#alongside the watercolour brush

[brandogenius]

happy 20th birthday to myself! here is a little gift from me ! a little thank you for enjoying my writing and the different fics / headcanonsy ive made! thank you all :D

Birthday Surprise.

‼️RPF‼️

Julien x reader

description: Julien plans something special for your birthday

word count: 1,163

Julien woke up a bit early than expected for a normal day off work. the sun was shining through the window. gold hues hitting her arms and face like liquid gold kissing her skin. the faint sound of the birds chirping outside made her relax slightly. tattooed arms wrapped around your frame. one hand in your hair, twirling small strands of your hair around her fingers and the other wrapped around your waist.

moments like these were what julien loved the best. being able to lay here in a comfortable silence at the early morning with you, she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

today was more than a normal day off work however. it was your birthday. one year older than you were before. it was a special day in juliens eyes. she had a plan to make sure it would be the best day ever.

as much as the older wanted to stay in bed, holding onto you and twirling your hair for a little bit longer, she knew she needed to get up. step one of her plan was to make a special breakfast for you. googling recipes and pinterest inspiration the night before, saved onto her boards. julien quietly and slowly detangled herself from the mess of legs and the duvet sheet. thanking the gods you were a deep sleeper. julien placed the duvet cover up over your shoulders, placing a quick kiss to your forehead as she made her way to the bedroom door, quietly opening it just a crack and sliding out into the hallway.

soft pattering of sock covered feet creek under the wood stairs as julien makes her way down into the kitchen. shoving her hair into a ponytail, julien starts to work on preparing breakfast. nothing too extravagant but nothing too simple. freshly made pancakes with chocolate covered strawberries she made the night before.

soft music filled the air from the record player in the living room. turned down just enough to not wake you but enough for the tattooed woman to hear faintly in the kitchen.

the summer chill breezes past julien. the windows were halfways opened. the faint smell of morning dew grass filled her nose alongside the smell of the fresh flowers perched on top of the window sill. having both recently moved into a small house you both call home. decorating it to fit the aesthetic both of you loved. natural light was something julien loved in the morning.

something about a free summers morning had juliens chest filled with happiness and giddiness. knowing days like this dragged out longer. sitting out in the back garden until nine pm on a saturday night, drinking cold water and listening to the birds fly from the small birdhouse she built last summer for you. julien sitting on a chair, guitar on lap, lyric sheets and notes sprawled across the table. across from her you paint on watercolour paper with art supplies littering the small table. brushing hair behind your face, you huff. the small gusts of winds knocking some stray strands of hair over your face. julien chuckling to herself, handing you her sun glasses to place in your head.

julien shook the memory out of her head for a quick moment. focusing her attention back on the cooking batter in front of her. she wanted to make this special for you. breakfast in bed was something you normally did for julien. days when the musician would be free from a hard days work in the studio or coming back from a world tour, you wanted to treat your girlfriend to something special. julien would always be shocked. appreciating the effort you made for her, thanking you with a small kiss to the lips as you settled back into your shared bed with her. julien sipping on her coffee whilst you caught up on the latest chapter of your book.

last years birthday was a bit different. choosing to spend your birthday with julien on tour, it wasn’t as delicate and more intimidate as it is this year. hosting a small surprise birthday for you at the backstage venue the boys were playing. julien having asked lucy to bring you shopping for the day in a state you’ve never been to while phoebe and julien blow up balloons and carefully hang up banners across the dressing room walls.

it was perfect. you thought it was perfect. julien however, had higher expectations. wanting to make it perfect, wishing she could’ve done something more but you were quick to calm the spiral she was getting herself into by exclaiming it was the best thing anyone has ever done for you.

julien finished making the pancakes. quickly placing them on a plate, drilling syrup over the desserts. delicately placing the chocolate fruit on the side of the plate and placing the rest into a little bowl on the side of the tray. filling a glass of orange juice, she places a small vase of your favourite flowers onto the tray as well.

presentation may not be her strongest trait but as long as it looked pretty, she knew you’d love it as well. a small wave of nerve fill her tummy as she grabbed the tray, heading upstairs back to your shared room. what if you didn’t like it? what if it didn’t taste good? julien couldn’t help but overthink every so often. always stressed about wanting to make things perfect. you deserved the best things. not half assed things that weren’t edible.

the small spiral came to a halt. quietly walking back into the bedroom, she found you awake. propped up onto the pillow, book in hand. you turned over with a shocked expression on your face, julien standing at the doorway, small blush on her face.

“happy birthday, princess” julien grinned, making her way to the bed. you quickly put your bookmark on the page you just recently started, tossing the book aside onto juliens side of the bed. “you made this for me?” you looked over at your girlfriend with a smile. julien places the tray of food onto your lap, moving the covers as she curled into the bed beside you.

“thought you deserved something special on your birthday” juliens cold hands reached over, grabbing your chin gently as she pressed her lips against yours in a gentle kiss. you broke away from the kiss, quickly tearing off a piece of the pancake and eating it.

“thank you my love.”

all the worries and doubts julien had now disappeared in a puff of smoke. seeing you happy and content made it all worth it. the tattooed musician settled down in the bed, head laying on your shoulder as she scrolled through her phone. the sound of small laughter filled the bedroom. juliens phone sitting up on the phone as the two of you catch up on your favourite podcasts new episode.

this was definitely one of your favourite mornings so far

#pom writes #julien baker x reader #julien baker au #julien baker one shot #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #boygenius au #boygenius fanfic #boygenius one shot #boygenius x reader #julien baker x fem!reader

[maiji]

[image set: Four pages from a short comic digitally rendered in a brush art and muted watercolour style. First page: Cover showing a snake-level perspective of a white snake slithering along the ground in a village, clouds and mountains visible in the distance. The title reads "ssstudy" in a brush calligraphy style, and the words "by Maiji/Mary Huang" look like a red seal/stamp. Second page: The snake slithers along the ground, when a small rock suddenly lands near it. It looks up to find three unfriendly looking children, who point at it aggressively. Third page: The snake flees while dodging rocks being thrown at it. It runs into a foot, and looks up to find an old lady holding flowers. Fourth page: The old woman smiles at the snake, then bows and offers it a flower, placing it on the ground in front of the snake. The snake looks at the flower.]

ssstudy is a short story I made for the SpiderForest Webcomic Collective's anthology "Threads: Creatures"! It's one of my little Buddhist fantasy/slice-of-life tales.

You can read the full thing at https://globalcomix.com/c/ssstudy along with a four-page behind-the-scenes bonus!

You can also find the full Threads: Creatures, plus all of the other @spiderforestcomics anthologies, at https://ko-fi.com/spiderforest/shop ! Every book has so many fantastic stories in many different genres, art styles and interpretations of the theme! It was an honour to be able to be in a book alongside so many wonderful creators!

#comics #ssstudy #snakes #animals #spiderforest #spiderforest webcomic collective #digital art #art by maiji/mary huang

[queruloustea]

Hello!! I hope its not a bother to ask, since i cant tell if youve been asked this before

But would you be able to share the brushes that you use? Mainly the ones you use in your doodles! Ive been looking for a brush for colouring and i really like the water colour effect your colouring has ^^

hello!

as you might've seen from another recent ask, i am not so sure on the exact name for my watercolour brush nor which brush set it comes from (an investigation has suggested it might come from the mcbad - watercolour set, although i couldn't be sure). however, i do know that it works lovely alongside the lasso tool, and is set to scatter angle for interest :)) i recommend!

i also will often erase back from the colour with the same brush, and add bits of a deeper tone to add a more ... uneven? effect. lots of going over and over and over it again until something fits right :) that might add to it!!

[melisusthewee]

This is my contribution for the big Dragon Age collab @kirstinetheartist put together in celebration of this fandom and the release of Dragon Age Absolution!

My Inquisitor Quinn Trevelyan was due for an upgrade since my first alteration of the formal Winter Palace uniform back in late 2019/early 2020.  Much like the Free Marches themselves, Quinn’s formal attire takes inspiration from a couple of different places and eras.  Black riding boots and white jodhpurs are a staple of his wardrobe and a callback to his family’s legacy of horse breeding.  The coat is based upon an elaborate 17th Century velvet coat I saw in a museum collection.  The gold embroidery is accented in pearls along the collage, trim, and cuffs.  The feathered cap is a Tudor-style flat cap that would likely be made of velvet to match the shoulder cape (also based on Tudor and Stewart era British fashions).  Instead of any sort of military insignia or sash, I gave Quinn a belt that was meant to be similar to the Ukranian krayka and French-Canadian ceinture flechee.  It is meant to be both practical as well as ornamental, and embroidered with patterns and imagery that would be unique to the Trevelyans. The peacock feather is simply because Quinn himself is a bit of a peacock.

