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ripley95 · 3 years

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Self-positivity ask! Show off some of your favorite bits of writing. It can be from a WIP or a published work, but go ahead an show off and be proud of your amazing work!

Thank you so much for this awesome ask whoever you are!! It means so much to me that you’re interested and thought of me. I’ve chosen a few passages all from already published works, some are under the read more including a long passage:

From A Cursed Blessing - Synthesis ending one-shot, F!Shenko:

He sees the husks helping rebuild in droves. Once grotesque reanimations of humans, asari and turians with the sole purpose to harvest are now breathing and civilized and have lives of their own. They are no longer hordes meant to kill. They're functional and cooperative. He laments at the thought that his father could be among them. He doesn't know what to make of them, and he can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.

...

He turns in the middle of the night and moves his arm to envelope a body that isn't there. His fingers brush the empty pillow. He opens his eyes to see his arm, covered in green. He feels tears begin to form. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his fingers gently against his eyelids, and still sees green. Everything's green. He curses it and wants to scream. Just one night, he doesn't want the reminder. He clings the empty pillow tightly to his chest and imagines how he used to brush her hair out of her face as she slept. He remembers that this green sheen was because of her. The thought of it quiets his breath. He trusts in her decision. It was an end to the war, even if it wasn't how they'd planned it. He still doesn't know what happened up there, but he knows he would have done anything to stop the war. He knows he may very well have done the exact same thing as Shepard had their positions been reversed. It's a small comfort. He reminds himself that they'd won, and the war is over, and that's all that should matter. He willfully reaffirms that this is a blessing as much as it feels like a curse. He bunches the pillow up closer to his face and is saddened that it no longer smells like her. It hasn't for quite some time now. Eventually, he finds fitful sleep.

From This Ratty Old Thing - Post Alchera, Hannah Shepard grieving the death of her daughter:

She looked back to the screen then, any trace of mirth entirely gone. “Sometimes I wonder if we pushed you into this life. It was never my intention. As much as I’ve appreciated my time in the Alliance, I always felt like it was my only option. I never wanted that for you. I can’t deny that you’ve done well with it, but sometimes I wish I pushed you harder to consider other things. We never really talked about our careers much, but were you happy? Did you like it?” She cut herself off rather abruptly after that, realising she would never get a response.

Her gaze shifted back to the stuffed dog. Any semblance of happy memories was exchanged for something resembling disdain. “They never even found your body. How is someone supposed to grieve with no proof of death? I don’t even have any ashes. No dog tags. Nothing!” She was visibly upset now, still not looking at the screen. She waited until she calmed down slightly before continuing. “Nothing but this ratty old thing.”

She gave the toy one last glance as she brushed her thumb over the dog’s face, and set it down on the desk. She didn’t even bother looking back at the screen as she stood up, her finger hovering over the power button to her terminal.

“This was a mistake.”

She pushed the power button, and the room returned to blackness.

From Echoes of Old Embers - Post-War, accidental/fake dating, F!Shenko (this one’s long) Honestly, I think this has become my favourite story of mine, and it probably has most of my favourite passages in it, but only chose one to share:

Maisie walked up to them, moving to the beat as she made her way from the dance floor.

“What, you guys aren’t going to dance?” She asked with a beaming grin on her face.

Even if this was an ideal situation and she and Kaidan were somehow together, she would have had a good excuse for getting out of this one. She may as well have been a ballerina on the battlefield, but she had absolutely no rhythm when it came to dancing. Unless she wanted to make a mockery of herself, she wasn’t about to go out there. It was one thing in privacy with her crew. Under normal circumstances, she might not even mind letting loose here, but it would have been one more thing to draw attention to her. For the most part, Libby’s already had her magical night, but she still hated the potential to steal it from her and opted to want to stay on the sidelines.

“I’m afraid I’m a horrible dancer,” Shepard said.

“What?” Maisie asked incredulously, stopping dead in her tracks. “You can’t be serious. You?”

“Oh, she’s telling the truth all right,” Kaidan said from beside her with a snort.

“Hey! You’re one to talk. I seem to remember you making finger guns at that party in my apartment,” she said with a big grin on her face.

“Hey, now, this conversation isn’t about me. Maisie’s already well aware of my dancing abilities.”

