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mcwriting · 4 years

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Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!

In which the reader is the musical guest at Saturday Night Live the same week Tom Holland is hosting.

Ship: Reader x Tom Holland

Word Count: 5747 (what in the heck?? my longest piece ever lol)

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Rating: K

Preface: I mention the NBC page program, which is like an intense internship/fellowship with the company where college grads work with at least 3 parts of the company over a year to get job exposure. A lot of famous actors and actresses were pages!

***

Walking into 30 Rockefeller Center on Wednesday afternoon was a surreal experience for sure. As a young NBC page led you through hallways and up to studio 8H, you were getting butterflies.

On one side of the hall was a sign for studio 8G, which hosted Late Night with Seth Meyers, but the page turned the other way, guiding you through doors to the Saturday Night Live studio.

There was hustle and bustle all around you as she took you to your green room, which had a sign printed with your name on it over an NYC skyline. You almost pinched yourself.

You had known for about a month that you’d be performing as the musical guest for SNL the upcoming weekend, but now that you were here for your first rehearsal, things were getting real.

When your manager had asked if you wanted to play the show, she’d been met by your enthusiastic “YES! Are you kidding me?!” It was even better when she mentioned who the host would be:

Tom Holland.

You’d watched every season of SNL since you were probably in middle school. You could easily name off every cast member but would have to remember to keep your cool until after Saturday.

Another thing you’d need to stay cool about was Spiderman himself. You had the biggest crush on him, but who your age didn’t? He was charming and British, disregarding physical features. You were most nervous to meet him.

The page let you put your things down and took you to Lorne Michael’s office where he and some of the production team wanted to talk to you about your set. You’d only get two songs, but one of the writers also asked if you’d want to be in a couple sketches, too.

Later that evening would be the normal pitch meeting, where writers who’d spent all Tuesday afternoon and night into the early hours of Wednesday writing finally got to show the host and cast their ideas. They’d narrow it down to eight, so you were surprised they wanted you in not one, but two sketches.

It wasn’t difficult to say yes to that. You wouldn’t be present for the pitch meeting, however, because in just a few short hours you’d be heading down to studio 6B to film a segment for Jimmy Fallon’s show.

Your management team stayed behind at the hotel to work on details for a couple concerts you had and were planning to head up to the studio before your interview.

After the meeting, you were shown around to familiarize yourself with the studio and stage before starting your first rehearsal. For one song, it would be just you and a piano, but the other song would have a band playing while you sang and did some limited choreography.

You sat in front of the keys of a beautiful grand piano, stretching your fingers. Someone requested you play one of your songs, so you looked around, as if asking for permission. Everyone in the room nodded for you to play, so you began the tune of your favorite song from your album.

Your voice wasn’t warm and there wasn’t a mic on you, but you got lost in the lyrics and chords like you always did. By the song’s end, you’d drawn a small crowd. They clapped and you blushed when you finished, closing the lid and standing to do a sheepish curtsy.

Most of the small crowd dissipated and you were talking to some crew about stage setup when someone interrupted you.

“Sorry to bother, but that was incredible. Can’t wait to hear how good you’ll be this weekend,” said a male voice with a distinct London accent. You turned to find Tom Holland right in front of you.

“Oh, well, thank you! I- I uh, didn’t expect to meet you so soon,” you stuttered, thrusting out a hand. “Y/n y/l/n.”

He gripped your hand firmly and shook it, nodding his head once, too.

“Tom Holland. You know I was excited when I heard you’d be performing the same week I host. The last film I did, we listened to your music like, all the time. You could say I’m a fan.”

Was this real? Tom Holland was a fan of you!? You chuckled.

“I could definitely say the same for you. I love your movies. ‘Been a fan for years.”

You both smiled happily and Tom was about to respond when the page who’d been showing you around the whole time came up.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Miss y/l/n, they’ve asked to get your measurements in costuming if that’s okay.”

“Oh! Yes of course!” you said to her, then turned to Tom. “Sorry. It was nice meeting you! See you around?”

“Of course! Nice meeting you also!”

As the young girl led you away again, you missed where a younger brother of Tom said to him,

“Think you’re in love yet?”

***

After an eventful visit at the Tonight Show that included you and Jimmy playing box of lies and performing one of your songs for the audience, you headed back up to 8H alone.

You’d remembered leaving something in your dressing room and had let your team go on back to the hotel without you. You’d felt confident that you could sneak back to your hotel safely without causing a big ruckus. It was only a few blocks away.

You were digging in your bag for your phone when you bumped into someone. Each of you said a quick “oh, sorry!” before looking to see who the other was.

It was Tom again.

You hadn’t realized before, but his room was the one right next to yours. It made sense, both of you being guests and all, but you were still caught off guard.

“Headed out?” he asked. You felt yourself blushing a little.

“Yeah, well. I just finished at Fallon’s and they don’t need me back here until tomorrow so I’m heading back to my hotel to order pizza for my whole team and then crash,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah? That sounds about like what we’re doing,” Tom gestured back to his brother and best friend, who you shook hands with gladly.

You talked as you wound through the halls and quickly realized you were all staying at the same place.

“That’s crazy! We were just going to get a cab if you want to just come with us. I’m already paying for it, so...” he offered. You were surprised.

“What? No, no, I couldn’t just ride on your coattails like that,” you started.

“No seriously, y/n. It’s fine! We’re literally all going to the same place and no one can bother us from a taxi cab. You don’t even have to talk to us if you don’t want to.”

You looked at the other two boys questioningly and they nodded, encouragingly nodding for you to accept the offer.

“Okay, okay! If all of you are fine with it, I’ll come.”

They cheered and you continued in happy conversation as you headed downstairs. A doorman called a cab for you and you piled in. Harry took the front and you offered to take the middle, sandwiched between Harrison and Tom.

Never in a million years had you expected to be in such close proximity to one, much less all, of them. It was a short drive and the driver took you to a back entrance, the place celebrities usually entered.

You still weren’t quite used to the star life. Up until you’d hit it big, it was normal for you to do pretty much everything yourself and stay in relatively cheap hotels like any other person.

Now, your management team handled most things and you were staying in five star places with secret celebrity entrances and prices that would probably make your grandmother faint.

Inside, you’d also realized you were on the same floor, both of you staying in large suites used by many elites over the years. You parted ways, anticipating seeing each other in the morning for rehearsals and later that evening when you’d be doing Seth Meyers’ show together.

***

The studio was buzzing when you entered Thursday morning. Your small team headed straight for the dressing room as you were taken away to a sketch read. Both sketches the writers had asked you about had been greenlit, so you were excited to work on them

“Morning, y/n. How was the pizza?” Tom asked cheekily when you first walked in. A couple of people passing by gave strange looks but said nothing.

“Well, who doesn’t love a good New York slice, huh? I’d say it was pretty darn good. And you?”

“We ended up getting room service, but pizza’s definitely next on my list,” he joked before you were handed scripts and asked to review them. The writers and cast were trying to figure out some basic spacing as you looked over your lines and cues.

You finally got to work rehearsing the two sketches. You broke a couple times when Kate landed a punchline and when Beck accidentally tripped.

When they decided to move on from those, you where whisked away to wardrobe and makeup to shoot "bumper” stills and videos, the photos and clips between sketches and commercial breaks.

You were excited to see how they envisioned your style and personality and would bring it to life. The photographer collaborated with you and shot some really incredible photos, both serious and goofy.

Next you were back in music rehearsals figuring out more about the staging and running some diagnostic sound checks. Once lunchtime came around, your stomach was growling.

You just barely caught Tom as you went for lunch, he was finishing up as you built your plate. As it always seemed, you only got a few words in with each other before someone was dragging Tom off for his own photoshoot.

You got to talk to Harry and Harrison for a little bit, too, until your manager asked to have a quick meeting about your schedule. Once you were free, you were taken to costuming to try a few things on and figure out hair styles that would fit the show.

There were more music rehearsals and you read the new scripts (as they had already been rewritten twice now). You were pretty tired by the time someone asked you to head across the hall to prepare for Late Night.

You grabbed a quick bite to eat on your way out of 8H and finished is by the time you were in the doors of 8G and a page led you to your green room, once again located next to Tom’s.

Since you were both doing SNL together, you and Tom were going to be interviewed together, but you also had the added bonus of being the musical guest again.

You only needed to rehearse a couple times to get the sound down (it’s not like it’s live, so you could easily restart if something went wrong). Once you were finished, they brought in the studio audience and you got a chance to go back to your green room and chill for a little while.

Seth had a couple other guests, so while you were waiting, you knocked on Tom’s door to greet him and discuss the talking points each of your management had given Seth.

As the in-house band was warming up, Seth came into the room.

“Well I didn’t expect to see both of you in here,” he joked, shaking both of you hands. Tom had been on the show before, but this was your first time meeting the host.

After a couple minutes, Seth was informed of the time and made his leave, going out to meet his audience and begin taping. After his monologue and the first guest, you and Tom were called to the stage.

“Now for our nexts guests we have both the host and musical guest of this weekend’s Saturday Night Live, Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Come on out here!”

Tom gestured for you to go ahead of him, so you walked out, waving to the cheering crowd. You took the seat nearest to Seth’s desk.

“Well hello, there. Good to see you two,” he greeted as you settled in. “Welcome back, Tom, and welcome for the first time, y/n.”

“Wait this is your first time here?” Tom asked incredulously. You laughed.

“Yeah! Up until a few months ago like, no one knew who I was. Not even Seth!” you poked right back. Seth jokingly agreed.

The interview went well, both of you telling some funny stories and explaining how the week was going. Finally, you cut for a commercial.

“Alright we’ll return with y/n and Tom after this short break!”

You were right back to the interview after the commercial “break.” Towards the end of it, you all got off on the subject of alcohol.

“You are 21, right?” Tom asked you. You rolled your eyes and gave an exaggerated hair flip.

“Yes, I am of the legal age. You should know as well as anyone what it’s like to have a baby face,” you roasted, causing the audience to go “ohh!” and Tom and Seth to raise their eyebrows.

“Wow looks like we’ve got a little rivalry now. The real question is who can handle their alcohol better. I think we oughta bring you two back for my day drinking segment to settle this!”

Both of you overconfidently pointed at yourselves when Seth asked who was better with alcohol.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind!” you exclaimed before the interview finally wrapped up and you got ready to go sing. Tom and Seth stayed at the desk while you performed, which thankfully only took one shot.

As you wrapped up the show, you gave final waves to the audience and then headed offstage. You and Tom walked through the halls together and Seth caught up with you after finishing his outro.

He thanked you both for being on the show, you took a few pictures, then talked for a while. Seth was eventually called away to look at something, so you said your goodbyes to him and continued towards the green rooms.

“You were great tonight. Your voice is phenomenal,” Tom said to you. “and honestly I can’t believe you haven’t been doing talkshows that long. You’re a natural.”

“I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I love to talk about myself,” you quipped. “But seriously, thank you. Everything leading up to now has happened so fast, it’s hard to really gauge if things are going well or not.”

“I can relate to that. It’s hard, but having my family and brothers helps keep me grounded, you know? Harrison, too. They know that they can call me out and, yeah, I might get mad at first, but I understand that they’re keeping me from getting a big head.”

“Yeah I can’t imagine how overnight it must have been for you. My family and friends definitely don’t miss the chance to poke a little fun here and there to keep my ego down, too. You know, it’s nice talking to someone who understands for once. I love them, but unfortunately they’ll never fully get what it’s like, but you do,” you smiled.

You talked a little more, then spilt off to actually go to get ready to leave the building for the night. The upcoming Friday was going to be a long one.

Once again, you let your manager and assistant and everyone leave ahead of you. Regardless of whether you would hitch a ride with Tom again, you could find your way around easily.

You waited by the door until you heard their voices nearing and the boys came into the hallway.

“Oh y/n, you’re still here, too,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I was trying to decide what to do for dinner tonight before I head back to the hotel.”

“Well we’re going to grab some pizza if you want to join us,” Harrison offered happily, causing Tom to look at him funny.

“Y/n probably doesn’t want to be bothered by us all day every day and plus, she had pizza last night, I’m sure she doesn’t want it again. Sorry, y/n, don’t feel pressured by this div,” Tom said apologetically.

“Honestly, I could eat pizza everyday, so that’s not an issue, and I honestly love hanging out with you guys. You remind me of my friends back home. If y’all want to eat together, I seriously would not mind.”

“Really?” Tom asked incredulously, then recomposed himself. “Well, yeah, sure. We were gonna head back to the hotel to change clothes and then figure things out from there, is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect, except I’m paying the cab fare this time.”

***

In most situations, a group of guys you’d only known a couple of days asking you into their hotel room would be a major red flag, and it probably still should have been, but you threw caution to the wind and went to Tom’s suite anyways.

Harry answered the door and let you in, and inside you found Tom and Harrison on the floor of the living space drinking beers. They both raised their cans up to you as you came in.

All three of the boys were in simple sweats and t-shirts, similar to you in your leggings and sweatshirt. It wasn’t much later that Harry went to the lobby to retrieve the pizzas they’d ordered and you were all digging in, seated around the coffee table talking.

You all discussed random things, poking fun at each other like you were old friends. It was like they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“How you think this weekend’s gonna go, y/n?” Tom asked between swigs of his ale.

“I’d say pretty good. I’m hella nervous though. SNL is like its own universe.”

“You can say that again. This is like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

“Oh, come on. You two are both going to do great Saturday. Don’t think too much about it and just have fun,” Harrison encouraged as you continued eating.

Throughout the evening, you couldn’t help but pick up on the way you and Tom kept making eye contact. It was brief, but it was different than how you and Harry or Harrison looked at each other. There was something else there.

Your stomach fluttered. Who else could say that they spent an evening drinking with their biggest celebrity crush? And then continually exchange flirty looks?

At one point Tom even tossed a wink at you after cracking a joke, causing your heartbeat to quicken momentarily.

After getting lost in conversation with the boys, you realized the time and prepared to excuse yourself back to your own room. The coming morning was going to be an early one, after all.

“Oh man, I better head out. We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you commented, stretching as you stood up. The boys followed suit.

“Wow I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been sitting here,” Tom added.

“Yeah. Thanks again for letting me come over tonight. I haven’t gotten to do something like this in a while so it’s nice to just spend time with people who I don’t pay to hang around me all day, you know?”

