has called herself mama Yes Y/N has called herself daddy

The girls attacking eachother was a usual occurrence

Bokuto DOES know that Akaashi was there with her, but just wanted to see what he would say

Coach would make Y/N do serving drills last year so that while she skipped her own practice, she was still practicing

Y/N thought the plural of goose was gooses, hence the GC name

This is not based on a true story please do not call me out I BEG 😀✊

Atsumu flirts with Y/N for fun, nothing serious

Everyone has pet names for Y/N, while Y/N just calls them “gooses” as a collective group

Osamu calls Y/N “doll” because the first movie they watched together was “Captain America: The First Avenger”

Osamu does NOT like Y/N

Y/N did not actually use the net as a race line

Akaashi is a VERY calm person around everyone and around Y/N, but once in a while Akaashi does get on the chaotic levels of Y/N, even if it just for a few minutes

Akaashi walked home with his hand on his cheek

Y/N squealed at 1am, remember Akaashi doing the grabby hands so he could get a hug

Y/N also realized that she had kissed Akaashi on the cheek as a moment of boldness Yes, she called the girls and Kuroo

Back to Masterlist

C. 4 <- C. 5 -> C. 6

Taglist: @winunk @kurushiisaboss @lexysclubhouse @haikyuu-appreciation-club @pumpkiethepie @mint-mai @writingfreakk @tendousfingertape5 @bbyouamazin @navymacaroons @helloalex80 @heavenini @tchalameme @foxxtrot-116 @kageyamasgirl @noya-sleftankle @mariachiii @rory-cakes @sailorstrawberi @iidanotlida @animeflower26 @anngelllla @kneekoteen @reina-de-tay

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[s-fellows-art]

Simplified tips on how to improve your art.

.putting under cut because its long but thats cause i explain these and not just list stuff. 

1)  Flip/mirror  your canvas when working. - it allows you see anatomy and other errors you may overlook. 

2) before uploading look at the image on a different screen or the next day. - this give you time away from it, and as tempting as it is to upload as soon as your done, if you wait  you will see stuff you can improve on and be able to look at it with “ fresh” eyes. 

3) Stop shading with black or grey scale colors- shading with inly these colors make the imAge look muddy, if you shade with a color that is a darker hue of the same color your adding shading to it one in the same tempters ( warm= R Y O cool = B G I V  on the Rainbow ) you get more vibrant art and you don’t muddy what your working on. 

4) Learn to grey scale BEFORE coloring as a draft p2- learning how to shade in black and white can help you identify lighting points and details. When digital painting simplifying something out to a grey scale can help you keep track of what your doing. 

5) Use the tools you have access too- References to learn anatomy , taking time to learn amniotomy will help you a lot in the long term, but doing everything off the top of your head your bond to get something wrong early on, or even later on in art.  Use the sharpen tool around highlights if your program offers it. It saves time. Also play with your filters and line art colors. These will ad detail to your work and takes less time. If you mess around with the brushes in your program and stuff before starting it will help you later on. Its not cheating professionals use it all the time. 

6) practice drawing random stuff- it teaches you the shapes and trains your hand ti make the strokes/motions needed for basically everything. Art studies can be very helpful. Even if it feels stupid drawing 500 eyes on a note pad, it helps. 

7) Simple is good, complex is chaos- over complex art is hard to look at because your not sure what to focus on so the areas you want the eye to go to is where you should focus your details rather then make every single little thing detailed. Another way to do this is to brighten the colors where you want the eye to go at first glance in an image, but make the other areas muted in color, or blurred slightly.  

8) Don’t be afraid to look up tutorials and take breaks if you get stuck - I personally only learned how to shade faces from watching makeup tutorials. And there is nothing shameful in not knowing how to do something and needing to look it up or ask, its how you learn you can just power you way through it all the time, and somethings your wasting your time if you do for something not worth it in the end run. Also the act if stepping back and away to go do something else is sometimes all you need, sometimes looking at the same file over and over again can be mentally exhausting. Take a break. Drink some water. Stretch your wrists. Look away from it for a while then come back. 

9) Stretch your wrists before working- save your self years if pain trust me. I regret not doing this. Also draw from your shoulder not your wrist unless detailing, less stress on your arm and more precision. 

10) Use different line thicknesses - i find using thicker lines for areas that touch the outer parts of your drawing or more important areas, and using thinner for detailing adds a bit of detail and quality to your work even if the line art isn’t clean. Inner face  parts (other then the top bracket of the eyes), lines between fingers, lines marking clothing folds, and things like that should be done in thinner lines then eyebrows and what not. 

Next two some will role your eyes at but honestly makes a huge difference, even if you got to force it at first. Its hard to break a bad habit.

11) don’t look for flaws in your work, look for what you like about it,- if your constantly pointing out what is wring with what you are doing your not gonna go any where, bare minimum go “ okay im not too happy about this, lets see how we can improve it” instead if “ this looks like garbage I hate it”. If you stay in the mentality of I don’t like this , your never gonna be happy with what your making or improve because subconsciously your telling you self you can’t. This slight change in mind set of trying to find at least one thing you like will make a big difference in the long run because slowly you will be moving towards finding a style your comfortable with and going from there, you will be finding things you

12) don’t compare you self to other artist- its one thing to want to take influence in your fave artist, its another to constantly out yourself down because your not like them. Everyone art started as shit. Everyone. We all were that crappy 1 year old can barely hold a pen person at one point. like learning how to read and write or ride a bike....  No one starts as a perfect artists, its something you learn, so comparing your self to people around you is not gonna help you improve and putting yourself down just because your not perfect yet. Even if its something as little as “im happy I finally finished this” is better then “I wish i was like _”. You are slowly moving towards a goal, some people just move quicker then others because they learn different techniques, instead if putting energy into hating everything you do why not try to learn how the people you like the art of got there by learning some techniques your self? 

13) Ignore the notes enjoy the journey-  Regardless , you making art is amazing in itself . Its something only you have made. There may be other things like it but its not like how you did. Your unique and honestly ignore the notes, if your constantly pushing yourself based off of numbers, your gonna burn your self out and give your self impossible expectations to try to complete. Everyone has different tasted and are not always gonna like what you do the same way, if at all, there is nothing wrong with what you made you simply just can’ please everyone and its not your job to. The notes are a bonus, not a goal, you don’t have to try to compete for them the only person you have to create for for is you. Do what ever the hell you want and if people like it, great, if they don’, then they like a different cup of tea then yours, don’s make it bad tea.  Edit 1 as i thought of more : also the reason your sketch looks better then your line art is because your line art is too neet. If you use difrent thicknesses in lines (thicker for outter areas and important areas) and thinner for areas with more movment (bottom crese of eyes or outline of area around puple inner part of mouth clothing inner parts or what ever u feelis needed) it will look better because it will show your brush strokes which is what makes your sketch look good. -You can also add a 3d effect woth the red and blue outlines on areas that are not the central focus of the peice. Blurring has the same sort of effect to where it forces the eye onto the clearer area if the photo and makes it more visually intresting. Having this effect everywhere however can make stuff hard to focus on and diffcult to look at so only keep it on non focus points (most common focus point is the face so wouldnt put it there) .

Idk how helpful these will be but they made a big diff in my progress over the past year. The last bunch made a significant difference for me, though it was really hard to force myself into that mentality. And i still skip doing some of these in occasion ill admit but i hope this helps none the less. 

[teddybeckham]

charles melton, cis male, he/him, silver hey have you seen TEDDY BECKHAM ? HE let me borrow his PAINT BRUSHES . oh, you know them! they’re 27 and they’ve been at Roy G. for THREE YEARS. They are known to be a total SCORPIO. no wonder they’ve picked up the nickname THE BLACK SHEEP ! i’m surprised you haven’t heard them blaring STACY’S MOM BY FOUNTAINS OF WAYNE all night. they remind me of PAINT SPLATTERED JEANS, A LONG TIRED SIGH AND GETTING HIGH AT 3 AM. anyway, let me know if you see them ! (rachell, 23, she/her, mt, n/a).

ok hello omg im rachell and this is my lil shit teddy who just needs love ok? i haven’t gotten to play him in awhile and i’m really excited to play this new kinda version of him here?? this whole thing maybe kind of all over the place cuz we’re kinda figuring it out as we go lol but yes pls love us, this whole post is a lot so i apologize im--

tw cancer, tw death, tw depression, tw alcoholism

teddy was born november 3rd, 1993, as an only child, and though a sweet and happy kid he had always struggled with school, being diagnosed with adhd dislexia at a pretty young age causing him to learn at a different pace than the rest of the kids at his class

tho this was pretty hard on him and caused him to grow frustrated at his assignments more often than not, his mom was always there with the patient and supportive smiles, ready to give a hand wherever she could 

things were ok with his dad for the most part the boy was just easily more attached his mother, it being as clear as day to anyone who knew the beckhams

it threw everyone in the small family for a loop when his mom was diagnosed with breast cancer by the time he was six, soon growing familiar with the visits to the hospital and seeing her in a way he never wished he’d have to

as the years went by and his mom now practically stayed in the hospital, the small boy was completely at a loss on how to cope, one day he had to put together a creative piece for school, and being completely fed up with everything, he just painted out everything he was feeling, not giving a shit on how it looked or what he was supposed to have done instead, completely caught off guard when his teacher absolutely loved it, saying she saw great potential in it and him, it being the first time he had actually felt good about smth in school

his mother passed away by the time he was 10, causing teddy to be a lot more closed off and withdrawn from his peers at school, growing frustrated a lot quicker, with art being the only thing that really kept him going as he even pushed his dad away as well, the pair never having been good at talking about their feelings

the death took a big toll on his dad as well, soon falling into a depression that costed him his job, at times not being fully capable of caring for teddy on his own, bringing in the boy’s aunt to help out when she could as he spiraled into borderline alcoholism....that is, until jasmine’s mother came along, slowly helping him come out of his dark place with each moment they spent together, supporting him through therapy and alcoholics anonymous 

teddy found it difficult to be as happy for him as his aunt was, considering how it felt as if his mom was somehow getting replaced, let alone the seemingly perfect young daughter this new woman in his dad’s life had along with her. his dad never really took his love and passion for art all that seriously to begin with, now he had someone else to compare his son to, despite the age gap between the two and he couldn’t really stand it, causing him to give the new people in their life a difficult time at the beginning of them all getting to know each other that was pretty difficult to shake

by the time jasmine’s and teddy’s parents officially got married, the boy was around a freshman/sophmore in high school, at this point warming up more to his new step mom, able to see what his dad saw in her and over all grateful for all that she’d done for him, tho his new step sibling was still smth to adjust to, teddy being too awkward and feeling too much like he was living in her shadow to open up too much, on top of their differences with her as pretty much the golden child and him still not caring much for school and more throwing himself in his art instead of really socializing or getting to know others

fast forward to now with the 2 siblings having been in florida for 3 years, living together and still struggling to understand each other while also getting on each other’s nerves in between. their family at this point is a real one in teddy’s eyes, despite how much he feels like the black sheep when they facetime. call jas his step sister and he’ll sock you. over all there’s sm love there despite how difficult it can be to admit out loud or in general really

about him

takes meds for his adhd

there is nothing that he loves more or is more passionate about than his art, it’s his escape and his way to let out his emotions he doesn’t know how to communicate otherwise

his and jasmine’s place is filled with wips that he’ll just start cuz he got inspo, was bored, or was stressed out

kind of hard for him to sit still and can be pretty anxious but usually puts up a hard exterior so it’s kinda hard to tell 

he is tired all the time, stays up too late to work on his art and relies on coffee to keep him going, someone stop him

is pretty hard to warm up to i wanna say but he’s such a lil shit and has chaotic dumbass energy but like...lowkey lol, very loyal tho, he kinda keeps others at arms length but will appreciate you sm if you become one of his ppl

can be reckless if he’s comfortable w you and around the right ppl

swears too much

extra awkward once finding out he likes someone, will be gruffer than he means to bc he’s just like ew why?

