#technically? i’m not one to draw ship art usually but this one’s close enough i think

[mangozic]

my dead goth son and his friendly neighborhood personified concept of insanity

[purplesurveys]

1120

[created by: vyvyan86]

What do you do for work? I work at a public relations agency, so I handle servicing for a good number of clients across different industries. PR is basically like the extroverted sibling of journalism; and since I turned out to not enjoy journ, I gave PR a try halfway through my time in college and ended up liking it more.

What would you ideally like to do for work? I actually really enjoy what I do, like getting to work directly with big local and even international brands. I’m glad I made the decision to make the career shift because I can’t imagine how miserable I would be in a newsroom.

What are you doing in order to achieve this? I’m already where I want to be, at least for now. I don’t see it changing any time soon because I’m nowhere near tired of the work yet.

What is the meaning of your life? What is it that you really live for? Erm I don’t really try to define it or have an answer to this right away because I feel like it puts a lot of unwanted pressure on me, by me. As long as I’m satisfied in the present, I shouldn’t be worrying for whom or what my life is ultimately supposed to be.

Have you ever REALLY thought what it means to have children? Yup. Having kids would be the perfect life, but realistically speaking I am not at all ready to start that particular chapter. I don’t make enough money to be able to build a family, and I’ve never even tried changing a diaper yet...then you have to think about weekly formulas, what school to enroll them in, building a nursery...it’s all very hectic and stressful and it’s definitely not a priority as of the moment.

Are you planning to have children anyway? It would be nice, but I still don’t know if it’s in my future.

What is the most awful thing about the world today? I doooooooooon’t understand racism. It’s those videos of white people being caught on tape harassing POCs without a care in the world that get to me the most. It’s horrifying and it’s made me have close to zero plans to travel to the places where the videos usually come from. It’s happened too many times and too many clips have gone viral, that I can’t help but think it would happen to me and my family as well. What do you think is the worst being on the planet? Abusive and/or neglectful parents.

Have you ever been arrested? If so, what for? Nopes.

Have you ever been in court? If so, in which role? Definitely not.

Which do you think is a more valuable being, a human or an animal? I don’t think it’s fair to compare. A life is a life.

What, in your opinion, will cause the end of the world? I’m gonna let science answer this and refer to whatever predictions they have for the future based on their calculations. 

What does your mother do for work? She works in an international hotel chain as an executive secretary, but work is actually kind of slippery for her at the moment because of Covid. There are only certain days in the week where she’s called in to report for work, and there is a chance those requests will stop coming in at a certain point.

^If she's a homemaker, any specific reason for this? She’s not anymore but she did enjoy a brief period of being a homemaker after resigning from her previous workplace back in likeeeee 2013 I’d say? which according to her had increasingly turned into a toxic environment after 20+ years of working there.

What about your father? What does he do? He is an executive sous chef. Cruise ship industry, so his situation is also actually quite bleak. Fortunately the job security with his company is a lot stronger and more guaranteed.

How do you like your coffee? I like it sweet and for its color to be light brown.

If you're of age, what's your favorite alcoholic drink? Tequila shots if we’re going hard. Long Island Iced Tea or Zombie if I’m looking to have a chill session with friends. Red Horse is fine as well, whatever. I hate beer with a passion but I’d drink it if everyone in the table is having a bottle.

If you're under-aged, what is your favorite soft drink? Bold of you to assume all minors like soda hahaha. I don’t, though.

Do you smoke? Yeah, just super seldom though because I don’t want to form a habit. I had the opportunity to last Friday but voluntarily skipped out on it, but that was also because I already had a vape pen on me.

^If so, did you start when you were 18 or were you younger? My first cigarette was when I was 21. Start of 2020.

Did your parents approve of your smoking/alcohol use before you turned 18? They wouldn’t have approved of it at all. And I wouldn’t have let myself either.

Do you have siblings? If not, skip the next few questions. Yeup.

Are you eldest, in the middle or youngest? I’m the eldest of two siblings.

How big an age gap is between you and your siblings? With my sister, 2 years. With my brother, 5 years.

Do/did your siblings cause trouble? Not at all, actually. We were all well-behaved, aka the three of us were always too shy to do anything bad or mischevious. I guess the biggest issues with each of us were - I was very messy with my stuff and ignored all my homework; Nina was a crybaby and would get into tears over literally any inconvenience; and my brother was a violent crybaby, which means he is Nina but always ready to punch you in the face, kick you in the neck or stomach, scream into your ear, etc.

If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? My sister is taking up digital filmmaking in an art school; my brother is only in his junior year of high school.

Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? I’m not jealous of her, but Nina is amazing at art and drawing and painting and all that stuff and I always wish I shared even like 1/98th of her skills, hahah.

Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? I live with my family, yeah. I’m nowhere near ready to start being on my own.

What do you think about growing up? Like what Paramore said (heheh), has to happen sometimes.

What about having responsibilities? I don’t really think anything of them? They’re kind of expected.

Do you know how to cook? Nope.

^If so, what's your favorite thing to cook? I don’t know how to make anything yet, but some dishes I would love to be able to master are risotto and paella. I’d also love to inherit my grandma’s kare-kare recipe but I’m already 300% sure from this early that I’ll never be able to make it as good as she does.

What about baking? I also can’t bake but some stuff I’d want to learn how to make are cupcakes, macarons, cheesecake, and a chocolate chip cookie recipe so good that my kids would literally bring their friends over to our house just to make them try it.

Do you ever drink tea? Iced tea for the most part. If I do ever drink the traditional hot tea, it’s usually because it’s served either at a hotel I’m staying at, or at an Asian restaurant.

Have you ever followed any of these fad diets that go around? I don’t follow a diet. I’m usually open to trying out foods that are packaged to fall under a certain diet, though – paleo, keto, etc. - just to experience how much different it could possibly taste from the food I typically have.

What do you usually order at your favorite restaurant? I usually get rosu, a type of tonkatsu cut that has a lining of fat on its side. My favorite restaurant then provides unlimited rice, miso soup, and cabbage with my order.

Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? Not necessarily. I love a lot of either.

What's your dream vehicle? A Mini Countryman.

What about your dream house? I don’t have an exact image of it yet, but I always said that my dream house, wherever and whatever it might be, must have a room for all the wrestling memorabilia I plan to collect in the future. It’ll be like a ~mancave~  as I also plan to have a couch and a big TV in it so I can watch documentaries and pay-per-views there.

What is the biggest dream of your life? Right now, I would say the ‘biggest’ - since I’ve established it since I was a kid - is to go to the 50th installment of Wrestlemania, which is like the Superbowl of wrestling. This year it’ll be the 37th, so I have 13 years left to plan the dream out and save up and stuff.

If you could travel to another country right now, where would you go? Morocco.

What is a country you'd never ever visit? There isn’t a country I wouldn’t want to visit at least once. I’d probably avoid the ones that have dangerous political situations or are literally at war at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to step foot in them.

Are you good at taking care of your finances? I’m getting there! I was able to have a good amount of savings this month :) My finances were shit for the first two months of my job because there was immediately soooooooo much to pay for, but I’m glad everything is on track now.

Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? Well no, because I don’t pay my own yet. I do hand a portion of my allowance to my parents every payday so that I can help out with the family bills, though.

What about your rent? We don’t have rent.

What do you think is the best thing about being an adult? The freedom that comes with it is very empowering. I don’t technically have to ask permission to go out with friends anymore, or be scared of a curfew (but my mom still imposes one, LOL. It’ll mellow it within time though, I’m sure); I make my own money and can spend it however way I want while the rest I can save; I can take a drive or book an entire trip altogether as long as I can afford it...it’s letting me get to know myself even more, in a way that college and my teenage years weren’t able to do.

What about the worst? Being expected to have my shit together when I’m very clueless still about so many things in life. I make fuckups at work at least once a week and I always feel like I’m going to get fired with every mistake, lol.

Is there a person in your life, who wastes their life somehow? Hmm, I don’t think so. I have an uncle who had seemed to be headed nowhere before, but I think he’s slowly getting back on track. I think. At least I don’t hear anything about him anymore.

^If so, how are they wasting their life? Never had a stable job, was a neglectful husband and father (I think he still is), was never able to secure a house and even a car for his family, and deals with his problems by drinking...and worse, drunk-driving, sometimes. It’s an embarrassment and I don’t care if my grandma tells me off for giving him the cold shoulder every family gathering. I’m not gonna get close to someone who negatively affects my mood and my energy.

What is something you need to do, but you keep postponing it? Getting a new pair of glasses. Booking an appointment is a Newly-Unlocked Adult Thing that I’ve never done yet, so I’m nervous and I keep putting it off, hahaha.

Do you think life should just hand things to you? Not at all.

Or should you earn the things you want and need with hard work? Yeah, there you go.

Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? Earn on my own, as much as possible. But some balance would be nice as well so that I can start feeling as if the government is actually helping and serving me.

When you take a survey, do you skip questions? Typically, no. But some of the older ones I’ve seen made by, like, 15 year olds of the time will have nonsense, downright immature, or lowkey racist/homophobic questions that I will have no problem deleting altogether as I think no one here would have any interest in answering them either.

Why, do you think, people write lyrics as the title for a survey? To be creative and catchy, I guess. And it works - I do tend to click on surveys that use lyrics.

If you have a Facebook, what do you use it for? Look for things to share, mainly. I’m fully back on it now after going a way for a bit to do some healing on my own.

If you have a Twitter, what do you use it for? As a space to let out literally all my thoughts and brianfarts. No one cares on Twitter, so it’s the perfect space to make a mess and be a mess.

If you have a Tumblr, what do you use it for? I used to have a wrestling-themed Tumblr (and before that, many more other themed Tumblrs), but when my interest died down I soon switched to using Tumblr for my surveys and being more lowkey altogether on here.

If you have an iPhone, why? I find it easier to use, and I like the interface more. The camera’s features are also more to my liking.

If you have an iPad, why? We have a really old model of it, and we bought that because iPads were all the rage at the time. It had been the newest concept from Apple and most people felt they had to have one, including my family. We definitely don’t feel the need to get another tablet anytime soon since it just functions like a giant phone for the most part.

If you have the latest electronic gadgets, did you pay for them yourself? I’ve never paid for a gadget before.

Do you always put your litter in a trashcan? Of course. I know how to pick up after myself like a respectful human. < Yup.

When you walk/ride your bike/drive your car, are you careful? Yeah, unless I’m mad. Sometimes road rage will take over me tbh, especially if other people on the road have been stupid for quite some time.

What is the rudest thing a person could do or say to you? Something phobic after seeing Jess and I together. < This reminds me of when my ex and I used to get stares or whispers in public. But to be honest, I actually enjoyed those encounters because it only served as fuel for me to get even more affectionate and piss them off more, lol. Good times. 

Anyway, the rudest thing I can think of at the moment is being cut while in line. Some people do it so subtly too, and their shy, careful shuffle to get in front of me is what irritates me the most because THEY KNOW they’re doing something shitty and yet are being so sneaky about it.

Have you ever been that rude to someone else? I have never cut in line, never will.

Do you think your parents are proud of you and what you do with your life? I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t know if they’re expecting me to move out at this point, but I hope they’re at least proud of the fact that their first kid managed to land a job, especially considering we’re living in Covid times.

Which would you rather be, famous or a "nobody"? Why? Can’t I be somewhere in between? When it boils down to it, I’d probably go with being a nobody...I’d miss the socialization and having friends, but at least it means I can get away with more.

Do you need to have the latest fashion in clothes and accessories? It would be nice, but I’m not desperate to have them.

If you have a job, do you get along with your co-workers? Yeah, I’d say so. I definitely have never fought with anyone yet. It’s hard to gauge my relationship with each of them because I entered the workplace while we’re under WFH so I’ve only gotten to talk to most of them through Viber; but so far, so good.

What kind of hobbies do you have? I like traveling and learning, so anything that’s got to do with those - going to museums, visiting ancestral houses, trying local art forms - I would definitely dive into. But if I’m not in a new province or country altogether, I like trying out new food and new restaurants, embroidering, watching my favorite shows, coloring, painting, and reading essays about history. :)

Would anything in the whole world make you give up any of those hobbies? I’m not super attached to painting anymore, so I guess.

Have you had/do you have any pets? I currently have two dogs. In the past we’ve had a cat, a rabbit, two birds, and several goldfish.

Do you even like animals? I love them, except insects.

If you aren't already, would you ever get married? It would be a nice thing to tick off my life event list.

If you are already married, what was the ultimate reason for the marriage? -

As a child, did you do anything really bad? I was raised in a highly violent household with the worst influences as my elders. Yes, I managed to squeeze in some horrible stuff when no one was looking.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? I was violent towards my brother but won’t get into it. The only thing I’ll mention is that I used to chase him around with a knife whenever he’d start becoming too much of a headache.

As a teenager, did you do anything really bad? I don’t think so. I was well-traumatized and abused by the time I was a teenager so I was afraid of fucking anything up and being in more trouble.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? The worst thing I did was lie about my performance in school, honestly. Which, looking back now, doesn’t even seem like a big deal considering I was only in high school then and grades from there barely matter.

Do you have a problem with authority? Nope. Well, a good number of my teachers didn’t seem to like me for some reason. I’d say it’s their problem though since I never did anything to raise hell in school, ever.

What's your favorite comic strip? I don’t have one.

Is there a piece of clothing you absolutely must wear every day Underwear... < Yep.

Has a doctor ever told you to lose weight? No. I’ve always been on the lighter side so that has never been a comment given to me by anyone.

Have you ever been diagnosed with a lifelong disease? Isn’t scoliosis a lifelong thing? If it is, then yes I have been.

What is something you absolutely hate? Fruits.

What about something you absolutely love? Seafood! Which is why I have spicy tuna salad and dynamite rolls with me at the moment :)

[izzy-b-hands]

Marks

Another piece of what I’m calling the San Francisco AU for Papillon and Dega. Just a small snippet, but now that I’m working from home I’m trying to get out more smaller pieces as I can, and possibly longer stuff on the weekend if I can manage it (for any ship, no guarantees, but if nothing else I want to keep posting one shots as much as I can!) 

They had a budget, a limit, and Louis had trusted him with it. This wasn’t even the top of the limit, yet he was shaking as he led Louis up the path to the front door. San Francisco was expensive, and he knew Louis knew that too, but still...

“If you hate it, we can still back out. I sign the last bit of paperwork tomorrow; we’d lose a little bit of money, not enough to stop me if you don’t want this.” 

Louis pulled the blindfold off, and took in the front of the house. It was small, but he thought it would be to Louis’ taste. 

“I like it.” 

The weight was only half gone off Papi’s shoulders with that. “Good. I’m glad. Now, the inside-” 

Louis was inside before he could get another word out, and he could see the disappointment in his shoulders as they slumped. 

“Well. A bit plain inside, but-” 

“That’s where you come in! If you want, I mean; I had an idea, is the thing,” Papi interrupted, and pulled Louis gently to the sitting room. “You could paint, if you wanted to, I thought...” 

He’d bought actual supplies, nothing like what Louis had been forced to use on Devil’s Island. No matter what Louis said, he knew how much he wanted to keep working on his art, though he rarely gave himself time to do it. 

“I’m not go-” 

“Don’t you say it,” Papi interrupted him again. “You are. And if you had to force me to choose only one way to decorate our home, and it was between your art and anything else, I would choose your art. Every time.” 

Louis smiled, but it was a nervous one as he glanced about the many blank white walls. “This will take ages though, surely-” 

“I can be patient, especially when I know it will be well worth it,” Papi didn’t want to keep interrupting Louis, but he could just hear the excuses Louis had floating about his head to stop himself from being able to do this, to have fun making their house beautiful. 

“And what will I tell my job?” 

“This doesn’t all need to be done in a week, or a month, or even a year. You don’t work weekends, and if you want, a day off to stay at home and paint if you want or even just, you know, relax, would be good for you.” 

Louis nodded. “Okay.” 

“To the painting? Or to just the house?” 

“To all of it,” Louis replied softly, kneeling down to inspect the various paints and brushes on the sitting room floor. “Can I start tomorrow night?” 

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Of course. As soon as we get home.” 

“What about our things?” 

“I can move all that,” Papi said. It was no second thought to him, and he was more than happy to move everything they owned while Louis painted. 

“Even the couch?” 

Papi nodded. 

“The couch that the two of us couldn’t get in the apartment alone?” 

He nodded again.

“The couch that we had to get three strangers off the street to help us fit into the apartment because of how awkward and heavy it was?” 

“Louis,” Papi sighed. “I’ll be fine.” 

Louis shook his head and laughed as he stood back up and turned to Papi. “Let me help with the couch, at least. I can’t paint if I’m taking you to the hospital because you’ve hurt yourself moving it.” 

“If you insist,” Papi said. “But you could do a mural of our moving in, and include that in it.” 

“Oh yes, the grand mural on the first wall when you come in,” Louis snickered. “Yes, here’s the bit where you can see my husband nearly breaking his back moving our couch.” 

That stopped him cold for a moment. “Husband?” 

They had exchanged rings, but neither had used the phrase, and they hadn’t really ever addressed why. For Papi, it was because he felt bad it wasn’t legal. He knew there wasn’t a way to make it so, but he knew Louis would have been happier if it could have been. He worried about things like death and how the other would survive after, if they would have access to each other’s funds and things, if their bodies could be released to one another to plan a funeral. Without marriage, legally, none of that could happen. So he didn’t use the word, to avoid making Louis think about it. 

“Yes,” Louis replied. “I should have been saying that long ago, even before we got the rings. I was...being silly. Wanting things we can’t have, and completely looking past all that we do have. Maybe it will be a mess, later on, when one of us...” 

He could tell Louis wanted to look away, but he didn’t. The tears sat in the corners of his eyes, but didn’t fall, and his gaze didn’t break. 

“Anyway. I’m sorry, for not using it sooner. And now, especially, I should be. My husband bought us a house!” 

“Technically we both bought a house,” Papi clarified. “You contributed just as much money as I did.” 

“True, but it could only be in one of our names, and it’s in yours,” Louis said, and brushed away the tears before nearly leaping into Papi’s arms. “So, my husband bought me a house.” 

“And my husband is going to make it beautiful,” Papi murmured as he gave Louis a soft kiss. “Can you believe they left this place so...” 

“Dull? Ugly? Boring? Blank?” 

“Yes,” Papi agreed. “There’s so much they could have done with this place.” 

“We’ll fix it,” Louis said. “I’ve got ideas...” 

**

And ideas he did have. The first night in their new home he spent covered in paint in the sitting room, the furniture (including their heavy couch) moved to the center to be out of the way. At first it was just patterns, nothing overwhelming, but at the same time eye-catching and enticing to sit and stare at, curlicues and circular moving lines, intersecting and crossing one another in a way that Papi knew had a great deal of thought and technique behind it, but he couldn’t explain it if he tried. They were in light yellow and green, the paint dotting Louis’ skin, a gorgeous contrast that marked him with his art, marked the house as theirs, a mark of not just ownership but love. 