“I understand and definitely can agree, since these divs are kind of paid to hang around me.”

You all laughed as Tom walked you to the door.

“Well. See you bright and early...” you trailed.

“Yeah, see you then,” Tom answered, awkwardly sticking out his arms for a hug. You obliged, squeezing your arms around his neck as his held your waist.

And goodness did he give good hugs.

***

You were definitely tired walking into 8H Friday morning. The caffeinated drink in hand helped a little, but late night beers paired with waking up early didn’t quite go hand in hand.

It wasn’t really a hangover either, since you hadn’t been fully drunk, but it didn’t help the exhaustion from traveling, working the past two days, and a lack of sleep.

The first thing you had to do was rehearse your songs for Saturday as the set team worked on transporting and putting together large set pieces that had been made at the navy yard in Brooklyn.

Tom and the cast weren’t far away, figuring the live show with costuming and quick changes along with doing some pre-filmed sketches. The writers were continually making adjustments and figuring out how things would be done.

They eventually called you over, too, to rehearse your sketches and film one of them. You had to get used to the costumes and cue cards and blocking of each. There had been some minor changes as well, so you had to be quick on your feet.

By lunchtime, all the cast took a well deserved break to sit and have a bite. The writers were having to shuffle around while they tried to eat as you and Tom sat down to talk some more.

“Hey, sorry to bug you, but do you guys mind if I take a picture or two for the SNL social media accounts?” a page asked while you were munching on sandwiches.

You and Tom looked at each other and shrugged.

“Fine with me,” you answered, Tom giving a similar reply. The two of you leaned in next to each other, holding up your sandwiches and laughing.

A few photos were snapped and you and Tom approved of them to be posted online. You thought nothing of it as you went to more rehearsals, working through the show’s order and trying to get down timing before Saturday’s dress rehearsal and show.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching the sketches, as this was your first time seeing the ones you weren’t a part of. Tom’s comedic timing and dry British humor paired well with the material he was given.

When the day came to an end, you were looking through instagram and gathering your things. You went to SNL’s page and put the post of you and Tom together onto your story, adding the text “Can’t wait for everyone to see my favorite sandwich partner host the show tomorrow!”

As before, you thought nothing of it and posted the story, heading out the door to ride back with Tom and the boys.

***

At the hotel, you and Tom had decided to not hang out for the evening since you’d be having a late, late night Saturday and wanted to get some sleep. You opened up social media as you laid in bed to wind down.

You decided to look at the picture of you and Tom from lunch again and read some comments, hoping there would be some funny ones and whatnot.

Instead, you found hundreds of comments saying “omg ship” and “my two faves together” and “this couple would be everything!!”

You were honestly shocked to see people saying that about you, especially since you had never heard of your fans indicating that they wanted to see you two together.

Twitter was also buzzing over you and Tom’s picture, some fan pages just talking about either one of you, while others also talked about shipping you.

In your heart, you kind of enjoyed it, since you were hardcore crushing on Tom now, but you had no idea how he felt.

Did he like you back? Did he just think of you as just a friend or acquaintance? Was he secretly dating someone and you were just reading too much into it?

It was much to think about, so instead you closed your phone and fell into a deep slumber.

***

You didn’t have to be in the studio as early as the past days since dress rehearsal wasn’t until 8pm and the show started at 11:30. You felt better rested than the day before, but butterflies were constantly erupting in your stomach.

You and Tom caught each other at the building’s entrance and went up the elevators together.

“Ready for tonight?” you asked, tapping a foot anxiously.

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Same here. Not only is it going to be watched by millions, but some of the most important people in my life are coming and I’m freaking out a little.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked softly. “And who would that be?”

“Well, my parents and some friends from home. I can sing in front of sold out stadiums but I still get nervous if I know they’re in a crowd. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No I totally get it. My parents and brothers will all be here, too, and my heart races when they watch my work. The best advice ever given to me, though was ‘turn nerves into excitement,’ and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

You nodded and smiled up at him.

“That is pretty good. Thanks,” you replied as the elevator doors opened.

The halls were bustling with what seemed like every employee as you headed to your green room. It wasn’t long before you were being thrown updated scripts and rehearsing again.

Finally as dusk turned to night, the dress rehearsal audience seats began filling up. You were bouncing nervously in the hall as you watched the cast begin the cold open on a monitor.

“Nervous?” a male voice asked quietly next to you. It was Tom, of course. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“Excited,” you replied cheekily. He smiled and was about to say something else when a crew member came by to lead him to his starting place for the monologue. He gave a quick wave before heading backstage, instead.

The dress rehearsal went okay, certain jokes and lines being cut and rearranged by the end for time. Thankfully the audience received everything well, for the most part.

Your own music and sketches felt like a rush, but you were proud. Tom’s advice had really gotten to you, because you were bubbling with excited anticipation for 11:30 broadcast to begin.

There was about an hour between dress and the actual taping, so you scarfed down a few bites of food and tried to shake out some jitters. You also sipped some caffeinated hot tea and did vocal runs to stay in tip top shape.

Your friends and family stopped by the green room to say hi before they joined the audience, giving you hugs and encouragement for the evening ahead.

As the clock neared 11:30, you were walking down a hall already dressed for your first song when you almost bumped into Tom.

“Oh, hey! Great job at dress! You’re gonna do amazing,” you immediately said, making him beam.

“Thank you! And you too! Your voice is on fire tonight, as if it’s ever not.”

“You haven’t heard me try to sing sick, then. I sound like a diseased animal.” You shook your hands and head to dismiss yourself. “But, uh, earlier I was gonna tell you ‘break a leg’ and then I remembered you used to dance, sooo... merde.”

Tom raised his brows and chuckled.

“You know that phrase too?” You nodded. “Well then merde to you, too. Oh, and I was wanting to ask if tonig-”

Tom was cut off by someone once again needing to drag him away to prepare for the show, causing you both to toss waves at each other again. Maybe he’d finish his thought later.

This was it. The real deal.

You took that as a cue to find your place by the monitors until after Tom’s monologue and the commercial break, when you’d start moving to stand with the band.

The cold open landed well, and you felt chills hearing two of the cast yell,

“And live from New York, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!”

The classic jazz music of SNL played over the intro and Tom made his way down the iconic steps to do his monologue.

Your heart fluttered seeing him stand on that stage with a wide smile, waving at the crowd. He was dressed in a blue suit and his curls were styled just right. He looked incredible.

The monologue landed well and you felt an even bigger flutter as you heard Tom lead into commercial, saying the iconic line,

“We have a great show for you tonight! Y/n Y/l/n is here! So stick around we’ll be right back!”

With that the camera panned out and cut, and chaos began as the crew moved everyone to set the first live sketch. In the meantime, a prefilmed sketch played, the one you had participated in.

The audience cheered and laughed at your surprise appearance in the sketch, which made you feel really good. You had moved now to a place where you could see the stage in person.

The camera panned in as the audience applauded and the next sketch began. Even after having seen it multiple times that week, you couldn’t help but laugh as the ridiculous character Tom played so well.

When they cut to another commercial break, it was your time to get ready to sing the first song.

Your stomach fluttered like it always did before a show, but Tom shot you a thumbs up before the break ended and boosted your confidence. A camera was pointed in his face as he calmly said,

“Ladies and gentlemen, y/n y/l/n,” as he gestured towards you.

The lights came up and you began playing, and you became lost in the music like always. It came and ended quickly, and suddenly you were listening to the cheers of the audience. You waved and bowed in thanks as the cameras panned again.

Up came the weekend update, your favorite part of any Saturday Night Live. The jokes for the segment were typically written on Saturday, so many of them were new to you.

Tom came and stood next to you during the update with a bowl-cut red wig dressed in khakis and a sweater vest over a button up. You looked him up and down amused.

“Your performance was amazing,” he whispered.

“Thanks. You’re doing great out there. They love you,” you whispered back.

“I sure hope so. Hey I’ve been trying to ask if-” he started, but then was cut off by someone grabbing him and leading him towards stage for the next sketch. Your stomach fluttered again.

What could he possibly want to ask me?

The live sketch transitioned into a prefilm and then you were up again, this song was more energetic and included some choreography, and you felt confident in the shimmering gold bodysuit and boots you were wearing.

You happily danced and sung after Tom reintroduced you to the crowd and got a large round of applause. There was only one sketch left of the show and you were in it, so the team rushed you into a quickchange booth offstage to put on your costume and a quick wig.

The sketch began and you stood to the side nervously. When your cue came, you burst onto the stage clumsily, as directed by the script. Your character made some inappropriate comments to Tom’s which garnered you many laughs again.

It was satisfying.

Once the sketch ended, all that was left were the goodnights, so you were again rushed off to change into a cute jumpsuit and reaffix your hair. Tom came out in a blue suit with the jacket unbuttoned, a black tee underneath.

You rushed to take your place next to him as other cast members filed in around you, Lorne standing in the middle of the room watching to make sure everyone came out. The audience applauded as the music played and camera panned.

After they gave the final countdown, Tom began giving thanks to many people, from cast and crew, to family, and to you.

“I want to give a huge thanks to tonight’s musical guest, y/n y/l/n,” he exclaimed, gesturing to you. The crowd cheered and you laughed and waved, giving him a joking elbow.

“I love you all! Goodnight!” he finally exclaimed.

With that, the music was brought up and everyone began hugging as the credits rolled. You immediately turned to Tom and he to you, both of you throwing arms wide.

You wanted to hug him forever, but realized that it would look fishy and there were many people you still wanted to hug and thank.

Both of you pulled back, giving each other a quick “good job!” before turning to others.

***

You were finally offstage and had said quick goodbyes to your family, who wouldn’t be staying for the afterparty. As you headed towards the greenroom for the last time that night, you were stopped by Tom.

“Hey! Y/n,” he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh my gosh there you are!” you said, turning to give him another hug, this one more emotional and less performative.

“I’m serious y/n, you were incredible. I know I’ve said it a million times but you have a real gift. Not to mention your acting skills,” he said into the crook of your neck.

You pulled away to look at him, arms still loosely wrapped around him.

“Well thank you, but you were great too. Everyone loved you. I loved you out there.” You paused for a moment, arms sliding from his shoulders as you continued to walk down the hall. “You know I had a lot of fun this week. Doing this and just hanging out. I was really nervous to meet you.”

“I did too, and yeah, we were all super nervous to meet you, too. Like I told you before, we listen to your music a lot. But, uh, that being said. All night I’ve been trying to ask if you’d like to go to the afterparty with me?”

“Oh yeah that’s perfect! Are the guys coming too?” you asked enthusiastically, not detecting the nervousness in his voice.

“No, no. I mean, yeah they’ll be there but...” he stopped and you followed suit. “I’d like you to go with me with me. And ideally leave with me... alone.”

Your eyes widened and breath hitched. Now it clicked. He was asking you out.

“Oh! Well then... I’d like that very much.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Let’s just say you were singing a different kind of tune that night once you left to your empty hotel room “with him.”

***

A/N: omg omg omg I started this story forever ago but finally got around to finishing it! No new marriage project chapter this week, I thought I’d just post this to hold y’all over ;) Thanks for reading!

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ghosttotheparty · 3 years

Text

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

8. Oh, it’s like I’m looking down from the ceiling above AO3

“I just don’t see why I can’t call her or something,” Lucas says dryly, mixing the sugar into his coffee.

“We’ve talked about this,” his dad huffs from behind him, where he’s sitting at the table. “She needs space to recover.”

Lucas lifts the spoon and looks at the sugar, sparkling in the spoon, and drops it back in the mug, stirring more aggressively.

“Yeah, but she has space,” he says without turning to look at him. “I think she could heal a little better if she had support.”

“She has support.”

“She has doctors and pills,” Lucas says. “Which helps, but having her son support her would help too.”

“You can write her a letter,” he says dismissively.

Lucas tosses the spoon into the sink loudly.

“Why would I write her a letter like it’s the fucking nineteenth century,” he says “when I can Skype her or something?” He turns to lean against the counter, but his father is still looking at his laptop in front of him, doing fucking whatever. “Her doctor told me I can schedule a call and—”

“No.”

Lucas grips the countertop behind him, until his nails are digging into it, until it feels like it might crack and crumble. He takes a sharp inhale before speaking.

“She won’t even get a letter for a while, I wanna have an actual conversation with her.”

“I said no.”

“You’re not even listening—”

“I don’t need to listen. I gave you an answer.”

Lucas stares at the back of his head, his heart pounding, livid at his insouciance, at how he just doesn’t care.

“I…” Lucas starts, shaking his head. “I just think if we actually talked about it, you could see what I mean.”

“Lucas…” his father huffs, like he’s the exasperated one. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

“I tried talking to you about it last night— I need your permission to call her,” he says adamantly.

“You’re not getting it,” he says calmly. “Give her space .”

“She—”

“Lucas, drop it,” he snaps finally, turning to look over his shoulder. He looks angry, and a part of Lucas feels gratified. Fucking finally he looks, even if just a fraction, as angry as Lucas feels. (Another part of him is startled. Every time he gets angry, it’s this quick, this sudden. It’s always sharp anger, preceded by silence, by indifference, until he snaps.) “You’re not getting permission. You can write her a letter.”

Lucas states back, relaxing his face. A part of him wants to give his father the same treatment, the same unreasonable coolness, the dryness. A part of him wants to walk out, and leave him angry.

He doesn’t.

“Would you even send it if I wrote one?” he asks calmly.

His father is quiet, still staring with furrowed brows.

“God, you really just don’t like her,” Lucas says. “You just don’t want me to talk to her.”

“You don’t need to.”

“She’s my mother,” he says, leaning forward, losing some of the stoicism he’s trying to maintain.

“And I’m your father.”

“You didn’t raise me,” Lucas snaps. “And I’m fucking glad you didn’t,” he mutters as he walks out of the room, leaving his father sputtering some nonsense, bullshit that Lucas doesn’t even bother acknowledging.

He shuts him up by slamming his bedroom door (or maybe he just can’t hear him anymore), and he stands there for a few seconds, just shaking, just trembling, just trying and trying and trying to take a deep breath, but it doesn’t work, and he explodes.

“Motherfucker!”

