#i should learn more nose shapes so i can add even more variety | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shewreckz · 2 months

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Hey your art is pretty whimsical and radical my gender non specific broseph, per chance would thou be able to enlighten us on how you draw such bodacious fine art? Like how you draw bodies and fave and what have thee. (Fr tho your art really cool and I'd like to see how you make it)

okay i have whipped up a quick little visual of my thought process while drawing!! it might not be the best cause im not the greatest at teaching but if anyones curious ^_^

first lets start with how i draw bodies

a lot of people like to do the "skeleton" method which is where you draw lines and circles to plan out where the limbs should be. honestly i really dislike doing that because i like to always have volume and shape in mind when drawing bodies, but if it works for you thats great.

instead i separate the body into different pieces, kinda like an articulated doll. i think it helps visualize all the moving parts in a 3d space and makes posing and perspective a lot easier. i can also always add the detailed anatomy on top of this basic model like you see on the left. its always important to work from simple -> complex. drawing a pose while being too worried on anatomy will really hinder your drawing process.

to improve doing this it really just takes practice and observation. i could be here all day talking about proportions, and how many heads high a person is, and each specific muscle group, but i reccomend you go and watch videos and study professional artists on your own. as someone who has been drawing and studying these things for so long, i barely think about how many heads high a person is when im drawing a body. its kind of like learning how to play and instrument or driving a car. it becomes second nature eventually, but you have to apply those skills and work through that period of time where youre still trying to program it into your brain.

after you get a hang of the basics you can take this basic model and draw all types of body shapes with it. i say its always important to play around with making your body types diverse. its not only fun to do but helps make all the characters you draw unique and recognizable. (dont be like vivziepop).

dynamic posing can be the hardest thing to master for a lot of people. the best way to learn how to pose is to not think about it too much and just doing it. for example in my figure drawing class we had to sketch out gesture drawings from a picture in 15 seconds. excercises like that help a ton in making you feel more comfortable when drawing from a reference. you should definitely reference a LOT when it comes to poses, it helps build this visual database so that eventually you can get to the point where you can just draw accurate and dynamic poses from memory. after getting to this point eventually you kind of start thinking of your canvas as this tangible 3d space and considering your characters in 3d space helps make the poses feel a lot more realistic and interesting.

ok now a quick little tour into how i draw different faces yaaaayy!!!1!1!1

main thing with my art is that i LOVEEE drawing dynamic face shapes i think its so important to avoid drawing the same slim faces over and over. shape language plays a big role into this. like for example the face on the middle is more square, the one on the left is more oval and the one on the right is more circle. shape language helps communicate so much about your character without even saying a word about them and just helps differentiate people from a glance.

facial features also play a huge role into making your faces different. these are all drawn from the same exact face shape but look like entirely different characters by adding variety in the features. different noses, eye shapes, lips, etc. can make such a huge difference

i think before any of that its important to learn the anatomy of the face though. again im not gonna go into how many eyes wide a face it or how far the nose is from the mouth but like its always important to learn the fundamentals before stylizing stuff. again the face is a 3d space and if you dont consider your face a 3d plane the features will kind of just look like theyre floating on your characters face like soup...theres a lot of great resources and tutorials online take advantage of those!!! and reference from artists you like too it helps a ton.

and then you mix that all together and Boom you have cool and interesting faces. you will best that same face syndrome in no time if you take my advice Trust...

anyways yeah thats the soda design philosophy hit that like button if you liked it or douse me with tomatoes and kick me off the stage if you think i give bad advice ill leave the decision up to you

#soda's art #art tutorial #errmmm yeah idk how to be a teacher im sorry

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todaysfinds · 2 years

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Summer Wreaths For Your Front Entrance

Summer is the perfect time to bring in the blooms with a wreath. Whether you're looking for something ultra-traditional or on-trend and boho chic, there's no shortage of floral options out there. A DIY summer silk hydrangea wreath can be added to your front door in minutes while adding a splash of color and a delicate texture that will add extra flair to your home this season.

Bring In The Blooms With A Wreath

Summer wreaths can be a great way to welcome guests into your home. A summer wreath can add a whole new look to your front entrance, and they give you an opportunity to get creative with color and texture.

There are many different kinds of flowers that you can use in a wreath, but some of the most common include daisies, roses and sunflowers. For this reason, these are also some of the most popular types of summertime bouquets for weddings or other special occasions. If you want something with a little more variety than just one color scheme or flower type - try picking out multiple colors from both varieties!

DIY Summer Silk Hydrangea Wreath

Materials

Hydrangea silk flower garland, enough to cover your wreath frame

Wire cutter and pliers

How to Make It

Remove the cardboard backing from both sides of the ribbon. Trim any excess from around the frame if needed.

Cut a piece of floral wire as long as you would like your garland to be, plus an extra 8-10 inches for hanging loops on each end of it.

Fold one end over itself away from where you want the loop to be; bend at another angle so that it creates an “L” shape or small circle shape when opened up again (you can also just twist one end). Repeat with other side so that each fold is opposite its partner—this will create two loops at each end when finished! 4. Place floral wire around outer edge of wreath frame and secure with needle-nose pliers by tightly wrapping floral wire around itself until secure but not too tight! It should be very secure though so don't worry about having too much overlap--just make sure there are no gaps where greenery could fall through later on down the line; use more than one wrap if necessary!

Driftwood and Shells Wreath

If you love the beach, this is the wreath for you. It’s a perfect way to showcase your love of nature and bring a little bit of the outdoors inside.

To make this wreath, gather driftwood pieces that are approximately 2 inches in diameter. You can find them at craft stores or buy them online if they aren’t available where you live. Also collect shells and other natural materials like sea grasses and flowers (if you want). Use hot glue to attach them to your driftwood base and form your centerpiece! We recommend making two different designs so that when one starts looking a little tired, just switch it out with another one!

DIY Boho Tassel Wreath

Materials:

Wreath (I used a 22-inch one)

Small piece of ribbon for attaching the tassels to the wreath

Craft foam in your desired color (1 to 2 sheets)

Scissors or craft knife, depending on what you're using to cut out the shapes from the foam.

Directions:

Cut out some circles, stars and squares from your craft foam. If you want them very exact, measure out an even number of circles that are all exactly 1 inch in diameter at their widest point. You can also just eyeball it and make them as close to each other as possible without overlapping or being too far apart! Then cut away a bunch of stars with varying sizes and shapes (you can vary their size based on how large or small you want them). In addition to cutting out these shapes yourself or having someone else do it for you (like I did), I'd recommend trying something like this DIY necklace kit if there are any kids around who would be interested in helping! It comes with everything needed except scissors/knife/glue gun/scissors so they'll have fun making something green while learning about sustainability issues facing our world today!

These summer wreaths are the perfect way to refresh your front door.

Summer wreaths are a great way to bring in the blooms, and they’re easy to make from materials like wood and metal. Here are some tips for making your own summer wreath:

Think about what you want your wreath to look like. Do you want a rustic or modern look? Do you want it to be large or small? How many flowers do you need for your design? These things will help determine how big of an area your summer wreath will take up on the front door.

Choose materials that complement each other well. For example, if one material is red and another is green, choose flowers with colors in between those two hues—for example, purple hydrangeas paired with vibrant yellow dahlias could work nicely together without being too matchy-matchy!

Conclusion

We hope you’ve found a new wreath inspiration to bring in some fresh floral bloom and summer vibes to your home. Wreaths are so easy to make and they add such a nice touch of fun to the front door. They are also great if you don’t have the time or money for an extensive renovation project on your hands right now but still want something different than just hanging up some boring old flower pots!

#summer #decor #design #decorative #decorating tips #decoratingideas

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chasneedsamoustache · 3 years

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A bard’s family reunion

It was already dark when Geralt, accompanied – as he had been for almost a month now – by the troubadour poet Jaskier, reached the inn that would serve as a welcome bed for the night. The pair had been on the road for long enough to be in need of a bed that was not made of branches and rocks and also, most certainly a hot bath, for they both stank.

The red-faced and ill-mannered innkeeper scowled at Geralt – almost a moment too long for the tired witcher before shrugging his shoulders and declaring there to be no room available. If it wasn't for the raucous in the adjoining room, which Geralt presumed to be the main area of the tavern, he may have argued with the man. Instead he lingered, assaulting the the innkeeper with his narrowed eyes, long enough for Jaskier – who had gotten fed up of waiting with the horses and paid a young child a penny to do the job for him – to enter.

At the sight of the bard with, as always, a lute on his back and for reasons that for once did not seem to the witcher to be about him or his mutated existence, the innkeeper suddenly lit up, snapped his fingers and proclaimed there to be a spare room as Jaskier was 'one of those lot'. Geralt took the key offered to him, caring not that the red-faced man was entirely mistaken as whatever was meant by 'that lot' could not apply to the bard who had not even heard of this town, let alone this inn.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Jaskier whispered to Geralt once they had handed their mounts over to the stable boy. “I'm sure we're going to get ourselves into some sort of trouble.”

“As long as that trouble happens in the morning, after a good nights sleep, I am not going to begrudge a little nuisance.”

“Says you, dear witcher, when it was only upon my own entering the establishment that we were permitted a room and thus it is I who will be in trouble for falsely taking up residence in some other poor fools room!”

“Worry not until you are at least bathed and fed, Jaskier.” Geralt said wearily. “Fed being the priority right now, my stomach is an empty cavern and I fear a monster has taken residence there as it is growling rather loudly.”

The troubadour sighed and gave in, his own stomach empty, he agreed that at least they should eat before they were chucked out onto the street for being imposters.

They entered the main section of the inn, Geralt led but paused when greeted by a room packed to the rafters of merry makers, young and old and of a variety of wealth that the witcher had certainly not expected out here in the countryside. Jaskier appeared beside him, looking equally disheartened at the lack of available seating.

The crowd, bristling with excitement, seemed to be centred on a small area with a raised wooden platform that looked to be stage, although it was currently empty of whatever or rather whomever had drawn such a large gathering. Waves of excited whispers and louder giggles passed over the crowd, ignored entirely by the two men who were still scouring the room for even a small space on a crowded bench.

“Perhaps we ought to take a meal in our room.” Jaskier said, having to practically shout to be heard over the hubbub. Geralt turned to his friend with a frown that begged him to repeat himself. Despite being able to hear the bard clearly if he whispered in a hail storm, he had not being paying attention. “I say, pehaps-”

Jaskier stopped mid-sentence, his face turned pale and twitched it's way into a grimace, the likes of which Geralt had never seen on the bard before. Nose wrinkled, Jaskier turned on his heel and made for the exit, announcing that, under no circumstances, could he stay in this place a moment longer. He cried out when the witcher grabbed him by the shoulder, eager to remind him that this was the only warm bed within a days ride.

“You don't understand.” Hissed Jaskier, squirming free of the witcher's grip.

“It matters not how you have wronged-”

“This is worse, we must leave and quickly!”

“Julian!” Too late, Jaskier blanched again and fell back against Geralt in his usual dramatics – although Geralt was not entirely sure it had not been a genuine faint this time for his friend's face was ugly with sickness and fear before the fellow who had called his name, his real name.

“Julian what on earth are you being so ridiculous for?” He approached, dressed as eccentrically, perhaps more so, than the bard who had returned to an upright position. “Oh forgive me, I forgot you don't use that name in public. Jaskier, I'm so glad you've made it! Everyone will be excited, for they were determined you had not even received the numerous invitations sent to you the even more numerous places you have been sighted in recent months. Indeed I believe I have some money to collect as it was only I who placed a wager in favour of your attendance. I thought that innkeeper had given the room we had kept for you, just in case, away to some imposter! ”

“No.” Jaskier's voice was not much more than a wheeze. He looked from Geralt to the room, desperately looking for an escape, for the fellow was blocking his exit.“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” The fellow, who, had precisely the same cornflower blue eyes and chin, and, though his nose was a different shape entirely, could only be Jaskier's brother, perhaps cousin, but brother was much more likely, such was there resemblance in face and mannerism. Geralt found himself raising an eyebrow. “What on earth do you mean by no?”

“Wh-what do you mean by invitation? I received no such thing.” The witcher thought that perhaps he had, but since he squirrelled away any word from his family, which was always the very last thing Jaskier was willing to discuss, he presumed any invitation was lost in the pile of unopened letters the bard thought Geralt did not know about.

“Then this is a happy coincidence! Destiny! Wonderous are the gods who have brought you here on the day of our great reunion!”

“Reunion?” Geralt smiled unpleasantly and Jaskier glared equally as hideously at him.

“Yes friend! Do not worry, brother-mine, it matters not that as usual your manners are lacking, for this man needs no introduction. White hair, yellow eyes, two swords! He could only be Geralt of Rivia! The white wolf! The witcher! The source of all the ballads and such that have made my dear brother famous across these lands. A good friend I believe and thus a friend to us all and certainly welcome at our table for the festivities!

“To answer your question, good witcher, this week is a grand celebration, a reunion of now all of the siblings of Lettenhove, in honour of our good father's birthday, rest his soul. We have commandeered this fine tavern and indeed the town hall and will be playing every night from now until midsummer – Papa's actual birthday if you would believe it – where we shall host a mighty feast and concert!”

“And, if it's not too rude to ask, for my dear Jaskier has failed to inform me of any of his familial relations,” Another, even more hideous glare was earned for the most subtle of Geralt's sarcastic tones, known only to Jaskier for being sarcastic and taken entirely sincerely by anyone else. “How many siblings are you?”

“Fourteen, including Ju- ah Jaskier here and myself.” When Geralt coughed, choking on his own surprise, Jaskier himself stepped in.

“We do not, of course all have the same mother.” He said sneeringly, the sneer was directed at Geralt alone.

“Of course, can you imagine such a poor lady?”

“No, Papa was, as I am, quite the ladies man and a good deal of my siblings were born outside of wedlock. Once he did marry, he remained faithful, I might add, for I do not wish you to think poorly of the man.”

“No, though I do wonder if there is more of us out there.”

“By the gods, John, I hope not!” Jaskier shuddered, finally naming the man in front of him. “I shall explain, dear witcher, but first, brother-mine, I am in incredible need of a drink and whatever passes for food in a place such as this.”

“Certainly! Of course, how rude of me! Come this way!” John waved his hand, much in the same way as Jaskier did when he led Geralt, sweeping and extravagantly. The witcher wondered who learned the technique from who.

Once seated on possibly the most packed table, filled with not only platters of roast meats, steaming fish and an assortment of bread and vegetable dishes, ale tankards and dull goblets full of wine that Geralt immediately knew had corked long ago, but also with at least seven of Jaskier's siblings. Their faces a strange mixture of the bard's familiar features and some that were not nearly as familiar nor pleasant, yet suited each face well. All had the same cornflower blue eyes and all were fixed on either the witcher or his friend, who by all accounts was sulking.

Another sibling had drawn the attention of most of the crowd that filled the rest of the tavern, sitting on stage with a lute, she sung gracefully and played just as well as Jaskier himself. A few, mostly young women of varying levels of beauty, still had their eyes on the table at which Geralt now sat. Eyes on the handsome men there, Jaskier still apparently judged as the most beautiful as most now gazed longingly at him, despite the grimace on his face.

He ignored them all until his friend elbowed him gently, knowing a pretty face or two would soon improve his mood – which it did, tremendously, the bard's grin quickly returned to his face as his winks sent women swooning and blushing. Geralt himself was simply relishing in not being the centre of attention and disgust, there were far too many pleasant young men and indeed women at the table for anyone to notice him and his yellow eyes, let alone be disgusted by them. Save one girl, when Geralt met her gaze, she smiled and nodded faintly to him.

“And now, dear friend, I shall endeavour to explain my peculiar family.” Jaskier interrupted the exchange, now feeling merrier having quickly emptying two mugs of beer, a third in a hand he swung about to draw attention. “My Papa, Joshua Austin Pankratz, seventh Viscount of Lettenhove, like myself -”

“And your all of your siblings.” A woman who looked to be in her early thirties with the same soft curl as Jaskier in her auburn hair, holding a babe in one hand and a turkey leg in the other, interrupted. Geralt had the impression that this was not the first time she had had to remind Jaskier to include more than just himself.