In the weeks to follow, it was shocking how much he got done. Papi would watch Louis come home, only to give him a quick kiss before dashing to change into his painting clothes and racing into the latest room he was working on. He missed spending their evenings as they had done before (usually both with a book, laying across each other in a tangle on the couch until it was time for bed), but this was good too. 

It was like watching math in action, Papi thought. All calculated lines and structure, but that flowed so softly and loosely that you could forget the cold calculations behind it for a moment or two, and take in how it all came together. A room of butterflies in blue and purple in their bedroom, a mixture of stripes and eyes like those on the backs of butterfly wings in the dining room, abstract flowing lines through the kitchen that showed up in other rooms as well, tying one room to another as if Louis sought to stitch the house together. 

And it was utterly perfect, but he didn’t get a chance to tell Louis that until he finally reached the last room, much sooner than Papi had anticipated. 

“Before you go,” Papi said softly, gently grabbing Louis’ arm as he started to charge into the guest room. “I wanted to tell you-” 

“I can make any changes you want,” Louis said, and up went his hand to nervously adjust his already mis-adjusted glasses. 

“What? No,” Papi said. “I love it all. I wanted to tell you. I don’t know quite how you do it, like you do.” 

“You’ve done your fair share of art.” 

“Perhaps, but this is different,” Papi replied. “You got done in weeks what I figured would take at least a year. And it’s all gorgeous, and I don’t know how you made it all happen like you did. It seems effortless.” 

Louis giggled, and ran a hand through the soft curls he was finally growing out, at Papi’s persistence, the same curls he’d helped wash paint out of the past few weeks, when Louis somehow managed to get it on them. “Effortless is...a very kind thing to call it.” 

“I know you’ve worked incredibly hard,” Papi said. “But you make it look easy.” 

“Want to watch me finish up?” 

“I’d like that.” 

The guest room was rich, red and purple jewel tones with gold. It made him think of the lush wallpapers from the fancier hotels in Paris, though none of them could ever beat what Louis was doing. 

He’d again gone for butterflies, a theme that Papi more than loved, but this time a singular line of them, all shaped fully but connected and made with one purple line, flowing up and down in flight across the red walls, with gold accents upon them in unique designs. It was warm, and easy to get lost in as he laid on the bare mattress they’d tossed in the center of the room until they could afford to better furnish the guest room. He ended up too lost, too relaxed, so that he jumped when Louis dropped down next to him on the mattress suddenly. 

“You’re half asleep,” Louis teased. “Is watching me paint so boring?” 

Papi shook his head. “Soothing.” 

He could feel the half-dried spots of paint on Louis’ hands and all over his clothes as Louis snuggled in close to him, but he didn’t mind. On the contrary, he wanted it. To be marked, to be covered in the colors of their new home, their new life, finally getting on track like they’d always said it would be after they escaped. 

Louis would draw up the tattoo designs later. “Do you really want another butterfly tattoo?” Yes, he did, and he knew exactly how he wanted it. The line to create the butterfly on his body matched up to where the one making Louis’ started, so if they laid together, side by side, the lines flowed together, connecting them both, the same rich purple and gold from the guest room. 

Marks of their new life, there forever, long after the drops of paint would be cleaned from their skin. 

[thewritewolf]

The Search for Halloween Chapter 3: Dragon + Cheap Costume

Continuing in their quest to learn about Halloween, the gang goes out to buy costumes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 (Final)

@unusual-october

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi. Enjoy!

The art of this chapter by @noanieactuallydrawingalot

Marinette looked at herself in the full body mirror one last time. She tugged nervously at her skirt as her eyes roamed over every inch of her outfit. Everything needed to be as perfect as she could make it.

“Marinette,” Tikki said from just over her shoulder. “You look fine, but you will always find flaws if you look for them. Besides, you guys are just hanging out today, right?”

“I know, but…” She trailed off, her hands falling her sides.

But what? Her relationship with Adrien was better than ever, she could usually talk without stuttering now that she understood that underneath his cool exterior was a huge dork with a love of cat puns. When they were together, she felt at ease and she knew he felt the same way. It was just like it always had been when they were wearing the masks. But this build up, the moments where she was getting ready to see him… her heart fluttered and she felt like her nerves would be the death of her.

“Trust me. The hardest part is getting started.” Tikki rested on Marinette shoulder. “Just put one foot in front of the other. You’ll get there eventually!”

Scratching the top of her kwami’s head, Marinette said, “Thanks, Tikki. I think I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Let’s head downstairs while we wait.” She held open her purse and watched Tikki fly inside.

While she was going down the stairs, she checked the group chat. Apparently, Adrien was about to leave and he’d have the Gorilla swing around with the limo to pick everyone up. All she had to do was be ready to go when he got here…

...And since she was already ready, all that was left for her was waiting. Which did nothing for her frayed nerves.

Marinette was pulled out of her spiralling thoughts with the delicious smell of the pumpkins that they had carved a couple days ago. Which was surprising, since there were only two pumpkins still here and both of them were perched on her balcony outside. She followed the scent to the living room, and a platter of baked seeds between her parents.

She said with a frown, “You guys actually like those things?”

Her mom, who had been watching Tom play against his akumatized self in Max’s video game, looked over her shoulder at Marinette.

“Sweetheart, you ate plain, unseasoned seeds. Of course you didn’t like them!”

While Marinette winced at the slightly chastising tone (she really should have known that), she looked dubiously at the plate that was stacked high with baked pumpkin seeds. Admittedly, they smelled a lot more appetizing this time around.

“Go on, dear. Take some!”

Deciding to trust her parents, she tentatively took a single seed and had a bite. She relaxed as she took in the flavor. Much better than their attempt had been.

“Just in case you do this again, we used olive oil, salt, garlic powder, paprika, and black pepper.” Her mom took the plate back. “Now, you’d better save your appetite. I’m sure your friends will want to go out to eat today.”

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed. Her eyes widened at a text from Adrien saying that they were all outside.

With a quick goodbye to her parents, Marinette rushed out, anxieties forgotten as the Halloween spirit began to take hold.

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

The four of them quickly spread through the little costume shop, searching for suitable outfits for weekend plans. Alya was a couple rows away from Marinette when she heard her call out.

“Oh! Hey, Alya, I think I found something you’d like.”

Alya tracked her down to see Marinette holding up one of those old-style medieval princess outfits. The ones with the tall cone hat and a ribbon that trailed out from it. In this case, the dress was a glittery pink and the trailing ribbon was a baby blue. To put it simply, it was Marinette in dress form.

“You and Nino could be a matching knight and princess! It’d be so cute!”

A switch flipped in Alya’s head, a basic plan coming together.

“That’s awesome, M, but Nino already has his heart set on a minstrel costume,” Alya said. It technically wasn’t a lie, but she knew if she wanted to, she could definitely convince him to do the matching outfits. “But hey! What about you and Adrien do that!”

Marinette paled a little, which could almost be ignored with how her cheeks blushed. “I don’t know, Alya…”

Adrien poked his head around the corner. “Did someone say my name?” His eyes widened when he saw the dress Marinette was holding. He grinned. “Is that what you're going to be wearing?” He gasped, covering his mouth. “You’ll be so adorable! Can I be the knight? Please?”

“I… um… sure?” Marinette struggled to keep the costume from being crushed as Adrien hugged her close and spun her around. She failed to hold in a squeak, though.

Shaking her head with a smile, Alya moved a row over, where her boyfriend was browsing more outfits.

Nino tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “Huh.”

“What’s up, babe?”

“I thought were we costume shopping, but it looks like you were just costume shipping.” He grinned at her and she gently elbowed him in the side.

“You’ve been hanging out with sunshine too much. His punning has gotten to you.”

“Whatever you say, babe,” he said as he kissed her temple.

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

The next few days passed by pretty quickly and the gang found themselves at a Renaissance Faire that Nino had discovered while they were carving pumpkins. It was as good an excuse as any to get dressed up in costumes, and at least they weren’t getting weird looks for it.

Well, they weren’t just yet anyway. If the glint in Adrien’s eyes was anything to go by, they would be getting plenty soon enough.

“Uh, you okay there, Sir Centerfold?” Alya watched him warily. He’d really gotten into his role as Marinette’s knight in shining armor, a situation that Marinette was just as enthusiastic about. No surprise there, since it entailed him keeping an arm around her at almost all times and making loud declarations of fealty and love.

If they didn’t figure out where their relationship was after this, Alya was going to lock them in a room somewhere until they did.

She followed where he was looking, her eyes widening as she saw what had caught his attention. There was a booth labeled ‘The Dragon’s Cave.’ Pay a few euros and you can have your picture taken with the ‘dragon'. Right now, a few kids were ambling away from the ‘fearsome beast’, leaving a clear opening for…

Oh no.

Adrien strode past her, drawing his homemade sword from its scabbard as he did so - apparently the costume didn't come with one, so he had to improvise.

“Back, foul beast!” Adrien cried as he brandished a wobbling tin sword at the dragon. Or, at least, a man in a very poorly built dragon costume. One that left his face - and therefore his annoyed expression - on full view for everyone to see.

Alya pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. She glanced over to Marinette, but she was too busy dying of laughter to be of any help. Surely calm, chill Nino would- no... no, he was frantically strumming his lute, a goofy look on his face as he backed up his best bud in his ‘fight’ against the ‘dragon’. Alya put her hands to her face, partly in embarrassment, but partly to hide the grin that was threatening to break free.

And here she was, having worried that her bar wench outfit would be too silly.

No, leave it to her friends to reach maximum silliness all their own.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

SC - Turning Page

Original Fiction Prompt: The way they look after a rough night. Project: Seven Cities Word Count: 2570 Warnings/Tags: None 

This was technically in response to an ask prompt, but I grew so fond of it that I decided to give it a post of its own. It’s been a while since I felt the heartbeat in a piece. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. God, it feels good to enjoy it again.

Mood music that caught me when I was working on this piece: [The Boy’s Gone]

———–

There were three patrons still left on the Fairfield Inn’s meager tavern floor.

One was a young man that had stumbled in not long after sunset, and had spent the entire night nursing himself into a drunken, heartbroken stupor. One was a grimy older gentleman with hard eyes and a manner of falling into his cup that suggested that he’d been doing so for quite a while now. And the last, tucked into the furthest corner table, was Tahir, watching the pair of them as he pretended not to watch the door.

The rest of the crew had retired to their suite of rented rooms nearly an hour ago. Adelina had been the last to go, convinced to stagger her way upstairs only by Myrine’s coaxing and the yawning that she had done a miserable job of hiding. She had fought both for as long as she could stand, then had loomed over Tahir’s table with strict instructions that he was to wait for their captain’s return. If he couldn’t, she told him, he was to wake her. Immediately, she had said. 

He had laughed at the time, saluted her, given her his best “aye, aye” and then waved her into Myrine’s care. Now the tavern was almost properly empty, the moon had passed well overhead, and Tahir was beginning to think that there might be some cause for her worry.

He took an absent swig off of his tankard and let his gaze slide back to the door. Alex was private, sure, but she rarely went off without warning. Rarely went off in general; when there was no work to be done, she was usually more inclined to watch her crew from close quarters than she was to assume that they knew how to behave like civilized folk. But he had spent the entire night among them, drinking and dicing and losing card games to Davin, and not once had he seen so much as a single swishing coattail of….

Almost as soon as the thought occurred to him, the door of the inn swung open, and Alex Sheffield shouldered her way inside.

“Well now,” Tahir called from across the room, tucking his relief neatly behind a casual lean into his chair. “Kind of you to show your face around us again, captain! You might’ve said something before we -”

He broke off as Alex turned to face him. Wherever she had been all night had clearly taken its toll. She looked a proper mess, sagging beneath with the weight of a finely embroidered blue coat that Tahir recognized as Finn’s. She usually kept it on retainer for whenever she needed to look particularly stately, but now it hung open, at a slovenly angle that revealed the stained work shirt that she wore underneath. Her hair had been pulled out of its braided tail and trailed over her shoulder in a messy tangle, and there was an unhealthy wreath of pale red and bruise purple around her eyes. When she stopped walking to glare at him, Tahir saw her sway hard enough to have to catch herself on a nearby chair.

He was on his feet almost before he realized it.

“Merciful Lord, Alex,” he said, threading a path quickly around the tables towards her, “you look like hell. Are you alright? Christ, what happened -”

“Fucksake, be quiet.”

Tahir froze halfway through a step. Alex was slurring. Her normal cadence was a drawl, certainly, but always the deliberate sort, and always understandable to his ear. Only great need of sleep made her words run together. Sleep, or…

Frowning, Tahir took a few more steps forward, then recoiled as the nose-searing odor of alcohol met him.

“You’re drunk,” he said softly. Alex’s face twisted into a grimace.

“Brilliant notice,” she sneered. “Ought to let you ride a yard, eyes like that.” 

Scowling, she tried to stagger her way past, and Tahir moved quickly to intercept her. By her own design, Alex had only been properly drunk a precious few times in her life. Tahir had been around to see all but one of them, and knew better than to let her wander.

“Easy, lad,” he said, as she buried a shoulder into him in an effort to shove past. “Easy. Come and sit a spell, hey? Stairs will be the death of you right now.”

Alex grumbled something incomprehensible under her breath, but let herself be led back towards Tahir’s table. Even staggering drunk, she seemed to know that she couldn’t best Tahir in a matter of strength. He silently praised whatever God was looking out for him for that.

She took a seat opposite him, scowling and sullen as Tahir waved the tavern keeper down.

“Water,” he muttered to the man, with the hopes that Alex wouldn’t hear. He had apparently burned clean through whatever remained of his luck, however; when he looked up again, Alex was glaring at him.

“My mum’s been gone a while now,” she growled. “I think I don’t need you to start playing her.”

“‘Course not,” said Tahir, rolling his eyes. “But I’ve been on the bottle often enough to know what comes in the morning. It’s one of the few things I’ve more experience with than you. You don’t want that, Alex. And I sure as shit don’t want to see you suffer it.” 

The tavern keeper returned then, setting two mugs onto the table in front of him. Tahir nodded his thanks, and then pushed both across the table.

“Drink.”

He braced himself for another argument; even sober, Alex always had some toothless insult or slight against his character ready, often just for the fun of it. Instead, he watched as she stared fixedly at the tankards for a long, silent moment, then slowly reached out and took the first one.

“Right,” she said quietly. “You’re right, of course. Sorry.”

She reeled the mug close, bearing it like a cross against her chest and taking sullen sips as Tahir stared back. It was as if every ounce of fight had been leached out of her at once, replaced with a quiet melancholy that she seemed suddenly resigned to. If he had been concerned before, he was truly, properly worried now. 

He waited until she had gotten through about half of the mug before he tried speaking again. 

“Alex -”

“He’s here, you know.”

The interruption came without preamble, as Alex stared hard down at the table in front of her. Tahir’s brow furrowed.

“Who’s here, lad?”

“Why, Mr. Edward Sheffield, of course.” She stole a look at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled grimly. “Recently relocated and fully engulfed in the dockside merchant business once more. A grand coincidence, ain’t it?”

She took another draw off of her mug as Tahir blinked in surprise.

“Your father?” he asked, bewildered. “Your father is here?” 

“Aye. Him, along with a wife and a new brat between them, aged six. The whole fucking family.”

She didn’t bother hiding the bitter edge in her voice this time, and Tahir felt his frown curl deeper. Alex had been quits with her father a year or two before they’d met, but what little she had shared told Tahir that their separation had been more amicable on his end than hers. Relieving himself of responsibility for her had apparently been very easy indeed. 

“Where did you see them?” he asked after a moment. Alex gave a short laugh, dry and humorless.

“At their home,” she said, leaning forward to prop her chin against a hand. “I joined them for dinner, in fact! Was invited just this very morning, after Mr. Sheffield caught sight of me at the dockside. His wife is apparently very keen on cooking for guests.”

Tahir watched, silent, as Alex drained the last of her mug in a motion that seemed too familiar on her by half. 

“So you went along,” he said when she reached for her second cup.

“I did.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” She leaned back in her chair again, making a grand gesture out of her shrugging. “Not a God damned fucking thing. It was as if I was a client, come ‘round to be entertained for an evening. He told me of the move, of his work, about a hundred stories of all of the things his beloved son had been up to. Managed to talk his way all through till dessert, then thought to ask what I’d managed in the last seven years.”

The reminder apparently made itself a knife-twist in Alex’s gut; she grimaced, and then hid the look behind the lip of her tankard.

“I didn’t actually tell him about the Service, mind,” she went on after a moment, very quietly. “Thought talk of a desertion might end with more than a ruined dinner. Told him I’d taken up sailing though. That I had some command of a ship. You know what he asked me?” She snorted. “He asked the name of the captain I’d married, from whom I’d taken command.”

“Christ,” said Tahir, with so much withering disgust that Alex very nearly smiled. The look didn’t hold though, and almost at once, she returned to staring down at her tankard, absently swirling the water inside.

“I’m not a fool. I know my having anything like command on the Ranger is an unusual thing, mostly taken thanks to you, and Dav, and a host of sailors who didn’t have any better choices. I don’t expect it’s always understood. But, Christ.” She took Tahir’s tone on the word, a burst of mingled revulsion and anger. “He didn’t even entertain the notion, Tahir. Not for a moment. I was doing sums and consulting navigational charts when I was ten. He taught me the bloody arts! And even then, even with all of that, still…”

Her voice got very small then, and sunk low into her chair, Alex suddenly looked as tiny as Tahir had ever seen her. He watched in silence as she worried her lip against the edge of her still-full tankard, turning over what she’d said, what he’d seen. Then he scoffed.

“Is your father blind?”

The question caught Alex so off guard that she could do nothing but blink and stare up at him for a few long seconds.

“What?”

“Blind,” Tahir said again, louder this time. “From squinting down at little pieces of paper and all of those tiny numbers and some such. Surely he must be, because I can find no better explanation for how he could take even one single look at you and think that you’d do anything on board a ship but strut around and bark orders at men twice your size.”

Alex’s mouth twitched, the barest ghost of a smile, and Tahir saw her roll her eyes to cover the little huff of laughter that had escaped her. Emboldened, he pressed on.

“In fact, I’d say blind is not nearly good enough a reason. A man might hear you and know your standing! Certainly, he is blind, deaf and mad as well. Or at least doesn’t know a damn thing about you.”

By now, Alex was laughing quietly to herself, trying desperately to tuck it behind a hand.

“No,” she said, around her not-laughter, “no, I imagine he doesn’t.”

“I’d like to think I do, though.” Tahir leaned back in his seat, casual in a way that his words weren’t. “And you know what I think? All mishaps and faults aside - and Almighty hell, there’s been a lot of them - I think there is no one on God’s green earth that could have lead as unholy an expedition, or commanded as unruly a ship as the Ranger, with as much grace and dignity as Alex Sheffield.”