He swipes his hand across the top of one of the cardboard boxes (the goddamn cardboard boxes), snatching a sketchbook and flinging it behind himself, throwing it into the door.

His eyes squeeze shut and he falls to his knees as the sketchbook hits the door loudly, splitting open, and the papers fly in the air, falling around him. He hears the pages hit the ground, soft scrapes against the uneven wood that sound like the screeches of metal on the inside of Lucas’s skull.

He whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut tighter and tighter until it hurts as he presses his hands over his ears, drowning out the sound of his father tossing silverware into the drawer, the loud, shrill clattering, the drawer slamming shut like it’s in competition with Lucas’s bedroom door. Lucas’s head dips lower until his forehead presses into the floor, gritting his teeth against the whimpers that escape him as his father begins to shout at him through the doors, through the walls.

Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.

Lucas doesn’t realise he’s speaking out loud, softly murmuring the words to the floor, until he finally does shut up, until the apartment lays deathly silent, as if in apocalypse. Lucas opens his eyes and stops whispering, staring at the floor. It’s so close that it’s blurry, swirls of dusty brown and age. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the edge of a sheet of paper that floated down next to him.

He looks at the drawing, slowly, tentatively moving his hands away from his ears as he lifts his head. His eyes focus on the sketch.

He almost wants to look away from it, almost wants to crawl closer to it and snatch it from the ground in a tight fist, almost wants to crumple it and tear it up until it’s dust.

Instead he stares at it, only breaking eye contact with it when he startled, jumping and wincing as the front door slams shut in the dead silence of the apartment. It echoes through Lucas’s head as he deflates, sighing and collapsing onto the floor.

He moans softly, pressing his forehead against the grainy wood, lifting his arms to press them to his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he sighs heavily.

Piece of shit.

He ends up climbing into bed, tugging the blanket over his head and blocking out the sunlight. It still comes through the blanket, pressing against his eyelids in faint shades of red and purple.

He pulls it down when his phone vibrates, and he looks at it dejectedly, his eyes hooded as the screen lights up and it buzzes against the floor. When he lifts his head he can read Jens’s name on the screen, but he lets his head fall and he rolls away before he can read what Jens is saying.

He stares at the blank wall, biting his trembling lip when his phone buzzes again.

And again.

- - -

Lucas only comes out from under the blanket when he can’t stay still any more, when he gets tired of bouncing his foot against his mattress and tapping his fingertips against the floor with his hand hanging off the side of his bed just to hear the noise.

His father still hasn’t returned, (Lucas wonders briefly where he is, where he could be. Out drinking? With friends? Lucas would be surprised if he has any.) but Lucas still walks as lightly as possible to the kitchen, carefully stepping over the creaky floorboards in the hallway like his dad is going to come out of nowhere.

He opens the fridge (to stare for a while before shutting it and leaving it like he usually does), but stops when he sees his forgotten coffee.

The mug is cold to the touch so he pours it into a bigger glass with some ice and sticks a straw in it, taking a sip and wincing at its bitterness (though he doesn’t bother finding more sugar) as he goes back to his room.

He kicks some paper out of the way when he enters his room, navigating it in the sudden dimness he hadn’t noticed until now. There’s light coming through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the floor, and they shift like illusions as the papers slide across the floor.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick them up. He barely spares them a glance. He knows them well. He could redraw them in his sleep.

They’re all people. Some of the pages are covered with messy pencil sketches of Kes and Jayden and Isa and Noah, smudged and blended under Lucas’s hand. He never fixed them, or tried to avoid the smudges. None of the drawings felt like real drawings, like actual portraits he wanted to put effort into. They just made him feel better. Some of them are random people from the internet, photos he’s screenshotted from Pinterest, because he likes the slope of their noses and the angle of their eyes.

And then there’s Jens.

Lucas is embarrassed, if he’s honest. He’d never show them to anyone. He barely even looks at them himself, except the few times he gets stuck, looking at it like Jens is right in front of him, even though he’s only ever seen him in Instagram photos and over Facetime and Skype.

Some of his drawings even capture the graininess of the photos, the blur of his screen as Jens grins at him. (Somehow the drawings give Lucas the same swoop in his stomach and flutter in his chest.)

Lucas sets his coffee on the ground next to his mattress before grabbing the drawings off the ground, quickly, rushed, his cheeks burning even though he’s completely alone. He stuffs them into a box, ignoring the way they bunch and wrinkle and fold so they fit before he slams it shut, pressing the worn and papered tape over the seam harshly so it stays closed.

He grabs his phone from the ground before flipping onto his bed, huffing and leaning against the wall before picking up the coffee and taking a few gulps to nurse his headache. (Though the caffeine probably won’t help much in the long run.)

He scrolls through his notifications as he sips the coffee.

Jens hey do you wanna zoom with the guys?? lucas???? l u c a s lu :(((

Moyo bro you there?? we miss you 💔

Robbe hey we’re video chatting if you want to join! :)

Aaron lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas lucas

Jens is everything okay? call me when you want

The final message was sent a while after the others, and Lucas’s chest tightens.

He takes one last gulp of coffee before he sets the cup down (the ice cubes were watering it down anyway) and slides back so his head is propped up against his tower of pillows, and he calls him.

He answers quickly, before Lucas’s head is even settled.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says lightly, and even his expression softens. “‘S fine.”

Jens is quiet for a second before he says, “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

Lucas really can’t tell if it’s a question or not. Either way, his face falls and he squeezes his eyes shut as he inhales deeply. Jens can see right through him.

“Not really,” he says quietly.

“That’s okay,” Jens says softly. “Would you rather talk about how Nick is definitely in love with Gatby?”

Lucas startles and scoffs before a giggle is ripped right out of his chest.

“What?”

“You don’t see it? It’s so obvious!”

“I mean— I’m not arguing with you, I just…” He closes his eyes again, grinning at the ceiling. “Do you have textual evidence?” he asks, annunciating and imitating Ms Peeters.

“Uh, the book?” Jens says sassily, and Lucas almost giggles again. He can just imagine the furrow of Jens’s eyebrows and jut of his chin. “He follows Gatsby everywhere, he’s all he thinks about!”

I’d follow you anywhere.

“He’s the narrator,” Lucas says, ignoring the thought.

“Okay, and why do you think— What’s his name? Fitz— Fitzgerald?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why do you think Fitzgerald chose to make Nick the narrator instead of choosing to use third person narration?”

Lucas pauses, processing his question.

“What, are you my final?”

A laugh bursts out of Jens.

“I don’t know,” Lucas sighs. “Why do you think?”

“Uh…” Jens sighs thoughtfully and there’s a rustle of fabric. Lucas wonders if he’s laying down too. “I think he just thought the gays needed a win.”

Lucas laughs loudly, rolling onto his side and shaking head, his eyes squeezing shut under his smile.

“I don’t think people were that invested in us back then,” he says as he settles.

And then he freezes, his eyes flying open.

He didn’t mean to let out so soon.

He’d been thinking about it, how to go about telling Jens that he’s embarrassingly gay without scaring him off. (Though he also reminded himself that Jens’s best friend is gay. Though, he also reminded himself, Robbe’s known Jens a lot longer than he has.)

He stayed up last night with it on his mind, whether it’s worth it or not, telling Jens he’s gay, and risk Jens thinking he likes him. (He wouldn’t be wrong, of course. That’s another thing that kept Lucas up: the way the mere thought of him, or his voice, makes Lucas’s heart flutter, makes his breath shorten, the way the fucking thought of seeing him in person makes Lucas gasp in excitement. He has it bad.)

“Maybe not, but you don’t think Fitzgerald was a little gay?” Jens says, paying no mind, and Lucas’s eyes open to the stack of boxes in front of him.

“What?” he says, laughing.

“You don’t think so?”

“He had a wife.”

“Oh, did he?”

“Yeah, her name was Zelda.”

“That’s a dope name. Okay, whatever, he had a wife. Sure. He still could have been a little gay.”

“I guess?”

“No straight person speaks that poetically.”

Lucas snorts, rolling over more until he’s almost laying on his stomach. He rests his chin on her forearm, holding his phone to his ear as he looks outside, seeing the city between the blinds.

“Then that would prove that Nick is gay, not Gatsby.”

“I never said Gatsby was gay,” Jens says, followed by another rustling sound and a soft huff of breath, like he’s mirroring Lucas. “Just the author. And Nick.”

“So it’s about unrequited romance?” Lucas says, his chest tightening slightly. He takes a deep breath as quietly as he can, feeling suddenly like his lungs won’t fill quite right.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jens says softly. “He’s watching Gatsby fall in love with Daisy, that’s heartbreaking.”

Lucas swallows.

“Gatsby was already in love with Daisy.”

“Right.” Jens takes a breath and Lucas closes his eyes for a second. He wonders what it would be like to fall asleep like this, with his phone pressed to his ear, with Jens’s voice whispering to him. “Nick was falling in love with Gatsby, and watching Gatsby be in love with someone else. Is that worse?”

Lucas thinks for a second, about the day, the second he realised his crush on Kes.

He was sitting across the table from him at a cafe, and Kes had kicked him in the shin by accident before looking under the table and kicking him again. Lucas had laughed and tried to kick him back but missed, kicking the table so hard it jostled, and Kes burst with laughter as Lucas hissed “Shit!” and grabbed the edge of the table to steady it.

Lucas had listened to Kes laugh. And looked at the way Kes was looking at him, his eyes bright with amusement. He’d even dropped his phone to laugh before setting his forehead on the table when Lucas shushed him, seeing a woman at another table turn to look.

And he remembers watching Kes fall for Isa.

Watching kiss her and pull her close when all Lucas wanted to hold his hand.

“I think it might be.”

Jens hums thoughtfully.

“We could write an essay about that.”

“Oh,” Lucas says, blinking. “We could.”

“Ms Peeters would definitely like it. She likes in-depth analyses. Even if they make no sense.”

Lucas chuckles, trying to forget about Kes.

It’s not hard to forget right now.

Not with Jens’s voice in his ear.

“We still have to finish reading it,” Lucas says.

“Of course.” Jens sighs. “I can see why you like it so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

They’re quiet for a second, and Lucas looks out the window. It’s dark now, and there are still bright windows scattered around the city. The street lamp across the street from his building flickers. Lucas wonders if stars flicker before they go out too.

“Lu?” Jens says softly, and Lucas closes his eyes. No one ever called him that before Jens. (No one does now either. He wonders if anyone else will. He hopes not.)

“Mmhmm?”

“Are you better now?”

“Yeah,” he says after a pause. “I am, actually.” You have that effect on me, he doesn’t add.

“Do you wanna talk about it now?”

Lucas smiles softly. It doesn’t feel like Jens is just curious. Like if Lucas were to say no, Jens would just say that’s okay.

Which gives him more bravery.

“It’s just…” he starts, huffing softly. “My dad. I’m so sick of him.”

Jens hums quietly.

Lucas squeezes his eyes shut and his lip quivers.

“I just—” he chokes. “I’m so fucking tired of this place.”

“Which place?”

“Just— I don’t know,” he says before burying his face in his arm. “This city, this apartment.” He lifts his head. “Mainly this apartment. All these fucking boxes.”

“When we— When we can meet up,” Jens stammers out, “I’ll take you places.” He sounds so sincere, so desperate, that Lucas’s heart squeezes. He shuts his eyes, hanging onto every word. “Wherever you want. Wherever we can go. I’ll leave Lotte with my dad, and we can stay out as long as you need to.”

Lucas muffles a sob into his arm, clutching the phone like a lifeline.

“And until then we can call whenever you want, and we can call my friends—” He cuts off. “Oh!”

Lucas rubs his face on his sleeve, letting out a breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, uhm…”

Lucas can sense his hesitation, and smiles.

“Tell me.”

“My friends and I were gonna have another call, I thought you’d like to join?” He pauses again. “The guys, but also some others.”

“Will they like me?” Lucas asks, only half joking. His voice is small.

“Of course.”

“When?”

“I don’t know yet, probably Friday? But they talked about Thursday, I’ll text you when we figure it out.”

“Okay.”

“And you can call or text any of them whenever, if you need a distraction or…”

“Jens?” Lucas whispers after a quiet second.

“Yeah?”

Lucas shuts his eyes again.

“Thank you.”

- - -

There aren’t many other people Lucas talks to from school. He exchanges messages with Mohamed from literature for a little bit, but the conversation doesn’t really go anywhere. The only other message he gets is from a girl, Élina, who he doesn’t recognise, but most of her posts were photographed at school. (Lucas wandered around the campus after arriving in Antwerp, just to see. There was no one there, save for an older woman who looked at Lucas disdainfully.)

Her message, heyyyyy youre new right?, makes Lucas cringe, reading it in the same voice as the girls that used to approach him at parties. The girls that he would flirt back with, doing everything in his power to ignore the uncomfortable churn in his stomach, the twisting of his nerves as the girls reached out and pushed his curls back or brushed their fingertips over his jaw and freckles. It made him so viscerally uncomfortable that for a while he wondered if he could be attracted to anyone at all. He even did research, finding out about the spectrums of asexuality and aromanticism, trying to find what fit, but nothing ever did. It was then that he decided he should probably experiment, and eventually he realised he doesn’t mind hands touching his hair and face softly or eyes looking at him like that when it’s another boy.

He still pretended, though. Even when his phone had the notifications set to not appear on his screen, notifications from pretty boys and their photos and slick words, he would press girls against walls and listen to their giggles and whispers, ignoring the ugly thoughts he couldn’t stop thinking.

He’s tired of pretending.

So when Élina sends him a message one night as he waits for Jens to get Lotte to sleep, a message that reads sooo do you have a girlfriend 👀, he sets his jaw and takes a deep breath before responding.

élina i’m gay

She responds with the laughing emoji, and he waits as she types, until lol no worries appears, followed by lucky boys ;).

He exhales and responds with a smiley face.

- - -

“Hey,” Lucas says softly when Moyo appears on his screen.

“Hey,” he says back, whispering. “Why are we quiet?”

Lucas chuckles, wrinkling his nose at him.

“My dad’s in the living room,” he explains. “You don’t have to be quiet. I have headphones.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Where is everyone?”

“They’re coming,” Moyo says, checking his phone. “How’ve you been?”

Lucas hesitates, wondering if he should tell him anything he’s told Jens. But he doesn’t want to fuck up the mood before the party’s even started.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ve been doing homework and stuff.”