This was also a significant departure from my normal colouring/painting style.  Because this was such an exciting project and because I was working alongside so many wonderfully talented artists, I wanted to take the opportunity to try something different.  The Japanese artist Hidari did some of my favourite character designs within the Fire Emblem franchise when he did the artwork for Shadows of Valentia.  It always had this colourful but soft watercolour quality to it.  This is my own homage to that while keeping to my own individual drawing style.

Quinn was a lot of fun to work on, and a lot of hours were put into this!  (It was all painted with one brush.)  I am very proud of how he has turned out. :)

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #herald of andraste #inquisitor trevelyan #male trevelyan #m!trevelyan #oc: quinn trevelyan #melis draws stuff

[mothmans-juicy-cheeks]

🍬🧸💌

Two stuffed animals! A panda that's almost five feet tall (yes, it was a little bit of a struggle to transport it, but they managed), as well as a possum that's a little more conveniently sized.

An assortment of candy is given alongside that. It's a sealed jar with different types of treats inside.

They also bought it a bunch of new art supplies. A case that opens up into layers of pencils, watercolours, acrylics, oil paints and different types of brushes.

And, to top it all off, there's a little note attached to the stuffed possum, which reads, "my compass always points towards you," and has a little picture of a minecraft compass on the back.

》{ VALENTINES EVENT × for @princessnotfound }《

+ Nick had been having a sucky day by the time he'd gotten to his dorm, only to enter to find things on his bunk. Instantly, it'd start to cry, that being the only way to get out any emotion at that point. It was happy and thankful tears.

+ He'd snuggle against the panda, on the floor, making sure the candy jar was out of the way before looking at the art stuff. Finally a small smile as he scoot that way. Now the possum, pressing it against its face after reeding the note. Thankfully George knew the type of fur fabric it liked.

+ Nick would fall asleep cuddling the plushies, not caring about much else.

#Anon Prompts #princessnotfound #Valentines Event

[elis-corner]

Can we hear a bit more about them (your ocs).

I've wanted to write them for ages but I don't really where to start

thx

Heya anon :) Of course! I never really planned to share any of them on Tumblr but here we are, I guess!

The first proper OC I created was a Lord of the Rings OC. Her name was Cuil, and she was a Dunedain ranger. I came up with her as a character because I wanted to start writing fanfiction for myself but without my parents knowing, and so she was born! I don't write her much anymore, but if I roleplay with my friends she often comes out for a duel or two. The way she ties in with my OCs who live in our world is in a different "timeline", to quote FNAF. One of my OCs is a writer and when they write about Cuil in a certain notebook they bring Cuil into the world in a manner of their choice.

The three OCs I spend the most time on in the present are John, Eva, and their daughter. Yes I am a minor with zero parenting experience and barely any romantic experience, but no one sees it, it doesn't have to be 100% realistic, alright?

John was originally based off the guy I like, but he ended up evolving into his own person over time. Eva was quite heavily based off me; mainly the stuff I love about myself, but also the things I don't as a way for me to convince myself that they're okay. Their daughter is a mix of the two, mainly, and has those parts of me that are rather small and quite different to Eva.

Notice the key right here: Based off, based off, and based off and based off. Every single character I create is based off someone in my life. They serve as a great base for different personalities, and help each character have their own unique touch.

If you want to see the kind of things I write, under the cut I've included part of the first thing I ever wrote for Eva and John, earlier this year. Right from that first paragraph, try to establish the OCs personality and possibly behaviour. Their physical description is not mandatory for one to enjoy your works.

Anyway, I don't really know how to help, but I reckon this is good? If not let me know and I'll write more. Have fun writing! If you do ever decide to post it, tag me, or even just DM something to me. I'd love to see!

It really was a perfect view. Eva pulled out her sketchpad, the paper coarse on the side she began to draw on, compared to the smooth and glossy material opposite. It was a comforting feeling, the sand beneath her, rubbing against her skin, with the warm sunrise reaching over the pungent ocean, its warm colours reflecting off of the wet surface. Somehow, it was something that had never come to mind as something to capture–until John recommended it, of course. She couldn’t help but sketch him in as he jogged alongside the waves, mostly just a silhouette as the grand raging ball of flame illuminated the area behind. Her watercolours were the best medium to select, she thought, though nothing could ever properly capture the beauty she looked upon.

The sun further above them than before, John retreated from the waves, coming to lay down beside his kindred spirit. Gently, he brushed some hair that was obscuring his vision to look at Eva’s dabble. The way she moved her brush across the page, the way she bit lightly on her lip as she worked, the way she could capture life and beauty in an unbiased and graceful manner; they were small things about her art that John adored, feeling like he received an insight into the world from her gorgeous eyes. She was a wonderful person. She deserved so much more than he could ever offer, and she did not deserve the kind of treatment that led them here in the first place.

‘You weren’t wrong,’ she said to fill the heavy silence. ‘It is beautiful out here. A good way to distract from… recent events.’ John couldn’t quite understand how she could talk so casually about the end of her relationship–it almost felt as if she didn’t really care all that much, as if she didn’t really love the man who betrayed her.

#ocs #long post

[grad604kaywee]

W4: SDL - x20 Objects

Linocut - A style of creationg and mark making I wish to pursue and use further in my design practice.

camera - this camera is able to be used underwater and in sportier outdoor areas. This will feed into the environmental awareness projects.

Canon Camera - A goal of mine is to incorporate more photographic works into my practice.

Necklace - I want to bring my African culture and heritage into my future works. This necklace gifted to me by my family represents my history.

Lace cut - gifted to me by my mother, this item represents the vintage and elegant aspects that I like to portray in my graphic design

Chromebook - This is my device I primarily use for digital paintings and artworks. This is very common in my current work and will be in the future.

Leaves - To represent the connection with nature that I have and wish to hold, I have placed this bag of dried leaves and petals from my inventory of references.

Message in a bottle - This bottle represents stories and truths that I wish to tell with my design practice. I want to be authentic and honest like this bottle appears.

Local pin - This pin represents my connection to the local community and how I wish to push that further.

Colours - These are colour swatches that I use for colour referencing when printing. I do a lot of printing and publication so this perfectly portrays that.

Vintage flowers - This illustrated flower ties in with my digital practice and inspires me with the beautiful colour choices and textures of the 2d object. I want to create similar printed outcomes and illustrations.

Threaded - this beautifully designed publication is a perfect example of good design practice. The inside and outside has been fully considered and created meaning from.

Paintbrush - This brush is one of the oldest from my collection. I started as a painter and sketch artist which shows through into my new works.

Sketchbook - the book where all my designs start. It holds the rough sketches, the iterations, and the brainstorms.

Clay - another medium I experiment with and would like to incorporate further is working with ceramics and clay.

New paintbrushes - I recently purchased these new paintbrushes to be used in my designs tests and iterations.

Watercolours - this pocket sized paint box can be carried anywhere with me so that when I find inspiration I can use it immediately.

Markers - A useful tool for designing. The organic and colour filled sketches start my design progressions.

Paints - Of course alongside my paintbrushes, I use paints. These are a combination of watercolour and acrylics.

Crochet - A new skill I  want to possibly incorporate into my design practice is crochet. The many patterns and materials inspire me along with the caring and humanistic approach.

#week4 #sdl

[sonofthepear]

Sky Sports - The Ashes

The Ashes is one if not the pinnacle of cricket in England and Australia. Unfortunately it didn't go our way however, I'm not here to talk about cricket. The graphics used throughout the series from Sky Sports have looked great. Visually the colours for both teams have been vibrant and stood out but also complemented each other well when used side by side.

The use of watercolour paint brush strokes and illustrative elements like the team badges and Sky Sports logo, bring the whole piece together. Alongside these elements the player shots have also been treated in a way that compliments the whole artwork. Great job from the team at Sky Sports it looked great apart from that last image of course.

