#this is EVEN SHORTER than my last. SORRY but i am practicing 1) editing. generally. and new footage. and 2) 'actually finishing something'

[jurisffiction]

Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat Just show me where your dick's at

daniel molloy i believe in you keep trying!! (blah blah blah by kesha)

[ramen-rambles]

Quid Pro Quo

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Warnings: 18+, mutual masturbation, suggestive texts 

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: From being a total stranger you met on a dead Discord server, to literally becoming one of your best friends — Kirishima was one of the most amazing things to ever happen in your life. But what happens when you accidentally screenshot his nudes?!

A/N: My first BNHarem server collab! I was really close to naming this fic Penis Pals, if I’m being honest LOL It’s a lot shorter than I wanted but I hope I did my baby justice. Thank you to my fellow Bakugou Fanclub members for hyping me up and helping me edit this piece. I literally couldn’t have done it without you guys, ILYSM! Read all the other amazing fics in this collab, here.

Taglist: @lady-bakuhoe @bratwritings @redbeanteax

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

Ever since you were in high school, you had always looked up to Crimson Riot — a pro hero who’s strong, manly, and fearless. I mean, who wouldn’t like him? Now that you were in college, there have been many other heroes worthy of being called the best, but Crimson Riot was still going to be Number 1 in your eyes. So, to pay homage to your all time favorite hero, you decided to join a Crimson Riot Discord server. 

You had started looking for any server invites through all platforms of social media. Google, Twitter, Tumblr, but nothing came up. You had started to lose hope, until you stumbled upon a very old server link on an equally old Reddit thread. You looked at the date it was posted and it seemed to have been made all the way back when you were in high school. You clicked on the link hesitantly, definitely not expecting it to work. However, much to your surprise, the link brought you straight to the server! 

“Finally! Something that actually fucking worked!” You thought to yourself, after hours of scrolling though numerous pages of the internet. 

You were a bit hesitant at first, not really knowing what to expect. Were people going to think you were weird for being such a nerd? What if people thought you were annoying? Or worse, what if no one liked you? 

But that didn’t seem to be much of a problem… Considering that the server was rather dead. 

You clicked through the channels — #general, #merch, #photos, #announcements; the last time anyone really said anything was nearly six months ago. “God dammit.” You should have known. All you wanted was a place to fangirl over Crimson Riot, was that too much to ask for?! You got all your hopes up, just for it to all come crashing down. Feeling a bit dejected, it seemed like you had no choice but to leave the server. Not like there was much of a point in staying anyways. 

But then you saw a notification pop up on your screen.

RED RIOT [Today at 7:56 PM] 

@Y/N Hey! How are you doing? I’m the admin for this Crimson Riot Discord. The name’s Kirishima. It’s nice to see a fresh face here :^) 

Y/N [Today at 7:56 PM] 

Oh hi! I’m doing good! I found your discord link on a really old Reddit thread so forgive me for asking but… Is this server still active? I was scrolling through the channels and everything seemed kind of dead tbh LOL

RED RIOT [Today at 7:57 PM]

Well, if I’m being honest, it’s fucking dead LMAO 

Y/N [Today at 7:57 PM]

F

RED RIOT [Today at 7:58 PM]

It used to be pretty active before but people just kind of... stopped. I made this server back when I was in high school because I just LOVED Crimson Riot so much, ya know? He was the one person I really looked up to. Anyways, how did you even find this link? You must have looked real hard LOL

Y/N [Today at 7:58 PM]

HAHA I did, actually! Took me for-fucking-ever to find a server link that actually worked :( I’ve looked up to him since I was a kid too and so I really just wanted a place to express my gratitude for the role he played in my life. Sorry LOL I’m getting cheesy 

RED RIOT [Today at 7:59 PM]

Well Y/N, I’m glad you found this server! You sound like a really great person and I’d love nothing more than to talk to you about our shared love for Crimson Riot, but this server is whack as fuck. Are you down to move to DMs instead?

Y/N [Today at 8:01 PM]

Fuck it. Why not? 

You and Kirishima had been talking for a while now. Ever since you came across his Crimson Riot server, you two would talk almost every single day. You learned that he actually lived near you too. Call it fate. Exchanging phone numbers, following each other on social media, starting Snapchat streaks, meeting up with each other — the chemistry between you two made it seem like you’ve known each other your entire lives. The both of you had practically become best friends. 

To you, maybe it felt a little bit more than just friends. 

Currently, you were mindlessly scrolling through your Twitter feed when you saw that you had received a Snapchat notification, from, you guessed it. Kirishima. You were expecting it to just be a bland streak of his room or something but you saw something that made your fucking jaw drop.

A picture of Kirishima in a tight fitting tank top and a very noticeable bulge that was covered by a pair of dark grey sweatpants. 

You felt your cheeks heat up, a red blush painting across your entire face. In a state of panic, you fumbled the phone in your hands and in the process you had heard a very audible click. You fucking screenshotted his snap.

Fuck. 

You quickly went into your messages and texted him to try and explain yourself. 

[Y/N]

WAIT SHIT. KIRISHIMA. I DIDN’T MEAN TO SCREENSHOT THAT. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. I SWEAR 

Replying almost immediately, you anxiously waited for what Kirishima had to say about your little mishap. You were seriously hoping that he was just going to let it go and you could both just act like nothing happened.

[Kirishima] 

Wow, I didn’t think you’d be the type to screenshot people’s snaps like that, Y/N :( 

[Y/N]

YOU DIPSHIT. I SAID IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. AND WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME SHIT LIKE THAT HUH?!

[Kirishima]

You telling me you didn’t like what you saw? 

[Y/N]

Okay, fine, you looked good, SUE ME. Is that what you wanted to hear?

[Kirishima] 

It’s only fair you send me one back, don’t you think?

You stared at your phone. What the actual fuck. Was Kirishima asking you to send him a fucking nude? You knew it shouldn’t have, but the thought of Kirishima wanting to see your body turned you on. A small shiver running down your spine at the possibility that he liked you in return. 

[Y/N]

Excuse me, sir. I am NOT sending you a nude. 

[Kirishima]

I didn’t ask for a nude, all I said was that you return the favor. Quid pro quo, ya know? 

[Y/N]

Using big words like ‘quid pro quo’, smh. Since when did you become such a politician? 

[Kirishima]

But, if you want to send a nude, who am I to say no? ;)

[Y/N]

Fucking fine. If I show you one, will you shut up?

[Kirishima]

Depends.

[Y/N]

On what, exactly?

[Kirishima] 

On how good it is

Your eyes narrowed at his response. What does he even mean by that, ‘how good it is’? He should be grateful that you even considered sending him one! Based on your replies, it seemed like you were pissed, but in reality, your heart beat faster with every passing minute. You were never the type of girl to send nudes to anyone, but for Kirishima, you were willing to make a small exception. 

You got up from your bed and rummaged through your closet, looking for something that was a bit more provocative. You picked out a red lace bodysuit that hugged your curves and cupped your perky breasts. Sitting in front of your mirror, you touched up your makeup and fixed your hair, checking yourself out one last time before you started taking pictures. You opened up Snapchat and tried multiple poses, making sure the camera captured your sultriness and how good your tits looked. To mock his teasing from earlier you captioned the photo, “Quid pro quo, my ass.” before hitting the ‘send’ button. 

[Y/N] 

Was that good enough for you? 

You heard no response from him for a good five minutes. You started worrying. “Shit. Was that too much? Did I push it too far?” You chewed on the inside of your lip, anxiously waiting for any sort of reaction. 

And then, your screen lit up again. Another Snapchat notification from Kirishima. But this time, it was way more revealing. He had sent you a picture of him palming his erection, and all it said was, “You’re not even here, and look what you did to me :(“ 

Feeling cocky and with a sudden burst of confidence, you cheekily replied, “Why don’t you come here then?” 

In all honesty, Kirishima didn’t live that far from you. You two were only 15 minutes away from each other, meaning that he frequented your apartment whenever he felt like it. He came over a million times in the past, but this time was different. Very different, in fact. Anticipation was building at the pit of your stomach, but so was a familiar heat that began pooling in the middle of your underwear. 

You tried denying your feelings for Kirishima but you couldn’t help it! Everything about him was perfect. His personality, his humor, his voice, his face, his body… You could go on and on about all the things you loved about Kirishima. 

You would have been lying to yourself if you said that you’ve never thought about him with your hands in between your thighs. Thinking about his massive cock fucking your tight pussy, his fingers rubbing your clit in all the right places, or the way his tongue would feel sucking on your hardened nipples. 

You’d always wonder if he ever felt the same way but he didn’t really seem like he was. 

That was, until tonight. 

You stared at the clock on your wall and saw that 10 minutes had passed, a loud knock on your door making you wake up from the dream like trance you seemed to be trapped in. You quickly turned the doorknob, letting Kirishima inside of your apartment. 

