#was originally gonna draw this 2 years ago but. better late than never

[hellspawnmotel]

I can't think of a nutcracker pun

#deltarune #gaster #kris dreemurr #susie deltarune #noelle holiday #spade king #the nutcracker #art tag #i dont think clara and the prince's relationship HAS to be romantic (i was originally going to make them noelle and spamton) #but if you want this to be kralsei it can be #was originally gonna draw this 2 years ago but. better late than never #(edit) i missed coloring a couple things on noelle TWICE this is why you take a minute to look over everything even when youre tired #ALSO I FORGOT TO TAG #RALSEI #crossover

[therenlover]

The Boy With The Easel (A Young Artist!Helmut Zemo x Reader Oneshot)

(Hey! If you end up enjoying this fic, it’s the first chronological part of a new fun expanded AU I’ve created with @creme-bruhlee​! Their fic Bliss is part of the same timeline and takes place about a year after this one, so you should check it out!!!)

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Tags: Meet Cute, College AU, First Meetings, Coffee Date, Artist!Zemo, Embarrassment, Awkward College Kids Falling In Love

Rating: T

Warnings: Very Vague Mention of Sexual Content, Swearing, Zemo Says The Word Daddy In Reference To His Father and The Reader Thinks It’s Kinda Hot

Word Count: 7000~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3!

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                                    The University of Novi Grad

                                                 Fall 1996

Mornings in Novi Grad could be beautiful if you knew what to look for.

Sokovia was… different from America in many ways. From the language to the scenery, you often found yourself adrift in the strangeness of it all. There had been nothing quite as old as the buildings in the historical district of Novi Grad back home, no towering grey behemoths serving as a reminder of a bygone fight against Soviet invasion in the memories of your childhood. Still, though, there was beauty in the strangeness nonetheless.

From your tiny room in the Helena Lyudmila International Scholar’s dorm, for instance, you had a perfect view of a large campus courtyard hosting a statue of the donor by the same name. She was some royal who had invested in education a few hundred years ago, and by the looks of her metal likeness, she had been quite pretty. The sight of her shining in the early morning sun was one of the things that made uprooting your whole life seem worth it in the end, no matter how silly that seemed.

There were other small comforts that you had found beauty in during your first month attending your prestigious university, too.

You found beauty in the way the sunlight streamed over the rooftops like the opening to an Oscar-winning film. In the sound of traffic below and the overcast skies above. Sandwiches from corner stores, wildflowers growing in the median of the road, cups of the worlds best black coffee served steaming by scowling attendants at the cafe; Everywhere there was something small and kind and just familiar enough to relish in, more than able to distract you from the stress of living hand-to-mouth in a country where you didn’t even know the language. It made it all worth it.

That being said there was something else too…

Someone else to be specific.

The campus tended to run like clockwork. The same groups of students would walk past your window to their classes, the same professors would get their coffee and lunch at the little cafe across the square, and every weekday morning at 8 am on the dot, easel boy would set up his palette and canvas and paint the same bustling street.

He was talented, that you couldn’t deny. Even from the 6th floor, which was a considerable distance away, it was possible to admire the detailing and consistency with which he painted. His talent wasn’t when kept you captive at your window in the morning, though. Though you were sure his art was beautiful, he himself was a thousand times more stunning.

All dark eyes and dark hair and dark clothes, he parted crowds with his piercing gaze alone. He was always dressed like the protagonist of some awful artsy film. Massive argyle sweaters, untucked button-ups, corduroy jackets, and flare bottomed pants that must have survived his father’s wardrobe from the ’70s… his style was as close you could get to atrocious while still being impeccable as possible, and that wasn’t even getting started on the smudged black liner always present under his persistent gaze. You had never had the pleasure (or embarrassment for that matter) of meeting him in person, but you were sure that you would have had the same awed and slightly frightened reaction if you ever did. He could have been plucked entirely from the pages of some awful romance novel.

You were well and truly smitten with the idea of him.

If you looked at your morning routine through the eyes of a stranger, you’d consider yourself odd for your strange obsession with him, but you didn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t an obsession. You never overstepped your bounds. He was simply pleasing to look at and so you did. That didn’t constitute as obsessive, right?

Even if it did, you weren’t causing any harm.

Easel boy, as you had come to refer to him, was simply a tool you used to ground yourself in your new and frightening environment. Nothing more. If you ever met him, you would surely hate him from the short interactions you’d seen him have with strangers. They never ended well. He would remain an unattainable, attractive ideal in your mind until he eventually faded away into a funny memory you’d share with your kids one day.

Until then, though, you would watch him from your window before your morning classes and refused to feel guilty about it. So, that was that, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

On the morning in question, you had woken up a little late and in a foul mood. In preparation for a test in your foundations of algebra course you had spent the better part of the night pouring over formulas while your upstairs neighbor’s bed slammed repeatedly into the wall and floor. Though you were sure they were having an excellent time, you were most definitely not. It all culminated in you missing your original alarms and despite the fact that your first class started at 10, you were exhausted, furious, and not looking forward to missing breakfast to finish the assigned reading you had put off the night before. The only thing keeping you from throwing in the towel and just giving up was the promise of seeing the painter.

So, when he arrived for the day at 8 am sharp, you were positioned at the ledge by your window, textbook in hand with a mug of instant coffee at your right. It was like a breath of fresh air.

As usual, he retrieved a small pack of cigarettes from the back of his eternally paint-stained jeans only to bring one to his lips and light it quickly. He always smoked before he worked, and just like always, he took an extra cigarette from the pack to tuck behind his ear for later. Then, he got to work setting up his easel and the small stool where he set his palette.

Pulling tubes of acrylic, brushes, and pencils from his well-worn messenger bag, easel boy flipped out the kickstand without any problem and set his thick, pre-primed canvas on the worn metal. You watched in fascination. Art had always seemed so unattainable to you. Instead, you were drawn to the more academic. The man before you, though, created beauty with an ease that had evaded you all your life, and it had you both jealous and entirely intrigued. Slowly, you reached down to take a sip of your coffee as you let your eyes drift back to your reading.

Learning about ancient Babylon was far less interesting than watching him, though.  

When you next looked out the window and away from your work the handsome artist had created his base sketch already. How did he do it so fast? You assumed it was practice. He had been drawing the same 3 buildings every weekday morning for at least a month, so after a while, it must have been second nature to measure out the lines and put things into perspective. You smiled. He tended to have that effect on you.

The process was repeated until a little before 9:30. You would read a few paragraphs then look up to watch the painting progress from a sketch to a full-fledged work of art. It was good today from what you could see. The colors were a bit more muted than usual, but that was only on account of the awful, dreary overcast sky that threatened to dump rain on the city at any time. Overall, you would have considered it a masterpiece. Easel boy didn’t seem to think the same.

He regarded the painting with a sort of begrudging satisfaction that bordered on disappointment before he pulled the second cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and began the process of packing up his materials. You finished the last of your coffee watching him do so. Smoking, well, smoking tobacco at least, had always been a vice you had avoided and yet you often wondered what it would feel like to take a drag of one of his cigarettes after it had been between his lips. Then, the magic lifted.

He folded up the flimsy easel, tucked it away with his materials back into his messenger bag, hoisted the stool under one arm and the painting under the other before taking off at a brisk clip down the street away from your window. You watched him until he was out of sight.

You were snapped from your concentration by a knock at your door.

“Y/N,” a heavily accented voice called, sending you scrambling for your bag, “If you are not outside in the next 15 seconds I will break down your door,”

Shit.

“Coming, Sasha!” You wailed. It took about 10 of those seconds to grab your backpack and shove your textbook inside, an extra 2 to check your appearance in the mirror- you looked slightly disheveled, but it was the best you were gonna do after the night you’d had. Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing anything important. You didn’t need to be dressed for a date -and you were opening the door for a quick save at the 14th second. Your door was safe for another day.

Out in the hall waited Sasha Balandin, arms crossed and grey eyes piercing in the flickering light of the terrible overhead fluorescents. As a fellow international student, you had become fast friends with Sasha. He was a little rough around the edges, and definitely didn’t take your bullshit, but he was a rare friend. “I have been waiting for 10 minutes,” he griped. You tried your best to look apologetic. “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” You asked, closing and locking your door behind you as you began walking down the hallway.

Sasha huffed. “Do not pretend you were not too busy ogling that painter in the courtyard to hear me knocking on your door,” His Russian bluntness was on full display now as you shook your head in mock disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that!”

“It is not an accusation if it is true,”

“There’s no way you know for a fact that I was watching him again,”

“But you were. This happens every week,”

You sighed, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I was,”

Taking the stairs in twos, Sasha sighed. “You are too soft, Y/N. Besides, you have said so often that he seems like an asshole. Why do you continue to get all mushy at him out the window if this is the case?”

“Because… well, because…” for a moment, you floundered in search of an answer that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete freak, but you found that there really wasn’t one. It came down the one small factor. “He’s just really hot, okay?”

The look Sasha gave you could have killed. He kept his mouth shut, though, choosing to let his silence shame you more than anything else did. It worked. For the entire trip down the stairs and the mile-long walk to your lecture hall, you felt the weight of shame heavy on your shoulders. Or maybe it was just your backpack. You didn’t know which you’d prefer. He did start speaking again eventually, going on about some party you had missed in favor of studying, but the feeling never left. Even as you sat down for your lecture it was still at the forefront of your mind. In fact, you were so busy thinking about your crush on easel boy and the problems with it that you barely paid attention to the professor’s rehashing of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Your error only hit when the professor flipped the PowerPoint to the final slide.

“Before you go, I want to remind you that you have a paper on the importance of Enkidu in the Epic is due at the beginning of class this Friday. The details and requirements should be listed in your syllabus. Class dismissed,”

Fuck.

Friday was only two days away.

You were so screwed.

The problem was, you didn’t have a spare copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh just lying around your dorm room. Usually that wouldn’t have been an issue, the professor for your current history course used English for her slide because her particular history course was specifically for first-year international students. Unfortunately for you, though, you hadn’t been taking notes. Instead, you had been daydreaming about how it would feel to have easel boy blow his cigarette smoke in your face and then subsequently scolding yourself for having thoughts like that about a total stranger. In a terrible twist of fate, the professor only held office hours after her last classes on Mondays and Fridays, so even getting the information from her then was off the table. Dread began to pool in your stomach.

Any other student would have been able to cut their losses, rent a copy from the library, slog through it in a night, and write the damn essay even without the help of the classroom slides for context. The only problem was all the books in the library were in Sokovian, and you still barely knew how to order a coffee correctly. Reading the language in a full Cyrillic alphabet would just be impossible, especially for a book as stupidly old as the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In short, unless you could get your hands on a copy in the next day or so, you were absolutely, well-and-truly fucked.

Sasha was quick to find you as the hall cleared out, waiting near your seat as you packed away your notes. “That was all bullshit, no?” He asked, but the second he took in your slightly panicked expression he stopped short, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply. You knew what he was going to say before he ever said it.

“Something is wrong. You were not paying attention. Were you thinking-”

“Yes. Okay? Yes, I was thinking about him,”

He shook his head slightly. “I am concerned for you,”

“Who isn’t?”

Despite his usually stoic demeanor, that made Sasha huff out a soft laugh. “You got yourself into this mess, Y/N, you will get yourself out somehow,”

Your jaw dropped as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started making your way towards the door. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“Though I would love to be helpful, you forget that my English is poor. It will do me better to read the book in Sokovian myself than to use the information from class,”

Oh, yeah. You winced. “Sorry, Sash’”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged as you walked out onto the lawn, chilled to the bone by the wind that whipped in every direction.

A storm was brewing. It might not fully take hold of the city for a few hours yet, but it would make the walk to your evening class absolute hell if the rain fell as hard as it had several weeks prior. You could only hope that it wouldn’t start until after you had walked home. Your odds were looking slim, though, based on the way you could already hear thunder clapping in the distance. After a moment you hit the edge of the sidewalk where your paths would diverge.

“Good luck with the paper,” you offered weakly.

Sasha replied with a sharp, “Good luck with your crush,” and then he was off in the opposite direction without another word. Sasha was blunt like that, never overstaying his welcome or lingering when he didn’t need to. There was something enviable about it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to simply say things as they were without an unnecessary sugar coating to save face and spare feelings. It lingered on your mind for the whole half-mile walk to the campus bookstore. Speaking of which...

There was only one place where you might possibly find an English copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It wasn’t the big student bookstore, most of the textbooks there had been in Sokovian, Russian, or German and you hadn’t even tried to set foot in their actual book section. No, your only hope was the tiny hole-in-the-wall bookstore you had stumbled upon during move-in. It was only about half a mile away from your dorm from any of your lecture halls, so you often found yourself wandering inside when you had time to kill. They were one of the only stores you’d come across that sold anything in English, magazines included, so despite the fact that the young cashiers rarely spoke your language you often found that the back shelves of that tiny shop kept you from going mad.

Now, they might also be keeping you from ruining your GPA.

You could only hope. If anybody could save you, it was them.

Ducking in through the small doorway, you were greeted by the soft ring of the bell above your head. The attendant at the register simply regarded you with a polite nod. You had seen her there before and she knew you barely spoke a lick of Sokovian, so she didn’t attempt a pleasantry. Instead, she simply let you wander through the entrance and into the towering bookshelves, passing a few other faceless shoppers on your way towards the back. You were grateful for her nonchalance.

If there was anything worse than feeling foolish for not knowing Sokovian, it was being talked down to in perfect English by a Sokovian citizen. Most interactions left you wishing you’d actually taken anything away from your high school French class other than emotional trauma from your teacher and a caffeine addiction. Damn America and its terrible public-school language programs…

The path to the English classics section was one you’d walked many times since discovering the book store. It was right in the very back corner of the shop, tucked away where the city natives wouldn’t have to address or see it. You had snagged a copy of Pride and Prejudice a few weeks back, so you knew exactly where to search. The only problem was slogging through every single book on the shelf in search of the one you were looking for.

Your eyes scanned the wall.  

Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh…

Gilgamesh!

On the 6th shelf up sat one small copy. Score! You were saved! As you reached up to grab it, though, you were met with yet another roadblock. The shelf it was on was juuuust a little too high for you to reach. Oh, come on…

You hopped a little, extending your hand up as far as it could go, but your fingers just barely brushed the spine. Somewhere behind you, you could hear footsteps. Then someone coughed to suppress laughter. The shame was plain on your face. As your flannel rode up and you stretched up in one last desperate attempt to grab the book when suddenly someone, you assumed the same person who had been laughing at your misfortune, spoke.

“They have stools, you know,” he said, accented voice thick with amusement. The English surprised you, but you assumed they used it for your benefit. You were in front of the English language books after all. Besides, the shame of it all kept your mind from questioning it too much. “For reaching the top shelf,”

Of course they had stools.

If your face hadn’t already been burning with embarrassment it definitely was now.

In a split-second decision, you decided playing dumb was the only way you could walk out of the situation with any dignity left at all, so you plastered on a confused smile and spun around to greet the stranger. “Really? I had no cl-”

You stopped short.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’d know those paint-stained jeans anywhere.

There, with his hands in his pockets and the most self-important, thin-lipped smirk you had ever seen, was easel boy in all of his cocky, intimidating, hot glory. Had you really noticed how hot he truly was before? It didn’t feel like it. Not now that you’d really seen him close up and reveled in the way his dark eyes hypnotized you with their smudged liner that felt borderline obscene. You could smell him too, all charcoal and turpentine and cigarette smoke. If you had it bad before when he was just a blurry ideal out your window, you were completely and utterly smitten now.

He regarded you with a sort of practiced annoyance, and yet there was a strange softness to it that you hadn’t found in many native Sokovians, especially ones that saw you as the stupid, bumbling American wandering blindly around their country.

“Would you like my help?”

“Huh?” You were so lost in his eyes that you couldn’t even focus on his question.

“To reach your book. Would you like my help?”

“Oh!” With a brisk nod, you stepped away from the shelf to make room for easel boy, “yeah, I’m just trying to grab that one there. The, uh, Epic of Gilgamesh,”

In one swift movement, he was stepping right beside you to easily reach up and grab the offending piece of literature. The closeness of it all nearly sent you into a tailspin. That wasn’t even mentioning the way your heart thudded just a little faster when he finally handed the book to you, his calloused fingers brushing against your own. You barely find a grip on your brain strong enough to thank him through the fog of embarrassment and attraction. Eventually, though, you managed to choke out a placation as your eyes explored the cover of the book.

“Thanks for that,”

“It was no problem,” he shrugged. He didn’t move though, still standing just inches away from you. When you looked up from the book you found his eyes were still on you, watching intently as if he expected something from you. The answer to what he actually expected was a mystery but you could tell he wanted something. When you didn’t speak, he spoke for you. “So, The Epic of Gilgamesh? That’s definitely a bold choice,”

You looked up at him sheepishly through heavily lidded eyes. “It’s not a choice at all, actually. I’m only buying it so I can write an essay,”

“Ah,” Something about his tone was almost disappointed as the conversation stalled.

You quickly changed the subject to the first thing you could think of.

“Your hair is really nice!”

“My hair?”

“Yeah… your hair,”

Smooth move, dumbass.

Easel boy’s expression seemed to soften once more as his signature grin crept back onto his face. “Thank you, I grew it myself,” Between his accent and the way he was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive, you weren’t exactly sure how you hadn’t had a heart attack yet. Still, the attention was nice, even if it was bourne out of you repeatedly embarrassing yourself in a never-ending cycle of fuckups. He ran a hand through his loose brown hair. “I like your shirt. Very American,”

Silently, you cursed yourself for not taking a few extra seconds to pick out a better outfit when you woke up. Standing next to him, even while he was dressed in his paint-stained jeans and undone button-up, you looked like a wreck in comparison. He didn’t seem to be speaking from a place of judgment, though.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was being nice, but that couldn’t be the case… could it?

“Maybe it’s just that I haven’t met very many Sokovians that are fond of America, but I’m not sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult,” You joked. It was a bit sarcastic, the lilt of your voice masking your deep insecurity, and to your surprise easel boy laughed. He really laughed. From your place beside him, you could almost feel the warmth radiating off of him as he shook his head.

“It was definitely a compliment,”

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat.

That was a new revelation.

You steeled yourself with a deep breath. Fuck it. It was now or never.

“I, uh… I’m Y/N, and you are?”

He regarded you once again with that strange expression of expectation. “What?”

“I asked for your name,” you repeated, and yet he still stood, slightly dumbfounded, staring down at you with that same expectant expression from earlier. For a moment, you almost thought he expected you to know it already. That fact was quickly glossed over when he moved to rub the back of his neck with his hand, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I’m not very good with people. My father thought college might help me finally connect with my peers, but I don’t think he expected that I was the problem, nor do I think he expected me to pick a degree in the arts,” Suddenly, he paused and stuck out his hand to you. “I’m Hel. It’s very nice to meet you Y/N,”

With only a moment of hesitation- because wow, your name had never sounded more right on someone’s lips -you took his large calloused hand in your own and shook it gently. His palm was warm, his fingers lingering on your own for just a moment even as he pulled away. It wasn’t much, just a soft brush against your flesh, but it sent a flash of heat and liquid confidence through your chest.

“Is that short for something?” Your eyes met his in the soft yellow glow of the overhead lamps. Seeing him like this, so up close and personal, he looked a lot more human than he had from your window. Sure, he was imposing. Underneath the initial harsh facade, though, was something softer and almost poetic. You weren’t an artist by any means but if you had been, you had no doubt that he’d be your muse.

“It’s short for Helmut, but only my father calls me that, and only when he’s cross, which, unfortunately, is most of the time,” he chuckled, “Besides, it’s an old man’s name. It doesn’t suit me,”

The words left your mouth before you knew what you were saying.

“Well, it’s better than calling you easel boy,”

Shit.

Today really just wasn’t your day, huh?

In the split second where you were mourning your chances with the most stupidly handsome guy who had ever shown any interest in you, you almost missed the way Helmut’s eyes lit up at the admission.

“Easel boy?” His voice was teasing, but not demeaning. That didn’t do much to ease your mortification, though.

“Is there any chance that I can get you to forget I said anything?”

“If you already have a nickname for me when we’ve barely met, I think you already know the answer to that question,”

His knowing smirk was enough to get you pleading. “You can’t just let me off the hook this once?” you begged, scrubbing a hand across your forehead in a desperate attempt to get away from his piercing gaze. The things those brown eyes did to you could be classified as obscene… “I will genuinely do anything if you don’t make me explain myself right now Hel,”

Hel quirked up an eyebrow. “Anything?” The way your stomach turned at just one word from him was both terrifying and extremely exciting. It felt like a promise. Without hesitation, you nodded. That made him smile. “In that case, get coffee with me today?”

Once again, you were rendered speechless.

“My treat,” he added, “unless you’re not interested…”

“No!” Your answer left your lips embarrassingly fast, “Or- yes? No, no, I think I meant no. No; I am very interested. Yes; I would like to get coffee with you,” There was a hint of shame in your words, but only a hint. After the day you’d had already, there wasn’t very much there to be ashamed of. Still, that same pit of dread began to open up in your stomach as you mulled over your choices.

Thankfully, Helmut continued to take it all in stride. “Wonderful! Is there anything else you’d like to do here before we go? It’s best we leave soon if we want to beat the rain,” He offered up his arm as he spoke like some sort of Disney prince. It was, by far, the cutest gesture you had ever been lucky enough to receive.

You linked your arm with his without hesitation. “As soon as I pay we can get going,” He was warm. It radiated off him in waves just like the warm hints of tobacco and wintermint that seemed to seep from his skin and clothes. With that, you made your way to the front desk as Hel shot you a sly smile.

“Who said anything about letting you pay?”

True to his word, he didn’t let you pay for a single thing for the rest of the afternoon.

The two of you made your way up to the cashier together, and Helmut only separated from your side to grab his wallet before you could grab yours. He then spoke in rapid-fire Sokovian to the lady at the register and pulled what could only be described as a wad of Sokovian koronas while you set the book on the counter, and from the looks of it, she seemed more than pleased with the two of you. Who wouldn’t be, especially when Hel seemed to insist that she keep the excess? In the end, after the book had been wrapped nicely in a paper bag and deposited in your backpack, Helmut held the door open for you like some sort of gentleman and followed you out into the grey afternoon.

