#very quick and messy practice doodle

[thekawaiifruitworld]

Thinking. 🌧

[just-null]

YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.

I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.

Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.

[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]

Vampire!

I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out

Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!

The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.

Witch!

my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...

Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!

Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.

Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.

Idol!

i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...

[Idol]

Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

ON THE FLIP SIDE....

[Not an Idol]

An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.

[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.

Doctor!

THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.

Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.

COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.

Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!

Pirate!

my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.

Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.

Corpse Bride!

my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.

Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.

Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..

Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 

[luckyartdrawer]

(Click image for better quality!)

Super quick doodles vs. Full sketches!

I wanted to see just the stark differences between my doodles and my render sketches (idk what else to call em LOL) and so I drew this for funsies and to practice my own style! -Anddd to play around with the DCA outfits o3o

vvvv More yapping and Clean Render sketch below! vvvv

The sketch is just cleaned up, not drawn over with lineart, so it's still messy but got that flowy sketchy charm!

Usually Moon is my favorite but that Sun pose and face is just PERFECT. I am so surprised at how I was able to draw that - especially so easily! I was struggling with Moon's face for a bit, so maybe that practice made Sun just come out extra noice!

You'll probably notice some interesting design choices.

Long story short, drawing the ruffles are a bit meh for me, and ironically I don't like drawing necks - which the ruffles hid.

My fix? Put absolutely NOTHING there. Magic✨✨✨

Bendy accordion torso hehe-

The pants have elastic drawstrings for 2 reasons.

1. Ease of access/adjustable. 2. I wear pants like that and they make me happy :3

I also kept forgetting to draw the ribbons, but I decided to play around with the idea of them to see if i could turn it into something fun for me. I turned them more into a wristband with dangling bells - it reminds me of paddle drums! I added them to the bottom of the pants to make the design repeat just a little. :)

Idk what possessed me to draw them so cunty but here we are. o3o

I love the goofy and stylistic mouths I use when I doodle them, but they end up looking like they don't fit right when I render, so unfortunately they disappear for the normal smile...

At least the normal smile is still very charming! ^^

[anonymouscheeses]

Goth Vaggie because how could you let her be so tasteless in the gothness bro. Please... atleast one hint at goth vaggie 😔

My other non related Vaggie redesign sort of expression sheet + goth vaggie x Charlie under cut vvvv

Didn't turn out as well as I wanted it to. I think I rushed out the sketch and tried to fix it in line art as best as I could. Soo... I love Vaggie guys. Like a normal amount yknow? So normal. (It's crazy. I kin Charlie ofc but Vaggie is literally so mmmff)

Still trying to find a consistent head shape for Vaggie sooo I'll jst practice I guess

Very VERY messy and quick doodle I shit out. Might finish one day, these new nails make digital art hard (i draw on phone and am too pussy for computer and I'm too poor for traditional art lmao so expect shit art for a bit maybe unless i thug it out fr)

PLEASE CHAGGIE JST ONE CHANCE ONE CHANCEE ONE CHA-

I love these goobers so much 💜💜

Charlie tryinna not look at booba, respect women even tho they is in bed wit you 🗣🔥

[cosmiclion]

Happy Furry Friday, I doodled the little guy again. I've been thinking of turning him into a whole OC with story and lore and all, his name's Ivan 🙂 (The irl kitty he's based on is still called Aaron, this character is just inspired by him and the breed in general). I might tweak his design a bit tho, mainly removing the eyebrows bc realistically speaking it doesn't make sense for a character with his face covered with fur to have noticeable eyebrows lmao. This started as a very quick and messy sketch on my planner to practice expressions on anthro characters, then I got a bit carried away and colored it. It's not perfect but as I said before, I'm here to have fun 🤙

[kittydoodle]

i just wanna talk a little bit about my art journey the past few years, about my mental health related to it, and about my recently rediscovered joy in art. this doesnt have any real point, id just like to share (under the cut because its pretty long lol)

for a very long time, like several years, i was deeply unmotivated and uninspired to make any art. getting out of high school and eventually quitting my first job, i just felt really depressed, and with undiagnosed psoriatic arthritis putting me in worse and worse pain every day, i was lucky if i could even physically sit down and get a doodle out.

i also held myself to secret unsaid rules about how to create my art. no starting a piece unless i intend to finish it in the same day. no creating anything that isnt fully colored and polished. no making anything that doesnt have perfect lines or proportions im perfectly satisfied with. it stunted my self expression, it took all the joy out of making my art, and it made me upset because i believed i was somehow losing my passion for making art.

i sincerely believed i was growing out of my desire to draw, forever. i was distraught and grieving. i couldnt even draw things i was excited to, i would think to myself, "wow! id love to draw this idea!" and then id sit down and think about how id have to finish a full, perfect piece, and id immediately lose my motivation. so all id ever make were full, finished pieces every once in awhile, and i was still deeply unsatisfied with them.

however, in the past 6 months or so, a few things have come together that have really restored my excitement for creating art

first, (DISCLAIMER: this is not advice! dont follow my example!) i quit my adhd meds. yes, really. i was suddenly out of them for a couple weeks and in those couple weeks i realized i felt better than i had in years, and, ironically, it was way easier for my to do chores without it. the only thing i can really think of to explain it is that i was on a stimulant medication for a very, very long time, like most of my working memory ive been on them. i guess after so long it stopped working the way it should to due to tolerance buildup and was just bogging me down instead of stimulating me.

second, i doodle, i sketch, i make quick drawings i have no intention of finishing. i allow myself not to finish or perfect a piece. i even draw random ideas i wont do anything else with, just for fun. at the advice of a few friends, i have forcefully practiced letting myself get messy and unrefined with my art so that its less intimidating, and to my surprise it actually worked.

third, i started arthritis meds and i listen to my body way better now so i can avoid inflaming and injuring myself, which makes it a lot easier to draw without pain! i even do stretches! im still working on fully effective treatment for my pain, but im doing at least a little better

i dont really know where im going with this tbh... for anyone who has followed me for a long time, uve seen this blog get quiet with little to no art posts for months and months at a time for the past few years, so i hope u are excited to see me posting more frequently again! i missed it! i hope u enjoy me now as much as im enjoying me!

im happy to be creating again and i hope i can keep my passion going! im happier now than i have been in an extremely long time, and im excited to show everyone the things ive been creating more often

umm thats all i guess! if u read this far ummmm One Big Kissaroo From Me To You okay 🩷🩷🩷 MWAH

[writ-in-violant]

💫 and 🥀 for all!

Ooh, thanks!

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

Vivian's is probably that they were roommates with the Lily -- from the Moloch Street ES -- for like, a year and a half because Vivian needed help with rent and the Lily needed to get his feet back under him after All That. They're still friends but the Lily got married and he and his husband moved in together. Vivian writes plays for his theater sometimes.

For Blake it's probably that he's adopted a teenage girl, Sara, and is excusing it to himself as her being a fantastic spy who feeds him good information. He's definitely not a father. Absolutely not. Particularly notable because, well, the exact same thing happened to him as a kid. So you'd think he'd know that this was functionally an adoption.

My favorite Art fact is probably that his dad was a sailor up on the surface who made up wild tall tales about the monsters he encountered out on the sea. He was also the one who named Art; Artemis, because he'd been listening to stories of the old greek gods and liked the idea of naming his daughter after the huntress, especially as she was pale as the moon. Course, Art didn't end up being a girl, but he liked the name Artemis so much he kept it.

For Celestine, it's that she chose the name she uses as a gentleman-thief/cat-burglar-style burglar entirely to be a joke for herself. She uses "Ciel" which is androgynous and only really gives away that the person using it knows french...but it's also pretty much just her initials, C.L. She thinks she's very funny and in her defense, she hasn't gotten caught yet, meaning it is kind of funny.

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Vivian tends to have inksmears on their journals, often in interesting colors; they write stream-of-consciousness and often include doodles or turns of phrase they find poetic or compelling. Something like this:

Blake, meanwhile, would be curt and more pragmatic, full of bullet-points and quick notations to keep track of what he's talking about. Bullet journalling doesn't exist yet but Blake would be a fan of its most pared-back form, the thing it was before it became a cutesy aesthetic. Dark journals with no ornamentation.

Art's is less a full journal and more a series of memos, disconnected notes, and tallies he's keeping that are generally labelled very poorly. Things like "context" or "most of the vowels in a word" are unnecessary and make him write slower. He's 90% sure he knows what he was talking about for most of them! It's fine! picture this page but smeared with more dirt, I didn't want to get my notebook too messy:

Celestine would realistically be writing in French, but I do not speak French and so could not pull that off. That said, she tends to use her journal as a way to practice her penmanship -- and also to make sure she has nailed down the stories she's telling about what happened. Her actual life events rarely go into the journal, and if they do, they're always veiled behind other comments.

There's probably a wider range in handwriting styles than I could capture there but alas, I am but one person, with but one type of handwriting and many fancy pen colors. One day I'll actually put OS Nitrogen ink into a pen and then we'll see Vivian's correspondence notes in violant ink.

Feel free to ask me more questions from the ask meme here: https://writ-in-violant.tumblr.com/post/727735080951463936/soft-oc-asks

[gn-bee]

Very quick doodles of Sato, Hime and Masaharu.

Some more stuff about them under the cut!

Sato had a lot of promise as a swordsmith, but his habit of taking himself too seriously sometimes held him back from receiving constructive criticism from the more seasoned smiths of the village. He was working on it. He's the kind of guy that comes off as very friendly, like one of those people who you can talk to about anything. His fellow villagers would often sit with him while he worked and just vent about everything. His sword deliveries took longer than average because his clients would do the same. He gave decent advice, and he remembered everything. He'd ask about what he was told months later.