Without saying a word, he pushed your back against the wall and began to roughly grab the side of your face. He captured your lips with his, meeting his kiss with the same aggressiveness, making your head spin at how good it felt to finally get a taste of him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for us to do this?” He panted, moving down to place sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, leaving sharp bite marks and dark bruises littered all over your pretty skin.  

“Haaaa, that should be my line” you moaned, “You know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You whispered teasingly, biting the soft flesh of his earlobes. “How many times I wished it was your fingers inside of me instead?” You trailed your fingers down to his, intertwining them with one another before you dragged him into your bedroom. 

You pushed him down onto the mattress, gently getting on top of him and straddling his waist. Grabbing his hands, you placed them on top of your tits, giving them a rough squeeze before you began grinding your wet heat against his clothed cock. 

”Fuck, Y/N, are you sure?” He groaned, “As much as I want this, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with —“ 

“Eiji, shut up. If I didn’t want this, would I be this wet for you?” You slipped your panties off to the side, two of your fingers dipping into your cunt, showing off the slick that stringed in between your digits. “Here, see for yourself.” You brought your coated fingers up to his mouth, making him suck it until not a drop was left. 

“Shit, you taste so fucking good,” He smirked, “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself, princess?” 

You slowly made your way off of him, leaning back to position your body against the plush sheets. Slowly spreading your legs, you made sure he got a good view, your pussy practically dripping from how aroused you had become. You snaked your hands down back against your thighs, fingers finding its way onto your throbbing clit. Kirishima was sitting in front of you, all of his clothes still on.

That didn’t seem very fair, now did it? 

“Stroke your cock for me, Eijirou. Quid pro quo, right?” You said wickedly. You stood up quickly to remove the rest of your lingerie, Eijirou’s eyes glued to your body, watching your every move as you moved your hands back to their previous position. 

Kirishima let out a small laugh before he finally stripped himself of his clothing, pulling down his boxers to reveal his impressive length that was already oozing precum. “Is this what you wanted to see?” You nodded desperately. 

“You wanted to see me jerk off while I watch you touch that pretty pussy of yours?” Kirishima began moving his hand against his girth, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip onto the head. Lubricating his cock with a mix of precum and spit, he slowly started moving up and down his length. Matching your rhythm, as he watched intensely at the fingers that were still stuffed inside of your cunt. 

Soft moans started escaping your plush lips, the collective sound of small whines, and frantic gasps beginning to fill the room. “Fuck, Eiji. You look so hot stroking your cock like that. Do you imagine that it was my pussy, instead?” You say, panting intensely. 

“Fuuuuck. I’m gonna pound your tight little cunt so hard that you’re not going to be able to walk for days.” He sped up his pace, you quickly following suit. Your fingers pumping vigorously, you continued to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. 

You were getting closer and closer to the orgasm you craved so much, and the look that Kirishima had on his face indicated that he was too. Your cunt clenched tightly around your digits while Kirishima’s fist held a vice grip on his cock. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, the intensity of your orgasm was surely going to rip through you like a plundering tidal wave.

 “A-ah, Eijirou! I’m so fucking close for you.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt yourself cum all over your fingers, your arousal gushing onto the bed sheets and covering the inside of your thighs. 

Kirishima quickened his strokes, the sight of your pleasure the catalyst for his own release as he continued to jack hammer his cock at an animalistic pace. “Please, baby, cum for me, I wanna see you cum all over yourself.” You whined, watching closely as you patiently waited for him to reach his end. Your filthy words were the last push he needed. 

“F-fuck Y/N! I love you so fucking much” he groaned loudly. A few more pumps, and ropes of his cum started painting his chest white, covering his sweaty body, as the remnants of both your orgasms stained the bed. 

You both looked at each other with half lidded eyes, still trying to come down from your intense highs. Breathing heavily, you looked at him greedily and whispered, “You know, I’ve always wondered how good it would feel to fuck myself on your cock.” 

“Well, I did say that I’d pound your cunt so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for days...” Kirishima cooed as he ran his fingers along your exposed thigh,

“I’d be more than happy to show you, Princess.” 

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

[malmuses]

Hello Mal, how are you doing? I hope things have gotten better for you on the real life side of things. I'm going through some rough times too, so at least the company is good! I wanted to start by saying that your fics have single handedly gotten me through the most turbulent transition period of my life. I'm almost completely finished with your works on AO3 and your storytelling... *many many many chef kisses*. You are easily one of my favorite writers. I love your writing style, ...1/2

...2/2 your characterization, and how well thought out each story is. Each fic is like a decadent treat for my brain. I was curious, as a fellow writer, what your writing process is like. I've tried a few different methods but was wondering what works best for you! I hope the rest of your 2020 is full of peace and love. Also, I apologize in advance for the spam of comments you are about to receive on AO3. I finally have enough spoons for it!

I’m pasting these into one so I can put the answer in one place! (Tumblr is so awkward sometimes.) Sorry to hear you’ve been going through rough times too! There’s a lot of it going around this year, so I think we have plenty of company. In fact, I think the whole world just needs to lower its expectations and standards this year. Woke up? There’s the first gold star of the day. It's only up from here. I’m so glad that you’ve been enjoying my stories and so flattered that you say they’ve helped you so much...*insert feelings gif* I always tell myself when I write something: It’s okay if not everyone likes it. It’s okay if some people hate it. Nothing is for everyone. I just want one person to *love it*. Then I’m totally at peace. Now, if that person is just me? If I’m the only one that loves it? That’s also cool. Each story comes from a different place. My long-winded point, though, was that you basically just validated the existence of my entire catalog of fics so far, so thank you xD Your question about my writing process though - I’m happy to answer. But of course, first, I have to insert the usual disclaimer that as with most creative endeavors, there is no ‘right’ way to do it. I’m sure you know that, but sometimes I think people underestimate the depth of that truth. Each person has their own unique way of doing things. The struggle is sometimes finding the particular way, or combination of ways, that work for you. There’s definitely no harm in sharing what works for me though, in case anyone else can take anything from it. I’m someone who writes multiple things at once. Some people can’t do this or don’t want to, which I totally understand. For me, this is how I (mostly) avoid any kind of writers' block. If I’m stuck somewhere, I switch projects for a day or two. I do usually still have one main project I’m working on, but I usually have at least three others, often at various stages of the writing process. This keeps me in more of a flow state so I keep going with things, and allows me to write every day. It’s a habit. Now, I’m not saying breaks are bad, and everyone should write every day. I just find that for me, breaks should be deliberate. They should be true, chosen breaks, not because I just...drifted into one.

As you can probably tell from all that, I’m very much a planner and outliner. I outline...a lot. I’d be happy to talk more about my particular outlining process on Tumblr someday if anyone wanted. But, basically, I start with a general idea, then break it down into different story beats, so I can see if there’s something missing or too much of one thing. Then I fill in the gaps, then start breaking each overall ‘part’ of the plot into scenes, etc. Chapters come last. In terms of numbers (I get asked this one a lot), it does not matter how long your chapters are. What matters is that the chapter length feels right for the pacing of the fic, in my opinion, and I really think that is something that just comes with practice and knowing your own writing. Shitty advice maybe, but just the truth as I see it. A lot of it comes down to practice and finding what works for you.

Once I have an outline, I generally write linearly. Some people can jump around a lot. That’s a bit of a last resort for me if I’m stuck on something, or alternately if a scene steams into my head fully formed I will write it...with the understanding that I will probably have to change chunks of it when I reach it. It’s just the way it goes.

Now, when I say I outline in detail (there are literal spreadsheets)  that doesn’t mean that I magically only write exactly what’s in the outline and I stick to it. An outline can be a guide, not a rule. Sometimes stories take you places, and generally, I find it's better to listen to what the story wants. If my story starts going somewhere else or introduces something I don’t expect, I often revisit my outline and think, “Okay, how can I work in this new thing so that it follows the plotlines and arcs I already have? Am I adding to what I have or just distracting from it?” Most often those answers are obvious to me, but sometimes it’s good to ask someone else. A friend, a trusted beta. (I could talk a whole lot about betas and how that works for me, too, in addition to outlining).

I pretty much zero draft my fics. By that, I mean that I will start writing, and I won’t go back and do very much editing until the end. I will, each writing session, go back and read what I wrote the day before. Get into the zone. And sure, I’ll fix something if it jumps out at me - but that isn’t the purpose at that point, and most things won’t jump out, because it's too fresh. My brain knows what I meant, so it autocorrects for me. 

Leading into editing, it’s a two-step process for me. Once my zero draft is finished, I go back to the beginning and go through. This is where most of my developmental editing happens. (Another thing that probably needs more detail...different types of editing.) Once I’ve done that (usually during that pass, I’ve added words) I then put the fic aside. For as long as possible. At least a month, if I can swing that. (Bang deadlines sometimes cause issues if it's a fic for a bang, but I try). 