“Gross.”

“Copying Jens’s maths.”

“As you should.”

“Oh my god!” Lucas says, setting his laptop on his bed as he remembers suddenly.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I just…” He pauses as he reaches to grab his sketchbook from the ground next to him. “I had something for you, I just remembered.” He sits back to see Moyo’s eyebrows raised.

“For me?”

“Something to show you, yeah.” He grabs his phone. “I’ll text you a picture, hold on.”

He waits as it sends, awkwardly tilting his head back and forth until Moyo lets out an Oh!

“Holy— Oh my god!” His voice has risen several octaves, and Lucas giggles, his eyes squinting under his grin. “That’s me!”

“Yeah!”

“You actually— Oh my god.” Moyo pulls his phone close to his face, hiding himself from Lucas as he looks at the photo of the sketch more intently.

“I said you have a nice face.”

“Lucaaaassss,” Moyo whines, and Lucas giggles again, leaning down and resting his chin on his hands happily. “This is so cool.”

Lucas is relieved, if he’s honest. He’d done the drawing late last night, looking back and forth between his sketchbook and a photo from Moyo’s Instagram.

“You like it?”

Moyo lets out an indignant noise, looking at Lucas with wide eyes.

“I fucking love it, bro.”

“Yeah?”

Moyo’s box shifts as Lucas grins at him, and Jens appears next to him.

“Hey,” Jens says brightly as Lucas’s eyes move to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I show him, Luc?” Moyo asks excitedly, and it takes Lucas a second to rip his eyes away from Jens’s pixelated face to answer, “Yeah, course.”

“I’ll text it.”

“What’s going on?” Jens asks, confused, and a little thrill goes through Lucas at the sight of his wrinkled brow.

“Lucas drew me!”

Jens’s eyebrows raise and he grins.

“Yeah?”

Lucas’s face burns when Jens receives the photo, when Jens exclaims that it’s so fucking good, man, when Jens looks up at him through the camera, and Lucas can feel his eyes on him, his delight.

“You wanted to draw someone and you chose Moyo?” Jens asks, grinning as Moyo lets out an offended “Hey!”

Lucas’s face burns again, and he hopes Jens (and Moyo, he supposes) can’t see his cheeks bloom. He shrugs, forcing a grin.

“I said he has a nice face.”

As Moyo playfully shoos at him, saying “Oh, stop it,” and looking back at the drawing, Jens’s eyebrows quirk up and his eyes widen as he leans forward slightly.

Oh.

Oh no.

Lucas glances at Moyo, who is still looking down, and then back at Jens, shaking his head. Jens’s brows raise more and he starts to smile, starts to beam, amusement in his eyes.

No, Lucas mouths, shaking his head harder, but before they can continue their silent conversation, the boxes shift again and a girl’s voice says, “What’s up, fuckers?”

“Luca,” Moyo says indignantly, as Jens laughs. It takes Lucas a second to look away from Jens to the girl, who has her hand clapped over her mouth.

“I don’t know you,” she says, dropping it and leaning close. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “We’re basically already friends.”

“I’m Luca,” she says, holding a hand out to the camera.

“Lucas.”

He copies her and they shake, both laughing lightly.

“Where is everyone?” Luca asks.

“They’ll be here soon,” Jens says.

It takes a little while for them all to arrive.

Zoë comes in next (she smiles when Lucas compliments her hair), followed by Aaron and Amber who, Lucas has to agree with Aaron, is very pretty. Not Lucas’s type (obviously), but pretty nonetheless. Robbe and Sander arrive next, almost simultaneously, and after an onslaught of teasing from Moyo and Luca, Jens interrupts to tell Lucas to show Sander his art.

“Uhhh…” Lucas grabs at his phone before looking up again. “Moyo.”

“On it,” Moyo says sharply, looking away and lifting his phone.

Lucas flushes under Sander’s praise.

Yasmina joins next, already smiling as she appears on Lucas’s screen. She’s wearing a yellow hijab, and the brightness of her smile with the soft fabric makes Lucas think of the sun. (He tells her, exclaiming “You look like sunshine!” to which she responds with a squeal and a bright, flushed, broad smile.)

Jana appears last.

She’s smiling when she appears too, but it’s a smaller smile, almost sad.

“Hey,” Zoë says when Jana’s arrival interrupts conversation. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jana says dismissively. “Where’s the new kid? I gotta find you.” Her eyes scan her screen and Lucas waves his hand. “Ah!”

“Lucas,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Jana,” she says with a smile.

She’s sweet. Her laugh is nice.

Lucas knows he doesn’t really have a reason to not like her. But he can’t seem to help it as he listens to her tease Jens, to Jens tease her. As he watches Jens’s eyes while Jana speaks, as he watches Jana’s eyes as Jens speaks. There’s nothing for him really to go on, nothing really to suggest anything between them except Lucas’s overthinking.

He can’t stop overthinking.

He can’t even tell if Jens’s eyes are really softening when Jana speaks or if it’s just Lucas’s mind telling him they are, or if Jens is really saying Jana in a certain way.

(He can’t really tell if Jana is Daisy or not.)

It’s dark when everyone leaves. Dark dark. In everyone’s room, except Amber, who leaves all her lights on, including a lamp next to her. Zoë leaves first, because We have school tomorrow!, followed by Robbe because he’s actively falling asleep.

Jana leaves last, still chatting with Jens, who involves Lucas for his input. It’s sweet, especially as Lucas just… sits there, listening and watching.

He still gives her a friendly bye-bye wave when she leaves. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is. And she really is nice.

“So,” Jens says firmly when it’s just them, rocking forward and making the same face he did earlier, when Moyo wasn’t looking.

“No,” Lucas answers, already shaking his head.

“You don’t know what I’m gonna say!” Jens exclaims, delighted. His voice is hushed, and he’s wearing headphones (he’d gotten them out about halfway through the call), looking awfully lovely.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say, and the answer is no.”

“No what?”

“No,” Lucas insists, not really wanting to say it. “I don’t have a crush on Moyo.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jens makes a face full of doubt, complete with raised eyebrows and a downward tilted chin.

“I don’t.”

“You said he has a nice face,” Jens teases.

“He does,” Lucas insists. “But so does… Yasmina. That doesn’t mean I have a crush on her.”

“…Okay, fair.”

Lucas doesn’t tell him about the drawings.

The ones stuffed into the boxes in his room, hidden away where he doesn’t have to see them, the ones of photos from Jens’s Instagram, the ones of subtle screenshots Lucas takes during their Facetime calls, the ones of Jens focussing on his maths homework while Lucas pretends to pay attention. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tell him about them. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with them.

“What did you think of the girls?” Jens asks, setting his chin on her forearm. He’s laying on his stomach, and Lucas wants to memorise the image: Jens looking up at him with sleep in his eyes, looking awfully precious.

“They’re really nice,” Lucas says honestly. He almost mirrors him, but instead he moves onto his side, resting his legs around the laptop and laying on his head on a curled arm. “Amber makes me think of someone I know in Utrecht.”

“Is she also a human strawberry?”

Lucas blinks.

“Actually, yeah. That’s…”

“I’m a genius,” Jens sighs, and Lucas makes a face.

“Fuck you,” Jens laughs, his eyes squinting, and then closing completely as he yawns into his arm.

“You should sleep.”

“You should sleep,” Jens retorts, laying his head down and looking at Lucas. His eyelids are low. Lucas’s heart skips a beat. “I don’t wanna go to bed,” Jens complains, oblivious to Lucas’s internal crisis of the admiration of sleepy Jens.

“We have school tomorrow,” he points out.

“You’re worth it,” Jens mumbles.

And Lucas fucking f a l l s .

“Cheesy bitch,” he says, ignoring his heart’s free-fall, and Jens giggles. It’s a sleepy laugh, raw and unfiltered, and Lucas smiles at it.

“Jens?” Lucas asks softly after a minute, and Jens’s eyes flutter open. Maybe he was asleep. But he smiles when his eyes settle on Lucas.

“Mmhmm?”

“Did you mean it? That you… That you’ll take me around when we can meet up?”

Jens’s brows furrow for a second and he lifts his head.

“Yeah, of course.” He sets his chin on his arm. “I’ll take you wherever. We’ll have to stay distanced for a while but…” He shrugs. “I’ll keep you out of your apartment.”

Lucas nuzzles into his arm and Jens lays his head down again, still looking at him.

“You don’t think it’ll be awkward?” Lucas says. “Last time I met up with someone from the internet it was super awkward.”

He doesn’t mention that he’d met the boy on a dating app, and that they’d hooked up and left.

“I won’t let it be,” Jens says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll let my full extrovert personality come out.” He sighs. “You can be awkward if you want. I won’t.”

“Okay,” Lucas whispers. He’s not sure if Jens hears.

#i dont even remember the last time I updated this #idek if anyones reading it lmao #but yall i swear im still writing this #i have a lot going on but I haven't abandoned my boys #anyway #go stretch and drink water #eat something yummy #tell someone you love them #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fic #skam nl fic #vds #van der stoffels #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #while the world ends around us (make believe with me)#ninety percent of the things i made italicized arent italicized im so mad what the fuck @ ao3

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whoreiaki-kakyoin · 2 years

Note

Heat sink, Graphics Processing unit, Solid state drive

(Answering these for Kakyoin!)

Heat sink: How does your F/O help you destress and vent? Conversely, how do you help them?

We each can have a tendency to bottle things up. Sometimes, Nori will lay his head in my lap as he tells me what’s bothering him, and I’ll run my fingers through his hair as I listen. I’ll often rub his shoulders and hands if he’s been working hard on something, and bringing him a hot cup of tea before letting him kick my ass in a video game always raises his spirits.

Kakyoin is an excellent listener when I need to vent. The trick is more that he’ll spot that I’m freaking out about something and trying to ignore it, so he’ll call me on it and ask me to tell him everything because it’ll make me feel better. He’s also quick to suggest things like a walk or a trip to a nearby park when I need to unwind. That and some cuddles with him while we watch a movie? Goes a long way for making me feel better ❤️

Graphics Processing Unit (GPU): Is your f/o artistically inclined? If so, which medium do they prefer? Do you ever help them with their craft?

For sure! Kakyoin loves painting, often enjoying acrylics and watercolors, but he’s also pretty fond of charcoal! Sometimes, he might persuade me to have a hand in one of his painting projects, but more commonly, he might take ideas from some of my writing pieces. (Which is… fine by me actually because he can sketch up sets and costumes better than I ever could 👀🤭)

Solid State Drive (SSD): What are some small details about your F/O that you appreciate?

Physically, I love his little smiles, his long, almost graceful looking fingers, and the happy expression he gets when he laughs. Personality-wise, I like how perceptive he is, picking up on small details other people might not. I also love how loyal he is and find his quirky sense of humor endearing.

#got mail 💌#malibusmoke #f/o ask game #lauriaki 🍒💖

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ivory-sunflower · 3 years

Text

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere.

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless.

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx

29/11/2020

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years

Text

Day 6: “What book is that?”//”Is that smut?”

masterlist

non-descript, non-canon-compliant AU

Leo Valdez sighs as he stares at the gloomy weather taking over his Saturday. It seems that while winter is well and truly underway the sun would not be making an appearance, or at least it hadn’t for the last week. He looks back at the rough sketches he’s drawn for his practical assignment due after winter break and decides he’s worked hard enough for the day. Writing down measurements and ruling a few lines counted, right? He didn’t care. Heaving himself out of his chair he pulls up the socks that had slowly started slipping down and shoves his feet into his giant Yoda slippers that are truly a wonder and a disgrace in equal parts. His friends take turns wearing them and pretending to be everything from big foot to Yoda-crushers. He has a polaroid hall of fame behind his door.

As he trudges across the wooden floor of his apartment his mind wanders to the upcoming days and the time that stretches before him. His roommates are gone to their homes for the break but Leo, ever the orphan, was still stuck in their shared apartment, the weather and his lack of plans keeping him steadfast. He hops onto the kitchen counter and slides across it, landing on the other side in a smooth glide to the fridge. With a self-satisfied smirk he prepares a hot chocolate, laced with coffee because he doesn’t need a sleep schedule when he’s on holiday! He dances at the thought, slurping up a marshmallow and burning himself on the steaming mug.

A knock at the door interrupts his little moment. He glances at the time on the microwave and frowns as he sees 13:30 flashing on the little screen. Who would be here at this time? Everyone he knows is well on their way to family homes or tropical vacations. Stupid Piper and her stupid rich father. He should call her and check in. The knock sounds again and he hurries to open the door.

“Jackson?”

Percy looks up from his phone, a small smile tugging at full lips, “Hi Valdez, can i come in?”

Leo instantly moves aside, as his mind runs a mile a minute. It’s not unusual for Percy to pop around, considering they went to the same university and hung with the same people. It just seemed odd that he’d be here now. When he was supposed to be in New York.

“Is uh, is everything okay?”

That signature smirk takes over that lovely face and it makes his heart beat just a little faster. Well that’s a new reaction. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to come back before the semester reopened, so I could catch up on sleep and video games without Estelle trying to press every button.” His nose scrunches in what’s supposed to be irritation but the soft look in his eyes offsets the whole charade.

“Oh, well make yourself at home.” He gestures to the lounge, which looks relatively neat for once.

“Thanks,” Percy looks around, setting his keys on the kitchen counter and flopping onto the double couch. “Want to play a video game with me?”

“Sure, mind if i go shower first though? I kind of got distracted with school stuff and haven’t actually gotten any self-care stuff in.”

A laugh that reminds him of forest brooks, catches around the apartment. “Go shower, you hazard. I’ll wait for you.”

Sticking his tongue out at the jab he hops off to the bathroom, all the while thinking how nice it is to have a friend here. Even if that friend came back from two months of holiday with sun-kissed skin the colour of maple bark, and green eyes that twinkle as bright as the evening star. It’s never really been fair how gorgeous Percy Jackson was, with his whole skater boy-badass-saving the world-looking-out-for-the-little-people thing going on, but now he seems to be from another galaxy. One where they make humans out of gemstones. It is almost a shame he’s still dating Annabeth because Leo would happily set his heart on fire for a chance to be Percy’s flame. But no matter. He is allowed to appreciate without disrespecting.

