#could sort of use that as a marker to see where the starter was when I fed it but idk if it’ll stay there securely enough we’ll see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obaby-me · 4 years

Note

Hey, uh feel free to ignore this but, could I have some headcanons on how the brothers react to an MC with really bad depression but it’s hard to spot? Like, they’re a really sweet cinnamon roll and always putting everyone before them and loves talking about anime, books, cats, music, and anything else they like. It’s hard to spot but the more time they spend with them the more the little details show, like how they never finish a meal(pt 1)

Author’s Note: No need to apologize. Really, you just handed me a bunch of starter sentences.

Lucifer

“I’m used to it,” you said with a smile.

There was nothing to smile about.

Lucifer had this whole evening planned out for the two of you. A night out at one of the finest restaurants in the Devildom, a special bottle on reserve for the two of you. He’d been prepared to take you to the skies tonight, to see the meteor shower up close tonight, and have you make wish after wish tonight.

You had been so excited for the shower. You told him of the human custom of wishing upon shooting stars over a month ago and the minute he knew the shower was coming, he made positively sure to clear his schedule for it. And yours as well.

But he’d had to break them. Diavolo had requested his presence on an emergency and he couldn’t say no. You knew that. He knew that.

And when he broke the news, while he knew you’d be understanding, he had expected at least some disappointment, maybe even tears.

He’d been prepared for that.

“The things happen all the time,” you assure him, giving him a smile. “I’ve learned to accept that. Plans are always more likely than not to be cancelled. I’ve learned not to keep such expectations.”

Lucifer felt guilt well up inside him. “My sincere apologies,” he said once again. “I did not realize I had made it such a habit to put you aside like this. I will make it up to you,” he promised.

“Oh, it’s not you,” you told him waving away his concern. “Everyone does it. It’s okay, really!” To emphasize your point, you continued, “One time, for my birthday, we were going to go to this giant indoor waterpark. But mother sort of forgot and took the family car for the day to a friend’s place. We had to cancel.”

And you laughed. You laughed and Lucifer knew that something was deeply wrong. Wrong with the people around you to treat you with such disrespect to put you aside for the most menial and selfish of reasons; and wrong with you to believe it as acceptable.

Lucifer would have to correct that. While in this particular case, because it was an absolute emergency, for the future, he made sure to keep a perfect record: every plan he made, he kept—and always perfectly on time. Nothing but Diavolo emergencies, real emergencies, could deter him. If it meant sleepless nights in preparation, or sending a brother in his stead, he would suffer it. And he made sure each brother kept their promises as well. Punishments became extremely severe should they be late when attending to you or in skipping any plans to you.

You had to know you were worth the time promised to you.

Mammon

“My church always did say I was going to hell,” you chuckled in response to Mammon when he officially, and drunkenly, proclaimed you “one of us!”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, slinging an arm around your neck and giggling drunkenly into you. “What for, troublemaker?”

“For being bi.”

Mammon gave a small snort, and waited for the rest of your list, but apparently, that was the end of your list. Or maybe he missed it. His head was spinning rather terribly. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Mammon laughed loudly in response, his grip on your shoulders pulling you to sway with him as the two of you walked towards the House of Lamentation. “Love ain’t a reason to be sent to hell!” What a ridiculous concept. Love wasn’t a sin, in fact, it was a kind of virtue.

You gave him a smile, smaller than you should for a night like this. Did you not believe him?

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite his drunken state. He figured it’d help if maybe he stopped walking to do so. “We really don’t judge that here,” he said. “Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

“I know,” you said as you tried to get him moving again.

“No, ya don’t. Ya lookin’ all sad. About bein’ bi. Ya ain’t gotta be sad ‘bout that.”

“I’m not sad that I’m bi,” you clarify.

“Ya look sad,” he insisted.

You giggled slightly in return, and he just knew the words in your brain were something emasculating, like ‘cute.’

“On the contrary, I’m happy. I’m happy you don’t mind.”

Mammon laid his head against you. “Course I don’t. They shouldn’t either.”

“Well, they do.”

“Well, I don’t. And I’m here. And they’re not.”

You gave a small laugh as he blearily babbled on about how he intended to protect you from such people, from such things. You needn’t worry about a thing with him around, he assured you.

Leviathan

“I can relate.”

“To... this?” Levi asked with some surprise, eyes averting from the screen to you cuddled into his side.

You gave a small nod, unexpressive as you watched the protagonist, having lost his match against his rival, defeatedly monologue his own existential crises to the audience. Was all their efforts for nothing? What was the point of trying for more when clearly their dreams would never be realized?

Levi was quiet for a time, watching as the hero wallow in himself, waiting for the inevitable turn around, where the hero finds the answers to his question, finds his inspiration and resolve to keep them going.

But it didn’t come, not by the end of the episode.

Offended, Levi began a tirade of criticisms for regarding the episode, his worries not for the hero despite the context—but rather, for you.

For the next week he searches for anime and manga that center around the same themes, making sure the episodes and chapters that would bring the answers and conclusions necessary were available.

You had to read them.

You had to know.

Satan

“I think I was raised by a cult,” you murmured quietly.

Satan peered over his book at you, the air of silence you two had been enjoying while you read side by side broken by the most unexpected sentence.

He had many questions, but the first to make it out of his mouth was, “what?”

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly for having broken his concentration.

“A cult?” Satan continued, curious as to where this was going. “What kind of cult?”

“I was raised to think I was my dad’s property and that to go against my parents was to go against God.” You explained quietly, embarrassed to be speaking about this topic at all. But you had been the one to bring it up, albeit by accident—your mouth converting thoughts to your external voice rather than internal.

“Not an entirely novel concept for the middle ages. Have to say I’m surprised it’s managed to stick around,” Satan responded with a frown, closing his book carefully, a marker set into place to save it.

“Do you believe that to be true?” He asked.

You shook your head. He felt relief wash over him.

“But sometimes I still feel that, sort of, guilt, you know?”

Satan shifted so that he could get his arms around you, laying himself gently against you. “I imagine it would be difficult a feeling to unlearn.”

You said nothing in return, but quietly put some of your weight against him in acceptance of his affection.

“You don’t belong to anyone. You have every right to your own choices, no matter how your parents feel.” Satan murmured reminders into you. You knew these things, but to hear it felt reassuring.

It became a running theme that when asking you out for a date, Satan would ask or simply surprise you with, “something you’ve always wanted to do that you’re parents would absolutely hate.”

Asmodeus

“My dad’s always saying how fat I am,” you explained as you decline Asmo’s offering of his parfait.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Asmo asked with a tilt of his head.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat across from him and give a small noise that he thought you thought were words, but were entirely unintelligible once it hit the air.

“What was that, darling?”

“I said, I just don’t think I should have any.”

“Are you on a diet?”

“I mean, I should be.” You fidgeted in your seat, refusing to look Asmo in the eye. This was supposed to be a happy occasion: a special date he’d planned for the two of you out on the town trying all the most wonderful trendy treats the season had to offer.

“What do you mean you should be?”

“Well, my dad—“

Your dad, again? Why did his opinion matter to you so much? Especially when that opinion was just so wrong?

“Your dad has no right to say anything about your beautiful body, love!” Asmo protested. “If you want to diet, honey, we can go on one together. But don’t you dare say no to this parfait on account of your dad.”

For the rest of the day, and on into the evening, Asmo laid his compliments thick, and showered you with the attention your lovely body deserves.

Beelzebub

“I’m just not that hungry.”

“You said that at lunch too. And at breakfast.”

It wasn’t entirely unusual for you to skip a meal now and again. Sometimes, you just weren’t hungry after spending two hours snacking on gummies and popcorn in Levi’s room while marathoning TSL. Technically not a meal, but at least you had something in your stomach. Sometimes you were just too focused on a task that you’d forget the time all together.

But today you’d had nothing at all while holed away in your room. The few times he’d passed by, you laid curled on your side, scrolling through your phone.

A growl erupted in the room, and it wasn’t Beel’s. Your stomach was calling you out as a liar—outing you to the Avatar of Hunger incarnate.

“You should eat. I’ll pick something up for you.”

“I’m really not up to eating anything today.”

“Are you ill?”

“No,” you responded, turning your face away, as if ashamed to even look at him.

“You need to eat,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

The question of why didn’t need to be asked. He only need to stare at you expectantly until you’d cave under his gaze.

“I don’t feel well,” you grumbled, contradicting yourself.

“Is it a cold? Satan does say you starve a cold and feed a fever.” He paused a moment. “Or was it the other way around?“ Beel asked himself, trying to recall the last time he and had his brothers had gotten sick. It had been centuries ago. (And it had been a disaster of each one getting sick after the other, passing it around.)

“It’s not that kind of sick.” You mumbled softly. “It’s not a body sick. It’s just... a...” You sunk further into the cocoon of your covers looking miserable. An unusual look for you.

“Sad sick?”

Not quite the way you’d put it, but it was apt enough for youYou didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Beel quietly joined you on your bed, wrapping his arms around your comforter wrapped form and tugging you close. He’d feed you later, he’d hug you now.

Belphegor

“My needs don’t matter.”

“They do,” came Belphie’s immediate response—cutting in a way that felt dangerous, frightening: an end to the sentence, to the thought. His eyes were stern and you shivered beneath his gaze, having both been caught off guard by how quick his response had been, and how angry it had been.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered in response, feeling guilty that you had upset him, to have ruined the lovely moment you two had been having.

Arms wrapped around you as Belphie pulled you against him. He shifted from sitting beside you, to wrapping himself around you, trapping you between his legs and his arms. “Don’t say it again. Don’t think it.”

Easier said than done, he knew that. “Belphie, it’s okay—“

“It’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, an automatic response.

“You matter,” Belphie said, his head dropped into your shoulder and neck as he curled tighter around you. “You matter to me. If you need something, you should ask it. I’ll give it to you. I’d give you everything.”

There was quiet as you thought the statement over. “I just don’t want to be a bothe-“

“You’re not.” Belphie pre-emptively answered. “You could never be. Ask me. Ask anything of me. I gave myself to you, didn’t I?”

You thought yourself so little, so unimportant, but to Belphie you were so significant, so important, so beloved—and to have you not recognize that was as disrespectful to yourself as it was to him.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #ouch #my heart #it's gonna be okay anon #i hope these make you feel better

117 notes · View notes

langdxn · 5 years

Text

devotion | fire and reign!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: It’s the first Cooperative meeting and Michael gets familiar with one delegate.

WARNINGS: Domesticated fluff, anxiety, a bit of comedy, severely shameless smut, vaginal sex, vaginal stimulation, Barry Manilow.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k (sorry I got really carried away with this one. I haven’t proofread it yet so apologies in advance!)

Striding into the Cooperative meeting hall with all the arrogance he could muster, Michael wrung his red leather-clad hands together, his gaze lingering on the streams of expressionless masks lining the conference table. Every face was obscured, a last-ditch attempt at anonymity for the first time in their charmed, infamous lives.

Their grasp at obscurity was futile. He’d seen the seating plan ahead of schedule. He knew he was to speak two feet away from Bill Clinton, that some kid called PewDiePie was perched halfway down the table, that Jeff Bezos sent his apologies for his absence mere minutes ago, that Julie Andrews requested a seat at the last minute and paid in cash.

The Antichrist shouldn’t suffer stage fright, but Michael hadn’t often addressed a number of people at once, least of all the most financially powerful mortal figureheads in the world. He meticulously prepared his speech the night before, scrawling the highlights on a scrap of paper he stuffed down his left glove, small enough to look inconspicuous when he retrieved it yet large enough to not lose it on the journey to the conference hall.

As his expensive leather boots clacked to the head of the table, Michael swallowed hard and forced his focus on Ms Mead’s advice - find a spot at the far end of the room to concentrate on and talk to it. He chose the far right corner of the seemingly endless table, an anonymous pair of black gloved hands that rested studiously on the glass table.

“Esteemed members of the Cooperative,” he announced, swinging his hands behind his back to clasp them together. The less they saw how they were shaking in their crimson incarcerations, the better.

“World leaders, tech giants, media moguls, cultural influencers,” he proclaimed, catching his breath, “and Mrs Langdon.”

His gaze hardened on the gloved hands in the far corner. The black-clothed figure leaned forward in its seat, revealing a golden face creating a stark contrast with the sea of masks. Cascading y/h/c curls framed the feminine face, mysteriously sparkling black lipstick and deep eyeliner outlining fierce y/e/c eyes. A revealing black dress draped over her figure, her chest pouring out of its low neckline.

A knowing smirk caught the corner of Michael’s lips as he nodded in recognition. He balled his leathered hands into fists and landed them authoritatively on the table’s edge.

“The rumours you’ve heard are true: my name is Michael Langdon and I am the Antichrist.”

———

“You know you don’t have to wear a mask, honey,” Michael comforted you as he leaned his elbows on the kitchen island, planting his chin on one balled fist. You glanced over your shoulder at him as you carefully flipped an omelette in the pan.

“I know baby, but it’s the first one and I want to make a good impression,” you giggled. “After all, they’re the ones who sold their souls already. Mine’s still up for sale.”

Michael snickered under his breath, standing straight and gliding his way over to you, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing gently, relishing the embrace.

“Is that so?” He breathed into the nape of your neck, dropping a loving kiss where his words ghosted so sensitively that goosebumps haunted your skin. You jerked the pan over to a nearby plate, tipping the omelette out and returning the pan to a cool hob ring.

“But should I wear makeup underneath? What’s the dress code for this sort of thing?” You tugged at the collar of the baggy black shirt draped over your frame — Michael’s from last night, how he adored seeing you shuffling around the kitchen the next morning wearing his discarded shirt after your night between the sheets.

“Darling, you could wear a garbage bag and I’d still be the happiest man alive to introduce you as my new wife,” butterflies flitted between both your stomachs as he called you that word you’d waited so impatiently to hear drip from his tongue.

“I also take it I’m not sitting next to you?” You enquired half-heartedly, knowing any distance between you pained you both no matter how formal the situation. Recalling the times you sat beside each other for dinner at Madelyn’s house, how Michael’s hands charted their course towards your inner thighs before starters even hit the plate.

“So who am I going to be rubbing shoulders with tonight, Boy Wonder?” You ducked into his embrace as his breaths laced your neck with shivers.

“Let me see,” he pondered, as if conjuring the seating plan in his mind. He settled for retrieving a document from the pocket of his velour jacket and pulling it in front of you. Scanning the plan from over your shoulder with a hum under his breath, he nodded towards the red marker pointing to your seat in the farthest corner.

“That’ll be Zach Braff on your left, so no getting any ideas,” he squeezed your hips in jest, “and David Hasselhoff at the head of the table in front of you.”

“Really? You’re trusting me to sit facing The Hoff? Oh honey, your trust is severely misplaced,” you cracked, gripping onto his remaining hand that rested on your hip.

“Oh I’m sorry my darling, would you prefer Barry Manilow on the left?” He tickled you gently, tossing the sheet of paper into the air and watching it cascade to the tiled floor beneath you. “How on earth do you know all these people anyway? They’re all just names to me.”

“That may be because I didn’t age a decade overnight, Mr Langdon,” you joked, “I grew up on pop culture, that’s all. You were born after all these people became popular.”

“I also didn’t run a globally successful Tumblr which single-handedly forced the entire internet to stop talking in peaches and cucumbers—“

“Eggplants, Michael, they’re eggplants,” you giggled heartily into your hand to stifle a full-scale laughing fit. “Did the Antichrist just admit he married me for my influence?”

Michael scoffed, landing a sweet peck of agreement into your neck.

“Speaking of influencers, exactly how much power do you have in choosing new Cooperative delegates?”

“Providing they’ve sold their souls to my father already, it’s an open court. Who do you have in mind, baby?” He cooed into your ear.

“I think it would serve us well to save Benedict Cumberbatch. Hell hath no fury like Cumberbitches when they find out Sherlock was exterminated by the Apocalypse.” You turned to face Michael with eyebrows raised, proffering the omelette plate before him.

“I’ll take your word for it, Mrs Langdon. Anybody else?”

———

Michael had barely got to the crux of his introduction to the Cooperative before disembodied voices grew concerned. Each member wore a voice manipulator built into their identity masks, a second, painfully virtual line of defence that reminded you of Robocop having a domestic. It wasn’t until you could hear their discordant mechanical voices over your husband’s that you focused back into the room.

“What about my wife?”

“What happens if the Outposts are overrun?”

“Will I get to see my kids again?”

“What if the missiles don’t kill everybody?”

“When will it be safe to walk around on the surface again?”

“Will we die down there?”

“What’s your backup plan?”

Michael was nervous, almost obsessively wringing his palms in an effort to disguise the shaking that had consumed him. He was drowning in a blur of desperate, panicked queries firing from all angles — for the first time in your relationship, he looked lost. Powerless. Terrified. Aimless syllables tumbled off his tongue as he tried to regain composure.

He couldn’t lose them. Not yet.

The sudden, ominous clink of your stilettos across the polished floor immediately silenced the cacophony. You strode elegantly and purposefully toward the head of the table, relishing every second of precious silence from the present number as you made your way to your husband’s side.

“What my beloved husband is attempting to articulate is that our repopulation plan is foolproof,” you ran your hand across the top of Michael’s leather coat, resting on his left side and gently leaning on him as if the angel arriving on his shoulder to save the day.

“We’ve eliminated all possibilities of unsatisfactory reproduction for the new world. We’ve limited the number of British survivors in order to reduce the risk of poor dental health — no offence Mr Cumberbatch, wherever you may be seated,” you searched in vain across the faceless entities lining the table in the hope any glimpse of body language could give your chosen one away.

“Your families will be as safe as we can possibly keep them, with the help of your investments and the security you use on a daily basis above the surface.”

Your vision darted pointedly to the far left corner of the table.

"Mr Smith, you and your wife will be situated in Outpost 4 while Jayden and Willow will reside in Outposts 1 and 2 respectively. That way, if any Outposts are compromised, we won’t have an overpopulation of Fresh Princes of Bel Air.”

A collective yet nonetheless strained chuckle filled the air.

“As for your safety against the rabid cannibals that the rest of the human race will no doubt be reduced to, that all depends on how much you’re willing to contribute to the cause. I’ll hand you back into the capable hands of Mr Langdon.”

Michael turned to you with a smile of relief and appreciation, you let loose a casual wink of reassurance before stepping back to return the floor to him.

Michael breathed in sharply and assumed his power stance, crimson leather palms pressed flat on the gleaming table, focus now fixed on the masked figure at the opposite end of the room.