#graphic design #skysports #the ashes #australia #england #ben stokes #pat cummins #art #branding #sport

[doctordonovan-a]

1 and 4

1.  What’s the lie your character says most often?

 not to be a total cliche,   but 99% of her claims that she's fine or happy or well are completely untrue.    maeve is the kind of person who has spent her entire life perfecting what other people want from her    -    she's been a lot of roles ranging from gifted child,     genius scientist,     sweet girlfriend...     but none of those roles ever allowed for her to be not okay or to grieve or suffer in her own way.     maeve in general doesn't lie,    instead she's a very honest person who is almost never entirely forthcoming.     you get an answer to your question,     but if you don't phrase it perfectly,     maeve will keep the parts she wants to to herself.    (   why worry people if she doesn't need to?  she's fine.  she'll be fine.   )

 the closest to a full lie she does get is how she plays off her headaches.    in all verses that aren't pre-show   /   pre diane,     these are something she gets constantly and are agonising,     usually a result from literally being shot in the head and spending a year in a coma   /   literally dying in her dc and marvel verses.    in her stargate verse,    the process of having d'ane removed had very lingering effects as it wasn't something she should have survived.    in her star trek verse,   her headaches are a direct result from being genetically altered so young and having the changes left in place for so many years...   etc.

 she never admits to how much pain she's in and even the medical experts in her life likely don't know the full extent of it without a great deal of guesswork.    she doesn't want people to worry about her or worry about something they have no power to change.    at very worst they would feel sorry for her and maeve can't be useful to people who might see her as fragile.

4.  What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

 as a teenager,   between university courses and working, maeve used to really enjoy art.     it's something she got into alongside her botany and entomology degrees    -    doing little sketches to illustrate the things she was studying,    to keep track of her work.    it was one of the first hobbies outside of reading that maeve really chose for herself,    something she could play off as being useful or for her work,    but that actually helped relax her   &&   soothe her constant anxiety at least a little.    she was also,    frankly, really good at it.    she can still draw   (   and over the years before bobby,  she'd found a fondness for watercolours  )   but whenever she approaches it or thinks about starting doing it again...    it feels like it was a hobby a different person had.    like it was never her who held the pencils or brushes.

 it takes a few years post waking from her coma for maeve to start   -   very slowly   -   sketching again.    it's often in moments of extreme boredom or trying to make a little point.    in verses where she has children,    she'll quite often sit with them when they're doing arts and crafts,   doodling the odd little character on corners of their pages to capture their attentions.  

#𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘: // headcanons #𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘: // answered asks #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // I love her but boy she could do with some therapy #𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘: // queue

[nanowrimo]

Writing Without Writing

Sometimes our writing needs a new grove to it. Though we might not think of it, our hobbies and artistic exploration will help us with our writing goals and this week's NaNo Prep: Develop a Story Idea. NaNo guest Chris Fordham holds us to a new light that our writing process could be more than writing.

Focusing all of your creative efforts into producing a long form piece of prose is certainly a good approach. Writing challenges such as NaNoWriMo encourage a surge in word processing activity to generate a new story, but is it the only way to write effectively? To constantly hammer the keys, to live and breathe the story in exclusivity?

One of the best lessons I took away from my university course on creative writing, was that being a big reader expands your abilities to weave a story. An avid reader has access to a wealth of examples of descriptive language, world-building, and dialogue beyond their own life experience. Whilst this is all absolutely true, and certainly, something I'd encourage, I wanted to write about another avenue to better writing. When it comes to my writing, I find it important to explore other creative mediums alongside my current long prose project. 

Making sketches or art of any quality (not necessarily needing to be a masterpiece), temporarily switches your mind off from the story. The reason this could be a good thing is that whilst the hand is guiding a pen or brush for a while, it is learning something about small details. When you're making a picture, you are trying to interpret some idea or feeling about the subject. It is much like using words to do the same. If the picture you're making is related to the story you're writing, you may even reveal something of a character or scene to yourself that you were as yet unaware of or struggling to resolve. Photography too can be used in such a way. The majority of people will have access to some form of camera, probably used in the main for simple snapshots and selfies. Training your eye as an artistic photographer also gets you thinking about smaller details and how they all add up to a more complete whole.

Music and poetry are perhaps media more easily relatable to using words. Composing a song or working within an unfamiliar poetic form or rhyming scheme forces some interesting wordplay. You can learn something from writing a lyric to a tune, even rewriting the words to an existing song. Cadence is pivotal in music and a component of great poetry; it simply describes the flow or rhythm present in a verse. There is no reason why lines of a story can't be written within the structures of a poem. Consider a lyrical ballad such as “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe, or the songs of Bob Dylan, they are stories but set to a rhythm, stories with a beat to them that moves beneath the sounds themselves. Some of Virginia Woolf’s writings are described as prose poems and exercise this lyricality well. Removing the stanza line breaks doesn’t break the rhythm.

There is a multitude of other hobbies and interests out there that help train your brain to look at things differently. What I’m saying here is that your word count could benefit from you stepping back and remembering your other hobbies. A thousand words can be great or they can be filler depending on their content. Sometimes the exact same subject matter or dialogue can be conveyed in a lot fewer, paced, and placed sounds. Whether the words deeply explore intricate but relevant detail or pack a weighty punch in shorter, more poetic lines, the influence of these other media may play a role in finding them.

Chris Fordham is a jack of all trades, master of none in terms of creativity, mainly focusing his efforts as a musician in a number of projects around Northampton, UK. Chris dabbles in writing poetry and prose. He studied creative writing and philosophy at the University of Northampton. In his spare time he also takes photographs, sketches and paints with watercolour. He’s taken part in the November NaNoWriMo five times, successfully completing it within the challenge deadline on three occasions.

Top Photo by Gabriel Gurrola on Unsplash  

#nanowrimo #amwriting #writer #nanoprep101 #by nano guest #chris fordham

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Pastel and Bold

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character: Vincent van Gogh

Prompt: The third victim in this Secret Santa countdown is @mezzy303. You were still fairly new in the server when the Secret Santa event was announced and the sign ups were opened, but I hope you will join us the next time! 

Pastel and bold colours, when Vincent heard about that combination alongside of her love for water there was a picture painted within his mind’s eye. One that was waiting to come alive on the canvas, one that was itching at him to be painted. It was the artist within him that sensed the challenge of making the colours work together. His love for the woman who managed to be both pastel and bold added into his determination to work on this piece into which he was to pour out all of his feelings.

“You’re so precious to me,” Vincent had smiled shyly as he asked her to sit in front of him. “I’m almost afraid I won’t capture every detail of yours,” he continued, using his brush as a measure to see how he was to translate his beloved’s features onto the canvas. Bold and pastels, he had to be careful to make sure that the colours didn’t drown each other out, that it wasn’t too overwhelming, but that it stayed true to her.

Somewhere he had considered incorporating several mediums at once. She had told him how this was popular in the modern era and Vincent liked the thought of it. For she wasn’t just watercolours to him, she was so much more than just another subject to paint, and the man agreed with the assessment that there wasn’t one technique he knew that could capture her loveliness.

And so he had it all laid out, not sure if he was to use everything, not even sure how to combine it yet. After all, Vincent had never tried it before and he had no clue if it was to work, but he was willing to experiment, to let his instincts take over where his experience left him.

And so Vincent gave her curls all of the bold and pastel colours he could find and mix, while her smile flowed like the riverbanks that he loved to walk past with her hand in hand, as her eyes shimmered like the brightest stars of the night. It captured her visage in all of the bold and pastel colours she was described to be, both calm and nurturing, but forward and passionate. It was the rising sun and the sunflower turning its crown towards the warmth all at the same time.

Vincent found that he did not have to worry about his inability to capture all what he loved best about her. For it was in everything that she was, and in everything she did and said.

#ikevam vincent #ikevamp vincent #ikemen vampire vincent #ikevam #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikemen vampire x reader

[emetoandotherthings]

"oohhh I gotta lie down" for Jude bc he's dramatic like tha

A/N: First of all, don’t get excited that I’m suddenly writing again - this is an old piece that I wrote that I’ve only just got the impetus to type up... On that note, I hope you enjoy it though! 

--

“Jude?” Eden stretched across and poked his boyfriend’s thigh; Jude was leaning back, his eyes closed under his sunglasses and his mouth slightly open as he dozed. “Jude?”

