#been a while since i did a rough painting... wow drawing gets so easy when i dont have to do details

[makowcy]

about an hour painting so i dont forget how to draw

#i've picked up crochet and thats the only thing i've been doing for the past 2 weeks #grian #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 10 #been a while since i did a rough painting... wow drawing gets so easy when i dont have to do details #this was meant to be a warmup but its not like id draw anything after than so might as well #my art

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)

“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹

I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen. 

I picked it up and inspected the damages.

There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.

MC: Can this… still be saved…?

Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.

Osborn: What a big commotion.

Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?

I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.

MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.

Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.

He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.

MC: Is it too damaged to fix?

Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.

He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.

This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.

MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?

Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?

MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?

MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?

Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.

Osborn: You want to help me fix it?

MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.

MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?

MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?

He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.

Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.

Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.

Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.

The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.

MC: Oh, okay.

Osborn: Take it.

My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.

Osborn: I'm waiting.

I took the toolbox from him and opened it.

I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.

I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.

MC: What's this?

Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.

MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.

Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...

Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.

Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?

MC: Not for now.

Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.

MC: Okay.

First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.

This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.

When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.

Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?

I hesitated.

MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.

MC: I don't know if it works the same…

Osborn: See my demonstration first then.

He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.

I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.

Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.

He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.

It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.

Osborn: Get it?

MC: Mmhm...

I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.

After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.

MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?

Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.

My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.

MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?

Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.

Osborn: I'll think about it.

MC: Does this even need to be considered?

MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!

MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!

Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.

The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.

MC: What's wrong?

Osborn: You got something on your face.

I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.

Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…

MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!

Osborn: What gives?

MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!

Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?

Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.

I was taken aback, nonetheless.

MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!

Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!

MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!

I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.

Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.

And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.

Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.

MC: No moving!

Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.

Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.

MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!

MC: No use trying to escape!

I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.

MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?

Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.

Osborn: An air drawing?

MC: Dream on!

Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.

MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.

MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~

Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head. 

I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.

❖☆———————————★❖

I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder. 

Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.

Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.

The surroundings lapsed into silence.

I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.

I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.

I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Done?

I nodded.

Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?

Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?

I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.

MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!

He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.

Osborn: Happy now?

MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.

Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.

He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.

I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.

MC: ...What is it?

Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.

Mitt: Meow~ Meow~

The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.

I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!

MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!

I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.

A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.

Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.

MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.

Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: Just wait and see.

Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.

I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.

Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…

In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.

Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?

The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.

MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?

I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.

Osborn: Still wanna run?

❖☆———————————★❖

I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.

The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.

Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.

After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?

Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.

Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.

Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.

MC: !

MC: I touched it! How cute…

Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?

MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.

Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.

MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!

I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.

It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.

MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.

I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.

MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.

He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.

MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?

Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.

Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.

The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.

My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?

He quirked a brow.

Osborn: Why, you know me so well.

MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?

Osborn: You can say that.

MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?

Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.

Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.

MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.

Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?

MC: Huh? Thank me?

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.

Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?

MC: ……

I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.

Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?

As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.

I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.

MC: Then, that makes me happier now…

MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…

MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.

Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?

I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.

At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.

The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.

Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.

I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #黑色对峙 #Black VS Black

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be Verse: Hold Onto The Sunset Drabble/Oneshot

A/N: This is my go at Writer Wednesday, hosted by the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog . I've got this set in the future of the As It Should Be verse. I figured since Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons left off on a bit of a sad note I'd give you guys some fluff to tide you over until Ch 4!

It's 03:30 here and this is unedited so I might come back and see if something is egregiously wrong but otherwise this is going to stand.

Warnings: None? Aside from a polyam MMF relationship that's all fluff (with PDA) here!

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales [AO3]

The sand was warm beneath your toes as you shifted in your decidedly uneven folding chair. A few crushed beer cans littered the table but you were all too enthralled in your game of Hold ‘Em to care. The smell of charcoal and grilled food floats teasingly in the air. Santiago had abandoned your game to go and start grilling otherwise we won’t eat until the sun’s long gone. Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had handedly lost his last hand and consequently the rest of his money, to Frankie.

It was Jack’s turn to deal and you watch his large hands palm and manipulate the well-worn deck. The whirring sound of the cards folding together followed by the sharp tap against the table as he shuffled was calming and sounded as natural as the ocean waves licking at the beach did. You paused a moment before looking at your cards to try to gauge everyone else's reactions only to find three pairs of brown eyes and one pair of green eyes staring back at you. Laughter rang out across the table, that’s just what happens when you play poker with Statesmen agents and Delta Force vets. Schooling your facial expressions, you peel back the corners of your cards to see your hand: a Jack and 10 of spades.

“Call.” Came Tequila’s cheery drawl.

“Fold.” Ginger sighed and tossed her cards back to the center of the glass table.

“I’m getting another beer from the cooler. Does anyone else want one?”

Her question was met with chorus of ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’. She smiled then rolled her eyes and went about collecting the cold, wet cans from the cooler.

“Call.” Continues Jack with his trademark smirk.

“Call.” Frankie’s voice is a bit rough from having just downed the remainder of his beer.

You called wordlessly, your chips following the others’ as they clinked on the glass table top, then Jack dealt the flop: 9 of hearts, 8 of spades and Ace of diamonds.

Jack’s gaze was on you, gauging your reaction and wondering if you had an Ace to match the one on the table. The betting went around, Jack raised, a classic aggressive opening move from him, but you were all somewhat surprised when Frankie re-raised him. All eyes narrowed at Frankie. The man had a scary good poker face, keeping the tension out of his jaw and meeting everyone’s gaze with those brown puppy eyes of his. It was how he had trounced Santi earlier.

Ginger came back with your beers and set them down on the table before taking back her seat, watching in amusement. You called and Jack dealt the turn card: a Queen of spades.

“You waitin’ on a Jack there darlin’?”

Jack challenged and raised, his voice was rough honey as he tried to get a rise out of you.

You let a laugh spill from your lips and your own mischievous smirk lights a spark in your eye.

“Oh no, I’ve already got a Jack and you’re more than enough. I don’t think I could handle another.”

Frankie’s neutral face breaks into a wide grin and Jack’s mind starts spinning, trying to assess all of the possible meanings behind what you just said. The three of you call and Jack throws down the river: a 7 of spades. What were the fucking odds?

Tequila frowned then checked, Jack raised, Frankie called and you re-raised. A collection of groans were uttered across the table but they all ponied up anyways.

“Straight Flush. Pay up boys!”

You don’t even bother to hide the smugness in your voice. Tequila huffed and cracked his beer open.

“Santiago! Is the food done yet? I thought you said we’d be eating before the sun went down?”

He was exaggerating of course, it wasn’t nearly that late and the summer sun was slow to set over the water. Tequila got up to go and lick his wounds with Santiago around the grill. You got up as well, walking around and pressing a kiss to Frankie’s lips before Jack unceremoniously tugged you into his lap for a kiss as well and smiled.

“C’mere, darlin’ I want one too.”

His smile is good natured, your boys were rarely ever jealous of each other. Something cold and wet makes you jump, your eyes darting to the offending object only to see Frankie’s wide grin and mischievous eyes as he holds your cold beer to your arm. You playfully smack Frankie’s arm then take your beer with a thank you. You’re pleasantly surprised when Frankie lifts your legs to rest in his lap, his fingers grazing over them as he sips his own beer.

Frankie deals the next hand and you can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous it is being in Jack’s lap and trying to keep your cards from each other. Ginger wipes the floor with all of you that hand.

Hooting and hollering, draws your group’s attention across the beach and you see Benny and Will ambling across the sand, each with a six pack in their hands. Benny practically tackles Santiago as he brings him in for a hug.

“Hey! Watch it Benny, I’m grilling here!”

Will shakes his head and pulls Santi in for a decidedly calmer hug and Benny is already waltzing over to the table where you, Frankie, Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila are. Frankie lets your feet down and stands to give Benny a hug.

“Fish! Good to see ya man!”

“Good to see you too, Benny.”

You’re out of Jack’s lap, to his slight dismay, and hugging Benny, it had been years since you had last seen the lovable younger Miller brother.

“Benny, this is Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila, we all work together.”

Benny didn’t even bat an eye and just greeted everyone with a large smile.

“Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila! Well, don’t you all sound like fun!”

Laughter rang out amongst everyone and Santiago called out that the food was done.

“Why don’t you stay here, honey. Benny and I will get plates for you and Whiskey.”

Frankie wasn’t really asking a question and it wasn’t much of a choice since you found yourself once again back in Jack’s lap, his mustache tickling your skin as his lips pressed to your cheek then temple.

Benny clapped Frankie on the back as they walked over to where Santiago had set out their food.

“So you and Hawk and… ?”

“Yeah, and Whiskey, the three of us, together.”

Benny eyed Frankie for a moment, more out of concern than any judgement.

“Well right on, Fish. It’s good to see you happy. About time with Hawk too, huh?”

Frankie fought and lost against his blush, playfully shoving Benny. They brought their plates back to where you and Whiskey were sitting. Frankie put Whiskey’s plate down, inched his chair closer then sat down. Benny handed you your plate with a flourish.

“Here you go, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and smiling at him even as Jack’s grip on your hip tightened slightly.

“Thanks, Benny.”

He left the three of you then and went to mingle with Ginger and Tequila.

The three of you ate in easy silence. Your feet were draped across Frankie’s lap, your back cradled by Jack’s arm and head resting on his shoulder. Frankie’s fingers alternated between tracing patterns over your skin and resting on Jack’s free hand.

Laughter played off of the sand and air around you, mixing with the sound of the waves. A light, content smile played across your lips as you watched your friends together. It was getting darker now and the sky was painted varying shades of pink, purple, and orange.

“Wow.”

The word slipped from your mouth in awe. Frankie and Jack hummed their agreement in unison and you swear sometimes they were on the same wavelength. You let out a long sigh then take a sip of your beer and settle in further against Jack.

“Whatcha thinking, honey?”

Frankie’s voice is just above a whisper, as if talking any louder would break the spell of perfection that had settled around your group and mother nature.

“I wish I could just hold onto this moment, hold onto this sunset. I’m with the loves of my life, for the first time my family is all together, they’re all having fun and I can’t think of a place I’d rather be than right here watching this sunset.”

Jack held you tighter and kissed your shoulder while Frankie brought your knuckles to his lips.

“We love you too, honey. Couldn’t imagine being anywhere else either.”

Frankie murmurs against your skin and you feel Jack’s hum through his chest. You take in the sight before you, memorizing it so you can paint the canvas in your mind and hold this moment with you, your own slice of heaven. Breathing in, you hold onto the remnants of charcoal from the grill and the salt from the ocean. You hold onto the feeling of the warmth radiating from the last rays of the fading light. It gives way to the heat emanating from Jack and Frankie, which envelops not just your body but your soul as well. You let out a sigh as Frankie leans in closer to you and Jack.

You were going to hold onto this sunset for the rest of your days.

Thanks for reading y'all!

Taglist: @danniburgh @pascalslittlebrat @yespolkadotkitty @mothandpidgeon @mouthymandalorianalso @phoenixhalliwell @itsme-aj467 @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @driedgreentomatoes @pintsizemama @neganwifey25-blog @wheresarizona @absurdthirst @sarahjkl82-blog @duchesschameleon @sherala007 @beautyagegoodnesssize @all-hallows-evie @a-bang-for-your-bucky

#As It Should Be #writer wednesday #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Frankie Morales x reader #Agent Whiskey x f!reader x Frankie Morales

[dragonsareourfuture]

Yoosung/GN!Reader — Muse

AHHHH WHY ARE ALL THE FANDOMS I GET INTO DEAD OR DYING??? Anyway here’s some Yoosung fluff with an artist reader who made a work of art with him as the subject. Begins with headcanons, ends with a lil oneshot. Enjoy!!!

- Yoosung would absolutely go nuts if you were to paint or draw or even just sketch him! As soon as he saw the image you sent of it through the chat room he nearly let out a yelp of joy.

- He’s internally freaking out, he can’t figure out what to tell you that would perfectly encompass how he feels. Just anything he types he’ll have to backtrack because no, it’s not good enough!

- Because of how long he takes though, you might get worried that he didn’t like it and is trying to find a way to let you down easy. In regular Yoosung fashion, he would never just outright say he hated it.

- But after a while, he still can’t think of anything to say, so he sends a picture instead — in it, he’s smiling like a goof, eyes turned to crescents and partially filled with tears. He’s using a hand to hold half of his face in astonishment (and definitely not to cover at least some of the blush he’s sporting). As he’s said before, no one’s ever loved him romantically before, let alone decided to use their talents to create art with him as the subject.

- Along with the picture he sends a little message that reads “I...I’m speechless...! In a good way of course! It looks too good for me to say with words!”

- He feels super sad that he can’t see the painting in person yet and probably calls you about it, asking you to send him more pictures of it until he can get his hands on it.

- He’d just be so grateful and want you to know that, the sweet baby <3

- Count on him asking for a fanart of his favorite LOLOL characters or his avatar after he discovers the true extent to your talent. “Only if you want to of course!”

. . .

Grand doors swung open, giving way to the chilled air outside. The sun was lower in the sky than it had been when the party first began, now brushing against the trees that dotted the skyline. Soft, golden light shone in your face, leaving you to blink away the slight discomfort it caused and keep your gaze angled to the pavement. You almost couldn’t believe you had been there for so long, still filled with energy and partying with your previously strictly virtual friends as all the guests you had managed to rope in left one by one.

By now, there were only a few cars in the lot, all of them belonging to you and your fellow RFA members. You tugged a soft hand along with you as you made your way down the walkway of the party hall and to your car.

A soft chuckle caused you to look behind you, acknowledging the person you could officially call your boyfriend as he asked you, “(Name), where are we going? The other members will worry, y’know.”

“Aw, but you want your present, don’t you?” You responded, a smirk playing on your lips as you turned back around. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your car keys, clicking the button that made your lights blink and the passenger’s side door unlock.

“Present? You didn’t have to— oh! The portrait!” Though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear the bright smile accompanying his words. You knew he wouldn’t forget. He had been asking when he could finally get his pretty hands on your artwork since you sent him a picture over chat. He didn’t include that part about his hands being pretty, but you thought it was necessary.

You popped open the car door, hiding the contents from his single-eyed gaze with your back. “Now, I made sure it didn’t get too roughed up on the drive here, hence the wrapping—“ a canvas wrapped in a sheet was presented to Yoosung. He brought his hands together in anticipation. “—plus this makes for a cool reveal, don’t you think?”

“Yes! I wanna see it!”

“Okay, okay! Ready?” You inquired teasingly, merely fingering the drapes covering the canvas and pulling it down agonizingly slow.

Yoosung pouted childishly and reached forward with too much speed for you to stop him, tearing the sheet from your work.

You stomped your foot jokingly. “You’re no fun, Yoo.” Your smile faded when he didn’t respond. “Yoosung?”

You inspected his expression for any sign of anger, despair, annoyance — really anything that would have pointed to him being unhappy with your work in any way. But what you were met with was more confusing than anything. His expression was quite unreadable, and with one eye being covered by ivory bandages it was even more difficult to get a read on what he was currently feeling.

But the eye that you could see was transfixed on your work. His mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to say something but couldn’t for an unknown reason. Perhaps it was the same reaction that he displayed over text when you showed him for the first time — just speechlessness. You hoped to the gods that was the case. You didn’t know what you would do if he suddenly hated it.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” The nickname seemed to snap him from his stupor. Up until now it had mainly been him that used nicknames like that.

“Oh! It’s nothing it’s...wow....I mean no one’s ever really done this for me before!” Yoosung reached out to brush his fingers against the canvas, feeling each individual stroke of your brush, each bump and dent in the paint in what you swore was disbelief.

“I’m sure Rika’s done something similar.” You shrugged.

The blonde college student smiled sadly. He nodded. “Rika has done a lot for me, that’s true. But this...it’s so you! It’s so unique in a way that can only be you and I don’t want you to ever think that isn’t good enough. Okay?” His expression had grown progressively more serious, more determined to convince you of the value of your efforts. You felt the slight burn of tears meeting your eyelids, pushing them back down with a couple of blinks.

“Okay...I won’t. I promise,” You assured. You looked down at your hands, remembering you still held the portrait. You thrusted it towards him. “Here, it’s yours anyway.”

“Wh...mine? (Name), you know I love it but I couldn’t...! You worked too hard on it for me to just take it!”

“Yoosung, don’t do that self deprecation thing, ‘kay? I made this for you. I worked hard on it because I wanted to give you something I’m proud of.” You paused, waiting for any sort of reaction. All you got was Yoosung’s hands drawing themselves closer to his chest, twitching with uncertainty. So, you pushed your bottom lip out and pouted with obvious exaggeration. “Please? If you don’t I’ll be sad...”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes playfully, finally reaching out and wrapping his fingers around the canvas and lifting it out of your grasp. He smiled down at the image of himself. It looked just like him, but your unique style influenced the way you painted his features in the best possible way. He could tell exactly which photo you used as a reference. He was looking straight at the camera, or viewer in this case, with a side-eyed gaze. In the left corner was the bouquet of red roses he had bought specifically for that picture. Specifically to ask you to be his.

“Why are you so mesmerized?” You asked, chuckling at how Yoosung stared at the painting in awe. “You’ve seen it before.”

“Yeah but this is different! Seeing it in person is so much better!” He defended quickly.

“I got it, it’s okay, sweetheart.” You shut and locked your car door, arm finding its way around Yoosung’s back as your hand found purchase on his waist. You pressed a delicate kiss onto his temple. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“Of course I did! Oh! And I bet the other members will too! Can I show them?”

A laugh broke through your lips. “Obviously. But if any of them ask for a portrait too they have to pay me first.”

“Oooh so I get special privileges?”

“The boyfriend of the artist always gets special privileges. It helps that you’re too damn beautiful not to paint. You’re like my muse.”

You couldn’t believe you hadn’t got to see Yoosung flustered in person before now. And it was glorious, if you did say so yourself. The classic tinge of pink dusted his squeezable cheeks and ears and he let out a small whine of indignation.

“If you keep saying things like that I’ll combust from embarrassment!”

“Better make sure I say more things like that, then.”

Yoosung whacked you with the canvas.

#mystic messenger #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung kim #yoosung x reader #kim yoosung #mystic messenger x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader x mystic messenger #artist reader #x reader scenarios #x reader oneshot #mystic messenger headcanons #x reader headcanons

[yunhohoe]

Pairing: Mingi x Reader

Warnings: Smoking; Swearing; guns and violence and injury; just some pretty intense moments in general;  y/n’s boyfriend is super toxic and unhealthy; fingering; nipple play; unprotected sex; main character death. (Kindly let me know if I missed anything you think should be added)

Genre: ANGST; Smut

Rating: M

Word count: 11k

Summary:  Jobs like this were never easy.  Your boyfriend Blue was an asshole and you didn’t particularly like your work. But, Blue’s best friend Mingi who always tagged along always made the moments more enjoyable.                   One day a job gone wrong sends the two of you to eachothers arms.

a/n: Hiii this is my first ever Ateez fic please go easy on meee.  If there are confusing parts it is likely going to make sense in the end! This is a story with a twist :)

You were rudely pulled from your sleep by a persistent ringing of your cell phone.

Your hand shot to where it sat next to your pillow.  Grabbing it and seeing that it was your boyfriend calling you groaned and quickly swiped to send it straight to voicemail.

Talking to Blue first thing in the morning had always been a pain, he always had something to complain about, usually involving something that you’d done the day before.

You got out of bed and made your way to the shower, your phone buzzed in your hand at least five times and you did your best to ignore it.  You knew it was Blue spamming question marks or asking why you aren’t picking up.

You let your phone buzz the entire time you showered, almost purposefully taking your time, you knew you had time.  He wasn’t coming to pick you up until 9:00.

You let your hands run all over your body as you rinsed off your favorite body wash, taking in the moment before you had to start a day that had been giving you anxiety for a long time.

When you’d been told a year ago that you’d be given an opportunity to be a part of this program you almost didn’t believe it to be real.  

Even though Blue would be there, (despite him being your pick of partner you really couldn’t stand the guy) you said yes.  

You said yes for one reason.

Song Mingi.

Blue’s best friend.

Yes.  You knew it was wrong that you had always had the biggest crush on your boyfriend's best friend but he was everything Blue wasn’t in all the best ways.

Blue was a coward.  Not in the way of getting scared of spiders or ghosts or things.  But in the way you knew he’d throw anyone under the bus to save himself if needed, even you.

Mingi was never a coward, while you’d seen him let out a cute scream at a spider or two, you had trusted him with your life.  You would trust him with anything.

And it’d been far too long since you’d seen that face…

So you agreed, and here you were, putting on your red lipstick in the mirror.  You only wore red lipstick on special occasions and this was definitely to be one.  

----------

Once you had gotten ready head to toe in your best you walked out the front door of your apartment building and made your way to the bustling front where taxis were leaving as fast as they arrived.

This city definitely didn’t ever stop.

It had always been going going going…

Just like you.  Since the day you were born you’d kept pushing forward at a relentless pace, and here you were, staying in one of the most luxurious apartments in the city, paying for it with money you made.

Well…

“Are we doing this or not y/n? Did you go fucking deaf overnight?”

Blue.

You sighed and turned to see him yelling at you from the driver's seat of his flashy car.

It was a bright shade of teal, four seater car with purple coloring misted over it in spots almost too subtle to see.  When the sun caught the paint the right way it lit up with the glitter mixed in and could get almost blinding.  Inside was a blue haired man that never ceased to turn heads.  It was much like the way you dressed head to toe in glamorous jewelry, your bright red shorts that matched your lipstick were far too short and shifted many glances their way.

