#I’ll probably slap all my doodles in one post at some point…
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JTTW BOOK CLUB
CHPT 7-9
@journeythroughjourneytothewest
Chpt 7
•”All this was probably refined in his stomach by the Samadhi fire to form a single solid mass” I know other deities can use the fire but I’m wracking my brain for when it used before(this point) specifically- My understanding was the furnace refined the immortal elixirs and fruit- I’m going to assume Laozi is just theorizing and doesn’t know what actually happened
•Diamond body….👀
•Erlang gets absolutely DRIPPED out, he earned it FR
•eyes permanently irritated by the smoke churned up the the Xun trigram, someone get this man some eye drops
•he is extra pissed
•HE JUST BODIES LAOZI IM YELLING😂
•”this cosmic being fully fused with nature’s gifts passes with ease through 10,000 toils and tests”
•Big war form out to beat serious ass, he’s not jokin bitch
•” bright and luminous; ….illustrious pearl of mani he is indeed” MMMMM comparing him to a mani- a flaming (wish granting) jewel is hilarious 💀
•Tathagata bringing in the big guns (himself)
•”how tf do you know The Way and not know who I am?? And you’re so….violent” I can sense the side eye
•I wonder if Wukong has previous incarnations?? Buddha says he just reached human form this incarnation but if his rock was there at the beginning of creation, wouldn’t his soul be ‘baking’ (for lack of a better term) the whole time until he hatched?
•” and with a total lack of respect he left a bubbling pool of monkey urine” Iconic moment LMAOOOO
•smart for Wukong to leave a momento- too bad it didn’t matter lol
•ah so he was jumping to visit the pillars again, not run away(supposedly)- he’d rather prove he’s right than escape💀 that checks out
•monkey has been squished, it is now party o’clock
•are you allowed to give the Buddha drugs if it’s an offering? Like wine??🤔 “wtf is this allowed? Wtf”
•”Wukong is wiggling out”
“Dw, take this”
*slaps tag on the mountain like flex tape*
•enough room to breathe and move his hands- I would lose my mind
•Molten copper & iron pellets mimic punishments in hell (just learned this🙏), shedding the Karma like water -I feel like 500 years is pretty good tbh considering everything
Woe molten metal and iron upon ye
Chpt 8 + 9 under cut:
Chpt 8:
•lots of lovely poems in this chapter
•a paragraph recap of the past 7 chapters
•wonder what Feast of the Ullambana Bowl is? (the notes say it’s a mass for the dead and is also know as the Ghost festival, practiced by Taoists and Buddhists)
•”the Chan mind shines bright like a thousand rivers’ moon; true nature’s pure and great as an unclouded sky.”
Lovely poem, and I’m beginning to realize this book is very heavily focused on the Chan school, which I don’t know why I didn’t pick up on sooner? White-Robed Guan Yin is a Chan specific form, usually depicted in their bamboo grove
•Tathagata reveals his 3 baskets of scripture after everyone is done presenting their poems, feels almost like he suggested the celebration to announce these
•Each basket corresponds to scriptures of Heaven, Earth, and the Damned- a total of 15,144 FUCKING SCROLLS
•oooo Guanyin poem!! “ a golden body filled with wisdom, fringes of dangling pearls and jade, …dark hair piled smartly in a coiled-dragon bun. With brows of new moon shape and eyes like two bright stars, her jadelike face beams natural joy. …Her orchid heart delights in green bamboos; her chaste nature loves the wisteria. The living Guanyin from the Cave of Tidal Sound.”
•5 Talismans: Embroidered Cassock that will protect him from falling back into the Wheel of Transmigration, a 9 ring priestly staff that will protect him from poison or harm, 3 tightening fillets- the Golden, the Constructive, and the Prohibitive Spell.
•Guanyin thinks this will take about 2 to 3 years💀 hooooo boy….
•FLOWING SAND RIVER!!! MY 2ND FAV BOY!!!
•Green and Black complexion, Gleaming eyes like the lights beneath a stove, forked mouth with teeth like knives and swords, and disheveled red hair
•like that Wujing is using a priest staff he def took from one of the monks he ate lol
•Wujing fighting Moksa for his life only to drop everything to apologize and talk to Guanyin LMAO
•MOKSA PICKS HIM UP BY THE COLLAR AKFKAKDJDJ
•ah, so Wujing didn’t reincarnate, he was changed, STABBED OVER 100 TIMES EVERY 7 DAYS AND FORCED TO COMMIT CANNABILSM SO HE DOESNT STARVE AS PUNISHMENT- THATS JUST LOVELY😭
•I like the interpretation that he could have been trying to signal a coup by breaking the crystal cup
•Guanyin hearing about Wujing’s string of skulls: it’s a surprise tool that will help us later
•BAJIE TIME
•this idiot bro “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO GET FLOWER PETALS IN MY EYES!!” “IDIOT THAT WAS GUANYIN” “…Guanyin is here??” “LOOK UP”
•Wuneng is reincarnated, he got beat to death in Heaven for hitting on Chang’e LMAOOOOO GET REKT
•ah yes, casually mentions killing his pig family and then his life of eating humans. Lovely.
•AO LIE TIME
•I committed a little accidental arson, please bail me out
•Damn, he got a really short intro
•interesting that Guanyin id’s the Peach Banquet as Wukongs fall from grace. I would def agree with this- eating the peaches like he did was extremely reckless and the beginning of the end imo
•”who tf is talking shit up there”
•No one has ever visited Wukong, I’m guessing the Guards were horrible company
•I like how both Guanyin and Sanzang try to give Wukong a religious name- Guanyin is very happy to hear he has the Wu- prefix as well lol
•arrived in Chang’an, let the hunt begin
Chpt 9:
•Chang’an bb, all blooming flowers surrounded by 8 rivers (DAMN, that’s a lot of water)
•Guangrui got first place in the examination, good for him UwU
•SURPRISE WIFE
•”gave the girl to Guangrui as his bride” UM I THINK SHES THE ONE WHO GRABBED HIM LMAO
•Guangrui has some fated beef with these two random boatmen, Liu Hong and Li Biao- states that he was destined in a previous incarnation to be enemies with them, is this a result of bad karma?
•NOOOOOO MY GUY GUANGRUI
•Liu Hong reminds me of Liu’er Mi-*gunshot*
•since they’re at the bottom of the Hong river, which Dragon King is this?
•Golden Carp coming in clutch, nice
•LADY YIN IS SO METAL LETS GO “she hated the bandit so bitterly that she wished she could devour his flesh and sleep on his skin” DO IT GURL, KILL HIM
•damn, too bad she’s pregnant with Sanzang….dw Girl I know you would kick his ass otherwise…
•there goes his toe…
•get named River Float idiot
•damn bro chill, that wasn’t very monk-like of you
•homie got called an orphan and cried JAKDJSJFJ I FEEL BAD
•she didn’t even check the toe I THOUGHT SHE DID- WHAT WAS THE POINT LMAO
•nvmnd
•I guess licking the eyes is better than spitting on them…sigh…
•GODDAMN THEY RIPPED LIU HONG AND LI BAIO APART….good for them, deserved in fact
•Lady Yin committing suicide even after she was reunited with her husband makes sense, as there was a trend where wives whose husbands died or they were assaulted, killed themselves. This was show loyalty to their husbands and add weight to their claim of SA- Lady Yin’s husband coming back does not change the fact that everyone knows she was forcefully married :((
(I use the term ‘trend’ only as a way to describe the rise and fall in wife suicides tied to either a husbands death or as a response to SA)
#FINALLY CAUGHT UP YIPPEE#I CAN… I CAN DRAW MKRE FOR THESE#<- I say this but I intentionally didn’t post last Sunday so I could make that animation for chapter 7 LMAO#…I have my priorities straight#tho the animation prevented me from doing anything for Sanzang’s chapter RIP#I would have done Lady Yin Justice I swear- she deserves soemthing nice#jttw#jttw book club#<- still not sure about that tag LMAO#Journey to the west#I’ll probably slap all my doodles in one post at some point…#Sun Wukong#tang sanzang#my art#jttw meme#tw: sui mention
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Do No Harm Take No Shit Chapter 5 - Home(room) Coming
They discussed how best to break the news to everyone, while feeding each other ice cream. (call Adrien a sap, he didn’t care, this was the best day of his fucking life) It seemed a bit obtrusive to walk into class and announce, ‘Hello Marinette is my girlfriend now, any questions?’
On the other hand, Lila would probably take advantage of any ambiguity. Not to mention Adrien’s fans – they would throw a tantrum when he and Marinette went public.
In the end, the simple approach was taken. Adrien took a selfie of them sharing their couples’ cone, one in which Marinette’s face was scrunched up adorably as he dabbed strawberry ice cream on the tip of her nose. Her hair was out and tumbling in the breeze, slapping Adrien on the cheek while he laughed and held the camera up blindly. It was his favourite shot – he was almost loathe to share it with the world. A quick caption. Magical ice cream with my magical girlfriend – best day of my life. Adrien posted it on Monday morning while the Gorilla drove them to school.
“Aaaaand… done.” He leaned his head against Marinette’s shoulder and watched the comments start to filter in.
“That was fast.” Marinette said.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few stalkers on here.”
“You don’t say.” She teased.
Paris flashed by, and then they had arrived. They walked into the school hand in hand – Marinette’s hand was an honour Adrien held with pride. In the hallway Mylène glanced at them, glanced away casually, and then her gaze snapped back, accompanied by unashamed jaw-dropping. She elbowed Ivan, who looked around and blinked at the two, before grinning excitedly. They started to whisper between themselves. Adrien stifled a laugh.
“So,” He murmured as they walked, “How many people know about your huge crush on me, exactly?”
Marinette groaned. “No.”
“Because if Alya and Nino were shipping us…”
“Please, there are too many names to remember. You are the one person who didn’t know.”
“Was everyone on team Marinette-Adrien?”
“Adrienette.”
“What?”
Marinette looked away, face blushing a lovely shade of red. “Nothing.”
Adrien hummed and swung their joined hands. After a moment, Marinette gathered her courage and spoke again.
“Most people were on the team. Except for Chloe, of course.”
“Chloe’s always the exception.” Adrien noted.
They stepped inside the class, and Rose began to squeal. Adrien jumped at the pitch of it – all eyes were on them suddenly. He smiled nervously at the wide-mouthed stares.
“Uh, hi?”
“Congratulations!” Rose squealed. She rushed down from her chair to hug Marinette and Adrien in turn, swiftly followed by a grinning Alya who slung an arm around her best friend’s shoulder.
“Mari! Why didn’t you say something earlier? Congrats you two!”
The class was loud with cheers and excited voices. Kim laughed from his seat, “Adrien, bro! We thought you were gonna be oblivious forever.”
“Well, what can I say?” Adrien shrugged, fingers still tangled with Marinette’s. “I saw the light.”
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Rose cried. She glanced back to the very stiff figure sitting at her desk, “Lila, I told you they would figure it out!”
“Yes, you did.” Lila’s voice dripped with saccharine contempt. Adrien could feel her glare drilling into him from across the classroom. He suppressed the animalistic urge to bristle and hiss, instead sending a sweet smile towards the teeth-gritting girl. ‘Look out. You have no idea who you’re messing with.’
“So, when did this happen?” Alya urged. Marinette shrugged.
“This weekend. We went out, and talked, and… well.” She slightly lifted their joined hands, and the girls cooed. Marinette’s cheeks were flushed with happiness – even Lila’s presence didn’t seem to impact her. Adrien wished she could be this happy all the time. Damn it if he wasn’t going to try and make it so. “I’m expecting some rabid fangirl lashback though.”
Alya crinkled her nose. “Ew. Don’t worry Mari, we’ve got your back.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Soooo,” Alya leaned in towards the new couple, “I was wondering, would you guys object to a slight seat change today? I really want to sit next to my boyfriend, and – gosh – that leaves you two together in the front row!”
“Real smooth, Alya.” Alix elbowed her with a snort. Marinette laughed.
“I’d like that. Adrien?”
“Definitely.” He said fervently.
“Oh, and do you guys want to have lunch at my house?” Marinette offered Nino and Alya. Nino sighed happily.
“Ah, Dupain-Cheng pastries. It’s been too long.”
“So that’s a yes.” Alya clarified.
The classes went quickly, with Marinette by Adrien’s side. When she was waiting for the other students to finish up with their note taking, she would doodle in the corners of her sketchbook. Adrien picked up her pen to draw a little love heart on her cast. She returned the favour on the back of his hand. At lunch time he, Marinette, Alya and Nino met outside the classroom to walk to Marinette’s house. They were about to start off when a voice called out.
“Oh! Would you mind if I joined you?” Lila’s sickeningly sweet cry made Adrien stiffen. Marinette bit her lip, hard, as Alya and Nino turned to see the brunette hurrying over. Alya tipped her head with a confused smile.
“Of course, girl, but I thought you were busy? You said you were having lunch with… a special someone?” Alya pointed surreptitiously to her earrings. Lila sighed, an impressive show of disappointment.
“Oh, I was so looking forward to having lunch together, but she had to cancel! Her partner got into trouble and she had to go and bail him out again. Honestly, cats can be so troublesome can’t they?”
Oh. Cats, earrings. Was Lila really talking about Ladybug? Having lunch with Ladybug? Not only was that an incredibly stupid thing to brag about, given the whole being-targeted-by-a-supervillain thing, but Lila had picked the wrong people to boast to. Adrien was almost ready to give her a cataclysm to the face.
But he wasn’t suited up right now, and Alya had already invited Lila along with a smile and a reassurance that she was sure it wasn’t personal, Lila’s bestie was a very busy person after all. A quick glance at Marinette’s uninjured arm revealed the way her fists were clenched. Adrien threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. I know. It’s bullshit.
“Are you guys coming?” Nino called from up ahead. The others had already started off. Adrien pasted on his model smile.
“Yep! We’ll catch up to you in a sec.”
“Adrien.” Marinette whispered. He turned to her, allowed his smile to drop into a scowl that mirrored hers. “I don’t want Lila in my house.”
He shuddered. “Ugh, I know, I’ve already had that experience. She’s creepy.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She whispered desperately. “Lila hates me. What if she gets her hands on something important? What if she finds the miracle box? Or lies to my parents? Or spills paint on my ball gown commission? She knows I’m being commissioned by Clara Nightingale, she asked Alya about it the other day. I’ve been working on it for weeks, if she ruins it I’ll have to start again and buy all the fabrics with my own money and the bakery will go broke and Maman and Papa will have to sell and I’ll never get a job in fashion and I’ll live on the streets and get stabbed in a mugging and-”
Adrien squeezed her hand, and Marinette trailed off.
“It’ll be fine.” He promised. “We won’t go to your house.”
Marinette looked up at him with such desperation, that Adrien felt his heart break. Had he really made her feel like this? That no one was here for her? Adrien lifted her hand to kiss it before turning to call after the three students on the footpath ahead of them.
“Guys, hold up! Marinette forgot about a huge order her parents have at the bakery, if we go there we’ll just be in the way. There’s a cool café down the road we can go to instead.”
Lila’s eyes widened like a kicked puppy’s. “I-I don’t have any money with me, I gave it all to Prince’s Ali’s charity for disabled orphans.” She put on a pained smile. “It’s okay, though. I don’t need to get anything – my diabetes won’t be a huge problem if I skip a meal or two. It’s enough to just spend time with my favourite people.”
Alya ‘awww’ed and slung an arm around Lila’s shoulder. “Mari, are you sure we can’t just stop by your place? Your folks have plenty of food they don’t sell, right?”
Marinette squeaked. Adrien spoke over her smoothly. “Don’t worry, Lila! I’ll pay for your lunch. It’s the least I can do, after how good you are to those disabled orphans.”
He could feel Lila’s glare, and it was hilarious. She said sweetly, “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly take your money!”
“I’m literally rich. Besides, wouldn’t it be the same if you took Marinette’s food?” He smiled at the fuming girl. “Please, let me treat you. I’d do the same for any friend.”
He was really laying it on thick now, he could tell from Marinette’s stifled giggle. At Lila’s side, however, Alya hadn’t picked up on the passive aggressive note. She was beaming as she linked arms with Nino and Lila. “Great! Let’s go, before lunch time runs out.”
Marinette and Adrien followed behind. As they walked Marinette leaned in to murmur, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Adrien whispered back. “Your knight in shining leather is always here to help.”
She snorted and bumped him. Adrien grinned.
“It’s a tail as old as time. Fur as long as I can remember, it’s always been the princess and her alley cat against the world.” Marinette groaned, but the sparkle in her eye betrayed her. “What’s wrong, Milady? Are you feline okay? You didn’t catch a cold or something, did you?”
“What secrets are you two whispering about?” Nino joked. Adrien sent him an innocent smile.
“I have no idea what you mean. I’m just complimenting my beautiful girlfriend.” He leaned in to Marinette to add, “Let me know if all the whiskering is bugging you.”
Marinette laughed out loud. “Please, Adrien. Please get some new material.”
“Why would I, when I have the purrfect puns already?” He lowered his voice again. “Seriously though, if I am annoying you or if Lila’s making you feel uncomfortable, just let me know.”