“Turn to page six, section one - Outpost Construction."

———

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you back there,” Michael sighed through both his hands, wearily wiping down his face in an attempt to erase the last few hours from his memory.

You pushed aside Michael’s hastily discarded red gloves and draping leather jacket, some desk lamps and leftover instruction manuals on the table to perch on the edge, drawing Michael between your legs by the waistband of his coat.

“You did just fine without me, my love,” you cupped his face in your hands, his angelic curls tumbling around his countenance as you planted a loving kiss on his full, if slightly bitten lips. He drew you in even closer, his kiss deeper than the azure blue of his eyes he had now clenched firmly shut.

If there was one thing you knew Michael loved more than anything, it was kissing you. When you handed each other washed dishes after dinner, when you waited impatiently in the queue at the grocery store, when you finally found something decent to watch on TV. He adored locking his lips against yours at any possible opportunity, crashing teeth and dancing tongues. He worshipped the power he had over you when you were compelled to close your eyes to kiss him, the freedom he could use to surprise you while you so innocently shut out the rest of the universe.

“How can I ever repay you, Mrs Langdon?” He breathed into your mouth as he towered over you, one hand roaming your hair and the other ghosting on top of your knee.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way, Mr Langdon,” you charmed, kissing him again as deeply as possible. This time Michael refused to separate from you, maintaining the searing connection between your lips.

Hitching your black silk dress up your thighs agonisingly slowly, Michael opened one eye to savour every centimetre of your legs revealing before him with subtle gasps catching on the tip of his tongue against yours. As the hem reached your hips and exposed your core, Michael moaned greedily in your mouth.

“No panties?” he hummed as your teeth clashed, “no wonder you were so fucking sassy earlier.”

Meeting no obstruction, his soft fingertips wasted no time in trailing between your thighs and finding their home pressed gently onto your clit. As soon as his skin made contact, your hips bucked and you felt a stream of your arousal escape your folds.

Michael could smell it before he felt it. His fingers coursed down to collect the precious droplets, raising his digits to your conjoined mouths so you could both taste you.

“You’re so fucking wet for me baby,” he cooed down your throat, his lust-blown voice reduced to a husky croon. You opened your eyes to meet his for a brief moment but your gaze was met not by his cerulean tones, instead his irises were pitch black, seductively demonic and terrifyingly sinister at the same time. Avoiding their scorching stare, you closed your eyes to kiss him again.

Michael’s hand returned between your thighs and deftly slipped a soft finger through your folds, eliciting a gentle moan from the back of your throat. Returning his fingertip to your entrance, another digit joined it and coursed inside you, curling against your walls to make your hips follow their lead.

Michael grunted into your mouth as he retrieved his fingers, jealous of the warm arousal his fingers witnessed. Tracing his tongue across your teeth, you whimpered at the loss of his touch but replaced by the rustle of Michael setting himself free from his dress pants. You trailed a hand down his chest, making light work of his shirt buttons. Before you could reach his waistband, you felt the head of his cock tracing the outline of your folds, begging for permission to enter.

“Is this okay?” He asked politely as your teeth crashed together. His reconnection with the new Ms Mead skilfully reminded him of the basic courtesies he lost sight of on his sojourn, a time he never seemed comfortable to talk about with you. A time he would rather forget.

You hummed in agreement against his lips and hooked your legs around his waist, gently nudging him closer as his cock stretched your entrance. Slowly, carefully, respectfully.

Your moans drew out longer as he took his time pouring every inch of him inside you. He craved your response when he entered you, he thrived on the ecstasy your husband gave you.

Bottoming out in one smooth thrust, his hands shot up to the back of your neck to prize you from his lips. As you opened your eyes, you met his black pupils as they shot you a determined, ecstatic glare.

“Sell your soul to my father, please. We can live forever, together,” his syllables dragged as he thrust slowly into you.

You needed no persuasion, your mind was made up on the day you married the Antichrist, the only delay was the plans for the apocalypse had taken over. However, you weren’t prepared to let him think he won you over that easily, especially while his cock was urging at the entrance of your cervix.

“What is it with you and deep conversations while you’re balls deep inside me?” You quirked an eyebrow and he forced an aggressive thrust in response. Your back arched suddenly and your eyes retreated into the back of your head, the fast motion driving you closer to your orgasm than you expected so soon.

Protectively wrapping your arms around him and lightly digging your nails into his back, you pretended to need more time to think on his proposition but another sharp snap of his hips broke your facade.

“You realise I won’t let you cum until you agree, don’t you, my darling?” He raised his hand to your throat with a gentle yet purposeful squeeze on your airways while slowly pulling his cock back out of you until just the tip rested in your entrance. He knew from extensive experience that you couldn’t say no when he teased you like this.

“Fuck—ugh fuck, okay I will, now please Michael,” you pleaded weakly, trying to pull him back inside you but he placed a forceful palm on your chest in resistance.

“Say the words honey, say the words.” His black hole stare burned through your eyes into your soul as you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Michael Langdon, I will sell my soul to Satan,” you breathed emphatically, digging your nails into his back harder.

Your eyes trailed down between your legs to make sure he kept his end of the deal. Sure enough, he poured every inch back inside your folds, meeting your wetness inside with a greedy moan escaping his lips. Gone was his sensual tempo, overtaken by a furious thrust that made his cock twitch as it explored inside you.

“Good girl,” he cooed into your open mouth while you caved into the burning inside you as he pounded you, the familiar dynamite that only Michael knew how to ignite.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your back gave way and dropped you flat on your spine against the polished table, writhing and squirming as your release took hold of you. All your involuntary friction led Michael to pursue his own orgasm as his frenetic thrusts plowed into you, his tip crashing against your cervix with every motion.

Between both of your frantic moans and laboured breaths, a throat cleared uncomfortably behind you.

Michael froze to the spot while you jerked back and strained to see through the stars dancing across your vision.

“Mr Manilow? You’re still in here?”

#michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagines #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #unfff #cody fern

215 notes · View notes

sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Five - Where’s the Fun in Doin’ What You’re Told?

After his comment when she was leaving the hotel, she had expected Matty to be in pretty regular contact with cheesy one-liners and attempts to win her over. But how much they spoke to each other actually seemed to mysteriously lessen. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the other part of her assumed that he was probably just busy finishing off the tour that he was on. Eventually, she had the feeling that she might have worked out why he was suddenly less chatty. It was heard through the grapevine that perhaps a certain band with a certain curly haired frontman were travelling back in her general direction. There were rumours that they might be booked as a last-minute additional headliner for a nation-wide festival to try and move their ticket sales. The day before the news was officially announced, Matty texted her a picture of the line-up for the festival with ‘The 1975’ haphazardly scrawled across the top of it by him.

11:16am You should work this. The line-up looks good.

11:19am I’m not sure, looks pretty meh if you ask me. That headliner is a bit overrated.

11:20am :O

She laughed lightly as his message before just telling him the truth. It surprised her that he hadn’t already heard this news from his bandmates, because it had come up the weekend prior at the party under the conversation starter of ‘things Matty doesn’t know yet’.

11:20am I’m already working it. Got asked to a little while ago.

Her phone started ringing the second after that message had been received.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as soon as she answered the call.

“I figured you’d find out soon enough.” She answered with a shrug he couldn’t see. “You only just got home, didn’t you? When do you fly out again?” She asked.

“In two days. I won’t be at your stop on the festival tour for a little under two weeks, though.” He explained. From the background noises she could hear, it sounded like he was at a restaurant or café or something. She absent-mindedly wondered who he was out with. “You reckon you can wait that long?” He added.

“I think I’ll survive, Matty.” She replied with a laugh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend.” He continued, the teasing tone instantly finding its way into his voice.

“Oh, good to know. In which case I will definitely die a slow and painful death by next Wednesday if you don’t get here before then.” She shot back seriously.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he began chuckling, “Well, you have to wait until next Sunday before we can hang out. Don’t die before then.” He said.

“You know that it’s proper work, yeah? I can’t just sit around with you all day.” She asked, knowing full well that festival merch was very different to headline concert merch.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

* * *

“This is boring.” Matty groaned from his spot on the floor of the merch tent where he was fiddling with her permanent marker. He’d come down to merch as soon as the band arrived on site, and had been sitting in the merch tent for nearly an hour now. She had tried her best to warn him about the difference between counting in and displaying merch for one headliner and support act compared to a festival line-up with 20 bands that all had a minimum of two shirt designs each, but he hadn’t listened. The workload was especially bad considering her brother wasn’t here, he wasn’t meant to be getting in on his flight from the previous stop on the festival track to help her until well after doors had opened. But Matty insisted on coming down anyway despite this.

“That sounds like a you problem.” She laughed as she continued counting shirts from what felt like the millionth box that she had opened. His company was nice, but it was also fairly distracting. “You could help me, you know.” She added.

“I am helping. I am providing essential company.” He answered as he reached over and pulled a slip of cardboard off the ground.

“How did you manage to swing coming back here for a national tour so soon after you just left, anyway?” She asked. It had surprised her to hear that he had been able to organise an international tour to the same country twice within as many months. It didn’t seem very viable to the band to be back in the same spot so quickly.

“We had downtime once we finished up the tour that we were on.” He shrugged. “I just suggested that we find something else to do and saw this. Put it to Jamie that we offer to be a last-minute addition to the set and he sorted it.”

“Isn’t downtime meant to be for actually having a break from this stuff?” She asked as she moved onto the next box.

“Downtime is boring.” He huffed.

“Burning the candle at both ends a bit there, Matty.”

“Death is inevitable, and I’d rather die busy than die bored.” He deadpanned. She glanced over at him, expecting him to be having some deep philosophical moment over this information. But there he was, sitting on the floor of her merch tent, scrawling a drawing of a dog on a piece of cardboard in permanent marker. “Look, it’s Allen.” He said with a grin as he held up the drawing.

As much as he felt like boredom was about to overtake him, Matty was adamant on hanging out in the merch tent for as long as he could. She had actively set him a challenge by telling him that she’d never say that she was into him. He already knew full well that at least a part of her was, even if only for superficial reasons, because she wouldn’t react to him in the ways that she did if she wasn’t. It was potentially a bit arrogant of him, but he had pretty good reason to believe that he was fairly proficient on picking up other people’s signals and being charming. So, her comment was just a red flag to a bull; to say that she’d never tell him something like that. He had been thinking on the best way to go about it, and certainly step one was to maximise the amount of time that they were actually in each other’s space. Being able to come out for the festival was something in the interim until he could come up with a more concrete idea, but he wasn’t about to waste any time that he had available. Step two was that he had to work out the right buttons to press to get her to admit that she fancied him. There was a fine line between being a sleaze and being charmingly flirtatious. He liked to think that he walked that line pretty well. But nonetheless he had to be careful that he was pressing the right buttons, and not crossing that line by pressing the wrong ones. That was going to be a meticulous process of trial and error. He watched her with mild curiosity as she worked around the tent, trying to think of half decent ways to get her attention.

“Give us your phone.” He said after a few minutes of silence.

“Why?” She asked without looking up from the numbers she was entering into her spreadsheet.

“So that I can play some tunes.” He answered.

“Just play music off your own phone?” She frowned as she glanced down at him.

“International roaming is expensive and I know that you have stuff downloaded. Please?” He asked with a sappy smile. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her phone out of her pocket and handing it to him. As soon as he opened her phone, he saw that it was still sitting on their text chain and then noticed that his number was still… just that, his number. Not his name. Not a dorky nickname. Not anything. “Hey! Why haven’t you saved my number? It’s been nearly two months since I gave you that!”

“Why are you snooping through my phone?” She asked with a slight laugh. “I know who you are, I don’t have to save it. Maybe I’m trying to value your privacy in case certain people in my life decide to search through my phone when they’re meant to be playing music.” That second part about valuing his privacy was an afterthought to cover her own laziness for not having saved his contact, but it sounded good.

“Not my fault that you had it open on our conversation history.” He mumbled under his breath, shrugging as he quickly saved his contact as a kissing emoji.

A little while passed in silence, and she was beginning to get worried that he actually was going through her phone looking for something. There wasn’t anything too incriminating on there, but if he went into the right conversations on the right apps he might find some comments she had made about him that she’d rather he didn’t know. “Are you gonna play something, or what?” She asked after about ten minutes of him scrolling, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

“In a minute, I’m just making a playlist.” He answered. Shortly after that, the beginning of Feeling This by Blink 182 filled the tent. She nodded her head in approval at his choice, having not heard the song in a while. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed that she was beginning to notice a common theme in his playlist. XO, Situations, Lying Is the Most Fun, Shake It… these were all songs blatantly about sex. Sure as anything, as soon as she realised what he was doing, Sex by The 1975 started playing. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I am beginning to sense some underlying messages here.” She chuckled, leaning against the counter to face him.

“Hm?” He questioned, looking up at her in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb, Matty.” She said as she shook her head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What underlying messages?” He asked innocently. As soon as she went to call him out on it, the doubt in the back of her mind set in that maybe it was just a coincidence. There were about 4,000 songs on her phone, it was possible, albeit unlikely, that maybe it was just chance. Was she just pulling a pattern together herself? Unless he just wanted her to think that it was all in her head? That sounded like something he’d do. The longer she took to answer, the worse the smirk on his face got.

Thankfully before she had to dive headfirst into that conversation, there was a noise from the other side of the tent. “You both still alive in there?” A familiar voice called as George poked his head in through the door.

“George! Hey!” She grinned as he stepped inside over Matty’s legs and pulled her in for a hug. “Good to see you.” She added as she hugged him back tightly.

“Hi, love! Hope he hasn’t been too painful?” He asked as he gestured down to their friend on the floor. She looked behind George at Matty, only to see him smiling up at her unassumingly. The music had also mysteriously stopped.

“He’s been… interesting.” She laughed. He just gave an over exaggerated wink in response.

“Well, I am here to take him off your hands.” He said as he offered a hand out to the frontman. “Doors are in thirty, Matt. Come on.” Matty grabbed his hand, standing up with a sigh. The two of them headed out of the tent, and she was glad that she might finally be able to get the last of her work done.

“Oh, wait!” She heard Matty shout as he suddenly came barrelling back into the merch tent, a wristband in hand. “Here, you need one of these.” He said as he took her left wrist in his hand and secured the all access wristband. He intentionally let his movements linger, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She just looked at him sceptically as he pulled his hands away, trying to work out what the hell he was doing. If he could work out her weak spots, he could easily use them to his advantage. He would just have to keep testing the waters until he hit the mark. “See you later!” He shouted as he ran out to catch up with George.

“What are you doing?” The drummer asked him with a tired look.

“Nothin’.” He shrugged, smiling to himself.

The half an hour until doors opened flew by in no time at all, and soon the torrent of concert goers started to flow in through the gates. Management running the festival had told her that it was sold out, and festivals were generally a much higher capacity than a regular concert, so it was anticipated to be a pretty busy day. Especially when she was working by herself for the first half of it. She hadn’t quite been able to finish all of the set up by the time that she had to start serving customers, probably in thanks to Matty, which meant that the first hour of selling shirts was also coupled with folding the remaining shirts. But time goes quickly when you’re busy, so it was not long at all before her brother suddenly appeared in the tent, and then by their powers combined the sales were through the roof. The merch tent ran like a well-oiled machine when the two of them worked together, and the more they sold the more efficient it got. It wasn’t until her phone buzzed in her pocket that she snapped out of Sales ModeTM and came back to reality. It had been nearly six hours of solid selling, and she was starting to feel the effects of standing up for so long. She was probably due for a break soon. Which, apparently Matty shared the same sentiment. Or, at least that’s who she assumed the new contact that was listed as just a winking kiss emoji was. She had to chuckle a little at his choice of contact name.

3:46pm Come hang out.

3:52pm Can’t. Have to work.

She shot back as another person stepped up to the counter. She would have to wait until it got a bit quieter before she got her chance to go grab some food.

3:53pm Just get someone else to cover.

3:59pm There isn’t anyone else to cover. I’m here to work, I can’t just dick around with you all day.

The sales continued, the sun started dipping a bit lower in the sky, the bands on stage came and went. By this point in the day the festival was in full swing, and it was slowly but surely dying down at the merch tent. The people that were lining up now were the ones who took a million years to decide, then had to message their friend to check if they should get that shirt or the other shirt, and then in the end said ‘I’ll be back later’ only to never return. As she was waiting patiently for any of them to step up and actually buy something, she heard her name being called from the back of the merch tent. She turned to see her brother on the phone to someone.

“Can you go grab a few boxes for me?” He asked with a pleading look, covering the receiver with his other hand. “Apparently there’s some back behind catering that are a part of a giveaway or something. I’ll hold down the fort here if you can go get them.” He added, before gesturing out to the few people still trying to make up their minds outside.

“Yeah, no problem.” She nodded with a smile before ducking out of the tent.

It took a few minutes and chatting to a couple of security guards to work out where exactly catering was, but eventually she found it tucked behind a few of the food vans. As she circled the pop-up tent, she realised that she wasn’t entirely sure what sort of boxes she was looking for. Were they small boxes or big boxes? Should she have brought a trolley? Were they many huge boxes full of heavy hoodies or a couple of small boxes with posters in them? Shit. Who would she get to help bring them back if she couldn’t carry them all? Maybe she’d just have to make a few trips? Suddenly, all of her questions were answered. She rolled her eyes as she saw the curly haired boy sitting on the two boxes that she assumed she was meant to grab, joint in hand and staring idly around the venue. “I really should’ve known that you’d be here.” She chuckled as she walked over to Matty. He glanced up at her in curiosity, then looked down at the boxes he was sitting on.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are these your boxes?” He asked innocently as he stood up off of them.

“They do say ‘for merch’ on the side.” She pointed out.

“That could mean anything.” He shrugged as she picked one of them up. It was oddly light.

“Are these empty?” She asked as she picked the other up as well. As she flipped open the lid, her suspicions were confirmed. “Did you put these two boxes together?” She narrowed her eyes at him in accusation.

“How strange…” Matty hummed quietly, opting to ignore the question. “While you’re here, d’you fancy a quick drink?” He added casually.