Once that time has passed, I can come back to it with fresh eyes. I’ll see the mistakes much more easily, then. This is where more intensive line edits happen, where SPAG happens, where I insert anything I made note of during my first pass if I needed to foreshadow anything more, that kind of thing. 

For a WIP, I do these edits chapter by chapter as it posts. For a Bang fic, obvious I have to do it all in one go. Due to the way I write, if you see me start posting a fic -- that fic is already finished, or in rarer instances (for work that was more time-sensitive) partway through the second draft or so. Oneshots are a little different (and I’ve had some oneshots that turned into chaptered fics of their own accord) in that they are just shorter and less intensive and often only have one main plot thread, so they’re a lot easier to do. I can get one drafted, edited and posted within a few days usually, depending on length.

How much do I write? Depends on the day. I have a high-stress finance job, two kids, and write a mixture of original fiction and fanfic stuff. So sometimes it's more than others. Bad day? Maybe 1,000 words. Good, average day? 3-6k. High pressure? Well, last year's DCBB I wrote in just under three days. It was 25k at that point. I have no tips for speed beyond learning to type fast, LOL!

Okay. I’ve probably bored you, and anyone else who had to scroll past all this, to tears. This is way too long. But even so, more specific questions, I’m happy to answer.

Good luck! Best advice? Just write. Write. Write. "Write a million words, then throw them away” is a changeable quote attributed to several authors but all it comes down to is...practice. Find your own vice and way of doing it. In a million words time, you will be a different writer than you are now, guaranteed.

Mal <3

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Five

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

Warnings: None (second-hand embarrassment?)

Author's Note:

So this one is the longest one so far. Maybe I could have edited it to be a little shorter, but I struggle to do that kind of thing (also I wanted to get started on the next part) so have this anyway. This one's a little goofy, but just please bear with me. 

I don't know what else to say.

Nnnngggg

-Sugar

✤✤✤✤✤

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

"Hey. Hey, Tamaki, wake up."

Your voice floated into Tamaki's ears, causing him to awaken from his slumber. Light bled into his eyes as he blearily opened them, your face hovering above his. Cool hands laid expectantly on his shoulders, fresh from having shaken him. Tamaki sat up, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was, registering the feeling of air and gravity on his body.

"Come on," you excitedly whispered, stepping back. "I want to show you something."

Tamaki threw his legs over the side of the bed, making sure he had good footing before walking up next to you. He was surprised at how quickly he was learning to walk, each occasion of getting to his feet becoming easier with practice.

You grabbed his hand in yours, making Tamaki's heart jump, and pulled him through the halls and out into the dawn, the sun barely visible on the horizon. The former merman had seen the sunrise before, usually while he waited for you to turn up on your beach, but there was something so incredibly new and different about seeing it here; on land, with you. You stood at his side, your hand clutched in his. Grass poked at the bottoms of his feet, and there was a feeling of overall warmth he simply wasn't used to; his body no longer perpetually encased by the cold sea.

He followed you as you pulled him along, traipsing over a moderately worn path. The familiar sound of crashing waves met his ears as the path began to slope down. Finally, he saw it. The ocean, but this time, from the vantage point of the black-sand beach. You continued to lead him, his toes hitting fine sand. He had never felt dry sand before, and Tamaki was suddenly overcome with the urge to bend down and sink his hands in it. He didn't stop though, letting you take him as far as you dared.

"This is where I found you," you finally said, halting and pointing to a general area on the ground.

Tamaki glanced at where you pointed and then out to sea, his eyes scanning over the familiar rocks that jutted from the violent waves. I found you here too.

"I come out to this beach every morning," you continued. "It's kind of my routine. I like to take little walks over here. There's just something about the sea . . . it relaxes me. Don't you think it's beautiful?"

Tamaki nodded, his eyes dropping to look at your face. There was a soft, lovely expression upon it as you looked out at the water, your gaze following the crest of the waves as white sea foam flew up and out of the nearly black waters. Tamaki suddenly wished your roles could be reversed; maybe take you into the sea, which you so loved, as his mermaid, diving together into the dark depths until the end of time. A part of him wondered what would happen if he put his necklace over your head. Probably nothing, since it was only enchanted to give a merperson human legs, but still.

"I'll admit a little something to you, but you have to promise to keep it secret." Your voice jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Okay," he answered. "You know how good I am at keeping secrets."

He nervously laughed with you at his attempt at a joke, the humor helping to ease a bit of tenseness he wasn't even aware had begun to build up in his shoulders.

"Okay, so, when I come up here," you continued, "sometimes I like to sing into the breeze. You know, just let my voice carry out into the ocean. Crazy right?"

"How is that crazy?" Tamaki asked, his throat bobbing in anticipation. This was what he'd been waiting for, a chance to hear you up close.

You shrugged, your smile a little embarrassed. "I don't know. It's not like there's anyone around to hear."

He had been around to hear, and he'd thought you sounded lovely. "Can I listen to you?"

You blushed, unused to having an established audience for your music. Nevertheless, you began to hum, warming up your vocal cords. Tamaki had heard you sing this particular tune before, and he listened intently as words began to pour from your throat.

Mersong doesn't have lyrics, per se. There was still usually a meaning behind their music, but never anything like Tamaki heard now. You sang of the ocean and the moon, of a foreign yet familiar longing for times long gone.

Your voice was clear, soaring and falling effortlessly within your chest. Tamaki could only listen on in awe as your song began to conclude, a light blush present on your cheeks.

You were so beautiful then. Tamaki couldn't help but notice it. With your signature delicate circlet placed lightly on your head, the sea air lightly tousling your (H/T) hair, your plush lips still parted as you drew out a final, gentle hum . . . . It was almost too much for him.

He suddenly remembered the object he'd tucked into his pocket the night before. Tamaki reached down and pulled it out, keeping his eyes trained on you. Your gaze was currently locked on the ocean, silently watching the waves advance and retreat on the sand. Tamaki's movements however made you turn back to him, about to nervously ask what he'd thought of your spontaneous private concert. Instead, Tamaki was currently slowly placing a sponge on the top of his head, eyes locked on you.

He brought his hands back down, staring as if waiting for your reaction, crimson heavy on his cheeks. You just stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what the heck he was doing.

At your silence, Tamaki finally bit his lip, glancing away. Were you rejecting him? He was probably being too forward. Was this too soon for you? Why weren't you saying anything?

"Tamaki?" you finally questioned.

He reached up, sheepishly taking it off. You wouldn't stop staring at him. What had he done wrong? Another part of the custom suddenly worked its way back into his mind.

As a last resort, Tamaki tossed the sponge at you. The squishy material bounced squarely off your nose, and you jumped back in surprise.

"What the—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Okay, what was that?" You gently touched your nose with the tips of your fingers. Not because it had hurt you, but more to solidify to yourself what just happened.

"I um, I—I'm sorry!" he said again.

"Where did you even—why would you—?" You were so flustered you could scarcely form a coherent sentence.

Tamaki stopped short. Did you not know what it meant? You looked just as confused as he was, if not more.

"Was my singing that bad?" you asked, half-joking, trying to process what was going on.

"N-no! Your song was so beautiful a-and so was your voice! It's just—oh, I've ruined everything—!" Tamaki hid his face in his hands, wishing he could disappear. Maybe he could jump back in the ocean and you would forget he ever existed.

"So that happened," you said, trying to piece together what he might have been trying to do.

"L-look, just . . . forget I did that." Tamaki decided he'd try a different means to ask you out, and possibly later.

"Alright."

Tamaki peeked out from between his fingers. You bent down and picked up the sponge from the ground.

You narrowed your eyes at it, and then looked back up at Tamaki. "Did you get this from the bathroom?"

"Uhh . . . yes."

"Why are you carrying around one of my sponges?"

"I—I want you to like me." Tamaki shifted his fingers so they covered his eyes again.

"So you threw a sponge at me."

"Yes."

You squinted at him, more perplexed than ever. "Is this just one of your 'I'm not going to tell you who I am' things?"

"Uh, yeah."

You sighed, giving the offending object in your fist a few quick squeezes. "Okay, then. I'll take your word for it."

Tamaki peeked out again. "You're not mad?"

You shook your head, looking back down at the sand. "I just wish I could get to know you." You turned on your heel, making your way back to your home. Tamaki stood there for a moment, letting you put some distance between yourselves before following after you. None of this was working as he had expected, and now he had no idea how to fix it.

I have to tell her. That's what she wants.

He sped up, falling into step with you.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," he said.

"It's fine. What were you trying to say?"

Tamaki took his lip between his teeth again. "Your voice is so pretty . . . . I don't know."

You smiled softly. "Thanks, I guess. I don't normally sing in front of people. Don't normally have sponges thrown at me either . . . . Is that . . . normal where you come from?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. I've never heard of it. I guess we do the same with flowers."

"You do?"

"Yeah." You glanced over and noticed Tamaki still looked troubled. "I'm not mad," you assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think I understand."

Fear shot through Tamaki's eyes. "You do?"

"Well, I'm trying. It would help if you could tell me." You nudged him.