You’d really missed dressing up this much.  You only ever did when you were going to a job, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to draw attention to yourself in your line of work. (though it had come in handy as a distraction a few times.)

But, you couldn’t help it, and neither could Blue.  Maybe that's why despite all of the toxicity in your relationship you stayed together.  You hung well on eachothers arms.

You hopped into the driver's seat and were instantly pulled into a sloppy wet kiss with an intruding tongue.  You did your best not to gag and gave him a fake but believable smile as you pulled away.

“You’re making us late.” He grumbled and put his car into drive, he sped up so fast the wheels of the car skidded on the pavement and you were off.

You had to admit, while this was far from your first gig you could never escape the heavy beating of your heart that kicked in once you were on your way.

The interior of Blue’s car was just as extra as him.  All black leather with blue lights places perfectly throughout the car to light it up in a cool hue.  The deep blue reflected off Blue’s short but scruffy turquoise blue hair, giving it some more depth than it had when he was out of the car.

He did seem cooler when he drove..

Maybe that's another reason why despite his constant harsh words you were drawn to him.

You met him on a job where he was the driver, and the two of you had been tangled up with each other on and off ever since.

The car skidded to a stop and you felt your seatbelt click to halt you from falling too far forward.

You turned to Blue to glare at him for his rough driving but he wasn’t looking at you.  He had a giant smile on his face as he waved almost childishly out the window.

Now realizing where you were you sucked in a silent gasp and quickly tugged down the mirror on the visor above you to make sure your hair and makeup were still alright.

You wiped a little bit of lipstick that Blue had smudged under your lips and shoved the visor back up as if nothing had happened.

You took in a deep breath this time, your heart pounding out of your chest, you swore it might actually give you a heart attack.

The bubbling warmness was coming up from your stomach to your throat until you couldn’t stop yourself from saying his name.  

“Mingi!” you yelled out of the car window to him.

The tall man approaching your car silently now ducked down a bit to meet your eyes and gave you his signature body melting smile and a tiny wave that he kept close to his body.

Unlike you and Blue, Mingi wasn’t flashy.  He was still friendly, and certainly could turn heads in his own way.  

But it was almost like he knew he didn’t need to try.   You wished you could feel more confident to be like that, effortlessly attractive, the kind of hot that makes you turn heads even when…

“You look like that's what you rolled out of bed wearing!” Blue scolded Mingi as he hopped into the back seat.

“Wow, I’m already being attacked? I’ve been here two seconds.” Mingi dramatically feigned being deeply offended.  

Though, he likely *was* wearing what he woke up in.  The man was in grey plaid pajama like sweatpants and an oversized plain black hoodie, his hair that had been dyed bright red at one point was now a pale and faded orange and he looked like he needed a couple extra hours of sleep.

But god.  Was he the most perfect sight on the eyes.  Even Blue, despite his asshole personality couldn’t help but love the man in a way you’d never seen him love anyone, even you.

They’d been best friends since grade school and when you started dating Blue you’d realized they were a package deal.

It always blew your mind how such polar opposite people could become friends.  Mingi was kind where Blue was cruel, and Mingi was strong where Blue was weak.

You couldn’t help but kick yourself for sitting in the front seat that day years ago with Blue instead of getting in the backseat with Mingi.

Damn him and his flashy hair, and damn you and your addiction to shiny things, despite how poisonous they might be.

“You look just fine Mingi.” You giggled.

“Thank you.” He lifted his chin up jokingly and smugly.  You chuckled and tried your hardest not to study his adorable features and make it obvious that you had some feelings here…

How could such polar opposite people become best friends?

Maybe they weren’t totally opposite, because they did share one thing in common, the same thing that you also had in common with them.

“So where did the app say to meet up?”

*Crimson Rexcruit*

The app each of you had on your phones.

The app you had met them through.

“There's supposed to be two more meeting us at the City Bank.” Blue mumbled off the last bit.

“Wait…” you felt maybe due to the mumbling you’d misheard.

Mingi as well had a confused expression on his face, leaning forward to put his head closer to the front seat.

“I’m sorry.  Did you say City Bank? As in the largest bank in the city.  As in the most guarded bank in the city?” He questioned his friend.

Blue simply nodded.

You felt your blood turn to ice and you were stiff in your seat.

“Um...Blue...That's not in our grade?” Your voice was almost a squeak.

The way the app worked was you had to have someone else with a high enough grade on the app to vouch for you.  Once you had that you could unlock parts of the app that allowed you to take low level jobs with low pay until you got enough good reviews to move higher.  You and your group had always hovered around the level of small gas station robberies, usually when no one was there, or only one attendant.  

Mingi usually went in with whoever the app told you to meet up with.  Blue was your getaway driver, and you were the lookout and distraction if needed.

It had always worked smoothly,it required little planning, and had almost become routine.

This bank robbery was jumping quite a few levels above what you were used to.

“It is now.” He said shortly, not taking his eyes off the road as he drove.

When you join a ‘Crew’ through the app you are required to appoint a leader, and your leader was Blue.  The leader would get a lot of details about your jobs that the other crew members wouldn’t, it was to help with deniability and keeping information from getting around.  But, damn did it get annoying when Blue kept things from you.

You rolled down your window a crack, remembering that Blue always kept a pack of cigarettes in his center console of his car.  You went to grab for one and it was slammed shut almost pinching the tips of your fingers inside.

You yelped out a high pitched gasp and held your hand close to your chest.

Blue still looked at the road but one hand had left the steering wheel and was holding the console lid shut.

“Thought you quit.” He snapped.

You looked back to Mingi who was silent but obviously trying his hardest not to get involved, shifting his gaze out the window as if he couldn’t hear the two of you. He wasn’t one to get nervous or stand down.  To anyone but Blue that is.  

It was unfortunate because you knew that Mingi was the only one Blue would listen to.

“Well you’re really making me want one.” you said coldly, pissed off for a few reasons now.

“Oh well.  There's not many left anyways and you always smoke two in a row for some reason.” He seemed to mock you for your habit.

“She can have one of mine.” Mingi offered from the back.  Apparently now not pretending he wasn’t listening to the entire conversation.

“Thank you Mingi.” You sang smiling at him, unbuckling and turning all the way around in your seat so that your ass was almost poking against the windshield.

Blue cussed under his breath and seemed to debate on pushing you back into your seat.

You leaned into the backseat, opening your mouth with a slight smirk on your face, pleased that Blue wasn’t getting his way this time.

Mingi seemed to part his lips slightly along with you, staring at the space between yours.

His eyes locked onto the way your tongue slightly rolled behind your teeth as you waited for him to stop fumbling his fingers over the pack he was pulling out of his hoodie pocket and put the cigarette in your mouth.

His eyes only darted down for a quick second as he pulled one out, they were back to your lips like a magnet as he reached his hand out to place the cigarette between your lips.  

You felt a place in the not too far back of your mind wish that instead of pulling his hand back away after that he’d let it linger, let a finger trail the border of your lips, tracing the red to memorize with his fingers the way he was with his eyes.

But, instead he quickly pulled away and relaxed back into his seat.  He smiled a thin toothless smile at you, as if to say ‘our transaction here is done now.’

Which it was.

That didn’t make it less frustrating though. You didn’t huff though.  You were used to bottling it all up, and you’d come to terms long ago with the fact that Mingi would never be yours.

Blue was who you had chosen, and he did have things about him that were positives to being his.

He was richer than Mingi.  Being the leader came with an extra cut of the pay each job since he would be the one to get the highest charges if caught.  It was fair, and none of you had ever argued it.

Blue was good in bed.  Not that you didn’t imagine Mingi to be either…

But, you couldn’t really complain there.  He liked to toss you around, and you liked to be tossed around.

You settled back into your seat and caught Blue giving you a sulky glance.  You pretended not to notice and instead of addressing what would likely turn into a fight, you grabbed the lighter set in the cupholder.  You lit your cigarette, tossing the lighter back into the cupholder without care, causing it to bounce down back out and down onto the floor.

Not caring to pick it up either you rolled down your window a bit more, letting the breeze carry the smoke out of the car.

Why was your heart still beating so fast? You knew how these jobs went, you knew how this job would go.  Right?

It was quiet for a long time.  

Blue usually liked to turn up his music and get hyped up before a job, so you took to just staring out the window as you smoked.

You caught a glimpse of mingi in the car’s rear view mirror.  He was looking at you.

Instead of looking away from being caught staring, he stuck out his tongue goofily.  You chuckled and coughed a bit on the hit you had been taking in.

Cute.  

He was always so cute.

More seconds passed, or was it minutes?

You didn’t remember the drive to the bank taking this long…

-------

Finally your car was parked by a side door that you were told would be left unlocked for your crew and the two solo Crimson Rexruit users.

They came in a second car and were to assist Mingi with the robbery and they would take the money to the client that put the job out.  

Your team never dealt with transporting the money, your money always promptly got distributed by your job title and deposited into your accounts by the app after the client received their money.

“Okay. I’ll go stand out and wait for the-” Mingi started.

“Wait.” Blue cut him off.  Uncharacteristically he gulped, and his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, though he’d already parked the car.  He took a deep breath in and chuckled.

“So I’m actually going in with you this time.  We need four for the job inside and they’d only hire five people.” Blue explained, then turned to you. “You’re gonna have to drive.”

“Excuse me?”

Though it was your thoughts exactly, it was Mingi’s voice that spoke.

Blue turned around as much as he could in his seat to face his best friend.

“She can do this and be look out.  It’ll be fine.” though nothing in Blue’s nervous tone made you feel like everything was fine.  Blue never went in...and this was going to be his first job inside?  

“We all already have enough money to live the rest of our lives happily.” your hand shot out to Blue’s leg.  “You know we don’t *have* to do this…” you tried to reason with him.  You knew it was a lost cause, but you couldn’t help but try.

Once Blue had something on his mind there was no way anyone could stop him.  Except maybe…

“Mingi?” you whipped your head around to face him, hoping that he could yell some sense into his friend.

“I-...” He seemed to debate in his mind for a while.  “If it's what the app told him…” he shrugged “We’ll be fine.” he gave another thin unsure smile.

You sighed.  It was worth a shot.

“Okay.”

Blue and Mingi got out of the car and you moved over into the driver's seat, adjusting it for yourself and rolling the window down all the way while they spoke with the other men that had just arrived.

Your boyfriend walked over to the window and pulled you into another cringeworthy kiss.  

“I’ll be back in no time baby.” he winked at you. You smiled, looking him up and down before he walked away.

He really was something else.  While you didn’t particularly like him much, you never would wish harm on him.  Your stomach had already been in knots before you had learned he’d be going in as well.  It was almost impossible to handle the feeling that came after.

Mingi next walked over to you, bending down and resting his elbows on the ledge of the open window.

“I’ll look after him.” Mingi smiled. “Won’t take my eyes off him.”

You nodded, “I know you’ll look after him.” of course he will.  As much as Blue loved Mingi, Mingi loved him right back.  

His eyes narrowed into a different expression, and he started to almost speak but instead shut his lips tightly, as if to completely block any words from slipping out.  Mingi pulled out another cigarette from his pack, surprising you and causing you to jump a bit as he boldly just placed it between your lips.

“You never had your second one.” He chuckled

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in.  It almost caused the cigarette to fall from your lips to your lap.

“Oh yeah.” You muttered, the stick between your lips muffling your words, “s’been a while.”

He then smiled with a nod and stood up, patting the top of the car before starting to walk away.

“Mingi!” You yelled out. The unlit cigarette not saved from its fall this time.

He instantly spun back around and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah y/n?”

He spoke your name so beautifully.  So clearly like cool water hitting your throat on a hot day.

You almost forgot what you were going to say, smiling goofily for a moment as a smile grew on his face in return.

“You stay safe too.” you spoke.

He chuckled and nodded, sticking his hands in his hoodie pocket.  

“I will, don’t worry.” he winked.  

You felt your heart flutter just before it sank. He pulled a gun from his hoodie pocket to show you.  Flashing it just for a moment before returning it and leaving his hands into stay.

He smirked and returned to where Blue and the other men were talking.

Mingi never carried a gun…

He hadn’t known this job would be different…

Why the *fuck* did he have a gun?

————-

You waited for far too long.  The unlit cigarette sitting under your lap motionless.  Just like you.

Your hands were gripped on the steering wheel so tightly your fingers hurt.  But it was the only thing distracting you from what you knew what was to come.

Any second the door they all went in would open and you’d need to make sure your foot was on the pedal as fast as you could to get your crew out of there.

It was just taking so long.

Did it really take that long?

The anxiety was getting too much to handle and you remembered the cigarette in your lap.  

Your hands were so shakey you could barely bring it to your lips, but it made it there in time.

You went to grab for the lighter in the cup holder and upon your hand only hitting plastic you remembered you’d dropped it on the floor on the passenger seat.

You leaned over to rummage around, not seeing it anywhere and figuring it must’ve gone under the seat you started to go to move it back…

And at that moment the sound of the metal door being swung open echoed out in the alley you were parked in with a loud bang, causing you to jump up and hit your head on the underside of the dashboard.

You quickly say up in a panic.

After that was only the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement as fast as they could.

The passenger side door was flung open and a panicked Mingi hopped inside.

In his arms was a giant duffle bag, and on his hands was…

“Mingi is that blood?” Your jaw hung open.

“Fucking drive y/n.” he hissed in a stern tone you’d never before that day heard from him.

“B-Blue?” You stuttered out your lower lip trembling.

“DRIVE!” he screamed, slamming a hand on the dashboard so loudly that your foot smashed onto the gas without you even meaning to.   The car jerked forward and you just kept going.

It seemed like your body had decided from here on out to autopilot.  

Everything seemed like it was moving forward faster than it ever had in your life.  This city certainly moved fast but the distance between you and wherever Blue was right now was growing faster.

You didn’t seem to be running from anyone so once you got a few blocks over you started going the speed limit and tried your best to blend into traffic in Blue’s flashy car while a bloody Mingi sat wide eyed and silent beside you.  

He was trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down but seemed to be struggled to get one out without it getting caught in his throat.

You drove and drove for what felt like an hour, pulling into the driveway of a house a few towns over you’d stayed at a few times with Blue on vacation.  He didn’t own it or anything, yet the keys did happen to be on Blue’s keychain.  He’d managed to snag himself a print of it the last time you’d stayed there.

For some reason it was the place your body had just brought you to.

And you felt then that it was lucky it had.  There were no cars parked out front and all of the lights were turned off.  It looked extremely vacant.

You parked and rushed over to Mingi’s side of the car, opening his door frantically.

“Are you hurt?”

He was clutching the duffle bag tightly, lightly knocking his head against it while muttering.

“Mingi!” you spoke quietly but sternly.

He shook his head against the bag. His bloodied fingers that were locked intertwined with each other had now dried and likely smeared blood onto the bag as well.

“Then we gotta get into the house and find something to cover up this car.” You grabbed him by the arm trying to prompt him to get out of the car.

He was reluctant at first but after a few tugs nodded and let you help him out of the car.

You walked him to the door of the house, looking around double checking if you were followed.

It seemed to be in the clear, and the house was fairly secluded, probably a half mile either way before you’d see another house.  Yet, with Blue’s very stand out choice of ride, it was still better safe than sorry to find something to cover it up.

That was step two.

Step one was to get Mingi inside.

After missing the keyhole a few times you finally got the door unlocked and Mingi (without your assistance, and despite you trying to reach out to help him) stumbled over to a couch in the first room the entrance led to.  He almost fell into it, the duffle bag still clutched tightly in his arms.

“You stay there.” Your voice was scratchy, as if you’d been screaming, had you screamed at some point?

Mingi didn’t respond, eyes held shut and he laid down onto his side.

It seemed like that was him agreeing so you nodded and took to searching the house for some sort of blanket or tarp.

You found a large cover in the bathroom of the home and made your way out to the front lawn with it, glancing back to make sure Mingi was still resting on the couch.  He was, exactly how you’d left him.

As you pulled the sheet over the car you noticed a bit of blood on the dashboard where Mingi’s hand had hit.  

It was not a sight you’d ever expected to see.  It was obviously something that everyone who did the things you did had to consider at some point…

But when it actually happened it made you realize you had never *really* thought through the consequences of what your Crew was doing.

The realness of the danger was a lot different than the rush and thrill of getting away with it.  There wasn’t anything sexy about this moment, not like all the other times where the adrenaline had you and Blue ripping each other's clothes off the minute you walked into the door after a job.

Blue...

No.  This felt more like being sick, every kind of sick you’d ever felt all at once.  

You hurried to finish getting the car covered and sped back into the house.

“Mingi?” you called out to the man still motionless on the couch.

He remained silent, squeezing the bag closer to his chest.

“Mingi where's Blue?” You walked over to him, kneeling down next to him.  

He winced at his friend's name, shook his head, and rolled over away from you.

As always, no one tells you anything.  Even when it could be life or death.

This time you decided to make a huff.  It was immature of you but you weren’t quite in control of your emotions.

You stood up and ripped the duffle bag from his arms, tossing it across the room.

Almost in the same moment, as if to replace the loss of the duffle bag, Mingi’s arm shot out at you.  His hand to your waist pulling you down, causing you to lose balance and topple onto the couch on top of him.

He shifted himself to make room for the two of you and brought you in tightly, even tighter than he’d been holding that bag.  

Now he started to sob.

You’d never seen Mingi cry, let alone anyone cry with such a raw and rough outpouring of emotion.

His hands now started to scramble across your back, his full body shaking as he sobbed, and your hands running through his hair until the two of you drifted off to an unintentional sleep.

-------

You couldn’t help but notice the way every curve of Mingi’s body was pressed up against you when you woke up a couple hours later.

His pajama pants not  leaving much of a barrier between himself and the shorts you were wearing as he shifted his front closer to you.

As much as you wanted to press back into him…

As much as you could…

The (even) bigger situation here set in.

You sat up, almost knocking him off the couch onto the floor.

“Hm?” He mumbled at you.

“Mingi wake up.” you shook his shoulder.

As if he’d for a moment completely forgotten the events of earlier, and only saw what he thought must’ve been a dream.  A dream where you had fallen asleep next to him.  Maybe a dream he’d had many times, since he smiled fondly, and almost with a hint of familiarity.

That faded all too quickly though as the sleepiness lifted its fog on his brain.

His eyes no longer held any light, it drained instantly and he shot off the couch.  Stumbling clumsily back.  

“Fuck.” Wide eyed he pulled the gun out of his pocket.  

“I’d had that pressed against me this whole time!?” you almost screamed at him.

“The safety is…” He fumbled it over in his hands. “On...now…” he winced.

“Fuck Mingi.” you muttered, standing up and walking over to him. “Please put that thing somewhere...not here.”

He nodded with no hesitation and walked into the kitchen, putting it in one of the drawers.

When he returned he sat on the couch with his hands on his elbows and his mouth pressed firmly into his hands.

“Tell me what happened Mingi.” you sat down next to him, putting a hand on the fabric of his sweater over his bicep, feeling him flex slightly at your touch. “Please” you pleaded.

He nodded and moved his hands, sighing and shaking his head.

“It was a set up...but not for us.” He sucked a deep breath in slightly starting to tremble “  Once we were almost out of there Blue got a text.  Not from the client but from the app.  The message told him we had an option...If we killed the two solo partners we’d get their share of the money. I-” he paused “I don’t get why but Blue instantly seemed on board he just...lit up.” Mingi waved his hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck y/n.  He wasn’t acting himself I swear.”

He was now pleading to you almost.  

“Okay…” you started to play with the hem of your shorts as you prompted him to continue.

“Y/n...he was gonna do it. He...did. Do it..” he cocked his head to the side biting down on his lip and whimpering slightly.

You sucked in.  You had known that was coming next.  You really had.

In a question of whether Blue would be capable of something like that, (while Mingi seemed to think it was out of character for him) your answer would have always been yes.  Yes he could, and yes he did.

“He took my gun out of my hands almost instantly y/n...and it was so quick.” tears now started to pool in his eyes.  He cleared his throat and took another breath. “Um...yeah.  He shot them.  Just...like that.” he blinked a few times.

“Oh…” was all you could manage to reply. It was quiet for a bit until Mingi started muttering something under his breath.  He was starting to rock back and forward slightly where he sat.

“So you left him behind?” you asked.

“Ah.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to.  Everything was just so...fast.” he muttered, standing up and leaving the room in a hurry.

You pursed your lips together, not following him right away.  Sitting with that thought again.

Blue had killed the two other partners.  Blue had killed two people.  

It wasn’t the kind of feeling that would ever be shaken.  Even sixty years from now this memory would be one of the last on your mind.

You let yourself cry a moment.  Finally.

You cried for Blue and what he’d done.  You cried for the people he’d killed and their loved ones, and those right now expecting them home.

“y/n?” Mingi’s voice called from the other room.  

“Not now Mingi.” you choked out, your emotions slowly gaining momentum.

Fluffy orange hair poked around the corner of the room, he was in the kitchen now peeking around into the living room area you sat in.

“Tea?” He wiggled a box he must’ve found in the closet, he was putting on a fake smile, it could’ve been more for himself than you,  but it helped.

You nodded, wiping the wetness from your eyes with the back of your hand.

He returned not too much later with two green mugs in his hand, setting them down on a table beside the couch.

Mingi then sat down hard next to you, shaking the couch a bit and chuckling at his clumsiness.

You smiled slightly and reached out for one of the mugs that was on the other side of him.

He caught your arm gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and holding you for a moment, looking into your eyes with ones filled to the brim with pain.

“Um.  The tea is still pretty hot.  I wouldn’t” he explained himself, giving you your arm back.

You looked over to the steam rolling off the top of the mug.

This isn’t fun.

Why did you do this?

What was the point of any of this?