“Uh-huh,” Shepard said with a smile that she couldn’t help thinking would wane the moment that Maisie left them alone again.

“It’s true, I know he’s got no game on the dance floor. You, on the other hand, are not allowed to say that without a show,” she said, all but ready to drag Shepard into the middle of the crowd when Shepard pulled back.

“Maisie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to draw attention to myself,” Shepard tried to say in a lowered voice.

Maisie huffed out a laugh at her. “Well, if that’s your goal, maybe you should reconsider. Have you taken a good look at that crowd?” she asked, turning to look at everyone dancing. “Everyone’s making a fool of themselves. Only ‘Commander Shepard’ would have a complex about this. If you ask me, I think standing on the sidelines is probably drawing more attention to you than however bad your dancing must be.”

Shepard looked out into the crowd. Sure enough, it was full of people just letting loose. No one cared about how they looked, though she still thought her skills were subpar to everyone out there. At the same time, she probably wasn’t bad enough to draw attention away from everyone else who was just out there having fun.

Shepard turned to Kaidan then, “Shit. She has a point, doesn’t she?”

“I’m afraid she might,” Kaidan said with a smirk.

“Yes! You know I’m always right,” Maisie said with a smile.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Kaidan said, holding his hand out to Jane. “Shall we?”

“Can’t wait to see this,” Maisie said with a smirk.

Maisie took their glasses and Kaidan gave her the tiniest of glares before he and Shepard made their way out onto the dance floor.

“So, do you have a buzz going yet?” Kaidan asked.

Shepard looked at him, slightly amused. “A bit,” she answered.

“Good, because I think it’ll at least help us not be so self-conscious out here,” he said with a smile as he started dancing.

Maybe it was because she was teasing him about it moments before, but it seemed like he would be leaving his finger guns holstered for the evening. His rhythm was almost as bad as hers. In fact, it was as bad as hers. It brought back memories of them dancing in that casino on the Citadel when they were trying to figure out who stole her identity. Before they even knew she had a clone. They had the exact same dance style then too… And somehow she was always the one that got flack about it from the crew. It made her wonder how security at the casino never thought they were suspicious, because who would want to be seen dancing like that out in public? Shepard had to laugh at the memory of it.

“What?” he said, in mock offense as he stopped dancing immediately, thanks to her outburst. “You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, grabbing his arms to get him to start bopping them again. “It’s just that, I’d say we’re two peas in a pod or something.”

She started mimicking his moves. Not that she was trying to match him or anything, but more because she legitimately didn’t know any other way to dance. She never knew what to do with her arms. Or her legs for that matter... or where to look. Practically nothing came naturally to her about dancing, but then again, she rarely ever had a partner. Today, she had Kaidan as a distraction and it was easier to let go of the insecurities, already knowing that she looked ridiculous, because he looked ridiculous too. They looked into each other’s eyes. It made both of them laugh some more as they kept dancing.

She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the dancing, but the night’s tension finally started to feel like it was easing away. She liked seeing Kaidan let loose a bit. It wasn’t something that was typically easy for him either.

Before they knew it, they danced through song after song, and the tempo suddenly changed to something much slower. That made them both stop and catch their breath as they looked to each other again, wondering what to do.

Kaidan saw everyone else around them starting to dance, so he looked back towards her with a smile, holding his hands out in question for her to join him. “I guess we probably should.”

Shepard looked around her, realising the same thing. “Right,” she said as she put her hands in his, and he pulled her closer.

Thanks again for this ask! This was really fun to pick out some favourites.

#my writing #mass effect fanfiction #snippets #F!Shenko #Hannah Shepard #asks and answers #thank you!!!#Anonymous

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happysharkintensifies · 4 years

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There’s a little trend I’ve been noticing in YA. SJ/M made it very obvious, and I’ve been seeing it over and over again in other YA books, even in books by more skilled authors.

Basically, every YA male character is a hunk. That may sound like an over-generalization, but that’s the impression I’ve been getting.

If they’re a lead character, a protagonist, or significant to the plot in any way whatsoever, they’re going to be either tall, muscular, handsome, edgy, witty, or some combination of the above.

And in recent times, SJ/M has been one of the more serious offenders.