His shower is quick and steaming as he tries to fight off the strange chill in the air. Soon he’s in a fresh pair of sweats and is running his fingers through damp, unruly curls to try to organise them into something that won’t resemble a bird’s nest when it dries. He doesn’t have much luck but at this point his interest is far below his luck. With a shrug in the mirror to make sure his top is on the right way- inside out, back-to-front shirts are a common occurrence- he pads across the cool wooden floors and into the lounge. There he finds Percy, sitting on the floor, back against the couch, with his nose buried in a kindle and the most adorable wire-framed glasses pushed up his nose.

Without saying anything he comes up behind him and settles himself on the couch. He knows his friend notices his presence because he shifts slightly so Leo can get comfortable and then settles back down. He sees two video games lying on the table and the controllers connected and waiting to be used. And then he glances down at the book Percy is reading, curiosity pressing on his lungs.

“What book is that?” He leans in closer, his curls brushing the balck-haired boy’s cheeks. ”Is- Is that smut?”

Instantly his friend blushes, skin turning a deep red. “N-no.” He stammers.

“It totally is.” Leo smirks, delighted by the recent discovery. “You trying to learn some tricks for Annabeth?”

“Oh my gods Valdez!” He blushes harder and it is possibly the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Well there’s no need to be embarrassed. I think it’s very cool that you’re putting in the effort to try and impress your lady. I know Annabeth would love this, she’ll see it like studying.”

Percy drops his head into his hands and groans in embarrassment. It sets Leo off cackling with glee.

“Annabeth and I aren't together anymore.” His friend mumbles.

‘Wait what?”

“Yea she went halfway across the world and we felt it was better to break up, If we find each other again then so be it.”

“Holy shit are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” The scandalous book is all but forgotten.

“No, I’m good.” When he sees Leo’s raised eyebrow he rolls his eyes. “I swear. I was a bit all over the place in the beginning but the holiday with my family and talking it over with my therapist really helped. Besides we didn’t lose all contact. She’s still my friend.”

“Okay,” He is still a little skeptical but he drops it. “Let me know if you ever want to talk.”

“Will do love.” And he goes back to reading.

But Leo sits there frozen in shock as he processes the words Percy had just said. Love, love, love. Oh gods. This little crush was turning into a big problem in his life.

“Want to play a video game now?” He asks a little too loudly.

The black-haired boy gives him a weird look but locks his Kindle and grabs the controllers from the table. “What am i beating you at Valdez?”

He scoffs, as he scrolls through the options, and then grins when he lands on the perfect one. “I’m going to absolutely crush you at Mario Kart.”

“Oof, wrong choice love. I’ve been playing this game since before i could talk.”

“Big words for a man who chooses Luigi over Princess Peach.”

“Hey don’t judge my avatar. Luigi is a beast.”

“He looks like the creepy brother who’s plumbing business is a front for the mob.”

“Good then at least you know not to mess with him.”

“Oh you are going down Jackson!”

The screen flashes with 3, 2, 1. And they’re off. Yelling obscenities at each other and slamming their little cars off the roads. Percy lands up in the ocean, and growls so loudly Leo is sure he has a stray animal in his apartment. But then a blue shell is hitting him and he’s the one making animalistic sounds, as he shoves Percy’s shoulder and zooms past Luigi’s car.

“I’m getting the family inheritance sucker!” He whoops as he crosses the finish line.

“Listen Mario. If i’m tied to the mob you’re tied to the mob so buckle up buddy, we got shit to do.” Green eyes flash, dark eyebrows knitting in faux seriousness and then they’re both keeling over with laughter.

Percy flings his head back and it hits the couch seat with a soft thud, but he’s too busy laughing to notice. Leo’s head falls forward until his curls are brushing his friend’s forehead and they are breathless with amusement.

“You’re a clown Jackson.” He whispers, still only centimeters away from beautiful brown skin. His lips a mere inch from brushing against the crease between those eyebrows

“At least i’m not Princess Peach.”

“Maybe you should be, and then you could actually win.”

“Oh you did not just say that!” He gasps, and Leo feels the intake against his knees, which are pressed to his back.

“Round two?”

“You’re on, mobster.”

And with a determined gleam in those green eyes they race into another round. And Leo thinks, maybe this is what paradise feels like. And Percy laughs as he releases a blue shell. And Leo knows this is what happiness looks like.

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

Tags:

@spoopylucy

@leydiangelo

@nishlicious-01

#valjackson #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #12 days of fanfics #percy jackson #leo valdez

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thisstableground · 3 years

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Hello! I wanna start drawing again and I'm really fond of your style, I was wondering, do you have any drawing tips? ❤️

okay sorry this took a couple days to reply to because i wanted to think about it, but i think my main advice is to divide up your artistic time into practice and art. this drawfee video on how to practice effectively explains it really well (this section is at around 13 minutes, i haven’t watched the rest of it yet bc it’s a long vid but i bet there’s other good advice in there too): practice is input, drawing is output. practice is learning new information about things you don't know how to do – you're not making a final piece.

practice is things like:

experimenting with different ways of holding the pen/pencil. holding a pen/pencil for drawing is different than how you'd hold it for writing – you want to hold it higher up, and use looser arm movements. different angles will give different effects (see here). holding a pen for a tablet is different to both a traditional pencil and a writing grip. if you have a tablet that picks up on palm contact, try getting a drawing glove so that you don't have to hold your hand at an unnatural angle. draw different lines and shapes and get used to the different effects you can make.

experimenting with different ways of moving your hand. a general rule to follow here is the bigger the shape, the more of your arm you should use to draw it. a lot of people draw primarily with just their fingers or wrists moving because they feel more control there, which is great for fine detail work but doesn't translate well to bigger sweeping shapes, and thats where you end up with wobbly lines or having to draw several scratchy lines instead of one smooth curve. if you want more confident lines you need to draw from the elbow, or the shoulder. it takes some getting used to but it's definitely worth it for keeping your drawings lively instead of stiff, and your wrist will also feel less strain.

learning to draw basic 3 dimensional shapes. boxes, cylinders, spheres. just draw a whole lot of them from different angles.

learning how to break down a complex form into basic shapes. a good way to do this is tracing – tracing has a bad rap as being stealing, but as long as you're not uploading a traced image and passing it off as your own it's a great way to train your eye to understand how forms work together, particularly for something complex like anatomy. draw over an image and break it down into basic shapes. then try to copy those shapes onto your own paper without tracing. do it over and over until you're better at it. (this method of redrawing is called iterative drawing, it's a great practice technique).

theres broader practice and then narrow. having a mix of both is good: quick sketching a whole figure some days, other days really focusing in on like “this is how a nose work”. go with what feels right in the moment.

and then the output, the actual drawing, is when all this practice pays off - these are your pieces that you work on to show people, or the things that you want to make, this is where you chase your creativity and passion. keeping them separate really helps to stop your art feeling like a chore and keeps you from overworking your full pieces (incorporating too much practice into your creative art); it also stops you stagnating or becoming frustrated with your lack of improvement (not practicing enough).

you don't have to be super strict with yourself about when to do which thing; you'll probably go through phases of doing a lot of practice, and then phases of doing a lot of drawing. if you're really struggling with one thing, that's often a sign that you need to do more of the other to balance things out.

other advice:

learn to be bad at art. this is good during practice with things like timed figure drawing or whatever where you just don't have time to make it good, but it's also good in drawing/creating: just letting yourself make “bad” or silly or quick things for the fun of it or to get an idea out. nothing has to be perfect and the earlier you learn to be bad at art the quicker you'll get good at art, and the more you'll enjoy it too

to expand on that, while tablet drawing is great, i've found that i improve a lot more rapidly when i do at least some of my practice a) on paper but also b) in pen or marker or paint, anything non-erasable. the ability to undo and erase infinitely in digital art is great for full pieces but doing your practices in pen means you're forced to be lot less precious and so you learn quicker how to be more decisive and confident with your lines because whatever you put there, you’re stuck with it.

if you're stuck, try something completely out of your comfort zone. use different materials, restrict yourself to a specific colour palette, ask for prompts, set a timer. sometimes there's just too much choice about what to do and it can be paralysing: giving yourself a totally arbitrary restriction can actually push you to be more creative and to get out of a rut (recommending more drawfee here, their random shapes challenge videos are a really good example of this)

you don't have to find your style. it'll find you. it's good to observe what you like about other people's art and try to consciously think about it, it can be really good to ty and mimic those elements yourself during your practice, but for your actual drawings you don't need to think about your style because as your ability improves it will come out naturally.

this applies mostly to traditional, but try to have your paper tilted slightly rather than flat on the desk – i prop my hardback sketchbooks up on a book. if you have your paper flat then you're more likely to get a little bit of a perspective distortion from top to bottom, especially if you're working from a reference, because you're looking at the paper from a different angle than you're looking at the reference so it can look fine when you're drawing but then when you look at it head-on it's just a little off. it also makes it easier to not hunch up over it and get a backache.

FLIP THAT CANVAS. i don't know why this works but its a time-honoured artist technique for making sure that there's reasonable symmetry especially for drawing people: draw your picture out, then flip it. you'll be able to see a lot clearer where the proportions are off. make changes, flip it again, keep doing that. it's harder with traditional media to do this but if you have some tracing paper you can turn that over, or just take a photo of your work and flip that.

a little frustration can be good if it’s motivating you, but if it's so much that you're tearing up your drawings or wanting to quit, you either need to change up your approach for a while or you need to take a bit of a break. i know people say you have to draw every day and if that works for you then do that, but personally, i don’t: i go through phases of drawing all the time then not at all for a few weeks, and that works better for me than forcing myself to work on it every day and i often come back to it a lot better because i’ve given all the practice time to actually sink in. breaks are an important part of learning, whether its hour or a day or a week of just walking the fuck away from the sketchbook and doing something else.

stretch your arms and wrists often, especially if you're drawing for several hours. here's the routine i use, it’s only ten minutes but it makes a big difference. and if you've overdone it and your hand or wrist or back is hurting, don't push through it. drawing is surprisingly physical and i’ve fucked my hands up real bad several times not listening to a slight ache and having it turn into full on RSI

i hope some of that helps! there are a lot more specifics i could get into about a million different things but the overall gist of this is that you should be aware of all the different options you have and can dabble in, and try to find a balance of learning and creating that allows you to improve without sucking all the joy out of it.

#tinywhim

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

Text

(Today marks one month since I went into quarantine alone. I’m having feelings about that, so you all get the following story. TW: I’m not psychologist but I’m pretty sure this is about depression...)

It had been a month.

Aziraphale woke up on his sofa. Ever since breaking with their sides, he and Crowley had been a bit more human. The naps were the latest development. Every once in a while, his head became so clouded he couldn’t think anymore, and the angel had to lay down and rest for a few hours.

He wasn’t sure what time or even day it was when he opened his eyes. Well, it wasn’t dark through the window. Not night, at least.

Adjusting his tie, Aziraphale sat up and reached for the book he’d put aside. There were eight books on the table, all carefully marked with a piece of paper around the middle of chapter three.

He couldn’t remember which he’d been reading. He didn’t really remember any of them.

It had been a month.

Crowley lay in bed, watching the light shift across his ceiling. It was getting warm enough that he might switch to lighter sheets soon. He’d have to do it manually.

He wasn’t looking forward to that.

The rumbling in his stomach finally coaxed him up. He’d hoped to sleep through the whole quarantine, but no luck. Ever since the Apocalypse, he couldn’t really marathon sleep like he’d used to.

On the way to the fridge, he paused to look in on his plants. They trembled, bright green but clearly wilting.

“What’s going on in here?” He snapped, but his heart wasn’t in it. No suitable threats rose in his mind, his expression barely reached mild disgust.

Grabbing the plant mister, he walked around, spritzing all of them. A dangling tendril brushed his face, and he paused, leaning against it with his eyes shut.

Sometimes they called each other. Crowley had convinced Aziraphale to start using a smart telephone right before they locked themselves in. There was a video call option, like in the science fiction movies.

“Hello? Crowley? Hello?”

“Hi, Angel. How’s things over there?”

“Hello? You aren’t moving again. Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you fine. It’s just the picture.”

“Ah, it’s going now. Things are, well, much as they’ve always been here. Yourself?”

“What? Sorry, that time it was the sound. Didn’t catch that.”

“I said it’s the same...never mind. What are you having for lunch today?”

“Dunno. I don’t... ... ... chicken...”

“Crowley? Can you hear me? Crowley?”

“...pie.”

“What was that, dear?”

“PIE!”

“No, before that.”

“Chicken?”

“Oh...never mind.”

Crowley stood in the bathroom.

He was nearly out of that hair product he liked, and now his hair was long enough he didn’t know what to do with it. He tried ordering more gel, but it was sold out online every place he looked.

He stepped into the shower. Quick blast of hot water should help wake him up, ease that stiffness in his back muscles.

The warmth of it running across his skin felt better than he could have expected. He stood in the shower until the water turned cold.

Aziraphale had dropped a plate, broken it on the floor.

Yesterday? Last week? There weren’t days anymore, just one endless stretch of time, some of it awake, some of it asleep. Sometimes in one chair, sometimes in the other.

He stepped around the ceramic shards.

When the kettle was steaming, he opened the cupboard to get a tea bag. There were seven left of the regular black tea, the cheap ones; three Earl Grey, two Darjeeling. He’d thought there was more.

When he shook himself, he couldn’t remember how long he’d been standing in front of the cupboard. He picked a bag at random and walked back to the kettle.

It was already cold.

Crowley lounged in his chair in front of the television.

He tried that new documentary everyone was talking about, but gave up when it seemed no one was going to be eaten by a tiger.

Next he tried something exciting with zombies in it, but the plot was too complicated. His mind kept wandering, and when it came back, he couldn’t remember which character was supposed to be the love interest.

Golden Girls. He had practically every episode memorized, anyway. He switched on one of his favorites, but the jokes didn’t seem as funny this time.

Tried three different baking shows. Couldn’t tell them apart.

Watched an episode of that one about cleaning your home. It didn’t spark joy.

Finally switched off the set and threw the remote in disgust.

“I know we’ve been through this before, but I’m sure it was never this bad.” Aziraphale sat back in his armchair, telephone pressed to his ear.