“Hmmm…” Jude mumbled, still in that sleepy phase.

“Jude, it’s time to wake up,” Eden sat up, the sun lounger that he had been lying on creaked as he swung his legs round and planted his feet into the sand. It was still warm from the heat of the daytime sun, even as the sun was beginning to go down towards the horizon.

“ ‘s it?” Jude stretched his arms, above his head, his back arching, but his eyes still closed. “Was having a nice nap…”

“I know,” Eden said, poking his finger into Jude’s leg again, as it looked like Jude was going to go straight back to sleep. “Jude, you’ve been asleep for over an hour.” Eden told him, check his watch. “It’s about time that we head back and get changed so we can go out for dinner.”

“There’s no way I’ve been sleeping for an hour…” Jude rubbed his hands into his eyes and sat up further, his own sun lounger groaning as the plastic repositioned under him.

“You have,” Eden replied. “It’s just after six – look, the sun’s going down.” Eden pointed out across the beach; it had nearly completely emptied now, everyone else had gone back to their hotels or out to dinner.

Jude swung his legs round, so he was facing Eden, and reached out to grab his free hand.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” Jude said, squeezing Eden’s hand.

The holiday had been a spur of the moment decision – it was just chance that Jude’s school holidays had aligned up with Eden’s reading week, which meant they actually both had a week off to spend together. Only a few days earlier, Eden had arrived back at the flat to find Jude had selected three different locations, looked at hotels and apartments, and price checked flights. At first Eden thought he’d been joking, but it became clear very quickly that he was deadly serious. They’d decided on Tenerife, booked their flights and apartments that night, and frantically looked out clothes and packed into their cases.

“It is!” Eden agreed. “I’m glad we decided to come.”

“Yeah,” Jude nodded. “We deserve a break.”

“Look at those colours in the sky!” Eden’s finger was almost pointing directly above him; the rays of the setting sun were casting orange, pink and purple shades into the sky and reflecting on the deepening blue of the sea. It was as though someone had dipped a brush into watercolour and allowed them to merge seamlessly across a canvas.

“It’s amazing what a change of scene can do, isn’t it?” Jude had lowered his head and closed his eyes, still sounding a little sleepy.

“Yeah,” Eden agreed, then looked across at Jude and gave the hand that he was holding a small shake. “Jude? Don’t go back to sleep! Come on, we need to go back and get ready for dinner!”

“Hmmm?” Jude’s head bobbed up again. “I know. It’s just been a long day…”

Eden frowned slightly, it hadn’t really been that long day… They’d slept relatively late, ambled down to a beachside bar and had some lunch and sangria.

They’d possibly had a bit too much, because by the time they’d left in the early afternoon, they were giggly and jaunty – taking a walk right along the beach front, occasionally running back and forth from the waves hand in hand, like little children.

They’d walked so far that the backs of their necks and their faces from the sun, so they bought overpriced ice creams from a van and began their walk the other way, back towards where they had come from.

The sun had still been high in the sky when Jude managed to find some free static sun loungers underneath a canopy of wooden parasols. Sun loungers were hard to find on the beach at the best of time, but to get two together was almost impossible. Eden had bagged them, while Jude found a beach vendor selling pineapple and bought them both a slice.

Eden had laughed and commented that all he seemed to do on this holiday was eat and drink, but Jude had barely finished his pineapple before he was snoring gently on the lounger. Eden had watched him for a little while, smiling at how calm Jude looked while sleeping, before leaning back on his own lounger and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.

It hadn’t really been a long day, but Eden brushed it off; if Jude felt like it had been a long day then he’d allowed him to feel like that.

“I know,” Eden said, “but if we don’t move now it’s gonna be 9 o’clock before we even get out for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jude agreed; he slipped his book into the canvas bag that they had been using as a beach bag. Eden had stood up – stretching his arms above his head, then picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder.

“Coming?” Eden asked, as Jude still hadn’t moved from where he was sitting on the sun lounger, and he held out his hand for Jude to take.

“Yeah,” he reached out and grabbed Eden’s hand as he stood up from the lounger.

The two of them walked along the end of the sun loungers, in front of the rows of empty loungers. Nearly everyone else had already headed away and the beach was peacefully quiet, with only the rushing sound of the water flooding in across the sand and then back out. Eden paused for a second, breathing in the salty seawater air and feeling the light breeze across his face. Jude had paused too; he seemed to be lagging slightly as they started to walk again. The grip of his hand around Eden’s felt a little too tight. When he turned to look at him, his cheeks were a little flushed pink and Eden could tell he had spent some time in the sun.

Jude was trying not to hold on too tightly to Eden’s hand; his head felt kind of fuzzy, the way it did when he drank red wine on an empty stomach. But he had eaten today… He’d had an omelette, and chips, along with the sangria, and then ice cream, and pineapple. But the thought of the food he’d eaten hours ago made him feel kind of queasy. In fact, everything around him was making him feel unsettled. His face felt like it was on fire, and his mouth felt very dry. He stumbled slightly on the sand, and felt Eden’s hand tighten to prevent him from falling.

“Whoa, you okay?” Eden asked, stopping and almost pulling Jude alongside him to check.

“Yeah,” Jude lied, trying to laugh, but it sounded oddly forced. “Tripped over my own feet!” Eden seemed to take that at face value, sand wasn’t the easiest thing to walk on.

Jude could feel his head beginning to throb – he couldn’t understand it; maybe he had drunk more than he’d realised at lunch time? But he was sure they’d only ordered one pitcher between them, and they’d shared it – there was no way he could still be drunk from half a pitcher of sangria! It wasn’t even full strength. But the whooshing, thumping in his head was growing stronger, and he was starting to feel his feet and legs going numb, becoming more and more difficult to have full control of. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage like he was sprinting rather than just ambling along the beach. He tried to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath in through his nose, trying to clear some of the weird sensation.

“Jude?” He heard Eden’s voice, but it was reverberating oddly in the space between his ears; like Eden was shouting from the end of a very long tunnel. “Jude? Are you okay?” He felt Eden’s hand squeeze tighter on his, and tried to squeeze back to communicate, but the messages from his brain to the rest of his body didn’t seem to be working too well.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and was steered somewhere, and then forced to sit down, underneath his thighs he could feel cool stone or bricks. He couldn’t tell whether his eyes were closed, or just not working properly; the thumping in his head seemed to be throwing his balance, even though he knew that he was now sitting down.

“Take a deep breath in,” he heard Eden again, and a hand on his thigh, grounding him, “and out.” Jude followed Eden’s instructions, but the swirling sliding feeling was getting worse. His insides seemed to be rolling over and over, somehow connected to his lost sense of balance. He could tell that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“What’s going on Jude?” Eden asked, he sounded worried and Jude felt bad at the concern he was causing.

“I… feel funny…” He was surprised that he could even get words out, but thankful that he managed.

“What kind of funny?” Eden questioned further. Now the whole of Jude felt like he was on a helter skelter, going round and round, unable to be controlled.

“Oooh, I gotta lie down,” Jude mumbled, sliding from the solid stone he was sitting on, down onto warm sand.

“Oh, oh okay! Here, let me help,” Eden picked up quickly, almost cradling Jude’s head and gently helping him to lie on the sand. He could feel the cold of the wall he’d been sitting on pressing against his back; he didn’t quite know why he wanted to lie down, but there was something about being on the ground – there wasn’t anywhere else to fall to.

The warmth that he’d felt earlier had intensified; he felt like he was sitting right next to an open bonfire. He was taking slow breaths in the hope that the unsteadiness would settle.

It seemed to take a lifetime but the swirling sensation calmed around him, but his insides still felt like they were on a rollercoaster.

“Jude?” Eden was trying very hard not to panic, but right now his boyfriend was lying on the sand, and not responding much. Jude’s cheeks and forehead were rosy pink, and Eden could see his chest moving and he inhaled and exhaled. Then out of the corner of Eden’s eye, he saw something – a twitch, or jerk – that wasn’t quite natural. Eden moved a little, and just in time.

“Mmmmmmmhuuuuuurrrrrrggggggllllk…” Jude’s mouth had opened and his chest jerked once more, the muscles in his torso tightening as a gush of liquid vomit spilled onto the sand.