Alex’s snickering vanished easily behind a hand now, and she fixed him with a look so hard and narrow that he felt it in his bones. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then repeated the motion a few more times for good measure, silently trying to mash her sense into something resembling coherence. Tahir stifled a little grin. Sincerity always ruffled Alex, needled her low opinion of humanity until she couldn’t form the sentences necessary to argue. She’d left him little option otherwise, though. She wouldn’t have listened to anything that she considered coddling, and her father was still her father, his miserable idiocy notwithstanding. Renouncing him would have done as much good as agreeing. 

Still, she had been through well enough today already; Tahir could abide giving her a break. 

“Of course,” he said after a moment, “the actual amount of grace and dignity involved is still something of a debate….”

Now the grin came, wry and too quick to hide behind a hand. Snorting, she kicked halfheartedly at him under the table.

"I’ll not hear talk of grace from a man that cannot walk ten paces belowdecks without running headfirst into a beam.”

“Ha! You mistake my talents for flaws.”

They traded barbless insults and blows deliberately aimed to miss underneath the table, stopping only when Alex nearly toppled out of her seat going after Tahir’s shin. She righted herself carefully, suddenly aware of the dubious relationship that she currently had with gravity. 

“I’m for bed, I think,” she said when she had steadied herself again, gripping the edge of the table. “I’ve likely worried Ade enough.”

“Oh, you have,” said Tahir. “She threatened me, you know. Said that I was to stay on watch until you returned. And that I should wake her if I couldn’t. Or else, she said.”

"Did she?” Alex stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I ought to stay, then. Hide in a corner, wait to see how you fare against her. That would certainly lift my spirits.”

“You are cruel indeed to make me suffer the wrath of a scorned woman, lad.”

Alex gave a deep bow that nearly sent her staggering to the floor. When she found her feet again, Tahir chuckled and pushed her still-full tankard of water across the table. She rolled her eyes, but took it without a fight.

“You’ll tell your lady that I followed her orders, won’t you?” Tahir asked over a shoulder as Alex shuffled past him on the way to the stairs.

“I’ll consider it,” came the reply, not far behind him. Tahir grinned to himself, then leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach. She sounded better, at least. No amount of sneering at her father’s expense would fix quite everything, but at least her slurring was only the drunkard’s sort now.

“Tahir.”

He glanced over his shoulder and found Alex stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the rooms above. Her hand had a shaky, white knuckled grip on the railing, but she stood tall.

“Get to bed,” she said. Now Tahir rolled his eyes, turning pointedly back to his tankard. 

“Aye, captain.”

“I’ll need you in the morning.”

“Aye, captain.”

“And… thank you.”

Tahir raised an eyebrow, then slowly turned back to where Alex stood. She met his gaze from her place at the stairs; knuckles even whiter, grip on the railing even more unsteady, but with a stare as firm and unflinchingly open as he had ever seen on her before. Still not running away. A little coal of pride, hot as the summer sun, sparked to life in his chest, and Tahir smiled.

“Aye, captain.”

[lastoneout]

So I keep telling myself I’m not gonna talk about this anymore but it’s late and I’m salty and I figure this would be a good learning opportunity for everyone anyway so whatever. 

I keep seeing people commenting on how the Delpad Week prompt list getting stolen and vandalized doesn’t count as art theft because I guess technically I didn’t “draw” anything while making it. And I feel like this is coming down to people just not understanding the work that goes into graphic design? (I mean I assume some of it is just people wanting to make excuses for doing something horrible but w/e I had my panic attacks I’m over it.) So since we do live in an age where people still devalue graphic design and other computer-based art forms I thought would break down all of the steps that I took when designing the prompt list, as well as the icons and banners for Delpad Week. 

(And as a quick disclaimer there were probably easier ways to do some of the things I’m gonna list but I am still learning and I had never really used Clip Studio Paint before. I am an amateur, be patient with me.)

Step One - Picking Fonts!

Now this one might have come down to me just being picky, but I had a pretty clear idea in my head of what I wanted the “logo” to look like so after opening Clip and determining that NONE of the default fonts came anywhere close to what I was looking for I went to dafont.com and spent like...god I want to say close to an hour browsing the free fonts until I found a 5-10 options I liked.

I then had to extract and install all of the files onto my pc and make sure they worked, which is easy, but still took time.

Then I typed out what I wanted the logo to say using all of the different fonts to see what they looked like and what they looked like next to each other. See it’s a good idea to compliment fancy serif fonts with simple sans serif ones so I needed to pick a fancy one for the “Delpad Week” text and then a simple one for the prompts and dates and such.

Step Two - COLORS!

After I picked the two fonts I wanted to use I had to pick out the colors for the poster and the text. I took the colors for the “Delpad Week” logo itself from a pic of the Sun Chaser/Cloud Slayer I found, both the usual red and then the darker shadow. Which, once again, there HAS to be an easier way to do this but I typed the words out twice in both colors and painstakingly layered them over each other in just the right way to get the “drop shadow” effect I wanted. 

Then I picked a nice light black for the rest of the text that I think I took from the line art on a screen cap I found? Either way it looked better than true black. And took time to find.

And of course I needed to find a good blue for the background which took a bit cuz it needed to match everything else.

Step Three - Sizing! 

I had to look up all of the different recommended photo dimensions for tumblr and twitter icons, headers, posts, ect to make sure the damn things wouldn’t look wonky once I uploaded them.

Oh and since Clip is weird I did actually have to do that typing/layering thing on EACH NEW PICTURE I made. Which making sure they all looked the same sure was FUCKING HARD and took hours!

And my friend took the time to make the transparent Della and LP for the banners and I had to resize and center them on each pic. And I had to find and size/position the clouds and transparent Sun Chaser/Cloud Slayer too. 

Step 4 - Putting It All Together!

Imo this one is the hardest since Clip doesn’t have alignment tools and even if it did sometimes due to fonts and art and such being the way they are true center doesn’t actually LOOK centered to the human eye so there’s a lot of fiddling around with the text and pics to make it look as close as possible to center which starts to kinda numb your mind after a while. Lots of taking breaks and coming back to it to make sure it looked okay.

And of course typing all of the prompts out and making sure the fonts actually do look okay and everything is spelled right and spaced correctly. I have dyslexia, I double check spelling, sue me.

So once you finally think that everything looks okay you get to go upload it to different sites to make sure the icons and such don’t look blurry or get cropped weird and then inevitably go back and move everything around again or in some cases remake them entirely(the deviantART icon took like two re-makes to get right) when they do. Shit takes time, yo.

That might not seem like a lot but let me stress that I made the prompt list poster, the tumblr icon and banner, the twitter icon and banner, the deviantART club icon, and the other banners for things like updates and such. Which all and all took the better part of TWO FUCKING DAYS. 

And that’s not even mentioning the time it took to find a good tumblr theme and set it up and put together the DA club and the twitter account, as well as documenting all of the prompt suggestions and making sure I picked ones that were vague enough to allow for creativity as well as represented what everyone wanted, plus deciding on/writing out all of the rules including the ones for different sites. All of which, aside from some help here and there from friends, I did by myself. For free.

I’m not complaining. I am having a blast running Delpad Week, and making all of this was frustrating but fun. I love graphic design, I wanted to do my best, hell I even got input from my godfather who is a graphic designer on some of the banners just to make sure everything was as high a quality as it could be. And you know what? I was really, really proud of that prompt list. I have been stuck at home disabled for about a year now in awful pain most of the time and only just getting back into drawing and graphic design and I was super happy with how everything came out. I wanted people to see it, I wanted to give Delpad fans a beautiful blog and prompt list to look at after everything we have been through. And not to toot my own horn but I think I delivered. 

So considering all of that you can see why having someone steal the banner, deface it with horrible and triggering content was so horribly upsetting to me. Aside from how defacing something a queer woman worked hard on with words like “burning a pride flag” is abhorrent and drove me to tears and panic attacks, how would you guys feel if someone took something you worked on for two days and shat all over it for a cheap joke? Especially when the only thing you did wrong was want to give a good, cute ship some attention. 

Graphic Design is an art. Taking someone’s unique design, vandalizing it, and then reposting it IS ART THEFT. Just because it took you 10 minutes to open the pic up, color over the original text and use a crappy font to add in your own prompts doesn’t mean making the thing in the first place was that easy. (And again, I’m not complaining about the time and the work. I’m having fun. I love graphic design. If I didn’t want to do this I wouldn’t have.)

But anyway, like I said, I’m trying to not let it bother me anymore. People have apologized and that’s good. But hopefully this breakdown can help you guys appreciate the work that goes into graphic design and be a bit more courteous to the people who do that work, especially for free. 

[twelverose]

you’ve gone too long without a smile (1/2)

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Rating: Teen (For some pretty heavy depressive themes)

Words: 2k

Song: Daylily by Movements

Read on A03

Rose seemed to fall into a depression not long after they left Krop Tor. She seemed fine when they were up to their usual antics: saving people and solving problems. But when they were back in the vortex, something heavy seemed to fall over her.

i sit and watch

Outside for the first time in a longtime. Lose yourself sink into the sunlight. It's been a while since you felt right. But the warm nights are coming soon And you’ll be just fine

Outside for the first time in a longtime. You said you can't remember what it's like to feel more than cold on the inside. But the sunrise will come again Oh, you'll be just fine.

_________________________________________________________

Rose seemed to fall into a depression not long after they left Krop Tor. She seemed fine when they were up to their usual antics: saving people and solving problems. But when they were back in the vortex, something heavy seemed to fall over her. She didn’t sit on the jump seat and call Jackie or ramble on about something she said while they were on the phone. She didn’t discuss her latest favorite reality show. She didn’t ask impossible questions that only he would know the answer to and call him full of it when he did as the Doctor tinkered. She just sat and watched or read, if she sat there at all.

When she did read, he noticed that she wasn’t reading Charles Dickens or Jane Austin or some other classic lit. She was picking up poets like Plath and Bukowski, reading heavy philosophized fiction like Camus and Sartre. It didn’t worry him in the beginning. Given that it was only natural for her to drift through periods and eras of written works.

If Rose wasn’t with him in the console room, he’d find her in the garden or in the library. She’d be sketching most of the time. Sometimes painting. Hobbies she picked up just before meeting Jack. She wasn’t really focused on a style of art. She did focus on realism in the beginning though, at his advice. She was quite good at it too. Drawings of his new and old face, Jack, Mickey, and Jackie were scattered across her old room. Floral, impressionist-style paintings leaned against walls. It was clear that since they shared his room, hers morphed into an art studio.

She drew florals and landscapes when she was in the garden. But in the library, he’d find her creating almost surreal imagery.

“What’s that?” He pointed over her shoulder to something that appeared to be wings.

She just sighed, “Wings. Not really sure where I’m goin’ with it though.”

She only worked on the painting when she couldn’t or refused to sleep.

When she slept, it was rarely peacefully like before. Nightmares plagued her like they once plagued him. It worried the Doctor to the point that he no longer left to tinker when she was in deep sleep. He stayed throughout the night, passing time by reading or just watching her. Occasionally sleeping himself. But her REM sleep meant there were whimpers of his name slipping from her lips and hands searching for him. If it was too terrible, she’d cry.

It was when she woke up sobbing his hearts would ache. He’d hold her close. He’d mumble thoughtless comforts into her hair, run his fingers up and down her spine, and let her hold him tight enough to leave bruises. Like she was trying to make them into one.

What made it worse was she refused to talk about the nightmares. Claiming she couldn’t remember what had happened. And her sudden darken moods were passed off as exhaustion.

Her tongue-touched smile was rare now. Only pulling through when they saved the day. Less frequent but still there gave him hope. She was still coping. Still seeing the good in everything. Still so human. But there came a day that was saved and something like paranoia began. What if she never smiled again?

It was after leaving Jackie behind in the parallel universe and nearly falling into a void of creatures built of hate that she truly fell deep into something that she couldn’t hide. Something she couldn’t deny either. Not that she tried.

Her goodbye to her mother took the fuel of a supernova. And the strength of a goddess to admit that they’d never see each other again. The last thing she’d ever hear Jackie say was a sob broken “I love you.” The moment was a blur to him.

One moment she was standing and the next she was collapsed on the floor.

“Figure something out. Please!” She begged between heavy sobs.

He quickly moved to her. Gathering her in his arms and rocking her back and forth.

She repeated “Please” over and over. Crying herself to near-dehydration. Holding onto the lapels of his suit as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

The Doctor didn’t say anything. Wasn’t sure if she really wanted to hear anything. Just took her to the infirmary when she went silent.

She was limp as he took off her jumper to check for broken ribs. There were two. She didn’t seem to notice or care. The bruising nearly covered her entire left side. She didn’t make a single noise as he ran several regenerators over broken bone, busted veins, and bruised muscle. It hurt him. His brave, selfless Rose. So lost in her own mind. So hurt.

He clinched his jaw as those thoughts ran through his head. She was the last being to deserve this. She deserved her every last wish. And the few she had right now were impossible for him to give her.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Gently running his hands up and down her sides.

It was the beginning of a sudden new life. And the end of her old one. Even if she wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

So rather than taking her to their bedroom, he lead her to the media room and put on one of her guilty pleasures, Night of the Creeps. The campy 80s sci-fi didn’t seem to induce the usual fit of giggles and commentary though, not that he expected it. He at least hoped for some kind of reaction. Even if it was her telling him to fuck off. To stop being so overbearing. Instead, she sat with her head on his chest, eyes unfocused on the screen in front of them. As if she were in a trance.

And the trance didn’t just last for a night. Neither did the silence.

It scared him. Terrified him to his core.

Because this was the girl who had brought hope and joy and love back into his life. The one who showed him what something new felt like. Who put together war torn hearts. Who looked gods and devils in their eyes and said “No more.” Who proved that empathy could be the most essential thing. Who was so beautifully human yet somehow such a goddess at the same time.

Now, she was practically mute. She barely ate. Something horrid had truly come over her. Something dark. He understood it. The cloudiness in her eyes was something that had grown familiar to him. Something that didn’t belong in hers. She looked so much older than before. Even though it was technically impossible.

And he wasn’t certain that he could heal her the way she did him. A single heart was so much more reckless with emotion than two. So much more vivid with it.

He wasn’t okay with it. Didn’t want to accept it. But he knew this was a trial that she had to take. And it was lead by her. No genius plan of his could sort it out. She was clever. But Rassilon, was she emotional. He could only be support if she allowed him to be.

He told her this several times. Reminded her of the things he thought she needed to hear. Whispered “I love you”s when she woke from terrors or simply was too afraid to fall asleep. He tried to give her the support he wish he had before meeting her.

They stayed in the vortex for about a week. He gave her space but made sure the TARDIS told him if she was in need of anything. The ship herself seemed to take on a small form of Rose’s mindset. The humming was a deeper tone, the lights a bit dimmer. It was fair, they were quite literally coursing through one another. So he trusted the TARDIS to take care of her as much as he could.

He went back to the Powell Estates and gathered everything in the flat. It was known that she planned on living on the TARDIS for the rest of time. But this was too sudden. She couldn’t bare to even glance outside the TARDIS doors. She stayed in their room as the Doctor lugged each box into a new room his ship had made. To keep everything safe until Rose was ready to confront it all.

It was another few days in the vortex until she actually said something.

They were in the galley. The Doctor was making a light lunch for the both of them. A talk show coming from the radio that replaced their usual bicker and conversation. It would’ve been an unbearable silence without the TARDIS’ hum. Both of them lost in their own minds.

To the point that Rose’s voice made him jump slightly. It was an unfamiliar, hoarse, soft whisper.

“Doctor?”

He turned to see tears forming and immediately kneeled in front of her, “Rose?”

“I’m not supposed to be here, am I?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Why would you say that?”

“Whatever that thing on Krop Tor said. Nearly losing you. Losing my mum. Nearly falling into that void myself,” Something like anger washed over her face, “It’s almost like something is out to get me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though.”

The Doctor cupped her cheeks and whipped away the trails of tears with his thumbs, “Terrible things happen to the best people, Rose.”

Silence. This time, stagnate. They just stared into each other’s eyes. He was begging her to say something more. Just one more word.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Let yourself go through it. Don’t force solutions,” He gave her a small smile, “Let help come and show you what’s bright again.”

She didn’t smile. But something in her face softened for just a second. A hint of relief, maybe. It didn’t last long, but it was something that made him sure he was doing something right.

“Do you think she’s happy?” It came out as more of a sob than a question.

He pulled her out of the chair and into the floor. Holding her tightly to his chest, rocking her. Something that was occurring often. He took it as a comfort more than him than her. Knowing she was still here with him.

But this was her moment. A moment he had been asking for since the moment the supernova died.

“She’s going to miss you more than you miss her, Rose. I know that. But the stages of grief are always the same, even if you didn’t really lose them. But she’ll be happy. She’ll figure it out soon enough.”

And she just cried. Something he was strangely happy about. Because it was something other than the silence. Something other than her letting it stay inside her and spread over every one of her thoughts like mold. It was something he could hear and understand. Something she would soon find was the climax of the end.

[somevirtualnolife]

I Like Him, I Like Him Not

2387 Words

Rating: T Series: Ikemen Sengoku  Pairing: Nobunaga x MC Summary: Makoto knows that what she and Nobunaga have is nothing more than a simple game and quite frankly, she wants to keep it that way. Why in the world would she want to get further involved with someone as arrogant, callous, and conceited as him? No thank you.And yet... for some reason, she always finds herself always spending more time than expected with him.

Author’s Note: I've been addicted to this game for the past 6 months, and so I finally couldn't wait any longer and wanted to write a fic for it! Nobunaga was my second playthrough and I am a big sucker for "I hate him until I fall in love with him" story lines.Although there are mentions to events in the game, this little one shot doesn't follow the plot to a tee. It's just it's own little thing in a universe where the story moves a little slower.Apologies in advance for any typos or if I still haven't gotten a proper grasp of Nobunaga's character yet! I'm still getting a feel for writing him.Happy reading!

***

Ugh, she did it again.

This was the second time Makoto had fallen asleep in Nobunaga’s quarters then and woken up, curled up on a futon next to him. Was this Stockholm Syndrome? It had to be, right?

The first time was to thank him for saving her. It turned into quite the night that ended with them playing another round of Go and him claiming her lap. In the end, she too ended up falling asleep, but instead of waking her to go back to her room, he took her to his futon. Nobunaga was a man of his word; she’d give him that. He never tried anything while she was asleep. Though quite frankly she still felt it was a pretty low bar to respect a woman’s boundaries, Sengoku era or not.  

Last night… now what happened last night?

