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luveline · 3 years

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you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #fred weasly x reader #sad reader #reader insert #artist reader #fred weasley fluff #sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit #why woukd they do that

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kmclaude · 3 years

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Forgive me Father, I have no awful headcanons for you, only a general question on comic making. How do you do it, writing-wise/how do you decide what points go where, how do you plot it out (or do you have any resources on the writing aspect that you find useful?) Not to get too bogged down in details, but I attended a writer’s workshop and the author in residence suggested I transfer my wordy sci-fi WIP into graphic novel script, as it might work better. (I do draw, but I don’t know if I have it in me to draw a whole comic—characters in motion? Doing things? With backgrounds? How dare, why can’t everyone just stand around looking pretty)

I was interested but it quickly turned into a lot of internal screaming as I tried to figure out how to compress the hell out of it, since novels are free to do a lot more internal monologuing and such compared to a comic format (to say nothing of trying to write a script without seeing how the panels lay out—just for my own sake, I might have to do both concurrently.)

As an aside, to get a feel for graphic novels I was rereading 99RM and was reminded of how great it was—tightly plotted, intriguing, and anything to do with Ashmedai was just beautifully drawn. I need more Monsignor Tiefer and something something there are parallels between Jehan and Daniel in my head and I don’t know if they make sense but it works for me. (As an aside, I liked the emphasis on atonement being more than just the word sorry, but acknowledgment you did wrong and an attempt to remedy it—I don’t know why that spoke to me the way that it did.)

I thought Tumblr had a word count limit for asks but so far it has offered zero resistance, oh well. I don’t have much else to say but on the topic of 99RM, Adam getting under Monsignor’s skin is amazing, 10/10 (about the Pride picture earlier)

wow tumblr got rid of the markdown editor! or at least in asks which means the new editor probably has no markdown....god i hate this site! anyway...

Totally! So first, giant thank you for the compliments! Second, I have a few questions in turn for you before I dive into a sort of answer, since I can give some advice to your questions in general but it also sounds like you have a specific conundrum on your hands.

My questions to your specific situation are:

did the author give any reason for recommending a, in your words, "wordy" story be turned into a graphic novel?

is the story you're writing more, like you said, "internal monologuing"? action packed? where do the visuals come from?

do you WANT it to be a comic? furthermore, do you want it to be a comic you then must turn around and draw? or would you be interested in writing for comics as a comic writer to have your words turned into art?

With those questions in mind, let me jump into the questions you posed me!

Let me start with a confession...

I've said this before but let me say it again: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men was not originally a comic — it was a feature-length screenplay! And furthermore, it was written for a class so it got workshopped again and again to tighten the plot by a classroom of other nerds — so as kind as your compliments are, I'm giving credit where credit is due as that was not just a solo ship sailing on the sea. On top of that, it got adapted (by me) into a comic for my thesis, so my advisor also helped me make it translate or "read" well given I was director, actor, set designer, writer, editor, SFX guy, etc. all in one. And it was a huge help to have someone say "there is no way you can go blow by blow from script to comic: you need to make edits!" For instance, two scenes got compressed to simple dialogue overlaid on the splashpage of Ashmedai raping Caleb (with an insert panel of Adam and Daniel talking the next day.) What had been probably at least 5 pages became 1.

Additionally, I don't consider myself a strong plotter. That said, I found learning to write for film made the plotting process finally make some damn sense since the old plot diagram we all got taught in grammar school English never made sense as a reader and definitely made 0 sense as a writer — for me, for some reason, the breakdown of 25-50-25 (approx. 25 pages for act 1, 50 for act 2 split into 2 parts of 25 each, 25 pages for act 3) and the breaking down of the beats (the act turning points, the mid points, the low point) helped give me a structure that just "draw a mountain, rising action, climax is there, figure it out" never did. Maybe the plot diagram is visually too linear when stories have ebb and flow? I don't know. But it never clicked until screenwriting. So that's where I am coming from. YMMV.

I should also state that there's Official Ways To Write Comic Scripts to Be Drawn By An Artist (Especially If You Work For A Real Publisher As a Writer) and there's What Works For You/Your Team. I don't give a rat's ass about the former (and as an artist, I kind of hate panel by panel breakdowns like you see there) so I'm pretty much entirely writing on the latter here. I don't give a good god damn about official ways of doing anything: what works for you to get it done is what matters.

What Goes Where?

Like I said, 99RM was a screenplay so it follows, beat-wise, the 3-act screenplay structure (hell, it's probably more accurate to say it follows the act 1/act 2A/act 2B/act 3 structure.) So there was the story idea or concept that then got applied to those story beats associated with the structure, and from there came the Scene-by-scene Breakdown (or Expanded Scene Breakdown) which basically is an outline of beats broken down into individual scenes in short prose form so you get an overview of what happens, can see pacing, etc. In the resources at the end I put some links that give information on the whole story beat thing.

(As an aside: for all my short comics, I don't bother with all that, frankly. I usually have an image or a concept or a bit of writing — usually dialogue or monologue, sometimes a concrete scene — that I pick at and pick at in a little sketchbook, going back and forth between writing and thumbnail sketches of the page. Or I just go by the seat of my pants and bullshit my way through. Either or. Those in many ways are a bit more like poems, in my mind: they are images, they are snapshots, they are feelings that I'm capturing in a few panels. Think doing mental math rather than writing out geometric proofs, yanno?)

Personally, I tend to lean on dialogue as it comes easier for me (it's probably why I'm so drawn to screenwriting!) so for me, if I were to do another longform GN, I'd probably take my general "uhhhhhh I have an idea and some beats maybe so I guess this should happen this way?" outline and start breaking it down scene by scene (I tend to write down scenes or scene sketches in that "uhhhh?" outline anyway LOL) and then figure out basic dialogue and action beats — in short, I'd kind of do the work of writing a screenplay without necessarily going full screenplay format (though I did find the format gave me an idea of timing/pacing, as 1 page of formatted script is about equal to 1 minute of screentime, and gave me room to sketch thumbnails or make edits on the large margins!) If you're not a monologue/soliloque/dialogue/speech person and more an image and description person, you may lean more into visuals and scenes that cut to each other.

Either way this of course introduces the elephant in the panel: art! How do you choose what to draw?

The answer is, well, it depends! The freedom of comics is if you can imagine it, you can make it happen. You have the freedoms (and audio limitations) of a truly silent film with none of the physical limitations. Your words can move in real time with the images or they can be a narrative related to the scene or they could be nonsequitors entirely! The better question is how do you think? Do you need all the words and action written first before you break down the visuals? Do you need a panel by panel breakdown to be happy, or can you freewheel and translate from word and general outlines to thumbnails? What suits you? I really cannot answer this because I think when it comes to what goes where with regard to art, it's a bit of "how do you process visuals" and also a bit of "who's drawing this?" — effectively, who is the interpreter for the exact thing you are writing? Is it you or someone else? If it's you, would you benefit from a barebones script alongside thumbnailed paneling? Would you be served by a barebones script, then thumbnails, then a new script that includes panel and page breakdowns? What frees you up to do what you need to do to tell your story?

If I'm being honest, I don't necessarily worry about panels or what something will look like necessarily until I'm done writing. I may have an image that I clearly state needs to happen. I may even have a sequence of panels that I want to see and I do indeed sketch that out and make note of it in my script. But exactly how things will be laid out, paneled, situated? That could change up until I've sketched my final pencils in CSP (but I am writer and artist so admittedly I get that luxury.)

How do I compress from novel to comic?

Honest answer? You don't. Not really. You adapt from one to another. It's more a translation. Something that would take forever to write may take 1 page in a comic or may take a whole issue.