“I will, kitty.” Marinette smiled. Adrien was thrilled that he could make her smile like that. He would tell awful puns every day for the rest of his life if it would make Marinette smile.
They walked together, with a liar, to go get lunch.
Two months later
“Are you sure about this?” Adrien asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time as Marinette shoved her bag into her locker. She still held her newly-uncasted arm carefully against her body, out of habit. “I can do it instead, it doesn’t have to be you.”
“Yes it does.” Marinette closed her locker firmly. “I have to do this. You just make sure to get it all, okay? You have an important part.”
“Of course, Milady.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her hair. Marinette hummed happily and buried her face in his jacket. And everything was wonderful for a short, blissful moment.
There was a faint zipping sound, and then Plagg stuck his head through the wall of the deserted locker room and barked, “She’s alone in the courtyard. Now’s the time, Pigtails.”
Adrien wished this moment would never end. Alas, he could not hold the love of his life forever. Marinette proved that when she lifted her head.
“Okay.” She pulled in a deep breath and smiled up at Adrien.
“You’ve got this.” He told her. She nodded.
“Yeah. Okay. Tikki, spots on.”
When it was over Adrien rushed to meet Marinette in the garden behind the school, tucked away between trees and bundles of flowers. She had beaten him there and had already detransformed, Tikki sitting on a nearby branch and munching on a cookie. When Adrien arrived she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and lifted her arms.
“Hey, hey.” Adrien ran into her embrace and hugged her tightly. She was shaking. “It’s okay. You did it. You were amazing Marinette, and now it’s all over.”
“I know.” Marinette mumbled again him. “I just can’t believe…”
“I know.” He held her firmly and Marinette returned the gesture, clutching at his back. “You’re done. You can relax now.”
Marinette made a muffled sound. Adrien stroked her hair.
“Do you wanna go home?”
She nodded, not lifting her face from his chest.
“Do you wanna be alone?”
She shook her head.
“Do you wanna cuddle and watch cartoons?”
Marinette nodded again.
“Do you wanna watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie and laugh at all the stuff that they got wrong?”
Another nod. Adrien kissed the top of her head.
“Then that can be arranged. And we’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes.”
“When it comes.” Marinette mumbled.
Adrien walked to the front of the class the next morning just before school was due to start. Most of the students were already in their seats – including Marinette, who Adrien had insisted was due for a break. She had already done the heavy lifting of the plan, now Adrien could see it through. Besides, she didn’t need Lila targeting her even more for this. Speaking of Lila, Adrien could feel the girl’s suspicious glare drilling into his back as he spoke to Ms. Bustier.
“Excuse me miss, is it alright if I show the class something before the lesson starts? It’s urgent.”
She frowned from her desk. “Can it wait? We have a lot of important information to cover this lesson.”
“Ms. Bustier, this is very important information. I think everyone should see it as soon as possible – including you and the other teachers.”
She shook her head. “Mister Agreste, I really don’t see what could be so important that you must interrupt my lesson. Why don’t you go and sit down, and talk to the principal at lunch?”
“Because it concerns my classmates and-”
“All the more reason for it to be dealt with discreetly – we don’t need a spectacle.”
“You didn’t give Marinette that luxury.” Chloe called mildly from the front seat. Adrien turned to stare at her in disbelief. “You called her out in front of everyone during that whole cheating scandal. Why not give Adrien the same luxury? Or do I need to bring my daddy into this?” She pulled out her phone threateningly and Miss Bustier whitened.
“That will not be necessary, Chloe. I’m sure a… a few minutes is fine.”
“It won’t take long.” Adrien assured, sending Chloe a grateful look. She smiled smugly. Adrien quickly plugged in his USB and opened the document, taking a breath to raise his voice to the whole class.
“Thank you all for your time. At first I wasn’t sure if I should share this – but after doing a bit of research, I’ve found some worrying things that I think everyone here should know about.” Adrien could feel Lila’s glare searing through his forehead. He resisted the urge to smirk at her, instead schooling his expression into hesitance and worry. He had a part to play – the innocent bystander. After all, a malicious witness wasn’t very trustworthy. “I sent a copy to Mr. Damocles and the Ladyblog – Alya, you probably haven’t seen it yet – but I think it’s important that you all watch it before anyone else.”
Marinette met his eye, and nodded. Adrien smiled at her and pressed play.
#fic#my writing#ladybug#miraculous ladybug#chat noir#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#lila#lila gets exposed#dnhtns
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I don't know if you've answered something like this before, but when did you start to become attached to Lor and/or Nova? Is there a history behind it or did it just happen and kind of spiral. I love your stuff by the way, stay hydrated.
It’s kinda difficult to explain without delving into some personal stuff, but I’ll try to explain it as best I can. I can’t add a read more on mobile, so be warned this is going to be a long post. I’ll tag it as such. By long I mean I’m scrolling back up to add I’ve been typing for over half an hour. Might as well just call this half of my life story. Anyways...
Nova was the first of the two I developed a big interest in, hence why all my social media is named what it is. At first it was something I kept to myself because it was during a very difficult time in my life. To be frank, if it weren’t for me deciding to draw Nova one night, I probably wouldn’t be here. What started out as what I thought would be a temporary distraction turned into my first source of legitimate interest and motivation; I saw the drawing I made that night, what I thought would be my last contribution to the world, and thought, “Well this doesn’t look great. I can do better.”
And so I begun trying to do just that. Constantly drawing Nova, slowly letting the idea of him being just a mere distraction from the inevitable choice I thought I would make fade away. Because, for once, I actually had a solid interest, something to focus on that I could keep improving at and show others I was improving at. And when you start to improve at something, suddenly you feel a bit better about yourself.
In that journey of realizing I had more reason to live than I thought, I started getting attached to Nova as a character, and one I could relate to for a very long time. While most say Nova looks sleepy, I’ve always seen it as tired; not in the physical way, but in terms of emotions. Tired of waiting, of existing; lonely, too. I felt that.
I also connected strongly with the way Nova was always treated by the fandom, as I started interacting with it. Always in the background, overshadowed by others, and in general ignored; just like how I felt constantly. Everyone around me seemed to excel at something, or was popular and beloved, or otherwise was at least something. They were the Marxes, the Galacta Knights, the Dededes, Meta Knights, Kirbies.
I, on the other hand, was not. At best I was a collection of little somethings in a trench coat, stuff that didn’t matter but at least gave me some semblance of identity. I liked bugs, I liked video games, I liked going outside, things like that. A random assortment of different, miscellaneous parts, but no real idea what those parts made or what I was without them. Sound familiar?
Nova became a huge part of my identity in a matter of months. I lived and breathed Nova, I wrote bad Nova fanfic, I made doodles of Nova on possibly every paper assignment in school. I was, honestly, entirely obsessed.
That’s kinda when things started to change, some ways for the better, some for worse. Obviously, I had a massive level of interest in one specific random character that nobody else really shared. I talked about almost nothing but said interest, made content only of said interest.
People began getting annoyed, but I didn’t notice until it was too late. Suddenly people I was close to began to express dislike towards Nova because of me. Me, who identified in every way as something tied to Nova. People talked about me behind my back, vagued about me, and ultimately some made it abundantly clear that they didn’t respect me. Some of those people I still can’t avoid today.
That became another low point for me. My depression got bad again, as did my anxiety. Not quite as low as I was that fateful night, at least, but low enough for my self esteem to plummet to levels it still hasn’t reached again. That wasn’t helped by the fact that I constantly associated myself with a character that was lonely, depressed, and tired in general.
Eventually I had the unconscious realization that I had to find something else to split my focus with. For a little bit that was Star Dream, but ultimately it didn’t stick. I’m very close to someone who really likes Meta Knight, so I tried to fixate on him, too. That didn’t last either. Marx was a definite no, given past experiences with several Marx fans sending me hate and death threats for not liking him.
Eventually I realized the problem was that I didn’t relate to any of these characters in a meaningful way. There was nothing to latch onto for me. So, I went back to square one in having to figure out what my identity was, just minus Nova. Which was a lot harder than I’d like to admit. Seriously, even my favorite color was because of Nova.
My goal eventually became to find someone that had aspects of Nova that wouldn’t encourage me to identify as lonely and depressed at all times, who was strong and independent and likable and maybe even not a background character! Like... MAGOLOR!
And then I fell in love with his pretty boat instead.
But! All that gave me something to work with; Lor was, in essence, a blank slate; had the bare minimum qualifications to be considered a character. Kinda like how I felt I had the bare minimum things to qualify as a person. It became a case of doing exactly what I did with Nova, but with the goal of making her like someone completely different and unexpected. I slapped on random personality traits I had or had had and decided, hey, this works, I can trick myself into being a new person by pretending it’s a character! Which was in essence exactly my process with Nova, just in a conscious manner this time.
It was around this time I first figured out I was asexual, thanks to my oldest sister, and how perfect was it that both my old and new obsessions were machines? Bam, they’re ace too, so now I have a medium to explore what that really means for me. Same thing happened when I realized I was panromantic. This happened with a lot of stuff as I learned more about myself via treating myself as characters that needed a happy ending.
Nowadays I’ve managed to separate myself a bit, and made Nova and Lor more than just The Staples Of My Identity. It still hurts a lot when people are mean about them, especially when it comes to old trauma, but not as much as it used to. Nowadays they’re just my big faves/comfort characters, but they’re still extremely important to me either way.
If you got this far, thank you for taking the time to read through this, it means a lot to me.
#ask response#ask to tag#long post#very long post#rambling#so yea I figured I might as well just. say everything#hopefully this clears some stuff up for people
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Have you ever considered making a YouTube channel? I would love to see the process of making your art!
I do think it’d be nice to make speedpaints but I currently don’t have any kind of video recording or editing programs with which to make them, ahah… also I can’t imagine anyone wanting to watch a speedpaint without some music on said video, and there is the small issue of youtube and copyright and all the songs I like presumably being Very Copyrighted
so it’s not a possibility I’d write off forever, but I don’t know how I’d make it happen right now :’>
but if it’s my art process you’re interested in, I can at least go through that step-by-step with some screenshots!
step 1: draft! usually either a very tiny chibi or barely more than a stick figure, my art always starts like this so I can figure out the pose without spending like an hour on a full-sized sketch that doesn’t even work in the end
this then gets resized to whatever size I want the final picture to be:
drawing at that size usually means the anatomy is pretty wonky though, and the lines are too thick and blurry to be much help for the actual lineart. if a background is vital to the whole piece it’ll get drafted here too, but with space backgrounds like in this I can just fit it in around the characters. (that’s generally terrible art advice though, please do not do as I do :’D)
step 2: sketch! still very rough, but a lot easier to work with later. I do anatomy sketches as I go but there’s rarely any need to keep those layers
I don’t usually “colour” sketches like this but knowing I’d be sharing this I wanted to make it more readable, since this is still what I would consider an unpresentable mess not worth posting uvu;;
(also if I’m doodling, this part sorta gets skipped in favour of just letting the lines be a bit sketchier and rougher than usual)
step 3: lineart! literally the worst part always.
it’s worth it in the end, but… yeah this isn’t ever the point where I’m like “yes this is a Good Picture that I Will Be Happy With :)”
(I do lineart with SAI’s default pencil brush at a size of 3 to 5, opacity around 75%, if that’s of any interest)
step 4: flat colours! I have probably the slowest possible way of doing this, but after how tiring lineart is I find it pretty relaxing taking my time filling each colour in under the lines. every individual colour gets its own layer so they can all be shaded individually too
if I’ve drawn the same character in that same outfit before this is also where I’ll do the line colours, but those rely on being darker than the shading of each colour, so for a character or outfit I’ve not drawn before that can’t be done until after the shading. fortunately not the case here!
generally shading would be next, but there also comes a point where I have deal with the background now or I’ll be even more frustrated by it later, so - step ???: background! whether I do it lined or lineless pretty much just depends on if there’s any straight lines involved
…backgrounds are kinda too individual to explain in general, but for this specific one all the starry details are luminosity layers. stars are done with this brush but I do quite a bit of erasing and hand-drawing stars too, and I use SAI’s default brush set to spread for galaxies
step 5: shading! aka the best part, the point where I go “oh hey this looks decent actually. when did that happen”
my usual shading style is every colour gets 2 darker shades and 1 lighter shade, each shade getting its own clipping layer attached to each colour. this was more obvious when I used to cel shade but soft shading makes my art look so much better ahah
step 6: layer effects! multiply and luminosity layers have been my go-to for the past 4 years, but I can’t believe I only realised how good overlay layers are in the last year and a half. they’re so good
here’s the specific effects being used here:
aaand step 7: final touches! usually consists of any glowy outlines, text or things that need blurring in photoshop, a final luminosity layer at around 10 to 20% opacity for extra highlights (especially needed for dark scenes like this, those darker layer effects tend to make the regular highlights from the shading less vibrant), slap a watermark on there and call it done
and then you’re ready for step 8: spend an hour staring at every pixel for mistakes, before spending another hour fighting the anxiety about posting it
bonus: even though I can’t make a speedpaint I can throw all those screenshots into a poor quality gif for you to watch, at least!
one final thing I can mention: not including the draft and sketch layers or all the parts of the advent calendar windows, just the finished art itself - this is made up of 102 layers. and that’s with me merging a lot of layers because SAI has a layer limit and takes an eternity to save if there are too many. people who can draw a whole piece on a single layer confuse and frighten me
#anonymous#holoskart asks#holoskart rambles#honestly my art process is just a bunch of weird habits I wouldn't recommend imitating :'D but I hope this is interesting enough??#also sorry for taking a while to answer this! I probably could've used a piece I'd already finished to explain all this#but it seemed better to work on something with the intention of showing each part of it#long post //#wip
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Everyman with a story (Fighter collection)
Ok, down to the last one of the first batch of four classes. And the trickiest one by far... there’s gonna be a lot of write-up.
There’s almost nothing to grasp concept or visuals-wise with the Fighter, at least from a first glance. Are they a more padded Barbarian? A stripped-down Paladin? Perhaps a more nicely armored Ranger? It’s always hard to with identifying Fighters (and sometimes with martial classes in general).
I was a little familiar with the fourth edition of the game, a Voldemort in a lot of tables and groups, specifically for the sole reason that D&D, at some point, wanted to go full MMORPG with the mechanics, especially with the combat (did not think of “computer-based” when I thought “cinematic”, but oh well; that’s what they were driving for). One memory I had tho was its interpretation of humans which had the post-fallen empire storyline for the better part of the edition.
Image by WOTC
There was something interesting about the way they looked and even their followup art guide, “Wizards Presents: Classes and Races” felt like they needed to talk more of it.
“Carpe Diem” became their battle cry. This led me to the reckless, scavenged, and asymmetrical aesthetic first developed in 3rd Edition. Humans don’t care if their boots match their gloves—hell, they don’t care if their boots match each other. Piecemeal suits of armor, military haircuts, and unshaven faces became ubiquitous. Humans don’t have ten years to spend crafting a single sword, or fifty years to hone an art, so they become Jacks-of-All-Trades. I thought that humans, being so young, would be the only race that would use representational art: tattoos, heraldry, crests, standards, and so on. The other races were more sophisticated and had “matured” into abstract art.
- William O’Connor
I liked this idea a lot in a sense that it somehow allowed me to visualize a kind of spectrum to the visuals of the Fighters and, perhaps, a bunch of other classes in the future, with the Fighter settling somewhere in the middle - moderately armored but fairly capable defense-wise.
First pre-sketch
I tried sketching with this aesthetic reference as a jump-off of point to something modern, but felt like it wasn’t taking the design anywhere. I looked into other design references, again from the “Classes and Races” book.
Image by WOTC
Guy on the far left took my attention. Obviously, he’s more at the newbie level which, I think, gives a kind of relatability. But the fact that he is obviously rocking an almost-awkward mix of leather, plate, and scale for armor is what really drew me in (the other two are a hot mess too, but they’re probably good for future references).
Image by WOTC
Third pre-sketch
At this rate, I was just clearly trying things out at random, still convinced there was something missing. I made a few attempts at going at the class by its archetypes (more on those once we go to each this week), and they seem to have a vibe of their own, which is great, but needed some kind of base design reference to tie them all down.
I looked up a video from Web DM on how Fighters can roleplay and behave in the world of the game. There was a mention of how this central-like plotline for the Fighter can happen, which revolves around the fact that majority have a fairly humble if not mundane existence that they either willed (or someone else willed) into a life adventuring and action, making the Fighter a kind of everyman that wants to get noticed (and is noticeable at most times).
Second pre-sketch
I’ve gotten used to sketching in this stack of unlined notebooks I picked up from the markets in Divi. My ideal writing material, you see. No lines, just doodles, code, diagrams, rants, quotes, sketches. I flipped thru the stretch of designs I did and somehow came to wondering how, in modern terms, it’s as if the silhouettes, once tight enough, could be like stylized tracksuits of sorts. I’ve seen decided to consider it as the base for everything else to stand on, considering that (if you noticed the Cleric collection), slapping just about on a hoodie is not only possible, but it’s been a thing already of the 2010s.
I should really keep away from mostly dark motifs, personally. I’ll have to make sure.