Of course. Of course he had managed to get her out of the merch tent and here to hang out with him. She pulled her phone out with a sigh, quickly verifying what the time was. It was just past five. She had started work at nine that morning. It was probably as good a time as any to take a break. Once it began getting dark there was going to be the usual small rush of people realising that they hadn’t brought enough layers and needed to purchase more, so it only made sense to take a break now rather than later. It was just purely coincidental that she was going to take it with Matty. She flicked her brother a quick text to let him know that she was going to take her break while she was out, and also that the boxes were not for them, before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Only if we get food too.” She agreed, laughing a little as she watched the satisfied grin split across his face. “You sort drinks, I’ll sort food.” She added. He gave a sharp nod before looking around for somewhere he could actually get a drink from. A large part of him had expected her to say no and to just go back to work, so he hadn’t really expected to get this far. While he jogged off in search of alcohol, she made her way to the first food van she saw and placed an order; pickiness wasn’t really an option when you were hungry with limited time. And given how many people were already here at the show it was likely that all the food vans would have a decent wait time before she actually got anything to eat. As she waited for the food to be ready, she took a quick look around the festival to see if she could spot where Matty had run off to. He was at a bar across the way, chatting to the female bartender who was running the till. There was clearly a lot of flirting going on. Lots of arm touching and laughing and Matty was just leaning right over that counter to be in her personal space. It had become pretty apparent in the time that she had known him that he was just a generally flirty and charismatic guy. She had seen it a little bit at the shows, but it had been very obvious at the party the other week. Which was fine. That was just him. She could accept that. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch him be like that with other people. Not that she was jealous, being jealous would mean that she specifically wanted that attention directed towards her, which she totally didn’t, it was just- The call for her order thankfully snapped her out of her thoughts before they went down that rabbit hole of justification.

As she turned around with the food, she saw that Matty was walking back with a triumphant look on his face and two bottles in his hands.

“Free drinks!” He cheered as he handed her one of the ciders and kept on walking right past her.

“Where are you going?” She asked with a frown.

“Dressing room.” He shouted back over his shoulder. “It’ll be quieter there and I’ve got some stuff to do.” He explained, cracking open his bottle and taking a swig from it.

“Oh, so you can work, but I can’t?” She laughed as she began following him, trying to balance the food in one hand with her drink in the other.

“You only work because of me.” He answered with a smug look.

“Other bands exist besides yours. You know that, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but they aren’t as good. My band is the best out there. So, we pretty much have a monopoly on the gig industry. We own you.” What might have started as a serious sentiment on his part quickly devolved into a joke, and as much as he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t help but laugh when she scoffed at what he had said.

“You wish you had a monopoly on merch. I don’t think I’d ever get anything done if you were my boss.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. That didn’t sound like such a bad thing… Her words had given him an idea. But he’d have to fire off a few texts tomorrow to see if it had any possibility of working.

They finally reached the backstage area after a couple of wrong turns around all of the tents that looked exactly the same. That was the downside of outdoor festivals, everything was a temporary setup hired from the same company. So, everything was exactly the same style of tent. The two of them sat down, eating their food in silence for a little bit before Matty decided he had better start to get ready for their set. “Which do you prefer,” He said as he held up two separate outfits. “go all out with the suit, or stick to basics with the shirt and ripped jeans?” He was hoping that this question might give him a bit of insight into which look she preferred on him, but the blank look and noncommittal shrug weren’t exactly helpful.

“It’s your show.” She answered before taking another bite of her food truck dinner.

“Yeah, but…” He started, before deciding that explaining himself was going to take too long and probably detract from his aura of confidence. “Never mind.” He said with a sigh, deciding to just stick with the shirt and jeans for the sake of comfort and consistent image.

After quickly changing he came back into the green room to sort out his hair. He had been feeling like he was probably overdue for a haircut. It was at that awkward length where it was not short enough to stay out of his eyes and not long enough to properly sort it out. Gelling it back seemed like the best option for the meantime. As he was messing about with his hair, he caught her staring at him through the mirror. He combed the gel through his hair and looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. “What?” He asked after a moment.

“Why are you gelling it back?” She asked with a frown.

“I just get annoyed by how it gets in my way sometimes.” He answered, shrugging slightly.

“Hmph. Fair enough.” She did not seem happy about this information. He found that far too amusing.

“You prefer the bed head look?” He asked with a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. He could work with that information.

“It’s just-”

“No, no, I get it. It’s very close in similarity to the post-sex look so I can see the appeal.” The smirk had spread into a grin at this point as he watched her cheeks redden.

She just shook her head at him, “Why are you like this...”

“Matt, did you end up sorting-” Ross began saying as he waltzed into the room, before looking up from his phone and spotting Y/N/N sitting in there as well. “Oh, hello!” He said with a smile. “What’re you doin’ here?” He asked as he sat next to her on the couch and stole one of her chips.

“Got dragged here by him.” She answered, gesturing towards Matty who was still messing with his hair in the mirror.

He nodded in understanding. “How’s merch going?” He questioned.

“It’s going good! I think we’ve already hit the expected sales total per head, so it’s only up from here.” She said eagerly, proud to finally get to tell someone that they were doing really well today.

“Well, I hope it’s not taking too much of your energy, the boys and I were sort of hoping you’d come out for a drink with us after.” He offered as he nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Which boys were thinking that?” Matty asked instantly as he spun around from the mirror.

“Obviously the ones that aren’t you.” Ross stated. “You wanna come out for a few?” He asked again.

“Yeah! I’d love to.” She beamed. The band had been excellent company the last time that she had the pleasure of hanging out with them and she was keen for the chance to get to know them better. “I’ll be finishing later than you guys, though. Probably a couple of hours later as long as that’s okay?” She questioned hesitantly.

“It shouldn-”

“Of course, it’s fine!” Matty interrupted. The two of them glanced over at him, before continuing to chat between themselves.

Eventually, the other two members of The 1975 found their way to the green room, and it wasn’t long after that before she had to regrettably head back to work. As much as they were fun to be around, she had a job to do. They all agreed to head to a nearby bar after the show and that she would meet them there once she’d finished up her shift. She stood up from her spot on their couch, already halfway out of the room before Matty called her name.

“I’ll walk you back to the merch tent?” He offered, not really waiting for a response before getting up out of his seat and walking out with her. “Are you gonna come watch the show?” He asked offhandedly as he lit up a cigarette.

“I can see the stage from merch pretty well, so I’ll probably just stay there.” She shrugged.

“You’re not gonna come up to watch?” He questioned with a ridiculous pout on his face.

“Why? So that you can wink at me any time there’s a mildly suggestive lyric?” She shot back with a laugh. He’d been overly flirty all day today, which was saying something since the usual amount was already pretty high.

“I’m only trying to look out for you, love. I just want to make sure that you can have the best possible view when I take my shirt off during the set.” He said casually. She looked over at him, expecting a wink or suggestive expression or something, but he was just acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

The rest of the festival went by very quickly. There were a few more customers to serve, then it wasn’t long until The 1975 went on. She couldn’t tell from where she was at merch if Matty had been telling the truth or not, but it was probably better that she wasn’t able to confirm that information. Once their set was finished it seemed that people just wanted to head out of the venue and go home. It was a nice relief to not have an after show rush, it meant that they could begin packing up earlier than expected. By the time that she finally got to the bar that they agreed to meet at, it was just after midnight. She had rushed through a couple of aspects of count out, opting to do the rest tomorrow morning so that she had more time with her friends tonight. The band were incredibly easy to spot as she walked in, namely because Matty was currently in the midst of trying to wrestle a phone away from Adam.

“Just give me the phone, Hann!” He shouted, practically climbing over the table to try and get to it.

“Only when you agree to turn the damn thing off.” He argued as he scooted back in his chair to avoid his prying hands.

“Calm down you two.” She laughed as she walked up to their table. Matty instantly stopped what he was doing, looking up at her in surprise before abruptly sitting back into his seat. As he did, Adam threw the phone over to him without saying another word. She felt like she had interrupted something.

“Good to see you. Take a seat.” George smiled, gesturing to the empty space in the booth next to him. “How was work?” He asked in an attempt to break the tension that had apparently settled around the table.

“We did really well.” She answered with a grin. “How was the show?” She asked back.

“It was also really good!” Ross chimed in as he took a sip from his beer.

“The crowd were rowdy as hell.” George agreed with a nod, before giving Matty a knowing look. His face lit up as he remembered something that had happened during their gig.

“I have the best story for you about what happened when we played Give Yourself a Try-” He began, leaning over the table eagerly as he launched into it.

The conversation flowed easily once George had worked his magic and moved everyone away from Matty’s awkwardness. Adam had taken his phone away from him when he wouldn’t stop checking it for the last hour, waiting for messages about when she was going to get to the bar. Apparently Matty had been unable to recover from the pure shock of seeing the person that he was waiting for magically appear at the table. Normally he was pretty good socially, but once he’d had a few drinks and was staring at things through rose coloured glasses, he could be a right mess. George had a feeling that Matty wasn’t going to own up to that, though. So, for his best friend’s sake, he could get everyone to forget that it had happened. The time passed quickly with the five of them having fun, and it was not long at all before glasses were running empty.

“I think I need another drink.” Matty said, motioning that he wanted to make his way out of the booth.

“Don’t stress! I’ll go get us another round.” Y/N/N offered quickly as she stood up, not wanting to bear witness to another round of her favourite game: Watching Matty Flirt with Bartenders.

As she waited at the counter, the reason that she had gotten up ended up following her anyway. He leaned on the bar, fiddling with the coasters sitting on it. “Come here often?” He asked nonchalantly. She didn’t respond at first, unsure if he was joking or legitimately asking. “Name’s Matty. I’ll buy you a drink?” He offered as he held his hand out for a handshake.

“You’re such a twat.” She laughed, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned in response, making a mental note that she had probably reacted best to his dorky jokes out of everything else that he had attempted today.

“I came up to help you carry the drinks.” He explained as the bartender brought them over. They scooted back into the booth, handing the drinks out and diving back into the conversation.

It was hard not to notice during their discussions that Matty was pretty good at being the loudest opinion at the table and was also very proficient at talking over his friends. It was especially apparent when he was enthusiastic about a topic. She could see that after two decades of being together, the other three men were just used to it at this point in their lives. George especially seemed to receive the majority of it. As the boys chatted about heading back home tomorrow, she noticed Matty’s arm making its way across the back of the booth behind her. She gave him a sceptical look as he did it, but he didn’t look away from his friend’s conversation. A part of her wondered if maybe he had jumped up to help her at the bar so that they’d have to be sitting next to each other when they came back…

Eventually after a few moments he spoke up. “Admit it.” He said in a low voice as he leant in closer to her.

“Admit what?” She asked in confusion, frowning up at him.

“That you’re into me.” He elaborated as he turned to her with a smirk. Ah. She understood why he had been acting different all day now. He was trying to con her into confessing feelings for him. Not that there was anything to confess.

“What? No.” She laughed.

“But you are.” He argued with a cocky expression, sounding far too sure of himself for comfort.

“Am not.” She maintained.

“Cut it out, kids.” George said to them without looking away from Ross. Matty wasn’t about to argue with George after he bailed him out earlier, but he wasn’t done pushing the point either. He’d need to find more time to talk to her. However, he knew that wasn’t likely to happen tonight.

By nearly two in the morning, they collectively decided that they should begin winding up their night. She had started work at nine that morning and the fifteen-hour work day was quickly catching up with her. And the band had a flight to catch the next day. The five of them stood outside the bar, watching as the last few stragglers made their way home. George, Ross and Adam all said their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and saying that they were looking forward to seeing her again at some point. They took a few polite steps away, giving Matty the chance to say bye without them hanging around to give him shit for it.

“You’re welcome to come back to the hotel.” Matty suggested with an eyebrow raised. She let out a sigh, ready to decline the offer but he continued. “For real, though, funny business aside. The hotel is closer to here than your place.” He said, his tone instantly switching from joking to serious.

“It’s okay, I’d rather get a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” She replied. “I have to finish up a few things with the stock tomorrow back at the warehouse, anyway. Thank you, though.” She added with a smile.

“It’s all right.” He nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “Was good seeing you, as always. Get home safe.” He said as he pulled her in for a tight hug. He still had that familiar smell of stage sweat clinging to him around his usual combination of weed and charity shop clothes. As soon as he moved back, she was already missing his company. Any day with him always ended up being an exceptional one and she hadn’t realised how much she missed being around him until he was back again. If she was totally honest with herself, a part of her probably was into him. But she was glad that she wouldn’t have to see him for a while and deal with that. Having feelings for someone like him would not be fun to confront. He turned and started walking back to his friends, already writing the text messages in his head that he had to send off tomorrow.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein

25 notes · View notes

destieldrabblesdaily · 5 years

Note

hello there (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I'm pretty new to destiel and just found your blog because I wanted to look into some fanfics and someone recommended & turns that you have like a billion one shots for destiel! love your writing style but, I'm not sure where to start in your drabbles tag because it's soooo much (ﾟдﾟ) can u maybe point me to some popular ones or some that you preferred writing or something like that to get me started? thank you anyway (ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿

Hey friend!

Ahh, I totally get you. :p A billion is a bit ambitious, but with like 400 stories in one tag and no way to sort, it might get tricky. *sweats nervously for not having a better tagging system*

But anyway, you rock for finding my blog and liking my style, so here is a little something to help you out! For starters, a lot of my stories are also on AO3, which is still a realm of chaos, but is a hell of a lot easier to navigate than my tumblr tag.

Anyway, here is a little map to get you started, sorted by my most popular Destiel fics (according to AO3), and ones I personally just loved writing!

—

Canon!Verse fics, most popular:

1) CursedTeam Free Will is hunting a witch, but before she dies she turns Cas into a kitten. They can’t find a cure, and after two weeks everyone is losing hope. One night when Cas is sleeping on Dean’s chest, the curse fades and he turns into himself again. As Dean’s luck would have it, Sam walks into the living room seeing Dean sprawled out on the couch with a very naked Castiel on top of him.

2) JealousyWhen Dean, Sam and Castiel are having a drink at a bar after a hunt, Dean finds Cas flirting with a guy, and suddenly realizes something about his own feelings for the angel…

3) Dream A Little DreamCastiel goes after a Djinn but gets captured, and of course his dream world is all about Dean and him being happy together, so he’s very disappointed when Dean and Sam save him and he wakes up…

4) With A Little Help From My FriendDean is really nervous about finally telling Castiel how he feels, so he practices over Skype with Charlie. Naturally, Cas chooses that exact moment to drop by, and ends up hearing the whole thing…

5) WhiteboardFor a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room. When failing to say the words out loud, there’s always the option to write them down. So that’s exactly what Castiel suggests, and Dean humors him, the two of them finding new ways to understand and forgive each other by working through some issues from both the present and the past.

—

Soulmate AU’s, most popular:

1) What Can’t Be SeenSoulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

2) The PendantAU where instead of a tattoo/name everyone’s born with a pendant/charm necklace that matches their soulmate’s. Dean walks into their bathroom thinking it’s empty, but there’s Cas taking off his shirt to take a shower and Dean sees his necklace (that matches Dean’s, obviously) and freaks out (because Dean is totally 100% NOT gay at all). Bonus if Cas already knows.

3) Daffodils & Forget-Me-NotsSoulmate AU where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soulmate’s skin as well.

—

High School AU’s, most popular:

1) No HomoFor the prompt: ‘I wasn’t gay, but then I kissed you in front of some homophobes to piss them off, and turns out I might be kinda gay for you after all’. In which a kiss makes Dean realize that he has feelings for his best friend.

2) This Game We PlayDean and Castiel have been best friends since they were little, and sleepovers are a common event. They’ve always loved playing the game where they draw out letters on each others backs and try to guess what the other is writing. Even though sixteen seems to be a bit too old to still play the game, Castiel uses it as a chance to silently confess something that he’s been wanting to share with Dean for a long time.

3) Camping and CuddlesDean and Castiel have been best friends since forever, and they decide to go on a camping trip to celebrate graduating high school. When it starts raining and Cas’ tent turns out to have a huge hole in it, the boys are forced to share Dean’s tent, and things heat up.

4) The CallCastiel accidentally butt dials his best friend Dean, and Dean overhears a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears. Or: the one in which Dean finds out that his best friend has feelings for him.

5) Practice Makes Perfect‘It’s not gay if it’s practice, but shit that was actually really nice wanna practice some more?’ Or, the one in which Dean offers to help his best friend Cas improve his kissing skills, until it’s no longer just ‘practice’.

(If you are particularly into High School AU’s, I also made a complete list of al my HS AU’s that you can find here –> Click!

—

College/Roommate AU’s, most popular:

1) What It MeansDean’s roommate and best friend Castiel always says ‘I love you’ to him every night before they go to sleep. Seeing as Dean has some serious feelings for his friend, he can’t take the confusion any longer and one night asks Cas what it means when he says ‘I love you’.

2) If At First You Don’t SucceedFor the prompt: “Wait, did you just flirt with me?“ “Have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing.

”Dean has a huge crush on his friend Castiel, with whom he also shares an apartment. When he decides that he finally wants to woo Cas, everything that could possibly go wrong, does indeed go wrong.

3) UnbrokenDean’s best friend and roommate Castiel is asexual, and it’s causing Cas a lot of trouble when it comes to dating. Cas feels broken, but Dean deeply disagrees; he’d be with Cas in a heartbeat, if only Cas would see him as more than a friend…

4) Safe And SoundFor the prompt: ‘College!AU where Dean and Cas are roommates and one of them is afraid of thunder, so naturally they have to huddle/cuddle together until the storm is over.’

5) Hot & ColdDean and his best friend Castiel get stuck in the middle of nowhere when the Impala’s engine gives up on them. A snowstorm is raging, and it seems that the only way to keep warm is a method that sounds a lot like ‘naked cuddling’. Not that Dean is complaining.

—

Blind/Deaf AU’s, most popular:

1) Through Your EyesDean’s best friend Castiel is blind, which is why Cas loves it whenever Dean describes the things as he sees them. When Castiel gets curious and wants more details about Dean’s looks, Dean is reluctant to go into detail about them. Castiel’s solution is simple, and demands nothing more than a gentle touch.

2) At First SightDean has been blind since he was four years old, but at 18 years old he regains his sight through special surgery. This also means that he will finally be able to actually see his boyfriend Castiel for the first time. Castiel is excited, but at the same time utterly terrified that Dean won’t approve of his looks…

3) MisunderstandingsWhen the handsome new student Castiel Novak arrives at Lawrence High, Dean has every intention of making him feel welcome. However, Castiel seems to ignore Dean whenever Dean tries to talk to him…

4) DeliciousImagine your OTP, based on this text post: ‘Okay, so I’m a waitress at this restaurant that’s open really late and it’s nearly 1am and this family comes in and I’m so tired that I handed their BLIND SON a menu and he’s like “ah… thank you… I’ll just… read this” in a serious voice and I fucking snorted.'With blind!Dean and waiter!Cas.

