#I WAS SUPPOSED TO USE GRAPHITE NOT CHARCOAL FUCKING GOD

[brainrot-yumm]

currently completely livid that this fucking art piece isn’t done yet. It’s due by noon tomorrow and I still need to color in the entire fucking background. I’ve been working on this for literally over 20 hours and there’s still a full candle uncolored. I want to die.

#Charcoal in general is really fun to use but when you spend 7+ hours on the lineart you start to really get over it #This is a traditional #FUCK #FUCK ME I HATE EVERYTHING #I WAS SUPPOSED TO USE GRAPHITE NOT CHARCOAL FUCKING GOD #I JUST LOOKED JUST NOW AFTER 20+ HOURS OF THIS STUPID PIECE #This teacher better give me extra points for charcoal cause I'm Not turning this in finished jebus christ #I still have to write 2 and a half essays due tomorrow at midnight I DON"T want to be dealing with fucking semantics right now

[softbiker]

A Familiar Place - Part 2

Warnings: a bad word or two, literally zero editing 

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Not sure if I’m satisfied with this, but posting to celebrate hitting 200 followers!! Thanks for being here, I love you all! As always, let me know what you think :) 

This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.

“Okay, I’m 100% sure it’s not supposed to look like that.”

“Shut up, bird brain.”

“Will you two stop it I can’t hear the instructor.”

Three soldiers exchange glares behind their easels, brushes poised over canvas. Their stools are set in the back of the class, clustered close together so they can peek over each others shoulders. Other easels are arranged  in semi-circle rows towards the front of the classroom, with the instructor at the epicenter, walking back and forth and making comments to the students. To her credit, she tries to ignore the fussing commentary from the back of the room, only sparing them a glance every once in a while.

An oil painting class. Painting was never Steve’s strong suit - he prefers pencils and charcoal, quick messy sketches under his flurried fingers, captured on the spur of the moment. Bucky faintly remembers a smaller, softer Steve, the graphite on his hands, the smudges that covered his nose. Pencil fixed behind his ear, where Bucky would have placed a cigarette. But when they came here, settled into their place in Bed-Stuy, Steve decided to try out something new. And today he invited Sam and Bucky to join him.

Steve takes easily to new mediums, whatever his protests about not being a “natural” painter. Sam has no idea what he’s doing, but Bucky knows that has never stopped him from having a good time.

Bucky, though.

Bucky feels nervous each time he dips his brush, blends his paints. He feels somehow wasteful, putting his own brush to the canvas. Hand him a knife, a gun, hell - even one of Stark’s high-tech weapons, and he’s steady. A deadshot. But a paintbrush? He doubts every stroke and line. Without a talent like Steve’s, he thinks, this canvas would be better off with someone else.

But Steve is having a good time and he hates to ruin that, so Bucky quietly frowns at his canvas, tongue poking between his lips. Today’s class is a still life, their reference a pale blue vase of flowers on a table in the center of the room. Steve has rendered it beautifully, even captured the soft lighting from the windows on the west wall of the room. Sam’s attempt is passable, for someone with no training at all in studio art.

It isn’t that Bucky doesn’t have some skill, or proficiency, or artistic eye. He remembers sitting through a couple of figure drawing classes with Steve - he managed to learn a thing or two, when he wasn’t winking at the models. And his work isn’t bad, he knows that, but -

Well. He doesn’t think it’s worth making.

**********

He keeps coming to the class for a few weeks, when Steve’s schedule is free from missions and meetings, of course. They sit near the back of the room and Bucky makes good attempts but he’s not really sure if he’s making art.

“You know, I’m really not sure if oils are your medium.”

The class is over, and the instructor stands at Bucky’s elbow, looking at the row of paintings laid along the shelf to dry. Bucky had been comparing his work to his classmates, thinking pretty much the same thing.

“Not that you don’t have a hand for painting,” the instructor continues, hands slipping into the pockets of her overalls. “But I think you’re letting it intimidate you - you put too much pressure on yourself and then you hesitate. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky shrugs. “I guess.” The instructor laughed a little, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“See? You hesitated to tell me that you hesitate.” She was shaking her head with a not unkind smile.