“Oh shit,” Eden had retracted his hands for a second, before returning one to under Jude’s head and the other towards his back. Jude hadn’t been able to warn Eden, it had happened far too quickly; his mouth had gone from bone dry to oversalivating in an instant. He could tell that he wasn’t done – his muscles still clenching and heaving.

“Hnnnnngggguuuuuuuurrrrlllllkk!” Another spray of sick burst passed his lips onto the sand; he coughed, spitting extra saliva out.

“You’re okay Jude,” Eden said, but he wasn’t convinced he was – this had come on out of nowhere! Eden stroked one hand across Jude’s forehead and felt the sweltering heat. “Oh God Jude – you’re burning!”

“Hot…” Jude whispered, trying to stop his stomach from revolting.

“You’re far too hot, and not in the good way!” Eden told him. Eden could feel himself panicking, his chest tightening as he looked down at his semi-conscious boyfriend. “Oh Jude… What do I do?” He looked at Jude, his hands were trembling as he touched one of Jude’s arms. As he did so, the canvas bag that had been on his shoulder fell onto the sand, and with that an idea crossed his mind.

“Okay, okay, Jude, you just – you just stay there,” Eden said, rather reluctantly as Jude wasn’t up to moving anywhere. He rifled through the bag and pulled out one of the cheap beach towels that they had bought on the first day of their holiday.

Leaving Jude lying on the sand, Eden gripped the towel and went charging down the beach towards the water. Ignoring the salty scent from the sea, he dumped the towel in the water, making sure that it was thoroughly wet through. Then he scooped it up, not bothering to wring it out and made his way back up to where Jude was lying. Opening up the towel, he laid it across Jude’s skin, avoiding the puddle of sick as he knelt down next to him.

“Alright – Jude, d’you think you could sit up if I help you?” Eden said, putting his hand back on Jude’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Nnnngghhh….” Jude groaned, not particularly able to verbalise anything coherent; but Eden had made his mind up. He had to get Jude back to the apartment – even if that meant having to hoist him onto his back and carry him. Though he really did hope that he wouldn’t puke down him if it came to that.

“Okay, right, Jude,” Eden fastened his grip on Jude’s bicep and slipped his other hand into the gap at his neck. “1, 2, 3…” Eden warned Jude and then pulled him upright; Jude let out a little groan, and his head flopped forwards as soon as he was up. Eden wrapped the damp towel around the other side of Jude, ignoring the sand that was sticking to his skin.

“Uuuurrrggghhnnn…” Jude’s eyes were closed and his face was red.

“Okay Jude,” Eden said, sitting next to Jude and holding him up. “Take some deep breaths.” Eden was watching him carefully, trying to detect any sign of him getting better, or worse. He heard Jude take a few breaths, but they were ragged and gasping. “That’s it, you’re doing well.”

“Hmm! Hmmmrrk!” Jude heaved, his chest jerked and Eden heard the rush of liquid coursing up Jude’s throat. “Hmmmmrrrllllk!” It splattered messily between Jude’s legs, and Eden winced at the way Jude’s belly muscles kept clenching – long after he was bringing up anything.

“Oh honey…” Eden sighed, pushing back Jude’s fringe from where it was flopping into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay…” Eden was speaking out of hope more than any kind of certainty. “Here…” Eden fumbled with one hand in amongst the debris that had fallen out of the canvas bag. Knowing that he’d be cursing later on that he’d allowed both of their phone to have fallen out into the sand; he found the bottled water that they carried everywhere. “Here…” He repeated, clumsily unscrewing the lid with one hand, the lid rolling onto the sand, then raising the bottle to Jude’s lips. “You just need to take a little sip Jude.”

“Mmmmnnn…” Jude groaned, trying to turn his head away from the water bottle.

“No Jude,” Eden insisted, pressing the bottle back to his boyfriend’s lips. “Just a tiny sip.”

“Don’ wanna….” Jude mumbled, still trying to turn his head away.

“Little sip, little sip,” Eden put his other hand behind Jude’s head to keep him from wiggling away. “Little sip…” He held the bottle just high enough for a small amount of water to pass his lips. “Good, good job.” Eden encouraged as Jude swallowed the little amount of water. “Okay, okay Jude – we need to get back… I think you’ve got heatstroke, we have to get you cooled down properly.” Eden said. “You think you could walk if I helped you?” Jude didn’t reply, instead he simply leant his head in towards Eden, still rather limp.

“I guess that means no,” Eden mumbled, his arm was still around Jude’s shoulders. “Right, well…” Eden was thinking hard, and there was only one solution to the predicament he was in.

Using his free hand, he picked up the debris from his bag that had landed on the sand and shoved them back into the canvas. He pulled the bag over his shoulder, far enough up that he hoped it wouldn’t fall down.

“Right, okay – Jude, you need to listen to me,” Eden tapped Jude on the cheek, “can you let me know you’re listening?”

“Mmmm…” Jude hummed.

“That’s good enough, I guess,” Eden sighed. “Jude, I’m gonna help you up onto the low wall right behind you, then you can sit there for a few minutes, okay?” Eden gripped his hands under Jude’s armpits, holding tight. “1, 2, 3…” Eden counted, before hauling Jude up and making sure he was planted onto the low wall he’d been leaning against. Eden exhaled deeply, glad that Jude was managing to stay upright, if a little slumped. Jude’s eyes were still closed and the red flush across his cheeks.

“Jude?” Eden knelt down right in front of Jude, which felt rather precarious at the moment – he wasn’t entirely convinced Jude was done throwing up. “Jude, I need you to help me with this.” Eden was almost pleading with him. “I’m going to kneel down in front of you, and I need you to wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I’m gonna piggy back you to the apartment, but I need you to hold tight, can you do that? Jude?”

“Yeah…” Jude mumbled, and Eden could have cried with relief.

“Good, good, right – okay,” Eden gushed. “Let’s do it.” Eden turned around, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick that Jude had already created. “Come on…” He was glad to feel Jude’s arms snaking around his neck, and he gripped at Jude’s thighs as they tightened at his waist. “Good, right – hold on tight.”

Holding so tightly on to Jude’s legs that he was sure he was probably hurting him, but that didn’t matter, as Eden steeled himself and pushed through his legs until he was on his feet. Jude groaned slightly at the movement, but he continued jnto hold on to Eden’s neck, which was reassuring.

“Okay,” Eden said, slightly strained; he wasn’t particularly strong, but this was the only way he was going to get Jude back. “You just – hold – on…” Eden began to walk, stepping off the sand onto the pavement. “And please…” Eden struggled, “try to warn me – if you’re gonna puke again…”

Jude hummed slightly, his head had flopped onto the flat of Eden’s shoulder, but his hands were still holding on around Eden’s neck.

Eden felt like his lungs were on fire. He wasn’t anywhere near as fit as he could be – and he certainly wasn’t used to carrying his boyfriend on his back for so long. He was sure he was receiving some funny looks from passers-by, but he started focusing only on breathing, and his feet moving forward.

Every few steps he tried to remind himself that he was nearly there, his arms were beginning to ache and tremble from supporting Jude’s legs. He was so nearly there though; he could see the front of their apartment blocks. Jude was still clutching on to him and Eden couldn’t tell if he’d fallen asleep or not.

He navigated into the lift, and then out again at their floor; he was dripping with sweat, and he knew had to put Jude down so he could get the key to the apartment door.

“Jude?” He panted breathlessly, when there was no response he gave Jude a little jiggle on his back and he heard Jude moan. “Jude? I need you to try and stand up… I can’t get the key without my hands…” Eden could hear Jude making a small huffing noise. “I’m going to put you down…”

Eden had backed next to the railing at the other side of the hallway, intending to get Jude to hold on to that. Gently, he let go of Jude’s legs, which dropped from Eden’s waist; Eden felt his hands loosen, then let go from around his neck.

“That’s it,” Eden breathed encouragingly; but almost as soon as Jude’s feet hit the ground, his knees crumpled and he ended up in a semi heap on the ground. “Oh Jude…” He sighed, rummaging with both hands in the canvas bag that had been hooked in between himself and Jude. He successfully located the key, stuck it in the lock and shoved hard – as soon as the door was open, Eden went back to Jude.