Then, you were off down the street on Hel’s arm, pushing through the wind and the biting chill that had settled in the air.

“So, you don’t sound like a big fan of your dad,” you asked, half laughing as you attempted to broach conversation once again.

Helmut groaned beside you. “My father is a menace who is unable to understand that some people want more in life than to sit behind a desk all day making phone calls. In fact, most of my family is the same way. The only reason I haven’t completely cut them off and changed my name is the money,”

“I assume you get a lot of it if it’s worth sticking around someone you hate so much,”

“Never ask a man about his net worth,” he chuckled, gently elbowing you in the ribs, “but yes, I’m very comfortable. I have my own apartment just far enough away to be considered off-campus with my own car and as much money as it takes to keep me happy and getting good grades; Daddy makes sure of that,” The word daddy was a deep sneer, barely there in the wind, but something about it sent butterflies through your stomach. Well, that was never something you thought you were into… “Little does he know, I’m not here to make money. I’m here to find inspiration worth my time while out from under his thumb,”  

You snorted softly. “Artistic and rich? You’re just ticking all the boxes, Hel,”

“Good for me. Would offering help on that essay of yours endear you to me further?”

“Absolutely,”

The next 5 minutes you spend discussing the Epic of Gilgamesh. Surprisingly, in one of the first stokes of good luck you’d had all day, Helmut seemed to be one of the only people on earth who knew plenty about Enkidu off the top of his head. When he was the one lecturing you in his smooth, heavily accented timbre it was so much easier to pay attention to something so very tedious than when you heard it from your aging and often monotone professor. In fact, you were so enthralled by his retelling of the tale that you barely noticed you’d made it all the way to the cafe that sat across from the international dorm.

If you didn’t consider Hel to be smart as a whip and twice as clever as he was smart, you would have thought it was a coincidence. It couldn’t be though. No, there was no way anything was a coincidence with Helmut around. You shot him a smile when he opened the door for you and ushered you inside.

“You know Hel,” you muttered, “I’m starting to think you might know more about me than you initially let on,”

He shrugged. “You’re American, so it’s unlikely you live anywhere else and I wanted to make the walk home easy. It’s supposed to rain, you know? Besides, despite the… interesting waitstaff, they make the best pastries in town right here in this cafe,”

“Did you mean it when you said you were paying?”

“Absolutely,”

“Then I can’t wait to try one,”

The two of you were seated quickly (you assumed it had to do with the waitress finding Hel as hot as you did, because you caught her looking at him from behind the counter and whispering excitedly in Sokovian to her coworker at least twice over the course of the meal) and the conversation flowed easily as you waited on your coffees and the deserts Helmut insisted on splitting to let you try. Millefeuille, pear tart tatin, chocolate devil’s food cake, and a towering plate of apricot kołaczki awaited you, and they kept you sitting and talking and snacking for over an hour as you really got to know each other. The more you learned, the more you fell in love with the man across from you.

Over the course of the afternoon, you learned that Helmut was majoring in studio art while minoring in psychology just because it interested him, he hated the Beatles almost as much as he hated Freud’s theories on women, his favorite color was purple, and he spent most of his free time reading or getting high off his ass in his massive studio apartment in what you now knew was one of the most expensive areas in the city. He, in return, sat at rapt attention across the table as you gushed about your life in America, your reasons for going to university in Sokovia, your favorite books, and the ridiculousness that was trying to pass college-level classes in a country that seemed to avoid English at all costs.

Eventually, though, you did touch upon his nickname.

“I just thought it was really interesting that you did the same thing every single day, no matter what,” you explained, grabbing one of the last kołaczki from the plate and ignoring the powdered sugar that stuck to your fingers, “and by watching you… I don’t know, I guess it kind of felt like I had another friend who’d share breakfast with me in the morning if that makes sense,”

Hel nodded, swallowing his last bite of chocolate cake. “I understand completely. It can be lonely, coming to a new place without any friends or connections, but you were brave enough to take the leap. I admire that,” He brought his napkin to his lips before crumpling it and setting it one of the now empty plates before him, “But I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that you didn’t watch me because I’m attractive,”

You nearly choked on your pastry. “Well, I wouldn’t say your pretty face didn’t help…”

The grin that spread across his face was heartstopping. He grabbed a napkin from the little holder next to the two of you and grabbed a pen from one of his pockets as he spoke. “In that case, you should join me tomorrow morning. Bring coffee if you can, I never have enough hands to bring a cup for myself, but even if you can’t bring some, if you want to come and watch me work I’d be more than happy to have a companion for the morning,” he paused for a moment, flustered, “or every morning, for that matter,”

“That sounds like a deal,” Your cheeks were hot, but not from embarrassment this time. No, it was anything but, because here you were across the table from a kind, attractive, intelligent Sokovian boy with money to spend and time to spare for you. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud too. He wanted you back, after all. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than he should, and even more plainly in the way he wrote his phone number in bold blue ink on the napkin and signed it with a doodle of a heart before passing it across the table to you.

“I’m going to go pay,” he said quietly while standing, “but I’ll be back in a second to walk you out. Alright?”

“Alright,”

There was something strangely similar to sorrow sitting in your chest when you watched him walk away. The sight of his ass as he went made up for it, though. Once he was obstructed by other patrons, you turned your attention to the napkin in your hands. Hel’s handwriting was neat as far as artists’ handwriting goes, but it still held a sort of looseness in its curves, a freedom in the way the numbers had flowed effortlessly from his pen. You popped the last kołaczki in your mouth as you admired the blue ink before devouring the final bites of pear tart and millefeuille. How had you gotten so lucky to have someone like him giving you his number and buying you pastries? You pondered the bizarre nature of it all until Helmut returned.

You stood quickly, folding the napkin and putting it away in your pocket. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” he replied. In an instant, you were standing beside him again as he opened the door for you. The wind was even stronger now, strong enough that his loose hair whipped wildly around his forehead from the force of it. You couldn’t help but giggle at his appearance.

He caught you off guard as he walked you across the street. “You have such a pretty laugh,”

It was like you were seeing him again for the first time. You fiddled with the strap of your backpack as you got closer and closer to the door to your dorm. “Thanks. I’m pretty fond of your laugh too,”

Then, you were there, just two college kids standing awkwardly before your first departure.

“So,” you said before you could stop yourself, “when I tell my one friend all about this afternoon after my math class tonight, should I say it was a date?”

Hel’s cheeks flushed pink. “You can call it that, if that’s what you would like it to have been,”

“I think I would,”

“Good, good,” he let out a little chuckle, “I’m glad. Would you… would you consider going on another? I promise I have much more to offer than just small talk and tips on where to buy the best pastries,”

Looking into his brown eyes, so full of uncertainty and hope, you knew you couldn’t have denied him even if you wanted to. Still, you weren’t going to give in to his advances without a little bit of taunting. It made it fun, a game to be played where, hopefully, you both would win big in the end.

“That depends,” you teased, letting your lower lip catch between your teeth, “what do you have in mind?”

Helmut shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, pensive. “If you want to, we could go to my place and I could actually show you all of the paintings I’ve been working on while you watched me. The view from the rooftop is lovely too. We could have dinner up there while looking out over Novi Grad. I have to warn you, though, it’ll probably be takeout. I’m an atrocious chef,”

Slowly, a brilliant smile spread across your face. “Does Friday work?”

The smile Helmut shot back was as bright as every star in the night sky and even more enthralling. “Friday is perfect. Can I pick you up at 7?”

“As long as you come in that fancy car you were talking about,”

“Then it’s a deal,”

“Well,” you turned away, walking up the steps towards the door before turning back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Hel, and I’ll bring coffee. Have a good night,”

“You too, Y/N. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that,”

With that, he gave one last short wave before turning on his heel and pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. You watched him walk away until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. Only then did you enter the punch code and race up the stairs to your room.

Your back was pressed to the door of your dorm room the second you had shut it, your hands clutching at your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your heart from beating right out of your ribs. The second you were in the privacy of your own place, your cool facade had melted away to reveal just how much of a wreck you really were.

He had invited you over to his apartment.

He liked you.

Easel boy really, honestly liked you.

No, not easel boy. Helmut. Hel.

Hel liked you, and he invited you over to his apartment, and you had plans to meet him with coffee as he painted the next morning.

You smiled softly under the fluorescent lights and pulled the book that had brought you together from your backpack. It seemed so unassuming now, just a fresh paperback with an unbroken spine, but in reality, it was so much more than that.

Hel.

It was such a nice name. You liked it a lot.

Now you couldn’t wait to see what else you liked about him too.

------

a/n: I have been so excited to start sharing this AU with you guys, and it’s finally here!!! If you liked this fic, I once again will direct you to Bliss by @creme-bruhlee​ because that’s technically next in chronological order for this AU. I hope you enjoyed!!!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @your-pixels-are-showing , @shit-post-things , @bbarton​ , @sux-ubus , @halefirewarrior , @janelongxox , @rax-writes , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ , @be-cautious-around-bri​ , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car​ , @frothonthedaydreams​ 

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #fanfiction

[findingyourrootscomic]

Mudkip Cedar is so beautiful, isn't she? ;;w;; Such wonderful, bright colors. Was in the mood to draw Cedar and Nauki's baby forms today, feeling a little nostalgic! So! Some interesting news! Despite The Things We Have not being completed yet (14 pages left to render!), I’ve started to draw Finding Your Roots again! I think after an entire summer of working on the rabbit comic, I got super burnt out? So, I got in the mood to draw some FYR instead, and since I got back to working on it a couple weeks ago, I’ve finished eleven pages! I’m really proud of myself for how easily I’ve jumped back into it, and I’m currently working on drawing the next big battle. >:3 It’s coming out great so far and I’m super excited.

FYR’s third birthday came and went in July. It passed on July 10, specifically, that day three years ago is when I finished the first page of FYR. It was before I even planned on ever releasing the comic publicly. I wasn’t even quite sure whether I wanted to commit to making a Nuzlocke comic or not! And even once I started releasing it, I always had these fears and anxieties over the project. FYR is going to be long, guys. It’s going to be long. We’re seven chapters in and have around 23 to go. Book 2 will probably take me another couple of years to finish, and at that point? The comic might just be halfway done. We’ve got four books to go, book 3 is looking like it’s going to be long. I loved the project so much that the thought of burning out and never finishing it, a fate shared by so many comic artists, was horrifying. It would keep me up at night. I’ve broken into tears from the stress of it. Wooooof, right?

But recently, thankfully… that changed.

I was chatting with my friend @zeropro, who somehow found the right words to encourage me not to view FYR as a goal, but rather a journey. Zero is a really good friend of mine, one of the best friends I’ve ever had in fact, and she would always sit with me and listen when I would vent about the stress of finishing FYR. The last time I vented about it, complaining about how I might be working on this project into my 30s (I’m currently 22), she said this:

“But what’s wrong with working on it late into your thirties, it can just be this constant fun little project that you dip into, a documentation of your growth through your whole artist career. Wouldn’t that be nice? Like a rabbit you can take care of for a long time. Imagine being the author of One Piece or Dragonball, where it’s not about finishing it but keeping it going for as long as people will read it. Isn’t it nice that FYR will at least have an end?

“Comics like TTWH and LL, they are meant to be completed, but FYR and JBN, these projects are here to grow with us, to keep us company through hard times. What’s the rush? I like to think your art style might change even further as FYR goes on! And who knows where you'll take it!

“Every day you get to draw another page is another day you get to draw another page, not one page more of a thousand. Every day as you draw one more page you will end up there, but that’s not the point, it’s what you get to do now.”

And those words… I’m happy to say, they solved the problem!

It’s not that I have to work on FYR for another ten years or so. It’s that I GET to work on FYR for another ten years or so! FYR has been such a stable, comforting presence in my life these past three years, and while I’m excited to some day see it completed, I’m happy to welcome it in my life for a long time coming. I’m the sort of person who is quite terrified of change. The unknown scares me a lot; I’m not good at handling an unknown future where bad things could happen and I have no way to predict or stop it. But FYR will always be around for me. It’ll be a pet I get to take care of for a long time who can never succumb to old age. It’ll be a friend I can trust to be always be around, because I’m the one who controls it! And if I ever want to put it aside for a while to work on other projects, like I did with TTWH, I’m allowed to do that too! Doesn’t matter if it takes me a year or two longer to finish FYR cause I was working on other stuff. FYR will always be around for me, and for you!

I’ve been doing a lot of work on planning future FYR chapters as well. I basically realized that a lot of my plans for the plot’s future, uhhhh, kinda sucked? They weren’t incredibly original, were too plot-focused, and didn’t leave a lot of room for the characters to explore themselves and grow naturally as people. Character focused stories are always better than plot-focused ones!!! So I’m overhauling a lot of my plans for FYR right now, doing some outlining for late Book 2 and Book 3, and restructuring FYR to be a story much more focused on character development and themes. We’re gonna spend less time chasing down villains and more time exploring the characters, their feelings, growth, and identities. I think the changes are going to make FYR a really spectacular experience, a comic that’s incredibly unique. I’m excited to share it with you.

I’m incredibly proud to be the author of FYR. I’m proud to be able to make a comic that’s made so many other people happy. We’ve laughed together, cried together, and we’re telling this story together. I’m not going anywhere. So I hope you’ll stick around, too!

Because this comic is amazing. And it’s only ever going to get even better.

- SPB

#pokemon #mudkip #spb's art

[citydreamgrls]

how much have you had to drink?

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 2,387

a/n: maybe I did use too many differing pov’s but it is what it is,, enjoy!! :)

warnings: none ( i think )

I had been the first, and only person to prank the twins back at Hogwarts. Everyone else in the school was too afraid of their tricks that it was easier to stay out of a never-ending war with them. But I'd always been up for a good challenge, even if it was a 5 year long one.

As usual the twins joined me at breakfast, ignoring Angelina who had been telling me about the upcoming halloween party, and sat either side of me.

“Morning boys,”

“y/n,” they acknowledged in unison, both reaching for toast.

“Sleep well?” I asked George.

“Oh yes, perfectly.” He said sarcastically, taking a large bite of food.

“Almost as if someone slipped us a sleeping potion.” Fred joined in on the other side of me.

“Well I had to test my homework on someone,” I admitted, unashamed of my great potion-making skills. “Anything else strange happen last night?” I asked innocently.

“Nope.” they said.

“You sure? Because I managed to get some very lovely pictures of you too sporting some very sweet hairstyles.” I waved the photos of their sleeping forms in their faces, the little red pigtails flashing before their eyes.

Oliver Wood, having caught onto the end of our conversation leant across the table to see what I had.

“So that’s why you too looked like that this morning, I was beginning to worry I’d started sleepwalking.. Or styling.” He laughed, earning a glare from the boys beside me.

“You know we will get you back y/n,” Fred warned, but his threat was empty.

“Oh come on, you boys always go easy on me.” I laughed, taking a sip of my juice and immediately spitting it back out. “Gross!”

“Oh do we?” George asked, barely looking up from his book to hex my plate into slugs.

-  

As much as the twins and I battled, they were still my best friends and I had spent pretty much my entire time at Hogwarts at their side. Unless Angelina pulled me away to gossip about whatever ‘exciting’ thing was coming up next.

This time it was the halloween party.

“I just don’t get why I have to dress up Lina, I'm already a witch. Can’t I go as myself?” I huffed, resting my legs on her lap as we sat in front of the fire.

“The Weasley’s won’t let anyone in who isn’t dressed up, it’s the rules.”

“Oh that’s easy, they’ll let me come regardless.” I laughed.

It was as if they appeared at the sound of their name, popping their heads over the back of the sofa. Both Angelina and I jumped out of our skin, immediately reaching up to hit them in retaliation.

“Hey, you guys will still let me come to the party saturday if I don’t dress up right?” I asked with an expectant smile.

“No costume,” Fred started

“No entry,” George finished. And then walked off to the dorms.

“Oi, but it’s me-”

“No exceptions,” They called back.

I fell back into the sofa, ignoring Angelina’s smug face as she started discussing costumes once again. Tossing up whether to go as a cat, or some sort of muggle character. Not that she really knew any, but she just wanted to impress one of the boys in the year above.

“Will you help me y/n?” she pleaded, to which I finally gave in. Knowing I didn’t have anything better to do.

-

Saturday morning rolled around and I still hadn’t sorted my own costume, but at least Angelina was happy with her Daphne costume that I’d helped organise.

Fred and George had slipped away early from dinner last night, claiming that they had to ‘finish up party plans’. But I felt uneasy, having swapped their ties for two slytherin ones and then locking them in the dorms until 2 minutes before classes started that morning.

Yes it made me late for Mcgonigall’s lesson too, but seeing them rush in wearing the wrong uniform and having to explain that it had just been mixed up somehow to their head of house was well worth it.

Still, they could be planning payback.

-

The party was starting in an hour, and everyone was in their dorms getting ready. Including about three more girls than were usually in mine and Angelina’s dorm, racing around with masks and lip liner and other parts of costumes.

I walked in to see a hat with bunny ears laying on my bed.

“It’s all I could find,” Angelina told me, as she passed by to grab her purple jacket. “Dunno if it’ll be enough though.”

“I’ll sort something out, thanks Lina!” I shouted after her as she raced to use the bathroom before anyone else slipped in.

My only thought at the time was clown makeup, but I didn’t have any white face paint, and never really enjoyed its feel as it was. So I took a red lipstick and some dark eyeshadow to draw diamonds round my eyes. With the bunny hat on I looked far from scary, but paired with the clown makeup and a dark lip, I at least looked creepy.

Angelina leant me some fishnet tights to wear with my black skirt and I threw on a zip hoodie I had stolen from one of them twins years ago. I couldn’t remember which one if I was being honest.

-

Oliver and I had been sharing a bottle of vodka I'd brought with me from home, knowing it got everyone drunk quicker than wizard booze. Without realising it, an hour had passed, and I was yet to see either of the twins.

“You seen Fred or George tonight?” I asked the boy beside me, who was enjoying his stress-free evening.

“Yeah, Fred is dressed as a fighter pilot and I think I saw George in some kind of lab coat… or maybe it was a doctor?” He laughed to himself.

I headed up to their dorm room to see if they were there, and sure enough I just avoided a head on collision as they walked out.

“Whoa, nearly lost me there!” I screamed, stumbling back with a laugh. “What are you guys doing up here,”

“Nothing,” George spoke quickly.

“How much did you drink, y/n” Fred asked, helping me down the stone steps until we made it safely to the common room.

“Not loads, hey that’s not right.” I frowned at the boy holding me steady.  “Oliver said you were dressed as a Pilot Fred, not George.”

“I am George!” The boy, with the aviator sunglasses on, teased. “You’re as bad as mum honestly.”

“Yeah, at least our costumes are legit!” the other teased, flopping the bunny ear that had fallen over one eye away.

“Do you like it?” I spun round, the skirt bouncing around I did.

“It’s an interesting combination,”

“Well you haven’t kicked me out… yet.”

-

Unbeknownst to y/n’s knowledge, the twins continued to confuse her. Constantly running off to swap costumes, and mess with their friend further. Although it kind of backfired, as the more she drank, the less she trusted herself to tell them apart and gave up altogether. In the end they went back to their original costumes, Fred as the Pilot and George the bloody doctor. They both decided to tell y/n the next morning, when she could at least have a chance of understanding.

-

Everyone else was in bed, except for the twins and I who sat up singing by the fire and sharing the last bottle of gin that I could find in my stash.

“I’m gonna have to stock up my stash at christmas,” I laughed as the last swig was taken and we fell into each other's shoulders. I slumped between them, laughing at the memory of Ron and Hermione’s perfect dance routine to livin’ la vida loca earlier that night.

I felt a lump in my jacket pocket and remembered that’s where I’d left my cigarettes since being at home. I stood up, startling the boys and declared what I was leaving to do.

“I’m off for a smoke, see you in a bit.” They shook awake.

“Wait y/n, you can’t smoke here rememb- oh god she’s gone.”

“Well go on then George, stop her!” Fred grumbled to his brother, having already drifted back off to sleep.

-

George ran down the staircase, being careful not to make too much noise as his doctor’s coat flew behind him. He had only been a few seconds behind y/n, how could she have disappeared already? Still, he headed for the black lake, knowing that was her favourite spot to go when she wanted to be alone. He had watched her there many times, far away enough that she had never spotted him though.

“Y/n!” He whisper-shouted, running down the bank towards her. She was already sat down, the lighter in one hand and a cigarette balanced between her lips.

“What are you doing Fred?” she asked, mistaking him for the other twin.

“Oh about th-”

“At least it’s you and not George,”

The boy felt hurt by her words, always having looked after her without her knowing. Most of the time the lack of retaliation from the twins in their prank war was because George would sabotage it. He always felt guilty playing tricks on y/n.

“Why’s that?” He asked, playing along with what she believed to find out the truth.

The girl lit her cigarette regardless of his warning, and puffed out a breath of smoke offering it to the boy beside her who reluctantly agreed. Knowing that if his mother could see him now, she would have a heart attack.

“I always embarrass myself in front of George,” y/n admitted. “Whether it’s being drunk, or making stupid jokes. I just look like an idiot when I’m around him.”

“I don’t think you do,”

“I can’t help it though, it’s different with you. You’re like a brother to me Fred.”

“Actually y/n-” George started, wanting to come clean, but she kept going.

“But George, he’s just more than that you know. He always cares for me and makes sure I’m safe, hell he thinks I don’t notice when he watches me sulk down here.” She laughed lightly to herself, leaning to rest on the boy beside her. “I was so sure I knew him better than anyone else, but obviously not.” Her shoulders dropped in despair.

“Why’s that?”

“He probably just sees me as a friend right? I mean, I couldn’t even tell you two apart tonight, I thought you were him.” She scoffed.

George swallowed, knowing that him admitting to their prank would most likely cause some backlash from the girl. But he bit the bullet.