She had gotten annoyed by a comment he had made during dinner and went to chew him out. That ‘chewing out’ turned into more of a discussion. And before she knew it, those few minutes she intended to talk to him turned into an hour. And then that hour turned into several more. So in that case… she must’ve fallen asleep mid-conversation. He may have been the ruthless Devil King of the 6th Heaven, but he was also an excellent conversationalist and listener. His thoughts and philosophies were thought provoking and in turn, he’d also listen to her speak about her own convictions, her life back in the 21st century, and really anything else that came to mind; no interruptions. It was one of his nicer qualities.  

Only one of his few. That’s what she’d continuously remind herself. She felt like she had to remind herself that no matter how good a conversationalist he was, how handsome he was, how, ahem, good he made her feel after a game of go, she was not falling for the warlord. He was so pushy, arrogant, and cold. Not to mention being the most feared warlord in Japanese history. He was the equivalent of a modern-day bad boy, and that was totally not Makoto’s type.

Makoto took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder. Nobunaga’s eyes were still closed, and he seemed to be breathing slowly. Still asleep. If she was quiet enough, she could go back to her room and no one would be none the wiser. She carefully sat up and attempted to inch her way to the end of the futon, just about to pull off the covers.

“Mmm, not yet,”

Nobunaga placed his hand on hers, pulling her back down beside him. His other arm then wrapped around her waist, careful not to tread any higher, for it seems was still awake enough to know which parts of her were ‘conquered’ territory.  “It’s still early,”

“Which is exactly why I should be going. I don’t need someone waltzing in and getting the wrong impression. Again,”

“And what impression is that?”

“That we’re… you know,” she felt a rush of heat flash across her cheeks. “Involved in certain ways,”

“Are we not?” his breath was warm on her ear, and before she knew it, she felt his teeth lightly graze and then nip at the tip of her earlobe. A wave of tingling pleasure shot down all the way to the tip of her toes. At the same time, his arm that was around her waist, slipped underneath her kimono and caressed the length of her thigh.

Makoto bit down on her lower lip, managing to supress a gasp. Ugh, he was good. But she wasn’t going to let him get to her so easily. She knew her limits, and she also knew that when she said no, it was no with him.  

“Alrighty, I think that’s enough,” She quickly squirmed out of his arms and sat up, crossing her arms with a flushed, but irritated expression on her face (or perhaps hot and bothered was a better way to describe it).

“We are not. Exactly,” she continued, a firmness in her tone. “Look, it’s all well and good for you. You’re one of the most powerful men in Japan. You know what, scratch that; you’re a man, period. No one cares who you’re in bed with. Meanwhile I have to deal with all the maids gossiping about me and the men calling me ‘Nobunaga’s Woman’,”

“You say that with disdain now, but you hardly seem fussed about it every night I’ve claimed you,”

“Okay firstly, please don’t say ‘claimed’. Secondly… that- is- well you-”

Look, there was no denying that when lips and hands explored her, it felt great. She mind as well just admit that now. After all, there is nothing wrong with a little ‘friends with benefits’ situation (or in this case, perhaps ‘warlords with benefits’), but that’s not what they were doing. Not really. To him, this was all a game; something that he had yet to conquer and once he was done, he would probably move on. And for her, this was her way of trying to get back home. And there were worst ways she could be spending her time here.

Regardless there was no way that they would become anything more than that. And she was fine with that. She wanted it to be that way.

“I just want to be Miyahara Makoto. You know, a person rather than someone’s property,”

“Ah, so it’s pride,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Very well, Miyahara Makoto. If that is what is bothering you so, sneak back to your quarters. Because for whatever reason, that is somehow less suspicious,”

“It isn’t if I don’t get caught,” she retorted.

“Which you have a pretty poor track record of thus far,”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Makoto froze in place. No! No-no-no-no-no! Was he also some sort of wizard? Did he have the ability to just summon people when she was in the worst looking situations?

She groaned and buried her face into her hands, frustrated. Great. Just great.

Makoto then heard Nobunaga sigh and she looked up. His expression unreadable as usual, but if she were to harbour a guess, it would be annoyed. He then nudged his head over in the direction of a folding screen. Oh! Why didn’t she notice that earlier? Quickly, she hopped up from the futon and ducked behind it, trying to keep as quiet as and as still as possible.

The door slid open.

“Lord Nobunaga! I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning,” a voice said.

“It’s fine. What’s the trouble?” she heard Nobunaga respond.

“No trouble, but we have received the latest works for the palace. We thought that you may want to look over them first before we put them up for display,”

“Very well. You may place them over there,”

Makoto could hear the sound of people entering the room, most likely carrying things as she heard the soft thuds of objects being placed against the wall and floor. After a few minutes, the sounds of movement ended and there was a bit of idle chit-chat before there she heard the door being slid closed again.

“They’ve left,” Nobunaga said casually, and she carefully poked her head out from behind the screen. It was then that she noticed that the room was now filled with various pieces of art. Large screens and paintings in gold leaf that depicted western ships, delicate yamato-e painted on delicate rice paper. That’s what they meant by ‘work’. Artwork!

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” she repeated as she inched herself closer to them.    

“I thought you were leaving,” Nobunaga crossed his arms, a bemused smile on his face.

“I am! I just…wow.”

Makoto’s eyes lit up. It was amazing to know that some of these works of art would last for over 500 years. And here she was, seeing them in their original state. No textbook, no glass separating them, or waiting in lines at a museum. Most people could only dream of being able to do experience this. She had to admit this was one of the benefits of being in Azuchi among some of the most powerful men of this time.  

“Ah that’s right. You studied the arts back in your time, didn’t you?”

“Well, technically my major was in Fashion and Textile Design, but I did take several electives in drawing and painting even though my parents insisted that I take classes in business because they said that it would be more practical, but honestly I took one accounting course and I swear it was the most boring-”

Nobunaga’s expression went blank. She was losing him.

“Ahem, yes. I studied the arts. You’re required when you’re designing clothing,” she turned away.

Her eyes then landed on one final piece. It was a painting of what looked to be an older man, sitting down in a green haori and hakama with a white kimono. His hair was shaved in the middle of his head, with the rest tied in a topknot. His expression was… well he didn’t have much of one.

“Who’s this?” she asked, pointing at the painting. She couldn’t recall anyone who looked like him in the castle. Perhaps it was the artist that did these works? A relative? There was something oddly familiar about it.

Nobunaga walked over to Makoto and looked down at the painting.

“Oh, that must be the portrait that was commissioned,”

A portrait? “Wait, this is you?”

“Mm,”

Makoto was… well, she was speechless, to say the least. It hit her that she had seen the painting once before in her old history books from back in high school. No wonder she didn’t recognize any of the warlords when she first met them. They looked nothing like their portraits! This was the equivalent to photoshopping your profile picture, but in like, the opposite way that most people intended.

“So, you feel that this is an accurate depiction of you?” she finally asked.

“It’s not something that I’m particularly concerned about. I get them done because I have to,” his tone was indifferent. “There have been a number of portraits of me made, each one different from the next,”

Makoto chewed the inside of her cheek. Yes, it was now coming back to her now.

“You disagree,”

“No. It’s just… not what I would have gone with. Personally,”

“Oh?”

She fidgeted with her hands, looking as though she were about to burst. Finally, she couldn’t help it, and grabbed her bag, pulling out her sketchbook and grabbed a small brush and an inkwell from Nobunaga’s table. She felt a little bad critiquing this artist’s work, but there was just no way that was Nobunaga, even if this was the style used during this time. Maybe she could do her own little spin on it. Ugh, her art history teacher would kill her for wanting to change such an iconic painting. But she couldn’t help it.

“Let’s see… first of all, the linework doesn’t really convey ‘Devil King of the 6th Heaven’ to me,” Even resting or sitting, there was always this aura of intensity around him. Therefore, brush strokes used should convey as such. They should be more dynamic, more freeform. The brush moved across the page with both speed and precision.  

“And your face isn’t that round,” he had sharper features, that gave him a stern and devilish look at the same time. “Not to mention your hairstyle,”

“I believe I had a topknot when the artist first came to visit,”

“Well you don’t now, so we’ll just fix that. Plus your hairline doesn’t go that far back,”

She dipped the brush in the inkwell again started to add a little more detail to sketch. She was concentrated now, muttering a few comments to herself, but not really expecting an answer in return. It was always how she worked on her designs, whether there was someone around or not.

“And then of course, there are your eyes,” she continued. They were the three Cs; Carnelian, cold, and calculating. She’d gotten used to them at this point. She had asked them once why they were always so cold and he couldn’t answer, so she just sort of left it at that. It was a dumb question anyway, if she thought about it.

“I see,” he said.  

She didn’t know when it had happened, but Nobunaga had sat down very closely beside her, his face looking over her shoulder at the sketch. And that’s when she noticed his eyes.

They were different. They held some emotion in them. Interest perhaps. But not the type of interest where she was something new and unknown, or someone to conquer. More like… he was enjoying just watching her sketch.

Something fluttered inside her chest.

She then quickly put the brush back down and stood up. What was she doing? She just said that she wanted as little as possible to do with him, and now here she was sketching an entire portrait after spending the night with him.

“I should really get back to my room,” she tucked a strand of her curly brown hair behind her ear. “The later it gets the more people will be in the hallways, and-”

“You don’t want to give them the wrong idea, I know” he responded, a surprisingly playful tone in his voice. “It’s a shame. I quite enjoyed watching you work. Until our next game, Miyahara Makoto. Unless of course, you wish to come back again of your own volition,”

“I assure you that I will not, Oda Nobunaga,” she responded, though her tone was far less amused, but she still bowed. “Good day to you,”

Once she left his quarters, instead of darting off back to her room, she laid her back against the wall and clutched her sketchbook tightly against her chest. Her heart was beating loudly.

He said he liked watching her work.

Why did she just sketch a picture of the man that she was determined to hate? Why did she spend the night with him just talking? Why did she want him to keep looking at her like that? His eyes… she wanted to see that look again.

Miyahara Makoto… not Nobunaga’s woman.

But maybe she wanted to be.  

[carry-on-big-bang]

Carry On Mini Bang 2019 FAQ

And here’s the FAQ for this year’s Carry On Mini Bang! If you have a question that you don’t see answered here, please send us an ask. You can also check out our rules and schedule!

(Edit: Here’s the links for mobile users: Rules || Schedule.)

Who are the mods and where can I find them? The mods for these events are currently Mod Simon and Mod Teddy. They’re both active Carry On fans and you can find them at @isthisisagoodkiss (Mod Simon) or @temporary-teddycup (Mod Teddy).

What event is happening right now? Right now we are hosting a Mini Bang, the first ever for the Carry On fandom!

What does that mean? A Mini Bang is just like a Big Bang, only on a smaller scale. So, for example, the word count requirements for the COBB2018/19 were at least 4000 words, no maximum, and for this Mini Bang, it’s 2000-20000 words. We have, however, implemented some special rules for this one that set it apart from other mini bangs.

What is special about this Carry On Mini Bang? Usually, writers create a story and artists choose one of these stories to make art for. This time, though, we’ve decided to do things a little differently. We will match artists and writers randomly based on some opinions and they have to create something together.

Do I need to be a certain age to participate? No. Everyone is welcome, from the fandom fetuses to the oldies.

Do I need to be a certain age to make explicit content? No. We do ask you to keep your own limits in mind, though. You are responsible for yourself.

I want to participate, but I’m afraid I’m not good enough. Do I have to have a certain skill level? No. Everyone, absolutely everyone, is welcome. All art is beautiful, no matter how technically good some might it call.

How or where do I sign up? You can sign up to participate with this google form. Just fill all the data in and answer the confirmation email we send you, and you’re entered into our participants’ data table!

When can I sign up? Sign-ups will be open from May 18th, 12:00 pm PST (noon) to May 31st, 11:59 pm PST.

Can I sign up as an artist and a writer? Well, we won’t stop you. Due to the collaborative nature of this event, you will not be able to make art for your own story, though. Also, we ask you to keep your own limitations in mind.

I missed Sign-Ups. Can I still participate? Unfortunately not. Apologies, but you will have to wait for the next event.

Can I drop out? Yes, of course. You can drop out before matching without any repercussions, but we ask you not to drop out after. If it’s an emergency, though, please contact the mods and we will work something out. There will be no judgment or punishments, and your partner will be assigned a pinch-hitter (if there is one available.)

What is a pinch-hitter? A pinch-hitter is someone who is willing to do another project on short notice, particularly when someone drops out and leaves their partner on their own. The pinch-hitter will be assigned to them and together, they might either continue the project that has already been started or create something new altogether.

My partner isn’t being respectful and/or responding. What do I do? Please contact the mods. You can either do so by sending us an email to carryonbigbang@gmail.com or an ask to this Tumblr. You can also send an ask or a message to the Mods on their own blogs if you feel more comfortable with that.

When will I be matched? We will work on matching the participants as soon as Sign-Ups close! The teams will be announced on June 8th via email.

How does matching work? When signing up you will be answering a few questions (“Topics of Interest”). We will match people based on these requirements. We will not guarantee that you will get someone to share your opinions, but we will certainly try the best we can.

What are these “Topics of Interest”? These include (but aren’t limited to) questions about your ship preferences, rating preferences, type of work preferences and so on.

When can I start creating? As soon as you and your partner have decided what you want to do!

What am I creating? What are my guidelines? You can choose between three work types: The traditional one (writer writes fic, artist makes art to go along with it), the comic (writer writes the script, artist draws) or the unconventional one (writer and artist collaborate to write a song or make a short film/animation). You can find guidelines in the Rules (linked at the top).

Can we do AUs and crossovers as well? You and your partner can do whatever you want.

Do we need to include Snowbaz? No. Again, you and your partner can do anything you want, as long as it’s still classified as Carry On fan content.

Are stories required to be beta-read? No, but we do recommend it.

When are the check-ins? There is a schedule available to view. It’s linked at the top.

When does my work have to be finished? At the very latest, on your posting date. This will be assigned to you by the mods and will be from September 2nd to 15th.

When am I posting? On your posting date.

Where am I posting? You can upload your work wherever you like, as long as you send the mods a link. There will also be a masterpost with all the links on the Carry On Bangs Tumblr.

[thatmightyheart]

i will close it at midnight, which i think is 11pm GMT..!

there is no pre-order cap for any items! thanks for your interest! :D

more messages under the cut!

thank you..!! but i’m really sorry, this is way too vague, and i’m really not that proficient myself... all i can say is the boring usual (but true..!!) stuff like practice, use references responsibly..... practice............................

this is funny to me bc i am chronically a desperately shy person and it absolutely bewilders me when a post goes farther than i expected skjhgksjg

sometimes it may not be so much the technical quality of the art, but the idea/concept/story behind it, which if it shines through well enough ppl will like it regardless, e.g. comics with a funny punchline

otherwise it just has to be actual level grinding on technical art skills, to make stuff that just. looks Good.... if it’s your goal to get noticed (i’m assuming this means more followers, more notes etc??) then it just has to look.... inherently appealing??? (this is not meant to be snarky but as like. a Point of Common Sense........???) ........ i’m sorry i’m not good at this

on the more practical side of things, make the most of the first 5 tags on posts, since they’re the ones that count...... spreads my hands and shrugs that’s all the advice i have .. :(

no..?? those kinds of pro designs are pretty popular!

JDSKGSJHG i’m glad you noticed that i did enjoy that funny detail..... poor iida ..... help him......... at least he has spares

:’) i’m glad! i like momojirou, tsuchaco, todomomo, naomight.... :>

as for b99 i don’t think i’ll draw for it.. but i love all the characters.... literally.... and i love cheddar and/or kevin episodes ksjhkjsg.... and i just love jake and amy’s relationship dkjdgksg it’s just so HEALTHY

!!!! thank you so much for this kind thoughtful message!!! i’m so glad you like the way i portray them :___) we all have our own interpretations of characters and i’m perfectly aware that mine are more.. indulgent.. than most sdgjkshg so thank you for saying they affect you positively!! :____________D

aaahhh thank you so much!! i am usually hoping to convey soft sweet moods or to capture specific expressions/moments of loving sentiments... which is perfect for those ships..... so i’m really glad you think that’s coming through :’’’’D dsjgksjhg thank you for the kind words and encouragement !!!!

jhskhgsg!!!! thank you so much for your support everyone!!! <3

[carriedon-awolfsback]

Hello lovely people it’s time for tomfoolery!! Submersion Rating: 18+ only Wordcount: 4,850 Content Warnings: A little bit of light-hearted discipline play and like two ass slaps but beyond that, actually none! Just 2nd person female reader and Cardinal Horrible Little Man passing like ships in the night at the height of summer. Only, obnoxious ships, that like… fuck each other. This was a bad choice of metaphor. I don’t have an excuse for this. It’s just been 30+ degrees C (upper 80s F) for more than a month where I am, and we’re not at all used to or equipped for that nonsense. Who would win out between my literal and metaphorical thirsts? Neither, why would they fight, they’re in love. In about fourth months’ time when I’m bitching my tits off about it being below freezing again, there’ll probably be a nice warm companion piece to this. Just sayin’. Read Submersion here on AO3, or here beneath the cut!

“Mm... mmh, it’s too hot-“

“So worked up already, darling?” The Cardinal looked up from the junction of your neck and shoulder, his voice purring and licking his lips from lapping at your skin, which was now patched here and there with his black makeup. His long legs were interlaced with yours, his arms propping him up while he suckled at your throat and slid his hips against your thigh, your bare bodies pressed together. “But we’ve barely gotten started.”

“I mean the room is too fucking hot, idiot.” You shoved at his chest. “God, that air con is less use than you. Hold off, I feel rough.” Everything was going a bit swirly, and breathing the thick hot air felt difficult, and it definitely wasn’t solely because of Copia’s mouth working away on your sensitive neck.

He made an indignant sound but disentangled himself and sat back on his haunches, his brows knitting slightly in concern for you. “Have you been drinking enough? Did you drink water during the ritual, hmm?”

This was, to use a technical and legal term, bullshit. The first time in a long while that your dear Church’s band project had actually found a venue in your own city that would let them hold their thinly-veiled Black Mass, instead of cajoling you into travelling miles and miles to find them, and it had to be at the height of summer in the middle of the worst heatwave you could remember. It was the small hours, blanketed in darkness, and still the air was hot and humid enough to cut a chunk out of with a knife, leaving everything feeling clammy and constricted, sweat stippling all over you and pooling uncomfortably anywhere on your body that stayed folded over against itself for too long. The air conditioning unit was doing its best and the balcony door and windows were open with the silky curtains billowing in the faint, unsatisfying breeze; this was definitely no cheap motel room, but it was just too hot.