He was Masaharu's swordsmith. Hime interrupted the whole thing, leaving both men slightly irritated.

But, hey, Hime was really pretty. Sato couldn't stay irritated at her.

Hime was a very excitable and lively young woman, but was incredibly naive about the world due to the sheltered lifestyle she and Masaharu's mother made them live. She just didn't know a lot of anything and held a lot of childlike innocence. She was very affectionate and didn't really understand physical boundaries. Her clothes rarely ever fit her properly, and she refused to wear her hair up, claiming it hurt her head. Her appearance in general was usually pretty messy. She liked to paint, and was pretty good at it. Despite her blatant immaturity, she was a very good caretaker to her dying mother, and a very good partner to Sato. And Sato enjoyed indulging in her childish whimsy.

Hime and Sato never actually lived together for extended periods of time. Sato visited her as often as possible, and there were plans for her to move to the Swordsmith Village after Ume was born and her mother finally passed, but that never happened.

Masaharu isn't as naive as Hime, but his sheltered upbringing affected him in different ways. He's painfully awkward, everyone and everything makes him nervous and uncomfortable. His mother opened their home up to traveling samurai, giving them a place to lay their head and rest (she had to feed her kids somehow, and did a good job keeping all that a secret. It wasn't until years and years later that Masaharu realized what was really going on.). Masaharu spent a lot of time watching the samurai practice their swordsmanship, until one of them eventually took him under their wing and taught him some things. He joined the Corps when his mother got sick, so he could support her and his sister. He also just desperately wanted to get out from under his mother.

Masaharu ended up raising Ume from a young age, after Sato and Hime passed (haven't decided how they died yet. Probably just got sick.). It was difficult for him, and while he loved his niece, he didn't really bond with her until she was older and showed interest in learning how to use a sword. He did his best with her, and would truly do anything for her. He did NOT want her to join the Corps. When Ume quit and went quiet and didn't return home, he was distraught.

He never married or had any children of his own. A few women attempted to court him throughout the years, but gave up because he was just so awkward that being around him was uncomfortable. He wasn't interested in women, anyway.

He got on well with Hotaru, the few times they met. Their social ineptitude bounced off each other and made for something that looked like a normal interaction.

Anyway. If you read all that, thanks (:

[bravevolunteer]

headcanon + drawing

SEND IN HEADCANON + A WORD / PHRASE FOR A RELEVANT HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE.

michael has kept up art as a hobby since he was pretty young, some of the earliest examples of enjoying this were actually based on his father's and henry's animatronics: as a kid, he used to be pretty fascinated with them, draw a bunch of them, bursting with excitement to show either of them his 'ideas,' whether it was new designs he liked to make up or collections of silly little comics. he grew more embarrassed by this the older he got, and stopped showing people his drawings, but kept up with it consistently!

he expanded the subjects of course, still keeping the cartoonish vibe but more so filling sketchbooks with lots of miscellaneous doodles. he would do this especially when he was stuck at the restaurant without any of his friends to mess around with, sketching the animatronics, decorations, and people. he keeps doing short comic-like work ( i point to the silly stylized stick figure ) and often incorporates humor, but he also ends up improving technical skills a lot too. though he doesn't deliberately practice this as much as most would recommend, he can do portraiture and anatomy pretty well ( his strengths there being the fact that he uses very loose and open strokes, so while the technical choices aren't PERFECT, his more realistic work still comes off as stylized and interesting ). he is stupidly good at animatronic and robot parts definitely from the amount of practice he's had just observing them.

he mainly uses just... pencils and pens— anything he can get his hands on rather than seeking out specific materials.

he's not a painter— michael just figures he wouldn't be any good at it, though that's more so the way he's thinking about it. he thinks he doesn't exactly have the drive to sit down for hours and meticulously craft a "real painting" ( in the heaviest of quotes ), personally i think he'd really benefit from quick-paced messy painting as an outlet.

in a similar vein, he doesn't really consider himself much of an artist because of the stereotypical connotations of the word— michael doesn't think he's really making anything worthwhile, which is why it surprises him so much when people are impressed and/or think he could pursue something creative. i am once again saying i think his art teacher was the only one he really got along with and who made him think beyond a one dimensional definition of art.

also just look at his canon doodles wahhh

[z0mbie-bunny]

quick messy vinyl scratch doodle :pp idk the last time i drew digitally this is very weird for me and I’m still trying around a lot buut drawing ponies is nice practice <33

[azul-marie]

Hehe the relationship hcs were so good!! Can I get the same but with Anne, Ryu and Hokusai, please?

hello! thanks for requesting. i’m glad you liked those earlier headcanons! i hope you like these, too. please take care. ❤️

note: fem. reader

genre: romance/fluff.

characters: anne faulkner. ryu natsume. masaki hokusai.

anne:

they are not easily romanced. anne is used to empty words and giddy glances, done with the hopes of scoring a private session without considering their thoughts on the matter. which is why he might be so taken by the lack of your nerves, lacking excitement of being with the one and only anne faulkner, who you don’t seem too eager to please. it’s as if you know of their wonder of you, this fascination they have of your nonchalance. it was like a cat and mouse game, a chase between two, back and forth then back again.

expensive, exciting dates are a guarantee when it comes to anne, but even he likes simplicity now and then; they’ve a way of turning any little activity into a date. whether it’s a quick run to the market, cleaning up messy rooms, or simply watching overdramatized reality television shows, anne makes the occasion romantic as can be. any moment spent with you is worthy of celebrating.

you’re one of his favorite models for swank. they do an excellent job at comforting/encouraging you if you’re camera-shy, and if it comes to it, anne will personally take photos of you so you trust you’re in good hands.

makeup is important to their overall style, so you’re the first to see their newest look before they go off to work or post a quick selfie online. even if you’re not the most experienced with makeup either on others or yourself, anne trusts your evaluation and takes your advice fairly seriously. they’ll also want to practice on you/help you learn if you’d like.

in a way, your casual approach comforts him. you do not seem him as an idol, someone to worship, something to lust after or want. you see them the way they’ve always wanted to be seen, like anybody wants to be seen — a person with hopes, dreams, wants and needs. a person with fragile love to give, now to you, and you alone.

ryu:

it is much too obvious, ryu’s fondness for you. to no one’s surprise, he is not subtle in the slightest. when you first met, all he could do was stare and blink and peek at you from behind counters and around corners. mysterious gifts find their way to you; pigeon feathers stuffed inside a birthday card despite it not being your birthday; plucked dandelions with roots still attached piled neatly by your doorstep; and once, a paper slip of messy doodles of hearts surrounding what you presumed was you found hidden in your purse. it was very cute. you’re not very sure how it got in there.

dates vary depending on his mood. sometimes he invites you over for lunch, which turns out to be shiki’s homework snuck onto a plate. (yohei was not amused.) or invitations for drinks, shaken and/or stirred by yours truly. (yohei won’t let him serve you any of his experiments, though.) usually, he likes exploring all over town, especially when he’s bored and doesn’t have a clue of where else to take you. prepare for a flurry of silly conversations and sore feet by the end of the day.

puzzles are a normal part of his day, mostly before bedtime so his brain’s frazzled enough to sleep. he has a variety of puzzles to choose from, and will let you choose whichever one you’d like whenever you spend the night. he might even do them with the pictures facing up, if you ask him sweetly enough.

based off his verse in “my sweetest love”, ryu thrives in excitement and chaos, his spirit a whirlwind merry-go-round you find yourself riding along on. his oddity is his charm, a magic he casts, enough to make you feel sky high up in the clouds. he’s not afraid of showing you crazy, new, exhilarating experiences, all while falling more and more for your beauty and self.

there is a sadness in his secrecy. for all his exuberance, wild laughs and bites of love, ryu is unlike anyone or anybody else. memories like puzzle pieces, unable to click together in harmony, keeps him detached from worldly places. but you are apart of this unkept world, a refuge for him to hide in. even if nothing else makes sense for him, you do. and you’re here, right at his fingertips, at the tip of his tongue.

hokusai:

his heart is fond of cute and soft things. it is no wonder he takes a liking to you, then. this began as a love between strangers, little meetings of chance. at school, where you took extra classes with him, at bus stops, riding into town together, in sunlit alleys, cuddling newborn kittens and their sleepy mama. hokusai relishes familiarity, and yours was the sweetest he’s known. he follows you anywhere you let him, a giant shadow of a puppydog, too content to chase after the outline of the one he likes the most.

dates can be as simple as sitting side-by-side on a quiet street bench, holding hands and whispering words. hokusai places time spent together higher than money or materials, both which can be lost and gained later. but time forms memories lasting, a kind to look back upon with joy. if it’s with you, it’s sure to make him happy.

wandering around town is his favorite pastime, one he introduces as a daily routine for you both. there are stops on nearly every corner on nearly every street, where stray cats bask in sunlight, bask in the gentle pats he lays on their bellies. they’ve warmed up to you a great deal, to a point they’ll let you feed them snacks from the palm of your hand. (hokusai is very proud.)

he doesn’t mind being teased by his family when they notice how enamored he is with you. they are used to his head pats and hugs and snuggles, but seeing him give shy kisses to your cheeks, seeing how softly he holds you when you spend the night, or how he insists on buying you any trinkets you like, it’s all too cute for them not to tease.

this is a simple, pure sort of love. hokusai is a man gentle of heart and mind, an undeserving outcast thrown into a cruel, sharp world. in everything he does, he hopes to soften out its edges, its points that poke, starting with him and the family he loves. now for you, too. the softest, cutest piece of this world — one he’ll cherish with his life.