“Yes, like myself and all of my wonderful siblings was a bard, a troubadour, a poet, a man of music and although talented with many an instrument, favoured, like myself and my siblings, the lute. Before his own father passed away, he roamed the countryside and courts, playing to much applause and gaining fame which rivals my own. He also found his way to the bed of many a woman and some of those women provided him with gifts in the form of my older brothers and sisters.” A few of the men and women in the middle of the table nodded, one, the redhead with the babe, rolled her eyes so viciously she appeared to strain them. Jaskier ignored her.

“Papa,” Jaskier continued. “Was most unhappy when he was forced to give up his life as a bard and return to the family estate in Lettenhove to settle down as the Viscount. Soon after he wed my lovely mother, may she rest peacefully.”

“If your lord father had to settle down, then why are you still wondering the countryside like a pauper?” Geralt asked and his friend sneered again, turning his head from Geralt's raised eyebrows and questioning gaze.

“Our dear brother,” Said John, chuckling as he bit into a rather large slice of spiced pork pie, which caused him to choke, spluttering astonishingly elegantly into a handkerchief until the man beside him gave him a rather firm smack on the shoulders. “Thank you Johan – where was I? Oh yes, our brother, himself now the Viscount of Lettenhove, has a rather splendid advantage that our dear departed Papa did not. Juli- oh pox, do forgive me brother, Jaskier here, has a wealth of siblings with whom he shares the responsibilities that come with his title, leaving him Viscount in name only for most of the year, whilst we all take turns in running our little corner of the world. All of us except Jennifer, who is still too young, that is.”

“How did you trick your family into such an arrangement?” Geralt directed the question to his friend.

“Oh, before Papa passed away, we all took turns in threatening to give up the title and pass it on to the next sibling until all that was left was poor little Jennifer, at the time was still inside her mother's belly. A late surprise that one, didn't know Papa still had it in him. Anyway, it was he that suggested that, although I, being the oldest son borne of marriage, would officially be the Viscount, we split the responsibility – bastard or not. Works out to less than a month a year, which in order to keep our land and our money and so on, really isn't that much hassle, even for a group of travelling poets. ”

“Quite so.” John agreed, as did a few of the others.

“Come to think of it, who's in charge if you are all here?” Jaskier asked with a strangely concerned tone.

“Oh, Jac's husband, just for the week.” John replied.

“I suppose that is fine.” Sniffed Jaskier. “So anyway, we take it turns to, you know, be the Viscount, in order of age. Johan is the oldest, sat beside John there, then Judith at the end of the table, John, who you know, Jessica, currently performing and younger only by a few months, Jemima, born of my mother but before she wed my father, who is over there with a babe. How many have you now, dear sister?”

“Fetty here is the fith.”

“Goodness, are you also trying to create enough children for an orchestra?” Jemima scowled but was distracted by patting the babe back to sleep.

“Yes Geralt, our dear father realised at some point that a few more children and he may well have his own little troupe or orchestra. The joke is that we all turned out to love the lute and the lute alone.”

“Except for Jennifer.”

“Indeed, except for Jennifer who plays,” The bard let out a sigh which was echoed by a few of more vibrantly dressed siblings. “the triangle.”

A snotty-nosed and rather mucky girl, who could be no older than eight or nine, sat on the end of the table, grinned suddenly and it was only then that Geralt saw the resemblance to Jaskier. She snuffled her nose, which was in desperate need of wiping, and held up said instrument. A piece of thin metal bent into the shape of a triangle, hanging from a string. The girl hit it with a metal stick, rather triumphantly and Geralt smiled at her for ignoring her siblings sighs and being proud of her own talents. Johan beside her patted her on the back and pulled a rag from his pocket for her to wipe her little nose on.

“So after Jemima,” Jaskier was now determined to finish his explanations. “Came myself. Then, Jacob, Jacqueline, Jasper, who is doing a terrible job of wooing that poor lady over yonder, and Jane, beside me.

“And then, my dearest darling mother sadly left this world, the pox took her. Papa was most unhappy for a long time, until he found Sasha, whom he wed after some time, much to all of our relief. Afterwards came Joel and Jeremiah and finally, our very, very late little egg, Jennifer.” Jennifer grinned again, puffing up proudly as if she had planned her own conception.

The evening continued and amidst eating and drinking and bouts of applause, Geralt heard more and more about Jaskier's family. A hundred different tales from when they were young, including the day Jennifer was born and they all stood on the battlements with their father and played their lutes in unison until they were shouted down by the nursemaid for disturbing the new baby. It did however, become a tradition that they met once a year and played together on the battlements, now joined by little Jennifer who hit her triangle enthusiastically in time with the others.

The witcher heard other stories, from all the siblings, who came and went, sometimes in large groups, back and forth from the stage. Family squabbles and disagreements, silly spats and fights – some of which were still unresolved – as well as many adventures they had happily shared and heart warming tales of happy times.

Stories of rule as Viscount, and of when Jaskier had vanished for almost an entire year, which turned out to be entirely Geralt's fault. He was forgiven but warned not to occupy his friend's time in late spring again. He heard too, happy stories of love and siblings supporting one another and soon Geralt understood the family to, despite Jaskier's half-hearted protests, truly care for one another.

Jaskier himself, now rather drunk on beer and corked wine, seemed to be the biggest champion of all his siblings, cheering them on and arguing – sometimes a little too aggressively – with them when he was praised above them. Truly, it seemed to Geralt that he loved them dearly, each and every one. Even if the bard ended up as the butt of many a joke, now released of any pretence, he laughed along side his siblings, heartedly and with no sign of sourness.

At one point Jaskier announced that he had in fact received the invitation and had pushed Geralt to come through here, despite pretending to have no knowledge of this place, when indeed he knew it to be the only inn around and that, by the time they reached it, Geralt would be sick of sleeping outside. The witcher himself laughed most heartedly, declaring that he had been played most cunningly, which in that moment he realised he had. He even joined in with the applause when Jaskier stood up and bowed to the cheers and laughter of his siblings for tricking a witcher.

When the dawn approached, Geralt had the pleasure of carrying Jaskier to bed. He was surprised that all the siblings, even Jennifer – though she had been asleep on Johan's lap for many hours – stayed until the innkeeper told them he must prepare for the day that had already arrived. It was only when they were on the stairs and finally alone, that Geralt asked Jaskier why he had hidden his family for so long and why even when they had arrived, he had tried to run.

“I want to be Jaskier, not Julian Alfred Pankratz, when I'm with you. And I thought that if you met my family that would change.” The bard said, his speech so slurred that Geralt could only just understand what he was saying. “They're good people, a good family, but I dislike that I'm a Viscount. I'm a bard, Geralt! A bard and only a bard! I've only used my title to get you out of trouble – like that time they caught you swindling the crown because of that red haired witch.” Geralt met Jaskier's blurred gaze and his friend began to giggle. “What I'm saying is,” He dribbled when his laughter had subsided. “The person you are friends with is Jaskier, troubadour, poet, womaniser, a man whom doesn't have a family with fourteen siblings and an increasing number of nieces and nephews. A man who can stand tall on his achievements, unique and talented and not one of many and not even the best among them.”

Jaskier's voice grew quiet and Geralt shook his head at such a notion.

“Dear friend, for you are truly my friend, perhaps the only true friend I have. Not because of your musical talent, nor your proficiency at bedding women and certainly not because you are a man without a family – though I did have you down as an only child, I must admit. No, dear, dear Jaskier, you are my friend for many reasons, your courage for one. You have been to places and taken part in things more dangerous than any normal man and from what I gather, certainly any of your siblings would readily involve themselves in. You have also saved me more times and in more ways than I can count. You are loyal, a horrible wretch, hilarious and utterly unique and with qualities I cannot even put into words, for I am no poet, but all of which make you my very dear friend and that will not change whether you are lonesome Jaskier or Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, one of fourteen or even a hundred siblings, all of whom play the lute with the exception of Jennifer who plays the triangle. You are my friend Jaskier, and always will be.”

The bard looked at Geralt with eyes shimmering with tears and, just as Geralt though he would speak, Jaskier turned his head an vomited into a plant pot.

#Jaskier #geraskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier family

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geralt-jaskier · 4 years

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Changes

In which Jaskier gets turned into a woman. Rated M.

You can also read on ao3

Jaskier is only trying to help, which could possibly be the title of the biography that will surely be written about him one day. Only Trying to Help, the epic tale of a bard and all manner of trouble he gets into alongside his witcher friend.

They are rifling through the house of a mage that Geralt is tracking down. Geralt sniffs and squints around for clues, and really if you think about it, the whole situation is his fault because in between all that sniffing and squinting he says, “Make yourself useful, Jaskier. Search the bedroom.”

So he does as he’s told, and what happens next could have happened to anyone--Geralt included. When Jaskier reaches for a suspicious-looking piece of paper poking out of a book on the upper shelf, he knocks over a small bottle on one of the lower shelves, and when the glass shatters against the ground, some of the liquid inside splashes onto Jaskier.

He freezes, waiting for pain or, perhaps, even pleasure, but there’s nothing. He reaches a hand back out for the note, but it’s not...his hand is not his hand.

“Geralt!” Jaskier calls, panic growing in his voice as he looks down at this body and, oh sweet Gods, hears his voice, “something has gone very very very very wrong.”

His voice is not his, that is not his voice, he thinks frantically.

Geralt rushes up the stairs and when he catches sight of Jaskier his eyes go wide in a way that they normally do not, which only confirms Jaskier’s fears that indeed something has gone very very very very wrong. “Fuck.”

“I need a mirror. Do I need a mirror? Do I even want to see?” the voice that is not his own asks, panic-stricken.

“There’s one on the other side of the room.” Geralt has the audacity to laugh, so at least it’s not like Jaskier is dying, but now does not feel like the appropriate time for Geralt to be a complete and utter shithead.

Jaskier’s clothes feel too loose now, and he has to hold his trousers up with one hand as he makes his way over to the alchemist’s changing area.

In the mirror staring back at him is a beautiful dark-haired woman. He recognizes his eyes, gone wide now with shock.

Geralt comes to stand behind him.

“One of your tits is hanging out,” Geralt points out.

“Yes, thank you, Geralt. I can see that.” Jaskier can’t look away from the reflection where indeed one of his tits has fallen out of the v-neck of his now-loose white tunic. “Nice tit, though.”

“Hm.” Geralt nods back at him in the mirror.

After three weeks, they’ve not had much luck finding anyone who knows of a cure. They haven’t managed to track the mage who was responsible for the potion, and the two alchemists they’ve spoken to were utterly flummoxed.

“I know of a group of druids we can speak to,” Geralt says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I have another alchemist contact in Temeria. We will find a cure for you, Jaskier.”

It’s been taking some adjustment to get used to the changes in the way his body is built, the way it moves, how there is somehow considerably less strength. It’s even harder to get used to the staring and leers and horrible come-ons. He feels a bit like a double-agent, now working for the other side and is deeply embarrassed by the lack of finesse from his old team.

If he stands a little closer to Geralt when they stop at a tavern, that’s only because it offers a welcome reprieve from the attention his beauty attracts when men think that he’s the girlfriend of a terrifying witcher.

Jaskier learns that while he definitely does know how to please a woman--as all of his past lovers will attest--there is still so much to learn. He’s lying on his stomach, hand between the bedroll and his body as he rubs slow circles around his clit.

“Would you stop doing that,” Geralt snaps one night from his bedroll on the other side of the fire.

Jaskier freezes. He’d thought that without the revealing and obvious sound of his hand against his cock he’d be able to get away with this.

“Doing what?” Jaskier asks as innocently and evenly as he can, hand still between his thighs.

“I can smell and hear you,” Geralt adds through gritted teeth.

“The thing is, Geralt. Is that I’m really really close.”

He doesn’t add that not only is he too aroused to feel the weight of mortification that he should surely feel, he’s only more turned on knowing that Geralt is aware of what’s happening. He imagines Geralt getting up, sliding under the blanket with Jaskier and then sliding into Jaskier’s ready, willing, wet--seriously, dripping wet--cunt.

His whole body goes tense, thighs trembling, and he can’t help the muffled moan he lets out into the blanket as he comes.

“Fuck you, Jaskier,” Geralt says, and Jaskier is sure he’s wrong, but it sounds a little strangled.

Geralt has been more irritable than usual about Jaskier coming on hunts with him.

“I’m not sure how my being a woman changes anything. I wasn’t exactly critical to the monster-killing side of the operation.”

“No shit.”

“So that settles it. I’m coming with you.”

Though he’s gotten funny about letting Jaskier go on hunts, he’s gotten even funnier about traveling with Jaskier. It makes some sense that they wouldn’t part ways until a cure was found, but Geralt could have ridden ahead on his own and told Jaskier to stay put in a city like Novigrad.

But he doesn’t, and as they make their way towards Temeria to speak to Geralt’s contact there, he finds he likes living alongside Geralt as though this is their everyday life. Geralt takes contracts and Jaskier still performs for coin and, of course, accolades.

He even announces to his audiences, with great excitement, that he is, in fact, the famous bard Jaskier and has been temporarily afflicted by a curse that has turned him into the gorgeous woman they see before them today.

At the end of his performances, he’s found it quite lucrative to say, “Every coin you can spare helps me continue my search for a cure.”

The thing that’s funniest and strangest of all about Geralt’s behavior during this whole ordeal is that while Geralt doesn’t want Jaskier on hunts, he seems to want him alone in the evenings even less. Geralt sits in all manner of corners and glowers and broods more than he’d done in the past while Jaskier performs--his voice as gorgeous as ever as he adjusts to his new range and the highest of notes he can now reach--and if there’s even a hint of nastiness from the crowd, Geralt puts a stop to it with one of his infamously scary looks.

Jaskier rather likes it.

“Husbands are so much less violent when they catch me sleeping with their wives now,” Jaskier muses. “All I have to do is wink at them and they’re practically thanking me for doing it!”

“We need to find a cure,” Geralt mutters.

It’s now been nearly three months since Jaskier’s transformation, and the contact in Temaria was unable to help them. They’re now making their way to the druids, and at this point, Jaskier is starting to come to terms with the fact that he might have to adjust to life as a goddess. There are worse things that could have happened to him, honestly.

There is one thing, though, that he hasn’t done for a variety of reasons that he would very much like to try, and he thinks maybe just maybe Geralt will be willing to help. They’ve barely been apart from one another in these past months, and Jaskier is sure that his request will at worst be met with an irritated silence.

He drinks just enough ale one evening before they head up to their room and cap off the night with a round of cards that he finally works up the courage to both literally and figuratively lay his cards down.

“Geralt,” I have a proposition. “Now, you can say no if you--”

“No.”

“At least let me finish!”

Geralt fixes him with a wry look but waves a hand as if to cede the floor to Jaskier.

“I would like you to fuck me. Now, before you say no again, let me explain where I’m coming from. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and my reasoning, I’m sure you’ll find, is quite sound. Over the years, you and I have built up a certain level of trust, so I feel confident telling you that a little tumble in the sheets couldn’t possibly harm that. Not for two friends as close as us.”

Geralt rolls his eyes, right on cue.

“As a witcher, I know you’re sterile so there’s no risk of, uh, child.” Jaskier really does not want to experience that part of womanhood. The monthly bleeding is already terrible enough and after complaining and complaining Geralt finally bought him potions that helped ease the pain, and then he kept providing them without being asked.

“You want me to fuck you because it won’t hurt our friendship and because you won’t get pregnant,” Geralt says slowly.

“Well, I also think you’d make it very enjoyable.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You can say no, but I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Jaskier says, an accusatory note in his voice, just daring Geralt to deny it.

Deny it he does. “It’s just jarring seeing you like this.”

“That’s nonsense, and you know it. It’s been months. You’ve had plenty of time to get used to me like this.” Jaskier gestures down at his perfectly shaped, lovely body that he would ravish in a heartbeat if presented with the opportunity. Really, Geralt should be getting down on his knees and thanking him.

Geralt glares at him across the table.