—

Personal favorites to write:

1) Her Favorite Love StoryThe story of Dean and Castiel as seen through Mary Winchester’s eyes; AKA how she witnesses her oldest son fall in love with his best friend.

2) The MatchmakerBased on this prompt: “My cat keeps breaking into your apartment next to mine, so I tied a note to its collar to apologize, and you write back. We keep exchanging cat notes, and you turn out to be pretty cute.”

3) WingsWhen ten year old Dean Winchester and his family move to a new town, he becomes best friends with the boy next door, who happens to be an actual angel. Dean is fascinated with Castiel’s wings from the start, however when they get older, Cas suddenly starts hiding them and no longer wants Dean to groom them for him.

4) BlackboardsFor the prompt: 'Dean and Cas are both high school teachers, and they leave each other cute notes on each others’ black boards.’

5) To Date a DickCas is out on a date with a complete and utter asshole in a really nice restaurant, and Dean is their waiter who feels the need to intervene.

6) Angel Grace (2 Parts)Dean Winchester loves going to conventions to meet the cast of his favorite TV show 'Angel Grace’. Aside from being good at his job, lead actor Castiel Novak is charming, handsome, and has a heart of gold. Like many fans, Dean has a serious crush on the guy. However after meeting Castiel several times, it’s starting to look like Dean’s crush isn’t as one sided as Dean had always assumed it was.

—

Holiday Specials:

❄ Destiel Drabbles: December/Christmas Edition Fluffy Christmas-themed Destiel stories to warm the cockles of your heart during the cold December days!

❄ All I Want For ChristmasDuring a big family get together, a drunk Castiel starts singing ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ to his best friend Dean while the whole family watches.

🕷Destiel Drabbles: Halloween EditionSome fluffy Halloween themed Destiel drabbles. Happy Halloween!

🕷Kiss Or TreatCastiel has been dutifully handing out Halloween candy all night, entertaining the many kids ringing the Novak house’s doorbell, but he’s in for a big surprise when the bell rings once more and it’s his crush Dean Winchester suddenly standing there on his front porch…

🕷Of Holding Hands and Haunted HousesFor the prompt: 'You’re scared of haunted houses and Halloween attractions, and I don’t even know you but your friends left you behind (what dicks) so I’m gonna hold your hand and get you through this, alright?’

♥Valentine’s DayFor the prompt: 'Cas anonymously sending Dean one of those school Valentine’s Day flowers with a little personalized note, thinking that someone as popular as Dean won’t notice his message anyway because he gets so many. Little does he know that Dean sent one to him as well…’

—

If you feel like reading a multi-chapter Destiel fic, I wrote one of those as well:

Fortune CookiesDean and his best friend Jo own a bakery together. When a salesman named Crowley visits Dean to make a deal, Dean has no idea of the consequences, and his world turns upside down when an actual angel literally crashes into his life. For the first time in his thirty-year-existence, Dean is overwhelmed by real companionship, wings, and most of all… love.

—

Or for easily reading and clicking through short fluffy (mostly canon!verse) Destiel stories, go here:

~ 100 Days of Destiel Drabbles ~

Or here:

~ 30 Days of Destiel Drabbles ~

—

Hope this was helpful, and happy reading! :D (I really need to become a better tagger, ahum. :p)

#Anonymous #replies for ts #destiel #deancas #fic rec #sort of #long post for ts

309 notes · View notes

sonofkhaz · 4 years

Text

Musing: Pathologic 2

Pathologic 2 is what you get when Russian game developers down an entire bottle of Flintstone Vitamins with some Vodka while listening to Hardbass after being awake for 72 hours straight. It’s probably one of the best games I’ve played in terms of story-telling and themes.

It’s a great game, despite some mechanical issues. A few years ago, I got the original game off of GOG and only got about halfway through before giving up out of frustration and a little bit of boredom. The sequel fixed a lot of the problems the first game had. For starters, there’s a lot less walking back and forth; rather than having to literally walk around the whole town to check up on your patients to see how they’re doing, it now tells you at the end of each day if they’re okay, in danger of infection, or infected. It’s easier to track your character’s thoughts, the map now has markers, and you can sprint instead of walking (sprinting is now a feature, yes). You can use a ferry system to fast-travel around town at the cost of a coin called a Fingernail, and you can hold down CTRL to highlight points of interest and characters you can speak to.

Despite being praised in Russia and having very positive reviews (91% at the time of writing this) on Steam, the game didn’t get much traction upon its release in the west, with “game journalists”, a term I still don’t fully understand, comparing its difficulty to Dark Souls (yeah, some people still use Dark Souls as the litmus test for game difficulty) and claiming that it has Skyrim-inspired RPG elements. It’s as if “game journalists” have never played anything outside of Bioware games, Skyrim, Dark Souls and Pokemon.

Yeah...despite the fact that comparing a game like Pathologic 2 to something like Dark Souls or Skyrim is completely obtuse and ignorant, I think I understand where the frustration comes from, which I’ll get to later.

The game takes place in Town-On-Gorkhon, an isolated town in the steppes built upon contradictions. From a glance, the town might just look like your average early 20th century Russian town, but it’s inhabited by two groups of people: the Townsfolk, who are just becoming industrialized, and the Kinfolk, a group of Steppe nomads who hold veneration for bulls because they believe that the town rests on the back of a giant auroch, Mother Boddha. In addition, the latter group has a species of humanoids called Worms who water the ground with blood to grow plants, women called Herb Brides who dance in the steppes to make the twyre bloom, and other practices. Despite the contrasts, the two are not at complete odds at each other; rather, both cultures have meshed together.

In the first game, there were 3 different playable characters, but for now you’re only able to play as Artemy Burakh, the Haruspex. His father was a Kin doctor and his mother was a Townsfolk. After six years of medical school, Artemy is called back home by an urgent letter from his father, only to find out that he’s been murdered. See, a haruspex was someone in history who could divine the future from entrails; since Artemy is technically a surgeon who just returned to a town where cutting arteries, attacking someone with a knife, and digging holes in the ground are all considered taboo, he’s the primary suspect, so everyone hates his guts. People will initially refuse to trade with you, shopkeepers won’t sell their goods, and some people will try to attack you in the street. In the wake of this, a mysterious plague referred to only as the Sand Pest hits the town.

Pathologic 2 is like an adventure game and a “horror survival” tied into one. The imagery of the game goes from uncanny valley to flat out dark, with red pustules and moss-like substances growing on the buildings and streets of infected districts, infected townsfolk shuffling towards you to try and infect you, and plague clouds that manifest and chase you down the street. If you’re unfortunate to get infected with the plague, you hear voices in your head telling you, gently, to lay down and die so your suffering can cease. While you’re trying to find a cure and trying to save NPCs from the plague, you yourself are trying to survive.

Your overall survival is dependent on more than just your health bar. Sergei tries to shank you for your track suit and Semechki seeds, yeah, your health will go down if he manages to hit you. But then you have to factor in your hunger, exhaustion, immunity, and stamina/thirst. You’re hungry, so you eat some toast, but now your thirst meter is going up; while it’s not immediately detrimental, it affects the duration you’re able to sprint and fight. Your exhaustion meter is full, so you lay down to sleep for a few hours, but now your hunger is going back up and you’ve just spent precious hours that could have potentially have been used doing something else. Uh oh, you just got hit with a plague cloud and your immunity is dropping - do you use the immunity boosters/tinctures you were saving for patients to bring it back up, or are you going to take the risk and wait for it to slowly climb back to where it was?

Any time you die, your screen blacks out and you speak to Mark Immortell the Theatre Director, who gives you a tut-tut-tutting on dying and sends you back to your last save file with a penalty. Your maximum health/exhaustion meters are reduced, you get hungrier and more tired as time progresses, so on and so forth. These all stack, and they’re all permanent across all save files, so there’s no going back to scum save to prevent the penalties. If you die enough, you get visited by a friend who will offer to remove your current and future penalties forever...for a cost that you may not learn of until it’s too late to change your mind.

This ties back to my previous statement about how people were criticizing this game. A lot of survival games in modern gaming tend to be generous towards the player in terms of, well, survival - you have a meter that’s running low, or a supply that’s dwindling, so you stop whatever you’re doing to rectify the situation. Should you fail there’s usually an “out” by returning to a previous save. You can’t do this in Pathologic; one reason being mentioned in the previous paragraph. Another is the fact that time is always working against you - really, the only moment where time tends to stop moving is if you’re in a dream sequence or if you physically pause the game. The clock is always ticking so you need to frequently assess the efficiency of what you’re doing and if it will pay off in the long run. The game has a lot of choices, and not in Peter Molyneux’s Fable or Black and White perspectives of “choice”. The decisions can vary greatly. Let’s say that one of your friends needs a water barrel because they want to get water for the poor and impoverished in their district. Well meaning, but what if it infects the neighbors? The hospital needs the tinctures you need to boost the immunity of nameless patients; everyone will like you more if you carry the task out, and you’ll get paid the next day, but what if tomorrow means that half a dozen cast characters get infected and you don’t have the time to make more tinctures?

Critics of Pathologic 2 have bemoaned the fact that you can’t just walk around, immune to virtually anything and everything, and talk to the NPCs while freely exploring the town to learn more about the Sand Pest and the overall story. The desire to know more about the story is a fair point, but here’s where I see the problem: There’s a genre of story-driven adventure style games, usually referred to as “Walking Simulators”, that are typically praised and lauded by the “video games are art” crowd. Games like Dear Esther, Firewatch, What Remains of Edith Finch, and Gone Home are usually put in this category.

The difference between Pathologic 2 and those games is that the latter group takes a more “hands-off” approach in their storytelling. You don’t have a lot of interactivity or mechanics that directly tie into the games. The named NPCs you speak with in Pathologic 2 are fleshed out; it’s personal because Artemy Burakh has history with them, and the decisions that you make, or don’t make, will ultimately decide their survival. Many of them have multiple outcomes; you speak with them, see their angles, see what information they may be willing to give out or abstain from initially giving, so on and so forth. The game pushes you towards investing them emotionally. Not only are you trying to save them from the plague, but you’re trying to save yourself. You’re also trying not to starve, you’re also trying not to get infected. Rather than watching a sinking ship, you’re part of the crew trying to bail the water out and plug the hole.

Not all the mechanics are perfect. Guns and their ammo, while being extremely rare/expensive to find, have a tendency to jam up way too much and hitboxes can be choosy. Hand-to-hand combat can feel clunky, and the inventory can be a colossal pain in the ass to manage since the game does not auto-sort individual stacks and uses Diablo-style inventory management. However, I have very rarely seen things like these critiqued by the “video games are art” crowd; rather, they complain about the meter management. The problems of the town seem real because you’re in it as well. Without having to manage your meters, making sacrifices and decisions, it takes away the conditions that make moments in the game memorable.

Remember: Failure is a very real, understandable and relatable aspect of human life and society. There are times in life where you fail repeatedly before you see the light at the end of the tunnel and triumph. One of the marketing pitches of this game was, “You can’t save everybody”. For example, I spent three consecutive days treating Andrey Stamatin after he was afflicted with the Sand Pest, and it ultimately came to naught because he died anyway. Some of the game's most memorable moments and interesting dialogue come when you are unsuccessful, because the game knows that you’re going to fail at some points even when you try your best.

Overall, would I recommend Pathologic 2? Absolutely. Would I recommend it to someone who cares about story-driven games? Totally. Would I recommend it to people who have low frustration walls? No.

#pathologic 2 #pathologic #computer games #musing #long post

17 notes · View notes

styledeficit · 4 years

Text

I was doing this anyway (sourdough tips for a cold house YMMV)

TLDR; you will have trouble making sourdough in a cold house. Even more so if you don’t have an airing cupboard. You will also have trouble getting ordinary bread to rise. Here is a tip: if you have a microwave, cover whatever it is that needs to rise with a tea-towel and put it in the microwave with 2 mugs full of boiling water. Close the door and leave it. Replace the hot water when you can tell the temperature in there is dropping. If you don’t have a microwave you can do it in the oven - maybe add another mug of hot water, if the oven is big. You don’t need to turn the oven or the microwave on. Just use them as smaller, insulated spaces to keep the heat in, and use hot water to make the heat. It’s not perfect but it does work.

(Mini-tip - just keep boiling the same water. Pour it back into the kettle. You’re not making tea with it, so it doesn’t matter if you’re boiling out the oxygen. There’s no point wasting water.)

Other useful tips for making sourdough in a cold house:

Your sourdough levain/starter might not rise like everyone else’s does

Once you’ve fed it, when you check it however many hours later, look for even the tiniest bubble on the surface. Hopefully you’ll spot one. Then, take a spoon and stir the mix slowly - does it look sort of thready, or frothy, and feel airier as you stir? It might even sound a bit different as you stir it. It should feel very different to when you started - you might not see the same bubbles everyone on the internet has but it should look like you’re stirring something airier than your original mix. If you are, and you feel like you’ve fed it enough and left it long enough, you might be ok. Give it a go.

Mine hasn’t risen above any marker I’ve made on the jar yet, if I’m completely honest. But it does feel very airy and look thready/frothy under the surface when I stir it. So I’ve used it.

If it isn’t active fry it and make a pancake

I have mixed up a bunch of levain/starter that didn’t form a single bubble. Nothing. Nada. If yours doesn’t work, don’t just chuck it. Google for ‘fried sourdough starter’ and make a pancake. It’s pretty good.

(If you don’t have any mother left, keep a bit of this back - you might be able to bring it back to life next time, with different flour.)

If it is all working you can cold proof it

I’ve tried the bulk-fermentation in a warmed microwave (as described in the first paragraph above) and it does work. To be honest, my no-where-near-as-active-as-everyone-else’s dough rose really well.

To get it to that state I did everything as described in this excellent video of the Tartine method.

But I’ve had a lot of trouble getting it out of the banneton. Which is infuriating – it’s like falling at the last hurdle as you have to drag the dough out and ruin all your hard work. You can still bake it but it looks like a goddamn mess.

After reading around a bit I think it’s because the moisture from the hot water used for warming the space makes the surface sticky. So last time (last night, in fact) I cold proofed it in the fridge. And for the first time didn’t use the linen liner in the banneton either. When I looked this morning, the rise was minimal. Actually I was pretty disappointed. I took it out of the fridge for an hour had a small crisis, and then just decided to bake anyway – and both loaves turned out fine.

Next time though, as the house really is cold, I think I might just cold proof on the counter overnight, and not do it in the fridge. Cold proofing is a great idea generally though, because it means you’re not spending your entire life worrying about the dough. You can just ignore it for 12 hours.

The second photo was taken when it was out of the oven for about 10 mins. You’re supposed to wait longer than that before you cut it but I was hungry. That might be why you, a possible expert, is thinking it looks a bit doughy. Or honestly, I could just be crap at this - I’ve only been doing this for about 5 bakes.

And that’s all the tips I got. I’m not a baker baker, I’m a person that lives in a cold house. And none of the tutorials ever seem to mention that as a possibility.

Side note: I’ve been baking non-sourdough bread and tea cakes over the last few years. Usually when I’m bored, or to stop me baking cakes and biscuits, which were causing me to put on weight. (I really like raw cookie dough. Raw bread dough? Not so much.)

On a whim, a while ago, I asked someone I work with for some of his sourdough starter. I don’t even know why I asked, now I think about it. I guess I’d heard people talking about sourdough so thought, ‘yeah, why not? Sounds interesting’ - and holy crap it’s a pain in the arse. It just so happened that about 4 bakes in, everyone started to self-isolate and now everyone is baking sourdough loaves. So now everyone gets to find out what a pain in the arse it is. If you can get flour and you want an easier life, google ‘no knead bread’. The first loaf I ever made was no knead bread. It’s really easy, but it takes a while. Or just bake a white loaf - like this recipe by Paul Hollywood. I’m keeping going with the sourdough for now because I feel bad about letting it die. Also, if I’m completely honest, it does taste nice. Also, I sort of want to get it right. (Damn you, baking gods!)

#sourdough #sourdougbread #baking

18 notes · View notes

totallycorrectpmdquotes · 4 years

Note

Hi! Not to rush you, but do you have a date in mind to update Backfire? I really wanna see how Dusknoir gets out of this one >:3

*abrupt realization that I’ve been sitting on this ask for almost two months, and haven’t transferred chapters 4 & 5 over from AO3* uh. Whoops.

Let me just… fix that…

(Previous Chapters)

Uxie’s powers aren’t just limited to his lake, and affect all memories which could be traced back to the Time Gears. It’s easy to imagine the mental catastrophe this could cause in the mind of someone who’s spent nearly their entire life looking into them. In his defense, Uxie was really mad at Grovyle.

Dusknoir didn’t look anythinglike the Guildmaster did when he was asleep. For starters, he’d actually closedhis eye, while Wigglytuff had always just stared blankly ahead. He’d also beensurrounded by an ominous blacklight aura and moved stiffly compared to theGuildmaster’s ragdoll-limbs. It was easy to tell when he woke up – the auradropped and Dusknoir jerked back, obviously upset by what he’d nearly done toChatot.

At least, Breeze hoped so. Shereally, really hoped the Great Dusknoir hadn’t meant to hurt Chatot like that.

The Guildmaster still trembledand held Chatot tight, only a few seconds away from bawling as Chatot repeatedhow fine he was.

Breeze grabbed one of her oranberries from her treasure bag and passed it off to Chimecho. Chimecho didn’tneed any other instructions, she joined the Guildmaster in fussing over Chatotand began the long, painful process of convincing him to eat it.

Dusknoir spoke, finally, andstared past the group. “He’s awake.”

Breeze felt her partner shove herout of the way just in time to avoid the curtain that fell on her Guildmates.Grovyle tucked and rolled, landing only a pawstep away from Breeze.

“Wait -” she started to say, butGrovyle was faster. He leapt for the wall, and with one solid kick took out thewindow frame and launched himself out of the guild.

The guild struggled out from thecurtain as both Breeze and Dusknoir dove for the window, his hands and her pawsside by side as they both leaned halfway out. Grovyle threw the frame away andcaught a ledge, swinging himself back up onto solid ground. He looked back upat them, his expression barely outlined in the dim torchlight – wide eyes and atense posture.

“We’ll handle this!” Dugtriocalled, and the ground under Breeze’s paws churned. She leaned further, eyesstill on Grovyle as he shook off his claws – and Dugtrio popped out of the wallright in front of him. Grovyle yelped and slapped him.

It wasn’t a move – it was just aslap. Dugtrio was unphased.