Tamaki sighed. "It's a long story."

You pushed your lips to the side, thinking. "Hmm. How about I show you how to make bread? That's a long process. We can talk while we do that. Sound good?"

Tamaki looked up eagerly. He had been intrigued by your talk of bread and anticipated seeing how it was made, especially if you were involved. "Yeah, that's great."

"It's settled then. I'll learn more about you, and you can learn about bread making!"

You led him back to the chateau, taking him swiftly down to the kitchens. Tamaki noticed that Gabriel was nowhere to be seen, which was a relief to him. He could talk freely around you without having to worry about the man overhearing.

You grabbed two fruits from a basket and handed one to Tamaki. It was spherical and red, and he heard a crunching noise as you bit into yours. He decided to do the same, finding the white flesh on the inside to be quite enjoyably sweet.

You bent below the counter, grabbing a book from a cabinet below. Still taking bites from your apple, you began to flip through the pages, looking for your favorite bread recipe.

Once you had located the page, you began to pull out the ingredients: flour, yeast, salt, and a cup for water. You let the water heat over an open flame encased in stone, waiting a minute before removing it and sprinkling some yeast into the cup. You took a spoon and stirred it gently, finally moving it aside for it to set.

"So," you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. "Mind telling me what the deal is with you?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy—"

"You threw a sponge at me this morning. I already think you're crazy. Besides, we can't do anything until the yeast bubbles, so you have five minutes to get started."

Starting? Where could he even start? And five minutes . . . all he needed was one sentence really. Tamaki tried to recall what he had rehearsed the night before, finally deciding on one path.

"It's true, that I've never been on land," he said.

You squinted at him, eager to hear what he had to say yet quietly wondering how that could be possible.

"You see, I've never left the ocean before. That's because I—I'm not exactly human."

Your eyebrows pulled together, not certain if you should believe him but still intrigued. "So what are you?" you asked.

"I'm a part of a species," he went on, "a sort of mer-people. I've never had legs before, just a tail—"

"You're a merman?!" you asked, incredulous.

Tamaki blinked. "You've heard of us?"

"In legends and stories, yes. But you're not really considered a recognized species. Most people don't even believe they exist; just an old sailors' tale." You paused, beginning to process what he'd told you. "Wait a second. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Tamaki gulped. "I could show you if you like, but I'd rather not. Growing legs really really hurt. So much so that I kinda passed out. Washed ashore . . . ."

"Oh my gods," you whispered. "But how? How did you just grow legs?"

Tamaki pulled the shell necklace out of his shirt, showing it to you. "This necklace here. I'm borrowing it from a mermaid. All I have to do is wear it and I have legs."

You rested your fingers against your mouth and chin, going back to mulling over what he had just relayed to you. "You know," you muttered, "it makes sense."

"Huh?"

"Everything makes sense now. Normally, I would call you crazy, but I mean, your original story barely even checked out at all. But now this? It makes much more sense. You were naked, you can't walk, you don't barely even know how to take care of yourself . . . ."

Tamaki winced at that. Geez, you could at least try to be more oblique.

He could practically see your mind racing as it looked as though you mentally replayed every interaction you'd had with him the day before. It made him uncomfortable, wanting to do the same just to see how badly he might have embarrassed himself.

"But why?" you asked, turning to look at him again. "Why would you want to leave the ocean?"

Tamaki blushed, knowing now that he wasn't ready to confess his crush on you. "I-I heard you singing, on one of your morning walks to the beach. I'd never seen a human before, and I wanted to get a closer look."

You lent him a small smile. "You could have just swum up to me. You didn't need legs to come and say hi."

"Well, your beach is really rough," Tamaki said, earning a hum from you in agreement. "Besides, we don't even speak the same language."

"But you're talking to me now."

"Yes, but that's the side effect of this necklace. I can understand your language, and you can understand me. But only you can hear me. I think everyone else just kind of hears nonsense when I try to talk to them."

"Why?"

"Because you were the first human to touch me after I put it on."

"That's strangely specific."

Tamaki shrugged helplessly. He didn't make the rules.             (⌐■‿■)

"I guess it explains why you didn't want to talk to Gabriel. And also why Brianne wouldn't get off my back about how creepy you are—"

"She what?"

"Nevermind." You paused to shake your head. "So how do the merpeople talk?" you asked. "What does it sound like?"

Tamaki tapped his fingers together. "It doesn't quite sound like anything, exactly. We use sign language primarily, but we can also sort of make little pinging noises and such."

"Ohh, that makes sense, since voices don't really work underwater." You nodded, catching on to what he was saying. You glanced over to your yeast cup, which had begun to bubble nicely. You added a good scooping pinch of salt to the mix, along with some more water before mixing it together well. "So why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" you asked, placing a bowl on the counter and measuring out a few cups of flour into it.

Tamaki chewed on his lip. "I didn't think you'd accept me."

You frowned to yourself as you added the liquid mixture, beginning to stir it in with the flour. "Well, I guess I would have had a hard time believing you."

Tamaki focused on your mixture in the bowl, watching as it combined into a sticky mass. "Besides, I'm really not supposed to be here," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Being among humans, turning into one; it's kinda illegal."

"Ohh." You started to strain a bit as the dough got more difficult to stir, putting as much arm strength as you could into keeping it moving. "So this kind of thing has happened before? Mermaids turning into people?"

"Um, nothing I've really heard of. Do you want help?"

"I've got it," you said. "The dough is pretty much ready anyway."

"I thought you said it took a long time."

"Oh, no. This is just the first part." You paused for a moment, a thought striking you. "You've never had bread before." It was more of a statement than a question.

Tamaki suddenly felt a bit defensive. "So?"

"There wouldn't be any way to bake it underwater, much less keep it dry." You looked back to him. "This is so cool! It's like you're from a completely different world than me."

"I am," Tamaki admitted. "I've already learned so much from being here."

"I can teach you even more," you said excitedly. "All you have to do is ask."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I get to hear about your home too, right?"

"Sure."

You beamed at him, finally ceasing in your dough mixing. "I'll start with bread baking. Sadly, we can't really get started for another twenty minutes because this has to rise."

As you waited, you began to explain yeast and how it worked. When you finished, you caught his gaze again.

"So the sponge this morning."

Tamaki blushed all over again, hiding his face in his hands. "I have a feeling I should not have done that."

"I just want to know what it meant."

Tamaki was too embarrassed to say. "I—I just really liked your singing."

"Well, thank you. But why were you carrying it around?"

Tamaki frantically tried to think of an answer. "It's, uh, a merman thing."

"Oh."

The two of you started to truly converse, exchanging information about yourselves with each other. When it was time, you split the dough in half and showed Tamaki how to pound his fists into the risen concoction. You watched as he awkwardly attempted to roll it between his hands and the counter, glancing over to you every so often in order to try to copy your technique. Eventually, he started to get the hang of it, pushing and pulling in a similar manner to your own practiced hands.

You noticed that something odd was starting to happen to you every time you looked at Tamaki. This feeling towards him was in no way foreign to you. You'd laid awake last night, unable to think about anything other than him. There was no way for you to deny that you'd begun to take interest in the new boy. You liked how he seemed so genuine, and his sweet, awkward nature had yet to fail to make your heart stutter. And the way he treated you; like you were any other person. There was no over the top groveling, no awkward attempts at trying to impress you. With Tamaki, you scarcely felt like you were bound to duties and a title at all. The secret-keeping had put you off, but now that you knew why . . . .

He was a merman. Wow. Were you really starting to develop a crush on a mythical creature? Granted, you hadn't known he was a mythical creature, and there was no reason for you to think otherwise until now. How would it even work . . . ?

"Uh, (Y/N)?"

Your fist suddenly punched the counter, completely missing the dough you had been absentmindedly aiming for. You hissed as a dull ache spread through the side of your hand, looking at it disappointedly as if it had betrayed you.

"Yeah?" you finally answered Tamaki, turning to look at him.

"Are you . . . alright?"

He was so cute, looking so concerned. The way his eyebrows had lightly pulled together, the way his lips ever so slightly dipped down at the corners and pursed in the middle.

"Y-yeah. Just . . . thinking." you glanced back down to your dough.

"Oh."

"I think we can start getting it ready to bake now," you said, trying to shake the thoughts out of your head.

There was no way Tamaki could be interested in you. Maybe he viewed you as a friend, sure, but you were just a human. A very important human. A princess, whose hand should probably be reserved as an asset for some kind of treaty or land agreement. Falling in love with the first boy who'd walked through your door and paid attention to you was foolish. And yet, a small part of you wondered how much it could truly hurt if you only let yourself have a little crush for a short while . . . .

You helped Tamaki shape his dough into a vague loaf shape, doing the same to yours before sliding them both onto a thin pan and making adjustments where necessary, finally cutting thin slits into the top.

"Now what?" Tamaki asked.