projects this sort of intimidating, confident kind of aura but is actually v insecure

trust issues *finger guns*

usually has paint stains on his jeans but he couldn’t really care less? and he’d dare someone to say smth to him about it

actual name is theodore but he hates it sm call him that at your own risk

stubborn AF and can be pretty judgmental of ppl who come off as snobby and entitled??? hates those kinds of ppl

is so so protective of jasmine despite usually being a pain to her, that’s his baby SISTER

where does he work? idek man maybe at like a tattoo place or smth, ill figure it out

[ot3]

My approach to flat colors + limited palette drawings

This is a follow up to this post  i made about how i go about figuring out a color palette for my limited palette drawings. an anon asked me about my actual technique of finishing them so this is gonna be an explanation of how I work in a limited palette with flat colors. I ended up with these thumbnails for a sketch last time so we’re gonna work from here and I’m gonna sort of walk through how i got to the finished version

first things first: every part of this process is just developed as a result of me messing around. take my advice with a grain of salt and if you think you know a way to do something better/that makes you more comfortable. go with that over what I say.

I’m honestly a little surprised when people express confusion about how i draw like this because it’s SUPER simple - literally all you’re doing is just stacking solid color blocks of shape. its very imprecise despite how sharp everything ends up looking. 

First things first is that you want to decide how you will be handling your edges throughout the duration. Do you want your shapes to be ultra-sharp and precise, or do you want a little bit of a wobblier, grainier edge? Both can look good but it’s VERY much a matter of situational basis. i’ve been favoring looser and grainier shapes so that’s how i’m going to be working on this. 

on the left here, you can see the shapes made with precise rectangular selections and an untextured pen, on the right, freehand drawn shapes and a grittier pen. There’s something immediately pretty different feeling about them. So play around with that first - its not something that’s fun to change halfway through! But lets step back a minute. It helps to work large to small. The two biggest shapes here are these orange chunks and everything gets stacked on top of them so i’m gonna do that first. 

Now, a key feature of what i do: clipping masks. almost all digital art programs have them. What a clipping mask does is it constrains the pixels of a layer to the transparency of the layer below it. Here I have the light orange layer, and then on top of it the buildings and billboard are clipped to the orange. Most of you probably already know this and I’m overexplaining a bit, but there was a time when i didnt know how clipping layers worked and someone had to explain it to me.

now you’ll notice the shapes of the buildings are rough, and sloppy. here’s the fun part: since this is all about stacking shapes, only your exterior edges matter. this all gets filled in. be as sloppy as you want when you’re making your shapes. in fact, the outside edges get trimmed out a bunch to when i do this - i go in and erase them clean. Don’t be too finnicky about drawing perfect and precise! its a waste of time. As long as the silhouette is what you want, the interior can be a nightmare.

Working this way, it’s important to keep your layers stacked in a way you can make sense of. Right now there are four layers here: the background dark orange, the two main orange rectangle shapes, and then the buildings on one layer and a billboard on the other. I rack up a LOT of layers doing this and it makes it annoying in some aspects, but being able to freely recolor any one chunk without losing my detail is a key aspect of this.

So, I block those out

Next, I do the same for the smaller chunks that are still main shapes. There are once again, a lot of layers here. The top layer is the hair - you can see the head showing through it. The head and arm underneath the hair, same layer. Then the cup. Then the light green pieces of paper. Then the dark green ones.

The cup is technically farther forward than the head and arm so you would think it’d go on top, but the point isnt to recreate the foreground and background hierarchy with layers so much as it is to group things in a way i can work with. The cup goes underneath so it can be grouped with all the other objects on the table. 

now, i just go and fill in all the shapes. i forgot to do the blinds but i get them later. you might notice a lot of these shapes are pretty rough, which was harder to notice before they were filled in. Now that I can see better, I go in with an eraser and clean up the edges until they’re the shape I want 

sometimes erasing leaves little bits of ‘noise’ around objects like on this napkin here. i like to keep a little bit of this noise for texture, but if you dont like it make sure to get rid of it! if you’re working very crisp this will stand out a LOT

Next up is to add some detail onto the objects

I flipped the canvas here because the head shape was wrong - the ears were uneven and i wanted to fix it. I want to go about adding detail onto the billboard and buildings. i do all detail with clipping masks - but the objects are clipped to another layer and so nothing can be clipped to them. instead, i unclip them and just erase by selection for the same effect

all of the text on the papers is clipped to the papers below it. the buttons are clipped to the phone. the yellow photos and card are actually another independent layer on top, in case i want to recolor them separately. im indecisive and end up recoloring things a lot. For the most part these objects are starting to become recognizable as more than just shapes

i go in an add the details on the background and character now. theres some more stuff on the table. the lines of the face and ears are on one layer, and the flats of the eyes below that. Here’s what each group of layers is, and what they look like on their own

The background/bottom chunk. Just the table, window, and shirt.

The middle bit. All the stuff on the table and the blinds.

Finally, the top, which is just his head and arm. 

now this stage is the bare bones of the drawing. you can more or less tell everything that’s happening. it reads. but its very much lacking in something - it doesnt have a ton of depth or interest. and adding that additional detailing, the dept and interest, is where stuff starts getting REALLY tricky and subjective. 

im gonna take you to a much simpler scenario to show the sort of options i go through at this stage

ahh its our dear friend, sphere casting shadow. this is, more or less, the kind of image we have. you can tell whats happening but it’s lackluster. there are TONSSS of ways frm here that you can go add interior detail to a shape once it has been established. here are some quick and SUPER rough examples

from top left to bottom right: flat cel shading, softer airbrushed/gradient shading, halftone, and a textured brush. Each of these has their strengths and weaknesses. They can also be combined.

for example, here’s the solid cel shading being used to contain a gradient/airbrushed detail. This image - probably the single oldest piece of my art i still willingly show people - is entirely colored with gradients being contained in cel-shaded chunks. It has a sort of soft, luminous quality but without losing its crispness.

here’s a super quick bust with some variations of stuff going on. obviously this is no masterpiece but you see how different types of detailing can interact with each other and be used to distinguish materials too. 

With the mob psycho comic I did, the detailing that wasnt line was done using a variety of halftones of different shapes layered on top of each other

by contrast parts of my ace attorney comic use a textured brush and have a sort of blended, papery feel

any of them can work for pretty much anything as long as you are using it with intent. practice around. mix styles of finishing together. find a comfort zone. the more you do it the more intuitive it becomes and at the heart of it this process is a very intuitive way of drawing because of how far removed it is from realism.

Now here is the trick - light and shadow.

Everything up to this point has been very flat and adding detail helps but there’s only so much that can accomplish. To get HEAVY light and shadow you need to think about things differently. I think if there’s any part of this process that’s complicated, its this one. 

To truly get the most out of your palette, you need to pick chunks of an image to be in higher/lower light and then either ‘step up’ or ‘step down’ the colors in that chunk. here’s what I mean.

Here’s our ball with a beam of light on it. Everything Within the beam of light is one step in our limited palette lighter than anything outside of it. Here’s how I go about doing this: the shape of the beam of light is below everything else. Then, once I have the shape blocked out, i select it. With that selection in place, i go to EVERY SINGLE LAYER that’s effected, lock the opacity, and recolor that chunk. So what’s going on here is that there is only one more layer - the beam of light, below everything but the background, and the rest of this effect is just caused by every layer above it now being two-toned following the exact same silhouette. THIS is why it’s so important to keep your layers separate - if the shadow and highlight had been painted onto the base directly, i would not be able to do this without significant effort. 

This works with all of the finishing techniques I talked about above

A combination of cel shading and half toning, all stepped up to give the appearance of heavier light on one area.This is also how I go about rendering transparency in this style. All of my layers are fully opaque and I allow the colors to do the work of conveying transparent material

Here’s our ball with the patterned/textured brush  shading, being viewed partially through a window

it’s obviously not a very representational way of working, but as long as your audience UNDERSTANDS what you’re trying to convey, then you’re executing it successfully.

So with that, now we’re gonna go and finish this drawing.

For this one, I decide a big central shadow is necessary. In the original thumbnail, he was backlit, which I still plan on doing, and that wouldn’t make sense without casting a shadow.

I’ve had to change the colors of some objects entirely in order to get this to work right. This is what I mean when I call this an intuitive process - some stuff felt weird, so I changed it. This also involves a bit of problem solving. The newspaper is now unable to be separated from his hand. Sometimes changing the color of an object makes that object look better, but ruins its relationship with the objects around it. It’s up to you to learn how to adjust and finagle things until you get it where you want.The paper he has and the napkin underneath it also all blend together now.

The next few parts of this process are REALLY just trial and error, where I toss a bunch of spaghetti at it until it works. It’s hard to decide what to screenshot, because I don’t know what will or will not be part of the finished drawing. To that end, you can watch the recording of this drawing here. This video isn’t edited at all so it contains a couple of minutes of really shitty sketching, and then all of the color thumbnailing work i did in the last post. Actually getting started on these final colors begins around the two minute mark. It is also sideways, I am sorry I don’t know why. 