“Jeez - you have a side gig as a therapist?”

“Nope - just good at seeing people.”

Bucky shifted his feet, not used to the feeling of being closely observed - it definitely wasn’t something he liked. Seeming to sense this, the instructor took a step back, shrugging her shoulders and looking away from him.

“Look, you should keep coming,” she offered. “You have some talent, that’s for sure. But you can try other things. Doesn’t have to be oil paint and flowers. What do you want to make?”

Steve is waiting outside the classroom, reading the bulletin board in the hallway. Fluorescent-colored flyers litter the board, interspersed with lost pet ads, ride shares, roommate offers, and piano lessons. Steve fingers one, tears off the number for an Asian cooking class, and tucks the slip of paper in his jacket pocket. He turns when he hears Bucky’s footsteps, that classic smile curling up his mouth.

“You, ready?”

“Yep.”

They take the subway back, dutifully ignoring the raised eyebrows and cell phones that turn their way. It’s New York - sooner or later people get over it. Bucky’s metal hand is wrapped loosely around a pole that Steve leans against, supersoldier strength and balance making him barely shift as the train speeds and slows.

“Sam is supposed to get back from that recon op this afternoon,” Steve says, his voice low enough keep their conversation private. “He’ll probably want takeout for dinner.”

Bucky nods. “He always does, after a mission. Milks it for all he’s worth, so we have to get his favorite - I bet he’ll want fried rice from that Thai place, and we better make sure there’s cold beer in the fridge.”

Steve just smiles, glances down at his sneakers, shifts his feet a little. He’ll never say a word, a single goddamn word, about how much Bucky and Sam pay attention to each other. About Bucky remembering Sam’s takeout order from every single one of their usual places; about Sam bringing home new exotic fruits from the health food market so Bucky could try things that weren’t available back in the day. He will never breathe a single word about how Bucky took Sam’s laundry and scrubbed the blood out after that mission in Denver went bad, or Sam driving back and forth to Bucky’s therapy appointments, in spite of the distance.

Loose lips, Rogers. Nope. His are sealed.

**********

“If I didn’t know any better, I would honest to God think that Stark didn’t respect me,” Sam shakes his head, shovelling rounded lumps of rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. His cheeks are comically full, but he continues to talk. “I mean, the guy really asked if I needed air support. Me? Baby, I am air support.”

Steve makes a noise of assent around a mouthful of noodles that he continues to slurp into his mouth. Bucky says nothing, but smiles into his egg roll. The coffee table in front of them is littered with takeout boxes, some still full, some already emptied. Steve and Bucky have already finished 2 beers each - Sam is drinking at a slower pace so he can continue to talk.

“I fucking invented air support. Pssh.” Sam rolls his eyes, settling back against the cushions of the couch and pulling his standard blanket over his lap.

The TV is set to a sports channel, a college basketball game they’re not too invested in carrying on in the background. Sam talks and talks, the other two barely getting a word in, but that’s alright - he always needs this, after a mission. Sam has to get it all out, decompress, debrief, de-everything in that post-victory rush of adrenaline he’s still high on when he comes home. They let him - they sit around in their sweatpants and half-watch a ballgame and shoot the shit over beers and Thai, and let Sam come back to himself.

“So,” Sam sighs, sipping his beer. “What’d you old farts get up to while I was gone, huh?”

“Mm, not much.” Steve’s reply is muffled as he continues to inhale his noodles. “Art class. Running.”

“Getting some goddamn peace and quiet,” Bucky pipes up, crumpling up the now empty egg roll bag and reaching for a full styrofoam container of steaming fried rice.

“Ha ha.” Sam doesn’t even look up from his food. “Y’all know it’s boring as hell around here without me. And who else is gonna help you two to meet some females? Hm? You think people are lining up to wingman for your hundred-year-old asses? No way!”

“What would we do without you, Sam?” Steve asks, that ironic twist to his mouth that Bucky has known all his life.