“Probably because it’s the first time we had to be quarantined.”

“I suppose.” He shifted, trying to get comfortable. No, that wasn’t the word. All the cushions were as soft as you could imagine, perfectly molded to his body. But it still didn’t feel right. “Do you remember that time, back in the fourteenth century?”

“I try not to.”

Aziraphale sighed. “It’s the waiting, really. I just wish I knew when it would be over.”

“Nh.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Just. Me, too.”

With all this time, Aziraphale had thought he could at least get some cleaning done.

The dishes were piled up in the sink, overflowing. He didn’t think he’d ever used so many, not ever. The sponge was buried somewhere in that pile.

His eyes were very, very wet. He wasn’t sure why. Didn’t feel sad or tired or frustrated. Didn’t feel much of anything.

With a sigh he turned, foot crunching again on the broken plate.

He stared at it. He just needed to pick up the pieces. The rubbish bin was three steps away.

Shaking his head, he walked away.

Crowley still lounged in his chair. He was full of nervous energy, but didn’t know what to do with it.

He thought about changing the sheets again. Where were the summer ones? In the closet? Cotton or silk? Only he’d have to pull off the old ones first. Where would he put them? In a pile in the corner? He had a wash machine, he could throw them right in. No laundry detergent, though. He should buy some.

Picking up his phone, he clicked over to the app for one of the online shops. It gave some purchase suggestions, then more, then more. He spent an hour clicking around, filling and emptying his cart.

Didn’t buy anything in the end. Couldn’t remember what he’d been looking for.

He still lounged in his chair.

Aziraphale rested his pen against a piece of paper. He’d kept a journal since they’d realized they were becoming more human. Tracking changes. Analyzing new experiences. Recording everything in case his memory became more human, too.

But there was nothing to write, not today, not any day recently.

What did you say when nothing ever happened? When you didn’t really feel anything different today than you felt yesterday, or the day before?

He tried to draw. He’d never been much for sketching, but now all his imagination provided was an endless series of abstract rectangles.

Azirapahle put the pen aside and leaned down, resting his cheek against the book. The rough texture of the paper felt nice, for a moment at least.

It wasn’t really a nap. Crowley was staring up at the ceiling, mind drifting, when suddenly a knock at the door nearly made him shout in surprise.

Who would possibly be out right now? He wasn’t expecting any packages or food delivered. No one else was supposed to be on the streets.

He grabbed the plant mister, just in case, and opened the door a crack.

An angel stood in the corridor outside, looking very small and pale.

“Aziraphale!”

“I...I know we said we would wait until it was over. It’s only been a month, after all. But I just...I couldn’t...”

Crowley shoved the door open the rest of the way, pulled Aziraphale against him, sank into the warmth of those soft arms, held on tight, as tight as he could, even tighter.

One of them was trembling. Maybe both.

Some time later, they lay on the bed, arms around each other, Aziraphale’s head on Crowley’s shoulder. Not even talking, just listening to the sound of breathing, of heartbeats, soaking in the feel of another warm, living body so close.

“We’re both going to be stuck here now, you know.”

“I suppose we are.” Aziraphale wiggled a little closer, until there wasn’t room for even an atom between them.

“And we’re going to be fighting. Mark my words, this time tomorrow, we’re going to be in the worst sort of row.”

“Oh, yes. Probably over your taste in music.”

“Or something stupid you said.”

“Almost certainly.” His hand found Crowley’s, squeezed it, fingers twisting together. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens prime #ineffable husbands #aziraphale and crowley #quarantine #quarantine fics #cw: quarantine #cw: depression #aziraphale #crowley

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carriagelamp · 4 years

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September Book Roundup, back-to-school edition aka The Season Of Red apparently?

Here is a selection of the books I’ve read this month. Summer is over, so the little bit of brain power I had managed to scrape together is quickly disintegrating, so enjoying the hodge podge of stories.

Binti

This was probably my favourite book that I read this month. It’s a novella I first heard about hear on tumblr and went to find a copy in my library. I have since bought the collected trilogy so I can read book two and three at my leisure because it was honestly just that friggin cool. This is exactly my flavour of scifi and I tend to be very very picky about the scifi I consume. It’s about a girl named Binti, a member of the Himba people (a real group of indigenous people from Namibia). They are a people well known for their mathematical and technical prowess, but due to their strong connection to their homeland and the earth they choose not to travel through space like so many other humans do. However, when Binti secures a position at Oomza University, the greatest university in the galaxy, she chooses to go against her family’s wishes and traditions in order to set out into space to attend. Everything is ruined though when her spaceship is attacked by a hostile alien race and everyone is killed but Binti, who must rely on all her intellect and abilities if she wants any chance at survival.

A seriously cool book with great world building – it really successfully introduces readers not only to the fictional scifi world and races of the novel but also to the culture and traditions of the Himba people. It’s a quick read, and feels like a cross between Dead Space and Tamora Pierce. Would totally recommend a read.

Fake Blood

A Canadian graphic novel. It was a goofy cute read. It’s about an awkward group of friends in middle school, and one boy with a crush on one of the girls in his class. Knowing her love for vampire stories, AJ decides, like any self-respecting middle schooler, to try to pretend he’s a vampire. Naturally nothing goes right and some things go wrong in unexpected ways. It’s funny and cute. Nothing amazing but it was a cozy evening read.

The Last Book On The Left

I’ve been listening to this podcast a lot since my friend recommended it to me and finally decided to read their book. For those that don’t know, The Last Podcast On The Left is a immaculately researched comedy podcast that’s hosted by Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks, and Henry Zebrowski, and explores the darker realms of human nature. Ghosts, paranormal, aliens, cults, and of course serial killers. In this book they collected several of their biggest name serial killer series, did some renewed research, and put together a book that is both informative, irreverent, gross, and very funny, complete with some really amazing illustrations by Tom Neely. A very cool read (and listen, if you decide to check out the podcast instead), I really love how they tell these stories without idolizing or romanticizing the people they talk about. Their humour always makes sure you know exactly how much of a pathetic loser these people are. Fantastic true crime, from someone who has never really felt the need to read about true crime before.

Midnight Sun

I won’t harp on this one, everyone is already going to firmly have their opinions here. I grew up on Twilight, I was reading them as they came out, and I still love them. Were they dumb? Oh my god yes. Did they have problems? Sure, they came out in 2005 it was part and parcel. Were they also a really fun for a thirteen year old to read? Absolutely, I don’t regret it. Sometimes teenage girls should just to get like things without being mocked.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox now (can you tell this is still a raw spot for me?) I unironically loved this book! Getting to see Edward’s perspective was really cool, and since he can read minds it essentially let you get the perspective of everyone else around him too. The Cullens family is a great set of characters so it was really cool to see more of them, and I was very impressed by how Stephenie Meyers took a YA romance she wrote in 2005 and was able to make it feel updated and more appropriate for a 2020 audience even though she couldn’t actually change any of the events themselves. So fans of Twilight, don’t be ashamed, go read Midnight Sun and have the shameless fun you deserve. Is there anymore appropriate book for the bizarre ass year that was 2020 than a return to this goofy nonsense?

The Paperbag Princess

(and Up, Up, Down, and Robert Munsch in general)

I’m back in schools so I’m back to reading children’s book! And honestly, and of you that don’t occasionally sit down and read a kids book out loud don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, Robert Munsch is a Canadian author, and one of my all-time favourite children’s authors. It surprised me to learn he isn’t as well known in the States apparently? I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but he is a Canadian staple for a good reason, his books have ridiculous premises, are specifically written to be fun to read out loud, and have beautiful, involved, and hilarious illustrations. The Paperbag Princess is one of my absolute favourites, and as a kid it was one of the first stories I had ever read where a princess is the one saving the prince… and then telling the prince to piss off when it turns out he’s a jerk. Up, Up, Down is another favourite I reread this month, because it’s just hilarious funny and makes a fantastic read aloud with kids. Some other Robert Munsch I reread this month include: Mmm, Cookies, More Pies, Ribbon Rescue, Just One Goal, and Andrew’s Loose Tooth. You just cannot go wrong, for kids or adults.

Pit Pony

Another Canadian staple while I was growing up. If you’re a young adult know who went through the Canadian elementary school system, you probably had your entire heart ripped out and stepped on by this chapter book. It’s a historical fiction that looks at the economic hardship, debt slavery, child labour, and animal abuse that was tied to coal mining in the Maritimes. Finding a copy was harder than I would have expected give how pervasive it was a decade or so back, but reading it again was a pure shot of nostalgia.

Seeking Refuge

A graphic novel written by a German-born Canadian about a Jewish girl who flees Nazi-occupied Austria by way of Kindertransport to become a child refuge in England. It follows her as she is moved from host family to host family as the war continues to pick up and gradually makes it’s way to the United Kingdom as well. It’s very poignant and the pencil-sketch illustrations are an interesting change to a lot of the graphic novels that are out right now. This story is still aimed at a younger audience, so it never gets too brutal but it still is a hard hitting story, especially with everything else going on right now.

Silver Spoon #9/10

I know I’ve talked about these books before, but my library got some more since I last read them, so I’m continuing my way through the series. It’s about a teenaged boy who, after having a breakdown from the pressure he was feeling to study and succeeded, decided not to attend an academic, urban high school, but rather to apply for an agricultural high school so he could live in the dorms, far away from his parents. The series just gets more and more heartwarming as it continues. It’s all about failure and overcoming and how worth can be measured in different ways, and about family and understanding each other and coming together… but also about the realities of farming which aren’t always very nice, especially when it comes to finances and survival. It’s written by the mangaka behind Fullmetal Alchemist but I’ll be honest… I think I like this series more. It is honestly one of my all time favourite manga series, it just has so much heart.

Ruby Finds A Worry

aka Ruby’s Worry apparently? I can’t figure out why this has more than one title. I actually read it in French not English, so for me it was Le Souci de Calie. Regardless, this was a nice little picture book for talking about worries and anxieties with children… especially with the amount of Covid stress a lot of kids are dealing with. It explains in a really nice way how talking about anxieties are often the best way to make them more manageable, and how pretending nothing is wrong can just let it grow bigger and bigger. A good explanation for kids and possible a good reminder for adults.

War of the Realms: Journey Into Mystery

I read this because the Mcelroy family wrote it so I figured Hey! Why not give it a go! And I’m glad I did. Their brand of humour was all over it, and it made the story a delight to read. I don’t follow all of Marvel’s weirdness, so I didn’t actually know most of the characters (Miles and Kate were actually the only two I was familiar with) but they do a great job of introducing the characters and making them all feel distinct and interesting. I absolutely adore the Dog of Gods (God of Dogs) who is a very very good boy. And Miles is absolutely always a delight so you can’t really lose. It’s a single book that I think is a part of a larger plotline that I have zero interest in. This book is a fine one to read though if you don’t mind jumping into the middle of the action and just getting swept along for the ride. Also Mcelroys!

Witcher Omnibus

Bleh. Absolutely not worth it. All the misogyny and Dumb Bullshit that I hate in the original books and from video games in general. Honestly, Witcher III did way better by its characters than most of these short stories. The only one worth reading in it is Curse Of Crows – that one was actually really enjoyable, probably because it was about Ciri and had an actual fucking woman on the writing team. (Seriously guys what were you thinking with Fox Children that’s literally just a story from Season of Storms but done worse. Fuck off.) If you like The Witcher, go read Curse of Crows and skip every other story in this book.

Billy Stuart: Les Zintrépides #1

Another French (Quebecois) book I read, though I believe you can get it in English as well (Billy Stuart and the Zintrepids). It’s a chapter book / graphic novel hybrid, and was honestly a fairly fun little read. It’s in a similar vein to Geronimo Stilton but done much better in my opinion. The humour was funnier, the characters felt less like caricatures, and while it still used stylized fonts it was also less intrusive and eye-strainy than the Stilton books. Also when the story suddenly pivots into the main adventure and mystery of the series? Fantastic. Was not expecting a hell-beast to appear part way through the story. Very interested in reading more.

Over all, it was cute and funny, and I can see it being a good next step when children have read their fill of the Stilton series and want something similar but possibly a bit more involved and coherent.

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rhub4rb · 5 years

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Of Birds and Bugs

AO3

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

-_-_-_-

Kim was stomping as he made his way out of the classroom, dragging a very reluctant Alix behind him.

It seemed she wanted to continue their talk with Adrien. With her fists.

Kim wanted to as well, there was no doubt about it. His whole body was screaming at him, telling him to turn around and beat some sense into the blonde boy.

But he also knew it wouldn't solve anything.

So, he dragged the ever fighting Alix with him back to their lunch table, where Max sat, working on his laptop.

When Kim brought them to a stop, Alix huffed and crossed her arms, not looking at either Kim or Max. Kim just rolled his eyes at her, turning his attention to Max instead.

"Hey Max, listen I know this might sound crazy, but-"

"You want help finding proof of Lila's deceit," Max pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a ray of light catching it, the glasses glinting and obscuring his eyes.

Kim just looked at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing, trying to find words to say.

"Only an idiot wouldn't be able to tell that Marinette was NeTi," Max said. "plus, I did some research into the history of her career, and none of Lila's claims can be backed up."

Max looked at the two, his brows furrowed.

"But I don't know how we should go about it. We have been rather... harsh, towards Marinette over the last couple of years."

All three of them looked down in shame.

"We should apologize to her," Alix said suddenly. "we can figure out the whole Lila thing later. For now, I think it'd be best if we let Mari know that we don't believe in Lila anymore."

The other two nodded.

"We should head over to the bakery once school ends, once we're there we will-"

"We're going now," Kim proclaimed, cutting Max off.

"Now? But school isn't over, we can't just-"

Kim ignored Max's qualms, lifting Max by the back of his shirt instead, Max scrambling to get his laptop in time, before it was out of his reach.

Kim threw Max over his shoulder, looking at Alix with a raised brow, as if asking if he needed to carry her too. Alix shook her head quickly, struggling and failing in trying to cover up her laughter.

The trio, or more accurately Kim and Alix, didn't pay their curious classmates any mind, Max flushing in embarrassment, only heading back into their classroom to get their book bags.

"You know, the others will be suspicious if we leave before school is over," Max noted from his position thrown over Kim's shoulder.

"Let them," was all Kim said in return.

