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kessielrg · 3 years

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Comeback Kid: Part 3

Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom and @animacreates are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore?

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,492 words

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

If you liked this story, please reblog!

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In dance, the phrase 'one more time' was its biggest lie. It was always 'one more time' before you ran through the routine seven more times. It was very common for a class to sometimes run five to ten minutes over just because the teacher wanted to make sure everyone had the right steps down. The only good thing about having private lessons meant that you could almost end the session whenever you wanted. Roxanne wasn't that bad either- no surprise, Max was pretty good at finding genuine girls.

Not much smaller than Sabrina, Roxanne was a lovely redhead with a habit of twisting her hair when she was nervous or excited. When dancing, she kept her hair up in a high ponytail with a little strand hanging down on the right side of her face. Sabrina didn't want to admit it, but Roxanne was pretty good as an instructor. Just a few days under her tutelage and Sabrina was once more accustomed to her dancing shoes. It also helped that Sabrina was there four times a week. She would have been here six times a week if her family wasn't closely monitoring her. It was like being a preteen all over again.

“The recital isn't that far away, but if you want to, I'm sure we can squeeze you in.” Roxanne offered after the first week. At this point, Sabrina had gotten a refresher on the basics, so she and Roxanne were working on a short routine for her to further develop her old skills. “You can use this routine we're going through and everything.”

“I've got all the time in the world, Roxanne.” Sabrina prudently informed her. She couldn't look at her teacher because she was currently stretching a leg on the barre. “I can be here every day of the week if I wanted. As long as I'm home before 10. I'm on a curfew.”

“Any particular reason?” Roxanne asked, not meaning any harm. “I noticed that someone usually drops you off. Max mentioned that you were trying to recuperate from a bad breakup. Is that still the case?”

Sabrina's body tensed. “Yeah.” she grumbled. She switched legs before telling Roxanne, “Apparently, coming home and screaming like you've got witnessed a murder means you've had a mental breakdown and need to take a month to recover. If that.”

“Oh, wow.” Roxanne marveled. “I didn't know. I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else, then!”

“Let's.” came the agreeing hiss.

“I know!” the bubbly instructor said. “The local radio station is going to be interviewing some staff here at the studio for a little sketch they're doing. Something about hometown heroes or hotspots? Either way, I'm one of the staff that volunteered to be interviewed, so I may have to leave our session for a bit to talk to one of the hosts.”

“When is this happening?” Sabrina questioned, putting her leg down so she could give Roxanne a hard glare.

“Next Monday, I believe.” Roxanne grinned. But then she noticed Sabrina's dark expression and seemed taken aback. “You don't mind, do you?”

“No, I guess not.” Sabrina replied, her voice rather dark, before she got down to the floor to straddle the wall. Maybe the pain from the stretch warmup would distract enough to not be bitter.

. . .

“Lengthen your body a bit more. Good. Now lower your leg slowly… Perfect!”

This routine was becoming second nature at this point. Roxanne would sometimes stand near Sabrina to help her balance a bit when they had to review certain positions, such as at this moment. Not that Sabrina particularly enjoyed the -literal- hand holding. Still, someone would have tutted at her for not accepting other's help- let alone from her own teacher. She could stomach this for now.

The girls were interrupted when Roxanne's phone started to go off. She carefully let go of Sabrina before going on over to see who it was. She gave the phone a rather funny look as she answered it.

“Hello?” she asked. Sabrina only half listened to the conversation as she got some water from her water bottle. “Is he here? That's great! I'll be out in a moment.”

Roxanne happily twisted her hanging strand of hair. “He's here!” she happily announced to Sabrina.

“I'll be back in a jiffy. Feel free to go through the routine again, or whatever else you'd like.”

Sabrina gave the instructor a rather disinterested hum in response. It didn't phase Roxanne in the slightest. She happily smiled before heading on out the door. Sabrina looked back to where Roxanne had left, then her gaze fell to the one-way mirror next to the door. It was placed there so parents could watch their children dance. Sabrina had a good feeling that other people used it to peep in on whoever was in that studio at the time. She knew that at least one single parent on Mondays looked in on her while she practiced. He wasn't particularly cute and his kid was a brat, always asking to go to the bathroom so they didn't have to be in a class they didn't even enjoy.

She had a feeling someone was watching her now, and the thought made her grimace.

Besides throwing a towel up at the window, there wasn't much Sabrina could do about it. So instead she went to the stereo and flipped through her music playlist. She didn't know how long Roxanne would take, but she wouldn't spend her time just sitting around for her. Sabrina clicked her tongue as she went through every song she had, not liking a single one at the moment. She finally paused when a song with a relatively good beat started to play. Her expression hard, Sabrina carefully stepped away from the stereo to the center of the room.

She looked at herself in the mirror as she started to move her body to the music. It was like she was experimenting. The routine she and Roxanne were working on led emphasis more to her legs and upper body control than much else. But this time, Sabrina just went with whatever felt good. Quick foot movements, seductive little hip tilts, her arms used to bring her chest up a bit higher as she continued to watch herself. Sometimes she'd close her eyes- phantom images of a certain someone crossing her mind as she moved her body just the way she wanted. She never once got the chance to 'service' him like a professional. The idea just never came up before. Now it was the only thing she could think of.

She was a bit disappointed when the song ended. At the same time, she didn't realize how much of a workout she had given herself. Her chest lightly heaved as she caught her breath. She wasn't quite aware that the door to the studio room opened up until she saw someone with fiery red hair enter with Roxanne. Sabrina immediately spun around to give them both a dark glare. Roxanne didn't seem to notice Sabrina's annoyance, the newcomer (who had to be a good six feet at least) just grinned at her in a smarmy way.

“Sabrina!” Roxanne happily said, “Come meet Lea. He's that radio host I mentioned earlier.”

Sabrina remained rooted in her spot. It didn't stop Lea from casually walking over to her, extending his hand in hopes of an earnest handshake.

“Pleasure to meet'cha!” Lea grinned. It didn't change Sabrina's outlook on him in the slightest. “Your name is Sabrina, yeah? You wouldn't happen to be the same Sabrina that used to work at the police station with Sora, are you? The one that was fraternizing with another cop. Ventus, I think?”

Sabrina's face immediately paled. Without meaning to, she grumbled under her breath, “Shit.”

“So you are her!” Lea gleefully marveled. “Sora's got a lotta respect for you. Makes Kairi jealous sometimes, you know?”

Sabrina just gave him a stiff nod- unsure if she was going to kill Kairi first when she next saw her, or Sora. Maybe both. Both sounded incredibly tempting at the moment. Then she could steal their kid as a peace offering to Ventus. It would be the perfect revenge.

“How do you know Kairi and Sora?” she asked instead through clenched teeth. She did accept his handshake, although her grip was a bit too hard. Oh well, she had to assert dominance over this moron somehow.

“I'm Kairi's brother if you'd believe it.” Lea snorted. He pulled his hand away with a little shake, but didn't say anything about it. “We don't get to meet up as often as we'd like, but when we do…! Phew, her man really knows how to tell a story.”

“Sora does have a chronic 'won't shut up' problem.” Sabrina agreed with a sneer. She folded her arms in front of her chest in defiance.

“Now, I wouldn't put it like that,” Lea laughed, placing a hand behind his neck. “But he is animated. Hopefully having kids won't knock that out of him too much.”

“Here's hoping.”

From there, a dead silence fell between the two of them. Sabrina casting daggers at Lea from her eyes, while Lea likewise felt a bit out of place. There were few people who made him feel small. Kairi when she was peeved was one of them. This girl, Sabrina, was starting to become another.

“Well, I, uh, should let you girls get back to your lesson.” Lea stammered, hoping to get out of the room as fast as possible now. “It was a pleasure to meet you guys. Roxanne. Sabrina.”

Roxanne gave a happy wave as Lea left, Sabrina just continued to give him a hard glare. Once it was sure that he had left the building, Roxanne immediately turned to Sabrina to take her by the hands.

“You were a cop?!” the bubbly redhead asked. Sabrina’s whole body tensed as she tried to get out of her instructor’s grip.

“Roxanne, now isn’t the time…”

But Roxanne was too in wonder to do much else.

“Well it’s no wonder you got such refined upper body strength!” she went on. “You can’t really tell because you don’t show off a six pack or anything, but do you ever look at yourself in the mirror? How your abs just contract and expand in this beautiful way?”

“How does that even-?”

At this point, Sabrina might as well give up making Roxanne change the subject. She was going to have to excuse herself to leave early today if this kept up. Why did talking about the past feel so much more draining now? It’s not like it was anything she was -too- ashamed of. Were the memories draining because she worked to the point of exhaustion? Was it because of the people she spent time with? No, that couldn’t be right- would it?

Either way, Sabrina was sure of something;

If she saw Lea again, it would be far too soon.

. . .

Sabrina looked at Roxanne like the dance instructor just told her Ventus had recently punted a puppy.

“Don’t worry,” she tried to tell the unamused dancer, “You’ll still be able to do your single routine at the recital. But I think it would be good if you tried a pas de deux as well.”

“With who, Roxanne? Because I don't know anyone else in this studio, and I sure as hell am not just going to start shaking hands with the first guy that walks in.”

Roxanne very quickly twirled her strand of hair in excitement. “Oh, but I think you already know who this is. He’s been a super quick learner for our first session. You and him can come up with a routine for the recital in a snap.”

Sabrina just continued to stare. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Just trust me.” Roxanne told her, even putting a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll be here on Thursday. I’m going to get you two started as soon as possible.”

Sabrina emitted a low growl of displeasure. Even when she had freedom, she was still trapped. But she was patient… to a degree. She decided to humor Roxanne and waited dutifully for her new dance partner. The odd feeling that the certain someone was blonde kept nagging at her. When the door to the studio room opened, she had to physically keep herself from strangling the six foot, fire red haired mutant that actually did come through the door. He even acted all surprised and thrilled to be with her- that fool.

“Hey Sabrina!” he cheerfully greeted. “Roxanne was telling me that you're looking for a dance partner.”

“I am not.” came the prudent reply. She even folded her arms in displeasure as he walked further forward.

“Ah, too bad.” he teased. He boastfully pointed to himself before adding, “Because you got one right here!”

“Behind the beanpole in front of me, or are they somewhere else in the building? It would be rude to not tell them they aren't wanted to their face.”

“Ha, ha.” Lea retorted in a dry tone. “Look, Roxanne’s kinda already gave me the spiel that you’re not that trusting toward others. I ain’t gonna knock that outta ya because it’s your business. But you’re a good dancer. You put a lot of heart into what you do. Now, I may not be the best, but I want to work with you.”

Sabrina held herself tighter. “Why?” she sharply questioned. “What do you have to gain from it?”

“Do I have to have anything to gain from it?” Lea wondered right back, his hand sheepishly reaching behind his neck. “Maybe I’d just like to dance with a talented partner? Do I hafta go through a whole interview process?”

She wasn’t going to lie, it sounded incredibly tempting. But this wasn’t the police station. This wasn’t even her trying to find some good trait in a super lousy county treasurer with delusions of grandeur. She didn't know Lea well enough to know what he'd do at all. Not knowing if she couldn't trust someone was like being vulnerable; she couldn't allow it, and she wanted it even less. However, she likely wouldn't even be in this spot if she didn't open up more. She flinched, not for the first time today thinking of someone else. If she could have just stopped being an abusive monster and just talked to him like he wanted…

“Fine.” she finally grumbled. Her fingers digging into her arms as she looked back up at Lea. “But only until this next recital. After that, I don't want anything to do with you.”

“Alright, geez.” Lea retorted, unsure if he should be grateful or even more wary. “Dancing with one guy isn't going to change your whole outlook on life, kid.”

Sabrina recoiled a bit. Lea didn't know it, but that was exactly what she wanted to do.

#writing #writing stuff #writers on tumblr #kh fanfiction #kingdom hearts fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #kh fan fic #fan fic #fan fiction

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jejciu · 4 years

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i wish u branched out more in ur art ... :'( its so sweet and soft and still can be so rich and dark theres so much potential ughh u never miss ........and gawd i know its never gonna happen but! whatever midground is id love to see snippets of the story expressed in drawings and such ah! anyhow have a great day or night, ur drawings and Especially watercolors never cease to be a source of inspiration and ily pls remember that im always here refrshing ur blog in excitment :3

idk what is this ask im drunk and sappy and felt a need to write it

ugh yeah sadly im aware my art isn't really diverse.... that's mostly bc I really really suck at most stuff outside basic bust portraits. but also it hurts when some people just assume I share everything i draw, that I never look up references or tutorials and never even try to experiment or go for something more ambitious.... the truth is, i practice a lot, I just really hate how most of those drawings turn out (God, just yesterday I was drawing for the entire afternoon, i wasted so much paper and still have nothing to post......). when I go for full body drawings, my artstyle seems to have gone m.i.a. and it just looks as if I traced another drawing, and when drawing dynamic poses everything still feels either terribly stiff or unrealistically bended in uncomfortable ways, it really sucks. I wish i could draw scenes from midground! maybe short comics, even! i really do. I wish I could give more to people who happen to think my artstyle is pleasant or are somewhat interested in my ocs. its all really disappointing, even tho I know I don't really owe anyone artistic growth, that even if i literally never did anything besides front-facing mercies, I wouldn't have to change for anyone, as long as it would bring me joy. But I do wanna evolve and get better as an artist..... and god, I feel like the more I try, the more inferior I feel to all the real artists who post a detailed realistic and fully rendered portrait with a caption of "Just a simple warmup sketch" and like, get 15k notes and their commissions cost like 200 dollars. like I'm so far fucking away from that it's unreal.

Anyway thanks for the kind words, I'm happy my drawings bring u joy and since I've done a lot of illustrations to midground in the past (back when I thought I'd draw one illustration per chapter and put it in the pdf of the story lmao... Or drawing covers for each book and all that) maybe I could try to redraw some of them as practice.... I don't know. But still, thank u, it's really sweet of u to say all that, I really appreciate it! Messages like that make me feel like its all worth the work, if I can inspire even one person. Thanks again, I hope alcohol went easy on u and u didn't have to wake up hangover this morning.

#maurycy talks #Long post #I guess idk

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nickelkeep · 5 years

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Twas the Night

Pairing: Dean/Cas - Timestamp to Like the Angel Rating: Teen, to be on the safe side. Word Count: 3500 Warnings: Tooth. Rotting. Fluff. Written For: @notfunnydean‘s 2019 SPN Advent Calendar Day 11 - Christmas Story On Ao3

Quick Side Note - I’ve been sick, which is why you haven’t seen one of these in a while. I missed days 12 through 15, which I have made reference to in the fic. There’s a better explanation if you follow the Ao3 Link. 😘

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“Daddy?”

Dean shook his head as Emma called him from down the hallway. Sixteen years old, and she knew that she could get just about anything she wanted by singsonging ‘daddy’ instead of just calling him Dad. “What’s up, Em?”

��It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean got up from his bed and walked down the hallway to Emma’s room and leaned against her doorframe. “You gonna tell me something I don’t know, Kiddo?”

“We need to get started!” Emma was sitting on her floor with her back to the door. “It’s Cas’ first Christmas with us, and I want to make sure he enjoys it.”

Dean smiled. “Whatcha got there?”

“It’s uh, it’s a part of his Christmas present.” Emma looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“You’re not going to tell me what it is?” Dean stepped closer to look over Emma and see what she was making or doing. “You know I can keep a secret, Em.”