Why did you choose this…

You debated screaming out for an escape.  You knew the words you could say…

But you weren’t ready yet.  Not yet.

And then there it was.

Your reminder and reason for doing this.

Mingi smiled your way.  Maybe a bit forced still, but a completely body melting smile.

You instantly rested your head on his shoulder, wishing you could do more than that in this moment.  Begging your body to let you do more than just gently rest your head on his shoulder.

Your hand could easily move out to his knee and trail up his leg...

But not yet. As much as you knew it would help the two of you.  As much as you were 99% sure right now in this moment you both wanted more than just your head on his shoulder, it wouldn’t be right.  Not right now.

Your eyes did flash to the clock hanging on the wall for the first time in a while.  It was only 5pm.  It seemed like a week had passed since this morning.

You let more seconds pass with your head on Mingi’s shoulder, there wasn’t much else you could do.

-------------

A few hours later Mingi was cooking you both dinner. There wasn’t much in the cabinets that hadn't expired.  No one had been here for a while.

Yet he swore he could whip something up with what he could find.

You’d chuckled and agreed to let him try while you laid out and read magazines on the couch, admiring the bright red toenail polish on your toes and wiggling your feet lost in the moment...forgetting the moment.

Until a loud clatter of pans snapped you out of it.

You jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen to find Mingi on the floor holding his hand with a pained look on his face.

“Oh my god!” you ran over to him, crouching down and pulling his hand from being held to his chest to where you could see. “You’ve burned yourself.  Here…” you stood and started to pull him up by his good arm.

“I’ve got it y/n” he hissed.  Standing up on his own and turning the faucet on.

“It didn’t look too bad. It should feel better really soon” you tried to comfort him.  A pot of half boiled noodles and water was splattered all over the floor.

“Y/n I’m so sorry…” He muttered.

“It’s just pasta.” You shrugged.

That didn’t seem to be what he was talking about.  But he simply just said, “Yeah”

“Let me wrap your hand up at least.” You figured there had to be a first aid kit somewhere in the house.

He nodded and sighed, looking down at his hand and shaking his head.

You’d never seen him so out of sorts.  Though who wouldn’t be after what he said he saw.

You wondered how he could’ve burned his hand that badly on a pot that definitely had a long handle.

It hurt to think on that curiosity for too long.   You were pretty sure the answer was one you wouldn’t like hearing.  

There was some gauze in a bathroom closet thankfully, though not much it seemed enough to wrap his hand.

You walked back out to the kitchen to see it empty.  Peeking around the corner to where the living room was you saw Mingi sitting on the couch poking at his burn with his other hand.

“Leave that alone.” You snapped.  It startled him, yet when he saw you his face softened and his body seemed to relax into the couch.

“Sorry.” he muttered.

“Here.” You sat down next to him.  You didn’t mean to sit so close, but when you sat the couch seemed to slide you close to him, assisting your body’s efforts to be as near as possible to this man.  

The side of your leg was now completely pressed against his.  It didn’t seem to miss his attention either.  

When you looked at his face there was the softest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  You almost involuntarily gulped at how undeniably sexy his expression was.  How completely enchanting sitting this close to him was…

“H-hand.” you mumbled, holding your own hand out.

You felt the soft fabric of his hoodie now brushing against your shoulder as he moved even closer putting his hand palm up in yours.

The burn looked a bit worse than it had earlier, but seemed like it would heal alright on its own.  You couldn’t risk taking him to a hospital anyways.

Slowly you took the roll of gauze and while gently holding his hand up you started to carefully wrap it around.

You almost zoned out into your task, making sure that you were doing it just right, diligently keeping your eyes on his hand.  Well...until you were almost done and your eyes accidentally wandered up from the burn in the center of his hand to his fingers.  It seemed to take your eyes longer than you realized to study them all the way up to the tip.  Maybe you were trying to picture the feeling…

You slowly shifted your gaze up to Mingi and realized that his eyes had been locked on your face this entire time.  He’d been studying you study his hands, his lips starting to quiver as he watched you purse yours in concentration.   It’d almost seemed that he’d found it attractive the way you had been so focused on taking care of him.

Now that you were face to face you were hit with a slight embarrassment for being so close.  His face being only inches from your own.

You started to pull back from him, but his lips quickly parted and he let out a small noise in protest.

Time seemed to still.  

Maybe it had.

Maybe you were being blessed with a few more seconds to linger on that cute pout on his face.

On the way his hair was still so messy from sleeping earlier.  On the way that despite the pain in both of your eyes, despite the hurt that you’d always carry from this day...you wanted nothing more in this moment than him.

Finally.

You leaned forward to him, finally pressing a soft kiss on to his lips.  His body completely tensed up in surprise.  He held both his hand away from you as if something horrible would happen if he touched you.

Quickly you pulled back, thinking you must’ve misread the moment.

“Oh.” You brought your hand to your lips and tugged at your lower one a bit embarrassed.

“y/n.” Mingi spoke in a pained tone.

Your eyes had dropped down to your lap and you didn’t quite feel like looking back up at him.

“y/n.” this time he whispered.  That time was for him, almost like your name would soothe whatever it was he was feeling in this moment.

You jumped when you felt his fingers on your face.  He had his good hand now gently tucked under your chin, coaxing your face over to look at him.

“I’m not a good person.  I’m no better than…” he seemed to plead this at you, then let go of your chin with a sigh.

It made no sense to you.  How could he think he was a bad person.  How could he even think to start to compare himself to Blue like that.

You shook your head.

“You could never be like him Mingi.  He *killed* people.” you shuddered. “I-” you paused. “I’m sorry I kissed you.  You’re going through a lot, we both are.”

His eyes suddenly widened and now both his hands were on your face.

“No!” he almost shouted. “Fuck.”

You were being held now close enough that you could just ever so slightly lean forward and brush your lips against his again.

“I shouldn’t do this.”  He whispered, you could feel the soft breath of his voice against your skin.  

You closed your eyes for a moment and felt a warm wave wash over you.  He was so perfect and beautiful, and he was hurting so badly.

You had no idea what was really going on inside of him.  If you did maybe you wouldn’t be doing this.  Maybe you would’ve agreed.  But, then again, when the morals were put aside, neither of you could deny that not only did you both want this but…

“Mingi please.  You have no idea how many years I’ve wanted you, and I know you want me too.” you finally felt the words you’d carried for a long time lift from your chest, they were a weight gone that you’d always thought you’d die with.

He froze again, processing likely.  His lips muttered something silently.  You figured he was thinking on how he also had been ready to die with the thoughts he’d kept of you.   Like you, he had probably decided that he would settle for the small glances and giggles, and the miniscule flirtatious exchanges that Blue had always seemed to let slide.

Neither of you had ever thought anything would come of this.

But, neither of you had ever wanted anything more.

It was Mingi’s turn to put his lips to yours.  

All the air in your body seemed to leave as he almost pounced on you, pressing your back to the couch and roughly hooking one of your legs around his waist.

You were swirling with the feelings of arousal and surprise.  You felt a throb between your legs.  Yes.  If you could have anything in the world it would be this.

It would be him.

The way his pillowy lips moved against yours contrasted so starkly in comparison to Blue’s sloppy uncontrolled kisses.  Mingi kissed you like he was tasting his favorite food, savouring each moment and letting you melt into his mouth.

You had a hand tangled in his hair, his scruffy orange locks gave you quite a good handful to grip onto and you pulled his head to the side, putting your lips to the soft skin of his neck and parting your lips to suck.

He growled out at the feeling and started to grind himself against you.  Through the thin fabric of his pants you could feel the throbbing length of his cock start to grow against your leg.

He continued to hump into you, pressing you into the couch as he did and moving himself so that you could grind yourself against his leg in return.

You gasped out almost instantly when you felt his muscular thighs press into you.  You began to reflexively roll your hips against him, hoping to find some relief to the now aching need growing.

When your lips had left his neck, they gifted him with a beautiful purple mark on his skin.   You smiled at your artwork and gave it a quick peck.  

Mingi chuckled and brought his lips back to yours, giving you some more perfectly placed kisses.

He then winced and let out a hiss.  He’d started to move his injured hand down to where your bodies were still moving against each other desperately.  In the heat of the moment he’d forgotten his injury.  Shaking his head at himself he bit his lower lip and moved himself so that he could get his good hand between your legs.

He pressed two fingers against the outside of your shorts and rubbed a few times, giving you a mischievous smile as he noticed your eyes start to roll back at his touch.

He walked his fingers up to the button of your shorts, not taking long with getting it undone and unzipping them in one firm pull.

Mingi leaned down and nipped at your lower lip causing you to squeak and giggle.  His eyes sparkled back down at you,

He then moved himself to the side to get his hand in a better position, have his fingers start to tickle and play at the hem of your panties.

You felt a warm shiver bring goosebumps to the top of your skin.  You smiled up at him in amazement at his affect on you.

He also didn’t miss the effect he was having as he started to slide his fingers below that line.

It felt like a lifetime of waiting.

This.

The thing that had made it worth pushing through those jobs.  That made you keep building and growing even after everything you’d been through in your life.  

Him.

The person who held your heart so tightly when he hadn’t even known it, his eyes that held so many captured memories of you.  

Whether it was letting his eyes linger too long on the way smoke would fall from your lips as you’d stand lookout smoking your second cigarette.  The first one was always on the way there for the nerves of getting to the job.  

You snapped back to the moment when Mingi’s finger pressed firmly on your clit and started to circle.

You moaned out a soft hum and let your head fall back into the couch.  

Mingi hummed back a pleasure filled soft groan in a response to your noises, and moved his finger down to gather some of the now dripping wetness from your entrance and bring it back up to your clit, swirling it around in circles coating you in your own wetness.

Your hips bucked up into his hand, but he pressed you back down firmly.

“Stay still baby.  Let me.” He ordered, his hand now flat and held heavy to keep you from moving. “Are you gonna stay still?” he started the ever so slightly wiggle his fingers.  The small movement causing you to want nothing more to jerk your hips up again, but you obeyed.  You wanted nothing more than to please him now that you finally had him.

“Yes!” You desperately gasped out.

Mingi’s eyes were wild and while there were pained memories behind them, in the front, in this moment was lust.  You could see glazed over and excited eyes hungrily scanning and making their way from where his hand was in your shorts, and where your lips parted as you moaned for him.  

He pushed you further and further towards the high he was taking you to.  Taking turns between dipping his fingers into your soaking hole and bringing them back up to flick over your clit at a relentless pace.

“I-I’m close.” You gasped out.

He dropped his forehead to yours, and gave you a few encouraging pecks on the cheek.

“Please.” he moaned, begging to feel you cum under his fingers.

You felt him pick up his pace, his fingers rubbing against you now just where you needed them.

You bit down on your lip and tossed your head back, moaning and uttering out a mix of swears and Mingi’s name.

“Damn…” He whispered, his fingers still on you, now just slowly sliding over your sensitive nub as you twitched under him.  He gradually slowed his pace until he was lifting his hand out from your shorts, letting you come down from your orgasm.

You felt pure bliss and happiness.  There was nothing in the world besides Song Mingi.

He was now standing up and lifting his hoodie quickly up over his head.

You’d actually never seen him shirtless.  You’d always wondered and imagined…

When his shirt would slip up occasionally and you’d catch a glimpse you swore you’d get so light headed you’d end up on the floor.

So this?  For him to be standing in front of you, taking his shirt off and almost presenting himself to you with a cocky smirk.

You were lucky you were already laying down.

He tossed his hoodie and the shirt under it off to the side, now standing in front of you in only his pants that  hung far too low on his hips.

His tongue darted out quickly to wet his lower lip.

“Yeah?” He looked down at himself then back up to you.

As if he needed to ask.  How could you not find him sexy.  Every inch of him he’d revealed seemed to be just as effortlessly sexy as the rest of him.  You wouldn’t have expected anything less, but that definitely didn’t stop it from taking your breath away.

“Fuck yes.” you nodded in approval, giving him an obvious look up and down.

“Yeah, I thought so.” he smiled as he hopped back on top of you on the couch.

He slipped his hand back into your pants for a moment and rubbed you a little more, collecting some of your wetness on his fingers and bringing it up to your lips.

“Open.” he whispered his command, his eyes were heavy lidded and almost in a trance now staring at your lips with unwavering attention.

You parted them just enough for him to push his two fingers inside.  He slid them on your tongue and you closed your lips tightly around them, flicking your tongue along as you took your lips from the base of his fingers up to the tip.

He took a sharp breath in that caught in his throat, and he moved his hips needily against you hoping to find some relief for his very apparent hardness pressed to your center now.

“I want you Mingi.  I’ve always wanted you.” You spoke as he sat back on his heels on the couch to pull your shorts and panties off.  He held one of your legs up after your clothes had been tossed aside and rested it on his shoulder.  

He pressed the gentlest kiss you’d ever felt right above your ankle, then trailed his lips all the way down your leg, making you shudder and tremble at every touch.

“Mingi…” you moaned out when his lips hovered near your still dripping lips between your legs.  He didn’t stay there though, he kept moving himself up, pulling up your shirt as he left more kisses on your skin.

Your stomach twitched, getting slightly ticklish at the feeling as he kissed near your sides.  

Pulling up the fabric of your shirt further left him now with another barrier still as he reached your bra.

His hands made a quick job of unhooking your bra and fully tossing the rest of your clothes aside.  His burn still wrapped but the pain apparently ignored and pushed aside by his want.

He excitedly breathed out a “There.” and dove his head down taking one of your nipples into his  mouth and flicking the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck!” You hissed out, your hands shooting to his hair and holding him close to you.

“Sensitive nipples baby?” He pulled his mouth off you just slightly to speak.

“Mmm.” Was your only reply, and you tried to push his head back down onto you, needing to feel him more.  He delivered exactly what you wanted with a breathy chuckle, making your nipple back into his mouth, his good hand was on your other breast, now taking that nipple between two fingers and lightly pinching.

You yelped out and squirmed with pleasure under his touch.  

“Fuck me already Mingi!” you almost growled, grabbing his hair and pulling his head off of you and facing you.

You didn’t think you could take another second without feeling him inside of you.  

His hand left your tits and scurried to the hem of his pants at your order. His eyes were excited and surprised at your intensity, but he seemed to be extremely turned on by it, and started to comply with your request right away.

He seemed to sigh with relief as he pulled his pants down and let his cock spring free.  He took himself in his hand and moved a few shallow pumps around the base of his shaft before moving to position himself at your hole.

“I’ve imagined this so many times…” he whispered, pausing and moving the head of his cock up and down against you.  Your hips seemed to move up towards him on their own power, hearing that like you he’d imagined this moment over and over was music to your ears.

“Fuck me now Mingiiii” you whined out.

Finally he lowered his head to rest next to yours, burying himself in your neck and burying his cock fully into you in the same motion.

You gasped out at the sudden feeling.  

He didn’t wait long before moving.  Your walls clenched around him as he picked up his pace and your nails were scraping against his back before you knew it.

You hooked both of your legs around his waist giving him a position to move deeper inside of you.  He took what you gave him and started to pound into you at a pace that had you unable to hold back your moans, they had now turned almost to screams of pleasure.

Mingi made his own beautiful noises, grunts and groans that you’d be committing to memory forever.

You wished that this moment could last forever..

But, as he started to roll his hips into you now at the most desperate and careless pace so far, you knew he was close to his finish.

“y/n…” he whined out needily before biting down on your shoulder and thrusting himself into a few more rough times.

You could feel the warmness of his cum filling you up as he stilled.  He gasped out a soft “F-fuck” as his cock twitched and emptied every last drop that you were milking out of him, slowly moving your hips while he reveled in the moment of his orgasm.

He pulled out of you and rolled to his side next to you, clutching you tightly and bringing you to his chest.  His eyes shut and he was muttering something too quiet to hear against the top of your head.

He looked so peaceful, and happy, like a man who’d never been touched by all the cruel things that this world had to offer.   Like a Mingi that you wished could stay with you for the rest of your life.

Like the Mingi you wished that he really was.

The second cigarette was while you stood waiting, it was for the nerves of Mingi’s safety.

Every time that goofy smiling man went into one of the buildings your crew was told to show at, you feared for his life.

You’d never asked him or Blue why they got onto Crimson Rexcruit.  It was sort of customary not to ask.  They’d never asked you why you joined.

You wouldn’t have minded if they did.  It was pretty simple for you.  You wanted money, and you didn’t really have many skills, but you craved shiny things.

Blue seemed to fall into the same boat as you, he loved all of the flashy and pretty things that came with the money crime brought in, and all of his talents aligned well with this line of work.

Mingi though you never understood.  

Why would such a sweet, well mannered and kind person take up a life of stealing and...whatever else it was he did that you didn’t want to think about when he went into jobs.

You didn’t like to watch in on him, keeping your eyes to the outside, making sure you could tip the crew off if things seemed off or cops were on their way.

That didn’t mean you weren’t curious, curious about the man that Mingi turned into that would get him to force a cashier to hand over their entire store’s safe.

Did he scream? You’d never heard him scream…

Not before today that was.

Did he threaten them?

Did he always bring that gun…

“Mingi?” you asked softly to the man nuzzling his head against you.  You reached out to play with a few strands of his hair.

“Yes?” he mumbled into you.

*Ask him why he brought the gun…*

“Where do you think Blue is…”

Mingi’s body tensed up, he stopped nuzzling against you.

“I-” he bit down hard on his lower lip and shut his eyes. “Can’t we just have this moment?”

*of course we can.  Please let's stop this and just have this moment*

“No...I need to know Mingi.” your voice spoke.

He slowly sat up, pulling himself back into his pants.  You sat up with him, tugging a knit blanket that was hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping yourself in it.  It was itchy against your skin, but you’d shivered the moment Mingi’s touch left you.

“Y/n…” His hands were balled into tight fists, you were scared he might break a finger.

*Tell him it's okay.  Tell him he doesn’t need to worry about this right now.*

“Please Mingi, tell me what happened...all of it.” your voice spoke sternly.

Mingi’s head snapped right to you, and he let the words just fly out.

“I shot him.  He’s dead, I shot him.” his tone was emotionless but his hands were shaking so hard…

*reach out and grab him*

“You...what…” your voice was wavering now.

“I went to grab the gun from him after he shot the two men...I- it happened so fast...we were both screaming...I was telling him to give it to me and somehow we got on the ground…” now he was falling apart, choking on every word. “He had the gun pointed to my fucking head.  He had his finger on the fucking trigger and he said ‘They told me I could kill all of you and walk out of here, you owe me your life asshole’ he screamed it and...I wasn’t even thinking.” He buried his hands in his hair and tugged down hard. “Damnit.” he muttered “I turned it on him, then I grabbed it and fucking turned it on him...and just...shot…”

You were like a statue in place, your blood might have even stopped flowing, your heart definitely stopped beating.

That...didn’t sound like Mingi.

Mingi would’ve thrown away the gun.

“Wh-” You trembled, not able to bring out anything more.

“You don’t understand what it's like when you’re in there y/n.” he sucked in a wavering breath, trying to collect himself but speaking in a raspy voice. “It’s like you’re in survival mode...things in your brain work a bit differently...um” he shook his head, “that's not an excuse.  Fuck. Fuck” Mingi grabbed a television remote from the table next to him and threw it at the wall angrily, it hit and split into a few pieces, the batteries flying across the other side of the room.

‘ *Hold him. Please.  Let me reach out and hold him* ‘

“I can’t even look at you…” your voice muttered.

‘ *no…let me look at him a little longer* ‘

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick…” your voice spoke again.

Everything was spinning and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at anything but your hands in your lap.

‘ *not yet, not yet,* ‘

“Y/n. I’m so...fucking sorry.  Dammit he was my best friend. How do you think I feel?” his broken voice rang in your ears, yet you still didn’t look up at him.

A loud clock started to tick in your ears, it thumped louder than your heart was beating in your chest.

‘ *not yet, please not yet,* ‘

If you could do anything to turn back time…

To change things, to make this moment anything but what it was…

‘ *Tell him you love him.* ‘

Louder than everything you’d heard today was the knock on the door, and the voice that yelled out.

“Police! Open up! You’re surrounded!”

You turned to face Mingi in horror, watching as he snapped into action running to the kitchen and grabbing the gun from the drawer he’d stashed it in.

“Mingi wait you don’t have to-” You gasped out, grabbing his arm as he rushed frantically back into the living room with you.

He looked crazed, an opposite man to the one cuddled to your side only moments ago.

*Ask him why he brought the gun*

He nervously fumbled with the safety on the gun and then turned to you.

“Get the fuck in the other room.” He was serious and stern, his eyes were pleading.

‘*Let me stay with him. Please. Please.*’

The voice outside the door yelled out again.

“We’re coming in!” It boomed out in warning.

“I said GO!” Mingi screamed, his whole body shaking with the force of his words.

There was a crash of something hitting the front door.

You had your eyes on Mingi, and he had his wide nervous eyes on the door as he raised his gun, held it out in front of him towards where the noise had come from.

And time stood still.

The world went quiet. All except for a sob that ripped through your throat as you fell to your knees.

“PLEASE!” you screamed out.  Finally the voice that had been in your head begging to be let out was speaking.  “Mingi I love you!”

He was still frozen, holding the gun out in front of him.  In front of him the door was hung in mid air, it had been busted through by the police and you could see the start of a leg that had begun to push its way into the house before everything stopped.

“Let me tell him I love him.” your hands were pressed to the floor grasping at nothing as you sobbed.

A voice echoed in the room.

“You know we can only let you do things that were in your memories.”

“I know...but can’t we try?” you pleaded, staring at the ceiling, not quite sure where to direct your attention.

“No,  It's impossible.” it spoke in monotone.