"We bake," you stated simply. You grabbed the pan off the counter and slid it in, making sure the fire below was warm enough before finally shutting the oven door. "And that, Tamaki," you said, "is how you make bread."

"Wow." Tamaki looked around at the now messy kitchen. "So how long does it have to stay in there?"

"Like half an hour. Here, help me clean up before Gabriel comes back to make lunch."

The two of you went back to conversing as you wiped flour off the counter top and rinsed out the bowls you'd used. He was a very interesting person—er, merman. He had a lot to say about the way you lived on land, comparing it to his own home. You couldn't help but listen, completely enraptured by what he had to say. You imagined the sense of wonder you felt hearing about his way of life was the same he felt learning about yours. He and you asked each other questions relentlessly, hoping to gain simple, beautiful understanding.

Not only did he ask about humans in general, he wanted to learn more about you. You explained more of your hobbies and talked about the islands. You didn't live on this one usually; Milrich was merely a temporary living situation more in the benefits of your father. Somertaugue was your true home, the main, larger island where you were born and grew up. Tamaki asked you to describe the island, wanting every detail of the different features land could offer.

"Well," you said, "the islands are all pretty similar composition wise. Now the mainland is where it really gets beautiful." You started explaining forests and deserts, mountains and valleys. Tamaki's eyes grew wide at your descriptions, occasionally interrupting with an attempted parallel to the sea, or merely an astonished 'oh'.

You were so engrossed in your conversation, you nearly forgot about your bread, slowly rising and hardening in the oven beside you. You pulled the loaves out and set them on the counter, tapping the crusts gingerly. "I think they're done. They'll have to cool, but guess what."

"What?"

"You just made bread." You held out your hand for a high five, only realizing at his brief hesitation that he had just learned what it was yesterday. Nevertheless, he slapped his hand against yours. You liked the feeling of his touch, even if it was only brief. You both easily slid back into your conversation, slicing yourselves a piece of bread when it was cooled, enjoying what was arguably the best loaf you'd ever made.

✤✤✤✤✤

Tamaki gazed out the window of the study room, enjoying his view of the sea. You sat quietly at your desk, doing your reading for the day. He had finally admitted to being unable to read your written script, and you had promised to teach him once some of your own work was out of the way.

While he waited, he watched the dark waters of the ocean crash against the beach, foam spraying into the air as waves collided with the familiar black rocks. Tamaki had never realized how entrancing the sea was from the surface, water moving back and forth endlessly against the shore. He'd been staring at it for quite some time, lost in thought when something new caught his eye.

An all too familiar head of blond hair had poked out of the water, an iridescent greenish-blue tail flicking around after it. Tamaki jolted at the sight. Mirio? What was he thinking?

"(Y/N)?" Tamaki called behind his shoulder.

"Mmm?" you answered, barely pulled out of your working zone.

"Can you . . . excuse me for a minute?"

"Sure . . . ." You tapped the end of your pen against your lip, not even glancing up to meet Tamaki's eyes.

He didn't pay attention to this fact, though. He was more concerned with his merman friend splashing around in broad daylight for no apparent reason. What if there was a reason? Tamaki's mind began to race as he hurriedly left your room and made his way down the halls, frantically searching for the door to the outside. Fortunately, he found it within a matter of minutes and slipped out of it, taking to the path you had shown him earlier that morning.

The sound of the ocean filled his ears as he neared the shore. Sure enough, looking out at the water, it wasn't long before his eyes found what he'd seen moments before from the window.

A tail had flashed out of the deeper waters a ways out from the beach, and seconds later, Tamaki saw a head pop out where it had previously been. An arm cheerily surfaced and waved upon spotting the form on shore, clearly missing the panicked expression his friend suddenly sported.

The dark haired man tried to send out a ping, but quickly realized that humans didn't work that way. He tried for a whistle, and that seemed to work. He made it sharp and urgent, borderline annoyed.

Mirio's hand lowered in the water and Tamaki could make out a hint of confusion on his face from afar.

Tamaki mentally cursed the dangerous layout of the beach. He wanted to be able to talk to his best friend in private without being so far apart (the 2020 mood).

He saw Mirio point to Tamaki's right, motioning for him to follow while he dived underwater again. Tamaki began to walk along the shore, trying to move over the land as quickly and safely as he could. He saw Mirio's head pop out of the water every so often to make sure he was following.

After about twenty minutes of clambering over rocks and tramping through long grass, Tamaki found that Mirio had led him to an area of the shore where the sea was a little quieter, and the rocks weren't so concentrated.

Mirio swam as close as he dared, fearing getting stuck too close to shore. Tamaki further closed the distance by cautiously venturing into the water, wincing at how nigh unbearably cold it was.

Waves now slapped against the bottoms of his pants, and Tamaki wondered briefly how far he should dare to venture before they would knock him over. If worse came to worst, he could always take off the necklace again, but the memory of the pain from the day before made him hesitant. He decided to just anchor his feet into the sand as best he could, feeling himself sink into the soft granules below.

Mirio's head bobbed in the water a meter away from Tamaki, finally looking him up and down for the first time.

Look at you! he signed, dipping his face under the water to try to catch a better glimpse of his feet and toes, which by now were covered by a fine layer of wet black sand. Tamaki jumped at the sensation of a hand grabbing at the sensitive skin of his foot, nearly falling backwards into the water as it was yanked towards Mirio's face. He finally popped back up again, looking incredibly impressed. So the necklace really worked, huh?

It sure did. Tamaki was relieved to find that even in this human form, he was still able to communicate with his merman friend.

So, began Mirio, how's it going? Did you meet her yet? Did you confess? Is she all yours?

Tamaki frantically shook his wrists, trying to quell the increasing onslaught of questions spilling from Mirio's hands. I just told her I'm a merman, Tamaki answered. She seemed pretty chill with it.

Awesome! Mirio happily swished his tail around in the water, only causing rougher and larger waves to wash over Tamaki's legs.

Tamaki threw his hands out, trying to stay balanced as salt water splashed up onto his chest.

Sorry, man, the blond said, stilling himself to the best of his ability. What's it like having legs anyway? They're so small. Mirio briefly ducked back down to poke at them.

It's certainly different. Everything up here is so strange to me. Mirio, you can't even imagine all the interesting things I've learned about humans!

Tamaki went on for quite some time, relaying the events of the past two days he'd spent with you. The entire time, Mirio's eyes remained glued to Tamaki's hands, fascinated with what he had to tell. Once he was done, Mirio put his chin in one of his hands, mulling over what Tamaki had said.

Sounds like she's interested, he finally ruled. So you haven't tried anything yet?

Um, well . . . . Tamaki's face reddened and he tapped his fingers together, cringing at what he'd done. I, uh, offered her a sponge this morning.

YOU DID?! Mirio launched himself at Tamaki's legs, wrapping his arms around them in an excited embrace.

He lost his balance, crashing down into the frigid water. It was only now that Tamaki noticed how cold his feet were getting, and now almost the entire lower half of his body was numb. He stood up again, sputtering and trying to wipe water out of his eyes.

Mirio looked up at him, a little surprised at his response. Gee, sorry, man. I guess humans really aren't meant to be in the water at all.

Well, I almost died the moment I became one. Tamaki quickly checked under his shirt to make sure the necklace was still securely around his neck.

Yeah . . . . But you gave her a sponge? Mirio asked, recovering quickly to jump back into the previous topic.

Yes.

How did it go? She had to have liked that!

Erm, well . . . I don't think humans do that.

Aw, what?

Yeah, I might have actually kind of offended her.

Mirio frowned, dumbfounded as to why you wouldn't appreciate Tamaki's sponge offering. But you threw it at her and everything?

I think that that was what she didn't like.

Mirio shook his head. Wild. So what do humans like?

See! I don't know! She mentioned something about flowers. Maybe I could try those?

What are flowers? Mirio squinted at him.

They're like plant thingies. They come in all different types of colors and shapes.

Like shells? Ooh, you should get her shells.

Oh, that's a good idea . . . . Tamaki thought for a moment. I haven't seen any, but it's not like I've been looking. An abrupt shiver racked through Tamaki's body.

You good, man? Mirio asked, suddenly looking a little concerned.

Yeah, just cold. I think I might need to get going anyway, she'll probably be looking for me.

Okay.

And don't splash around in the water! Someone could have seen you. I saw you from up the cliff and I wasn't even looking for you.

Oops, sorry. Mirio edged forward enough to give Tamaki's leg a pat, however, this time it was far more gentle. It sounds like you're doing just fine. I guess I'll leave you to it.

It was nice to see you, Mirio.

No problem. Mirio backed himself up. See you soon! He turned and waved before diving back into the sea, swimming off in the direction of home.

Tamaki shivered again, clutching his arms around his chest. He could see why humans had little interest in going into this water. With the waves assisting him, Tamaki was able to trudge his way to shore quite easily. The sun was starting to set behind him, so he made sure to hurry back to your place as soon as he could.