I'm going to pick on Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo spent a whole-ass book in Notre-Dame de Paris talking about a bird's eye view of Paris and other medieval architecture boring stuff, with I guess some foreshadowing with Montfaucon. Who cares. Not me. I like story. Anyway. When we translate that book to a movie any of the billion times someone's done that, we don't spend a billion years talking at length about medieval Paris. There's no great monologuing about the gibbet or whatever: you get to have some establishing shots, maybe a musical number, and then you move tf on. Because it's a movie, right? Your visuals are right there. We can see medieval Paris. We can see the cathedral. We can see the gibbet. We don't need a whole book: it's visually right there. Same with a comic: you may need many paragraphs to describe, say, a space station off of Sirius and one panel to show it.

On the flip side, you may take one line, maybe two, to say a character keyed in the special code to activate the holodeck; depending on the visual pacing, that could be a whole page of panels (are we trying to stretch time? slow it down? what are we emphasizing?) A character gives a sigh of relief — one line of text, yeah? That could be a frozen panel while a conversation continues on or that could be two (or more!) panels, similar to the direction [a beat] in screenwriting.

Sorry there's not a super easy answer there to the question of compression: it's a lot more of a tug, a push-pull, that depends on what you're conveying.

So Do I Have It In Me to Write & Draw a GN?

The only way you'll know is by doing. Scary, right? The thing is, you don't necessarily need to be an animation king or God's gift to background artists to draw a comic.

Hell, I hate backgrounds. I still remember sitting across from my friend who said "Claude you really need to draw an establishing exterior of the church at some point" and me being like "why do you hate me specifically" because drawing architecture? Again? I already drew the interior of the church altar ONCE, that should be enough, right? But I did draw an exterior of the church. Sorta. More like the top steeple. Enough to suggest what I needed to suggest to give the audience a better sense of place without me absolutely losing my gourd trying to render something out of my wheelhouse at the time.

And that's kinda the ticket, I think. Not everyone's a master draftsman. Not everyone has all the skills in every area. And regardless, from page one to page one hundred, your skills will improve. That's all part of it — and in the meantime, you should lean into your strengths and cheat where you can.

Do you need to lovingly render a background every single panel? Christ no! Does every little detail need to be drawn out? Sure if you want your hand to fall off. Cheat! Use Sketchup to build models! Use Blender to sculpt forms to paint over! Use CSP Assets for prebuilt models and brushes if you use CSP! Take photographs and manip them! Cheat! Do what you need to do to convey what you need to convey!

For instance, a tip/axiom/"rule" I've seen is one establishing shot per scene minimum and a corollary to that has been include a background once per page minimum as grounding (no we cannot all have eternal floating heads and characters in the void. Unless your comic is set in the void. In which case, you do you.) People ain't out here drawing hyper detailed backgrounds per each tiny panel. The people who DO do that are insane. Or stupid. Or both. Or have no deadline? Either way, someone's gonna have a repetitive stress injury... Save yourself the pain and the headache. Take shortcuts. Save your punches for the big K.O. moments.

Start small. Make an 8-page zine. Tell a beginning, a middle, an end in comic form. Bring a scene to life in a few pages. See what you're comfortable drawing and where you struggle. See where you can lean heavily into your comfort zones. Learn how to lean out of your comfort zone. Learn when it's worth it to do the latter.

Or start large. Technically my first finished comic (that wasn't "a dumb pencil thing I drew in elementary school" or "that 13 volume manga I outlined and only penciled, what, 7 pages of in sixth grade" or "random one page things I draw about my characters on throw up on the interwebz") was 99RM so what do I know. I'm just some guy on the internet.

(That's not self-deprecating, I literally am some guy on the internet talking about my path. A lot of this is gonna come down to you and what vibes with you.)

Resources on writing

Some of these are things that help me and some are things that I crowd-sourced from others. Some of these are going to be screenwriting based, some will be comic based.

Making Comics by Scott McCloud: I think everyone recommends this but I think it is a useful book if you're like "ahh!!! christ!! where do I start!!!???" It very much breaks down the elements of comics and the world they exist in and the principles involved, with the caveat that there are no rules! In fact, I need to re-read it.

Comic Book Design: I picked this up at B&N on a whim and in terms of just getting a bird's eye view of varied ways to tackle layout and paneling? It's such a great resource and reference! I personally recommend it as a way to really get a feel for what can be done.

the screenwriter's bible: this is a book that was used in my class. we also used another book that's escaping me but to be honest, I never read anything in school and that's why I'm so stupid. anyway, I'd say check it out if you want, especially if you start googling screenwriting stuff and it's like 20 billion pieces of advice that make 0 sense -- get the core advice from one place and then go from there.

Drawing Words & Writing Pictures: many people I know recommended this. I think I have it? It may be in storage. So frankly, I'd already read a bunch of books on comics before grabbing this that it kind of felt like a rehash. Which isn't shade on the authors — I personally was just a sort of "girl, I don't need comics 101!!!"

Invisible Ink: A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate: this has been recommended so many times to me. I cannot personally speak on it but I can say I do trust those who rec'd it to me so I am passing it along

the story circle: this is pretty much the hero's journey. a useful way to think of journeys! a homie pretty much swears by it

a primer on beats: quick google search got me this that outlines storybeats

save the cat!: what the above refers to, this gives a more genre-specific breakdown. also wants to sell you on the software but you don't need that.

I hope this helps and please feel free to touch base with more info about your specific situation and hopefully I'll have more applicable answers.

#writing #making a graphic novel #writing a graphic novel #tutorial #writing tutorial

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jenbendraws · 4 years

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How to train yourself to be an effective storyboard artist

HI HELLO long time no see! I haven’t been on here in a long time!

A while back, a student reached out to me over e-mail and asked for suggestions and tips on storyboarding, and asked how to become an effective storyboard artist. I wrote a whole lot in response because I love talking about this stuff--I hope it was helpful for her, and I figured I’d post it here just in case it could be helpful for anyone else!

To be an effective storyboard artist in any medium, you'll want to:

Be a solid draftsperson: be able to draw proper perspective, correct proportions, clear acting (both gesture/movement and facial acting). Some shows will want you to draw perfectly on model, others won't, but the most important thing is--can you clearly draw all the information needed by the many departments who will use your storyboards as a blueprint for the final product?

Be a cinematographer: know good shot composition, the utility of shot choices i.e. a medium shot versus a close up (intimate) versus a wide (informational, impersonal). Know how to guide the audience's eye to what's most important on the screen from shot to shot, not just in a single drawing.

Be an editor: understand how a scene will feel when moving, where and when to cut to the next shot. Is it more effective to stay close on this character as they react, to give the audience time to feel and settle into the same thoughts or emotions the character is feeling? Or is the character's reaction not the point of this scene?

Be an actor: know how a character moves, talks, what small mannerisms make a character feel alive and uniquely them. Be able to think about and show how a character lives in and interacts with the world around them--how one character might walk into a room entirely differently than another.

It's a lot! But it can be a lot of fun, and it means you never really stop learning. (I'M definitely still learning.) You also don’t need to be great at all of those things (or even most of them) to get a job as a storyboard revisionist--you just need strong drawing fundamentals, an interest in storytelling for TV/movies/etc, and you’ll want to be ready and excited to learn on the job.

One of the best ways to practice all of the above is to do film studies. Find a scene in a movie or show (or a video game cut scene, even--many narrative games out there are on par with great tv and film) you love and watch it through a few times. What is the sequence of shots? How does the composition in one shot lead your eye to the next? What motivates a cut--does a character start to stand up, does someone from off-screen start to say something? Do quick thumbnail sketches for each shot, each important beat inside that shot--the important thing isn't to do nice drawings, but to capture the information in the sequence as it's given to you as an audience member. You'll start to understand the machinery behind it all, see the strings being pulled, the reasons for the decisions behind made--why is the lighting like this? What tiny expression change from the character totally changes the feeling of the scene? Why is it cutting so quickly, or so slowly? You'll build your shot library and hone your decision-making skills the more you study and understand the reasons behind it all.