“You’d be star-spangled roadkill, I can tell you that much.”

They laugh and settle, eyes passing over the ballgame as one of the teams lines up for a free throw. It’s just the three of them in their little place, but it feels full. It’s enough. It’s home.

**********

Over the next few weeks, Bucky takes the painting instructor’s advice.

He rolls out huge canvases on the floor and slings paint in random patterns, layers of splatter until he feels like his eyes have crossed. The freedom, the lack of pressure, the fun of throwing paint around like a child - all of that he likes, but still.

“Still not sure if it’s my thing,” he tells Steve, as they look at his finished piece propped up against the wall. Steve nods, lips pursed.

“Well, we could hang it up at the compound. Tony keeps talking about needing more art around that place.”

Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“I’m not five, Steve. You don’t have to hang my scribbles on the fridge.”

He goes back to the studio and slings pots - pots and vases and key bowls and jewelry dishes and mugs. They’re passable, usable, functional - these are the words he thinks of when he glazes them in soft blue and yellow shades. Bucky likes the feel of it under his fingers, the wet firmness of the clay that yields to his hands. He’s gotten little bits of dried clay between the metal plates of his arm, but he doesn’t mind - he’s learned they’re easy enough to dislodge with a toothbrush. He gives away or takes home all of his little projects, happy to see them used.

Sam gifts him with a polaroid camera he found going through some of his parents things, and Bucky fiddles with it until he’s quite good at taking pictures. Whenever they go out he has his camera slung around his neck, an extra packet of film and a flashbar in his backpack. He has dozens of photos now - photos of Steve sipping coffee and flipping off the camera. Photos of Sam and Rhodey laughing, in full gear, when the team had drinks at the compound last month. A few photos of Natasha and Wanda, who come over to the brownstone sometimes - Natasha’s legs are folded over the end of the couch, while Wanda gets a piggyback ride from Steve. He tacks the pictures up, covering nearly half of the wall of his bedroom, not caring about the holes he leaves in the drywall.

It’s Wanda who introduces him to knitting, one weekend when both Steve and Sam get called out on a potential terror situation in London. There’s a rule - unspoken, unwritten - among Steve’s friends that someone comes to check on Bucky whenever they have to leave him alone. He doesn’t protest, knowing that they do it out of kindness and loyalty to Steve; he knows all about being loyal to Steve.

Wanda sits cross-legged on the couch, her fingers working the knitting needles at a hypnotic pace. He likes Wanda; she’s quiet and sensitive, all soft smiles and knowing eyes. A room always feels calmer with her in it. She had used his hands earlier to loop the yarn, and now he watches her over the top of his book, which he has all but abandoned.

When he asks her about the knitting, if she can show him, she looks up. Soft smiles and knowing eyes.

Bucky has always been good with his hands, so no one is surprised that he’s good at knitting. Eventually, they all have something he’s made: a beanie for Sam, a scarf for Steve, fingerless gloves for Wanda, and blankets galore for their too-cold brownstone.

**********

It fills up his time, somehow.

Bucky makes drawings, and paintings, and little origami birds out of grocery receipts. He makes bowls he can give to his friends and pictures that he can keep and blankets that he can share. He scours google and breaks a few (literal) eggs and makes banana bread that fills the brownstone with a smell that he could float on. He makes pancakes and poems and -

Bucky makes.

On the subway with Steve - a figure drawing class tonight - Bucky is staring at his hands. Ungloved metal and soft scarred flesh. His hands are tools, they’re instruments. They can be molds or looms or brushes or chisels.

“Weapons” doesn’t even enter his mind at all.

Tags:

@vacant-writings

@bitsandbobsandstuff

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #stucky #sambucky #marvel #marvel fic

[maraschinotopped]

>Sandy made a group chat

>Sandy renamed the group to “The trash bin of all universes”

>Sandy invited Oreo Icecream Sandwich Cookie

Sandy: @everyone

>Oreo Icecream Sandwich Cookie changed their name to “Oreo”

Oreo: why did you make this

Sandy: Wait a sec!!