Once they had packed up all of their stuff, they headed out of the school; not even telling the teacher, Max reminded them scandalized.

Mme. Bustier could live with three fewer students for the last couple of classes, they had more important things to take care of now.

Marinette was humming along to her practice track while she was writing down notes for her design.

She was mostly finished with the final sketch, and Marinette wondered if it would be too early to already buy the fabric she needed.

She checked her calendar for when the recording of the new music video was and decided that maybe it would be a good idea to buy the fabric now.

If Marinette had been to school that day, she probably would have asked her manager to help her buy it, but seeing as she had decided to take the day off, she had plenty of time to find the fabric she needed on her own.

Marinette caught sight of herself in her mirror and stopped in her tracks. She brought a hand up to one of her pigtails, and Tikki flew up to her shoulder, looking at Marinette quizzically in the mirror.

"Marinette?" Tikki asked curiously.

"Maybe it's about time for a change," Marinette mused.

The pigtails, for better or worse, felt like something connected to her classmates. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Marinette held fond memories of Alya brushing her hair out and tying it back up, playing and experimenting with different styles. But the new song and mini-album truly felt like the end of an era.

Marinette had called the mini-album that for a reason.

So maybe it was about time that she changed the old pigtails up for something new. She didn't want it to be a simple change though, like tying it up differently or keeping it down.

Marinette thought briefly about asking Alix for advice; her hair had always been a bit more on the wild side.

But Alix and Marinette weren't friends, hadn't been for a long time. Then again, Marinette thought as her mind drifted to the class that morning, maybe that would be changing soon.

Marinette didn't expect to actually see Alix once she took her eyes off of her reflection, and she positively shrieked as she finally realized Alix was there.

Marinette hadn't even noticed how Tikki had hid only moments before, and she looked around her room in disgruntlement. Marinette turned off the music, glaring half-heartedly as Alix started cackling.

"Sorry, sorry Marinette, I just-" Alix kept cutting herself off, trying to catch her breath while still laughing. "Oh god you should have seen your face!"

Marinette waited for Alix to have laughed it out, eyebrow raised, hands on her cocked hips.

"Is it safe for us to come up?" Kim's voice rang from downstairs.

Alix looked at Marinette, as if to ask for permission, and Marinette very confusedly nodded.

"Yeah it's alright, I just, the look on Marinette's face was priceless."

Marinette shrunk in on herself, as if to protect herself from Alix and what Alix could possibly say to make the day worse.

"Wait- no- I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that-"

Kim came up to the room, followed closely by Max.

"We've hardly even stepped foot inside and you've already scared her?" Max asks in disbelief.

"I didn't mean to, I swear!"

Marinette looked at the trio with furrowed brows, slowly uncurling from herself.

"Why are you all here?" Marinette's voice shook, and she reminded herself to calm down before an Akuma would come.

It was quiet for a few moments, as the three of them looked at each other, probably trying to figure out who should tell her.

Kim was the one who spoke up.

"We know that Lila is a liar."

Marinette froze, eyes wide and mouth agape as she looked at her classmates.

"What..." Her voice was faint, and Marinette wasn't entirely sure she actually said anything.

"We figured it out after this morning," Kim pressed on. "We knew that you were NeTi, and Lila clearly made a jab at you. We looked into it more during class and..."

They all looked down.

"We are so sorry, Marinette," Alix said. "We should have believed you before when Lila first came but we-"

Alix was cut off as Marinette flung herself at the three, crushing them in a hug.

"Thank you, thank you so much," she sobbed.

The trio looked at each other, over Marinette, before they all returned the hug.

"I've missed you all so much," her voice cracked. "I didn't know what to do."

Kim started making shushing noises, hoping to calm Marinette down. Maybe she was crying happy tears right now, but he was still scared an Akuma would come.

It took a bit, but eventually, Marinette was coherent enough to guide them all over to her chaise, where she took a seat.

Alix sat down next to her, and so did Max, Kim taking a seat on the floor in front of them.

The trio shared a look before turning their attention back to Marinette.

"We also know that Adrien is in on it."

Marinette froze. She looked at all of them, seeing the question on all of their minds. She sighed.

"It... It's complicated." Marinette settled on.

"Com- Marinette he knew and didn't do anything to help you!" Kim exclaimed.

"We just... didn't want Lila to get akumatized again." Marinette looked down in her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

"He's letting Lila manipulate all of us," Alix said.

"I know..." Marinette whispered back. "I didn't want to keep quiet about it but..."

Alix wrapped an arm around Marinette's shoulder, pulling the girl closer to herself.

"It's okay-"

"But it's not!" Marinette snapped, pulling herself away from Alix's grasp. "Everyone is fighting all the time! Nino and Alya broke up, same with Ivan and Mylene!"

The others looked down, thinking about everything that had happened, how the class slowly had fallen apart. How so much of it had been blamed on Marinette, even if the girl had nothing to do with it.

"It's not your fault, Marinette," Max suddenly said.

That was what finally broke the dam. Every dirty look, every mean message. All of it had always come down to one thing.

"It's not your fault, Marinette."

Marinette cried.

Her breathing hitched. Tears welled up. It was as if something finally snapped inside her, and the tears started to trickle down as Marinette started to hiccup, and wail, and sob.

Marinette's face was red, her nose was running, and she screamed her heart out.

The others looked, stunned, as their usually composed and cheerful class president broke apart in front of them.

Alix was the first one to snap out of her stupor, and she was quick to pull Marinette into a bone-crushing hug, swaying them both in a steady rhythm whilst shushing the class president.

Max and Kim looked around in alarm, checking and keeping an eye out for an Akuma, both letting out relieved sighs when they saw none. Hawkmoth must not have been active at the moment.

Marinette slowly calmed down, the trio waiting with bated breath for her to speak, only for Alix to realize the girl had fallen asleep in her arms.

It had taken several calls, but Bruce Wayne finally managed to finalize a class trip for Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He wasn't sure what had driven him to help the idol with organizing the sudden class trip, but before he knew it, he was spending a good hour or two the Monday after his short trip to Paris, on making phone calls and arrangements.

Maybe it was the dim spark in the young performer's eyes that had made him act. It was like she had been present the entire night, yet far off, always thinking of something else.

Or perhaps, it was her dedication to making a good class trip, despite already being busy with a number of other things. He wondered briefly if she even slept at night.

His sons would more than likely be curious as to what a french class was doing in Gotham, touring various Wayne buildings, but Bruce thought that it might be better to keep the fact that he had invited NeTi to Gotham a secret.

Perhaps he could surprise Dick, Tim and Jason with their favorite idol when the class came.

Still, Bruce had his doubts about inviting the class. From what he had heard from his three eldest sons, it wasn't often that the idol talked about any particular friends, and a quick look at said idol's social media proved that there were no pictures either.

Maybe he could ask Alfred to look further into the situation later.

He looked over the calendar with everything the class would be doing on their two week trip to Gotham.

The first week was dedicated to touring Wayne buildings and different museums, the second week was more of a free week, of course with the Friday scheduled international talent show that he knew Marinette was guest performing in.

The international talent show had been linked to the charity gala he had attended in Paris, and had been organized by the biggest sponsors and doners, Bruce being among them.

It was another reason he had decided to invite the french class. Marinette would have gone to Gotham soon anyways, so it felt like an opportune moment to do so.

Bruce had talked to Jagged Stone before about the rockstar's talented "niece" and he had heard his sons talk about her plenty too. From what he had heard, it hardly seemed like the girl ever got a break, something Alfred had pointed out was rather concerning.

Maybe Gotham wasn't the safest place for the girl or her classmates, but Bruce had hope that the trip would turn out well in the end.

Now he just had to get back to work and see how things progressed with the french class once they were actually there.

-_-_-_-

@ozmav @skyel0ve @kuroko26 @shizukiryuu @fangirl-food-feelings @driftingmoonlitpetals @spicybelladonna @izzynuggets @thebookwormfairy @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @melicmusicmagic @minightrose @graduatedmelon @awkwardturtlez @sizzling-fairy-oil @thornangelic727 @royalchaoticfangirl @vixen-uchiha @mewwitch @my-name-is-michell @mikantsume @imfreakingmagical @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @constancetruggle @kae690 @resignedcatservant @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @drama-queen-supreme @derpingrainbow @captainmac6 @k-rena-k @lunar-wolf-warrior @friedchickening @fandomfan315 @fanboy7794 @yin-390 @unholykrow @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @ayuchan07 @seraphichana @justanothersepticeyefan @politelyvicious @roseinbloom02 @uncompressed-boi @cadencehood @kaleigh-girlonfire

#maribat #maridami #daminette #idolnette #of birds and bugs #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug

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seonces · 4 years

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( park jimin , 25 , cis man , he/him ) have you seen habaek seo down in st. landry again? i heard they’re one of the assassins for the matthieus now. they’ve been so vengeful and prying lately, it’s no wonder. i’ll sure miss when they were compassionate and sincere. i wonder if they’re going to stop listening to too darn hot by ella fitzgerald now, or if empty pockets and popped bubblegum will still announce ‘em.

ooc. hello! i’m deni ( she/them, gmt+9 ) my favorite things to do are cuddling my girlfriend and playing uno. below are some rough sketches of my first character, baek, that i’ll likely be editing constantly. please let me know if you have any questions <3 rosalind’s will be up soon, as well as a wanted connections page. looking forward to writing with you all!

preferred name / nickname. baek

sun sign. leo ( exact date of birth tba )

sexual attraction. "gay” ( pansexual )

romantic attraction. "gay” ( panromantic )

primary occupation. fashion designer, dressmaker

secondary occupation. assassin for the matthieus

strengths. loyalty, security, cognizance

weaknesses. greed, indulgence, fickleness

concept. baek is flashy hair and eyes watching you from the center of the room. babbling about his problems to a bound n’ gagged man because dead men tell no tales while insisting everything’s fine to your face. a fluid walk around the room, all quiet confidence and coy arrogance. pricked fingers. a grit smile and murder in the eyes when he’s criticized. the desire of caviar and fine whiskey, but a weakness for boxed wine and sloppy burgers. running on caffeine and catnaps. a smoke break just to breathe. sharp eyes and a sharper smile. a stare that hits harder than blacklights.

a summary. son of the disgraced and hunted — some low-level soldier with more courage than brains and a gambling problem that sent him to an early grave. could’ve taken baek with him, if not for the sympathetic eyes of sapphos reborn and her eager-to-please wife. given mothers any kid would dream of, baek unlearned years of a strict, overbearing childhood with adoration, tender comfort, and a whole lot of spoilage.

baek traded plastic spoons for silver and didn’t look back — until that past came to haunt him. his birth father never paid off his gambling debts, and once baek turned twenty-one, he was held liable for paying back the family every cent. baek joined ranks as a soldier, but worked his way to a higher-paying ( and less degrading [in his opinion] ) position. earning a few debts of his own along the way, baek’s stayed with the matthieus longer than anticipated, but it’s not as if a better opportunity has come along. yet . . .

quick facts.

skilled dancer. better at hapkido, though.

treats assassinations like an office job. he isn’t called to task much because of his grin and bear it sort of mentality, but he’s thorough and clean and efficient enough to make people happy

loves the ~seduction~ aspect of getting to know his targets and develops elaborate backstories of his ~characters~ before the ol’ wham-bam

terrible at video games but somehow key smashes his way to victory

very close with his moms. one mother was a jazz darling and business mogul, while the other is a retired weapons specialist for the matthieus. ( they’re an adorable arranged marriage turned true love story ) they’ve moved from new orleans to travel internationally

trying to be ~independent. but, he has a hopeless problem with money and budgeting. #struggling to keep the business afloat

a leo man. enough said.

BROKE because he’s trying to live his dream

designs: unisex and agender flapper-insp’d. beaded blouses, silky jackets, plays with silhouettes and shapes. runs of out a warehouse his mothers pay for. hand sews everything. dropped out of design school, but had a successful show last season so crossing fingers he keeps it going ( O..O )

potential connections.

exploiting his debt situation ( birth father’s or his own ), “family” from the matthieus who are familiar with his mothers, potentially helped half-raise / half-train him, assassinated his father years ago

big sibling figures. aunt / uncle vibes. the “cool cousin.”

enemies of his mothers ( weapons specialist and daughter of a political scion ), relatives of a few assassinations baek took part of

fellow mob brats who grew up in the lifestyle and definitely had A Time in all that money and revelry. sort of have a love/hate relationship with each other as that up-and-coming generation of future leaders

an old fling or two, a current interest. teenage sweethearts. first love that failed but isn’t forgotten.

best frienddddddd they may even live together in a swanky apartment. someone who’s trying to teach him how to budget ( and failing ). his peace of mind. someone he’s close to but will feel betrayed when he realizes they’re a part of an enemy group :/ jumpstart those trust issues

#renn.intro

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blurry-fics · 5 years

Text

Sketches

Pairing: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1491

Request: Hi Kae! Could you write sth where Tyler accidentally finds out that his s.o. can draw, but hardly ever does so cause of insecurities? Thanks 💛 -Anonymous

Author’s Note: I haven’t really written many fics set during the hiatus, so this was super fun to do! Hopefully all of you enjoy it as well :) (gif credit)

“Ok, what do you think of something like this?”

Tyler slid his laptop over so that it was now sitting in front of you. On the screen was a listing for a plain, brown jacket, complete with some large pockets and a nice zipper right down the center. You and Tyler had spent all morning looking through various clothing websites, seeking out inspiration and potential outfits for the next set of music videos. Since it was the first introduction the fans would get to the new era, as well as the end of the hiatus, Tyler was really putting the pressure on himself.

“Would you wear it just like that?” you asked.

“Well, no. It would probably have some yellow on it and we could dirty it up a bit to make it look worn,” Tyler said, absentmindedly pointing at the jacket. “I don’t think this is it.”

He slowly closed the laptop and buried his face in his hands, letting out a long sigh as he did so. You reached over and lightly rubbed at his back, making sure to give a little extra attention to his shoulders. Between finishing up the album and preparing to end the hiatus in a few short months, Tyler had been extra stressed lately. You were doing your best to support him in any way that you could.

“It’s like I have this whole vision in my head and then I can’t pinpoint, what, a jacket? It’s ridiculous,” he continued.

“Sometimes having a vision can make it harder because you’re looking for something that might not even exist.”