=====
This blog is part of the first batch of collections under my Current Ideas project, where I make modern D&D character class fashion design sketches for flexible use in cosplay and casual wear, of which you can see more collections at:
Current ideas (D&D Modern character fashion collections)
Current ideas (D&D Modern character fashion collections) - Recap
#sewing#sewist#sewn#sew#clothes#clothing#fashion#fashion design#fashion sketches#dnd#dungeons and dragons#dnd 5th edition#dnd 5e#dnd character
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Right-Side Up AU, Part Three: It’s the End of the World
{AO3} {tumblr} {Part One} {Part Two}
Chapter One → The Theater
“Jane Eleanor Hopper!” Max pounded on the door. “If you and Mike are making out in there, I swear to God I’m gonna kill you!”
El pulled away from her and Mike’s kiss, her hair hitting against her face as she sharply turned to face the door. “Uh-huh,” she called, as Mike giggled, “And how is that any of your business?”
“You’ve been sucking face in there all day and we have to go!”
El groaned and turned the radio up. “Never Surrender” was playing on the mixtape Jonathan had taught her how to slap together, and she wasn’t going to let Max ruin everything right now.
“We’ve got, like, five minutes.” El shrugged.
Mike laughed, pushing a curl behind his ear- his hair had started to get curly recently, which both he and El thought was the coolest thing they’d ever seen. “Five minutes.” he nodded.
Max pounded on the door again. “El! El, the boys are gonna explode!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you!” El called, and Mike happily helped her by holding out his hand and using his powers to turn the volume up even farther. El giggled, and then stared as Mike started to dramatically sing along, grabbing her hands and bouncing on the cot.
He’d moved into a spare room in the Byers’ house until Nancy could get her temporary custody- even though she was eighteen now, it was apparently taking Owens a while to process the papers or some shit. Thankfully it wasn’t too hard on the Byers- Nancy had taken a job to help support Mike, even though Joyce tried multiple times to refuse her offers of money until Jonathan finally told her, “Mom, there’s no stopping Nancy, just let her take care of her little brother.” Jonathan and Nancy both got jobs at the Hawkins Post as interns, which seemed to be helping things a bit, even with the new mall driving away a lot of the customers at Joyce’s store- a lot of customers, really, so since Hopper was pretty busy breaking up riots and protests, the girls tended to spend all day with the Byers and the boys, which worked out perfect for them.
The room wasn’t really all Mike’s yet- for his own safety, he rarely went into town, and he didn’t want to bother the Byers by asking for trinkets or decorations. But Will had helped him put some drawings and art on the wall, and he had a corkboard from Nancy that he used to hang pictures and scraps. His favorite books were piled at the end of the cot, and El had made sure to bring him extra blankets and books and stuffed animals that she could smuggle out to him or force on him during holidays. (For his part, he liked to give her little doodles or used books he thought she’d like, which was probably the most adorable thing in the world.)
“Mike, Mike, stop!” El laughed as Mike continued singing and bouncing.
“What?” He stopped, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t like it?”
“No!”
They heard what sounded like a kick from the door. “El, open it or I’m telling Hopper it wasn’t open three inches!”
El groaned and turned the radio down. “Hell’s sake, Max, Dad can’t do shit about it!”
“He and Nancy-”
“What are they gonna do?” El called, as Mike leaned onto her shoulder, still laughing. “Split us up for a year again? Mike’s got freaking superpowers.”
“So do these three very impatient boys who wanna see a damn movie! Card games aren’t gonna cut it forever!”
Mike’s eyes widened. “They’re doing card games out there? El, can we do card games?”
El leaned over, flicking the radio off. “Sounds like we better head to the theater. Guess we’ll just have to make out in the back row during the exciting bits.”
“Is that allowed?” Mike asked, shocked that this was a possibility. “Isn’t it against the rules?”
El grabbed his hand, helping him to his feet. “Something Max taught me, bud; I make my own rules. And speaking of Max, she’s gonna murder us.”
“I’ll protect you.” Mike said, beaming.
“We’re coming out!” El shouted at the door.
“Finally!” Max groaned. “I’ll get the boys!”
“We’re finally moving out, dorks!” Max said, opening the door to Will’s room.
Will and the boys were spread out on the floor, three cards in the middle of their circle. Lucas cheered and started to get up, until Dustin said, “Wait, wait! One more!”
“Come on, we finally got Mike and El to move!” Lucas said.
“We’re almost done!”
“Steve’s not gonna be on shift forever!”
“Sure seems like it!”
“Just hurry up.” Max groaned, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.
Will nodded and turned to the cards. He pointed at the one in the center, and Dustin shut his eyes. “That’s…” he thought long and hard, and then said, “Ace of diamonds?”
“Color?” Lucas asked.
“Red, dipshit, diamonds are always red.”
Will flipped over the card, and then he and Dustin cheered as they saw the solitary diamond on the front.
“Three in a row!” Dustin chanted, and Will joined in after a second. “Three in a row! Three in a row! Three in a row!”
“Great. We know you can predict playing cards.” Max smiled slightly. “Remind me to have you on my team for poker.”
“What’s poker?” Lucas asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
“Maybe I can show you later.” Max said, smirking at him.
“Or you could tell me now.”
Max took a deep breath, just as El and Mike came out, holding hands. “Alright, are we going or not?” El said.
“Sure, lovebirds.” Max groaned. “Alright, team. Move out.”
They turned into the hall, with El and Mike leaning on each others’ arms and giggling as they walked, and Will stuffing extra drawing paper into his jacket pocket, careful not to jostle his headphones- for if the theater got too loud- and Dustin and Lucas bickering over whose turn it was to take out the trash when they got home.
“Hey, hey, wait!” As they passed the kitchen, Joyce stopped in the doorway, pushing her hair out of her face. “When are you getting back again?”
“Won’t be later than Mike.” Max said, which caused Mike and Will to burst into laughter; lately, her and El had taken to referring to certain numbers as the boys’ names, which they thought was the funniest thing she’d ever done. “And it’s a safe movie, Ms Byers, I’ve seen it before.”
“And you’ll stay together?”
“Of course, Ms Byers.” El said. “Nobody’s getting lost.”
“You don’t want a chaperone?”
“Steve’ll be there.” Dustin said.
“Steve’s nineteen and has never once won a fight.”
“And I can throw things with my mind.” Mike reminded her. “And Lucas can use light as a projectile weapon.”
“Boom!” Lucas said.
Joyce sighed. “Okay. But if you need anything, I’m here, Jonathan and Nancy will be here in about an hour-”
“We know all the numbers,” Will nodded, “And Hopper’s on duty.”
“He’s not at that time of night, so you’ll have to either-”
“Call home or use the walkie.” Lucas nodded.
“We’ve got this covered, Mom.” Will grinned, giving her a quick hug. “This isn’t the first time we’ve gone out.”
“I know, but…” Joyce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The crowds keep getting bigger, and you’re not even supposed to be seen that much yet.”
“We won’t be.” El assured her. “The bigger the crowd, the more we blend in. Now we gotta go, or Steve won’t be able to take us to the theater.”
Joyce sighed. “Alright. You all have fun, okay?”
“Got it, Ms Byers!” Max nodded, and she grabbed a surprised Lucas’s hand and dragged him towards the door. “Thank you!”
“I don’t see why you don’t bring your own bike.” Lucas said as he chained their transportation to the bikerack, the way El had shown him.
“Well, I ride with El, and then I can go with you on the way back.” Max shrugged, crossing her arms. “It’s free bike rides.”
“You can ride a bike, though.”
“Lucas, sweetie,” El sighed, patting his shoulder, “She likes you.”
“Max likes all of us.”
“Jesus Christ, Lucas.”
“Come on!” Dustin said, tapping his foot and gesturing at the people going inside. “We don’t wanna get split up in the crowd or your Dad and Will’s mom and Nancy are going to kill us!”
“They won’t kill us.” Will said jovially, sliding his headphones on. “Just El and Max.”
“I’d rather not die by the hand of an angry parent,” El said, “When I’ve survived goddamn demogorgons. Now, come on, let’s hurry it up.”
They ran into the mall, grabbing hands and giggling as they pushed past crowds, ducking by people and trying to make their way to the ice cream shop on the lower level. People glared at them on occasion for pushing past or moving too fast, but they didn’t really care until El slid to a sudden stop, pushing the group back.
“Oh, shit!” El had recognized a face. “I think she saw us!”
“Who?” Lucas asked.
“Into the store!” El pushed Mike through the door, and the boys quickly followed. El and Max linked arms, just as Karen Wheeler walked by, hand-in-hand with little Holly, who was holding a dripping ice cream cone.
“Hello, girls.” Karen said warmly.
“Hi, Ms Wheeler.” the girls said in unison. “How’s Nancy?” El asked.
Karen smiled. “She’s fine. How are you?”
“We’re good.” Max knelt down and waved at the little girl. “Hello, Holly.” She gestured to the ice cream. “Did you see Steve?”
Holly shook her head. “Robin! She’s not as nice.”
“Holly, be polite.” Karen chided.
“You’re doing great at remembering names, Hol.” El complimented. “Max and I are just heading to the movies. You going?”
“Oh, no, Holly and I are heading home. It’s getting late.”
“Well, we’ll see you around!” El waved, hoping that wasn’t as obvious a plea for her to leave as it felt. Thankfully, Karen just waved and walked off with her youngest.
Lucas stumbled out the door once Karen was gone and said, “That store’s weird, they just sell underwear.”
“Shit.” Max opened the door, and saw with relief that the boys hadn’t wandered far. Dustin and Will walked by her, chatting about something, while Mike, his face quite blank, simply walked over to El and grabbed her hand.
“Hey. Do you want to say hi?” El asked, glancing back at the disappearing Karen and Holly.
Mike, refusing to look around, shook his head. “Not yet. I… I still don’t…”
“It’s okay.” El squeezed his hand. “Not ready, I get it. Let’s go see that movie, huh?”
“Yeah.”
After pushing their way down an escalator, they managed to duck into Scoops Ahoy, lit up with a bright fluorescence. The group rushed past the tables, ignoring the occasional glance from other customers, and Dustin ran to the counter and pounded on the bell, ignoring the fact that Robin was standing precisely half a foot from him.
“Hey, dingus!” Robin called, rolling her eyes, “Your children are here!”
Steve swung open the back window, saying, “Dustin, Lucas, how many times, you can’t be coming out this much, Will and Mike-”
Robin started. “Wait, are they actually your kids?”
“Long story.” Lucas said with a smile, as he grabbed Will’s hand and directed them towards their temporary guardian.
“Thanks, Robin!” Dustin said cheerily as they ducked into the Staff Only room.
Steve sighed and moved to the back, opening the back door that led to the maintenance hallways. As the children moved past him, he said, “We will talk about this!”
“Okay!” Dustin shrugged.
“And if anybody hears about this-!”
“We’re dead!” all six of them replied.
They walked a few feet, and then El pushed open the right door, gave a few quick glances, and said, “All clear!”
They ran out into the hallway of the mall’s movie theater, and made a beeline for Day of the Dead. “This is way better than buying tickets.” Max grinned.
“Is it?” asked Lucas, who hadn’t yet had the opportunity to buy a movie ticket.
“Come on, it’ll be crowded!” El said, as she once again leaned onto Mike’s shoulder. “Do we wanna sit together or not?”
“Not if you and Mike are gonna be gross!”
El flipped her off as they raced in, ducking through the aisles and thankfully spotting six empty seats in the middle of a row.
“Lucas, sit by me!” Max whispered, grabbing his hand.
Lucas blinked. “Um, okay. Why?”
“Because I like sitting by you, you’re fun!”
“So are Will and Dustin-?”
“Is he serious?” El asked Mike, as they carefully made their way past the other people seated in the row.
“Lucas is always serious.” Mike informed her.
“We’ve been dating for six months, he’s gotta pick up on crushes by now.”
“Not likely.” Mike giggled.
They found their seats, and Max unfortunately found herself next to Mike and El. She groaned and turned to Lucas, whispering something about how they were gonna be gross the whole time, while Will sat beside Lucas and pulled his headphones down slightly.
“We missed previews.” Dustin seemed a bit upset.
“Still made it.” El said, leaning over and shooting him a grin. “See? We weren’t that late, Max.”
“Shut up.” Max said, pulling out her backpack and passing out drinks they’d smuggled in.
The movie began, then, with a shot of a woman sitting alone in a white room. The boys’ eyes widened, entranced; no matter how many times the girls had snuck them into a theater, they still found movies on such a huge screen to be the most incredible thing. Probably a side-effect of not having films for twelve years, and then suddenly being tossed into the world and able to see whatever they wanted, whenever they could.
The woman was staring at a calendar, and just then, the screen flickered. They all groaned as the projector shuttered out behind them, and the lights shut down. Will shoved his headphones back on as everyone started shouting.
“Another power outage? Can’t Starcourt Mall get its shit together?” Lucas huffed.
“It’s not gonna be dark for long, is it?” Mike asked, and El quickly shook her head.
“It’s not the mall, it’s the whole town. Power grid’s been busted for the last month or so.” El explained. “Dad says the rioters like to blame the mall, but it’s just some faulty wiring, it’ll get fixed soon-”
Just then, the lights and projector flickered back on, and the movie continued. Everyone cheered, and Will lowered his headphones once people stopped clapping.
Max, meanwhile, felt her face fall. There was something… wrong. She shivered slightly, some sort of tingle spreading over her as the film continued. It wasn’t the movie itself, it was… was it the power outage? She’d never been spooked by power outages before.
It took her a second to realize how vaguely familiar the shiver was. She’d felt it, all last year, whenever…
El grabbed her hand. “Hey. You okay?”
Max jumped, startled, but nodded quickly. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, of course.” Max slowly grabbed her coke, opening the bottle with a fizz. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”
El shrugged and leaned over to whisper something in Mike’s ear. And as she did, Max tried her best not to look frightened. Lucas glanced at her worriedly, too, and she really hoped he couldn’t tell exactly why she was freaked out.
The Mind Flayer is not back, Max. It was just a weird power outage.
You’re fine. Everything’s fine. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong at all.
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It seems like this has become a habit, me returning after some weeks or month of silence and inactivity to inform you of my whereabouts and that I still breathe, replying to old old notes, throwing in some art, promising that I try to be more active only to disappear shortly after again...
For a detailed look and some asks, there is the cut
You clicked it! Marvelous!
Sorry to disappoint tho, there is actually not much to say.
University has gotten even more annoying and time consuming than ever before, which is... astounding, really.
I tried to work harder, more efficient, to earn me some free time every evening for drawing and what not. In the end I just made more room for even more university stuff, which I desperately needed, because this semester is a nightmare.
When I still tried to draw despite everything I got majorly art-blocked...
I’m heading straight into an exam phase with “only” 11 exams left, I already got one down, and honestly, I’m at a point where I don’t even care anymore...
I missed a real cool con, I’ll not be able to visit friends from the US that happen to be in Germany for a while, I missed a vacation with my mom, I abandoned all social media because it really dragged me down to not be able to show some scribbles...
I’m currently doing the below average stuff for university which still takes up most of my time, but I draw again and I play games with friends whenever I can and I feel ok.
Thanks for reading this...
And now the asks that have been lying around in my inbox for too long, sorry about that!
znoybird hat gesagt: Just found your through the tf2 "seatbelt, spy!" picture and I'm so glad I did your art looks fantastic and so expressive just hnngg ;u; Bless you, mate you're amazing.
@znoybird Thank you so much : D!
Anonym hat gesagt: ok aber....wO HAST DU POSEN ZEICHNEN GELERNT es sieht alles so unglaublich gut aus!! :0
Danke?!?! Ich weiß nicht, hatte mal figure drawing in Ausbildung und Studium, aber ich find’ eigtl eher, dass meine Posen doch sehr unterirdisch sind...
kokorocala hat gesagt: Just saying, watching gay, dusty, old mercenary bastards having flirty relationships despite what their strict worker contracts stipulates validate me in ways RuPaul's Drag race and any other mainstream queer media never could, This shit slaps hard
@kokorocala Hehh, glad to be of service!
Anonym hat gesagt: please post your nsfw art somewhere please please maybe on tf2chan... i've saved like 98% of your tf2 art doodles here so i never lose them... the nsfw community deserves your art, it is so expressive!!
Oh boy, thanks a lot! Glad you like my stuff, although I think you might be confusing me with someone else? In my entire online life I’ve posted, like, three (3) nsfw drawings (not including gore pictures), so there is not much that you’re missing here
oldboyjensenhinglemeier hat gesagt: Your art is a major joy and inspiration, and I hope you have a good day!
@oldboyjensenhinglemeier Thank you so much : D
Anonym hat gesagt: What program do u use to draw??
I use Painttool Sai! Sometimes Procreate.
Anonym hat gesagt: (same anon from the slickpaint/epilogue ask) i don't shame you from not reading the epilogues, it's not for everyone. I read candy and then lost interest on reading meat. I'll probably read it sometime, but it's definitely not a priority, specially because there's no crew (or even jack noir, for that matter) in it.