“I am George.”

Her body froze.

“Don’t joke.” She said flatly.

“I’m not, honestly. It was just supposed to confuse you earlier but I am George.”

Y/n stood up, dropping her cigarette into the water and headed up the hill towards the courtyard. George ran after her again.

“Please y/n wait!” He called out, grabbing her hand to stop her. She spun around, tears running down her face. “Oh god i’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you thought I was him, I just came to check on you.”

“I’m such an idiot god.” she huffed, trying to drag herself away but he wouldn’t let go. “I can’t even tell it’s you when you’re right here,”

“Yes you could y/n, that’s the whole point.”

“Still I just told you how I feel about you, with no intention of actually telling you, yet here we are with you being kind and nice and perfect and I’m just embarrassing myself once again.”

George followed her into the hallway and up the stairs, not wanting to call out until they were clear of the earshot of others. He managed to stop her just before the common room, pulling her aside into a secluded corner.

“Y/n, darling..” she had never heard him call anyone that seriously until now, and she couldn’t help but feel special because of that. “I have never seen you as an idiot, and you have never embarrassed yourself in front of me. In fact, I’ve always thought you were the perfect one.”

“Then why are you only telling me this now?” The girl asked him.

“I always thought you liked Oliver,”

“Wood?” she laughed and he hadn’t heard a sound better “God, he’s way too intense. Even tonight he wanted to talk game strategies with me, it was so boring.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

“So… you’ve always liked me?” She teased him slightly, playing with the seam of his costume. George just rolled his eyes and held her face, making her look up at him. Of course she had stood next to him before, but it was only in this moment that she felt the sheer height gap between them.

He leant down and kissed her lips, still clutching her face as her hands dropped from his coat in shock. He was soft and sincere, holding her as if he’d longed to do so for quite some time. Y/n smiled against George’s lips, making the boy blush to himself and thank Merlin that she couldn’t see him do it.

They broke away after what felt like nowhere near long enough, y/n rested her head into his chest and sighed happily.

“We should get to bed, it’s late.” George whispered and she nodded. “You tired?” y/n nodded again. “Okay darling let’s go.” He took her waist and lifted her off the ground, letting her wrap her legs around him and nestle into his neck.

He passed Fred who was slipping into unconsciousness on the common room sofa.

“Night Fred,” they called to him, and he just groaned back.

“Don’t worry, we can tell him in the morning.”

“George,” the girl in his arms groaned.

“Yesss..”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course darling,” George said softly and took the girl up to his dorm so she could sleep comfortably in his arms, her little head tucked between him and the bed. He laughed at the bunny hat discarded on the chair, remembering how sweet she’d looked in it.

Even as a creepy clown George had wanted to kiss her.

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #weasley #weasley twins #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley #harry potter #y/n #george weasley x reader #the weasleys #the weasley twins

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 3

whoops is it time for a little bit of angst??? i think it’s time for a little bit of angst. 

warnings: cussing, suggestive language, attempted assault, sexual assault, stalking, unwanted advantages,smut, angst, another smut warning cause i haven’t written smut in a HOT minute, please 18+ cannot stress that enough 

masterlist for my writing

Part 4 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One date had turned into three which sprouted into many many more. Despite having challenging schedules, the two new found lovers made time for each other. Aizawa didn’t really think he’d get a chance like this but here he is, standing outside the bookstore he frequents as often as he can with a tiny goofy grin on his face.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

He stutters out a response upon seeing the outfit his girlfriend decided to wear. It wasn’t an easy thing to squeeze out of the man, but after the fifth date and the first time she spent the night at his place the couple made it official. Even his co-workers couldn’t believe the sleepy man had a girlfriend on top of everything he already does… But here she is, wearing one of his favorite outfits of hers as they meet up for a brief date.

“I was about to drop dead if I had to wait any longer,” he whispers as he leans in to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love the way you look tonight.”

(Y/n) looks away embarrassed. Even though they had been dating for over three months now, she still couldn’t get used to Shouta’s flirting and downright cuteness. “T-thank you, Sho. I’m glad you get a few hours before your patrol shift starts.” She looks to him with bright and eager eyes that he could get lost in forever. “So, where are we going?”

It takes a little willpower in Aizawa to hold back a smirk as he enjoys the view of her impatience adorn her features. He’s not sure who will be more excited for the date, him or her.

“You’ll see,” he snickers. Her eyes roll as they stroll along the street. The setting sun ahead of them litters the sky with beautiful purples and oranges; a few clouds line the skies giving the world around them an ethereal feel.

They continue to walk for about ten more minutes, having mindless conversation about anything and everything, from how he’s going to be a homeroom teacher for the next year, how she wants to add a café portion to her bookstore to draw in more people and have more income, it flows seamlessly.

Soon they stop at a store front that is unfamiliar to the woman. Once she sees that her lover has stopped, she looks to the sign and suddenly her face lights up.

“Shouta, shut up are you serious?”

He leans down to her ear, “we’ve walked by this before and I’ve always noticed how your eyes linger here. So I got us reservations.”

The sparkle in her eye is unfazed as the grin on her face only gets wider.

“A cat café!? Shouta, I can’t- I mean you took me? Here? God, you’re amazing! I just-“ she ends her sentence by pulling him by his jacket collar and kissing him lovingly. After his initial shock, he cups her face with his warm hands and deepens the kiss. The feel of his lips on hers is a sense she never wants to tire of; she’s practically addicted to it already.

Aizawa hesitantly pulls away, “as much as I’d like to continue that, we don’t wanna miss our reservation, Kitten.” He kisses her on the cheek and pulls her inside the establishment. Once inside, the couple gets swept up in the ambiance of the place. (Y/n) had an inkling that this date wasn’t just to make you happy, but to make a certain cat lover of a man next her happy too. She had picked up on his love of cats and strays on their other dates and she may or may not attempt to adopt one of the cats as a surprise.

Two hours went by too quickly in the couples opinion, but they had to sadly leave. Their stomachs and hearts full, the two begin their walk back to the bookstore. A deep voice breaks the content silent. “I really don’t want to go on patrol tonight.” (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrow at his statement and silently urges Aizawa to continue. “I want to keep looking at you like this. So happy and content… I wish our schedules weren’t so crazy.”

“I do too,” she breathes, “but that’s how it is and I get it. I mean, we both know each other at this point and know that we’re busy. It’s life, we do what we love and hopefully someone will be there with us you know…”

The momentum of the conversation slows as they reach the bookstore. The words she wishes to say fill up her lungs begging to burst from her lips as she stares at the pre hero before. She gulps whatever anxiety she has and blurts out the words she’s wanted to say all night.

“I love you.”

Black eyes widen at the proclamation and then soften once he sees the shyness and slight fear (Y/n) poses in front of him. He steps up to her, staring at her lips then back to the eyes he can get lost in forever and whispers, “I know, I love you too Kitten,” and softly kisses her lips.

***************************************

“Hey, it’s (Y/n), I mean, yeah it’s me… But where are you? I’ve been waiting outside the club for about 10 minutes now. I know your patrol ended half an hour ago. Just call me back okay?”

(Y/n) grouchily hangs up the phone and pouts. She knew he was out late which is why she wanted him to pick her up from work so she could spend the weekend at his apartment. Aizawa had just finished the first week of school as the new 1-A homeroom teacher and his girlfriend knew he would need sometime to relax. Begrudgingly, of course.

She looks to her phone again and sees that it’s approaching 2:30 in the morning. Normally she doesn’t take closing shifts because of the bookstore, but wanted to align her schedule with Aizawa’s for some time together. After almost a year don’t you think he would have been a little more considerate of this fact? This wasn’t easy for her with the new café being added to her store and having to hire new employees; she needed this one little thing.

“Fuck it, I’m walking by myself.”

Clearly a bad idea. Blissfully unaware, she sullenly walked away from her second job and toward Aizawa’s apartment. The city at night wasn’t always the safest and she knew that, but she had been waiting for more than 20 minutes for Aizawa to show and he hadn’t so she took matters into her own hand. She kept her bag close to her body as she sped walk, attempting to keep her roaring thoughts at bay.

Her phone buzzes which halts her mind, and herself, and she stops in her path. She reaches in a sees a text from him saying “omw”. That’s it? And just now? Barely being on her way, she decides to turn around and go back to their original meeting place.

Bad idea number two. Roughly, she bumps into a stiff being and trips back a few steps. In front of her is a man in a long coat and hat, covering most of his identity. “Excuse me,” she mutters past him, but is abruptly stopped when his hand grips her forearm.

“You don’t remember me.”

“Sir, let go of me.”

“Why don’t you remember me?!”

Panic rising in her, (Y/n) begins to struggle against her assailant. “Sir I have no idea what you want from me! Please let me go.”

The man, clearly hysterical, pulls her into a nearby alley and slams her against the brick wall. The woman winces in pain and tries her best to not cry in front of this stranger. “Please, just take my bag… Don’t hurt me!”

“…Why don’t you remember me? You served me for months at the club. Months! You always made my favorite drink, always made me feel better. I love you (Y/F/n)! I always gave you extra tips when I came in and now I find that you’re thinking of quitting?! Is there someone else? I left my wife like you said I should because I wasn’t happy!”

The more the man rambles, the more she starts to remember. He went by the name Shuichi Oda and from what she gathered had a rough night. Obviously a drunk, it seems like things haven’t been going well for him. She remembers having some brief conversations with him to make her patron feel better but… Damn it! She knew that this was the downside of her quirk, some people took it too personally.

“Look, Shuichi-“

“You do remember me!” He exclaims and pulls her into an unneeded hug and starts to pet her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you to be alone for quite some time. Your quirk made me feel better. You, made me feel better.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she shakily tries to reason, “I’m just a bartender. It’s my job to make people feel better.”

The man hits his head with his fist, frightening the woman. “No! With you, it’s different, see?” After he says he leans in to sloppily kiss her, holding her still against the wall behind her. His hands begin to roam in places they shouldn’t which make tears start to form in her eyes. “Please don’t cry,” he wipes a tear from her face but she moves out of his reach. “Don’t be scared, I love you. And you’re gonna come with me and be with me forever okay?”

“Please,” she screams, “let me go! I have- mmph!”

“Sh sh sh sh, we can’t have you screaming! Others could hear and try to take you away from me!” The hand he placed over her mouth is now covered in tears from her eyes. She bites at him, but his maniacal smile only gets bigger. “I don’t feel physical pain darling, just emotional.” As soon as he says that, his wandering other hand goes toward her breast and he sighs in contentment. “Oh how I’ve longed for this-“

“That’s enough!”

Soon Shuichi is being thrust into the air. He’s wrapped up in bindings and hanging from a nearby streetlamp. Eyes glowing red stare at the apprehended man and pull the wraps tighter, causing him to cough in pain. Aizawa tugs on the wraps to make the man hit his head on the light and pass out. Luckily some sirens are heard closely as someone walking by heard her scream and called for the police. Aizawa was on his way and followed the direction of the police cars hoping it didn’t involve his lover.

An hour later finds the couple walking into the pro hero’s apartment. A strong silver blanket is still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body as they make their way in. They both take off their shoes and settle in silence as the events of the last hour replay through their minds. They don’t even bother to eat anything and start to get ready for bed. Her pajamas are partially on when he sits down on the bed and mumbles, “why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Hm? What was that?”

Sighing louder, her turns to face her. “I said, why didn’t you wait for me like you were supposed to?”

(Y/n) scoffs as she pulls his shirt down her body. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t I wait? Why were you late?” Her question came out more forceful than she intended but it had been a very long day. “I rearranged my schedule so then we could get off work around the same time for once. Where the hell were you?”

“Don’t give me that,” he states getting louder, “school went late so I began my patrol late.”

“Would it have killed you to tell me that instead of keeping me waiting?”

“Would it have killed you to wait where I wanted you to? Then maybe tonight wouldn’t have happened.”

Her mouth flew open at his assumption. “Are you saying me getting attacked was my fault?!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes as his frustration grows. “If you had just stayed there and waited I was going to get there.”

“Yeah sure! But did you forget the part where that nutjob has been following me for months? He would’ve gotten to me regardless.”

“That’s because you’re too kind. Letting people think that all their problems and issues will go away with just the right fix!”

“You’re ridiculous!” You yell, “Is that really what you think of me and my quirk? Is that what you think I did to you?” (Y/n) moves around the bed to get face to face with him to prove more of her point.

He stands up off the bed to look down at her. “It could be like that for him or any other guy you’re kind to or use your quirk on. All you had to do was wait!”

“And we’re back to where we fucking started. You were late! What was I supposed to do? Wait for the next guy to come along and fuck me over in the middle of the night?”

“(Y/n) that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Oh is it? Then why do you keep putting the blame on whether or not I waited?”

“Look,” he recedes slightly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me being late, but you can’t just walk around by yourself like that!”

“Fuck off, yes I can! I’ve done it before why does it suddenly have to change now?”

“Because I fucking love you, idiot!”

Throats hoarse after the shouting match, black eyes shut as he sinks into the bed. (Y/n)’s conviction begins to falter as she follows him onto the mattress. “Shouta?”

He takes a deep breath in attempt to control himself, “I know I should have told you I was late, I’m sorry. But, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. When you weren’t there, I panicked.” He leans onto her shoulder while she rubs his back soothingly. “I was so scared for you. When I saw him touching you, I saw red.”

(Y/n) breathes deeply taking in his words, “Sho…”

“I don’t want to lose you, or have you be hurt because of me. I’m a pro-hero and a teacher at a prominent school, I’m bound to have some enemies.” He sits up to meet her gaze, holding her face in his hands. “That guy hurt you because of you and I wasn’t there.”

“Sho, it’s not your fault.”

Silence falls over them, letting the weight of their words settle into their beings. He brings her forehead toward his as fresh tears fall from her face wetting his skin.

“Kitty cat, I’m sorry for yelling.”

She kisses him lightly, “Me too.”

He kisses her again, and again, and again, Until the light, chaste kisses become deep and full of lust. Her hands find solace in his hair as her lips grant his tongue entrance. He pulls her closer to him, hoping that she can feel his erection through his pants. The feeling of him grinding against her sleep shorts elicits a moan from her mouth that makes him harder. They break for air, a line of saliva connecting them as their pupils dilate.

“Fuck I wanna keep going but you’ve had a long day.” He tries to pull away from her only to be brought in for another breathless kiss. His hands automatically went to her hips. “Kitten,” he moans into her lips.

“We have the whole weekend for me to treat you right. The whole weekend for you to be screaming my name, calling me daddy,” he smacks her ass at that comment earning a hiss from (Y/n) which ended up making her even more wet. “But we need to sleep.”

“Fuck you Shouta,” she whines. “I wanna fuck you now. I’m already so fucking wet for you and I know your dick is itching to be in my mouth or better yet in me.”

Aizawa grunts at the implications but stays strong. “No, sweetie. As much as I really want to, we gotta sleep.”

“Please I want to forget he touched me so please do something or else-“

At that she’s quickly pinned to the bed with the strong man above her. “Don’t forget,” he whispers, “you asked for this.” He slowly drags her bottoms down her legs, exposing her dripping sex to him. It took everything in him to not move too fast. Once her pj bottoms were thrown across the room, he situates himself between her legs, rubbing his hands up her calf, to her thighs enticingly slow. A pressure is felt on her hips as she’s being held in place by her lovers grip.

On instinct her hips buck slightly, eagerly awaiting what’s to come. The feel of his breath on her inner thigh sends her thoughts into a frenzy, only for him to place his lips around the sensitive skin. His kisses are feather light that they almost don’t feel like they’re there, but she’s reminded as soon as his teeth make contact with her skin. A whine escapes her lips at the action, making Aizawa growl.

“Fuck, kitten, you’re so wet for me.”

“Mhm, ah, only for you Daddy- ah fuck!”

All his restraint came undone at the pet name as he wrapped his lips around her folds, sucking and tonguing her with earnest. The way his tongue would flit in and out of her wet hole drove him crazy; it was like she was made for him and only him. He continues to lap at her folds, already starting to feel the pressure build up within her.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum for Daddy this early, eh? All I’ve done with eat you out and I’m not full. Plus,” he sneaks a finger into making her hiss and cuss, “I don’t think you’ve had your fill yet Kitty cat.”

Her moans and whines are music to his ears as he doesn’t let up his ministrations. Now two fingers deep into her, he begins to scissor her open while sucking on her abused and pronounced clit.

“Ah, fuck Sho. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” (Y/n) is breathless as her back arches off the mattress for the umpteenth time. She can feel him smile against her as he lifts up to face her. “Then cum Kitten, cum for Daddy.” His motions speed up and upon hearing her scream out his name mixed with curses, he lets up. God, she looks beautiful like this. Her body is covered in a glimmering layer of sweat, her stomach moving in time with her rampant breathing as she comes down from her high. No one else will get to see her like this, no one. Aizawa wipes away sweat from her brow and leans in to let her taste herself on his tongue. The action alone is enough to make him want to burst, which he is tempted to do.

“Damn, you’re still so wet and slick for me,” he notes swiping a finger against her to reaffirm.

“Babe, rollover. I wanna ride you.”

The lovely man above her lifts an eyebrow at her request, “as you wish, princess.” He is then forcibly pinned, almost like what happened to her not too long ago. “Fuck, you look so hot from down here babe.” He knows that she needs this, to feel to be in charge and take the lead. So he doesn’t help her line up the tip of his hard cock to her entrance, and he doesn’t push himself up into her like he wants.

A wanton moan escapes his lovers lips as she finally settles herself on his cock. She feels the grumble and twitching from her his dick inside her and the feeling is euphoric. The pro-hero’s breath gets shallower as he waits for her to move on him, again holding himself back from taking charge. Once she starts bouncing on his cock, all he can do is whisper and moan out praises and curses. “Fuck, Kitten. That feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah babe? You like the way I’m riding your cock?”

He hisses, “fuck yeah. Please do it more- unf.”

Suddenly he feels a new and ecstatic feeling as she gyrates her hips in ways that have him seeing stars. He’s trying to figure out if there’s some kind of pattern. And then it hits him.

“You spelling your name on my cock, yeah?”

A gasp for air is heard from both of them before she responds, “I’m just, ah, letting you know who this belongs to baby.”

“Ah fuck, Kitten, I’m gonna cum soon. But first,” his voice lowers as he grabs her breast in his hand. His thumb flicks over her nipple, earning another moan before he wraps his lips around it. His tongue continues to work the hardening bud as his hand kneads her mound. His free hand works its way to her clit and begins to rub it fiercely.

“Fuck Shouta, if you keep doing that…”

A slick pop is heard as black eyes bore into lust filled ones. “I know Kitten, we’re so close. Come on, let Daddy cum. Let me cum inside baby.” “Yes, yes ah fuck- FUCK!”

The melodious sound of moans and whimpers fill the once noiseless bedroom as the couple comes down from their highs. They fall onto each other, sweat covered and full of love for each other. Their breathing starts to slow the more they wait out, still being connected by their sexes. (Y/n) is the first to move as she slowly removes herself from her boyfriends embrace, whining at the loss of contact. Aizawa leans up slightly to take in her form and beauty.

“I’ll go grab a towel and some water.”

He pecks her cheek and leaves the room. Once he returns, he sees (Y/n) and fondly smiles. She had finally fallen asleep after everything was said and done. He rolls his eyes but continues to clean up their little mess. He leaves her water glass on her nightstand while he had finished his.

Aizawa pulls the covers over the two of them as he cuddles into his girlfriend, watching her sleep soundly. She looks ethereal right now, no problems or stress on her features.

“I swear I will protect you. Whatever it takes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ha ha hahahahaha it’s so long whoops but yee if the option is there the taglist is open!  @kiribaku-queen @shinsouskitten @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo @cupcake-rogue

#i did the thing #my writing #perchance #aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha aizawa #bnha x y/n #aizawa shouta

[karihighman]

Two is Better Than One: another Upstead one-shot

Hailey thought she had hospitals handled. Besides, it was her that held Jay’s hand the first time he finally got the flu shot.

That was eventful, she thought to herself, thinking back to the morning almost two years ago. Jay was a wreck, complaining the whole way there and back as Voight made it a new requirement for their yearly physical. Hailey knew it was usually required period, so she didn’t know how Jay avoided getting it for so long — especially since his brother, Will, is a doctor at Chicago Med, of all places.

Close and easy. But no, not for Jay. Jay preferred to do things the hard way, which made things interesting for Hailey, though she was used to it by then.

About 6 months after that, Hailey had too much to drink at Molly’s and Jay drove her home. She thanked him for taking such good care of her. “You’re the best partner ever, I love you,” She had said before slowly closing her eyes.

Jay didn’t know what the hell to do with himself, but he knew he wasn’t gonna leave her alone. So, as she passed out in her bed, he camped out on her couch until morning. He even woke her up with the smell of fresh coffee.

“What? No breakfast too?” She quipped, coming out to her kitchen in an oversized shirt and pajama shorts. She must’ve changed, he thought to himself.

Her hair fell in very messy waves around her face, and even with the smudges of mascara underneath her eyelashes, Jay couldn’t help but think she was the most beautiful woman.

And that’s when he realized he loved her too.

It took him a week of semi-awkward surveillance nights and early morning coffee runs before he worked up the courage to invite her to his place. She figured it was just for one of their famous “things that worked,” as their caseload had been ridiculous.

It was. But it also set the stage for Jay’s confession, err, confessions, as he fessed up to Hailey that he never stopped thinking about her slurred words from the week prior.

A very much sober Hailey told him for real that she meant every word, and a very sober Jay repeated those 3 little words back to her. Their whiskey and tequila laid untouched that whole night on his countertop.

They were safe every single night they’d been together. Well, Hailey remembered, except for at Adam and Kim’s wedding.

Oops. In her defense though, they were in Aspen, it was gorgeous, and where else were you supposed to have crazy, over-the-top sex?

That was 2 months ago, and they’d been so busy with work that they barely had time for date nights, let alone time in the bedroom.