Emma blushed bright red. “I was gonna, you know, that thing we talked about a week ago.”

“Say no more, Kiddo.” Dean squatted down next to Emma and pulled her into a hug. “Cas is gonna love it.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad one of us is sure of it.”

Dean stood back up and rested his hands on his lower back. “You gonna come help me make breakfast?”

“Cinnamon Rolls? Or are you going to try that new recipe you found?” Emma gathered the items that had been spread out on the floor around her and stacked them neatly in a pile before standing up. “I’m okay with trying something new for breakfast.”

“Is this that new tradition thing you’ve been pushing?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and smiled fondly at his daughter. “I love how much you want to make sure Cas is included.” He started backing up towards the door. “Come help me make the Honey Bread?”

Emma returned the smile and followed down to the kitchen.

---

Cas made it downstairs to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something baked or baking in the oven. Emma was sitting at the kitchen island drawing while Dean was standing over the stove dancing and singing along to some Christmas song. “You still working on that drawing, Em?

Emma looked up and shook her head. “Nope, these are just some warmup sketches. Wanna see?”

“Of course.” Cas stopped and gave Dean a kiss before sitting on the stool next to Emma’s. “Looks like you’re in the Christmas spirit.” Cas pointed to one of the figures. “Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Be?”

“Yep! I really liked Mr. Roche’s lesson on A Christmas Carol.” Emma smiled. “Did you check to see if I get to be in your class next semester, Cas?”

“Which one?”

Emma shot one of her Uncle Sam’s bitchfaces at Cas. “Really, Cas?”

“Yes, you are in my Mythology in Modern Literature class.” Cas chuckled. “But, remember, Ms. Milton wasn’t really sure that with your dad and I dating that it would be a good idea. We gotta prove that this will work.” Dean set a mug of coffee in front of Cas, and Cas immediately picked it up to drink. “I know that we’ll be fine, but we have to make sure I’m not showing favoritism.”

“I didn’t slack last year.” Emma pouted.

Cas tucked a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. “Which is why Ms. Milton said it was okay for you to be in the class and for me to teach it.”

“Coming in!” Dean placed a plate in front of Cas and waited as Emma moved her drawing stuff before setting hers breakfast down. “Sorry to interrupt serious school talk.”

“Dean, you told me you guys do cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning.” Cas tilted his head. “What’s this?”

“Em and I found the recipe online and thought it might be something you would like.” Dean set some sort of spread on the table. “It’s a honey bread, with cinnamon sugar butter. And of course, bacon, because God forbid I don’t ever make you two bacon.”

Dean’s quip earned a chuckle from both Emma and Cas. Cas watched as Dean finished putting together his own plate and sat down with them before taking a bite of the bread. “Wow,” Cas replied with food in his mouth, causing Dean to roll his eyes. Cas swallowed his food before speaking again. “I’m serious, this is really good.” He reached for the butter and started spreading it on.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Cas.” Dean popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“I am.” Cas took a bite of the bread with the butter and moaned happily. “So good.”

“Cas, you’d think you never had food before.” Emma snarked.

“I’m always a sucker for new foods that are delicious.” Cas winked at her. “So, you two haven’t told me what you all do on Christmas Eve, besides breakfast, of course.”

Emma looked at Dean, who nodded in approval. “Well, after breakfast, we usually go and get any last-minute gifts and pick up anything that Gramma Ellen might need for dinner.”

“Ma feeds us at the Roadhouse,” Dean elaborated, “She won’t know for certain what she needs for dinner tonight until she does a quick inventory check after closing. She’ll probably be calling in the next…” Dean looked at the clock on the microwave. “Ten to fifteen minutes.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” Cas propped his chin on his hand. “So should we get dressed?”

Dean shrugged. “Not to sound apathetic, but while it sounds like a day of adventure, we’re still kinda lazy. Usually, Ma calls, then we get dressed. But, if you’re raring to go.”

“Sorry, just looking to spending this Christmas with my…” Cas looked back and forth between Dean and Emma. “With my family.”

“Well, Cas. We want to celebrate it with you too.” Dean stood up and grabbed the empty plates, taking them over to the sink and rinsing them off.

“We want to know your traditions too. We don’t want to force you into a mold. We’ve grown as a family, so we have room to take in and make new traditions.” Emma took Cas’ mug and took a drink from it. “You really need coffee with your cream, Cas.”

Cas laughed and ruffled Emma’s hair. “Let’s go get dressed then, and your dad can follow suit. I’ll show you two what I do on Christmas Eve.”

“Do we need to get fancy-dressed?” Emma raised her eyebrow.

“No, Emma, jeans are fine.” Emma did a little happy dance and headed off to her room. Cas looked at Dean. “‘Fancy-dressed’ is your phrase, isn’t it?”

“What can I say, Angel? Emma and I are simple creatures.” Dean closed the dishwasher and started it before crossing over to Cas. He pressed his lips against Cas’ temple, leaving a soft kiss. “Let’s go get changed.”

---

As Dean had promised, Ellen called with a list of groceries for their dinner. After stopping to pick up their last-minute Christmas Gifts, Dean, Cas, and Emma stopped by the grocery store to grab the items for dinner. They swung by the Roadhouse and dropped them off, asking if there’s anything they could do to help with dinner. Ellen playfully swatted at Dean with a towel and promised that Jo and Charlie already claimed the elf honors for the year.

After joking about food poisoning - “Did they forget that Charlie could burn water?” Dean complained in jest - Cas took Dean’s phone and plugged in an address in the maps app.

The location Dean pulled the Impala in front of turned out to be a homeless shelter. “What’s all this, Cas?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Cas explained, but he continued when Emma leaned over the front seat. “I haven’t told you much about when I was in college, Emma. But I didn’t go for what my parents wanted me to go for. It was bad enough that I was gay, but to completely misuse their gift of college was the last straw. I was just short of disowned. So, my first year after I graduated college, I was completely alone on Christmas Eve.” Cas paused and ran his fingers through Emma’s hair. “It’s okay. I’m okay, as you can see now. But then, I was a new teacher, I didn’t know anyone well enough, and I had nowhere to go.

“Instead of moping around my empty apartment watching TV by myself with just Chinese food to keep me company, I pulled out my laptop. I found the closest LGBT friendly shelter.” He gestured to the building they were parked next to. “I called and asked if they did any kind of dinner, and the rest is history. I felt loved, I felt safe, and I felt good giving to people who didn’t have even the little bit I had. So, every Christmas Eve I come here. To thank them for taking me and accepting me when my own family wouldn’t. Some years I even join in for Christmas, even though they don’t necessarily need me on that day.” Cas turned to face Dean. “Remember, you asked where I sometimes go when I don’t come home right away?” Dean nodded. “It’s here.”

Cas patted the back of the seat and smiled. “Let’s get you two inside and introduce you both to the people who run the shelter and those in charge of the kitchen.”

“That sounds great, Cas.” Dean beamed at him.

Once inside, Cas was greeted by several members of the staff with whom he was familiar. They were excited to meet Dean and Emma. They had heard so much about them over the past several months. Cas had bragged about Dean’s skills in the kitchen, and he was quickly got roped into helping cook. Cas took his usual spot on the serving line. Emma was a little too young to help with the food– “I just turned sixteen!” She complained. –but they asked her to play with the younger kids and watch over them.

They stuck around for as long as they could. Dean had to literally pull Emma away from the younger kids, and Cas bribed her with the promise they would come back sooner than next Christmas. She spent the entire drive to the Roadhouse recounting her stories of playing with the kids, bringing smiles to Dean’s and Cas’ face.

Once they pulled into a spot, Emma practically leaped out of the car and ran inside. Dean and Cas took a moment to look at each other and revel in her enthusiasm before getting out themselves and grabbing presents out of the back of the car.

“You think she would have helped us.” Dean smiled at Cas, kissing him on the corner of his mouth before heading inside. “Oh, by the way. Ma has probably hung up at least a dozen sprigs of mistletoe.”

Cas laughed and looked up. “Looks like we hit the first one.” He leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek.

---

After dinner and introducing Cas to their Christmas Eve Present tradition, Dean excused the three of them from the drinking games portion of the evening. There was no argument from any member of his family, which Dean was grateful for. He walked behind Cas and Emma, watching as Cas wrapped his arm around Emma and hugged her tightly. Warmth flowed through him, and he silently kicked himself for not having his phone out to snap a photo.

Emma curled up with a new blanket that Charlie made her, while Cas admired a first edition copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that Sam gave him. Dean snuck glances at them both on the ride home, excited for what was next.

As he pulled into the driveway, Dean looked at Emma. “You wanna tell Cas about our last tradition, Kiddo?”

“Cas, do you know The Tailor of Gloucester?” Emma yawned and slid out of the backseat before Cas could answer.

“I do,” Cas replied, getting out of the car right behind Emma. “Beatrix Potter. It’s a Christmas story of hers. Why?”

“Dad tucks me in and reads it to me.” Emma blushed. “I know I’m probably too old for that now.”

Cas pulled Emma into another hug. “You’re never too old to enjoy having someone read to you. Your dad bugs me to read to him occasionally.”

“Will you read it tonight?” Emma asked.

“But, you just said it’s you and your dad’s thing.” Cas looked at Dean with a look that Dean was pretty sure equated to asking for help.

“It’s fine, Cas. I already knew Em was going to ask.” Dean winked and walked to the front door. “Let’s get inside, so we don’t freeze, and then we can all curl up in Emma’s bed and enjoy the story.”

The suggestion appeared to calm Cas down, and the trio entered the house to warm up. Emma ran ahead upstairs, while Cas and Dean took their time climbing the stairs.

“Dean, I don’t want to step on your toes,” Cas commented, concern still in his voice.

They entered their room, and Dean cupped Cas’ face in his hands. “I promise that you’re not. Do it this year, and next year we can do it together, or we can take turns to who does it.” Dean ran his thumb over Cas’ cheek before crossing to their dresser. He grabbed a pair of Cas’ pajama pants and tossed them to him. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

Cas and Dean finished changing and walked down to Emma’s room. She had left the door open for them to come in.

“Hop under the blanket, Kiddo.” Dean pointed at the bed, and Emma obliged him, quickly scrambling to climb under the covers. She grabbed the book off of her nightstand and waited until Cas was sitting next to her.

“Last call, Emma. Are you sure you want me to read it?” Cas hesitated as he took the book and opened the cover.

“Yes, Cas, I’m sure. I’m positive. I’m 16, not six.” She stuck her tongue out at Cas and was bopped on the nose playfully.

“I hear you. Just…” Cas took a deep breath and relaxed, leaning back against her headboard. “Thank you, Emma.” He shot a warm look at Dean, which Dean responded to with a hair ruffle. “‘In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets—when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta—there lived a tailor in Gloucester…’”

As the story continued, Dean would occasionally poke Emma to keep her awake, knowing how she was prone to fall asleep when being read to. He smiled as he watched Cas animate the story with his body and his voice. Even Dean could admit to finding a new love for the story, with Cas reading it in his own way.

“‘He made the most wonderful waistcoats for all the rich merchants of Gloucester, and for all the fine gentlemen of the country round.

“‘Never were seen such ruffles, or such embroidered cuffs and lappets! But his button-holes were the greatest triumph of it all.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so neat—so neat—I wonder how they could be stitched by an old man in spectacles, with crooked old fingers, and a tailor’s thimble.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so small—so small—they looked as if they had been made by little mice!”

Cas turned the page to get to “The End,” but found in its place a sticky note. “What’s this, Emma?” He pulled it off and read it. “‘Ask Emma for your card.’ What card would that be?”

Emma reached under her pillow and pulled out a card. “Merry Christmas, Cas.” She handed it to him and smiled, cuddling up against Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

“Thank you?” Cas tilted his head and opened the envelope. “Oh, good, no glitter.”

“Glitter is the herpes of the craft world, Cas.” Emma laughed.

“Is that your Dad or your Aunt Charlie?” Cas pulled out the card. On the front was a stylized picture of two dads and a daughter. “‘Your art only gets better and better, Emma.” He opened the card and started reading it to himself. Cas smiled until he got to a particular spot and froze. He looked back and forth between Emma and Dean, tears building up in his eyes. “Emma?”

Dean had pulled out his phone and set it to record. “What’s it say, Cas?”

“You knew.” Cas pointed at Dean and sniffled, fighting to hold back his tears. “Dear Cas. I want to thank you for so many things. First, for being my teacher. You have taught me so much, and not just from the books you share. I’ve learned about caring and compassion.” Cas smiled at Emma, “Your dad has taught you a lot of that too.”

“Hush, Cas, keep reading.” Dean smiled.

“Thank you for making Dad happy and becoming apart of our family. While we were content, you brought a new kind of happiness to our lives.” Cas reached forward and tucked Emma’s hair behind her ear. “You two have brought such joy to my life.”

Emma leaned into Cas’ touch, smiling.

“Since I’m running out of the room on this card, let me thank you for being my other Dad. I never knew I was missing a second parent until you became mine.” Cas sobbed softly. “Merry Christmas, Papa. I love you, Em.” Cas pulled Emma into his arms. “I love you too, Emma.”

“If you don’t like Papa, we can pick something else.” Emma looked up. “Or I can keep calling you Cas.”

Cas wiped away a tear from Dean’s face, and then one from Emma’s. “Emma, I am proud to be your Papa. Thank you for letting me.”

Emma surged forward and wrapped her arms around Cas’ neck. “Love you, Papa.” Dean wrapped his arms around both of them, causing Emma to giggle. “You know I love you, Dad.”

“Of course I do, Kiddo. I just needed to hug my two favorite people.” Dean planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Time for bed, though.” Dean stood up and walked to the other side of Emma’s bed and offered his hand to Cas, helping him to his feet. “If you don’t go to sleep, Santa won’t come.”

“Really, Dad?”

“Yep. No presents for daughters who remind their Dads of their age, either.” Dean pointed at Emma, winking as Cas dragged him out of the room. Dean quietly closed the door behind them and turned to smile at his partner. He gently cupped Cas’ cheek and rested their foreheads together. “Can I give you your present now?”

Cas smirked as they walked to their room. “Did you get me the nutcracker I asked for?”

“You were serious about that?” Dean laughed, entering their room, and heading to the closet. “I thought you were just a Grinch when I asked what you wanted.”

“I was a little facetious.” Dean handed Cas a few presents as he continued. “Remember what I said at the shelter earlier?”

“Of course, Angel.” Dean loaded up his own arms and gestured to the door. “I knew about your family, that was one of the first things I learned about you. I want to give you the holiday that you haven’t been able to experience in years.”

Cas led the way downstairs to the Christmas Tree. “You’ve already done so much, Dean. You and Emma both. I haven’t had a Christmas this memorable since my first one after graduating college.” He set the boxes down and turned to look at Dean. “I love that you want to do this for me, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean set the presents under the tree and took the ones out of Cas’ arms. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I did, I asked if you got me a nutcracker.” Cas crossed his arms. “None of those boxes look like they could be a nutcracker.”

“Cas.” Dean rotated toward Cas while dropping to one knee. He pulled a box out of his pocket. “I know this is probably a little soon, but when you know something is right, you shouldn’t let it go.”

Dean watched as Cas’ face twisted in confusion before brightening in understanding. “Dean, is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean swallowed and nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he cracked the box open. “Emma said it best: We were happy, but you brought us something we didn’t know we were missing.” Dean paused and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Marry me, Cas?”