Now, here you can see where I’ve more or less worked things out. His hand’s not on the cup anymore because my friend pointed out it didnt have an arm attached to it. I added some halftoning to make a gradiating effect in the sky and on the table to give the impression of a sunrise. His eyes are different but as of posting this, I don’t like them and am probably about to go back and change them again. The Cup now has a shadow and some rim lighting. His hand is in shadow. The stain on the napkin is big enough to define the edge of the paper on top of it.

Little things like that. 

The more you draw like this the more the way you need to think about your space becomes natural. I hope this helps and I wish you all the best of luck!

[artificialqueens]

She (Crygi) - Lily Bee

AO3 LINK

Summary: “Sorry I’m only in my underwear,” Crystal uttered, staring Gigi in the eyes. She was looking for a reaction, but Gigi wasn’t going to give it to her.

Gigi shook your head, “I have long since become desensitized to you walking around in just your underwear,” she laughed, “at first, it was distracting but nah, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, I distracted you,” Crystal teased, eyeing Gigi up. Gigi gulped, Crystal was definitely being a tease, and all Gigi wanted to do was tear those underwear off her.

“In your dreams, Crystal.”

A/N: hey guys im lily & i got a request on tumblr for this prompt: “i have long since become desensitized to you walking around in just your underwear” and got super inspired to write some crygi smut oops. it was going to be short but became a LONG oneshot.. sorry not sorry :)

Being roommates with Crystal was quite an adventure. She was a good roommate, tidy and she was a decent cook. Though, she did like to walk around in just her underwear. At first, Gigi would get a bit distracted. Okay, a bit was an understatement - she could hardly keep her eyes away. But at this point, it barely even phased her. Though, barely was a loose term. It would be a shock if Crystal was fully clothed when Gigi got home. Typically she would be in an oversized t-shirt and a little black thong. It was like she was purposely trying to tease Gigi, and today was no different.

Gigi came home from work exhausted, instantly going to her room to change into pjs. When she came back into the main room she was met with a clothless Crystal in the kitchen. "Can you help me with this, Gigi?" she asked as she reached to the top of the cabinet. Her arms stretched as high as they could, her t-shirt rising with it revealing her stomach and her underwear, Gigi lost her breath at the sight. She walked over to where Crystal was pointing up at her favorite mug that was just out of reach. Crystal didn't move, just stood next to Gigi as the tall girl easily grabbed it from the top shelf.

"Thank you," Crystal beamed, taking it from Gigi's hands, letting her fingertips linger on Gigi for a few seconds. Only Gigi would have noticed, it was hard not to for her

"Sorry I'm only in my underwear," Crystal uttered, staring Gigi in the eyes. She was looking for a reaction, but Gigi wasn't going to give it to her.

Gigi shook her head, "I have long since become desensitized to you walking around in just your underwear," she laughed, "at first, it was distracting but nah, I don't mind."

"Oh, I distracted you?" Crystal teased, eyeing Gigi up. Gigi gulped, Crystal was definitely being a tease, and all Gigi wanted to do was tear those underwear off her.

"In your dreams, Crystal," she mumbled. She had seemed to have lost all ability to speak, or try to defuse Crystal's teasing. She just stared at the ground, feeling Crystal's eyes on her still.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Crystal asked, "Do you want to watch a movie tonight?"

"Yeah sure," she murmured, "I'll make popcorn."

-

The pair settled down on their couch wrapped in a large blanket, popcorn laying in between them. Crystal searched through Netflix looking for something to watch. "Nothing looks good," Crystal complained. The pair had watched every single decent movie they could. Movie nights ending in them falling asleep on each other was not uncommon. Gigi couldn't count all the times she had offered to watch a movie just as an excuse to hold Crystal close.

"We could rewatch Titanic," Gigi suggested. They had seen the movie at least ten times but always seemed to come back to it. It was Gigi's favorite movie after all, not even for the plot but for the three hour run time. It just gave the pair more time together.

"Works for me, I know how much you love it," Crystal agreed. She searched for the movie and pressed play settling back into the couch.

The pair sat in silence as the film began, the sounds of the music drowning out their breathing. Gigi could feel Crystal's bare thigh placed ever so gently next to hers. 20 minutes into the movie and Gigi couldn't help but notice how much Crystal keeps wiggling.

"Crystal, are you okay?" Gigi asked as she moved a little to see her face.

"Mm, yeah, just getting comfortable," Crystal smiled.

Gigi seemed content with the answer as she nodded and rested her body back down. Crystal moved one last time and this time, she moved so that her ass was right against Gigi's front. Gigi's body tensed up and she could clearly see Crystal's shoulders shake from silently laughing. All that ran through her mind is two can play at that game. Gigi rested her hand on Crystal's hip and started rubbing. Crystal's laughter stopped, and Gigi waited to see if she was going to say something. Crystal's body practically melted into the couch when Gigi started to back up the movement of her hand. She let her hand run under the hem of her oversized t-shirt. Her fingers meet Crystal's warm skin. Gigi walked her fingers back down Crystal's hip over her undies and down her thigh. She rested her palm on Crystal's thigh and began massaging it. It took all her self-control to not entertain the idea of going up the inner side. They relaxed into each other as they watched the movie. Well, barely watching. Neither had any clue that they were on each other's mind.

Gigi looked up at Crystal who was already looking at her. She searched the girls eyes for some sort of an answer, but Crystal just pulled her hand away. "No, you don't have to stop," Gigi gasped. Crystal just smiled, knowing that this was the answer she was looking for.

Fuck it.

Gigi pounced on her, their lips crashing together a little too roughly. With one hand firmly on the back of Crystal's neck, Gigi kept her in place as she took the kiss she had been dying for all night. There was the slightest bit of resistance at first, but within seconds Crystal was melting against her, kissing back so sweet and desperate.

Crystal's lips moved from Gigi lips to her jaw. She peppered loving kisses along Gigi's jawline, nipping close to the pulse point just below her ear before kissing further down her neck. Gigi let a small sound escape her lips. Finally, after months of teasing, Crystal iwas finally doing exactly what she wanted her to this whole time. Crystal pushed Gigi a little further back on the couch and climbed onto her lap, straddling her thighs. One hand found its way up into Gigi's blonde hair, fingers gently combing through it as her other hand pressed against Gigi's chest. Her soft attack of Gigi's neck continued, all lips and teeth and tongue, and Gigi found her hips rocking up every so often adding to the friction

Comfortably straddling Gigi, Crystal purred into her ear "don't touch." As much as it was a command, it was also a challenge and Crystal knew Gigi wouldn’t pass up a challenge. The heat radiating off both of them was intense, suddenly Gigi was aware that they were wearing too much clothing but before she could protest, Crystal was rocking her hips ever so gently on her lap. Immediately Gigi's hips bucked up to meet Crystal's, subconsciously she went to wrap her arms around the redhead’s waist, but Crystal was quick. She grabbed Gigi's wrists with some force, her eyes now completely dark and pupils blown, "I said don't touch."

Gigi growled in frustration as she placed her hands on either side of Crystal's spread thighs, ensuring they didn't touch. She could feel the muscles in Crystal's tantalizing thighs tighten as they wrapped around her waist, her fingers digging deep into Gigi's back as Crystal used her to pull herself closer.

"Mmm." It was low and husky and it caused Gigi's body to shudder as she watched the moan spill from barely parted lips, wanting so desperately to take those lips between her own. Crystal was now quickening the pace and grinding down harder, slowly lifting and lowering herself onto Gigi's lap, conveniently using Gigi's abdomen for extra friction. Crystal's hands explored Gigi's physique over the top of her pjs; she mapped the dips of Gigi's waist and the ridges of her shoulders.

"Crystal," it's moaned with a subtle hint of desperation and it's enough for Crystal to cup Gigi's cheek and pull her in for another kiss. The deep breath Crystal took before indulging in Gigi's lips is soon robbed from her. As soon as their lips collided, both women moaned into it, sending waves of electricity through their bodies and pooling between their thighs. Still, Gigi was being well behaved, her hands wandered to touch Crystal, ghosting over her tan thighs, but she was disciplined enough to not make contact. Crystal was still comfortably rocking her hips, her gentle thrusts now in sync with Gigi's. "God, I just want to touch you," Gigi moaned as she bit down onto her own lip knowing how true that statement was. She breathed heavily now, each staggered breath revealed defined collarbones just below her neck that Crystal was eager to run her lips against.

“Do you want a touch? Do you want a taste?" iIt was almost too much for Gigi, her hands snapped around Crystal's waist like lightning, grabbing Crystal's ass, there was way too much for both of her hands and it's exactly how she liked it. Crystal returned to kissing her, her hands running through the blonde's hair, tugging and pulling slightly as she tried to strangle a moan. Gigi cupped Crystal's breasts through the t-shirt feeling her piercing.

"Can I?" Crystal nodded and hummed contentedly when Gigi barely waited for an answer, pulling the shirt over her head completely to reveal her almost naked body. All that was left of Crystal was those damned panties.

"Holy shit," Gigi ogled her up and down, "So beautiful..."

Gigi brushed her thumbs over Crystal's aching, pink nipples, playing raptly with the cool steal bars that spear through them. Childlike wonder painted all over her face, Gigi was absolutely enamored with them.

"You need to be naked, like now, so not fair," Crystal pouted, frantically pulling up Gigi's shirt. Gigi helped her, stripping until she was just as nude.

Gigi was gorgeous. No other word for it. She had this allure to her that had Crystal ready to do anything for her. Sharp cheekbones, flawless skin, and baby doll lips, it was all becoming so obvious, her breasts creamy and soft. Crystal couldn't resist, her hands flew towards Gigi's chest like a magnet. She made such pretty noises as Crystal played with her, throwing her head back in enjoyment. Crystal extended her neck to get one of those delectable nipples into her mouth. As she sucked and nipped, Gigi felt her pussy gush with more wetness. It was all too much, she was beyond aroused.

Gigi grabbed and tugged Crystal's hair by the root, her blunt nails euphoric against her scalp. She pulled Crystal off her breast to kiss her again. Gigi fully relaxed on top of her, their bodies now flush against one another. Sweat formed from their increased gyrating, hot shallow breaths bouncing back and forth between them.

Gigi crawled down the length of Crystal's body, one at a time suckling on both her rock hard nipples. She took a moment to play with her nipple piercing, taking the barbell between her lips and pulling ever so gently.

As amazing as that felt, Crystal felt her heart-rate skyrocket when Gigi kept going even lower, kissing her way down until she finally landed right in front of her drenched pussy. "Oh my god," Gigi exclaimed with excitement.

Despite Gigi's eager reaction, Crystal still gave her an out. "You don't have to," she managed to say, but Gigi shushed her.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Crystal, I've been crushing on you for a while. So trust me I fucking want this," Gigi declared firmly, not giving Crystal another chance to argue, because much too quickly her brain was threatening to short circuit. Gigi's mouth dove right in, kissing and licking at her throbbing clit.

"Ohhhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Gigi!" Crystal moaned, burying her hands in the sea of blonde hair. Gigi moaned deep inside her, planting her hands on Crystal's thighs, making sure to keep them spread. For a short moment, Crystal felt like this wasn’t actually real life. There was no way Gigi was eating her out in the middle of their living room.

Her thoughts were interrupted with the question, "Are you gonna come?" Gigi stopped pleasuring her to speak. Her voice sounded nervous, but a good nervous.

"Yes, yes, please, yes," Crystal panted heavily, her hips thrusting up ever so gently.

"Good, then come...come for me," Gigi demanded, licking a small teasing stripe directly over her clit, before sinking back into her.

Gigi's tongue circled rapidly over that sensitive spot, coaxing Crystal's release right out of her. She 'was relentless, fucking drinking every last drop of it as Crystal screamed and seized up.

"Gigi, Jesus Christ, so good," she babbled, as she calmed down.

Crystal captured Gigi's eyes as she lazily continued to press soft, loving kisses all around the over stimulated area. "C'mere, need you," Crystal begged, heaving Gigi up towards her.

Gigi rested her head against Crystal's chest, both of them trying to catch their breath. Gigi's mind was racing; she actually just did that.

"Maybe I should only wear underwear around the house more often," Crystal giggled.

"God, shut up," Gigi laughed along with her. She definitely should.

[ghosttotheparty]

say my name and say it twice (cotton candy skies)

23. also on AO3 chapter twenty two

warning: this chapter contains sexual content please skip it if youre uncomfortable  stay safe <3

Jens forced himself to stay awake until Lucas answered his text. 

Even though his lights were off, and his blanket was pulled up around him, he looked at his phone, scrolling pointlessly and aimlessly, looking at videos and watching memes until Lucas responded. Jens’s heart jumped when he did, excited after hours of not hearing from him, ready to listen to his quiet voice. 

Jens was just about falling asleep when they called a few minutes later, after Lucas had put away his brushes and palette, and changed and brushed his teeth, and he could barely even talk, mumbling a whispered “Hi.”

They fell asleep (or at least he did) not long after his little “Me too.” 

He is excited. He doesn’t think Lucas really understand how excited he is. 

They’ve fallen asleep together before, that night on the dumpster, Jens’s head in Lucas’s lap, Lucas gently brushing his fingertips over Jens’s cheeks and brows and lips and eyes, combing through his hair as their fingers entwined. But he looks forward to holding Lucas, wrapping his arms around him underneath his blankets, being able to hide from the rest of the world in his four walls. He’s thought about how it might go. He’d kiss Lucas, of course, kiss his forehead while he’s falling asleep, push his curls out of his face so he can look at him in the dark, with the street and moonlight streaming through gaps in his curtain. He’d hear Lucas’s little puffs of breath, maybe feel them against his neck or chest.

Lucas tells him in the morning (through a text that Jens doesn’t see until he wakes up several hours after it’s sent) that he’ll have to go to his place in the evening, that Milan woke him up early to take him to Leuven. 

So Jens waits. 

Lotte and Mama leave early, around nine. (Jens is still been asleep; they leave a note.) (Lotte signs it with a little heart.) Jens did some homework. He finishes all the maths, but he leaves some history because he can’t focus on it. He’ll ask Robbe for the answers later. 

He gets a few texts from Lucas throughout the day. 

milan talks too much zoe and senne are so cute fuck milan bought the same shirt in three different colours??? why???

And a selfie taken with Milan, who is smiling broadly and excitedly while Lucas’s face remains flat, looking tired and bored. Jens saves it. 

He gets a text in the evening, while he’s playing a video game halfheartedly, that makes his heart jump.

im on my way 

He’s almost impatient, replying a quick :D and then going back to the game, his knee bouncing quickly up and down. He loses the game after a few minutes. 

When there’s a knock at the door, he practically jumps out of his seat, opening the door before Lucas has the opportunity to knock again.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi.” 

He reaches out and pulls Lucas into a kiss, tugging him inside before shutting the door behind him. It’s dim outside, the sky a glowing sort of red, and Jens hasn’t turned on any of the lights in the living room. Lucas grabs Jens’s waist as he kisses him back, smiling softly, and Jens sighs. 

“How are you?” Jens asks when they pull away. They’ve stepped back into the apartment, standing in the living room, making no move to leave or let go of each other. 

“Tired.” His voice is soft, and Jens brushed his fingertips over his freckled cheeks. Lucas’s eyes drift shut slightly.

“We were up pretty late last night.” 

“Mm.”

“Did you sleep on the train?” 

“Like a baby.”

Jens chuckles lightly, leaning down and kissing him gently. When he pulls away, Lucas’s eyes are half-closed, his mouth parted. 

“I fell asleep on Senne’s shoulder,” he says after a quiet second. “When we got off the train he said he let me because I was cute.”

“You are cute.”

“When I sleep, though?”

“Mm-hmm. We’ve fallen asleep on FaceTime enough times for me to know.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” He kisses him again. “You’re like Sleeping Beauty but… more beauty.”

Lucas scoffs, tilting his head up and kissing him again, gently biting his lip at Jens winds his fingers through his hair. Jens pulls away before licking his lips and pulling him back in, feeling as Lucas’s mouth opens under his, as Lucas’s grip on his waist tightens, his fingers curling unto the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“I missed you,” Lucas whispers when they pull back for a breath, and Jens kisses him before responding.

“It was only like a day.” 

Lucas sighs heavily. 

“I know.”

Jens laughs, pressing his lips to Lucas’s forehead. He can sense Lucas’s eyes closing, and they stay there. 

---

“Did you bring art to show me?” Jens asks several minutes later, when Lucas pulls his head away and presses a soft kiss to Jens’s cheek. 

“Mm… Kind of. I didn’t bring a book but I have pictures.” 

“Show me,” Jens says as he takes Lucas’s hand, pulling him down the hall to his room, and Lucas pulls his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie. When they enter Jens’s room, Lucas beams at the wall above his desk (Jens’s face burns a little bit) and he takes off his backpack, tossing it to the ground next to the bed. Jens jumps up onto the bed, crossing his legs as he faces Lucas, and Lucas sits across from him, swiping and tapping the screen of his phone as Jens watches fondly, his eyes soft. Lucas’s curls fall into his face as he focuses on the screen, and Jens reaches out and pushes them, holding them up so he can see Lucas’s face.

“Here.” Lucas holds his phone out and Jens takes it, spinning it around to look at the picture. “I did that one last week.” 

It’s a drawing of Zoë, lightly done in pencil. She’s looking over her shoulder, her hair parted in the middle, with a little hoop earring in. Jens zooms in, smiling softly.

“Woah.” 

“It’s like Girl With the Pearl Earring,” Lucas says. “That’s what Zoë makes me think of.” 

“Have you shown her?” 

“Not yet.” 

“You should.” Jens looks closer, bringing the phone up and zooming in more. They’re her eyes. Everything, from the way her hair falls to the tops of her shoulders, tucked behind her ear, to the gentle lashes around her eyes. Even the light in her eyes, the light that feels like the little secrets Jens doesn’t know about, is just like her, just like when Jens catches her eye at parties or at school. It’s like Lucas took a picture of her with his eyes, like he captured her spirit and soul in the picture, and put it on paper. “She’d love it.” 

He glances up and Lucas is looking at the ground, his cheeks pink. He’s wincing, a painful smile, and Jens shakes his head at him even though he doesn’t see. He’s always so shy about his art, even pieces that he’s proud of. Even if he spent hours on it, even if he stays up almost overnight to work on it, even if he rambles to Jens about how proud he is of it, as soon as Jens (or anyone else) says one word in praise, Lucas’s face burns up and he looks away, smiling bashfully. 

“Do you have any more?” Jens asks, passing Lucas’s phone back, not wanting to scroll without permission. 

“Uh, yeah, I have…” Lucas scrolls again before handing Jens the phone. “This is what I was doing last night. It’s drying on my desk.” 

Jens takes the phone, looking down as Lucas adds “It’ll probably be drying for the next two weeks.”

It’s colourful, the colour changing from cool to warm tones in blocky, geometric strokes of thick paint. He sees more colour when he looks closer, subtle hints of orange around the green, tiny dashes of blue in the red. There are circles and half-circles around the edges of the canvas, in yellow and white with wisps of pink, and what looks like subtle carvings of faces and hands in the paint.

“Holy shit.”

He looks up at Lucas, who is smiling almost expectantly. 

“This is oils?” Jens asks, looking back at the painting. 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Woah.” 

He slides the photo over, looking closer, seeing shadows on the painting under the divots made in the paint by Lucas’s palette knife. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you get it?” 

Jens looks up at him, confused. Lucas is wincing slightly, like he hadn’t meant to say it.

“What do you mean?” 

“I…” Lucas looks away, his eyes narrowing as he thinks. “Art is supposed to mean something, you know?” 

Jens nods.

“It’s supposed to say something.” Their eyes lock and Jens’s lips begin to curl into a smile. “Are you listening?”

Jen’s smile grows and he looks back at the painting, feeling Lucas watching him. He zooms back out of the painting, looking at the whole things, seeing the masses of paint smoothed onto the canvas, somehow both delicate and bold, seeing the tiny, thing grooves left in the paint from Lucas’s paintbrushes, noticing another eye he hadn’t seen before, seeing a brighter shade of blue he hadn’t noticed right in the centre of a few circles around the edges.

He looks at the painting.

Noticing.

And noticing.

And noticing.

Until—

“Oh.”

He hears Lucas let out a light laugh. 

“Do you hear it?” 

Jens looks up, a slow smile creeping across his face, and he gazes at Lucas. Lucas is smiling, his eyes sparkling, and Jens can’t stop himself. 

He leans over, across their legs, and kisses him. 

Lucas’s hands fly up, catching Jens’s face, sliding to hold the back of his head as Jens’s tongue slips across his lips, and Lucas lets out a quiet gasp. Jens reaches up, touching the side of Lucas’s face, angling his head and biting his lip before letting go. He moves, stepping off the bed slowly, not moving back too far from Lucas, whose hands are still holding Jens’s head, whose eyes are drifted shut so he looks sleepy, whose lips are parted. Jens turns away, his hand placed on Lucas’s leg, and clicks Lucas’s phone off before tossing it to the ground, aiming it at a blanket that had fallen off his bed. It lands with a small thump and Jens looks back to Lucas. 