>Sandy invited Udon Cookie, Nesquik Powder Cookie, Graphite Cookie, and 10+ others

Oreo: oh no

Sandy: @everyone

>Graphite Cookie renamed themself to “New Warrior”

New Warrior: whats this?

Chocolate Fudge Cookie: owo w..whats thwis??

Udon Cookie: i stg fudge i will ban you myself

Chocolate Fudge Cookie: do it cowawrd

>Udon Cookie changed their name to “already going insane”

already going insane: im coming to your location rn fudge

>Chocolate Fudge Cookie changed their name to “Not a coward”

Not a coward: ur a cowawrd!!! ahahhahahaa

already going insane: bitch i actually know where you live

Charcoal Cookie: How the absolute fuck did i get invited here

already going insane: how the fuck am i suppose to know

already going insane: wait aren’t you like one of those evil cookies like enchantress

Charcoal Cookie: uhhhhhhhhh

New Warrior: Diiid i hear evil?

Charcoal Cookie: oh god no

Nesquik Powder Cookie: ???????????????????

Sandy: @Nesquik Powder Cookie oh hi!!!

Nesquik Powder Cookie: oh hi sandy 

USB Cookie: what is this and why was i forced into this

>Charcoal Cookie changed their name to “im a god bitch bow down”

already going insane: fuck off i could probably kill you @im a god bitch bow down

im a god bitch bow down: no

Jelly Shark Cookie: hm? whats this thing??? a group chat?????

Sandy: yup!!!

Jelly Shark Cookie: oh cool!

>Jelly Shark Cookie changed their name to “*Jaws theme*”

USB Cookie: who even are you people???????????

Not a coward: wiat if evwery1 is inviwted here thwen...

Not a coward: @Papercut Cookie  @Papercut Cookie @Papercut Cookie

Papercut Cookie: Who the absolute FUCK is this

Not a coward: uwu

Papercut Cookie: Oh god

>Papercut Cookie has disconnected

Not a coward: umu

already going insane: why

*Jaws theme*: dum dum,,, dum dum,,, dudududududududududududu

im a god bitch bow down: shut up weeb

*Jaws theme*: well RUDE.

already going insane: ok boomer

im a god bitch bow down: fuck off im not a boomer

Peacock Cookie: w

USB Cookie: FOR THE LOVE OF MILLENNIAL SOMEONE ANSWER MY GODDAMN QUESTION

Peacock Cookie: @USB Cookie i think this is a groyp chast?? ithnk

USB Cookie: oh

USB Cookie: cool

Oleander Cookie: How goddamn important must this be to interrupt my work

USB Cookie: you

Oleander Cookie: oh no

>Oleander Cookie has disconnected

Peacock Cookie: whysd u scary themoff??????

im a god bitch bow down: use a fucking dictionary kid

Sandy: ChhAAARcooaalll if you insult them one more time then ill have to mute you~~!!!! @im a god bitch bow down

im a god bitch bow down: shut up weeb, you probably cant even mute me bitch

>im a god bitch bow down has been muted. Reason: i told you! =)

already going insane: thats vaguely threatening

Sandy: =)

New Warrior: Sorry, im back, i needed to get food. what did i miss

already going insane: the so called ‘god’ got muted. karma

Roadkill Cookie: hm

New Warrior: wait who are you

Roadkill Cookie: i have a username for a reason use your eyes

Roadkill Cookie: so, it looks like everyone has been invited here

Sandy: yup!!!

Roadkill Cookie: so Icecream cake cat has also been invited

Sandy: yup!!! and?

Roadkill Cookie: @Icecream Cake Cat hey bitch i lived. im coming for you. watch out.

>Roadkill Cookie has disconnected

Sandy:

Sandy: welp cant do anything now

Icecream Cake Cat: why did i get a ping from here

Icecream Cake Cat: .

Icecream Cake Cat: what the fuck

Icecream Cake Cat: wHAT THE FUCK

>Icecream Cake Cat has disconnected

Nesquik Powder Cookie: i dont even know whats happening anymore

Peacock Cookie: iknow rigt?