And it was fucking ruining the sordid one-night post-show rendezvous you’d been excited for for weeks (in honesty, that you’d been excited for for months, ever since your last holiday visit to the actual Church itself and your last week-long romp with the Cardinal, in celebration of his…promotion). You hadn’t taken any time to enjoy undressing each other, because it was so bastard hot you’d both just wanted to claw off your own clothes and get the air conditioning on your bare skin as quickly as possible. It was proving impossible to even touch each other without the added warmth of aroused flesh on flesh feeling like it was going to blister your skin. And now, instead of enjoying a gleeful filthy reunion in the thickly-blanketed king-sized bed (and on the floor, against the wall, and over the dressing table), you had a banging, spinning headache, and he was scolding your hydration habits like a kindergarten teacher.

He’d had a bottle of champagne put on ice in the room ready for when you arrived, and that was what he was examining now. His ass looked adorable, round and plump perched on the side of the bed, and it was absolutely fucking inhumane that you couldn’t scrape together the energy to sidle up close to him and give it a good squeeze.

“This is no good,” he sighed, squinting at the label. “Alcohol, it’ll only make you feel worse in the heat. Little bit of a waste, really.” Then inspiration seemed to strike. “Aha!”

He replaced the bottle, and instead, scooped up a handful of ice cubes from the bucket triumphantly.

“I’m not sucking on free ice.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “You don’t even know where that water’s come from. Might be rough old tap water that’s been sitting in the freezer for ages.”

“No, no. Not to eat. Here.” He reached out to you, selecting the biggest cube from his handful and returning the others to the the bucket. “Hold out your hand.”

Rather than placing the ice in your hand to hold, as you expected, he held the little cube himself between thumb and forefinger instead, and pressed it softly to your inside wrist when you reached back to him, moving it in light circles over your flushed skin. You took in a small breath from the sting.

“Ice applied to pulse points cools the circulating blood,” he explained, breaking the rhythmic circular pattern every now and then to run the now slippery ice up the length of your forearm and back again. Maybe it was just a placebo, maybe it was more about the rhythm than the temperature, but now after the initial nip of the frozen surface, it did feel soothing. You sighed lightly, watching the ice swirl on your arm, not paying attention to his gaze which was searching your face intently, eyes narrowing ever so slightly at your response.

“Let me try here.” He reached out, closing the gap between you a little more, and brought the fresh cube to the sensitive spot on your neck that he had been nipping at just a few minutes before.

If the ice on your wrist had been hypnotic and soothing like a lick, the sensation on your throat was a determined bite that sent your eyelids fluttering and your breath hitching in surprise and enjoyment.

“Is that nice?” He smirked, nibbling on the edge of his lower lip. “Because that’s a very nice face.” His fingers shifted against your neck, taking the ice between his index and middle finger so he could glide it up and down over your pulse point while also thumbing your jawline gently; all the sensitive spots that usually his hot mouth would minister to. “Mm. If that’s how you usually look when my face is busy buried in your neck, I must try this from a distance more often. Now… lie down.”

You let his empty hand push you back gently onto the sheets by the shoulder. “Turn over,” he added, nudging your legs apart so he could kneel between them, a motion which made your stomach lurch with nervous excitement. They never quite went away, the brief little flutter of nerves and surge of wetness you always felt when he got above you, no matter how many times you reunited.

“Where’s this going?” You obliged him, keeping him between your legs as much as possible while flipping around. Behind you, you felt him lean over and rummage in the ice bucket again. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand come back dripping, with a whole handful of ice.

“Shh. This will be even better, you’ll see.” As he gently placed one hand on the back of your head and tilted it back down, you felt a cold block adorn your shoulders and hummed appreciatively.

He started arranging the cubes like a hot stone massage pattern on your back, his fingertips gliding on your warm skin between them now and then. In fact, he was a little distracted for a moment lining them up along your spine just so, and you stifled a giggle at his fussing, as much because the shaking would have dislodged his artful ice work as because he would have sulked terribly if he thought his efforts weren’t genuinely helping. And actually, they were- the cold was diffusing nicely between the cubes, carried in the water that spread from them across your skin as they began to melt slightly in the hot night air. They were many enough and evenly distributed enough that their touch was an all-over buzz, not a pinpoint cold sting, that was comfortable and soothing on your flushed skin.

“There we go,” he said at last, sitting back to admire his handiwork and resting his hands on your upper thighs. “How’s that feel?”

“Nice,” you confirmed, peering back at him over your shoulder. He leaned over you, his folded legs nestled between yours and one hand propping him up beside your shoulders as he pressed the back of the other to your forehead.

“Mm. Feels a little better.”

“Feels a lot better.” You raised your arm to tug him down beside you, eyes dark. “Now, c’mere.”

“Ah-ah,” he said lightly, batting your hand away playfully. “No wriggling, now.”

You stayed still, but frowned back at his smirk at his decline and instruction. “I don’t remember agreeing we were going to play like that.”

“Uh.“ The teasing tone immediately left his voice and instead became hesitant and worried again. “You don’t want to? You want to stop?”

Damn it, he could be so sweet, the way he turned on a dime for your safety. The way his uncanny eyes widened nervously if you made him pause, and darkened with confidence if you let him take control again. Yes, you had wanted to just drag him astride you and get on with it, but…

Gods, the boyish, pouty anticipation that made its way onto his lined face when he was waiting for your permission…

“...No,” you admitted eventually. “No, I don’t want to stop.” You turned your head back to rest on the sheets, still looking at him out of the corner of your eye, exposing your throat. “Play, then, Your Eminence.”

“Oh, good,” he breathed, and you felt his hand come to rest in the small of your back where melting ice was puddling. In daily life, he seemed to come on go on whether he cared for titles and honorifics or not, but when he had you caught between himself and the nearest flat-ish surface, it was a rather different story. “Alright. Now, remember… no wriggling.”

His fingers went back to drawing idle patterns over your skin between the ice, this time dipping lower over your buttocks and thighs. You sighed, but kept still.

“Good girl,” he murmured lowly, and ironically enough that was what made your hips cant a little bit under his hand, sending water trickling a little here and there. “Ah-ah,” he smirked, “you were doing so well.”

His fingernails dug into your thigh.

“Ow, mmf, “ you huffed, hoping that vocalising it might take away the impetus to arch and sprawl under him. He seemed to be showing mercy when he loosened his grip, but then he dragged those nails up your inner thigh, not quite far enough for you. Your hands kneaded the sheets, trying to re-route your frustration and keep your hips still, but your shoulders rolled and shuddered instead when he let his index and middle finger slide just once down between your legs, barely touching. You tipped your head back, lips bitten. There was ice running down your side, tingling, and his nails now scraping your backside, creating similar sensations.

The vicious smack that landed right across your ass and dangerously near to your increasing wetness was completely unexpected, and brought out of you an embarrassingly squealy sound that started in pain and ended in a moan, driving your hips to buck forwards into the mattress and your shoulders to bunch up wildly. Your sudden motion finally sent all the ice tumbling off your back and down your ribs and thighs.

“Oh, look at that,” he tutted, his voice loaded with condescension as you settled back down, the sting still reverberating on your backside. “You’ve shaken off all my hard work, there.” He patted your stinging behind, ignoring the furious whine you buried in the pillow. “Look, ice water everywhere. I knew I would make you soak the sheets tonight, darling, but I didn’t realise it would be this easy.”

“You cheated.” That sounded childish, but to be fair, he had fucking cheated.

“I do not cheat. The senior clergy is not for cheats. I only exploit existing loopholes and weaknesses,” he said loftily. “Turn back over, now.”

“Cheat,” you mumbled as you rolled again. It wasn’t a worthy comeback at all, but the melted ice you’d shed onto the sheets felt distractingly good under your back.

“Ah, enough of that. Hands above your head,” he instructed sharply, gesturing. You obliged, raising both arms to rest the backs of your hands on the pillow above you, wrists crisscrossed. There was nothing here to bind them with, but you had discovered his taste for that the last time, so you did your best to recreate that effect while he plucked another chip of ice from the bucket.

“I guess if you can’t keep still and behave,” he turned the ice deftly in his fingers, catching the light in it, “I will have to make sure these get where they need to go myself, huh?”

He lowered his hand, and the cold fresh ice came to rest on your nipple.

It stung like a bitch, and you would have made your displeasure vocally known if his other hand hadn’t come up to your other breast, squeezing and stroking, converting your snarl of protest into a slightly confused yelp of enjoyment.

He couldn’t help it, he had to remove the ice with a flourish and dip his head down to lap the water from you. You dug your hands hard enough into the bedsheets to rip cloth, groaning at his warm tongue on the stiff and sensitive skin, and his hair was falling over his eyes when he raised his face again. Then he returned his hand with ice to your body, watching your reactions through messy hair and under thickly-made-up eyelids heavy with lust.

The ice under his palm glided, travelling in slick, hypnotic cooling swirls over your belly and breasts that had you sighing and arching into them, the hard edges scraping over your collarbones. When the cube melted down too small to play with any longer, he left it where it laid to melt away on your skin and plucked another from the bucket.

“I hope you’re ready,” he said brightly.

You didn’t have too much time to work out what you were meant to to be ready for, because the fresh cube went into his palm and straight down to slide over your clit.

“Ooohh, fuck!”

The cold was electric and sent your hips tossing wildly under his hand, although your brain was apparently a little confused about whether it wanted to get away from the ice or rut on it furiously. He didn’t give you much of an option, though, dragging the ice down to your entrance, grinding back against your thrusts, and then gliding back up with only the faintest pressure to circle that sensitive little bundle of nerves. You cursed and begged him- not for anything in particular, just more in general- in the same breath. His hand twisted and cupped firmly, trapping the hot-cold little handful of ice between the heel of his palm and your clit, and allowing the tip of his middle finger to tease your opening.

“Oh, it’s dripping between my fingers.” His exaggeratedly shocked, breathy voice gave you even more reason to squirm against his hand. “I wonder how much of that is melted ice, and how much is your greedy little cunt, needing me.”

That was too much. You stopped being obedient with your hands up, and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down for a needy, slightly drooly deep kiss. You’d hoped it would surprise him, but the little flash of grin you saw before your mouths collided told you, infuriatingly, otherwise.

He only let you attack his lips for a moment, before he tossed his head and pulled back, your hands sliding from his shoulders to rest on his chest. “Oh? I thought you were too hot?” He held his body arched above yours teasingly, his free hand keeping your leg pushed back from hooking around him. His cock was hard and flushed against his soft belly from winding you up like this, but somehow he was resisting his impulses- the only stronger motivator than his constant carnal appetites, apparently, being his love of acting like an utter bastard. “I thought you were far too hot to have my body pressed against you?” He ran his tongue along his lips, struggling to conceal a grin. “All sweaty and sticky… Mhm, terrible.”

“I’m entitled to change my mind.” There was very little dignity to be salvaged here, but you hunted for it anyway, giving him a haughty look.

“Ah, I don’t know,” he murmured doubtfully, giving your thigh a squeeze. “You still look a little warm to me. A little pink in the cheeks, yeah? That’s both sets, by the way. Very cute-”

“Stop being obnoxious and fuck me.” If you ever wrote a memoir about these escapades one day, that was probably going to be the title.

“Hmm.” He idled his hand against you again and you whined. There was heat still in you, alright, but it was a different kind, very deeply seated, and his touch was encouraging it to rise rapidly to the surface. “I don’t know,” he deliberated, “I wouldn’t want you to get all red and dizzy again halfway through.” He smiled, glancing up at the door to the en suite bathroom. “I think I have an idea, though.” He gave you one heavy-lidded, very serious look directly into your eyes as he slowly pulled his hand away from you, drawing out the last little bit of contact until you huffed and twitched at the hips for him. “Wait here until I say, now,” he cautioned, and he slipped away and off the bed, walking into the bathroom slightly bow-legged to manage his arousal.

The sound of surging water echoed in the bathroom. You raised your head, curious, but flopped back down again, just enjoying not having to move or concentrate on anything. Whatever; he would lure you over in due time.

“Come in and join me,” sure enough, his call came from behind the ajar door presently. You mustered all your effort and sat up in the sheets, damp with ice water and sweat, and approached the door, still feeling a little weak at the knees.

It was a pretty plush bathroom; all grey tiles and marble. The bath was an elegant, broad thing, set into a raised block with steps in the middle of the room, and it was in this that he was now partly reclined, smirking, the water just reaching over his belly.

“It’s cold.” He leaned over in the half-filled tub, scooping up the cool water in both hands and raising his arms above his head, letting it trickle down him. “Come in,” he repeated, making sure you could see his hand spreading the cold water around on his torso, ruffling his chest hair. “You’ll feel so much better.”

He tilted his head as you took the high steps into the bath, staring with rapt attention between your legs as if your sex was something new and secret that he hadn’t already been tormenting just five minutes previously.

“Can’t believe you’ve left me the tap end.” You stood and wrinkled your nose down at him, trying not to let it show how nice the cold water was feeling on your feet.

“Don’t be silly,” he purred, one cool, wet hand catching your shin. “Sit in my lap. You can lean back on me and relax.”

You turned and craned over your shoulder awkwardly, lowering into the water between his knees. His made an impatient noise and his hands pawed at your hips as you sat, drawing you back.

“Just making sure I don’t sit on anything essential.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he slid an arm fully around your waist, pulling you back to recline against his chest. The cold water lapped further up your body, a delicious relief. “When you do, it’ll be wholly intentional.” You could hear the obnoxious grin in his voice, and feel his cock still firm against the small of your back, only a little bit diminished by the cold.

He scooped a cupped palm into the cold water beside you and raised it, gently, to your chin, pouring it across your flushed collarbones. It was divinely cooling. He must have appreciated the way you tensed a little at the cold and then sighed with enjoyment, as he kissed the top of your head and made the slightest muffled “mmph” sound into your hair while he scooped up another palm of cold water.

It was working on both of you; there was no discomfort now in feeling his chest pressed to your back. And from his point of view, the puddles of soothing water he was tipping onto your chest split deliciously into separate rivulets as they ran back down your breasts, decorating your curves and crowning your nipples like dew or rain on a lush flower. The next few handfuls of water he carefully let run down your flushed cheeks from your temples, wiping some across your hairline.

“Oh, I thought you didn’t like getting it on your face,” he mused, and you growled and rolled your eyes in response, just wanting more water right now, not his bullshit. Suitably chastised, he went back to silently bathing your front, interspersing handfuls of water with trails of his cool fingers over your neck and chest. You head fit nicely into the crook of his neck, and you let yourself relax into him. He liked that little hint of slight submission; his head tilted so that his cheek could nuzzle into your hair like a cat.

After a while his hand returned to your waist, then quickly slid down a little from there under the waterline, his fingers kneading gentle circles on your lower belly. You stretched against him, raising your hips, encouraging his ministrations lower.

His wandering fingers found their mark, gliding easily against your swollen lips under the cold water.

You arched lazily against him, enjoying the pleasure, but soon wanting for more. You reached back, feeling your way up his neck to stroke his jaw and cup the back of his head, and turned your face upwards to him, pushing his down to you. It wasn’t a very easy angle, but it was utterly, utterly worth the neck and shoulder strain to hear and feel him moan into your kiss, your hand tangled in the roots of his hair, his hand working even harder under the shallow water. The pleasure of the cool bath was mingling with the pleasure of his rubbing fingers and your respective delicious noises, and the ascent he’d brought you partway up before with his cupping, ice-filled palm was building back up again. You tugged his hair back, reluctantly breaking the kiss to speak, although feeling his cock twitch against your back as you did so momentarily drove what you were trying to say from your mind. “Alright, that’s enough,” you breathed once you recovered your senses, still rolling your fingers in his hair. “I’m ready, I’m so ready. Please, Cardinal, you gorgeous old bastard, just fuck me.”

He made a guttural noise that wasn’t immediately identifiable, but was definitely an affirmative in one language or another, and rocked his hips a little. He was really enjoying that tugging and stroking in his thick hair. Gripping either side of the tub you raised yourself in his lap and his free hand moved under you, the other still tucked between your legs. You felt him guide himself into position, his tip teasing your lips, and at his urging purr behind you you lowered yourself onto him.

You weren’t sure if it was the addition of the water or how well-prepared you’d been, but he was quick to hilt in you and while he couldn’t move much, he encouraged you to set up a steady pace with his free hand under your thigh, adding his lift to your rise and fall in his lap. All the while, two of his fingers continued to play between your thighs, shifting from flickering firmly on your clit to parting and massaging your filled lips and back again, working over every inch of sensitive skin.

This wasn’t going to last that long for either of you. Awkward as the position was in terms of the limited space and hard enamel of the tub, he was hitting all sorts of nice spots inside you from this angle, and he was deliciously vocal as always, matching your own soft but erratic sounds each time you sank down and took him deeper. The impending peak sat like a bowling ball in your belly, it just needed a little more push.

“Ahh, yes, Copia sweetheart, like that…” It was a lot of effort to shape your groaning into actual words, but it was worth it to encourage him. He liked hearing you drop your combative front and give him cute little monikers, and labour the foreign structure of his name, one you’d never quite get exactly right, but he enjoyed it all the more for that. “Oh, fuck, I’ve been waiting on this for weeks. I need to come for you… mmh, c’mon, harder-”

“Such a greedy, needy girl.” His voice was thick, more and more heavily accented, losing concentration- but exuding sex and roughness. He picked up on what you were after right away. “So bossy even when you need my help satisfying yourself. Were you wet tonight, watching me captivate everyone earlier, huh? Knowing it was you I’d be taking into my bed later?”

“Mmh, yes,” you breathed, increasing your pace slightly bouncing in his lap, trying not to let your tongue loll out like a thirsty dog- not yet, anyway. “So… wet. Oh, I- uhh-”

It wasn’t quite the contribution you’d planned to make, but it was the best you could manage.

“Soaking through your clothes for me while I teased? While I showed myself in my tight clothes in front of all those people?” His short nails dug painfully hard into your thigh, but the feeling was pale in comparison to the heavy cloud of pressure so close to bursting between your legs. “So shameless,” he purred into the shell of your ear over your choked impatient sounds, “I bet when you see me it’s all you can do not to slide your hand into your pants to play with your wet, aching little cunt right then and there, right in front of me and everyone else.” And he punctuated that with a firm smack, not as hard as earlier but directly across your swollen clit and outer lips, from the hand that had been massaging and flickering on you all this time.

That was all you needed. “Oh fuck, yes, that’s- ahh!”

He must have been holding himself back, because as soon as your voice cracked into a string of frantic cries he made a rasping, dark sound of his own and his arm around your hip became a vice, clamping your writhing hips to him as he buried his pulsing release as deep inside as possible. Still cresting your own wave and feeling his climax in vivid detail too, you had just enough wherewithal to reach back and shove your fingers into his hair again and pull cruelly- just a little fair payment for the use of the flat of his palm now and earlier- and the agonised roll of his whole spine and much higher, noiser gasp that that elicited from him sent a second smaller but no less toe-curling wave through you, moaning each other’s names hungrily.