“Come on,” Eden said, looping his arm behind Jude’s and gripping tight. “We’re going to get you in, and in a cool shower to bring your temperature down.” Eden hauled Jude up, and practically dragged him inside the room, using his foot to kick the door shut. “Come on, right into the bath.” He said, using the light coming from the balcony doors to navigate his way into the bathroom. “Okay…” Eden lowered Jude onto the closed toilet seat, knowing that would prop him up until he could get the lights on. “Right…”

Eden put the bathroom light on, Jude was leaning back – his face and skin still redder than usual. He collected the bath towel provided by the apartment, and found a clean pair of underwear for Jude to change into, he stacked them neatly, before pulling the shower head down from its holder. He had to navigate Jude into the bath first though; he ran his hands over his face.

“Okay Jude, lift your leg,” Eden told him, picking up one of Jude’s legs and putting it over the edge of the bath, then repeating the action with the other one. “I’m going to help you slide in, okay?” Jude was at a kind of strange angle, with his legs in the bath, but it allowed Eden to hook him under the armpits and slide him in. He landed a little harder than intended, but Eden wasn’t complaining. “Okay…” Eden let out a few deep breaths, thankful that he’d managed so far. “Right…” Eden made to turn the shower on, but just before he turned the control, he heard a noise. Turning back to Jude in a flash, Eden saw his chest jerk suddenly.

“Hmmmmrkk! Hmmmm! Bllllahhhhuuuurrrgggllllllee!” Jude vomited so forcefully that it landed on his legs, coating all down his front. “Brrrruuuuaaarrrp!” He let out an empty belch as he rested his head back.

“Oh God Jude…” Eden pushed Jude’s sticky fringe away from his forehead, still feeling the burning heat. “Well, at least you held it in until I’d put you down.” Eden chuckled, moving to turn the water on.

Ensuring it was a cool, but not freezing stream of water, Eden began to wash Jude down. Initially, he was concerned with getting the puke off Jude, but once he was clean, he was using the water to bring down his temperature, even directing the water over Jude’s head and allowing it to soak into his hair. He continued moving the shower head up and down Jude’s body, making particularly sure that he covered all of Jude’s torso and his arms. He went up and down, over and over, until Jude was beginning to shiver where he was laying in the bath.

His eyes were still closed, and goosebumps were forming on his chest and forearms. He turned off the water, replacing the shower head back into its holder on the wall.

“We need to get you out now,” Eden told him, trying to grip Jude’s forearms, which was more difficult as he was slippery from the water. “Please, try hold on to me.” He begged.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get Jude out and back on to the lid of the toilet, but once he was there he wrapped the large bath towel around Jude. He rubbed his hand up and down the towel, drying Jude off; Jude’s head had flopped forwards and he seemed to be nearly asleep.

“Bed – that’s what you need,” Eden instructed, trying to pull Jude up and struggling to get him to the bed.

Jude hummed a little as he flopped onto the bed, still enrobed by the towel. His cheeks had lost some of their ruddy flush, but he was still warmer than he should be. Eden bundled himself to their sink and poured some cold water into a glass, collecting the cleanest looking teaspoon and carried it over to the edge of the bed.

Kneeling down, he dipped the spoon in the water and then pressed it to Jude’s lips – which parted instinctively to allow the tiny dribble of water to enter his mouth.

“Good, that’s good,” Eden muttered, “just little bits of water – I’ll keep giving you little bits of water until you’re feeling better.” He spooned another amount of water into Jude’s mouth and saw him swallow. “Well done Jude.” Eden settled himself further, his legs already beginning to cramp up from kneeling down.

Jude let out a breath that sounded quite relaxed, and Eden could swear that he heard Jude try to say “thanks”. He smiled as he watched Jude’s chest rising and falling slowly.

It looked like it was going to be a long night.

#emeto #emeto fiction #sickfic #illness kink #puke #puking #male character puking #sickness #heatstroke #vomiting #oc fiction #ocs #Jude #Eden #its-a-goddamn-heartbreak

[lubabirras]

mais alguns headcanons das meninas da M.E

Lily Evans

People think of her as the mediator of the group, when in fact she has a rebellious spirit that can often land her in trouble

Lily would never hurt anyone intentionally, but a little civil disobedience is her shit

James was just one of many boys in their year with a crush on her

She was intelligent, gorgeous and witty with a sharp sense of humour

She didn't really like Quidditch, but she played muggle sports, primarily football

Lily had a music collection to rival Sirius's, and introduced him to most of his favourite bands

Her favourite musician was Elton John, and she hated James Bond movies

She was very good at drawing, and doodled all over the edges of her scrolls

Lily never hated James, but she found his pranks endlessly tiring, especially when they were younger and many of them targeted people James had never even met or had quarrel with

She wasn't the type to hold a grudge, and told people straight up when she was angry with them

Her first friend at Hogwarts was Remus, and she considered him her best friend

When Severus called her a mudblood she slapped him. Hard.

Lily never pictured herself settling down or having children until she fell in love with James

If it hadn't been for the war, she would have entered either teaching or government. Headmistress or Minister of Magic sounded like good jobs to her

Alice Fortescue

At first, Alice was very insecure about being sorted into Gryffindor

She had always seen herself best suited to Hufflepuff, and was worried she wouldn't fulfil certain expectations of someone in her house

It didn't take her long to settle in - she saved Sirius from a potentially catastrophic Quidditch accident only a few weeks in, and it was decided that the sorting hat had definitely made the right choice

Alice fell in love with Frank Longbottom the second she met him

At first it was a silly, childish, first crush type of love. But when they became firm friends as the years went on, Frank became her favourite person in the whole world

She fancied herself a watercolour painter - no one ever had the heart to tell her that she just wasn't that good at it

Alice's family had always been rich, and she took her friends on holiday almost every summer to their beach house

She was the kind of girl who was liked by everyone and yet still worried about whether or not she was good enough for other people

She asked Frank out in her fifth year, and had to literally sprint back to her dorm to hyperventilate when he said yes

Alice was so sweet that her friends felt they had to protect her, but she was quick and sharp and easily able to fend for herself

She was the initiator in her relationship with Frank - she asked him out first, she kissed him first - the only thing he beat her to was actually proposing, and she was planning to do it herself the next day anyway

Alice always wanted a big family. She doted on Neville and would've had at least three more kids if she'd had the chance

Even after the war, when she couldn't often recognise her own mother, she always knew when Neville was around, and she held Frank's hand every night before bed

Marlene McKinnon

When she was little, she somewhat resembled a street urchin. Her hair was huge, frizzy and wild, and she was always covered in dirt from playing in the garden

One of six children, she grew up loud and energetic, fighting for attention and conversation at dinner every night

Marlene had no volume regulation, and accidentally yelled directly into her friends' ears whenever she tried to speak

She was somewhat eclectic, and had wardrobes and drawers overflowing with random, uncoordinated clothing, and shelves piled with knickknacks she never let herself throw away

A talented Quidditch player, she was a beater alongside Sirius for almost her whole time at Hogwarts

She had a seemingly endless appetite, and kept snacks in a draw beside her bed for whenever she woke up hungry in the night

Marlene owned a horribly bedraggled cat. It was blind in one eye, its fur looked matted no matter how thoroughly it was brushed, and it liked to bite people. She loved it so much.

She loved to listen and dance to music, but was incredibly picky, and played the same five records on repeat

Never a stranger to evening detention, she had a habit of punching people who pissed her off. And she had a very strong right hook

Although she never learnt to drive, her dad taught her how to build and repair cars and motorbikes, and Sirius always let her ride on the back of his bike whenever she asked

Dorcas was her best friend in the world, and she told her every secret, even the ones she wasn't really supposed to share

Strongly opinionated and absolutely unapologetic, she was known to loudly debate random students on something trivial over lunch

Her teachers all found her somewhat exhausting, as she could never quite pay attention and had a tendency to chatter, but was naturally bright and achieved good grades without even really trying

She always had the attention of boys in her year, and knew exactly how to make a certain Sirius Black very jealous whenever she wanted to

When Severus called Lily a mudblood, Marlene also slapped him. She also kicked him in the balls for good measure.

Dorcas Meadowes

One of the most popular girls in her year, everyone liked Dorcas for one reason or another

She was funny and outspoken, and served for a while as the school's Quidditch commentator, before McGonagall fired her for continuously commenting on how the players' bums looked in their kit trousers. Many regarded her as the best commentator they ever had.