>Sandy changed Peacock’s name to “Baby”

Baby: wh

Sandy: its the truth~

Baby: iam nt baby thouh..

Snowcone Cookie: oh!!!!!!!! sorry!!!!!1 i came late!!! hope i didnt mis anything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

Sandy: u didnt really miss anything ur fine!!!

Snowcone Cookie: whos alive rn????

Baby: ia m!!1

already going insane: im here too

New Warrior: me too!

*Jaws theme*: same

USB Cookie: i guess im also here. just kinda observing right now

Not a coward: uwu...

Black Cat Cookie: um

Black Cat Cookie: i havent been,well, involved but

Black Cat Cookie: im here ..

Sandy: GASP

Sandy: Blackie baby!!!!!

already going insane: blackie baby????

>Sandy changed Black Cat Cookie’s name to “blackie baby!!!”

blackie baby!!!: o

blackie baby!!!: oh???

Not a coward: wait a sec arent you the cookie we were suppose to kill multiple times

blackie baby!!!: wait what??????????

already going insane: fudge shut up

*Jaws theme*: you what now

Snowcone Cookie: well uhhhhhh

>Snowcone Cookie changed their name to “Ski Resort”

Ski Resort: calm down??? please????????? lets not fight......!!!!!

Sandy: yeah!!! lets not fight!! or you know what happens =)

already going insane: i dont know what happens but i dont want to find out

Sandy: =)

already going insane: please dont hurt me

*Jaws theme*: stop!!!!!!!

Baby: sandy itsa lik.... 11 p mgo to sle ep

Sandy: mmmmmmmmm

*Jaws theme*: wait its 11??? oh sh

Ski Resort: oh!!!! it is 11... i have to go to sleep now then!!! cya !!!!!11

>Ski Resort has disconnected

already going insane: oh shit i should go to sleep

Not a coward: uwu do i reawly hawe to go to sweep????

already going insane: well yeah we need to do something for papercut tomorrow, remember?

Not a coward: owo i forgowt abowt thawt...

Not a coward: bwye!!!!!!!

>Not a coward has disconnected

>already going insane has disconnected

>blackie baby!!! has disconnected

Sandy: guess they also fell asleep~~

*Jaws theme*: holy i did not see the time

Baby: goito slep!!!! now!!!!!!!11!11

*Jaws theme*: yikes ok ok

>*Jaws theme* has disconnected

Nesquik Powder Cookie: guys im back

Nesquik Powder Cookie: wait everyones sleeping

Sandy: yup!!

Nesquik Powder Cookie: welp better go then

>Nesquik Powder Cookie has disconnected

>im god bitch bow down has disconnected

Sandy: and there goes the so called “god”

Baby: i wil.. slep now. go tosle eep sandy

Sandy: ah, gn peacock!!!

>Baby has disconnected

New Warrior: wwwweeell

>USB Cookie has disconnected

New Warrior: that was interesting. better hit the hay now

>New Warrior has disconnected

Oreo: . . .

Oreo: sandy why

Sandy: =)

>Oreo has disconnected

>Sandy has disconnected

>Everyone is Offline

#holy shit that was long #:) #[descriptive writing] #[baking time]

[mlpdestinyverse]

“Unexpected Development”

Feat: Monochrome,  Skychaser

Returning to the Cutie Mark Sanctuary after running an errand for Scootaloo, Skychaser has an...unexpected reunion with a familiar (and heckin gorgeous) face.

Story and Description Under The Cut!