Ohh have you picked up on reading it? Has Jack appeared in the epilogue yet? Or any of the guys? I haven’t checked the internet nor any homestuck related stuff recently, I’m absolutely oblivious to the things happening here
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Hi. I am really into old school (bxw, your grandmas sofa gingham, etc.) but I'm not that confident in actually creating designs that don't just feel like some generic brand copy. I'm also slightly too big for most old school brand so it's not like I own a lot. Also could you please cover some techniques that old blouses (meta, baby, etc.) use to make them look more detailed/textured. (Bonus points for lace collars because I'm never that satisfied with mine). Thanks in advance and for the blog
Okay, starting out, when I’m stuck figuring out how to design something to make it stay within a world or time period, but not a copy, I start with a ~~MOOD BOARD~~
Kind of like this, but usually with way more details. This is just a bunch of blouses from pre-2006 that I grabbed from lolibrary, slapped together. If I was making this as a mood board for myself, I’d probably put about three times as many images on it. In addition to stock images of blouses, I’d put street snaps that I like, pictures off google images, pictures off Closet of Frills and old school lolita comms, people’s personal blogs, bootlegs of GLBs that I totally don’t have saved on my computer...
The reason why I did this board so simply instead of attaching all of that to it and making a more complete idea board is that I needed to share this with people. My idea boards are always intended just for me, so I don’t pay ANY attention to sourcing or licensing or using pictures that I don’t have rights to. I can’t post my mood boards here, because it would be a major copyright and personal space violation. So we’ll use this one as a sample instead, and be aware that it’s incomplete.
Now that you have an idea board, in which you complied every vaguely related image that you liked, you can go through this board and pick the components that you like out of those images.
Things I noticed from this, lots of shirred fronts, rounded collars with stands instead of rounded roll collars, and a really common tendency to have some form of detail on the princess line. Detail on the bottom of the shirt is optional. Bibs and bib-level details are common. The main thing I noticed is that the shoulder seams are longer than on modern lolita blouses, making something closer to a dropped sleeve. The puff at the top of the sleeve cap is lower, as well.
I’m not trying to describe ALL old school blouses there. That’s a very vague time period and concept. Is your “old school” in 2001, or 2009? Honestly, at this point, I’d try to initially populate your mood board with coords that you like the aesthetic of and that include blouses, instead of trying to search exclusively for old school blouses.
Once you have an idea of what world you’re picking from, grab yourself a piece of paper and divide it into quarters. Just start doodling yourself some blouses. Start by doing four, and then see if you feel the need to do some more. Grab your favorite collar looks and add it to your favorite button placket. Go crazy, and definitely design more than one. You don’t always have your best idea on the first try and it’s important to not lock yourself into an idea without looking at other options.
I’ll get back to you on drafting rounded roll collars and proprotioning lace to them. That needs its own tutorial.
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As Old As Time [3/?]
Pairing: teen!Richie Tozier x black!fem!Reader
Warnings: cursing
Author's Note: Howdy! Long time, huh? I apologize for my sudden hiatus, but I’m feeling a lot better now and will be posting regularly again (I hope). This had been sitting in my drafts 90% done for a while. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece and don't hesitate to give your plot suggestions! P.S. I one unicillion percent picture Robert Sheehan as older Richie, who you you see?
Tags: @thotyana-in-this-hoe @neeadinghugs
Masterlist Black Girl Insert Series
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
* * * * * *
"And, that way, if you were to be alive when scientists turn us all into merpeople, we would already have thought up how to procreate, so we would be famous scientists and then you could spend all school afternoons with me instead of working." Richie finishes up as you make your way up the stairs to your door.
Shaking your hand out of Richie's, you grab the open flap of his shirt before he can get any closer to the door, "Before we go in, I am warning you that my parents are tough. You will not be allowed upstairs, so please, while I'm grabbing new shoes and washing the grape soda from my legs, please cuss as little as you can and don't make any jokes about sleeping with me. Or my mom."
Richie nods and grabs the doorknob, "I think I know not to be a jackass in front of your parents, Y/N. They definitely wouldn't let me bang you after that." Before you can scold Richie, he's rolling his eyes, "I'm not completely stupid, Y/N, besides, parents love me. I'm gonna charm the shit out of your parents, and you're gonna owe me one hell of an apology."
Snorting, you push Richie's hand from the doorknob and insert your key, "Hey Mommy, hi Dad. I have to change into some running shoes. This is Richie, he walked me home." You're running up the stairs before your mother has made her way to the base of them.
"Are you the boy that was banging on my door this morning?" She asks with a harsh brow. Richie has heard myths of the wrath of a black mother, and if he's being completely honest, he's as excited as he is terrified. He is one of the chosen few to get the relationship talk. "Yes ma'am. Richie Tozier. I didn't mean to cause a disturbance, I just thought Y/N stood me up."
Lifting a brow, your mom gestures for Richie to follow her into the dining room, "Stood you up? Y/N didn't tell me she had a date." Richie takes a seat at the dining room table with your father, "Well, to be fair, I didn't exactly tell her it was a date. I was the one who was super vague, then I came over here all butt hurt. We went to the movies today though, and we're gonna meet some of my friends at the parade."
Your mom hums softly, amused with the chatty boy looking around her dining room. "Turkey or ham, Richie?" Richie takes a pause in looking at the pictures on the nearby shelf and adjusts his glasses, "Oh. Um, ham."
"What do you guys do at the parade?" Your dad asks, taking a bite from his own sandwich. Richie scoffs, "Nothing exciting. It's a shitty parade, but Y/N might like it. And I'll get to show her around town." Richie was a little nervous about your father, but despite your warning, both of your parents seem like a delight to him.
Richie's about to ask for embarrassing childhood stories when your mom puts a plate in front of him, hearty sandwich in tow. "Thanks." Richie says, nearly dumbfounded by what has to be the king of cold cut sandwiches.
Lifting the article, Richie takes a bite, groaning in approval, "This is so good. I gotta tell ya, I love my mom, and I thought I loved her sandwiches, but I'm afraid that the next time she gives me two slabs of bread with a slice of cheese and a sliver of meat, I will be obligated to tell her to kiss my ass."
You enter the dining room just at this moment, your mouth falling open. Time seems to move in slow motion while you wait for your mom to slap the taste out of both of you, but she just laughs and takes your dad's plate, "Tell her I'm happy to lend her the recipe."
Your sigh of relief gives you away and Richie points to his sandwich, "Y/N, your mom is the best cook. Have you had one of these sandwiches? They're fucking art." Richie still has most of his sandwich to go, so you sit beside him at the table, "You should taste her actual cooking."
As soon as you say it, a light bulb goes off in Richie's mind, "Yeah! Can I stay for dinner tonight?" He's speaking around a mouthful of sandwich, but the question is understandable. "I'd love to have you over for dinner Richie, but you need to ask your parents before I let you place responsibility for your life in my hands. I'll be happy to let you go home today and eat with us tomorrow. I'll take your plate and you and Y/N can go on to the parade."
Giving your mom and dad a quick kiss before you go, you try to leave before they can ask about your need for new shoes and socks. Just before you close the door, your mom calls for you and you're sure you're busted, but instead of questioning you, she laughs softly and moves where you can see her from the door, "Have fun on your date."
Richie hears and pokes his head back inside, "Thanks, Mrs. Y/L/N." He says, remembering the name doodled on your notebook. Richie closes the door behind the two of you and hops cheerfully down the stairs, "That went great! Hey, do you think your mom would care about cheating on your dad with a white dude, because, my dad -"
You cut him off before he can finish whatever silly thing he was about to say, "You told my parents this was a date?" For the briefest of moments, Richie looks embarrassed, but he uses the special Tozier method of getting himself in order quickly and shrugs a shoulder, "I told them that earlier was a date. They probably just took this as a date, which makes sense."
Scoffing, you step into the street and toss the basketball there to the other side of the street onto the sidewalk, "All of your friends are going to be there. That doesn't make sense." Richie retaliates by pulling a cigarette from his pocket, "Then it'll be a group date."
Now the two of you stand in a face off in the middle of the sidewalk, you brandishing your pen, and Richie with his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he lights it. "None of them will have dates." You point out, but Richie refuses to give up, "You will though. You're welcome."
Snorting, you break your little stand-off and continue walking, "We're all just going to be hanging out." You add dismissively. Richie gives a nod and a puff of smoke, "Definitely. We'll all be hanging out, on our date. Now, do you know where the parade is, or are you gonna wait a moment so I can take that precious hand of yours and lead you?"
"Or, you can actually move so I'm not the only one walking and we can get there on time." You stop, waiting for Richie to get beside you. Once he's by your side, Richie hold his hand out for yours, "You ready now?" Shaking your head with a soft snort, you put your hand in Richie’s, “Lead the way, Tozier.”
#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier#richie tozier imagine#it 2017 imagine#it 2107#it 2k17#richie tozier it#black reader insert#black fangirls#black girl insert series#bgis#xblackreader#black!fem!reader#the losers club#losver
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careful ch4 - john deacon x reader
summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and befriend the sweetest man on the planet.
words: 4k+
warnings: swearing (and tension ;0)
author’s note: keep forgetting to mention that this fic happens in late july 1974! there are a few inaccuracies concerning brian’s illnesses and newspaper articles but, hey, it’s a fic, right? according to googe though, norwegian wood, really does have waltz time! and it’s a hella good song. thank you for all the love <3
[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]
chapter four
Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest as you looked in the mirror on that fateful saturday morning.
Your hair was falling around your bare shoulders. You’d gone with a bright red tank top and blue overalls that cut off mid thigh, as the meteorologist had promised a hot afternoon. Nervously you pouted at the mirror and tried to look cute, but you felt ridiculously silly.
You had called Rose on friday night in a panic.
“What the fuck do I wear? I can’t just wear my training clothes they’re ugly as shit,” you were babbling on while Rose had laughed.
“You’re so nervous, it’s adorable.”
“Rose,” you had warned.
“Listen, it’ll be alright, put on something you can move in, but not something dumpy, it’s not like you’ll be bending over backwards with a couple of beginners.”
You had sighed and nibbled on your nails, the chewing sound traveling through the phone.
“Oi, don’t bite your nails, it’s a bad habit!” Rose had scolded you. You had stopped immediately, feeling slightly ashamed.
“See, I’ll do something like this, something embarrassing and he’ll leave me forever,” you had whined.
“If he leaves you for that, he was going to leave you anyway,” she had replied nonchalantly.
“Not helpful,” you had groaned and rubbed your forehead.
“It’ll be fine. It’ll be great.” Rose had insisted and you calmed down slightly. “Now go to sleep. You don’t want to be a raccoon tomorrow.”
“Don’t make me regret calling you, I was expecting support.” You had pretended to be offended. “You know what’s worse? I feel silly, like I shouldn’t be this excited for a date- or whatever you call this. Like I’m doing myself a disservice.”
“You don’t have to go all prude just because you love dance.”
“Hey!” You had snapped. “You love dance too, and when d’you last have a girlfriend?”
“Oi, that’s not what I mean, I mean, you can balance things. If you can do an arabesque you can metaphorically arabesque your life.”
“That’s the worst analogy I’ve ever heard.”
“Alright, alright,” there had been a lightness to her voice. “But I’m serious, stop obsessing, go to bed. It’s one of those ‘you’ll understand when you need to’ moments.”
“Bullshit but, I will go to bed, thank you, because I need the sleep, not because you told me to.”
“That’s right, sleep well.”
“Goodnight you righteous bastard.”
Rose had been right, it was pointless to worry about the stretch of your clothes when at most you’d probably get to the fourth position. She could’ve been right about your love life too, but you were stubborn and refused her help.
You glanced in the mirror once more before grabbing your purse and keys and heading out.
The weatherman had hit the mark, sort of. The sun was shining strongly but there was a certain electricity in the air, which entailed a thunderstorm. The hairs on your arms stood on end as your converse slapped on the hot pavement.
The tube was crowded with children on their way to the park, excitedly babbling at their parents about their last daydream. Your stomach coiled with anxiety and you squeezed your purse so tightly your knuckles turned white. You were sure you looked a right sight, and suddenly felt embarrassed. The whole world was shouting around you, perhaps about you, and you wanted to sink in through the tube floor and into the tunnel. You shuddered at the thought of the cold wetness as the metro pulled into your stop.
The address John had given you by another flashy post-it delivered to an overly curious receptionist (this time with a little doodle of his face with a poor stick figure body holding what you assumed was a bass guitar. Didn’t really look like one) lead to a small, but not rundown, studio graced with the EMI Records logo on the front door.
You knocked on the glass gently, but when nobody came to open you tried the handle and found that the door was unlocked. The hallways echoed with bickering and the occasional strum of a guitar. “Hello?” You asked, your voice caught in your throat. You coughed a bit and tried again. “Excuse me?” The sound clattered off the walls, but didn’t stop the bickering.
You continued down the dimly lit corridor with black and white checkered floor tiles and flyers and posters tacked on the walls with no apparent order or reason. Occasionally, you passed a door with a blurry window and a sign saying ‘recording room’ and a number. You pressed your ear to the wall to try and locate the guitar strumming which sounded without a doubt like Brian May’s red special.
You were concentrating on the sound on the other side of a door marked ‘recording room 3’ when the door swung open and nearly hit you on the nose. You stood there, bewildered, hands clutched over your face in a feeble attempt to protect what Rose called the ‘moneymaker’, eyes locked with John’s grey ones, which were slightly widened at the sight of you.
“Careful,” he let a soft smile rise on his cheeks. “I could’ve broken your nose.”
“Is it my fault you have such an aggressive style of opening doors,” you scolded him.
“Didn’t your parents teach you not to eavesdrop?” He raised his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes but smiled at him.
“Deaky! Who’re you talking to? Is Paul back with our coffee?” A high-pitched voice you pinpointed as Roger’s rang from the room.
“Actually, it’s your dance teacher!” You called out over John’s shoulder, then shot him a glance. “Deaky?” You whispered confused.
“Don’t mind it, it’s just a nickname,” he shrugged.
“Alright,” you smiled. “I still like John, though,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, before allowing him to gently take your hand and lead you into the studio.
You felt very exposed once you’d entered the studio, swinging back and forth on your black vans. The band (minus John) was on a little stage, tending to their instruments, Freddie’s hands set on the piano keys, as if he was hesitating to play. When he saw you got up and crossed the room to you at lightspeed.
“Hello, lovely to meet again,” he flashed his famous smile that had been subject of criticism for too long in your magazine. You returned the expression and out of the corner of your eye saw Brian and Roger get up as well, but shoving each other slightly because of what you assumed was another disagreement on the band’s next album. John shot them a signature glare and they poised themselves.
“I’m not good at dancing,” Roger had a way of speaking you could only describe as a drawl. He shook your hand lightly. You felt his calloused skin scratching your palm slightly.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be doing anything too hard today, I promise,” you replied.
“Unless she’s here to make a fool out of all of us,” Freddie grinned.
“I’m nicer than that,” you said over your shoulder before turning and shaking Brian’s hand as well. He felt miles over you in height, especially combined with his hair.
“What’s with the formalities, we’ve met before, haven’t we?” Brian’s voice was warm and his eyes glimmered in the yellow studio light.
“That’s what you do, Brian, when John brings his girl over!” Roger said in the must duh voice. “We’ve got to make a good impression.” You felt redness prickle at your cheeks. His girl? What’d they think was going on? You shared a quick glance with John, who looked equally flustered.
You were still deciding whether to say something about Roger’s little quip when John opened his mouth to tell him off. “We’re here to dance, not scrutinize each other, right?” Roger stuck out his tongue and John rolled his eyes.
“Actually, we’re here to play music and Fred had a spark of ‘genius’ and now we’re here to dance.” Brian made little air quote signs around the word ‘genius’ before smiling at Freddie fondly to remind him that he was joking.
“Right, so, what’re we waiting for?” You huffed, your hands on your hips. “We need more space, you’ll need to push some things around.” When the boys stared at you incredulously for a moment you clapped your hands. “Hey, I’m a lady, I can’t do this by myself!”
John laughed and kicked Roger’s behind as he whined while they set to clearing a space in the center of the floor. “‘M not sure I like her anymore.” He said, rather loudly, but not too maliciously and you grinned at him from where you were helping Freddie shove the grand piano into the corner of the room.
A small, square, space opened in the centre of the room and all the boys rushed to fill a spot in it, each trying to ridiculously out-pose each other, raising their chins comically high and straightening their backs to the point of bending backwards. They were all excited to compete against the ‘best-ish dancer’ prize, falling over each other like little children.
“Alright, don’t worry, I’m not going to make you dance your feet off.” You giggled and helped them adjust themselves to be in the first position, narrating your adjustments. You got to John, who seemed to have figured it out by himself. No wonder, as the first position wasn’t particularly hard, but often beginners struggled maintaining their balance standing with their feet so close.
You continued, hearing the boys get increasingly more frustrated as the positions got harder. When you got to the fourth position, Roger was practically falling over and Brian was struggling with his long legs. Only Freddie and John had managed to somewhat keep their composure.
“This isn’t my favourite thing to do,” Brian mumbled courteously.
“Fuck ballet,” Roger seconded, not nearly as polite.