Jaskier knows Geralt will never hurt him, so he does what he’d want a sexy seductress to do to him if the roles were reversed, and he goes to Geralt and straddles him in his seat.

“Jaskier,” Geralt’s voice is a low rumble, and Jaskier can see how his amber eyes are going dark. “This is a bad--”

Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck and kisses him, and after a moment Geralt puts his hands on Jaskier’s waist and kisses him back. He can feel the hard outline of Geralt’s cock pressing against his clit and he grounds himself down, chasing that sweet friction.

He’s losing himself in the kiss, the building ache in his cunt, his breasts pressed against Geralt’s strong chest when Geralt stands, Jaskier’s legs wrapping around him, and walks them to the bed.

The next morning Jaskier rolls over and opens his eyes to find Geralt looking at him strangely.

“What?” Jaskier says in a voice that is his but not his. He looks down at himself. His beautiful tits are gone, his hairy chest has returned. He feels sweet relief and joy and a touch of regret which grows into an entire fistful of regret when he catches Geralt’s eyes and realizes that last night would be a memory not to be repeated. His stomach drops.

Geralt’s brow furrows. “Don’t have to go find the druids then.”

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed,” Jaskier says testily.

“I’m not,” Geralt says. “Are you?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier sighs and says wistfully, “I was so beautiful.”

“You did make a beautiful woman,” Geralt agrees. He hesitates then says, “Don’t really mind what I’m seeing now either, though.”

There’s a moment where Jaskier thinks he must have misheard or misunderstood, but as he meets Geralt’s eyes and Geralt doesn’t look away, Jaskier’s heart begins to hammer. A smile spreads across his face.

“Leave the sweet-talking to me from now on, Geralt,” he says, not meaning this at all.

He tugs Geralt to him and Jaskier celebrates the welcome return of his cock.

As they ride on from the town, Jaskier begins to work on a song about his time as a woman, which he will always remember fondly.

“How does this sound? Oh how I’d fix this, I couldn’t be sure / Only to find true love’s cock was the cure .”

“True love’s cock.” Geralt snorts. “That’s a new one.”

Jaskier waits for the moment Geralt will tell him it’s not true love.

The moment never comes.

#geraskier #geraskier fanfic #gerlion #geskier #fem!jaskier #my writing #genderswap #short fic

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hoodoo12 · 3 years

Text

Festival (11/30)

It’s not all smutty fun and games. Some participants have other things on their minds . . .

@beetlebitchywitch @beejiesbitch @turtlepated @clairjohnson @memedemonhours @monsterlovinghours @yankyo @edosunshine @go-commander-kim @saucymangos

Jessie couldn't keep the smile off her face as Ollie led her from the pile of smaller fey. She had to admit there was something charming about being seen as something exotic. She'd never felt she could be seen that way before, having been either ignored or outright mistreated for much of her life prior to having met Beetlejuice. She'd learned to feel genuinely attractive with him, the way he never seemed to tire of her body. To have others who didn't know a thing about her wanting to respectfully fuck her was unprecedented, and she rather enjoyed the confidence boost.

She hardly noticed when the brownie following them turned back, instead looking forward, up, and around them as he led her on. She listened attentively, smiling and giggling sometimes when he would need to refer back to Gaelic in his descriptions and explanations. Holding tight to his hand as he led her amidst the revelers, Jessie listened to him with a passionate curiosity, observing the different fey, couplings and dancing. She looked pleasantly surprised when the fawn lowered down to get a look at her. Her heart was pounding in her chest with excitement by the time Ollie had helped her down from the creature's head.

Her jaw dropped a bit at the sight of the centaur's cock, and she laughed aloud , shaking her head a little.

"I don't know if I'd be able to do much with a dick that big, honey. I appreciate the vote of confidence though," she chuckled, pulling him close, chest to chest. Her lips pressed to his tenderly for a moment, though she didn't want to distract him much, worried that they'd end up getting squished if she took too much of his attention out in the open.

"I've never been to something like this before, it's all so new... and it's rather a lot of fun. Thank you, sweetie . . . I don't know how you managed to do this, but . . . I'm really glad I get to share this time with you . . . glad that you get to experience more of me. You saved my life, and made it better with your company . . . I cherish you, honey."

She nuzzled the tip of his nose and kissed him again sweetly. "You know, hun, if you can find a cozy little spot for us to be alone . . . I'd love to take our time. Focus on you, y'know? The others are interesting and all but . . . I'm here for you, Ollie."

She didn't notice the man who'd followed them, either, blocking out the others who stared in her desire to make him understand that her focus was on him, truly.

Could his heart burst? He knew of selkies forced to stay with men who stole their skins, who wasted away pining for the ocean. They weren’t given a choice. But he, despite being grabbed by the big bastard out of nowhere, *wanted* to be exactly where he was now, accepted and happy with his odd little family. Jessie’s offer was too good to pass up, and he stepped up against her, kissing her feverishly to try and pour how he felt into her. Her body was warm against his skin. He’d received too many kisses to count from her previously, but to to be the same size, to properly be able to touch her tongue with his, for her to be as affectionate with him as she was with Beetlejuice, left him breathless. He kept her close as the kiss waxed and waned, and when it broke off naturally, he smiled. “A spot for us?” he asked without needing an answer.

He didn’t want to get too close to the centaur and his harem of squealing and moaning women, so he cast a glance around and noted an unoccupied place that was near one of the smaller fires. The grasses were still taller there, so no one had stepped on them. It’d be perfect for a private tryst. Ollie kissed Jessie again then laced his fingers through hers to begin leading her to the patch of grass. They’d not gotten more than a few steps before out of nowhere he was grabbed by the back of the neck and yanked up off the ground. Startled, he didn’t even have time to tighten his grip on Jessie’s hand before his fingers slipped out of hers. He screeched and flailed, and felt a surge of fear for Jessie, still on the ground, just as surprised as he was.

“You are a leprechaun!” a man crowed gleefully, as Ollie was hoisted face level with him.

⁂

At the acceptance of Carmen's answer, Beej grinned and levitated both himself and his lover, curling around her back and sucking at the back of her neck even as her body lost contact with the ground below.

As he lifted them both, he slipped his legs between hers and gripped her tits to steady her, even as a third hand reached between his legs to angle his cock head up against the entrance of her pussy. He lifted his own legs, spreading them wide to expose the pussy beneath the length of his cock, glistening already with slick and squeezing on nothing in invitation.

He winked at BJ from over Carmen's shoulder as his fingertips plucked and pinched her nipples playfully, keeping her upright so that should she want to hold or kiss the other she would be free to do so. He adjusted their height, keeping her legs spread using his own and presenting himself at the height of BJ's cock in a relaxed standing position, and the hand that had held his cock to aim it for him slipped down to part the lips of his pussy.

"Don't have to worry 'bout hurtin' me either. Can fuck as hard 'n deep as you like, it'll just milk more come into 'er," he murmured, finally leaning back a bit and sliding his hands from Carmen's tits to her back to offer her support to sit up on his shaft. He bounced his hips, letting his cock's head press tight against the back of her pussy with the force of her body weight as he held them suspended.

His female clone, noting at the other two seemed to be in the position her original intended, pulled slowly back off of BJ's cock, pressing a reverent kiss to his tip with her plump lips.

"What do you say, handsome? You wanna stuff that pussy full of cock and fill it up with every drop in your balls?" she asked, nuzzling the underside of his shaft and taking both of his balls into her mouth, tongue swirling around his sack. She pulled off of them with a pop to add,

"And if you'd like anything from me, either of you," she glanced to Carmen, "just say the word, I am here to please, after all."

Beej, noting that he had never properly introduced his clone, looked to BJ.

"She's a clone of mine, a part of me. Physical manifestation of part of my personality. Don't need to have her out if it's crowded here, figured you appreciate the female figure more 'n mine, just wanted ta offer more variety," he explained.

Despite the way he spoke, his clone seemed entirely unbothered and opened here mouth, looking up at BJ and Carmen. The sight of the latter changed the shapes in her eyes from stars to hearts, and she reached one arm up to tenderly stroke the length of her calf.

Being lifted and shifted again, a smooth dance that ended with her giggling that became a gasp as Beej’s cock stretched her open made Carmen shudder more fully and groan. His movements, creating a subtle bounce that kept him deep inside her thanks to gravity made it difficult for a moment to concentrate on anything but the sweet pleasure that erupted in her belly again. She clutched at his thighs for a moment, for stability, but as Beej’s hands roamed her she pushed herself upright and leaned back a little. No longer worried about being exposed in front of anyone here, this felt right, being fully on display, wanton and euphoric. Clenching her pussy as tightly around him as she could, she rolled her lower back to help provide friction. She’d also liked to have run her hand over his cock, to feel where he fit inside her and even dip down further to finger his clit, but the other ghost took a step forward in between their legs. Instead of feeling embarrassed or jealous, words rang in her head-- “fuck as hard 'n deep as you like, it'll just milk more come into 'er~”--and that was exactly what she wanted: Beej’s come, as much as it could go into her and fill her up. BJ licked his lips at the buffet laid out in front of him. With Jessie, he was the shapeshifter, the accommodating one, and to have someone else literally offer whatever he might desire was heady. He loved what he could provide and what he did with Jessie, but this was a special night. She was indulging with Ollie, so why not take advantage of what was offered?

Without another moment’s hesitation, BJ took his cock in hand and nudged it between Beej’s lips. It felt like a wet pussy--not warm, like a breather’s, but familiar nonetheless. He pulled himself through the slick a few times, liking to hear the gasp as he brushed the other ghost’s clit. Then, as everyone seemed to hold their breath in anticipation, he took another step closer, and eased himself without pause into the cunt. Carmen groaned because Beej groaned and his fingers tightened on her. She reached for his feminine clone, unsure if the two men she was semi-caught between were going to be so rough taking their pleasure she’d be unseated. Pulling her closer for support, Carmen couldn’t help but twist enough for a kiss, and couldn’t help slipping her tongue into the clone’s mouth even as she continued to moan.

⁂

Ollie looked so happy that it made Jessie's heart swell. She wished that her biofeedback worked the same for fey as it did for humans and ghosts . . . and whatever her previous lover had been. She moaned low in her throat as Ollie stepped closer to her, holding her tight to his body that fit so nicely against hers in this new stature that she had to admit, she actually rather enjoyed.

She stroked his back as their tongues danced in their mouths, no effort required to pour passion and loving intent into the kiss, though she did still wish he could feel the depth of her appreciation and adoration, the way she knew BJ would have been able to.

Her wondering about the nature of fey and why they seemed so incompatible with the light inside her was ended by his verbal confirmation that he understood what she'd requested. She returned his kiss happily, and blushed as his fingers interlaced with hers, despite the odd number of digits. She held it comfortably and made to follow him.

The sudden grasp of a hand from above that hoisted him up and caused him to screech and thrash set a blaze in her stomach as she looked up at whomever had so rudely taken him from her. She'd lost her grip on his hand and remained on the ground as a man she didn't know lifted Ollie to his face.

She was rushed with anger and felt near powerless as he was lifted so high away from her. But . . . she wasn't powerless. With her brow furrowed in agitation, she glared at the man's shoulder, focusing hard on the location before using her power to deposit herself on it, next to the shell of his ear.

Her tiny hands grabbed his earlobe forcefully, and she stomped on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Excuse me! Who are you, and why wouldn't you even ask if you could pick him up? It's fucking rude," she bellowed beside his ear, her anger held tight inside her as she tried to avoid feeding rage in someone significantly larger than herself.

Ollie had no idea who this person was. He continued to writhe impotently in the man’s grip, desperate to escape. His initial startle faded to rage and he ranted in Gaelic at the man, promising nothing but hardship and despair and misfortune. If he’d been angry at Beetlejuice plucking him up, it was nothing like the atomic rage that coursed through him now. The man laughed at him like he was nothing as he examined him. “You’re special. First generation, right? Direct from Ireland. I’ve been wanting a leprechaun--”

Ollie continued to spit, but slowed when Jessie herself appeared on the man’s shoulder, shouting at him too. He didn’t want whatever this man’s purpose was to turn to her; if he was a novelty, she was nothing short of a miracle, even in a gathering like this. Desperately, he tried to think of a way out of this mess.

Out of nowhere, just how it seemed this man appeared, the faun who’d taken polite interest in Jessie was there. It cocked its head and bleated, drawing the man’s attention away for a split second. Scowling in annoyance, the man kicked at the faun. The faun scampered away. Still annoyed, the man brushed at Jessie dismissively like she was a gnat, keeping his eyes on Ollie. If he’d just avert his gaze for a second, he might have enough strength left to disappear from his fingers. It’d be difficult to find Jessie again for a little bit, but that was a better price to pay than being trapped like this.

“I don’t want gold,” the man laughed, like Ollie was going to try an bargain his way to freedom. “You’re just coming with me--”

“Hey!”

A woman’s voice interrupted him. Ollie wiggled as best he could to try and see the who this may be. It took him a moment, but then he realized it was the woman who had spoken to him in Jessie’s hood the store! The one who had given him lychees!

Fully nude, areas of her skin glistening and others a little crusty from obvious come, the short woman stomped up beside the man. The little faun accompanied her. “What do you think you’re doing?! Put him down right now!”

The man’s back stiffened. “You can’t talk to Lucien Stone that way, witch! I’m a Warlock of the First Order and you have no right--”

At their raised voices, people began to look over.

She dropped her chin. “I’m Eve Fairborne-LaBeau, warlock, and I know exactly who you are. Andy Clarke. Put him down right now!”

The warlock lifted his lip and puffed himself up, obviously ready to laugh in her face like he had Ollie’s. Eve stared him down, and he seemed to become aware that others had stopped their celebrations and were starting to turn to them. Their faces were not friendly either.

“Third time is a dangerous number to make me repeat myself,” Eve said quietly. A very faint tremor rolled the soil under their feet. “Are you willing to suffer the consequences?”

Lucien--Andy--scowled again but did not make her carry through her threat. Carefully he set Ollie back down on the ground. Jessie quickly joined him, hugging him to her as they backed away. As the warlock stood again, Eve nodded sharply. “Excellent decision. Now leave. You’ve damaged some of the energy of this celebration and are not welcome any longer.” With his lips still twisted, Lucien--Andy--opened his mouth to argue that point, but several more fauns crowded around Eve, as did other witches and Richard. A minotaur also stepped closer, to add his bulk to the folks who wanted this warlock gone. With a dismissive wave, he turned to go. Eve stepped after him, to put herself in between Ollie and Jessie as he passed them. There was silence as people who were aware of the altercation watched him walk out of the circle, muttering under his breath as he went. Eve held her hand up and an imp flew into it, like a falcon to a glove. She whispered to it, “Stay with him please. I want to make sure he actually leaves and doesn’t bother anyone else.”

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Movie Beetlejuice #Musical Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #Beetlejuice x Beetlejuice #long fic #rp #festival #OC x OC

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

The Awesome Saucers Pt 4

A/n: This my favorite part so far! I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,206

Warnings: One line of Tam being a confirmed emo fan

“The third group hangout this week, B. I’m impressed,” Tam remarked. The group consisted only of the people with instruments, those who she wanted to add to the team. They were gathered in Everglen, Biana’s room full of diamond designs and DIY projects. Most of them were sitting on her circular teal carpet, with Linh on the bed, and Stina leaning against the lavender walls to the side.

“Yeah, I know, so I’m just gonna get straight to the point. I want to form a band with you guys.”

“A what?” Stina scoffed. “There are so many things wrong with that idea. First of all, why would I want to be associated with you?”

“I never said I was talking to you,” Biana chided. “If you don’t want to be a part of it, fine. But as for the rest of you, I know you have it in you.”

“But we just got our instruments the other day,” Maruca argued. “We have no skills.”

Biana sighed in frustration, eyes fluttering shut. That’s two against her already. She took a seat in the teal bean bag in her room, crossing her legs and folding her hands together. Breathe in. Breathe out. This was going to work, Biana thought to herself. It has to.

“I know, Maruca, I know,” Marella rejoined, remembering the conversation she had the day prior. “But did we really get our instruments to play human music individually? Did we really expect to learn a new musical language by ourselves?”