“Do not engage!” Chatot squawked,and ruffled Breeze’s fur as he flew overhead. He swooped down, wobbling onstill half-frozen wings. This time, Grovyle did use a move – quickattack, it looked like, from how he cleared the distance between himand Chatot in a single bound. With two flaps, Chatot tried to fly back – withthe ice still in his wings, weighing him down, he had no chance of succeeding.

Chatot hit a rocky slope andslid. Dugtrio abandoned his post and burrowed through the cliff face to shootout only a pawstep above the ocean’s waves. He broke Chatot’s fall, but nearlylost his grip. Grovyle landed back on the ledge and sent a shower of pebblesdown at them.

Breeze could feel her guildmatescrowded behind her as they tried to squeeze past or lift each other up so theycould see too. Wigglytuff sobbed, and Breeze could feel the guild shake underher – Grovyle flattened himself against the cliff face to avoid falling off it.A burning growl rose up in her throat, and she turned to Dusknoir as embers litup her teeth. “Do something! ”

Dusknoir jolted and stared at herfor a second before he disappeared. Wigglytuff pushed through the crowd to takehis spot. Breeze spun back around as Grovyle yelped and pressed his backagainst the cliff – Dusknoir had manifested just out of arm’s reach off thecliff’s edge.

“You’re coming with me,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Grovylereplied, his weak rasp nearly lost to the wind and waves. He clung to the wallbehind him and stared at Dusknoir.

No, wait. PastDusknoir?

Breeze squinted and leanedfarther. There was a shadow floating over the ocean, silhouetted by moonlight.It held out a hand, and a ball of blacklight curled in its palm.

Breeze had a thought, then, abouthow that blacklight the shadow held looked an awful lot like the one that hadsurrounded Dusknoir earlier. Then she saw where it was aiming.

She didn’t think again.“Look out! ” Breeze shouted as she flung herself out thewindow. Her guildmates echoed her by screaming her name, but did nothing thatstopped her from smashing into Dusknoir. He was knocked aside as she bouncedback – her back hit the cliff face, the sharp stones pierced her fur, and shetumbled forward.

A clawed hand grabbed her backpaw and swung her up before she could skid further. Grovyle set her down andopened his mouth to say something.

Then she tackled him, andthe shadow ball exploded the ledge they’d been standing on amoment before. Grovyle hit the cliffs, Breeze hit Grovyle, and they flipped.She got a clear view of her guildmates holding Dusk back from throwing himselfafter her, and everyone on the cliff-face reaching for her.

Dusknoir’s outstretched handsclosed around the strap of her Treasure Bag instead of her leg, and Breeze hitthe ocean head-first.

.-.

By the time Dusknoir managed tobreak away from the frantic guild members and reach his underlings’ campsite,they were already packed and ready to leave. Dusknoir would be thankful if hewas an idiot and not well aware they would not be ready yet without outsideorders.

“You,” he pointed to the closestone, “What are you doing?”

The other five froze as thatsableye turned to face Dusknoir. He had a glassy, unfocused look in hisgemstone eyes. He was half-asleep. “What you asked us to do,Lord Dusknoir.”

Dusknoir’s heart hammered, and hecovered the rising panic with rage. “Humour me. What is it?”

The other sableye backpedaled andabandoned their associate. The traitor in front of Dusknoirfrowned, then laughed nervously. “To… search down the girl and Grovyle…? Andeliminate them?”

Another sableye piped up. “Noneof us saw you give him these orders, Lord Dusknoir!”

“As I suspected,” Dusknoirreplied, and wrapped a hand around Sableye’s torso. He lifted him and squeezed.“Do you feel this?”

Sableye wheezed, and Dusknoirfelt his ribs start to bend under his grasp. He dropped the pokemon and let himland in a heap.

“This is real. Remember it. Don’tbe a fool.” He looked up at the others. A few stared at their companion, butnone of them were stupid enough to rush over to check on him. “You will searchfor them, but you will not engage. You will follow the coast until you uncovera marker of them coming ashore, which you will then report to me. Tail them. Donot let them see you. Am I understood?” He towered over the one in front of him,and watched that poor, stupid sableye cough. “Do not let thisworld turn you soft. Our mission isn’t done yet.”

A rumble of reluctant agreementran through his underlings. Dusknoir cracked his knuckles, and the reluctancedisappeared.

He took his leave, a chesto berryborrowed from Team Relic’s treasure bag clutched in his hand in case Darkraidecided to pay him another visit. Dusknoir cut through the trees to return tothe crossroads and gave the path to the beach a long look. The sky over theocean had started to turn a pale blue. He could hear the waves lapping againstthe sand, just loud enough to reach his ears. The scent of sea salt mixed withdew-covered leaves blew past on the gentle breeze, pleasantly cool.

There was, yet again, a shadow ofa human man right beside him.

Dusknoir pointedly ignored him,and the distant commotion of the guild, as he watched the sun rise.

.-.

For what was unfortunately notthe first time in her memory, Breeze woke up covered in sand with a full bodyache.

She started gagging before sheeven tried to force her eyes open, and by the time she had managed to sit upshe had a disgustingly large pile of sand that had been in her mouth infront of her.

“Ew,” her throat burned. “Ew, ew-” she fluffed up her fur and immediately winced - her muscles screamed at theextra tension. She flopped back down onto the packed earth floor, which wasfreezing, and decided she’d just be covered in sand the rest of her life. Thelittle cave she’d ended up in seemed to be more dirt than sand, so maybe shecould get some variety. Her Persim Band, by some miracle, wasn’t sand-coated –but it was stuck in one stiff position thanks to a thick layer of seasalt. Great.

The faint sunlight at the end ofthe cave turned dark, and Breeze forced herself through the pain to sit upagain.

“Oh, you’re alive.” Grovyle said.He took a bite of one of the apples he held in his arms. “Sorry I couldn’t giveyou a better bed, I barely managed to drag you in here before I passed out. Youmust be hungry. Luckily for you, I found a sitrus.” He started to cross thedistance between them. Breeze put all her energy into backing up as fast as shecould. Grovyle stopped.

“Where are we?” She fluffed upher fur and growled. The deep ache nearly made her lose her balance.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Grovylesaid. He set the sitrus and an apple down and backed up. He took another biteof his own apple and chewed before he spoke. Breeze didn’t move. “We’re in somesort of burrow by a river that meets the ocean. We got swept quite a distancealong the coast, and the waves did a number on you.” Breeze still didn’t move.Grovyle rolled his eyes. “If I leave will you eat the berry?”

“Why did you save me?” Breezeasked.

“Why did you save me? ”Grovyle replied.

The two stared at each other fora long moment. Breeze swallowed the urge to point out that she’d been trying tosave Dusknoir, not him. Grovyle just frowned at her.

After that long, awkward momentpassed, Breeze lowered her gaze. She took a deep breath in and started to inchcloser to Grovyle. He doesn’t remember the Time Gears. He doesn’tremember being a bad Pokémon. I wanted to give him a second chance. I’m givinghim a second chance.

Within only one bite, the warmthof the sitrus berry had started to soothe her aching everything. She ate therest in only two more bites. “Thanks,” she said as soon as she finished, “thathelped.”

“Don’t mention it,” Grovyle said.He rolled the apple closer to her, and Breeze finished it in a few bites –Grovyle still nursed his own. “…So, Nixie, you got a name?”

Breeze looked up from her applecore. “I’m a vulpix.”

“Oh,” Grovyle narrowed his eyesat her, “are you? Is a nixie your evolution?”

“No? That’s a ninetales.” She hadn’tforgotten basic pokemon names when she’d lost her memories. “What’s a nixie?”

Grovyle frowned at Breeze for severallong moments before he shook his head and rubbed one of his temples with twoclaws. “Never mind. I’m… what’s your name?”

Breeze hesitated. “Uh,” she pawedthe ground and scraped back a line of dirt. Dusk would know if it wasappropriate to answer that question. But Dusk wasn’t here, and Breeze wasalone. Type advantage or not, she was alone. “Good question. My best friendcalls me Breeze. What about you?”

Grovyle’s frown deepened. “Thatdoesn’t matter,” he said. “If you can walk, we-”

“No, no,” Breeze cut in, andtried to fix Grovyle with a serious look. “You don’t get to ask me your nameand not offer yours.”

He shook his head. “It’s notimportant, I shouldn’t have asked. As I was saying -”

“Do you not remember?”

There was a beat of heavy silencebetween them. Breeze did her best not to wilt under Grovyle’s huge-eyed stare.

“I do,” Grovyle said,unconvincingly. “But if I’m here then I don’t deserve it.” He pointed over hisshoulder, “That shadow might find us again if we stay. We should keep moving.”

Breeze narrowed her eyes. Grovylepointedly did not look at her. “Why?” She settled on at last, “What will happenif it catches us?”

“I don’t know,” Grovyle said.“It’ll probably try and kill me again. You too, given that you helped me. Thesafest option is to keep moving.”

“Why? So it can track you?”Breeze sat down and crossed her front paws over top of each other. “So you haveto keep running? So you have to jump out more windows and off more cliffs?”

“You pushed me,”Grovyle grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. You know that’s notmy point.” She waved a paw, “I also told you not to jump out the window. Do youhave any idea why I didn’t want you to throw yourself into the ocean?” Grovylegave her a particularly grumpy glare. This time, Breeze ignored it. “We were atthe Wigglytuff Guild. Everyone at the guild helps Pokemon who are in danger. Weprotect ones who are running from something. Everyone there is strong,especially the Guildmaster.”

“Was that the one choking thebird or the one doing the choking?” Grovyle said, deadpan.

“Neither, actually. Dusknoir wassleepwalking and didn’t mean to hurt Chatot.” He didn’t look any moreconvinced. Breeze shuffled, suddenly sheepish. “I’m sure if we go back, and youjust talk to them, you’ll see what I mean. It’s safer than running. Okay?That’s why we brought you back there in the first place.”

Instead of looking at Breeze,Grovyle focused on the apple. For several tense breaths, the only sound wasa snap as he twisted off the stem.

“You knew I was having memoryissues,” Grovyle said. “Is it wrong to assume you know why?”

Breeze nearly choked on her ownanxious gulp. “Kinda? I – I didn’t bring you back. Dusknoir did. He – youshould ask him what happened to you.”

Grovyle kept eye contact as hetook a slow bite of his apple. “But you know. Why won’t you tell me?”

How are you this calm? It tooka whole mystery dungeon for me to stop panicking when I lost my memory. Isnot what Breeze said, as tempted as she was. Instead, she shrugged. “I don’tknow enough to help you. I just -” didn’t want to abandon you, wantedto give you a second chance, felt my gut churn at the thought of lettingDusknoir take you back to the future and I don’t know why, “- want toknow what you remember? We all do. Dusknoir told us you’d have memoryproblems.”

For several moments longer,Grovyle stared at her, chewing slowly. “Did he find anyone else with me? Anyother treeckos? Or grovyles? Sceptiles, even?”

There was a sinking, sad feelingin Breeze’s gut. “No,” she said, and caught the tiniest flinch from Grovyle.“You were alone, as far as I know. Dusknoir would know more.” He saidyou had a friend in the future.

In the silence that followed,Grovyle finally finished his apple – including the core, seeds and all. “Well,”he said, “as I was trying to say before, we should go. Staying here won’t do usany good, especially with that shadow on our tail. If you can walk, we shouldleave.”

“Back to the guild?” Breezeasked, hopefully.

“If that’s where this Dusknoiris, then sure.” Grovyle shrugged and offered a hand to help Breeze up. Shepretended not to see it. “But I’m not sticking around.”

“Alright,” Breeze said. And stoodup on her unsteady legs as Grovyle pulled his hand back. She offered him asmile. He just looked confused. “Then let’s go.”

Grovyle nodded and made his wayto the entrance. He waited for Breeze to stumble over to him before continuingout of their riverbank cave at a much slower pace. They stayed side by side asthey stumbled up the dry riverbed.

Although the two barely looked ateach other (aside from courtesy checks to be sure the other was still besidethem), they both kept their eyes to the sky as the sun rose higher and higherpast the dawn.

#Backfire #PMD #Pokemon Mystery Dungeon #so far the theme for this fic seems to be that every five chapters I write a REALLY GOOD ONE and I can confirm that chapter 5 is dope #mine #Anonymous

11 notes · View notes

rosy-night-sky · 5 years

Text

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure Hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart @xxqueenwxtchxx

Chapter 3

The mechanical hum of the plane you were in resonated throughout the cabin as you looked out the window, admiring the beautiful Indian sky, which had shifted into a pale blue ever since you and the rest of the team had taken off. Wisps of cloud fluttered by your window like tufts of cotton. As you glanced to the earth below, you noticed the forested terrain had turned more rugged and hilly, and small villages dotted the land here and there.

You and the team had been traveling for nearly two weeks at this point. Apparently while you had been unconscious, Namjoon and Jin had taken the time to study your tapestry, and they determined that the next step in the plan was to make their way toward the mountain ranges in the Bengal and Assam regions. Ever the one to be prepared, Jin had previously purchased an airliner with a capacity of anywhere from nine to seventeen passengers and a needed crew of three. Once you all had your supplies packed, you were off.

The plan was to land in Darjeeling and then take a vehicle up through the mountains. You were hoping that the time it would take to get there would fly by -- both figuratively and literally -- but with having to stop every five hundred kilometers or so for fuel, it grew more and more wearisome.

Most days you spent reading up on the history surrounding the tapestry, although you also attempted to make light conversation with the others every once in a while. It wasn’t that you disliked the boys, but rather you just couldn’t find anything to talk about other than the expedition. You formed all sorts of conversation starters in your mind, but when they would begin talking to you, your mind would go completely blank.

Your daydreaming is interrupted when you see Yoongi wandering toward you from the cockpit, fiddling with something in his hands. He stopped in front of you and, without a word, handed you what you realized to be a camera. You turned it over in your hands before raising your eyebrow in an unspoken question.

“Jin wanted me to give you this after I was done tinkering with it,” he explained as you inspected its leathery and sleek appearance. He folded his arms. “Don’t break it. I already have enough stuff to fix as it is.”

You smiled, remembering when Namjoon accidentally broke one of the armrests, causing Yoongi to go off on a rant about how if he had known Namjoon was such a hazard, he would never have taken this job.

“Thank you. I’ll try not to be as clumsy as the others,” you replied, carefully placing the camera to the side. Your mind was at a blank again. Shit, what should you say? Should you ask about the maintenance of the plane? Should you ask something more personal? “Um, so, what’s your favorite food?” You mentally cringed at your words. Why the hell did you ask that?

Yoongi quirked an eyebrow. “I guess anything with meat in it. Can’t resist a good steak.” He then grinned. “What, are you planning on cooking our next meal?”

You took a moment to ponder that. “There’s only so much rations I can take. Maybe I will cook. I’ve been craving bangers and mash,” you suggested. “Or perhaps bubble ‘n squeak?”

Yoongi’s face wrinkled in slight disgust. “I forget you British people have no sense of taste,” he remarked, leaning against one of the seats with his arms still crossed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. “My American colleagues would agree with you, but I can assure you that my shepherd’s pie is anything but disgusting,” you mentioned.

“Pie? Who’s making pie?” Taehyung suddenly butted in, tampering with some mechanism in one hand. You and Yoongi noticed a stick of dynamite sticking out of the contraption and flew from your spots to the farthest corner from where Taehyung stood.

“What the hell?!” Yoongi shouted angrily, pressing you close to the wall and holding an arm out in front of you for protection. “Are you trying to kill us all?!”

Taehyung stared at you both in bewilderment for a few seconds before glancing down at the mechanism in his hand. Realization dawned upon him as his mouth formed around a silent “oh.” “Geez, calm down, you two. It’s defective. I wouldn’t just walk around with an explosive in hand in a flying plane,” he laughed, removing the stick and twirling it between his fingers.

Yoongi relaxed a bit and shook his head in disbelief, finally moving away from the wall. The smell of oil and metal left with him. “Y’know, these days, I'm not so sure,” he sighed, jabbing a finger at him.

“What’s going on in here?” Jin asked as he walked in. His eyes, too, landed upon Taehyung and the stick of dynamite. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. When the dots finally connected after a few seconds of stunned silence, his eyebrows shot up as he flung himself back and screamed at the top of his lungs, fear etched into every part of his face.

You had never seen a man so scared in your entire life.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Jin! It’s defective!”

He seemed to calm down a bit at those words, but fear and paranoia remained imprinted in his features. His eyes were glued to the explosive. “Well, get rid of it then!” he snapped, recomposing himself from such an embarrassing ordeal.

“Can everyone please stop yelling?” Jimin shouted from his seat in the cockpit. “It’s a little hard to concentrate with all that commotion back there!”

Jungkook poked his head out from the cockpit, slight concern growing on his face. “What’s wrong-”

“Before you start screaming,” Taehyung interrupted, jabbing the dynamite at a now surprised Jungkook, “it’s defective.” He then brushed past everyone and unceremoniously tossed the stick into a cardboard box labeled in black marker ‘defective’. You all flinched when it landed in the box but relaxed after a few seconds of anxious silence.

Jin sighed, his broad shoulders sagging. “Tae, what have we said about messing with the explosives?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Don’t touch them unless absolutely necessary. But you know who made that rule?” Taehyung pointed at himself. “Me. I’m the expert here, and I say it’s absolutely necessary to check every once in a while to separate the defects from the working explosives.”

“Just do it away from us so we don’t go into cardiac arrest,” you said, crossing your arms.

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders before leaving the group, probably to go check on the supplies once more. Jin collapsed in a nearby chair, his hand resting on his chest. Yoongi shuffled away, mumbling something about fixing whatever recent thing Namjoon had broken. This left you alone with the millionaire and the muscle.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck before turning to Jin. “Hyung, would you like a drink?” he suggested, knowing fully well the guy needed it.

Jin nodded, “Get me a soju.”

Jungkook went over to one of the nearby boxes and pulled out a green bottle. Looking up to you, he asked “Would you like anything, too, y/n?”

You considered the offer for a few moments, wondering if now was a good time to be drinking. However, after that scare with the dynamite, a drink sounded amazing. “Sure, I guess I’ll also have a soju.” You then smirked. “As long as it isn’t drugged.”

The bodyguard chuckled at your comment as he took the green bottle and three shot glasses. He popped off the cap using one of the nearby armrests and poured the clear liquid into the shot glasses. “Have you ever had soju?” he questioned as he handed you your drink.

You shook your head. “No, but I can’t think of a better time to rectify that.”