Lucas hasn’t looked away from him, his eyes cloudy, and as soon as Jens is facing him, Lucas pulls him in. Jens stumbles, catching himself on the bed and Lucas’s leg as Lucas kisses him harder. As Jens feels Lucas’s tongue slide into his mouth, he gently pushes him, and Lucas moves back, pulling Jens with him, and Jens falls on top of him, landing between his legs and Lucas falls onto his back. 

Lucas wraps his arms around Jens’s neck and Jens holds himself up on his forearms, placed around Lucas’s head, framing him. He can hear Lucas making little sounds, soft breathy pants and faint hums, and he bites his lip gently, hoping to elicit more. 

It works. 

Lucas gasps, their lips separating, and his hands slide down Jens’s neck to his shoulders, holding his tightly for a second before, moving to his back, and Jens feels Lucas gather the fabric in his hands and tug gently. Jens meets his eyes, his own flickering back and forth between Lucas’s, and he pushes himself up, pulling Lucas with him. Jens kisses him again, pressing both his hands to Lucas’s face before moving his hands to Lucas’s sides, pulling the hem of his hoodie up, and Lucas pulls away for him to pull it over his head. 

It gets caught and Jens can hear Lucas’s laughter muffled under the fabric, and he grins, gently moving it so it goes over his head smoothly. When it’s off, Lucas leans in, kissing Jens messily as Jens tosses it away, and Jens can feel his smile against his mouth. 

Lucas pulls the hem of Jens’s shirt and Jens moves back, letting him pull it over his head. 

Lucas’s eyes drop when it’s off, skimming across Jens’s skin, and part of Jens wants to cross his arms over his chest and hide. Another part of Jens wants to lean over and kiss Lucas so he’ll stop looking, but before he can, Lucas is leaning forward, tilting his head, and pressing his lips to Jens’s skin, softly kissing over his shoulder and then his collarbone. Jens’s eyes close and he sighs. He can hear his own heart beating, can hear the heavy pounding in his chest, that Lucas covers with kisses, brushing his lips over the skin before moving up to the side of Jens’s neck. Jens shudders at the feeling of Lucas’s tongue and teeth skim his neck, at the feeling of him mouth around his earring. 

He pushes Lucas onto his back again, placing his arms around his head, shoving his face into Lucas’s, kissing him harshly, biting at his lip, hearing a quiet whimper escape Lucas’s throat. He feels Lucas’s legs wrap around him, lets out a quiet groan as Lucas pushes his hips against Jens’s. Lucas slides his hands to hold Jens’s face, pulling away just far enough that their lips still brush together, breathless. 

“Lu.”

A quiet whine.

“What do you want?”

Lucas’s eyes open, and it takes a second before they focus on Jens, the blue misted over as he pants quietly. 

“You.” 

Their eyes lock again, both intense and soft, before Jens kisses him, licking into his mouth almost lazily. 

“You’ll stop me if it hurts?” Jens asks, his fingers brushing over Lucas’s cheek.

Lucas nods. 

“Or if you’re uncomfortable or change your mind?” 

Lucas kisses him, sucking his lower lip. 

“Promise?” Jens asks when he lets go. 

“Promise,” Lucas responds breathlessly. 

Jens nods, moving down and pressing his lips to Lucas’s chest, trailing kisses across the skin of his chest and belly as Lucas’s hands float aimlessly in the air before landing on the bed and gathering the material of the sheets into loose fists. 

He glances up at Lucas before unbuttoning and unzipping jeans, and Lucas lifts his hips so Jens can slide them down, tugging his boxers down with them before tossing them away. (They land with his hoodie.) Jens presses his hands to his hips, sliding them over his thighs. 

Lucas is beautiful. 

Jens murmurs it to him absentmindedly, and Lucas flushes, smiling the same way he does when Jens praises his art. 

Jens presses a kiss to the top of his foot, to his ankle, his knee, above his knee, a slow kiss to his inner thigh (he hears Lucas’s breath stutter and he runs his hands down the sides of his legs).

He listens to Lucas’s gasps, the way he chokes on his breath as Jens takes him into his mouth. (He tries to pretend that he knows what he’s doing.)

“Jens—” 

Jens lifts himself up, leaning up, and Lucas reaches out, pulling him in by the neck, kissing him messily, sliding his tongue into his mouth, biting his lip, gasps and pants caught in the air between them. 

---

“Jens,” Lucas gasps. 

“Mm.” 

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Baby, please.” 

His voice is high and strained, breaking slightly as he moans quietly when Jens takes his fingers from him. 

It’s a little bit before Jens is ready too, his hands too shaky to put the condom on right the first time, and then he holds himself above Lucas, gently pushing his curls out of his face. 

“Okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” A whimper. 

Jens lets out a quiet moan as he pushes into him, feeling as Lucas’s hands slide up and grab his shoulders, and he stays for a second, his head dropped to Lucas’s neck. He can feel Lucas’s chest rise and fall against his, can feel all his blood rushing through his limbs,  can feel every cell in his body fucking glowing. He gently rocks his hips and Lucas clutches at his back, his nails scratching his faintly. 

There’s a moment where Jens pulls, tucks his hand under the small of Lucas’s back and draws him in closer, and Lucas lets out a gasp, his hands jumping from Jens’s shoulders to his head, grabbing his hair and grasping, holding on like he’ll fall apart if he lets go. 

It’s not long after that that Jens breaks. 

And Lucas puts him right back together again. 

--- 

Lucas is still breathing heavily when Jens lifts himself up. Their skin sticks together slightly, and Lucas’s hands fall from his hair, flopping on to the bed. His eyes flutter when he feels Jens get up, but he doesn’t move. 

Jens comes back with a damp towel, and he sits next to Lucas, gently wiping down his stomach and chest before pressing soft kisses to his forehead. Lucas opens his eyes and smiles, reaching up and pulling Jens down by his neck, kissing him, and Jens drops the towel before climbing over Lucas, pulling up a light blanket over them. 

Lucas comes in close, curling his hands against Jens’s chest, and Jens wraps his arms around him, sighing softly. He can smell Lucas’s hair, a smell that’s sweet, and citrusy, and distinctly him. (He smells like a G chord, Jens thinks fondly, and he smiles.) 

He didn’t close the curtains. It’s dark out, just dark enough that the streetlights are glowing, the light of them peering around the buildings neighbouring Jens’s apartment building. 

Jens lets his eyes drift shut. 

He can feel Lucas’s breathe on his chest,

There’s something he could say. 

Just a few small words, that Lucas might not even hear. He could say them to the air around them, to the stars and streetlights. 

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t have to.

[mangomochi-yn]

unexpected lovers [simple, really]

shiratorizawa. ushijima wakatoshi x reader

g. the softest fluff, im weak

tw. just mad ushi lovin   wc. 1.7k (holy das a lot..)

everything you do, i don’t know how, strikes a chord within me

on Wakatoshi

this one 

this one is well known for having basically one (1) constant thoughts only really

and that is— volleyball

(maybe some farming and the necessary school work every now and then)

but everyone knew not to expect more than that from him

except Ushijima really is still human, isn’t he?

on the rare moments he thinks of the future and is not ridden with being a pro volleyball player, he does think about one thing that go hand in hand with a nice farm

a family

and this happens once in a blue moon for him

literally twice a year at most

((once was when he sees a lovely sister and baby brother walk up to their parents during a small hanabi festival Tendou took him to, the scene of them all in yukatas gleaming at each other hit a chord in him for just a split second))

no it wasn't the confessions he would receive by the girls in his school, none of those fazed him

instead—for the second time that year—it was when he went to their school’s annual art exhibition with the rest of the vbc

((cause you KNOW that school is fancy enough to have a grand one))

he mainly went because they had to give up the gym early for art clubs to set up their works there too

but once he sees the all kinds of works lining the halls of the gym and 1st & 2nd floors of their school he would be lying if he said wasn’t astonished

it was his first time to attend one of his school’s annual art exhibition (despite being a third year)

((Tendou told him that this year’s was held shorter so he might be able to use the gym after they clean up))

(Semi scolds the red head for lying to him later)

but as they see how Ushijima’s gaze gleams just a little bit brighter that afternoon—they deemed the lie worth it

at least their captain might have one beautiful memory of highschool that wasn’t the sport he was so dedicated to

the various paintings, sculptures, photography, and many more works kept catching his eyes in amazement— just like a shy kid brought to a candy store

but it was deemed even more worth it once they pass by this table— a little bit smaller than the others— stationed in the second floor

in front of the classroom at the very end of the hall, furthest from the stairway 

there was a table filled with the randomest objects painted with different kinds of oil and water based paints

a pillow, glass cups, a broom and even a stop sign were colored vibrantly in display

while tendou and reon laugh at the painted broom, shirabu and semi stare at the stop sign, discussing about how it should have been illegal to take the government’s property off the streets

they were all loudly throwing comments and compliments at the bizarre trinkets but ushijima was the one silent— unwavering gaze at one object he was all too familiar with

“May I hold that one?”

the rest of the boys’ eyes finally snapped to the ace’s direction and all simultaneously their eyes widen comically, amazed by the object

“Holy crap how did they think of painting that?” Yamagata exclaims while Tendou was freaking out

“Wow... that is so cool.” Goshiki’s eyes sparkled as Semi and Shirabu nod in agreement

their captain was the quietest—and although that was common—even they could see how his eyes had a stunned look to it as he held the object in hand

a single painted volleyball

painted with all four seasons of the year angled in a way the colors lined with the ball’s stitching

in each patch were small silhouettes of people too— one was a lone man, then a couple playing walking hand in hand, a family of four by a swing set, then a couple again but with hunched backs and older looking statures this time

and at the last patch—a small pair of gravestones, with the wind blowing leaves on them

Ushijima hadn’t even noticed he was holding his breath as he gazed at each vibrant season

he only blinked again as Tendou rips the ball out of his grasp, fawning over it with the rest of the team

this was the second blue moon for him

the second time thoughts of love and family run across his head—and this time it wasn’t for a split second

his unexpected lover was a piece of art

—a piece of art that made something he held everyday seem so unfamiliar yet familiarly beautiful

as he scans the rest of the works laid on the table he finally notices the similar themes for each one of them too

the glass cups had wedding rings and white flowers painted delicately

the stop sign had two hands clasping on a car’s armrest, driving in a road at the side of a mountain

the pillow was painted like an ultrasound albeit having starking colors unlike the typical black and white—a vague silhouette of a baby was airily painted on it

and the broom

it was the simplest of them all

the broom had different sized hands plastered on it— one gruff and large, two pairs of dainty slim ones with one pair smaller, and the smallest one chubby and stout like a toddler’s

it reminded him of the family he saw on the hanabi festival he went to

and it was so fascinating

—how those few artworks had his heart beating a different pace and made his ears seem to hear clearer, more openly

he fell in love with them

and he couldn’t help but think of the person behind them as well— wanting to thank them for giving him this foreign but warm feeling