You took one last look at the beautiful troubled man in front of you, studying every last image, photographing his eyes, his lips, his hands, even though they were clutching that gun.

The gun that you will never even at your dying breath be able to figure out why he had on him that day.

You’d hoped to also find a bit of clarity here for that.

But, like it had been all your life, it would stay a mystery to you.

It seemed like you’d only blinked and you were back in a blindingly white room.  

The beeping of monitors clicked everywhere around you.

“Hello y/n.  Welcome back.” The voice from inside the room spoke to you.  It belonged to a man in a white coat who stood over you now.  

He reached down to your arm and started to check the chords and tubes you were hooked up to.

Your arm…

You looked down to see the wrinkled and aged skin that had seen many many years after that day, but had never forgotten what it felt like to touch Mingi.

Mingi had died that day, almost seconds after that last moment you saw him. The police had seen the gun in his hands and there was no hesitation.

You had cowered on the ground beside him, holding him as long as you could.. It had taken two officers to pull you off of his body.

“I’m sorry that It didn’t get to be everything you wanted…” The doctor spoke, his hand hovering over a blue button.  “Are you still ready?”

Was it everything you wanted?

No...not quite.

But life never really was.  That didn’t make the good parts any less enjoyable.

“Yes. I’m ready.  I got to see his face one last time.”

The doctor nodded, “You’ve had a hell of a life y/n.”

You felt a warm smile grow on your face and you shut your eyes, relaxing back into your bed.

Mingi’s body melting smile flashed one last time in your mind.

“Yeah, I really have.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez smut #mingi angst #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #mingi fanfic #mingi x you #ateez x you #mingi

[cherry-holland]

Safe Haven - h.o.

Summary - sometimes, your safety bubble needs a good pop.

A/N - HI everyone!! So this is my first one-shot in what seems like forever to me, so please go easy on me!!! I was originally gonna go with a different storyline, but my heart was set on this sooo here we are ���

Warnings - nothing but fluff, maybe a slight bit of angst, but mainly fluff 🥰

~~~~

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You ask while your best friend, Clara, drags you and the tall, faux leather heels you’d rather not be in tonight along the pebbled pavement.

“Yes, (y/n), now will you stop worrying and have a good damn time? Let loose girl!” Clara laughs.

A deep sigh leaves your mouth as a silent agreement. You and a few friends were in London for the week vacationing, and they all had planned the entire trip without your knowing. It had all been great - you got lost in the lovey, whimsical streets of London with your closest friends while enjoying all of the delicacies it had to offer. But tonight, you just wanted to stay at the Airbnb and just enjoy each other’s companies... and of course, your friends had other plans.

Clara and the rest of your crew wanted to taste a bit of the London nightlife, and they whisked you out of your sweats and into a tight, form fitting red dress that did an amazing job at highlighting your cleavage and curves. Everyone was dressed to the nines tonight, and you knew where you were headed before you even left the house because of the obvious club attire.

Back home, you were not much of a party girl. You were the girl who would rather be cuddled up on the couch, with a good cup of coffee in hand, and an amazingly sappy rom-com playing in the background. It took a lot out of your friends to get you to even agree to go to London, even though you had always wanted to go since you were little. You liked to know what was going to happen next - the expected was safety. The only safety you knew.

Your felt that bubble start to expand when you and Clara reached the entrance of the club. It was a small, cozy-yet-edgy building that had various different colored lights cascading outside of the door, illuminating the dark and gloomy evening. You and Clara breezed by the line of people anxiously waiting to get in, hearing muffled groans as you two walked by.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you missed when Clara slipped the bouncer a big bill, and gave a sly wink as he let the two of you through. You felt Clara tug on your hand as you two weaved through the massive crowd of people inside. People who had drinks in hand, dancing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. As if their safety bubble was non-existent.

“Hey guys, we’ve made it!” Clara exclaimed as she reached the table with the rest of your friends. She tossed her long, dark locks as she sauntered over to give the group a hug, and you followed suit.

“Well, well, well, we finally got (y/n) inside of a club! Thought we’d never see the day!” One of your friends, Allie, spoke as she gave you a hug, feigning surprise.

“Oh hush, Allie, we can’t all be big partiers like you,” you snap back sarcastically, drawing a hoard of laughter from the group.

“Oh, (y/n), you’re too much,” your other friend, Elias, sighs, shaking his head jokingly. “Are y’all gonna get drinks, or are you gonna just stand there while we get plastered?”

“Trust me, we’re getting this bitch wasted tonight!” Clara shouts, nudging you. “She needs to let loose, and hell, maybe find a man...”

“Clara,” you gasp, slapping your friend on her shoulder. “I am in no way gonna be man-hunting tonight! We’re in a foreign country, and I am not a one-night-stand kind of girl! We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know (y/n/n),” Allie shakes her head, and her face changes from one of playfulness to seriousness. “Really though, you should though! You’re exactly right - you’re in a foreign country... if you can call England that. And, you look freaking hot as hell, you should own it!”

You bow your head down as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, having your hair cover your obvious blush. Compliments have never been easy for you, regardless of who they’re coming from. But you knew deep down inside that you did look good, and you took a deep sigh. Your friends were right - you knew you looked good, and you also knew that no matter what happened, that your friends were here to help you if anything.

“Fine, let’s go get some drinks,” you look up to Clara, who’s grinning wickedly.

The two of you navigate the crowd as you reach the bar. Clara flags down the bartender as you lean against the cold, shiny edge of the mahogany table, just taking in the scenery. British clubs were a lot different than American clubs, but in a way they all have the same vibe. People getting drunk. People dancing suggestively against strangers and friends. The random couples sprinkled throughout making out like if it’s the last time they’ll see each other. It’s all the same.

“Hey, (y/n), what drink do you want?” Clara shouts, her thick Spanish accent shining through her words.

“Um, I’ll have a Long Island iced tea!” You reply with a smile.

“Hmm, never seen anyone order that around here before,” you hear a heavily accented voice to your right.

You turn around to see probably the most beautiful boy you have ever laid your eyes on. His dark blonde hair was slightly gelled back, but you could see he had gorgeous little ringlets sitting atop his head. His piercing light blue eyes were glimmering, with what seemed to be genuine intrigue, but you think it could just be the alcohol from the beer in his hand. He’s smiling this big, movie star smile, all teeth, and you can make out the smallest faint of a dimple in his left cheek.

“Oh, um, yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you mutter, and that same heat is instantly back on your cheeks, threatening to take over your entire face.

The boy smiles as he raises his eyebrows curiously at you, and you instantly knew he caught you staring a bit too long. “Ah, I see. You’re not from ‘round here, are you?” He drawls, his charming accent oozing out.

“No, I think that’s pretty obvious,” you laugh nervously, ruffling your neatly done hair to one side.

“Yeah, your accent alone gave you away before I heard the drink order,” he replies, mimicking your nervous giggle. “I’m Harrison.”

“Oh hey, I’m (y/n). Didn’t know my accent was a dead giveaway that soon,” you grin, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

“Love, that accent can be easily picked out in this place. It’s not everyday you see such a gorgeous American in some small, unknown club in the heart of London,” Harrison says, moving a bit closer to you with that damn charming smile and glint of mischief in his blue eyes.

You felt yourself blushing for the third time that night at his comment. Gorgeous American? Is he serious? “Well, then it must be my luck, huh?”

“I guess it is, darling,” Harrison smirks as he takes a swig of his beer.

“(Y/n/n)! I have your -“ Clara interrups the moment between you and Harrison, and a devilish grin paints her face. “Oh hello. Sorry to interrupt you guys, I’ll leave you two to your conversation.” She walks away after handing you your drink before you two could even respond, sending a wink your way.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry about her,” you start, groaning at her response.

“It’s okay. My mates would have done the same thing, give or take a few comments,” Harrison replies with a chuckle.

The two of you laugh at his comment, and you both look up at each other with flushed faces.

“So, (y/n), what brings you to London?”

The question brings about a flurry of conversation between the two of you, and you notice how easy it was to talk to Harrison. He made conversation so easily, just talking about everything from his job and his family, and his attentiveness to your responses was attractive. He didn’t seem like a douchebag who only wanted a quick shag, he seemed... so safe, yet something about him was alluring.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been just talking for... holy shit, almost two hours?” You say as you look at your phone after a while. “Oh my God, Harrison I am so sorry I’m taking you away from your evening.”

“No, no, love. You’re not bothering me at all. Actually, it’s quite the opposite,” Harrison insists, laying a hand on top of yours that was perched on top of the bar counter. “You’ve made this evening far more bearable for me. I’m enjoying your company.”

Holy shit. You feel your lips curl up in a bashful smile as you desperately try to keep your cool. “Well, Harrison, I am enjoying your company too.”

You felt the strong hit of the one too many Long Island iced teas you’d had while taking to Harrison hit you, and the liquid courage it brings. You intertwine your hand that was underneath Harrison’s and felt his soft yet slightly rough hand easily slip through your tiny, smooth one. You placed your free hand on Harrison’s thigh, with your eyes flickering up to him. You felt the immense heat of desire flare up in your chest as your (y/e/c) eyes locked with his icy blues.

Harrison’s leg tensed, and you saw his cheeks turn from a slight pink from the alcohol to an almost deep red at your touch. You saw his eyes go soft, and it nearly made your heart burst out of your chest.

You also noticed his eyes flickering down to your neatly painted red lips, and back up again to your eyes. Once again, those damn baby blues caught your heart off-guard, and you swore he could hear your heart pounding like crazy. Going crazy with desire, want, need. It was as if they had this magnetic force that was driving you towards him, like it was your achellies heel.

Harrison and you were slowly moving towards one another, that magnetic force too obvious to deny. “Can... can I kiss you?” Harrison whispered so softly that you almost missed it.

You two were so close that the words ghosted your skin as you nodded softly, leaning in to lock your lips together. The kiss was something you had never experienced before. It was slow and passionate, displaying words of affection you had no idea how to express. It was as if someone had lit the beginning end of a sparkler in the darkest of July evenings. A spark that you and Harrison couldn’t deny much longer.

You broke away slightly from the mesmerizing kiss to catch your breath. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” Harrison breathed out a chuckle, resting his forehead on yours. “That was...”

“Amazing,” you finished, eyes fleeting back to his, and you felt your heart soften and swell at his gaze.

“(Y/n), I can’t let you leave without asking to see you again,” Harrison confessed. “I don’t know what it is, but I have this feeling that you’re... I don’t know... supposed to be in my life.”

You twisted your face slightly in confusion at his words, but the soft expression never left it. “Hmm, how so?”

Harrison sighed as he gazed into your (y/e/c) orbs. “I’m not sure, but I feel this attraction to you, and I’m afraid if I let you go, I’ll lose you for good. And, I don’t want to lose that... this.”

His hand slowly came up to your face and caressed your cheek, feeling the warmth of your face in his hand. “To be honest, me either,” you reply. “It’s crazy though, we barely know each other, but I feel like it’s...”

“Fate,” Harrison finished, leaning in to give a full, passionate kiss to your lips.

In that kiss, you felt all your emotions burst out of your safety bubble. This was someone who you had just met, but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. It was crazy the effect Harrison had on you, even from the first glance. He was your safe space, and your taste of adventure, and it was something you didn’t want to let go of, in this little club in the streets of London. This little safe haven.

tagged: @hazssouthernbelle

#harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield one shot

[jebentnietalleen]

For the prompt: 1. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” 👀

Four years and 5 months. That’s how long Lucas has known Eliott. From that very first day, they had a spark. A click, if you will. He knew when their eyes met across the room when they first met in the foyer, that Eliott would be important to him somehow. Granted, he had something else in mind at the time. Who could deny that Eliott is fucking gorgeous, after all? 

His magnetic eyes and intense stare had pulled him in. That sweet, alluring smile of his made his stomach do crazy things he never felt before. But that feeling made room for another feeling, another way to look at Eliott. Forced by Daphné to paint the foyer together, they started to bond and became close friends in just a few weeks. He quickly learned that Eliott had an amazingly funny sense of humor, that he was sweet and caring, and… that he had a girlfriend. It was rough, at first, knowing that all the silly banter they had going on wasn’t considered flirting on Eliott’s part. But Lucas figured that in the end, it was for the best, because now Eliott was one of the best friends he ever had, and he is pretty sure he couldn’t have said the same thing if they actually messed around back in the day.

It took him some time to get over the fantasy of him and Eliott, to accept that this was never going to go further than friendship. Some days it was easy: Eliott would pick up Lucille and kiss her and Lucas could clearly see the love there. And when Lucas started to date Léon, well, it didn’t necessarily fixed things, but it did give him enough distraction to start and move on from all that mess. Other days, it was a bit of a challenge. For example, when Eliott and Lucille broke up, which made Lucas question everything again because all of the sudden Eliott became a possibility like he hadn’t been for years.

He knew that Eliott wasn’t straight. There had been moments in which he’d offhandedly complimented a guy, saying stuff like ‘he has beautiful eyes’ or: ‘wow, what a stunning man’ and yeah, there was also that time that they talked about dating and Lucas had said something along the lines of: ‘it must be different when you date girls’ which, okay, he will admit, was a stupid thing to say and maybe there was a part of him that was trying to find out what Eliott’s reaction would be. He hadn’t expected him to say that he doesn’t only date girls.

Things became a bit awkward between them for a bit after that, mostly because Lucas didn’t know how to be around him anymore. Eliott had tried his best to sooth his nerves, even though he probably didn’t even know what was going on and that he was helping him out that much. All that he needed to do is give him a soft smile and a quick hug and it would feel like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He still couldn’t quite believe that he actually found someone with whom he had such a great connection. Of course, it was still easy to get lost in his eyes, to think that maybe it wasn’t that normal to have a staring contest with your best friend that could leave you breathless, or to think about him when you are falling asleep, or waking up for that matter. But he could put that aside. He wouldn’t throw away their friendship for anything. So, he decided long ago, that he’d rather have Eliott as a friend and burry all his extra feelings for him, than not have Eliott at all.

Besides, all this time he was still dating Léon, and he was also very sweet and caring. That’s why he didn’t see it coming when Léon decided it was maybe time to take a breather. He felt blindsided. Eliott and the boys had been there for him right away, clapping him on the shoulder and making plans to let him forget all about Léon for the night.

That’s how he finds himself in a club, four years and five months after he first met Eliott, seeing him absolutely drunk for the first time since they’ve known each other. It’s rowdy inside, the beat of the music going through him like nothing else. The dancefloor is crowded and people are sweaty, the heat from outside has poured in. He catches Yann’s gaze from where he’s standing at the bar next to Eliott, shakes his head a little bit as if to say don’t you think he’s had enough? Yann just shrugs, the universal sign that says he isn’t listening to me, maybe you can come and intervene? And so he goes, up to the bar and next to Eliott’s other side, sliding an arm across his back to draw him closer, unable to talk into his ear otherwise. It’s as if Eliott is made out of liquid with how easy he leans into him, has to steady himself from falling by grabbing Lucas’ shoulder. It shouldn’t make him feel warmer in an instant, and yet. ‘Hey, Eliott. You wanna go and dance for a bit? Get some water and just chill?’ He feels Eliott’s eyes wander down his face to his lips and up to his own eyes, and he shakes his head with a mischievous grin on his face. ‘Nope. I wanna take a shot, and you are taking one with me. Come on, you’re the one who is suppose to get over Léon tonight.’ Lucas furrows his brow: ‘Why do you say his name like that?’ is he missing something here? ‘Pfff, you know why. What asshole would dump you like that?? Or would dump you at all? Léon isn’t even worth mentioning, now come on, bottoms up!’ Eliott pushed a shot glass into his hand and is already raising his own to his mouth, but Lucas is to stunned to do anything. ‘Lucas!! Come on don’t fall behind on me now!’ Eliott wraps his hand around Lucas’, the one holding the shot glass.

For a minute it looks like he wants to pretend like he is giving food to a baby, making a face while saying: ‘open wide’. He does open his mouth, partly on instinct and partly because all his energy flows to his hand, and the feel of Eliott’s warm around his own. He takes the shot, and before he can pull his hand away, he feels a finger linger at his mouth. Eliott grins at him while he orders two more shots, letting go of Lucas entirely. It’s weird how much he immediately misses his touch. Another shot gets pressed into his hands.

‘What should we toast on?’ Eliott asks, although the question in his eyes seem to be a different one, one he can’t quite place despite knowing him for all this time. ‘To our friendship?’ Eliott stays quiet, his look changes to a slightly more challenging one. ‘What? What’s wrong?’ Eliott downs his shot without looking away. ‘You really are gonna make me say it huh?’ he chuckles to himself, looking down and up again: ‘Okay. Here goes. We’re not just fucking friends and you know it.’ Lucas feels his face draw white at that. What is going on here? ‘I’m – you. What now? What do you mean by that?’ Eliott can’t seem to look him in the eye, keeps hopping from one foot to the next. ‘Forget it. Sorry, that came out wrong. I’ve been trying to get myself to talk to you all night, drinking shots because in vino veritas and all that. But clearly that was a bad idea, shut up, Eliott’

Lucas hadn’t even realized that he moved closed to Eliott while he was talking, until he found him self standing so close that he had to tilt his head up even more to talk to him. ‘Hey, none of that. You don’t have to shut up, I was just trying to figure out if I got what you meant. Eliott… are you saying that you think we should be more than friends? As in, date?’ just saying it out loud made his cheeks warm up and his chest expand. Eliott tilts his chin up with his fingers, softly steering his face: ‘I’m saying that I think we’ve always been more than friends and we have just been in denial about it. And yes, I would really really want to take you out on a date.’ Lucas throws his arms around Eliott’s neck: ‘Could we maybe do that tomorrow? Because I really want to kiss you as soon as possible, and I don’t kiss drunk guys in clubs.’ Eliott snorts: ‘Such a snob. Sure, let’s do that.’ They dance that night, full of promises of all things left to come.

#skam france #elu fic #my fic #hope you like it selin <3 #sorry for the long wait haha #also i tried to put a 'to read' but my fckng computer is not doing what i want so shfsjfhs sorry for the longness

[dotzines]

Artist spotlight: Linkyu!

✿ Patreon ✿ Twitter ✿ Tumblr ✿ Pillowfort ✿ DeviantArt ✿ PIXIV 

Header source: [X]  

Introduce yourself Hi, I'm Linkyu; I am here as a digital artist, but I'm also an independent game developer at Duality Workshop. My favourite genre is Sci-Fi, closely followed by Fantasy. I like to write dark themed stories, but most of the time I'll make sure to make them hopeful. I don't like sad endings. As for the fandoms I'm into... I'd say, mostly Touhou; everything else has been a thing of the moment, but touhou stayed. When did you start drawing? Are you a digital or traditional artist? I started drawing more seriously a bit before I entered college, when I entered a dA RP group, before groups actually existed. Yeah, remember that? Good times. I then got more serious-er when I was around 20, but have been struggling to stay productive in art for the past few years. I really enjoy traditional, but my go-to is usually digital. Do you use any traditional mediums? If so, which are your favorites? Mostly, pencils and China ink. Given the chance, I'd like to get more into oil painting though!

image source: [X]   Why do you prefer traditional over digital? (or viceversa) It's a matter of convenience, really. I can try many things quickly digitally, and simply swap layers or try modifiers on the go to see what sticks. Also, there's no Ctrl-Z on paper. What do you think is the most challenging part about being a traditional/digital artist? Since you can undo every stroke, it's easier to lose commitment on a piece. Similarly, files are very easy to hide and forget, in my experience. What inspires your pieces? For the most part, it's from what I think is Cool. Or if I feel like a story would have a stronger impact with a picture, then it would inspire me to draw that. But mostly, it's cool things that inspire me. Things that make you go "wow", you know? If those things make me go "wow" enough to be inspired to draw something about them, then hopefully I can make people go "wow" from that too.

image source: [X]   Explain your "everyday" drawing process It's kind of all or nothing. I either have a very detailed scene in my head, or just a basic idea. Either way, though, it all starts with a very rough sketch with thick lines, then I refine it once or twice, make it a clean lineart, put some flats, then I colour correct while I shade the picture. Depending on what I have in mind, I might skip some steps if I just want to get something out, rather than focus on the technical skill of it. Do you have an artist you admire (or more than one)?

Recently, I've been huge on Jack McGee (@DroolingDemon on tumblr)! The vibe and dynamism of his art is exactly the kind that I've tried to achieve but couldn't see how. His current webcomic (Star Impact -- check it out!!!) has taught me a lot about technique that drastically sped up the way I draw. Is there an artwork you are most proud of? Why? There's this piece I'm working on, where I'm trying to push myself as far as I can currently go, and I really like it so far; I can't show much yet, but the last time I've done that, 6 years ago, is still the piece I'm the most proud of: https://feryuu.tumblr.com/post/60925152689

Do you listen to music (or tv shows/films/anything else) when drawing? Ye-- currently it's a lot of western music, but EDM is a common one, usually. I tend to avoid lyrical songs though because otherwise I end up distrating myself singing along and... not ... drawing,,,

image source: [X]   What makes art interesting for you? Art is an incredibly powerful medium for conveying messages and feelings. I like that about it. What do you do when art block strikes? When I feel like I can't draw anything, or that no idea seems good enough, I just settle for less. Each day is not worth the same quality, so I shouldn't worry about what I end up doing. Once I stop worrying about what I'm doing, I tend to actually go further than I intended, actually... What’s the most valuable art advice you’ve ever received?

Always Colour Your Pieces. It's okay to make sketches; I regularly participate in Sketchavember, actually. But unless you really work it out and polish the B&W aesthetic of the piece, it will be glossed over in a feed. Coloured pieces grab the eye a lot more. Besides, I believe colour theory to be a fundamental base, so, any excuse to practice colouring is a good excuse in my book.

#Linkyu #artist spotlight #red zone artists #red zone

[vanaera]

Point of Origin and Intersections

Summary | People come and go at certain points of your life. You just didn't expect you’ll find yourself and Seokjin back to where you started. Prompt | 22. Things you said after it was over (bass guitarist!seokjin medicine student!you) Genre | Angst, some fluff, non-explicit smut Wordcount | 2,219 A/N | I drew inspiration from Paper Towns so if you see the familiar "Anything's ugly up close," quote, that's that :) I recently finished the book and I can't get it out of my head.

           “Day 1: June 10, Sunday morning, the clouds were grey and foreboding, the forecaster lied about having a good weather. I read about James Hutton yesterday. He said ‘there is no prospect of an end’ and I’m halfway through understanding it.”

           “What are you writing?”

           Your hand stops your scribbling on your notebook to look at him. “It’s nothing.” Tucking the notebook back in your bag, you fixed your seat in the passenger side of his car, and settled your elbow against the window. Looking at the barren road comes off quite direful so you set your gaze instead on the man behind the wheel, his hand rested on the steering wheel and it’s been a while since that hand held yours.

           Kim Seokjin is a handsome man, and it was the first thing that crossed your mind when you met him in Incheon airport three years ago. You remember it was around June because he ended up seating by your side in the plane and told you he’ll be spending his summer vacation at his friend’s summer house in LA. He was talkative, even when you first met him, and at that time it was only natural for him because you realized he was afraid of turbulences on flight. You had to grab his hand tight and coaxed him to tell you he’s a business major but he didn’t like his course, he’s also a sub-vocalist and bass guitarist in a band his friends formed, or that he also wants to visit Universal Studios once he lands on American land. You chuckled then, and told him you’re going to LA because of your older brother’s college graduation, and that you might go to Universal Studios too when you have extra time. The 14-hour flight turned out to be too short for the both of you that when you finally landed on the airport, Seokjin asked for your number, and you find yourself stuck with your phone for the next days as you text each other back and forth.

           June transgressed to September and it was fall when Seokjin appeared in the gates of your college campus just to ask you out. You were bewildered at first but then he laughed and reminded you that you mentioned your college to him and the studio his friend rent with him was in the next neighborhood, so it was easy for him to finally find you. You snorted at your own short memory and he told you it’s alright. That night, you found yourself having dinner at Burger King and he walked you back to your dorm which earned him a quick peck on his cheek.

           The next months blended into each other and you really didn’t care then. As the leaves of golden hues fell down one by one, you also find yourself falling for Seokjin and his mellow songs, and the callous on his fingers that you told him was weirdly pleasing on your skin when he touched and explored the slopes of your body in so many nights he had you feeling on top of the world. You never had a relationship with a man so free-spirited before and you think it was that quality of him you never thought you needed when your life is so restrained with deadlines, responsibilities, and the cleanliness and whiteness of the laboratories that almost became your second home.

           “You know you have to slow down sometimes right? Your medicine course have a heavy workload and your small body won’t take it in one go,” he hums against your throat as he peppers kisses on your jaw that had you mewling against him.

           “Well,” you detach yourself from him, breath ragged from his earlier ministrations after a romantic dinner he prepared, “I would think about it but for now,” you smile before you kiss him again, teeth sinking on his plush lips that had him groaning, “just keep going because I think I could take you in one go.”

           He chuckles before he settles your back gently on his pristine sheets, the huge span of his shoulders enough to blanket your bare heart thrumming for him. “Let’s see then if you can, darling.”

           It was spring when you introduced each other to your own families and you found yourself cackling at his bad puns while you carry your boxes inside a flat you both bought with a clean split. Moving in with Seokjin filled you both delight and contentment especially when your boyfriend had already filled every room of your heart with his love and yours, and just the both of you with so much more and nothing less.

           But there are things you can’t avoid to see when you’re finally fully inside someone’s life, enough to draw one’s days and sketch one’s future. You remember one day when you did a road trip that led you going up some abandoned building just to have a magnificent overview of the city where you belonged.

           “It’s amazing,” you said out loud, “when you see everything from a distance. I mean I remember there’s some rickety building across our apartment and I could barely see the cracking paint or the rusted metal works of that building from here.”

           “Anything’s ugly up close, the evident details make it hard to be invisible.” He said.

           “Not you though,” you looked at him smiling.

           “Of course, he grins and you hit his shoulder playfully. “Of course, it’s not us” he envelops you in his arms as you both watched the hues of the sunset warm up the grey, bleak city.

           It turns out you answered his statement without thinking. Your family once told you their concern about Seokjin’s occupation, a situation that your friends also remarked was quite unsteady.

           “Seokjin is a lovely man, dear, and he clearly loves you. It’s just, I think he has to be more serious in his business major than the gigs he goes to.” You remember your mother telling you this some Sunday morning when you went home.

           And you think maybe it’s your fault you let it fester in your mind more frequently than needed that you started talking to him about this instead of with him. You think he felt inferior to your promising studies and the fact that maybe he thinks you look down on him for his not-worth-mentioning marks in his college that he started shutting you out more frequently than he wanted. Fights started with just an easy flick of temper and it tediously dragged on days, sometimes weeks. They don’t typically end, no resolve was reached - just halted because you’ll go to him, or him to you and you’ll find yourselves entangled in your love you built in your home. You think it’s a good thing both of you can’t wander too far away from each other although it’s some kind of a settlement to make up for the gap between you two when your mindsets won’t budge away from the positions they’re in.

           However, the final strike that blows all the proportions out of order comes when you learned Seokjin dropped his major and set his mind going solo in his music journey. His friends told you they fought when they told your boyfriend the gigs they do is just for extra income and that they weren’t really planning to make an unsteady career as their fundamental source of income. And true to their words, you found the boy in some tiny disheveled studio crammed between sloppy constructions in some rough neighborhood. This must be where he hides from you when your fights drive him away from your home. The shock on his face was beyond words, but so is your anger as you confronted him, told him what your family, friends, his friends think about his life choices, and what you really think of him. This time, you don’t see it’s your fault when he won’t budge, when he told you hurtful words you know he didn’t mean, when he won’t see how absurd it was for him to throw away his opportunities in exchange for something he’s not even sure to begin with.