Cas broke out into a brilliant smile and reached to the Christmas tree, pulling off an ornament. “I lied about this one.” Cas fell to one knee in front of Dean, putting them at the same level. “I’ll marry you on one condition.” He twisted the ornament and took the top off, revealing his own ring. “You say yes, also.”

“Hell, yes.” Dean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Cas’ - his fiance’s - neck, and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

#spnadventcalendar2019 #profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #writersofdestiel #deancas #destiel #timestamp #domestic fluff #christmas fluff #marriage proposal #nickel writes

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lukah5312040 · 4 years

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Week 5 Sketching

Week 5 was all about sketching to create an illusion of three dimensions through the addition of outline, contour and shade. I found this very cool to learn as you could literally bring one circle to look like a full sphere with 3 simple ellipses. Beginning with some quick warmup sketches, we used our shoulders to practice line work and shade ability. We then moved to photoshop, where we created our own design concepts of the Olay shampoo bottle.

Going into this activity, I first thought it would be difficult. I was confused at how simple the tasks were until I discovered it was a warmup. But it was very interesting how such a simple warmup can produce work that seems so difficult and complex. I really enjoyed using my shoulder to draw instead of my wrist, it allowed me to draw straighter lines and smoother curves on the potatoes. The different shades and their tones was also a very interesting way to imagine this 2 dimensional shape in a real world environment. I did however struggle to form figure how to curve my lines when drawing the potatoes, some turned out really well maybe my chance, while others just seemed a bit off.

The photoshop activity was definitely much more difficult than I anticipated. I’ve used photoshop before in other activities, but the use of paths is something i was very new to. Something was always going wrong at every new step which Rob began, and i had to test and trial many techniques. I don’t know what I would’ve if this session wasn’t recorded or the undo and redo commands never existed. Although I was getting extremely frustrated watching back the tutorial and doing exactly what Rob did, and still something went wrong, eventually was able to grasp the concepts of paths and produced 4 concepts that was able to recreate the sketch aesthetic and successfully lift this 2 dimensional image off the screen with the use of contour, lines and shadows. During the activity, i found made a mistake with making smooth ellipses on my bottle, as i continued shading I didn’t like how it was turning out, so i attempted to undo as much as I could but was stuck at this position, hence why the last bottle still has a white square around it. The second image is the original concept i was going for, but i was able to somewhat fix it to what it is now. Overall, I had a serious love hate relationship with this activity, although I had so many issues where shading wouldn’t occur or layers were moving when they weren’t suppose to, the final outcome was very satisfying and have certainly gained new insight into my own style of curvilinear shapes and being able to make them really come of the page in a quick manner.

#ides1262 2020 week 5

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thatishogwash · 5 years

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Not a Surprise

KuroDai Mid-Birthday Week 2019 December 9th, Day 1: Magical Realism/Tattoo Artist & Florist AU

AO3

Kuroo pauses outside the the tattoo parlors doors, looking surprised as he takes notices of the shop next door. It had been under construction for months now, a huge disturbance to everyone who worked at the tattoo shop, but it looks complete now. There are two huge barrels full of overflowing flowers, soft hued pastels that contrast nicely with the light blue the new owner of the shop had painted the building. There’s several hanging planters, greenery flowing almost artistically down. The only thing that seems off is the hand painted open sign but even that is charming in a ‘my third grader did this’ kind of way.

The sight makes the corner of Kuroo’s lips tip upwards despite the constant noise and ruckus the constructors workers had caused for months on end. Kuroo thought he was going to have to start using earbuds just so his concentration wouldn’t be shot while tattooing.

Kuroo takes a step into the parlor and is met with a second surprise that morning. There is a number of vases filled to the brim with brightly colored flowers. They are all different, unique in their own way and despite the scribbled Open sign there is also a clear artistry to who ever had made them. They should clash with each other or not look right in the modern and minimalist design the parlor sports but instead they fit right in, bringing just the right amount of color and warmth into the front room.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Misaki says, big smile planted on her face as she touches the purple and white bundle that sits on her desk. “The new owner from next door brought them over this morning as an apology for all the noise.” Misaki is probably the most tattooed out of all of them. She has full sleeves, a huge chest piece, her entire back is covered, and she has a circle of tattoos going around her neck. The only place she hasn’t tattooed is her left thigh, where her soulmate mark stretches from her outer midthigh up to her waist. Kuroo tilts his head as he realizes that the bouquet on her desk matches her mark perfectly.

“He was very apologetic.” Akaashi speaks up, tone soft as his eyes catch on his own bouquet before quickly looking away. Kuroo can feel his smirk widening as he catches sight of the pink spreading on Akaashi’s cheeks. The other tattoo artist had been the most annoyed by the disturbance nextdoor, though he would never admit to it, far too polite to do so. About a month into construction there had been a rather loud bang then cursing. The tattoo parlor shared a wall with the new florist next door, and Akaashi had the unfortunate luck to have his desk right against that wall. Akaashi had been so frustrated he had snapped his pencil in half, stood up abruptly, gathered his items, and excused himself. He had found solace in the small coffee shop down the road.

Actually Kuroo and the others thought he found much more than a good place to work given that he was now always wearing long sleeved shirts to hide his previously unbloomed soulmark. Kuroo, Misaki, and Matsukawa had all gone to the coffee shop to try and figure out who exactly Akaashi had met there. They had figured out it had to be an employee, given how Akaashi had made it a daily ritual to go down there for lunch, but they couldn’t figure out which employee.

Kuroo had his money on Bokuto though Misaki and Matsukawa called him out for personal bias. Kita, who claimed he was uninvolved in their spying, said it couldn’t be Bokuto considering Akaashi had already known the outgoing barista and while they were friends, had never shown romantic interest in each other. Kuroo still hoped it was Bokuto.

Misaki thought it was the new barista, Yachi. She was tiny and adorable, but mostly it was because while she seemed a nervous mess with everyone else she relaxed around Akaashi. Kuroo could even admit they would make an adorable couple.

Matsukawa thought it was Iwaizumi. While he wasn’t new he had mostly worked the night shifts and had recently switched to the day shifts. Kuroo was insulted no one called bias on Matsukawa considering he had known the burly baker since high school.

“He was very handsome too.” Misaki said, trying to hide her grin and failing miserably at it. Kuroo drops his bag on his own desk, taking note of the fiery reds and oranges that make up his own set of flowers. He wants to bend down and take a deep breath but will have to wait until no one is around to witness and then make fun of him for it.

“Are you meddling in my affairs again?” Kuroo asks without venom, moving the flowers to the other side of his desk and taking a seat. The problem with being now one of the only single people in a business full of those who had already found their soulmates meant people were constantly trying to help him.

Kuroo did not need nor want help finding his soulmate. He was of the mindset that if he never met them then that would be fine too. He had made an entire career out of reasons why finding “the one” didn’t always turn out in a happily ever after.

Like most artists, Kuroo had a speciality. He did other work every once and a while but mostly he was kept quite busy with doing coverups. Cover Ups involving soulmate marks specifically speaking. There were a lot of reasons to get a mark covered up. Sometimes people did not want their life dictated by a magical phenomenon that was practically unexplainable even in their modern age. If a soulmate died then their mark died with them, leaving the mark looking faded, dull, and tarnished. Rejection also came into play, twisting the mark into something akin to a rotted looking scar.

Kuroo’s own mark started practically at his left knee, up the length of his outer thigh, spreading out over his side and ribs, curving around his chest and up his shoulder, peeking out onto his neck and almost covering his entire left bicep. The blooms were tightly closed and while he never shied away from telling others about his disinterest in soulmarks he left that area of his body free of tattoos. He told himself it was because he was picky about what he put on his body but considering the amount of times he had let others tattoo on him for practice when he was younger he knew he was full of it.

“You should go over and introduce yourself, it’s the neighborly thing to do.” Misaki said hopefully.

“I’ll pass.” Kuroo pulls out his sketchbook and tablet. He has a lot of work to catch up on now that things are back to being quiet. Misaki pouts but she lets it go, which Kuroo is thankful for.

Kuroo uses the flowers on his desk as a warmup for his sketches. It’s only logical, a lot of his art contains flowers so why not use the ones right in front of him.

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

A month later Kuroo found himself stepping into the flower shop for the first time. It was bustling as always, even more overflowing with flowers and plants crowding every inch of available space. Kuroo found himself having to duck and shift constantly to avoid knocking anything over. He kind of enjoyed the chaos even though he couldn’t imagine working in such a place day after day. Nothing seemed organized, not by any standard he could tell and the aisles were set up haphazardly as if the plants came first and the people were only a minor thought.

There’s only one employee that Kuroo can see, a guy with brown buzzed hair who is shorter than Kuroo but even from a distance Kuroo can see he’s built well enough. The warm smile and pastel pink shirt he wears underneath the gray apron give him a friendly appearance as he chats amiably with the people he is ringing up. He doesn’t look anxious and pressured despite the queue.

“Hello! Sorry for the wait, how can I help you?” Kuroo turns towards the loud voice, as do several people in the store. There is another employee, only noticeable because of the gray apron with the store logo on it, this one is quite short with ridiculously spiky hair and some of the biggest eyes Kuroo has ever seen. The employee isn’t talking to Kuroo but a confused looking young teenager so Kuroo continues about his business, making his way steadily and slowly towards the back of the shop.

“Moniwa,” Kuroo startles at the low baritone, turning to see someone leaning out a door with an Employees Only sign on it. He’s also wearing a gray apron, though he would tower over both of the other employees. A short man with curly black hair leans closer, nervously fidgeting with his bag. “Would you like to see the orchids?”

“Oh! Hello Ushijima! Shouldn’t you help with the crowd?” The man, Moniwa Kuroo can only guess, asks. The taller man with some of the widest shoulders Kuroo has ever seen and clear green eyes looks around the shop before his eyes land back on Moniwa. Kuroo pretends to look at some small blue flowers as he eavesdrops.

“Hoshiumi and Nakashima have it under control.” Ushijima says in a voice devoid of emotion, as far as Kuroo can tell anyways. “Sawamura told me to let them handle it and he should be back soon.” Kuroo could understand not wanting the giant to interact and scare away customers. But just when he was thinking the large man was akin to a robot his eyes softened and his voice, if possible, lowered. “Do you not want to see the orchids?”

“No no, please I would love to.” Moniwa said, flushing adorably. Kuroo ducked his head to hide his grin, not that he needed to since the two were clearly in their own world.

Kuroo wandered around the store, enjoying his time to people watch. The two workers flitted from customer to customer, bright and welcoming in their own ways. Neither seemed to lose any patience no matter how long a customer hummed with indecision, carefully making suggestions until a mutual understanding was met and everyone walked away happy.

Kuroo was so busy watching these interactions that he ran right into someone. Kuroo would never be called a small man, though he was more on the lanky side, but he stumbled back a couple steps before regaining his footing while the other person barely swayed.

“I’m sorry.” A deep voice apologized from behind the heavy bag of dirt they were carrying over a broad shoulder. He put it down, nudging the bag beneath an overflowing table. “I should have been paying more attention to where I was going, are you okay?” Big brown eyes stared at him from beneath the bill of a baseball cap.

“It’s okay, my fault.” Kuroo said easily. The man in front of him wasn’t wearing the same apron as the other workers but he had a sweatshirt the same soft gray with the company's logo on the front.

“Have you been helped yet?” The man asked, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt up to reveal nicely toned and tanned forearms. Kuroo told himself his spike of interest in that newly revealed stretch of skin was purely professional, he could make some beautiful art with that man.

On that man. Kuroo could make beautiful art on that man.

“It’s my mothers birthday, I thought she might enjoy some flowers.” Kuroo forced himself to meet those soft brown eyes and not stare at anything else. Due to the cramped and crowded shop they had to stand quite close and from that distance it was obvious the handful of centimeters Kuroo held over the other man, who had to crane his neck up to look Kuroo in the eye. It was adorable and Kuroo knew he was in trouble.

“Any specific colors?” The man asked.

“Yellow?” Kuroo scratched at his neck as glanced around the shop, noticed that both of the employees were staring at them before hurriedly going back to their jobs when they were caught. “Are their cat friendly flowers? I know a lot are poisonous and my mom has three.”

“That will help narrow it down.” The shorter man hummed before he started to make his way through the store, grabbing flowers at seemingly random. Kuroo watched him gather a couple different yellow ones but he pulled in some light blues and purples too.

“I’m Kurro.” Kuroo introduced himself as he followed behind the man, who shot a grin over his shoulder, revealing a single dimple in his cheek that made Kuroo walk directly into a table.

“So you’re the other tattoo artist I missed.” He was looked up and down before he turned back around to continue gathering flowers. “Your friend, Misaki, she described you to a tee.” Kuroo cringed at that and patted down his hair. Misaki never had anything nice to say about his hair.

“So you must be the owner?” Kuroo thought of the name of the new flower shop. “Sa’mura was it?” He recieved a glare for that and felt something twist pleasantly in his stomach. “You were causing quite a ruckus, disturbed the peace for months.”

“Ruckus?” Sawamura snorted. “What are you, 70?” Kuroo sputtered at that.

“It’s a perfectly good word!” Kuroo defended, wondering when the teasing had been turned back on him and why exactly he liked that so much.

“Okay Grandpa.” The dimple was back. Kuroo did not walk into a table but he did get nailed in the head with a hanging pot. “Watch it.”

“I’m sorry I’m not from the lollypop guild and able to navigate this place like you.” Kuroo rubbed his temple, wondering if it would bruise.

“I’m above average height.” Sawamura angrily snatched up another yellow flower.

“For a 12 year old girl, sure.” Kuroo teased.

“You know what, I think the backroom needs a little work.” Sawamura stepped behind the counter, the shorter employee with the buzz cut stepped back with his hands held up in surrender. “Shouldn’t be too long, maybe a month or twelve. Construction won’t disturb your work too much, will it?” He tore off a long piece of brown paper.

“Speaking of that, you kind of owe me.” Kuroo couldn’t see Sawamura’s eyebrows due to the baseball cap but he was sure they were raised. “A lot of my work involves flowers, you should let me come in and sketch to make up for all the ruckus.” Kuroo leaned against the counter and gave his best smirk, the one that made Akaashi’s lip curl up in disgust.

“Oh should I? Really? Because I’ve been losing sleep over the fact that starting my own business might have inconvenienced you for a little bit of time.” Sawamura put the now wrapped flowers on the counter before storming off. Kuroo made a pleased noise as he took them, they were artfully arranged and the paper wrapping with the twine gave it a finished look.

“How much do I owe you?” Kuroo asked, glancing at the two bug eyed employees and then to the retreating back of their boss.

“It’s on the house!” Sawamura yelled, shoulders relaxed despite his tone.

“So when should I stop by for those sketches?” Kuroo couldn’t help but push his luck.

“Tomorrow at seven!” Sawamura stomped into the back room and Kuroo tapped the counter happily before making his way out of the store.

Kuroo’s mother loved the flowers and he was only partly surprised when she yanked on the neckline of his shirt, demanding answers about his partly bloomed soulmate mark.

#kurodaiweek #kurodaiweek2019 #kurodai #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #sawmaura daichi #my writing

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moldy-mold · 5 years

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Diary Post: My Thoughts and Processes on Making “Silent Strength” It’s lengthy, taking place over long period of time. Mainly written for my future-self to remember what I went through, but also for anyone who is curious. Now that the project is over, I can post without reservations. There are certain things I need to keep secret though, so if I’m vague I do so intentionally!