“Oh? You’re Ushijima-san from the volleyball club, right?”

a jolly voice snaps him out of his thoughts

matching the voice was you— with some paint stains on your face and a dirty apron tied to your front

you glanced around with a wide smile and see the rest of the vbc, making your smile even brighter

“Oh you guys are all here!”

the boys shift their attention to you as you drop your messy palette and brush on the chair behind you, bowing slightly as you tuck a hair behind your ear

“Ahh.. I see you guys saw what I stole from you.” 

you point towards the volleyball

Ushijima’s eyes stuck to it again

“I’m really sorry for stealing it! One of my assignments was to paint on a round object and the basketball was too rough while the baseball was too small!”

you clasp your hands for forgiveness and in the back of his head Ushijima was fascinated by how your personality seemed to match the vibrant paintings so perfectly

it was as if you were one of the paintings as well— he thought

“I just borrowed it really! You can definitely take it back and I’ll wash it if you’d like.”

the thought of washing away the masterpiece on the ball made Ushijima’s brows furrow

(although he never liked when the volleyballs they used were dirty, it irked him to even think of washing the one Semi was holding)

“What?! Definitely not, it’d be such a waste!” Tendou conveys the club’s mutual thoughts, all of them nodding along

“And we have a whole cart of volleyballs to practice with yknow? You keeping this one wouldn’t hurt.”

“Here.” Semi shoves the ball back to your chest 

((and secretly it displeases Ushijima how roughly the ball was handled))

“Eh? But really I didn’t even ask you guys first if I could have one before taking it...” —Tendou only shakes his head defiantly with his hands on his hips, not willing to take back the volleyball in your hands

“Really, you should keep it.. umm Painter-san. We could never take your artwork away from you.”—Goshiki says barely above a whisper 

and although you’re in awe at the club’s thoughtfulness, the guilt was still gnawing in the back of your head— wanting to give the volleyball to its rightful owner

so you glance and notice how their tall captain was silent— eyes staring straight into the volleyball in your arms and an idea pops in your head

“Ushijima-san, would you like to keep it? Think of it as a makeshift trophy of sorts, by your guys’ new biggest fan, Y/N.”

and his eyes snap up to yours, scanning to see if there was any trace of hesitation in them

the answer was clear as day to the rest of his teammates really

ever since you held the volleyball, their captain’s gaze hasn’t torn away from it

again like a shy child, this time staring a the last piece of candy— waiting for the okay to have it

“Yes, I would love to keep it.”

immediately his large hands carefully reach out for it

—a soft smile mirroring your large and bright one as you hand it to him

“I’ll be sure to keep it in my trophy case...” he lingers for a little bit before continuing his sentence

“And if you could please teach me how to properly care for and clean it? I would appreciate it very much.”

your eyes bug out as Tendou snickers uncontrollably at the side

“ushijima you sly dog” he says under his breath

all you could think of was how blunt the captain was, a deep blush stark on your cheeks

“Umm, yeah definitely! I can show you um.. when?”

“Tomorrow after practice would be the best if you are available.”

“For sure, Ushijima-san! I can wait by the gym after class.”

in your head you were thinking— the volleyball was varnished just a wipedown with a wet rag would be enough to keep it really

but as you stare the larger man in front of gaze gingerly at the volleyball, as if it was made of glass—

maybe he didn’t need to know that fact right away…, you decided

“Okay.” the same warm feeling floods through as he caresses each patch, longingly lingering at each silhouette

—after that it wasn’t just in a blue moon would Ushijima have those thoughts he never gave attention to before

as often as he saw you and your paintings he would think of thoughts like love and family

and sometimes—he noticed— he saw you in them with it

bonus— but thoughts are just thoughts really, would Ushijima ever actually act on them?

a/n. when i say ushijima is the loml i mean USHIJIMA👏 IS THE LOVE 💖❤️💕 OF MY LIFE 🗣

[zenosanalytic]

Paintbrush, PlasGlue, and Holy Clippers: Sparse Marns Part IV: Basecoats Part I

Heya! So my painting project's going well, but the steps are... So Much, and my time to paint each day is So Limited, and the photos Im taking are So Numerous, so I'm changing the terms of the deal and covering the painting in multiple posts instead of one OvO

Ok So: Here's an idea of how they all looked just before I started painting, via Stumbly and Done, with I think two days of the prime drying, and in Crispier, more artificial light than I've been shooting:

And now: The Team

Brushes

These are two different packs, from two different brands, from the local Michaels, in a paintcup from Lowes. I think the orange ones were 5 bucks(Hodge-Podge I wanna say?) and the white ones were 8? I should have probably recorded prices at time of purchase -__-

Next: Some towels for wiping my brushes with and general cleanliness-Utility:

These are disposable microfiber cloths, again from Lowes. Im pretty sure paper towels would work just as well but I've found myself in the painting section often of late, was curious how these would do, and they were EXTREMELY cheap.

Then: some jars for cleaning my brushes.

I used two so that I would have a jar of absolutely CLEAN water for wetting my brush after I've washed it in the other one and dried it on the cloth. Im using exclusively water-based paints so it's just water in these jars; there's no reason to use a mask for the painting part of this project as no turpentine or other such solvents will come anywhere NEAR this project(except for Mr. Dissolved, of course, and we're passed that uwu uwu uwu)

Ok next I wanted to try using a wet palette, something I've never done before, and, while I COULD just go buy one, I figured I'd try making one instead as it seemed fairly easy to do(actl it seems easier that the official version? Looking around at Michaels the "Acrylic paper" they use for wet palettes requires soaking in BOILING WATER for like 15 MINUTES before use??? Maybe I found the wrong stuff tho). So, I went and got a rubbermaid box I wasn't using

(Pentel R.S.V.P. bk90 Fine for scale), Put a paper towel in it like so

Got it wet(just damp; not soaked), poured off(and wrung out) any excess, then cut a piece of waxpaper to shape and pressed it in

The idea here is that the paint will sit safe from slurp and dissolution on the waxpaper while water wicks up SLOOOOOWLYYYY through it from the paper towel, keeping it moist without diluting it. This generally worked well, tho it took me awhile to get used to it and to working with the paint, which I got anxious/paranoid over a few times.

And lastly, of course, because one should NEVER go ANYWHERE without at least 3-5 notebooks on their person, a memobook and pen

Obvsl I'd include these purely on Principle, but as a practical matter it's useful to have a method for recording how many Parts of Which Color go into any colors you might mix in the course of painting u_u u_u

OK: Now it's time to make some Motherfucking CHOICES >:3

Originally, my plan was to paint these as Ultramarines. They're a Pretty Basic Blue, Red, Gold(with some white accents; GEE I wonder where that color scheme comes from???) scheme, which are all really Solid, Vibrant, Reliable colors. This subfaction is also quite literally the Model Spess Marins and posterboys for the whole model line/faction, and so there are LOTS of painting tutorials and examples out there for them and also-also I could use the box art as a handy painting-reference :> :>

BUT!

If I ever decide to play WH40k, I wouldnt want to do it with Gillman's Legionnaires(no offense to them; they're about the closest things to 'Good Guys' as Spess Marins[and WH40K humans generally outside the Adeptus Custodes/sisters of silence] GET), but rather with mine own Best Lad brainfruits: the Nova Paladins uvu uvu uvu

if I painted them as Ultramrines, I could never use them as part of that army(well I could, but only as an allied detachment, which would cause all sorts of complicated rules Shenanigans that I dont want to get into, unless I played the NPs under UM rules cuz, obvsl, you cant just PLAY your own madeup ruleset with other ppl--- It's Complicated Alright >:| >:|)

This is supposed to be a Fun and Learning experience and, as Dear Old Bob was so fond of saying, painting is about Doing What You Want; this is my own world with ALL the Happy Little Trees I WANT godsdammit so:

I decided to paint them as the Nova Paladins :3

But this Immediately presents a problem! The Nova Paladin paint scheme is (a skeletal, yellowish)white, yellow, and orange, and these are the three MOST finicky and difficult paints to paint with(allegedly u_u u_u and, spoilers, they SORT of are but theyre not THAT bad u_u u_u u_u) u_u My solution was simple: I LIKE difficult and finicky things and thus Do Not Care >:3 >:3

SO:

The Paints: and oh no! The initial pictures I took of these SUCKED so I just took some new ones with better, more LEGIBLE, lighting X| X| X|

These are my basecoats. I Know this looks intimidating but plz calm down!

The general concept for the Nova Paladins is a Bright, Warm, Friendly, almost EXPLODY(hence the name) "Heroic" color scheme: Knights in Shining Armor, vaporizing everyone they meet with the fury of 10000 Suns(ie: concentrated plasma rifles). The majority of each model(like 90% of them) is going to be the corax white there on the left: that's the "Primary" color which I planned to use for their armor. Then the imperial fist yellow would be my secondary color, for their pauldrons(the big shoulder bits), and for the sergeant's helmet. The Orange I planned to use as an accent color, tho at the time I hadn't really decided WHAT I'd be accenting with it. The mid-brown(bloodreaver flesh) I'd use for any leather details, such as their belts and pouches. The light beige there(Zandri dust) I'd use for any scroll or ribbon details. The red is a sort of secondary accent I planned to use exclusively for their grenades, and I held to that. Next to it, entirely illegible(X| X|), is Screamer Pink, which Im going to use for the seals/rosettes(which they are is a question whose answer properly lies only in the heart of each individual painter, and dont let anyone tell you different u_u) any ribbons will be attached to, and then the abaddon black I planned to use on the joint-bits showing through the armor, any tubing, and the Iron Sights on the guns, because Im Insane -__- I would MOSTLY follow this plan, but not entirely u_u u_u u_u

So, using This brush

I applied the white-layer, and here's Sarge to show how that looked

Pretty Spiffy! This was, I think, after the 2nd coat, and unfortunately a mouldline managed to survive through my ministrations on this one |:T It's not a HUGE deal; it disappeared as I built up layers.