They maybe spent 2 nights together since the wedding, one of which they actually just fell asleep on his couch after talking, and the other they both passed out after a night of karaoke with Kevin and Vanessa.

She sighed, as Natalie Manning’s voice brought her back to the present moment, aka: the reason why she was standing in Gaffney Medical Center in the first place. She’d been chasing a suspect when he clocked her on the head with a crowbar.

She had told Jay to go, that she’d be fine as she found her way back to her feet. But, when she faltered a second later, he insisted she go to Med.

She was just thankful Voight forced him to do his statement and finish his paperwork on the incident right then, so he had to duck out of the hospital early.

Will had assured him she’d be fine, if anything she had a concussion. But, upon further inspection, she did have a laceration on her forehead. He gave her a tetanus shot, and pulled her medical chart just to make sure she was up to date on everything else.

When he noticed her oxygen level was low, he consulted Natalie. He wasn’t sure why, since she was perfectly healthy. She countered that maybe he read it wrong, that it was her iron levels. Either way, she ordered a blood draw.

And what she discovered made her stand in front of Hailey as opposed to Will. Natalie white lied and said it was a female issue she needed to discuss with Hailey, she just didn’t tell Will what kind of feminine issue.

“Hailey?” She asked the blonde that sat in front of her.

“Yeah?”

“Have you been feeling lightheaded, nauseous, or anything like that lately?”

“You mean aside from today thanks to my pounding headache?” She tried to joke, but stopped after she saw Natalie’s face didn’t change.

“Yeah, I mean aside from that.”

“Yeah, a few times. But we’ve been working crazy hours trying to catch that burglary crew, which is why I was so pissed off I let the one guy get the jump on me—“

“Hailey,” Natalie said firmly, making the detective go silent.

“You’re pregnant.”

Hailey was shocked. She always, in the very back of her mind, wondered, but she just figured it wouldn’t happen to her. Not like that, anyway.

“Does Jay know?”

“Does Jay know?!” She scoffed, running a hand through her damp hair as Will had to clean her scalp free of any debris from the pipe. “I didn’t even know until five seconds ago! I mean, I suppose I did know...I had this gut feeling, but I brushed it off.”

Natalie sighed, looking down for a moment. “So, you haven’t told him, have you? Or talked to him at all about the possibility?”

Hailey stayed silent, too embarrassed to have been so stupid. She was a cop, for god sake. She should’ve known better, been better.

Natalie looked back up at Hailey, a twinge of solemness in her eyes. “Do you even know if he wants kids?”

Hailey nodded. “He does, I mean, we haven’t talked about it in a formal manner, but I remember he told me at Kim and Adam’s wedding that he wanted this, the whole nine yards. And he grabbed my hand and looked at me like I was the most special thing in the world and was like, ‘and you’re the one I want that with.’ It was the sweetest thing,” she said, getting emotional over it now with the new meaning it held.

Natalie smiled. “See, he just wants the best for you. And I’m sure he wants what’s best for you too. Which means you can’t be so reckless anymore. You could have lost the baby.”

Hailey nodded, realizing she wasn’t just caring for her own life anymore. “I know.”

Natalie added, “And Jay deserves to know, too, Hailey.”

She nodded again, giving Natalie a small, slightly sad smile. She had no idea how on earth she was going to tell her boyfriend that their world was going to change. But, they’d made it through so much together, she knew she had to try.

So, that night when Jay picked her up from the hospital — Will, still clueless as ever to whatever female issue Natalie had talked to Hailey about, told Jay that they were just “finishing up their girl talk.” Natalie had nodded and said Hailey was good to go — she knew she wanted to tell him.

He was walking her up to her door and had helped her inside to her sofa when she asked him if he could sit with her.

“Of course,” he had said, asking her if she wanted anything to eat or drink first.

She shook her head no, but told him she did have something she needed to say.

He got serious, an adorable crease in his forehead taking shape as his brows furrowed in concern.

“What is it, Hails?”

“I—“ she sucked in some much needed air, willing herself to push through.

“Jay,” she tried again. “I’m pregnant.”

He was speechless. And Hailey opened her mouth to tell him anything, like she didn’t mean for it to happen (she really didn’t), or that she didn’t mean to spring this on him (she really hadn’t)...when she realized Jay’s eyes were teary.

“Jay?” She whispered, feeling tears well up in her eyes too.

He just took her hands in his, and looked deeply into her eyes. “Hailey, I love you. So so much. And I’m gonna love our baby just the same. I just— wow, I know it’s not something we planned, but after everything we’ve been through, it just seems like the perfect little miracle, doesn’t it?”

She sniffled, laughing lightly. “Yeah, it sure does.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, Jay kissing her back with just as much softness. He released one of her hands, and he put his on her stomach. Hailey laughed, knowing she definitely wasn’t showing right now.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m just trying to suss out whether it’s gonna be a boy or a girl” he said excitedly.

“Jay, we can’t tell the sex for months! Plus, I already know you want a boy.”

He looked at her, his forehead creasing once again.

So, she continued. “Don’t you? That way Owen would have a playmate, you could teach him all the sports trivia or to love that damn truck as much as you do, or—“

She paused mid sentence when he vehemently shook his head, disagreeing with her sentiment.

She was shocked. “Wait. You’re actually okay with a girl?”

He smiled, pulling her intertwined hand in his down to her stomach. “Yeah, I am. Because she’ll be just like her mom. Brilliant, brave, and beautiful.”

Hailey knew a few tears slipped down her cheeks that time. “Really?”

“Yes really.” Jay said, smiling earnestly. He brushed her tears away with his thumb. “Plus, I can scare all her future boyfriends away by putting them in the cage or showing up with a shotgun.” He broke into one of those boyish grins that made Hailey roll her eyes.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” She said, trying to stay a tiny bit annoyed.

“Yeah, I know. But I also know that you love me anyway. And I love you—“ he paused, leaning down to talk to her belly. “And whatever this little one turns out to be, a whole hell of a lot.”

“Heck, Jay, language!”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever you say, Hailey Anne.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You love me anyway.”

Yeah, that he did. And she just the same.

____

*original prompt by @upsteadlover on Twitter; request made by @onechicagofam_ on Twitter; photos of Natalie & Hailey w/in prompt tweet by @onechicagoedits on Twitter; gif by @xofeno (: // words by me, of course*

#chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #fanfic prompt #upstead au #if upstead had a baby #pregnant hailey #worried jay #natalie manning #chicago med #infection #based off of that hospital scene #cpd season 7 #fanfiction writing #cpd prompt #upstead prompt #upstead fanfiction #my writing #chicago pd au #if upstead were a couple #if upstead were gonna be parents #otp: we’re good together #otp: my girlfriend #twitter prompt #will halstead #they’d be great parents #season 8 will be their year

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #383

“the big bully try to stick his finger in my chest  /  try to tell me, tell me he’s the best  /  i don’t really give a good goddamn ‘cuz i got my lunchbox & i’m armed real well”

Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Well yeah. Most of my friends are online, and while I've seen pictures of most at least once or twice, some I still haven't. The last time you threw up, what caused it? It was a side effect of a mood stabilizer I started. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something, idk. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Yes. Have you ever had a stalker? No. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? It makes me self-conscious way more than anything. I start to obsess over whether or not the person things poorly or weirdly of me for liking what I like. I just feel judged for liking it, but that's my problem. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? I do, actually. It feels kinda affectionate to me. Do you often find yourself checking out people’s butts? Haha I'm not gonna say it's never happened, but it's not something I make a habit out of for sure. What fandoms are you in? MEERKAT MANOR IS BACK BAYBEEEE, Markiplier, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, Spyro, Wings of Fire, and lots more, honestly. I'm into a lot of stuff, and I don't love in moderation, haha. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? Yeah, like Supernatural, Good Mythical Morning, or Warriors, but it wasn't out of "I don't like it anymore" or anything, I just drifted away. Anything the fans in your fandoms do that pisses you off? World of Warcraft if particular has one of the most toxic fucking fanbases. There are so many goddamn elitists and people who whine about "boohoo WoW is dying" and "omg this game has been trash since Wrath" and yada yada yada and it's annoying as hell. They always find some shit to complain about. Then Silent Hill... ugh. I think people just hop onto the "the series sux after 1-4" bandwagon to fit in with a certain crowd, but that's not the main thing that annoys me; rather, it's the fact the former main admin of the SH wiki made a fucking joke out of us there. He was clearly having personal issues and made a HUGE and utterly ridiculous deal of Silent Hill 4 having heavy symbolism to the main character being obsessed with the bullshit idea of him being circumcised, and it led to a maaaassive thread of us members trying to talk some damn sense into him as he abused his power. He was finally banned by the Wikia staff, but not in time for some gaming websites to publish "news" stories about it because it was just that ludicrous. Now, YEARS later, we still get trolls coming onto the site to try and revive the drama by inserting absolute rubbish into pages or making new ones. Nowadays I'm the main administrator there, and it's fucking embarrassing sometimes. I'm supposed to keep the wiki under control and respected, you know? Ugh, I'll stop. I could rant for a very long time about this. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffly. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don’t cook. What color do you want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, lilac, and a light creamsicle orange. I REALLY want to dye it SOMETHING. :( How do you like your chicken? Of course breaded (like nuggets, tenders) is my favorite, but I also enjoy is broiled and seasoned well. There's other ways, but because I don't cook, I, uh... don't know how a lot are made lmao. Do you enjoy cheese fries? UUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH YES. Do you eat refried beans? I absolutely hate beans, so no. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? A whole lot because a lot of it is from restaurants and we don't eat out all that much. As well, my diet is very narrow just because of how picky I am. Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn? Why? I mean, what are we comparing them for? I think Audrey is fucking gorgeous, though. Marilyn is also beautiful. Favorite fictional world? Uh, I dunno. Do you use lint rollers often? No. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I think so. Other than a dislike button, what’s something you wish Facebook had? Hm, I dunno. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Mom can't work right now, but I think Dad gets off around 5PM. Are you afraid to ask people out on dates? Yep. Do you think it’s better to look for love or let it find you? Both can work, but I definitely prefer to let it find me. I feel that *in general* that usually has better results. Have you ever found yourself worrying about commitment? No. I'm a very committed person romantically. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? No. Have you ever had a rash from poison ivy? I don't believe so, no. Do you have any chairs in your bedroom? No. Did you watch Elmo as a child? Some, yeah. Do you know anyone who doesn’t eat meat? I don't think so, off the top of my head. When you throw up, do you cry? No, but I'm a whiner and will also shake from fear because I have such a phobia of vomiting. Doing it totally turns me into a baby. Who was the last person to carry you? I couldn't tell you the last person to full-on carry me, but back when I tore a ligament in my foot, my mom kinda had me lifted when she would help me walk. Is it easy for you to accept loss? Absolutely not. I handle it very, very poorly. Have you done anything sneaky lately? No. Have you ever had a rolling back pack? Yes. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom, probably. Would you ever want to go to Brazil? Sure, if the opportunity came up. Are there any medical conditions that run in your family? A lot, mostly heart problems. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica imo. Who is the biggest jerk you've ever met? She was somehow my former best friend. Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never been in that situation, thankfully. What's a charity you would never donate to? I'm really not familiar enough with charities and their practices to know which ones are sketch or not. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you have any exes you'd consider dating again? Yes. What were some of your favorite classes you took in high school? Art and German. Mythology was fun, too. Do you know anyone with a profession in law? Yeah, I have a cousin that's a lawyer. Have you ever Googled yourself? Yeah, outta curiosity. What's the shortest amount of time you've had between relationships? Like, two days. Part of the reason I left Girt was because I liked Sara. As a child, what comfort foods did your parents make for you when you were sick with a cold or flu? Chicken noodle soup. What's a movie series where the sequel was better than the original? Ha, for some reason Inspector Gadget came to mind. I guess from mentioning my childhood. I was FUCKING OBSESSED with that movie as a kid. The first one's fine, but I love the second one. Does your car have heated seats? Mom's doesn't. What is the strangest pizza topping you've ever eaten? Nothing strange, really. Describe your hometown. What’s it like there? Small and dangerous. Lots of run-down areas. A gang nearly broke into our house once, if that helps you get the picture. What was the last video game you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 forever ago. What did you learn from your last failed relationship? It really just taught me that you need to take care of your own mental health before you can effectively handle another's properly and strike a healthy balance. What country does your favorite band hail from? Britain. What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Finish decorating my room. -_- Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Good Mythical Morning, I suppose. I used to be OB-SESSED. I still adore Rhett and Link as people, they are fucking wonderful human beings and excellent entertainers, I just drifted away from their content. I don't really know why. Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? No. What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? Menstrual cycles, I'd say. It affects your mood so much, and as someone who's bipolar, it can be very confusing. I like to know why I'm feeling a certain way. What movie has the best special effects? /shrug How many work hours per week is too much for you? I wouldn't know, I've never really worked long enough to figure this out. Can you remember your first day of school? I think I have the faintest memory of it. I know I was very scared to leave my mom (I had absolutely awful separation anxiety from her) and I MIGHT have cried, but I don't really recall with certainty. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No thanks. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Most, no, because the level of cringe is LITERALLY unbearable for me. Do you have a safe? Mom does somewhere. What’s the scariest thing to happen to you so far? The breakup. That night was just fucking terrifying. I was so certain my life was over, like the situation was so, so impossible in my head. What was your last dream about? (or your daydream if you don’t remember) My memory's faint, but I just remember I had a nightmare where a LOT of my bones were totally snapped in half. When was the last time you saw a relative? Excluding my immediate family, I last saw my now-departed grandmother and my uncle a while back at a hotel as they were passing through. Have you ever been in a TV audience? No. Are you in any way close to reaching a personal goal? Not really... Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Do you like making collages? Not really. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? No. What would you love to learn to do? Digital art, like drawing on a tablet. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Lemurs. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot, 100%. Are you more shy in real life or on the internet? I am WAY more shy irl.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''lunchbox'' by marilyn manson

[too-much-sunshine]

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 5

Summary: After Roman leaves his family reunion mad at Remus, his car breaks down. The huge snow storm forces him into the forest hes always been told to stay away from. Who will he meet? And why are they being so nice? Most importantly, why are his teeth so sharp?

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Relationship: Familial DAM, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings (per chapter): Some Panicky thoughts from Roman, mention of late parents, reference to homophobia/transphobia (Romans family just sucks),

Catch up!:  Master list, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Word Count: 3241

Read on AO3!

Roman opened his eyes to light shining in his face. It wasn't extremely unpleasant since it was warm, but his eyes burning was something he didn't want to continue. He rolled to the side of the bed and faced a...fireplace? Oh yeah...He was in a random person's house...after almost freezing to death..in the middle of a scary forest…

‘If I wasn't terrified, I’d make the joke that Remus would be so jealous.’ Roman thought as he slowly sat up in the bed. It seems the person he'd met last night was right about sleeping to gain strength back. He could actually use his arms now.

Sitting up he realized the room looked very different in the light of the day then in the dark of night. It was very nicely put together. The walls were a nice pale yellow with the beams in the ceiling exposed to show the nice dark lacquer. The furniture of the room matched the dark coloring of the exposed wood with some red and gold accents as well. The room looked regal, and expensive, dramatic even. Roman felt a bit out of place.

Roman closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He still felt a bit out of his wits, but he was starting to calm down a bit in the quiet of the morning.

“Hello!!” A loud voice said from his right.

This caused Roman to startle so bad he was within inches of falling off the bed. Most of the  sense of calmness he worked up immediately was lost in a matter of seconds. Roman brought his hand up to his rapidly beating heart as he took gulping breaths in.

“Oh no! Don’t worry! I’m not here to hurt you! I just wanted to say hi and actually meet you! You kinda died last time we met and I just wanted to make sure you are okay! Daddy says you just got really really cold and when I’m really cold I like warm hugs but I’ve been told that I’m supposed to ask people if they want a hug first but I couldn't ask you because you fell asleep.” The child took a deep breath since they had not since they started speaking.

Roman took a long moment to catch up to what the child had said. They just spoke so fast with such expressiveness Roman couldn't keep up. Let alone he was sure this room was empty not a minute before the child had spoken.

The child stood in the corner of the room with an amazingly bright smile. They rocked back a forth on their heels making their curly brown hair bounce around with them. The child was wearing light blue overall with a pastel yellow shirt that had white flowers embroidered on it. They looked to be around 8 years old and if Roman remembered correctly this was the kid that opened the door last night. Did he ever get their name? He couldn't remember.

Roman realized that the child was waiting for an answer to their question. Their question to….Oh! Hug Roman. They wanted a hug. From Roman? And he doesn't even remember the kids name. But the longer Roman took to answer the more the kid was looking dejected. Panicking, Roman answered them.

“Umm. I...Suppose?” Roman slowly opened his arms.

The child's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning and climbed up the bed. The speed at which this child climbed up to him surprised Roman a little. They crawled into Romans arms and burrowed their face into Romans chest. Roman sat frozen for a long minute, then slowly lowered his arms around the small child.

For someone so small, they were quite warm. Roman couldn't remember the last time he had had a real hug. Distantly he thought about how it was kind of sad that the first hug he could remember was from a child that he didn't even know the name of. But he pushed that thought aside and squeezed the small child a little tighter.

He was very surprised at how trusting this child was. He was basically a stranger to this kid and yet they were so...comfortable around him. He had never met someone so trusting, even for a child.

“You know there's a spell on your door, right?” The child spoke suddenly, interrupting Romans thoughts and still huddled close.

“Oh there is, is there? How so?” Roman smirked. He missed the whimsical way children would speak. This one must have a big imagination. Much like Roman did when he was their age.

“You can’t see it? Look!” The child turned and shuffled so he was still close to Roman, but was now seated at his side under his arm.

They then pointed at the door and looked up at Roman with big, excited eyes.

“Look at the door! There's a yellow outline around it! That means daddy put a spell on it!” The child smiled brightly, then suddenly it turned into a childish pout. “I don’t know what it is though. I haven't been able to find out cause I’m not good at magic.” They huffed as they crossed their arms.

“Aww hey bud don’t say that! I’m sure you’ll get better. You just need some practice is all! Do you have a wand or something? Maybe I can help you!” Roman replied, smiling at the kid. Their eyes started to shine with unbridled excitement.

“You know magic!?” They asked, jumping off the bed.

“Of course I do! I’m a Prince after all! All princes know magic in some way! I just haven't practiced in a long time so forgive me if I’m a bit rusty.” Roman said with a smile as he also finally got out of bed. He got to his feet just fine, though he still felt a little weak. Though it was something he could easily brush off, the room was spinning a bit. But he had a child to entertain! And playing pretend was Romans favorite game. Roman took a deep breath and pushed past his slight weakness.

Roman walked to stand near the kid at the foot of the bed.

“Now! Where is this wand of yours?” He asked the excitable child.

“Oh, I don’t have one! Dad said that I draw my magic from the earth and stuff. So anything thats alive I can draw my power from!” They said with a big toothy grin, striking a power pose.

“Wow that's really cool! You must have been doing this magic stuff for a long time to know so much.” Roman praised. He would admit that was quite detailed for a child. But being this far out in the woods he's sure he could come up with some expensive magic lore as well.

“Well yea,” the child said, “Dad said I was born a witch!”

Roman continued to smile and nod even though he didn't quite understand. The person he talked to last night seemed quite nice. Definitely not the type to call their child a witch from birth. Though that's a pretty small insult so the child most likely didn't understand. He supposed he didn't actually know the person… Maybe he wasn't as kind as he had originally thought.

Roman thought it best to continue to play along with the child. They seemed to be having fun and Roman had to admit that he was also getting a bit into the game of make-believe. “Well that is really cool! I myself was born a Prince as you were born a witch. But not too long ago an evil woman tried to take away my title! So I ran away to live on my own and chose to keep my name as Prince Roman.” As Roman told his short tale the child listened with rapt attention.

“Woooww! That's amazing you must be so stroongg!! That lady must be so mean! I’m gonna beat her up for you!” They brought their fists up to show their...lack luster strength. But Roman appreciated the sentiment.

“That's okay kid. I don’t think I’m gonna see her again. I don’t want to go back there anymore anyway. Now! Let's do some magic! Show what you can do!”

“Okay!” They said. “But…” The child got really close to Roman and pulled him down by the sleeve to whisper in his ear. “Don’t tell my dad. He doesn’t like when I do magic in the house when he can’t watch.”

Roman smiled at the new seriousness that the child took on. Roman mimicked the same eer a well.

“You have a Prince's honor.” Roman said as he raised his right arm.

The kid gave him a once over. Seemingly finding what they were looking for, they took a step back and closed their eyes.They took several deep breaths and held their hands palm up in front of themself. While continuing to breath, they started to sway a bit.

Roman continued watching closely to see how long this kid was gonna commit to the whole ‘I can do magic’ thing. He was waiting for something small to happen, like a creek in the floorboards or a sudden draft, to blame on the kid. He would of course hype it up to say they moved a mountain or caused an incoming storm.

But before either of them even had a chance to speak up, heavy footsteps could be heard bounding toward the closed door. The door banged open hitting the wall, which caused Roman to jump. In the doorway to reveal a less than pleased looking Janus with a small child poised on their hip.

They paused at the door seeing that Roman was out of bed and standing next to the foot of the bed. His son was in the center of the room, doing his deep breathing exercise he had taught him to help manage his magic. Looks like he showed up just in time.

Roman stood frozen, starting at the person in the doorway. Were they the same person that he had met last night? They looked so much different in the light of the day. The slim, yet on the shorter side. They had dark black curly hair mostly covered by their circular black hat. They were wearing a yellow turtleneck sweater tucked into black high waisted pinstripe pants.

The small child they were holding was hiding their face in the sweater. They were wearing a small purple beanie that covered their black hair. The scared child was holding a stuffed toy of the cartoon animal Stitch so tight his tiny knuckles were white. They couldn't have been any older than 3 years old.

Janus finished assessing the scene in front of him and finally spoke up, addressing his child.

“Patton dear, what have I told you about magic without my knowledge?” Janus asked, slightly bouncing the toddler.

“To not do it in the house…” Patton said, hanging his head.