[ohmyartref]

hi, i need advice

i am trying to improve my anatomy for poses (I've been drawing for nearly 10 years) and I just can't seem to get it.

I've tried figure drawings but they all look so bad, I get discouraged and I never want to do them again. And I have anatomy books but I don't know how to use them.

Right now, I'm tracing over the refs and trying to copy the pose but it's never accurate and all my artist peers point this out constantly due to its many tiny mistakes.

I don't know what to do and I'm afraid I'll never be an illustrator because I can't draw anything right. I don't know if college classes will help me out neither :(

Now, I'm not the most articulate or best at wording what I think, but I'm going to try my best, because I genuinely think this is an issue of perception and perfectionism, and not an issue of not actually growing.

Figure drawings, in my opinion at least, don't really need to look 'good'. They are meant to be quick practice that breaks the body down into simple shapes and lines of action. Generally, with a lot of figure drawing practice, you start small and with reference, 10 second sketches, to 20 second, 30, etc. They are rough, they are messy, they are practice, and honestly? Practice doesn't often look 'good' or perfect. It will look bad, it will look messy. The key with those figuring drawing practices really is to just keep doing them, no one can have enough practice and no one stops learning or is a master that is no longer in need of practice and warm ups. Repetition will help you learn and experimenting will help you develop your own style.

Tracing over a reference is a valid way of practicing and learning! If you don't already, try not relying on the tracing too much. For example: When I need a hand in a specific pose and I just can't find the reference? I will pose my own (or a friends) hand how I need, take the picture, and trace it, but the tracing is very basic, the basic shapes, the details and fine tuning I do on my own.

I didn't go to college, when it comes to art some find it helpful, some find it to be a waste, but definitely look into colleges in your area or online that might have some free classes or events that you can attend. Some places have walk in figure drawing classes, and in this post I've discussed online resources.

But again, I think perhaps the actual issue here is perfectionism and self perception. And this is coming from personal experience:

The idea of 'pretty' and 'perfect' practice drawings or figure drawings is unfortunately a negative effect of social media and perfectionism. I think most people are guilty of it- spending time on a piece that is definitely more than a sketch, posting it, and captioning it with 'quick doodle' or 'rough sketch'. It creates an illusion of something being easy, natural, seamless, 'perfect' for other artists viewing it, and though no one should compare themselves to the work of another, I know we're all guilty of doing it.

I know I am extremely guilty of perfectionism, its something I tackle a lot with my therapist. This I think might be a useful resource and group of module work books to help anyone dealing with perfectionism, these are the exact ones I use and they are free! Sometimes we are our own worst enemies with growth, and we're the ones that stop ourselves from growing the most with our feelings of discouragement. I know it can really suck when artist peers critique and point out mistakes, sometimes it can come from a place of wanting to help and sometimes it just sucks. I certainly get discouraged, much like you're talking about, its important to focus on yourself, and your own goals rather than the opinions of others unless you are asking them specifically for advice.

Its not always easy to combat discouragement and those feelings of perfectionism, but I believe that you can! You can absolutely be an illustrator! There are so many professionals and illustrators that have struggled just like this or who took their time getting into the field. You can absolutely do it!!

[accioxreparo]

ink stains

synopsis: soulmate au in which every mark that appears on your body also appears on your soulmate’s body including, as you discover one day, drawings. Needless to say you’re determined to make your soulmate smile, even if you haven’t found them yet.

pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi I’m late to the party but @thoseofgreatambition is doing a soulmate theme night and I’m a ho for soumate au’s so hopefully mine is decent enough lol also I may or may not be writing one for fred too but it’s taking me ages so 

tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b

~~~~~~

When you were six years old you woke up one morning to dark stains splattered all over your face and arms. You were confused and quickly grew panicked, absolutely positive that you had contracted Dragon Pox overnight. It had taken an hour for your dad to calm you down enough so he could explain with a small grin that your soulmate must’ve spilled an inkwell on themselves. 

“What do you mean?” You had asked with wide, curious eyes.

“Well,” Your dad had reached for the bedside table and picked up a quil. “Everybody has a soulmate, Y/N. One day you start being able to see the marks that appear on your soulmate's body, permanent or temporary. For you, that day happens to be today.” He dipped the quil in a well filled with bright blue ink and handed it to you. “Why don’t you give it a try? Write your soulmate a message.”

“What if they don’t write back?” You had frowned then, suddenly worrying that maybe this mystery person on the other end would want nothing to do with you. 

“Well that’s okay,” Your dad had been quick to reassure you. “They might not be able to see the marks yet. But one day they will and I just know they’ll be ecstatic to know you’re here.”

After that day there was a constant stream of doodles all over you. Vines snaking up your ankle. Twisting patterns winding around your fingers. Planets and stars littering your collarbone area. Stripes of random colors all over your palms as you mixed new colors. The most detailed pictures were always on your left arm though, that was where you practiced new drawings. 

Occasionally you wrote a message but mostly you drew. Then one day you bought a book about charms to cast on drawings in Flourish and Blotts and you begged your dad every chance you got to cast them for you. After that at least a few pictures were always moving up and down your body.

When you got your very own wand at the age of eleven they were the first spells you practiced. By the end of your first year at Hogwarts you had mastered the whole book. Since then there was always a constant supply of different colored inks in your bag and pockets. The array of multicolored moving pictures that changed every day was your one connection to your soulmate. 

They had yet to write back. 

It had been ages since you first found your connection to your soulmate. You’d dealt with scars and bruises and occasional scribbled reminders but never once had you ever received even an acknowledgment of anybody seeing your drawings. 

You tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But it seemed like every single person around you had known their soulmate for years, in one way or another. Some days the smile you wore wasn’t quite genuine, the longing you felt growing a little deeper at times, but never once did you fail to decorate your limbs with gentle reminders that you were there for your soulmate to find on themselves. 

Not until that day. You were set to leave for school the next morning and your father had taken the week off of work to see you off. The two of you, your older brother, and your younger sister were probably too focused on the quidditch match you had going against each other in the backyard of your house. So much so that the bludger hit your way completely blindsided you. 

The match ended with panicked shouts, a trip to St. Mungos, and your left arm wrapped tightly in cloth bandages as it rested in a sling while your bones healed. 

It was only when you were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that the strangest thing happened. Words scrawled in letters that weren’t your own had appeared on your right arm. 

Nothing new today? 

As you stared at the writing with wide eyes, more words appeared underneath those. 

I’m sure this is bending the rules but I had to know. Something’s wrong isn’t it?

Frantically you dumped out the contents of your bag, scattering them all over the floor of the compartment. You dug around the mess you had made until you found a self-inking quil. Just as you were about to write your response you caught sight of the bandages on your arm and gave a defeated sigh. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up and saw Luna, a friend of yours a couple years below you, watching you with an amused smile. The two of you would always sit up late in the common room together, swapping theories and stories about anything and everything. 

“If you don’t mind,” You gave her a sheepish look and she only smiled before moving to sit next to you. 

“What would you like me to write?” Luna asked as she took the quil out of your hand. You smiled and told her, watching as she took your arm and wrote out your words for you. 

What makes you think something is wrong?

It was seconds later when you received your response. 

Not once in the six years since I’ve been able to see your drawings have you let a day pass where you don’t add new ones. What’s wrong? 

A smile graced your face and Luna was kind enough to help you continue the conversation happening on your arm. 

I’m fine. Just a Quidditch injury. I’ll have the bandages removed by tonight, don’t worry. 

Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt longer than you have to, love.

You were sure it was cheating, talking to your soulmate by writing messages on your arm. But if whatever soulmate forces were out there didn’t want you to talk to them then there shouldn’t have been such a simple loophole. 

That’s what comforted you late that night, now gently scrawling messy words quickly on your arm that had been broken only the day before. Never before had you been more thankful for Skele-Gro. 

Can I ask you something?

The print you wrote with was small on purpose, trying to keep as much room available as possible. It didn’t stop you, however, from doodling new little pictures on the back of your hand. 

Go for it.

Why haven’t you ever said anything before? Why now?

You stared at the words you had written for a few moments before sighing and heading to the bathroom that was connected to your room. Only after staring at the words covering both arms now for a minute or two did you start washing away the ink you had put there. 

For a minute you thought that you shouldn’t have asked. You stood in silence, watching as the remainder of the ink, the part written in your soulmates handwriting, was slowly washed away leaving only faint ink stains. Then to your relief a response came after it was all gone. 

I was worried. And let’s just say I’m not as artistic as you are, my talents lie in other places. 

For a second the writing stopped but then more words appeared, quicker than they had before. 

Also I may have missed seeing you draw new pictures for me a little too much.

You beamed at the words and walked back to your bed. After the curtains were pulled around it you lit the end of your wand and picked up your quil again. 

Do you like them? The pictures. 

The response was almost immediate. 

I love them.

***

“Miss Y/L/N.” 

You jumped in your seat at the sound of a voice calling your name. Slowly you looked up from where you were taking notes on nonverbal spells. Professor Flitwick stood only a few feet away with an exasperated look on his face. Meanwhile both of the Weasley twins sat at their desk looking quite satisfied with whatever they had just done. 

You’d been correct to assume they were behind whatever loud noise had been going on only minutes before. The desk the twins were sitting at was now charred and the other Gryffindors surrounding them were chatting excitedly about whatever it was you missed while your nose was buried in your charms book. 

Neither Fred or George Weasley missed the fact that you were trying and failing to keep back an amused smile.  

“You’ll be getting a new partner to do your project with,” Professor Flitwick lifted his wand and with a single flick a bag and a pile of unused textbooks was flying across the room and into the empty space next to you. “Mr. Weasley.” 

Both boys stood at the same time wearing matching smirks and chorused, “Yes, Professor?” 

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh when Professor Flitwick sighed and shook his head upon realizing that he really should have seen that coming. “Mr. George Weasley. Come meet your new partner.” 

Oddly enough said person didn’t look disappointed by the new assignment at all. Instead he grinned as he approached you, sliding into the chair beside you easily. 

You could count the number of times you had spoken to George Weasley on one hand. The first time had been during potions when he’d asked to borrow some foxglove for a pompion potion. It wasn’t the potion you’d been assigned to brew but you hadn’t questioned it. The second time he’d walked up to you and your friends after a quidditch match to congratulate Ravenclaw on their victory against Slytherin despite the fact that none of you were on the team. And the third time was only a few weeks before when he asked to borrow a spare quil in transfiguration. 

You doubted he remembered any of that though. 

“So partner,” George leaned on the desk, head resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. “What do you know about,” He reached over to look at the piece of parchment you’d been taking your notes on. “Nonverbal spells? That’s our topic?” 

“It is,” You nodded and reached for your notes, hoping he wouldn’t flip over the parchment to see the drawings you’d absentmindedly doodled during the lecture. “Is that a problem?” 

“Not at all,” George’s smile turned softer then as he stared at you, a fact which you noticed. You turned away quickly as you felt your face burn, hoping silently that it wasn’t too noticeable. “On the contrary. From what I hear you’ve already mastered a few nonverbal spells yourself Y/N, dearest.”

You froze then, not sure which revelation surprised you more. The fact that apparently you had developed a reputation without you knowing or the fact that George Weasley of all people knew your name. 

You tried your hardest to fight the temptation to ask how he knew you and why. 

“Class is almost over,” Your words came out rushed and a little too loud to sound natural. It wasn’t a complete lie. In just ten minutes you’d all be dismissed and that was hardly enough time to make even a small dent into your project. “We should meet sometime before our next class to get started if we want to have it done by the due date.”

“You’re so...ravenclaw,” George spoke after a few moments. When you looked at him again he was still giving you that same soft smile, a different sort of glint in his eyes than the one you were used to seeing every now and then.

For a second your thoughts drifted to the words scrawled on your right arm and the pictures on your left. They were covered up by the sleeves of your sweater as they usually were but you could picture the words you and your soulmate had written to each other earlier that day clearly. 

“Is that a bad thing?” You found yourself asking, for some strange reason not being able to bring yourself to pull away from George’s gaze. 

“No,” He shook his head gently almost immediately. “It’s perfect.”

***

You had to give credit where credit was due. When it came down to it, George Weasley could in fact step up to the plate. 

Even now, an early Sunday morning the day after a trip to Hogsmeade, he sat right in front of you. 

You knew for a fact he had been up late the previous night causing his usual mischief alongside his brother. One of the Ravenclaw prefects had been patrolling the halls and you overheard him complaining about having to send the twins back to their dorm for the fourth day in a row when he entered the common room.

It had made you smile. 

You’d spent at least a couple hours each day alongside George for the past two and a half weeks. Some of that time had indeed been spent on your project but you found it easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. You couldn’t even begin to count the variety of tales he told you just to hear you laugh.

That, however, meant that the two of you had developed a tendency to avoid your work resulting in you being behind. The next day the two of you would have to present in front of the class. You had already gotten away with postponing the presentation twice. 

The first time you had told Professor Flitwick that you needed more time to gather as much information as the topic deserved. The second time George had eaten one of the products he had told you he was working on, one he called a nosebleed nougat. It had worked like a charm and the moment you left the classroom with him he ate another candy and it stopped.

It was the only reason the two of you had woken up at that godforsaken hour of the morning on a Sunday. There was simply no other option now.

“I think all of our research is done and I can write up some notes for us to remember during the presentation,” You reached for another roll of parchment from your bag to do just that before dipping your quil in an inkwell filled with bright blue ink. “But we still need to practice some nonverbal spells for the practical demonstration. What do you think we should -”

It wasn’t until you looked away from the pile of books in front of you and at George that you realized he had dozed off.  His head was resting on his arms which were crossed on the desk in front of him and he looked almost peaceful for once. 