Basically, a lot of number-crunching, physical labor, and psychological labor.

It started off as kind of a joke tweet I made. I had enough content to make a Tales Of art book and people were receptive to it. So… I thought maybe I could go somewhere with this. A few weeks later, I suddenly had a lot of Kratos art. Like. 80% of all my Tales art was Kratos. It didn’t make sense to make a broad Tales Of book when really most of it was Kratos.

I hadn’t made a book since I was in college despite it being one of my favorite things to do. They were never art books, just some editorial design projects that totally didn’t count. This book… would be my first-ever art book.

Several times, I came close to having enough art to print a book - the last time was my large collection of Yusuke Kitagawa, but the quality wasn’t where I wanted. At that time, I was still experimenting with my iPad Pro and figuring out Procreate, so that was what I used him for.

NGL, I was pretty afraid of looking like a clown. After doing all this work, what if no one actually buys it? I was talking to some friends and they said they would buy it. It was enough for me. In the end, I’m creating something that I love. - The first thing I really wanted to work on was the cover. It needed to be epic but also mysterious (lol)… It was a good time to practice lighting and backgrounds. The cover had to be freaking Fantastic. I spent 3 days drawing nonstop. I was on vacation so I could spend full days just drawing. It was really intense. I would stop in the evenings to go for a run or else my legs would never get circulation again.

The hardest part was keeping it secret. I wanted to share it with the world right away bc I was so proud of it. Well, all I could do was show it to my parents and some close friends. They didn’t know who Kratos is, but it was obvious I was crazy about him.

Initially, I was doing some hand-lettering for the zine title instead of using a typeface. Tbh, I was so sure I was naming this zine “Blame Your Fate!” bc that is such an iconic line. But it just didn’t work with my cover, which looked… a little too serene for that. So… Silent Strength or Divine Strength? I asked around and got my answer.

But what size? All of my art has been on letter canvases. I wanted it to be large so you could see the details in the art. I’ll just start with that. - Luckily, I had all my Kratos-related art in one place. I started my InDesign file and threw everything in there just to see what it looked like. Man, I draw a lot of boxes… But I didn’t want them all next to each other. I also wanted to kinda organize it by the people Kratos hangs out with. There’s a Yuan section LOL… and a Lloyd section… and an Anna section. Idk, I tried to get some kind of order in there with a sprinkling of full spreads here and there to keep it fresh and interesting for the eyes.

I hadn’t worked with InDesign on such an intense level since college. I forgot all of the tips and tricks we learned in class. Spent some time reading on how to do things again… like adding page numbers. - I started drafting my pre-order form. It’s my first time making a google form like this. It’s kind of fun? I spent a long time on it, despite how simple it was. This was going to be my “Store” so it had to look and sound good. - My friend introduced me to charm-making. It seemed easy enough, and I wanted to give my zine more oomph. Besides, I’ve always wanted to make a charm.

I remember someone saying they’d buy a book of just the 4 Seraphim if it existed. I like them too and they lack art imo. In the end, I decided to do a polaroid charm. It’s not really that unique but I wanted Kratos to have actual friends to hang out with for once LOL.

She was going to do a group order to try to reduce the costs. I thought maybe 4 weeks would give me enough time. In the end she said I only have 2. I work well under pressure, so needless to say, I did make that deadline. I actually sketched the whole thing on the plane headed home. - After playing the game the second time, watching the OVA again, and reading “Offerings to a Star,” I have gained a real soft spot for Yuan. My friend once said, “If you weren’t stolen away by Kratos, you would be in love with Yuan.” Lol. I’ve been in a “Kratos and Yuan hanging out” mood lately, so of course I needed something good for the zine. They’re so cute together! Now… what is the bro-est thing I can draw?

I was currently in Florida for my friend’s wedding. I was friends with the groom and his best man since high school, so that makes it 10 years now. Seeing how they’re still friends after all this time, despite living in opposite sides of the country, was really moving to me. Of course, me being me, I could see Kratos and Yuan’s long friendship being similar to this, if they had gone to school together. I just had to draw it. - When I got back from vacation, I did some research on zine sizes. Mine was HUGE compared to others. I just didn’t quite realize it until I held a magazine in my hands. It really is huge…

I settled for a medium size. 7x9. I really liked how it looked. Petite but not too petite. Unfortunately resizing my book had messed up my artwork placement so I spent hours rearranging all the text and resizing my images. I found out afterwards that there’s a way to retain the format while changing the document size. Gee, that would have been helpful 4 hours ago.

Sadly, choosing a custom size booklet makes printing more expensive. But I wanted it badly enough that I’d be willing to pay for it. Letter size is just too large… - I decided to stop dragging my feet and post a promo. I just really needed a deadline for myself to get this all done before July ended. I’m happy it was well-received. A lot of people like Kratos huh…

Anyway, the pre-order is due in a week and I still don’t know what all the costs are yet. I need a physical proof ASAP to weigh at the post office! - Something possessed me one day to do another drawing. I don’t usually do painterly style (mainly because it’s really difficult and takes 10x longer) but I just REALLY wanted to push myself on this Final Piece to the zine. I wanted it to be… radiant. Almost religious. I worked on it obsessively. From breakfast to sundown. The only time I would stop was at 7pm to go running or else my legs would give out on me.

Call me crazy, but I would save my progress on my phone so I could examine it for errors during my warmup. I also spend an hour examining it for errors before going to bed. It’s a miracle I hadn’t dreamt of the painting. - I sent my files in on Sunday in hopes that they start working on it first thing on Monday…. and it HAPPENED! They finished before I even woke up. I think they start work at like 6am…

Of course, I drove over there as soon as I heard so I can get a look. “Please… please let the colors be okay,” I prayed as I was driving. I barely remember driving there, I was so lost in thought. It would be another long ordeal if I had to fix all the colors.

Thank the stars. The press proof looked BEAUTIFUL!! I was screaming to the client coordinator how much I loved it. I mean, I worried for a looooong time that everything would turn out too dark (it usually does) but it was PERFECT. I was especially worried about the cover, which contained a lot of yellow and I def did not want it to come out mustardy… But it was great in the end!

The press operator is a quiet man. He’s got a scary face and never smiles but I think he’s secretly nice. He has done a lot of favors for me in the past without my asking. He was the one to print, bind, and trim the book for me. Obviously he had to have seen what I was drawing. I wonder what he thought of it…? He walked away before I could express how happy and thankful was. He didn’t need to hear it. It was like he already knew. So cool…

I immediately took it to the post office to weigh it. I needed as much info as I could get and plus, I was dying to know for myself. This is the week I was supposed to open pre-orders and there was still a lot I needed to do. Take pictures, create mockups, pricing, etc.

NGL, all of these costs were building up fast. It was so darn expensive to make a zine while also keeping prices down. But I wanted so much more for my baby. Extra glossy cover, perfect binding!! I knew by the end of this, I probably wouldn’t make much money. It hurt a little, but I tried to think that it was for the greater good. Learning experience and all that. And creating something beautiful. Especially something beautiful of Kratos. - Pricing was really the hardest part. I pretty much threw profit out the window. However, I definitely did not want to be losing money. My dad and I had worked together to create a spreadsheet of expenses to make sure my head was above water. I followed it… loosely.

My friend came to talk to me at the right moment. I was sort of panicking at the prices. She made me realize I was thinking way too hard about it and gave me some tips based on her own experience. It really put my mind at ease talking to someone who understands my woes.

The truth of the matter is, the book is wonderfully made and has a lot of pages - countless hours of drawing. There is only so much I can do about pricing. It is what it is… I just needed to come to terms with my own worth. - Boy, what am I going to do once the zine is done? My friend says that I’ll be so over Kratos that I’ll stop drawing him (but the love remains). It’s like… all of the intense planning, working, struggling nonstop will just suddenly… stop. TBH, I’m running out of ideas. I spent it all on the zine. - Photoshoot today. I had to paint my nails purple for this occasion. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the look I wanted in the apartment. It’s just so naked without props. I think I’ll take it to a cafe for some nicer backgrounds. I talked it over with my friend and decided to do a quick flip-through of the zine as a promotional video. I used the most professional video program I had on hand… Snapchat. It actually turned out pretty legit and of course I slapped stickers on there because it’s Snapchat.

I had to tape/hide some of the pages for the video because I wasn’t actually done with the drawings. I had the printers print it anyway so I could examine it for color accuracy.

I’m really stressed about pricing now. It turns out I had a lot more international fans than I anticipated. I wish I took notes on interest earlier in the game to cater to them. I had a list of “possible buyers” and I only just now decided to check where they live? Foolish.

I did another cost analysis on paper to figure out what my goal was to make up for the charms. Right now they’ve cost me a fortune for something that was supposed to be giveaway. Other things that rack up are packaging costs, PayPal fees, and some other supplies I needed for this project.

Maybe I shouldn’t have made it 40 pages. It is an impressive number, but no one is really paying for quantity. I think 25 is a better number lol. If I had done that, I could have had my super-gloss cover like I wanted. :’(

There is hope though. And I’ve placed it in the hands of my followers to come through for me. I think I’ll open pre-orders on Saturday or Sunday, depending on what I finish. - “Losing your cool will only lead to poor decisions.”  Thanks, Kratos twitter bot. You always know what to say.

I read this post today on what makes people buy zines. Very interesting!  https://twitter.com/andythelemon_/status/1141469048653398019 - Photoshoot part 2 today. My friend and I went to a cafe nearby that had some nice atmosphere in hopes of finding the right shots. I brought all of my Kratos merch just in case. I’m glad I did though, since the tables were pretty sparse and it was difficult to capture the backgrounds without getting a bunch of random people in it too.

I would have been the photographer, but I definitely wanted my hands in the shots. In a way, it was meaningful - to show that this was made by my own two hands. Plus, I wanted to depict natural interaction with the product. It made it feel real.

The photos were cute! I feared it would look a little amateurish with all the merch in there, but I think fun was what I was really going for, not “professional.” And plus the flip-through was a Snap anyway LOL. As long as the photos have good lighting and tasteful composition, you really can’t go wrong with “fun.”

Now that I’ve finished editing my photos, there really isn’t anything holding me back from opening pre-orders. I’ve pretty much come to terms with my pricing. If I fail to break even, I’ll just have to open commissions to try to make up for it. I was telling my friend on the way home, “I gave this zine EVERYTHING I had to give. So at the very least, I won’t be disappointed in myself.” No stone left unturned, no detail left unchecked. It was perfect according to my standards. I really love my zine okay?!

I thought I was crazy for not only choosing a small fandom, I narrowed it down even further by picking ONE GUY to make this zine about. She replied, “Even if it’s small, those people who love him now must be EXTREMELY LOYAL to still be in love with a character from a 15-year-old game. All of them will want your zine.” - I went to bed that night with the intention of making the pre-order post live in the morning. I was so nervous I couldn’t sleep. I was wide awake until at least 5 or 6 am. Luckily, I was able to doze off for a an hour or two before I would shake myself awake again. It was a mixture of anxiety and excitement. It was the moment of truth - to see if all my effort made a difference. Was it going to sell? - The pre-order post looked really freaking good. I’ll give it that. I even made a YT account just to post that darn preview video on tumblr lol. It was definitely fun seeing everyone’s excitement and we all just freaked out together.

I broke even! That’s what really matters. Honestly at this point, I couldn’t care less if I made profit or not. I now know how much people really like the zine and that alone made me so happy I could die.

I was particularly fascinated at Google Form’s ability to transfer all the data collected into a spreadsheet. That is extremely helpful. I spent hours organizing the data. It was really fun…?! Now I can tell who gets invoiced and who paid and separate them into categories. IT’S FANTASTIC!

Stayed up late researching how much adding tracking could be. I had a slight panic attack thinking “what if my books got lost in transit?” It would really hurt me to have to reprint books and ship them again. And then I realized I will need to fill out customs forms for all international orders. Yikes, I’m gonna be living at the post office lol. You can print them out at home if you fill out the form online but there are still some things I’m uncertain about. I may visit the post office later this week to ask all my questions. - This morning I sent out everyone’s invoices. I gave the international people the option to purchase tracking. It’s expensive… but I need to provide that option just in case.

I received a nice message from someone who offered to advertise for me on Instagram. Of course, I gave them the OK! I’m really so shocked they would do that… They said the liked the zine so much it deserved more exposure. My dude… I love you… T_T

I thought about advertising on insta myself earlier in the week. For some reason I felt it was going to be fruitless since I don’t have an art account on there with a following. So, I gave up on the idea. Hey it worked out in the end.

I’ve never been so organized in my entire life. I want this zine experience to be perfect. The people have placed their trust in me, so I cannot mess up. - Edited some pages in the zine. The typography must be perfect… It made me think back to undergrad days in graphic design school. Man, if only I can present this as a project - photos, videos, matching accessories and all. I’d probably get an A lol. - Orders slow down after the first day. The rest is just about getting new people to see the post and giving other people more time to decide.

I finished my Kratos stationery today. It’s going to be so cute. My friend said people would want to buy it but I don’t have it in me to do more products at this time. Plus, I want it to be a surprise.

Why make stationery? Well my real job (no, I don’t draw Kratos all day for a living) is a stationery designer! It would feel really wrong not to put into practice what etiquette I’ve learned in this business. Plus, I felt that it was necessary to properly thank all those who ordered. And it’s fun?

I started designing the shipping labels for the domestic orders since I don’t need to fill out a customs form for those. I wish I had sticker labels but… it’s okay. It will still look good in the end. - Every so often, I would get nervous at the amount of money I’m responsible for. Perhaps, if I had a store with existing products I wouldn’t feel this way, but the fact that the books haven’t been printed yet made me scared. I know, I need this money to even print the books in the first place, but I’m just baffled at my customers’ trust in almost a total stranger. I felt pressured that I could not let them down and lose that trust. It probably didn’t help that I watched a documentary on Elizabeth Holmes (Theranos) that day.

So, I prayed every single day that nothing would go wrong. I’d check my spreadsheet constantly for any mistakes. It was a little obsessive, but I would rather be that than overlook something.

I began collecting cardboard boxes. My plan was to cut them up to protect the books during transit. I would have preferred hard envelopes but they were a bit pricey. If I have to do more work myself, so be it.

I’ve been getting nice DMs from some buyers. I think my invoice due date scared them… I really did not intend to be strict, but I wanted people to pay now if they can rather than forget about it. This happens at work all the time, so the best thing to do is have it due immediately. It would not look good to have to wait on stragglers when I close pre-orders, so I’ll probably reach out when there is one week left. - My Kratos stationery arrived! Aww it is SO CUTE!!! My babies… I have a lot of notes to write so I got started right away. It’s going to be a lot of work trying to come up with creative ways to say “thank you,” but I don’t mind. I said I was going to put my all into the zine experience so I will.

At long last, the charm order has been put in motion. My friend said it could take a while… I hope it won’t be longer than 3 weeks. I really do not want to keep everyone waiting. I may ship out the ones who did not win a charm first. I mean, there is no reason to make those guys wait. I should ask the charm winners if they still want to wait and see if anyone wants to give it up for someone else who is more patient. Hm. - I finally stopped by the post office today to collect customs forms. I have my work cut out for me since I’m filling all of them in by hand. D:

I’m not used to international addresses so I think I’ll ask for help in checking them for spelling errors and typos. Heaven forbid I mess up on the very last part of the zine experience.

In my nervousness, I decided to reach out about invoices early on. If someone wanted to cancel, I would rather find out sooner rather than later. Everyone was really nice about paying and thank goodness they’re still excited.