Other ways to train: study storyboards from artists you find online! There are so many great storyboards being posted these days. You'll get a good understanding of what the work actually looks like, and how it can vary depending on the style of production. Boards on Steven Universe will vary a lot from a show like Adventure Time will vary a lot from a show like Korra, etc.

I also recommend books like: The Filmmaker's Eye: Learning (and Breaking) the Rules of Cinematic Composition, and any of the Master Shots books.

I've used Storyboard Pro almost exclusively as a professional. It's the best program I know for doing production storyboards. However: all the training I did leading up to my first job was done on paper, or on Photoshop. I didn't learn how to use SBPro until my very first job. It's easy to pick up how to use software, and the programs used might change--better to focus on the skills that you'll use your whole career, no matter the program!

#storyboard advice

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springfieldblues · 3 years

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im an artist but im not exactly an Artist yknow, like, ive never been to art school or studied or whatever aha but do you have any advice for drawing comics? like how do you plan springkids!?

the only advice i can give you is very rough and basic but it might be able to help you figure out where to start. here are my basic steps:

-plan the story obviously! this is what i have the most trouble with because i'm very disorganized. i think different people have different methods for this. for example, making diagrams helped me visualize the basic flow of the story. separating it in arcs help a ton as well.

-write a script. only thing i can say here is that NOTHING is ever final. i'm making script changes literally as i draw pages (which is part of the reason why i take so long, i need to do a lot of rewrites)

-make thumbnails! in case you don't know, these are like very quick and rough miniatures of each page that serve as a fast way to visualize how a page would look. it's very important to pay attention to panel layouts during this stage since everything is much easier to redo. i suggest looking up "comic paneling tips" for some quick do's and don't's and keep them in mind when figuring out how you want to tell your story. also speech bubble positioning is very important!! otherwise reading will be confusing!!

(these are my thumbnails btw they're a bit more elaborate than your traditional thumbnail but it's what works for me)

-once you're happy with your thumbnails and each sequence makes sense and reads correctly, you can start working on the actual pages! do your sketch, but before you get to the inking and coloring, make sure every speech bubble fits where it should, with all the text it needs to hold in it. if something doesn't fit, you can easily fix the sketch to accommodate it.

-now you're ready to do your inking and coloring. there's not much to this, really. do what you feel! just make sure your characters don't blend with the background, keep background colors and details simple so as to not distract from the characters (unless it's an establishing shot and you're supposed to look at the background as well!)

just to show what i mean, let's look at the page below. look how bart's close up panel doesnt have a background. it doesnt need it! the previous establishing shot already told you he's right there. but lisa's first and second panels needed a bit more of context, so you can see the kitchen and a darkened dining room, implying that she went from standing with her back against the wall, to turning around and coming through the kitchen doorway.

i hope this all made sense! i'm self taught so i'm not the best at putting these concepts into words and i might've missed some crucial steps here and there, so i'm hoping you yourself look this stuff up to get better explanations from more qualified people HAHA

good luck!!

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earthnashes · 3 years

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If you already have the basis for a character(backstory, personality, beliefs, place of birth, family, setting, etc. etc.), how do you narrow down traits to express through the design? Personally I've tried for literal years to design this one character and I am never satisfied, yet you're posting new content all the time. I'm so envious!

Keep in mind that while the character's design should clue a person into what their overall story is (or throw you off what the character's truly about, depending on what you're thinking), that doesn't necessarily mean it should be a walking advertisement for every little detail about the character. The design is a summary, not the entire picture.

As such I suggest you figure exactly what core elements make that character them. For my own personal sanity I always focus on the actual personality first, because the first thing you're gonna know about the character is who they are as a person, not what they've been through and how they got there.

Is your character friendly? Outgoing? Standoffish? Are they perpetually angry, or shy, or charismatic? Do they wear their hearts on their sleeve, or are they sneaky, hard to read? These are things you need to know about your character full stop because they can help dictate one of the most important aspects of the character: their silhouette. After you come up with one, then you can begin focusing on finer details of their design, such as the outfit they wear, or the scars borne to their bodies, their hairstyles, so on.

Character design is literally building the character. While you can sometimes do it in one fell swoop it all follows steps of starting from the ground up. And that process is almost always:

-Research/inspiration: ya need to know what the hell you're drawing before you draw it, even if it's to design a character. What I typically do for the research part is in three parts, which is : A) find characters that fit the vibe I want for inspiration, B) Find outfits or photos that fit what I want the character to possibly wear, and C) color palettes I think would fit. There is no finalization, this is just me gathering things to spur my head into thinking "okay, what does this character look like". I usually find a minimum of 3-5 inspiration pieces.

-Rough stage: explore the character's base silhouette/design. Highly recommend doing thumbnail sketches or ruff drawings; the point is to explore their look, not make a pretty drawing)

-Exploration 1: You got their base look figured out. Now it's time to dig a little deeper into it. This is usually with more exploration, but with a direction. What sort of close do they wear? their hairstyle? How do they carry themselves, what does their face actually look like? Finer details are starting to be shown here but the point is still the exploration of the design

-Exploration 2: You have something that feels like it could be the final design. Time to move on to the colors. Once again, exploration. By this time you might have a good idea of the colors you want but it's never a bad idea to play around with what you have in your head by thinking outside of that box. You might find something you like better.

Finalizing: You have a clear picture of what the character looks like. Time to-- guess what?-- explore further as you finalize their design. For me that typically means fine-tuning their design, whether that be adding scars, or tweaking their body shape a bit, or adding (or subtracting) elements from their outfits. Whatever it may be, don't be afraid to fiddle around with the design a tad before you say it's completed.

This is all easier said than done in practice. Character design is never easy, I personally just enjoy the fuckin' hell out of it so it's part of why I can churn out a design so quickly.

As for how long it's taking you to build a character? Don't fret too much over it. For OCs in particular, it could take a long while before you reach a point where you're fully satisfied with their design. It took me a full year and some change before I reached a point of complete satisfaction with my own OCs, but it does help to know what you're after when you're designing them instead of just shooting in the dark. That's why quick, sketchy exploration is so helpful (at least to me); gives you an idea of what they could look like before you fully commit to an idea.

Hope this helps. uwu

#earthsong talks

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subjectnumberx · 3 years

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Thumbnailing: Subject's Way

Thumbnails are an important workflow tool artists use to make creating their works more efficient. They are essentially tiny, low detail versions of the idea you may have in mind, and save time by helping you catch potential compositional errors, clashing colors in palettes(if you blob some colors on), and poses that simply might not.. work in character art as well as many other things not mentioned.

I am a very visual person and sometimes putting ideas to paper really helps me focus better on the task at hand. Organizing things into steps on the page really helps me not get overwhelmed. It might prove helpful to you as well.

In this tutorial, I'll take you through my workflow process when planning paintings and simple character illustrations.

I start off the process by doing a ton of sketches of whatever thing from many angles, poses, etc. Usually if I have a certain image in mine I simply sketch that and adjust little things like angle, placement of limbs, etc. Work teeny tiny, you can enlarge it later. I,t really depends on what the goal is for that piece what the process looks like. Here the goal was to just draw a character, so I have many options.

environment sketches look a bit different for me, as I will sketch them in literal cubes. I am still working through the technique. I just haven't gotten good enough at them yet to consider a tutorial by me would be helpful to anyone though.

Like with piece D, it's good to plan compositional elements here too. I added the moon that would go in the eventual background, swords in the hands of B and E, etc. Had I had more time, F would have gotten rough roses, but I digress.

After I have base sketches, I do very rough lines so I know what I'm looking at, and it primes me for what I could possibly have issues with in doing the final. I keep it VERY loose and don't dwell too much on details. If I'm drawing a character, I'm not even going to look up references, unless their silhouette is very complex. There is not much need for accuracy here. Just to nail down your subject's silhouette.

At this point, you can start eliminating which poses you don't want. Here I was very indecisive so I went through with sketching all of them.

At this step ill also take the time to plan variants if I feel like I would be indecisive about them/need them for certain platforms (optional).