-Skychaser walks alone down a hallway of the Cutie Mark Sanctuary, one of his arms tightly holding a plastic shopping bag close to him. Scootaloo had sent him off on an errand, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But what Skychaser finds curious is that the mare had requested numerous packs of drawing charcoal, erasers, and graphite pencils. Now the stallion is all for providing more supplies for the visual art sector! They certainly needed it. But based on what she had said, Scootaloo was going to sit in on a volunteered art class. As far as Skychaser remembers, Scootaloo only ever checks in on volunteered classes. Rarely did she sit in on one. And for it to be art-related one, and one she seemed to REALLY be looking forward to? Very curious. Skychaser shakes off his thoughts as he approaches the room number Scootaloo had given him.- ’Maybe we have a special artist on our hooves…? Eh, better not think too much about it. We got kids ready to show their stuff~’ Skychaser: -sits and opens the door with his free hoof. He looks down to quickly readjust the supplies with both arms, careful not to drop them- Alright, kiddos, I got your emergency art stash right he- -Sky stops dead in his tracks upon lifting his head. He doesn’t notice the children at the tables, who have looked up upon his arrival. He barely even notices Scootaloo, sitting backwards in a chair on the opposite side of the room and leaning her head over to catch a glimpse of him. What captures his full attention is the pony standing at the front of the classroom, their colorless hair tied back in a ponytail while glasses adorn their face. They, too, turn their attention towards him with calm green eyes. Skychaser recognizes the pony instantly. He doesn’t realize his hold on the art supplies has weakened until the bag thumps to the floor.- Skychaser: -takes in the pony’s taller, muscular form, and finds himself sputtering- I w-wh- M-M-Monochrome? Monochrome: -quiet at first, searching Skychaser’s face and molten orange eye with unmasked curiosity, until their eyes widen with recognition- ...Skychaser? -The room is soon filled with murmuring as the kids exchange confused and intrigued looks. However, Scootaloo claps her hooves at them Scootaloo: Hey now, this art lesson isn’t over yet! Professor Monochrome didn’t come aaaall this way as our special guest just to listen to everypony gossip! Kids: Sorry Professor Monochrome… Monochrome: (!) -returns their attention to their class- Ah...no, it’s fine.

Skychaser: Oh! R-right! Sorry... -self-consciously picks the bag back up, only for large black hooves to reach for it, startling Sky with the sudden proximity. For somepony who’s seeing someone for the first time in years, Sky notices how strangely calm and unreadable the other pegasus is- Monochrome: -takes the bag- Thank you. Skychaser: -is beginning to realize how hot his face feels, all but absentmindedly replying- Yeah, welcome… Scootaloo: -grins and pulls out a chair at the table next to her- Hey, PST, Sky! Come on, sit next to me! Skychaser: (??) O-okay? -stiffly walks over to Scootaloo, keenly aware of himself as he passes Monochrome. As he sits with Scootaloo, absolutely having no clue as to why he’s there, he can barely pay attention to Monochrome’s lesson, completely enamored by the pony themself.-