Feeling kind of overwhelmed by all the things I need to do, but it’s a good thing. If I don’t know what to do, I can either: cut cardboard, write letters, type shipping labels, draw more Kratos for a… possible volume 2? Someone I talked to today already said they’ll pre-order a second book if I make one. Omg I think I’ll die. But we’ll see. It’s just a joke right now haha… - Preorders end today. I had another nightmare last night that the books could not be printed properly and there was nothing I could do. Why do I keep getting nightmares about the zine! I had one a few days before about people canceling their orders when I asked them about the invoices. I’ll take these dreams with a grain of salt. I’m probably just stressed/worried but everything is going to be okay. When I open my eyes, nothing is on fire.

I received my final proof a few days ago. With all of the artwork completed and changes applied. The book looks good, no doubt about it. There was only one thing I was nit-picky about but it can be fixed. The press operator offered to print another book for me to inspect. I’ll go see it on Monday and then submit the rest of the orders. I also asked to to have a meeting with the press operator so we are on the same page. It would be beneficial to have an understanding of how my book is made so that I may be more helpful to him.

I spent the day preparing shipping labels. I hate to admit, I am not too familiar with the format international addresses so I had an address validator open as I was typing them in. For the most part, everyone was helpful in already formatting their addresses in the preorder form! - My parents called me the day after preorders were closed. They wanted to say congratulations on my success. No one thought it would do this well. I couldn’t be offended by that since I was also guilty of it. I’m happy though. It feels like my love spread across the world and was contagious.

I tried to think of what advice I would give to others. Obviously, genuine love for the subject and hard work were a necessity. But it would be good to consider value. If I were selling it at this price, I had to make sure my pieces and presentation looked the part. I ask myself, if someone else sold it, would I buy it?

I sent out messages to all the charm winners in the morning. I wanted to apologize profusely at the ridiculous amount of time it has taken to get them made. But no, I’ve got to stop apologizing. I stated the facts and left it at that. Everyone was really kind and patient⁠—to which I was thankful for. I don’t usually get that when I’m working customer service. - All the books were done printing in one day. Wow! I went to pick it up immediately of course. I can’t believe all of this is coming to an end. I finished preparing the mailers. All that was left was to stuff and seal the domestic orders. They were the easiest to do so I’m going to ship those first. The rest will need customs forms, which I haven’t filled out just yet. It’s going to be a while for those…

The mailers were quite sturdy with the cardboard cutouts I slipped in them. I have nothing to worry about. I’m sure my babies will be okay! - I took a whole box of domestic orders to the post office today. Wasn’t sure what to expect. But my clerk had to input every single address one at a time while I checked for errors. Omg, why are the post office shipping labels SO HUGE. I thought it was going to be half the size. And they’re ruining my designer labels! Slight panic but oh well…

I had a long long line behind me. I’m so sorry, people. Luckily there were two clerks or I would be really sweating. Despite my intimidating box of zines, the clerk and I had Synergy and we managed to ship all of these in about 15 minutes. I received a very long receipt and quite the bill lol. - Shipped the international orders today. I was kind of a mess since I had no idea what to do. I keep wondering if I can help speed up the process in any way but I don’t think I have the option to ship first-class at home.

When shipping international, keep the post office copy of the customs forms together with the package since they use that to type the address info into the system. Also, we get free tracking, which I did not know about. The other clerk told me that we did not get tracking for international first-class but I guess he was misinformed. It’s good to know for next time. - The charms finally arrived!! And THEY’RE HOLOGRAPHIC?! It was pretty awesome, but it makes picture-taking kind of difficult!! Anyway, I was a tiny bit disgruntled that they got my order incorrect, and I even asked for a reprint. But they said no, so I left it at that. Besides, it seems the holographic effect was well-received.

I like this size that I made. It’s really cute! Larger than your normal charm but not too huge. It’s almost like an Instax photo! - There was one customer who I found lives near me! I asked her if she wanted me to hand-deliver it to her in a public setting and she agreed (to my amazement). We finally met a few days ago and talked for hours and hours lol! I’m glad to have finally made a new friend here in this town but of course she’s moving away in two weeks. <:’3

We’re going to meet again to make the most of her time left. - I shipped the rest of the orders on the following Monday. I HAD to get these out. The poor guys have been waiting over a month! I think I picked a bad time to go because I had a huge line behind me and only one guy working. People in line were getting antsy or mad. The clerk at the other post office was super fast but not this guy…

For some reason shipping to the UK and Japan nearly doubled in price since the last time I checked. RIP. T_T - Omg I finally made a mistake. I wrote a letter to the wrong person. And the contents of that letter are too personalized!!! I am dying of embarrassment!!!!! Screams!! Had to apologize to both customers too!!! Luckily they were good sports about it but I’m seriously kicking myself AAAAAAAA!!!! - The most rewarding part after sending all my babies away is seeing the commentary on my project. It is so so nice to receive positive feedback. People are happy! Happy with something I created out of thin air. Everything was worth it 1000 times over. I can die happy!

I’m especially thankful to those who show understanding for how much effort went into it. It definitely wasn’t easy and I poured way too many hours into it… not that I regret that.

I don’t want to jump the gun but I would really love to make a volume 2. Because I know I can do better than last time. New and improved art and comics! But we’ll see if I make enough pieces for another book. I was against printing 40 pages before but now I kind of like it. It feels more worth it than a 25-page zine. If i’m going though so much effort, might as well bring in the entire package.

I’ll be printing more of this volume for Aselia Con 2020. Now I know people will appreciate it.

#diary

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the-heroic-changeling · 5 years

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The Infinite Slime

So I wrote another 1,000 word short story as practice, wrote it in like an hour and a half with no real polish. This time I was inspired by two things: velvet worms, and the ridiculousness of the Silver Age of Comics. It’s kind of an odd combo in all honesty, but it’s fun too. So please, enjoy these writer equivalent of an artist’s warmup sketch. Tagging @akirakan @ayellowbirds @majingojira @muceybbds @jogress @filipfatalattractionrblog not sure if you would interested in this silliness, but it’s there if you want it.

…………

The calm of a sunny day was shattered in a rumbling of the Earth. The small Virginia campus convulsed like a dead man’s bowls, the students and facility struggled to steady themselves, unused to the danger of an earthquake. The buildings were not built for a tremor of this magnitude either, cracks began to race through the halls like bubonic plague through a body. Outside the parked cars rocked from the quake until their alarms began to screech, overwhelming the poor humans with a cacophony of shrieks.

As these victims of the shifting earth clutched their ears, falling to their knees, one student spotted a motorized skateboard whizzing down the street. Riding atop the Slimemobile was the famed superhero, her fifteen pairs of legs clutching the board, her head raised up so her slime glands could take aim.

“It’s the Infinite Slime!” the observant student realized, though their shout of excitement was lost under the screaming car alarms. They stared wide eyed as the superhero fired spirals of slime out of their third head segment, coating the nearest student’s ears with goo. He relaxed as the screaming alarms were muffled, even as the superhero rode away to help more of the students.

As the superhero rattled by on her skateboard, the enby bent their head, letting the Infinite Slime splatter slime over their ears. As the cooling goo reduced the sensory pain, the enby waved at the superhero, who wiggled her front pair of legs back. But the Infinite Slime couldn’t stop, she had to help all of the civilians caught in the quake.

She charged at one of the cracking buildings, debris shaking loose from the earthquake’s damage even as the tremors stopped. The Slimemobile skidded to a halt as the Infinite Slime reared back, before she fired narrow spirals of slime, sealing over the cracks with their power.

“How can a mere velvet worm have that much slime?” A student signed with his hands, and the first student to spot her signed back in a passionate flurry of signing. Neither of them could hear with their ears muffled by slime.

“That’s not an ordinary velvet worm, the Infinite Slime’s glands are connected directly to the Slime Dimension, a realm of pure slime. She can tap into that endless supply of slime at will, and direct it with her natural velvet worm instincts.”

And before the crowd’s eyes the Infinite Slime had sealed up the cracks in the Arthur Ashe Hall, before restarting the Slimemobile with a rev of her motor. She rattled over the brick walkways, heading towards the nearby clocktower, whose bell was still trembling from the quake.

“Wow, I heard this town had a superhero, but I didn’t imagine she would be so powerful,” the student marveled, even as Infinite Slime fired blasts of compressed slime in tight circular motions, launching the goo high until it plastered the cracks in the building.

A crowd began to gather as the Infinite Slime raced to a custodian who had fallen in the quake, her leg torn and bloody. With careful aim the superhero sealed up her cuts, stopping more blood lose.

“Thank you…” She nodded in thanks, even as the superhero turned around to travel through the rest of the campus, firing quick bursts of slime at the buildings with only mild damage.

“I heard she was the treasured pet of a physicist, and when the doctor’s experiment exploded she became linked to the Slime Dimension.”

“I heard she was the physicist herself, and was transformed by the Slime Force to better manipulate the Slime Dimension.”

“That’s ridiculous, a human can’t just become a velvet worm.”

“But she’s way smarter than an ordinary velvet worm, she even built her own Slimemobile.”

“Well, I heard the explosion not only empowered the velvet worm, but merged her with her owner’s consciousness. That explains her power and intellect.”

“Yeah but physicists aren’t mechanics, it wouldn’t explain how she could build that—”

“Shush, come on.”

As her adoring public had chattered and argued, the Infinite Slime had continued on in the meantime, plastering up another crumbling building. But the structure kept shaking, the insides had become too weakened. She could see several students trapped inside, banging on the door, but it appeared to have been locked by the tremor.

The superhero twisted her head back, before snapping back forward and unleashing a rapid burst of slime. The force of the goo plowed into the doors, knocking them aside. Quickly the students ran and wheeled out, diving for the soft grass in the open campus.

“Please, Jacob is trapped under rubble on the second floor, in the computer room. Is there anything you can do?”

The Infinite Slime revved her vehicle before rocketing forward, going up the wheelchair accessible ramp and through the open doors.

The building quaked like ice shredding concrete, but the Infinite Slime was levelheaded. She fired slime rapidly, glueing the crumbling walls and ceiling with wads of slime. The slime would buy her time.

She knocked open the doors to the stairway, before firing two cords of slime. They latched to the top step and she pulled, hurling herself off the Slimemobile up the flight of stairs. She then scurried around the corner to the next set of stairs lassoing it again and launching herself to the second floor, even as rubble continued to fall.

The crowd continued to watch from the outside, as the building shattered and splintered light an pine after a barrage of lightning had torn it asunder. As the building began to topple everyone held their breath, clutching at whatever they could grasp.

And then with a screech of rubber on brick the Slimemobile peeled out, with a man laying atop it and the Infinite Slime pounding her legs against his chest, giving him CPR.

“Thank goodness you were here,” a medical student said as he took over giving the man aid. The Infinity Slime bowed in thanks, and the crowd cheered for their hero.

#superheroes #my art #short stories #velvet worms

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comicteaparty · 5 years

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August 31st-September 6th, 2019 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from August 31st, 2019 to September 6th, 2019. The chat focused on the following question:

How do you personally deal with writing or drawing slumps when tackling your comic?

AntiBunny

Usually? Hate myself.

Ok, really, I don't have any good strategies for dealing with this, and half the time I can't even recognize when I'm in a slump until it's been going on far too long. I'll be very interested to see what others have to say.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

To be honest, I just power through it. If I'm in a writing slump, I have a lot of boring times at work to idly think about the scene; I'll even scribble down notes to use later. If it's an art slump, I'll do a warmup and then power through, knowing that some panels may not be perfect, but as long as it's readable, it's better than nothing.

FeatherNotes

I immediately go to consume other media that either inspired me to make my own content, or something new and fresh to help with ideas. At the same time, I go back to studying things like anatomy , perspective, or draw environments to basically keep me in the creative game. I think it's important to take breaks from your large projects, and focus on something else you could use as a creative outlet! another big thing that gets me out of any kind of slump is to talk about the creative process of others works. talk to other writers/authours and get to know the way they plan a piece/project! I find it an easy inspiration to kick my ass into art mode

authorloremipsum

Similar to feathernotes, and Nutty, if I've gotten in a slump, it's a combination of powering through and consuming something fresh. +Powering through helps you practice staying motivated with projects, and it helps if you don't let yourself think of a project as a chore. Like, "No this is something I enjoy doing!" +Consuming fresh media gives your creative muscles time to rest, and can also inspire you. +On the flip side, working on a DIFFERENT project of some sort, maybe another medium of art, helps me out of slumps sometimes, because then I'm still being creative, but not beating an unconscious horse. (it's not a dead horse, it'll wake up eventually)

MJ Massey

Ha same as you guys, I'll try to read, watch, or play something new to get ideas flowing, though I may also just do a bunch of out there sketches just for me to experiment with new things outside the norm.

But if I'm real bummed out, I usually mope around and try to power through as well, cause sometimes just finishing something can help snap me out of it too

ErinPtah (Leif & Thorn | BICP)

On top of what people have already said, I think it's important to ask...is there a reason you're in a slump? I don't just mean external reasons (like work-related stress or a personal health issue -- though those can definitely affect your creativity, so addressing them can help). I mean about the comic itself. What's the next part you were planning to draw, and is there anything about it that's dragging down your enthusiasm?

ErinPtah (Leif & Thorn | BICP)

Sometimes the slump is your instincts trying to tell you something. Like, if the issue is "well, this part is really tedious, but I next to get through it in order to set up the exciting bit that I want to draw," the next question is, how much setup do you actually need? Can you just...skip to the exciting bit? The buildup should be fun and engaging in its own right. If you find yourself slogging through a stretch that doesn't inspire you, there's a good chance it's not going to inspire readers either, and a lot of them will drift away before you even get to the payoff.

...me, I'm up against a wall right now for a different reason, which is that I'm approaching the Last Chapter. It has to deliver a satisfying payoff on everything that's been set up over the entire course of the comic, or else that's it, time's up, no more chances. So that's, uh, a bit intimidating.

FeatherNotes

@ErinPtah (Leif & Thorn | BICP) that's a reallu good point! Taking that time to do some reflection on your work and the possibility of it's course being what is causing your slump is important! I think that in those cases specifically, having a small community that can beta for you or give you feedback is invaluable

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I usually fall into just one side of things - either a drawing slump or a writing slump, rarely both. When I don't want to draw, I write, and when I don't want to write, I draw. So... I'm fortunate that way. I find myself being so single-minded in finishing this crazy comic project, I find a way to swap my slumps so I am at least working on something. Maybe I'm setting myself up for a mega-slump further down the line, though... so I'll have to watch out (edited)

snuffysam

For art slumps it's often "i didn't think this scene through, this page is way too complex, why did i include a crowd here", etc. And for that I just gotta power through - I know I wrote the script like that because I liked it, so if I want the audience to like the page I have to draw it the way I originally intended without cutting corners. For writing slumps - what @ErinPtah (Leif & Thorn | BICP) said. If I don't want to write, I probably don't like what I'm writing very much. The big example I can think of is Book 3's script. My original draft was just awful, WAAAY too slow, messed up Mizuki's power scaling, was too edgy, the works. There was a chapter where Mizuki and friends have to sit around in a desert for 80 hours. That chapter alone was going to be over 200 pages long, and involve the gang fighting a sandworm and a reference to Holes. There was a chapter where Mizuki and her friends use their magic to play basketball against one really powerful opponent. I literally never made it past that arc because it was too boring and too derivative. There was one character whose magic ability was demon wings, a character whose ability was Mercy from Overwatch, one whose magic was steampunk aesthetic, and one whose ability was butterfly wings. Their personalities were as follows: none. Book 3 has a group of people who are supposed to be among the most powerful and interesting magic fighters in the comic. One of those people had acid breath that smells like perfume as her magic ability. She's defeated by a character turning into someone so beautiful that she faints. There are like... two scenes that I kept from that original draft (and even those had lines changed). Everything else was completely re-done. And now? I'd say it's honestly my favorite script I've done for any of the books so far. Every minor character is interesting and has a full arc, it's not a million pages long, the fights are good, etc.(edited)

oh and http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/comics/ is the link

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #creator interview #comic creator interview #comic tea party #ctp #creator babble

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dovechim · 7 years

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it’s okay, that’s love 04

➾ water polo player!jimin x psychiatrist!reader ft ot7 ➾ warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, Munchausen Syndrome ➾ word count: 8k ➾ previous parts 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 ➾ disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and i do not claim to be a qualified mental health professional. this work is not intended to provide any medical advice of any sort, please consult a licensed physician instead.