Here's where things start to actually take the form of thumbnails. I work large and draw most of the anatomy of the subject so that things are positioned correctly in the frame. Draw the whole of something, even if you know it's going to get cropped out. There is nothing worse than trying to draw in a way that is already cropped, it messes up your anatomy bad, and you'll spend more time trying to fix it, especially if you are just starting out as an artist.

Physically drawing a box around them to help with framing is really good to help plan the composition of the final piece. Again, you can eliminate stuff here as well if they don't make interesting compositions. Consider the rule of thirds and how much breathing room you want or need in your piece. The one not in a box was eliminated because I didn't like the pose nor would it make a very interesting piece.

I also use different colors on the boxes so I can overlap them and keep my eyes from getting confused where one "drawing" ends and one begins.

If I'm planning portraits/art in my painterly style, I'll take the time to block in some colors just to see what I should shoot for in the final. I will also do several pairings of colors in their own sets of thumbnails if the piece needs it/i want varients. I highly suggest blobbing so that you can see how potential colors will play with one another. Learning the teeniest bit of color theory will help, I promise, but for now, i'lI'lll refrain from the mini-lecture.

these three two (you'll see), I figured would make better cel-shaded/quicker pieces due to how zoomed out they are, any true details I would want to focus on don't exactly work for my current style faraway. Be sure to tailor compositions that suit your style. I will be keeping these sketch ideas for future reference.

It's important to remember that just because an idea doesn't get used in this piece, that doesn't mean it can't be used in a further piece down the road. I actually have a horrible habit of deleting my thumbnails after I'm done with them, but if I'm thumbnailing in a sketchbook? I find myself browsing back over them for future pieces to get some rough ideas of what could work later.

One last thing, you don't have to plan as many thumbnails as I did, but I do suggest at least 3 or 4 to really stretch your creativity.

Thumbnails also make for a good warm-up. If you're curious, I did the initial sketches in this order: A C E D B F. I think it helped me loosen up a bit, but you can be the judge of that.

I went back and tried another approach for a painting, but now I have the base for 3 paintings I could pursue, albeit rough, but it's good to learn how to paint like a sculptor, I digress.

That's all there is to it. the key is being clean enough to get the idea down, but rough enough to save time. work small, using basic shapes to create silhouettes. You can enlarge it later and use it as a base sketch.

Last two cents: I've also learned that sometimes if a piece is just not working, it's probably more than likely a compositional issue, anatomy, or perspective, Which is why thumbnailing can help you catch these issues early.

happy drawing :)

a/n: this is my first time really creating a tutorial. this might not be groundbreaking information for some of you and that's okay. this tutorial was initially created for someone in an art server I'm in on Discord, hence the slide-text-slide format. I have taken the images and text from that and compiled them here to make it easier to pick up the tips. I do not consider myself a pro on any of the things mentioned by any means, merely my take on it all. Get multiple sources, educate yourself, practice, and find what works for you. - Sub

#its not perfect #but i hope it helps #tutorial #composition #digital art #digital illustration #digital painting #reference #art tutorial #art #sketch #thumbnails #illustration #medibang paint #medibangpaint #digital drawing #drawing

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

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FIC: Syverson the Protector Pt 4

* Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part III (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Summary: You are an embedded journalist and on a mission, everything goes wrong. The two of you have made it to safety and now it’s time for the healing to begin.

Rating for this part: Budding romance, Fluff, medical related content, I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone. I expect to have at most, two more parts, 5 and concluding in 6.

Word count: 2293

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Lying flat on his back, Syverson stared morosely at the ceiling and listened to the gentle thwapping sounds of the bedside machine that was currently and eagerly siphoning fluids out of his intestines. He let his mind tick over what the machine was actually doing to him and blearily considered why he wasn’t in constant pain from the electronic manipulation of his own vulnerable flesh.

Surely those plastic tubes driven into his guts should hurt, right?

Sure, you’re right, his mind chattered, a little giddy to be imparting an unknown bit of information, but consider this: morphine – a wounded man’s best friend.

My best friend, he thought and then as if the devil knew it was being called, another machine beeped and a flood of soft luscious haziness rushed into his bloodstream and he immediately relaxed. This tired mind drifted and it didn’t take long for him to slip back into sleep.

Hours later, Syverson startled out of a clinging and sticky dream with a desperate gasp. He felt hot all over, stiff and aching and the very thought of trying to move elicited a terrible pain response. Hot, oily bile crept up in his throat and his mouth watered in that awful familiar process of preparing him to violently empty his stomach.

I have to sit up, his brain screamed. I have to sit up. I don’t want to puke still lying on my back!

A broad cool hand pressed down on his chest and another closed about his shoulder. Someone was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the heavy veiling fog that enveloped him. He tried to speak to the person, and tried to tell them that he was going to be sick.

‘It’s ok, Henry,’ a voice was telling him. ‘You’re ok. I’ll help you roll onto your side if you need to vomit.’

Swallowing jerkily, throat working hard to force the urge back down, Syverson clamped his teeth and shook his head.

‘All right. How about we move you a bit. Are you ok with that?’

Move? God no. I can’t bear that. Moving meant pain.

He shook his head again, but the warm voice came back to him, sounding much more insistent this time.

‘I can help you, Henry, or I’ll put the positioner in bed with you and it will make you move. We want to prevent pressure sores, remember?’

Syverson took in a breath and after a moment nodded to show that he understood. When the man leaned in close, Syverson could smell his cologne. It was a pleasant and fresh woodsy scent that reminded him of his cabin back home. A sudden homesick ache tightened his chest and tears wet his dry eyes. He didn’t like feeling that way, but everything seemed to be out of his control now. He hated it.

Nevertheless, he put his arms around the man’s shoulders and gritted his teeth when his body was repositioned and stretched out again on the stiff mattress.

He gasped and couldn’t believe how out of breath such a small exertion had left him. But, he noted, he did feel better and the nausea had subsided.

The urge to eat suddenly struck him and he blinked up at the nurse.

‘What time is it?’ he rasped, voice rusty from disuse.

‘You hungry?’ asked the nurse with a grin.

‘Yeah, I could eat,’ he answered, wriggling a little to get more comfortable in the pillows under his head.

‘I can get you something, but it’s after breakfast and not quite lunch.’

Syverson nodded. He didn’t care. He just wanted to eat.

‘Fries and a coke, then,’ he said closing his eyes and grinning a little.

The nurse laughed and gently patted his shoulder condescendingly. With the state of Syverson’s gut, there was no way he was going to survive ingesting any amount of carbonation. That little fact didn’t stop the cravings though.

‘I’ll see if there’s some soup still left. I think it’s chicken.’

When he was alone again, the memories came back. After the jeep explosion, he was sure that he was going to die out in that sandy wasteland. Had it not been for you, he was sure that he would have died. Had it not been for the beautiful, plucky reporter, some stony faced military man would be paying his parents a visit to inform them of their youngest son’s passing and that his body would be flown home for burial.

Instead, he had been saved. And when he found that you’d been housed in the civilian wing of the hospital, he wanted to see you. He wanted to thank you for saving his life. When visiting you was denied, considering the fragile state of the both of you, Syverson had instructed that the well stocked gift shop be bought out and carted to your room, all with his heartfelt thanks.

He owed you his life. A few flowers and a couple of teddy bears was the least he could do.

The plastic and faux wood table rattled next to him and snapped Syverson out of his muse. He opened his eyes and watched as the nurse positioned the table over his bed and put down a ceramic bowl of steaming soup. He groaned and strained a little to help himself up into a sitting position.

The nurse was distracted and looking down into his other hand.

‘I ran into your girlfriend’s nurse in the hallway and she gave me this to give to you.’

God, he sounded so smug and Syverson wanted to punch him square in the face.

Girlfriend?

His brain searched for a face to put to the name but came up empty. He’d broken up with his ex more than five years ago, right before his latest deployment. And then it clicked.

The reporter. You.