The corner of a piece of parchment was sticking out from under one of his arms and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you leaned forward until you could reach the parchment and you began to sketch a field of flowers on the paper in various ink colors. 

You didn’t notice your own smile as you did so. 

Then the end of your quil brushed across George’s face and he almost immediately bolted up in his seat. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes once more he looked over only to find you biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing. 

“You look suspicious,” George narrowed his eyes at you playfully when he saw the look on your face, still not noticing the addition to his parchment. 

“Do I?” You smiled then as you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms in front of you. 

“You do,” He leaned forward on the desk again and the grin you’d come to see on a regular basis returned. “May I ask why?” 

“No reason at all. I’m just excited to learn some nonverbal spells is all,” You laughed as you stood from your seat, squinting a little at the late morning sun shining through the windows. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go search for some books a friend of mine recommended with some spells we could use.” 

“Do we not have enough of those here?” George said as he glanced at the pile of no less than seven books, none of which he could remember anything about. 

“Those are all on history and theory. We need something on practical application.” 

“Right,” George let out a sigh as he reached for one of the unopened books. “You’re lucky I like you. I can’t remember the last time I did this much reading for a project.” 

You hummed and then shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t I feel honored.” 

“Just get on with it,” George glanced up from the pages of the book he’d been flipping through and at you again, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Faster we finish with this, the sooner we can sneak into the kitchens for a late breakfast.” 

You were quick to agree. George watched as you disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. It was only when he was sure you were gone that he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and reached for a quil, quickly scribbling a message to his soulmate on his right arm. 

When he was done writing the message he caught sight of the flowers that you had drawn on the corner of his parchment and he grinned. Almost absentmindedly he started drawing flowers around your own, albeit a little simpler than the designs you had made. It took a minute for his eyes to widen, quil falling out of his hand, realizing that the flowers you had drawn on the paper he had already seen dozens of times before. In fact, a variation of them sat on his left arm now.

***

Finally four hours later you and George sat in the kitchens which you’d found surprisingly empty. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone and the two of you had gladly accepted a variety of foods from a couple of the house elves. 

You were completely oblivious to the way George was studying you closely, trying as hard as he could to see if he was right. 

“Puddlemere United,” He said when he caught sight of the patch sewn onto the jacket you were wearing. “I take it you’re a fan?” 

“I sort of have to be,” You laughed a little when you saw the confused look flash on George’s face. “My dad is Puddlemere’s captain.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, promise,” You smiled as you shook your head. Without hesitation you pulled off your jacket, flipping it around so the back was visible, and pointed to a navy blue crest with the Puddlemere United logo and the word ‘captain’ across it in bold, golden letters. “Has been for a few years now and here’s your proof.” 

But when you looked at George he wasn’t looking at the jacket at all. Instead he was staring at the variety of words and pictures covering your arms. You could see his eyes darting back and forth and quickly pulled your arm away and under the table. 

“Wait,” He reached across the table and took your hand in his, slowly turning your arm around so he could see all every single stroke of ink. You could only watch as he gently traced the designs with his free hand. 

The moment was soft, intimate in the purest way. You swore you could hear your own heart thumping louder each second that passed. It reached its peak when George placed your arm on the table in front of the two of you only to pull off the sweater he’d been wearing. It was then that the breath you were holding in left you. 

Every single ink stain on your arms was perfectly reflected on his. Now that you looked closer you wondered how you hadn’t recognized his handwriting right away, you’d spent the last few months writing back and forth after all. You’d been so focused on the drawings and the writing that you hadn’t noticed what, or rather who was right in front of you. 

“I knew it was you, you know.” 

Your laugh was light when you finally dared to look at George once more. He was looking at you with pure and utter adoration and you were positive you wore the same expression. “Did you now?” 

“I did,” George grinned as he took your hand again, more confident than he had previously been. “Remember our first year when I asked you for that foxglove? I was supposed to nick it from one of the shelves but you had your sleeves rolled up and I swore I saw the edge of the stars you had drawn earlier that day. I went to get a closer look but they were covered again.” 

“And I suppose it was the same thing in transfiguration a month ago?” You shook your head with an amused smile as you thought back to the encounter. It all seemed so obvious now.

“It was. Same thing with the quidditch match a few years ago too,” He leaned forward as if what he were about to tell you were a secret. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t let you go, not that he’d ever want to now that he’d finally found you. “What made me almost certain though was the little drawing you left on my parchment earlier. I knew I’d seen those before.” 

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve kept your eyes open unlike me apparently,” You were beaming as you glanced down at the matching pictures present on both of you. “What do we do now?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” George immediately stood, pulling you up with him. He grabbed hold of your jacket still sitting on the table and started pulling you out of the kitchens. “Now that we’ve found each other we’re going to make up for lost time.” 

“By doing what exactly?” You asked, eyebrows raised questioningly and a slight smirk on your face. 

“Head out of the gutter, love,” George laughed as the two of you walked back up the stairs still hand in hand. He looked down at you with a wild grin on his face. “We’re going on our first date if you’re up for it.” 

You agreed instantly and happily followed to wherever it was George would take you, just as you knew you always would from that moment on.

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? II // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: After playing The Orpheum things were looking up, Sunset Curve bought the house that owned the studio the band used. Alex lived in a safe environment will only love, Reggie didn’t feel like a ghost in his house and Luke was no longer sleeping on a couch. Life is good until it isn’t.

Warnings: Swearing, accident, injuries, angst, car accident (this was written before If I Stay)

Words: 2.7k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be more parts, total coincidence that it has a car accident. Also appears when I try solely fluff it turns into painful angst. My apologies, the next part will be better but also prepare for it too.

A/N: Sorry for disappearing. I have Lost Time Part 2 finished, If I Stay Part 2 is also finished but I really want to put a new part out for What If...? so here you go!

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood, 1996

A hot cup of your morning brew cradled in your hand you stared out the window to the garage where Sunset Curve had practiced for years. A year had passed since The Orpheum; the band got signed to a label with an EP being dropped. The moment money came to the band Luke, Alex and Reggie had pooled money to buy the house the garage belonged to. You just happened to be over a lot still being seventeen.

“Hey,” Luke spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body tight against yours. His chin resting on your shoulder as his hand swiped the mug to take a swig from it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t sound so offended.” Luke chuckled, “I’ve tasted other things that belong to you.”

“Disgusting.” Alex gagged walking by the couple with distaste written clearly all over his face. He adored you two together, but he didn’t like the activities that you frequently did behind closed doors.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play wrestle in the middle of the night.” Reggie scoffed heading up the stairs to his room while Alex blinked after him.

“I- and he wonders why he’s still single.” Alex sighed, heading to the living room to watch a film whereas Bobby was grabbing a quick drink before leaving. The only member of the band that didn’t live in the house but then again, he didn’t have issues with his parents; well if he did, he never told anyone else.

A snicker fell from your lips as a deep chuckled vibrated through the body courtesy of Luke’s close quarters with you. His arms tightened when you shifted in his arms, glancing at his watch before you pushed the mug back into his hand.

“Gotta go.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek and freeing yourself from his warm embrace to nab the bag from the chair. Luke released a whine detesting the emptiness in his arms, “As much as I would have to stay and cuddle all day, I have plans.”

Luke released a long sigh with a nod glancing as Bobby’s gaze fixated your form heading for the front door. He snapped out of it when Luke hit his chest.

“C’mon man! That’s my girl.” Luke scoffed, making his way for the stairs, “Go, home, dude.”

Bobby did as he was told glancing up at the ceiling where each boy would be in their bedrooms until practice later that night. Bobby couldn’t help that he found you attractive, but he would never step over the line with his bandmate. You were already gone when Bobby got outside and the harsh glare on the back of his head from Luke.

Lance had picked up his daughter itching to play you the bones of the new song he had recorded with the band. It was by far his favourite one given that it was centered on you growing up which he both hated and loved. He had missed more of your life than he cared to admit so it is the last year before you would leave the house, he had taken a break from touring.

“It’s not fully finished. The working title is Bittersweet.” Your father spoke glancing over, “It’s slower than our usual song, but I have ideas.”

“What was the inspiration?” You questioned leaning your head back to glance over at him. A small smile tugged at the rock star in the driver’s seat.

“Almost twenty-years ago a struggling musician snuck into a concert he couldn’t afford. A struck of luck had a pretty ballet dancer attending too. It was an odd love story, and that musician had a double miracle. Eighteen years ago, he met the second love of his life.” Lance had a way with words that entranced anyone, whether it be musically or not.

“That musician was you.” You took a guess that ended up being right when Lance nodded, “Dad.”

“I was hoping you would harmonize on it with me? My sound guy is incorporating your voice as a baby, and in the ending, I want you to say something.”

A bright smile turned the corners of your mouth up while silent tears rolled down your cheeks at the idea he had. At that moment, you also decided to keep the collaboration and song a secret from your boyfriend and friends.

“I’d love to.” You spoke swiftly hugging his arm before he was shoving you back to your seat and his arm slung in front of you.

A blindly light made its presence known for a second before a loud crack shattered around you and your body was slammed the dash—a scream coming from your father before everything went quiet. You prone form slumped onto the crushed door unaware of the cries taking place outside the car.

Lance moaned fluttering his eyelids as consciousness brought him into the world again. His brain struggling to make sense of why the car was on its side. It connected when his first thought was his daughter.

“Sweetheart.” Lance’s tongue caught the copper taste in his mouth, but it was the petrifying taste fear that lingered as he received no response.

Straining his neck, he could see now you were laying against the crushed passenger door of the car; the car on its side with Lance strapped to the seat. A sharp cry released as he caught the blood coating the profile of his little girl. A haunting sound of Bittersweet filled the car among Lance’s sobs.

In the home of Sunset Curve, it was notoriously known that the only channel on TV was MTV, never the news. As usual, the guys were fighting over what kind of pizzas, they should order unaware of the countless news reports on a car crash. It wouldn’t be under hours later that they found out.