‘What the hell, what the hell, why are they here, how are they so big- why are they so BUFF?! I mean damn, puberty hit them like a fucking METEOR-’ Scootaloo: -watches for a moment as Monochrome walks around the classroom to hand out supplies and give their instructions. She then turns in her chair to face Sky and whisper- So! How do you know Chromey? They're not exactly the social type. Skychaser: (!) -shifts uncomfortably, but also speaks quietly- We uh... used to go to the same racetrack as kids. That was like...ten years ago though. -pulls in eyebrows- You know them? Scootaloo: -snorts in amusement- I mean yeah! Momo’s my nephie! Skychaser: (?!) Your what?! -cringes, realizing he had raised his voice and garnered the attention of some kids. Even Monochrome glimpses up for a moment, causing Sky to quickly look away. He focuses back on Scootaloo, whispering harshly- You’re related?! Scootaloo: Yep~ When I was a kid, their mom Rainbow Dash was like a big sis to me! And her parents practically became my parents. So we all consider each other family! Skychaser: ...wow… -Sky goes quiet. Normally he tries to participate in any classes he ends up getting involved in, but this is an exception. He gets lost in his thoughts instead. He almost feels guilty, realizing memories of his old friend had drifted to the back of his mind. But he also tries to remind himself that he had been pretty...preoccupied, with everything that had happened.- ‘What are the chances...who could’ve guessed that I’ve actually known someone from their family all these years?’ -Apparently Sky had walked in half way through the class, because twenty minutes later, Scootaloo stands to announce the ending of the session. Skychaser watches tensely as both she and Monochrome dismiss the children and say their goodbyes. Sky suddenly panics, realizing he hadn't planned out anything. What was he going to do now? What was he going to say?- Scootaloo: -once the last child trots out of the room, Scootaloo turns and beams at the remaining two ponies- Alright you two, I’m just gonnaaaa step out and let you two catch up- kay~? ‘KAY, PEACE! -zips out of the room and happily shuts the door behind her- Skychaser: -nervously sweats, thinking about how weirdly eager Scoot was to leave the two of them to talk. As Mo turns away from the door, Sky forces himself to focus.- ‘It’s okay...it’s just Momo...be chill.’ Skychaser: -smiles and casually leans forward, resting his arms against the desk while feigning confidence- Well, well! Monochrome Dashielle-! -immediately stops in his tracks, seeing the rather disturbed face the other pegasus makes- Monochrome: ...please never utter that again. -walks over to their bag, beginning to repack it- Just stick with ‘Monochrome’. Skychaser: -winces, dropping the facade- Ah, sorry... ‘Two minutes into this conversation and you’re already fucking it up, Sky. Nice.’ -attempts to change the subject- Wow, it’s...been a while, huh? You look… ‘Good’- no, ‘fine’- wait, ‘beautiful’- SHIT-’ ...pretty swell!  -laughs awkwardly- I almost can’t believe you used to be tinier than me. So much for being older, huh? Monochrome: -momentarily glances up from their bag before their eyes flick back to their task- Yeah. Guess ten years does a lot to you. Skychaser: (...?) -a feeling of nervousness settles in, realizing that Monochrome...doesn’t seem very interested in him. They seem detached. Maybe even standoffish- Is...everything okay? Monochrome: -pauses in what they’re doing. A few heartbeats pass without them moving or saying anything- Skychaser: (??) -starts to feel a bit concerned- Mo-? Monochrome: You’re really going to act like nothing happened? Skychaser: -confused and anxious as Monochrome meets his gaze. Instead of the calm they had been displaying up to this point, a mix of annoyance and...hurt, breaks the surface- Monochrome: -furrows their eyebrows- Like you didn’t disappear without warning…? Are we supposed to just carry on and ignore that? Skychaser: -guilt and unease hits him. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He realizes how insensitive he must have seemed, not even acknowledging something that apparently had been so crucial to Monochrome.- ‘I just didn’t...think they’d miss me much.’ ...I’m really sorry, I just...-tenses and averts his gaze in discomfort. He recalls the day he had turned on Lightning Dust and had quit training under her, a memory that causes his stress to skyrocket- ...i-it’s hard to talk about. But I promise I had my reasons... -Skychaser searches the floor, unable to look at Monochrome again. He only lifts his head when he hears a heavy exhale. Monochrome too is staring at the floor, appearing worn but pacified- Monochrome: I’m...sure you did. Sorry. Skychaser: -sits up straight, desperate to sincerely express his regret- I honestly didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything. It just...happened. Monochrome: I believe you… -goes silent for another moment- ...do you still race? Skychaser: -lets out a short, light laugh- Heck no. And I'm guessing you don't either.