The nurse handed the card to Syverson and upon seeing it, his heart sank. It was the same envelope that he’d sent along with the gifts. Had you refused his outpouring of affection? He slowly opened the envelope and breathed out with relief when he saw the new message that had been written for him.

He didn’t want to smile at the note in front of the gossipy nurse, as he didn’t want to encourage any nonsense rumours, so he kept his elated reaction to himself. But inside his heart soared and the soup tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten before.

The day that you both championed and dreaded finally arrived. The day you could get out of bed on your own and walk down to the men’s wing to pay your captain a visit. He had come a long way, you’d heard from the nurse, but would still have trouble doing any taxing travelling. However you were well enough to make the trip.

‘That is, if you still want to,’ said your nurse with a glint in her eye.

Oh, she thinks she’s funny, does she?

You sighed luxuriously and stretched back on your pillows. You’d managed to wrangle an extra set so that you could prop yourself up like a royal lady taking in visitors for the afternoon. You ran the edge of your thumbnail across the thick scar skirting the side of your left palm, scratching it lightly but thoroughly. You had recently had your bandages removed and the sight of your hands was shocking. The backs of your hands had taken the brunt of the burns and they were wrinkled with scar tissue which butted up against new skin growth. A daily cream was a must to keep the tissue from tightening up and preventing normal usage of your hand. You scooped up a handful of the waxy smelling stuff and massaged it into your hands as your nurse watched you expectantly.

Her expression fell a bit when you didn’t answer right away.

Serves her right, you thought, casually kneading fingertips into the palm of your opposite hand.

‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’ve changed your mind.’

She picked at a bright yellow rose bud that had fallen off of one of the new crops of flower bouquets. Henry had made sure to keep you flush with fresh beautiful flowers. You had to draw the line at the character balloons, and had to tell him that he should stop sending them because the hollow sounds of them knocking together at night was creepy and it kept you awake.

‘I haven’t changed my mind, Barb,’ you said and gave her a smile.

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to see him again.

‘Well, good. He’s been asking after you… like… constantly now.’

You said nothing, but a tiny grin stretched your lips.

Constantly?

‘We can whip out the chair and wheel you over there after lunch.’

Your heart leaped with sudden and visceral terror.

It’s soon. So soon. Too soon! Today?

You swallowed hard and felt your face heat with uncertain embarrassment.

‘S-sure.’

‘Ok, I’ll reserve one and be back in a few hours.’

Barb turned around and left the room. You could hear her chuckling as if this matchmaking was the best thing that had happened to her all year.

You sat up in bed, greasy hands limp in your lap and you made a face when you sniffed at yourself under your hospital gown. No way were you going to present yourself to Henry, or anyone else who would be in the day room, looking like you’d been in an accident.

Heaven forfend.

So, you washed carefully and put on the pale peach coloured long-sleeved pyjama set you’d received from the Ladies’ Supply. The Ladies’ Supply was an organisation of volunteer women who ensured the dignity and comfort of women at the military hospital through social visits, clothing donations and other feminine needs.

You did your hair the best you could and whiled away the hours until you heard the squeaky wheelchair being rolled into your room. With heart crashing excitedly against your ribs, you perched delicately on it and Barb rolled you away.

The day room was spacious and welcoming and abuzz with activity. Some of the men were still hooked to IVs and sitting by the wide windows and others who were more capable were dispersed amongst the tables either reading or playing cards or just talking with each other. There were also some women in there, so you didn’t feel like you were entering the lion’s den. You spotted Henry by one of the card tables and you wanted to put your feet down on the floor to stop Barb from rolling you right up to his side. Unfortunately, you didn’t do it in time and when you squeaked to an unceremonious halt at the edge of the table, he glanced up from his cards.

The look on his face when he recognised you was one that you would store in your memory for an eternity. He put the cards face down on the table and made to stand up. You immediately put up your hands to stop him.

‘No, no, don’t get up, you don’t–‘

But, he had already struggled to push himself up and out of the chair and you didn’t want to take that victory from him. You stood up as well, ready to give a firm friendly handshake, or a paltry pat on the shoulder but he had other intentions. He dragged you into his arms, and crushed you to his meaty chest, before you could manage to say, hello.

When he finally let you go, you both went back to your respective seats, feeling overwhelmed by the perfect greeting.

Grinning at him, you made a gesture to your own head.

‘Your hair… it’s all curly!’

The last time you’d seen him, his hair was shorn right to the head, and there was really no hint as to the texture or really even the true colour. So it surprised you to see a neatly clipped mop of glossy brown curls. Henry put a self conscious hand into his hair and ruffled his fingers through it.

‘I like it,’ you assured him, hoping to put him at ease. ‘I like it a lot.’

Grabby hair, your brain chittered. Perfect length for grabbing.

With that the two men who had been playing cards with him at the table, picked up and left, taking the not so subtle hint that they should leave the two of you alone.

‘I’m glad to see you. Finally,’ he said, wincing a little when he shifted in the chair.

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, reaching out to put your hands over his on the table.

‘I’m getting over it,’ he said, dodging the question effortlessly.

He turned his hands up to hold onto yours and you felt as shy as a virgin on a first date. So, what could you do but make a joke the break the tension.

‘I mean… if I had to get blown up to get a date with you in a hospital day room, don’t know if I would do it again. Ehh, I probably would.’

Your eyes swept up to his and he stared at you a moment, puzzled and when you gave him a little hesitant smile, Henry started to laugh. The sound it lit you up with happiness and then the awkwardness was broken.

You spent about an hour chatting and if you were honest, most of it was spent flirting, until you started to feel tired.

You didn’t want to overstay your welcome and he seemed disappointed (much to your juvenile delight) when you said that you were leaving.

‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, big blue eyes bright and eager, his hands unwilling to let you go again.

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

-End part 4

#henry cavill #captain syversion #syverson x you #henry cavill x you #captain syverson x you #syverson the protector #reader insert

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mind-of-a-hardstan · 4 years

Text

Take Flight

Pairing: Golden Eagle ! Seokjin x Human ! Reader

Genre: hybrid au, getting together

Rating: M

Warnings: language, kissing, making out, a bit of dry humping.

Summary: Seokjin had caught your fancy the moment you’d met him. He’d seemed so intimidating at first with those wide shoulders, that gorgeous face and, heaven have mercy, those towering wings. But, not long after meeting him, still too shy to properly look him in the eye, he’d eyed your burger and cracked a dad joke about it, and that’s when you’d started to fall.

Word count: 5.2K

A/N: This is part of the Hybrid Collab hosted by @jeonggukiepabo! The masterlist will be updated during the week, check out the other works y'all!

First date

You eyed the clock, seconds ticking by slower than they should. You were jittery, nervous, but there were still a few minutes left. You consciously chewed on your thumbnail.

Seokjin had caught your fancy the moment you’d met him. He’d seemed so intimidating at first with those wide shoulders, that gorgeous face and, heaven have mercy, those towering wings. But, not long after meeting him, still too shy to properly look him in the eye, he’d eyed your burger and cracked a dad joke about it, and that’s when you’d started to fall.

Seokjin had been new in town and worked with Jooheon, and then he just seamlessly snuck into your friend group. It had been fine. You’d pined after him for a bit, but didn’t say a thing. Why would this gorgeous eagle hybrid want you anyway, right?

The doorbell rang and you nearly jumped at how fast you were ripped from your thoughts. You were still fixated on the clock, he was two minutes early. You allowed yourself one glance in the mirror. Hair: perfectly styled. Make up: as good as it got. Clothing: perfect.

You opened the door, looked up, and the smile that spread on your face came so naturally that you didn’t even notice.

“Hi,” you squeaked. You couldn’t see Seokjin’s face, but his wings were tucked in tightly and he was impeccably dressed. Covering his face was a bouquet of flowers that put all the others to shame. Seokjin tilted his head to the side, finally allowing you to see the tiny, adorable, nervous little smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he said.