“A band could give us the support we need,” Linh added softly. “We won’t make it on our own. You can’t make the music you love with your own instrument alone. And think about it: three guitarists, a drummer for the rhythm, a pianist, a cellist, a clarinetist, and a singer. All the components of a good band. There’s variety.”

“I mean, I’m open to it,” Dex comforted. “It’d be fun to hang out with each other more. There aren’t many places we can go to get entertained anyway.”

“And that’s what practice is for, right?” Jensi suggested.

Biana looked up. There was hope. “Exactly. And as for skill level, that’s what practice is for! So who’s in?”

Marella, Linh, Dex, Jensi, and even Tam raised their hands.

“Maruca? Stina? The floor’s still open.”

“I’ll do it,” Maruca eventually agreed.

Everyone turned to Stina in expectation.

“Why are you all looking at me? I don’t need a group to thrive.”

“We’re not saying you do, Stina,” Tam tried carefully. “We’re saying you’d be a valuable asset to the band.”

“Well, obviously,” Stina bragged. “But I make no commitments. Not to you.”

“You can always drop us later,” Biana reassured, concealing her surprise that Tam’s comment had worked. “It’s entirely your choice.”

“Fine,” Stina conceded reluctantly. “But I can and I will drop out at any time.”

“Of course. But for now, we have to at least decide the band name. Any suggestions?”

“The Comebacks?” Tam offered.

“I’m for it,” Stina blurted. Everyone looked at her oddly, as if she were from another planet.

“What? I like it.”

“Ok, no,” Jensi objected, wrinkling his nose. “That’s too dark.”

“And emo,” Biana helped.

Tam snorted. “Don’t act so surprised.”

Marella and Linh shared a look and hid their smirks in their hands. Biana waved her hand in front of Dex’s face to get his attention.

“Remember the name we trashed for Team Valiant?”

“Which one?” Dex grinned, having a feeling he knew exactly where this conversation was going.

“The best one. We should use that.”

“Uh, are we missing something?” Maruca inquired.

“You’ll see,” they said in unison.

“But as for now,” Biana announced, “Dex and I have a logo to make. Help yourselves to food downstairs, we’ll be done in a bit.”

The others left the room as Dex and Biana began scheming.

___________

“You do know which one I was referring to, right, Dex?”

“Say it on the count of three. One, two three!”

“AWESOME SAUCE,” they yelled in unison, before realizing how loud they had spoken.

“I always suspected that you were a Telepath,” Biana giggled.

“So, what’s the plan, B?”

“I want this logo to reference everyone, but also reference the name of the band, but other than that, I don’t know.”

“I have an idea. Do you have paper somewhere?”

Biana leaned over to her nightstand and rustled around blindly before pulling out a sheet of paper.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Dex murmured, clearly already lost in thought. He began doodling, making a few sketches before finally settling on the one in the center. He handed the paper to her, pointing to the design he decided on. Biana’s eyes lit up. She could see it now. Her future. Their future. The next generation. The one that would change the Lost Cities for the better.

“I love it,” Biana gushed. “Are you ready to create it? I’ve got tons of supplies in my closet.”

“You bet,” Dex smiled.

__________

Dex carried their new band design down the stairs as Biana skipped forward excitedly. When they entered the kitchen, Linh and Marella were showing off how much they had improved in terms of controlling their powers.

“Fintan may be a loon, but he knows loads about pyrokinetics,” Marella stated. “I doubt we’d be able to do this right now if I hadn’t accepted his offer to tutor me.”

“We’re ready,” Biana practically sang.

Stina rolled her eyes, but this time she seemed more amused than anything else. “What do you have in store for us, princess?”

Biana beckoned Dex from the hallway as he held up the sign. The crew was silent in shock.

It was shaped like a white octagon, each side symbolizing one crew member. Everyone had a spherical gem in their corner, corresponding to them in some way, courtesy of Biana’s jewelry box. Biana’s gem was a teal sapphire, Dex’s an emerald, Linh’s an amethyst, Tam’s an onyx, Marella’s a garnet, Maruca’s an aquamarine, Jensi’s an amber, and Stina’s a pearl. In gold calligraphy, The Awesome Saucers was spelled, written sideways within the octagon.

Finally, Marella spoke up. “That right there? That’s amazing.”

“I love the symbolism,” Linh breathed. “And the gems are pretty.”

“So you guys like it?” Dex hesitantly asked.

“Are you kidding, dude?” Jensi laughed. “We love it!”

Dex and Biana breathed a sigh of relief.

“I knew it would work,” Dex joked.

“Yeah, right,” Biana snapped playfully.

Tam rubbed his hands together. “So, this is official? We’re the Awesome Saucers?”

“Yup,” Biana piped up. “This is official.”

_________

Tam and Linh decided to take their instruments to the shores of Choralmere. If they were going to make horrible music practicing, it should at least have some use.

“You wanna go first?” Tam invited.

“Sure,” Linh replied. What’s the worst that can happen? She placed her bow on the strings of her cello, trying to get a feel of the instrument. Once she did so, she drew it from side to side. While she looked elegant, the sounds escaping the wooden vessel were horrible and ear wrenching.

“What is that NOISE?” Mai Song shouted from the house.

“Oh, yeah,” Linh giggled, smiling to herself. “No regrets at all.”

Taglist: @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @a-lonely-tatertot @an-absolute-travesty @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @linhamon-roll @percabetn @loverofallthingssmart @floweringpanakes

Please let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you want to be tagged!

#kotlc #kotlc headcanon #kotlc fanfiction #keeper of the lost cities #biana vacker #dex dizznee #marella redek #linh song #tam song #stina heks #maruca endal #jensi babblos

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sebastianshaw · 4 years

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Shaw’s face is good for me to draw because he has very extreme features that are hard to get right, especially in my style. See, I learned to draw from anime as a kid, and it was all I drew. It’s all I’ve ever drawn. You can probably tell that from looking at it. And anime is NOT bad, but I want to be able to draw more realistically. Not REALISM-realism, but closer to Western comics style, because I find I use anime style as a crutch to avoid drawing more variety in noses, face shapes, emphasizing the brow and the fine lines in the face that even young people have, etc. Some anime styles certainly use these, but that’s not what I want to do. My style as it is is very...simple and stylized, and while I’d like to keep some of this, I’d like to get it, again, more realistic. And Shaw’s face is GREAT for that because it’s NOT simple. I can’t just give him a single line for the mouth, another for the nose, and add some eyes. He’s got a very complicated, very three-dimensional face in my head. His features very heavy, very prominent. Heavy brow ridge, extremely thick and large eyebrows, broad rectangular face, strong jaw and chin, and a large, slightly hooked Roman nose with a fleshy tip, like this is not a cute baby nose or a one-line anime nose, this is a nose WITH CHARACTER and it’s actually my fave part of him to draw. He’s also older so he gets some eyes around his mouth and eyes (Haven is the only other character who gets those, though hers aren’t as prominent) but they have to be JUST right so they make him look rugged and not fragile, he doesn’t age like a person but more like a mountain. It’s like, the gray hair on a silverback gorilla is an indicator of age, but that just makes it bigger and more dangerous and dominant than the younger blackbacks. Haven is my favorite character to draw because of her long floofy hair (THE BEST PART) and her big long-lashed eyes and curvy body and detailed jewelry, all of which are things I love, but Shaw is like the best one for working on more realistic faces because I have to put in more effort to give him the look I think he should have.

#art ramblings

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djinmer4 · 4 years

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Jealousy (Time Travel AU that will not be written)

“The first contestants have entered the bay! Trailing distant third is the second runner up from this year’s Alqualonde-Tol Eressea Run, but yes, Prince Makalaure is bow to bow with the winner! They’re approaching the posts!” A wild cheer came from both the Teleri on their boats and the Noldor onshore. A final gust and the two ships entered the harbor, quickly reefing sails and dropping anchors to stop themselves from plowing into the pier. The announcer looked up at Olwe to announce the winner, but the King instead gestured to the waves. From the bay, a figure rose, Eldar-shaped, green-skinned with seaweed for hair. Osse flashed a sharp-toothed grin and declared, “It’s a tie!” Another cheer went up, maybe touch quieter from the boats but more than made up by the roar of the Noldor.

Arafinwe leaned over to his older brother. “I hope you're not disappointed by your son’s performance, Feanaro.”

The older ellon continued to clap, waiting for his son to ascend to the viewing platform. “Not at all. Why should I be disappointed?”

“He didn’t win.”

Feanaro simply raised one dark eyebrow and tilted his head back, looking down his nose at the other one, despite Arafinwe being the taller of them. “He tied to your best sailing crew, despite this being a field that the Noldor are completely unfamiliar with. Just placing would have been an honor, Kano’s surpassed my expectations.”

The other simply smiled and nodded, accepting the rebuke gracefully. “He’s doing a good job in following your footsteps.”

Feanaro’s shoulders relaxed and the smile widened on his face. “It’s quite a surprise, isn’t it? Little Kano, who was so obsessed with his music, branching out to a whole multitude of fields. And he’s good at it too. He must have paid more attention to his lessons than Nerdanel and I thought . . . “

Atarinke tuned out the rest of the discussion, looking down to see that his older brother had been delayed yet again. Teleri and Noldor had flocked to his side after disembarking eager to congratulate him and be noticed in return.

Kano had changed a lot over the past quarter yen. Ever since he had broken his arm falling out of a tree while rescuing Nerwen, his older brother had gotten more somber and no longer focused solely on his music to the exclusion of everything else. From flamboyant and extroverted and justifiably prideful, he discarded his bright clothing, no longer sought to be the center of attention at every event and started studying a variety of subjects that he had never cared about before. He said it had simply been a side effect of his injury, something to keep himself from being bored while he waited for his arm to heal and couldn’t practice on his instruments. In Curvo’s opinion that made no sense. And it’s not like a broken arm had stopped Kano from singing or inventing things he could play one-handed. So he’d even asked the Healers to check if his brother had hurt his head during the fall, but all of them had said Kano was fine. (Better than fine for some of them, but he tried to ignore that part.)

Still, he couldn’t suppress a shiver as he remembered Quendingoldo’s oral defense of his thesis. The young ellon had been aiming to be a Loremaster and Makalaure had been chosen as one of the mentors for the examination. As far as anyone knew, his brother had been chosen as the ‘easy’ opponent for the potential bard. They’d never met previously, Kano had a reputation of being polite and friendly to examinees while still offering good advice and corrections, and Quendingoldo’s thesis had been a rather insipid and uninspired analysis of the changes in a rhyme used by apprentice healers to learn the basic healing herbs. It should have been a quiet and pleasant two hours.

Kano had ripped him apart. He’d identified over two dozen inaccuracies in Qendingoldo’s citations of Arda’s botany, noted that the ellon had left off all mentions of non-Noldor contributors to the field of medicine and disparaged his additions to the rhyme as clumsy and childish. The last Curvo had heard, Quendingoldo had abandoned academia entirely, deciding to return to his family’s business of pottery instead.

It was cruel when he should have been kind. It was intense when he had always been flippant before. In short, it was nothing like the brother Curvo had grown up with and he didn’t understand. And what Curvo didn’t understand, he feared.

Makalaure had finally made his way to the platform and the younger Feanorian turned his attention back to the conversation. “Well done, ionya. I think with this, we can all say that you have successfully mastered the art of sailing.”

“Thank you for the praise, Atar, but I’m not sure it’s deserved. Sailing from Alqualonde to Tol Eressea on a day when the skies are clear and water is smooth is one thing, actually sailing during foul weather and rough seas would be something else. I’ve still only a basic understanding of all the skills that go into building a ship and sailing it.”

“Nonetheless, I’m proud of you for learning skills beyond your comfort zone.”

There was a touch of red on Makalaure’s face that might have been embarrassment. Or perhaps a touch too much of Laurelin’s light. Or maybe just the exertion of captaining to the successful finish of a race. “I couldn’t have done it alone. The Teleri were generous teachers and many people contributed to the building of Last Light.” The second son of Feanor reached out and patted his brother’s head. “For example, Honadar Arafinwe, did you know that Curufinwe did all the ironworks for the ship?”

“I did not! That’s quite an accomplishment for someone who’s never been on the ocean.”

Curvo seethed behind his neutral expression. He was sure that the comment had been kindly meant, but it just brought into focus his other reason for resenting Makalaure.

Growing up Curvo had known he was his father’s favorite. While Nerdanel and Feanor made it clear that they loved all their children, it was equally obvious that they loved some more than others. Nelyo was so much like Nerdanel, how could she not love her reflection, and then the twins were the first of their kind here in Aman. And Curvo had based his confidence knowing out of all the Feanorians, he was the one most like their father. Yet now, that status was being threatened.

Makalaure had always been towards the middle of the family hierarchy with Tyelkormo. Indifferent to the physical arts, his saving grace was just how phenomenal he was as a bard and Loremaster. But after his accident, he had thrown himself into a variety of fields. He’d even taken to practicing with a variety of weapons their father had (re)produced, when before he’d ignored anything that took him away from his precious music.

What was worse is that he seemed to master them effortlessly. Oh, Nelyo was still the most diplomatic amongst them, Tyelko the best hunter and Moryo the best with figures, but Kano had gone from being either the worst or second-worst to a respectable second in all these fields. And yes, that included Curvo’s own mastery of smithing.

Oh, he was still leagues ahead of his older brother in raw skill. But from being barely able to recognize quicksilver, Makalaure was now producing better than average tools, weapons, and other paraphernalia. He didn’t bother with jewelry, but he had invented several refining techniques that had impressed their father. Add that to the fact he was already a renowned Loremaster, who like their father had invented a new way of transcribing music into a static format, and Curvo was in danger of losing his status as favorite son.

The problem was that Atarinke, despite sharing his father’s appearance and his love of the forge, despite being the only son who had given their father any grandchildren, was so very limited in his interest. He could talk about smithing, he could talk about Tyelperinquar but that was it. In fact, that was true for all the Feanorians. If Feanoro wanted to discuss politics with someone, he talked to Nelyo. Wanted to work on a carving project while pushing the boundaries of the material, he and Nerdanel would hole themselves in her studio for days. Wanted to reminisce about his mother, he’d spend time with Moryo learning the latest developments in the fields of textiles. Feanaro had all sorts of people he could discuss subjects with but rarely interacted with them outside of any one particular field. Probably the one person he shared the most interests with was Nerdanel.

That was no longer true. Makalaure didn’t share all of Feanaro’s interests, and not as many as their mother did, but they’re discussions were no longer limited to a single topic. And while their other brothers seemed to welcome him into their shared time with their father, Curufinwe found himself increasingly irritated by the praise and attention the elder was earning.

He didn’t know what to do. Feanaro was father to both of them; Kanafinwe had just as much right to spend time with him as he did. But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it seemed he couldn’t keep his father’s attention on him anymore.

Atarinke suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Nolofinwe.

#silmarillion #maglor #Curufin #time travel fix-it

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standfortheangels · 5 years

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Instructions: Always repost with the rules, answer the 11 random questions left for you, and leave 11 more for the people you tag!

Tagged by: @illicreatxm

This got long so I’m going to stick it under a read more ^^

1. If you could write any canon character, which would it be and why?

Hm. I’m not sure. I have roleplayed a couple of canons before, but I find it harder to keep the muse for them. I could probably do Elsa okay, I could jump between her locked in the castle personality and her open, welcoming character post-film, which might help, but the inconsistencies in her Over-powered Powers annoy me, so I think I’d add a few limitations in there.

2. Favourite Disney movie?

Maybe Aladdin because Robin Williams is of course amazing and so perfect in that role~ Ohh but there’s also Atlantis.. And Dumbo! Aw no... Let’s just call this my top three before I get carried away >w>

3. Least favourite MCU character?

I haven't seen the more recent ones, so, I can't take into account characters like Thanos or Dr. Strange or, whoever else they've been bringing in. So out of what I've seen, I'd have to go with Bruce Banner/The Hulk.

It seemed in the earlier films that they didn't give much attention to Banner. They were all over using the Hulk to make bits interesting, but Bruce was boiled down to "quiet smart guy who CaN TuRN inTo THE HULK" so, yeah.