“Chin up boys, you can’t ever be as good as me, why complain about it?” Freddie grinned.
“How am I doing, Y/N?” John piped up softly.
“Perfect,” you grinned. “But,” you continued, “if you all hate ballet so much, we can try ballroom dancing instead, it’s a lot easier.”
The boys nodded eagerly, except John, who was stuck on the fact that this meant he might have to dance with you and he wasn’t exactly sure of what to do with that information. On one hand, he definitely wanted to lead you, but maybe not in a room with his best mates where he’d make a fool of himself with his clumsy moves. You made eye contact with him, blush on your cheeks, unsure of what he thought of your idea. His lips twitched into a small, nervous smile and you took a shaky breath.
“Right, so, pair up. Winner, best dancer, whatever,” you waved your hands around incoherently before continuing, “gets to dance with me.” The suggestion was silly, but to be fair, you were an uneven amount and you couldn’t just kick the rest of them to the curb and let John twirl you around, though that was all you really wanted.
“Oh she’s brilliant!” Freddie smiled before rushing over to John, who still had the most flabbergasted expression on his face.
“Do you have waltz music?” You peered around the studio. There was a small box of records on the edge of the stage and you rifled through it, picking up the vinyl for the Beatles’ album Rubber Soul.
“Big fan?” Freddie piped up from where he had taken John by the hands.
“Well, uhm, this was published when I was twelve so, maybe when I was a teen? Not really, but Norwegian Wood is in waltz time.” You dusted the cover and slipped out the record, putting it in the vinyl player. “I’ll show you the steps while we wait for Drive My Car to be over, and then you can lead each other to the beat of Norwegian Wood.”
Roger insisted on leading Brian despite being several inches shorter. Freddie was swishing his hair dramatically as John grabbed his waist.
“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me,” he muttered to you in passing as you adjusted their positions and you stifled your laughter.
Norwegian Wood began with an upbeat strumming of a guitar.
“I once had a girl
or should I say, she once had me…”
Brian kept tripping over his feet and Roger was by far the worst dancer you’d ever seen. Freddie and John were a bit more smooth but even they had their little hiccoughs. The song ended and you lifted the needle off of the vinyl.
“You guys did so well!” You grinned.
“Don’t lie,” Roger rolled his eyes.
You burst into laughter. “Okay, fair enough, John and Freddie did really well!” Freddie looked proud and John looked embarrassed to be called on.
“So who was the best?” John asked nervously.
You smiled at him and Freddie gave him a dramatic shove forward, despite definitely knowing he was the better half. John stumbled a bit before reaching you, slightly towering over you, taking your hands into his. Freddie moved to the vinyl player to place the needle back at the beginning of Norwegian Wood. Just as the folks-y strumming of guitar began, someone, you assumed was the Paul Roger had named earlier that day. At least he was carrying a tray with four cardboard coffee cups.
You and John flew apart like scattered mice, as if somebody had walked in on something truly scandalous. You looked at the floor embarrassed as Freddie lowered the volume of the song.
“Paul!” Brian greeted and grabbed a cup that had his name scrawled on with black pen. John walked over as well and took his cup and sipped it tentatively.
Paul was a relatively tall man with shaggy, almost ginger, hair, who spoke with a subtle Irish accent. “Eh, and who’s this?” He smiled at you, but his smile was a bit forced and you were both tense with each other.
“Y/N, hi,” you held out your hand and he set the tray of cups down and shook it. His hands were slightly clammy. In the end, Paul wasn’t nasty. He was just a bit stuck up and awkward. You let it slide and gave him a warm smile. He responded with a slightly stiff one, but that was it.
“Sorry, I didn’t get you coffee, never know when Roger’s bringing a girl about.”
You went red and John scoffed. “Yeah, she’s here with me,” he took your hand, squeezing it slightly. “She’s teaching us dance, remember?”
“Sorry,” Paul didn’t even flinch and continued to serve the coffee to Roger and Freddie who had grown a bit tense. Electricity crackled in the air, like the thunder storm you had thought of this morning.
You sat down on the couch. Roger and Brian immersed themselves in more arguing, pointing to each others notes. Freddie tapped out a few absent notes on the piano. John sat next to you.
“He’s an arse, always has been, always will be.” John muttered. “Take no note of it.”
You glanced up, and looked at him for a while. The yellow lighting of the room created dancing shadows on his sculpted face and light danced in his eyes. His uneven lips twitched upward at the right corner when he noticed you staring. “What? Have I got something on me?”
You shook your head. “No.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “I was just admiring you.” The silliness of the words, the romance that you had uttered made you turn away and lower your hand in embarrassment. John was over the moon, a soft smile splitting his face.
“You’re such a dork, Y/N,” he teased you. “If only I’d have known sooner, what a softie you are.”
“Oh please,” you scoffed, turning away but occasionally looking back at him with a smirk. .
“Do you want to help with something?” He suddenly turned to you, grey eyes sparkling.
“Sure, what is it?”
He set his cup down and dragged you up by the wrists. “Hey,” you laughed. “What’s going on?” Brian glanced at you two absentmindedly, two young lovers in his mind, giggling and enjoying the world. A gentle expression crossed his face before he went back to songwriting.
“Come, I’ll show you,” John only said secretively.
He lead you out of the room, further back into the studio until you arrived at a banged up door which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. The paint was peeling and some of the letters on the door had faded off so it said ‘re o ding ro m’ with a small number six that was more of just another ‘o’ because the stem had been rubbed off.
“They closed this part of studio down because keeping six recording rooms was unreasonable.” He took out a rusty key and twisted it in the lock. “So,” he opened the door with a creak. “I stole the space.”
The room smelt of ink and electronics. “Wow,” you breathed out, in awe. Posters of bands and bassists were tacked on the room as well as pictures of his band, and an article called ‘John Deacon, shutterbug at large’ with pictures taken by him surrounding the title text. Next to the back wall was a desk with a box connected to lots of wiring on it.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” He smiled as you turned around in the room, inspecting the little details.
“It’s so cool.” You jumped around in excitement. “Does the rest of the band know about this?”
John shook his head. “They think the key to the room was lost.”
“Brilliant. And evil, John.” You teased. “What’d you need my help for?”
John flicked his right pointer finger as he realised what he’d brought you here to do, and flashed a quick smile before digging in the drawers and fishing out a boxy polaroid camera. “Will you let me take a picture of you?”
You smiled gently. “You sure? I’m not that good of a model. Or particularly pret-” John cut you off by taking your hand.
“You’re absolutely perfect.”
You hesitated before nodding. “But only if you let me take one of you as well!”
John laughed and let you take a seat and pose slightly before there was a small click and a flash before the polaroid started coming out.
The picture was black and he placed it upside down on the desk, before handing you the camera. “Alright, I have no idea how this works,” you announced, fiddling with the camera. John gave you a wide grin, showing his tooth gap, eyes wrinkling and you snapped a photo.
“We need to place it upside down, so it develops well,” he instructed and tried to take the photo.
“Oh but you promise I get this one? To take home and all?”
“Absolutely,” he assured you.
“Okay, one more, then,” you took the camera from his unsuspecting hands and turned it so you couldn’t see what picture you were taking, only knowing that John was leaning close to you, breath tingling on your cheek and looking into the black lenses.
The photo rolled out and you set it down. John was looking at you adoringly. You turned to him, hips swaying a little bit. “D’you want to finish that dance?”
John took your waist hesitantly. “That’d be nice, yeah.”
“Can you sing? Norwegian Wood?”
John thought for a bit before taking a few small waltz steps, his voice starting low and scratchy.
He lead you gently, smoothly. You glided along his arms, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your waist. And god, you loved his voice. It was deep and soft but powerful. It rumbled from his vocal chords and sent shivers down your spine.
He finished the song, slowing down the beat slightly.
“So I lit a fire
Isn’t it good, Norwegian wood?”
On the last wood of the song, he spun you around slowly, and though you knew the song was about an arsonist burning down his almost one-night-stand’s house, it did really feel as if he’d lit a fire. It burned in your chest and reddened the blush on your cheeks. It sparkled in your hands and steamed where you were skin to skin.
Time stopped. You were both still slightly swaying even though the singing had stopped. Your eyes flicked to his lips and back to look into his grey eyes. You leaned very close, you could feel his breath on your face. He smelt of earthly cologne and breath mints.
There was only a few centimetres between your lips and his when thunder rumbled throughout London and startled you so bad you ducked and fell into his arms with a shriek. You both stood in stunned silence whilst you shook in his grip.
He chuckled slightly. “Are you afraid of thunder?” You looked up, chin pressing against his chest and nodded meekly.
He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. Fire burned where his lips touched your skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” And he wrapped his arms around you tighter and rocked back and forth slightly. After a few moments had passed, he said in a low voice: “D’you want to join the others?” To which you shook your head.
“I’m fine here.” You mumbled. “Sorry, I’m a bit daft.”
You felt John’s chest shake as he barked in laughter. “You’re so silly. You don’t need to apologise for anything. I’m just as well here.”
“Thank you.” You felt bad you hadn’t kissed him. Like your chance was gone with the wind, washed down the drain with the rainwater that storms brought from the sea.
Slowly you unraveled yourself from his arms and took the photographs off the desk and smiled at the one with the both of you on it. John insisted on pinning them all on the wall, except the one of himself, which you held from his reach, reminding him that it was yours to keep.
“Like you promised!” You yelled as you let him chase you around the room a bit before he caught you from the waist and pulled you into an iron grip where you squealed with laughter, still waving the photo far from his reach. He looked ridiculously adorable in the shot, his cute smile living in the photo, hair a little messed up.
The thunder rumbled again but you didn’t hear it over your own and John’s laughter. Happiness filled your heart and love pumped through your veins.
The day passed too fast and too soon you were exchanging goodbyes at the exit of the studio. The rain was pouring outside, but the air was still hot. The other members of the band had already said their ‘byes’ and teased her endlessly but goodnaturedly about disappearing for the larger part of an hour.
“You sure you’re okay going out on your own? I can drive you again, if you want?” His voice dripped with concern and his downturned eyes seemed sad.
“John, I’m going to be fine. The cab’s waiting, and I don’t think the driver would be too fond of me just popping over saying, ‘I’ve got another ride, bye.’”
He sighed and looked at you long through those grey, piercing eyes. A clap of thunder made you jump slightly. The hairs on your arms were stood on end. You regretted wearing the tank top. John saw you shiver and shrugged of his own jacket and gave it to you. You tried to protest but he reassured you.
“You can give it back the next time we’ll see each other.”
“Next time?” You whispered.
“Yeah.”
You smiled, and on your tiptoes leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “‘Till next time, John Deacon.”
“‘Till next time, Y/N Y/L/N.”
You ran through the rain to your cab, a goofy grin plastered across your face. If the driver had asked, you could’ve talked about this day forever, but instead, you took out the picture of John, with his kind eyes and stared at it lovingly until the cab reached your home.
‘Till next time.
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taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog @rhapso-kei
#john deacon x reader#deacy x reader#deaky x reader#joe!john x reader#joe!john deacon x reader#bohemian rhapsody#john deacon#deacy#deaky#joe!deaky#queen#queen imagine#this chapter was sooo fun to write uwu honestly and it’s fluffy to the max#the next one might be abit more angsty i haven’t decided yet#careful - jd
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Q&A post with the Mods!!!!
This is going to be a long one oh boy
How strict is the delineation of creative control vis-a-vis characters/plays between the mods? (@pedanticlecturer)
We generally have the plays split up along lines of “what we know”— we have a list at the very beginning of the blog. Sometimes we’ll draw the others’ characters (mostly me drawing some of Star’s…) but even then the final say on characterization is up to the “main” mod for that play — mod aster
what aster said -- mod star
What is your favorite play? What is your favorite character in terms of how they were written in the source material? (@pedanticlecturer)
I think my favorite play overall is Macbeth, just because I like the vibes (and the fact that I too could kill Macbeth), the fact that you don’t say it’s name in theatres, and the fact that it’s a play I did a full read through and analysis of in class. Favorite character? Puck from Midsummer. — mod aster
uhhhh,, hmm. ive always had a soft spot for midsummer since i saw it with aster esp bc of how fun the costumes were. of the comedies it has the largest potential to be the most visually pleasing bc of the concept of fairies,,,and im gay and dramatic so i love that. id die if i got to costume design for midsummer,,,or be in it,,,yeah. fav character. hmm. probably mercutio?? i recently saw a version of romeo and juliet where mercutio was played by a woman and oh my god it was amazing!!! not to mention mercutio’s portrayal in baz luhrmann's INCREDIBLE version of r n j!!! (I based my mercutio design on him) he just spends the entire time making dick jokes. love that. -- mod star
How do you answer asks so fast? I mean it's great but I'm impressed 😂 (Anon)
Personally, it’s a mix of: notifications on, quick drawing speed, and using the blog to avoid my class work — mod aster
aster is fast and (as you can see from all of my answers) im lazey -- mod star
Are there any elements/characters of the plays you're covering that you would have liked to work into this blog's plot, but couldn't due to the constraints of the setting or the synthetic nature of the blog? (@pedanticlecturer)
I wanted to make everyone gay but unfortunately due to plot constraints we have to have some hets but that wont stop me from making it lgbt as possible. -- mod star
I did want to make The Tempest more of a central play, but it just didn’t translate well. Similarly, other supernatural elements like the witches in Macbeth. This isn’t so much a constraint mentioned, but my own time/energy means that I want to show the Macbeth backstory, in a specific format, but I can’t right now— mod aster
Is there a hierarchy of import when it comes to each play's individualized impact on shakespeare high's general arc? If so, what plays are crucial to the foundation of the story? Which ones did you do mostly for shits and giggles? (@pedanticlecturer)
This is phrased like an ACT question and i might not answer it right so sorry in advance but: mod aster and i only selected a few plays for each of us to do given we dont know all of shakespeare’s works, but we tend to put more emphasis on the the more well known. But it also comes down to 1. How much we have plotted out for each play and 2. What the followers ask about most. Our two most popular are hamlet and macbeth bc people are familiar w those but around march caesar always becomes relevant again. I didnt even have designs for some of the characters until someone asked about them. -- mod star
I would say the same as star— it generally comes down to what people ask about. I will say that the overall plot is sort of separated into “has happened” and “is happening”. Like, the human potion of Midsummer, Julius Caesar, and Macbeth are all in the “aftermath” portion, while Twelfth Night, Hamlet, and Romeo and Juliet, among others, are happening. We’re trying to incorporate as much as we can, and I don’t think any of them were really put in without some thought.— mod aster
What personal significance does shakespeare hold in ur guys' lives? (@pedanticlecturer)
I go to a theater school rn and so ive dealt w shakespeare (although not all of them) it also helps that i was in loves labours lost last year as moth and that i read hamlet and r n j. Theres also a theater in my state that always does One Big Shakespeare per season and they always do them super well!!! My love for shakespeare probably started w seeing midsummer at that theater w mod aster!!! So. Theater kid rights!! -- mod star
To be honest, I got back into Shakespeare Because of the blog. I’ve been friends with some people that got really Pretentious about Shakespeare, and it kinda put me off of it. I did have a book of abridged plays (the plays’ plots written out in prose, basically) that I read as a kid, which is what got me into not only the plots of a lot of the plays, but also the idea of having them illustrated. And, same as star, the theater in state does the One Big Shakespeare— and they tend to do some really cool things with the costumes, setting them in diff time periods. I haven’t been able to see any lately since I’ve moved, but they still slap. — mod aster
🥰😘💙🥰🥰💜💟🥰I 😍💗💚😍😍LOVE🖤🖤 YALL ♥️♥️🧡💛💚💝❣️💕💘💖💗💓💞💝❤️💛💜 okay now i have a question i swear— how long have the two of you been doing art??? and what were your first shakespeare plays??? (@hellaghosts)
Uhh i started drawing when i was like idk 12 and i have the giant boxes of sketchbooks to prove it!!! I moved to digital art at abt 14-15 but mostly stayed traditional until this yr when i got a Neat New Tablet so some of my sketchbooks are sitting abandoned rip. My first shakespeare was either romeo and juliet or midsummer nights dream and i love both of them v much!!! I have a very old piece of art that i did for r n j for my freshman class assignment on it and it hasnt aged well alsdjfjafd circa 2016 i think??? -- mod star
Oh man. I started drawing when I was about 10, but it was Bad. I don’t think I got much into drawing again until I was about 14? Sometime around the end of middle school/beginning of high school. I would say I started getting into drawing as more than doodling/coloring edits sometime around 2015-16? I would draw on my iPad with my finger, then I got a tablet for my computer, and now I pretty much stick to my iPad with an Apple Pencil. My first Shakespeare play was….. uh…… probably Midsummer???? I have No idea. We would go to plays when I was little, so I honestly don’t remember if I saw others before. It may have been Romeo and Juliet— I had that book where it was the original and the “modernized” with the little dog that explained things— which, if you know it makes sense, but if you don’t is probably a bonkers answer. — mod aster
Do you think this blog has like? An overarching thesis (be it b/c intentionally or simply b/c ur own take on the world has bled thru to the point where u believe it’s central to the piece at this point)? (@pedanticlecturer)
Not gonna lie, I had to read that like three times AND dm you to figure out what you were asking from us and all I have is “be gay, respect women, write your own happy endings”. — mod aster