You sank back from where your orgasm had sent you sitting bolt upright in his lap, resting again on his water-droplet-speckled and now heaving chest. A little wiggling and manhandling eased the pair of you apart, which was an even stranger sensation than usual under water, and the way a little patch of thicker whiteness blossomed like smoke in the plain water between your thighs in his wake managed to look dirty, fascinating and sweet all at once. He nuzzled firmly into the top of your head again, crooning quietly in a jumble of languages to himself, and his arms both wrapped around your waist, his thumbs circling the wet skin of your sides where they rested.

Presently both your breathing slowed back down, falling into the same rhythm. “Don’t fall asleep,” you said gently, reaching up and back to pat his cheek.

“Mmh,” he started against you a little bit at the touch. “Just, uh, resting my eyes.”

“We should probably get out of this thing.” You dabbled a hand lazily on the top of the water, spreading ripples. It was no longer ice-cold and fresh.

“And into that hot bed? With covers?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Hmm.” He tightened his arms around your torso, keeping you close. “Or just stay here, no?”

“Well, we could always order a fresh bottle of champagne. You know.” Your hand sank deeper in the water beside you, and you ran your palm from his knee up to his hip. “With an ice bucket.”

He made a thoughtful sound.

“And charge it to management.”

You could hear the grin sneaking back into his voice. “That is... very true. We could do that.”

[voyages-extraordinaires]

C:R ~VE~ Chapter 27 (EXPLICIT VERSION)

This is the explicit version of this chapter that contains graphic sex between Aronnax and Nemo. Please proceed to the former chapter if you wish to read the non-explicit version.

---

Though we spend a great deal of our in the epipelagic zone, where sunlight can easily penetrate, I feel an excited pit form in my stomach whenever Nemo announces that we’ve passed into the mesopelagic zone.

The twilight ocean.

Though sunlight technically reaches these depths, it is not enough for photosynthesis to occur. However, while there is no plant life, animal life is a different matter. Not a full day is out before I’ve already spotted a swordfish that’s easily over three meters long!

I wonder how many of my journals I’ll be able to fill in two weeks? It’s hard to sketch moving creatures, but the challenge is exhilarating!

When the porthole looks empty, I occupy myself by talking to Cardia about the routine checks and maintenance for the Harper. It’s not that I don’t love helping Impey and Nemo, but Cardia speaks in a language that’s easier for a beginner like me to understand.

I hardly ever have a moment of free time, but when I do, of course Barbicane happens to peer over my shoulder.

“Woaahh! So you can draw more than just scientific specimens!”

My face flushes and he leans over to look at my sketching.

“Oh man, you’ve got her down perfectly!” Barbicane suddenly plucks my journal from my hands. “Cardia-chan, my angel, put on paper!”

“Don’t you have better things to do?” I ask. “Like getting some sleep or–”

“Oh, Polly-chan, what’s the harm of a little fun? Come on, I want to show her!”

“B-Barbicane, wait!!”

But l might as well be chasing after a rabbit he sprints so quickly through the door.

Cardia is sitting on her bunk, having a quiet moment with a warm cup of coffee and a biscuit.

“Cardia-chan, look at this! She did a pretty good job, right?!”

Cardia looks at the journal that Barbicane is offering to her, and I stand behind him, almost too nervous to watch.

But she smiles and looks at me with a gentle expression. “It’s amazing. This must be really hard to do.”

“No, not …. not really…” I stammer. “I mean, I’ve been practicing art since I was a little girl. It just takes time and practice…”

But Cardia’s looking at the sketch I made as though it were magic.

I take a deep breath and say, “Hold that thought.”

I quickly turn around and walk back into the salon, headed straight for the bookshelf embedded into the wall. Though Nemo has most of these shelves dedicated to science (with a surprising amount of philosophy peppered about), the bottom shelf is entirely filled with blank books.

I pull one out and leaf through it before returning to the bunks and handing it to Cardia. “Here you are.”

She blinks up at me curiously before gingerly taking the book from my hands. “What is this?”

“Your journal,” I say.

“Mine?” she repeats.

“Start with something small, like a spoon or even a bolt,” I say. “Observe it, connect your mind to your pen, and draw what you see.”

Cardia’s smile falters. “It won’t look anything like what I see, though.”

“That’s why you can’t stop,” I say. “Every page you fill is a world of experiences, Cardia. Besides, I’m sure your number one fan would love to see whatever you do.”

“That’s right!” Barbicane points to himself triumphantly. “I believe in you, Cardia! Maybe someday you can draw my stunning physique!” He strikes a pose. “Like Polly-chan drew Nemo a few pages back!”

“BARBICANE!!” the color drains from my face.

—–

The next time we surface, Nemo gives the controls to Barbicane before climbing up the hatch. I begin to do a routine check of the bridge when I hear Nemo’s booming voice through the submarine.

“PROOOOOOOOOOFESSOR!”

I shake my head and climb up the ladder after him. When I reach the top rung, Nemo grabs my arm and pulls me up, a wide smile on his face.

Since the Harper took off, we hadn’t had much time to see each other alone. Granted, it’s only been a few days, but after working next to someone for so long, it’s lonely to suddenly be apart.

“The stars are so bright out here…” I say as I walk along the top of the Harper. “It reminds me of when were were in the airship.”

I look back at Nemo with a smile, and watch as he lifts a sextant to the sky. He really does look like a sailor like this, and I sigh as he writes down his findings.

“Captain Nemo…”

“Hrm?” Nemo peers around the navigational device to look at me.

“What, don’t you think it has a nice ring to it?”

Nemo looks at me, his lips drawn thin, processing my words. Then he opens his mouth and says: “Say it again.”

“What? Captain Nemo?”

His posture stiffens, and he jerkily pulls his goggles up onto his forehead. His eyes are sparkling with delight.

“It’s…. it’s….”

He suddenly bounds over and squeezes me tight. “PEEEERFEEEEEEEEEECT!! My sweet, cute, daaaaarling Professor! Say it again, say it–!”

“C-Captai—” My words are cut off as he spins me around and rubs his nose against mine.

“Ahoy up there!” Barbicane bangs on the ladder. “Are we going to get our coordinates sometime tonight?”

“Riiiiiiiiiiight, right!” Nemo grins down the hatch before I yank him back to me and kiss him. He jolts in surprise but soon leans forward, and we melt like both of us had forgotten how good it was to touch each other.

He tries to speak, but each time he opens his mouth, I cut him off with another kiss. Finally, he whines in frustration and puts a finger to my lips. “Neeeeext shift… let’s catch up, shall we~?”

He winks.

“I want to hear aaaaalll about the things you’ve seen! Tell me eeeeevery detail!” he strikes a flamboyant pose. “And then—!”

Nemo lifts my chin and bends down towards me, but his eyes snap back open and focus on something past me.

“Get below,” he speaks quickly.

I turn around and glimpse a small shape on the horizon before Nemo ushers me back into the Harper.

Barbicane looks over at Nemo as he climbs down and closes the hatch behind us.

“Think they’ve spotted us?” he asks.

“It soon won’t matter whether they have or noooot!” Nemo puts his goggles back on as he looks outside one of the portholes. “Soon, we will be nothing more than a mirage, a trick of the sky itself! ENGINES—”

“Yeah, yeah, prepare to dive, got it!” Barbicane waves before making his way back to the engine room.

As Nemo pulls a lever and we begin to descend to the safety of the deep, I focus my eyes on the ship far-off in the distance

.....

An hour passes. Instead of focusing on the life passing by the salon’s porthole I find myself constantly glancing upwards towards the suface. With every shadow that passes, a ball forms in the pit of my stomach, sitting like a brick.

I don’t know why I feel so nervous, ships are a common thing. But perhaps I am afraid that a British flag will unfurl, and we’ll find ourselves in combat with Victoria in international waters.

I sink into the lounge and hang my head. Right now, more than anything, I need sleep. But there’s no way my anxiety will release its grip on me so easily.

I don’t even look up when I hear the salon door open and shut. There’s some shuffling and the sound of a seat moving before silence falls once again. Then, Bach once again graces my ears.

I slowly look back up. The music is a perfect backdrop to the ocean flowing past us. It’s energizing, and I manage to tear my eyes from the porthole to watch Nemo play.

His hair, damp from bathing, it tied back into a low braid hanging down his back. He’s dressed down considerably, simply wearing his usual turtleneck and a pair of leather pants. Somehow, this wardrobe and the lack of his usual makeup makes him look almost… “normal”. It’s not better or worse than his usual, just different.

“You have to be tired,” I say as I stand up and walk over to him. “Surely you can spare a few hours to get some sleep.”

I reach out and gently begin to rub his back in slow circles.

He continues to play, as though I’m not even there. I stand there and watch his skilled fingers move perfectly over the keys.

Finally, a long note plays, signalling the end of Nemo’s performance.

“You’re a very braaaaave woman to interrupt a madman’s concentration,” he says, a slow smile stretching on his lips.

Even without his lipstick on, Nemo’s lips are dark and very soft when I bend down to kiss him.

“I’d say that I’m more selfish than brave,” I say. “Selfishness can push me where bravery can’t.”

I sit down on the bench next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

“I think… even in an airship sailing high through the clouds… I don’t think even the heights could keep me from you. That’s just how powerful my selfishness is.”

Nemo squints at me, then bites his lip, his shoulders shaking. Finally, he throws his head back and laughs so loudly that the pipe organ hums.

It takes awhile, but eventually he calms down enough to form a coherent sentence. “Y-you couldn’t budge an iiiiiiiiiiinch when we were on that tiny, tiny airship! What makes you think you’d suddenly be able to… haha… hahahahahaa!! If you were on something that could go as high as the Nautilus, you’d be in teeeeears!”

Nemo bends over and leans his head on my shoulder, still trembling from laughter.

“The Nautilus...” I look away from him and shake my head. “I don’t think it would be the height that would frighten me so much as its raw power. It was... incredible...”

Nemo puts his hand on my cheek, turning me so that I have to look at him.  

It would be so easy for me to lose myself in those deep eyes, burning like the sunset.

“You’re more afraid of the creation than the architect.”

It wasn’t a question, which was refreshing because it meant that he already knew the answer.

His hand is so warm, and I lean into it without thinking.

“I was afraid of you when we first met, Nemo. I would have been a fool not to be. But you still have so much more to give the world!”

“I knooooow~” Nemo smiles, looking off into the distance. “I have so many great things planned, my mind can hardly contaaaain them!”

“I want to hear all about them! But first...” I stand up and take him by the hand, leading him to the porthole.

“Look at what you’ve done for me already,” I say, holding tightly onto his arm. I point out to the blue expanse, sunlight filtering through the water in crystalline rays.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a little girl. I’d sit in my wardrobe and pretend that it was a magnificent underwater ship.”

I wrap my arm around him, leaning my head against his chest so I can feel his heartbeat while looking out at the water.

“I’d always take my grandfather’s anthology of Plato’s dialogues in there with me and read them over and over. I couldn’t understand any of it, but I thought if I repeated it enough, my brain would somehow absorb the information. Somehow I’d gain the knowledge to find the lost continent of Atlantis!”

Nemo raises an eyebrow at me.

“Don’t give me that look, it’s embarrassing,” I say with a sheepish laugh. “I was just a kid, remember? But... Atlantis or not, I’m still able to re-live something special because of you. How could I be afraid now?”

I turn to him, my eyes sparkling. “I want more of these adventures. All the darkness and danger that goes along with it, too! Take me in the sky with you, won’t you? No matter how much I tremble... don’t stop. Make me experience it all, sea and sky.”

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. “I want to see everything you can create. Science won’t wait for me to get over my fears.”

“Hee hee hee...” Nemo begins to undo my bun, stroking my hair as it falls down my shoulders. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to saaaaaaaaaay such things to me, the ousted Lord of the Sky?”

A dangerous grin stretches across his face. “I miiiiiight decide to keep you all to myself, and never let you walk upon the blasted earth agaaaaaiin!”

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his wicked smile again. “I think I could handle you, but that’s a risk I guess I’ll have to take... my captain.”

Nemo suddenly grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the porthole. His breathing is ragged as begins to hike up my skirt around my waist. The glass feels cool on my buttocks, and I blush when I realize how exposed I am.

“Nemo, what if someone...”

Nemo bends down to my height and looks at me with a serious expression. “Who...? The fiiiiiiiiiiish? Do you not want the fish to seeeee us?”

He pulls out a dagger and toys with it.

“You don’t want them to see your laaaaaacy garter belt?” his laugh is dark as he tugs at one of my stocking straps until it smacks back against my skin, making me yelp.

He undoes my tie and tosses it aside before proceeding to unhook the buttons of my blouse.

“But reeeeeeeeally, professor, modesty has no place here in my realm! Ahh.... but that sounds like the fun beginnings of a story, don’t you thiiiiiiink?  A pretty professor held in a metal prison deep below the sea, where ‘nobody’ lays claim… Her mind is used in the progress of science, and her body…”

He grazes the tip of his blade down my sternum  and flicks it under the front clasp of my bra.

“…Is used for the amorous desires of the geeeeenius scientist who holds her captive!”

He pulls the dagger up until it rips through the fabric, my breasts falling free. He stands there silently for a moment, examining the way my chest rises and falls with each breath. My nipples begin to ache, and with a smirk he grazes one with the back of his hand. His touch felt electric, and I arch my back for more.

“You really are a maaaaa~soooo~chiiiiist~ to be enjoying this scenario! How sad, how siiiiiiick---!” 

He flicks his dagger over and pushes its handle against my panties. I bite my lip as he nudges it past my vulva and gently begins to rotate it in a slow circle, seeking out my clitoris.

I groan and arch my hips pleadingly when he pulls it away.

He slides the dagger under my panties, and I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Wait...” my voice is hoarse. “Please, this is one of my favorite pairs...” I look at him with half-lidded eyes. “I’ll make it up to you...”

I lean forward and push my breasts against his chest, whispering in his ear: “...Captain Nemo...”

The dagger clatters to the floor, forgotten as Nemo quickly reaches around and digs his fingers into my hips and buttocks. He buries his head in my shoulder, sucking at my skin as his hands desperately pinch and grab at whatever flesh of mine he can reach.

I gasp at his sudden ferocity, shivering as he loops his fingers in the fabric of my panties and snaps them before stepping back.

“Theeeeeeeen I’d suggest you hurry and get them off!”

With a giggle he pulls his sweater over his head and tosses it onto the lounge, and I barely have time to kick my panties off before he is in my arms, holding me tight to him. I can feel both of our heartbeats like this.

I glance down and smile when I see that he’s already unhooked his pants, and I reach for my prize.

But he grabs me by the wrist, a crazed grin twisting his face.

“My pretty, pretty professoooooooor... I haven’t given you permission...”

“Oh?” I pout. “Are you going to ask me to beg, Captain?”

“Ha.... hahaha... aaaaa----hahahahahahahaaaaa-----!!!”

I wince at his booming laugh, and wince again when he grabs me by the shoulder and turns me over, shoving my cheek against the glass.

“Oh no no nooooo! You’re not going to get the chaaaaaaaaaaaaaance to beg!”

I yelp in surprise when he suddenly lifts me, holding me up by my legs so they’re spread wide.

I’m completely exposed. Even if the ocean is my only witness, being put on display like this makes me ache with both humiliation and desire. I feel so swollen, so agonizingly empty!

“Yeeeeess... you see yourself in the reflection there, don’t you?”

I look up, locking eyes with my reflection in the porthole. I look so needy, I feel my stomach turn in revulsion and arousal.

I curl my toes when I feel Nemo nudge the tip of his penis against my vaginal entrance. I look back up at our reflection, and I see the glint of his smile as he begins to rub himself against the length of my vulva.

“That sweeeeeet expression you’re making-- and this angelic body-- both are about to be sullied by meeeeeeeee, Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemooooooo----!”

With this loud declaration, he plunges into me.

I almost lose control when I see how hungrily my body eats him up. I can feel my vaginal walls throbbing against him, welcoming him, pleading for him to fill me over and over again.

He begins to pull out, slowly, and I twitch when I see each of his piercings slowly slide out from inside of me. It’s almost like they’re a unit of measurement-- deep, deeper, all the way...

My fingers twitch when he thrusts back in.

“Noooooow then, my dear! Why don’t we show the sea itself just where you beloooooooong!”

Thrust.

“Impaled!”

Another thrust.

“Twisting and convulsing--- a disgusting display of humanity’s basic instincts--!!”

I spasm as I feel his tip hit my cervix.

“But it feels gooood... doesn’t it... to give in like this? To give into meeeeee?”

He stops, waiting for me to answer.

“Yes...”

He still doesn’t move, and I squeeze my muscles in an attempt to coax him back inside. In response, he begins to pull out.

I cry in desperation: “Yes! God, fuck me---!!”

He cackles, rewarding my obedience by doing just that.

He’s so stiff, and the sensation of his piercings on top of that are driving me crazy. I can barely concentrate, focusing my vision on his beautiful cock pounding into my eager body.

My mind, foggy with lust, begins to think-- the Nautilus was a terrifying creation, a modern Tower of Babel, and yet...

Yet, I find myself wishing that I had been up there with him, that he would’ve taken me like this--! For all of London to see!

The force of my orgasm rips through me like lightning, and I can barely keep my eyes open to watch my reflection convulse.

In response, Nemo begins to rock his hips instead of thrusting, grinding his shaft against my sensitive insides. It feels heavenly.

As I begin to calm, as my muscles begin to relax, I realize that Nemo is still stiff inside of me.

“My~ you sure do finish quickly, doooon’t you?”

He staggers back, his own body trembling as he sits down on the chaise lounge, with me on his lap.

“Well then... are you ready to continuuuue?”

I look back at him and shake my head. “You stopped me before... but now you’ll let me have a taste, right?”

I open my mouth and let my tongue loll out, mimicking one of his expressions.

I take advantage of Nemo’s shocked expression to stand up, shuddering as Nemo’s stiff member slides out and rests on his stomach, twitching with need.

“My cute scientist...” I purr. “You might have me captive, but I have ways of getting what I want in the end.”

I kneel down between his legs and put my lips on his shaft. I can feel the blood quickly pumping through it, letting me know how badly he needs this release. The heat radiating from his skin is intoxicating, and I eagerly let my tongue roam over his shaft, pausing to gently suck on each barbell decorating his penis.

He arches his hips and hisses. “This isn’t the time to tease me, Pauliiiiiine--!”

I smile as I slide the head of Nemo’s penis into my mouth. Finally, it feels like I’ve waited eons to feel his incredible heat! I feel him twitching inside of me, stiffening even further at my doting affections.

If a twisted part of Nemo still desires to be worshiped, then I will gladly fulfill that fantasy for him!

I eagerly try to fit more of him into my mouth, cupping his scrotum as my lips slide farther down his shaft.

Nemo rewards me with a loud moan, opening his legs wider and propping his foot up on the lounge. I look up at him and watch as he begins to lift his hips and thrust into me, forcing his length deeper into my yielding mouth.