And the hulk himself later did like a 180° change for me. In his stand-alone film I think Hulk says like 3 words, maximum. Then rarely talks in his appearances in the other avengers brand films. Cool. We had "Puny God" and that was a-okay. One short, memorable, funny quote seems perfect.

But then what was all that when Whedon got his hands on it? (I mean don't get me started on that, I am really reigning myself back here but) They start off needing ways to calm Hulk down enough to get him back inside and give control back to Bruce, fair enough. But then like... He winds up not letting go of Bruce's body even though he isn't enraged anyway? And suddenly he's emotional enough and smart enough to take- what was it a plane? And seperate himself off from everyone and look all solemnly at Natasha before he does it or something?

Obviously my memory of it isn't great, honestly I stopped paying attention after Natasha's "I'm a monster- not because I was raised in a heartless environment full of violence and raised to literally kill people, that bit's whatever- but because they took away my fertility and now I can't have babies." speech. And that's the last MCU film I watched. I didn't want anything to do with them after seeing what Joss Whedon did with the characters and the overarching plotline and... Everything. x') So I might have gotten some of the hulk stuff wrong.

(I did watch Deadpool though, that I enjoyed~)

4. If you had to create any new character, what occupation would they have?

Ooo good question.

I think something proactive, where they could seek other characters out, but.. I'd kinda like a bad guy~ Someone who lies so much for their job, they have a dual personality to work with. They can be your smiling friendly neighbour, wishing you well on your holiday, then turn around and grit his teeth because this poses a major problem for his mission, and he can't lose his target, so now he has to follow, but he can't do that as your happy neighbour, no, you know he isn't going on holiday, certainly not today, not on your flight, not to the same ski lodge you're going to. No, he has to make a new cover- maybe say his neice phoned him with a family emergency and he'll be leaving to go be with her a while. Then shed this identity, find out where his target is going, quickly pose as some other tourist who blends into the background and get to the lodge first, all the while planning out some plausible skiing accident he can set up.

Wow that got more detailed than I expected x'D I think I just reinvented hitman, whoops.

5. Favourite sport?

[Image ID: Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service, laughing hysterically.]

My biggest concern when I'm on my feet is not falling over so, obviously sports aren't really my deal. x')

I used to swim a lot when I was a kid, I loved that, but, don't do it now.

And I'm not really into watching sports either tbh. Most of it seems over-hyped. Most football teams (real football, it is not soccer. The hint is in actual football, the ball, is hit, with your feet. Picking it up and running with it and then sometimes kicking it does not qualify as football, come on USA. Your thing is closer to Rugby than Football.)

Anyway most teams aren't much better or worse than any other if you actually watch objectively, which makes it look like they both suck because they're too well matched to score goals more than once in a blue moon.

Rugby I don't really understand the appeal of either. Scrums are weird and it wouldn't be entirely bizarre to see a guy walking away from the game with blood down his face and an ear in his hand. You'd almost expect him to stick the ear on ice and be back in a few minutes with his bandages on.

Really the only sports than interest me are the gymnastic types. Ice skating is good for a while but it can start getting dull if you don't have people willing to break the mould a bit. (Which is why I absolutely love the free skate bit. Where they aren't being scored and they just do whatever the hell they want, omg I live for that)

Floor routines are awesome, the pommel horse and rings are usually a little samey for me but the one with those two bars at different heights, that's fun to watch~ there's a little more variety there.

(And I don't wanna hear anyone in the replies saying these aren't sports, every example there including figure skating is a separate event in the Olympics, so. There.)

6. What’s your dream car?

I don’t really have one. At this point in my life I don’t actually have the option to learn to drive so I haven’t really thought about it. My only criteria is, it has to have a nice face. x)

Since I was tiny I have always seen cars as faces. The headlights would be eyes, and usually the number plate would be the mouth, but some cars have other stuff like a grill that might be the mouth instead. So like...

This would be a grumpy car with a pig-like nose and frown.. Actually those look like jowels either side of the mouth part. It looks kind of like a bulldog. X’)

And this would be a happy car. That black part around the number plate it wide and smile-shaped, and the headlights- rounded on top and straighter on the bottom, like the little creases we get when we scrunch up our eyes laughing~

This car looks like someone just said something really stupid to it, and it is not impressed, and lets the silence hang not knowing what to say.

Happy car

Terminator car

Happy car but in a mean way.. Like it’s on its way to cause mayhem or poking fun at someone. You get the general idea -w-

7. A movie that you think should have a sequel?

Hmm... this is a toughie.

8. A movie sequel that you think should be deleted from existence?

I don’t remember which number it was or even the title, but the Shrek sequel where Shrek like, hates having kids so much he makes a deal to change time? And Fiona winds up as like a vicious warrior leader because no-one ever saved her from the tower, and rumplestiltskin is in it? What even was that...

9. Design your dream outfit using this game ?

I wouldn’t say this really is my dream outfit, but from the options on offer~

(also discounting the enormous hair bun >w>;)

10. Favourite fairytale?

I’m not sure if this actually counts as a fairytale, but I love the story of the jolly roger. That classic skull and crossbones flag has a story behind it that a lot of people don’t know.

In a nutshell, a man (i guess a pirate) develops an intense crush on a young woman, who is about to get married. But just before her wedding, she dies. She is buried, but the man doesn’t take death for an answer. He digs her up and has sex with her body. When he’s done, a disembodied voice speaks to him, telling him that he has basically impregnated this corpse, and to come back in nine months.

For some reason, he does. He digs up the woman again. And sat below her pelvis is a small skull and two bones. The disembodied voice tells him to take these bones with him on his ventures, and they will bring him luck.

It’s bizarre, and kinda gross, and.. I dunno if being rewarded for sexually desicrating a corpse is the best moral? x’) But I was amazed when I heard this story, because I’d had no idea there was this whole tale behind the flag~ and I still love that it exists~

11. Create an avatar of your favourite muse using this creator? ?

First, it’s so cruel to ask me to pick my favourite child how dare you >w> haha

I went with Chester though because he’s the one I’m usually most connected to.

I can’t think of anyone I want to tag right now (at least not anyone who hasn’t probably done this already), but I’ll put the new 11 questions for anyone who does feel like doing this~ :) __

1. What’s one thread/plot you really want to do that you haven’t had chance to yet?

2. What is the reason for, or meaning behind, your blog icon?

3. Do you have any pets? Tell us a bit about them!

4. What is one thing you would never want to change about your appearance?

5. There is an ultra secret spy group, and you’ve just uncovered their existence. Now they say that you must either work for them, or they’ll find a permanent way to keep you quiet. What kind of work would you offer to do for them?

6. If you met your muse in real life, how do you think the two of you would get along? (multi-muse blogs, pick one of your muses at random.)

7. You have been given a huge budget to remake one film in your own vision. You can change anything, add anything, choose the cast, you have no limits. What would you do?

8. What is one skill you wish you could automatically master?

9. A genie offers you a deal. An unlimited lifelong supply of one food of your choice... But, you have to sacrifice your ability to chew. Does any food still tempt you?

10. What do you think is the funniest animal?

11. Share one memory you have that makes you happy to think about~

#literally anyone can do this #and you can tag me in it too if you want #even if we've never interacted #I love reading posts like these #x)#ooc #long post #I loved the game questions on this btw!#I've never seen anyone include something like that before #it was fun!#illicreatxm

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shadeofazmeinya · 5 years

Text

Solar (5/?)

Chapter Summary:

“Let’s start with a color. What’s your favorite one?”

Gavin blinked, having not really thought of that in a long, long time. He tilted his head back, looking to the ceiling until a faint memory came to him.“Green.”

A/N: yay update! Good thing that I’m ahead on chapters cause man this past few weeks were hard. Again reblogs are really, really appreciated because tags aren’t allowing this to spread. Thank you so much!!

[AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319107/chapters/42228863

“I can’t fucking believe you haven’t been to the candy shop here,” Jeremy beams as he leads Gavin and Michael along, winding through the city. The bright sun warms their skin, the chilled breeze comforting as they pass through hurried people and reflecting buildings.

“I told you, I haven’t been here long,” Gavin laughs, shifting the few crumpled bills in his pockets, following as the boys were determined to take him on a good shopping spree.

He’s been living with them for a few weeks and Gavin’s never known what joy a simple life like this could lead. The little flower shop is quaint and gets a lot of business, which Gavin hadn’t expected. He never really thought so many people would buy so many flowers. But he likes working there, Jack is very patient in teaching him how to arrange bouquets and how to care for the plants that rest in pots. And he enjoys the work, learning from him all the different types of plants, all their names and colors. Most of his time so far has been helping Jack arrange them and wrapping neat little bows around the wrappings and pots, but he enjoys every minute.

He’s learned that Jeremy mostly works with supplies. Partially because he can easily lift the crates of pots and fertilizer that comes in, but also because he seems to enjoy the role of keeping track of all of it. He knows the name of all the delivery drivers and Gavin can hear them chatting for a while outside with each shipment.

Geoff and Michael work with the customers most often. Geoff helps the customers that come in person, while Michael claims the phone every chance he gets. Geoff is a pretty friendly bloke, even in the short time Gavin’s lived with them he’s noticed quickly that he’s a people person. With a big smile and an entertaining story always on his lips.

Michael was a bit of a surprise, Gavin picked up that he has an absolutely rancid mouth but is bloody hilarious. Especially when they play games together at night, watching Michael get more and more furious only made him funnier and funnier with the insults he pulled out of his ass. Despite all of this, he still did well with customers. At least most of the time.

Most of his time so far has been spent at the shop or the apartment, the work taking up their time until they’re eating dinner and sprawling across the couch at the end of the day. The weekends were busier too; the shop open still on Saturday, but Sunday was just for them. And recently, mostly for them to spend time getting to know Gavin.

Last Sunday was spent with Geoff and Jack, who decided to pile into the one car they all share and take him to a thrift store to get some extra pairs of clothes. Geoff insisted on it, claiming Gavin needed to not smell, but they seemed excited about it all the same.

“What kind of t-shirts do you want?” Jack had said as they roamed through the shelves of color and cotton and strange designs.

Gavin shrugged. “I don’t know? What kind of t-shirts are there?”

“It’s not exactly a wide variety. Usually just really strange graphic Ts,” Geoff hummed as he went through the pile. “Let’s start with a color. What’s your favorite one?”

Gavin blinked, having not really thought of that in a long, long time. He tilted his head back, looking to the ceiling until a faint memory came to him. “Green.”

Geoff smiled and nodded and it didn’t take too long before they were handing Gavin a pile of shirts and jeans to try on, earning a small collection of clothing for him to wear and keep. Jack would laugh every time Gavin found something ridiculous to try on and laughed even more when Gavin actually took a shine to the salmon shorts and mismatching rainbow shoes that he found concealed in the back. Geoff would comment about how fucking weird it looked, but let Gavin add it to the ‘to buy’ pile when he flashed his big eyes to him.

Gavin beamed as it was all topped off with a nice jacket. Geoff and Jack didn’t seem to think it was that great, but Gavin loved it. Even if it sat a little loosely on his frame, it gave him something warm to cut out the chill. The last item was a soft, knitted green scarf. Gavin loved it on sight as he wrapped the scarf around his neck, burying his nose into the fabric. It still smelled like the store, but it was warm. In the end, they had bought a pretty nice starting pile of clothing and shoes for him. Gavin thanked them the entire drive home as he held the plastic bags sitting all around him.

During the time he’s spent with them, and the somewhat ominous way he came to them, they didn’t pry into his history. Which made Gavin glad, as there was a lot he didn’t want to talk about. Or know where to even start. But it didn’t stop the curious glances from them every now and again. Like when Gavin didn’t know some of the video games they’d play, even ones them claimed were popular. Or when he doesn’t have any understanding of how to cook. All the little things Gavin realizes slowly he should know but doesn’t. If they’d ask, he’d just say he’s lived a sheltered life. Until then, he’ll just ignore the looks and keep learning quickly what he needs to. Hoping they never dig further.

Now, however, they were walking through the streets, big, excited smiles on their faces. The two other boys had found out the day before Gavin hadn’t visited this apparently world-renowned candy store and wanted to show Gavin everything about it.

“Jeremy will deny it, but he has the biggest sweet tooth,” Michael laughs as they finally slow, approaching a bundle of stores. “And all the chocolate here is made from scratch or something like that. It’s almost too sweet, but I’ve seen this prick eat three large bars in like a minute.”

“Hey! It was at least like five minutes,” Jeremy chuckles. “But it’s seriously good. And you need to try it, Gav.”

The store itself is small, Gavin notices first. A store like many other of the city, shoved and squished between others, buried at the bottom of the skyscrapers that loom over. It’s distinguishable still, a pastel sign with cursive writing of the name that Gavin couldn’t make out. A rainbow of lollipops and gumdrops sat in the windows, rows of more stretched out behind it. Gavin’s never seen so many sweets gathered in one spot. He doesn’t realize he stopped walking until Michael’s patting his shoulder. “It’s even better inside,” he grins.

Gavin nods, letting him lead them past the heavy doors. The bright colors hang all around them as they step in from the street, twinkling music echoing through the store. Gavin’s mouth hung open as he looked around, eyes scanning as he tries to take in every sight. He hears Jeremy laugh besides him, nudging him lightly in that careful way he is with touching people. “Chocolate section’s this way,” he points.

It isn’t hard to find, Jeremy groaning already as they glance through the assortment sprawled across the shelves. Gavin plucks a simple milk chocolate bar as Jeremy sweeps through a bunch, earning bright laughter from Michael. Gavin quirks a smile back, glancing through the rest of the store to see if there’s something else he wants to try.

As he’s looking around, something catches in the corner of his eye. A familiar color, familiar shape on someone’s clothing that makes him stiffen and mouth go dry. Blue, distinct curled letters, a swirl. A logo shaped in an orb with wind swirled inside it. An image Gavin remembers in painful flashes.

He blinks and then it is gone, the shopping crowd changing around him and he can’t spot it again. It pulls a frown from him, the feeling of ice running down his spine. He surely had gotten away. He’s hidden enough. Gavin pulls his scarf up to cover more of him, turning to stand closer to the other boys, hoping it was just a trick of his mind.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow as he looks to him, following where Gavin’s gaze had been. “You ok? Is there something we need to worry about?”

Gavin shakes his head, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. “No. It’s nothing, just thought I saw something I recognized.”

Michael narrows his eyes a moment, and Gavin dreads that he was going to ask, but he doesn’t, shrugging. “If you say so. Now, if all we’re here for is the chocolate, we ready to pay and go? We need to show you the rest of this city.”

They buy the candy, Jeremy chomping down on one of his bars as they slip back to the street. He gives an exaggerated groan, head falling back as he eats. “Fucking hell, these are so good.”

Gavin giggles, opening his as well to see what all the hype is about. And Jeremy is right, it is sweet, the flavor hitting him the second he takes a bite. The chocolate melts in his mouth and a groan escapes him as well. “These are really good, J.”

“Told ya,” Jeremy mumbles through a mouthful.

“Oh my God, if you’re both hooked on these…” Michael sighs, shaking his head.

They tour the rest of the city while they’re out and off for the day. It seems brighter when Gavin’s walking around with them from when he was hiding in alleys and digging for food to eat. They boys point out various things as they go around, parks Gavin had avoided, now filled with birds and people walking dogs, a gorgeous marble water fountain that sits off with the colder weather, and a few more common stores and restaurants the others have been to that Gavin had dug through the dumpsters behind them but never been in.

It’s another great day that shows to Gavin he’s gotten lucky to be here. The familiar symbol from the candy store is already forgotten as he grins and laughs and enjoys his new favorite sweets. His heart soars and he can’t help but feel that life is going to go right from here.

That feeling only lasts two more days.

It’s early afternoon, a quieter time in the shop, and Gavin’s sitting in the back working on tying a bow around a new tiny pot. He doesn’t look up as the bells jingle from the front door. Geoff’s the one up front after all. He greets the customers and Gavin can hear his voice coming through as he does so for whoever it is. Gavin doesn’t hear what’s said, biting his lip as he fumbles with the bow, trying to make it bend just right. But Geoff’s voice stops and another voice answers, a voice that makes Gavin’s heart stop the second it reaches his ears.