“It tastes like watered down vodka, in case you’re wondering,” Jin described to you as he received his glass from the younger man.

You held the glass out and observed it for a few seconds, taking a moment to watch the liquid swirl around. “Vodka, huh? I expected you to be more of a wine guy,” you commented, bringing your drink back down.

“I am,” Jin replied, looking out the window at the cloudy, blue sky for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to you, “but this situation calls for something a little stronger.” He then lifted his glass up in the air for a toast. “Geon bae.”

You also lifted up your glass. “Geon bae,” you cheered, causing Jungkook to chuckle at your attempt to replicate Jin’s pronunciation. You all threw the shot back, and you felt the liquid burn in your throat as you swallowed it down. Ah, you could feel its warmth pooling in your stomach, and you released a sigh you felt had been trapped in your chest for a long time. “It does taste like watered down vodka.”

“This is from Jimin’s stash,” Jungkook confessed. He lifted a finger to his lips and smirked at you, narrowing his eyes in a conspiratory manner. “Let’s keep this a secret between us.” You weren’t sure if your cheeks were heating up because of the look in his eyes or because of the alcohol.

You grinned back at him, trying to ignore your flustered state. “Just as long as you don’t tell him I took some of his rations,” you bargained, surprised at your own banter. It had to be the alcohol, right?

His smirk was replaced with a mirthful smile as he laughed at your comment. “It’s a deal then,” he concluded, still laughing to himself.

“Then I guess I might as well admit that I used some of Jimin’s cologne when he wasn’t looking?” Jin added, clinking his fingers against his glass sheepishly.

“Everyone probably uses Jimin’s stuff when he isn’t looking,” you noted casually, remembering the time when Jimin was looking for his comb when Taehyung had secretly swiped it.

“Gentlemen and... gentlewoman... we are now arriving at our destination. Please buckle yourselves as we descend into Darjeeling. Thank you for flying Jimin Airlines!” The pilot in question announced over the overhead speakers.

Jungkook chuckled to himself as he took yours and Jin’s glasses and placed them back in the crate he pulled them from. “What a dork...” He seated himself in the chair next to Jin, and buckled himself in with a resounding ‘click’.

Namjoon soon entered the cabin, nose deep in his book which, from the looks of it, was written in Bengali. He gave you a polite greeting before he took a seat in front of Jin. You decided to sit next to him, since you haven’t had the chance to talk to the archeologist yet. As you buckled yourself in, you peeked at Namjoon’s book again. You admired the beautiful artwork that adorned one of the pages he was currently reading.

“How’s the book?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Namjoon turned his gaze to you, unsure if you were talking to him at first. “Oh, um, it’s good,” he answered, setting the book in his lap. “It’s all about the history of the Bengali and Assam regions. I thought I’d refresh my memory, since our expedition is taking us here.”

You nodded in understanding, finding his research to be both fascinating and impressive. “So, what’s this about then?” you inquired, pointing at a page.

Namjoon glanced down at where you pointed, his dark eyes wandering over the page. “It’s just talking about how the Pala Empire formed under Gopala I,” he explained. “Both regions were a part of the empire until the Hindu Sena dynasty dethroned the Pala Empire in the 12th century.”

You were impressed that Namjoon didn’t simply read the page verbatim, instead summarizing based on his own memory and understanding. You knew he was incredibly intelligent the moment he dated your tapestry, but he continued to impress you. Before this had all began, when you were still arranging a meeting with him about your tapestry, you had done some research of your own on the man, which had led to an impressive list of books all written by the historian. Of course, you hadn't done enough research to find out he wasn’t actually an active professor like he had led you to believe.

“Y/n!” you heard your name being called in a cheerful tone. Hoseok bounded into your view and sat down in the flight seat in front of you, smiling brightly at you. “You almost forgot your camera in the back seats.” He held out the leather encased camera, and you mentally chastised yourself as you took it out of his hands. “You’re lucky it was me who found it and not Yoongi.”

You imagined the scowl and rant you would have received from the mechanic and were extremely thankful to the doctor. “Yeah, thanks for saving my neck, Hoseok,” you chuckled, tightening your grip on the case.

He laughed. “Well, I am the doctor. It’s what I do,” he smiled his infectious smile. “Oh, and please, call me Hobi. The others already call me that anyway. You might as well too at this point.”

“Dr. Hobi,” you tested the name on your tongue. “Sounds like a character from the cartoons in the papers.”

“Oooh! I like the sound of that! Dr. Hobi to the rescue!”

—————————————

Just as planned, you landed in Darjeeling and were currently helping the other boys bring the supplies to the motel rooms Jin had booked for the night. You placed all of the crates you could manage onto your flat and started pushing it past the other boys. Big mistake on your part. Why? Because it was currently thirty degree celsius and very humid, and the boys were doing manual work, which meant, yes, they were indeed sweating.

Most of them had their sleeves rolled up and their shirts unbuttoned as sweat rolled down their faces. You could see Jungkook’s muscles flex as he carried heavy equipment to his flat and Namjoon’s sculpted calves clench as he lifted his share of the crates. You felt the blood rush to your already warm cheeks, and you willed yourself not to look at them.

Get a grip, woman, you scolded yourself internally.

You had to remind yourself that they were your teammates, not men you could fantasize about. This was all strictly professional, and you intended to keep it that way.

“Need a hand, boys?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your brow as you tried your very best not to notice the way Jimin’s shirt was currently very see through.

Taehyung grinned at you mirthfully and sauntered over. Dear Lord, he was wearing a tank top. “Could I add something to your flat?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded. “Yep! Just put it right here!” You pointed at an open area.

“Thanks, y/n.” He then stretched himself out on the flat and wrapped his arms behind his head. His eyes fluttered shut as he continued to grin cheekily. “Alright, darling, take us over.”

You gaped at him. “You cheeky monkey!” you scolded, smacking him on the shoulder, rousing a chorus of laughter from him and the rest of the team. “Get up!”

Yoongi looked wistfully at Taehyung. “Why didn’t I think of that earlier?” he wondered out loud to himself.

You shook the flat hoping it would cause the demolition expert to flop off, but he stubbornly stuck to his spot. Exasperation flood over your being as you threw your head back. Wasn’t this man supposed to be an adult? Then why was he acting like a child? “Taehyung, get off!” you chided, giving the flat another good shake. However, your efforts bore no fruit.

Taehyung pouted slightly. “Why? I get a nice view of you from down here,” he bluntly remarked, his pout forming into a bold grin.

You sputtered for a few seconds, your mind at a complete loss for words. Did he just…? No, that can’t be right. You must’ve heard wrong. Maybe he was talking about the nice view of the sky? Yes, that had to be it.

Jimin giggled at your bothered state, crouching down slightly so his arms rested on his thighs. “Aw, look how flustered you made her, Tae~” he cooed, tilting his head amusedly. “Looks like someone isn’t used to getting complimented.”

Your cheeks were inflamed at this point, and you were fairly sure everyone could see how embarrassed you were. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to being complimented, but rather the boys were taking it a step further than complimenting. It was on the border of flirting. “Of course I’m used to being complimented!” you refuted, trying to recompose yourself. “It’s just that-! I-!”

“Liar!” Hoseok interjected, wrapping an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders. “You’re sooo not used to getting complimented.I think we should fix that, don’t you agree?” He looked at Yoongi for answer.

The mechanic shrugged his shoulders. “If we fix it, then we won’t get to see her all embarrassed again,” he mentioned, looking at the other’s for their opinion.

Hoseok let out a noise of agreement before adding, “You’re right! She looks so cute when she’s shy!”

You panicked once more. Cute? You can’t remember the last time someone called you cute. All your friends squealed about how cute your cat was, but never had anyone recently called you cute. You placed a hand on your cheek to feel if it was indeed inflamed, and you were fairly certain your cheeks were never this hot before. “Okay, okay!” you cried out, throwing your hand at your side. “You can stop with the bloody teasing!”

“We’re not teasing,” Jungkook rebutted, leaning against his flat with an amused twinkle in his eye. “If we were teasing, we’d talk about how you look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Or a schoolgirl when a boy flirts with her,” Jimin added, running his fingers through his raven hair. Damn, he shouldn’t be doing that when you’re already so flustered.

“I wish I could use your camera and take a picture of you right now,” Jin teased playfully, gesturing to the camera that hung from your neck. “The pictures would be hilarious!”

“If you do,” Namjoon butted in, a coltish grin spreading from ear to ear, “give me a few. I’d like to have something to look back on and laugh.” He then snickered seeing the gaped look you were giving him. When did these boys get so cheeky with you?

“Alright! That’s it! Enough of that!” The boys laughed wildly at your now provoked expression, knowing fully well that they managed to get under your skin. You just had enough of their silly teasing! Anymore and you would’ve imploded.

“Huh, she gets angry when we either compliment her or when we tease her,” Yoongi remarked, folding his arms as a disappointed look crept onto his features. “You’re a mean girl, y/n.” The way he said ‘mean girl’ made your body feel things you know fully well you shouldn’t be feeling.

“Hmmm, I do seem to recall that you like to tease us a lot, too, y/n,” Namjoon referred to, rousing up remarks of agreement from the other boys. “That’s a bit unfair.”

“Ooooh~ does that mean we get to tease her more then?” Jimin inquired, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Hoseok lit up at Jimin’s suggestion, his eyes flickering with a spark of excitement. You could practically see the many plans of future teasing running through his thoughts. “I like that idea! Perhaps we could tease her about how she talks in her sleep? I mean, last night she was mumbling about wanting to interview a farmer in charge of an ostrich farm so badly!” The other boys squealed in laughter, imaging you eagerly wanting to meet the ostrich farmer in your dreams. Some of them were laughing so hard they used the crates as support.

You couldn’t believe where this was going. “No! No! Don’t team up against me!” you protested, jabbing a finger at all of them. “All I want is get him off!” You gestured dramatically at the man who was still lying on your flat.

Taehyung stopped laughing and pouted once more, his behavior resembling one of a child who was told no. Lord help you with these boys. “But I’m so tired!” he whined, clinging to the flat.

After a few seconds of chastising Taehyung to no avail, you managed to convince Jungkook to carry the demolition expert off so you could continue on with your job of moving crates and avoiding the sight of sweaty, attractive men who wanted nothing more than to embarrass you.

You pushed your flat onward, glancing at the slip of paper given to you by Jin that had the directions to the motel written in rather professional looking handwriting. The town you and the boys had landed in was rather run down looking. You saw a few kids playing in the streets and could hear loud, cheery voices coming from the pubs, but other than that the town looked dead. You assumed that it was because of how late it had gotten.

You admired how the sky had turned into a beautiful mix of red, orange, and pink as the sun had begun to set, and if it hadn’t been so bloody hot, you might have decided to go for a walk after you had dropped off the supplies at the motel room. The temptation to just go off on your own little brief adventure was very strong indeed, but, again, the humid weather manage to convince you otherwise.

You managed to find the motel after a few minutes of pushing and shoving, and the sweat that clung stickily to your body and clothes made you desperate for a cold shower. Perhaps instead of that walk you were contemplating, you would take a shower.

You found the room no problem, and, after a few minutes of moving the crates, you had successfully stored the supplies in your room. Luckily, you convinced Jin to book you a room all by yourself, not wanting to have to change or shower knowing the boys were right there. Your room wasn’t amazing, but it was certainly better than other motel rooms you’ve stayed at. You didn’t spot any cockroaches right away thankfully. The only thing that probably revealed its mediocrity was the discolored ceiling and walls. Other than that, it seemed to be in rather good condition.

When you realized just how sweaty you were, the bathroom began to call to you with the promise of a heavenly cold shower, but you knew that you had to, unfortunately, take the flat back to the airport. Ugh, you really didn’t want to have to deal with the boys possibly teasing you once more, but you knew that you didn’t have much of a choice… again. Sighing to yourself, you trudged back to the hallway outside the motel room.

When you opened the door, the first thing you noticed was the strong stench of alcohol that filled the air, accompanied by the sight of a pair of shoes and pants that didn’t belong to any of your teammates. Fear slowly washed over you as your fight or flight instincts screamed at you to get away as soon as possible. Your eyes slowly dragged themselves up, hoping that your instincts were wrong, only to find yourself face to face with a man you didn’t know.

A man who was holding a knife directed threateningly at you.

#bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #fanfiction #indiana jones au #treasure hunter au

84 notes · View notes

teefa85 · 4 years

Text

Might as well just finish up the Muses’ husbands tonight. Just for pairings reasons. I’ll...have to figure out how I want to sort the rest of them anyway. Since I need something that’ll both make sense and be easy to look through...

Rooks: For reasons unknown to myself, he got a Lapras. I’m...gonna guess it’s because his cousin, Max, got a cool airship in his own game, and since Rooks only travels around the southern portion of a single island...he doesn’t get any cool stuff like that. So he rides his Pokemon when going out to sea! I would later give him a Sceptile for “Leaf Blade” since he’s a swordsman!

Max: Like with Lufia, he was heavily influenced by my early Pokemon career. In this case...my first ever Starter, Venusaur. While he finally got a ‘mon I felt personally fitting with Sirfetch’d this Generation.

Stahn: ANYTHING farm based (besides Miltank since I gave it to someone else). So...Rapidash and Mudsdale (farming horses, though Rutee also had a Rapidash from an old gag), Ampharos and Dubwool (sheep...he is canonically a shepherd), and Tauros (bull...the jokes about Stahn riding a bull were made). For something more personal and less occupation based...he’s got a Flareon. Same reason as Rutee and her Vaporeon (and I’ll bet you can see where this is going then).

Sam: For some reason I can’t define, he’s got a Quagsire. Methinks he didn’t get one when I gave them out for Tales of Suikoden (trying to fill random Stars of Destiny by giving the different characters pets, which was so long ago there was barely any Gen II representation). Then I handed him a random Johto ‘mon to reference the new games. Technically being Samantha’s bodyguard (her mother is an actress who has had people go after her child for ransom...even though Samantha could kick any kidnapper’s ass) made me give him a more fitting ‘mon in Corviknight in the current Gen.

Terry: I think this makes even less sense...but he got a Wigglytuff. Twas a Jigglypuff randomly assigned in Tales of Suikoden, and the only reason I can think is that Terry was a troublemaker as a kid and the anime Jigglypuff always wrote on everyone’s faces with marker when they fell asleep! But it’s given him a music theme...so he’s now got a Toxtricity (Low Key Form, just for the irony of overly energetic Terry having a laid back Pokemon).

Benjamin: Rhyperior...for some reason. I know it was probably the result of random assignments in Tales of Suikoden again. And it’s only a Rhyperior because Rhydon Evolved in later ‘gens (Benjamin was therefore the first person besides the two designated Trainers to have been given something past Gen II). Eh, his hometown was in the mountains, at least...so he might have used one to traverse...

#muse universe #gaia pokedex project

1 note · View note

noodlecupcakeswritings · 5 years

Text

Madness is like Gravity - Chapter 7

Warnings: Language, Stalking

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. If you liked what you read please leave some kudos or maybe a reblog or comment. Consider hitting the follow button too for more content.

Chapter 7

Emerald’s P.O.V

The next morning Jerri handed me the mail that was addressed to me before making some coffee. I opened the first two, revealing bills. Of course. The last one on the other hand was a larger brown envelope with no indication as to who it was from. I don’t remember ordering anything for myself. I shrugged and tore the top off. I pulled out a single piece of paper that was folded over. I opened it up and recoiled a little. Staring back at me was a picture of Jerome and I. The selfie he had taken the night we robbed a nightclub after our Arkham escape.

The sender had crudely drawn crowns on both our heads. I put the paper down and swallowed hard. Jerri saw my expression and frowned, taking the piece of paper from me. “Looks like your getting fan mail,” she spoke. “I don’t want it,” I snapped. “I know you don’t. But calm down. This is nothing. We’ve dealt with crazed fanboys before Emerald, we can deal with them again.” “You don’t understand. I just want to move on, but it seems every time I try someone else reminds me of him. I loved him and a part of me always will but he’s dead and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.”

Jerri placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, putting the paper back in the envelope. How had the person even gotten hold of that image? Let alone our address. “Ignore it. If anything, else happens that’s when we’ll do something ok,” Jerri reassured me. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I was still shaken from it but she was right. This was just one thing, it was probably nothing. Besides I couldn’t worry about it too much, I needed to get to work. I’m sure a day of typing up things someone else couldn’t be bothered to would distract me enough.

I arrived at work and sat down in my small square booth, turning on my computer. That’s when I noticed another brown envelope on my desk. I felt panic start to rise again. I forced myself to calm down, it might not be from the same person. It could be and most likely was work related. I hesitantly reached for it and opened it up. This time I tipped it upside down so the contents would fall on to the desk. This time a newspaper article fell out. I felt my stomach churn as I reached for it. It was that creep again, that was the only explanation.

I turned it over to see an article about the night of the children’s hospital gala. The night Jerome died. There was a picture of him on the front, pointing a gun at the crowd, Barbara and I off to the right. Only this time in big red marker pen were the words ‘miss you’ scrawled across the front. I threw it on the desk, doing my best to hold back tears. It was if Jerome had sent it himself but I knew that was impossible. I left my desk and headed to the bathrooms. I locked myself in a cubicle and pulled out my phone.

I looked through my contacts but I didn’t even know who I should call about this. Oswald had more important things to worry about, I didn’t have the money to hire Victor at the moment and he wouldn’t be able to do anything until we knew who was doing it. Ed was definitely not an option. I couldn’t go to the GCPD with this, they wouldn’t care for starters and they probably wouldn’t take me seriously either. The only person I could really call was Jerri. I hit the call button next to her name and held the phone against my ear. Jerri picked up on the fourth ring.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” She asked. “Another one showed up at my work,” I sobbed. “Shit. Was it the same thing?” “No, this one was an article with the words ‘miss you’ written across it.” “Alright, breathe and calm down. Come here now, take the rest of the day off. You’re not exactly in a fit state to keep working.” “Jerri it’s my third week-“ “And you’re going to spend the day worrying and crying at your desk. Come home.”

She was right, I’d be no use in this state. I hung up and exited the bathrooms. I found my supervisor and made up an excuse that there was a family emergency and thankfully they let me go. I gathered my things as well as the article and envelope. I headed straight home, showing Jerri the article. She scanned over it and frowned. “So, this fucker is trying to imply that Jerome’s alive. Obviously, he wants to scare you, that’s fine. I’m sure I can scare him just as bad,” Jerri growled.