She didn't know that she was bisexual until she fell in love with Emmeline Vance when she was 17, although looking back she suspected she'd had a crush on Marlene in her first year without realizing

The first crush she remembered actually being aware of was when she found herself quite in love with Edgar Bones when she was twelve - although this was only brief, as she soon befriended his sister Amelia, and decided it would be weird to continue to fancy him

Dorcas's mother was everything to her, and she always thought of her as her biggest inspiration

Super athletic but absolutely cannot swim at all

She was the head of the duelling club for a while, as she was by far the strongest dueller of her friends, but quit just shy of a year later, as commitments easily bored her

Dorcas was mysteriously always able to score concert tickets no matter how high in demand they were, and was worshipped for this quality

She was very well dressed, and kept stacks of fashion magazines under her bed to keep up with trends

Much like Marlene, she often responded to outrage using violence. And although she wasn't as easily riled up as her best friend, her wrath was something to be feared

She once spent a month in detention for smashing her broom over a guy's head when he made sexist comments about a female player on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team

Dorcas had begun studying almost full time to become a Dragonologist by the time she graduated Hogwarts

She was eager to join the Order, however, and was one of the first of her friends to enrol

Her duelling skills proved incredibly useful, and she took down more deatheaters than any of her friends. She is regarded today as a war hero.

#MENINAS MAROTAS

[sunnyrinka]

Sugaya and Hayami: Perception

A set of modeling clay presented in numerous colours sat in front of Hayami, on the workshop table. She promptly shaped the clay into a detailed sculpture of an alligator, marking scales with a designing knife; she goes to lengths of sculpting the the eyeballs, tail designs, and a faint ombre shade of teal made with her notion of colour. Despite the clay pieces and designs being small, her nimble fingers finds its way through. They move quickly, yet figuratively in a matter where Hayami has full control of. 

The alligator is passed on to Sugaya. The watercolour palette set in customisable colour, he put his own apprehension of shading into play. The sketch pad stood upright, he sketched first, before the tip of the brush makes gentle strokes. Out of the concoction and variations, he turns Hayami’s model into a finnesse on paper. Alongside the detailed sketch, accompanied by the colour perception and unique texture. 

Here in Sugaya’s workshop, the crisp air casted an orange glow. The materials were sorted orderly, shelf by shelf, or inserted in a cloth pocket that hung on the walls or scattered by the two wooden desks he uses to work. A rack stood where he stores his work, and coruscated above, he hangs his paintings. The sight was one fascinating to see that constantly birds dwell on his windowsill. 

Hayami watches as he paints. Absorbed, she sat still, a cool gaze fixed and her eyes showing attitude of bewilderment and awe for her friend. “I assume your emotions comes into play when painting?” Hayami comments. She takes her own experience from dance; letting yourself go and expressing the devotion through the moves that is escorted by the music. 

“Of course,” Sugaya replies. “But there’s not much to it. You just have to let go of coherent compulsory that may be stopping you.” 

Letting yourself go, Sugaya likes to think also. A matter of displaying your expressive feelings and virtuosity behaviour onto a canvas. Hayami is amazed, by the formation and presentation is interesting. In a way, it goes down to the matter of presenting what you want, and expressing the inner you.

“That’s why I’ve always thought art was my thing,” he goes on. “It’s a lot more alluring to me. Maths, for example, there’s too much to think about. Barely any colour comes into surface.” 

Hayami nods. “You sure do have a gift.” 

“You’re surprisingly good at modeling figures too,” Sugaya says, though his focus averted to both the conversation and his painting. “But I guess I should’ve seen it coming.” 

“It’s technique,” Hayami remarks. “You have to move flexibly and keep attentive to what’s happening.” 

“I can’t do that.” Sugaya, Hayami, and their friends all came to the conclusion that zoning out is a part of Sugaya’s nature that won’t be easy to snap out of. Though different to Hayami, who’s attention stays averted to whatever task, she’s more straightforward and quick. In contrary, the two click on a personal level where not much conversation has to be carried out, but rather the fascination of each other’s doings. 

#writing #scenarios #assassination classroom #assassination classroom headcanons #assassination classroom scenarios #assclass #assclass scenarios #assclass headcanons #ansatsu kyoushitsu #sugaya sousuke #hayami rinka #my writing

[fallenfurther]

Untouched by human hands

I have completed Whumptober! It was an incredible and hard challenge but I’m so glad I did it. It was reading whumptober last year that made me want to start writing fanfic, which is why I wanted to do it this year. I’m certain that my writing has improved in this past year and joining this community has been so fun and they have helped me through these unprecedented times.

This whumptober post is going to be posted differently as the first part contains no whump and I hope people would enjoy the description, so I have wrotten a soft ending alongside the whump ending. Anyone who wants to read the whump, and it’s the softest whump I’ve written this month, can use the links at the end to read it.  AO3 or FFN

Thank you for all those who have read my other posts, liked them and commented on them. Enjoy the last one!

Whumptober prompt 28

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The breeze danced through his hair as Virgil left the trail. In his pocket his grandfather’s compass rubbed gently against his thigh as he strayed into the trees. It was everything Virgil needed to get back to the car park. Small shrubs brushed against his trousers as birdsong drifted through the leaves. Enforced downtime had never felt this good. The tension Grandma had tried to massage from his shoulders two nights ago was unfurling with every step. Reaching up, Virgil grabbed a branch, the bark rough and flaky beneath his grip as he ducked beneath it. A deep exhale and he was at one with the forest. The way the light lit up the green of the leaves, creating shadows that danced around him, set off the artist within him. His hand fell on the satchel, his sketchbook, pastels, watercolour pencils and charcoal all housed safely within it. It also contained a packed lunch, snacks and water to keep him going. 

Every step took him further into the untouched wilderness. The terrain headed down the hill, and Virgil knew where he wanted to go. The trail took people past a spectacular waterfall, with gushing water and a roar that filled every inch of you. So many artists, as well as a younger Virgil, had sat there at some point. The trail he’d left was the one that went the furthest north. Virgil had trekked beyond it, up to the ridge and back down so he could join the brook before it joined with another and became a waterfall. He wanted to see the part of the park that was untouched by human hands, where only the rangers went. It was dangerous to leave the trails, but he was prepared, and had International Rescue of speed dial. He had a tracker on his belt and his comm on his wrist to be safe. Though all notifications were off. Only priority one calls could reach him today. 

The trees started to thin as he reached the brook, its babbling called out to Virgil long before he could see it. A smile graced Virgil's face as his eyes took it all in. Its murmuring was soothing, the cool clear liquid inviting as the sunlight reflected off the surface. Light spray sparkled like diamonds where the water hit the odd protruding rock. There was a light foam where the water swirled, chortling as it passed. Virgil settled himself down against a tree, the sun warm on his face, and retrieved his sketchbook. The complete lack of human noise was a comfort. So often he was faced with screams of agony, fear and grief, to hear only the soft sounds of the forest was a blessing. His heart opened and healed with each brush of the charcoal pencil. The rocks and trees came to life on his page. When a little Blue Grosbeak joined him for lunch, he managed to sketch it by feeding it some of the sunflower seeds Grandma always slipped into his bag. He was able to immortalise its colourful plumage before it flew away. 

Virgil was about to close his sketchpad and move on when the great majestic beast came to the brook to drink. Virgil froze, his eyes meeting the deep brown orbs of the stag. The stag held his gaze, before bending down to drink, an eye still on Virgil. With the utmost care, Virgil turned the page in the pad, before slowly reaching for the pencil. Every detail of the magnificent creature was something he wanted to capture, but he feared now much time he had. Virgil focused on the face and the magnificent antlers, his hand making swift movements that were hidden to the stag by the knees he was using to prop up the pad. Awestruck, Virgil could barely dare to breathe, for fear of spooking his subject. The deer took a step closer, dipping his nose deeper into the brook. Every movement it made was cautious. It was on high alert. It knew Virgil was a predator, a danger, a threat. Virgil’s eyes left the drawing to examine the stag again. He observed the muscles of the legs, the contours in the skin and the texture of his fur. Virgil could even discern the velvet on the antlers. 

Soft Ending: 

Virgil’s pencil danced along the page, capturing the stag in all its glory. Raising his head once again, the stag’s eye met Virgil’s. A moment passed before the stag stood tall and walked away. Releasing the breath Virgil had been holding, he relaxed against the tree and smiled down at the sketch. It had been an honour to have been able to see such a shy animal. 