He recognizes that voice. He knows that voice, a rough voice he had thought he had gotten away from. A person he thought he was hidden from. Gavin jumps out of his chair, a need to hide, or run or something filling every sense. He presses against the wall, ducking behind where the door would open as he more of their voices start coming through.

“--should have a British accent, blonde hair, big nose, about this tall. Have you seen anyone like this?”

Gavin swallows, ice running up his spine. They are looking for him. Oh bloody hell, they’re looking for him.

“You know,” Geoff’s voice comes next and Gavin’s breath is punched out of he lungs. He can’t will his feet to move but they should. He should run. Before Geoff turns him in, before he has to go right back. Geoff would, he has no reason to keep him safe. Maybe he can get out before it’s too late-

“I don’t believe I’ve seen someone like that come in here,” Geoff finishes and Gavin stills as he needs a second to have the words repeat over in his head. “There was a British old lady a few weeks back if you mean that. Not many other British people, I would’ve noticed the accent.”

The person sighs and there’s a long moment of no more words being said where all Gavin could hear his blood in his head, chest in pain as he pants. “Alright,” the voice says, sounding disappointed, skeptical. “Well, I’m going to give you a card with a number to call if this person comes in. He’s a dangerous man, you’ll be doing a duty to others by reporting him.”

“I’ll be sure to do that should someone come in matching that description. Now, if you need help getting flowers, I can help with that too. There’s a two for one deal-”

Footsteps sound walking away and silence fills until the bell rings again and the door is closed. Gavin slumps to the ground, head thumping to the wall as his hands shake, finally air returning to him. He isn’t going back. Not right now.

He glances down and sees his hands were bright, a glow flickering in the room from cracks spread down his hands. Gavin gasps and clenches his hands together, shoving them into his pockets to dampen it. Just as some of the light decreases, the door pushes open and Geoff’s face bursts in. He spots Gavin as he’s curled to the floor and his eyes narrow.

“You need to tell me who that is and what is going on. Now.”

#solar #ragehappy #fake ah crew #fahc #freewood #superpowers au #fahc superpowers au #please let me know if you're enjoying this #im hoping the pacing of this is ok #theres a big time jump here #hope it reads well!

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thanksfornothinguselessreptile · 5 years

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A Shifting World Chapter 8: Flying in the Night

First Chapter

<–Previous

Work Summary: Things have been going great since Hiccup and Toothless have defeated the Red Death. He has his father’s approval, a group of friends his own age, and is leading the integration of dragons and the Vikings of Berk. When neighboring tribes call together a meeting to discuss rumors of Vikings riding dragons, however, Stoick decides to keep their alliance with dragons under wraps. Hiccup must decide whether he should listen to his father or seek to teach the other Vikings of the archipelago the truths about dragons.

AO3

Rating: T

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stoick, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout

Pairings: Minor Hiccup x Astrid

Chapter Summary: A confrontation with the Thunderdrum leads to Hiccup taking a leap of faith.

Chapter Warnings: Death Mention, Food

It was a struggle to remain lying down and awake until Astrid’s watch, and more than a few times Hiccup jolted awake out of a doze thanks to a warm, scaly nose prodding his ribs. But finally, he heard Astrid say something to Mulch. It must've been time for her watch, then. The deck creaked as he made his way to the front of the ship, where everyone else had set up their pallets to sleep.

Hiccup waited for a few minutes until he was sure Mulch had fallen asleep like the rest. Then he sat up, pushing the blankets off the cot. Toothless joined him the moment he did.

As he sat up, he raised a hand to greet Astrid. She glanced around at the rest of the ship and nodded. All was clear.

That concern alleviated, he made his way toward the Thunderdrum. He’d stopped thrashing and struggling shortly after their discussion. But as Hiccup moved toward him, his eyes widened and he tensed.

“Don’t worry,” Hiccup said, making sure to hold his palms out in front of him, showing the dragon that there were no weapons in them. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

He waited for Toothless to translate. The Thunderdrum narrowed his eyes in the silence following, and then responded with wary growls. Hiccup only understood the word for humans, and “not.”

Toothless turned to Hiccup. “He doesn’t like humans.”

Well, that was obvious, but Hiccup guessed that that had been the closest translation of what the Thunderdrum had said with Hiccup’s limited Dragonese.

“We want to help.” Hiccup waited for Toothless to translate that, then continued. “We know that your pod can’t help you, and you’re trying to help them. You raided our ship for its food, right?”

As Toothless relayed this, the Thunderdrum’s eyes shot open. His teeth bared, his pupils narrowed until they were barely visible against their golden backdrop. His low, soft growl managed to rattle in Hiccup’s bones.

“We can help.” Hiccup tried to express with his eyes just how much he wanted to. “I can see if I can give you some supplies to take to them. But you have to let me come with you, okay? And don’t attack the ship. Will you do this?”

The Thunderdrum dropped his gaze to the deck. A moment passed. Two.

“Yes.”

Hiccup tried to hide the pent up breath built up in his lungs rushing out all at once. Thank Thor he listened. Instead, he nodded and gave the dragon a big smile. “Just let me grab the supplies and I’ll be back.”

He left Toothless by the Thunderdrum and weaved his way through the sleeping Vikings. Thankfully, no one was sleeping on the hatch–too uncomfortable by far–so he was able to signal Astrid over to help him open it without waking anyone.

“You sure about this?” Astrid asked as she brushed hair out of her face. “That Thunderdrum might be lying to get free.”

Hiccup nodded. “Yeah, but he seems to care about feeding his pod more than fighting us. I don’t think he’ll want to cause more trouble than he has to. Besides,” he added, and forced a grin, “if he does try to attack, Toothless will be able to use plasma blasts this time.” He had not just come out from the ocean this time, and would be able to fire off at least a few shots before the Thunderdrum could make a move. And everyone knew a Night Fury never missed. At the very least, it would bruise the other dragon and wake up the sleeping Vikings, even if it meant Stoick learning what Hiccup had done.

Astrid tilted her head, her expression still uncertain. “At least let Toothless swim after you. Even if he falls behind, at least you’ll have some kind of backup if things go wrong.”

Hiccup took her hand in his. “I will. But don’t worry, Astrid. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.” He stepped back and gently released her hand. He let himself smile, faking the confidence he wished he had.

He blinked in surprise when she kissed his cheek in response.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Her voice was gruff, but she had averted her gaze off to the side, and even in the moonlight he could swear she was blushing.

Hiccup chuckled softly and raised a hand. “Hooligan’s honor.”

He ducked into the hatch before he could inevitably mess up this perfect moment. Hidden in the privacy of the ship’s dark underbelly, he took a minute to take a deep breath and steady himself before gathering everything he could without risking the voyage. Unfortunately there weren’t any fresh fish lying around–the fishing nets were there in case of emergency–but smoked and salted fish would tide over some dragons who couldn’t hunt for a while, right?

To add in variety, he made sure to grab preserved mutton, venison, and pork. Not usually staples of a Thunderdrum’s diet, but one they could eat nonetheless.

He tied it all in a damaged fishing net and hauled it up the rope ladder. He helped Astrid close the door, noticing how very hard she was trying to act casual after that kiss on his cheek.

After one last promise he’d see her soon, he hefted the net of supplies and turned toward the stern.

As he approached the dragons, Toothless smirked. He had a knowing look on his face, and Hiccup just knew that if he understood more Dragonese he would be in for the teasing of a lifetime.

“Stop it,” Hiccup said, giving Toothless’s face a gentle shove as he passed.

Toothless’s response was to mock-laugh.

Hiccup stifled his own and tried his best to look stern. “Just you wait. If you fall in love, I’ll make fun of you in front of your crush and see how you like it.”

Toothless’s eyes rolled up to the stars.

“I mean it, bud!” He wagged a finger in Toothless’s face before setting the bundle of supplies down and kneeling at the Thunderdrum’s side. “Oh, by the way, Astrid wants you to swim after us in case anything goes wrong.”

“Yes.” Toothless didn’t sound surprised; he’d probably heard Astrid say that, as relatively small as the boat was.

With that, Hiccup knelt down to untie the Thunderdrum, grappling with the knot lying beneath his stomach until he was able to unravel it. He wasted no time in grabbing the supplies and clambering on his back, making sure to avoid the spines that ran along its center.

He was hardly settled when a few wingbeats brought them up into the night sky. Within moments, the ship was hardly a speck on the horizon, visible only by a couple small lanterns.

Hiccup shifted his grip on the rope to ease the strands digging into his hands and shuffled closer toward the spines, where it was flatter and safer.

The Thunderdrum made no effort to speak to Hiccup after taking off. And Hiccup couldn’t speak Dragonese, so he could hardly start the conversation.

So they flew in silence. Well, not quite silence. The wind whipping by them, the leathery beat of wings, the breaths the Thunderdrum made every time he made a downstroke, they all filled the cold night air.

Hiccup could almost close his eyes and imagine he and Toothless were taking their nightly lap around Berk.

And that was when the sound of wings beating stopped.

Hiccup had barely registered this when the sickening sensation of falling, diving, kicked in. Only habit tightened his grip on both the dragon’s spines and the net. Both cut into his fingers, nearly enough to bleed.

His lungs lost all their air as his body hit water that felt harder than some boulders. He quickly closed his mouth, ignoring the taste of salt that burned his tongue, and ignored the water trying to force its way up his nose. His limbs flailed without him needing to tell them, trying to claw himself up to safety. His prosthetic, not built for swimming, hindered him, but still he managed to crawl his way up to the surface. Just in the nick of time, too, as his lungs finally rebelled and forced him to take a deep breath. Water that’d been trapped in his mouth went down with the air, and he choked and gagged as it made its way down his throat.

As his lungs slowly stopped their aches and complaints, Hiccup realized that his hands were empty. No dragon, no supplies.

He squinted underwater out of instinct to search for what he had dropped, but the supplies were nowhere to be found.

Instead, he saw the silhouette of a Thunderdrum-shaped dragon swimming away.

#useless reptile writes #a shifting world #finding another way series #httyd fanfiction #death mention cw #food mention cw #hiccup #astrid #hiccstrid #toothless #thornado

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shirogane-atlas · 6 years

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Ignite

The first of my inbox requests! I’m getting to these now that my deadlined events are mostly over~ This one is for @rumbarn from Feb. 2017 (I’m so sorry it took this long!)

Prompt: Really sweet fluffy falling in love klance Words: 3.3k Notes: Canon-compliant; begins in season1 and ends after season4

5 times Lance was surprised by Keith’s touch, and 1 time he wasn’t

~1~

“The only time someone should wake me up is if an intergalactic emergency is happening.” Being the blue paladin of Voltron is awesome, but Lance needs his beauty sleep. And rest. He's a growing boy who's in pretty good shape overall, but the sudden physical strength (and early mornings) expected of him since coming to space is taking its toll on his body. These days he aches in places he didn't even realize he had.

So when Keith very unnecessarily calls him out with a “We’d probably be better off fighting without you,” Lance is reasonably pissed. Bickering with his rival over breakfast, he forgets about some of the pain in his arms.

That night Lance goes to bed thoroughly exhausted. Face mask on, he lies comfortably on his back and instantly drifts off. He doesn't know how long he sleeps before Keith is there, standing by his bed, his hand warm on Lance's shoulder. He wonders vaguely if it's normal to dream about one’s rival so frequently.

I thought I told you not to wake me up, he says and wills the dream away.

Suddenly there's a hand in his that isn't familiar but feels like it should be, and he tugs it closer because the contact feels good. He's so comfortable now that he turns over, awareness of his face mask banished to the far recesses of his mind as it smears onto his pillow. If he could just stretch his leg out, that would be perfect. So he does. And his foot connects with something.

And a deadweight drops onto him with a grunt.

Not even a little bit sleepy anymore, he jolts up and shoves whoever just tried to kill him onto the floor, and when the person hurriedly stands up, Lance sees that it's…Keith.

Keith, pouting and looking very flustered, won't look at Lance. He barks out something about how they're being attacked and need Voltron and that he was sent to retrieve Lance. Then he bolts out of the room.

Lance, still sitting in bed breathing hard, registers the pressing urgency of the situation but only vaguely. Because finding Keith on top of him, as if he's materialized right out of one of Lance's most confusing dreams, is pulling heat and color into his face. And he's glad the room is dark because that means Keith probably didn't notice his blush and his messed up facemask and his bedhead.

He forgets about the facemask again and runs his hands over his face, groaning when they come back all green and creamy.

Keith has all but forbidden Lance from bringing up the ‘falling on top of him’ incident. Lance can live with that. It's hard but he can do it, making up for it by teasing Keith with other things—from his fashion sense to his hair—every chance he gets. The longer he keeps this up, the more he notices little changes in Keith. Like how he used to be all stiff around Lance after the ‘incident’ but now he's more chill. He still stands with his arms crossed and broods all the time, but he doesn't radiate hostility anymore. In fact, more than once, Lance has been at the receiving end of fond smiles from the mullet man. But this happens just as often as the scowling, so who even knows.

~2~

The blue lion crashes.

It's during a battle. Lance gets a little distracted with blasting the fighters getting too close to the castle and doesn't notice the ones closing him in from behind.

The others finish the fight without him by the time he regains consciousness. He gets back in the air only to touch down again. He's upright but his head is still swimming, and when he touches the side of his forehead, his fingers meet something warm and sticky. Good thing the battle is over and won.

Lance is still looking at the darkening red on his fingers when suddenly, Keith is out of his lion and rushing forward. He shouts Lance’s name and wraps him tight against himself, burying his own face in Lance’s neck.

Lance is too stunned to react at first, except for the heat he feels in his face, which he doubts has to do with the exertion. His arms slowly come up to return the hug. But the slightest touch from Lance jolts Keith, and he breaks away, muttering something that sounds like a very embarrassed apology, before running back to his lion.

Still stunned, Lance watches until the red lion disappears into its hangar.

The following days are especially confusing. Lance's brain replays the hug over and over again. His entire body plays along and keeps reminding him of the sensation of being held in Keith's arms. It felt so safe, and Keith's labored breath fanning against his skin felt…. Lance blushes, not wanting to give that particular feeling a name.

Meanwhile Keith avoids Lance entirely now, out of embarrassment Lance figures. The most direct effect of this is that Lance is no longer able to tease Keith to his face and has to settle for watching from afar. He watches as Keith pours himself into more training and flies off in Red sometimes to blow off steam. He gains the ability to tell when Keith is feeling down because when he is, he spends more time with the training bot than usual. He notices how Keith's nose turns up at Coran’s special lunches and how his eyes twinkle at some of Hunk’s specialties. And without meaning to he learns all of Keith's most and least favorite food goo varieties. And the moment when he realizes that he is in fact noticing all these things is Lance's undoing.

He's holed up in his room, bouncing his legs—left then right then left again—as he sits uncomfortably on the edge of his bed. He should be asleep, but how can he be? ‘Dios mio,’ he thinks to himself, not yet ready to say the words out loud, even alone in his room, ‘I like Keith…like, like like him….’

Even saying the word four times doesn't make the fact that Lance likes Keith any easier to digest. Sleep doesn't come to him that night.

~3~

Lance has had crushes before. Loads of times. He loves being in love. But this time, his crush isn't like any of his previous ones. It's a boy. And not just any boy; it's a boy he thought he hated, a boy with awful hair, a boy he's forced to cohabit a castle-cum-spaceship with. It's Keith. Keith is the boy Lance is crushing on, and it's driving him crazy. He's not sure yet if it's in a good way.

His own internal panic aside, there's another problem. Keith has been keeping his distance and, well, Lance wants to go back to the whole making fun of each other dynamic they'd had going on. Which, now that he's listening to his inner voice, might actually have been flirting this whole time. Is it possible to flirt without realizing it?

Lance's brain is a bit scattered as the team plans their trip to the Unilu trading post. Coran brings out containers of old clothes and tasks them with finding stuff that fits so he can help them put together pirate disguises.