From the TOG wiki:

Now, there’s nothing wrong with Dorian being ‘very handsome’. He’s a prince representing the royal line, so he has to look the part.

And Chaol, being a trained soldier in service to the king, is probably required to maintain a standard of grooming, hence his own good looks.

But the thing that’s sticking out to me is that both of these dudes are in the range of six feet tall. Look, I’m not knocking on tall dudes. I’m just saying that there’s something up when the two most significant male characters introduced in TOG are both taller than the average.

I can understand if it’s in regards to Chaol; he’s captain of the guard, so he has to have some kind of commanding presence. But what’s Dorian’s excuse? The guy’s a prince: sure, he can spar with Chaol evenly, but he’s more about that diplomacy and royal responsibility, rather than fighting prowess. He doesn’t need that kind of height.

Then, we have (drum roll, please) Rowrat Whinyboi:

Perhaps it’s just me, but Rowan’s description on the wiki sounds like the writer was salivating over him. Anyway.

Rowrat’s got the lion’s share of muscles. He’s ‘corded with muscle’. Seriously, he’s a brick shithouse (literally too, but that’s a discussion for another time). He’s 6 feet and 4 inches, which means he is exactly 1 Jason Momoa tall.

He also ‘purrs’. That can be chalked up to his deep voice, but how deep does it have to be for a ‘purr’?

And, of course, the man is handsome as hell. With Chaol and Dorian, I could sort of understand, because they have hygiene standards up at the palace, but why does Rowan have to look like a supermodel?

Not to mention the ‘long gleaming silver’ hair. Maybe it’s genetics. Maybe it’s Fae physiology. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Either way, it’s

Now let’s look at ACOTAR:

And here, we’re starting to see a pattern. Tamlin is ‘strikingly handsome’, ‘tall’, with a ‘warrior’s build’.

Riceman is ‘heartbreakingly handsome’ (ha ha wtf), has a ‘muscular chest’, and ‘radiates sensual grace and ease’.

Basically, in SJ/M’s world, a male character can only be significant if they’re handsome, muscular, extremely tall, and is very confident and sure of themselves. Any man or boy who doesn’t fit the ideal is either nonexistent, or simply not worth writing about.

But here’s the thing. When I was a teenager, I was none of those things.

I wasn’t fit and muscular, I was round and chunky. I still am.

I wasn’t very skilled at stuff. I only had two talents: writing and drawing. And even then, I felt I was subpar. I had to convince myself that I could do those things.

I’m not what you would call good-looking either. My face isn’t what you would call chiseled or strong-jawed. In fact, I’m a round-faced, hairy guy.

I’m not overly tall, I’m overly short. I was once mistaken for a fourteen-year old when I was twenty-three. There are fifteen-year olds who are at eye level with me.

And I’m not confident and stoic. There are times when I feel small and inconsequential. I sometimes slip and wear my emotions on my sleeve. I have to muster as much courage as I can if I want to speak with someone, and when I do, I tend to put my foot in my mouth.

There’s something y’all should know about me: I’m not a big fan of most YA. Even when I was in my teens, I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm. The Hunger Games was the last YA book I read for a long time.

I mean, yeah there’s a lot of good books out there, and they deserve the praise they get. I ain’t knocking on them.

But the reason I couldn’t sink my teeth all the way in, is the fact that I just couldn’t relate to any of the male characters in these books.

Almost every one of these guys is either unrealistically tall, handsome, fit and muscular, confident, skilled at something, etc, etc.

SJ/M not only keeps that trend going on, she turns it up to eleven and rips off the knob.

If you’re not extremely muscular, then you’re either a skinny weakling or a fat slob.

If you’re not supermodel handsome, then you’re a nondescript average joe, or just plain ugly.

If you’re not tall with a looming presence, then you are literally beneath notice.

If you’re not witty, or sarcastic, or eloquent, then you’re just stupid.

If you’re not broody, then you’re simple and two-dimensional.

And if you’re not supremely confident with yourself, or are not able to muster courage, then you’re a pathetic, spineless coward who nobody likes.

Besides the misogyny, performative feminism, the utter lack of queer rep, and aggressive heteronormativity, SJ/M’s male characters are yet another thing about her books that absolutely infuriate me.