- When Mo looks up again, Sky smiles kindly- I knew art suited you. Monochrome: ...yeah. It does. Skychaser: -feels a heavy wave of relief as the other pegasus picks up their bag and walks over to his table. Yet that relief is overwritten by a shock of feelings as Monochrome sits down and slides off their glasses, giving Sky a perfect view of their perfect face- ‘Oooooh my God.’ -gulps- You uh...have nice glasses! When did you start wearing those? Monochrome: -calmly blinks- Oh...no, these are fake. -folds them up and puts them away- I figured that if I was going to be teaching kids, I might as well look the part. -readjusts their tie- Calling me ‘professor’ was Aunt Scoot’s idea, though. Skychaser: ...‘That’ssocute. OhmyGodthat’sadorable.’ Monochrome: -relaxes against the desk, leaning their cheek on a hoof while giving Sky their full attention- I see you pierced your ears. You look good with plugs. Skychaser: -his face heats up significantly. He can feel himself short-circuiting- Y-you do too- I mean, that you look good! Yeah! -resists kicking himself before realizing there is one other thing he needs answers to. He raises an eyebrow and gently jokes- So like...are you going to explain the muscles, or…? Monochrome: Ah. They make me feel good. But I mainly wanted to make sure I could pick up my tortoise without any problems. He’s pretty big. Skychaser: Oh! I kind of remember you mentioning a pet turtle! Monochrome: -reaches back into their bag. They pull out a wallet, and then tug out a small picture from within, sliding it across the table- His name’s Tank. Bravest tortoise you’ll ever meet. Skychaser: -he stares. Although he sees the turtle and mentally acknowledges how cute it is, what really strikes Sky is Monochrome’s smile in the picture. It’s small, but it seem so radiant and genuine- ‘What a smile…’ Wow. Monochrome: Handsome, I know. Skychaser: Yeah…(!) -quickly snaps out of it- Ah YEAH, he is! He seems like a cool guy- -feels his heart flip as Mo’s mouth cracks a smile, a gentle look coming into their eyes- Monochrome: -takes their picture back- The coolest, yeah. Skychaser: ‘...no. Sky, no, be jealous of a turtle and you’ll never live it down.’ Monochrome: -glances up at the wall clock, and appears displeased- Mm...I don’t mean to cut this short, but I have to get going. I have a shift really soon. Skychaser: Oh! Where do you work? Monochrome: ...Wildmart. Skychaser: ….I’m so sorry. Monochrome: -sighs, sliding their saddlebag on- It’s just until my art career picks up. I’ll survive. -nods at Skychaser- Take care, okay? Skychaser: -a bit surprised by the short farewell and its strange sense of finality, watching Monochrome make their way to the door. But there was so much more he wanted to ask, and so much more he wanted to talk about.- ...hey! Monochrome, wait- Monochrome: (?) -turns, their hoof on the doorknob- Skychaser: -rubs his arm nervously under Monochrome’s expectant gaze- ...I’m really happy to see you again. And I know it’s been forever. But...I’d really like to see you more. -lifts his head and flashes Mo a shy yet warm smile- Maybe we can...start all of this over, you know? Monochrome: -eyes are widened a bit, as if genuinely stunned- ....really? Skychaser: (?) -doesn’t quite get why Monochrome seems so puzzled over this- Yeah! Maybe we can talk again sometime. What do you say? Monochrome: -hesitates, looking off to the side in thought- ...I’ll be volunteering for the rest of the week. -fully turns to look at Sky- If you really mean that, then just...drop by here. Same time. Skychaser: (!!) -nods enthusiastically- Sounds good! -playfully salutes- I’ll see you tomorrow then! Monochrome: Yeah...I’ll see you. -Skychaser watches as Monochrome walks out and closes the door behind them. Though he’s excited, he lets out a relieved yet disbelieving short laugh, leaning back in his chair while smoothing back his hair with a hoof- Skychaser: ...well that happened.

Monochrome and Skychaser ended up seeing each other again after ten years. Monochrome was originally distant so they could avoid the stressful situation - because surely they'd never seen Sky again after this and who knows who he is now and if he'd even want to know them again - but Sky's question got them to finally (for once in their dang life) talk about their feelings. Mo was also still pretty convinced that they're not interesting, hence the surprise that Sky ACTUALLY wanted to see them more. Meanwhile, Scoots just wants her nephie (again, nephew+niece, for those unfamiliar with the term) to stop being all by themself and mmMMMAKE SOME FRIENDS, GOSH DANG IT.

After this? Sky and Monochrome tried to rebuild their old friendship. Mo found themself having trouble opening up, but appreciated Sky's company and time. And then Sky finally got the fricken guts to ask Mo out, and the dorks ended up dating for less than a year. Yeah, the two ended up breaking things off mutually, due to clashing...issues. But they chose to remain close, supportive friends afterwards.

#Destinyverse #Scootaloo #my little pony #Skychaser #Monochrome Dashielle #mlp #mlp art #mlp oc #story