➾ a/n: this chapter focuses slightly more on jeongguk, and hoseok finally makes his entrance!! with that, all the players are on the field, and the real fun can begin ;-)

Seokjin flips through his little book of game strategies that he always consults before a big match, to the extent that nearly every single page is dog-eared and the spine is broken beyond rescue. Today’s match is regionals, and it’s an understatement to say that the entire team has been underperforming by stretches for the past few weeks. He only hopes that they’ve just been fooling around during practice and that they’ll give their best where it really matters, because he would hate to see them miss out on a chance to play semi-professionally. Not only that, but the funding from the sports association has trickled to a stop in the past months as well, and he’s just about exhausted every single sponsor he could find.

Looking over the small ovals that he’d roughly sketched on the lined notebook paper last night, Seokjin visualises each and every player that they represent, and he knows their strengths and weaknesses like the back of his hand. It’s so incongruent, the way each player is ultimately reduced to just a pawn on a strategic chessboard, when they mean so much more to him than he could ever express.

A knock sounds on his office door, and Seokjin looks up in surprise. His usual pre-game routine is to barricade himself in his office till just 10 minutes before it starts. It’s his only chance to get some peace and quiet before he has to go out into the deafening chaotic poolside where he has to constantly be on his toes to spot a potential loophole in the opponent’s defense, and be ready to switch tactics in the blink of an eye. He needs his quiet time, and his team knows that all too well. So when Park Jimin greets him nervously, Seokjin only beckons him in without a word.

It must be serious, judging from the look on Jimin’s face as he sits on the edge of his chair gingerly.

“C-coach-nim, I’m sorry to interrupt like this, but…”

“What is it?” Seokjin’s voice comes out gruffer than he wanted it to, and he reaches for a sip of water, clearing his throat in the process.

“Um, I was ordered to sit out today’s game.” Jimin doesn’t sound thrilled either, and Seokjin can feel his heart sink all the way to his toes.

Get through a match without Park Jimin? He’d never played a match without either one of his star players before, and even if Jimin did tend to get substituted out halfway through a game, that didn’t mean that he didn’t contribute to the winning score at all. Nearly half of all the goals they’d scored came from Jimin, the other half from Jeongguk, and even if Jimin wasn’t scoring, there was just this harmony that he had with the rest of the team, the innate skill that allowed him to distinguish when to hang back and support another teammate and when to lead the frontlines into battle.

Seokjin swallows hard, feeling panic slowly rise from the pit of his stomach as he glances at his notebook in front of him. “What’s the reason for that?”

“_____ told me to sit out. She said she’d explain the reason to you herself before the game,” Jimin follows his gaze to the bright blue notebook that sits face down on the desk. “Did she not tell you yet?”

Just then, his phone buzzes with a text message, and Seokjin glances at it, seeing your name light up his screen.

2.39pm [You]: Seokjin-ssi, I’m sorry for the late notice, but Jimin has to sit out today’s game. His wounds from last time aren’t completely healed yet, and I don’t want to risk an infection. I’ve told him that I want him to observe how the rest of his team plays without him, so please keep the real reason from him. Thank you.

Seokjin curses under his breath as he runs his fingers through his hair, mind racing to come up with who he can sub in so that they won’t lose too badly. Hyunsik, their best sub, is out sick today, and having to pick from the remaining benchwarmers makes Seokjin want to throw up his lunch, because not only would it be better to just enter the match a player short, subbing one of them in would be like playing with two players short.

In the midst of his rumination, he catches a glimpse of Jimin’s overcast face, and a pang of sympathy shoots through him. His eyes wander over Jimin’s well-toned body, trying to pick out where his self-harm wounds might be, and at the same time wondering how he’d never managed to spot them over all these years. Hours of gym sessions together and targeting specific muscle groups also meant that he ended up with a very intimate knowledge of every single part of Park Jimin’s body, more than he’d ever want to have, thank you very much, and yet...

Worry over the upcoming match is weighing on his shoulders, urging him to get back to planning, and Seokjin feels like shit because he knows that he should be worrying about Jimin’s mental health instead.

“Have a good rest, yeah?” His attempt to show one of his best players some concern falls a little shorter than he planned for it to be, and for once Seokjin wishes that he didn’t have this veneer of the strict, overbearing coach whose only definition of love is tough love.

Jimin gives him a hesitant, apologetic smile as he nods and makes to take his leave, leaving Seokjin to go back to devising a new strategy in just 15 minutes.

Jeongguk can feel the butterflies in his stomach attempting a riot as he adjusts his cap atop his head. It’s just another game, you can do this, you can get through it, Kook.

His teammates beside him are oblivious to this little pep talk that he gives himself, too absorbed in fooling around and pinching each other’s nipples to notice the clammy sweat that gathers on Jeongguk’s palms. As a last resort, Jeongguk cranes his head to look for Jimin- teasing that hyung always gets him to loosen up- but Jimin is nowhere to be seen in the locker room.

Before Jeongguk can ask Yugyeom, Seokjin enters the locker room for their usual pre-game brief, and everyone quiets down immediately, looking to their broad shouldered coach expectantly.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders before addressing his team.

“Alright guys, some changes to today’s strategies. Park is sitting this one out, which means we’re down an attacker. I’ll be subbing Jisoo in, but under no circumstances are you to go near the frontline, understand?” Seokjin levels his gaze at Jisoo, and the jet-black haired male nods timidly.

“Instead, I’ll need you to pick up the slack, Jeon,” Seokjin nods at him, and Jeongguk can feel his stomach seize up as the rest of the team turns to look at him as well. He can feel the weight of their stares upon his shoulders already, and it feels like an anchor around him that threatens to drag him to the bottom of the pool the second he touches the water.

“I know it’ll be hard without Park to assist, but you can do it, right Jeon?” Seokjin’s expectant smile rests upon his lips, and Jeongguk gives a muted nod in response.

“Alright then, warmups, then poolside in 5 minutes. Good luck, boys.”

Taehyung scrolls through the never ending list of contacts in his phone with disinterest. Some of these numbers he can’t even remember where he got them from, much less recall the face that belongs to the number. He has a bit of a dilemma about whether to delete the contact or not, because on one hand it could be a really hot girl, but on the other hand, what’s the use of keeping the contact if he can’t remember what she looks like?

This is just a waste of time.

He tosses the phone onto his bed in frustration. This is one of his rare nights off in a while and he can’t even decide on a girl to spend it with. His screen lights up with a text and he eagerly checks it, only to let it slip from his fingers when he sees that it’s from Lee Sunmi, one of his many ex one night stands who just couldn’t comprehend the concept of it being for one night only.

Taehyung doesn’t fuck the same girl twice, it’s his personal philosophy to avoid all things even remotely connected with the notion of commitment.

There’s a crash followed by a string of curses somewhere outside his room that snaps him out of his daze, and he leaves his phone on his bed to peek his head out. You’re fumbling with an untied shoelace while sitting on the ground, your t-shirt dress riding up your thighs as you struggle to do your laces.

“Did you just trip on a flat surface?” He teases even as he ventures out towards you in the living room, stretching his arms over his head. His eyes wander up the bare expanse of your legs, and even though he knows you don’t see him as anything more than a gross childhood friend, he’s still a guy after all, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s imagined how you would be like in bed more than a few times.

You quiet him with a glare as you continue to fiddle with your shoe. “Don’t you have somewhere to be tonight? You’re usually not home on our nights off. No hot date tonight?”

Taehyung sighs melodramatically. “I couldn’t decide on a girl tonight so I was hoping you could suck my dick instead.”

“I wouldn’t go near that disgusting jellybean of yours and you fucking know it,” you say even as you sweep your spilled belongings back into your purse, picking up your tablet and examining the screen for any damage.

“Babe, your information is way outdated, it may have been a jellybean the last time you saw it when we were in that paddle pool together as kids but I can assure you now-“

You catch him ogling your bare legs and tug your dress down to cover your thighs, regretfully, he might add. “Kim Taehyung, are you actually that desperate that you’re begging me for a blowjob right now?”

He only shrugs, trying to play it off casually, but he’s still ever the gentleman, keeping his hands on your upper arms even as he reaches out to help you back onto your feet. “Well… I mean, I’m home alone, bored, and you’re home alone, bored as well, so together we could both be very excited…”

You only snort in amusement, reaching up to ruffle his hair a little harder than necessary. “I’m not sure where you got that from, because I’m about to go out right now, so…”

Taehyung’s eyes light up in understanding, and he perks up with interest. “On a date? Did you finally get your boring ass a boyfriend? Is it Jimin? Is that why you won’t suck me off?”

As far as he knows you haven’t been in a relationship since you started out as an intern shadowing a senior fellow two years ago, and even then that relationship was short lived. He doesn’t know much about what happened back then or why the relationship ended, since you refuse to talk to anyone about it. But as your best friend of nearly a decade and a half, Taehyung knows that it must have been something serious after he found you crying hysterically in the intern’s break room while typing out a resignation letter on your laptop and had to beg you not to submit it till the wee hours of dawn.

Taken aback by his sudden multitude of questions, you hold up your hands in defence as you start backing towards the door. “The answer to all those questions is no, I’m just going to see their water polo game, and no, I won’t suck your dick even if it was going to fall off.”

Taehyung deflates a little in disappointment, because when Park Jimin approached him last week to ask when you got off work, he was almost certain that the look on the boy’s face was something akin to love, lust or infatuation; he wasn’t very good at distinguishing the three, but still. He’s pretty sure the way that boy looks at you is pure adoration in itself, and he just wants to grab you by the shoulders and tell you that he’s the one, but he also knows that he has to let you come to that realisation by yourself.

“You should give him a chance, yeah? Have some emotions; act a little more human and less machine like,” he softens his tone as he takes in the defensive hunch of your shoulders. “Y’know, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” he winks greasily just to lighten the mood a little, and it works because you can’t help but chuckle at him.

“I’m not sure taking relationship advice from a Casanova is wise, but thanks,” you throw over your shoulder casually even as you slip out to close and lock the gate behind you. When you pause and level him with a frown creasing your brow, he raises his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Will you be okay? D’you wanna come with me or something? I mean, I don’t have any hook-ups for you but it beats being home alone and…”

Taehyung appreciates your concern, but the sympathy in your voice doesn’t sit well with him, and he looks away, shifting his gaze to avoid yours. He clears his suddenly uncomfortably dry throat with a cough, trying to pass it off as a laugh. “Don’t worry about me babe, I’ll be fine, I’ll just call Sunmi or something.” He fakes a smile as he gestures at you to leave, closing the heavy wooden door to escape from your hesitant, concerned eyes.

There’s no reason why the water would be cold, considering that the past few days have been swelteringly hot, but Jeongguk feels the chill down to his very bones as he slides into the pool.

The rest of his teammates are following suit behind him, and as they get into position, he notes Jisoo hanging back with the defense, leaving the midfield attack formation painfully empty. Usually they stick to the well tested 3 attack 3 defense formation, but today he’s the center forward with only one wing as support in the frontlines.

He can see the opposing team holding a last minute discussion as they realise that one of their star players isn’t in the pool today, and there seems to be a spark of hope on their coach’s face as he gestures wildly.

To distract himself from the rapidly growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach, he lets his gaze wander over to the spectator’s stands, wondering if you’ll show up today as well. Having your moral support cheering him on as he fights this losing battle against himself makes him feel a little less lonely, but then again, it’s one more person who will see him screw up. Jeongguk spots you in your bright red t-shirt dress as you squeeze past to get to an empty seat, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips in spite of everything.

He tears his gaze away from you just as the splashes of the opposing team entering the water sounds in his ears. Jeongguk glances around at his teammates, seeing similar looks of intense focus and nervousness abound on their faces.

He can’t fuck this up, his team is relying on him, Seokjin-hyung is relying on him, Jimin-hyung is relying on him, he can’t miss a single goal, he can’t lose focus, he can’t-

The whistle is blown and the ball dropped into the center of the pool. More on instinct than anything else, Jeongguk finds himself surging forward in powerful strokes that carries him almost within reach of the yellow ball that brushes against his fingertips. Just as he strains his muscles for that final burst of energy, the ball is snatched out of his reach by the opposing team, and passed toward his teammate, and the ball is far down the other side of the court in the blink of an eye.

Panic slams into his gut as he struggles to keep afloat, he’s never lost the initial throw-offs before.

Somewhere on the sidelines, Seokjin-hyung is furious and incredulous, shouting out rapid-fire instructions, but Jeongguk can’t seem to make out a single word. His muscles burn with the effort of staying afloat even as he watches the opposing team score effortlessly with no one in their way.

The ball is reset to the opposing team’s possession. Jeongguk can feel the atmosphere of surprise and shock among his own teammates, and he can’t bring himself to look them in the eye as he retakes his position in the middle, instead keeping his eyes on the player with the ball in his hand as he gets ready to shoot.

The moment the ball leaves the opponent’s hand, Jeongguk sprints toward it with adrenaline powering his every move, his outstretched hand making contact with the ball as he bats it towards his team’s goal, hoping that one of his teammates would receive it and pass it on. From the corner of his eye he sees Yugyeom straining to get into position to catch it mid-air, and he holds his breath as his best friend just manages to pluck the ball out of the air with the opposing team hounding him.

They manage to score, and it’s met with a deafening cheer from the spectators. The panic in his gut eases a little, though the score is only even now and he can’t afford to mess up anymore. The ball is returned to their side, and as Jeongguk tightens his grip on the slick surface of the ball, he feels the nerves clog up his throat, the mouthguard in his mouth turns to stone, and for a second his vision goes blurry.

He suddenly loses the ability to manipulate his legs and arm that are treading water to keep him afloat, and he sinks to the bottom of the pool. The water rises to beneath his chin as a fresh stab of panic makes itself known in his chest, and the warning blow of the referee’s whistle pierces through the frenzied thoughts in his head, and he kicks frantically to keep his head above water and his feet off the bottom of the pool.

Seokjin is demanding to know what’s wrong with him, calling his name repeatedly from the benches, and Jeongguk wishes he could answer him, because he’d very much like to know exactly what the fuck is going on in his head too. But instead he ignores Seokjin’s yells because the referee is gesturing at him impatiently since he’s been hogging the ball, and just blindly tosses the ball right into a spot where his opponent’s team are concentrated.

Fuck.