           “I did not in any way downgrade you and yet you have the privilege to do so, wow, Y/N,” he claps, mocking you in every way he can, “how very nice of you.”

           “I’m not degrading you! I’m just telling you this isn’t for you!” You shouted. “What do you expect me to say, huh? The bills won’t pay themselves and I can’t keep thinking love will solve it all when the world and everything will drain us with every cent we’ve got.”

           He’s looking at you with his lips closed and you finally let out the things you’ve been worrying about, things you’re too afraid to talk about so you closed them off to him. You’re planning to tell him someday when you’re finally prepared but now you know, you really needed to let them out in the open. “What if we build our own family, sure I may work at some hospital and come home every night but you’ll always be gone and I can’t let my kid have a father who’s barely there!”

           “Then I can’t stay with you.”

           “What?”

           “I’m tired of you breathing down on my neck every now and then. I can’t have that. I want to break up, Y/N.”

           Silence suddenly swept in after the chaos that ensued minutes ago but you can’t have the momentum change now you’re already here. Holding your head high you said, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. Let’s break up. I’m also tired of you, Seokjin.”

           You know you said things you didn’t mean at all but you didn’t think about going back on your words. You know some day will come you’ll say those words, when the ending was already clear in front of you – with the way he lived, the choices he made, and what he said to you when you’re trying to get him back home after running away for so many days - the details make it evident. So before you could back out from your decisions, you accepted the overseas exchange program the next day and started to pack your belongings in the same boxes you brought in.

           When he came home five days later, he wasn’t even surprised to learn from you about the decisions you made, nor the sudden emptiness of the house itself, no longer a home when you already brought with you the things that made it what it was before.

           “I’m going to LA. Can you at least drive me to the airport next week? I can’t bring all of these on my own.”

           He doesn’t look at you and you didn’t expect him to do so. “Okay.”

           He didn’t apologize, he didn’t come home for the next days until the day before your flight just so he could cook you the spaghetti you loved so much, the same one he cooked when he first invited you in his home, as some farewell gift you’d like to think. It’s not enough to quell the pain in your heart but you’ll never let him know of that; you’ll only take what you can get so you smiled at him and thanked him for the meal.

           And now is the first day you’ll start your life again in some country like a clean slate you never dreamed to be. When he stopped the engine in the parking lot, his hand stopped you from unbuckling your seatbelt.

           “Wait.”

           You stop your movement and looked at him, eyes questioning the motive behind his words. Staying with him made it only natural for you to do so.

           He looks at your eyes for the first time now and tells you what you’ve wanted to hear.“I’m sorry, I- I’m really sorry. I know I’m a jerk and all and I just-

           “It’s alright though, Seokjin. It’s okay. I’ll just-

           “Do-Do you really have to go?”

           He can’t do this to you now, not when you’ve let the deal open for so many days. You shake your head and give him an apologetic smile. “I already said yes to their offer and I can’t back out now, Seokjin, I hope you’ll understand that.”

           He doesn’t say anything anymore and helps you unbuckle your seatbelt. He stays quiet, pulling your luggages with him as he leads you to your gate. He remained speechless and just hugged and waved at you when your flight is announced and you already went inside.

           Leaning on your seat, you think about endings and the way they happen, how yours and Seokjin’s happened right where you both started. But before you could deny James Hutton’s hypothesis of the non-existent prospect of endings, you felt your phone buzz against the pocket of your jeans.

           Seokjin: I didn’t mean what I said before and I know it’s already too late but I have to tell you I still love you. I never stopped and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I don’t expect you to feel the same anymore but I’d like to let you know I will wait for you. (9:47 AM).

           You smile before you turned off your phone.

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts reactions #jin reaction #jin scenario #jin fic #kim seokjin #jin #seokjin scenario #seokjin reaction #seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #jin angst #jin fluff #jin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #kim seokjin angst #kim seokjin fluff #jinnie #jin x you #jin x oc #jin x y/n #jin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x oc

[renegadesrpg]

Soulmates, Part 8. Interludes. Layla and Sean

Sean: *wraps my arms around you and buries my face in your hair* It's been a rough day. *sighs*

Layla: I'm sorry love. How can I help?

Sean: Just be here. It's just discouraging to be faced with the reality that there are so many among us who are self-serving. Well... *sighs* Sin will take care of that in the end.

 Layla: Yes he will and you all will be there to aid him as needed. I'm always here for you. *pulls you close*

Sean: *The love she has for me flows over me like a warm blanket of comfort. Sighing...* It's not like it was unexpected. Adrian and I already pretty much knew who could be trusted, but it's still dam....darned exhausting to be right.

 Layla: I can only imagine.

 Sean: *heaving another sigh, I put it behind me. Adrian's in the half-world, keeping guard outside of the cottage but he won't pay any attention to what goes on in here unless I sound an alarm. Knowing he's watching my six, I can let it go. Kissing the top of her head, I hold her for a moment before stepping back and looking down at her.*

So how was your day? What did you do?

 Layla: I crocheted some owls and just put stuff away since I still had boxed things.

Sean: *raising an eyebrow* Some owls? You can crochet owls? I want a' see 'em.*Laugh as she shows me and picking up the blue one* Hey, these are sorta' awesome. I can't believe you just took some yarn and made something like this. I bet Bryn would like one. Owls kinda play into the whole witchy thing.

Layla: Take them to her. They are hers then. I made something for Sin too. Think he'll like it? His heart is heavy, thought he could use a lift.

Sean: Really? I can give them to her? She'll love 'em. I know a couple of goddesses that these would probably make smile too. I might split up the set. *smiles down at her* It always pays to be on the good side of deities. *setting the blue one down with the others as she brings out the painting. A low whistle escapes me*

Wow... that's beautiful. He'll love it. *tilting my head as I look at it* You know, I bet he'd do a showing for you if you decided you wanted one and had a few of these. Or get his gallery manager to. One of his business interests is a gallery Miami. He's got another in San Francisco, but the Miami one specializes in promoting unknown artists. This is pretty awesome.

  Layla: Oh I don't know about that. *bites lip nervously* I started this last week, took me a bit to get the colors just right. Oh and if you know females who would like the owls go ahead and share. I can make more. I like making them. They are easy and cute whether knitted or crocheted.

 Sean: *nods* Thank you, baby. I will. Owls are associated with a few of them. Occasional thoughtful gifts like this make them welcome our presence. But the art...if you decide to do it for more than your own enjoyment, Sin would be the one to talk to. Me, I'm just glad our home will be filled with things as beautiful as you are.

Layla: *smiles and blushes* it will be love.

 Sean: I'm tired baby. *smiles* Are you hungry? I could call up something to eat?

 Layla: A little.

 Sean: What do you feel like? I can get it for you

.

Layla: Something light. A sandwich?

 Sean: What do you like on it?

 Layla: Mmmm roast beef, mayo, and horseradish mustard (a little), and smoked gouda cheese.

Sean: Now that does sound good. With a thought I materialize the sandwiches on china plates, putting them on the kitchen table. I took them from Katz's Deli in NYC. Only Sin can create things out of thin air. The rest of us just move things from one place to another.* Two roast beefs sandwiches with smoked gouda, mayo and light horseradish mustard. With a side of coleslaw and a bag of chips. *grins* I live to serve my female.

 Layla: Mmmm looks almost as scrumptious as you. *takes a big bite of the sandwich* Oh this is yummy!

 Sean: *sitting down, I smile at her enthusiasm. Taking a bite of my own sandwich, then set it down. I gotta admit its good, but I'm not really hungry. Sitting back in my chair I watch her eat, pleased I was able to do something for her.*

 Layla: Been a long day for you, huh love?

 Sean: *smiles tiredly* Yeah it was. Actually, I'm ready to crash. I just like watching you eat.

Layla: *giggles* Come on love....bedtime. *I get up, wipe crumbs off hands, and pull you from seat*

 Sean: *willingly I stand and follow her down the hall. Once in the door I demat my clothes down to boxers and fall into bed, pulling her with me.* Come snuggle.

 Layla: *I strip and lay down in your arms, snuggling close*

 Sean: *naked in my arms, just the way I like her* Night baby. *kisses her gently*

 Layla: Goodnight love. Sleep well.

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Sean: *Mists into the cottage looking for Layla-mine after a long and difficult day with the reaper corps.*

 Layla: Hello my Love

 Sean: *smiles a little tiredly, but damn, it’s good to see a friendly face besides Adrian's after the day I've had.* Hey baby. *pulls you onto my lap* How was your day?

 Layla: *kisses your temple as I land in your lap* It was good. I started something special and got you a present. You look so tired mo chridhe, would you like me to make you food?

 Sean: *leans my head into her kiss and sighs* In a little bit. I'm not really hungry but you should eat sweetheart. But *Tilting my head up and raising my eyebrow* I thought you couldn't cook?

 Layla: I've been practicing. I found these recipe guides on that YouTube. I'm not great but I've learned a couple things that were easy.

 Sean: You have huh? *Smiles* That wouldn't be because you have a male around would it. *teasing, 'cause, I kind of like that.*

 Layla: Well, I kind of like you. Plus, I like learning new stuff. *shrugs my shoulders*

 Sean: *reaches up and kisses you gently* I know you do. It's one of the things I love about you. So what have you learned to cook?

 Layla: Cheesy French bread pizza and cheesy meatloaf.

 Sean: Now you're making my mouth water. *grins, letting the stress channel off of me as I relax with her* Both sound pretty damned good.

 Layla: Good cuz I put the meatloaf in the oven 20 minutes ago. *giggles*

 Sean: *Tease you* Well aren't you a prescient chosen, knowing I'd be home soon. *laughs* Tell me about your day baby.

 Layla: I knitted on a blanket, I read over recipes I want to try and made a grocery list, and I got a delivery. How about you?

 Sean: *My smile fades a little as I think about the day* It went. *sighs* We knew we had disloyal reapers and that's why Adrian and I are going through the corps, so I can probe with my empathy while he talks to them. It's just discouraging to have it confirmed so...clearly.

 Layla: Ah Love, I'm sorry. It must discourage you all too much though. That is what your enemy hopes for.

 Sean: *shakes my head* We already had a pretty good idea of how many and who they were. We've used the recent attack on one of the other lieutenants as a reason to have reapers working in pairs and we've matched them up with people we know are loyal. When the time comes, we've got a plan to neutralize them until the fighting is done. It's just ...*Shaking my head* Sin would never have allowed them into the corps in the first place. He left because he had to, but I don't think he understood the difference having him in charge made. But he does now.

 Layla: I'm sad it went down as it did but glad you have answers now. Would you like your present? It might make you feel better.

 Sean: A present? *the delight is evident on my face* I don't really ever get presents. What did you do Layla-mine?

 Layla: I asked a favor of a Brother. It's small, for boots he said. *I give you the wrapped box and wait for you to open it*

Sean: *ripping away at the wrapping paper like a kid at Christmas, until I get to a polished wooden box. Opening the lid of the box a finely made dagger with a black sheath is revealed. My eyes widen as I take it out of the box. The hilt is an intricate Celtic design and I draw it from the sheath, the razor sharp edge gleams in the light*

 Layla... this is beautiful. *holding it to the light, entranced by the workmanship* And it's deadly. *And will be even more so as a reapers weapon once it’s enchanted. Looking at her as I lay the blade back in the box, I lean forward and kiss her* Thank you. I'll carry it always.

 Layla: I had him add in some of my blood to the metal. No idea how that works but apparently it was doable. And if you look in the hilt....that's a braided lock of my hair. That way I'm always with you. *leans in and kisses you gently* Ohhh the meatloaf is done. Be right back!

  Sean: *continues to examine the blade, touched more than she can possibly understand that she accepts my job so much and loves me enough to make sure a part of her is always with me. She doesn't understand that her blood gives this blade special properties but I do. And I'll have to thank the Brother that did this for her, because I'm pretty sure he knew.*

 Layla: Dinners ready Love. *I place two plates full off meatloaf and veggies on the table.*

 Sean: *carefully laying the dagger aside, I whistle appreciatively* That looks amazing!

 Layla: Hope it tastes good. That's the real test. *chuckles*

 Sean: *cuts into the meatloaf and takes a hot, steaming bite as cheese oozes out* Oh, damn baby, this is awesome. You are amazing at everything you do!

 Layla: *smiles at the praise and love I hear in his voice* Glad you like it. I'm happy it turned out nummy.

 Sean: Baby, *swallowing another bite* I think you should experiment more often. You might not have cooked much but I think you've got a gift. *a little more seriously* You know that reapers don't need to eat or sleep to survive, right? But doing those things is important to us. It keeps our humanity with us. You, whether you’re in my arms at night letting me dream with you, or making things like this that are just amazing, you help me be better. Help me to do my job the way it needs to be done. You make me a better male. And I love you even more for it.

 Layla: *His words tattoo themselves on my heart. I smile even as a tear falls* I love you so much. Thank you for loving me and sharing this all with me even though you don't have to.

 Sean: *brushing her tear away with my thumb* Don't cry Nalla... *smiles, because yes, I've been learning the old language of your people* You're wrong though. I /do/ have to. You're my heart and soul. Now that I've found you, I need you to survive. If I were to lose you...*shaking my head* I wouldn't live through it. I wouldn't want to.

 Layla: Never. You will never lose me. *I grab your face in my hands* We have both been through enough, it will not end. What we have is eternal. That much, I know.

 Sean: * Smiles and leans in to catch her lips, placing one hand atop of one of hers* It is. When we win this, I'll find a way for us to be together through eternity. I promise.

 Layla: I know you will. Now finish your food then I'll show you the blanket I'm working on.

 Sean: *taking another bite and then practically licking the plate* What, a blanket? Knitting? Sure, I want to see it.

 Layla: It's not done yet....

 Sean: *wipes my hands on my napkin and puts my plate in the sink before touching the blanket* Wow. That's beautiful babe. The design is so intricate. How in the hell do you do that, get all the colors like that?

 Layla: I follow the pattern. This one is called Scottish Thistle.

 Sean: *smiles softly* I know. I wasn't sure if you picked it for me or just because you liked it. The pattern is so intricate though. This much must have taken you weeks.

 Layla: Of course I picked it for you. I like making special things for you. I've been working on it for a couple weeks.

 Sean: *cocks an eyebrow...and yes, thanks Sin for passing on that mannerism* Just two weeks? You got all this done in that little time with everything else you do? That's... baby, that's amazing. You do this stuff so well. *smiles* I want this on our bed when we're mated.

 Layla: I can have it done by then. And there are 12 hours, at least, where I have time to do many things. I just give myself time limits is all. *smiles*

 Sean: *kisses you gently* Anyone ever tell you that you're a very efficient and organized Chosen? *sighs* I'm beat babe. I need to recharge.

 Layla: Alright Love. Let's go lay down. *takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom.*

Sean: *closes the door behind us and pulls you to the bed to lay in my arms for the night.*

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Sean: How's my female today? I'm sorry I haven't been around babe.

 Layla: You are busy, I understand, you don't have to apologize love. I'm feeling, what humans call, blah today.

 Sean: *frowns* I'm sorry sweetheart. *slides my arms around you and gives you a soft kiss* How can I make it better?

 Layla: Oh I don't know Love. I'm not sure why I feel this way. I started a new drawing and worked more on the blanket but now...blah. Want to see the new drawing?

 Sean: I'd love to see them. Maybe it'll help chase the blues away.

 Layla: It’s you in wolf form.

 Sean: What I'd look like if I could shift? * tilts my head as I look at the drawing.* I see it around the eyes and face shape. *looks back at you* That's kind of amazing that you can do that.

 Layla: Well, not necessarily as a shifter. But you said you liked wolves so I drew a wolf that I tried to put your personality in and did the same for me in Cheetah form.

 Sean: You did a good job. Aren't pencil sketches a new thing for you?

 Layla: Yes. I was doing charcoal but I didn't like the dirt all over my hands and getting everywhere. *laughs* So, I did a pencil one day instead and it was less messy and gave me the control over smaller details like charcoal did.

 Sean: *snickers* I can see that. But this is a good medium for you. You like the details in things.

 Layla: Yes, I like detail. I like it to mean something when I do it (whatever it may be).

 Sean: I get that. Everything a person does has meaning, causes a ripple that the Fates have to consider. Paying attention to the details gives you a little control over that ripple and what they do with it and the choices they offer you.

 Layla: *nods* That makes sense.

 Sean: For instance, somewhere, some when you created a ripple that caused the Fates to allow us to meet. *smiles* To give you a choice about what to do about it. I'm glad I was your choice.

 Layla: *smiles* I'm sure choices Sin and you made brought you to me, in order for me to have the choice. You and I are forever.

 Sean: *smiles and kisses you lightly* I'm don't know if the Fates write choices for immortals or if they're a "mortals only" thing, baby. *scrunching up my forehead*. I'll have to ask Sin. He's on good terms with them. *grins* They like him.

 Layla: *grins* You've said that before. He must be a wonder with words and deeds. *giggles* He's a good male. *kisses you*

Sean: *Mutters as you reach up for the kiss* That's not all he's a "wonder" with, apparently. *lingers over the kiss before saying more loudly,* Yeah, he was a good man in life and 35,000 years as a reaper hasn't changed it.

 Layla: *I reach between your eyes and whip away the wrinkles that formed there.* He is a good male, true but he does not have my love or my heart as you do. Never worry mo chridhe. *I kiss you again*

 Sean: *Deepens the kiss momentarily, then pulls back* That's a good thing baby. 'Cause I'd hate to have to punch him. He's my captain and besides, I'm pretty sure he could take me.

 Layla: No need to get physical with anyone, well except me. *I grin and wink*

 Sean: *grins back* I'm all for getting physical with you Layla-mine just as often as possible. I'm pretty sure I can "take" you.*winks back*.

 Layla: *laughs* Very often if I have my way Love. I'm sure you can 'take' me too.

 Sean: Baby you can "have your way" with me anytime night or day. Several times.

 Layla: Challenge accepted.

#TBC

[clairetherose]

Draecember2017 Day 17 - Overcoming an Obstacle

Wow I’m so sorry this is 1, so late, and 2, so LONG. This was one I’ve wanted to write for a long, long time, and I guess I just WENT for it. Apologies for over 4300 words. Maybe I’ll finally get caught up, after this. I have a week!

A week had passed since Kelci had mounted the peak of Mount Neverest. She had gotten to know Daolong, at least to a point of casual friendship, over that time. Most of the days had been spent resting, though he did instruct her on ways to better meditate. She’d been practicing that, most of all. “It will help with the training,” He said, every time with a knowing tone in his voice. “Just trust me. It is important that your body and mind are at peace when we begin.” Though she had asked around the town, nobody could give her a straight answer as to what Master Zhao’s training would consist of. The only whispers she could get were that his last pupil had died from it. None seemed very hopeful that they would see her again, after it began. At her own request, she tried to converse as much in Pandaren as she could. If she were to live here for an extended time, it would be best if she learned the language.

Finally, the long awaited day had arrived. Kelci hugged a heavy blanket about her shoulders as they trudged back up into the mountains of Kun-lai. She’d grown more accustomed to moving about in the snow, and her hooves found more purpose with each step. She bore a look of confidence, and was eager to finally begin.

“Nearly there, Kelci.” Daolong called out from just ahead. “We will be going off the path, up here. Follow the sounds of my footsteps.” It was easy enough to do. Daolong wasn’t small, even by Pandaren standards, and his steps were heavy and clear.

Kelci nodded back, “Where are we going, Dao?” She asked, curiously. She’d grown to see him more as a friend than anything else, falling back into a casual, familiar tone.

Daolong clicked his tongue. “Ahh, you forget yourself. I am Master Zhao, to you. Today, your training begins.” He chuckled, heartily, “Do not forget your place, my young pupil.”

Kelci frowned, “You do remember I’m older than you by nearly three thousand years, yes?” She paused, but added, “...Master Zhao.” If it meant her overcoming what she’d lost, she was willing to swallow her pride. Not that she had much left, anyway.

“Mm, good.” Daolong continued to chuckle. The sound of his footsteps stopped, replaced by him grunting and stone grinding against stone. “Ahh, this will do. Come here, Kelci.” He spoke loudly and clearly, so she could find him. “And tell me, what do you know of the Mogu?”

Kelci followed the sounds of his voice easily, stopping when she figured she was very close. She gripped her staff in both hands; the same one she’d cut that first day in Pandaria. “Ahh, not much, really. I’ve heard only a little, since I got here. From what I understand, they’re like… evil, animated statues, right? Something like that?”

Daolong took a few moments to speak again, rolling over the thoughts in his mind. “Hm, close enough. Just know that if you do ever meet one, it will try to kill you.” The rest of the story could come another time. “And also, they have tombs scattered across the mountains. Like here, for instance.” He gently led Kelci forward a little ways. Her hooves started to click on stone beneath, rather than snow, and the air grew musty and dull. They’d likely entered a cave. Kelci wrinkled her nose at the smell of the old air.

“Right, so they’re bad. I got it. What does that have to do with anything?” Kelci didn’t mind the history lesson, but since they were supposed to be training, now, it seemed less relevant. “Also, are we underground?” Though he had grown much quiet, Kelci was still able to stick near Daolong.

This seemed to delight the Pandaren. “Yes, we are underground. And I make sure you know, just in case you meet one.” There was the sound of air moving around his arms and a soft, soothing feeling filled the air around Kelci. “I want you to feel this, right now. Hold onto it. Remember it. This is Chi.” He moved to be directly in front of her. “When you think you can sense the orb I’m holding, I want you to grab it.” An easy task, for someone who could see. “Usually, I blindfold pupils for this part. So you are at no disadvantage. Yet.”

Kelci breathed in the more refreshing air from his weaving. “Chi. Huh. I mean, I can feel it on my skin and in my lungs, but am I supposed to be able to… see it? Or is this something else?” She tried to concentrate on the feelings that the Chi had given her, focus inward on it, as he had said. Daolong refused to answer her questions, remaining silent. Kelci glowered. “...fine. Alright. I’ll try to just… sense it.” She took a deep breath. Her brows knitted upon themselves, and she grew still, going into one of the meditative trances Daolong had showed her.

There was nothing but the usual blackness. In her focused state, the air around seemed to pound inward. Her breath was laborious and filled her chest with tension. The feeling of the Chi she had been given was all that remained, and she poured her whole mind into it. There had to be more to it than what was on the surface. It was cool and soothing, but it had carried another feeling, deeper beneath. One of energy and life. It was on that feeling she concentrated, drawing herself further and further toward it. And then, there it was. A spark.

She reached out and swiftly reached for the space directly above Daolong’s hand. She had sensed the orb he was holding. She even picked up on the faintest outline of his hand beneath. Though not really sure how to do so, she took the Chi in her own hand. She could feel it, sense the movement of energy between her fingers. The warmth spreading from it. She continued to concentrate on that feeling, and brought the orb to rest near her chest, holding it with both hands. “...sorry that took so long.” She said.

Rather than his usual silly nature, Daolong was, in a word, dumbstruck. “No, Kelci, I’ve… never had a pupil so quickly perform that. And certainly never on their first try. And to be able to not just maintain the orb, but grow it…” He sounded legitimately impressed, and laughed. “You will be fine. You may do with that orb as you wish, but I wouldn’t recommend spending too much of your energy on it. You’ll need it for other things.” He turned in place and began to walk.

Kelci balked at the idea, “What? No way, surely you’re not serious. You just say that to motivate new students, right? It’s okay, you do--” The Chi orb abruptly dissipated in her

Daolong turned back and said rather sharply, “I don’t lie about anything. Nor do I paint things as anything less than they actually are. None of what I said is untrue. The first step on your journey is going to be to stop doubting yourself.” He sighed, “But I know how hard that can be. It will likely be the last step of your journey, as well.” He turned again. “I am going to lock the door. I will come back for you in three days. If you are alive, then we can begin. Water can be found somewhere in this cave, as can some limited food. And also Mogu.” He chuckled, “So be cautious. Remember the sense of that Chi you held. That will save your life.”

“Wait-- three days?!” Kelci sputtered, running for him. Her hoof caught on an edge of stone and she stumbled, instead, having to halt. “Master Zhao!” She was too late. The sound of stone on stone told her that the door had been closed. A heavy sound against it told her it had also been locked. She reached it just in time to pound a fist against it. It was in vain, however. She couldn’t hear anything through the stone. Several minutes went by before she could drag herself away.

She had to fight back a feeling of dread building up in her. She wasn’t ready for this, not by a mile. “Three days in a cave full of stuff that wants to kill me.” She sighed out, softly. Having put it to words, she realized it might not be the best idea to speak aloud, anymore. Three days could feel like a long time, or they could pass in an instant. Her best option was to give herself purpose. First, find the water Daolong had spoken of. Thankfully, in the musty air, her hoofsteps didn’t echo as loudly as they normally might have. Likely that the ceiling was lower to the floor, as well. By finding purpose, she could make the days seem shorter.

It took nearly an hour of searching, but through sense of smell and careful movements, she found water. Another hour after that, the bottoms of some hopefully not poisonous root vegetables. For a reason she couldn’t quite place her finger on, she just kind of knew that they were safe to eat. The same with the mushrooms she found. Some gave her a bad feeling, while others felt safe. She gathered up as much as she could, taking it back to a makeshift shelter, near the water source. All of the going was slow, as she had to grope her way around the walls and be careful with her hooves along the rough, stone floor. The first day went by rather quickly and uneventfully. Maybe there was no threat, after all.

On the second day, she awoke to a sinister laughter coming from deeper within the cave. It made the hairs on her arms stand completely on end just by the sound of it and sent a shiver of dread down her spine. Whatever calm had set in after the first day was quickly pushed aside in favor of a gripping, gnawing sense of fear. She stumbled awake, hooves scraping on the stone floor, and she reached for her staff, gripping it tightly in both hands. If there was any advantage she had, it was that whether it was light or dark made no difference, to her. Although, she had no idea if Mogu could see in the dark. Assuming what she heard was Mogu and not anything else. It took effort to force the negative thoughts from her mind, but one remained above the others: doubt. Kelci doubted herself. Doubted her ability to survive, doubted her very nature. As much as she pushed it down, it kept surging back up, biting into her mind. “I’m going to die here,” she whispered to herself. She almost believed it.

It was that ‘almost’ that kept her going. She only almost thought she was going to die. Something sparked in her. This doubt wasn’t natural. She had plenty of doubt, to be sure, but she never fell this far into it. Something one of the passing Monks had said came back to her. A legend.

“The last breath of the ancient slain,

Which breeds one’s doubt to fear in vain,

And though despair may take the mind,