#anti sjm #anti sarah j maas #anti tog #anti acotar

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dollydeez · 3 years

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Chapter One Sneak Peek

I’m currently rewriting the ending and haven’t done final edits yet, but I thought I’d go ahead and post the first chapter of Lesbian Robots From Space to give people an idea of what I’m going for with this project. So here it is, Chapter One: Get Lost!

I spent most of my free time wandering around the space station. There wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen, but I’m well known enough in this sector that I pick up just as much business wandering around as sitting in my office. It’s a rough part of the galaxy, so it’s not uncommon for your affairs to get FUBAR. There’s four levels to the thing, going from the hangar at the gravitational bottom to the flats at the top, with a shopping centre and office section respectively in between. I don’t know why old space movies liked spherical buildings, can you imagine how annoying that’d be? Use a cube like a thinking being and maximize your available space. If my flat had a curved ceiling I’d start a riot. And having the hangar in the middle, I mean I guess for military constructions but what the fat cats want for their civilian developments is for people to have to walk through as much commercial space as possible.

My favourite part was checking out the hangar, and not just because it was a hotspot for people on the run. So many ships, from all over, docked here. Swear to god, I saw one that looked exactly like a pickle. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. I mean, until the crew started spilling out and medics had to be called. People don’t land here because they want to check it out, they land here because they are out of options. We are the Saint Jude of scum. The regular clientele had an effect on the shops offered. Shite specific for those living here were automated, usually owned by the station. Stuff like furniture stores, clothes shops and the grocer’s. There were a couple people trying to hack out a living with their cooking, but… let’s just say if they were good they’d be elsewhere. Hell do I know, I never went into any of those disease factories. Most of the other shops sold guns, parts and medical supplies. It wasn’t the worst place in the world to poke around, it was always entertaining to see some lost yokel argue with someone, who’s surrounded by guns mind you, seemingly unaware that this is absolutely the place your annoying corpse would be chucked into space. I was good friends with Doc, the lad who ran the station’s main medical bay. He was a good kid, just made some mistakes early on and had to move his practice off world. Well, he wasn’t bad. Every so often he’d get bored doing his work. You’d know when to keep your issues to yourself when you saw some poor bastard limping around the food court with the wrong number of limbs, or the right number but on the wrong side. He usually stayed up in his office, however, across from mine. We were friendly enough, and he told his staff to let me wander around the wards.

The limited number of staff made this an absolutely desperate place to seek medical attention. If you weren’t of the species represented in the OR, you might have to cling to life as some doofus flips through a book trying to figure out what the hell you are. So, why not have a little conversation? I’d swoop in, say something about how they seemed to be in some heap of trouble, and most of the time I’d get a job. Money up front of course, and if they argued this point I’d make sure they were clear on how friendly I was with the medic bay. This tactic meant that sometimes they’d take my card and never be heard from again. Which is fine, credits spend the same, but it doesn’t do much for word of mouth. I knew I’d hit the jackpot when someone, gushing blood, would look up with wide eyes and ask if I was Lisa Dean. Why yes, and your price just doubled. Hey, if they know my track record I can put it up front rather than racking up bullshit expenses. If they argue about the rate their buddy got, I’d tell them that if I wasn’t worth it I wouldn’t get recommended. Here I hand them my card, because if they’re bleeding there’s someone who caused that blood and they can get looked for somewhere else. But if they approach me as I’m wandering the rest of the station, I’d invite them up to my office.