“Are those for me?” you gestured to the flowers, giddy, and Seokjin nodded, holding them out to you. You took them from him, unconsciously standing on your tiptoes. A smile spread on your face, shy and happy. “They’re so pretty, where’d you get them? Come in.”

You stepped inside and Seokjin followed, moving his wings back to fit through the door. It wasn’t the first time that Seokjin was in your house, and hopefully it wouldn’t be the last. There was a tension in the room though. This time felt different. It was different. You headed for the kitchen and started opening cabinets, searching for a vase.

“There’s this little flower shop near the cemetery that sells nice flowers,” Seokjin said and closed the front door behind him. You looked back at him as you put the found vase on the counter, “The owner, grows it all herself. This tiny harmless looking lioness hybrid. I thought she was a bobcat at first, to be honest.”

“That’s amazing. I didn’t know all these flowers grew at the same time.”

“They probably don’t, I suspect she’s into some sort of dark magic, I swear you’d think the same if you saw her garden. I asked her and she just denied it,” Seokjin’s smile turned sly, “she was probably lion.”

You snorted despite yourself, and just like that, the tension was broken. Seokjin wore a pleased smile, wings fluttering slightly, when you giggled.

You constantly had to draw your attention away from those wings. You couldn’t help but stare at them sometimes. They were so big, looked so heavy, but that was probably why Seokjin had such big shoulders. They were a beautiful shade of brown, feathers of all size. And when they moved, god, they dripped with power.

You kept wondering if Seokjin could fly. There were plenty of winged hybrids who couldn’t fly, but looking at how strong those wings were, you couldn’t help but wonder. Still, though, you never allowed yourself to stare for too long. Sometimes hybrids thought it to be impolite, which was understandable.

You busied yourself with the flowers, turning it this way and that, looking for a place to put it where it would keep longer. Somewhere cool, you suspected.

“Don’t tell her I said that,” Seokjin went on, “it might hurt her pride.” You giggled again, despite yourself.

“Stop, let’s go before I throw myself out of the window.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door with you. He laughed but stopped before you could pull him too far.

Seokjin pulled you closer by the hand you gabbed him with, gently caressed your arm. He looked you up and down and warmth crept up to your cheeks, butterflies raved in your stomach. The fondness in Seokjin’s eyes as he took in your appearance made you want to disappear, but you also never wanted him to stop looking at you ever again.

“You look gorgeous,” Seokjin said, voice just as velvety as the moment felt, eyes just as soft. His wings were tucked tight behind him, but they flared just a bit before he spoke next. “Seeing you makes me so happy.”

You melted, and he noticed because his smile turned just a bit cuter. Seokjin never spoke like this, was never this open about his feelings toward you before, despite being friends. You were used to him becoming shy when the topic turned to you, and his ears were red now too, but you loved how he could just say it now.

You expected him to kiss you then, but to your disappointment, Seokjin pulled away.

“Come on, we have a date to get to,” he said, seeming just as giddy as you felt. You needed a second though, because almost being kissed by Kim Seokjin was a big deal in your book.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “A date.”

Your one condition (if you could even call it that) for going on a date with Seokjin was that you do nothing fancy. Seokjin was rather well off as a news anchor, but you didn’t want him to go over the top for you.

Instead, you slowly walked to a little coffee shop near your place. It was a place that neither of you knew well, but you’d wanted to try it for a while now.

You didn’t talk too much on the way, mainly commented to random things like a cute dog or a nice flower. Words flowed normally, though. You weren’t quite as nervous anymore, not as much as you were before Seokjin came over. He made you feel so comfy.

The coffee shop had such a story book aesthetic that you almost laughed at the neon sign. Seokjin smiled too and let you go inside first, putting his hand on the small of your back. You barely held back a shiver, didn’t notice the little bell at the door.

The girl at the counter greeted you with a warm smile as she took your orders. ‘Yura,’ her name tag said. She looked like a Yura. The girl seemed to have the same problem you did when it came to Seokjin’s wings, she wanted to look, but kept having to catch herself.

“If you order two muffins, with that, you get one free,” Yura said kindly and gestured to the specials board. Seokjin nodded.

“Sure,” he said and turned to you, “If you don’t want one I’ll just take both.”

You giggled but shook your head. “No way am I giving you my muffin, I’ll have blueberry.”

After gathering your order, getting to your seats proved a bit… difficult. Seokjin wasn’t a small man, and he had big wings, and the shop itself was rather small and tightly packed. It wasn’t exactly ideal for all hybrids, especially a nervous Seokjin.

You aimed for a window seat and put your stuff down. When you looked up, you found Seokjin stuck at a table, a few feathers fluttering down, a rather irritated patron next to him and a pastry laying on the floor.

“I’m so sorry, sir, let me replace that,” Seokjin quickly apologised, already bending down to pick up his lost feathers and the fallen pastry. He nearly cleared another table in doing so.

“Here, I’ll go,” you said and headed to the counter again. Seokjin just smiled, ears red.

By the time you finally did sit down, this time outside after Seokjin threw a plant over, he just rested his head on the table and groaned.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” you asked, couldn’t keep the fond smile off of your face nor out of your voice.

“That… catastrophe.” He sat upright again, a little pattern on his forehead from the wooden table. You didn’t mention it. “I’m usually better coordinated, I swear.”

“Is your wing alright?” you asked gently.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said and spread left wing a little, now having space to do so. On the inside was a red spot, feathers stained dark with blood. The wound wasn’t big, but Seokjin winced slightly. “Just lost some feathers, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? That doesn’t look too good…” you worried, selfishly took the opportunity to get a good look at his wing. The feathers were arranged so beautifully. The colour was so pretty, a deep, warm brown. You were sure he could fly. Still, though, you were worried.

“Yeah, it’s not the first time, it’ll heal faster the less I tamper.” Seokjin sat straighter, relaxed his wings. He smiled at you, sipped his drink. You did the same, suddenly unsure of what to say. You were on a date. What do you talk about on a date? You already knew a fair deal about him, you’d talked to him plenty of times. The getting to know each other part was over, wasn’t it? Do you kiss, perhaps? Was that the difference?

“What are you thinking?” Seokjin asked, pulling you back to the present. You realised you’d zoned out with your eyes fixed on his lips. Not exactly an innocent place to stare, but god, those were some pretty lips…

“Uh,” you averted your gaze, looked at a tree, gathered your thoughts, and then finally looked back at Seokjin, this time with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m thinking that I suddenly don’t know what to say now that this is a date.”

He smiled too, seeming giddy again at the fact that this really was a date. “I think we just talk normally,” he said softly, “the only difference is that I’m allowed to call you beautiful, and you can tell me I’m handsome, and I can hold your hand if you want, and that we don’t really have to hold back, and that’s okay.”

You giggled, eyed him slyly. “Who says I think you’re handsome in the first place?”

“Because it’s a universal truth,” Seokjin said and you could tell that the confidence was only somewhat real because his ears were so red and his wings were a lot less relaxed. You giggled, he was so endearing. “Besides, am I wrong?”

Seokjin looked at you expectantly, leaned his head on his hand. You surveyed him, pretended to assess him but really you were just taking the opportunity to look your fill. He had such nice eyes, such good cheekbones, such a sharp jawline, such gorgeous fucking Bratz doll lips.

You wanted to kiss him. The thought came so suddenly and with such a dizzying force that you damn near toppled over. You swallowed, sat up straight, nodded.

“Yeah,” you smirked, “I guess I could see it.”

“Knew it,” Seokjin shook his head, “I’m the world wide handsome after all.”

You laughed, sipped your drink and all thoughts of this being some important date flew out of your head. It was just Seokjin. The beautiful local news anchor who somehow made teenager suddenly very interested in the goings on of the world, but still just the dork who you’ve pined after and flirted with these past few weeks.

“You are,” you said lightly, but still didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s wings fluttered happily at the comment

To call it a good date would be a crime. This was definitely in the top ten of the best dates in the history of dating.