“Guys!” Alex’s head snapped up as Bobby struggled to breathe in the entrance of the kitchen, leaving the front door wide open.

“Mushrooms Bobby?” Reggie inquired oblivious to the tension radiating off the rhythm guitarist. Bobby had enough sweat it was like they had just finished a fifteen song setlist under boiling lights.

“Have you guys seen MTV?” Bobby demanded gaining the attention of his three bandmates as looking lost at the uncharacteristic anxious boy.

“Is our song playing?” Luke spoke, leaning over the island with a grin. His messy hair almost covering his hazel eyes.

Bobby didn’t reply other than to rush over to the tv to get to MTV. Instead of music blasting the house, a somber person was sitting on a chair.

“The musical world is struggling as the world waits for news on musician Lancaster Jameson following a car accident early this afternoon. Little news has been released on the circumstances leading to the crash on the occupants with both vehicles.” The man spoke sitting on a stool behind a makeshift desk.

Luke’s heart dropped at the words that rocked him to the core. His body working on autopilot was already moving to the door, he needed to be there for you. You must be terrified for your father. Luke had to be there for you. He just didn’t know you were in the car as well.

“An emergency response official revealed, however, that as they used the jaws of life, a song was still playing. A song very unlike anything Lancaster’s band has released before.”

A taxi, courtesy of Alex, pulled up beside the lead singer with his friend helping him into the backseat before joining him as well. Little did they know about the scene at the hospital.

Your mother, Nancy, sat silently ripping apart a Kleenex a nurse had graciously given the woman as she waited with bated breath. Her pallor pale and gaunt under the harsh hospital lights where she waited to hear the news for her family. Her tears began to fall as Luke, and his bandmate appeared in the ER.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Alex spoke, heading straight for the woman pushing the fears and anxious feelings to be dealt with at another time.

The woman couldn’t look Luke in the eye, knowing that the media had been issued legal documents to ensure you were kept out of the news. The lawyers had swiftly jumped on that part of the accident while your mother worried herself with the what-ifs swirling in her head.

“Luke.” She breathed, leaning to pull the teenager into a hug, “I’m sorry I couldn’t call.”

“I understand. You need to focus on Lance.” Luke supplied, stepping back to look around the room for you. His brows furrowed at the lack of evidence you were there, “Where’s Y/N?”

Nancy’s eyes watered further at the mention of her daughter still in surgery looking over to Alex, who collapsed into the chair understanding the look. Luke didn’t see it.

“I suppose the lawyers did an excellent job.” Nancy sighed, digging deep inside herself to lead the teenage boy to the chairs be had settled into, “I’m very sorry, Luke. Our lawyers reacted to the accident, but Lance’s name was already released. He wasn’t alone.”

“Y/N-“

“She’s in surgery right now.” Nancy’s voice broke slumping into the chair, returning to shredding the Kleenex in her hand. Alex was stock still in his chair, “I’ve been told she was lucky. There hasn’t been news on Lance yet.”

“Oh my god.” Luke breathed, staring at the scuffed shoes he had had for years by now with a little doodle you had done one night. The world faded as Luke went over a single moment, he had shared with you, and something burned; something he had carried for months now felt heavier than ever before.

Hours went by for Luke, Alex and your mother slowly the ER waiting room grew to have Reggie for support. He was the most serious he had been in his entire life; he had contacted the Patterson family but pleaded they wait for news at home. Reggie knew Luke wouldn’t be able to deal with his unresolved issues with his parents and the grief.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” A doctor wearing scrubs called outgaining the attention of Nancy who rushed up to the older doctor, “Please follow me.”

Nancy wavered in her steps as the doctor brought the middle-aged woman to a quiet room where the sound of a heart monitor beeped. Nancy was quick to rush over to the body, resting still out from the medication.

“Y/N.” Your mother breathed collapsing into a chair where she grasped your hand tightly. Her eyes took in the superficial cuts on your face and the brace on your wrist.

“She’s miraculously lucky for the severe car accident, she has a minor concussion along with a broken wrist. We had to remove her appendix or spleen, but she’ll be fine. The seat belt, however, snapped upon impact.” The doctor spoke facing the sobbing woman with pity in his eyes, “By the bruise across her chest we can see that your husband protected her, the media calls with ‘being soccer mom’d’ or my daughter does. Had he not done that the injuries would have been too severe to survive or she would have been in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.”

“Lance. Is he okay?”

“We need to talk about that. If you could follow me, we’ll let your daughter rest.”

Sunset Curve came to an early hiatus in their music career as Luke refused to leave your room from the moment he was allowed. When visitor hours were up, you could find him in his car struggling from sneaking into your room, but the warning of charges from the guard kept him in his place. For the first time in his life, Luke had no urge to put pen to paper or strum a single tune on his guitar.

He would stay silent in the chair beside your bed, holding tight to your hand in despair and guilt. He would, of course, visit Lance when your mother came to see you, they traded off not wanting either one to be alone.

A moan from the bed brought the attention of Luke and Alex, who had visited today to convince his best friend to come home for a shower.

“Baby?” Luke lunged closer as your eye fluttered open scanning the room with bleary eyes and sadness, “Hey.”

“Why are you holding my hand?” You questioned glancing at the hand intertwined with yours. Luke’s face dropped stumbling back at the look you cast him.

 “You don’t-“

“I woke up from an accident, and you can’t hug me?” You finished staring at the boy down, unaware the delivery of the question could very well be better than it was. Luke heaved a sigh gently, pulling you into a hug.

“That was cruel. I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“Luke forgetting you is like forgetting what the moon is.” You spoke wincing as you leaned back, “What’s the damage?”

Luke’s eyes glared at the nonchalant behaviour you displayed. At the same time, he was an utter mess from a week of sleeplessness and crippling fear. Alex’s deep sigh as he pushed down on Luke’s shoulders to place him back in the chair.

“The damage is you’ve been unconscious for a week with a minor concussion, a broken wrist, a bruised knee that was recently diagnosed, you are one spleen less, and you won’t have to worry about getting appendicitis. You will be incredibly sore from the bruises as well.” Alex supplied leaning to gently hug your form for even if you were dating his ex you had quickly grown to be a surrogate little sister.

“Oh.” You blinked, turning to stare at the wall, “What about my Dad?”

“He’s fine. He’s been struggling with orderlies every day to escape to check on you.” Luke spoke, “Your mom and I have had to do shifts between rooms during visitation hours. Security wasn’t happy to find me in here after hours.”

“Good.” You nodded leaning back in the bed staring up at the ceiling muttering a reply when Alex murmured, he would head to tell your parents you were awake.

Luke once had romantic plans before the accident, but when he found out about your accident, everything hit him. What-ifs of never living his dreams with you, of the things he might never get to do.

“Your hand better heal fast so that brace can come off.” Luke spoke, keeping his gaze on your face entirely in love with you. Your look of confusion amusing him, “Well how will the ring fit?”

“Ring?” You questioned becoming owl-eyed when Luke pulled out a stunning ring from his pocket, “Oh my god.”

“You tend to change my plans with everything you do. I was going to have this big speech and a romantic dinner, but I can’t wait.” Luke spoke, leaning to wipe away a tear from your eye, “I never want to be that scared again so until I can blow your socks off with a better proposal will you marry me?”

Your hand cupped the smooth cheek of the boy you loved more than words could ever say, “No.”

Luke’s heart broke at the words he never anticipated to hear, “What?”

“I say this because I love you, but I don’t want to go into an engagement with bad blood between you and your parents. You’ve shown them that your dream was worth it, but now you have to reach out. I want only happiness when we get engaged.”

Luke nodded his head, putting the ring back in his pocket, disappointed in the response, but what could he do? You gave a reason, and while definitely annoyed him he couldn’t fault your compassionate nature. For once in your entire relationship, the silence was awkward.

“So…” You trailed off, avoiding looking at Luke, “Have you decided on a tracklist for the album?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Luke shook his head only to be relieved when your parents came into the room. Nancy was already crying as she collapsed into the chair.

“Oh baby.” Nancy spoke, pressing a kiss to the bruised forehead you currently rocked. Lance scowled as he was rolled closer to the bed by the orderly.

“I’m fine.” You grumbled as your mom scanned every part of you, “Seriously!”

“I almost lost my baby.” Your mom snapped before apologizing at raising her tone, “Let me coddle you.”

You resigned yourself, but there was a sadness inside as Luke shared a goodbye before leaving you alone with your parents. You really wished you hadn’t been wrong in your decision.

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[quicksilverownsmysoul]

if his s/o makes art, colin loves to admire them while their doing their thing, and gets embarrassed whenever they catch him staring

YES (also this is a little self indulgent since I’m an artist. Also kinda made the headcannons revolve around mostly painting since that’s what I like doing best don’t judge me 😂)

Colin with a Painter/ Artist S/O

- Colin loves creative people, he thinks of himself as very practical and logical so he enjoys being with someone who’s creative. Because realists need dreamers

- literally anything you do or create he will fall in love with. Whether it’s a doodle on the sticky note you put on his lunch or some random paint splatters he thinks it’s all art.

- Absolutely loves to watch you paint, but you get embarrassed by it. Cause when you’re in the zone you’re like singing along to whatever is playing on your headphones and just dancing around while you paint. And when you see him watching you like shut down.

- You can’t look him in the eyes but he’s just watching you with a huge smile on his face.

- he tells you it’s cute that you are so passionate when you create but will respect your wishes if you don’t want him to watch you while you’re creating your art.

-if you do allow him to watch you he will literally be the happiest man on the earth. He will just sit in the corner of your studio and watch everything you do with wonder.

-Asks you questions about what you’re painting and the different techniques you’re using.

- Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all, he just watches you paint, smiling to himself at watching you create something beautiful out of nothing at all

- If you’re painting sitting down he’ll come up and lean his head on your shoulder or in your lap. If he’s in your lap with your free hand you’ll play with hair. If he’s leaning on your shoulder you’ll rest your hand on his. He loves it cause you hand kinda mirrors what you’re painting so you’ll draw little swirls on his hand.

-it’s soothing and it helps him relax after a long day

- If you’re standing up he’ll hug you from behind. Mumbling compliments into the crook of your neck that make you blush.

- likes to paint with with you. Isn’t a great artist but he took a couple course in college so he isn’t too bad. He likes watercolor, he does portraits of landscapes or animals

- You are doing portraits one day and you ask if you can paint him. He is honored that you think of him as someone good enough to paint. He’ll try and brush it off saying he’s not worthy of having you paint him

- But you’ll just shut him up with a kiss and tell him he’s more beautiful than piece of art.

- You call him your muse (it always makes him turn red from head to toe)

- He likes when you position him for your portraits, cause you’ll come up to him and tilt his head gently to the side and push his hair away from his eyes. He always leans into your touch.

- You better paint fast tho, cause he gets embarrassed at having you stare at him for too long. Like he won’t meet your eyes cause you’re watching him with such an intense look. But you’ll smile and he’ll return it before glancing down to avoid your watchful eyes

- If you want him to sit for longer you’re going to have to give him compliments cause he gets insecure after a while. (But if you give him too many he’ll try and hide his face from you).