I’m still proud of how well I fixed up the place; when I moved in it was little more than a ratty little hole in the wall, wallpaper peeling, lightbulb flickering, dark and damp, reeking of mold, somehow there was a leak from the flats upstairs despite the fact this is a space station and, well, that feels concerning. But I’d moved in with plenty of disposable income and plenty of time, so I made use of the automated stores down stairs. I thought it’d be neat to get some wood inside there, so there was a jarring feeling when you walk in from the outside. Most of the station is boring polished steel, blinking lights, then you enter my office and it’s wood. Getting books for the shelf was a pain, it’s the one thing the station doesn’t sell, so for a while I looked like a real cunt with plenty of shelf space and a handful of books. People would ask about it, which was annoying but, alright, it was a compounding factor on how shady it all seemed, and I’d tell them I’d lost most of my books in the move and was waiting for them to arrive. Which was true enough, at least enough to shut them up about it. But they’d sit across from my desk and tell me the details of their woes, then I’d tell them how I’d solve it for them. It was a pretty good system. Sometimes, I’d have to get them back into the office to go over some details or expenses. I started out my practice letting the expenses slide in exchange for a favour, which people are usually grateful enough to accept, so at this point it was generally understood that you should pay your expenses when I tell you to. When I wanted to get out of the flat but didn’t want to wander around the station, I’d hang out in my office. People coming in at these times were the most annoying, because usually if I don’t want to do a job I can get out of it easily. In the medbay, they’re dying so they’re not in the position to chase after me. Elsewhere, I can either pretend they’ve got the wrong person or give some extravagant price that they won’t concede to. Every so often, I got roped into a job I don’t want to do and I resent it. I even resent it when people come into my office uninvited and put me in the awkward position of turning them away. Usually if I’m upfront about how I find their case boring or trivial, they’ll get all offended and leave. Some require more pushing.

The day began normally. I got up, got ready, and headed out into the world. I didn’t have much going on, and was on the edge of liking it that way. The station was pretty dead for once, with the usually chaotic and filled hangar being nearly empty. I think the only ships there might have belonged to the few residents that owned one. I felt sorry, and still do, for the poor fuckers stuck on that hellhole. Usually what happened was that someone, not knowing better, would land from a nearby planet with little more than a dream and an idea of the cheap real estate. Then they’d chop their ship at one of the shops upstairs, grab a place and a store front, and slowly regret their decision. It was cheap real estate, almost offensively so, but that was because no one in their right mind would show up unless under duress. Sure, Doc might get a poor family that’d gained just enough capital to get up there for his skills, but with orderlies mostly running the OR they usually were disappointed. Then they’d have a “well, we’re here, sad and hungry” meal from one of the subpar restaurants before heading back to their planet. So those who sold their way off to settle here were more or less stuck in relative poverty. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy if a legitimately talented chef or whatever risked everything to set up shop here and succeeded their way back off, but I’ve never seen it happen. Even when someone has been somewhat of a draw, it was never enough to get a ship and enough money to set up somewhere nicer. The only one I’ve seen get close is Synthia Gray, who garnered good reviews and quite a few people going out of their way to try her food. But the area’s too dangerous for anyone who could have a real impact, or the masses that might do the same, to come by. I just remember them packing up all her stuff one day, saying it’d been auctioned off. Turns out she decided to try her luck leaving the station, only without a ship or a suit. Sweet girl, I was always sorry it happened to her, but it was inevitable as soon as she stepped foot here. People don’t leave, not when they’re attached to it financially.

My theory is that the owners rig the price just so in order to attract desperate people. Those people pay rent, usually two forms of rent, while buying all their goods from the company and paying “taxes” on all the money they make. It’s an absolute racket, designed to keep this sorry excuse of a space station staffed enough to keep it used and profitable. Most people end up going into debt after settling. If the company had a heart, they’d offer some sort of way off when people go broke, but instead they allow people to run up the score. It’s indentured servitude to make the station seem full and welcoming to anyone willing to put money into a bad investment.

In any case, I was one of the few fortunate enough to have a ship still in the hangar. Which was good news for both me and the station itself, as I needed it to work. Can’t quite look into things if I’m stuck on a hunk of metal orbiting aimlessly around some nothing gas giant. I like to keep it tuned up, making sure it’s ready to go at a moment’s notice and taking it for a short spin every so often to make sure it can, in fact, work. I love my ship, but I feel like other people feel that on an entirely different level. It’s a reliable and necessary tool, but I don’t see much need in worrying about it being clean or looking nice or whatever. I’ll get a Wash Me on the window if I haven’t taken it out in too long, but I’ll just scrub it off. As long as it gets me from point A to point B I’m happy with it. After I gave it a good look over, because what the fuck else was I going to do, I headed up to the shopping area to wander around for a little bit. It was boring. Even Doc’s was mostly empty, with the one person being looked after having cut himself deeply out of sheer clumsiness. I wasn’t quite ready to go back to the flat, I wanted to keep it a space I felt good in, so I headed back to my office. And there was someone waiting for me. I did not like this, and I’m still not super happy about it.