It is only anger found in kind.

And soon from anger hatred breeds,

Where after are only violence’s seeds.

Each of these falls prey to pride,

The last breath, from which one cannot hide,

Where in darkest depths they draw,

They wait beneath in caverns deep,

The Sha.”

“Sha,” She whispered the name to herself. It was a name she’d heard before, in some of the stories travelers had told about Pandaria. Nobody seemed to say or know very much about them, beyond that they were terrifying. She ran through the lines of the legend in her head, again. “Doubt.” She hissed, shutting her mind to its influence as best she could. This wasn’t her doubt; this was something from some creature, deep beneath the stones. She tried to push herself back to her meditative state; of a clear, balanced mind. Like how Daolong had taught her. And slowly, as she sought that feeling of serenity once more, the doubt started to trickle away. Furthered in her resolve, she only focused more, until she found herself wholly at peace.

A long exhale escaped her lips. “You will die here, mortal!” A wicked sounding voice echoed off the walls, startling Kelci out of her trance, “And your soul will feed the rebirth of the Mogu empire!” Heavy steps that sounded like stone on stone carried just as much as the voice did, and Kelci scrambled up to her hooves, heart beating through her chest.

That sense of fear threatened to break through her mind, but she managed to push it back down. She stilled her breathing as much as she could, and tried to step as lightly as possible. Back and away, she moved, using her staff to feel the wall behind her, looking for a place to hide. It would be difficult to fight. She hadn’t fought anything in many, many years, though her body seemed to remember the stances and grips of doing so. Staves weren’t her preferred weapons, but she had trained with them all the same. She shifted into a defensive stance, holding the light bamboo keenly out before her. As if she could see any of the attacks coming.

Then suddenly, an opening. There was a small inlet in the wall and Kelci scrambled inside. She hunched in as much as she could, trying to still her breathing. She hadn’t been followed as she moved; she would have heard something. What she could hear, however, was her makeshift sleeping area being ransacked. The scrape of metal on stone filled the cave with the same sinister laughter from before. “So you’re trapped here, little one!” The same voice called out, “And now, you have no food. Or water. How long can you survive, hm?” Heavy footsteps drew closer and Kelci halted her breathing, completely. “Better to die by my axe than suffer!” More laughter followed and Kelci had to brace a hand over her mouth to stop from crying out.

After what felt like, and very may have been hours, the footsteps passed by, then retreated back into the cave. Probably trying to lure her out of hiding. It would be hard on her resolve, but she had to stay here, for the time being. Stay still, and stay silent. Finally, just as she thought she might finally be safe, the footsteps returned. “Clever.” The voice cackled, “And so brave, in the face of doubt. But no matter. You can’t hide in the dark forever. You will come out, eventually.” Kelci didn’t move from that spot.

Another long, indeterminate period of time passed. Kelci was thirsty. And hungry. She’d been thirsty and hungry for more hours than she knew, by now. She had no idea how long it had been since she’d hidden here, or even how long she’d been in the cave. Daolong said he would be back in three days, but it was all but impossible to tell how much of that had passed. Whether or not he had come, decided her to be dead, and left her. Her back and hooves were hurting from this cramped space. She’d tried to adjust into a more comfortable position, but it was of no use. Even for someone as small as Kelci, this was a tiny space. “Going to have to face it, eventually.” She murmured to herself, and nodded. She had a plan. Head for the place she’d stayed, try to scrounge up what food she could, get some water down her throat, then make for the exit. Even if it wasn’t yet time, it had to be close. If time had already passed, maybe he’d left the door unlocked. “Move, Kelci.” She told herself, and carefully pushed out of the shelter.

The cave was silent. Kelci sighed. Gripping her staff, she made her way back in the direction of her camp. Her hooves were louder on the stones than she wanted them to be, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. Draenei aren’t quiet on hard floors. She reached the spot without incident. It was slow going, as usual, but something about it seemed easier than before. Just before her staff would connect with something, she sort of knew it was going to happen. To the point that at the spot where she’d slept, she didn’t need to tap her staff against anything. She just kneeled down to examine the scene with her hands. Her heart sank a little.

All the food was crushed. Inedible. It would be near impossible to find any more with the Mogu about, so she’d have to just go without. With the emphasis on haste, she moved to the water, only to discover a foul stench coming from it. Poisoned. “So no water, either.” She whined, slumping against the wall and thumping her horns into it, repeatedly. “Damn it. Come on, Kelci, you’re not dying in here.”

“And that is where you’re wrong, mortal!” The booming voice returned, very nearby. Kelci hadn’t heard anything. Was it just laying in wait? Her only instinct was to jump backward, away from where the voice had come. It was just in time, too, as the sound of something heavy and metal hitting the stones rang out with cacophonous fury. “Ooh, you’re a quick one.”

“My people aren’t mortals,” She retorted, as if that was going to get the Mogu to back off. “We’re ageless. We existed long before you, and we’ll exist long after.” The staff was steady in her hands as she faced the direction from which the voice had come. She was far enough away, now, that she should hear any action. Any move to attack her. The darkness of the cave was of no consequence, to her. There was no escaping the fight, this time. She shifted her stance to a defensive one, ready to react to the first sound she heard.

And hear she did, the brute just calmly strode forward, heavy footfalls thumping against the stone floor. “Not mortals, hm? You can still die.” Kelci heard stone move and the sound of air being pushed past something. That same feeling of instinct thrust her to move, as well. She dodged to one side and struck with her staff. Somehow, it rang true. The hardened bamboo connected with the Mogu’s leg, and it stumbled. Stone scraped across the floor. She was faster than it. Much faster. An opening. She struck again, this time aiming for what she hoped was just below its neck. Once again, her staff rang true, beating into the Mogu hard enough to send it sprawling. Her mind flowed and roared, focused on the feeling of Chi, like she’d been told. But it wasn’t just her mind. She could feel something surging through all of her. Energizing her. She could win this.

The Mogu roared in angry defiance, pushing itself up and spinning back toward her with an arc of its blade. Kelci’s dodge was just barely quick enough, and she now sported a thin slash on one arm, though it was only deep enough to hurt and to bleed a little. The Mogu’s movements were filled with anger. They lacked any control or form, and were easy enough to reason out where he might strike next. Something in her head willed Kelci to try another attack.

Skidding back from the dodge, her hoof caught something on the stone for support and she used it to leap forward, turning with her hips to deliver a sharp kick to the monster’s chest. If there were lungs in it, they would have emptied. Instead, it staggered back, stumbling over itself, and the blade fell from its hand with a loud clang on the floor. Kelci dove for it. It was good she was faster; she got there first. Much to her dismay, the Mogu’s spear was almost too heavy for her to life. Three hundred years ago, this would have been easy. She grunted. All she could manage to do is pull it out of the monster’s reach, but she stumbled in doing so. And her hoof stepped on a panel in the floor that clicked.

Whether it was luck or instinct that saved her, she dove out of the way again, just as a flurry of arrows shot from the ceiling and pounded into the stone where she’d stepped. Not quite fast enough, though. One of the arrows pierced her leg, just above the hoof. Her shrill cry of pain filled the echoing cavern. She tried to put her weight on it, but nearly toppled over, again. This was bad. How was she supposed to keep fighting like this?

The Mogu just laughed at her. “Poor little girl. Finally out of tricks?” It probably didn’t need more than its fists to kill her. She attempted to strike, but her balance was so off, the staff carried no weight behind it, and the Mogu simply knocked it aside, the gripped her about the neck and lifted her off the ground. It must have been full foot or two taller than her. “I told you that you would die here, though you made it much more fun than I thought it would be.” His grip tightened, “Goodbye, little goat.”

This was it. Nearly three thousand years and she was going to die, alone, in a tomb. Her breath was fading and it felt like her skull might crack if it gripped her any harder. This wasn’t the life she had promised. To Anu and to Ki. “No…” She gasped, tugging at the Mogu’s arm with both of her hands.

“No?” it laughed back. “You’re alone, trapped in a Mogu vault. You will die here and your soul will awaken another of my brothers.” A he, then. Kelci hadn’t been able to tell until now.

“No!” She repeated, more firmly, and something burst from her. The energy from earlier, the Chi, it welled up within her and she somehow knew that she could force it out. With the strength of will she had left, a burst of Chi and force came from her hands and into the Mogu’s arms, blasting them apart. The sounds of a million little stones raining on the floor beneath were a sign of her victory. Though she fell on her wounded leg, she didn’t feel any pain.

The beast roared in fury. “You little-- You’re a Monk?!” He sounded incredulous, still staggered from the blast. He fell to his knees.

“No,” Kelci repeated for the last time. She was smiling, even though it was likely too dark to see. “I’m only a pupil.” She put her hands together right by the Mogu’s face. Another burst like the first one came from it, and the monster’s head shattered like a dropped vase. She breathed out, heavily, and whatever that rush of power was, left her. The pain in her leg returned in force, and she fell to the ground. Her tail coiled in pain close about her and she began to fumble around for wherever her staff had gone. Her hand touched cold bamboo. She sighed in relief. “At least you’re intact.” With whatever purpose she could muster, she began to head back toward the direction she believed to be the door.

“Kelci!” Daolong’s voice called out. It seemed like she need not struggle to get there and a flow of overwhelming relief toppled through her pain. “I felt a terrible sense of dread when I opened the door. A feeling of doubt flooded me--” He stopped short when he saw the scene. “Yu’lon’s breath… a Mogu war-captain. And you brought him down, all on your own?” He noticed her injured leg. “...I am sorry. I chose the tomb poorly. I have not scouted this one in many years, and I assumed it still empty. There was a possibility of lesser Mogu, but not something like this.” He crouched down and fussed over her leg.

Kelci was too shaken to protest. “I’m fine,” She lied. Daolong poked the arrow, gently, and she cried out in pain. “...okay maybe I’m not. But I’m alive.” She laughed, knowing that she was safe had pushed out all else. “Has it been three days?”

Daolong laid his hand near the arrow, still run all the way through her leg. “You’re alive. And it has been three, almost to the hour.” If he had noticed anything about how she defeated the Mogu, he didn’t say. “This is going to hurt a lot.” He gave a warning with just enough time for Kelci to brace herself as he pulled the arrow out of her leg in one smooth motion. Though she didn’t cry out, this time, a wincing moan escaped instead. She whimpered. “You’ll be alright,” Daolong reassured, “We will get you outside and I can heal a wound like this,” and without even asking, he lifted her like a child.

“Did I do well enough that you’ll train me?” Kelci asked as she was being carried. The pain had lessened, but only somewhat. She was surely leaving a trail of blue blood behind.

Daolong just laughed, “You accomplished far more than I could have ever expected of you. It would be my absolute honor to be your Master.” He sounded genuine, even in his surprise at what she had done. “No pupil has faced a first challenge so difficult, and most of them have failed or died on the easier ones. You might be something special.”

Kelci relaxed and closed her eyes. “Thank you for your kind words. It would be my honor to train under you, Master Zhao.” She smiled. “Though, first I could really use some food. And water. And a bath.”

A hearty chuckle overtook Daolong. “I could never say no to that!” He grinned and led her outside of the tomb. Her first real training. She probably should have died, but somehow, had come out on top. Only the first challenge of many more to come.

#draecember #draecember2017 #draecember day 17 #draenei #writing #long post #LOOOOOOONG POST #SERIOUSLY WHY DID I KEEP WRITING THIS IS SO LONG #NO WONDER I'M BEHIND #warcraft #pandaria #roleplay #kelci shadeleaf

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From Ariel to Kobe Bryant: Disney legend Glen Keane takes us inside Oscar-nominated 'Dear Basketball'

The animated short Dear Basketball is getting plenty of press for making NBA superstar Kobe Bryant an Oscar nominee. But it’s also the first nomination for Glen Keane, the long-time Disney animator behind characters like Ariel, the Beast, Pocahontas, and Rapunzel. Keane left Disney in 2012 to pursue more personal projects, and Bryant’s pitch for Dear Basketball spoke to him immediately — even though Keane knew nothing about basketball. “Kobe and I found that we had this connection of careers that we were really identified with, and yet we had stepped away from — him with the Lakers and me with Disney,” Keane told Yahoo Entertainment. “There was something a little bit scary with this whole new path that we were taking, and yet thrilling.”

In the five-minute-long film, Bryant (who retired from professional basketball in 2016) reads a very personal love letter to the game, describing how he first became obsessed with basketball and why he needed to walk away after 20 seasons. Under Bryant’s narration, Keane’s illustrations show Bryant at different stages of his life, from boyhood to retirement, using a naturalistic style and subtle touches of purple and gold (the colors of the L.A. Lakers). The moving film, which will compete for the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film on March 4, was Bryant’s brainchild. “He’s an animation geek,” Keane explained. Talking to Yahoo, Keane broke down all the personal touches Kobe brought to Dear Basketball, from his tube-sock-rolling technique to the childhood photos he provided. The artist also revealed the inspirations for his most iconic Disney characters (Ariel, for example, was based on his wife), and revealed whether drawing Kobe Bryant can help a person play like Kobe Bryant. (The answer may surprise you.)

Legendary Disney animator Glen Keane earned his first Oscar nomination for Dear Basketball. (Image: go90)

Yahoo Entertainment: Congratulations on the Oscar nomination! How does this feel compared to, say, Beauty and the Beast getting nominated for Best Picture? Glen Keane: Well, that was Disney. I contributed in having done the Beast, but still I didn’t feel quite as personally involved. With this one, so much my personal drawings are up on the screen. This was such a labor of love for me. It very much was a passion project to be able to draw and animate in a style that I’ve always loved, and the original drawings are up on the screen; they aren’t hidden behind clean-up drawings, which is what we’ve always done at Disney. You don’t have the original animators’ drawings up on the screen, you have finely traced clean-up, and then that’s painted. So there’s something really direct and emotional about the drawings, and there’s something really direct and emotional about the nomination.

Tell me how you came to make an animated short with Kobe Bryant in the first place. Kobe reached out and connected to Karen Dufilho, who was an executive producer at a film we did at Google called Duet, which Kobe had seen, and he was also familiar with my work at Disney. So she set up a meeting between Kobe and myself at our little studio here in West Hollywood. Kobe arrived with his wife and daughters, and my wife was here, and my producer Gennie Rim and my production designer Max Keane. So we all sat down in my little office with my animation desk, just to see, do we get along? Can we connect creatively? Can we connect just as people? And immediately Kobe and I found that we had this connection of careers that we were really identified with, and yet we had stepped away from — him with the Lakers and me with Disney. There was something a little bit scary with this whole new path that we were taking, and yet thrilling. And we both just really connected with the excitement of what lays ahead. It was illustrated in the film: As Kobe walks off the court, through that tunnel, he steps into the light, into something new that’s waiting for him. And that’s what I’ve been feeling ever since I left Disney.

So did Kobe write the “Dear Basketball” letter specifically for this film? He knew that he wanted to do something with animation — that’s been cooking with him for a while. He’s an animation geek. [Laughs] Which was really surprising to find! Even when he was a kid [living in Italy], he learned a lot about basketball through some European animated films that were about sports. So that was kind of a trigger for him to start, and a natural place for him to go when he ended: to write this letter to basketball, imagining it as an animated film. He met with me before he wrote that letter. So he was already thinking, how am I going to communicate a goodbye to the game? But he was visualizing it. I mean, the whole letter is surprisingly well-crafted as a screenplay. It has basically three acts to it, and there’s this climax at the end of the second act where Kobe is there and the crowd is cheering and there’s confetti falling and it feels like it could be the end of it. But then there’s this death, really, as his injuries take over and he has to let go of the game, and the ball drops and rolls and the screen goes black. But then there’s this wonderful resurrection where we find that little six-year-old Kobe has always been with adult Kobe, and we see them playing on the court one last time, and he sinks the ball and Kobe steps off the court and goes into his future.

Watch: The Making of ‘Dear Basketball’:

I remember when I was storyboarding it, I didn’t realize how much was in that letter until I started to draw the different shots. And it was when I got to the end and I realized — oh, Little Kobe is still there, and they both have to be on the court at the same time! I just got chills. And it was at that point I realized, this is not a letter about basketball. This is a letter that’s to all of us, about that 6-year-old version of us that’s still with us as professionals, as adults, and the dreams we had as a child have never left us. It really could be “dear animation,” “dear medicine,” “dear writing,” dear whatever. I just knew that the film was much bigger than basketball.

The moment when Kobe and little Kobe on the court together made me cry. Oh, thank you for saying that. That’s exactly how I felt when I was sketching that out. Because at the beginning these are rough little sketches, oh, I’m going to animate Little Kobe. And then I realized once I got into it — wait a second, drawing Kobe, he’s not going to be some goofy little cartoon character. This has got to be a finely rendered version of Kobe that everybody can recognize. Wow. It’s not like the Beast. I mean, I could draw the Beast, and he could be any beast. I could define the Beast. But with Kobe, it’s gotta be him. And he’s actually got very delicate features to his face. He’s not easy to draw. That was a big challenge for me.

When you were drawing young Kobe, did you ask him for reference photos? I got every photo of Kobe that he had when he was a little kid. There weren’t a lot of them. I used those very carefully, had them on my desk. And there’s different ages that I got — really little Kobe to adolescent Kobe to teenage Kobe — and I was able to use those as my inspiration for him. So that’s kind of how Kobe looked when he was a little kid, a really cute little guy. The posters on the wall were all the real posters that were on Kobe’s wall as a kid. Kobe was constantly texting me the details, images that he really wanted to use. The videocassette player that he’d have on his bed, looking at the Lakers game. The videocassettes that his grandfather would send him. The way the chairs were set up on the court — Kobe sketched out the little pattern of chairs. I mean I’ve still got his horrible little drawing [laughs] of the chairs there. Everything had to be true.

Little Kobe has big dreams in Dear Basketball. (Image: Go90)

How you fold his dad’s tube socks was the first thing. I skipped over that, but my son Max was storyboarding a version of it, and I noticed that he had really focused on how the tube socks were folded. I said, is that really that important? And it was. Kobe was like, “No no, you have to know — here, I gotta get some tube socks.” And he got some. “You gotta film this” — so we filmed it, and we animated it based on that little footage.

Tell me about developing the art style, which is so wonderful — the color palette and the way it’s drawn. Max Keane is our production designer. He’s my son as well. He’s known my drawings his whole life, and he’s got great taste. He’s always been a critic of my animation, ever since he was a little kid. You know, he’d look at something with Aladdin and say, “I don’t know Dad, you’re beginning to repeat yourself. That’s the same gesture.” He was a little 10-year-old kid at that time! But he’s always been incredibly honest and has great taste, so we’ve been working together since I left Disney.

And Max has this personal goal, it seems, of celebrating the expressive line. At one time he said to me, when he was a little boy and he’d just done this drawing, “Dad, do you know that every line you make on the paper, or anybody makes, is a unique creative act never to be repeated again in history?” And I realized, he’s right. Every line you make, if you look at it really close, it’s this explosion of graphite dust across the paper, like a star field. And there’s this energy to that.

So we’ve been sort of celebrating hand-drawn line in the film we did for Google, Duet, and everything that we’ve done since then. Max has this way of lifting the lines off the paper and setting them in dimension so that there’s space. They’re not flat any longer. There’s parts of the drawing that are out of focus because he’s suggesting that they are closer to the audience, and other parts that are really focused and in detail.

Kobe Bryant in animated action in Dear Basketball. (Image: go90)

The challenge of animating this in the Staples Center, where you’ve got thousands of people — how do you do that without drawing everybody in there? Max had a way of putting depth and subtle color, slight purples and golds, throughout the whole film — very, very understated, but that’s the color theme, this gold and purple throughout. Everything is very natural. We’re not trying to sell or push anything with it.

There’s one particular shot I want to ask you about — that turning point where Kobe says, “My body knows it’s time to say goodbye,” and we see his injuries. Max personally put in a good month working on that one moment. It was basically a few drawings of action that were one pose; somebody had snapped a photo of Kobe at that moment, and I was animating it. But Max ended up taking a skeleton drawing that I had done and imposing it as an X-ray in there, so that you had this X-ray and then a muscle pass over top of that. And then we told Kobe, we want to see your injuries light up on your body at that point, like little flashes of light in the places those injuries were taking place. So I asked, can you give us a list of your injuries? Kobe gave us, I don’t know, two pages of injuries. I said, “OK look, we can pick four!”

So the last flash is really on his Achilles tendon. And it’s the most wonderful moment because you see Kobe move into this freeze frame, and in that moment you get to understand the pain that a basketball player like Kobe goes through, and how you push the body to its human limits. The desire can be there to go on, but the body just can’t do it. We were trying to figure out how to do that. We had animated a section where Kobe is in ice after the game, but it wasn’t as dramatic as showing the moment, an X-ray vision of the body struggling to keep up with what that moment was.

Dear Basketball in X-ray vision. (Image: Go90)

You worked on so many unforgettable animated characters during your time at Disney. What inspired those designs? I invested a lot of myself in the characters I designed. Before Little Mermaid, I was doing villains: Ratigan [in The Great Mouse Detective], the bear in The Fox and the Hound. I was doing villains. And I was cast to do Ursula in Little Mermaid. But when I heard Ariel sing, I just really related to this character that believes the impossible is impossible, that this mermaid could fall in love with a human with legs. I was intrigued with this girl’s belief that nothing was going to stop her. And I told the directors, I’ve got to animate that girl. I’ve gotta be Ariel. And they said, “Well, can you draw a pretty girl?” Because I’d been doing these big ugly characters. I said, “Yeah, I can draw a pretty girl — I’ve been drawing my wife for 10 years now!”

So I designed Ariel really based on my wife, who very much looks like Ariel, except no fins. And the big expressive eyes were just a way of really trying desperately to communicate what is going on inside this girl’s soul. The eyes are the window to the soul, and I made ‘em big.

Ariel in The Little Mermaid (Image: Disney)

Beast was much more like me. I had a terrible temper when I was a little kid, would throw things around. And that somebody could look past this beastly exterior and find something to love? That really moved me. So living in the skin of these characters has been what’s natural for me.

Tarzan was very much my son, Max. At the time I was trying to figure out how to animate Tarzan swinging on a vine, but he seemed passive, Tarzan just hanging onto a vine. But my son Max — our family had moved to Paris, he was 14 years old and he refused to accept he was no longer in California. So he skateboarded everywhere in the city and would come home with bloody knees, going down railings. We’d watch these extreme sports videos together, and I started thinking about Tarzan as, instead of swinging on the vine, what if he was like a tree surfer? So his whole movement was based on my son, the way he was moving around on the skateboard.

Rapunzel [in Tangled] was my daughter, Claire. When she was 6 years old I remember she wanted to paint the ceiling in her bedroom. And my wife said, “We’re not going to set a 6-year-old loose with paints in the house.” So when Claire graduated from art school, I hired her to be Rapunzel as an artist: when Rapunzel paints on the walls, we had to have an artist to do that. So I said, “Well hey, Claire, now you get a chance to paint your bedroom.”

How did those experiences at Disney influence your work on Dear Basketball? My approach has always been about what my dad [Bil Keane] taught me, because my dad was a cartoonist. He created the Family Circus comic strip that he based on his own family, and I was one of the kids in there. Dad was always telling me, “Glen, draw what you know.”

And that was the scariest part of Kobe asking me to do this film: I really, truly did not know basketball. I was terrible in basketball. As I told him, “You’ve got the worst basketball player on Earth animating you.” And he said, “Well that’s good, because then everything you’re going to learn is going to be through analyzing and studying me.” And it’s true. I mean, I studied every move that he made. He’s an illusionist on the court. He’s a magician, where he was constantly making the opponents commit to one fake he was doing so he could move to the other side, and faking people out with incredible skill. I was just amazed as I was animating him, to the point where I’d finally learned it so well that I really believed I could do it. I mean, I really believed I could play like Kobe!

So one night at the Lakers Training Center after evening was done, the lights were off, I went out onto the court and I got a basketball, turned on the lights, and said, “I’m going to do a three-pointer from out here.” There’s this jump fade shot that Kobe learned from Michael Jordan that in a lot of ways became a signature shot for Kobe. I knew I could do it. From all the analysis I knew that you’ve got to jump up and kind of fade back, your right hip is slightly forward, your left arm is straight up holding the ball, your right arm is at about a 45-degree angle holding the ball, and then you release on all the way until the tip of your finger lets go of the ball. I remember Kobe saying “Even after the ball has left my index finger, I still feel like I have control over directing the shot.” I mean, I felt all of that. And the ball is flying through the air, and I can’t believe it, I’ve never been able to do this — the ball is heading straight for a three-pointer from way out in the middle of the court!

And then the ball falls about 10 feet short of the basket. But it was going in a straight line. It was gonnna make it! But it was one of those wonderful moments. A little humbling. Like, OK, I’ll stick with my animation. But I think I still had good form.

[Editor’s note: Dear Kobe was produced by Go90, which, like Yahoo, is part of the Verizon-owned company Oath.] 

Read more from Yahoo Entertainment:

‘Coco’ the musical? This deleted scene shows Pixar film’s radical transformation (exclusive)

How to watch all the 2018 Best Picture Oscar nominees, from ‘Get Out’ to ‘The Shape of Water’

Oscars 2018: All the snubs and surprises, from James Franco to Steven Spielberg to Kobe Bryant

#news #oscars 2018 #_revsp:wp_yahoo_entertainment_us_421 #_category:yct:001000031 #kobe bryant #_lmsid:a0Vd000000AE7lXEAT #_category:yct:001000593 #animation #glen keane #_author:Gwynne Watkins #disney #dear basketball #_uuid:8e12880f-df2c-3b3d-8ec0-1c84d5a1f600 #best animated short film

[anigraham]

Random Questions Time: Music Edition

Because I’m taking a break from work, I’m burnt out, I need something mindless to look at.  It’s long.  I stole this from somewhere. Doesn’t matter where.

1. What are your 5 most played songs? My best guess would be (and yes I am picking 6):

Goo Goo Dolls - Big Machine

Goo Goo Dolls - Not Broken

Goo Goo Dolls - Ain’t That Unusual

Kamelot - March of Mephisto

Fall Out Boy - Dance, Dance

Britney Spears - Work Bitch