Janus sighed. “It's okay honey. Just want to make sure you're safe while...playing.” He said the last word slowly, while looking directly at Roman.

“But dad! He said he's a Prince! And that he knows magic as well! He was going to help me learn to control my magic more and then I was going to help him beat up some old lady who tried to make him not be a Prince!” They said looking back and forth between Roman and Janus. All previous shame gone in an instant.

“Is he now?” Janus inquired. “Well here I was treating you like a normal person.” Janus looked over Roman, who looked very uncomfortable, and bowed deeply. The child on his hip started to giggle, peeking their eyes out. “Now, your highness I promised you breakfast this morning but since you are already up you can join the rest of us at our table? I can guarantee it won’t be as grand as you are used too, but I’m sure we can work something out.” He grabbed the child that was on his hip under their arms and placed them by his feet. “Patton dear, can you take your little brother to the dining room and set up a bit? Breakfast will be done shortly and I wish to speak with the Prince.”

“Okay daddy! Let's go Virgey! I pour you some juice and then we can color!” Patton grabbed the little child's hand as skipped out of the room. If Roman would have looked any closer he might have seen the door glow a faint yellow for a second, before the color faded away.

Janus watched his kids leave the room with a small smile on his face. After they were completely out of earshot Janus turned fully to Roman.

“So. A Prince you say?” Janus asked.

Roman was extremely uncomfortable. He felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Yet there was really no reason to feel this way. He just… did when people talked to him. He always just assumes he's in trouble. He decided though that the truth is the best course of action here.

“Haha yeah no not really. Patton just seemed really into the whole magic thing so I thought I’d play along. They are very sweet…”

“They?” Janus asked, raising an eyebrow. It was off topic from where he wanted to go in his questioning, but his curiosity caused him to pose the question anyway.

Roman froze. Did he fuck up again? He shouldn't have let the slip when he didn't know how tolerant these people were. They were as close as you could be to living under a rock. They were so far in the forest.

Then again maybe they would be cool with it? It's not like Roman knew the gender of any of the people here so he just… Didn’t want to assume anything.

But that excuse did not work in his family. When he said that before he had gotten a long lecture from just about everyone in his family. It was like they all took turns, repeating the exact same ignorant shit. He remembers leaving that specific Christmas party and just crying alone in his apartment. That was not a good night.

Roman was so lost in thought he didn't even realize when Janus took a few steps closer to him. Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts Roman looked back up to Janus. He took a deep breath and hid his slightly shaking hands behind his back. He decided he might as well try and explain the truth again.

“I...I didn't want to assume any of your genders and none of you explicitly told me. I didn't want to be rude.” Roman said not directly looking at Janus.

Janus was largely taken aback. He was not expecting the stranger to be so...considerate. Janus looked the stranger up and down, searching for any sign he was lying to him. Finding nothing that could condemn him as such he decidedly spoke instead.

“Well that's very kind of you. I myself go by he/him. Both my sons do for now, but they are welcome to say otherwise whenever, or if ever, they wish. You?” Janus asked slowly.

“Umm… He/him as well…” Roman answered in a slightly shocked state. He never in a million years thought that Janus would be so chill about it all. It was such a stark reaction to everyone he had ever talked to about these things. Except the one person at the theater he had met, they were very chill since they were nonbinary. Roman had learned a lot from them.

But even if Janus was chill now, Roman still felt that everyone had a limit. So maybe he should just say he only used he/him and grin and bare it for now.

“Mhmm,” Janus hummed, “Okay, now that that's out of the way, I would like to know when my son came into the room? I happened to be taking Virgil to the kitchen when I heard Pat from outside the door. How long had he been here?”

Janus seemed slightly concerned, and Roman only had a few guesses why. Most of which included leaving a child with a random stranger that they had only met last night. But once he started to think about it, he knew when Patton scared him, but not how he came in. Surly Roman would have seen the door open; it faced the bed. Roman took a few steps back till he took a seat on the bed.

“To be honest I don’t quite remember when he got in here. I didn't see him come in, only when he scared the beegeebies out of me when he said hi. So maybe only about 20 minutes? I’m sorry. I understand why you wouldn't want me around your kids. I don't know you and you don’t know me. Sorry I randomly showed up at your door. Pat and I didn't do much, just played a bit of pretend before you showed up. Oh and he also wanted a hug when he first showed up. Sorry if you didn't want me too but he just looked like he would cry if I said no and I didnt want that so he crawled on the bed and we talked about magic for a bit.” Roman said, speeding toward the because he was running out of breath. He was also getting a bit anxious at the way Janus was just staring at him.

Janus was more interested in the fact that they talked about magic more than he was that Patton had hugged him. Pat was a very touchy child. His biological parents were very giving when it came to physical affection, so Patton was very used to it when he was taken in by Janus. Janus had to get used to Patton just running and hugging him. It had taken quite a while to teach him to ask first.

“Oh you talked about magic? What did Pat say?” Janus inquired.

Roman was a bit confused at the path the questions were taking. But not wanting to upset Janus anymore then he assumed he already had, Roman answered anyway.

“Umm.. Ye-yea. He told me the door had a spell on it and told me that he's bad at magic. And I’m never one to turn down a kid's wild imagination so I entertained him a bit. I told him that I would help him practice since I’m a magic Prince. You showed up right before he showed me any of his magic tricks though. I was just playing along with him, not trying to lie.”

Janus sighed and nodded his head. He looked around the room seemingly trying to find something to say.

“Okay. Well, I’d appreciate it if you weren't alone with my children. You are still a stranger to us and I’m not willing to trust you yet. You should probably feel the same about me. Now, let's take this talk to the dining room and we can decide where to go from here. Follow me.” As Janus finished he turned around, waved from Roman to follow, then walked out the door.

Not wanting to keep Janus waiting, he quickly followed him, still not noticing the faintly glowing door.

Next Chapter!

Taglist:

@primaveradoodles @bluerosesbleedred

#sanders sides fanfiction #eventual roceit #eventual intrulogical #fluff #TftH #Roman sanders #Janus Sanders #Virgil sanders #patton sanders #magic au #verys fic #homophobia mention #transphobia mention

[srta-peppa]

Hii again! 💞 Here I am at 2:30am knowing perfectly that almost of all you are sleeping but i guess this could be a nice thing to wake up. Or I hope at least. I know I told you guys I was going to finish the fic this week, but I lied... 🙈 hahaha I also lied when I said it will be 2k per chapter because here I’m with a 4k ch and thinking about an epilogue (So 5 ch in total and not only 4) but you dont care about all of this. So I hope you like this part as much as the other and thank you so much. 🥰💗🥰💗 (ao3 link on the title)

Ch 1 // Ch 2

.

“The things i do for you”

Chapter 3:

We have been in two more parties after that one, and things should not go well because Robbe is every day more into the fake relationship. We arrived early at the next party, this time the house is from Jens’s ex-girlfriend, Jana, I think. Robbe has told me about it because he thinks we should look especially loving with the other since Jens still has feelings for her. Well... we are definitely doing the part of being affectionate, but I’m not so sure that this is stoping Jens in any way. 

As soon as we got there, Robbe made us sit on a sofa in the garden. His friends were already there, so they talked a little bit. Robbe was between my legs resting against my chest while I played with his hair. We must be like that for just ten minutes before Robbe kissed me. At the moment I thought we were going to kiss for a few moments and then he would be talking with his friends again. Well, that was not the case. 

It’s already midnight, and I told you that we came early and that Robbe spoke with his Moyo and Jens for only ten or fifteen minutes. So I think it is fair to say that we been kissing in front of them for at least TWO HOURS! And don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining, but, to be honest, if we keep it like this, I might be dead by the end of the night. 

“Robbe, man are you going to be sucking your boyfriend’s face all night,” Jens says, his voice sound annoyed, but I can’t tell why. 

I mean, I will be annoyed too if my best friend let me alone for three parties in a row. Robbe didn’t hear him or doesn’t care because he keeps kissing me. I hear Jens calling him one more time. 

Moving my kisses along his jaw, I whisper in his ear. “Baby?” I say while I pretend to be playing with his earring. 

“Humm?” Robbe murmur and doesn’t open his eyes. 

I chuckle softly, he seems to be in his own bubble. “Baby… Jens wants your attention.” 

“Who?” He says, hiding his face in my neck. 

“The man of your dreams,” I joke. 

“You are the man of my dreams” He whispers between kisses on my skin.  

I feel like my whole body freeze. “What?” 

“What?” Robbe says confused, this time, he is more alert and looking at me. 

“What did you say?” I ask because he couldn’t have said what I think he said, right? 

“I said, Johan, is the man of my dreams…” The fuck is he talking about? “The Dutch football player... I was joking,” Robbe says, laughing and caressing my frown.  

“Oh, okay..” I have no clue of what Robbe had said, I’m not a big football fan like him, but I guess it has more sense than what I heard. 

“Hey, bro, are you going to be all night eating Sander’s face? It’s like the third night you ignore us. You have him all the time, what about us?” Jens tries again now that Robbe is not distracted. 

And at this point, I’m pretty sure Robbe’s best friend is not jealous of me because I’m his ‘boyfriend’ but more possible because of how little time his best friend hangs with him nowadays. I tried to say it to Robbe yesterday, but once again, he didn’t listen. 

Robbe’s cheeks turn pink, and I hug him from behind. “Yes, you are right. I’m sorry I got to carry away.”  

“It’s fine Robbe, I get you guys are in the honeymoon phase. Wanna come inside for some new drinks?” Jens offers. 

“Yes! Give me a sec,” Robbe says, and Jens only nods at him, already heading to the house. 

Robbe looks at me, smiling, and I smile at him too. He is so sweet and I'm so fucking in love. He gets closer and bumps his nose with mine. 

“He is not here anymore, you know?” I ask playfully. 

“I know,” He says in the same tone. Robbe doesn’t move. “Jens can wait for a minute.”

Robbe takes my face in his hands and kisses me again. He is so tendered and gentle; he makes it super easy to get lost in it.  

“This part of your plan?” I say after some time pass. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” Robbe answers without stoping his kisses. 

“You need to go,” I laugh. 

“In a minute,” He pushes himself further in my body. 

“A minute has passed,” I joke. 

“I’m going,” He says, not moving or stoping our kiss. 

“I still see you here,” Robbe whine and starts to stand up, pulling my face giving me peaks in my mouth. 

“No, you don’t.” He pouts, making me laugh even more. 

“Baby, you need to go,” 

“Okay, okay” He finally says

Robbe walks a few steps before coming back to me. 

“One more,” He says, leaning down to kiss me again.

We kiss for a minute, deeply. After another minute pass, my neck hurts because of the rare position we are kissing. But before I can move, Robbe pushes away to look at my eyes. He smiles, and like he didn’t have just stole my heart, he runs towards the house. 

What the fuck had just happened. 

**

Thursdays are busy days for me. I work part-time in a tattoo shop while I finish my two last years of college. I’m drawing the sketches for my weekend clients and some original pieces in case anyone comes wanting a random tattoo. I like my job, I can paint all day, people used to be really kind, and because the owner is my best friend, I get to keep the majority of my profits. Noor only let me pay my part of the bills and nothing more. 

I’m drawing a European dragon for a girl I have on Saturday when my phone beeps. Usually, I don’t answer it while I’m drawing, but it must be Robbe for the time. The only moments when I don’t respond to him are because I’m with a client, yes I’m weak for him. 

“I think u should send me some photos,” I read, and I don’t have a fucking clue of what it’s he saying, so I call him. 

“Hey, baby,” I say once Robbe picks up. 

“Hi! Have you finished early today? I missing you…” 

“I miss you too, but I still have work.” 

“Buuuh… I can’t wait to see you.” 

“That’s why you want the photo?” I ask unsure, he has never done that, but he’s been acting weird lately. 

 “Yes, I guess I can say so.” 

 “Okay, I’m gonna send you a selfie later, send me one too” 

“What? No, that’s no the type of photo I meant.” 

Suddenly an idea hit me. I’m possibly wrong. No! I have to be wrong. 

“What kind of photo do you want, baby?” I ask, instead. 

“Wait! I do want the selfie. Miss your pretty face.” 

“I miss you too, baby.” I see Noor rolling her eyes. But being real, we haven’t seen each other for a week.  

Robbe has a big exam coming tomorrow, and he wanted to be focus only on that. Sure, we speak every night, but it’s not the same. 

“Don’t avoid my question what type of photo?”  

“I have been thinking…” Robbe says and a month ago that wouldn’t scare me. Today? I’m terrified. “We need to have some hot pics from the other on our phones and some dirty chats. It won’t be realistic if we don’t.” 

Yep, that’s precisely what I had thought.  

“Who is going to see our phones, Robbe?” 

“I don’t know anyone! Jens uses my phone a lot. He says I have a better camera for our skate videos.” 

“Okay, but why would Jens look into our chats?” 

“No, the chat, the gallery.” 

“Okay, I get what you mean, yet we are not doing it.” 

“Why not? It hasn’t to thaaat dirty.” 

“No, no, no. I’m not texting you that only to make Jens jealous.” 

“Humm.. okay, can I text you some?”  

Kill me if I don’t want those photos, but just because of that is why I won’t accept it. I can’t do it, those photos would mean totally different things for us. And yes, when we kiss is similar, but I know Robbe at least enjoys kissing me. The phots would be a completely different story. 

“Why don’t you take them and leave them there? If Jens is going to see the gallery, he won’t actually know you didn’t send it to me.”

“Oh! You’re right… sometimes you are such a genius.” 

“Sometimes?” 

“Yes, if you were like that all the time, you would accept my photos. I guess it’s your loss, I have some notable photos.” Robbe says, making me laugh, maybe he is right.  

We talked for a few moments more before Robbe had to go back to his study. Once we hang up, I rest my forehead on the table. 

“He is going to kill me Noor... and I will fucking thank him,” I say, looking at the floor. 

“What does lovely Robbe ask you this time? It can’t be worst than kiss him to make someone else jealous.” She asks, amused. 

“He wanted us to send dirty photos to each other,” I admit in a whisper. 

“Damn, your boy likes to torture, or he is doing it on propose?” Noor asks, but the reality can not be farther away from it. 

“Robbe is not even aware that I could at least get horny because of him.” And I honestly don’t know-how. It’s not like I’m that great of an actor. 

“Hahaha, well, I think its good you tell him no, sometimes you are too soft with his desired.” 

A deep silence grows between us. What should I say? That I finally tell him no because I won’t be able to not see those pics and not want to pin him in the wall.  

“Sander…?” Noor says with wide eyes, “Please tell me you don’t fucking agree to do it!” 

“I don’t agree, but not because of that. It was because of how bad I want those photos. I’m still soft.” 

So fucking soft for him, and I’m so shameless about it. I mean I literally call him baby, I kiss his cheeks and neck all the time. I know people notice it, Robbe’s friends, our families, my best friend Noor. She actually didn’t believe me that we weren’t together until she met Robbe. I was even dumped by my ex because of my love for Robbe.   

“You need help, man. And I think I have the best idea.” Noor smiles maliciously.  

“What idea?” I frown, I don’t like how this sounds. 

“Have you told him Lucas is coming back this weekend?” She says. 

“No, why would I? He doesn’t like him.” I say, trying to not assume the worst. 

“Of course he doesn’t, Luc steal your attention from him.” Noor laughs like it was apparent. 

And I wish it was true, but Lucas definitely didn’t steal my attention from Robbe. Lucas knows it, even Robbe knows it. 

“Nobody steals my attention from him, Noor. I thought that was the problem.” I say.

“Okay, but you give Lucas more than you gave to the rest of us even if it less than to Robbe,” Noor admits my biggest shame. Robbe holds all the power over me. “He knows it, and that’s why he doesn’t like your Lucas.” 

“He is not my Lucas anymore, Noor.” 

And He is not with me because Lucas is not fucking blind like Robbe is. Robbe didn’t like him from the start, he told me Luc seems too much like a snake. On the other hand, Lucas did like Robbe; he told me he totally gets why I was in love with my best friend. We were together for two months before they met, and tried to stay together for one month more after they met. It didn't work.

“Nah, details.” She waves off my words.

“I’m not gonna use my ex to make Robbe jealous. I think we already have enough with him and his best friend,” I say. 

Lucas doesn’t deserve that, and neither does Robbe. If he wants to be oblivious for the rest of his life is his call and not mine. 

“I’m not saying you should kiss your ex-boyfriend. Just let Robbe know he is here,” Noor explains, but I can see her intentions.

If you want to know what happened in the end, he dumped me. Lucas wasn’t mad at me, but he said that it was challenging to be with someone that already had all of his ‘needs’ covered by someone else and that if he could only give me sex, it was better to end things. And as a shame as I got back then it was the truth. I like him, I care for him, and I’m sure that if I didn’t have Robbe, I would fall in love with him. But in the real-life, I am madly in love with my best friend, and Luc was nothing more than a friend with benefits. Well, he kinda still is. Yet now that things were clear between us, it is so much more healthy.  

**

Friday night came quickly, and thank goodness because I can’t stand not seeing my baby boy anymore. A knock in the door surprise me Robbe has his own key. When I open the door a pair of blue eyes stare at me, Lucas has a cocky smile on his lips like he knows something I don’t. 

“Hi sexy,” Lucas says, and before I can greet him back, he is kissing me. 

It’s not that we don’t kiss. We fool around a lot when he came to visit, but not like this, it only happens when we are in the mood. What it's usually late at night after a few drinks. When Lucas finally pull off, I see it. Behind him is Robbe lying in the wall, arms crossed, and an annoyed look on his eyes. He is mad as hell, and I suddenly understand the love show, but why…? Oh, wait! Noor. She told him, and of course, Lucas is in. He had always like to annoy Robbe.    

“Are you going to come in?” I ask Robbe when he doesn’t move. 

“I don’t know, is he going to stay?” He says grumpily. 

I know I shouldn’t because Robbe is trying to look mad, but he looks so adorable. I want to eat him, kiss by kiss. 

“No, Luc just came to drop some stuff I asked him from Amsterdam,” I say more for Lucas than for Robbe. 

Robbe doesn’t answer, he enters without hugging me even if we hadn’t seen each other for a whole week. We sit on the floor where I have some pillows and blankets as a couch. I don’t need to tell you that Robbe sat in my lap and ignored Luc for the ten minutes that we probably spend talking, right? Once Lucas left, we decide to go for some cheeseburgers to our favorite bar. 

Usually, we eat in the same spot on the sofas next to the window. Yet tonight something is different we are in our place, but Robbe isn’t sitting in front of me like always, he doesn’t even sits next to me. He is literally as glue to my body as a public place will allow it. Robbe is turned to the side so he can look at me. He also has his leg on top of mine under the table, and he is stealing my chips. I can think that it is because of our time apart and that he has missed me yet… something feels too much for one week of not seen each other. 

“I want you to give me a hickey,” Robbe says out of nowhere, and of course, he does it while I’m drinking. 

“What?” I manage to say after I have choked with my soda. 

“Yeah, couples do it,” Robbe says, caressing my back like it would help me to stop the cough. 

This is a big red flag. This needs to stop now! Robbe has to be joking. I mean… really? No, he doesn’t want that. He is joking, he is joking, he is joking. 

“Not all couples, baby,” I say because if I question him and this is not a joke, he will be mad at me again, but we all know it is a joke. 

Robbe looks at me like I’m dumb, and at this point, I think I am. Fuck, did I tell you how close this position makes us be? Too close. 

“Okay, but if you do, I can make Jens jealous even when you are not there,” Robbe explains. 

He wasn’t joking. I feel my body panic, I told him no one time yesterday. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it one more time, even less now that we are face to face. Tonight he can pull off his pup’s eyes and enchant me with his soft honey baby voice. This fight is lost before it has started, and for the smile, on his lips, Robbe knows it. 

“No way, if you want to make him jealous…” I need to think fast, “I don’t know, talk to him about how great I am.” 

That sounded like I’m so full of myself, but Robbe only rolls his eyes at me. 

“I do that all the time it won’t work.” 

“Baby, I can’t; how do you want me to do it? Are you going to lie down while a pretend to be Edward Cullen?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Sander, pleaseeeeee.” There he is… using all his power over me. 

“I cant! A hickey is not something that you planned. It occurred,” I say honestly.

“What do you mean?” Robbe asks, doubting for the first time. 

This is my opportunity. Robbe had never had a formal boyfriend. He had made out and date a few boys over the years since he came out, but nothing more happened. And thank god because I hated every single one of them, but that’s not the point. The point is that Robbe is not a kid, but he isn’t the most experience boy either. So if I can convince him that hickeys are not something you can do only by asking, maybe I can escape this without actually saying not to him.  

“What I’m trying to say is that couples got to that point when the things got sexual between them.” 

I explain, but Robbe still look at me like that wasn’t enough. Holy shit! This is not working… maybe if I am more explicit? 

“For example, you are making out for hours, and then you kiss other parts of them because you both are horny. Or you are already having sex with them, and you kiss and bite whatever place of skin you find.” 

I see how Robbe thinks about it for a moment. I don’t know if it was enough, but it was kind of the truth. He eats his chips in silence, still thinking. This is not working, it’s taking him too much time. What on earth could he be thinking? 

“I can’t just give you one baby,” I add. 

Finally, Robbe looks at me and Oh Boy! That’s it. I have lost the battle. I have no idea what if he about to say, but he has that look in his eyes. The one I told you he did when he asked me how does it feel to be kissed? Yeah, that look. I know I am going to say yes. 

“But, I want one.. from you.” Robbe whispers. 

And I open my mouth to say no. I swear to god I did, but my brain should be damage because I find myself agreeing to this nonsense. 

“Holy shit! Okay, wait until we get home and we’ll see how it works.” I say, already regretting all of my life choices.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you. You are so good with me.” He says happily. 

Robbe takes my face between his hands and kisses me all over it. And yes, of course, I’m smiling and melting on him like a stupid.   

“Sometimes, I think I spoiled you too much.” 

Sometimes I say! Hahaha, I laugh at my own joke. 

“Never! You are perfect. Do you want one too?” Robbe says, still holding my face. 