This blog started with an ides of march shitpost and you think we have enough brain energy to write a whole thesis? I projected feelings of found family onto my half of the blog but idk if that counts. Be gay do crime 420 69 -- mod star
What’s the nature/rough dynamic of ur relationship? How do y’all know each other? (@pedanticlecturer)
Met mod aster when i was like 4 and even tho we didnt live close we became like, best friends although the Best part didnt start until we were like 13-ish and eventually we talked like non stop (about anime and homestuck. Yknow. 13 year old kid things) and we didnt see each other a lot bc of Distance and now its even worse bc aster is in colleg.,e but we consider each other siblings regardless of family bc we’re adopted into our own respective families so that bled over into our friendship and it would feel weird calling him anything other than my brother now. We’ve seen each other at our best and worst and if you really want a good insight on what we’re like as siblings watch griffin and justin mcelroy’s overview video of catlateral damage wherein i am griffin and he is the long suffering justin. -- mod star
Star is basically my long distance sibling and functionally the only cousin I recognize bc like their parents are basically an aunt and uncle and like our dads look enough alike that we’ve both accidentally gotten the wrong dad for a hug or similar so like. Anyways yeah Star is the Griffin to my Justin, complete with our absent middle brother who we love dearly— mod aster
Dubiously relevant q but what kind of music do y’all listen to when u do art (if that is indeed a habit either of u partake in) (@pedanticlecturer)
It can depend on the piece? I was working on some (unrelated) oc prints that were song-focused, and for those I just listened to said song on loop. Sometimes I have playlists. Sometimes I’ll just be in a Mood and throw a song on loop. But a lot of time for the blog, I’ll listen to The Adventure Zone for the billionth time, because I have Too Much Attention. I’ve also, on request from Star, linked the most recent “loop song”.— mod aster
I tend to obsess over the same like 3 songs every few weeks so those get listened to on repeat but it also depends on the tone of what im drawing or who im drawing i might genre switch bc of that. If im drawing ophelia i stick to lana del rey and if im drawing hamlet its the neighborhood, horatio is sufjan stevens etc. i have categorized,. Most of the characters i draw into different songs/genres/energies of music but not like i ever follow that. Sometimes i just pull up a really long nonsense video and forget to draw. Essentially: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ -- mod star
How’d y’all come up with ur pseudonyms? (@pedanticlecturer)
I love space so much and my main blog is starryeydsailor space gay rights!! Im also tiny and full of energy and bright so basically i;m star -- mod star
Uhhhh i was like “hey i want to do uhhhhhh flower?” And then I google searched flower names until I found one I liked —- mod aster
How did you end up deciding the rough timeline of events in canon? (@pedanticlecturer)
It’s mostly determined by like. How we choose per story? If that makes sense. Like, we just take story by story, and decide “is it happening, has it happened, and when?” And then we fit them together in relation to each other just by dint of. All existing at once. Like, I knew I wanted Macbeth to be in aftermath, because like, even though there’s no murder, the way I’ve translated it to the AU is still kinda heavy, and it’s something that I don’t know that I could do properly if it were happening right now. Also, it’s more interesting IMO to have them at different times. Tl;dr we wing it per story and slot them together— mod aster (mod star agrees I just can word better, in theory)
If you could tell the story of shakespeare high in a different format than an ask blog, would you? Obviously y'all are making very good use of the format, but would you want to write this as a animated series or like? a comic book? or is the form inseparable from the story? (@pedanticlecturer)
I kinda wanted to do a webcomic or maybe to plot develop through like, animatics but the element of surprise comes from the asks we get and really makes us think so the blog is a good start. We didnt think we’d get this far -- mod star
Pretty much what Star said— there are certain elements where it’d be neat to do as a comic or as an animatic. Like, the fantasy dream is like, an anthology webcomic of each story, where you can like, see other characters in the background and stuff. But to be honest, we develop a lot by what we’re asked— there was a post about developing worldbuilding by being asked questions and then pretending you’ve thought about the answer, and it’s not far off. Personally, it’s hard to just lay out a story, because I have a whole WORLD and what’s relevant? What are people interested in? It’s by getting questions that I can then focus in on an area to develop. And yeah, we Super didn’t think we’d get this far lmao — mod aster
Any headcanons about your characters that you don't think will ever come up on the blog through asks or plot posts? (@pedanticlecturer)
I could make a whole separate post for this!!!!! Mostly its voice headcanons (and by mostly i mean like 1 or 2) or relationship hcs!!!! -- mod star
Honestly same. I don’t think I have voice headcanons for mine, though I bet I could find some. I’ve got a bunch of miscellaneous headcanons that just kinda float around, but like they’re scattered, too numerous for this post, and also not always things I’m sure are canon yet.— mod aster
#mod post#mod aster#mod star#q and a#birthday#we cant seem to read more AND tag so like brb gonna go kill god
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9! Snarry of course ~
Prompt: 9. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m really turned on by that”
Word count: 1,704
Warnings: language
Tags: fluff, established relationship, Professor!Harry, Post-Hogwarts, implied smut
Author’s note: Sorry for the delay. My laptop’s internet is finally fixed! Here’s hoping it stays that way! I hope you like it!!!
Fic:
August was fast approaching and soon enough the peace of a student-free castle would be gone. Not that it was so bad. Severus’s quarters were pretty quiet. Harry’s mouth twitched in thought. He supposed he ought to start referring to them as their quarters.
This was year two of their relationship and he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. He was sure Severus was waiting for it to crash and burn. It was like every morning they woke up, Harry would find Severus’s eyes on him like he was surprised to find him laying next to him. He assured him that he wasn’t going anywhere with a kiss and a mumbled “good morning.”
The students couldn’t quite believe it either, mind. They’d kept their relationship a secret for the first year but it was hard when they were still in the throws of a new relationship. Harry blamed the remains of his raging teenage hormones. He wasn’t sure what Severus’s excuse was. It wasn’t all that surprising that a second year Gryffindor walked into Severus’s office after hours, thinking he’d bravely try asking a quick question about their essay due the next day, and instead found his Potions professor with his tongue down his Defence professor’s throat, while said Defence professor straddled the Potions Master on the very chair the man usually sat in while throwing detentions about. Or if you were like second-year Harry, threatening expulsion.
By the second year, Harry hoped it was normalized enough to at least keep the jokes to a minimum. If Harry had to confiscate one more doodle of himself and Severus in compromising, and at times slightly disconcertingly flexible, positions again, he’d hex the bloody student out the room. It also annoyed him that in order to keep the students from running away with their hormone-driven imaginations, he and Severus had to keep public displays of affection to a minimum. Severus didn’t seem to have any issue with it. He once told Harry that he could deal with going all day without laying a finger on him because he knew that night when they were hidden away in their rooms and away from irritating students he could bugger Harry’s brains out until daybreak if he wanted to.
Charming.
Harry found it much more difficult. He liked being able to touch Severus whenever he wanted. A casual brush of his hand across his back. A soft kiss pressed onto his temple or cheek as he passed by. Affection was important to him and he wished he could simply hold the man’s hand if he damn well wanted to without causing such a scene.
It was why Harry tried to cherish these last couple of weeks before the students arrived. The other professors were busy preparing for the year as well, so it was sort of like having the castle to themselves at times. He liked being able to help Severus prepare his classroom and Severus help him in return. And, if they happened to take a quick break to test how sturdy Harry’s new office desk was or if the smallest supply closet in the back of Severus’s classroom could fit two people in it, well. What was the harm in that?
Harry looked up from where he was leaning against the doorframe of Severus’s personal supply closet. Poppy had requested some potions to be ready for the start of term as she had the feeling there would be an outbreak this year. Of what she wasn’t sure. Severus had recruited Harry into helping prepare the long list of potions that covered the most common back-to-school outbreaks.
“I still can’t believe you’re letting me help you with your potions,” Harry joked, smiling up at Severus.
Severus, standing on the first rung of the ladder, scanned the shelf for the ingredient he was searching for. “I said you could bottle. I said nothing about touching anything,” he drawled. He found the little phial that he wanted and plucked it off the shelf. He handed it blindly to Harry.
“Don’t you trust your own teaching?” Harry grinned cheekily.
“Of course.”
Severus climbed another rung and frowned. He climbed another one and reached over to pick up a jar. Harry walked forward and took it from his hand, adding it to the little pile of ingredients at his feet.
“So why can’t I help?”
“My teaching isn’t the problem. Your thick skull on the other hand…”
“Oi! I got an E on my NEWT!” Harry defended himself.
“You say that like it’s something to be proud of,” Severus mumbled as he continued his search. He turned around, looking at the shelves opposite the ladder.
The storeroom was huge and there was not a single space that was unoccupied by shelves and ingredients. Harry was always amazed that Severus knew (at least roughly) where everything was. He watched as the man climbed down a run and narrowed his eyes at the shelf like it was hiding something.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked.
“I can’t find…” Severus trailed off and then started climbing the ladder.
Harry stepped forward and watched him. The ceiling was high up and it always made him a little nervous when Severus climbed too far up. Severus, on the other hand, had no worries. He climbed and climbed before letting out an irritated huff. Apparently, he’d gone too far. He quickly climbed back down a bit, making Harry hold his breath, terrified he’d miss a step and fall.
“Ah,” Severus said, finding what he wanted.
He reached over, trying to get whatever he was after. It was too far. Harry told him he shouldn’t have altered the shelves to make them longer. Severus and his ingredients, honestly. It was borderline hoarding at this point. God forbid Harry say anything, though. He was very attached to his jars.
Severus tried stretching his arm out further to reach the ingredient, but it was simply too far away. Harry wondered why he didn’t just use a spell. Not that he’d ask Severus that because he’d probably get a lecture of some type. Either that or the man simply wouldn’t want to admit he couldn’t reach it. Stubborn to a fault, he was.
Harry watched in amusement as Severus climbed up a rung and bent down, sticking his torso between the rungs. He really wished he had a camera right now. Severus stuck his arm out, a deep frown on his face as he stretched and twisted to try and reach the thing. The buttons on his jacket caught on the shelf and almost knocked some phials. Grunting in annoyance he detangled himself and stood up straight.
He quickly undid the buttons and shrugged out of his jacket. Before Harry could say anything, Severus unceremoniously dropped the jacket onto Harry’s head. Harry pulled it off and folded it over his arm, sending a glare up to Severus.
The man was back at trying to fit himself between the rungs and reach the ingredient again, but Harry could see the edges of a smirk on his face. And he called Harry childish.
Harry eyed the man from below and a smirk of his own came to his lips. Severus was standing in just his trousers, shirt, and waistcoat. It was probably the most undressed he ever was when not in his quarters. Due to the angle, he was standing and how he was still trying to balance on the ladder, his knees were bent and his arse was stuck out. Not the most elegant position.
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m really turned on by that,” Harry said, his eyes on said arse.
Severus glanced down at Harry. Upon seeing his smirk, his eyes narrowed before he realised what he was referring to. He rolled his eyes and went back to his task. Harry watched, biting his lip as his libido kindly reminded him that there wasn’t another person in this area of the castle for ages.
“Got it,” Severus said in victory.
He climbed back down and handed Harry the ingredient. It was a tiny little phial with a little piece of what looked to be wood. Harry didn’t ask. A house elf appeared to take the ingredients to Severus’s private lab. Harry nodded in thanks and handed the little phial over as well. Suddenly, Severus pulled at his jacket and Harry looked up at him.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Severus said, arching an eyebrow.
Harry grinned. “I think I’ll keep it.”
Severus gave him an unamused look.
“Don’t we have potions to brew?” Harry asked innocently, enjoying Severus without his jacket on too much to give it back.
“I have potions to brew,” Severus replied and tried to grab for his jacket again. Harry pulled it away before he could. Severus huffed. “Fine. You brat.”
He turned to walk out the door and as Harry passed he slapped his arse. Severus came to an abrupt stop and turned to glare at a grinning Harry.
“What?” Harry asked innocently while unable to hide his cheeky grin.
He suddenly found himself pressed against the door of the supply closet. Severus’s lips on his, kissing him hard. When Severus pulled back, giving Harry a smug smirk, Harry was breathless. Immediately, Harry’s hands lowered to grab at Severus’s arse and pull him closer against him.
Arching both brows at him, Severus slowly took hold of a grinning and hooded-eyed Harry’s hands. He pried them off his bottom and stared into Harry’s eyes for a second with a blank expression.
“Don’t we have potions to brew?” he echoed Harry’s earlier statement.
Harry pouted.
Severus stepped away and spun on the spot, marching off in the direction of his lab. Sighing, Harry watched his lover as he walked away. He really did have a nice arse.
“I assure you it’ll still be there for you to grab after we get these potions done,” Severus said as he didn’t slow down his pace. Harry sighed again. He didn’t want to wait that long. “Though I suppose the several of the potions will need to sit before we complete them…” Severus mused, trailing off suggestively.
Harry perked up, as did other parts of him.
“Coming!” he called after him.
#fanfic#prompt 9#snarry#short one shot#mini fic#snarry imagine#prosnape#snapedom#sevharry#severus snape x harry potter
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Day 5: Jimin—Drawings
Week #1- Soulmate!AU
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: another late post again sorry lol i lowkey struggled to write a good story so i’m not as happy with it but i did my best and this will have to do
Schedule
Jin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook
I was sixteen when the first drawing appeared on the back of my left hand. It was a simple smiley face but I was ecstatic to finally have the first sign of my soulmate appear. I remember showing off the drawing to my parents—who were just as happy as I was—before drawing a small heart next to the face. It didn’t take long for the next drawing to appear, this time on my forearm.
hey soulmate :)
Over the next few years, multiple drawings would randomly appear. Sometimes they were small and simple while others would cover my arms. My favorites, though, were phrases that would appear on some rare occasion. They held beautiful and poetic meanings but were hastily scribbled on, as though my soulmate was a writer and didn’t want his ideas to fade away. Every time this happened, I always pictured them somewhere on a bus or a bustling cafe, inspired by some random passerby or event occurring around them.
My favorite one was written on my wrist not too long ago. It said, “Our happiness was meant to be”. I wasn’t sure if it was a message for me or if it was just a random thought but it still warmed my heart when I first read it.
Despite years of the occasional doodle or word on the arm or hand, we never learned each other’s names. Perhaps it was just to keep an air of mystery. Or maybe my soulmate wasn’t ready to meet me yet. Either way, I hadn’t pushed anything and just enjoyed the drawings we made for each other from time to time.
I was sitting in class, bored out of my mind. My professor was lecturing about the history of philosophy and I was doodling absentmindedly in my notebook where actual notes should be. As I was in the middle of sketching a flower, I realized it had been a while since I last communicated with my soulmate. I decided to draw the flower on my wrist for them.
Moments later, I saw them add on a sun just above the flower. I giggled as I drew a small cloud next to the sun. I hoped that wherever my soulmate was, they were enjoying our little art project. Then I saw something slowly being written on my arm.
bored?
I smiled a little before writing back.
philosophy isn’t the most exciting thing
“(y/n)! Are you even listening?”
I looked up to see my professor all my classmates staring at me. While I was busy with drawing on my arm, I hadn’t noticed my professor calling my name multiple times. Blushing, I managed to stutter out a “Yes”.
“Then would you please tell me what Aristotle’s first philosophy is known as?”
I swallowed before searching for any clues to his question. The PowerPoint being shown up front didn’t give me the answer I needed and my notebook was out of the question. I looked down in shame.
“N-No, sir.”
“Then I suggest you pay attention in my class,” he responded before returning to his lecture.
Sighing, I looked back down at my arm and noticed that my soulmate responded to my message.
same. i hate my professor. he just called out this person in my class for nothing.
I blinked at the message, looking at it again to make sure I read it correctly. Not only was my soulmate in a philosophy class but someone got in trouble too. Maybe that person was me. Surely, this couldn’t be a coincidence but I didn’t want to write another message in case I got scolded again. I decided to wait until after the bell rang to rush home and question them.
As soon as I arrived home, I washed my arm off so that I could have more room to write. I took out a blue pen from my school bag and thought about what to say.
what’s your professor’s name? I wrote on my arm.
I wasn’t sure if my soulmate was going to answer right away but I waited anyway. Luckily, I saw them write not too long after.
professor choi. why?
I gasped. The fact that we both took philosophy and our professors had the same name practically confirmed that we were in the same class. All these years, I had wondered who my soulmate was while they were probably sitting just a few seats away the whole time.
funny... my teacher has the same name and someone got called out in my class too.
I nearly laughed at his response which was just three bold exclamation points. Noticing that I was running out of room, I quickly ran my arm under running water and washed off the previous messages.
so we’re in the same class? My soulmate wrote immediately after I dried my arm.
i think so.