- His heart melts when he sees your sketches lying around. Especially if they are sketch’s of him, cause you’ll always write my muse in the corner of them. He’s definitely stolen one of two to keep for himself

- Speaking of stealing, he’ll snag any drawings or paintings you do of yourself. Since you don’t do self portraits often. You think it’s a little narcissistic to paint oneself.

- But if Colin bugs you enough you’ll do a small sketch or quick painting of yourself. He’ll have it framed in his office.

- Brags to everyone about how good of an artist you are. Mare will be talking about something completely unrelated and he’ll be like “mhmm. Hmm, did you know (y/n) painted a portrait of me. They are literally so talented.” And mare will glare and him and be like “Zabel that’s nice but I was asking you about who you think shot this guy.”

- Brags about your skills to his mom. When she finally meets you she’s like so this is the talented artist my son won’t stop talking about. She would definitely commission you for a landscape painting for her dinning room. She wants to support you and your passions

- He definitely surprises you by renting a space out for you do hold a gallery in. When he tells you you almost start to cry, never having this much support for your work before

- He helps you set up the instillations, and cooks appetizers to hand out at the gallery.

- Has this proud look on his face when you are talking to people about your art. Loves how excited you get when people start buying from your gallery. He is your biggest hype man.

- Sometimes he’ll come home unexpected during the day and walk in on you painting. He won’t say anything, he’ll just watch you from the doorway, a soft smile on his lips. Your hair is all messy and tied back, you have paint staining your clothes and face but you’ve never looked more beautiful to him

- He’ll watch you until you notice him and then he’ll pull you close and tell you how talented he thinks you are.

- You’ll take your brush and paint a streak of red across his face. He’ll have this shocked look on his face and you’ll squeal as he grabs at you. He’ll take one of your brushes as do the same to you but with blue

- Ends with you guys covered in paint. He’ll kiss you deeply after that smearing the colors of your skin onto one another. Together you guys make purple

These are so long cause I got a little carried away. All I want is Colin to warp his arms around me while I paint, and kiss him and make purple is the at too much to ask

[ibijau]

Futures past pt1 / On AO3

Nie Huaisang, sitting cross legged on his bed, tilted his head. It was a rather warm early evening in spring, and he had been getting ready for bed, so he was wearing only his inner clothes, and his hair was done in quick and messy braids so they wouldn’t get tangled during the night. Since he hadn’t been expecting anyone save perhaps his brother, if Nie Mingjue felt in the mood to shout at him for skipping practice again, his room was an awful mess, the floor covered in copies of some prints he’d bought recently. Tasteful prints, at least, not that it would have shocked his visitor too much if it had been porn, he guessed.

“I think I should scream,” Nie Huaisang said without conviction.

“But you won’t because you’re too curious,” Nie Huaisang retorted.

At least, Nie Huaisang thought that was himself. The man who had suddenly appeared in the middle of his room had his eyes, his nose, his lips, his general shape of face, even if his jaw was much sharper. He dressed well, in the sort of ornate styles Nie Huaisang absolutely would do if his brother weren’t forcing him to be reasonable, had a gorgeous fan in his hand, and wore an elaborate guan in his hair, the perfect picture of a rich and refined scholar. He didn’t even bother carrying a sabre, which Nie Huaisang found very satisfying for some reason.

“I don’t have time to play games,” the older man announced, opening his fan with an elegant yet disdainful gesture that his younger self hoped to reproduce someday. He supposed he would, in time. “I am you, from the future. A little over twenty years, if you must know, and it is not a pretty sight here. Some people are going to make a mess of things and while I’ve done what was needed to right every wrong, I don’t see why I shouldn’t try to prevent those wrongs.”

Nie Huaisang hunched up, one elbow on his leg, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t think you’re me. I wouldn’t ever put that much effort into anything. Good try on the disguise though. It’s a bit rude you didn’t make me taller, but it is a good detail, it really sells it.”

The man threw him a disgusted look. “Sometimes, I understand why da-ge ended up like this,” he muttered. “I really was insufferable. Listen up. When you were seven, you stole da-ge’s favourite robes, the set he always wore to go to conferences. You thought they were the prettiest thing you’d ever seen, and you wanted to try them on and pretend you were, against all evidence, as great as da-ge. You wore them for less than an incense stick’s time before dropping ink on them. They were completely ruined, in spite of your efforts, so you just burned them.”

Nie Huaisang startled so badly he half fell on his side, before scrambling toward the back of his bed, suddenly terrified. That incident happened years before, and he’d never told anyone. Nie Mingjue had been furious for weeks. To that day, Nie Huaisang still didn’t know how he hadn’t been discovered… but it was something only he knew, something he’d never shared with anyone.

He stared at this cold, distant man in front of him, with his venomous eyes and disdainful air, and didn’t like what he saw. How could that be his future?

Guessing his thoughts, the man smiled.

“Da-ge dies in a few years,” he announced, startling Nie Huaisang again. “It’s tragic, and cruel, and we’re going to do everything we can to avoid it. You’re going to help, of course.”

So shocked he couldn’t breathe, Nie Huaisang weakly nodded.

It seemed impossible that his brother could ever die, least of all that he might die in the twenty years to come. He would have said the same of his father once, certainly, but his father was well into his sixties already, and anyway he was murdered so it was not the same.

Nie Huaisang gasped and grabbed his pillow, hugging it tight against his body for comfort, as if he weren’t already fifteen and far too old for that.

“When you say da-ge dies, you mean… he’s going to be killed by someone,” Nie Huaisang guessed, curling up on himself, hoping to be wrong.

The expression on the face of that man he would become softened.

“Maybe you’re not hopeless,” he said. “Maybe all I needed was a chance to do a little more… Yes, he’s going to be murdered. Or he would be murdered. We won’t let it happen. You won’t let it happen. I’m only here for a little time, it’s not easy to come here, but I’m hoping to return in a few months if all goes well.”

Something relaxed in Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. It seemed his brother’s death wasn’t something that would happen in the very near future then. That was a relief, when Nie Huaisang was about to leave home and go study for a year in the Cloud Recesses. From all the way down south, it would have been difficult to protect Nie Mingjue.

“So, what am I supposed to do then?” Nie Huaisang asked, still clutching his pillow. “You’d know I’m not much good at anything, so why aren’t you trying to warn da-ge directly? Oh, or am I the only one who can see you?”

“I’m… not sure if others can see me,” the man admitted, hiding behind his fan at that admission, exactly as Nie Huaisang did when embarrassed. “And I don’t have enough time to experiment. Besides, da-ge is so stubborn, he wouldn’t trust a stranger so easily. He can’t be blackmailed over a burned robe.”

“Rude!”

“That’s what you get for calling me short. Now come over here, grab something to write. I don’t want you to forget any of this, and I know how your memory is. Hurry!”

Nie Huaisang reluctantly let go of his pillow, and hopped down from the bed, grumbling the whole time. What was the point of being sent to the Cloud Recesses if he ended up becoming a man with such dreadful manners?

He grabbed a brush, hastily prepared some ink, and sat on the floor before looking up at his future self, waiting for instruction like a sullen child forced to listen in class.

“The first thing you need to know,” the man before him said, “is that there’s going to be a war with Qishan Wen.”

“Duh,” Nie Huaisang retorted, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t the brightest person in the world, but even he could guess as much. “Is that how da-ge dies?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. As if even Wen Ruohan could do anything to him!” his older self said, with a mix of disdain and pride. “Da-ge becomes a war hero, of course. But that war is what will eventually cause his death. Not that it matters yet, you have about two years and a half before the war starts, so…”

Nie Huaisang dropped his brush with a gasp, splattering ink over his sheet of paper.

“Two years? The war is in just two years?”

His older self clicked his tongue impatiently.

“Focus! This is irrelevant right now! What matters is taking measure so certain things don’t happen during that war. Now, the most important would be…”

He paused, looking down at Nie Huaisang. The longer he stared, the more annoyed the older man appeared. That look of frustration was one Nie Huaisang was quite used to, especially coming from his elders, but also sometimes from people of his own generation. He usually didn’t mind, though just a week before one kid half his age had looked at him like that over his posture during sabre practice, and that had stung a little, to be honest.

More often than not, people would accompany that exasperated stare with a ‘what will we do with you?’ and though his older self didn’t say the words, he was clearly thinking them.

“There’s a boy, living in Yunping City, named Meng Yao,” the man announced, before giving a number of details about that boy, such as the name of his mother, the address where he might be found, his age, his looks, and plenty other things. Nie Huaisang wrote it all down, and even doodled a very quick portrait based on that description, to which his older self nodded, looking nearly approving for a moment. Before Nie Huaisang could enjoy that, the man turned grim again. “You have to find this boy, and make sure he doesn’t join Lanling Jin. Do you understand? No matter what, Meng Yao cannot join Lanling Jin. If he does, there will be great risk to da-ge.”

There was an odd inflection on that cannot. Or at least, it was odd to hear it coming from himself, because it was the tone of voice people had when saying it’d be a shame if Wen Ruohan choked on his next meal, or if Jin Guangshan’s dick got chopped off by a demon on a Night Hunt.

But that Meng Yao was just a boy, just a few months older than Nie Huaisang himself. Even if he became a danger in later times, for now there was no way he could harm anyone. And even if he couldn’t join the Jin, there might be other sects, if he was so determined to be a cultivator. Maybe he could even be brought into Qinghe Nie, if he had real talent. Nie Mingjue didn’t care much what people’s origins were as long as they worked hard, though it was an opinion not everyone in the clan shared. It’d be a great way to kill two birds with one stone.

“Is he going to be a problem soon?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Only, it’s not like I can travel on my own, and Yunping City is pretty far from Gusu anyway, and…”

“A few weeks after your arrive, Jiang zongzhu invites Lan Qiren and his nephews to help him with a creature that causes problems near Yunping City,” his older self announced, lazily fanning himself. “I didn’t go, personally, but I’m sure you could find a way to go along. You’ll have to, it’s your best chance. Speaking of which…” he closed his fan with a sharp gesture and pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. “You have to get Lan Xichen to trust you in the future, so take this year in Gusu as a chance and become the best friend he’s ever had.”

Nie Huaisang nearly dropped his brush again and grimaced.

“Oh. Do I really have to? I mean, he’s so…”

He made a vague hand gesture, words failing him to describe Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen wasn’t a bad person. That wasn’t it. He was, in fact, very good, everyone said so. He was smart, and polite, and well educated, and amazing with cultivation, and with martial arts, and… and he was just so boring. He was, without a doubt, the most boring person Nie Huaisang had ever met. He was always too careful when speaking, too serious, too perfect, too much exactly how grown ups thought boys their age should act. He was an old man’s idea of a young man. He was really, really boring and while Nie Huaisang was very glad his brother had at least one friend, he was very judgmental toward Nie Mingjue for having chosen such a person for a companion.

If his older self’s dark expression was anything to go by, Lan Xichen’s personality didn’t look like it improved much in the future.