Tamaki made it back within the next half hour. The guard positioned at the entrance of the chateau recognized him from the day before and let him in. He wandered through the halls, trying to see if he could find either his or your room from memory. Rounding a corner, he suddenly came face to face with you.

"Tamaki!" You jumped, startled, but then surged forward to pull him into a hug. "Where were you?" You pulled away, concern and confusion written all over your face. "And why are you so cold and damp? And you smell like—wait, were you just in the ocean right now?"

"Um, yeah." Tamaki rubbed at the back of his neck. He probably should have told you where he was headed, but the sight of Mirio had caught him so off guard . . . .

"Don't you know how dangerous that is?!" you scolded. "Although I guess you are a merman, that's right. But you were alone! And I didn't know where you got off to—!" You huffed, clearly upset.

Tamaki awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

"Sorry?" you bit back. "You're not a prisoner here or anything, but I'd thought you would at least tell me if you left." It almost looked like a dampness was starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.

"I did," Tamaki stated simply. "My friend was just outside and I had to get him to stop thrashing around in the water in plain sight like that. I didn't mean to be gone so long."

"Your friend?" Your glistening eyes looked back up into his face.

"Yeah. He just wanted to see how I was doing."

"Oh. Was it Mirio?"

Tamaki nodded. He had brought up his best friend while he was talking to you earlier.

You sighed, shoulders finally losing their rigid hold. "I guess I understand. It's just that I looked up and you were gone and I realized it had been a while . . . ."

"You were worried about me?" Tamaki couldn't help but smile a little on the inside.

"Of course I was! I like you, Tamaki. I like talking to you." You swallowed and dropped your gaze to the floor.

Was it just his imagination, or did your face suddenly look a little red?

He shivered a little where he stood, and you noticed. "Come on," you finally said. "Let's at least get you warmed up."

"Okay."

You walked with him side by side all the way back to his room.

"I really am sorry to have worried you," Tamaki said, the thick silence between the both of you making him uncomfortable.

"It's alright. As long as you're okay."

As long as he was okay . . . .

"Still friends?" Tamaki asked.

"Of course."

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

[Part Six]

Author's Note:

Me: *Casually writes 6k-word chapter about sponges and bread for a fanfic* This is fine (< W >)

Sorry if the whole bread thing got kinda boring, I might have gotten a little bit carried away. Yes, I did look up a bread recipe, and no, I have never legit baked bread before (we have a bread machine, fancy fancy, so that's really nice).

Also, I am NOT crazy about the whole sponge thing. I literally went down a rabbit hole googling how dolphins and sharks "flirt" with each other (RIP my search history) for like an hour and I totally recommend looking it up for yourself, it's actually quite interesting. I'd link the articles but Wattpad doesn't like that so yeah.

Have a nice day/evening/night!

-Sugar

Taglist: 

@inumorph​ @engel-hageshii​ @milkteeboba​ @pansexual-potterhead​ @ure-a-sunflower​ @xeina​ @kingtamakimurder​ @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Bad Behavior, A Dancer in her Own Right

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Two chapters today, but this one’s a bit of a shorter update anyway. Believe it or not, we’re getting towards the end of volume 1 now!! It’ll be all posted by the end of December, and then in the new year at some point we’ll start posting 2. We’re also looking into Wattpad, and maybe even making an audiobook, so keep an eye out for those updates. Enjoy the chapters!)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

17. Bad Behavior

    A tap on her shoulder alerted Azure to someone just behind her. She turned, smile plastered to her face. The woman was about her age, grinning conspiratorially. That was never good, in her book. Grinning usually meant there was a plan for the conversation, and conspiratorially meant she’d have to actually participate. She washed away her distaste for the idea with some champagne before speaking.

    “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

    “Oh no, we haven’t. Samantha Whitewater, my family owns the Whitewater mining firm.” The introduction was followed by a small bow, which Azure returned. A colony family, then. Whitewater continued. “I just wanted to congratulate you.”

    Congratulate her? She hadn’t done anything of note to these people. She never made deals and she talked about herself as little as possible, trying to create a black box of a history no one would question. There was nothing to congratulate, and even less for a stranger to bring up out of nowhere. She touched the comm.

    Hey Hotshot, you remember anyone from the Whitewater family?

    I think I got a proposal from them once, he responded. More business than pleasure, though I think they wanted a marriage too. At least they didn’t keep pushing when I denied both.

    That was all she needed. At least Samantha and her family had manners. Her smile relaxed to something more genuine. She didn’t know what she was about to be congratulated for, but at least it wouldn’t be underhanded. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, things have been awful slow for me lately.” 

    “Oh, nothing like that. I’m just congratulating you on making such a good match. No one else here could say the same, though of course the Jericho name is something of a hot-ticket item to many of us. My own family included, I have to admit.” She laughed like it was some kind of joke between friends, and Azure’s blood pressure rose. Trinity, seeming to just take notice of the conversation as Azzy’s burgeoning anger began to make itself known through their mental link, began to turn, a crease in his brow the only sign of confusion showing through the ice-sculpture poise he wore around these events like armor.

    She blinked to cover for the twitch in her eye, tucking her hands behind her back to cover the sparking. She ignored the vague warning of Azzy, no, that buzzed in the back of her head from Trinity, bulldozing on. “I wasn’t aware he was on sale in the first place.” Her words came out clipped, stilted, and poisonously sweet. Speaking of her friend as though he was an item made her stomach churn, even in retaliation. These events often weren’t terrible until something like this came up, the word choice surrounding people objectifying and economic in the worst manner. But never once had someone brazenly spoken about Trinity to her face before, like it was normal or expected. That was her friend Whitewater was talking about, the one who’d taught her about shrimp forks and helped her reach high shelves in her lab and made poorly edited images of frogs telling bad jokes for her when she was sad. She seethed. “I suppose that would explain why you caught me off guard then.”

    The woman blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it’s like where you come from--” the incredibly rude phrasing was somehow undercut by the fact that she still didn’t seem to think she was insulting anyone at all-- “but clearly you’re not used to this kind of society. We’re all a commodity here. The best he or anyone should hope for is to find someone equally as useful to him as he is to them, and maybe someone he can get along with-- though with someone as Icy as Jericho I never held out too much hope for that. That could have been me, but I guess it’s you.”

    Azure opened her mouth to speak, but Trinity’s hand on her back stopped her just long enough for her to hear him out. Azure. She’s right. Drop it.

     Azure shot back a response with a dangerous growl entering her mental voice, indignant and angry and protective. I don’t recall askin’ how anyone else here felt about it but me, so you drop it. She cleared her throat, her tone once more painted over with a thin veneer of polite but apparent disdain. “It is me, thank you very much Miss Whitewater. I wish you the very best of luck in finding someone merely useful to you.” If it wasn’t going to get her kicked out, she’d have spat at the woman’s feet like she used to when people bullied Crim in elementary school. Instead, she grinned conspiratorially with entirely too many of her teeth. “Because as we both know, that’s simply the most one can hope for in this wonderful little bubble.”

    “Like you’ve done any better.” Whitewater finally seemed perturbed, angry that something was disrupting her sterile worldview. Her lip curled slightly. “That man touches you like he’d rather be doing anything else. Two inches away from anything that could be considered a little risque, even while dancing? At least someone like me would’ve known what I was getting into, with someone like him.” 

    Trinity saw Azzy draw in a breath, and knew whatever she was about to say would be even worse. So before it could leave her mouth. Trinity had turned fully to face the two of them, and in an instant his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist. His hand rested squarely on her hip-- right on the strip of skin her dress’ cutout bodice left exposed to the air. His fingers dug into her flesh just slightly. Not hard enough to even leave prints on the skin, but just enough to send a message. Azzy relaxed in posture only, looking for all the world like a guard dog that had just been told to sit as she looked up at him sidelong. “I’m sorry, Miss Whitewater, but my date and I have business elsewhere. Will this be all?”

    “Of course. Enjoy your evening, Jericho. Garza.” Whitewater’s voice was stilted. Trinity turned Azzy around and used his arm around her to begin to shepard her away-- he wasn’t sure she was prepared to actually leave this alone, left to her own devices. They made it about ten feet before Azure looked back over her shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist as well and winking back at Whitewater, Garza’s supposed devious intention with Trinity on display. Internally, there was a small blip of take that, asshole, and then a self satisfied calm. Trinity sighed. He hated to play into whatever that was, but unfortunately a deserted hallway was likely the only place he was going to be able to talk to Azzy alone. He tugged her away into a winding passage off to the side of the main ballroom, gritting his teeth as he imagined the scandalized stare that Whitewater woman was probably still sending after them. He couldn’t deny that it was… amusing, to an extent. But he liked to avoid attention he wasn’t looking for at this kind of thing, and the last thing he needed was a jilted business-lover spreading around the fact that he’d pulled his date into a secret corner in the middle of an event. What was done was done, though, and he had to admit he hoped Whitewater felt sufficiently humiliated by the end of all that. Whatever it was.