I didn't find the white PHYSICALLY difficult to work with as others warned(it pretty much went where I wanted it too and didn't slink around), but it DID take me awhile to figure out the proper paint-water ratio with the brush, and I had a really hard time seeing it on the palette. Also, most painting vids will tell you to paint in "two thin coats" of each color, both to avoid globbing/unruly paint and to get a smoother, fuller finish without visible paintstrokes, but I ended up doing... A LOT of coats on these. Somewhere between 4 and 6 per model, and some sections maybe even more. Probably should have taken notes in my memopad during the painting for the sake of later accuracy :p :p That MIGHT have been the paint, it might have also been me using the wrong brush(I felt it worked fine, but it's a little short and bristly and its possible that's meant as a drybrush) but honestly it felt more like a combination of my learning how to properly work with the paint and my obsessive meticulousness. Building up progressive thin layers to a creamy full coat was... Satisfying OuO

Also, obvsl, I really struggled with workflow on this bit. My idea was to do All The Armor on one, then All The Armor on the next, etc etc, but I kept both circling back to sections I wasn't satisfied with AND forgetting sections I intended to paint with that approach which is BAD cuz you need to give the paint time to set; it was simply Too Broad a remit for my brain's Tendencies and I needed to pare it down. I would Form Resolves, considering this.

This step was my longest; my painting times have been deeply uneven day-to-day, but I'd say I easily spent 8 hours spread over 2.5 just on this. Again: I AM VERY DETAIL ORIENTED AND FINICKY: most ppl would NOT take this long on the primary base coat on their minis, even using white paint(which I'm pretty sure I was thinning down WAY too much at the start), and nor should they. But: I got the results I wanted, gained valuable experience with the paint and brush, and realized I needed to think harder about my workflow to get it Efficient. Also I think the black-grey-white tonal I used for the priming may have been too dark for such a bright scheme, but I'll get into that in my concluding/future projects post.

Once I was satisfied with the white coat, I turned to the yellow, and a different brush

This fellow. It's a longer brush, but the tip is finer and I thought that would help with the more detailed work. Generally I feel it worked well, tho there were moments where I or it slipped, and it painted where I didn't want it to. Not to worry! The base layer's just the start and touchup is always possible later. If, in your painting, you do get paint where you dont want you can either just paint over it once it dries with the color you like or, if you're fast enough and have a clean brush handy, try to swipe some of that paint off onto a brush, or even push some water into it to dilute it.

Immediately I recognized that Imperial Fist was too thin for what I wanted, especially with the prime I'd given it. tl;dr: Imperial Fist is a "Contrast Paint" and Contrast paints are a new line by GW meant to compete with "speedpaint" lines from other manufacturers which,building from a full-white prime, allow you to quickly paint up allot of figures. As thin paints(practically inks and nearly washes, imo) they settle into the recesses of the model giving you, as the name implies, good Contrasts and gradients across the model as a whole with just a few coats of a single color, and eliminating the need for lots of shading thereby. Imperial Fist just did not work with the prime I had. I thought this might be the case(despite some of the GW painting guides I'd found reccing it) so I bought a backup yellow which I now turned to:

Yriel yellow was much thicker, though "cooler" and not as red/orange/redgold a yellow as I really want for this scheme(IF absolutely has that sort of punch). I decided to give it a shot though, and it worked fine.

As I began to paint, I put my Resolves from the white layer into action. I would start painting section-by-section model-to-model (ie left shoulder on all of them, then right shoulder, then gun, etc etc). This approach worked allot better, for Me: it helped me to stay focused on One Thing and to move btwn the miniatures, letting each layer lay as it lie, knowing I could come back to "fix" any issues I had with it once dry, and preventing me from endlessly circling one model, trying to get everything Just So. Also: I began to move the minis from one side of the workspace to the other as I finished a layer, which helped me to keep track of which ones were done and which ones still needed work, and gave a satisfyingly tactile, concrete, and repetitive aspect to my progression. I feel like this approach would have sped up the white layer SIGNIFICANTLY.

It took about 3-4 coats until I was satisfied with the intensity of color on thier shoulders and the sergeant's helmet...

...and that was when I decided to do their guns in yellow too. GW aims for a bit of a 'Tacticool' aesthetic these days and as such the guns tend to be dark and metallic, but back when I first started following the hobby they were much more colorful and cartoony(with DANGER STRIPES, Even!), and I thought it'd be kind of a waste of that great yellow to just put it on the shoulders, and and I always preferred that more colorful approach anyway, so I painted the gun casings too :> :>

...and THEN I decided to paint their knees, also, in this yellow, cuz why not >:> >:> >:> Sometimes having one knee painted in the secondary color is used as a rank signifier for Spice Mariners, but I didn't care and different chapters do thing different all the time so It's Fine.

... and THEN-then, I decided the circle bits at the ankle of Primaris marine boots would look Neat in that yellow, too, so I painted THAT yellow also >:D >:D AND the matching interior circles >:D

Then, glutted with my POWA, I took some pics maniacally giggling ONLY SLIGHTLY:

Starting to come together >:> >:> I thought this looked really nice, but I still wanted that reddish PUNCH the Imperial Fist yellow had, and it occurred to me that, seeing as it looked like a wash and ACTED like a wash, I might as well try USING IT as a wash, so I did! And this is after that:

I think that IF contrast wash really gave the yellow bits a fuller, warmer, Snappier tone ^v^ ^v^ ^v^ Or at least I hope so: again, the pics are pretty blurry in the editor so idk how they look to y'all.

Anyway! I think I'll stop there for today cuz this post is Huge and has lots of pictures in it. Basecoats part 2 will include the Accents, All of the 8its, and also the Metallics :> :> Seeya then ^v^

[sunshinejihyun]

Hi! This is for the matchup! Tysm for doing such a lovely event! 💖 I'm a design student and i love doing anything related to art ( painting, sewing, drawing etc ) i loove cats & can be a bit of a perfectionist at times. I have high expectations of myself & im sensitive to people's emotions, so I'm always giving advice to others. I love to goof around and play games, but can be very serious if need be. I won't hesitate to call out someone's bad behaviour but also know when to keep quiet. TYSM!

Your match is Saeyoung! I chose Saeyoung because I just feel like he’d be so fascinated with the fact that you love art. He’d love watching you and finds it calming. You both also have some of the same sort of feelings. Saeyoung has very high expectations of himself and is very aware of the people around him. He’s also got such a goofy side to him, even if that does have to do with a coping mechanism that he uses.

Some headcanons about you two

I mentioned that he found watching you draw made him calm so you’d help him draw something some time and it’d literally be his favorite thing ever

Saeyoung would be the type of person who wants you around him all the time

He just loves your energy and loves the way he feels around you

Video game dates (especially ones that included LOLOL) would be crashed by Yoosung but it’s okay because you both loved Yoosung a lot

Since you sew, he’d always ask you to help him make new cosplay outfits

And halloween??? You two would win every costume contest because your costumes would be so good but so unique that everyone else couldn’t help but adore them

If you ever needed help studying, he would 100% put aside anything he was doing to help

But in all honesty, Yoosung and you would be study buddies

Short drabble

“Can we have a kid?” You were sitting on Saeyoung’s lap as he played with your hair when he asked that question.

“We don’t need one,” you laughed. “We have Saeran.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled pressing a kiss to your neck. “I want to start a family.”

You hummed as you pulled his head back up so his eyes met yours. “I’m not sure about a kid yet, but what about an animal?”

You watched as Saeyoung’s eye widened and his jaw dropped slightly. “MC. Can. We. Get. A. Cat??”

“Well, we’re not dog people, are we?!” You asked, laughing loudly as Saeyoung squeezed you tightly. “We can go looking this weekend!”

“This weekend?” Saeyoung pulled you off the couch and tugged your hand excitedly. “We have to go. Right now!”  You giggled as he ran around grabbing a light jacket for you to wear and practically helped shove your feet into some slip on shoes. “Get a move on, darling!”

You quickly followed after him as he grabbed his car keys to his current favorite baby, soon to be replaced by a cat. “Saeyoung, calm down! There will still be cats there if we go tonight or days later.”

“Buuuuuut MC,” Saeyoung pouted and you pressed a kiss to his jutted out lip. “I just want a cat to give all my love to. Please?”

With those words, you felt the last of your resolve fall. “Well what are you waiting for? We’re in the car, aren’t we?” At your words, Saeyoung quickly put the car in drive and all but speed his way over to the nearest animal adoption center. “You seem well prepared,” you remarked and he beamed at you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to offer to get a cat with me I’ve been very excited.” He grabbed your hand and quietly led you inside and you could almost feel his body vibrating with excitement.

“Good afternoon guys,” a kind worker with navy blue hair greeted you. “Are you here to adopt today?”

“Yes, we were looking to adopt a cat.” You explained to her as Saeyoung dropped your hand and walked over to a few cats who were playing in a playpen. “We’re not really picky though, we just want to be able to help a cat find a forever home.”

“Okay, well you’re welcome to take a look around. There’s a few over there in that playpen but there’s also some more in the back.” You nodded and started to make your way over to Saeyoung. As he heard your footsteps, he turned around with a grin on his face. He was holding a small orange tabby cat with yellow/gold eyes and purring obnoxiously loud as your boyfriend scratched at the cat’s chin.

“Babe! Look I think he likes me!” Saeyoung exclaimed and you put your hand out to the cat, letting it sniff you before patting it’s head softly. When you stopped, it licked your hand until you started again, making Saeyoung laugh. “And I think he likes you too!”

“Well, it’s seems you’re already very smitten.” You laughed as Saeyoung gently put the cat in your arms. “Oh my gosh this is the cutest thing ever I have to take a picture this is going to be my phone background forever.” Despite your protests, Saeyoung managed to take about 15 pictures with the cat who was currently very happy sitting in your arms. “I think we found our cat?” Saeyoung questioned hopefully, leaning down to brush his nose against the tabby’s pink one.

“Seems so,” you agreed, looking down at the both of them fondly.

As you continued to hold the cat, Saeyoung went to go fill out the adoption paperwork and purchase things you would need to become the best cat parents possible. “What should we name this little fella?” Saeyoung asked as you buckled into the car, the baby crawling over the consul to crawl into his lap.

You thought for a moment. “Pepper.”

Saeyoung giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not? Pepper’s can be orange and you love PhD. Pepper.” You explained as you grabbed onto the kitten, struggling to keep the wiggle worm in your arms as Saeyoung drove home.

When you two settled onto the couch with Pepper, Saeran came out of his room and smiled as he spot the cat. “We got an animal?”

As soon as he sat down next to Saeyoung, Pepper jumped into his lap and curled up, purring loudly again. You giggled as you watched the two twins and cat snuggle close together. “You know, Pepper kinda looks like you guys.”

“He can be the honorary Choi triplet.” Saeyoung laughed and leaned over to get in his face. “You want to be the triplet, huh buddy?”

“SAEYOUNG CHOI YOU BETTER NOT SQUEEZE PEPPER TOO HARD!” You screamed as your boyfriend took the cat from his brothers lap and held him to his chest tightly.