“I wouldn’t do this if there was another choice,” the man said. “But if da-ge couldn’t properly burn bridges with san-ge, then it’s pointless to try driving him away from er-ge, they’re too close. So you’ll have to do what’s needed to save da-ge, and become friends with Lan Xichen. It is vital. We’re going to do what we can so da-ge doesn’t die, but if it still comes to pass, you’ll need allies and I suppose that’s at least one thing he might be good for. Let’s see if he really meant what he said that time,” Nie Huaisang’s future self muttered somberly. “I don’t expect anything to come of this, but it can’t hurt.”

“But I don’t want to be friends with him,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“Good, because he won’t be your friend,” the man retorted coldly. “Don’t get attached to him, he’s not worth it. But make sure to become someone he’ll fully trust. Make yourself dearer to him than even da-ge is. Nothing less than that will do.”

That sounded even more difficult and boring than actually becoming friends with Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang thought. He pouted at the perspective of such a daunting task, wondering if he really loved his brother enough to put so much effort into saving him.

“I don’t even know how to become close to Lan gongzi!” he whined. “He doesn’t like anything interesting, he’s the most boring person in the world! How do I…”

“Figure it out!” his older self snapped. “Do you think I’d be here if I knew how to deal with him? Besides, I’m running out of time already. I’ll try to return to you a month after Qingming, when the spell has recharged. It should be before the Night Hunt in Yunping City, but you’ll need to have made progress with Lan Xichen already. Remember that we’re doing this for da-ge!”

Before Nie Huaisang could protest, the man standing before him suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace of his presence. It would have been easy to think it nothing but a dream, if not for that detailed list of information about that Meng Yao from Yunping City. Even like that, it really was unsettling, and Nie Huaisang stayed frozen in place for a long while, kneeling on the floor, staring at a list about a boy he was maybe supposed to kill. It seemed like complete madness, and maybe he should have ran to his brother, explained everything to him, except…

Except there had been such pain in his older self’s voice every time he spoke of Nie Mingjue, and his anger at having failed to protect their brother in his own life had been obvious. Something had happened there. Something he hadn’t even explained, Nie Huaisang suddenly realised. His older self hadn’t told him how their brother died, and how could he convince Nie Mingjue that he might be in danger when he didn’t even know who would strike him, or when?

It might be better to wait then. After all, Nie Huaisang’s older self had said that Nie Mingjue would be a great hero in a future war, and that war wouldn’t start for over two more years. Until then, Nie Huaisang might as well try to meet that Meng Yao when he had the chance, and he would also (he shivered in distaste) try to see what could be done about Lan Xichen. Having come to that conclusion, Nie Huaisang carefully folded the sheet of paper containing his notes about Meng Yao, and put it away. He then cleaned his brush, put some order around him, and finally went to sleep.

His last thought was that next time, when his older self returned, he would definitely ask more details about Nie Mingjue’s death.

-

In the days that followed that encounter with his future self, Nie Huaisang made efforts to be a better brother. He still wasn’t sure how much he believed about that encounter he’d had, but it certainly made him quite sentimental to realise that Nie Mingjue would die someday. It was clear that there would be a war soon after all, whether it happened when his future self said it would or not, and people certainly tended to die during conflicts.

So as he finished preparing for his rapidly approaching stay in Gusu, Nie Huaisang tried to fully enjoy his brother’s company and commit every moment spent together to memory, in case something happened.

A very noble sentiment, except his brother was a complete pain in the ass.

If Nie Huaisang hugged him, Nie Mingjue asked him what he’d broken this time, or what favour he was about to request. If Nie Huaisang suggested they spent more time together, Nie Mingjue just took him to the training grounds and forced him to practice the sabre, or even worse tried to spar with him, which was cruel and barbaric.

Nie Mingjue was the absolute worst person in the entire world, and while Nie Huaisang was still going to try his best to keep him alive, he wasn’t sure why.

Because Nie Mingjue was so unbearable and annoying and unable to appreciate his brother’s immense kindness, Nie Huaisang found it a relief of sorts when he finally left for the Cloud Recesses.

The trip itself was nothing memorable. Nie Huaisang spent most of it wishing he had a golden core so he could fly his sabre and go faster than this carriage, or trying to figure out how he was supposed to befriend the oh-so-boring Lan Xichen. By the time he and the disciple accompanying him reached Gusu, he still hadn’t found an answer to that problem. He would have to figure it out on the fly then.

The carriage was left at the foot of the mountain where the Cloud Recesses laid, and the long trek by foot started. Nie Huaisang, adverse to any unnecessary physical effort, found that he didn’t actually mind too much going up the mountain. The landscape was so exquisite there, every turn of the path revealing something worth painting. On the few occasions he’d been there before to accompany his brother at conferences, he’d always admired how Gusu Lan had found such an amazing place to live in, and promised himself he’d make the best of things if he ever got to come study there. He would have forgotten to bring his sabre if Nie Mingjue hadn’t packed it for him, but his luggage was full of paper of the highest quality, and it wouldn’t be used to take notes.

At the gate of the Cloud Recesses, Nie Huaisang and his brother’s disciple had to wait to be brought in. Because he was a somewhat more important guest than some of the other visiting disciples, Nie Huaisang was greeted by Lan Qiren in person, his eldest nephew in tow.

While Lan Qiren guided him inside and explained a number of rules he didn’t intend to follow, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help observing Lan Xichen with more attention than he’d ever done before. He was somewhat handsome, if you liked that sort. A little tall and gangly, though it was less jarring when he wasn’t hanging out with Nie Mingjue who was older and had fully finished growing. Nie Huaisang figured that hanging out with him would at least give him something nice to look at, even if he didn’t expect the two of them to ever find much to talk about.

“And this is where you will be staying,” Lan Qiren announced when they arrived in front of a small house. “We will let you get settled and rest from your trip. If you have any requests…”

“I’d love a tour of the Cloud Recesses!” Nie Huaisang said without thinking, then turned to look at Lan Xichen. “Lan gongzi, would you please give me a tour? I’m sure there’s no one who could do it better than you.”

Since they had never spoken much before, Nie Huaisang had of course expected that Lan Xichen would be a little surprised over such a request. But Lan Xichen wasn’t just surprised, he was shocked, his eyes opening wide and his face growing pale, as if Nie Huaisang had just grown a second head and announced he’d be feeding on the blood of infants. Lan Xichen’s polite smile even dropped for a moment, though of course it quickly returned. In a moment, he had regained perfect control of himself, but Nie Huaisang was still puzzled and entertained by that extreme reaction.

“I’m glad Nie gongzi thinks well of me,” Lan Xichen said calmly. “But I am sure I can find someone better suited to give you a tour.”

“But I want it to be you,” Nie Huaisang insisted, pretending not to notice the other Nie disciples glaring at him for already causing problems on his first day. “It’d be nice if it were you. Da-ge always says you’re so clever and knows so many things, so I really want you to be my guide.”

Lan Xichen appeared to hesitate. Nie Huaisang braced himself for rejection. He hadn’t expected to have his caprice granted anyway, and just wanted to throw it out there that he was going to be pestering Lan Xichen in the future. Then, to his surprise, the older boy nodded.

“Very well. I will give you a tour this afternoon, Nie gongzi,” Lan Xichen said. “I have no urgent obligations, and it is the least I can do for a friend’s relative. Unless shufu has objections?”

Lan Qiren had none. The Nie were left to settle down, promised lunch would be brought to them soon, and then Lan Xichen would come in the early afternoon to show Nie Huaisang around, while someone else would do the same for the other Nie disciples. It was a great plan, a great occasion for Nie Huaisang to gain Lan Xichen’s favour as instructed… and it sounded impossibly boring.

All too soon, the time for that tour came. Nie Huaisang, unhappy with their too simple accomodations and the unappealing meal they had been served, was not in a great mood when Lan Xichen knocked on the door. He had been in the Cloud Recesses less than half a day, and already the place disappointed him.

To his credit, Lan Xichen wasn’t a bad guide. He made sure to match his pace to Nie Huaisang’s as they walked, he had something to explain about nearly every building, and patiently repeated the most important rules of life in the Cloud Recesses which Nie Huaisang had ignored when Lan Qiren gave them. It was easier to listen to Lan Xichen than to Lan Qiren anyway, there was a certain warmth to his voice that his uncle simply lacked. Lan Xichen could probably have made a lecture sound like a conversation. It would have been a very lovely time, if Nie Huaisang had cared about any of that, which he didn’t. Everything in the Cloud Recesses was about cultivation and rules, which was nearly as boring as the Unclean Realm where everything was about cultivation and martial arts.

“And what do you do for fun here?” Nie Huaisang desperately asked after a while when Lan Xichen explained that a certain building was meant to enhance the effects of meditation.

“The library is that way,” Lan Xichen announced.

“Does it have anything fun, or is it only cultivation treaties?”

“We collect poetry and history treaties as well,” Lan Xichen said. “And music sheets, of course,” he added after a moment, looking uncomfortable. “I… are you much interested in music, Nie gongzi?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “No, but I guess it’s better than cultivation, as far as fun things go. I’m supposed to learn the guqin at some point, but it’s hard to find the time, and da-ge prefers that I focus on the sabre.”

“Qinghe Nie has traditionally been more focused on martial arts,” Lan Xichen noted. “Though since you are here, perhaps you might enjoy trying different things. You are here to learn after all.”

Nie Huaisang stared at the older boy with surprise. Up until then, Lan Xichen had never seemed to care what Nie Huaisang did or didn’t do, and he never contradicted Nie Mingjue whenever his friend complained about having a lazy little brother who wasn’t interested in the things he ought to have been interested in. Without being sure, Nie Huaisang suspected that Lan Xichen thought him a little stupid, and just not very skilled in general.

“Maybe it’s worth a try,” Nie Huaisang mused. “I do like music a lot. My father used to say I have a good ear for it. Not like da-ge. He wouldn’t know one melody from another even if his life depended on it!”

“Is that so,” Lan Xichen weakly replied, turning very pale, as if he might faint.

“Lan gongzi, are you unwell?”

“It’s nothing important,” Lan Xichen said, smiling again in that annoying manner of his. “Let’s continue walking. I think you really might like the library, and then… it wouldn’t be part of a normal tour, but would you like me to show you the way to the back hills if we have time? I remember your brother mentioning that you like birds, and there are many to be seen there.”

“That would be lovely,” Nie Huaisang agreed, surprised and delighted by that offer. It was likely that Nie Mingjue had just been complaining about that particular hobby of his, as he so often did, but if Lan Xichen had translated that into something positive, Nie Huaisang was glad. “Do you like birds as well, Lan gongzi?”

“I’ve never paid them much attention,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I suppose they are fine creatures.”

That, clearly, was all he had to say on the subject. It was a very boring answer, Nie Huaisang thought. But then, Lan Xichen really was a boring person, so that was no surprise. Nie Huaisang thus dropped the topic, and forced himself to pay some degree of attention as Lan Xichen resumed talking about the history of the Cloud Recesses.

At least, the library really did seem quite interesting, aside from all the cultivation texts. And since they actually managed to check the back hills for a little bit before dinner, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise to find that there were a great many birds there, as well as plenty of spaces to explore, and quite a few vistas to paint.

Getting along with Lan Xichen was going to be so boring, but at least the rest of his stay could be turned into something quite fun.