“What?” 

“Yes, I can give you one if you want to make someone jealous.” He jokes playfully. 

“Thank you, baby, but I won’t need it.” I decide to be honest. 

Maybe I can stop myself from giving him everything he asks, but at least I can stop him from giving it to me. 

“You know it been a while since the last time I saw you with someone.” Robbe realizes for the first time in two years, and I don’t know if it is good or not. 

“Yeah, Brittany left me with no desire for dating.” I lie a little because it’s not the complete story “Also, I thought you were with me.” I joke, trying to change the conversation. 

The real reason was that I am a relationship person. I don’t enjoy randoms hookups and dates with strangers. So after Brittany, I only date a few times with some friends, and well, there was also Luc. But I never had something serious again. I kinda missed having a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I miss being loved and loved someone un return.

“Don’t name her, you are going to make me puke my food.” He sticks his tongue out in a grimace. 

“It wasn’t that bad. And She had a nice red hair”  

Maybe she wasn’t the best, but I can’t blame her. 

“She controlled you all the time… and She once told me you will be better without me,” Robbe says and keeps eating. 

“She did what?” I ask, shock by the news. 

“I remember it was so funny. Brittany came one day and told me, ‘Sander spend too much on you. He will be better without you, Robbe’ what a bitch.” Robbe answer laughing. 

I want to laugh too, but I can’t because I don’t understand why Robbe has never told me about it. And all the possibilities of things that he has never told me before. I take his jaw, making him lock eyes with me. 

“Why you never told me this?” I ask seriously. 

“Oh, because you guys broke a week after that. And I didn’t believe her. I know I’m the best part of your life because you are the best of mine.” He explains to me. 

Robbe smile and boop my nose, I’m frozen. I literally have no idea what to say. The only thing I can do is look at him in silence. 

“Aww, you guys are so cute together.” the waitress tells us when she brings the bill. 

“Thank you,” Robbe says without correcting her, and that just left me even more confused.  

I still numb to the time we get back home. To be honest, I don’t know how we get here. I think… I think Robbe paid because it was his turn, and then he took my hand, and we walked here holding hands. I’m not sure, we had never done that. Maybe I just imagining it.    

We are lying on the bed, and Robbe is looking for a movie, and obviously, he choose for the one hundred times, Romeo and Juliet. I should take a shower, clear my mind. This is also the first free night of Robbe after his exam, and I saw him yawning the whole dinner, so probably if I take a long shower when I come back, he is already sleeping.  

“Okay, how do you want me?” Robbe says, and it’s the first thing that penetrates my thoughts in the last half hour. 

I know exactly what he means, and I have no escape or a clue of how to do this. 

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that, Robbe,” I beg, almost crying. 

“You are so grumpy with me today.” He says next to me. “I think I had pushed you too much. Lets just cuddle and watch the movie.” 

Robbe pulls me into his arms and lets my head lie in his chest. I love when he does that, it makes me feel so safe and love. I forget about the world when we sleep like this. Robbe doesn’t speak for the rest of the night, he only kisses my forehead while I play with his necklace. We watch the movie like this until we fall asleep. And fuck me if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with him. 

.

. 

Kisses to all of you please tell me what you think and stay safe!  🥰  

#the things i do for you fic #sobbe fanfic #friends to lovers #fake dating au #🌈💖🌈💖 #srta pepa's fanfics

[mcrmadness]

Rambling about my (dä fan)art...

I was writing another post and this kinda got out of hand and turned into me talking about my art overall. I’m gonna put this under the cut because I don’t know if people are interested in my art nor especially in my thought about it and my “art history” basically, but if you are, then I hope you enjoy.

And yes, this is gonna be about my die ärzte fanart mainly!

So let’s start with the HELL coverart drawing because that’s what I was talking about originally:

I’m extremely happy with how the drawing turned out in the end and I like that feeling of success when I’m happy with something I have created. That is not always self-evident with myself. More than often I have plain hated my drawings or have felt like there should be something done differently, or something that I could always improve at and do better. So this feeling where I’m actually content and happy with what I have created is something new and different. I have a dopamine rush every time I look at that drawing. I like the drawing. I think it looks nice. And I’m extremely happy about this fact and I am not afraid of admitting it. Perfectionism is a curse and a gift. It can sometimes make your life a living hell when something that is perfectly good still feels like it’s not enough. When everyone else sees that what you have done is actually good or even great but your brain just keeps repeating how it’s shit and everyone else is just delusional and that they don’t see what you see. And this is like the polar opposite of that feeling. It wasn’t other people who were delusional, it was you and youself all along. You were the one seeing the image in your head and the drawing not matching that image. Other people saw only what you had created and couldn’t compare it to anything. And that doesn’t mean it was never good.

So whenever I do these comics and comic style drawings nowadays, I just feel so happy. I feel that I am no longer failing them, I feel like I can draw the image I see in my head. I finally feel like I can draw, I have some skills, I’m not a professional and maybe not as good as everyone else but I’m good at what I’m doing. This is my thing and I’m good at it and it’s enough. And I love it when I feel like I’m improving. For years I felt like I was stuck, like my skills would have been glitching somehow, I didn’t get better no matter how much I drew. But I guess I tried too much and was too harsh on myself because I believed that a drawing is good only when no reference photos have been used. And I sucked at drawing without them. I still do! I was staring at the Hell coverart the whole time I was drawing! I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t! And this feels particularly good also because this is the first time I have tried something different with these comics. I have never tried to draw a photo or existing picture with this style. I have only drawn my comics and those I have created all by myself. The clothes come from what I have seen in videos and photos but the plots are created by me alone, with a idea coming from somewhere actual usually, as inspirations do.

For comics I do look at reference photos of people sitting or standing, or I look at the mirror, or even take photos of my own hand to be able to draw something. And that’s lots of fun and also challenging because I’m mixing there my old habit of portrait drawing with my less serious comic book style but I really really do like the combination. It also makes me feel that I am memorizing what I draw and the next time when I need to draw that same posture, I no longer need the reference photos because they’re no in my brain. And in my muscle memory. My hand remembers how to do the lines now.

Here you can see one of the sketches I did in 2018 - I had this image in my head and I wanted to draw it and I just... drew it in my sketchbook. Didn’t use pencil. But now I’ve noticed I like doing these on proper paper instead of the sketchbook AND it’s so much more fun to first draw the sketch with the pencil and then draw on it with the fineliners. That I have always done with the comics (apart from one) because they take more time than these quick sketches. But here you can see Farin’s legs on the first image - I think I might have looked at reference photos for that but then it was so much easier to do the to the comic I made in 2019.

I have now also figured out that a big part of my style is not to draw just simple straight lines. I like making those sketch-like lines even with the marker. They look more rough but that’s something I like seeing with my art. That’s what I was missing when I was staring at the lines I had drawn before and hated every detail of them. They were too clean and neat.

^These two I have also drawn on my sketchbook in 2018 and I don’t really know why. I guess I was still a bit stupid and didn’t really realize I’m drawing again. But anyway, they both were inspired by my own fanfiction I have written a long time ago. It’s one of my favorite self-written fanfics and it had these two scenes I just saw in my head and felt like I could try drawing them. Maybe that’s why they are in my sketchbook, I wasn’t sure if they were going to turn out even good... The marker around the second one obviously was shit and the paper wasn’t good for it, and I never finished with it so it looks a bit weird. Do I need to say that I really enjoy drawing very small, repetative details, like those tiles? It’s so soothing, almost like a therapy.

I think that quitting antidepressants in 2013 has done so much good for my creativity. If you compare my work from 2011 to 2019, the difference is huge - all are just parts from my comics:

Can you guess see the difference? But have to admit I am jealous for myself for how I have drawn Farin’s hair to the 2011 one and maybe have forgotten to color Farin’s arm but... I actually had so long pause from drwing (~8 years) that I forgot how I did that and had to use THAT as a reference when I was trying to draw late 80s Farin’s at some point last or this year :D

Anyway, my style with the shadows is a little different when I use colored pencils than when I use markers. This is from my latest comic from this year, where I experimented with Promarkers the way I had never done before and I really like how it came to be:

I have owned this set of Promarkers (black + 5 greys) for years and have never really used them, apart from the black which I usually used for the thick lines anyway. And wanted to see if I could find some use for the greys too! (Yes that’s Bela back there - this comic was an alternative ending for Für Immer music video :D)

And I wanna end this post with a face progress comparison for all three. During this I also noticed that before I used to draw their side profiles and it was really difficult to find images where I’d have drawn from from the front. And nowadays I have mainly drawn them from the front and it’s hard to find side profiles! Interesting! Here’s one of Farin and Bela from a drawing I made this year:

Also the hand that was so much fun to draw but I also took photos of my own hand in that posture in order to even draw that - that was fun! :D

But here are the last three images - using the HELL one as the last for each, of course:

Bela has always been the easiest to draw. And the first one of these three is actually from my first ever Bela&Farin comic! I didn’t color their skin back then. With the next ones I already did color their skins too but I used darker colors to do the shadows. Nowadays I do the shadows with fineliners. Or it depends - that 2019 one doesn’t have that lol.

Damn it was so difficult to find something where I’d have draw Farin from the front :D And I see the HELL one literally is my second (or third) time drawing Farin with his grin. Or if you count all those numerous extra mouths I drew because I failed the first one, then I have drawn his grin at least 15 times by now. I probably can draw his teeth with no reference photos from now on.

I haven’t drawn Rod too many times. I can actually count about... 5 times? And then there’s only 2 times when I’ve drawn his side profile but he’s at the background. I don’t know if I’ve ever really succeeded at that, I usually try to draw his head a more round and his eyes smaller than for Bela and Farin and I was actually bit worried for the HELL one and was wondering if I’m going to ruin the whole thing. But in fact, that was actually easiest of them to draw. And STILL I’m surprised by how alike he looks in that last one. In fact, I think his dacial features are perfect for a carricature drawing so you don’t need to do more than a few lines for the mouth and it looks like his mouth. The middle one was for a drawing I made for a friend and with this I actually looked at photos so that I could draw some of his hairstyles from the 90s and I liked this one the best and it was also quite easy to draw too.

Do I even have to say that I’m not extremely motivated what comes to drawing? I feel like my creative has become what it has never been before. I still don’t really know what to draw but I just feel that whatever it is I’ll start next, it will be good. And if it doesn’t... who cares? I had so much fun with those extra mouths  of Farin which was maybe visible from the video I filmed, and that is what makes drawing worth it. Before I took the drawing process so seriously and a mistake felt like the end of the world but now I laugh at them and make fun of them and don’t take them too seriously. And I always have ways to fix these, or I can redraw. Just like I did with Farin’s mouth (or a half of his face actually) for this newest drawing. The most important thing is that I’m having fun and enjoying what I do, that way usually the outcome will also be a success.

I have now at least 2 dä comics on my to-do list (I don’t remember if there’s a third one too) + one pencil drawing that is halfway there. It will take one more night/day for it to get it finished. I also have probably 5 ideas for self-comics etc. in my sketchbook and I try to find some time to work on those. Or actually I have a plenty of time. Adhd, time blindness and executive dysfunction just make it feel as if I didn’t :D Can’t wait to get working on my next drawing projects, tho!

(I wish I knew how to make art for a living even but that’s a topic that will need its own post which I’m probably do in a near future if I don’t forget :D)

#mcrmadness’ art talk #mcrmadness draws #the post has lots of text but also quite a many images #dä fanart #die ärzte #I have been drawing dä comics since 2010 - the old ones are very stupid but whatever :D #long post

[thetierdslytherin]

Its nice to have a friend  Spencer Reid x reader

So this is a Spencer Reid song fic based on its nice to have a friend by Taylor swift. and I saw someone else to a songfic based on this song for another character and i felt inspired. there’s mention of bullying and divorce but other than that just a fluffy fic.

Mostly gender neutral reader x Spencer but at one point the reader wears a dress

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

School was finally over as the bell rang signaling the end of the day my teacher said something but I didn't hear her. No, I'm too excited to get home. It's the first day of winter break and I couldn't be more excited. I didn't really see the point of kindergarten and most of the kids are mean.

           Anyways my mommy lets me walk home by myself alot of the bigger kids do and it's only a 10 minute walk to my house. I finally stop running just outside of the school yard where a lot of the kids color and draw on the sidewalk too icy to do it now which reminds me i'm not supposed to run because I could get hurt.

           As I look up to continue my walk home I see a kinda frail looking boy with crooked teeth and glasses too big for his face, ah Spencer he's not in my class with me but I know him cause a lot of the kids tease him and hide his stuff. I don't really know why but my parents say if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. Besides, I don't know why they do it all he really does is sit by himself and read. 

          He doesn't have any gloves on or a hat and it's snowing and I'm cold with my gloves and coat so I know he is too, maybe he doesn't have any. It's not really common to snow in Las Vegas but it's probably because the kids hid them from him. I run up to catch up with him. It's not that hard, he's not exactly moving fast, he doesn't seem really excited to get home, maybe he doesn't have anything to do. 

“Here take one of mine” I hold out one of my gloves to him so at least only one of his hands will be cold. He looks at me like he's expecting me to tease him or snatch the glove away at the last second but I guess he deems me trust worthy enough and takes it putting it on his furthest hand.

 “t-thanks i’m s-spencer”  

“I know i’m y/n you lost your gloves right?” I know the kids took them but I don't want him to feel any worse about it.

“Yeah I did thanks” he still looks really cold so I grab his hand closest to me and try to interlock our fingers so both his hands will be warm. He kinda flinches at first but then seems to accept that I'm not gonna hurt him. 

“So you won't be cold Spencer”

We walk for maybe a minute in silence before I get another idea 

“Wanna hang out?”

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

I'm now i'm second grade and Spencer is in third and ever since that day we've been best friends and do practically everything together and this is the first year without him in my grade and I miss him a lot but we still hang out everyday after school. 

          “C’mon Spencer it won't be bad I promise my parents are right inside and if you want to go you can but could you please try it”.

I'm referring to spending the night in a tent in my backyard.Sleepovers were a common thing for Spencer and I especially with his dad having left I think that's why he likes being over so much it lets him forget for a little while.Earlier this week I learned Spencer had never been camping due to his thing with germs but after a lot of begging and secret planning on my part he agreed “okay y/n but if I don't like it we can go in?” 

          I nod happily and lead him to the backyard where everyday after school I've been cleaning it and setting up a campsite in the cleanest way possible. “Did you know that 77 million american households contain a member that camps and 81% of households in America say they want to camp more?”

“No, I didn't Spence, do you have any more statistics about camping for me?’ this is one thing I love about him he can tell you something about any subject you ask him it's because of his Eidetic memory.He found out he had last year and its super cool he can remember and fact I wish I had his memory some times.

          I open the tent to reveal an air mattress with a bunch of blankets and some comic books my mommy bought earlier. It's not the big books like he likes to read but it's Marvel comics that I introduced him to a few months ago and we've been reading them together ever since.

           “w-wow y/n this is so cool, did you know the hulk was supposed to be grey in the original comics but was changed to green after a mess up with printer ink?” 

“No but i'd love to hear more comic facts”

He deserves someone to listen to him after everything with his parents and all the kids at school bullying him. I don't want him to ever feel alone. 

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

It's amazing how two people who are in such different places in their lives can still love each other so much while Spencer is the only 16 year old I know with 2 phds working on another i'm still in highschool. Not from lack of hard work though i’m graduating this year 2 years early so I can go to cal tech to be with Spencer. If i'm being perfectly honest if not for Spencer I wouldn't be graduating early but I miss him too much to stay any longer. I'm sick of highschool boyfriends and football games and dealing with the same kids who bullied Spencer for being a nerd acting like we’re best friends just because I made nice with them.

            Right now were on the roof of my house after a lot of convincing on my part to get him out here 

“Why are we out here y/n do you know how many roof related accidents happen a year?”

“No but I'm sure you do dr.” I think my favorite pastime of recent is teasing Spencer.

He's saying something to me as I nod along but I'm not paying attention to what he's saying. No, I'm too busy staring at him. 

          He's really grown into his features he still has a boyish look about him but now his jawline is very defined and his brown hair goes just past his hair curling at the ends after a long day of hanging out the gel has worn out making his hair as messy as ever and he’s traded his glasses for contacts but i still think he looks for lack of better word beautiful either way. I know I love him, I've loved him since the first day I met him and over the years at one point I guess the feelings went from platonic to romantic but I don’t tell him. I don't have to I know i'll spend the rest of my life with Spencer Reid 

“y/n y/n hello”

“Hmm, what were you saying Spence?”

“I-i’m sorry am i boring you y/n?” the worst part is he's not mad about it he looks upset like he feels bad for boring me.

“No never, i'm sorry I was just thinking” 

“About what?”

“You” why did I say that but it's fine it has to be Spencer won't care but I don't want to see his reaction to my words instead focusing on the pink orange sky 

“You know I love you right that i'll always love you”

I feel him grasp my hand interlocking our fingers and I let out a quiet gasp-but he heard it. We've only held hands twice our whole lives the first day I met him and after the goal post incident so this is well, completely out of character for him and our friendship.

“I love you too y/n”

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Feels like home, stay in bed

The whole weekend

          They call us stupid-young and dumb-that well be divorced in 10 years but we love each other and known each other our whole lives hes just been accepted into the BAU at 20 he has to move to Quantico. I'm gonna go with him I can get a job i've finished my degree there's nothing keeping me here.

“Let's get married” 

“What?” it's rare that I make him speechless but this seems to do the trick.

“Why don't I love you and you love me. We've been dating for how many years now 4? I want to spend the rest of my life with you i've known that I wanted you in my life since that first day on the sidewalk I want to grow old with you and have kids and grand kids so why wait let's get married” I look up at him silently pleading with him to just agree with me.

“y/n 45% of marriages end in divorce and 20% of couples under 24 get divorced in the first year of marriage”. He’s cautious I don't blame him not after what happened with his mom and dad.

“Well this is one time i'm going to ask you not to trust the statistics. I may not know all the facts about marriage and life but i know us and i'd like to think that's enough. I don't want anything big just us we can go down to the courthouse and make it official” 

He moves over to the couch where i'm sitting and grabs my hand “yes”

          It wasn't anything big, him in the only suit he owns and me in a dime store wedding dress. The rings we have are cheap and the diamond in my hand may have been small but it means everything to me. 

          We didn't even tell our parents why his mom is institutionalized, his dad left and my parents don't approve of me leaving for Quantico instead its Spencer and I with 5 of our college friends. We both walk out of the courthouse as they throw rice at us-unnecessary but sweet of them-and get into his car driving off to go home. We aren't having a honeymoon unless you count moving to Quantico.

          He picks me up and carries me through the threshold of the apartment as he sets me down I ask “can we do our vows I know we both agreed not to prepare anything don't worry I didn’t I just want to tell you some things and you don't even have to say anything back I just need to say it. Spencer I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you and all you’ve acomplised and overcome even the first time I saw you I could tell we were gonna be friends.I am just so thankful to have you here right now and for sticking with me through all of the chess matches and late night adventure and stupid boyfriends and what I guess i’m trying to say is thank you for always being you I love you.”

          I look at him with tears in my eyes and with tears in his eyes too and he clears his throat “ y/n I will never be able to express how you have helped me over the years from school yard bullies to cal tech and my mom.And I know i'm not the best with words i'm better with analysis and fact but there is no fact or statistic that will let me describe how i'm love with you I am” I put one hand on the side of his face and pull him in for a kiss.

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

(Ooh)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #childhood friends #comfort

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 7

Moms, Meltdowns, and Mayhem

Hello and welcome back to Fabian’s worst nightmare, already in progress!

We rejoin the Bad Kids who have linked back up the next day and are on their way to the library of the city Leviathan--The Compass Point Library. On the way there, they see the Crow’s Keep burning but Fabian, assuming it has to do with what happened to him, tells everyone to leave it alone.

Adaine questions why Riz hasn’t had any nightmares (Riz: In a way, my life is a nightmare) and the whole group goes into another round of Shadowcat speculation. Is she protecting Riz from nightmares for some reason? Why can Tracker and Garthy suddenly see her in the picture despite not having seen her irl or had any weird dreams? Is she masquerading as someone else? 

Anyway, they reach the library which is the cool, cobbled together and largely stolen (to Fig’s delight) pirate-y library of Alexandria type place. They meet an old pirate wizard named Rollins with a book of pirate spells that Fig immediately wants to steal and Adaine wants to borrow (or steal, she’s flexible). They all sign up for Compass Point library cards and go up to the observatory to look for Ayda Aguefort. 

In the observatory, they find a huge orange-yellow bird on a perch and this is the part of the recap where I have to inform you that Aguefort had not only banged a phoenix, he somehow managed to procreate with it. Meet Ayda Aguefort, the half-phoenix (shout-out to the anon from last week who called Ayda as Aguefort’s daughter). She’s got wings and arms, bird legs, a plume of red fiery hair, and eyes which are basically just fire.

Fig thinks she’s the creature Aguefort made for her for reasons I cannot begin to fathom. She tries to feed her but Ayda rejects the food, not wishing to be in anyone’s debt. Ayda is kind of intense, abrupt, and anti-social when they meet her. She’s fully is about to fly away instead of helping until Fabian yells that Garthy sent them and Adaine remembers she has the letter from Garthy asking her to help them. After some back and forth, she agrees to give Adaine the spell (which will take 6 hours to learn) for 150 gold. But these are the Bad Kids so, of course, we have several tangents before the plot goes anywhere, during which we learn Ayda is a divination wizard (like Adaine), she asks if her father has talked about her (Fig successfully lies that he has), and Gorgug spouts out some fortune cookie nonsense (“What is a telescope but a spyglass pointed at the stars?”) that convinces Ayda that he could be the greatest wizard of their age (Adaine does a spit take and Fig is loving it).   