You stared at your ceiling, still dressed up, face still full of makeup and hair still looking good. The date was perfect. Seokjin was – is – perfect. After the coffee shop, he’d stared at you and told you that he didn’t want it to end, so you went for a walk in the park. And then he bought you ice cream and then you’d sat at a park bench until the sun had set.

It was romantic, Seokjin was funny and you felt so comfortable. You felt so good. The only thing, the only reason why this date landed in the top ten instead of first was because of one simple little thing.

Seokjin didn’t kiss you.

It bothered you, only a little. Because he seemed like he’d wanted to. At your place, in the café, on that bench when the sun set. It seemed like he’d wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t, and you couldn’t figure out why.

Still though, you were so happy, Seokjin made you so happy.

You giggled to yourself, bit your lip, allowed yourself to squeal. And then got up to wash your face. You did not need your skin breaking out right now.

First kiss

“Your dad jokes are awful,” you said, but you couldn’t keep the giggle out of your voice. Seokjin walked next to you, goofy smile on his face.

“My dad jokes are best thing that’s ever happened to the world.”

“No, they’re not,” you deadpanned. Seokjin took one surprised look at you, wings flaring, and then burst out laughing. The window-cleaning sound made you start laughing too. Soon, you were just two idiots laughing on a sidewalk past ten at night.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Seokjin eventually said and laid his hand on the small of your back. The action was really something that you just could not get used to. It made you want to melt, it made you want to never leave his side.

It didn’t take long until you got to your front door. Seokjin stopped and you faced him. It scared you sometimes, how absolutely beautiful he was. It made you wonder if you should even be on a third date with someone as far out of your league as Seokjin was.

But the way he was looking at you now, it captivated you even more. Seokjin looked at you like you meant something to him. And he looked happy, his eyes looked tender. And he was looking at you.

“Seokjin,” you said softly.

“Hmm,” he hummed back, eyes smiling.

“Kiss me.”

Seokjin smiled brightly, his wings flared completely before he leaned in and kissed you. And god was it worth the wait.

Seokjin’s lips were pillowy soft, so soft that it literally made you gasp. You kissed back, leaned closer. Seokjin’s hand found your lower back and he pressed you against him, other hand at the back of your head and it felt so good, his hands were so big, his lips were so soft.

You buried your hand in his hair and Seokjin let out a tiny gasp. You got a hint of wet, and you immediately wanted more. With a small pull on Seokjin’s hair, you softly licked across his lips. You felt him smile against your mouth, you only noticed then that you were smiling too.

Then he deepened the kiss and your breath just whooshed out of your lungs. You gasped, Seokjin leaned even closer, moved his thumb to your cheek and kissed you so properly that you forgot every other kiss you’d ever gotten.

When he pulled away what could have been minutes or hours later, you blearily looked up at him, and he stared right back with wide, bright yellow eyes. It surprised you, it left you in awe just as much as the kiss did. Seokjin’s eagle eyes.

“Wow,” he whispered, which made you snap out of your haze and giggle. It was then that you’d realised that Seokjin’s wings had wrapped around you like a little cocoon. You stared in awe, but Seokjin slowly moved them back to their normal position.

“Sorry.” His ears were red and you smiled warmly.

“No, it’s cute.” Seokjin’s entire face flared red and you had to giggle. “Do you want to come in?”

Seokjin seemed surprised at the offer. You’d really just meant for a coffee or a glass of wine, and you only realised afterward that it sounded rather… well, not like coffee. Your face flared up at the thought, but you honestly would not have anything against that, either.

Seokjin shook his head, however. “Thank you, darling, but no, I really need to get home.” His voice was soft and there was a smile on his face.

Darling!

You tried to not look disappointed. Before you let him go, however, you gave him one last quick kiss. This time it made you more giddy than anything else. Seokjin seemed to share the sentiment.

When he left, you could have sworn there was a bit more of a skip in his step.

First touch

“You should let me cook for you again some time,” Seokjin said as you handed him a glass of wine. You smiled at the idea. He was an amazing cook, though a busy one. He did the evening news which didn’t leave much time for dinners. You usually did coffees.

“I’d love that, actually,” you said and plopped down next to him. It had only been after you’d invited him inside the first time that you’d realised you didn’t have a wing-friendly couch. Or… well your apartment wasn’t exactly furnished to accompany someone with enormous, beautiful eagle wings.

There was an order on its way though.

His wings looked awkward on the couch, somehow sprawled out but pulled in. He insisted that it was okay though, and that the couch was the best place to sit.

“So would I.” Seokjin smiled warmly and you reached out and took his hand. It still surprised you that you were allowed to show affection like this. You really had pined hopelessly at first.

You leaned in to kiss him, and then he jerked away. You didn’t realise why until you looked down and felt the wetness on your own leg; you’d spilt wine all over both of you.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry!” you quickly put your glass on the table and ran to get a cloth. Seokjin was standing in seconds, too, checking your couch. You were more worried about him. His clothes were stained, and his wing too. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get the stains out, I swear. Or like, replace your clothes or something,” you called from the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing to whine about, darling,” Seokjin called back and you giggled so hard you barely saw anything on your way back to the living room. The term of endearment also never ceased to make you feel giggly.

“Here,” you said and started to wipe away what you could on his thigh and his stomach. Seokjin silently let you, though his ears were red. When it came to the next stain, the one on his awkwardly angled wing, you hesitated and looked up for the okay.

You had avoided the topic of Seokjin’s wings for a while now, not knowing if it was impolite to ask, to touch. So you’d just said nothing and waited for him to bring it up.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” Seokjin said and held his hand out for the cloth. You hesitated again, looked down. You wanted to, though. You handed him the cloth anyway, and Seokjin softly tried to rub out the stain.

“Will it… does it stain?” you asked.

“Nah,” he said, “I can wash it out with soap.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. Seokjin shook his head.

“Seriously, don’t worry. They’re durable.”

“They look strong,” you said, a bit dreamily, a bit daring. Seokjin stopped and put the cloth down, now probably forever stained with wine. He sat back, you had a feeling he was spreading his wings out more than before, and looked at you. You couldn’t guess what was going on in his head, but it was definitely something.

“They are,” he simply said. You nodded. You wanted to ask more but you were too nervous, too scared of offending him. You weren’t sure about the protocol. Seokjin gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted your gaze back to his. Those pretty, kind eyes. “You can ask me, Y/n. Ask me anything.”

You swallowed. How did you get so lucky?

“Can you fly?” you asked, you’d been wondering about it ever since you’d met him. Seokjin laughed like he’d expected the question.

“Yes,” he said. Your eyes went wide. That was so cool!

“Wow, really?” Seokjin nodded.

“How?”

“I don’t know, I just wing it.” The way he delivered the joke with a straight face made you chuckle again. You somehow couldn’t get enough of these jokes, no matter how lame they were.

“You should show me sometime. If you – if you want to. I don’t know, whatever.” You shook your head to clear it and ignored Seokjin’s amused expression. “Do you shed feathers like I shed hair?”

Seokjin laughed loudly at the question but answered nonetheless. “Yes.”

You giggled too, and allowed yourself to look at Seokjin’s beautiful, brown wings. They really looked powerful enough to fly. You wondered if he could carry someone, but decided not to ask that just yet. You wanted to touch them. You really wanted to touch them…

“Can I…” you stopped and bit your lip. Seokjin raised an eyebrow expectantly, but still friendly and open. You dared. “Can I touch?’

Seokjin smiled but rubbed the back of his neck nervously and you immediately regretted asking. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Just as you were about to apologize, Seokjin spoke, “You can touch them,” he said, a bit bashful, a bit shy, “but they’re sensitive.”

“You don’t have to let me, you know?”