Whump Ending: Read on AO3 or FFN 

#whumptober2020 #no.28 #hunting season #thunderbirds are go #fic #Virgil Tracy #walk in the woods #forest #relaxing #stag

[sylleboi]

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 | 30/03/20

For this week, we have a new workshop to do, tying into the first brief (Pick & Mix), focusing on surrealism and the theories linked with this by psychologist Sigmund Freud. 

Attached was the following text written by our teacher to introduce this workshop and the tasks that come with it;

“After a successful week with the post it note comic, and some excellent write ups that are really well documented, this week's task revisits some of the work from Term 1 (as we started in our drawing sessions) with some of the ideas stemming from Surrealism, dada and the psychoanalytical theories of Sigmund Freud.

This task is presented by Bristol based artist & animator Will Barras who will be offering commentary on your work at the end of the week. Follow the PDF attached and work through the tasks at your own pace. You have all week so take your time and experiment as much as possible.

We have more challenges to come, so try to put time into these as they will form the main body of your experimental work.

Upload your results and be as creative and imaginative as possible, but most importantly let go and embrace the ride.

Good luck peoples!”

Consider the primary objectives of a Final Project:

Collect information (Research) 

Recall knowledge (Use learning)

Apply understanding through application and review (Propose & make exciting work and evaluate it)

I find that the above points refer to a simplified process of working through meet the final goal that is set by the FMP, althought this also applies to workshops and side projects that gets documented on this blog, as well as the productionfile.

Question: Are you doing these things and how can we improve and develop this?

I feel that I already do these, althought I yet have to further improve on evaluating the things I do, asking “Why” more often.

Answer: Experimentation - (The action or process of trying out new or revisiting ideas, method and activities)

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This weeks aims & objectives:

To review basic principles of automatic practice in relation to a specific artist

To experiment with working from abstract starting points

Be generate experimental work that shows progression of learning

To compare your work to the work of others

The surrealist/dada movement was an art movement, as well as a literary movement, that began around 1915 - 1917. Some of the key artists leading this movement was Hannah Höch, André Breton & Max Ernst. The movement aimed to break free from the chains that weighed down everyone during the great depression- The artistic field had now begun to evolve into a playground for ones’ imagination, challenging what used to not be acceptable in common culture.

Accident & chance

Embracing Improvisation (What does improvisation mean to you?)

BEING AUTOMATIC!

Surrealist automatism is a method of art-making in which the artist suppresses conscious control over the making process, allowing the unconscious mind to have great sway

Unlocking the unconscious mind.

In Sigmund Freud's psychoanalytic theory of personality, theunconscious mind is a reservoir of feelings, thoughts, urges, and memories that are outside of our conscious awareness.

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𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍:

This weeks challenge for experimentation is bought to you by Bristol based urban artist and animator Will Barras. Your task is to analyse his work, considering the effect of the visual language (how he uses line and tone for example). Find out about him and considering the aforementioned surrealist principles write a short statement to suggest how he uses those principles in his own work. 

Will Barras

Illustrator, artist and animation director, Will Barras, currently lives and works in London, althought he grew up in Birmingham and later moved to Bristol to study graphic design. He quickly became known for being part of a group of young artists, working within Bristol’s street art scene. This then led to him appearing in a book titled “Scrawl”, alongside the artists Steff Plaetx and Duncan Jago, becoming a core and founding member of the Scrawl collective. “Scrawl”, originally published in 1999, was an influencial book made to document a new movement in street art, graphics and illustration. 

Barras was selected to be one of the original artists for this collective. He was selected due to being renouned for his methods of portraying fluidity in movement. He also worked closely with creating pieces that were more narrativly driven compositions, incorperating such narratives into his line work. Barras’s unique composition of these three key elements, made his mark as an artist all the more inspiring, pushing new ideas against the grain of classic art. All of this has led his work to become staple pieces in many galleries across the globe. This includes Asia, Europe and the U.S.

He has painted a variety of different murals around the world, within this mix is one that he did with the members of his Bristol group at Tate Modern’s tubine hall, as well as one that he did for Pow!Wow! Festival in Taipei. In the studio Th1ng, located in central London, he worked as the head of animation.

Visual analysis and study:

His artwork has a very recongnizable style and feel to it. It has an urban flare to it, making it feel very fitting within the scene of street art.

“A big barn I painted in Dumfries with Amy Winstanley for the Spring Fling festival and Recoat gallery based in Glasgow.

http://www.amywinstanley.com

http://www.spring-fling.co.uk

http://www.recoatdesign.com”

The painting below has little information about it, as for what I can find, but somehow the piece almost speaks for itself. The play on perspective, composition and values is very eyecathing. It impresses me how he is able to convey motion to such an extend that you can almost just imagine it moving before your eyes, but perhaps that’s just me.

“#divinestyler #defmask #gammaproforma #kallenbachgallery”

I attemped to do some simple continuous warping animation to convey what I mean a little better:

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𝖁𝖎𝖘𝖚𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖞:

01: Using a wide brush create a large sheet of accidental/automatic/ unconscious blots & splatters, organics shapes and curvaceous marks using a range of coloured ink/paint. The brighter and more acidic the better!

Because of the fact that I don’t have paper made for paints/ink, I decided to try doing this task digitally- simulating the analogue look of watercolour or watered down ink, or even arcrylics.

I did this by using a variety of different watercolour brushes, made to emulate the look of the analogue mediums. I used them as randomly as I possibly could, trying not to plan where I would put the next brush stroke.

Once I had put down all the paint stokes, I then went over it while the layer was locked with a big soft edged brush, layering up different colours until I was happy with how it looked.

02: Make 3-4 sheets of these and then let them dry.

Digital 01:

Digital 02:

03: Then using fineliner develop these marks into faces/characters/scenes by adding details/features and developing these into detail illustrations that are spontaneous and free flowing.

For the linework, I primarily used one single brush; hard edged and circular. (The one selected in the picture below)

I chose this for the reason being that I have found it to be very responsive to the use of a drawing tablet & pen. It does a good job at making expressive lines with its tilt sensitivity, making it a pleasure to use; It reminds me of how brush pens work and feel.

Here are a few tests on some of the lines I can create with it;

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Digital 01: 

Digital 02:

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Digital 02: Process

1. I have always found that beginning these blob doodles are the most diffucult for me. Perhaps because it takes me a little while to really get into the flow of continously seeing images in the randomness.

2. I began from the left, slowly working my way to the right and the top, since I felt that I had more clear lines to go from being around the edge of the paint.

3. Eventually I braved it and went right for the middle of the piece. This was the turning point for me in the process of doing this. It enabled me to truly let get, have fun, and not feel intimidated and nervous to do the next doodle.

4. This is when I began drawing creatures of the sea, slowly building up a story/narrative.

5. I don’t actually remember what I was even thinking at this point anylonger- I was simply just letting the pen guide me around the canvas; letting it all flow together however it felt as to do so.

6. I began to delve into the little details. I felt as if they would add to the general flow of the piece; being busy, yet in a manner that lets your eyes wander with curiosity.

7. I was now moving on to doing the right side of the piece. I had a little more trouble visualising the top right corner, so I did that last.

8. At this point I felt a little stuck as to what to do, hence it being, yet again, dedicated for adding some more little details here and there.

9. Eventually I overcame the frustration I had built up and took to do the right side of the artwork.

10. I tried to convey motion and flow by the way the animals are positioned and posed, trying to make it calm in the middle where the girl is, and then busy/chaotic the further away you get from her.

11. This second to last step was, again, for adding detail. I wanted to fill up any bits that I felt appeared too empty and spaced out, so to no disrupt the feeling of flow in the painting.

12. With the inking done and rendered to my satisfaction, the last step was to play around with colours.

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Digital 01: Colour variations

Digital 02: Colour variations

04: Scan/photograph and upload to Moodle.

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𝕱𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓:

Which of these words would you use when discussing the work of Will Barras and your own art pieces:

I would most definitly use;

Organic/Fluid

Figurative

Automatic

On top of these I would probably add;

Harmonic

Dynamic

Epochal

Visionary

Can you construct a comparative sentence/paragraph using at least 5 of these words. What are the differences and similarities between the works you have created. What conclusions did you make about this experimentation?