He’s not sure how he managed to cross half the length of the pool within what seems like seconds, but Jeongguk is determined to get back possession of the ball as he jumps straight into the brawl of his opponents. Elbows and knees are coming at him from every single direction, and a well-placed kick in his stomach leaves him winded as his head submerges underwater, but his only thought is that he has to get the ball back, has to pass it to his team, has to score, has to win this game-

There’s a sudden force on the small of his back, right on his spine that pushes him downwards towards the tiled-bottom of the pool headfirst. He tries to resist with all his strength, aiming his kicks downwards and fighting with his arms to reach the surface of the pool, but the lack of oxygen in his lungs along with his blurry vision is perhaps his greatest enemy of all, working together with the opponent’s team to drag him down, and then everything goes black.

When Jeongguk next opens his eyes, he sees your worried face peering down at him from above, and he thinks to himself that dying might not be so bad after all.

The voices are all muffled in his ears, and everything is so blindingly white, that it threatens to envelope your silhouette entirely.

He peers around the room in confusion as he realises that you’re not the only one here, slowly he begins to recognise the other faces: Taehyung, Jimin and finally Seokjin.

“Wh-what are you all doing here?” He attempts to prop himself up on his pillows. “Wait, if this is my version of heaven, why are you here, Jimin-hyung? And Seokjin-hyung? And Taehyung-hyung?”

Seokjin sags in relief at his words, even though Jimin reaches over to ruffle his hair in retaliation, but you stop him in their tracks with a glare.

“The patient needs to rest now. If all the unnecessary people in the room could vacate it as soon as possible, that would be great,” you reach over to tuck his blankets around him more securely, shooting a pointed look at Taehyung and Jimin in the process, but they ignore you.

“Hey, I’m a doctor too, you can’t tell me to just leave-“ Taehyung brandishes his white coat about him like it’s supposed to prove something.

Jeongguk leans his head back against his pillow, and it’s only then that he realizes that he’s in a hospital. The last thing he can remember is that he was in the midst of a game, and his mind is whirling so much as he tries to comprehend why he would be here in the first place, what happened, are all of his limbs still intact, and more importantly-

He fumbles under the sheets to grasp himself firmly, a look of immense relief crossing his features almost immediately when his hand meets solid flesh and he sags back against the pillows. The look on Jeongguk’s face elicits a tiny giggle from you as your eyes are drawn to his movements beneath the sheets, and you reach over to push his bangs aside gently.

“Do you know what happened?” You ask as you perch yourself on the edge of his bed, eyes running over the bandage that’s wrapped around his head. Seokjin is standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he studies Jeongguk closely, waiting for his response.

Jeongguk shifts his eyes nervously under the scrutiny and reaches for your hand surreptitiously within the folds of the blankets on his bed. When he grasps your warm hand in his, his heart rate seems to slow down a little, and your reassuring squeeze gives him the courage to meet your eyes, if only for a few seconds.

“I was trying to get the ball back from the opposing team,” is all he says at first, because it’s the first and only thing that comes to mind, but then the memories come rushing back all at once, and it’s impossible to stop the rising sobs in his chest as the words fight their way out. “A-and I missed the throw-offs, let our opponent score, almost touched the bottom of the pool, threw the ball right into their attack formation, lost the game, and-“ he ends in a gasp with his eyes tightly shut, recalling the way his teammates looked at him with utter disappointment, that the golden boy Jeon Jeongguk would ever miss a shot and let them down like that.

“I fucked up our chances of winning. I fucked us up.”

“Jeongguk,” you’re the first to speak up in an attempt to get him to open his eyes and look at you. But he doesn’t respond, instead his chest is rising and falling rapidly and his sobs are filling the small room. “Jeongguk, it’s okay, everything is okay, you’re okay.”

“B-but I fucked up so bad and I-I just-“

“It doesn’t matter, it’s all over, okay? Just take a deep breath for me, hold it for 7 seconds, and then breathe out, slowly,” you tell him, enunciating your words clearly in order to try and calm him down.

And Jeongguk does try, he looks at you with tears of desperation that clog up his chest, but the unwavering look in your eyes makes him believe that as long as he follows what you tell him to do to the letter, everything will be fine, he won’t feel as if he’s about to die with the panic that threatens to submerge him all over again.

He doesn’t dare look at Seokjin the whole time. He can feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, all watching him and for a second he nearly blacks out again under the weight of their scrutiny, but he forces himself to concentrate on the way you’re stroking your thumb over his nearly white knuckles.

And his breathing eventually quietens, his hands stop shaking enough for him to feel the bandage around his temples, assessing the damage done.

“Jeongguk, you just had a panic attack, but everything is completely fine and you got through it.” Jeongguk only nods silently as he stares down at his fingernails, waiting for you to continue. You reach out to stroke his cheek gently, and he allows himself to catalogue the touch with his eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of your fingers upon his skin to distract himself. “Did you have one during the game as well? Felt like you couldn’t breathe, felt dizzy, had your heart beating faster than it normally does?”

“Yes.” His voice is small even as his admission makes him loathe himself to the core, makes him wonder why he has to be like this, so weak and inferior and defective, and why he can’t control himself and function normally, why he can’t be a normal fucking human being.

“Do you have them often? How long has this been going on for?” Your gentle probing has him tensing up even as he glances at Seokjin from under his golden bangs, hesitant to answer for fear that he might be kicked off the team. Because he’s Jeon Jeongguk, golden boy and star player, and he needs this so badly not just as a career for a livelihood, but because it’s all he’s ever known himself to be, and without it, what would he ever amount to?

He’s struggling to find an answer, to place a date to when all of this started, but a shrill ring cuts through the strained silence. He jerks in surprise, breathing elevated and immediately on alert, but then he realises that it’s only Seokjin-hyung’s phone.

Seokjin mumbles an apology under his breath before excusing himself to take the call, and Jeongguk’s heart sinks inside his chest as he watches the surly expression on his coach’s features as he turns to leave.

Seokjin steps out of the hospital room, digging into his back pocket for his ringing phone to hurriedly silence it, but freezes when he sees the contact on his screen.

The Waterpolo Sports Association.

He lets the phone ring for just a tad longer, drawing him reprimanding glances from the nurses who pass him by. But he can’t put off answering this phone call any longer, he’s surprised that they’ve already found out about Jeongguk’s injury without his having to inform them.

“S-sajang-nim, good afternoon!!”

But the voice on the other end of the line doesn’t seem to think so.

“How could you let this happen? What is the condition of Jeon Jeongguk right now? Will he still be able to contribute to the association?” The cold voice on the other end doesn’t let up on its barrage of questions, and Seokjin mentally imagines that it belongs to a fat old man who only cares about dollars and cents.

He’s never met the head of the Water Polo Sports Association before, the only form of contact being impersonal emails and occasionally texts, and this is the first time he’s received a phone call like this.

“I-I’m in the hospital with him right now, he seems to be in relatively stable condition with just a slight concussion, they’re keeping him for further observation-“ Seokjin rushes to explain the situation and paint it in the best light possible, desperate to ease the voice’s concerns.

“We have received information that Jeon Jeongguk may be mentally unstable and thus a liability to the association.”

Seokjin’s breath screeches to a halt in his lungs, and for one sickening second, he thinks he might actually throw up. A multitude of thoughts are racing through his mind at once, and all he wants to do is hang up on this fucker who sees his players as nothing more than golden money making opportunities. How did he even know about Jeongguk’s anxiety? Today was his first time even hearing about it, so how the fuck did they get their hands on this piece of information?

Even if Jeon Jeongguk is mentally ill, he deserves the best treatment money can buy, and his value as a person doesn’t depend on whether he can contribute to the association or not, so you can kindly go fuck yourself with those millions of dollars you have, is what Seokjin imagines himself saying.

But in reality, he stutters out, “th-that’s not true sir, it was just a minor altercation that won’t happen again, I can assure you.”

The voice doesn’t seem to be entirely convinced, but is somewhat appeased at his simpering tone, and Seokjin wonders if he’s ever stooped this low before. He’s so disgusted with himself that he doesn’t even know where to begin. Why didn’t he stop for a second and wonder if he might be placing too much pressure on Jeongguk? Did the greed of winning regionals override his rationality and blind his humanity, in which case he might not be that different from the association after all?

First Jimin, and now Jeongguk. Why is he failing his team so badly?

“In that case, I just wanted to personally remind you that the last sponsor has pulled out of the funding for your team. And your next payment for pool rental and upkeep is due this Friday.”

“I-I understand, sir. I will make payment on time, nevertheless.”

“Good.” The call cuts off abruptly, and Seokjin is left staring blankly at the white walls of the hallway outside the wards.

Another buzz from his phone jolts him out of his trance, and he raises it to glance at the screen.

[5.09pm] Landlord: rent due this friday [5.09pm] Landlord: latest. [5.09pm] Landlord: no more extensions.

Seokjin spits out a curse and kicks the nearest bench, stubbing his toe in the process.

Jimin swallows hard as he watches Jeongguk fight back tears, not a trace of his usual cockiness and overconfidence to be found. Guilt sits like a stone at the bottom of his stomach, because he knows that all this happened partially because of him. Seokjin had to put more pressure on Jeongguk because he had to sit out on this game.

He approaches the other side of the bed, across from you and reaches out to carefully ruffle the younger boy’s hair with a fond smile. “You punk, you really scared us, you know.”

Jeongguk emits a half-hearted chuckle as he looks up at his hyung. “Because I nearly lost the match, or because I got my ass handed to me by those Riverside shitheads?”

“Neither, you know what I mean, brat. Don’t make me spell it out for you,” Jimin shoots back without any real heat in his voice, and Jeongguk lets a genuine smile cross his lips for the first time since he’s woken up, before its replaced with a sleepy yawn.

“You better rest up, okay? Don’t worry about Seokjin hyung, I’ll take care of him.” Jimin is perceptive enough to notice the tension that Jeongguk was harbouring the entire time Seokjin was in the room, along with his refusal to meet his eyes. “We still need you on the team, Kook. You better get your ass back to the gym asap, if not I can’t guarantee that I won’t surpass your benchpress record.”

Jeongguk gives him a wry grin in response. “Without me spotting your pathetic ass, hyung? No chance in hell.”

Jimin follows you out of Jeongguk’s ward, eyes on your back as you flip through a few of the charts on your clipboard. He waits until you finish scribbling something down before he clears his throat and gathers his courage about him like a cloak.

“Was that what you and Jeongguk were talking about in the kitchen that time? When I walked in on the two of you?” It isn’t exactly what he intended to ask, at least not in such a direct manner, but the words come out before he can stop them.

You turn around to meet his eyes, taking in his slightly remorseful expression. “Yeah, but he didn’t really get into the details of it, just kind of broached the topic with me.”

Jimin reaches to scratch the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment as he recalls the way he nearly interrogated you about your relationship with Jeongguk. “I-I’m sorry I overreacted that time. When I asked you if you liked him.”

“It’s fine Jimin, don’t worry about it,” you give him a smile as you squeeze his arm gently, making his heart leap into his throat from the contact. “And don’t feel too bad about what happened today either. I know you’re tempted to blame yourself for having to sit out the game today, but it’s not your fault, because it would have happened sooner or later. His anxiety attacks have been going on for some time now, so it has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“I know, but I should have paid closer attention to him, should have seen the signs, should have taken better care of him as his hyung-“

“Anxiety doesn’t have a face, Jimin,” you stop him before he can go down that slippery road of non-stop self-flagellation, something you’re already all too familiar with yourself. “People who have anxiety or depression aren’t always anxious or depressed, they have good days and they have bad days. It’s just hard to see the signs because all we know and see are their good days, not their bad days where they can barely deal with themselves, not to mention letting someone else in.”

“Can we try to help them make the good days outnumber the bad days?”

“We can try, Jimin.”

Being in your line of work means that you spend about 90% of your whole life always being tired and wanting to sleep, so the dark circles under your eyes aren’t anything new to Yoongi when he looks up from his phone to see you entering the house that night.

But there’s something else beyond the weariness in your eyes that makes him pause his game and eye you a little more carefully.

“Long shift? I thought you had the day off.”

You glance up from the doorway where you’re peeling off your socks and shoes. “Yeah, I did, but something came up. Jeongguk got hurt.”

Yoongi sits up immediately upon hearing this, because if anything, he’d expect it to be Jimin who got in trouble, not Jeongguk. “During the game? Shit, what happened?”

“He had an panic attack in-game and his opponents took advantage of it,” you rub your eyes wearily even as you take in Yoongi’s surprise. “Apparently he’s been having anxiety attacks for a while now, so…”

“Fuck, I didn’t know.” Yoongi can only slump back in his seat as he tries to remember the last thing he’d said to Jeongguk, tries to remember if there had been anything odd about his behaviour of late, but comes up short. “How is he now?”

“He’s fine, just in the hospital resting. He had a minor concussion, but it shouldn’t be too serious. It’s more of his anxiety that needs attention now.”

“You’ll fix him up, yeah?” Yoongi meets your eyes from across the room, relieved when you answer him with a nod. If he trusts anyone with that kid, it’s you, and it’s only because he knows how amazing you are at what you do. You managed to bring someone like him back from the brink of no return, as unsalvageable and beyond redemption as he was, after all.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, someone was looking for you just now while you weren’t in,” Yoongi mentions casually as he goes back to his phone.

“Really? Who was it?” You don’t pay him much attention even as you rummage around the fridge, looking to throw something together for a late dinner to satisfy your ravenous hunger. The contents of the fridge are miserable, and you decide that you have to settle for last night’s leftovers of fried rice.

“A Jung Hoseok.”

The sound of the name stops you in your tracks, and your grip tightens around the metal bowl, knuckles turning white even as your heart leaps into your throat. Praying that you’d somehow misheard him, you turn slowly to face the older boy in the living room.

“Wh-what was his name again?”

“Jung Hoseok. D’you know him?”

“N-no, I don’t.” The lie lodges itself in your throat, and suddenly, it’s a lot harder to breathe.

Yoongi hums in thought, cursing under his breath when he fails his current level again. “The guy seemed to know you though. He was really desperate to talk to you, even asked for your number.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. “You didn’t give it to him did you?”

Yoongi snorts derisively in response, “No, do you think I’m an idiot? I wouldn’t give your number to any stranger who asks for it. Give me some credit.”

You’re too shaken up by the sudden mention of Jung Hoseok to respond to his quips, so you shove the bowl of rice back into the fridge, suddenly not that hungry anymore. You mutter a thanks to Yoongi, heading straight for your room before he can notice the strange look on your face and the distress that settles itself between your eyebrows.

You sink down at your desk shakily, reaching over to open your laptop and searching through your work folders until you find the one you want, clicking to open it.

Jung Hoseok, DOB 18 February 1994. Admitted on 15 January 2015 for Munchausen Syndrome. Symptoms: feigns physical symptoms of illnesses in order to draw attention, sympathy or reassurance from others Psychiatrist in charge: Resident Bae Suzy/ ______ (shadowing intern) Referred to Seoul National Hospital for further treatment on 21 August 2015 Reason: Formed emotional attachments to his doctors, condition worsened as a result.

Just reading the words on his document is enough to bring back every single memory of him, and suddenly it feels as if you’re back to where you were 2 years ago. When you close your eyes you can almost remember how his lips felt like on yours, how his hands ached to worship every single inch of you and the way he’d hold you close to his chest, murmuring that you were everything he ever needed, ever wanted, ever loved.