She was sat in my office chair, usually reserved for active clients, and dressed in all black. Even when I walked in, she continued boohooing into her snot rag, you know how these mucus gremlins are, with loud and halting cries. I could see flakes of red hair poking out of her garish black hat, complete with a little veil in front of her face. I cleared my throat and she finally turned around.

“Are you Lisa Dean?”

“That’s what it says on the door.”

I made my way to my desk, and she looked up at me from her hunched posture with wet eyes. I had to awkwardly shimmy between the close wall and my desk, an act I don’t like doing in front of people who might be deciding to pay me, before sitting down. She could hardly put words together and babbled incoherently.

“I’m guessing someone’s dead?”

Mistake. This set her off with a loud wail and I had to wait it out. I flipped through an old magazine on my desk and cursed myself for not picking up a newspaper. Apparently those skis were still available with an exclusive discount. Eventually her sobs started to stabilize and it seemed as though she were about to speak, so I tilted the magazine down.

“My wife… she’s gone!”

This had my attention. A lover, possibly murdered, possibly missing, but either way a mystery? Grand, sounds to be quite the adventure.

“So, in your words, what’s happened?”

She sniffled a bit, then took a few deep breaths to collect herself.

“I woke up one day and she was gone, with a note left saying she’d left and her ship was gone. But I know she would have never done something like that!”

“I’m not saying I won’t take the case, but given the evidence she just left don’t you think this getup is a bit much?”

“She would never! She would never do such a thing, the possibility wouldn’t even be in her programming it’s so antithetical-”

“Whoa, stop right there. Her programming?”

“She was a robot, but what we had was so real.”

“Buy another.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your bot babe was defective. Buy. Another.”

I brought the magazine back up to my face and let her spit and sputter. She seemed the type to have always gotten her way, daddy’s favourite, and I’ll be honest I took some joy in saying no. She composed herself and stood, placing a calling card on my desk.

“Regardless, I’ve heard you’re the best. If you change your mind, please give me a call.”

“Mkay.”

She kept standing there, looming over me, until I placed the square into my desk drawer. Who even does that? A square card? Where is that meant to go? A purse I suppose, so I’ll respect the specificity of use, but if she was married it was an oversight to not update it for easier storage. That said, I’m probably over analysing it and should concentrate on telling the story. That’s what’s important, the story, not any of these bullshit details. In all honesty, I might just be bored and pointing out shite like this for the drama. In any case, she took her leave and I went back to reading my magazine. Halfway into an article on exercise routines, for whatever reason, I put it down to go buy a paper because if I had to keep reading this sports magazine I’d punch a hole in the station wall.

I was sitting in the local saloon, watching Doc get absolutely hammered. From that and the blood drenching his coat, you’d assume he’d had a rough day and was having to work through some heavy shite. You would be wrong. Not to suggest he is drenched in blood on a daily basis, although it isn’t an unusual occurrence, but he did enjoy drinking until he had to be carried back upstairs. It was a bad idea to say it, or even imply it, but there was a common understanding that this habit most likely landed him on the station. It was generally accepted that you do not want to piss off the person who has a say in you getting patched up, and if you’re going to be doing something especially dangerous, do it early to be on the safe side. So he’s leaning on the bar, gripping his beer as if it was about to float away, and grimacing. The poor busboy was holding his mop by the tip of the handle to mop up the pool of blood slowly forming underneath Doc’s stool and holding his breath in an effort not to be noticed. I wouldn’t call Doc a mean drunk, as that would imply he was different the rest of the time. Bless him, he was a bastard but wholly honest about it. I leaned forward as he started mumbling, the reek of beer and whisky pouring from his mouth more freely than from the taps, just in case he was trying to talk to me. He bolted upright and grabbed me by the lapel, pulling me close and forcing eye contact.

“No one here today! Only the cunts showed! Cunts, all of them, screaming and bleeding and all but pissing themselves, whining for their mammies!”

He slumped back against the bar and placed his face into his arms, and Frankie, our bartender, looked over to me. I nodded, resenting the fact I’d need a wash after taking him to his place. He turned his head, ear now pressed firmly against the bar and seemed like he was looking for a response.

“Yeah, Doc, absolutely awful. Only job offer I got was to locate a missing bot, wasn’t about to take a salvage job.”