I paused, thinking of something to say. At this point, the hand holding the pen was shaking and I’m sure my heart rate was a million beats per minute. I thought of all the faces in my philosophy class but I couldn’t pin my soulmate as any of them.
let’s meet tomorrow then. i’ll be waiting outside the classroom after class ends :)
Just a moment later, as if hesitating, my soulmate wrote something else that appeared on the back of my hand:
our happiness was meant to be <3
I smiled fondly at the words. My favorite quote made an appearance again and I couldn’t help but feel giddy over just a few words. I wondered if my soulmate was just as happy, nervous, and excited as I was that we were meeting tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
The fact that I was finally meeting my soulmate seemed unbelievable to me. I didn’t question why we never even said our names but now we were going to meet face-to-face.
The next morning, I got up to get ready for school. I had washed off all of the messages and drawings from the day before except for the one on the back of my hand. I figured it would be used as proof when I met my soulmate. Dressed in something a little nicer than usual, I made my way to school with nerves and excitement kicking in.
Throughout the whole day, I did nothing but think about my soulmate. Though, it was probably bad that I wasn’t focused in any of my classes or seemed out of it to my friends. I was just extremely anxious. Of course, I was happy to meet them but nervous in case I wasn’t what they were expecting. I mean, we’re soulmates for a reason but I didn’t want create a bad first impression.
Finally, I made to my last class of the day: philosophy. Sitting at my desk, I looked around at my classmates, trying to see who would most likely be my destined partner in life. As soon as class began, I was antsy and fidgeting in my seat, counting down the seconds when the bell would ring.
“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson,” my professor said and I swore I had never heard such wonderful words. “Class dismissed.”
I quickly gathered my things and shoved them into my backpack before heading out of the room. Since the school day just ended, the hallway was packed with students trying to head home. I would need to wait a little bit for the crowd to die down before finding my soulmate. Leaning against the lockers, I looked down at the message written on the back of my hand.
our happiness was meant to be <3
Smiling, I traced a finger over the heart.
“(y/n)?” I heard someone say.
Looking up, I saw Jimin standing in front of me, nervously playing with his long sleeves. He was one of the most well-known boys in school. Everyone wanted to be his friend not because of the popularity but because he was just a genuinely kind and outgoing person. Oh, and he was incredibly good-looking. It would be hard not too fall for his cute features. I was surprised to see him approach me.
“Jimin?”
My heart was pounding so loud that I’m pretty sure he could hear it. Indeed, the boy standing before me was in my philosophy class. If Park Jimin was my soulmate, then I must have saved the world or something in a past life. There was absolutely no way that we were destined for each other.
“Hi...” he began, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry if I’m bugging you but I just want to ask you a quick question? If that’s okay?”
My heart was ready to explode.
“S-Sure,” I stuttered, mentally slapping myself. I’m sure I looked like a complete fool right now.
“Can I see your arm?”
With my heart skipping a beat, I nodded. Slowly, I raised my arm so that the message on my hand was visible to Jimin. I bit my lip nervously as he took hold of my hand. His touch was soft and gentle and he ran his thumb over the message. Jimin’s eyes widened once he finished reading it and looked up at me.
Suddenly, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the same message in the same place. Holding his arm next to mine, we compared the message together and saw that every stroke was exactly the same.
“Does that mean we’re...” I trailed off.
“Soulmates?” Jimin finished in a quiet voice. “Let’s just check to be sure.”
He pulled out a pen and prepared to draw something. On the palm of his hand, he slowly started to sketch a star. While he was doing this, I kept an eye on my own palm to make sure his drawing appeared.
Sure enough, it did.
At that moment, it felt like time had stopped. Jimin’s eyes met mine before a smile took over his face and he grabbed me to pull me into a hug.
“I can’t believe we’ve been soulmates this entire time!” he exclaimed.
I hugged him back tightly, relieved to finally have found my soulmate and happy to know that it was Jimin.
“I wish we found out sooner,” I laughed.
Jimin pulled back but his hands were resting on my shoulders. He took in every detail of my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. I could’ve sworn he nearly had tears of happiness in his eyes.
“The only reason why I didn’t say anything about myself was because I thought you weren’t ready to meet me yet,” he explained.
“I thought the exact same thing!”
We both laughed at our similar way of thinking. If either of us had just built up the confidence to say something, this meeting would have happened years ago. As our laughter died down, he stared into my eyes again with amazement, softly caressing my cheek with his finger.
“Our happiness was meant to be,” he whispered with a gentle smile on his face.
“Out of everything you’ve drawn or written, that one is my favorite,” I informed him. “But where did it come from?”
“I don’t know if you know but I write songs every now and then,” he replied. “But I’ve never actually finished one. That message was just a lyric from an unfinished song. But if you like it so much, I think I’ll go back and work on it. After all, I have new inspiration now.”
I blushed as he winked at me. The thought of having a song written about me made me swoon. Especially one written by my soulmate.
“So soulmate, want to head out and grab a bite to eat? We should get to know each other better now that we know we’re destined for each other,” Jimin suggested.
“Sounds good to me!” I agreed.
He smiled at me response before taking my hand and kissing the back of it, right where the message was. Then he grinned before leading me outside.
#bangtan#bts imagine#bangtan imagine#jimin imagine#soulmate au#bts soulmate au#park jimin#jimin soulmate au#writing#month of writing
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Fifty Shades Ghostlier
The sequel to Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm that literally no one asked for!
Yet again, the people of discord are all heathens and bad influences, namely @ironsilversaltandtea and @skull-in-a-jar this time.
Warning: Any accuracies, historically, scientifically, or to canon, are completely accidental. This is pure crack. No actual hanky-panky - as I am but a totally innocent asexual - but a whole lot of inappropriate jokes. You have been warned.
Fic info: Post teg. Rating: Mature, clearly. Pairings: Implied locklyle. Word count: 2284
Summary: Contrary to what canon might suggest, the main trio of Lockwood & Co are all teenagers and, like many teenagers, they can sometimes be rather immature. Especially when given a pack of condoms.
Fifty Shades Ghostlier
On that midsummer evening, Lockwood & Co sat in the cool kitchen of 35 Portland Row. Holly bustled around making homemade lemonade, while Lockwood, George and I sat around the table, acting, for once, like normal teenagers as we were currently in a competition over who could doodle the most phallic images on the thinking cloth. I was winning, though I was helped by my talent at drawing as well as the skull’s ghost at my shoulder making increasingly obscene suggestions.
Holly set a jug of lemonade on the table and looked over Lockwood’s shoulder at one especially graphic doodle featuring Rupert Graves and his rapier.
“Honestly! I’m going to have to wash this again now,” she scolded, her eyes sweeping the cloth and her lip curling. She frowned at the image I was drawing of Marissa and Ezekiel, as per Skully’s suggestion. “I did always wonder how she managed to conceive. I mean, there was no man ever mentioned, right?”
“Exactly!” said Skully, though she couldn’t hear him.
“Do ghosts have sperm?” George wondered allowed as I poured myself a glass of lemonade.
“What do you think ectoplasm is?” said Skully, right when I’d taken a sip. I started choking.
“Lucy?” said Lockwood, concerned, standing from his seat to round the table and pat me on the back as I continued spluttering. “What did he say?”
“Ectoplasm-” I continued choking. “-ghost-” More coughing. “-jizz,” I finished as Lockwood gave me one last hard pat on the back.
George snorted. “Wait… so the Red Room?”
I went back to choking.
“Didn’t those monks get executed for doing ��unholy things’?” Lockwood asked, snickering.
George nodded. “I’m calling it now: Monk orgies.”
“Good thing you didn’t take a blacklight in there,” said Skully.
“You are all disgusting,” said Holly, though I could see she was trying hard not to laugh.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. I stood to go and answer, wiping my watering eyes as I went.
“Hey, Quill,” I said, upon seeing the man in question at the door.
“Listen,” he said, looking rather sheepish, “I need a favour.”
“What?” Holly asked, coming into the hall with George and Lockwood following behind. Quill didn’t seem pleased at us all being there.
“Promise you won’t make fun of me,” he said.
“Oh, Quill,” said George. “I can’t promise anything.”
Quill glared at him but sighed. “Look, I’m going away for the weekend with Kat and Bobby. Catching up and stuff. And, uhh…” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Look, I forgot I had these on me, and it’ll take too long to go home and drop them off, but I don’t want Bobby to find them… he’s so small and innocent…”
“Get to the point, Quill,” said Lockwood.
Quill shot him a glare, then he huffed and pulled something out of his pocket; a little box by the looks of it. He practically thrust it into my hands and then turned to leave. “Just hold on to them for me, okay. I’ll be back for them in a few days.” And with that, he practically jogged away and down the street.
I stared after him, then looked down at the box in my hands.
Fittes Condoms: For the Perfect Fitte!
Side effects may include: nausea, vomiting, unplanned ghost pregnancy, and death.
Warning: May contain ghost nuts.
Beneath the title, a picture of Penelope Fittes smiled up at us.
“I didn’t know they made condoms,” said Lockwood, matter-of-factly.
“Oh dear,” said Holly. “Do you thing Quill read the small print?”
George removed his glasses to wipe on his shirt. “Well, now we know what Marissa used with Ezekiel.”
I whacked him with the condom box.
Later that night, once Holly had gone home to spend time with her totally platonic roommate, I stood in the kitchen fixing myself a cup of tea, because even in the midst of a heatwave, it’s never a bad time for a cuppa.
“You know,” said Skully, who was hovering nearby, “you should pinch a few.”
“What?”
“Condoms,” he clarified. “Ya know, just in case you and Locky get all heated like you did last night. You’re not exactly quiet, you know. Good thing George is a deep sleeper…”
I flushed scarlet and lobbed a used teabag at him, but it just passed straight through and hit the wall with a wet slap.
“What?” said Skully. “I just want you to be safe, if all…”
I went back to stirring my tea, trying my best to ignore him, though I almost shattered the cup clanking the spoon harshly against the sides to try and drown him out.
“You’re lucky,” he continued. “We didn’t have them in my day. Teenage pregnancies abound. Though, most people died at twenty so that was probably a good thing… But, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And I hear you can get them ri-”
“Fine!” I interrupted. “You like them so much? Here.” I stormed over to the table where the box sat and ripped it open, tearing right through Penelope’s face and scattering little foil squares everywhere.
“Oi, what are you doing?” he said, as I opened a condom and grabbed the skull.
I ignored him, though he started up a gale and smashed my mug of tea. It didn’t really phase me; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. So, with difficulty, as the condom seemed to be coated in lube, I tugged it over his stupid, mouldy skull.
“How’d you like that!” I said, dangling it in front of me, triumphant.
No reply.
“Skully?” I said, looking around, but his ghost was gone. I peered at the condom curiously and noticed the ectoplasm swirling within. “GEORGE!”
After a minute, George shuffled into the kitchen, toothbrush still stuffed in his mouth and froth spilling out. He grunted in what might have been a ‘what?’ and I shoved the slimy, skull-filled condom into his hand.
“Happy experimenting,” I told him.
“So, as it turns out, lubricant is far more effective on ghosts than iron or silver,” George informed Flo as he and I sat with her on a wall by the river eating sweets. I’d only joined because George owed me a bag of bonbons after he’d scoffed mine the other day while my back was turned. “In fact, lubricated condoms make very effective containers for Sources.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Flo, through a mouthful of liquorice. “Used ‘em to hold Sources for years.”
“What?” I said, almost swallowing a bonbon whole. “So you just carry around stuff in condoms all the time?”
Flo cackled. “Yeah. Really freaks out the relic-men.”
“We ought to experiment on more things like this,” said George, thoughtfully. “You know, there’s actually a high salt concentration in sem-”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” I told him.
“I dunno about that stuff,” said Flo, “but I did find something in the mud the other day.”
She went about digging through her sack before pulling out a strange chunk of iron. I stared at it, puzzled for a moment, before realising what shape it was.
“Is that an iron dildo?” said George, bursting into laughter.
“A proper old-timey one,” said Flo. “Reckon this made some Victorian lady - or man - very happy.”
George took it from her.
“George!” I cried. “You can’t just touch it with your bare hands!”
“Why not?” said George. “The river’s probably washed away anything too bad.”
“Still,” I said, disgusted. “You don’t know where that’s been.”
“Or who it’s been in,” Flo added.
“Please stop.”
“Well, this should do nicely for my experiments, in any case,” said George. “We should try using this stuff in the field. Any clients with Type 1s?”
“I think there might be,” I said.
And that was how Lockwood, George and I ended up in a clients house, facing off against a weak Type 1, with a circle of lube in place of an iron chain, condoms rolled onto our rapiers, and a bucket of saltwater to fill condoms with to lob at the ghost.
“You were right George, this is actually quite effective,” said Lockwood, prodding the ghost with his condom-tipped rapier as I squirted bottles of lube at it.
George knelt by the bucket, dunking a condom in to fill it up, but when he pulled it out again, water began spurting out.
“Huh,” I said. “Looks like they’re more effective on ghosts than they are as actual condoms.”
“We’re probably doing Quill a favour by wasting them all,” Lockwood agreed.
George attempted to throw the filled-condom at the ghost anyway, but it sloshed harmlessly in a puddle on the floor.
“So much for that idea,” said George. “Plan B.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I said as he attempted to tug a condom over his head.
“Hey, if you can get a skull in one, it can fit over my head,” said George.
Lockwood, who seemed to be having the time of his life, helped George tug the thing on, and, I had to agree, he did look hilarious with his face all smushed up inside the latex.
We stood back and let the researcher charge head-first at the ghost.
He made it about two steps before slipping on the circle of lube. As he fell, he grabbed my arm and tugged me down too, and I, in turn, grabbed Lockwood’s tie and dragged him with us. We landed with a thud, and skidded across the hardwood floor that had been drenched thoroughly in saltwater and lube, which, unsurprisingly, is a pretty good lubricant. We shrieked as we slid at breakneck speeds directly towards the ghost, until, at the last minute, I managed to tug the iron dildo from George’s coat pocket it and lob it at the ghost’s face.
We skidded right through the spot the ghost had just been, all the way to the other side of the room, and slammed into the wall before falling back in a tangled heap of slick bodies.
“Okay,” said Lockwood, “no more experimenting on cases. Anyone see where it went?”
“There!” I said, pointing at a floorboard that seemed slightly raised above the others. I shuffled, or more like slid, over to it and fumbled with it to pull it open. The ghost had reformed in the centre of the room now, and maybe it was the fact that we were all thoroughly drenched in ghost-repelling lube, but it didn’t come anywhere near us as I plucked the Source - an old ring - out from under the floorboards and handed it to George, who tucked it into an unused condom. The ghost vanished instantly.
“We should always use these things to contain Sources!” Lockwood said, cheerily. “They work so well!”
“I think I’ll stick to the regular stuff,” I said.
We got home a little past midnight, where Holly was waiting for us. She inhaled deeply as we entered, soaked head to toe in lube, her lips pursed as Skully cackled loudly behind her.
“I see you kids had fun!”
I ignored him and headed upstairs to take a much-needed shower.
The next morning, I came downstairs to the sound of Holly arguing loudly on the phone down in the basement.
“What’s happening?” I asked Lockwood as he poured us both some orange juice and put some crumpets in the toaster.
“I don’t think we’re getting paid,” he replied. “It seems our client wasn’t too happy about coming home to find lube and broken condoms all over his bedroom.”
“Can’t imagine why,” I said, sipping my orange juice.
Holly entered the kitchen, trying her best to retain her ladylike etiquette, though her face was flushed and her hair wild.
“I told you that was a bad idea!”
Lockwood shrugged. “We’ve got cases coming out of our ear nowadays. What’s one Type 1?”
“Unless he goes to the press about it!”
“Ah,” said Lockwood, “didn’t think of that.” Then he perked up. “We’ll go to the press first! ‘Condoms: Effective protection against more than just STDs!’ What do you think?”
Holly rubbed her temples like she was getting a migraine.
There was a knock on the door, and I heard George bustling through the hallway to answer it, but I stood to see who it was anyway.
“Have a nice weekend away, Quill?” George asked, jovially as Quill stood awkwardly in the doorway.
“Yes, yes,” he said, impatiently. “Now, come on. I’m going to need the box back.”
“Ah,” said Lockwood, “about that…”
Quill narrowed his eyes at him.
“We took the liberty of testing them,” said George. “They weren’t very effective. Kind of leaked.”
“Christ,” said Quill, eyes widening. “What did you do?”
“Calm down, we just filled them with saltwater,” I told him. “...And stuffed Sources in them… and rolled them onto our rapiers… and stuffed George’s head in one...”
“And we blew the last few up like balloons and chucked them around last night,” Lockwood added.
Quill pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose I should have expected the worst, leaving them with teenagers…”
“Better buy another brand next time you want to see your lady friend,” said Lockwood, grinning at him.
Quill turned a brilliant red. “There’s no… lady.”
“Ooh, a gentleman?” Holly gushed. “What’s he like?”
I put on my best innocent face. “Is he good in bed?”
“That’s it,” said Quill, turning around. “I’m done. Goodbye.”
“No, come back!” Lockwood called after him.
“Tell us about the guy you needed a twelve pack of condoms for!” George yelled, loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear as Quill all but sprinted away from us.
No matter. We’d see him again, soon enough. And then the merciless teasing would really begin.