    Finally satisfied they were alone, he let go of Azzy-- careful not to let his hands linger a second longer than they had to-- and sighed, leaning against the wall with a slightly bemused smile. “What was that about? And why did it seem to have everything and nothing to do with me?”

    Azure blew a stray curl from her face, absently rubbing her hip where he’d touched her with her opposite arm. The consequences of her actions appeared to be finally setting in, and her face was apologetic in that same way it was when she realized she’d started eating in massive bites at dinner instead of polite and small ones yet again. She looked almost bashful as she looked up at him. “Sorry Hotshot, I just...I don’t know, she started talkin’ about you like you were a thing instead of a person. I’m used to ‘em talkin’ about how hot you are, and that’s fine because it’s true at least, but no one’s ever said anythin’ like that about you right to my face before, it pissed me off.” She finally let her own hip go, shaking her hands to rid them of sparks and avoiding his eyes to avoid letting it be known just how honest she was about to be. “It’s rude, and it’s dehumanizin’, and I just believe real strongly that you deserve better than that.”

    Trinity almost denied it, wanting to cite times he certainly had not deserved better, but the last thing he wanted was to open up that can of worms. The wound of his profiteering off that war-torn planet was still too fresh, his apology still somewhat inadequate. Instead, he just shook his head. “I know what you think, but whether that’s truly how I am or not, it’s how I’ve presented myself for years to these people. Besides, she practically called you a bumpkin to your face too, and I’m not sure you even noticed.” He felt something soften slightly inside him as he looked at his friend. She’d been defending him. God strike him down if he knew why. God would probably strike him down regardless.

    She waved a hand, looking unaffected. “Who gives a shit about me? I am a bumpkin for all these people should care. But you’re…” she struggled, squinting her eyes and scrunching her freckled nose as the machinery of her mind ground its way to some kind of an end to her sentence that was eloquent. It failed. Instead, she came out with: “You’re cooler’n they are and they should admit it to themselves and act with some damn respect.”

    Trinity tried and failed for several moments to hold himself together before he burst, doubling over with laughter. She’d never seen him laugh like this in person-- heard it, maybe, over a particularly good meme or something, but never like this, actual tears forming in his eyes. She grinned, wide and crooked, her job here complete. He slapped his knee, struggling to straighten back up. “Ah, Az. You’ve brought us full circle.” He wiped a hand over his eyes. “I give a shit about you. I am also what she said about me. And you are also ‘cooler’n’ them. Yes?”

    Now suddenly she was bashful again. No one ever called her cool. Smart, maybe, or nice or even helpful sometimes, but never cool. She blushed. “Sure. At least I know how to act normal. Sorta. In comparison, at least.” Her hand reached up to scratch behind her ear, sympathy painting her features. “It’s a sad little life she’s about to lead. Honestly, I hope it’s what she actually wants or else she’s gonna be damn lonely without an actual someone to connect with.”

    “It’s a sad life most of us lead,” was his only response. His face was turned slightly from her, into the shadows of the dark hallway, leaving his expression unreadable. “Sometimes there are things more important than our own happiness. Shall we?” He held out a hand, gesturing back down the hall towards the well-lit bustle of the ballroom. It struck Azzy that things in this world seemed to hide better among glitter and blinding lights than they did in the dark. Nevertheless, she placed her own hand gently in his.

    “Now remember, act like you like me or else I might actually have to throw down one of these days.”

    “Right, right.” Trinity huffed out a tiny little laugh, his fingers finding the skin of her hip once more. “As long as you’re alright with it.”

    “I’m a bad actor, this is easier.” She leaned her head into his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning into him. “Plus, this way I don’t even have to stand up straight.”

18. A Dancer In Her Own Right

    Her boots made a gentle beat against the hard metal of the floor. One step then another, sure of herself even as she looked in the opposite direction to her movement. There was a rhythm to her every sway, every object she tossed over her shoulder and caught in the other hand a step in a dance she was choreographing on the spot. Something from this drawer, cross the room to another cabinet, all of it swirling around that constant central point that was the examination table and her workbench. Watching her set up for a deep maintenance test was like witnessing a ballet. Her stretch for something off a high shelf was easy, graceful. She knew exactly how far everything was, exactly how many steps to get there. She carried the objects she collected as though they weighed nothing, a spring in her step the whole way. 

    Trinity sat on a counter as far out of her way as he could get, but he might as well not have been there at all, for all having another person in her space slowed her down. He couldn’t help but marvel a bit at the sureness of her movements, now that she was in a place entirely her own. In society and on a ballroom floor she stumbled occasionally, one might even assume she was clumsy. That thought would be long gone the moment they saw this dance, one made by and for her, the perfect combination of grace and power. Ballroom dances were as much for the observers as the dancers themselves, but being able to observe this felt like a privilege more than a right. Being allowed to appreciate this sight as an outsider, a friend but someone who would admit freely that he couldn’t even begin to understand her, was a gift. In this moment, Trinity relaxed, and let himself appreciate the organic yet mechanical beauty of her, without letting his brain get in the way. After all, dancing was supposed to be instinct above thought. 

    She held out a hand, and he automatically picked up a wrench that sat at his side, placing the handle in her palm. She took it without looking, and the dance went on. She vaulted casually onto a countertop like it was the most natural thing in the world, grabbing some gray box off a shelf near the ceiling and hopping down without a hint of hesitation, no signs of exhaustion as sparks flew in her wake. She made her way back to the center to drop both things off, to pick up something else, to continue this seemingly endless waltz. Individual curls of hair freed themselves from her braid, her beanie long discarded in favor of having the goggles she typically wore around her neck situated atop her head. She stopped briefly at the edge of her stage, only to map out a new path that carved the edges of the room from the center, a small bucket in hand to hold whatever things she needed as she went along. She needed a lot of trinkets and tools, and she knew what each of them were. She paused briefly in front of him, and pointed above his head. It took him a moment to insert himself into her rhythm again, then he knew what she wanted without words. He slid off the counter and held out his hands to make a step for her, boosting her up to whatever it was she needed to reach. She stepped lightly onto his outstretched hands, opening a cabinet and pulling a bottle down in the same motion as her descent back to the ground. She flashed him a grin, crooked and pleased. He heard a snippet of something she was humming to herself, low and sweet, her own orchestra to accompany her own dance. 

    Now that he was no longer needed for the moment, Trinity hopped back up on the counter, content to just watch her work in perfect harmony with herself.

[litriu]

Hi I'm stalking your art tag because you're SO GOOD and just?? How did you improve so much? My art looks the same from like. 10 years ago. How do you do what you do

First of all, thank you so much!! You’re such a sweetie!I am by no means an art teacher. I feel like you have to have a certain mindset to be a teacher, and I don’t have one of those mindset. I’m not good at it, so I don’t teach, but I will give you some really helpful stuff I wish I’d figured out earlier.

Second of all I’m going to give you a boring answer you don’t want to hear and I don’t want to say:

Practice.

Now, here’s the more fun answer that I’m hoping is more helpful:

Practice while you’re going. Every time I draw is a chance to practice. I’ll draw and redraw poses and edit them about a dozen times before I settle on it for lining! In one of my most recent drawings I have AT LEAST 29 layers of me drawing, redrawing, and tweaking the poses.

Practice can mean sitting down and doing 20 hand sketches, or practice can mean something different. Find out what method of practice works best for you. Sometimes drawing a thousand hands doesn’t help, and it’s okay if it doesn’t help you. Find another method!

Don’t settle on your first draft! Redrawing something is not only improving the drawing, but giving you experience for the future!

Draw from life, i know, that’s really basic. But still, it helps!

Make practice fun! Motivate yourself to practice by using things you enjoy drawing. Are you garbage at drawing hands, but you love drawing aliens? Draw aliens with a bunch of hands. This is a really basic example, but you get the jist!

My babe and I recently (before I came down with tendonitis and had to take a break) would watch a dance video where the dancers are wearing relatively snug clothing, pause it at a random place, set a timer for 5 minutes and draw whatever pose we got. (you can obviously do a shorter time if you want!) It helped a lot with foreshortening, movement, and making bodies look more 3d.

Speaking of which this won’t help your art any but it’ll help your health: S T R E T C H before, after, and while you draw, okay? You know that tendonitis I mentioned? Yeah, guess who didn’t stretch. Find stretches that work for you. Wrists, back, neck. Walk around a little every once in a while. Drink water. Eat. Take care of yourself.

Practice SMART, not just practice. Figure out what you want to strengthen in your art style. If you want to focus on improving the fluidity or readability of your poses, doing half hour studies of detailed landscapes or portraits isn’t going to help with that. Doing 1 minute speed-sketches of exaggerated poses might, though. Same goes for if you want to get better at drawing landscapes and detailed portraits.

You’ll get something out of it, so if you want to do these things do them! They’re fun! but don’t draw nothing but anime eyes and wonder why you can’t draw a skyscraper perfectly.