Playing dress-up like he used to as a kid with his sisters, except now it's for a good cause? Sign Lance the heck up. He rummages through the containers, tossing too large items to Hunk and too small ones to Pidge. He pulls out another item and is just about to throw it to Pidge when he pauses. The waist would be too big on Pidge; it looks more like his own size, really. But the length…. He looks down at the container and pulls out an accompanying top. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, he stares at the blue and white clothes in his hands. He's sorely tempted. They're his size and color; he should at least try them on. He knows he can totally rock the look.

Hunk turns to him to ask for his opinion on a grotesque spiked overcoat, and Lance quickly tucks his find behind his back. “Yeah looks great Hunk,” he says carelessly. “I'm gonna go try something on,” he announces, dashing out of the room before anyone can stop him.

He puts it on in the dressing room, and boy was he right. He’s totally rocking it. He turns in front of the mirror, looking at how it brings out all his best features. with a broad grin, he steps out to show Hunk and Pidge…and runs right into Keith. When did he get here?

Keith’s face twists into an irritated grimace at being bumped into, before his eyes take in the sight before him: Lance in tiny deep blue shorts and a long-sleeved thin white top that ends just below his chest.

Keith's eyes widen comically. For a stiff moment, he stares; then his finger comes up, seemingly of its own accord, and pokes Lance's exposed belly as if to check that it’s really there. Lance lets out an embarrassing noise in surprise. He's blushing under Keith's attention, he can feel it; and as much as he's trying to hold it back, the touch, however brief, is making him smile.

Keith keenly watches it all play out on Lance's face. He looks pleasantly surprised—and encouraged—by Lance's flustered reaction. “A crop top and booty shorts? Really?” he finally says with a hint of amusement and something else in his tone. “I thought the point of the disguises was to blend in,” he adds with a smirk. “Don't know if these will cut it.”

Lance, normally a master flirt, looks away. Keith’s smug look is annoying him; it always throws him off when Keith gets like this. With a grimace, he remembers asking Keith to come untie him after the fiasco with Nyma. The memory of Keith's teasing is enough to increase Lance's internal temperature by a few degrees.

“I'm afraid Keith is right,” Coran muses, seeing Lance's outfit. “The pirates don't dress like that.”

“I just wanted to see if they would fit.” Lance shrugs and turns to go change.

“Well they fit perfectly,” he hears Keith mutter behind him and flushes all over again, hurrying out of the room.

At least he's shocked Keith into talking to him again. With a dopey smile, he puts his own clothes back on, carefully folding and keeping the eye-opening summer outfit. Just in case it…comes in handy at some point.

~4~

So Keith is Galra.

It happens so suddenly and it feels like no one has time to react properly because they're all going on their own missions. When Keith and Shiro first tell the team what they discovered at the Marmora base, Allura’s anger erupts so silently that the topic becomes an instant taboo. Keith walks around with a fallen face, doing his best to stay on task but unable to completely hide his hurt—at least from Lance’s astute gaze.

Lance wants to go up to Keith, wants to say that this doesn't change anything, that he's still their red paladin. Lance approaches him before they go off on their separate quests, and Keith stands before him, eyes lowered and head hung, posture resigned but impatient, as if he knows what's coming and just wants to get it over with.

“Just tell me I’m Galra scum and go, Lance.”

Lance's words die in his throat. Is that what Keith thinks of him? expects from him? He forgets all the words of acceptance and sympathy he had planned and reaches out in the one surefire way he knows how. “I just came to tell you to watch that mullet. I heard you’re going to fight some giant beast and get scaultrite from its stomach so you know,” he fumbles; he didn’t think this insult through. “Your dumb hair would probably get in the way,” he finishes with an attempt at his trademark shit-eating grin.

Keith looks up at him, mouthing words that won’t come out. And then, the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly. Very slowly, a mixed look of relief and fondness lights his face, and Lance is reminded of that time Keith had embraced him with such suddenness.

“Yeah and you watch your back at that prison,” says Keith, having finally found his voice again. “Don’t get blindsided by another cute girl and compromise the mission.”

“Hey!”

But Keith is chuckling now and Lance feels like this talk hasn't been a disaster after all. He cracks a smile and says, “Good luck, Samurai.”

“You too, Sharpshooter.” Keith turns toward where Hunk is waiting for him by the yellow lion.

Sharpshooter? Lance’s smile grows bigger as he takes in the nickname. He hopes it becomes a thing because he really likes the sound of that. I'll make it a thing, he decides, making his way toward Shiro and Pidge.

The jailbreak from beta-traz goes pretty well, all things considered. The bottom line is they accomplish the mission.

Team Voltron is on the cusp of putting their plan to defeat Zarkon into action. If all goes well, Zarkon and his empire of tyranny will be history once and for all.

Keith and Lance are lounging on the observation deck. It's the night before the big day. Keith was watching the stars when Lance joined him, and now they're looking out at the vast expanse of space together.

“Hey, let’s swap war stories!” Lance suggests.

Keith rolls his eyes, but Lance catches the smile that reaches those violet eyes. He motions for Lance to go first, and Lance tells him all about busting Slav out of Beta-Traz. When he gets to the yupper and how she’d basically agreed wholeheartedly that Lance was useless, Keith bursts into laughter.

“You bared your soul to a yupper?!” he wheezes.

Lance's every instinct screams at him to be embarrassed, but he can't help the giddy delight settling in his chest at having made Keith laugh so openly. Keith's eyes crinkle at the corners as tears of mirth threaten to break free.

Drawn in by the way the dim light catches Keith's eyes, Lance keeps talking. “Yeah I told her all about how I thought I was a seventh wheel, and she just said ‘yup.’”

Keith’s laughter subsides a bit, but amusement still twinkles in his eyes. He gazes at Lance’s face, then leans forward and cups his chin. “Maybe you could try baring your heart to me someday instead of to a yupper.” Then Keith leans in closer, clearly with the intent to kiss him, but giving Lance every chance to stop it. It's like he's trying to convey just how special he intends to make Lance feel with the intense look in his eyes.

Lance merely holds that gaze, losing himself in the galaxies that are mere inches away. Is this really happening? Lance tries to swallow but his throat is paralyzed.

Keith tilts his head, his eyes drop to Lance’s lips…

An alarm blares, and they jump apart. Lance's heart feels like it's about to jump out through his mouth; and judging by Keith's labored breathing, he isn't faring much better.

Apparently it's time. Zarkon is going down. Lance's first kiss will have to wait.

~5~

The empire doesn't go down. They hit Zarkon but just barely. But more importantly, they lose Shiro.

Keith isn't the same after that. They don't get to continue their interrupted night by the stars. Keith moves through the motions of being a paladin but he has a singular focus: bring Shiro back.

And Lance is there. By Keith's side. Through the lion switch that tears Keith apart, the leadership role that threatens to break him before he finally accepts it, the return of a changed Shiro. And then Keith leaves.

Blade more than paladin now apparently, Keith leaves Lance behind. Never bothering to cut the thread Lance has been hanging on since that night under the stars.

Lance is bitter. He's irritated. A little angry even. But under it all, he's hurt. Is he really the only one who thought what almost happened that night was a big deal?

So when Keith comes in wearing his Marmorite suit, blasting through the vacuum of space like only he can, and flies himself into certain death, all of Lance's anger comes to a head. Keith would have perished, erased without a trace, if not for Lotor’s perfect timing; and Lance is pissed.

He's shouting. “I hate you!” He's dragged Keith off to give him a piece of his mind but all he can get out is something that isn't even true. Something that hasn't been true for a long, long time.

Keith considers him, incredibly calm, “But I love you.”

Lance is stunned into silence. He tries to stay mad, but his heart is melting. He turns away in anger and exasperation, muttering, “I hate how you’re always so willing to sacrifice yourself. I hate how you distance yourself so easily. I hate…I hate….”

He still has his his back to Keith, but he doesn’t storm off or leave.

That seems to be all the encouragement Keith needs. He steps closer to Lance from behind, and in a low, sincere voice, repeats himself,

“I love you.”

Lance can feel Keith’s words washing over him. He can feel his resolve eroding. His shoulders start to droop; he slouches, as if physically defeated.

And somehow, Keith is there. He grips Lance’s arms, anchoring him, holding him up. Lance sinks backwards against Keith’s chest. Keith is a rock behind him, steady, unmoving, comforting.

“I hate you,” he whispers again, no bite behind the words. “I hate your stupid hotheadedness and your stupid mullet and your dumb, pretty, intense eyes.”

Against the shell of Lance’s ear, “I love your soft skin and your smug grins. I love it when you’re flustered. I love your bravery and how much you care about everyone…not just everyone but everyone individually, enough to risk your life for someone you just met. You care so much about people, Lance, and I love that. I love how much you care about…me.”

Lance is gone. Has been since the first time Keith said it. But despite himself, barely audible, “I hate you.”

“I don't believe you.”

Lance doesn't believe himself either.

He takes Keith's hands from his own arms and pulls them around his waist instead, wrapping Keith against himself in an embrace says so much more than he can right now.

Lance lies on the floor of the observation deck, a callback to that night so many quintants ago. Keith hovers above him on his elbows, leaning down to kiss Lance’s nose, cheeks, lips, pulling back to look at him after each kiss. Everything moves so slowly, gently.

Lance can’t decide whether to keep his eyes closed and savor the feeling of Keith’s chapped lips, or to keep them open so he can see the awe and intensity in Keith’s gaze. He settles for closed for now, but he doesn't know what to do with his hands either, until finally bringing them to rest on Keith’s waist. He has to resist the urge to pull, to draw Keith in closer.

Lance opens his eyes and takes in Keith’s soft expression. Feeling like the slightest movement on his part will break the magic of the moment. Lance all but holds his breath, not wanting to disturb Keith in his ministrations. His pulse quickens with every dip of Keith’s head; a sigh escapes him with every touch of Keith’s lips. Keith's touch leaves life in its wake. His fingers ignite little fires as they move across Lance’s skin.

“I love you.” He says it because it's true. And because Keith isn't pulling away anymore. And because they're still at war but now they have each other.

“I love you too, Lance.”

#klance #klance fanfic #klance fic #klance fluff #sleapywrites #inbox requests #as a side note if you see this and decide to send me a request I will certainly try to do it but it may take me a VERY VERY long time #this one took me almost an entire year so go figure *nervous laughter*

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exactlydeafeningdeer · 3 years

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Best Wine Glasses of 2020

As if learning the vocabulary, geography, and producers in the wine world isn’t challenging enough, there are also different types of glassware—and figuring out the best wine glasses is no small feat. In the last couple of decades, glass manufacturers have made a killing off of creating dozens of glassware lines and convincing wine drinkers we need multiple types of glasses to be serious about wine. Although the glassware section of my book, Wine for Normal People, wound up on the cutting room floor, this is a topic my podcast listeners love to ask about and one I was excited to reexamine.

I guess we should start with the most important question: Does a glass really make a difference to a wine’s taste? After copious research and testing, I can tell you that glassware does matter to your enjoyment of wine. Certain glass shapes and materials do enhance wine’s aroma and flavor—and some even detract from it! I tested several highly regarded wine glasses and found the best premium, mid-tier, and affordable options for all kinds of wine drinkers.

Ahead, discover all the winners and a thorough breakdown of our testing methods. We’ve also included a primer on the merits of different liquor glass shapes.

Zalto is widely considered the gold standard of glassware by wine connoisseurs and professionals alike. It is made of mouth blown, nonleaded crystal; it’s incredibly light; and it’s shaped like a piece of art. It’s beyond fragile and using this glass is a bit unnerving, but in test after test with wine after wine, it not only allowed the wine to express itself, but in many cases it made the wine taste better than all the other glasses.

From white and red Burgundy to white and red Bordeaux, Italian white to California rosé, Chilean Pinot Noir to Spanish Rioja, the Zalto glass improved the naturally occurring aromas and flavors of each wine effortlessly. But to go a step further, the amazing thing about the Zalto is that it seems to elevate the wine’s subtleties and nuances, introducing new or stronger positive aromas and flavors that the other glasses don’t. For instance, you may get notes of an old medieval church incense and black pepper in a northern Rhône Syrah with the Zalto, but just an herbal note from other glasses (I know it’s crazy but it’s true).

The experience of swirling with Zalto is unlike any other—the lightweight construction and virtually spill-proof bowl (it tapers significantly) made for the most effortless spin, allowing for great aeration and giving it huge points for ease of use. The tapering at the top made every wine’s aromas shine so completely, to the point where the wines felt actually transformed and seemed to transcend themselves.

Although this is technically a Burgundy glass, I found that it improved a variety of wines almost universally. In a lineup of 10 glasses, even done blindfolded, this glass over-performed on experience, flavor, aroma, and comfort. Although the delicate quality of these glasses had me a bit stressed with each use and especially each (hand) wash, it wasn’t enough to deter me from grabbing it over every other glass, every night. It is, despite its fragility, the undisputed best wine glass you can get for your wine.

Because it is so expensive, we recommend just the Burgundy glass as the one you need, but if you have some extra change lying around and drink white wine, pick up those too.

Okay, so, it’s no Zalto, but the Riedel Veritas is half the cost and was a consistent runner-up in test after test. This glass is still fragile thanks to a spindly stem the company has become known for, but the leaded crystal has a slightly sturdier construction than the Zalto while still boasting a narrow rim that feels luxurious and comfortable for sipping.

The Pinot Noir glass did equally well with red Burgundy, Nebbiolo, Bordeaux and more tannic reds. Fuller whites were even slightly better in this one than in the Zalto. The white wine glass enhances the aromas of German Riesling, Italian whites like Fiano, and New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

The Veritas does exactly what a great glass should do: allow ample swirling room and enhance the wine’s natural characteristics for both the white glass and the red. The difference between this and the Zalto, for reds specifically, is that the Veritas doesn’t add the nuance and subtleties the Zalto does. It doesn’t improve the wine or allow the more intricate notes to come out. But what it lacks in whatever magic of the Zalto is, it makes up for in affordability and the fact that this glass is less nerve-racking to drink from. That said, Riedel claims these are dishwasher-safe, but unless you plan to make these stemless glasses (My take on that below!), the stem is imminently breakable. These have to be hand-washed.

This little glass (the company is owned by Riedel now, though it was once their biggest competition!) outperformed much more expensive glasses with its thin lip, excellent bowl for swirling, and ability to concentrate aromas. The red and white glasses are thin, but felt sturdy enough that I never worried about breaking them. They go into the dishwasher and come out in one piece. For the money, these glasses are the little engine that could. They came in third or fourth place in tasting every single wine—from Nebbiolo to Malbec, Chardonnay to Grüner Veltliner. This is an elegant everyday glass and it blows away its competitors (Schott-Zwiesel, Stozle, Libbey, and the more expensive Gabriel-Glas). I will warn that although the white glass is spectacular, it is quite small in comparison to the Burgundy glass. It works great, but it can be surprising when you open it, especially in comparison to the ample size of the brandy glass.

You don’t need a glass for every region or grape but depending on what and how you drink, there are four standard glass shapes you should consider. The combination of these shapes plus the cost, fragility, washability, and comfort in holding and drinking will be the keys to getting the best wine glass for you.

The White Wine Glass

Shaped like a tulip, this glass has a round bowl and goes straight up before tapering slightly at the top. The bottom of the glass allows you to swirl without spilling, but the real magic of a white wine glass is that it concentrates aromas of the wine at the rim and traps them slightly so we can sniff the (hopefully) delicious things the wine has to offer.

The standard white glass is a bit smaller than the red: Because whites don’t need as much aeration (swirling), they’re smaller. Also, whites are almost always served colder than reds. Pouring smaller quantities into the glass will ensure that what you have in the glass always stays at a cool temperature. This Vodka glass type will work for almost all white wines, except for fuller whites like oaked Chardonnay and white blends from the Rhône Valley, for example.