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paper hearts.
pairing: jungkook x reader
prompt: living abroad is tough already. doing it with a relationship on the line is twice as difficult.
word count: 1,571
note: hello everyone! this is my first fic on this site, i hope you all like it! this is ofc inspired by the song paper hearts and slightly by weightlifting fairy kim bok joo
warnings!: mentions of sensitive topics like disease, please don’t read if you’re offended by these things.
Living in America was hard at first. He was a native Korean to begin with, and extremely shy to add. He wishes you were with him. He wanted to hold your hand, to hug you, to kiss you. He wishes just to be with you.
“No,” You said. “These are your dreams and I’m not going to stop you from achieving them. Besides, you’re only going to train for one year. You can handle one year without my nagging ass. But once you come back, you better win all the golden medals, or else I’ll kick your ass.”
“I love you.” He blurted out randomly.
You looked at him. “I know, Jungkook. I love you too. Don’t think I won’t miss you, because I will, with every fiber of my being. It’s just… I could never forgive myself if I was the reason you stayed home.” You replied, taking one of his hands and tracing the prominent veins.
“Jungkook, what are you doing? Get your shit together!” His coach yelled, bringing him out of his memories.
Jungkook shook his head, slapping both his cheeks with hands.
“Sorry coach, I’ll work harder!” He yelled back.
“You better! This kid…” His coach muttered.
‘Do it for ___.’ Jungkook thought to himself, attempting to motivate himself. Wit that in mind, he swam even harder, and before he knew it, practice was already over.
Jungkook made his way towards his small dorm, a towel still on his head. It was 6:00 on a Friday, meaning it was 8 AM in Seoul, and knowing you, he knew that you probably wouldn’t wake up by 10 AM.
‘That’s okay, I’ll just wait till 8 to try and call her.’ He said to himself.
It was approximately 6 months and a week(yes, he was counting) since the last time the two of you saw each other in person. As time passes, Jungkook’s longing for you increases, by every day, every hour, every minute, every second.
Jungkook looks down at his desk, realizing that he had been drawing hearts unconsciously. He smiles at this, finding that he’s picked up your habit of doodling. Pulling out his phone, he takes a picture of the hearts and sends it to you. He decides to start making paper hearts monthly.
5 months pass more quickly than Jungkook thinks and he can barely keep hi excitement in. Just a few more weeks, and he would finally get to see you, his beloved girlfriend again. He couldn’t wait to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you. He was so distracted with the thought of seeing you again, that he didn’t see who was holding his bicep. Looking down, he sees her.
Soo Jung.
Soo Jung was a girl who’d been pestering him for the past 2 months. After every practice, she would approach him, asking if he wanted to go drinking or to the club. The first time she asked, he declined politely, not wanting to offend her.
“I’m sorry,” He began. “I have a girlfriend.”
Soo Jung replied with an exaggerated pout, adding a small “OK.” and then leaving.
The next time she’d done it, Jungkook stood firm and declined with a simple “No.”
Soo Jung’s eyebrows furrowed. “Where is this so-called girlfriend? How come I never see her?” she said.
“She lives in Seoul. We have a long distance relationship.” Jungkook said calmly.
Soo Jung rolled her eyes and scoffed, walking away while swaying her hips, making Jungkook’s blood boil.
Refocusing on the girl tightly grasped around his bicep, he shakes his arm trying to free himself from her hold. Unfortunately, the girl had a vice grip on him, and clung onto him like glue.
“Hey Jungkook.” She cooed, looking up at him with a dreamy expression.
Jungkook wants to throw up.
“Soo Jung.” He replied coolly.
Soo Jung’s smile widens, grasping him tight to her body. “So, wanna go-”
“Soo Jung, for the last fucking time, I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I. Have. A. Girlfriend.” Jungkook explained, clapping to exaggerate his point.
She still doesn’t get it.
Soo Jung frowns, drawing circles into Jungkook’s arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun. All you ever do when you’re off is stay inside.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Yes. Staying inside is fun.”
Soo Jung laughs, letting out a high titter and hits his chest lightly. She regains her composure and looks up at him innocently, trailing her fingers over his pecs. “Just join me once… I’ll show you how to have real fun.”
Jungkook is really uncomfortable. Will he get in trouble if he punches her in self-defense? “My girlfriend in Seoul already knows how, so it’s fine, don’t waste your time.”
Soo Jung lets out a high-pitched whine. “Aw, let loose for once.”
Ouch. That was right in his ear. There’s a ringing in his ears. Is he deaf now?
Jungkook shakes his head. “I said no.”
Soo Jung pouts, pulling his arm with her as she attempts to do some weird aegyo. “Come on Kookie-”
Jungkook tenses up, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence. “Don’t call me that.”
“Kookie.” Soo Jung cooed, eyes sparkling with amusement as she inches closer to his lips.
“Stop.” Jungkook replied, forcefully ripping his arm away from Soo Jung and pushing her away.
Jungkook briskly made his way towards his dorm, running away from the direction of Soo Jung as if she was a killer.
Well, technically she was. She killed his vibe every time she talked.
Jungkook slams open the door to his room, throwing his things down in a child-like manner. He wrestles his phone from his bag, fumbling with the zippers and strings, making him regret choosing this complicated messenger bag over the simple drawstring bag.
Once his phone is in his hands, he automatically clicks on your number, desperately needing to hear your voice.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up.” Jungkook chanted desperately. He waits anxiously for your reply, wanting to talk to you about how he’s coming soon.
The only thing that greets him are the words “missed call.”
To his relief, Soo Jung had been leaving him alone for the past couple of weeks, but in return, he hadn’t bee hearing from you as of late. He scrolled through the texts he had with you, and as days passed, each reply became shorter and you were becoming more and more unavailable. He knew that college life was busy, but this was unusual.
The door opens, and Jungkook looked up at the sudden intruder.
“Hello Jungkook.” She whispered provocatively. Her fingers slide down to the buttons and tie that were holding her trench coat together. They come undone, and revealed the red corset exposing her porcelain skin.
Jungkook turns away from her and cringes. “How the fuck did you get in, Soo Jung?”
“You left it unlocked, dummy.” She replied cheerfully. “But that doesn’t matter right now.” She says, her heels clicking towards the bed. She lays down on the bed, and Jungkook stands up, not wanting to be anywhere near her.
Soo Jung tilts her head at him. “Come on, Jungkook, don’t you want me?”
Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “After countless times, I’ve told you no over and over again. Why in fuck’s name would you think I want you?”
“I mean, look at me. Who wouldn’t want me?” Soo Jung replied, gesturing to herself.
Jungkook snorts and rolls his eyes at her. “I don’t. The only person I want is my girlfriend.”
Soo Jung groans, adjusting her corset. “Oh my God, stop pretending you have a girlfriend. You’re just playing hard-to-get and I’m tired of it. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You even touched my breast the last time we saw each other!”
Jungkook is 101% sure that Soo Jung is delusional.
“Are you dumb? I was pushing you away! Why would you think I was trying to grope you?”
Soo Jung crosses her arms. “Hard-to-get. Now stop resisting, you’ve got me where you want me.”
Scratch that, Soo Jung is 200% batshit insane.
Jungkook grabs her coat off the floor and wraps her in the cloth. “You need to go.”
Soo Jung shrugs it off. “No.”
Jungkook puts her in the coat again and ties it around her. He strangely feels like a middle-aged mom trying to clothe her naked, devil of a child who won’t get dressed. “Come on.” He said, dragging her off the bed and taking her to the exit.
Soo Jung stumbles, trying to rip away from his grip. “Jungkook, long distance relationships don’t work! It’s not gonna last. I know you at least feel something for me.”
Jungkook laughs bitterly. “Yes, I feel hatred for you.”
Soo Jung weakly beats at his chest. “Let go of me! I’m gonna ruin your career here! You’ll never have a chance at making the American team.”
They arrive at the door, and Jungkook shoves her out, remembering to lock the door this time. “Go ahead. I wasn’t trying to anyways.”
And with that, Jungkook slams his door closed, locking his door and puts the chain in place.
He collapses on his bed, running his hands down his tired face.
Suddenly, your ringtone comes on and Jungkook has literally never been happier.
He opens his phone quickly to see the text.
‘We’re sorry for not telling you soon enough, but ___ has leukemia.’
note: thank you for taking the time to read my fic! it’s been in my drafts for quite a while, but since it’s jungkook’s birthday i decided to post it in honor of him turning 20 (is he 21 or 22 in korea? i still get confused about this sometimes asdfghjkl) i’m sorry if the fic’s details were confusing and/or inaccurate, but i hope you enjoyed reading nevertheless!
#bts#bangtan#bangtan boys#bangtan sonyeondan#jeon jungkook#jeon jeongguk#happy birthday jungkook#happy jungkook day#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#bts scenarios#bts imagines#kpop scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagines#jungkook drabbles#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabble#jungkook angst#bts fanfic#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#bts x reader
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ALRIGHT I have apparently a lot of things I’ve been tagged in (recently or otherwise) so we are gonna do one big post of those things under the cut here to save your dash (sorry if you’re mobile and the app isn’t doing a read more D:) - stating it now I’m not gonna tag anybody bc I took so long to get around to it oops
10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms things
-Ami Mizuno (Sailor Moon)
-Elizabeth Corday (ER)
-River Song (DW)
-Delilah (Firewatch)
-Velma Dinkley (Scooby Doo)
-Molly Grue (The Last Unicorn)
-Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare)
-Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)
-Dana Scully (The X-Files)
-Tuppence Beresford (Agatha Christie)
Writing Tag
1. How many works in progress do you currently have in progress?
“Just” three - Princess and the Goblin AU, a personal project, and an original work about the world’s grumpiest immortal old lady
2. Do you/would you write fanfiction?
Yes and yes :P
3. Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?
Paper books to own, but for schoolwork I’d much rather use ebooks as they’re a lot easier to search through when writing a paper and needing that one quote.
4. When did you start writing?
Age six! We still have the word document from 2003 where I wrote an epic tale about myself helping the Boxcar Children solve a mystery in which my mom was, for some reason, a police officer.
5. Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?
Knight!
6. Where is your favorite place to write?
At home, sitting on my bed. That’s where I work best in general; I don’t do well with the distractions of public places.
7. Favorite childhood book?
Oh gosh. I was a ridiculously avid reader all through childhood. I don’t know that I could pick a single one, but the Nancy Drew series had me from very early on.
8. Writing for fun or writing for publication?
For fun! But in an ideal world there would also be publication in the future lol.
9. Pen and paper or computer?
Computer! I used to do pencil and paper when I was in middle school/high school and filled up a few composition notebooks, but I get too easily sidetracked with pencil and paper and tend to end up doodling if I try to use it for writing nowadays.
10. Have you ever taken any writing classes?
I have! I did a fiction/poetry combo the summer of 2014 which was very nice, a poetry class fall of 2015, and am currently in another poetry class. One day I’ll get to have my fiction workshopped again! :P
11. What inspires you to write?
Lots of things - music, dreams, other people, daydreams...
Last sentence you wrote:
She’d thought maybe she was doing it wrong, and that was why, but she didn’t quite know how to ask.
Top 5-10 songs you listen to:
1. Fire Escape by Love, Robot
2. Cherry Tree by The National
3. I Wish I Was Your Cigarette by K.I.D.
4. Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko
5. Beneath the Brine by The Family Crest
that one tag thing it didn’t have a title sorry
Name: Mouse
Star sign: Cancer
Average hours of sleep: 5-8 depending on the day
Lucky number: 7 or 27 based on numbers I like, but the OCD demands repetitions of 12 or 20 so take that as you will
Last thing I googled: “panko crumbed turkey schnitzel” because I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT WAS AND I WANTED TO KNOW IF I COULD EAT IT
Favorite fictional character: Yes I Have Lots of Those
What are you wearing right now: Batman pj pants and a soft green plaid buttonup
When did you start this blog: May 2013 :’) please don’t go look at my first posts I was an embarrassing child
What do I mostly post: Sailor Moon, Alex Kingston, helpful art things, and lately a lot of middle-of-the-night squawking about Scooby Doo
Do I get a lot of asks: on the art blog! not here though lol
Why did I choose this URL: River Song + memento mori
another one that doesn’t have a title I think sorry again
O N E
-name: Audrey || nickname: Mouse || zodiac sign: Cancer
-height: 5′2″ || orientation: ace lesbian || ethnicity: white enough to make hiding in laser tag very difficult
-favorite fruit: apple || favorite season: winter
-favorite book: The Last Unicorn || favorite flower: carnation?
-favorite scent: vanilla || favorite animal: cat
-coffee, tea, or hot cocoa? no thank you
-cats or dogs? cats
-dream trip: I go to an abandoned, isolated castle in the middle of a wide-open field of green. no one is around. I am wearing a soft, billowy dress. I run through the halls of the castle to echoing sea shanties. in the tallest tower of the castle I sit and fill up an entire sketchbook and it doesn’t even matter if I mess up on a couple pages because I have brought sticky notes to try that cool thing where you just slap a sticky note over the mistake and keep going.
-aesthetic: old empty buildings, soft blankets, girls holding hands, scuffed up knuckles and fingertips, the pages in a sketchbook where marker has bled through in just a few spots to make it look splattered, the smell of old books, antique brass pocketwatches, cold grey skies
-favorite band/artist: Anberlin
-fictional character I’d date: River Song, Elizabeth Corday, Makoto Kino
-Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw
T W O
-countries I’ve lived in: US, UK I guess now? idk does it count
-favorite fandom: uhh... if we’re talking about the fandom itself then Scooby Doo, there’s so little drama and everyone is just super into these goofy kids solving mysteries, it’s great
-languages you speak: English, and I’m passable enough in Spanish that I could PROBABLY survive if I were dropped in a Spanish speaking country
-favorite film of 2016: I have No Concept of Time and also don’t watch that many movies. did Wonder Woman come out in 2016? that’s like the only movie I’ve been to see in theatres recently. idk I apologize
-last article you read: uhh something for class, so something about Gothic feminism
-last thing you bought online: a maroon sweatshirt with Scooby’s face on it. I am the coolest adult and 12yo me would be proud.
-how would your friends describe you: sweet but a huge dork, very little common sense, means well
-how would your enemies describe you: I am always trying my best to not make enemies so?? I don’t know?
questions Nikki asked specifically
1. You spend an entire year in another time and place for the next three years of your life. When/where do you choose and why? THESE KINDS OF QUESTIONS STRESS ME OUT because on the one hand, access to everywhere and everywhen!! BUT ON THE OTHER HAND IF I GO TOO FAR BACK INTO THE PAST I LOSE ACCESS TO THINGS LIKE MEDICINE WHICH I NEED AND POSSIBLY CONTAMINATE THE POPULATION WITH MODERN-DAY GERMS WHILE IF I GO TOO FAR INTO THE FUTURE I GET EXPOSED TO BACTERIA/VIRUSES I HAVE NO IMMUNITY AGAINST. it’s a lose/lose. so... picking close enough to not do too much damage, I’ll spend one year following Agatha Christie around sometime in the 60s, mentor my younger self in 2010, and go through all of 2014 again just so I can go see the Armory production of Macbeth.
2. Okay, be honest: do you put your laundry away immediately, or does it sit somewhere in a pile for entirely too long? IT SITS AT THE END OF MY BED FOR WEEKS YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS
3. Describe yourself as if you’re in a fic. (Scent, appearance, aura – everything & anything is game.) “She was small and mousy, in the sense that she was a bit skittish of everything and squeaked sometimes when she talked, always too quiet for the ‘real’ grownups. She stepped lightly, and tried to take up as little space as possible, and was almost a ghost for her efforts.”
4. What non-essential thing(s) do you blow the most money on? MARKERS AND BOOKS I am a simple woman with simple desires
5. Did you have extracurricular activities as a child? Any that you wish you’d done? I did ballet and cheer in elementary school for like two years, gymnastics for a bit; journalism in middle school (say hello to the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper y’all); drama in high school - I can’t say that I wish I’d done any more actually
6. You can time travel (or not) and have your portrait done by any artist. Who do you choose? I'm gonna go with El Greco simply because his “Penitent Magdalene” haunts me
7. You’re out in public. You see a cat. How do you react? point at it and say CAAAAAAAT and hope it doesn’t run away
8. What kind of weather do you thrive in, and what can you simply not do? A bit cloudy and 50-60 degrees F is ideal. I cannot abide heat. Anything above 80 degrees is repulsive.
9. Om nom nom, breakfast! What are your favorite breakfast foods? CEREAL AND WAFFLES
10. Do you like running up and/or rolling down hills? ...not particularly... I have a weird thing about heights, and inclines do not really help D:
#I went back TWO WHOLE YEARS in my likes so hopefully I got all of the ones I'd skipped over like a lame-o#anyway#long post#like SUPER DUPER LONG#seriously it's. sad.#Mouse talks!#about me#also#writing tag#I GUESS KIND OF#there's one sentence from the AU I am Never Sharing Anywhere Or Providing Context For#anyway GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE gaoishgweoihg sorry I'm so bad at doing these in a timely fashion#shoutout to Flo for tagging me in stuff like just today so I remembered I had those to do!!#I hope it's okay I did it on the main instead of the art blog since that's the one you tagged D:
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