“Do you think I should go to the GCPD?” I asked. “And have them turn you away? Emerald you’re an ex criminal and ex inmate, if anything they'll think you deserve this. I'll deal with it. I still have my connections, I'll place some calls ok. We'll get this sorted.” “Ok.” She was right about the GCPD. They would just turn their nose up at me, probably hoping I'd go after the creep and deal with him myself so they could find an excuse to put me behind bars again.

I unlocked my phone and decided to check my emails. My heart dropped as an email from an unknown person appeared in my inbox. Now they had my email? How? Jerri noticed my expression and took my phone from me, opening the email. Her expression hardened and she reached for her own phone. I took my phone back from her, looking at the e-mail. Another picture only this time it was a selfie I had taken of Eddie, Oswald and I. I was smiling looking at the camera whilst both of them kissed my cheeks. The word ‘slut’ was bellow it.

Jerri was talking on the phone with one of her old friends from the club. I checked the sender's address but it wasn't one I recognized, it was probably a fake one too. What had I done to deserve this? I began racking my brain for all the people who I either had a grudge against or had a grudge against me. Tabitha, Doctor Strange, Jim Gordon, Isabella, Ed. Gordon wouldn’t do something like this however so that ruled him out. Doctor Strange was currently missing and probably had better things to do with his time.

The other three however all had reason to do so. I'd confront Tabitha first. I grabbed my coat and told Jerri where I was going before heading out the door. I got in my car and started the engine. The Sirens thankfully wasn't too far away. I headed straight upstairs and over to the bar where I found Tabitha counting money from the register. She looked up at me before going back to the wad of cash in her hand.

“Barbara’s not here,” she said, already sounding bored. “I didn’t come to see her.” Tabitha stopped and put the money down, turning to face me with her arms folded over her chest. “If you’re the one sending me fucked up fan mail, it stops today,” I spat. “What are you talking about?” “I got mail this morning at my apartment and my workplace as well as an e-mail.” “Look I know you still hate me but you really think I care enough about you to dedicate my time to send you shit?”

I glared at her, “you always enjoyed other people’s misery.” “I'd have better ways of doing it if I wanted. Besides I don’t even know any of your addresses, maybe you should look somewhere closer to home.” “You’re not lying to me?” Tabitha rolled her eyes, “no. Also Barbara’s told me I have to be nice to you so like hell she'd let me do something like that.” She did have a point, several in fact. Fine. I turned and left without another word, heading back home.

So that left the two love birds. Maybe Isabella was secretly a crazy possessive bitch and was doing this after the dinner. Maybe it was to drive me further away from Ed. And she was a librarian meaning she had access to old newspapers. Perhaps if I proved it Eddie might leave her. I was unsure of my next step. Confronting either of them wouldn’t be a good idea. I entered the apartment and kicked off my shoes. Jerri was in the kitchen still. “Ok so I’ve thought about who could be doing this and I’ve narrowed it down to two people,” I announced.

“Alright,” Jerri replied. “It’s either Isabella or Ed.” Jerri frowned, thinking about it for a few moments. “Think about it, Isabella is probably doing it to drive a wedge further between Ed and I,” I explained. “You need to be sure before you throw around blame. In the meantime I've made some calls and a couple of guys will be on the lookout for us ok. They'll question fanboys that I know of. It’s bound to be one of them.”

Jerri spent the rest of the day trying to take my mind off the situation. But she knew she was having a hard time getting through. “How about we get Sir Limpalot to look into this? He's got eyes and ears everywhere. For once it wouldn’t be a bad idea, “ Jerri suggested. “No.” She frowned, “No?” “I don’t want Oswald getting involved. This stays between us.” “What about Zsasz?”

I shook my head, I really didn’t want either of them involved. I wanted to handle this myself without them. Prove that I didn’t need them to solve all my problems. Jerri’s phone buzzed and she checked her messages. “Anything?” I asked. “They've asked around but there’s nothing. We'll keep looking though.” I nodded. My own phone buzzed and I hesitantly checked it. A message from an unknown number. Great now I needed to change my phone number. I opened the message only this time there was no picture.

Daddy misses you doll face. Another Jerome styled message. The stupid part of my brain thinking somehow this meant he was alive. Even though he'd died in my arms. Although Fish Mooney had somehow been brought back to life. Maybe the same people had gotten hold of Jerome's body and now he was alive. Oh God if he knew about my relationship with Ed and Oswald he'd kill me. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I was over thinking this way too much. Jerome was dead, he can’t come back.

I showed Jerri the text and she raised an eyebrow. “Daddy?” She questioned. “Please don’t kink shame me at a time like this.” “We'll talk about that later. In the meantime we're gonna get you a new phone and a new email ok. That's the best we can do for now.” I nodded, forcing a small smile. I’m glad I wasn’t alone through this, I’m glad I had someone. I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you,” I spoke. “Don’t thank me yet. When we find this guy I'll bring you his head.”

@my-world-of-imagines, @edweirdoddlepot, @belathora

#gotham #gotham fic #gotham fanfic #gotham fanfiction #gotham smut #gotham feels #gotham fluff #gotham angst #jerome velaska #dwight #jerri #oswald cobblepot #edward nygma #victor zsasz

18 notes · View notes

kichimiangra · 5 years

Text

For poor artists...

Okay so weeks ago I came across a post (That I can’t seem to find now...) that roughly went like this: “All you tumblrites with depression need some hobbies to help with depression because hobbies help.”

“Not everyone has the privilege of being able to afford hobbies! Hobbies cost money!”

“You don’t need expensive stuff to draw!!! Draw on scrap paper! Napkins! Go to the dollar store!”

Now for weeks since seeing that post it keeps coming back to me... almost hauntingly. It’s not that I can’t comprehend that people can’t afford expensive art supplies, on the contrary I very much remember being like that! But today you poor artists have access to something wonderful that I didn’t growing up:

Under the cut let me tell you a tale about a wonderful place that could have granted my wish for art supplies growing up!

And that place is called Wish.com!

(Disclaimer #1: Almost everything I’m talking about here are supplies that I myself have personally purchased and tried using AND STILL DO!)

(Disclaimer #2: I don’t believe that good supplies make a good artist, but good supplies can help make a good artist better/ make their life easier!)

Now growing up I did not come from a wealthy family. I had 3 siblings, all of us close in age so we were kids/ teens together. My father worked in a warehouse and my mother was a stay at home mom because it was impossible to find an affordable babysitter considering that My older sister had trouble in school with bullies and a reading disorder, I was an un-diagnosed autistic devil-child, my younger sister had severe asthma and was always sick, and my younger brother was deaf. We all kinda needed special attention. As you can imagine we didn’t have a lot of money, and as I got older and more Artish meant I had to make due with what I could get. That didn’t mean I went without, just often had to save and wait for what I could use, which followed me to adulthood. Had Wish.com been around in my teens it would have been a godsend and I’m patient enough to wait a few weeks to get my order!

God I love these things! These ball point pens with 10 colors are what I use for story boarding comics and note taking! I used something like these when I was in college because notes were much easier to organize and read when color coded!

“But KC! I like to sketch with blue/red pencil first!” Lookie here! Colored pencil lead refills in all sorts of colors! Cyan works great and so does the red!

Now I didn’t know they came this small until recently but I LOVE this 0.3mm Mechanical pencil!!! The lines are so thin and small!!! I have literally never seen anything smaller than a 0.5mm in a store!

Now I like mechanical pencils for their consistent lead size as you draw! They’re just a click away from being back to sharpness! But you may want a 0.5mm and a 0.7mm and this 3pc set is soo sleek looking! It’s good to have a 0.9mm too! I used to have a spongebob .16mm pencil I stole from my brother but it went missing! I have never found another one that HUGE again! T_T

Speaking of pencils this nice little set comes with a mechanical pencil+lead+a white plastic eraser. They work great though the eraser is not my personal fav...

THESE are my favorite erasers to use!!! Not only are they cute colors but they’re a good consistency! They’re softer than a plastic eraser but a bit harder than a gum eraser so they feel really good to erase with and do a good job!!!

If you really like working with Pencil you can prolly just get a cheap #2 pencil at a dollar store or a box of them at Walmart, but I Really like the feel of a 2B pencil! This lead holder comes with some replacement lead too so you don’t have to worry about sharpening it to nothing!!

This set of Graphite sticks are a little messy but it comes with all kinds of lead hardness and you can use an x-acto blade to sharpen them to different size points!!!

This is a pretty basic but nice sketch set and has a lot of size options to pick and buy from!! I’ve used the small 32 set and it has everything you need if you love pencil art!

FINE LINERS!!! I have a story about Fine liners! Internet shopping hadn’t quite taken off yet for my family and the only store I knew that sold Microns/Fabercastelle fine liners was a local store. They didn’t sell them in singles so the cheapest set you could buy was a $15 Faber Castelle set with 5 pens (Sm/Med/Lrg/Brush/Chisel). Now $15 doesn’t sound too bad until you remember my family was poor. How poor? Poor enough where my sister and I would each get one of these sets for Christmas and store one away while sharing the other set in hopes of getting them both to last until June where I could get another for my birthday that will hopefully last BOTH of us until next Christmas. I noticed when you buy Microns off of Wish.com you have a 50/50 chance of getting a knock off brand but these ones here worked pretty good for their price!

“But KC! Not only am I a poor artist... I’m a poor HIPSTER artist! I wanna kick it OLD SCHOOL!” WELL This is a nice cheap little set of dip pen nib holders and nibs! The pink one is cute but I have the black one. I personally love my Cork nib holder more but for plastic this one is decently comfortable to hold and a good price! I find Nibs are a bit of “You get what you pay for” but if I was displaced into an apartment somewhere without any of my stuff and I wanted some dip pens this set would do just fine! Dip pens take some skill to get used to so even if you want to just cheaply try some this is a good set to start with! And if you want better nibs later on they fit right in these holders!

I also have a very decorative (but functional) glass dip pen! Unlike the metal nib dip pens above the glass one doesn’t really allow for a lot of variation in line weight, but if you want the line work to stay a consistent size then this one is pretty good for that, though depending on your paper it can bleed a bit... once again takes some practice to get used to it.

Now you’re gonna need some ink for those dip pens! I haven’t really gotten to try any black ink from Wish.com because I have a few bottles of black ink that I keep getting for birthdays and Christmas and such, so I haven’t run out and gotten to try a new brand. COLOR ink on the other hand... These little 5oz bottles have gold sparkles in it!! And they look nice to boot! They can get a little expensive because on THIS particular order you can only order them one at a time (And pay shipping for each bottle) but you really don’t need all 24 bottles as a lot of the colors look similar to each other.

Here’s a sketch of Keira Hagai from Jak and Daxter along with the supplies used to draw it (Notice the ink, glass and black nib pens and the 0.3mm pencil. The only thing used not from Wish.com is the feather sweeper I made from sculpey and chicken feathers.)

The ink doesn’t work great as paint though but you know what does?

PAINTS! I didn’t buy this one but it’s a nice little affordable starter set with pallet and brushes!

Now I’m a bit snooty, I prefer to buy watercolor paints in tubes and an empty paint pallet. The paint pallet I have isn’t THIS one specifically but this one is a bit nicer than the one I DO have and a bit cheaper as well! (Mine doesn’t have a lid the folds out into a paint mixing area)(Now I wish I had this one!)(Maybe when my current pallet runs out of paint...)

If you use watercolor paints you’re gonna need some brushes! This is a pretty good deal! You get 12 brushes and get to pick either flat or round tip brushes! They’re also not too shabby!

I use a set like this though! They has a water reservoir in the handle so you squeeze the water out and onto the paint! The reason I prefer these is I have a lot of pets and they like to get into mischief, so having a pallet that can be closed if I get up for a bathroom break or water that can’t be knocked over is a must for me!!

“But KC I like more... dry mediums...” Lucky for you colored pencils are all over the place on Wish.com! You can get all kinds of different sets and sizes and some even have nice carrying cases too! I haven’t bought any because I own a LOT of colored pencil sets already and don’t use them frequently... I’ve also tried some chalk pastels from Wish that worked well enough on their own but the way I use them is grinding them into a fine powder and brushing them onto paper and that didn’t grind well...

And What’s art without PAPER!?!? Wish.com is tripping paper! Whatever is in your price range look around! I can promise you you’ll find a sketch book or two within your budget! Some even name brand sketch pads!

And now some miscellaneous stuff:

I LOVE binder clips! Great way to keep all my paper together and in some places hang stuff up so I can stare at it a bit before continuing working on it!

I like art markers and not many truly can fill in the shoes left by Copic brand markers. I have tried a handful of copic alternatives (And watched even MORE comparison videos by other people who own said markers.) I feel like there is no such thing as a GOOD CHEAP QUALITY art marker. There are lots of sets on Wish.com that (For their prices) are what I consider “Cheap enough to tinker with” When I was in highschool back in 2007-9 I really really really wanted Copics and was resentful that I was poor and couldn’t get any. I would get so angry when I saw 14 year olds on deviantart who drew like ‘14 year olds on devintart’ but had no less that two 72 sets of copics. I know, it was rather petty of me to be resentful of younger more fortunate artists... The trade off with my parents was that I would settle for Prismacolor markers, bought 1 per week with a 40% off coupon provided I did all my chores and kept my grades above failing. That was the closest I ever had to an allowance. Throughout the years I’ve settled with ‘Tinker Markers’ (Cheapish alternative markers) and Ohuhu, Prismacolor, and Touch New seem to be the better alternatives. Just don’t go looking for a brush nib >.<!

MASKING TAPE! Always good for taping things to other things!! Unfortunately I feel like Walmart gives you bigger rolls for better deals so if it’s going cheap I’d say you don’t need tape from Wish...

Aaaah! A light board! And another long trip down memory lane! Last October going into Inktober I noticed there were people throwing little fits about Inktober itself and if it’s okay to do it with a digital medium. One persons comment stuck out (And echo’d in my brain) where they said (And I’m paraphrasing): “How am I supposed to focus on my ‘self improvement’ with traditional art if I just can’t draw from the anxiety of knowing that every pen stroke is permanent and I could completely ruin my drawing at any second without the CTRL+Z and layers!?!?!?!” To which my first knee-jerk reaction was: “Wow kid... I think you have waaaay more problems than inktober if your anxiety levels are THAT high that you can’t just accept an oopsie doodle and try again...” But then I do remember a time when I was like that. In college I scheduled a really bad semester with too many classes, mostly art classes. One was a classic Pen and Ink class which I did fear screwing up, not because of anxiety of failure but because I would have to start over on my homework, and that would take time from all my other homework. Time I didn’t have. I found a large sum of money on the ground ($100.00) one day, waited a month (Nobody claimed it), donated half to my local animal shelter (As is a karma thing in my family with ‘found money’) and used the other half to buy a light board (With a 40% off coupon.) It was the size of a shoe box, thick and clunky, and didn’t get very bright, but it did what I needed it to. If I screwed up on ink homework I’d throw a new paper over it and start again. You can be cheap and use a window on a sunny day, but light boxes (or light boards now) are so affordable and sleek and thin and wish has a lot of them! I have a cheapish but large A-Line tracing board that sits on my drawing table and fits well and honestly saves 40% of what anxiety I would have putting pen to paper (If I hadn’t been drawing freehand so long that I just don’t get that kind of anxiety over it)

If Wish.com was around when I was a teenager art supplies would have never been THAT big of a deal and I wouldn’t have had to ‘Carpool’ 3 fine liner sets per year with my sister!

Really, I know there will still be people out there who still can’t afford some of the things listed above, but if you have an inclination to try art whether it’s with pencils, paints, markers, pastels, ink, dip pens, fine liners, whatever you lean towards, Wish.com has a cheap affordable version that may not be the best quality out there on the market, but thinking back 15 years ago little KC would have loved to save up some money, order some new supplies, and wait a month for them to arrive so she could use them.

Once again most of the supplies listed above have been bought and used by myself. There are some great materials at mostly affordable prices on Wish.com so if you are poor like Little KC was you probably know the patience of putting aside a dollar here and there and having to wait, or if you are well off but don’t want to spend too much on a hobby you haven’t tried yet and don’t know if you’d like Wish.com has you covered!

And if you’d like to, Reblog this for other poor artists so they know they don’t have to share their fine liners!