“I know. It just feels like I haven’t found anything that’s even close to what I’m imagining.”

“Ok, I think I have an idea,” you said. “Just wait here for a second.”

You left Tyler sitting at the dining table with a confused expression on his face as you ran off to the office. When you returned with a piece of paper and a pencil in hand, he had already gone back to scrolling through the endless pages of utility jackets that the website had to offer.

“What’s this idea of yours?” he asked as you sat back down next to him.

“I want you to close your eyes.”

“Eyes are closed,” he nodded.

“Ok, now picture the outfit in your head. I want you to think of all the little details and everything.”

Tyler thought for a moment. “Ok.”

“Now describe it to me in as specifically as you can.”

While Tyler described the outfit, you sketched it all onto the sheet of paper you had grabbed from the office. It had been awhile since the last time you did some sketching, a combination of never having the free time to do it and letting your insecurities get in the way when you did, but all of your old techniques came right back to you as soon as the pencil hit the paper. Keeping up with Tyler’s descriptions was a breeze, and you even managed to sketch in his face just for fun.

“Then you add the yellow tape over the shoulders and I think that’s it.”

“Hold on just a second,” you said, drawing out the end of the word as you quickly sketched in some tape. “Ok, do you want to take a look?”

“Yeah.”

Tyler slowly blinked his eyes open and leaned over so that he could see the piece of paper sitting in front of you. His eyes immediately went wide and he pulled it closer to him, letting his eyes roam over your haphazard sketch.

“Y/N,” he said plainly. “You drew this?”

“Yes.”

“Just now?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, this is amazing.”

You felt your cheeks getting hot from Tyler’s obvious impression with your artistic ability. It was never something you had really made a fuss about drawing attention to, mostly because you had never entirely convinced yourself that you were living up to the hype other people gave you.

“It’s just a sketch,” you shrugged. “Nothing special.”

Tyler had fully picked up the paper now. “Nothing special? Y/N, we’ve been dating for four years and I had no idea you could draw like this. If I hadn’t listened to you sketch this as I was speaking, I wouldn’t have believed you did it in ten minutes. Look! That’s me!”

“Yeah, that’s you,” you laughed.

“Also you totally nailed the outfit design. That’s almost exactly what I was picturing in my head.”

“I thought getting a sketch of the picture in your head would help you, and everyone else, find something that resembled what you wanted for the video. If nothing else, we can put a little more manpower into finding it now that we all have a clear vision.”

“This was a great idea,” Tyler nodded. His eyes were still glued to the sketch. “Thank you so much.”

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“I’m happy to help, Ty.”

Tyler looked over the sketch for a little while longer before he finally set it back down. “Do you, um, have any sketchbooks or anything? I would love to see more of your art, Y/N.”

Now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows in shock. There had only been a small handful of times in your life when people asked to look through your sketchbooks.

“Yeah, I have some in the closet upstairs.”

“Alright, let’s go-”

“Hey, hey,” you said, reaching out and putting a hand on Tyler’s arm. “Why don’t we get through the rest of the outfit ideas you have in your head and then we can go look through my sketchbooks.”

Tyler slowly sat back down in his chair, “Yeah, that’s probably not a bad idea.”

So that’s what you did. Tyler described another handful of outfits to you, all of which you sketched down onto a piece of paper. Each time, he was just as impressed with the outcome. You were also enjoying seeing a small piece of Tyler’s universe come together.

When you had finally gotten through all of Tyler’s ideas, you led him upstairs to the closet where you had tucked your sketchbooks away and laid them all out. You sat cross-legged on the floor with Tyler and watched as he slowly flipped through their pages, making comments on nearly every sketch or full-size drawing that you had done. No matter how many times you tried to brush off his compliments, Tyler insisted that they were sincere.

“I swear I’ve never seen you draw once during the entirety of our relationship,” Tyler said as he flipped through one of your high school sketchbooks. “Until today, that is.”

“I stopped drawing as much once I got out of high school. Sometimes I would draw if I got bored while you were out at meetings, but even those moments were few and far between.”

Tyler looked up at you, “Why did you stop?”

“I wasn’t happy with what I was creating and it slowly started to become more of an obligation than a hobby. I never really had a reason to keep doing it, either.”

“Why did you hate what you were creating? These are beautiful.”

“You know how it is,” you sighed. “Sometimes you just hate everything you create with no real reason for it. Not to mention that I always had friends who were better than me, so I convinced myself that my art would never live up to the things they were creating.”

“You can’t compare art, though,” Tyler frowned. “Everyone has their own unique style and vision that could never be compared to someone else’s. You’re the only person that can make art quite like this, Y/N.”

“I know, trust me, I’ve heard it a million times. I would love to get back into art, it’s just hard to overcome that wall of insecurity.”

Tyler gently closed the sketchbook he was holding and set it back on the top of the pile.

“Well, I would love to help you get back into it however I can. Your art is beautiful and worth sharing and I would hate to see you shut it away because you fail to see the beauty in it.”

Your mouth slowly curled up into a smile. “Thanks, Ty. That means a lot.”

He held his arms out and you happily accepted his hug, making sure to press a quick kiss to his cheek as you did so. You hadn’t expected Tyler to be so supportive of your art, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy that he did. Drawing had been a huge part of your life, and you were glad that you had the opportunity to bring it back with plenty of people to support you.

“You know, there’s some more concepts I have that I would love to see on paper, if you’re up for the challenge.”

You smiled and kissed him again, “Absolutely.”

#tyler joseph #tyler joseph x reader #tyler joseph fluff #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots fluff #tyler joseph imagine #tyler joseph drabble #tyler joseph fanfiction #twenty one pilots x reader #twenty one pilots imagine #twenty one pilots drabble #twenty one pilots fanfiction #fluff #skeleton clique #blurry-fics #gn!reader

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szopenhauer · 4 years

Text

How was your day?: it wasn’t good.

Would you ever try to count to 5,000 for $5,000?: I’d try

When is the last time you took a picture of yourself?: last days

When did you last take a shower?: I’m going to take a bath soon

What song are you listening to?: The Weeknd - Blinding Lights

Last sentence you said aloud?: not sure what was last

What is the point of scented pens/pencils/erasers? ppl like to smell stuff I guess Do you buy/wear band-aids with cartoon characters on them? they’re usually not sticking well enough What do you think your reaction would be upon entering the White House? meh, they could spend those money better by helping ppl, nobody needs such a big house - president or not, we’re not in medieval times and guards would have less to do

Do you buy and wear crazy looking socks? I would like to Would you run down the street wearing a tutu, fishnets, & flippers? topless? for how much tho Have you ever grown your own sea monkeys or dinosaurs? nope

Did you ever own an Etch-a-Sketch? yes, I loved it so much, I miss it Do/did you ever have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling? on my wall and furniture, I still have some left Does your house have an attic? it does Have you ever gone white-water rafting? no and don’t want to Does your grandma wear an apron when she cooks? she did How often do you need “me” time? all the time? :x Does it bother you that almost everything is done on computers now? sometimes, a little bit Have you ever gotten stuck in a revolving door? I haven’t What animal do you most resemble while eating? dunno but it reminds me of that yt video - how animals eat their food lmfao Would you play Jumanji, if given the chance? someone already plays it this year

Do you text/call while going to the bathroom? I might but prefer not to Do you always make sure your cell phone is charged before going somewhere? and powerbank too Did you get Happy Meals just for the toys as a kid? only once, I got Eeyore that I still own Have you ever seen your parents cry? of course

Do you often shift blame towards others? usually it’s other way around? Do you ever feel like you’re smarter than your boss? I don’t have a job Your very first best friend: Is he/she STILL your best friend? not counting my family - no Have you ever witnessed a crime? minor What’s the coolest personalized license plate you’ve ever seen? I saw a bunch :D Do you write grey or gray? grey, it doesn’t have 50 shades

If you make surveys, how do you decide about its title? I don’t add titles as you can see, that’s stupid

When are you going back to school? never?

What do you do when you tell a really bad joke? my jokes are so bad that they’re good if you know what I mean ;)

Do you like having a huge group of friends or would you rather have few close friends? few close

Do you watch the TV Show Skins? If so, who’s your favorite character? fragments

Can you get a strike at bowling? I never tried bowling but would like to

Do you swallow chewing gum? wtf

Were you into the Beanie Baby craze? nah Would you ever wish to ride a dolphin? nope, I’m not fond of dolphins Do you ever watch the news just for the weather forecast? my parents did and that was dumb, I don’t like/believe in weather forecats If your remote was missing, where is the most likely place you’d find it? in dad’s stuff Ever considered the thought that kangaroos technically have fanny packs? hehe

When was the last time you blew bubbles? not that long time ago from what I remember Did the last doctor’s office you were in have a crappy magazine selection? it did indeed Have you been to a restaurant where they cook the food in front of you? bakery only The last ball you threw was a… (baseball, basketball, etc.) childish ball for my niece Have you seen how much candidates for president are willing to spend for their campaign? it’s insane Have you ever caught a friend snooping in your room? I have and that’s why I am afraid of leaving ppl alone in my room Quick! Name the longest word starting with the letter ‘J’ you can think of: jurisdiction was the first that came to my mind Do you still write letters to people, even though there’s e-mail now? no longer but not because of e-mail’s existence

Have you ever taken a survey with a friend, listing both answers?: I tagged my friends in the past

Do you know a guy who has hair longer than yours?: not currently

What color was the last cup you drank out of?: it’s a llama mug (minty color)

If you’re in school, what do you do to fill in time between classes?: there was never enough time for me

Where was the last place you got lost?: mall or park

When was the last time you had cheesecake?: this year

When you last shed tears, was it because of a person?: partially

Other than yours, whose house did you last fall asleep at?: John and P

Have you ever had a significant other whose parents didn’t like you?: looks like it

What’s so unique about your computer?: what’s on it - pictures/memes/documents

What’s one thing you have never done? I didn’t do lots of stuff and don’t want to many of them actually

What is one trend you wish you have been a part of? I’m not into trends in general

Do you enjoy reading fanfictions? About who? Or do you write fanfictions, too? nah

What is something you own that you wish was in your favorite color? it’s not that important

Is there someone from your past that you wish you had dated? used to think that way, no longer

Can you snap with both your hands? If not, which hand can you snap with? both but not every single time

Do you like cosplays? I tried cosplays but it’s not for me and I’m a bit traumatised by it due to experiences from the past, they remind me of someone and not only so I prefer not to follow/look at those related to anime mostly

If you were to participate in one, what/who would you dress up as? I’d dress up as characters I relate to

Do you sometimes answer surveys with “Idk”/“Idr” because you’re too lazy? I just realized that I don’t, wow, I used to do that all the damn time

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? am not

Have you ever acted like a bitch and used PMS as an excuse? I don’t use PMS nor period as an excuse as it’s actually a stereotype and shouldn’t be an argument besides painful/uncomfy/annoying physical sensations and being unable to do some stuff due to that fact

Do you know someone who brushes their teeth in the shower all the time? *shrug*

Have you ever tried doing that? Did you like it? Why or why not? tried and it’s not that good

Are you patient when it comes to instructing others? I’m not, sorry...

Do you listen to Panic At The Disco? nah

Name a band/artist you like that isn’t that popular.: I like many bands/artists that seem not very popular

Can you lift your significant other (your best friend if you’re single)?: can’t :(

Have you ever lost a pet you were attached to?: we had to give away

You can read minds; Whose mind do you snoop around in first?: hmm...

Do you ever talk to inanimate objects?: stuffed animals, kettle and fridge

Have you ever tried to fold a piece of paper more than 7 times?: possibly

Your best friend needs a kidney to survive; Do you give them one of your’s?: oh my...

Your brother breaks into your house; Do you press charges?: ... ghost?

Would you rather have a huge cat or a tiny dog?: tiny dog <3

Do you use your hands when you talk to emphasize what you are saying?: do I?

Are you afraid to ask for help when you know that you need it?: depends

Should adopted kids be allowed to find their birth parents if they want to?: I guess

You’re writing a novel; Is it horror, mystery, romance, etc.?: sci-fi/fantasy

Will you usually admit it when you’ve made a mistake? would say so

Does your name begin with a B, L, R, or T?: Z

Could you go a day without texting?: but she couldn’t and we don’t want to

Do you have a step-parent?: I don’t

If so, do you get along with them?: -

Do you have any nieces or nephews?: one

Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform?: one of jobs that I had

Who is your 23rd phone contact and how do you know them?: I don’t have this many

If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say?: try me

Where is your dad right now?: sleeping

Are there any writing utensils close to you? several

Look up, what do you see? ceiling

Do you have a bigger upper or lower lip? lower

Do you have any screen names with spelling errors? luckily not

Open the nearest drawer and tell me what’s inside it: I know it’s empty, don’t have to open it

How many other rooms can you currently see into? my door is closed

Do you need to take the trash out? already done

Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? we don’t have a cat anymore

Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? nah

How many days have you been wearing those clothes? 1

Do you like listening to 60’s music? some songs

Can you move your nose? many ways

Can you wiggle your ears? my dad can

How many songs have you downloaded this week? I don’t download songs

Would you rather be a pirate or robot? robot, can’t robot be a pirate tho?

Would you rather be a ghost or a zombie? ghost

Have you ever considered living in a bomb shelter? I’d be scared to live underground

If I gave you a piano and told you hit middle c, could you? nooo

do you think it’s weird for someone to have never tried soda? not really

which floor of your house/building are you on now? there’s basement under me and attic above me

would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (or have you?) I would, haven’t yet

what are your thoughts on reincarnation? (have you ever read up about it?) it’s possible

does your home have a balcony/deck/porch? balcony

how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? anxious

do you have an interesting passport? I don’t have a passport

what happens to your old clothes? I donate them, give them to ppl I know, reuse them, sell them etc.

who supports you financially? my parents

if you wanted to go to the movie cinema, how would you get there? walking then by bus then walk again

have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend or a friend’s sibling? minor

do you know much about feng shui? (do you use it?) not much, I don’t use it

what’s your favorite spot to read? librocubicularist

did you know that buddha is not considered a god to buddhists? ok

do you save tickets from movies, etc.? saved some

without looking him up, who was jim morrison? vocalist

do you have a nervous habit? several

would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? nah

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