I give a needy moan of my own, but I freeze when I realize that Barbicane and Cardia have likely been forced to listen to us this whole time. That break in concentration is enough for the ring in Nemo’s foreskin to rub against my throat, and I begin gagging.

I quickly slide him out of my mouth and collapse to the floor of the submarine, putting a hand to my neck as I cough. My eyes sting with tears, and I quickly wipe them as I look back up at Nemo.

He’s sprawled on the chaise lounge, his hips twitching as he lightly bucks into the air, looking at me with half-lidded eyes.

“Professoooor…” he whines. “Leaving me like this… it’s so cruel…!”

He’s so cute, I can’t resist teasing him like this.

I playfully lean in-between his legs and kiss his frenulum, running my tongue along his ring

.“You have such a lovely cock, Nemo…” I purr. “Glistening with sweat, and decorated so nicely…”

I tilt his penis forward so I can suck on the very tip.

“I caaaaan’t--!!” Nemo thrusts his hips up, and when I feel his penis begin to pulse I take him in as deep as I can without choking.

The throbbing intensifies, and Nemo lets out a deep groan as the first spurt of his semen fills my mouth. It’s warm, thick, and bitter, and I can’t help but moan as I swallow it. This act feels so incredibly intimate, there’s nothing else like it.

Nemo’s staring at me, his lip twitching as his body convulses. He reaches out his hand and threads his fingers through my hair as the second, third, fourth spurts fill my mouth.

It’s all I can do not to choke, and a trail of his semen begins to leak down my chin. Nemo gives a light whimper and I slow down my movements, realizing how sensitive he must be.

I lock eyes with him as I slowly release him from my lips. My brain feels hazy as I open my mouth, his semen dribbling down my tongue.

For once, Nemo is silent, just watching the spectacle of his white cream dripping from my mouth.

I laugh lightly as I catch the threads of his ejaculate with my hands and bring them to my mouth, cleaning myself off.

He’s still staring, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

“Nemo...” I sit up and gently lick the oozing remnants of his orgasm away from his tip. “I told you I have ways of getting what I want... Cap~tain~...”

-----

I settle in against Nemo’s chest, both of us sprawled out on the chaise lounge.

It’s a long time before one of us speaks.

“A part of me... does wish I could have seen the Nautilus in person,” I admit.

Nemo giggles.

“The Nautilus was a great masterpiece…” his voice is hoarse from exertion. “But it wasn’t my fiiiiinaaaal one… once we get back to land, I’m going to design the perfect airship… faster and sleeker than anything the world has seen… yeeeees… beautiful enough to even eclipse my Naaauutiluusss…”

He closes his eyes, content in whatever fantasy he’s cooking up for himself.

“And when that happens, yes… oh yes, I’ll take you up there, Professor. Again and again… and again… I’ll be the one… to graaant… all…. yoooour…dreeeeeeeaaams…… and I’ll never go back to the ground… ever… ever……..”

The next time he opens his mouth, it’s in a deep snore.

I nuzzle my cheek into his bare chest before falling asleep myself.

.....

“Oy, Nemo!”

I jolt when I hear Barbicane’s voice. I sleepily look over to the voice tube that Barbicane is speaking through.

“Mmm…” Nemo frowns, scrunching his nose in displeasure. “Impeeeeeey… Barbicane…. this had better be impoooooortant…”

“Hey, listen, I didn’t want to interrupt you, either! Man, I can’t believe you couldn’t keep it in your pants for a week! My poor angel and I have been huddled up here wearing noise cancelers and they STILL weren’t enough! Aren’t you supposed to be focused on science?! Tch!! Why’d it have to be you…”

I sit up and hastily begin buttoning up my blouse, shame making my entire body flush red.

Nemo stretches before leaning back and casually lacing his fingers behind his head. He doesn’t even acknowledge Barbicane’s complaints, instead asking: “Sooooooo….?”

Barbicane sighs. “We’re being hailed via the aether transmitter. Must be a strong one to reach this deep, I didn’t even think it was possible!”

Nemo’s frown deepens as he repeats: “Sooooooooooooo…..?”

“SO, we’re being hailed! At first I thought someone was in trouble, but… well, listen for yourself!”

There’s a sharp whine as Barbicane relays the transmission over the voice tube.

“—essor! If you can hear me, please respond! Professor!”

I leap to my feet, realization spreading through me.

“Conseil--!”

[yukipri]

Main Home Floor Plans

(of the poly family in my YOI Future!Verse ABO AU)

So! Here they are the floor plans of the big poly family's main home.

NOTE: I know jackshit about architecture or real floor plan drawing, and this was meant to just be a fun imagination exercise/reference for myself for my comics, so just roll with it ^ ^;;

Headcanons beneath cut! Also full view to see the teeny ass text...

For an easier to view version of this post + my earlier draft of their home, please check out my Patreon!

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s a Yuri!!! on Ice AU, Yuuri-centric with end-game polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri gets married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS and timeline of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

A SUPER DETAILED world-building headcanons post on ABO+ in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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Headcanons below!! VVVVV

I say "Main Home" here because they do have multiple homes, at least one in each mate's home country (pretty hugeass ones in St. Petersburg and outskirts of Bangkok), but this is their "home base" so to speak.

It's located in Hasetsu, and without researching too much into Karatsu's actual layout in rl, I'm placing it somewhere within long but manageable jogging distance to both the Ice Castle and Yuuri's parents' inn. A lot of Japanese rural towns (including my own hometown) have slowly been losing their traditional single storey homes and ricefields and have been turning them into apartment complexes to maximize money yield. In this AU, I HC that Victor and Phichit bought one of these lots and turned it into a huge ass fancy mansion for their family. Again, in this AU those two are filthy rich (though Minami also comes from money), and given the very rural location of their home, the location should be comparatively affordable. Given their family's fame and the amount of frequent travel they do, I figure it's okay for them to want their main home away from big cities and in a place harder for fans/paparazzi to stalk them.

In general, their home is modern but homey, more cream and natural wood colors over pure white, with areas that are more traditional Japanese. Each personal area is customized to its inhabitant’s liking.

While I think most of the rooms are pretty self-explanatory/I haven't thought that much about them myself, here's a floor by floor breakdown of some of the important rooms and what they're used for.

F1 (G) - Ground Floor

Main Entryway - Is traditional Japanese style, very large area where people can take off shoes, big ass shoe cubies on both sides where both family and guests can store their shoes. Inside the home, in general no shoes except in the basement floors.

Living Area - Main area to entertain guests/chill. Tons of couches, super plush carpets to roll around in, huge ass glass doors with a great view of the back yard to watch kids through. Small movie theater screen can descend from the ceiling in front of said glass doors.

Kitchen - Pretty big but manageable domain, everyone considers it Phichit's domain whenever he's home but Yurio spends a lot of time in there too. Also has a small corner for kids to watch parents cook/help if it's a task that requires some extra table space.

Bar - Victor and Chris especially like chilling here, another great guest entertaining spot. Tons of alcohol beneath counter.

Dining Area - Has a huge round table that can fit all of their main family members and a few guests. Because it's so large and therefore impossible to reach around, it's Chinese dim sum table style, with a center that can rotate. It's fantastic because plenty of room for everyone, but it can also be pretty lonely when a lot of people are away, in which case the present family members may choose to dine in another area.

Chill Area/Music Area - Another place with lovely carpet and nice couches, also a grand piano bc every Rich House needs one of those right AHAHAH (of the kids, Arisa plays most).

Study Room/Library - Has lots of tables and computers and books in every language. A good place to chill, but also where Minami likes to tutor the kids. Sitting at the tables gives a great view of the back yard.

Back 2nd building (with kitchen/dining/living) - Second entirely unnecessary smaller building in the back, most important feature is the elevator, which goes through all the floors.

Back yard - Lots of pretty lawn and nice cobbled paths. Is completely enclosed by a stone wall high enough to discourage trespassers but low enough to not feel cut off from the rest of the world (and allow in neighborhood cats, but keep the dogs safely in when they're romping free). Yurio is half-assedly attempting a vegetable garden in the corner with varying levels of success. They like having barbecue parties in the summer, followed by mini fireworks <3 Victor and Chris like skinny dipping in the pool in the middle of winter, Yuuri and the others will watch from the balconies thanks. There's also an area in the back that has a retractable cover, which can look down into the giant communal bath in basement 1.

F2 - 2nd Floor

The "Parents' Floor," also has open areas that look down into the 1st floor and up into the 3rd floor, makes the ceiling feel super tall in those areas :'D

Nest - The biggest main feature of this floor. A huge room with an enormous round bed, it's heavily padded and shaped a bit like a very shallow and plush bowl filled with blankets and pillows. Any of the family can sleep there, and it's usually the favorite place to sleep. Can fit all the main family members including the kids when they're a bit older comfortably. Also has some nice lil tables and desks and a huge veranda overlooking the backyard if people just want to chill. Absolutely no sex allowed in this room because kids can come in at any time.

Other Communal Sleep Room - Also known as "The Icky Room" by the kids, aka the communal room for when the adults are feeling frisky >.>; If people are doing stuff in that room, it's okay for the other adults to assume it's an open invitation to join. Also has a very big bed that can comfortably fit most of the adults at once, and also a very large jacuzzi bath for cleanup...The kids have all had their own Experiences TM, but in general have learned to steer clear if they hear Noises.

Yuuri's Room - All bedrooms are the private domains of the individual, and everyone needs to knock and get permission to enter. Most of the time people prefer to sleep in the Nest, but it's important to have a private space too. Also holds personal belongings, personal closet, etc.

Yuuri doesn't have as many belongings as some of his mates (other than merch of Victor which he absolutely won't get rid of HAHA) and has a relatively small closet as someone who doesn't particularly care for fashion. That being said, he's the most likely to invite a husband or more to come join him, so his private bed is the biggest.

Phichit's Room - While he can't be at home as much of the others especially when he's younger, he needs access to all of his work when he happens to be home, so has a decently sized office attached to his room. Has a big walk in closet and shares a bathroom and veranda with Yuuri, reliving their good ol days as roommates. Also has 3 enormous glass tanks for his hamsters, which Yuuri and the kids take care of when he's away.

Victor's Room + Yurio's Room - These two honestly don't spend that much time in their own rooms except to access their huge ass wardrobes, but again having a private place to retreat to when needing space is important. They share a bathroom and veranda.

Minami's Room - While he assumed he was a guest, he intentionally asked for a room close to the nursery so he could sprint in to take care of the kids before they bothered their parents. He, like Yuuri, has comparatively little in personal belongings (except for Yuuri merch, which he also stubbornly refuses to let go of). Has his own private bathroom, which is nice because he frequently stains it with hair dye...

Chris's Room + Otabek's Room - While technically "guest rooms,” they stay so frequently and for so long that they more or less naturally became "their" rooms. They're across the wing from Victor and Yurio and mirror their rooms in most ways.

Nursery - Easily accessible to both Yuuri and Minami, though the kids weren't there often as they often sleep next to their parents in the Nest or their respective rooms. Also partially taken over by cats, who think the cribs make excellent cat beds...

F3 - 3rd Floor

The "Kids' Floor," pretty much has the same cut outs looking down into the first floor as the 2nd floor.

Big Chill Area - Directly above the Nest and is very open, with a veranda that overlooks the veranda of the Nest. Good place to chill and roll around in. Also connects to several other pretty big rooms for specialized activities for the kids.

The Twins' Rooms - Were offered separate rooms but they asked that the wall be torn down so they could share the space. They have a hugeass walk-in closet honestly bigger than any of their parents' because they haven't learned moderation. They also like having their beds pressed together into one larger bed. Their veranda overlooks Phichit + Yuuri's. Share a bathroom with Arisa and Yuuji.

Arisa + Yuuji's Rooms - Relatively moderate rooms, Yuuji has to go through Arisa’s room to access the bathroom but they don't mind.

Play Room + Study Room - More places for the kids to chill, though adults are in there sometimes too.

2nd Kitchen/Dining Room - Because sometimes the main kitchen is occupied and it's easier to go up a floor? Arisa also likes experimenting with baking here.

Corner Chill Area - 'Nuff said, why you rich people need so much space, gods.

Big Guest Rooms - Some nicer bigger guest rooms, including a fancy one with access to a jacuzzi bath. For Important Guests like Yakov and Lilia.

Window Glass Hall - Big hall with all glass walls that goes over the back yard. A refreshing place to practice dancing, but if anyone wants to do anything there they generally have to shoo off the occupying mass of sunbathing cats.

R - Rooftop

Rooftop Ice Rink - Because of course they freakin' have one. Generally only iced during the winter, and they can skate right up to the edge where they can look down on the back yard and also Hasetsu and probably the ocean. In the summer is a nice flat field for other things.

Track - "Go run some laps on the track," Victor can command and they don't even need to leave the house...

Living Area - Another nice place to chill.

Dining Area - How much do these people eat...

Misc Room - Why do rich people have so much space.

B1 - Basement 1

Aka, Exercise Floor

Ice Rink - The indoor one, available all year round because of course they have one. Not nearly as big as a full size rink, but large enough for some decent solo practice, is great for when weather sucks and they don't want to go out to the Ice Castle. Yuuri especially loves going to it at bizarre times of night when he can't sleep and wants to meditate on the ice.

Weights/Mat Room - 'Nuff said, gym at home keep those muscles ripped yo.

Cardio Room - All them runnin' machines. Also has access to a multi-stall bathroom.

Dance Studio - Pretty darn big, honestly bigger and nicer than Minako's ballet studio. So Minako teaches the kids here. Walls can change between mirror mode or multiple solid color modes, and door seams are near invisible. Also has drop down poles.

Sound Proof Practice Rooms - For all your deafening screaming and instrument shrieking needs...

Communal Bath - Because apparently being jogging distance to an actual free onsen wasn't enough. Big ass bathing area, sure most of the bathrooms come with baths but why bother when you have this masterpiece in the basement. Has a changing room and multi-stall bathroom for after various exercise, opens into a cleansing/shower area, and then nice big private communal bath. The main bath area has a section of the ceiling that can roll back so they can bathe beneath the open sky/let the snow fall on them which is honestly the best type of onsen experience. Even has a small waterfall that Victor can sit under in comfort however long he wants. On the other side, there's a small area with even hotter water and a sauna, along with a pretty lil rock garden.

*Note, while some people wear shoes on this floor because of the various exercise rooms, they all have pairs of shoes that they only use here. In other words, it's relatively clean, no outside dirt, and people generally also feel comfortable padding around barefoot or with slippers only.

Heat Room/Emergency Room - Where Yuuri goes when his heats are strong and he wants more privacy than the 2nd floor rooms. Is separate from the rest of the house and has multiple pheromone blocking doors that keeps his scent mostly inside. Has a big bed, a fridge, and a bathroom for his mates to care for him. They clean up really well after each heat, and because of how isolated the room is, how well equipped it is with sustenance and a bathroom, and how sturdy the walls are, it can double as an "emergency room" in case of threat. Built so it can survive a bombing, and the hall door can close seamless. Helps that only family members know this room even exists, as heat rooms aren't usually openly talked about ^ ^;

EDIT, added: Washing/Drying Machines Room - BECAUSE IT WAS DRIVING ME INSANE that I forgot to add one in the first time round because yes it's a small detail but NECESSARY. It's a big room that has a ton of machines so everyone can do their loads separately, with plenty of counter space for folding and racks for things that can be air dried indoors. It's Japan though so they like to dry their things outside when it's nice out. Located conveniently right next to the elevator.

B2 (P) - Parking/Garage

Ramp - Leads down from the ground floor, is very wide and can comfortably fit 2 large cars side by side.

Parking Lot - Can hold all the family cars (Victor's hot pink convertible, Yurio's custom tiger-print Jaguar convertible, Phichit's cutesy hamster-themed Volkswagen, Minami's painfully plain but honestly most useful family van, Yuuri's also very normal energy efficient car, and a handful of motorcycles courtesy of Otabek and Yurio's growing collection) plus that of guests.

Basement Recreation Room - Called that, but honestly mostly a garage/tinkering area. Generally considered to be Otabek's domain when he's around, he likes bringing in bikes and sometimes cars through the big ass doors they can drive through so he can fiddle with them. Nice couch area for people to watch.

Boiler Room - Bc every bigass house needs a bigass one right? *squints* IDK ARCHITECTURE MAN, just say it works 'kay...

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Aaaaand that’s it folks! Thanks for reading ^ ^ I may or may not draw how it looks externally bc I freakin’ HATE drawing buildings but eh, this should be a decent enough reference for now imagining where they live ^ ^

[alicenpai]

Hello ^^ Ur art is amazing! I was wondering if u can give me some tips on establishing an online presence? Things like networking and getting my art to be known

Ah hello!! thank you so much ;o; I’m not sure if I’m really qualified to answer this, IT TOOK ME REALLY LONG. AND TBH I DON’T EVEN THINK I FOLLOW MY OWN ADVICE, but *mario voice* HERE WE GOOOOOO –

Just a disclaimer before we start: some (all?) of these tips are specific to my personal experiences, and they may or may not work for you. I have been posting art online for a little over 10 years, and my experiences may not be the same as yours/other artists (I grew pretty slowly!!). Please keep that in mind. I think I kept this tutorial pretty fair, however. If they did help you I would honestly love to hear your story! ^^

1. First off, consider: what are you passionate about? What do you want others to see when they stumble on your page? 

For me I love games, so I’ll try to draw a lot of that (despite being slow at drawing), and I’d like to focus more on my OCs in the near future. I’m not saying you should limit yourself to labels, but, know where your passions lie! If you like cartoons, draw a lot of cartoons! If you like bgs, draw bgs! You like originals? Go wild! My message is that everyone has a thing or two that they really like! Show what you’re passionate about! There is always a community for your interests.

About fandoms: just remember that if you switch fandoms due to changing interests, lack of time etc. - some people may unfollow or express negative feelings, that’s normal. For me, when I completely stopped posting shounen anime content, my engagement went -WET FART WHOOPIE CUSHION SOUND- down. But hell you can’t please everyone! so just do whatever makes you happy (as long as it’s not harmful to others obviously)

—

2. HAVE A CONSISTENT SCHEDULE. REMEMBER THAT YOUR HEALTH ALWAYS COMES FIRST. 

“Algorithms” (I dislike that word sometimes, it gets thrown around more often than the first slice of bread, you know?) will never cater to creators, so don’t beat yourself up if you can’t make 9000 shitty instagram reels a week just because the CEO says so. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO POST 1 DRAWING EVERY WEEK.* And remember that we are in a global pandemic (AT THE TIME OF WRITING) so it’s okay to take breaks, long breaks are cool too.