But they were only empty words and emptier promises, and you should have known better than to get involved with one of your patients, but how could you when he felt like he was your entire world? The validation that kept you going through endless nights of graveyard shifts, the promise of a warm pair of arms waiting for you at the end of them, and the assurance that he would always be there to chase away that aching loneliness?

You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed as you sit there, paralyzed in the regrets of the past, but an insistent knocking interrupts your journey down memory lane, and Park Jimin peeks in hesitantly.

He bites his lip when he takes in the harrowed and slightly dazed look on your face, but you blink rapidly and smile vacantly at him.

“Oh, hi Jimin, did you need anything?”

“Um no, Yoongi-hyung just wanted me to tell you that Jung Hoseok is here again, and he’s looking for you.” He notes the way you immediately tense up at the mention of his name, and he’s never seen you so on edge before. “Yoongi-hyung also says that if you don’t want to see him, just say so.”

You rise shakily to your feet, wiping your suddenly sweaty palms on the fabric of your shorts.

“_____? Are you okay? Do you need me to tell him to fuck off?” Jimin takes a step into your room, eyes wide with concern as he reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, but his words sound far away and distant. “I can go out there and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget, Jeongguk taught me this one move where-“

“I-it’s fine Jimin, I’ll just step out and see him for a second,” you smile weakly at him.

“Are you sure?” Jimin isn’t convinced and you watch as he pushes his faded blonde hair back to reveal his forehead that’s creased with worry. “Is he dangerous, did he hurt you? Do we need to call the police? Is he stalking you?”

Maybe it’s the way he’s tripping over his words out of his concern for you, or the way he grips your shoulder as if to make sure that you’re indeed here, in front of him. But you suddenly feel an urge to reach over and wrap your arms around his waist; to reassure him or comfort yourself, you’re not sure. But you give in to the urge, feeling his solid, warm body against yours as you slip your arms around his slim waist, and the hardness of his chest under your cheek makes your anxious heartbeat slow down just a tad.

“It’s okay, Jimin, I’ll be okay,” you mumble into his chest, drawing back and tilting your head up to give him a small smile.

“Okay,” he says reluctantly. “But I’ll be here if anything happens, if you ever need me.”

He reaches out to squeeze your hand, and there’s something about his gaze that warms you from the inside out.

“I know.”

The sight of him is still has your heart racing, although for entirely different reasons now.

Jung Hoseok is waiting on the steps right outside your apartment when you step out, and upon seeing you, he lights up with a smile that resembles a beacon illuminating the stormiest of waters. You hesitantly take a step closer to him, but remain on the top step, watching as his expression dims noticeably when he registers the amount of space that you leave in between you.

“H-Hoseok, how are you?”

His face falls when you call him by that name, and it serves as a reminder that he’s no longer what he used to be to you.

“I’m good,” he acknowledges, even as the hope in his chest continues to burn on, because it has to be a good sign that you’re willing to see him like this again, even after how things ended, right?

“How did you find me?”

“I saw you at one of my friends’ water polo tournaments for the first time last month,” Hoseok admits as he shifts on his feet nervously. “So I kept showing up to every single match, hoping you’d be there again, but you weren’t. I asked around to see if anyone knew you, but no such luck… until today, when one of the players got injured and I saw you rush down to him. Then my friend told me you’d recently moved in with one of his teammates, the same one who got injured, and…” He pauses as his eyes find yours in the darkness, alight with the flame of a rekindled hope.

“I’ve been trying to see you again for the longest time.”

There was a time where those exact words would fill you with the sense of belonging that you so craved, provide the emotional validation that you lusted after, but now they only remind you of the hollow emptiness that sits in the middle of your chest.

“Hoseok…” The ache in your throat makes it hard to get his name out, like how he remains engrained into your consciousness even after all this time. “You don’t love me, never loved me. I was just… convenient for you. Happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

The reality of your words said out loud; the past two years summed up so carelessly and easily like this resonates as an undeniable truth that you’d spent a better part of your waking hours trying to run from, and it hits you right where it hurts.

You’re not good enough to be loved. He chose you because of the attention you gave him, and not for you. You’re not enough, not enough, not enough-

“No! I truly loved- love you,” his eyes are imploring as he steps forward, closing the distance between you with a desperation in his eyes that makes your heart ache all over again. “I’m all better now, I promise, I’m taking my medication and all, and-“

“I don’t want you anymore, Hoseok.”

He stops right in his tracks, and the look in his eyes is the exact same one you remember two years ago when you ended things after finding him in bed with your then supervisor and mentor who’d you been shadowing. It was then that you’d found out that he’d also been saying and doing the exact same things to Bae Suzy, all in return for the affection and attention he lacked as a child, and the bitter memory makes you wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“But I’m better now,” his voice cracks even as he struggles to pull himself together, offering you a hopeful smile in the midst of the tears that threaten to spill over. “And I want us to try again.”

He crosses the distance in a flash, jogging up the remaining steps between you, and then you’re enveloped back into familiar arms once more. The irrational part of your brain is telling you to just give in and fall back into him again, because it’s nice to be needed, wanted like this; never mind that your attention is replaceable.

But with an unnameable strength that you didn’t even know you had, you push him away and give him a sad smile. “You don’t want me either, Hoseok. You never did. Goodnight.”

“Wait! _____, I-“

But you don’t stay to hear the rest of his sentence as the door closes behind you.

Park Jimin is waiting with worry etched onto his angelic features, and he looks up immediately once you step inside. He’s by your side at once, taking in the blank despondency in your eyes, the look of renewed heartbreak written all over your face, taking your icy hands into his own, and asking if Hoseok tried anything. If he needs to go out and take things into his own hands, if Hoseok had hurt you somehow.

He did, but it’s not something that can be fixed.

And maybe you’ll regret this in the morning, but right now Jimin is warm and comforting, a sturdy fortress of protection and sheltering walls that beckons. You’re tired of fighting against irrationality, tired of being so lonely all the time, so you pull him in by the neck of his sweatshirt, and when your lips collide with his own pillowy ones, they feel like home, he feels like home.

Fuck this, you’ll definitely regret this in the morning.

#bangtan bookclub #bangtanwriters-net #kwriterskollection #btswriters #btsmaknaenet #bts #bts scenario #bts ot7 #bts park jimin #bts jeon jungkook #bts jimin scenarios #bts x reader

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comicteaparty · 4 years

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April 25th-May 1st, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from April 25th, 2020 to May 1st, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is your warm-up routine before you write or draw something related to your story?

Page, Rambler Extraordinaire!

Honestly? I don’t have a formal warm-up, but I definitely like to have my fingers all warmed-up and ready for lots of typing! I really need to get in the mindspace for the particular image/idea being portrayed, though.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

1) Seek out music that matches the energy of the page, 2) Draw some circles/spirals/hatchmarks to loosen up, 3) Pick the easiest thing on the page and finish it first to build momentum, 4) Repeat Ad Infinitum

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

-listen to music from my playlist -read some fanfics -watch YouTube videos from my subscription -get some tea -stretch/workout -wear my comfiest clothes

CalimonGraal(Fenauriverse)

i'm also another one that listens to music before doing story stuff. (sometimes either is a favorite song/song i'm obsessed with atm or one that matches the current scene)

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I usually reread my comic so far and listen to some music I associate with it to get me in the mindset and excited for it

eli [a winged tale]

I have a warm up character to go to! Usually I try for some gestures before getting right back to the panels. It gets the rustiness out of the way for me!

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Ooh I love your warm ups, Eli!

eli [a winged tale]

Thank you! It’s easier for me to get into a routine when I have something fun to draw first (with zero expectations)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I don't always need a warm up, but doing panel borders for HoK makes for an excellent warm up. It gets my brain switch gears to comic mode. Music is great, but I only turn it on for important moments (or illustrations outside of comic). There are certain moods that... recur in important moments in my story, and I have playlists for those. e.g. 'sad emotional intimacy'

eli [a winged tale]

I love how music influences our work! I would love to hear all your playlists if you have them easy to share

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

ooooh @eli [a winged tale] i like the motion in your warmups! They're very fluid and nice to look at @keii’ii (Heart of Keol) Keii, I agree with separating playlists for moods! I usually just group them all in my favourites and mentally search for them

DanitheCarutor

Gosh I'm one of the most boring people. Lol I don't have a routine, I don't need one since I'm always in comic mode. Like, all I ever draw is comic pages. I don't have a script or anything that requires writing, so no need for a warm-up for that. I just jump right into it.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Sounds like you live on the edge which is the opposite of boring 8)

eli [a winged tale]

DanitheCarutor

I dunno, it would be cool to do warm-up drawing. That would sure help for gesture/color/anatomy practice. I just don't have the time, a page takes about 4 days to finish without outside distractions, so I have to get to work right away.

eli [a winged tale]

If you can jump right in, that’s great! For me otherwise I just stare at the inks and wish it would colour itself

DanitheCarutor

Ffff I'm like that with dynamic shots where the perspective points are off the page, and I have to tape scrap paper to it, and sometimes my ruler isn't long enough. Working in a traditional medium can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Lol

This panel is a good example.

Top view perspective lines went way off the page, I hate it.

Anyways, that's my complaint for the day.

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

When I draw warm ups. This was of my 'for practice' comic art. I wanted to practice the vertical scroll storytelling. A lady gets her purse string cut, and the thief runs off. Whenever I want to figure out action scenes, I do little character interactions. It helps me learn more about certain character behavior(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Nice! Practice comics are great!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

yeah it's really good too!

it's also a great way to possibly have new stories/series

kinda like.....brainstorming, but applied

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Thank you Eli, Shadow. I try to combine my knowledge of storyboarding, since vertical scroll sequences, are similar to that in some regards.(edited)

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

I.... Don't do warm up. I just... Start drawing(edited)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

dang Holmea you living the risky life

that's brave

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

I am pretty sure of my skill. Should I warm up?? Could be super to start warm ups! I check my mail, find out how we are doing online with our comic and just begin to draw. I guess since I have done it professionally as a 2d animator, and there is not really time to warm up, that I have learned to just start

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I do warm ups for everything! though what I define as warmups depend on each creator. For me, it begins with stretches and sketching, ill doodle things i need to get out of my head so i'm not distracted by those ideas- they usually involve studies, certain character interactions, or thumbing out pieces I want to tackle later! I may sure to draw everyday to flex that too, so its also important to be able to relax those creative muscles with some pre-work!

also! my warm ups vary with what medium i work in. if Im working in watercolours, i practice fine pencil work and get my lines as loose as possible. when it's comic (so mainly inking) i do what I described above with character studies and what not

kayotics

I’m really bad at remembering to do warm ups. I should.... actually do them more, but the time I have dedicated to drawing is usually pretty limited

Deo101 [Millennium]

Because I usually finish off whatever I had been working on the day before, warmups for me are kind of the process of starting a new piece. All the sketching and thumbing to get my next idea out work pretty well for warming me up, and then I feel ready to go by the time I'm needing to do things like lines. I also get music going that fits the mood of what I'm working on, like lots of people seem to do! I also need to remember to do stretches more :/ And I usually get myself some kind of drink, tea or something, to keep me company while I work ;)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Sounds like you are pretty busy, Kayotic. Yeah warm ups can be a good practice before diving into a big illustration

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Weirdly I don't think I've ever done warmups for illustrations. Only comic work!

Probably because illustrations, I just do them whenever I feel like it, so my brain is already ready (i.e. I don't start if my brain isn't ready)

whereas comic... I can't just wait for my brain to get ready. I need to keep updating it.

Page, Rambler Extraordinaire!

Pro-tip: if you decide to not do anything and procrastinate, you don't have to warm-up!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

hmm, can't say i've really tried warming up for art before, but i've heard it can really help! What are you guys' art warm up routines?

Deo101 [Millennium]

For me it's just kinda mindless sketching til I hit what it is I wanna be doing

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Make panel borders (not really a routine though, at least I don't think it is)

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

When I do watercolor, I usually don't do warm ups unless I'm planning from thumb-> sketch ->color thumbs and figuring out local colors for watercolor then doing my watercolor flats from there

Deo101 [Millennium]

Instead of staring at a blank screen and waiting, making little circles or scribbles or drawing like. Some arms or something til, eventually, my brain thinks we're working and then it's like "ah yes! Here we go!"

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

but digitalllyyyyy I shoullddddddddd

my brain when looking at my comic: "aight time to do the thingy lmao"

Deo101 [Millennium]

If I've already got a sketch waiting to go I can jump right in though

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

idk, I should but my time is usually limited so I haven't done a warm up in a while lmao.

now I have the time, I probably would

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ohh i see

like some quick sketches

i see how that can help- whenever i'm figure drawing or drawing people in a cafe or something my later ones are always better

how is making panel borders a warm up? don't you have to do that anyways?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Lines with intent! Doesn't matter what the purpose is, same kinda thing as drawing a bunch of straight lines in a row or practicing ellipses a bit

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's something I can do with my brain turned off. While I do it, it wakes up the comic-making part of my brain

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

oh ye

Deo101 [Millennium]

Which I'd encourage doing things like drawing a ton of ellipses or straight lines, it gets your hand into the groove so you can draw stuff right the first time

Do I do it often? No But I do encourage it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ah i see keii

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

So for me, the panel borders can function like a warmup without being a "ritual." Kinda like if you're... say... hiking, walking from your parking spot to the trailhead can be a warmup even if it's not a ritual and is necessary anyway

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

ooo that's an interesting way of putting it

... man I really should consider warm ups often. I have been touching my sketchbook less and less so lmao

I do find making small thumbs and coloring them in relaxing for me, not sure that count as a warm up but its something I like doing when planning out watercolor illustrations lol

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Relaxing/chilling/ "reward after a long day" arting is also an interesting topic, though not 100% suitable for this week's question...

I find it interesting how a lot of people seem to like, make cute ship doodles, whereas I uhhh

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lineart is the easiest for me to do though. I don't have to think much about it

maybe i should like line a page as warm up?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I'll drop some examples in art share in a bit

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ooh please do(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That sounds like a good idea! Worth trying

Feather J. Fern

I actually read in a artist self care comic "Draw Stronger: Self Care of Artist" that you are supposed to stretch and stuff before you art so your body is warmed up for long periods of sitting. Things i draw before getting into main art, the one line challenge where you draw something using one line, gesture drawing warm ups, and always becuase it's something I recently been doing, is drawing a thumbs up on a page that I can erase later or keep in a sketchbook as in like "Good job "(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don't have a warm-up routine before I sit down and draw / write comics. Besides making a cup of coffee before I dive right in. (edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I don't follow rules

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

i don't really have any warm up routines. it helps that 3d art is less physically demanding than drawing. during/after my work, i try to look away from the screen and relax my eyes every so often, but i can't think of anything i specifically do before working.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Another dive-right-inner here. I mean, I do loose pencil sketches before putting down lineart, but it's not like a separate warmup drawing before the real one, it's just the start of the real one.

If my brain isn't in "comics mode" and I need to get a page done...I find a nice secluded spot, sit down with the blank sketchbook, and stare at the empty paper until ideas start clicking into place. Unrelated sketches would be a distraction at that point -- same as checking twitter, just one more excuse for my brain to focus on something other than the page.

Used to do the seclusion in local restaurants( whether it's a nice place or just a plastic fast-food table), but obviously that hasn't been an option for a while :/

varethane

My warmup is working eight hours at an unrelated job l-lol

eli [a winged tale]

Haha aw that’s a mood

Miranda

Oh boy do I feel that

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh that got real

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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