Shaped a bit like an upside-down mushroom, these glasses have wide bowls and then taper at the top to a narrow rim. The huge bowl allows for tons of swirling. With reds and the fuller whites, you want to introduce a lot of air into the wine. The swirling motion jostles the esters and aldehydes in wines, which are the things that make the juice smell so good. In very aromatic but less mouth-drying tannic reds, you want to concentrate the aromas at the rim of the glass to maximize the intensity of smell compounds your nose can sense. The wider base allows room to swirl (you should never fill these glasses above the bulge in the glass or it’s spill city), but the top ensures that delicate aromas of red Burgundy (Pinot Noir), Beaujolais (Gamay), or Nebbiolo, for instance, aren’t lost.

The Bordeaux Glass

This is a giant version of the tulip shape we find in the white wine glass, although it tapers less at the top. The relatively straight sides of this glass and large bowl allow air to penetrate before, during, and after swirling, allowing harsh tannins to dance with the oxygen and soften up—exactly what you need to enjoy a Cabernet Sauvignon, a Bordeaux blend, a Rioja from Spain, or a Syrah from the northern Rhône of France.

The Champagne Flute

This is actually quite a controversial opinion among wine snobs: Flutes are festive, fun, and they do, in fact, help keep the sparkle in your glass for longer. There are some practical issues with these party-perfect glasses: Unless you drink sparkling wine a lot, they tend to gather dust; if you have a beak like mine, that can be an issue for drinking; and—the dork argument—they have no room for swirling. Nevertheless, I love enjoying sparkling out of them and I drink enough of it to have them around. Still, they are optional. A white wine glass works just as well.

What About Universal Wine Glasses?

Try as they might, over and over again, the universal glass always makes one wine or another a loser. They are too narrow for tannic reds and sometimes don’t aerate the wine as much as they should. They are too wide and open for aromatic reds or delicate whites (although they are better for whites than reds most of the time). Regardless of how high-quality the glass, the shape matters too much for these glasses to work for all wine types. My advice: Buy a set of whites and reds (I think Burgundy glasses are more useful than Bordeaux) and leave the universals to people who didn’t read this article.

What About Stemless Wine Glasses?

We did not include any stemless glasses in our tests of the best red wine glass simply because we do not feel they belong in that elevated tier. Because there is no stem, the drinker holds the bowl of the glass in their hand—and that direct contact can possibly increase the temperature of the wine, and that increase in temperature can mess up the flavor of the wine.

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feelineuphoric · 3 years

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Rio 2016 Olympics: Artistic Swimming, A Review

Synchronized Swimming used to be known as 'water ballet'. This is because the routines are essentially a series of athletic movements choreographed to a piece of chosen music. Not unlike staged ballet, except that it is performed in the water. Synchronized Swimming is highly challenging, requiring ease of movements and the ability to stay upside down in water. it is said to be as hard to practice as it is beautiful to watch. A test even for strong swimmers, the sport requires advanced water skills, strength, flexibility, endurance, grace, precise timing, artistry, and exceptional breath control.

In this blog, I will be reviewing the court dimensions, equipment, basic skills, technical and tactical skills of each team, rules of the game, and how to officiate artistic swimming in the 2016 Olympics, officially known as the Games of the XXXI Olympiad and commonly known as Rio 2016, was an international multi-sport event held from the 5th to the 21st of August 2016 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

COURT DIMENSIONS

The pool must be at least 20m wide x 30m long, and at least 2.5m deep. One area, 12x12m or larger, must be at least 3m deep and the slope between the change in depths has to be completed over a distance of 8m or less.

The pool's water must be clear enough so that the bottom of the pool is visible from above and at least 27°C (80.6°F,) plus or minus one degree. The amount of light underwater is also very important, since goggles aren't worn in competition, so there is a required minimum brightness of 1500 lux.

EQUIPMENT

Hair gel or gelatin

Nose Clip

Underwater Speaker

Costume

BASIC SKILLS

The basic skills you will need in synchronized swimming is sculling and treading water with a kick called the "eggbeater". There are also many positions that you can learn to combine into a routine. Additionally, there is an element known as “lifts” in synchronized swimming, where swimmers create a structure of sorts with their bodies and lift themselves from the water in the same formation they created underwater.

Sculls

Sculls are hand movements used to propel the body and are essential to synchronized swimming. Some commonly used sculls are support, standard, torpedo, split-arm, barrel and paddle scull. The support scull is most often used and is made up of two repeated movements. You need to hold your upper arms against your body and your forearms at 90-degree angles. Then, you move your forearms back and forth to create enough water pressure to hold your legs above the water.

Eggbeater

This move is much like how a manual eggbeater works, with one leg rotating in a clockwise manner and rotating the other leg in an anti-clockwise manner. Synchronized swimmers use this kick because it leaves their hands free to perform strokes. Due to the opposite motion of the kick, it is a stable and efficient way for swimmers to attain the necessary height to perform moves above the water.

Positions

There are hundreds of positions that can be used to create infinite combinations. The six most common positions are illustrated below.

Crane Position - Hold your body in a vertical position with one leg held vertically above the water surface, while the other leg is held parallel under the surface in a 90-degree angle or "L" shape.

Ballet Leg Double Position - From lying flat on the water surface, draw your knees towards your chest with shins parallel to the water surface. Straighten your legs above the water surface to assume a Surface Ballet Leg Double position.

Side Fishtail Position - This is a position similar to the crane. One leg remains vertical, while the other is extended to the side parallel to the water, creating a side "Y" position.

Knight Position -The body is held vertically with your head in line with the hips and pointed to the bottom of the pool. One leg is lowered to create a vertical line perpendicular to the surface.

Flamingo Position - Similar to the ballet leg position where the bottom leg is pulled into the chest so that the shin of the bottom leg is touching the knee of the vertical leg.

Split Position - With the body vertical, one leg is stretched forward along the surface and the other leg is extended back along the surface.

Lifts

Lifts are formations that are formed underwater and as swimmers propel themselves towards the surface, they stay in formation and add more elements like acrobatics. There are three parts to a lift in synchronized swimming: The Flyer, the Base and the Pushers.

The Flyer - Flyers are agile and flexible and are usually the smallest member of the team. It is preferable that they have a gymnastics background as they need to perform complicated moves while on the top of the formation.

The Base - Base swimmers tends to be small in size, but should have good leg strength and a solid core as they make up the structure of the formation.

The Pushers - Pushers are the bigger and stronger swimmers because they need the strength to propel the formation to the water surface.

Types of Lifts

The Platform Lift - The base lays out in a back layout position underwater, where they lie on their back to form a platform of interlinked bodies. The Flyer sets in a squatting position and stands once the lift reaches the surface. The remaining teammates use the eggbeater kicks to hold the platform and the flyer out of the water.

The Stack Lift - Considered to be an updated version of the Platform, the Stack Lift begins with the base squatting while underwater, supported by the pushers. The flyer then stands on the shoulders of the base. The pushers and base gradually stretch out their limbs, elevating the flyer. A rotating descent is usually added to this lift.

TECHNICAL AND TACTICA; SKILLS OF EACH TEAM

EGYPT

Execution: 23.5000; Artistic Expression: 31.4667; Difficulty: 23.6000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 76. 9838; Free Routine: 78.5667 Total Score: 155.5505

They were the first performer and at first I wasn’t sure whether or not I will be enjoying while watching the video but their intro stunned me. It was my first time watching synchronized swimming and I did not know they would walk in sync and dive in different times and their dive was very beautiful. They did uniquely beautiful lifts while executing various leg choreographies and positions.

AUSTRALIA

Execution: 22.6000; Artistic Expression: 20.1333; Difficulty: 22.7000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 74.0667; Free Routine: 75.4333 Total Score: 149.50

Their synchronization and timing is very nice. Their performance was unique and it was a fun routine. I was amazed by their hand movements in their choreography because it was very fun to look at. From what I’ve seen they used a variety of sculls in order for them to perform the different kinds of positions such as the flamingo position and the split position.

ITALY

Execution: 27.5000; Artistic Expression: 37.0667; Difficulty: 27.7000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 91.1142; Free Routine: 92.2667 Total Score: 183.3809

With their theme which was seasons of earth, I was amazed by how elegant, and sweet their performance were. It was almost like a fairytale. They were able to maintained balance, fantastic synchronization, and unique formation of lifts. Their synchronization was very intense especially during their feet formations in their choreography. I was awed by all of their fantastic formations.

BRAZIL

Execution: 26.1000; Artistic Expression: 34.8000; Difficulty: 26.3000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 84.7985; Free Routine: 87.2000 Total Score: 171.9985

When the song started, I was kind of hesitant in watching their routine because I thought it wouldn’t be as good as the ones that have finished performing. However, I was in awe by their excitingly fun choreography which was a good epitome of carnival. Very smooth and excellent synchronization, very artistic. I love their facial expression and their formation are also very excellent accompanied by the song. I love the spins after they do the knight position during their formations. I love the hand choreography they did from 30:07- 30:36. Their handwork in practicing their choreography really paid off because they look so great underwater as they unfold the next move from another. I love how they look like they are having so much fun they don’t even look fatigued but watching them they stole my breath away by how difficult and fun their routine was. Their routine lived up to their theme of carnival. They executed all the moves well, a lot of spirit and energy, and the high-risk of balance from the lifts especially in the part of Christo! shout of the song. Very charismatic.

RUSIAN FEDERATION

Execution: 29.7000; Artistic Expression: 39.7333; Difficulty: 29.7000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 97.0106; Free Routine: 99.1333 Total Score: 196.1439

Their theme was angels and when I heard the intro of the song it sounded so intense and when they started off with an opening lift well...it was very incredible that watching the recap, there wasn’t any mistakes and their lifts are difficult but stunning to watch. Their synchronization is perfect, energy and explosive power of moves is so incredible. The song was a bit suspenseful, and their moves perfectly accompanied it. Their formation is brilliant and unique. I love their lifts and how the girl that was lifted turned beautifully as she descends to the water at 37: 18. Even their work underneath the water is beautifully synchronized. I love their facial expressions too during their beautiful lifts. No wonder they won gold medals.

UKRAINE

Execution: 28.2000; Artistic Expression: 38.2667; Difficulty: 28.7000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 93.4413; Free Routine: 95.1667 Total Score: 188.608

Right from the start, they immediately showed difficult routines, and when they showed their underwater movements, they were all so synchronized when they do hand movements to propel their bodies in order to execute leg positions for their routine. I love the shapes they showed. The actions they show require high risk but I love how it looked. They performed intense and risky moves and they do it fast too but they are good at it so the outcome of their movements are breath-taking.

CHINA

Execution: 29.1000; Artistic Expression: 39.0667; Difficulty: 29.2000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 95.6174; Free Routine: 97.3667 Total Score: 192.9841

From their intro pose, they are already showcasing their flexibility as their theme is finding dragon. The power of the lift right from the start was very beautiful and high, the pushers and the base must’ve worked so hard with it in order for their flyer to be able to execute it so perfectly. They performed complicated moves afterwards which was so fascinating to see. Their synchronization is very powerful, and the way they interpreted their theme by using lifts was very great to see. They quickly change formation and then perform uniquely amazing choreographies with very beautiful twists. Their formation is just absolutely beautiful. The way they matched their legs movement with the intense music was so amazing at 54:01 onwards. No doubt they deserve the silver medals.

JAPAN

Execution: 28.5000; Artistic Expression: 38.1333; Difficulty: 28.8000; Penalty: 0.0; Technical Routine: 93.7723; Free Routine: 95.4333 Total Score: 199.2056

Right from the start they immediately performed two lifts which was very beautiful. The formation was very artistic and they performed it cleanly. They also performed a fun choreography and I was completely absorbed by their music because it sounded both cute and fun. The lifts are just beautiful especially when they end it with turns.

RULES OF THE GAME

No Touching the Bottom

One of the things which makes the lifts all the more impressive is that artistic swimmers are not allowed to touch the bottom of the pool at any point during their routines.

No Bling

Presentation is a unique and important part of artistic swimming but there are certain restrictions on what swimmers can wear. For example, artistic swimmers are not permitted jewelry, theatrical make-up, or inappropriate costumes.

No Goggles

Another restriction during artistic swimming routines is goggles. However, swimmers in figures competitions are permitted to wear them.

Team Means Team

Teams normally contain eight swimmers, but the minimum number for a team is four. Teams lose marks for every swimmer they have under the full complement because it is easier to synchronize the fewer people there are in a routine.

Stick to The Schedule

Routines can be anything from two and a half minutes to five minutes long, depending on whether they are performed alone or as part of a team. However, swimmers are penalized if they take 15 seconds fewer or longer than the specified time.

HOW TO OFFICIATE THE GAME

Timekeeper

The role of a timekeeper is to check, and record, the overall times of the routines and of the deck movements. If the time limit for the deck work is exceeded or there is a deviation from the permitted routine time allowance, the timekeeper advises the referee.

Clerk of the course

The role of a clerk of the course is to organize the competitors so that they are ready for their events at the required time. During figure competitions, they ensure that the swimmers are in the correct order to perform their figures.

Scorer

The role of a synchro scorer is to record marks from the judges and make the necessary computations for each routine. There are two levels of synchro scorer – national scorer and chief recorder.

National scorers write down and manipulate all the scores that come in for figures and routines at competitions. They can officiate at any level of domestic competition including the National Age Group Championships and ASA National Championships.

Chief recorders are in charge of scoring at synchronized swimming events. They are trained to manage related computer results systems at national and regional competitions.

Judge

Synchro Judges are essential for running synchronized swimming competitions as they provide scores based on the performance of each routine. They are also responsible for marking grade level assessments. To reduce the level of subjectivity in scoring, all synchro judges must be expertly-trained. They require a full understanding of FINA and the ASA’s rules and regulations for synchronized swimming competitions.

There are three levels of Judge:

Level 1: Candidates must be 16 years old to take the level 1 judge course. They will be qualified to judge at level 1 and 2 competitions. The course includes:

Use of marking scales

Develop understanding of basic movements and positions

Able to identify Figures in current age groups (12U and 13/14/15)

Ethics

Develop knowledge and understanding of Free Routines

Knowledge of Grade 1 and 2 criteria and assessment criteria

Level 2: Candidates must have been a level 1 judge for at least a year. They will be qualified to judge at regional competitions at the National Age Group Championships. The course includes:

In-depth knowledge of Junior Figures (15-18 years)

Develop knowledge of rules and penalties

Develop knowledge of NVT, difficulty values and application to figures. Application of deductions to figures

Exposure to variety of level of figures and scores

Knowledge and awareness of Grade 3/4/5 criteria

Further analysis of Free Routines – range of level of routines, recognition of difficulty

Level 3: Candidates must have been a level 2 judge for at least a year. They will be qualified to judge at the National Championships. The course includes:

Further knowledge about rules, penalties and organization

In-depth knowledge about judging Figures and component parts

Further develop knowledge and aptitude regarding judging Free Routines

Awareness of Grade 6 criteria

In-depth knowledge of technical elements across solos, duets and team

Referee

The role of a synchro referee is to oversee the control of a synchronized swimming competition. The referee makes sure all aspects of the event are run smoothly and follow FINA rules.

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Bibliography

An Introduction to Artistic Swimming. (n.d.). Retrieved from Swim England Artistic Swimming: https://www.swimming.org/artistic-swimming/introduction-to-artistic-swimming/

Basic skills and positions in Synchronised Swimming. (n.d.). Retrieved from Active SG: https://www.myactivesg.com/Sports/Aquatics/How-To-Play/Synchronised-Swimming/Basic-skills-and-positions-in-Synchronised-Swimming#:~:text=The%20basic%20skills%20you%20will,to%20combine%20into%20a%20routine.

Lutz, R. (2016, July 22). Synchronized swimming 101: Equipment. Retrieved from Archive PyeongChang: http://archivepyc.nbcolympics.com/news/synchronized-swimming-101-equipment

Officials in synchro. (n.d.). Retrieved from Edinburgh Synchro: http://edinburghsynchro.co.uk/officials-in-synchro/

Synchronized Swimming Pool Dimensions. (n.d.). Retrieved from SwimOutlet.com Guides: https://www.swimoutlet.com/guides/synchronized-swimming-pool-dimensions#:~:text=The%20pool%20must%20be%20at%20least%2020m%20wide%20x%2030m,distance%20of%208m%20or%20less.

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