 Being consistent means maintaining a schedule - uploading every other day, 1x a week, 1-3x a month, etc. - however many times as you want. It doesn’t necessarily mean be “active”, but I think people appreciate knowing how often they can expect work from you! Because they love to see your content and they’re excited for it!

For me personally - I find that uploading 1 piece of artwork per month is usually a pretty good schedule (for a full time post-secondary student/working adult). And I know that may be shocking HAHA. but time really does fly and 1 month can go by in the blink of an eye! Many artists I know abide by that, and so do I - I don’t find that my audience dips too much, and if 5-10 people leave, it doesn’t really matter. In high school with a lighter workload, I might’ve posted 1 drawing a week (or like 3-4x a month) but as my workload grew, I had less time for personal artwork, so 1x a month is already quite good IMO! If you think 1x a month isn’t enough to grow an audience - in the meantime you can join communities and hang out with other artists, or just chat with a close group of artist friends ^^ (see #4)

* You don’t have to post 1 drawing every week, but I know other artists recommend posting text posts in between art so that people know you’re still online! Shitposts are cool (just don’t like.. spam so much that twitter bans you?)! You can talk about that new game you played during your downtime! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want. Some people don’t really like to type at all. Some artists prefer to just post, and that’s okay too.

In a previous version of this post, I said being “active” is important. Trying to adhere to other people’s advice destroyed my sense of self-esteem and productivity. Bad 2017 Alice! Bad! I’ve always struggled a lot with “being active”, because I draw slow, I often felt like I had to “catch up” to my peers, and that’s a toxic attitude to have for myself. I’d occasionally crank out shitty doodles that no one really reacted to, so it made me feel worse. I burn out, I delete posts, I produce nothing. Feel awful about myself as both a person and artist. A vicious cycle. 

In regards to being concerned over people unfollowing: my honest opinion is that people follow so many creators nowadays, that they can always look at another creator in the meantime while you’re busy (even if you’re someone’s favourite creator… most people are decent human beings and understand you need time off). It’s normal to get unfollows when you’re not posting every other day, or if you switch fandoms. Heck even for me I’ve lost like more than 100 followers in an inactive period. It’s normal. Your productivity and follower count have nothing to do with your worth as an artist.

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3. Join communities and be nice to others! Twitter is best for networking because of the nature of the platform (i.e.: more conversational), but obviously don’t be a pushy salesman or constantly follow and unfollow to get someone’s attention and stuff like that - use your judgement. Join art discord groups, even a LOT of fandom discord servers have an art channel too! (join one of your favourite anime or etc, a lot of them have the links posted publicly on reddit), join dA groups, drawing/theme challenges (e.g. you wanna try traditional art? get inking! your favourite ship is doing a themed week? sink with them! people love ships!) Look out for redraw memes, 60/69 min challenges, current topics, etc etc.

I think nowadays it’s easier to join communities as a young artist than when I first started posting art online ^^; (LOL I just had dA) You guys should take advantage of that!

TRY OUT NEW DRAWING SITES! Artfol, Pillowfort (NSFW?), and Sheezyart are some new sites that I’ve seen floating around. Getting involved helps attract eyes to your work. Art platforms may not get you as much attention as tumblr, twitter, or instagram, since they will likely be used by more artists and less non-artists, but art sites cannot grow ant thrive unless people sign up right? I’ve tested Artfol (briefly...) and I think it’s definitely worth trying out!

This is a given, but always tag your work according to the platform. Know what tags work depending on the platform (e.g. 4378548754875 tags on 1 tweet tend to be abused by spam bots, so the more tags on twit the more suspicious the post looks IMO). Very different culture depending on the platform. On instagram and tumblr go crazy. Twitter is good with just 1 with the series, e.g. “#persona5″, or you can just mention it in the post caption, e.g. “Haru is my favourite character! (persona 5)”, because content is still searchable that way as well.

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4. Be patient - don’t worry if you don’t get noticed overnight, or in a couple months… or years even. Don’t panic. Sometimes your work is just not ready for a larger audience. EVERYONE’S EXPERIENCE IS DIFFERENT, no one’s experiences should be discounted - look at each artist’s experience/art growth individually. And this isn’t meant to be discouraging or insulting, sometimes it really is just luck that will get you noticed. 

For me personally, I’ve been posting art online since late middle school. I think it took me about SIX whole years before my art started to go somewhere (conventions helped me too), but even then it took me another TWO years AFTER to break my first 1000 followers (at least on twitter, tumblr I kept no records of as far as I know). So yes, it took me almost EIGHT years online to go somewhere. But I did start posting art when I was quite young, and I would NOT even say that my art was good until the last few years. In fact, let’s roast my old art now:

My friends gifted me a tablet for my birthday and I took to that shit like how kids inhale sugar. I’m really grateful for them. As a teen I was frustrated as to why my work wasn’t getting eyes, I considered myself “pretty good” because of the insane improvement I made in just 2 years’ time. But I think this work just wasn’t technically very strong, or appealing to others yet.

Some people are more lucky than others, but honestly don’t worry if you struggle with your online presence. A lot of other artists are in the same boat, even if they don’t post about it publicly! Even I struggle to find the right time & content to post. Sometimes you can just blame the “alg*r*thm” (derogatory). And remember, large follow counts don’t mean the artist is rich……

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5. Closing thoughts: don’t forget to have fun! (No this is not a threat). Your personal art is all about self exploration and fun (art for work is different). You should draw what you like, but it’s... not... a horrible thing to try and draw popular stuff either. I draw fanart for series that I like, because it makes me happy, but it’s also awesome to bring a smile to others’ faces too, right? I think it’s important to maintain a balance and not go overboard/sell out, you know? Don’t forget to explore your boundaries as well! Hope you can find this useful! And if any of these tips helped I’d love to hear it!

[styleemag]

1000 years by your art

Viola aka @pitypagn aka @faheej is a 16 year old SHINee lover, currently living and studying in Budapest. Being a prolific and extremely talented young artist, she has something  yet to draw and say about her ultimate K-pop favourite - 5HINee.

Tell us, please, about SHINee Fanzine project. How did the idea emerge? Who are the participants? How is the process organized? ^▽^

The fanzine started with a tweet by my friend Gib (Twitter @cat__boy ). He wanted to participate in a SHINee themed zine but there wasn’t any around, so he thought of creating one. (By the way, it would be really nice if more zines and artist collabs were organised in the fandom! We haven’t seen many collaboration zines, mostly individual artists’ artbook and older theme collabs by korean shawols that hasnt happened in a while.) I messaged Gib that i would support the idea and so did his friend Flo (Twitter @omjkt_), and we became an admin team of three. For our theme, we went with something I had in my mind since April; a project that celebrates SHINee’s 10th anniversary by making a collection of fanarts themed around their songs. The name ‘10 years by your side’ is also referring to their song '1000年、ずっとそばにいて・・・’ (1000 Years Always By Your Side). 

Gib and Flo organised the technical aspects like choosing a printing shop, looking up printing requirements, shipping options, setting up a Tumblr page with all the necessary information, asking a friend to translate to korean and making the actual application form. It’s a big work and involves a lot of discussion, so I’m glad we could work it out; three is a good number for organising a zine, especially for first-timers like us as we can discuss and ask each other things effectively, split up work, point out things that the others forgot and such.

About the participants; we decided to invite some artists and open applications as well. We came up with a list of about 20 people — mostly SHINee fanartists known in the fandom — who we would like to work with and simply invited them through Twitter. It was a really rewarding part of the organisation process as it got me to talk to some of my mutuals i really look up to but we haven’t talked because of language barriers; someone whose art I really adore actually told me I made their day with the invitation and I found out we’re birthday twins with another artist! Also, good language exercise, hehe. While inviting artists, we also promoted our application page, where we received over 120 replies (which is incredible) and ended up choosing 15 artists from them, making our number 36 with admins.

To distribute the songs, we made a document of the list of songs we wanted to include in the zine (so they make a coherent timeline of SHINee’s music and visual concepts through the years) and sent it to artists so they can sign up to the song(s) they would like to draw, or add others that they had in mind. Currently, everyone is working on their pieces and us admins are in the making of the design of the printed zine. We also have a chat with all artists to get to know each other and share work in progress pictures.

For what’s still to be done; after all the designs and artworks are edited into one, we will start printing and selling towards the end of the year. Until then, we will update our social media (@shineefanzine on Twitter and Tumblr) on how things are going and possibly previews of the artworks!

It seems like you are doodling all the time, cause you often publish works done in notebooks, on working sheets of paper. It creates a unique atmosphere of understatement, so what does it say about you, in your opinion? 6v6

Haha that’s actually not correct! It’s true though that my sketchbook is a checked spiral notebook (that’s probably 10+ years old), so I understand why it seems so! I kind of wish I could draw more in school but it’s simply not the best place for me as I’m occupied with other things, and I like to make more focused drawings lately. Which is also why I haven’t really used that sketchbook (and updated my Instagram where I put traditional sketches) in the latest months. I might get back to it again, as I need to make some studies and I can’t continue my summer break drawing work ethic with finished digital pieces almost every day.

Understatement is a really nice way to put it though, I’m glad it seems so! There are multiple reasons for my sketchbook, one is that I feel too pressured having to draw something nice if it’s on some expensive special paper. Also, it’s easier for me to sense depth, proportions and sizes (aka how close i am to the paper) if it has patterns on it, although when the print ink is too strong, it’s not very good for drawing. The notebook I have has a good paper and lightly printed so it’s nice to draw on. This is the technical part, and what I think this says about me…simplicity? Since I started doing digital, traditional art became secondary for me and that’s great in the quality that it provides me more freedom in it, in some way. That it doesn’t matter if I draw something badly in traditional as it’s not as important to me. This is more of an image I would like if people saw when they looked at my Instagram, that it’s carefree, not looking for perfectionism but has its own beauty in sketchiness and stationary tools. Also that the first and most important thing you need for art is, well, doing art, not professional art supplies.

Be it a pencil sketch, or a digital masterpiece, your artworks are professionally done. Do you have plans to follow an artist’s career?  ㅍ_ㅍ

Thank you so much!! I do! Since a little less than a year ago, I decided I don’t want to study anything I’m being taught (mistake of going to a school known for its math) and it would be much nicer to occupy and surround myself with art and artsy people. I am planning to start taking art courses later this year or next year, learn to make a portfolio and look up some art colleges. At this point, I would be the happiest to be an illustrator but animating sounds good too, I will have to see yet where I will go!

What role does fashion play in your life? Do you use it as a tool, an artist’s medium? `ㅂ´

I’m probably not fashionable enough to say that, haha. Or rather I’m not satisfied with my own fashion because I don’t have the wardrobe I would like to have, my own personal issues getting in my way. It interests me though, and I do have the nagging feeling to do better, the room to improve, the inspiration. I like simplicity, gray and dull colors, oversized clothes, simple and clean designs that are great in their quietness. I would like to be like that.

Fashion in my drawings is a bit of a different topic I know, but I would like to mention since even though I’m usually preoccupied with people in my drawings, it can be really meditative and nice sometimes to sit down and compose an outfit and fiddle with details. Also high fashion, it can be quite an inspiration for me.

What thing, or maybe person, impressed you most of all recently? ㅎㅅㅎ

Eastern Europe. It has an exciting aesthetic that isn’t celebrated enough, at least from what I could see. I really love the folk wear, and it feels like home. I would like to make illustrations based around it as well as my own country’s historical fashion, it’s beautiful. The other side is the ~dark~ post socialist aesthetic, big blocks of panel houses made of concrete that don’t age well. It has a grim and heavy feeling but it’s also something uniquely here. I don’t know, maybe only the grim feeling might appear in my art style, maybe I will abandon it for lighter aesthetics but it’s interesting nevertheless.

We are thankful to Viola ( @faheej​ ) for her fabulous creations and the talk. Design by Anna Maria ( @sh5untik​ ).

[innocentfighter]

pingo1387

replied to your

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okay, 2211 words into Nano, which is good,...

yyes

Okay, so (I don’t actually have a functional plot because I’m not a functional writer but I digress). The jist is that my main characters, twin brothers, Axel and Milo are what are dubbed in my universe Traders (ie scoundrals, space pirates, unlawful property movers, etc). They have had a shit life, and enjoy the roguish life style along with their long time best friend and pilot Cîelo. The story begins when they’re looking for a job to replenish their funds and the tavern they’re in is invaded by the UP soldiers (UP = Union of Protectorate Planets). Naturally fighting occurs and they make a mad dash to get away. Meanwhile they’re followed by a man that goes by the name Sax, who claims that he has a job for them. 

The job is that they need to fence a piece of technology for him. All Sax wants is safe passage to a uncontrolled sector.  Its simple enough, until it isn’t. Basically everyone wants this tech from them, and now they have to figure out what it is and make the right choice with it before some one gets killed.

That’s what I have so far. Its a WIP.

Characters? Characters. Love these kids. Under cut for lack of dashboard clutter!

Milo -> He’s technically the younger brother. He has ash blonde hair, which contrasts with his dark tan skin and hazel eyes. His most notable features are the dimples he has when he smiles and the scar he has through his eyebrow. Located by his jaw is a piece of tech that functions  as a breathing tool as well as a translator.

Personality wise, he’s a flirt and is unashamed of his like of sex. More times than not, his flirting has gotten him and is friends in trouble. He’s a people person and just loves to talk to anyone, although he can be arrogant he’s usually the first to lend a helping hand. Milo’s personality can be dominate which can brush people the wrong way and lead into them getting into fights.

Some other notable information is that Milo is an incredibly good shot, he first learned to shoot when he was twelve. He only learned how to use a blaster because his brother’s life was in danger and he had to do something to save him. Some of his quirks include tapping on his thigh five times, pausing for three beats, and then resuming the tapping. This occurs whenever he’s feeling high emotions be them negative or positive.

Backstory moment: He was the brother that suggested that they steal an UP ship to get off of their homeworld. Originally, Milo had wanted to steal it and sell it for scrap and just make their life comfortable, but after what happened on their home planet, Milo wanted nothing more than to get away from Prerth. Of course, their joyride didn’t get them very far, and they got arrested for the first time when they were 14, but before they could be transferred to a prison colony (or worse) they met Elo (Cîelo) , who helped them escape and they became fast friend.

Axel -> The older of the two. His hair is darker than his brothers and instead of hazel eyes he has russet colored ones. While his brother is roguishly pretty, Axel’s features are more delicate making him simply pretty, however he has an X shape scar that runs from his nose to the edge of his jaw with another crossing from below his eye to edge of his mouth. Depending on who you ask it can detract or add to his looks. He has the same dimples has his brother.

Personality wise, he’s considered to be the more serious of the two. However he has an untrusting nature and a short temper. Despite that he’s open-minded and polite enough in a social setting. While it’s not an aspect of his personality, most people assume that he’s also the quieter of the pair (I’ll get back to that in the moment). Also he’s the more tactically minded and reckless in battle.

Notable information, Axel is actually deaf and non-vocal due to an incident in his childhood. While he had been born with the ability to hear and speak, the loss of it was something that he handled as well as to be expected. He never let his deafness stop him from becoming a Trader. As he is non-vocal, he and his brother had developed their own form of communication based on gestures (technical wise I’m using signs from ASL, in addition to creating my own and my own grammar rules). 

Backstory moment: The twin’s father was a piece of shit, and in order to pay off gambling debts, he gave his oldest son away to one of the people that he owed money to. Axel had been mouthy to him (it was some local rich guy), and as a result of that the Rich Guy had Axel undergo a non-legal and unsafe surgery that essentially froze his vocal cords. The process, if done right has a high chance of being reversed, but of course the doctor had been shady and hadn’t done it right. Under the same man he suffered from an infection (something akin to meningitis) that caused him to lose his hearing.

(Its still a WIP so its all subject to change).

Cîelo -> Pale nearly translucent skin covers her entire body. Her hair is hollow feathers She would be considered heavy by typical human standards, however for her people she is at the proper weight. She has dark rimmed eyes and her irises are almost as black. Her bones are thicker than Terran's and she runs at a higher temperature than they do. She generally dresses as if she was going to go out into the land of her home, and is dress in furs and feathers and leathers. She wears carved bone ear wraps in her hair. e.g She’s built to survive in the cold and snow.

Personality wise, she’s confident but humble. Unlike her male companions she isn’t one to get fired up easy, she’s very level-headed and analytical which can cause her to over think things and hesitate. Elo is also very independent and likes to set off on her own before asking for help. Also as it is with her species, her language isn’t very specific, so occasionally she’ll be vague but not on purpose. Living with regular terrans (for lack of better term atm) and picking up common has caused her to lose that habit for the most part.  

Notable information, she’s the first of her species to leave her home world of Skade. Not much is know about her species and she doesn’t disclose much. However she left because its what she felt that her Goddess wanted her to do, since she had been always interested in what is beyond her planet and what the night holds (which can be taboo in her culture). Also because her species is isolated others tend to think that they’re less advanced when it isn’t the case at all. Also using one’s full name is a sign of endearment, usually in the romantic sense but can also be a sign of deep love and it isn’t to be used lightly or often. Its why she’ll always call Milo and Axel M or Axe

Fun fact: Her language is a series of clicks

Backstory moment: Skade rarely let outsiders onto her planet, however a contingent of UPs crash landed and her and her family took them in to nurse them back to health. It caused a political rift among the Skades, which didn’t concern Elo that much. She had been participating in the world-wide ship race. It was the UPs that gave her the idea that she could leave the planet, but it took years after that event for her Goddess to giver her guidance on the path she should take.

Sax -> He’s a dark-skinned male, whose muscular and tall. His eyes are an amber-brown color and he keeps his hair cropped close. He had double implants, one on his jaw that’s similar to the one that Milo has and then another one that curves around his ear that’s used for more tech based encryption or decryption. He has gold tattoos around his wrist and back.

Personality wise, Sax is by far the most serious of the group, which doesn’t mean that he’s the least fun. He makes dry jokes most of the time, and then the rest of the time he’s cracking jokes, but he knows when he needs to be serious which can make him come off as haughty. Sax is also very gentle and prefers to talk his way out of a situation that go to his gun, which sets him apart from the rest of the group. He is also the one who wears his heart on his sleeve and shows his emotions freely.

Notable Information, Sax loves to indulge in the arts. He personally is known to write poetry, and is also continually impressed with the drawings that Axel does. In his culture the ability to make art or the dedication to make art well was considered to be a gift from the gods. Being a warrior was a given, and you were respected for being good, but the artist were loved. Which is why the celebrate their accomplishments through their skin via tattoo. (I have a whole thing on both Sax and Elo’s cultures).

Backstory moment, Sax’s first tattoo was a singular curved line around his wrist. He earned it from being the strongest child in his class as he could lob a flour sack further than anyone else. He designed it so that eventually it would be part of the tree that he would design on his back as he earned more and more accomplishments. He got his back tattoo by his poetry being able to impress a rival village’s leader with his poetry about non-violence.