REFERENCE. U S E R E F E R E N C E

I’m gonna break this wall of text up with a doodle of a kitten because it’s a lot

Don’t be afraid of shitty anatomy! Sometimes to get the right perspective, it has to look weird. Making mistakes helps you learn what to improve. What works and what doesn’t. And, in my experience, the pieces I obsessed over were the pieces I felt like aged the worse, while pieces I had fun doing and relaxed drawing are still pieces I really love.

All in all, just don’t be afraid of mistakes. You’ll make them, just have fun making them.

EXPERIMENT, EXPERIMENT, EXPERIMENT! Experiment with colors. With more lineweight, with less lineweight, with weird anatomy and proportions, try out aspects of art styles you love, try out aspects of art styles you hate! Just have fun!

Step out of that comfort zone! Learn something new! You don’t have to curate an entire art exhibit on horses if you can’t draw horses, but sketch a couple at least.

Take bits and pieces from everywhere and adapt them to what works best for you. Does this method of sketching not work for you? Okay, change it. Find a new one. Find one that works better. That includes this list of tips! If something I’m saying doesn’t work for you? IGNORE IT! find something new. Don’t try to force yourself to work in a box that doesn’t work for you. It’ll just make you feel inadequate, and instead of spending time improving, you’re spending time trying to fit into the box.

I can’t give you too many super specific tips because I don’t know your art style or what you want to improve, but in general, just experiment and adapt to whatever works best for you.

This one is more of a catch all for developing your art, not nesecarilly improving it: Don’t treat things like color theory as sacred rules of the land that cannot be broken. Learn anatomy, learn color theory, learn about lineweight and how it works, learn about light and shadow! But keep in mind; they’re a guide for how things work, not an instruction manual. Do whatever you think looks cool, even if that isn’t what other people say looks good.

Learn at every opportunity! You think that lighting is cool? Try to replicate it. You watched a speedpaint and you liked their technique? try it out for yourself. Like that color palette? Analyze what you like about it and try to replicate that feeling.

Draw as often as you can! And “draw as often as you can” does not mean draw until your hands and arms hurt! It means draw a little when you have some time, if you have the energy. Don’t hurt yourself.

Time for another kitten break

Take a step back if you don’t like how something’s turning out. close it up, have something to eat, sleep on it, work on something else, whatever. If you’ve just been looking at it too long, that’ll fix it. And if there’s actually something off, you’ll come back to it less frustrated and with fresh eyes!

Draw fingernails on hands. This sounds really weird and dumb and random but it literally upped my hand game by at least 25%. It does WONDERS for portraying the angle of the hand.

A major chunk of my artistic development and improvement was done in a very unhealthy way. When I was younger, I would push myself to pain, I’d stay up until 3-6 am drawing something, I’d cry at least once every two weeks because I wasn’t good enough. I improved a lot very quickly, but I pushed myself way too hard because I was so desperate to improve…

Don’t do that. I mean it. I’m very thankful for the growth i achieved in that time, but if you can avoid that phase, do. It’s better to improve slowly and keep a healthy relationship with your art than to push yourself so hard that art becomes a chore and you lose your passion, or even hurt yourself.

Finished not Perfect

Your art has improved!! I promise it has, it may not seem like it but it has! You don’t see it right away, but every single drawing is a little better than the last as long as you keep striving to learn a little more with every drawing. Everything grows at a different pace, and you’re growing at the right pace for you.

You’re good enough right now! Have goals for what you want to do with your art, not standards for how “good” you need to be!

I’m sorry this post is long, I wish I could say “I sacrificed my soul to the art demons” but… I can’t say that. I didn’t do anything special.

Draw as much as you can, draw what makes you happy, draw new and exciting things, and surround yourself with art, artists, and people that inspire you!

BEND ART TO YOUR WILL AND MAKE IT YOUR PET

If you know an art demon that might help too idk?

aaaand here’s one more incredibly small, incredibly round kitten

[huntsthemoon]

Heather’s Crazy Teen Wolf 6B Fan Theories.... #3

So this is the 6.11 photo edition.... buckle up folks this could get messy.

If you want to see the others #1 & #2 here and here....

Photos and theories below the cut....

So I’m just gonna jump right to it here..... like I said buckle up there might be a tinge of messy here....

So Stiles is obviously in FBI training. So all this it’s only been a few months business is utter bullshit. He was in a pre-FBI program at a university and I’m sorry this is full blow shit to me. But also TW screw you for putting Dylan in a damn thin white shirt with no undershirt and doing everything possible to cover it up. I can’t handle that and the hands and the sleeves rolled up. Also this almost looks like a blooper to me, like Dylan was doing his best not to laugh. I’d like to think that Stiles once he got to the FBI and not with Scott he would be so into it. But it is Stiles so there’s that....

I feel like this one adds absolutely nothing to this at all. Other than the obviously hand porn and the fact they’ve covered his chest again. Oh and lets show that FBI logo again so this seems legit. Is this FBI training or FBI merchandise day?

Of course lets have Stiles be the only one asking questions lol. Also goes to show he’s the only one with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. Stiles the rebel haha. I’m guessing this is all the shots of Stiles in FBI training we’ll get.

So I’m just gonna point out how much these people like to hang out in the morgue.... where the hell is their autopsy dude/dudette? Like does no one work in the Beacon Hills Morgue? I would think it’s quite the busy place... 

But on to why the hell does Scott have one of the Argent’s Super Tasers? I’m guess with things going down in the BH he feels Melissa needs something to protect herself. But what she’s just supposed to pack that thing around? Yeah that doesn’t look suspicious in the slightest.

I wasn’t even going to include this image because it’s kinda pointless to the plot really. Other than to point out this is the same shirt he’s wearing in the trailers where the hunters have all their laser sights trained on him.... so this happens around that time. Whether before or after is unclear.

I’m just trying to understand how this conversation goes??? “Oh thank you my sweet boy for this deadly weapon that I can totally have with me at all times. No one will notice this thing hanging down to my knee off of my belt.”

But also good try TW, you can’t make Posey seem taller by making Melissa reach up to hug him when his back is obviously bent in a way that means he’s way shorter than her. But 0 points for effort.

Like who was in charge of picking these stills??? Look at the expression on Mason’s face??? What is that??? 

But also look at these sweet boys bringing Mama McCall what looks like supper at work. How adorbs. But why? This still makes no sense? But what did I expect. Also this seems to happen at a different point in the episode than the ones with Scott because Melissa’s scrubs are a different colour or is it a trick of the light?

I���m guessing this happens just after the above scene. He appears to still be in the hospital. But I have a question TW. What happened to their eyes showing first??? Before the fangs drop. It’s been that way for 5 and a half damn season why change now??? Probably because it’s cheaper effects-wise.... just saying.

And this right here!!!! Obviously the hospital. But he’s just standing there amongst the chaos because..... I’m guess to intimidate Liam and Mason but. Like no one is reacting to him. So is this actually happening? Yes? No? Like this dude to his left is just looking at something of screen totally oblivious.

And here’s classic Teen Wolf doing dark ass night shoots in the woods. Has anyone noticed that the trees in the woods have completely changed since season 1?? Like I feel they actually shot outside more in Season 1 and this is more obviously a studio with the same like five trees. Also what Liam had no time to change out of his gear between practice and what is supposed to be night. JFC he must smell ripe!! Especially to the supernatural noses around him.

And I’m gonna point this out one more time TW. Scott is obviously standing on something to be that much taller than Liam. Posey is literally like an inch taller than Sprayberry not six inches taller. Good try again though but 0 points to you.

Okay this dude is supposed to be an escapee from Eichin.... he found jeans and boxer briefs that fit perfectly but he couldn’t find a shirt. I mean I’m enjoying the view but is it necessary??? Oops forgot where we were again. But I am going to see they did pick a good shot to show him like lingering watching... being generally creepy.

again where is the eye glow????? But curious to see where in the episode this is going to fall???

Lydia being confused possibly about how she got out there? Are we gonna see her find a body? Or is she able to track supernatural escapees now? Also holy dressed down Lydia. Barely any make-up and a hoodie? Wow!

So gonna point out that hoodie of Scott’s again. And the fact the angle makes Malia look short as shit. Shelley is fairly tall ya’ll. Still not sure if they’re looking at a body of if Lydia is doing her zone out Banshee bis-snatch.

And of course they give us one last shot with styles at the “FBI” the least the could do was make that logo look like it’s supposed to be there.... It’s lifting on the edges and that’s a weird placement from where in the area it is to the face of it not facing a proper straight angle. They literally put a camera there and then said, “ok which angle makes this the easiest for the viewers to read” I know I’m looking for accuracy in TW and that’s a mistake but it will still bother me, just saying....

Wow this one was very ranty.... hope you all like it... if not feel free to flame the shit out of me. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer but you can try. 

Or if you like it and want to see it continue let me know that too :D

~Heather aka @eleanoraargent