Adaine hits the books to learn the sending spell with Sandra-Lynn keeping watch while everyone else splits up suchly:

Fabian wants to go out to check on the Hangman but Kristen absolutely vetoes that. Buddy. System. Ragh agrees to go with him and she lays off. He tries to see what the damage on the Hangman is. Nat 1. As far as Fabian can tell, the Hangman is full dead. Not only that, Fabian is poor people sick which he isn’t used to at all. Ragh isn’t doing much better on the emotional front. He just started making progress with processing his emotions and now his mom might be dead. Saddest Hoot Growl ever (seriously, it’s heartbreaking). Cathilda comes in, loving as ever, with food and kind words and an old lullaby, but that’s not enough to stop Fabian from rolling another Nat 1 and gaining 2 levels of exhaustion (which means disadvantage on ability checks and speed halved). Lou, please burn those dice. 

Kristen and Riz are researching the Nightmare King. They go into a religious studies section of the library and (on a 20+ check from Riz) find texts about a temple to a forgotten god in Sylvere (the forest of the Nightmare King). The god is never named in any of the texts which Kristen finds weird. Riz decides to steal the book and is able to do it, despite Kristen’s “help”. Later, Kristen cross-refs Riz’s info with her world religions book and, on a dirty 20, she finds with frustration that there’s a lot of information but none of it really matches up. The fairies, treants, and especially the unicorns all had mysterious deities but none of them really match with the forgotten god. [Note: Last time we heard about unicorns was in episode one and we learned that the last time people saw the great unicorn was the last time the NK showed up.] At the same time, it seems like there are elements of the god in all five of the cultures in the forest. Adaine checks and there’s nothing magic with the book so it’s just the contents of the book that are weird, not the book itself. Kristen thinks there might be a connection to her weird dream about not being able to draw the face of her god. Adaine wonders if Kristen might have been worshipping this unnamed god by mistake. Gorgug wonders if the god is erasing themselves (a theory backed up late when they talk to Aguefort).  

Fig looks for information on cursed gems and (with a 19) she finds a good amount--no surprise in a pirate library. She finds a book called Breaking the Evil Eye in one of the forbidden sections and learns that it could be possible to planeshift into the gem, dispel magic from the inside and get rid of the trap, before breaking the original curse. She finds all of this out after she steals the book (disguised as Rollins). Planeshift is a level 7 spell though so Adaine has a while to go before she can learn it (she gets her first at level 13). 

Gorgug asks the real Rollins for books about cheering up a friend. He’s brought to a small, dusty section of the library. Gorgug rolls a nat 1 on an insight check and thinks that Rollins must be messing with him. Rollins is confused because he super wasn’t. Adaine takes a break and uses this pointless argument borne from misunderstanding to steal his book. Dirty 20. Rollins instantly skelatizes. She hastily puts the book back. He comes back Wrong and in incredible pain. He begs them to take the book out and Gorgug does. Adaine peaces out to finish studying, leaving Gorgug to deal with her mess. Gorgug decides to keep looking at the friendship books. Even on a 5, he finds a secret door into a HUGE friendship library. Guided by his library card, Gorgug finds a book called Cheer Up Me Hearties. When he gets out, Gilear is being accosted for killing Rollins, but Gorgug is able to get them to stand down. Gorgug Thistlespring, winning pirate hearts and minds. They take the book and Rollins’ bones to get him put back together.   

Adaine finishes up as Ayda comes to check on her. Ayda is about to make another quick exit but Adaine tries again to make friends with Ayda, this time by directly asking and offering to let her hold Boggy. Ayda is immediately obsessed with Boggy (and Adaine’s backpack terrarium AND the backpack she makes for him at Ayda’s suggestion) and extremely impressed with Adaine’s spellwork in manifesting Boggy. It’s a very cute scene and Adaine has made a useful ally. Ayda can’t believe she met the two greatest wizards of the age in one day. Wild. 

Everyone regroups to call Aguefort now that Adaine knows Sending. He sends them back some more powerful magic so he can talk for longer than the 25 word response. Think of it as magic Skype. He very casually tells them that Ragh’s house is a smoking crater and his mom is super dead. He takes far too long to follow up with the information that, a long time ago, he hid Lydia’s real body under the school, made a clone of her, and used the Magic Jar spell to basically hook up her consciousness to the clone body (which held a fake demon shard). The clone body is what got destroyed. Lydia’s real body and consciousness are fine. Way to bury the lede dude! Upon being asked, Arthur says that he used to remember the name of the god of the unicorn but he forgot. Suspicious and troubling. He and Fig also renew discussions on the creature she ordered but never paid for. He says the cheapest option is a pentacorn for 30k gold (which sounds like a unicorn w/ 5 horns and pretty useless but I refuse to get dragged into this insanity, I am just the messenger here).

Aguefort leaves to deal with the situation at home. Meanwhile, Gorgug notices smoke again but he also notices that it’s on the wrong side to be related to what happened to Fabian. After giving Fabian and Ragh oranges to prevent scurvy--a tip from the pirate friendship book--he brings it up to Fabian who thinks it’s probably Captain Wicklaw making a power play and they should probably stay out of it. What? says Adaine. Nah, we should fight him. Yeah, says Fig. You deserve revenge! Fabian just wants to lay low so they can get their C+. Adaine is not here for that C+ and she’s not here for Fabian’s concerning attitude shift. None of the Bad Kids are. However, the cast is very here for absolutely roasting Lou for all of his choices by having their respective characters inadvertently reference every bad thing that happened last episode. When Adaine suggests that Fabian might be cursed, Fabian finally haltingly comes out with the entire story (which Lou has to laugh-cry himself through in one of the best scenes of the episode) and everyone interjects with comments that they (out of character) know will just make Fabian’s storytelling even more uncomfortable. It’s a very wild combination of very emotional (in game) but deeply funny (out of game). Like:

Ally (who knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Did Chungledown Bim help you?

Zac (who also knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Chungledown Bim probably saved you.

Murph (yet another person who knows good and well that ChungledownBim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth) You know what we should do? We should go see Chungledown Bim.        

Amazing. 

Fabian finishes his recounting of the 20 car pile-up that was last episode by repeating his earlier opinion that they shouldn’t go after Captain Wicklaw because it will just end with all of them dead. Kristen tries to slap him back to normal and tells him to lose the Gilear energy. Led by Gorgug and Adaine, the gang tells Fabian that being Bill Secaster’s son isn’t the only worthwhile thing about him (in fact, it’s pretty annoying). He’s worthwhile all on his own. Tracker chimes in and says that she thinks Fabian might have some issues with depression so maybe their well intentioned efforts to get Fabian to buck up weren’t the best way to handle things. Adaine and Riz are skeptical that Fabian is like, capital D, Depressed but Tracker sticks by her read on the situation. The group eventually decides to at least check out what’s going on with the smoke but before they arrive, an interlude:

As they walk to Crow’s Keep, Cathilda walks with Fabian and Cathilda starts dropping information about herself and about how her own children died before Fabian was born and about how she sees him as a son--though she’s tried to keep the proper professional distance. She comforts Fabian on his bad day and then her eyes go full Terminator and she mentally buts Wicklaw on her “People I Need to Murder Today” list (more on this later).

When they arrive at the place where the smoke is coming from, they find that the Ramble (kind of a pirate meetinghouse/Courthouse) has been burned down. Jemina Joy is there and she lets them know that Wicklaw asked what was necessary to become the new pirate king. He was told that all he needed to do was get the crown from the former pirate king (because respect for/fear of Bill was the only thing keeping there from being a new king). He just burned down the Ramble to be a dick. Adaine damn near gets her ass beat by Jemina by arguing politics with her (her point being that she wants to install Jemina as Pirate Queen while Jemina is like, “I just keep this place from sinking. Lay off.”) but Riz, mindful of the fact that this is a time sensitive situation, takes off to Gibbety Square where the pirate king’s crown is (and where Wicklaw is headed).

They make it to Brennan’s latest battle mechanic: The Row and the Ruction.

This is the crazy, pirate bicameral legislative system. The Row is a huge fistfight (no weapons allowed--or really they are allowed but everyone will gang up on you if you use them) at ground level. It’s always in session and has been for 150-ish years. Above that, is the Ruction which is a fight with full weapon and magic usage alone. The idea is that you need enough support on the ground in the Row so you can use them to get up in the Ruction. It’s a king of the hill situation up there and if you can hold your position up there for long enough, you can make laws. Got all that? Good. 

They get there just barely after Wicklaw and his men who haven’t yet entered the Row. Wicklaw starts talking mad trash to Fabian but his friends back him up. They give him back his sword, his eye-patch, and Kristen hits him with a Warding Bond (which means that he gets +1 to AC and saving throws if he stays close to her plus resistance to all damage and, more importantly, she takes all the damage he takes). Fig gives everyone Countercharm. And, to top it off, Cathilda shows up with in an all black, super-badass pirate uniform to say she’s gonna feed him his own freaking brains! Let’s goooooooo!

But, Wicklaw has some new allies as well. Three elves bamf in from Falinel (same people who Kristen felt scrying on them earlier) and they’re there to bring Adaine back, and it doesn’t seem like they’re gonna just ask nicely.   

Detention

Adaine for Unnecessary Theft and (Accidentally) Killing a Man 

Adaine was kind of on one this episode. Not only did she inadvertently kill* a man while stealing from him, Adaine also ghosted at the first sign of trouble, leaving Gorgug and Gilear to catch all the flak for her attempt at pulling a Fig. Bad form, girl!

*She probably didn’t technically kill him but she turned him into a skeleton and he called the pain upon reconstitution worse than death so let’s not quibble about the details. 

Honor Roll

Cathilda for Being a Badass Mom 

Oh man, oh man, oh man. 

I’ve low-key been waiting for Cathilda to go full pirate since we learned that was an option and especially since Fabian got attacked because it was a pretty safe bet that was going to be her berserk button and boy did she deliver.

When did she have the time for a costume change? Is she that stealthy? Did she magic it on? Or did she just manifest the outfit on the power of her rage alone?

The scene where she says Wicklaw is gonna pay? Chills. Not only pledging to eat your enemy’s brains but also saying you’re going to feed him his own brains and describing exactly how you’ll serve it? So raw. 

But I also have to shout out the non-murderous mom stuff she did this ep. The little talk she gave Fabian about no one being defined by their worst day was very sweet and good advice out of game too. 

But honorable mention to Gorgug for being an absolute sweetheart all episode. Zac’s improv about pirates giving their friends oranges to prevent scurvy bodied me.  

Random Thoughts

Some very useful posts from @jamiebluewind: Character Descriptions, Location Descriptions, Transcripts of Cathilda’s speeches from this ep. 

During the initial discussion with Collins, we learn that the transmutation exchange rate is 50 Parrots=10 Bananas=1 Gold. How are bananas more complex than parrots?

Adaine: May we steal books?

Her later actions aside, I think it’s funny that Adaine’s first move is basically always to sweetly ask for what she wants and Fig’s first move is, “Gotta steal that book!” Adaine is like the most polite person in the group but also ready to fight 100% of the time. The role reversal in the Jemina scene where Fig was the one who asked an on point question and Adaine was the one who made it almost spiral into an actual fight was great.

I was just saying this re: Harry Potter in a different context but clearly marked but not blocked off forbidden sections of libraries are more a dare than a deterrent. 

Fig as a horned parrot (done by Rollins for trying to steal his book) is adorable. Please somebody draw that.

I love that when they see the bird that turns out to be Ayda and Murph is like, “I don’t think that’s a bird,” Zac is like, “Yeah, Gorgug doesn’t know that.” Zac (like Travis as Grog in CritRole) has a real talent for playing dumb while actually being really smart.

“My principal scammed me?”

Brennan truly did not have to follow through on Aguefort saying he slept with a bird. He really, really did not have to but he was like, “Nope! I said it so it’s happening! This is happening!” I really wish you guys could have seen my face as I realized in real time that the madman was actually doing that. 

Adaine to Fig who thinks Ayda is her creature: This is a full person.

“I like school.”/“You would.”

Lol at Fig trying to draw parallels between Ayda’s prickliness and her own behavior and getting absolutely shut down. “I think people think you’re really tender.” The running thing of Fig’s perception of herself as this standoffish loner being constantly reality checked by literally everyone she knows being like, “You tell us you love us literally every day,” is one of my favorite group dynamics. It’s even funnier because, besides probably Adaine and Fabian, the rest of the Bad Kids probably knew Fig (or at least had seen her around) before she started going through her emo phase. So they totally remember her in 8th grade wearing preppy clothes and carrying a unicorn backpack and listening to Fantasy Taylor Swift and all that.   

All ep they were calling Kalina a cat and I was thinking, “I feel like—in game—that’s gotta be offensive.” And then Aguefort straight said it. Wild for it to come from him since he’s the craziest person ever but I’m glad it came up.

“You seem simple to me.”/“Thank God.”

Aww at Ayda asking if Aguefort ever talks about her. Brennan, you gotta stop putting little emotional traps into otherwise funny scenes. I can only handle so much!

The gang did some experimentation with the photo in this ep with these results: Ayda and Aguefort both couldn’t see Kalina in the picture. They also took a picture of the picture but that picture had the same properties as the original picture. Weeping Angel rules I guess. 

There’s speculation in this episode about why Riz isn’t having nightmares. I have another question kinda on that topic. In episode 2/3, we see the lie/mirror/Baron thing that happened with Riz. And that was for sure super nightmarish. But it doesn’t match what happened to Adaine and Fabian. Both of them seem to have had more ephemeral experiences that quickly vanished. And they weren’t borne from lies so much as fears. Riz’s monster came from a direct lie and it didn’t seem to be a nightmare. It came out of the mirror and attacked not only him but his friends later. No one saw Fabian or Adaine’s nightmares besides them (although, that could just be because they got away). And no other lie-monsters have showed up as far as we know. I’m just wondering if there’s maybe something else going on or if it was a different NK follower who did that or just a different power of the same dude. Just something I wanted to note because it’s been bugging me a little and no one’s brought it up yet. 

Cool quirk of the sending spell Adaine learned: Because it was modified by pirates, curse words don’t count towards the 25 word limit. What I immediately thought (and what Aguefort actually ended up doing more or less) was that you could easily send very long messages with, say, Morse code. Just designate one curse as a dot, one as a dash, and one as a space, and you’re good to go. It’d be slow, but totally workable. 

Also, after watching Laura as Jester absolutely flying by the seat of her pants with every sending spell, it was wild to see the group take the time to carefully craft the perfect message. 

I said two recaps ago that I wouldn’t be surprised if Gorgug multiclassed into a casting class soon and boy do I hope this episode means he’s gonna do it for real. Adaine’s total disbelief at Ayda’s interest in Gorgug’s wizarding potential was sending me.

Oh also. Ayda has forbidden Gorgug from reading any wizarding books so he doesn’t lose is totally uncomplicated mind. I guess he’s supposed to learn everything the savant way? Imagine Adaine diligently studying her wizard books, trying to master some complicated spell and Gorgug is like, “I woke up and I guess I can use Mage Hand now? Neat.” Absolutely maddening. 

Besides Cathilda, Gorgug was the MVP in this episode. Dude has a knack for making friends that I think will eventually pay dividends. 

Also, speaking of, everything Brennan said during the secret shelf section was so good as to sound planned, however, how could you predict that that was a thing a player was going to ask to find? Brennan is just always 7 seconds of prep time away from giving an elaborate and super specifically themed speech about friendship I guess.  

Big ups to Kristen for not letting Fabian go off by himself again. Like, for the sake of the party of course but also the, “We almost lost you,” was sweet. She also helped buff him going into the coming fight with Warding Bond that means she takes all the damage he takes. I am SO glad they brought another healer with them because that’s such a risky move. Kristen is a LOT but she’s also very ride or die and all heart. I really love that the last time she used this spell it was on Gilear for a joke and now it’s getting used seriously. It’s a perfect establish existence of power to audience/bring back at plot relevant time setup. Improv storytelling is so inexplicably good. 

Technically, to cast Warding Bond, you’re supposed to have matching rings with the person you’re casting it on so imagine Kristen blinged out with a ring for each party member and each of them having a corresponding one in case she needs to cast it on them.  

Little bit concerned that Tracker still doesn’t know about Sandra-Lynn/Garthy. The longer it takes for her to find out, the higher the chance it blows up and becomes a Thing.

Fig: *Meandering philosophical question about why Ayda watches the stars*/Ayda: I study it so I can know where this big city is floating.

RIP to the Hangman. I don’t think he’s gone for good but it seems like he is for now. On my first watch, I thought that, on a 1, Fabian just fully thinks that the Hangman is gone but, the second time it seemed more like he’s just dead. Now, I’m not Brennan, but if I was in this situation, you know what I would do? I would have someone save the Hangman’s soul (or whatever he has instead of a soul) and store it in the Hangvan temporarily. Imagine how much he’d hate that. It’s full of potential for “roommate” shenanigans. 

Is there anything stopping them from just, ramming the Row with the Hangvan? Like, I know it’ll get them ganged up on, but will they be able to do much against a full van?

Also, if/when they hold the Ruction, I wonder what law they’re going to try and make. They didn’t really go in with a plan (understandable under the time pressure) so they’re really gonna have to improvise something on the fly. 

Also, I’m assuming Fabian stabbed the Hangman while he was asleep? I don’t think we were ever shown that scene, but Fabian must have been under some kind of compulsion since he woke up in the river (and the same happened to Ragh). 

Aguefort casually mentions that he has many children and this episode proves that Brennan can and will back up every single crazy thing that comes out of his mouth, so I’m excited to see if there is a single Aguefort out there that isn’t crazy.

Oh, also, the acknowledgement that occasionally that phoenix is a child is appreciated because that was def a question I was going to ask. Squicky to say the least but I guess that’s how phoenixes work so what are you gonna do?

Ally needing to roll a 10, rolling, being happy, checking Kristen’s modifier, and realizing it’s a negative 3 for a total of 9 is peak D&D.

Fig as Rollins: Look at how fast I can run!

I love Fig thinking Adaine could plausibly have 7 level spells. She’s like, idk bro. She’s the eleven oracle. She cares about school. She could know this too. Who knows? Certainly not Fig who thought she could buy wizard spells to use as a bard.

“Please speak more enthusiastically on my behalf.”

“It’s my brain guys.”

Fig mind controls Gilear into believing in himself and he fails his save. I wonder if this is could be valid therapy technique in this world. 

Aguefort mentions that a Wish spell can destroy a Magic Jar just fyi. That makes 3 pretty high level spells mentioned in this ep. Magic Jar is 6th level. Planeshift is 7th level. And Wish, basically the strongest spell in the game, is 9th level. We’re starting to deal with some serious magical mojo.

The whole thing with people in pictures that not everyone can see and memories that you know you once had but don’t anymore and information that should exist but doesn’t is hitting a very specific storytelling sweet spot for me. 

This is a little meta-gamey to be thinking about but I’m kinda wondering, why sideline Gorthalax? Obviously, it’s a good plot hook for Fig and that might be all it is. But I’m lowkey wondering is there something Gorthalax knows or can do that would solve the plot in 30 seconds if he was around? Like, was he roommates with the Nightmare King in hell or something?

Kristen finds it weird that the god’s name isn’t written anywhere but I’m sure that’s gotta be fairly common. Or at least not unheard of. Like, I know in Judaism you’re not supposed to do that. Anyway, watch the great unicorn be the Nightmare King just for the Nightmare/Night Mare pun.

Adaine being on brand no matter the situation: Everybody shut up I have to do my homework!

The, “Do you want a friend?”/“Desperately.” interaction killed me. 

“I don’t have any wizard friends.”/“I’m a wizard.”/(beat)/“I don’t have any wizard friends.”

Arthur cloned a woman, forgot to tell her, and then straight forgot. So business as usual from him. 

Fabian’s, “Nooooooo,” with the rising intonation every time someone made an assumption during his story and he had to correct him was amazing. Also, “He told me he was going to shit in my mouuuuwth.”

Ragh, Fig, and Adaine all crying about their parental issues at the same time. This has been, like, the longest week ever. I wonder if the 7 Maidens are unpacking this much trauma on their quest.

“Absolutely timbered.”

Lol at Brennan dropping the cool pirate sending spell “curses don’t count” detail and then being told from off camera that he needs to keep it PG-13. But then Cathilda needed to go beast mode so, like, what can you do?

Another cool worldbuilding detail is pirate clerics just keep shrines to every deity they’ve come into contact with to hedge their bets like Beni from The Mummy.

I know Lydia was attacked on orders from Kalina but I wonder if they knew about/had plans for the demon shard too. 

When Emily said she disguised herself as Rollins, I fully thought she was going to walk out the door the real Rollins was guarding and not go out the back door like she did. The idea of a back door didn’t even occur to me. I just thought we were in for some classic Axford insanity. 

Riz: You’ve gotta get better at talking to kids.

Riz: This is real Gilear energy.

Kristen: We brought one Gilear. We don’t wanna make that mistake twice.

Everything that happened with Fabian was really funny because there’s nothing I love more in D&D than players having a good time dunking on each other but, in game, Fabian is really going through it. Fabian low key has mom friend energy so to almost die and then for all of his friends to jump into the exact fight that almost killed him (including taunting the dude! Adaine!) against his advice must be giving him a level of anxiety and dread that I don’t even have the words to describe. Like, now is not the time for him to digging into that because things are life or death. Gotta save your life before you can fix it. But he def needs to at some point. Too bad Jawbone’s not around for a quick mid-battle therapy sesh like he had with Adaine during prom.   

Tracker suggested that Fabian might be depressed. I’m not an expert on depression. He could be depressed and, in any case, he definitely needs to see a therapist for a Lot of reasons. But having a breakdown because you saw 14 people die, almost died yourself, and were told that a man wanted to shit in your mouth less than 24 hours ago seems less like a sign of depression and more like the only rational human reaction.

Adaine calls the above, “a vaguely mediocre day”. Michael Scott Voice: Adaine you ignorant slut.

Also Adaine: You got that bike because you won it fair and square because we killed a lot of people.

This is the second time Adaine has said that Fabian’s lineage is actually the most annoying thing about him and these are the kind of tiny continuity details I live for.