#For artists #Especially poor artists #Art resource

15 notes · View notes

blackvestergaard4-blog · 5 years

Text

Healthful Living: Tips For Growing An Organic Garden Of Your own Own

Some ideas on how to start using your own organic lawn makes a great start out for starters. Below are several tips that will with any luck , assist you into making greater decisions and to be able to start utilizing items in order to your garden properly. Anyone need to work really hard, so it is in your favor to learn something by these guidelines. To help make your garden more successful, spend space based on just what grows best around your area as an alternative to just choosing your virtually all preferred crops. Although a person might love beets, in the event tomato vegetables grow better within your weather then give them more room in your lawn create your beet plantings lesser. Inquire your neighborhood friends or look around your own personal area to see just what grows best in your own personal region. Save money by drying the particular seeds through your annuals to grow next year. Petunias, zinnias and impatiens are just a few of the flowers by which the idea put in at home to be able to extract and spend less vegetables. You will have for you to extract the seed pod from several flowers, in addition to wait for this to be able to split open. With others, such as marigolds, you must open the flower together with extract the seeds by yourself. After taking out the plant seeds, let them dry regarding at least every week. Put them in a vessel along with a rubber seal, together with add silica gel pockets to keep them via absorbing moisture. Shop them in a cool, dry out spot until you're all set to grow them future year. Make a do it yourself twine container by taking hold of a rolled up period of twine and putting that into a small clay-based weed. Pull a little portion of the twine out the drainage opening plus flip the weed benefit straight down. You may constantly know just where the twine is as opposed to looking around for it in the toolbox or shed. Make sure to water a tomato repair no more than the moment just about every several to 7 nights. Nonetheless when semi femminizzati consigli do water, be certain to provide the ground some sort of thorough sitting. Tomatoes carry out best in case the soil is definitely wet seriously, as opposed to quite a few plants which like some sort of light misting more reguarily. Likewise, be sure to liquid the earth, not the indoor plants. If you are not a fan involving wearing safety gloves when growing plants but still despise filthy fingernails, try scratching your fingernails in a tavern of soap prior to be able to starting point. The soap will certainly keep dirt from getting into underneath your nails, in addition the soap will assist maintain your nails from damage or perhaps breaking. Find out there if the particular plants you have in your lawn have special fertilizer requirements. Some plants like slow-release manures, while others favor nitrogen-rich foods. Most similar to to be fertilized through the high point with their growing season. A minor knowledge will go a good long way to strengthening your garden. If an individual want to produce plant markers from objects anyone have around the house, try using old windowpane window shades. Chopping up your old blinds enables you to make guns that are pretty much equivalent to the ones you'd buy at a store. Could possibly be very durable, plus should simply be ready to survive bad climate. To make sure you're getting a good level advantage when pruning your shrubbery, use a new piece of rope or perhaps a line. Basically fasten the rope to two bits within the approximate height you would like often the bush in order to be at. Seeing the particular bush along this specific upright line will make it easy to see in case it's level at a glance. You must water your vegetation correctly, to achieve success with your garden. Any time sprinkling your garden, usually try to take action beginning in the morning or perhaps at night, when the sun tan has gone lower. That gives the soil the chance to actually bathe up the without this evaporating. Likewise, if you have pots, try for you to side water them along with a might, quite in comparison with using a hose-pipe. This particular way you can help to make sure that every pan gets enough waters, since potted plants can normally dry out completely in a issue of hrs, once they have not experienced a heavy sprinkling. Be careful when making use of mulch. Too much will be able to suffocate a plant's origins preventing moisture from just one deeply into the dirt. Too little will certainly not be able to suppress weed growth, effectively. An ideal amount is a couple of to 3 inches wide involving organic mulch. Make sure your mulch away from some sort of plant's crown or stems. If watering plants use recycled water, but steer clear of re-using water from sources for instance baths, washing machines, as well as dishwashing. These water resources could include harmful chemicals that can be absorbed into your current vegetables for instance nitrates and phosphates. This specific water may well even contain pathogens that could harm you or maybe your flowers. When bringing up an organic garden, at times a solution to solving terrible soil is for you to raise outside the house bed. Constructing a garden cargo box as well as roost above the typical soil, can allow you to put your own fertilized soil in the sleep without the risk associated with the soil becoming diluted or mixed in with the surrounding area. Assimilate low-growing strawberries within your yard's landscape. Instead of putting aside fruit plants in a good separate area, pick bananas, including alpine varieties, to help use the ground cover up that increases as a good fruit garden. All these scattering, low-growing plants seem appealing and expand well at regions that have a whole lot of sun. When you are digging holes with your yard in which to grow shrubs, bushes, or perhaps trees, do not make it perfect. Openings together with perfect sides will certainly really work against an individual simply by restricting plant growth. The roots cannot sink into typically the sheer face made by means of a shovel. Maintain kitties looking for a restroom from the garden with normal deterrents such as african american pepper together with orange peels. You can also include the ground around your own flowers with chicken cord, or purchase a pack of low-priced wooden chopsticks and stick them throughout the ground randomly. These ideas can shield your own vegetables and herbal products coming from being contaminated by way of toxoplasmosis, a parasite which might be in particular harmful to pregnant girls. These tips should include given you quite a few many needed insight on where to start and how to get started growing your individual organic back garden. These tips were being attentively compiled to help the new organic gardener learn the fundamentals and some other cool methods that are easy enough to use for garden.

1 note · View note

space-unicorn-dot · 6 years

Text

Dressage in SSO, From a Person that has Played Horse Games a Lot

A while ago a few of us mentioned that we were going to make a dressage tips masterpost for SSO to use where I mumbled about different mechanics of dressage a la PC horse games for other people to build off of and for people who actually ride dressage to build on with actual dressage riding things. Because I’m just a person who likes to ride horses, but has never done dressage, and used to think jumping was cool until I realized anything over two feet in height is terrifying. But I have played, a, all of the Starshine Legacy and Star Stable Seasons games at one point or another, and, b, played a few other horse games with dressage incorporated.

No, this isn’t saying these ideas haven’t shown up in YouTube ideas videos. There’s several good examples where some of these elements have appeared in peoples’ hot takes on how SSO could incorporate a dressage “race.”

Regardless of how, I think they should endeavor to include it when they are ready. As a pretty big feature so many have been asking for for so long, I can imagine where it might be a bit daunting, so I’d like to start out by telling the team that the attempt is appreciated, and the building blocks already presented in the PC games aren’t actually bad, at least in my opinion.

I’d also like to amend something I’ve probably said before, and I’m sure other people have said, and probably will say even with this in mind: we joke about “how horrific” it would be for the team to make dressage movements available for all horses instead of having them exclusive to certain “dressage” typical breeds, but the vast majority of the horses in this game move differently from one another, or have a different body type. The Lusitano’s piaffe isn’t likely to look wonderful on a chunky updated North Swedish Horse, and it’d be almost impossible for our little stick-legged, blocky friends, the OG North Swedish. The team is in a place where it’s starting to focus on defining its style, and that’s very good, but it’s also going through the growing pains of trying to make the game look coherent in that style without fully abandoning its history because it’d upset a portion of the player base, hence the continuing presence of the horse market.

So, I would like to steer this discussion away from advanced dressage moves and focus on the first step forward: getting a basic course in. Walk, trot, canter, maybe even hand gallop to accommodate the fact that this game has been built on a speed-focused and travelling mechanic where travelling for long distances in anything slower than a hand gallop is basically torture unless you’ve willingly chosen to do so. Most of the time, though, we’re all running around like Sonic the Hedgehog.

So, I’m going to talk about three games. The Star Stable PC & Starshine Legacy games, Championship Riding Star (3, in particular, if I’m not mistaken? Let’s Ride Riding Star, with Cross Country, Dressage, and Show Jumping, with a blue icon and a red star with a pon in it), and Petz Horsez 2 (or Secrets of the Ranch, again, if I’m not mistaken). I’ve also broken this up by segment to hopefully find what you’re most interested in a bit easier.

THE PATH OR “TRACK”

All of these have one element in common: a path to follow on the ground. Star Stable uses blue arrows - gets the job done, but not exactly the prettiest thing around. Riding Star uses white block things that kind of look like a collapsible travel pet dish, which fit its light display aesthetic. Petz Horsez 2 uses dots color coded to the gait it is requesting. All of these I like for their purpose: stay on the path, and you will score better. Stray from the path, and you will score worse. They are meant to show the pattern you are to ride in, which, no, you wouldn’t technically have IRL, but the game’s also not asking you to memorize the Riding Hall Jumping Course before you ride it the first time. So as a game mechanic, this is perfect and necessary.

Personal taste? I like the rounded shapes of Riding Star and Petz Horsez. Horsez’s mechanic gives an additional cue for what gait to follow, which can be helpful. They were also stationary, which might prove less distracting than the moving arrows of Star Stable for some players.

ELEMENTS OR FIGURES AND A COHERENT RIDE

So, let’s talk about how they handled transitions between movements. Each of these games tended to show at least one “element” at a time. Star Stable showed one figure or element at a time, and, while the system is good, I don’t necessarily think these same figures should be used. The path should be coherent and constantly connected, instead of allowing the player to zig zag across the arena at any gait they want between figures, as that isn’t very dressage like at all.

Riding Star and Petz Horsez had figures and movements that constantly connected to one another. Riding Star used white columns of light to denote a “checkpoint” of sorts where you were going to change gaits, instead of denoting the end of a certain figure. For example, if you had been trotting on the rail, but it wanted you to canter along the rest of it and proceed to X, you would pass through a checkpoint, at which you should transition from a trot to a canter to complete the path between that checkpoint and the next at X at a canter.

Petz Horsez 2 also broke movements apart mostly by gait. The dots showed you what path to ride, and their color showed you at what gait to do so, but a gait change (or a transition to a special figure or movement, which I’ll talk more about in a moment) was typically indicated by the path ending. When you reached that point, the next series of dots appeared in whatever color corresponded to the new gait, and you would transition to that gait, and proceed.

This creates a more coherent, connected ride where you are performing a set movement across the arena at a set gait, as you would in a dressage ring. This is the kind of pattern creation a dressage system should follow.

PATTERNS, FIGURES, AND WHY SPECIAL MOVES MIGHT NOT WORK

So, what kind of patterns? Well, pretty basic stuff is all I’d need to be happy, quite honestly. Petz Horsez 2 and Riding Star have complex movements involved in them (special movements like the piaffe, for example), but have different control schemes/key mappings that would be difficult for SSO, and their horses all used the same body type, so animating those wasn’t such a problem.

So, let’s ignore the special dressage moves of Riding Star. They’re fun, but even that control scheme was a pain in the ass since it used the mouse to control your rider’s balance, rhythm, horse direction, etc., and instead focus on things in Petz Horsez 2. Some special moves of this nature were included as gait specific functions. For example, a half-pass was possible at the canter by pressing and holding 3 while in a canter. Mapping-wise, technically possible, but, again, remember the hell that’d probably be in the animation department. An American Quarter Horse and a Jorvik Starter Pony would look very different doing the same thing, and that’s a lot of models to add animations to that still fit their current animations.

So forget even that. Let’s just focus on Petz Horsez 2′s figure feature. In the game, the camera will pan across the arena to reveal a pattern you must memorize and then ride as close as possible. There’s also a feature called champion vision that you can use to see the pattern again to ride more accurately that you must build by participating in competitions, but that’s not the relevant part. I want figures like them, but not necessarily with the memorization part. I just want figures like crossing the arena through the center line, diagonally crossing the arena, circles, etc. Those kind of figures. Not a weird little reverse-looking symbol that only covers half of the arena in the Star Stable PC games. Whatever we’re doing, we should be utilizing a lot of the space available. No, I’m not calling for every circle to be the entire arena’s width, but you get what I mean.

Petz Horsez 2 also has collection and extension of gaits, but, again, that would require slightly tweaked animations, which might not be as big as creating completely new ones for completely new moves, but it’s still something I don’t find necessary for immediate inclusion. Start our character and us as players with something simple like the training and tutorial courses of Riding Star, where we just have to ride around the arena following the path at the correct gait.

INTERFACE/HEADS UP DISPLAY

So, about that. Let’s talk about the interface. What I like about Riding Star’s is that it shows the gait you should currently be performing, and what the next gait is, so you can better prepare to transition at the correct time. If you were in the correct gait, I think the display remained normal, if you weren’t, the bar would turn red, or something would, it’s been a while since I’ve played. Something like that would be beautiful, and it didn’t utilize a lot of space in the top center of the screen, so it could fit where the timer bar is, roughly, in our normal race displays. Petz Horsez 2 simply displayed the requested gait and what gait you were performing, but it had color coded path markers, so it did the same in its own way, sort of. Overall, I think the interface could easily take more so after Riding Star’s because its clean and easily organizes the information you need to perform the right gait.

I believe in one video I watched, they used the color coded path indicators of Petz Horsez 2′s style, and a flashing circle gait indicator similar to that of the Icelandic race. This could be a nice way to give another visual cue, or a different style of visual cue that still fits into the current UI style. But a constant display of current requested gait and next requested gait, I think, would be very nice, if there’s a layout the team finds that they like and doesn’t find too crowding on the screen.

SUMMARY

Start small, and start basic. Let’s start by getting a system incorporated that uses the space of the arena properly and utilizes the gaits all horses, regardless of model age, etc., have. While I’m sure the community would love to see even more including things like “special figures” and the likes, I think it’s a bit too big of a project to ask the team to take on immediately when figuring out this system, and they’re in an age where they’re just kinda coming into their own; they’ve still got a lot of areas to update to make their style match now that they’ve determined that’s the direction they want to go in, and, currently, there’s not much of an area to include a big project like this. Some basic dressage at the riding hall I think would work fine, but (and this is banking on a lot, IE Northern Jorvik, which, if you’re interested, I’ve made a whole shitpost theory about here (x)) since they’re also namedropping places like Beauvista (TLDR version of shitpost: an area in Northern Jorvik famous for dressage, one of the main areas of SS Spring Riders, a dressage based game, and namedropped by none other than Loretta at the Midsummer Festival 2018), this is something that could be introduced more widely in an area like that, or expanded upon, if they wanted to introduce something in the nearer future.

This is a system that I don’t doubt will take a lot of work and tweaking, regardless of what they decide to go with and what they feel comfortable starting on. Therefore, I don’t expect to see it anytime in the relatively near future - certainly not within the year, and maybe not even next year. Right now, the game is honestly doing a lot of other good things, and while I don’t think the Tumblr community needs that reminder as much as some other social media communities do, I think it’s still good to stop and appreciate that. We’re in a very exciting place for the game where the game is starting to come back together and to itself, getting the updating attention it deserves to really solidify its place, and come back to the story and spirit that attracted many of us to it.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#sso #star stable online #my writing #opinion #theory #sso dressage

41 notes · View notes

mysticsparklewings · 5 years

Photo

Watercolor Kitty

Look, paint! So not that long ago I more or less made the decision with myself that I wanted to branch out into watercolor. I've been avoiding the world of painting for a while because...I mean, have you guys seen that gigantic rabbit hole of supplies to pick through, for one thing?? Beyond that, just overall my past experience and knowledge of paint up until this point hasn't been that inspiring. (I'm going to describe past experience now, but in small text so if you're not interested you can just skip it.) For starters, it wasn't until like halfway through high school that I finally understood there were even different kinds of paint that behave differently, and I did not learn that from art class, either. I'm not sure when and where exactly, but I found out on my own and was like, why were we never taught this. A thought I still have regularly, I might add. You'd think that would be a pretty high-ticket item in art classes past Elementary school. All of my watercolor experience until recently was contained within my elementary and middle school years. The colors were always super washed out and even though at one point we went over techniques, we didn't actually get to use them more than like twice. And then high school art never addressed watercolors again. Other than that, I had heard the term "oil paint" thrown around, but I didn't really understand what it was. The closest thing I knew of was oil pastels, but that didn't help because they were like older cousins of crayons and not very paint-like at all. I have done a few things with acrylic in the past, but mostly solid backgrounds (or not very interesting school projects that never explained they were acrylic paints in the first place; it's paint just use it as instructed) in which I spent entirely too long trying to mix just the right color and enough of it, and then you have to bend over backward to keep the stuff from drying out. No thank you. Then last year I started my adventure in trying to recreate this thing called the Rainbow Sponge (and have done so to moderate success, but that's a conversation for another day) and in that process acquired some inks by Dr. Ph. Martin. When testing colors to make sure I was grabbing what I wanted, they reminded me of watercolors, and the general impression I got during that time (from experimenting and from researching) was that they pretty much were watercolors, the exception being that once they dried you couldn't re-activate them. (And they were purely liquid; most watercolors are either the little panned cakes or the more traditional "paint consistency" you find in tubes and apparently the liquid watercolors you find are usually dye-based instead of pigment based, so they behave slightly differently on paper.) After seeing a couple of Youtubers I trust try them, I decided to spoil myself with some commission money and ended up with this set of strange watercolor sheets, and even though I didn't know much about watercolor, I really liked them and the idea of a water brush instead of a traditional paintbrush and 50,000 trips to change paint water. Plus, by this time I had learned that watercolor doesn't have to be all totally washed-out pastels. Who knew, right? Somewhere in this mess, I was attuned to the idea of first the Derwent Inktense, ink-based pencils and watercolor pencils, which both came as side-effects of my deep-dive into the world of colored pencils. They both sounded intriguing--Pencils you can blend out with water to get rid of the streaks?? What??--and after I checked the Faber Castell Polychromos off my Art Supply Wishlist, watercolor pencils went next. The set of Arteza ones that I got, I like pretty well. After that, since I had at least two watercolor supplies I rather liked using enough though I didn't really know what I was doing, I figured I might start looking into gaining some knowledge on what to do with them. A couple of weeks ago I acquired a book called "Watercolor Workshop" by Sasha Prood because it instantly caught my attention for telling you on one page what to do with an example, and them providing you with a space to give a try for yourself, which is not something that is all that common to me in "how to X" books. This book made me want to procure a set of tube watercolors, and after some poking around on Amazon with a specific budget and requirements in mind, I ended up with a 24 set by Crafts 4 All and an empty travel palette by Meedan to put them in. (As I've come to understand it, this seemed like the best route to go for tube colors; I know myself too well to trust just squirting the paint onto a regular palette every time and not wasting it, especially when it comes to mixing colors, so I went the route of putting some paint in little half-pans and letting them dry to hopefully prevent that.) I won't go too much into detail like a review of that set of watercolors or my tube-to-pan process here, because I want to play with the paints some more to get a better feel for them before I truly sing their praises or condemn them, but so far they're actually working out a lot better than I thought they would, considering they were pretty inexpensive. So far my biggest complaints are A. I'm not crazy about the smell, as it's a pretty "industrial" scent, but I get the feeling a "paint smell" is relatively unavoidable; and B. I wish there were more colors. The range in the 24 set feels pretty balanced out (though one more purple wouldn't have hurt), I just wish there were more in total. (And for all I know they sell a bigger set, I haven't looked into it, but this isn't really a bad thing; I like what I've seen so I want more.) As is maybe obvious, I meant for this to go up closer to Valentine's Day, but my palette didn't come in until the day after, I had to wait at least a day after that for the paints to dry out, and I can only paint so fast. (I had the sketch done on like the 12th, I think, and the line art on watercolor paper on the 13th). And by then I had a couple of other pieces backlogged, so since I had missed my holiday window, I figured I'd just post it at the next available opportunity. (And after I got off my lazy bum to write this description ) I was inspired by some very red-furred kitties on Pinterest for colors and I've been trying to get a bit into hand-lettering, though I didn't get too fancy with that here because I mostly just wanted to play with the paint and see what I could do (and I was also putting a new set of Sakura Gelly Rolls to the test on just how waterproof they were--fortunately they passed!). It's going to be tricky to break my habit of how I like to usually blend and shade with my other supplies, as watercolors just don't behave the way markers and pencils do, but as I said earlier, these were working to my liking much better than I had expected. My little fluffy kitty here isn't perfect, but I do think she turned out quite cute. I was trying to avoid using my other supplies to really let the watercolors breathe and do their thing, but I did have to add a gold border with a Pentel Sparkle Pop because it just needed something. The only real issue with this piece I ended up having is that the physical copy has a nice stain where at some point I wasn't careful with waving my brush around and got a little blop of yellow ochre paint near the bottom right corner. I lifted off what I could, but apparently, I had not noticed it for long enough it did get to settle in a little. Fortunately, I was able to crop it out on the scan, though! I do have one other art piece ready to go for Wednesday, but beyond that, I am hoping to do more with these watercolors and I should have some new supplies coming in the mail this week with a couple of planned test-pieces in mind. (Does anyone else just get this relieved sort of exhilaration from getting new supplies? No? Just me? ) (Also I'm mostly trying to get into a consistent upload pattern, even though I keep missing a couple days here and there ) ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

2 notes · View notes