2. How many albums do you have? According to my music program, 421.  But there is no easy way of checking he accuracy of that so let’s just say a lot.  On top of I have albums that I don’t have digital copies of. 3. Which artist do you have the most songs for? Goo Goo Dolls by far.  All time favorite band who has been around since 1986 and they are still producing music.  Which is also why I am sure they would be in my “most played songs” list. 4. What your first song in alphabetical order? Last? #SELFIE - The Chainsmokers Zombie Nation - Ministry of Sound 5. How many songs do you have with the letter O? Z? K? O - 97 songs. First song is a techno remix of O’Fortuna lol. (Close to what I have.) Z - 5 songs. First song is Zero Gravity by Kerli. K - 46 songs. First song is Kaleidoscope by Tiesto. 6. How many songs do you have? On my computer. . .3,506.  There are probably some duplicates. 7. Spell out your name with songs that you have. A - Affliction - AFI N - Need You Like a Drug - Zeromancer I - Imperial Throne - Jeremy Soule G - Good Day - Angels & Airwaves R - Real World - Matchbox 20 A - Are You In This? - Stroke 9 H - Hate This Place - Goo Goo Dolls A - Avalanche - Walk The Moon M - Maybe Someday - Splender 8. What's your least played song? I honestly have no way of telling that.  Maybe Jackie Greene.  Someone gave me a CD of his and I didn’t care for it. . .yet it is still on my computer because I’m lazy. 9. A song you always skip. Give a Little Bit - Goo Goo Dolls 10. 3 songs you have with a name in the title. Stacy’s Mom - Fountains of Wayne Where is Micah? - Five Iron Frenzy Mary’s in India - Dido 11. What song makes you cry every time? Oh geezus. Stay With You - Goo Goo Dolls 12. What song means so much to you? Ignoring the last answer... Hey Ya - Goo Goo Dolls Let Love In, Stay With You, and Hey Ya by the Goo Goo Dolls are songs I was listening to constantly during a very rough time in my life.  A lot of the lyrics I really related to at the time and so. . .those songs tend to remind me of that time.  They kind of helped me in keeping my sanity. 13. What song gets you pumped the most? Britney Spears - Work Bitch. lol.  There’s a reason why I assume it’s one of my most played songs.   14. 3 songs you have with cities in the name. Amsterdam - Imagine Dragons San Francisco - Vanessa Carlton N.Y.C - Kevin Rudolf 15. What album will you always listen to all the way through? Goo Goo Dolls - Boxes 16. What song do you have on repeat right now? The last song I did that with was Walpurgisnacht - FAUN 17. Make a story with 6 song titles. One day I’ll fly away.  Runaway.  Over the hills and far away.  I have nothing in this world. Goodbye. 18. Do you have a rainy day playlist? What songs are on it? No.  I have a cocktail hour playlist?  I imagine what I have on there is what people would have on a “rainy day playlist”?  It’s a lot of soft/slow world music, jazz, and trance music. 19. Using one song, tell me how your life is going. Alive - Goo Goo Dolls 20. Do you make playlists? Trying to.  I use to just have only two.  “CD” and “Repeat.”  All the music I wanted to listen to at the moment I would throw into repeat.  CD was obviously to make CDs for my car... Currently I have the following: Ah-knee-may, Bollywood Bun, CD, Chorus, Cocktail Hour, College Bun, Dance Party, Elder Scrolls, Emo Bun, Fantasy Bun, Graham Rumarin (shutup), High School Bun, IDEK, Instrumental, Metal Bun, Nostalgia, On The Radio, Pop, Project Runway, Puremood Ish, Remixed Bun, Repeat, Revelations, Rock Alt, Rock Fun, Rock Soft, Sing-A-Long Bun, Sountracks (Intrumental), Sountracks (Lyrical), Steam Powered Giraffe, and Vocaloid. 21. What's your favorite playlists? Currently, Metal Bun.  Has artists like Amaranthe, The Birthday Massacre, Leave’s Eyes, and Within Temptation. 22. Do you have any songs with colors in the title? Blue Comb ‘78 by Five Iron Frenzy comes to mind. 23. Put your phone on shuffle, what song comes up first? Do you know every word to this song? Can’t Say - BBMak LOL.  Wow.  Nope.  Maybe back in 2000 I knew all the words, but I Can’t Say, because honestly this is one of their songs I didn’t care for.  I know the chorus? 24. How many artists do you have? According to my music program. . .740. 25. How many songs do you have? Have another song from pushing “random” for repeating yourself Leaves’ Eyes - Leaves’ Eyes 26. 3 songs you listen to when you're feeling kinda down. It really depends on what is making me feel “kinda down.” Nostalgia got me down: Let it Die - Three Days Grace  Family got me down: Unbreakable - Fireflight  Life got me down: Some Nights - Fun. 27. 3 songs you listen to when you're feeling hopeless. Let Love In - Goo Goo Dolls Stay With You - Goo Goo Dolls Hey Ya - Goo Goo Dolls Basically the songs I answered with in 12.  These songs I tend to imagine the person I wish I was singing them to me.  If I am listening to these on repeat I’m not okay. 28. 3 songs you listen to when you wanna dance. Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon Honey, I’m Good - Andy Grammer I Wanna Go (Smash Mode Remix) - Britney Spears (I have an absurd amount of Britney Spears remixes...lmao.) 29. 3 songs you blast out the car speakers, with the top down in the summer. I would never do that.  BUT IF I WAS to do that it would be totally random stuff to confuse people like: Blue - Eiffel 65 Buttercup (I’m a Super Girl) - Shonen Knife Knight Rider Theme (Techno Remix) - Happy Hardcore 30. A song you're ashamed to have in your library. I am not ashamed to admit that I have things like Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Power Puff Girls, Ke$ha, Sandstorm by Darude, and the like on my computer.  BUT.  The two bands I don’t outright admit to enjoying is Evanescence and Nightwish.  

Symphonic Metal (and other similar branches of metal) is probably one of my favorite genres and I think some of Evanescence’s music can fall into that.  It seems like whenever I go to the internet wanting to find a new metal band to enjoy, there is always some dick who is like “Let me guess.  You like Evanescence/Nightwish.”  Like who gives a fuck.  I like a LOT of things.  Epica, Leaves’ Eyes, Dream Theater, Krypteria. . .but it seems like the moment I admit to enjoying either Evanescence or Nightwish I just get written off.  Which makes no goddamn sense because if my taste is such “shit” tell me something else to try?  Ya know.  The whole reason why I’m there!  /rant 31. Do you have any movie soundtracks? Hell yeah!  300, Stardust, Rent (yes, I have both the movie and Broadway versions), Requiem For a Dream, The Lord of the Rings, Pitch Perfect and Moulin Rouge.  I also have videogame, tv, and other broadway musical sountracks. 32. What's the oldest song you have? I have music by The Beach Boys which is early 60′s.  Surprisingly, I don’t have any classical music on my computer. . .which I do enjoy.   33. Pick a song and tell a story with it. On The Way Down by Ryan Cabrera was the inspiration to my fanfic about Mr. Bushido (Graham Aker) struggling to kill himself.  The lyrics “On the way down. I saw you and you saved me from myself.” is the theme behind it. . .it’s the idea that he was seeing his life flash before his eyes while slowly losing oxygen (and while trying to convince himself that seppuku is his only option.)  Those memories reminded him of the man he use to be and it’s the desire to go back there. . .to go back to the man he use to be. I said it months ago that I would like to do videos where instead of just music over it. . .I talk about a subject.  I plan on making my first one a drawing of a scene from my fic when I discuss what Graham Aker means for me.  I plan on making the speed paint use this song as well. 34. What song reminds you of yourself? There are a lot.  I would just refer back to questions 12 and 27 for the most meaningful ones.  35. A song you have that you have because you heard it on a commercial and liked it. HA!  Well, I don’t actually have the song anymore before, well, I am sure you can guess why but it was... Forever - Chris Brown.  Heard it as part of a Doublemint gum commercial.

#music #survey #about me #questionaire

[flauntpage]

Rough Outing: Six Observations from Celtics 113, Sixers 96

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  I love the Boston accent. I can’t enough of it. Mike Gorman and Tommy Heinsohn are the best thing to come out of Beantown since Ray Donovan and his crazy father, Jon Voight.

This was not an instant classic for obvious reasons. The short-handed Sixers looked outmatched against the short-handed Celtics, who seemingly scored at will for much of the night.

So while it’s fruitless to dive too deep into a game that didn’t feature Joel Embiid, JJ Redick or Robert Covington, we did get to see more from rookie pair Markelle Fultz and Ben Simmons.

Markelle Fultz

He checked into the game around 6:30 of the first quarter and didn’t waste any time driving to the rim for a layup and foul.

I thought Fultz looked much more comfortable with the ball in his hands rather than trying to find his game with Simmons running the point. Both players are excellent at getting to the basket, though Fultz looks to be the slightly smoother finisher. Simmons seems like a better passer, with elite vision to kick the ball back outside.

The issue right now is that I think Simmons and Fultz have slightly overlapping strengths and weaknesses. Both are better with ball-in-hand while driving. Neither one is looking to shoot a jumper, nor are they wow-ing us with off the ball movement right now. This is something the Sixers would like to see from Fultz, however, because part of the reason his draft stock was so high was because he could score without dominating the ball.

It wasn’t until the third quarter that Fultz even attempted a shot outside the key, missing on a 15-foot jumper. In the fourth, he hit a really smooth baseline jumper from about 11 feet.

He also showed some really nice moments with that spin move, which he probably overused at times:

Marcus Smart giving Markelle Fultz a nice little "welcome to the league" moment. http://pic.twitter.com/xaCrTQ57fq

— Taylor C. Snow (@taylorcsnow) October 10, 2017

  Ben Simmons 

Simmons will get to the rim frequently this season. An early storyline might be his finishing in the paint.

He finished 6-12 on the night and added six rebounds.

Take a look at his shooting chart from Monday night, courtesy of ESPN.com:

  You see all six of his made shots coming from that clump of black right underneath the rim. He missed both of his shot attempts from outside the paint.

For comparison, this is what Fultz’s chart looked like:

Fultz was 3-5 in the paint and 1-2 outside of it. Simmons was 6-10 inside and 0-2 outside. Neither player attempted a three-pointer.

There’s overlap there, for sure.

If one of Simmons or Fultz develops a consistent outside shot, that gives you another scoring threat alongside Redick and Covington. Right now, three games into the preseason, it feels like there’s a bit of redundancy. The thing is, Fultz was over a 40% three-point shooter in college, and his decision to tweak his shot over the summer seems to have hurt his confidence to shoot, especially when you consider what we saw in the Summer League, where he looked just fine shooting from outside the paint and in one game hit four three-pointers.

  Free throw shooting

It wasn’t great.

Fultz went 2-5 and Simmons was 3-10. That’s 40% and 30% for the pair.

The entire team shot 51.7% from the stripe.

This video got a lot of play last night, with Fultz sort of shot-putting a brick from an awkward starting point:

Biggest problem with Fultz free throw is that he starts it at shoulder height. Needs to start at waist level for rhythm and POWER http://pic.twitter.com/CExnUgao4r

— BBALLBREAKDOWN (@bballbreakdown) October 9, 2017

I’m not sure what that’s all about. Is the shoulder bothering him? His release point is incredibly high and the ball isn’t even resting in his palm, he’s pushing it with his finger tips.

Simmons’ form looks smoother from the waist up, but he seems to keep his feet angled away from the basket.

This is going to be a pretty big topic moving forward, considering that both of these guys are going to draw fouls while attacking the rim. Fultz and Simmons shot more free throws last night (15) than the rest of their teammates combined (14).

  Regular shooting

Assuming that the dribble-drive and kick out is going to be there all season long, Redick and Covington are going to have to be a HUGE part of the Sixers offense.

The short-handed squad shot 44% from the field last night, but just 28% from three. Furkan Kormaz hit 3-4 from behind the arc and made 5-7 field goals overall.

Speaking of Korkmaz, I like the kid. I keep coming back to the word “assertive” to describe his preseason. He’s really looking for opportunities to shoot, but he’s not chucking it up aimlessly either. There’s a tempered aggression, if that makes sense.

He’s been no worse than Justin Anderson and Nik Stauskas, who combined to go 2-16 last night and 0-6 from three-point range.

Food for thought:

Oh is Furkan Korkmaz not a secret anymore? Are we allowed to talk about how he's definitely their best non-Redick wing?

— TS% Eliot (Spooky) (@Cosmis) October 1, 2017

  More Okafor

Jahlil Okafor got the start with Richaun Holmes missing via injury.

He didn’t exactly bust his butt in this game, but who did? He only just returned from the knee injury, after all, so I don’t expect T.J. McConnell levels of exertion.

To me, the problem with Okafor isn’t his physical movement or fluidity. I do think vegan Jah is a little smoother than omnivore Jah.

The issue is that diet and health have no bearing on mental capacity or court awareness, which he continues to show very little of. Often, he’s slow to recognize an opponent’s offensive movement, or see a second defender coming when he receives the ball down low (and palms it).

Okafor’s offensive game might be anachronistic, but it’s effective. He’s still a defensive liability, however, and until he improves that part of his game, it’s just hard to justify giving him extended minutes.

I’ll hold off on a more definitive take until the end of the preseason.

Abdel Nader with the strong finish through contact! http://pic.twitter.com/VdQTRZgrRE

— Boston Celtics (@celtics) October 10, 2017

  Saric back

Nice to Dario Saric back on the court, even if he looked a bit rusty.

He had a great offensive rebound and put-back around 9:52 in the second quarter. That was one of just five offensive boards for the Sixers. Saric had five points and seven rebounds going into halftime.

He finished with nine and seven on the night, but only hit one of five three-point attempts. It was created from a Simmons drive:

A beautiful thing.

Simmons grabs the board, runs the floor, penetrates and kicks to Dario for an easy triple. http://pic.twitter.com/Bki4lNrVSd

— NBC Sports Philly (@NBCSPhilly) October 10, 2017

He’ll be another guy who can step up and take advantage of that gravity shift when Simmons and Fultz are driving to the rim.

That’s about it all I’ve got for this game, which will will now be wiped off the DVR forever.

  Rough Outing: Six Observations from Celtics 113, Sixers 96 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[gwynnew]

From Ariel to Kobe Bryant: Disney legend Glen Keane takes us inside Oscar-nominated 'Dear Basketball'

The animated short Dear Basketball is getting plenty of press for making NBA superstar Kobe Bryant an Oscar nominee. But it’s also the first nomination for Glen Keane, the long-time Disney animator behind characters like Ariel, the Beast, Pocahontas, and Rapunzel. Keane left Disney in 2012 to pursue more personal projects, and Bryant’s pitch for Dear Basketball spoke to him immediately — even though Keane knew nothing about basketball. “Kobe and I found that we had this connection of careers that we were really identified with, and yet we had stepped away from — him with the Lakers and me with Disney,” Keane told Yahoo Entertainment. “There was something a little bit scary with this whole new path that we were taking, and yet thrilling.”

In the five-minute-long film, Bryant (who retired from professional basketball in 2016) reads a very personal love letter to the game, describing how he first became obsessed with basketball and why he needed to walk away after 20 seasons. Under Bryant’s narration, Keane’s illustrations show Bryant at different stages of his life, from boyhood to retirement, using a naturalistic style and subtle touches of purple and gold (the colors of the L.A. Lakers). The moving film, which will compete for the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film on March 4, was Bryant’s brainchild. “He’s an animation geek,” Keane explained. Talking to Yahoo, Keane broke down all the personal touches Kobe brought to Dear Basketball, from his tube-sock-rolling technique to the childhood photos he provided. The artist also revealed the inspirations for his most iconic Disney characters (Ariel, for example, was based on his wife), and revealed whether drawing Kobe Bryant can help a person play like Kobe Bryant. (The answer may surprise you.)

Legendary Disney animator Glen Keane earned his first Oscar nomination for Dear Basketball. (Image: go90)

Yahoo Entertainment: Congratulations on the Oscar nomination! How does this feel compared to, say, Beauty and the Beast getting nominated for Best Picture? Glen Keane: Well, that was Disney. I contributed in having done the Beast, but still I didn’t feel quite as personally involved. With this one, so much my personal drawings are up on the screen. This was such a labor of love for me. It very much was a passion project to be able to draw and animate in a style that I’ve always loved, and the original drawings are up on the screen; they aren’t hidden behind clean-up drawings, which is what we’ve always done at Disney. You don’t have the original animators’ drawings up on the screen, you have finely traced clean-up, and then that’s painted. So there’s something really direct and emotional about the drawings, and there’s something really direct and emotional about the nomination.

Tell me how you came to make an animated short with Kobe Bryant in the first place. Kobe reached out and connected to Karen Dufilho, who was an executive producer at a film we did at Google called Duet, which Kobe had seen, and he was also familiar with my work at Disney. So she set up a meeting between Kobe and myself at our little studio here in West Hollywood. Kobe arrived with his wife and daughters, and my wife was here, and my producer Gennie Rim and my production designer Max Keane. So we all sat down in my little office with my animation desk, just to see, do we get along? Can we connect creatively? Can we connect just as people? And immediately Kobe and I found that we had this connection of careers that we were really identified with, and yet we had stepped away from — him with the Lakers and me with Disney. There was something a little bit scary with this whole new path that we were taking, and yet thrilling. And we both just really connected with the excitement of what lays ahead. It was illustrated in the film: As Kobe walks off the court, through that tunnel, he steps into the light, into something new that’s waiting for him. And that’s what I’ve been feeling ever since I left Disney.

So did Kobe write the “Dear Basketball” letter specifically for this film? He knew that he wanted to do something with animation — that’s been cooking with him for a while. He’s an animation geek. [Laughs] Which was really surprising to find! Even when he was a kid [living in Italy], he learned a lot about basketball through some European animated films that were about sports. So that was kind of a trigger for him to start, and a natural place for him to go when he ended: to write this letter to basketball, imagining it as an animated film. He met with me before he wrote that letter. So he was already thinking, how am I going to communicate a goodbye to the game? But he was visualizing it. I mean, the whole letter is surprisingly well-crafted as a screenplay. It has basically three acts to it, and there’s this climax at the end of the second act where Kobe is there and the crowd is cheering and there’s confetti falling and it feels like it could be the end of it. But then there’s this death, really, as his injuries take over and he has to let go of the game, and the ball drops and rolls and the screen goes black. But then there’s this wonderful resurrection where we find that little six-year-old Kobe has always been with adult Kobe, and we see them playing on the court one last time, and he sinks the ball and Kobe steps off the court and goes into his future.

Watch: The Making of ‘Dear Basketball’:

I remember when I was storyboarding it, I didn’t realize how much was in that letter until I started to draw the different shots. And it was when I got to the end and I realized — oh, Little Kobe is still there, and they both have to be on the court at the same time! I just got chills. And it was at that point I realized, this is not a letter about basketball. This is a letter that’s to all of us, about that 6-year-old version of us that’s still with us as professionals, as adults, and the dreams we had as a child have never left us. It really could be “dear animation,” “dear medicine,” “dear writing,” dear whatever. I just knew that the film was much bigger than basketball.

The moment when Kobe and little Kobe on the court together made me cry. Oh, thank you for saying that. That’s exactly how I felt when I was sketching that out. Because at the beginning these are rough little sketches, oh, I’m going to animate Little Kobe. And then I realized once I got into it — wait a second, drawing Kobe, he’s not going to be some goofy little cartoon character. This has got to be a finely rendered version of Kobe that everybody can recognize. Wow. It’s not like the Beast. I mean, I could draw the Beast, and he could be any beast. I could define the Beast. But with Kobe, it’s gotta be him. And he’s actually got very delicate features to his face. He’s not easy to draw. That was a big challenge for me.

When you were drawing young Kobe, did you ask him for reference photos? I got every photo of Kobe that he had when he was a little kid. There weren’t a lot of them. I used those very carefully, had them on my desk. And there’s different ages that I got — really little Kobe to adolescent Kobe to teenage Kobe — and I was able to use those as my inspiration for him. So that’s kind of how Kobe looked when he was a little kid, a really cute little guy. The posters on the wall were all the real posters that were on Kobe’s wall as a kid. Kobe was constantly texting me the details, images that he really wanted to use. The videocassette player that he’d have on his bed, looking at the Lakers game. The videocassettes that his grandfather would send him. The way the chairs were set up on the court — Kobe sketched out the little pattern of chairs. I mean I’ve still got his horrible little drawing [laughs] of the chairs there. Everything had to be true.

Little Kobe has big dreams in Dear Basketball. (Image: Go90)

How you fold his dad’s tube socks was the first thing. I skipped over that, but my son Max was storyboarding a version of it, and I noticed that he had really focused on how the tube socks were folded. I said, is that really that important? And it was. Kobe was like, “No no, you have to know — here, I gotta get some tube socks.” And he got some. “You gotta film this” — so we filmed it, and we animated it based on that little footage.

Tell me about developing the art style, which is so wonderful — the color palette and the way it’s drawn. Max Keane is our production designer. He’s my son as well. He’s known my drawings his whole life, and he’s got great taste. He’s always been a critic of my animation, ever since he was a little kid. You know, he’d look at something with Aladdin and say, “I don’t know Dad, you’re beginning to repeat yourself. That’s the same gesture.” He was a little 10-year-old kid at that time! But he’s always been incredibly honest and has great taste, so we’ve been working together since I left Disney.

And Max has this personal goal, it seems, of celebrating the expressive line. At one time he said to me, when he was a little boy and he’d just done this drawing, “Dad, do you know that every line you make on the paper, or anybody makes, is a unique creative act never to be repeated again in history?” And I realized, he’s right. Every line you make, if you look at it really close, it’s this explosion of graphite dust across the paper, like a star field. And there’s this energy to that.

So we’ve been sort of celebrating hand-drawn line in the film we did for Google, Duet, and everything that we’ve done since then. Max has this way of lifting the lines off the paper and setting them in dimension so that there’s space. They’re not flat any longer. There’s parts of the drawing that are out of focus because he’s suggesting that they are closer to the audience, and other parts that are really focused and in detail.

Kobe Bryant in animated action in Dear Basketball. (Image: go90)

The challenge of animating this in the Staples Center, where you’ve got thousands of people — how do you do that without drawing everybody in there? Max had a way of putting depth and subtle color, slight purples and golds, throughout the whole film — very, very understated, but that’s the color theme, this gold and purple throughout. Everything is very natural. We’re not trying to sell or push anything with it.

There’s one particular shot I want to ask you about — that turning point where Kobe says, “My body knows it’s time to say goodbye,” and we see his injuries. Max personally put in a good month working on that one moment. It was basically a few drawings of action that were one pose; somebody had snapped a photo of Kobe at that moment, and I was animating it. But Max ended up taking a skeleton drawing that I had done and imposing it as an X-ray in there, so that you had this X-ray and then a muscle pass over top of that. And then we told Kobe, we want to see your injuries light up on your body at that point, like little flashes of light in the places those injuries were taking place. So I asked, can you give us a list of your injuries? Kobe gave us, I don’t know, two pages of injuries. I said, “OK look, we can pick four!”

So the last flash is really on his Achilles tendon. And it’s the most wonderful moment because you see Kobe move into this freeze frame, and in that moment you get to understand the pain that a basketball player like Kobe goes through, and how you push the body to its human limits. The desire can be there to go on, but the body just can’t do it. We were trying to figure out how to do that. We had animated a section where Kobe is in ice after the game, but it wasn’t as dramatic as showing the moment, an X-ray vision of the body struggling to keep up with what that moment was.

Dear Basketball in X-ray vision. (Image: Go90)

You worked on so many unforgettable animated characters during your time at Disney. What inspired those designs? I invested a lot of myself in the characters I designed. Before Little Mermaid, I was doing villains: Ratigan [in The Great Mouse Detective], the bear in The Fox and the Hound. I was doing villains. And I was cast to do Ursula in Little Mermaid. But when I heard Ariel sing, I just really related to this character that believes the impossible is impossible, that this mermaid could fall in love with a human with legs. I was intrigued with this girl’s belief that nothing was going to stop her. And I told the directors, I’ve got to animate that girl. I’ve gotta be Ariel. And they said, “Well, can you draw a pretty girl?” Because I’d been doing these big ugly characters. I said, “Yeah, I can draw a pretty girl — I’ve been drawing my wife for 10 years now!”

So I designed Ariel really based on my wife, who very much looks like Ariel, except no fins. And the big expressive eyes were just a way of really trying desperately to communicate what is going on inside this girl’s soul. The eyes are the window to the soul, and I made ‘em big.

Ariel in The Little Mermaid (Image: Disney)

Beast was much more like me. I had a terrible temper when I was a little kid, would throw things around. And that somebody could look past this beastly exterior and find something to love? That really moved me. So living in the skin of these characters has been what’s natural for me.

Tarzan was very much my son, Max. At the time I was trying to figure out how to animate Tarzan swinging on a vine, but he seemed passive, Tarzan just hanging onto a vine. But my son Max — our family had moved to Paris, he was 14 years old and he refused to accept he was no longer in California. So he skateboarded everywhere in the city and would come home with bloody knees, going down railings. We’d watch these extreme sports videos together, and I started thinking about Tarzan as, instead of swinging on the vine, what if he was like a tree surfer? So his whole movement was based on my son, the way he was moving around on the skateboard.

Rapunzel [in Tangled] was my daughter, Claire. When she was 6 years old I remember she wanted to paint the ceiling in her bedroom. And my wife said, “We’re not going to set a 6-year-old loose with paints in the house.” So when Claire graduated from art school, I hired her to be Rapunzel as an artist: when Rapunzel paints on the walls, we had to have an artist to do that. So I said, “Well hey, Claire, now you get a chance to paint your bedroom.”

How did those experiences at Disney influence your work on Dear Basketball? My approach has always been about what my dad [Bil Keane] taught me, because my dad was a cartoonist. He created the Family Circus comic strip that he based on his own family, and I was one of the kids in there. Dad was always telling me, “Glen, draw what you know.”

And that was the scariest part of Kobe asking me to do this film: I really, truly did not know basketball. I was terrible in basketball. As I told him, “You’ve got the worst basketball player on Earth animating you.” And he said, “Well that’s good, because then everything you’re going to learn is going to be through analyzing and studying me.” And it’s true. I mean, I studied every move that he made. He’s an illusionist on the court. He’s a magician, where he was constantly making the opponents commit to one fake he was doing so he could move to the other side, and faking people out with incredible skill. I was just amazed as I was animating him, to the point where I’d finally learned it so well that I really believed I could do it. I mean, I really believed I could play like Kobe!

So one night at the Lakers Training Center after evening was done, the lights were off, I went out onto the court and I got a basketball, turned on the lights, and said, “I’m going to do a three-pointer from out here.” There’s this jump fade shot that Kobe learned from Michael Jordan that in a lot of ways became a signature shot for Kobe. I knew I could do it. From all the analysis I knew that you’ve got to jump up and kind of fade back, your right hip is slightly forward, your left arm is straight up holding the ball, your right arm is at about a 45-degree angle holding the ball, and then you release on all the way until the tip of your finger lets go of the ball. I remember Kobe saying “Even after the ball has left my index finger, I still feel like I have control over directing the shot.” I mean, I felt all of that. And the ball is flying through the air, and I can’t believe it, I’ve never been able to do this — the ball is heading straight for a three-pointer from way out in the middle of the court!

And then the ball falls about 10 feet short of the basket. But it was going in a straight line. It was gonnna make it! But it was one of those wonderful moments. A little humbling. Like, OK, I’ll stick with my animation. But I think I still had good form.

[Editor’s note: Dear Kobe was produced by Go90, which, like Yahoo, is part of the Verizon-owned company Oath.] 

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