Semi-relatedly, Fabian’s relationship with his parents v. Adaine’s relationship with hers is endlessly fascinating to me. Because they have such similar backgrounds but coming from, like, opposite directions of the same spectrum, you know? Can’t wait for those sweet, sweet parallels as we jump into her trauma! (What is D&D but group therapy interspaced with murder?)  

Speaking of Adaine’s trauma, it looks like we’ll be getting to it very soon as those FBI Falinel operatives have shown up to force her (and the plot) back to Falinel. This is Concerning to me for two reasons. First off, remember the Aelwyn fight from season 1? Remember how annoying that was? Now imagine that times three and also 2 separate pirate brawls are happening. That sounds like a Bad Time for our kids. They’ve leveled up some and they’ve been known to make some very clutch battle decisions, but this is gonna be tough any way you slice it. This is like two entirely separate encounters at the same time. A small good point: I looked up the language for teleportation and it can only be used to transport a willing creature. So they can’t just bum rush her and poof out. But they could give her an ultimatum to make her agree. The second reason this Concerns me is that Adaine high key doesn’t want to work with/for Falinel and they know this. The fact that they’ve resorted to kidnapping (fun international law fact: when a government kidnaps someone, it’s called rendition) tells me that they’re done playing nice which opens up two options to them they might not have otherwise used. They could coerce Adaine’s consent to be their oracle by threatening her life/her friends’ lives. Or, more troubling, they could just kill her. I mean, she became the elven oracle when the old one died, right? So, if she died, someone else would get the job. Probably someone less troublesome to deal with. I doubt they’re gonna go straight for that because they seem to want her alive, at least for now. But it is a concern. 

Of course, we’re assuming that what’s happening on the face of this is the whole story, but that’s not necessarily true. Iirc, all we heard was that they found the oracle and they were gonna bring her back to Falinel. For all we know, the elves could be working for Adaine’s mom. Of Adaine’s mom could be working with Falinel. Or she could be working with Falinel just as a way to get to her daughter. We really don’t know. The last person on this show that got kidnapped was Fabian and that was a friendly kidnapping. Anything is possible. 

Something that struck me as a possibility: This fight seems like it’s gonna suck. There is a world where the ideal move for Adaine is to pull an Evy (from the Mummy--two Mummy refs in one recap, did not plan that, I just love the Mummy) and agree to go with the Falinel elves if they help them instead (or at least stop helping Wicklaw) with the faith that her friends will come rescue her. I doubt they actually care much about what happens in the government of this pirate junk city. I’m curious about how they ended up together anyway. I’m guessing the elves clued into what was going on while scrying on the group and decided an alliance might be useful.

Brennan about both Ally’s Applebees Reference and Fig using a Leviathan phonebook: That is nothing.

Shoutout to Fruzzinoid in the chat who said Ally’s alignment is chaotic-chaotic. Accurate.

I love the laughing-squawk that Brennan does for Ayda as much as I hate the fact that he made the Choice to spell it that way.

Truly, the entire scene where Lou is recapping the fight from last episode and he’s laughing uncontrollably but Fabian is clearly crying and he’s expressing both of those things simultaneously is beautiful. 

A Fabian line that really hit but that I haven’t mentioned yet: “I probably have one follower running around. Never mind he’s my father’s just like everything else I have.” Ow. Such a deep cut but so off the cuff from Lou. As a writer, this show makes me so mad because that’s such a good line of dialogue that Lou just dropped out of his mouth like it was nothing. How dare he? 

Another good line I didn’t mention before, this tie from Riz: “We all draw strength from each other. You went in without your crew. What’s a pirate without his crew?” Ugh, Murph. Who gave you the right?

This episode has made me extremely curious about what Cathilda thinks about Hilariel. Because she sees herself as Fabian’s mom--which she essentially has been in a lot of the ways that count since Hilariel has been mentally out to lunch for the past however many years. To be clear, I do think Hilariel loves Fabian. She just hasn’t really been present even though she’s been literally present. The way Cathilda phrased some of the things she said and the way she seems to talk about Fabian’s dad so much more than his mom makes me wonder if she doesn’t...resent isn’t the right word exactly. Maybe, disapprove? It makes me wonder if she doesn’t disapprove of Hilariel’s parenting choices more than she lets on. 

Kristen’s, “Do you listen to music?” in the middle of actually useful questions for Ayda. 

Rich people sicknesses include having eaten too much caviar or smoked a cigar for too long in case you’re wondering.

“You want an orange, pal?”

On a practical note, we have two more episodes to go until the show breaks for the year so prepare yourselves from now people!

Riz, Adaine, and Gorgug each rolled one Nat 20 apiece. Fig, Gorgug, and Adaine each rolled a Nat 1 (but Adaine presumably cancelled out hers rolling with advantage because of Boggy). Fabian, who is still living his worst life, rolled three Nat 1s. Tragic.  

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #report card

[imagine-your-love-story]

Your story with Din is so cute! And lil' baby Yoda makes an appearance too🥺 How do you write so well? Is it just something where you start, then you get into The Zone™, and then you can't stop? ---Doomguy Anon

omg THANK YOU SO MUCH Doomguy Anon!!!!! ♥♥♥ (one day, I’m gonna figure out who you are and hug you ;)

So! Writing! Okay. This is my JAM. Prepare for the incoming info dump!!!

I’ve been writing for roughly 10-12 years. I’d always dreamed of writing and publishing a novel for as long as I could remember. So I read everything I could on the process and I started telling the stories I had in my head.

Now, having said that, I need to leave a side note here. 

It took a LONG time.

I’ve written hundreds of thousands of words across original stories, poems, fanfiction, you name it.

I didn’t start out well (and I also started “late”, around 18-ish, so I was no child prodigy writing since I could hold a pen). I received some pretty crushing criticism and a lot of rejections. But that’s okay! Around 2010, I had my first short story published in a very small independent press (I’m not even sure if they’re still active anymore!). I was paid $15 and even though I knew that wasn’t much at all, I was absolutely thrilled to get paid for my writing! (And it was no genius story either)

That really amped up my writing. I joined sites like Wattpad and fanfiction.net and AO3 and I wrote like crazy.

It also helped that I was in pretty large fandoms. About 4-5 years ago, I was heavy into the Star Wars fandom and I wrote like a woman possessed. Like, I couldn’t sleep because I had so many ideas boiling in my brain and I HAD to write or it would feel like an incessant itch I couldn’t scratch!

I continued focusing heavily on short stories with the occasional novel here and there. Author Ray Bradbury suggested writing short stories to become familiar with the art of writing. It gives you a project you can actually finish rather than the long-haul marathon of writing a novel. It teaches you how to tell a story in a short, compact, and snappy time frame that holds the reader’s attention.

I also joined NaNoWriMo, which, if you’re not familiar with it is National Novel Writing Month. I believe I’ve done it about six or seven times now? Did any of those  novels actually get to a final polished draft? Heck no! But it gave me the chance to become familiar with words, to let myself make mistakes and still keep writing. 

I also keep a journal daily. The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron suggested it’s a great way for creatives to explore their creativity unhindered in its purest, raw form without feeling like they have to make everything perfect all the time.

So I write a minimum of 3 pages every day (sometimes 4x that much if I have a lot on my mind!) and I’ve been doing that for about 7 years.

Some people don’t care for journaling (which is okay!) but for me, it’s like a sanctuary. It’s just me and the words. I can just write. About anything and everything. I never reread it, I don’t edit. I let the words just GO.

I have trouble with wanting everything to be eXACTLY PERFECT and my journal reminds me that words and thoughts and concepts MUST be messy first. The words MUST get on the page before I can start to corral them into a story!

Because my anxiety causes me speech problems sometimes, writing has become a natural form of communication for me. I’m FAR more comfortable putting words on the page than I ever am with speaking, even to people I’m familiar with.

So the pieces of advice I have for writing are this:

1. Write. 

It’s literally the simplest thing and your brain does not want to accept it (trust me, every writer struggles with this). Classes and trainings can only teach you the basic tools but they can’t teach you how to tell YOUR stories. That’s a relationship you have to cultivate with only yourself and the blank page (as terrifying as that sounds).

2. Read.

The more you read, the more you fill your brain with words to use. And it also gives you the chance to recognize structures and styles that other authors use which will help you to build your own stories.

THIS INCLUDES FANFICTION. Plenty of traditionally published authors write fanfiction so it’s not a lesser form of literature/writing. Read everything!

3. LET IT BE MESSY AND “BAD”

I struggle with THIS SO MUCH. In order to have written a story, the words MUST be on the page. Not in your head. So put the words on the paper. ALL OF THEM. You can ALWAYS take out words or rearrange them later!

“Bad” writing doesn’t exist. It just means you’re learning. You don’t look at a child’s drawing and say, “That’s terrible.” You encourage them and you point out how you like the way they used color and lines. Because they’re learning. And so are you.

4. GET SUPPORT

This. is. soooo important. The act of writing is fairly solitary but the PROCESS of writing requires other people to motivate you when your creative batteries run dry.

When I was super active in the SW fandom, I was OBSESSED with writing 24/7. But I had a lot of people who were looking forward to my stories and that fed my enthusiasm. 

Due to fandom politics, I left the SW fandom two years ago and now I’m only on the fringes. That crazed MUST WRITE ALWAYS obsession I had? Nah. I haven’t been able to write that much anymore. So it’s super super super important to have a support group. 

But if you don’t have support right now, DON’T LET IT STOP YOU.

I didn’t have much support when I was starting out. But I really wanted to write so I kept doing it.

It’s a journey. It’s supposed to be fun and give you a chance to explore the thoughts in your head, the stories you want to tell.

I’m still not where I want to be with my writing goals (still working on that coveted novel!). But literally, the only way to get better at writing is to keep putting words on the page. Those early stories will be rough around the edges. They won’t be pretty. 

But they will be YOURS. And with every story you tell, you really do get better, I promise. ♥

p.s. almost forgot! For me, my writing fluctuates depending on what’s going on in my life at the time and energy-wise. It’s RARE for me to get In the Zone TM. That’s for very, very few stories. Most of the time, I have to plink it out. Word by word, phrase by phrase. 

Some days, the writing will flow really well and words will be like magic.

Other days, I don’t know how to put a sentence together to save my life. It feels like I’ve “forgotten” how words work.

So no matter how much time and effort you put into writing, it will never be easy but there is a rhythm to it and you learn to ride the highs and lows. And dang, when it’s done? And you have a story? It’s a head rush like nothing else!

#asks #Anonymous #doomguy anon #wow that was really rambly #i hope that helped??? #if you need more specific information #please let me know! #i was kind of all over the place on this response!

[buzzdixonwriter]

A Long But Not Pointless Ramble In Which We Discuss Sci-Fi Flicks

We’re gonna ramble around a bunch of connected topics, so pour yourself a cuppa and enjoy the ride.

. . .

I’m a big fan of 1950s sci-fi B-movies.

Years ago, when I was chatting with the late film historian Bill Warren on this, he made a pertinent observation:  1950s sci-fi B-movies tend to be more fondly remembered than most better mounted and more professionally executed sci-fi films that came afterwards.

There’s a couple of three reasons for this:

The shock of the new -- most of those films pioneered a brand new genre and style, looking far different from previous genre offerings such as Flash Gordon or Things To Come.  As such, they score branding points by being first, even if later examples are better made.

They possess a certain naïve charm -- by and large they’re not sophisticated nor exceptionally well thought out (though when they do demonstrate flashes of intellect, it’s always a delight).  One feels these films are being made up on the fly (and in a certain sense, they were; see (1) above) and in an odd manner they prove more innocent and thus more fun than those that came later.

Most of them were cheap -- this combines with points (1) & (2) to force most 1950s sci-fi B-movies to focus tightly on one idea / one image to sell the film.  As a result there’s a startling clarity of vision in even the most flimsy of productions that’s lacking in later, more elaborate movies.  The weaker examples of this genre are those films trying to cover more ground than their cheaper cousins.

. . .

Two cases in point:  Jack Arnold’s Tarantula for Universal is a technically better made movie than Bert I. Gordon’s The Spider for AIP, but Tarantula loses focus, dawdling about on character development and sub-plots instead of concentrating on the big ass spider.

The Spider is far weaker in the script / performances / production value departments, but who gives a %#@& ? -- it’s got a big ass spider tearing up the countryside for most of the picture.

Not to put down Arnold and his effects crew’s efforts; they ingeniously figured out a way to not only get their tarantula to realistically crawl over uneven landscapes but actually cast a shadow as it did so, heightening the realism.

Gordon, conversely, simple shot his spider in front of still photos; the shots look as crude as they sound.

But The Spider delivers what Tarantula only teases:  An attack by said big ass spider on a population center.  Tarantula famously ends with an uncredited Clint Eastwood napalming the monster in the desert on the outskirts of town; The Spider actually goes rampaging through its town, and features one of the most iconic shots of any sci-fi movie:  As the big ass spider bears down on her, a terrified woman slams her car door shut on her skirt and in her panic tries to tug it loose instead of simply opening the door again.

George Lucas crowds the screen with thousands of furiously dogfighting CGI starships and that lacks the gut punching impact of that one simple terrifying shot. 

. . .

An even more pertinent example can be found in the oeuvre of Irving Block and Jack Rabin (I know, you’re going “Who?”  Patience, young jedi; all will be explained below).

Block and Rabin (along with Louis DeWitt, their silent 3rd partner) ran a small special effects house in Hollywood in the late 1940s-50s with an interesting strategy for drumming up business.

They’d devise an interesting yet inexpensive (i.e., clever but cheap) special effects technique, build a story around it, then pitch that story to low budget movie producers with the proviso their firm would be hired to do the special effects for the final film.

This resulted in a number of low budget sci-fi films built around the kernel of an interesting visual, and while they night not have been great examples of the cinematic art, hey certainly created a number of memorable scenes and images from little more than scotch tape and rubber bands.

Unknown World was their take on Jules Verne’s Journey To The Center Of The Earth (no dinosaurs but then again, no Pat Boone, so they came out ahead on that one); Atomic Submarine pitted the US Navy against a UFO; Kronos featured a wholly unique alien invader; and War Of The Satellites staged an epic space opera on a bargain basement budget.

All noteworthy 1950s sci-fi B-movies, but ironically it was the film where their strategy failed -- or rather, only proved 50% successful -- that stands out.

Figuring out how to make footprints appear as if by magic, Block and Rabin devised a story about a spaceship landing on a planet of invisible monsters (as they pointed out, the great thing about invisible monsters is that even the cheapest production can afford millions of ‘em).

Their agent sent the pitch around to all the usual suspects at that time in the low budget indie film universe but, learning another studio not know for low budget sci-fi wanted to hop on the band wagon, sent it there as well.

That studio bought the idea, thanked Block and Rabin for their input, but said they’d let their own B-movie unit team handle the special effects,

And that’s how MGM made Forbidden Planet.

. . .

Today Forbidden Planet is a much beloved classic of the genre, but when released it proved a bit of a disappointment.

Oh, it made money (then and now, studios refuse to fund a production unless they already know in advance they will recoup their expenses and make a profit in advance of actual production) but it didn’t do anywhere near the business they hoped.

Part of this was timing -- it came out after dozens of lesser / cheaper films crowded the market -- but part of it is paradox:  It’s just too damn good.

No bones about it, Forbidden Planet was a B-movie for MGM.

In terms of overall quality, however, any MGM B-movie is bound to look like an A-picture from any other studio, and that’s exactly what happened here:  A literate, dynamite script; solid performances; top notch production values; bursting at the seams with ideas and incidents and details.

Sci-fi fans loved it, mainstream audiences not so much.

What sci-fi fans perceived as a groundbreaking classic, mainstream audiences viewed as:  Flying saucer something something something robot blah blah blah invisible monster.

What audiences today remember when they think of Forbidden Planet is the single most iconic element of the film.

Robby the robot.

He’s what sticks.  Robby made a big enough impression to star in his own follow up feature a few years later (The Invisible Boy) as well as guest star appearances on The Twilight Zone, Lost In Space, Columbo, and scores of other movies / TV shows / personal appearances.

Pick an iconic element. Stick with it.

. . .

The trick to doing memorable sci-fi movies is keeping the key visual elements down to as few sharply defined items as possible.

Star Wars (i.e., the unnumbered original release) is even more crowded in detail than Forbidden Planet but it holds its iconic visual elements down to a crucial handful:  Masked villain in black.  Laurel & Hardy robots.  Friendly yeti.  Glow swords.  Big bad artificial planet.

Every other visual element serves those, and while they provide detail and texture, they aren’t distractions.

Seriously, jettison the plot of the original Star Wars and reconfigure it from the ground up with those elements and it still winds up pretty much the same film, just set on different worlds.

This is why later films in the series, despite bigger and bigger revenues, lack the memorable freshness and emotional clarity of the original (getting cluttered up with superfluous characters and vehicles inserted just to sell toys doesn’t help, and I post this as one of the original writers for the G.I. Joe and Transformers series).

To reiterate: If you want to make an impression, less is more.

. . .

We’re going to amble on over to a parallel path and talk about ultra-low budget / no budget / homemade / hand-crafted / DIY film making, particularly in the sci-fi arena.

I watch a fair amount of lo-to-no budget sci-fi on Amazon Prime and YouTube.  Many of these are done for pure love of the genre and the film making process, and from that POV of producers and participants just wanting to have fun, they’re modestly enjoyable.

From the POV of actual good film making and sci-fi…not so much.  (There are exceptions and we’ll get to one of those; patience, young jedi…)

The overwhelming bulk of these films -- features and shorts -- are pretty derivative.

I don’t mean “unoriginal” the way 80-90% of professionally produced media is unoriginal, I mean “derivative” as in trying specifically to re-create something someone else did first…

...and better.

And this is in addition to the plethora of Star Trek / Star Wars / Dr. Who / superhero fan films out there; those are a separate though related phenomenon.

Rather, it’s the unmpeenth Alien ripoff / the 400th E.T. variant / the latest Mad Max clone / the most current example of last decade’s biggest hits.

They’re generally not that good taken on their own, no matter how much fun the makers are having.

For me the nadir of such films are those done by film makers imitating bad movies by deliberately making a bad movie.

Don’t do that, folks. 

Please. 

Don’t squander time and talent doing substandard work.

I’m not saying don’t make the kind of film (or draw the kind of art, or write the kind of story) you want to make; I’m just saying don’t deliberately make a piss-poor job of it.

Block and Rabin may never have made a truly good movie but not because they weren’t trying!

Cheap films?  Yes. Exploitable films?  Yes.

But films meant to be as good as they could make them.

There’s an MST3K notorious bad 1950s sci-fi movie called Teenagers From Outer Space.  Tom Graef, its writer / producer / director / editor / co-star was a former film student wanting to break into the big time so he made this cheesy movie to the utmost of his ability.

And lordie, it ain’t good…

…but by gawd, he was trying.

The folks who make deliberately bad pastiches of substandard B-movies were always a sore point for Bill Warren.

“The original film makers weren’t trying to make a bad movie!” he’d rave.

So please, don’t do deliberately shoddy work and try to explain it away by calling it a “parody”.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a parody, and everybody in it is aiming for the centerfield fence, turning in A-level performances.

I know it’s fun making models and cobbling together costumes and props and sets from junk, and recruiting friends and family to have fun making a movie, and if your audience is just going to be those friends and family, fine.

But if you want to be seen and appreciated by a wider audience, have some respect for them…and your own abilities as a film maker.

. . .

All of which brings us in a roundabout fashion to The Vast Of Night, a recent ultra-low budget sci-fi film that asks the non-musical question “What would a Twilight Zone mash-up of X-Files and Close Encounters Of The Third Kind look like?”

“Pretty impressive,” is the answer.

Let’s start with the Achilles’ heel of most lo-to-no budget DIY productions:  The cast.

The Vast Of Night enjoys impeccable casting, a;; the way down to the most minor roles.

I can’t stress enough how important this is for small productions.

Actors give you more bounce for your buck than anything else on your budget.  Good actors can make mediocre material bearable, they can bring good material to full blown life.

In The Vast Of Night’s case, the two leads -- Jake Horowitz as Everett, an all night DJ in a tiny late 1950s New Mexico town, and Sierra McCormick as Fay Crocker, the local substitute late night phone operator -- play off each other with delightful on screen chemistry.

No kidding, I’d watch these two characters go grocery shopping for an hour and a half, that’s how well Horowitz and McCormick play off each other.

Next, the story.  Obviously story and screenplay come before casting, but in the final analysis an okay story is far better served by a good cast than a good story by an okay cast.

Screenwriters James Montague and Craig W. Sanger do a good job with their script for The Vast Of Night.  As noted, it’s far from original but is fleshed out with enough distinctive elements to let the cast find plenty to work with.

For aspiring film makers, the script is typically the least expensive part of the process, and if you don’t like your draft you can always chuck it out and start afresh,

Finally, it’s okay to look inexpensive but don’t look cheap.

You can get away with a stark cinema verité style if that’s what the material calls for but you need to keep a consistent style and tone throughout.

A lot of DIY films do themselves a grave disservice by spending a lot of time / energy / money on a prop / costume / special effect that calls undo attention to itself by being so much better than everything surrounding it.

Director Andrew Patterson keeps things stylish while clamping a lid on its budget; this good pre-production planning pays off with a consistency of style and tone that helps keep the audience engaged, their disbelief suspended.

The Vast Of Night is what I refer to as a “minimum basic movie” i.e., the lowest bar you should shoot for with your own film making.

It’s far from a deathless classic, but it’s a fun ride.

And speaking of fun rides…this ramble is o-v-e-r.

  © Buzz Dixon

#sci-fi #film making #The Vast Of Night #Robby the Robot #Irving Block #Jack Rabin #Jack Arnold #Bert I Gordon #Tarantula movie #Earth Vs The Spider movie #B-movies #Kronos #Unknown World #Atomic Submarine #War Of The Satellites #Star Wars #Close Encounters Of The Third Kind #X-Files #Teenagers From Outer Space #Tom Graef #Jake Horowitz #Sierra McCormick #James Montague #Craig W. Sanger #Andrew Patterson #Twilight Zone #The Rocky Horror Picture Show #The Spider #parody