“That’s… that’s not it. I want you to, I wouldn’t mind, like, at all, but.” Seokjin stopped, averted his gaze, swallowed. “They’re very, very sensitive, depending on where or how you touch. It’s like when I touch the inside of your thighs,” Seokjin’s eyes drifted to your legs and he looked like – he looked like he wanted to. Just the thought of it made you want to melt. Or jump him. Oh god. “Or – or when I kiss behind your ear. Or run my fingers down your spine.” You swallowed and Seokjin’s gaze, the way he just looked at the places he was talking about like he wanted to. He looked away, ears slightly red. “Yeah, it’s hard to explain. Touching my wings would be like kissing my neck or touching my thighs. I don’t mind, but it’s up to you if you want to.”

Boy, did you want to. You swallowed. You really, really wanted to, but touching his wings would inevitably lead to other things, and he just made clear that he was okay with that. You were okay with that too. You were definitely so okay with that.

But saying it, outright saying it, made you just a tad bit nervous. You looked down and said again, “Can I touch your wings, then?”

The fact that Seokjin, confident, worldwide handsome Seokjin, let out a shaky breath because of a single sentence erased any doubts you had. “Yeah,” Seokjin said and then added, rather unexpectedly, “please.”

You let out a shaky breath yourself and moved closer. Seokjin’s eyes seemed to slightly change back to that yellow colour, but you weren’t sure. You focused back on his wings, though.

Gently, softly, you reached out and lay your hand on the outside of Seokjin’s wing, stroking softly. The muscle shifted under your hand and Seokjin shivered. It was soft, though. His feathers felt soft and unlike something you’d felt before.

“Wow,” you said, “they’re so soft.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin just breathed out. You looked back at him and his jaw seemed a bit tense.

“What…” you swallowed, but dared, “what happens when I touch here?” You stroked your fingers over the inside of Seokjin’s wing this time and he gasped.

“That’s where it gets very sensitive,” he said, voice tight.

“And when I move in?” you moved your hand closer and closer to his back, where the feathers got softer and Seokjin shivered.

“Then I’m gonna get hard.” Seokjin said it fast like he needed to get the words out, like he was nervous but wanted to be honest.

“And here?” you were nervous too, but the want to play a bit, to touch Seokjin and to rile him up was stronger than nerves. You traced your finger over the spot where Seokjin’s wings met his back and he honest to god moaned.

It made something hot stir in your stomach, something primal and beyond logic. Seokjin moaned, and you wanted him to do it again. You kept your touches light and watched, trying to see what made him feel the best.

Seokjin’s back was arched, it looked like guilty pleasure was painted over his features. His wings were spread wide now, flared out in your living room completely and it was only then that you could truly appreciate how big they were.

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful,” you said and Seokjin opened his eyes, a bit hooded, completely yellow.

“Y/n,” he said, voice breathy, “What do you want with me?”

The way he said it, the way he offered himself to you on a silver platter. God, you fell. You just fell.

“Kiss me?” you suggested, and Seokjin did just that. He pulled you onto his lap and kissed you so thoroughly that all breath left your body. Any rhyme or reason to your brain just flowed right out. Seokjin kissed like he meant it. Seokjin kissed like he loved you.

You pushed that thought right out of your head. It was too early. Instead, you focused on Seokjin’s pillow soft lips, and god, he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You mewled softly and he drank it up. It seemed to spur Seokjin on, he pulled you closer, kissed you deeper. You were dizzy, head fuzzy, body hot.

You trailed a finger down the inside of Seokjin’s wing again, the other one this time, and he groaned into your mouth before pulling away. He looked at you for a moment before closing his eyes, just enjoying.

“Feels good,” he breathed out, kissed you again.

“Yeah?” you asked, touching both wings now. Seokjin bucked up reflectively and for the first time you felt something hard against your leg. You gently trailed your lips down his neck.

“Yeah. Love when you touch me.”

“Can I touch you there?” you asked carefully, looking down at Seokjin’s lap. He was undoubtedly very hard in his pants right now, you were surprised at how fast this turned him on. Seokjin made a little noise in the back of his throat but nodded anyway.

“Please.”

You lay your hand on his hard on, just put the tiniest amount of pressure there to get a reaction. Seokjin moaned, satisfied but needing more.

Your panties were slowly being ruined.

You palmed him a bit through his boxers and Seokjin wasn’t afraid of being vocal. “Come here,” he after only a few moments. He grabbed your wrists and pulled you closer to kiss you again, this time with heat instead of tenderness. Messy instead of careful.

After a few more drawn out kisses you were so out of breath that you gasped for air. Seokjin moved away to let you breathe but it didn’t help. He trailed his beautiful lips from your jaw to your shoulder and then worked the spot under your ear until it almost stung. You were gasping, those sinful, goddamn lips.

You shifted on his lap, squirming due to the intensity. Seokjin let out tiny sounds into your neck and you thought it came from the pleasure of devouring your neck until you shifted just right. You’d been squirming on his dick, and it was now perfectly positioned to put pressure on your clit.

“Seokjin,” you moaned and he shivered.

“You sound pretty,” he said, rocked you a little onto his cock. “This still good? You still good, darling?”

Darling, fuck. You shivered. He’d called you that a few times now, but never like that.

“Yeah, yes, Seokjin – Jin,” you just let the words flow, knew that it didn’t matter if you were vocal and talkative, Seokjin thought you sounded pretty.

“Jin?” Seokjin mused, “I like that.”

You rocked your hips onto his, let yourself get lost in the movement, in the noises Seokjin was making. His wings were completely flared out now, back arched to give them a bit of space to move.

You trailed your finger over the place where feather met skin once more, and Seokjin jerked.

“Jin,” you asked, sending a shiver through him, making his feathers ruffle, “take me to the bedroom?”

“Yeah?” he checked.

“Yeah. Please.”

Seokjin kissed you deeply, less frantic, slower. It was comforting, safe and it made a warmth bloom in your chest that burned all the way to your tippy toes.

“Of course, darling.”

“You know,” Seokjin whispered, running his fingers up and down your naked shoulder, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You giggled and shifted closer, enjoying the feel of his feathers against your skin. Wings, you were learning, were practical in a bed. He’d slung his over the lower half of your body and the warmth it brought was amazing.

“Me too.”

“I’m glad we did it now, though. Now was perfect.”

“Definitely.” You pecked him on the lips, too tired for a real kiss. Your body was sore, your mind was hazy and happy and you were so very warm. It wouldn’t take long for you to pass out.

“I’m going to take you flying one day,” Seokjin whispered after a while. You were somewhere on the edges between conscious and unconscious, and you just hummed in response, not really taking anything in. “One day, when you say yes to me, I’m going to fly with you.”

“Can’t wait,” you mumbled back. And then you were gone.

First flight

Seokjin’s arms around you were tight and secure, and you’ve never felt safer in your life, despite being way high in the sky, despite the thin air and the cold wind.

“You good, darling?” he asked in your ear, beat his powerful wings once before settling into a glide. You swallowed heavily. Yes, you were good. You were great, you were happy, you were peaceful and safe and happy with watching the sunrise like this.

“I love you,” you said lowly.

“What?” Seokjin spoke loudly over the wind.

“I love you, Kim Seokjin!” you laughed loudly this time, you almost thought the tiny people way down on the ground could hear you. You knew they couldn’t, though, and you liked it that way.

Seokjin’s arms tightened around you and it almost hurt, but it didn’t. It just felt so good. You were soaring so high in the sky, and Seokjin buried his head in your neck and said.

“I love you, too.”

#bangtanhq #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #seokjin #jin #jin fanfiction #jin fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan

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mvnvgedmischief · 3 years

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster.

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings.

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky, no one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place.

He didn’t have time to think about the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to put all of that out of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time.

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack.

“Sirius–”

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection.

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.”

“Remus was saying that some of the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked.

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?”

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he needed to start acting like it.

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground.

“Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–”

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded.

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future. We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.”

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned.

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation.

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite. Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time.

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can.

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change.

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.”

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus.

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad.

“No, I would suggest you start over.”

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior.

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

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