“You guys are going to be horrible parents.” Saeran laughed as he got up and returned to his room.

“Someday we’ll be amazing parents.” Saeyoung told you. “But not today.”

[vincent-frankenstein]

The Smallest of Moments

Summary: "Love, Logan learns, lives in the smallest of moments.

It isn’t born of gold and silver, thornless roses, words painted like the sunset across a glorious scene, as Roman believes; nor is it darkness and dread, swirling agony and hopeless belief in a happy ending just out of reach, as Virgil claimed. It is simple; nonexistent one moment, and there the next, so warm and so filling one can hardly believe they had ever lived without it."

Pairing: Logince (ft. platonic analogical and logicality)

Warnings: none 

Taglist: @joygaytrash @ruh-roh-emer-has-an-account @aliferous-ly @im-crunchie @triton-bear @emiisanidiot @jemthebookworm

(prompt belongs to @aliferous-ly <3 <3)

Love, Logan learns, lives in the smallest of moments.

It isn’t born of gold and silver, thornless roses, words painted like the sunset across a glorious scene, as Roman believes; nor is it darkness and dread, swirling agony and hopeless belief in a happy ending just out of reach, as Virgil claimed. It is simple; nonexistent one moment, and there the next, so warm and so filling one can hardly believe they had ever lived without it.

Logan lived without it. Of course, love is hardly a definable thing; he certainly hadn’t been devoid of it entirely. He has familial love — Patton is like a father, warmth and light and, most certainly, love. And Virgil — his best friend, his brother, more than constitutes the concept of platonic love. He shares a soul, a life, with Thomas; could that not be considered love? This web of warmth and light and life tied between them, surrounding them, enveloping them; he’d never been without it.

But love was a many-faced thing, as nebulous and vague as the cosmos themselves; and though he’d experienced much of it, he had yet to discover that grand, golden finale. He had yet to learn what it was like — to love and be loved in return in that most effervescent way, that elysian dream that inspires countless poems and countless souls. Through his research — and his longing, that ever-present tug held deep in his very core that yearns to know — romantic love becomes something of a deity; something bigger, greater, than anything he’s ever known before.

And that is his first mistake.

He watches for greatness and misses the little things — the smiles meant just for him, nicknames tossed fondly through heated debates; actions torn between platonic and romantic, too ambiguous to be noticed, too important to be ignored. He waits for the sort of dawning sunrise he’s read about and doesn’t realize as it twirls, diaphanous, around him. An oversight on his part; a mistake.

But you can learn from mistakes. And Logan learns.

He learns in the smallest of moments. It’s not big, or grand; it’s a kitchen at midday. It’s calm. It’s quiet. Virgil sits perched on the arm of the couch, absently scrolling on his phone. Patton bustles around him with a spring in his step and a song on his tongue and a duster in his hands. 

And Logan retrieves a  box of shortbread cookies from the cabinet and then, with all the reverence of a man unearthing something sacred, something blessed — he pulls a jar of Crofter’s from the fridge. Excitement bubbles in his chest and he pushes it down, regaining his composure with a practiced ease. He tucks the box of cookies beneath his arm and starts back towards his room, twisting a hand across the jar’s lid.

It doesn’t budge. He tries again — and again, and again, frustration tingeing his excitement a cold, deep blue as he slows to a stop halfway up the stairs. How vexatious. His nose twitches as he strains against the lid, but it remains resolute in barring him from his fruit spread. He’s about to turn around to run it under some hot water when —

“Having trouble?”

Roman stands at the top of the staircase, leaning against the banister with all the casual grace in the world. His sword hangs, gleaming, by his side. “Roman,” Logan says, by way of acknowledgment. His hands lower, drawing the jar in, towards his chest. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Roman lifts a brow, a teasing lilt to his smirk, and Logan realizes where he’s standing. “Ah. My apologies.” He shifts to the side, opening the stairs to allow Roman to pass. Roman doesn’t pass.

Roman strides down the four stairs separating them with a languid grace, his tall, willowy frame bending to see eye-to-eye with Logan. Without a word, he snatches the jar from Logan’s hands, and Logan yelps indignantly. “Roman, I don’t have time for this!” he says, swiping for the jar. Roman lifts it high above his head, far out of reach.

“Calm down, Al-short Einstein,” Roman says with a teasing scoff, folding his arm over Logan’s head to lean on him. Logan sucks in a sharp breath, eyes narrowing, a venomous retort forming on his tongue —

Pop!

“There you go.” Roman grins, offering him the open jar of jam. Logan blinks and takes it, holding it to his chest. He blinks again — once, twice, as something curls in his stomach. It feels like the sound of an orchestra warming up; swirling flutes and sweeping violins, discordant and vague but beautiful all the same. It buzzes with potential. 

“Thank you,” Logan says. Roman laughs, standing up.

“Anything for my damsel in distress. Now then! Patton!” He claps once and brushes past Logan, flitting down the stairs towards the common room. Logan turns without meaning to, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches him go. The violins swell; the orchestra begins to play.

Oh.

It’s not grand, or golden. It’s two people on a staircase with a jar of jelly, a grin and a blush and a laugh like dripping honey. It’s not much. It’s nothing.

It’s everything.

Logan’s heart skips a beat. Color rushes to his cheeks. The orchestra plays through his chest — you’ve found it, the piano sings with each resounding note, you’ve found it, you’ve found it. That impossible goal, that diaphanous bond, now twists and stretches around his soul, tinted crimson and gold. 

And it’s warmth and light in ways he’s never felt before, settling deep in his chest like it was always meant to be there. It’s happiness and hope and something more, something deeper and softer.

It’s love.

[superhero-daugthers11]

She smiled and grinned. "Yeah I guess your right. Well at least we can enjoy some late night tv together."

A few weeks later Amy was having a sleepover with her four friends. The girls sit in Amy's room in their PJs with curlers in their hair and make up skattered all over the floor. Some of the girls shimmed through the magazines while others were doing make overs. There was a total of four girls including Amy, not a big group, but the girls were close at heart. Amy's friend, Mary struggled to straighten Amy's naturally curly hair. Amys face was decorated with make up and both girls had freshly painted nails. They were all laughing and sharing stories. While popular music of the decade played on the radio. Amy felt at peace with them, she felt calm and happy. No stress or worries just a good night with the girls. She knew nights like this would be the sort of thing she would miss the most.

"Aims, we will miss you so much when leave school." Mary spoke, as she brushed Amy's hair. "It won't be the same without you. I will have no one to go to for fashion advice or to talk Star Wars with."

"or anyone to best up your bullies for you." another friend, Anna, teased.

"Hey it's not like I'm dying we will still get to hang out.I told you guys I will visit as much as I can. I'm getting my driver's license soon and so is Anna so we can visit each other easy. " Amy told them,not wanting to give up on the hope that both lives could co exist. Although she knew her mother was right and she would have to pick one or the other. She also didn't want to hurt her friends by telling them she might not see them after the move.

"You better visit! Every weekend and on holiday breaks!" Her friend, janice remarked. "We are practically sisters we can't abandon each other!"

Amy's heart sank and she held back tears.

"I will miss you guys too. " Amy replied solemly. "But my new school is a good opportunity for me. It's much more advanced and graduating from there is going to look so much better for colleges. "

"Were happy for you but we just don't want to lose you." Anna spoke.

"I don't want lose you guys either. You guys are the best friends I every had. No one get me better than you guys. You guys do mean alot to me. Its just this school is going to be really intense and there will be alot of pressure with this school. I want to do well so I will be putting everything into it. It's going to be alot of emotions with this move and the school work will be extreme. Just be patient with me okay? If Im not around as much don't give up on me. I will do what I can to keep in touch and drive out here. But if I get in too deep-"

"if you get into deep, don't shut us out!" Mary remarked. "Let us help you. That's what friends are for. Every time you have a problem you distance yourself but friends are meant to help each other through problems."

"definitely, you guys are there for me when Dawson broke up with me." Janice spoke. "Remember we burned his pictures and watched romantic comedies. Honestly it made me so happy to have you guys around, it even made me forget him for a bit. Keep in contact and tell us if the stress gets to be too much we can try to fix it together. "

"I don't think you can know much about my schooling, there very secertice about their methods."

"you still tell us how you feel." Anna answered. "We will help you get through no matter what."

Amy gave a small smile. "You guys are the best."

superhero-daugthers11​:

peggys-orders​:

The question itself came as somewhat of a shock. After nearly a day at loggerheads with her eldest child, Peggy was unprepared to tell her daughter what she might have done.

After all, her own youth had been in a different time. She’d been as much running from as running towards something. Hindsight gave her the benefit of knowledge that her accomplishments had been meaningful to others beyond herself, so to give that up and go back to take another path seemed utterly selfish.

Though on the other hand, for her it had become less an equation of self-actualization than it was one of care for those around her. The job had cost her family a great deal. There were attempts on her life, some more close to success than she’d have liked to admit, and it was difficult to raise children in an environment with such an elevated threat level.

As a mother, it bothered her that the greater good had taken precedence more often than not. Almost like she’d overcompensated in that department to cover the lack of outward thinking in her longtime partner Howard Stark.

The spy in her would have been bored to tears raising a family in suburban obscurity.

In the end, Peggy liked the job, and she was damned good at it.

“If it were me, I’d do it all over again. But what you must do is to decide the path that fits you best. My own mother tried to force me onto another path that would have given me neither joy nor a sense of accomplishment. If I’d not done what I did, I would not have had you. Or your father. Or Philip. And while I know that I have not always been an ideal mother, or an ideal intelligence operative, I can’t imagine any life but this one.”

She smiled and nodded. “I could understand that. The chocies you make you who are. Undoubtedly if you had choosen a different path you would have a very different life than this. I guess that’s why it’s been so hard for me to make a choice. I know whatever I decided I will be giving up alot as well.” She made a big sigh. “Well thanks to you I have some time to think about it. Maybe we should start this day over and try to have fun.”

Long ago, she’d promised herself when she held her infant daughter that she would not be the sort of mother she’d had. She would give her little girl the space and confidence to grow into whatever she might want to become.

She knew, deep down, what Amelia would choose to do with her life. Until that time, though, Peggy was determined to give her at least a measure of the fun she would be giving up in the time that remained before her training program resumed.

Already it seemed her daughter had a wisdom she could only wish she’d had at the same tender age.

“It’s a little late for that,” Peggy noted, glancing pointedly at the grandfather clock. “But we can enjoy what’s left of the evening. Ed Sullivan’s about to start, and you know how I adore that Topo Gigio.”