He pushed himself up, working his way into a maniacal laugh, and I had to put a hand on his back to keep him from going arse over teakettle.

“What’s her name?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have her card upstairs, she wouldn’t leave until I took it.”

“She fit?”

“Not your type, I don’t think.”

“Certainly ways to change that. ‘Not my type’, feh! Insult my skills.”

Knocking my arm away, he took another swig of beer and lied back down on the counter. He should have been cut off hours ago, but Frankie was in the odd position of having to poison the man who might save her life, or he might not out of spite. Well, if you were lucky he’d leave it at that. Most of the time, the blood was from boredom more than altruism. If you made the mistake of causing a ruckus in his med bay, well let’s just say that being handed over to Doc to be handled personally usually was a bad sign. He did personally take care of station residents, at least the ones whose death would be inconvenient for him, but, again, that was only a good thing at the right time of day. Stubborn as a mule, if he wanted to be hands on begod no one would stop him. Which is unfortunate for everyone, including Doc. That’s how Frankie got her job, and it took him almost a year to adjust.

Luckily, Doc wouldn’t argue against the saloon closing and would allow himself to be walked home, usually with a takeaway cup in tow. As the clock struck three, I picked him up and half dragged him away from the bar. He woke up enough to start struggling, reaching toward where he had been with both arms extended.

“Drink!”

“Alright, give me a second.”

I sat him back down on his stool and leaned him on his arm so he’d stay upright. Frankie, who always waited and watched to make sure Doc left without a fuss, already had his cup ready and mouthed a thank you. When I handed him the paper cup, he took a few sips from his straw, readied himself and nodded. He could almost stand, so I had to prop him up by the armpit and lead him to the elevator.

“Real sorry situation.”

“Mhm.”

It was hard to make out the words, but regardless of what he was talking about I was not about to treat it as anything but gospel. He was slumped in the corner of the elevator, barely supporting himself on the banister. The one advantage of helping Doc home is that, despite how busy it is at this time of night, we’d get an elevator to ourselves for a quick trip home. It was a quieter trip than most nights, as he was just staring down at his cup. The ones where he was overly rowdy were definitely worse, but I enjoyed hearing him drunkenly ramble about some random topic. I don’t know if him being a doctor made it more or less weird, but he was well read on the most obscure topics. He once described, in detail, the history of the human homeworld, but with a topic like that it was equally plausible he was making up most of it. Either way was entertaining. But this, this was just sad. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I helped him out into the hallway.

“Right, so how far do you need?”

“Bed.”

His flat was fairly close to the elevator, either by planning on his part or coincidence, so it wasn’t too much trouble. I tried to prop him up against the wall to search him for his keys, but he just slid down it. He slapped my hand away when I tried to get to his pockets anyway.

“Leave here.”

“You know you’ll be furious tomorrow if I do.”

“Fair.”

Pawing at his pants, he managed to drop the keys onto the floor. I unlocked the door, then got him up and into the apartment. Ratty is the best way to describe it. I am fully aware we are off-planet, but you could easily convince me there’s any number of vermin among the wreckage. Due to his importance to the maintenance of the place, I’m pretty sure he’s paid more than anyone here, especially since most people don’t get paid at all, but you couldn’t tell from the state of his flat. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the brokest of all of us, but I don’t think that even matters to him. This wasn’t the first time I had to take him inside, but I always had to adjust to the absolute squalor. It never fully sunk in, the way he lived, if you want to call it that.

There was a relatively clean recliner in the telly area, so I left him there while I got his bed ready. I set up a glass of water and some paracetamol for him in the morning, then brought him over to tuck him in. He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle of the mattress, so I put the duvet over him. We were close, but it was well established that he’d rather sleep fully clothed than go through the further indignity of being stripped. The one time I tried, he fought back with tears in his eyes. I didn’t see much, but I remember a large scar across his middle. I’m happy not knowing.

After I got upstairs and cleaned myself up, I sat down on my couch. Any other day, a rejected case would be the last thing on my mind, but I couldn’t help thinking about the one I found in my office. If she wants to waste her money having someone turn up a lost appliance, I have no issue with it, but the gall of seeking me out and expecting me to waste my time with that nonsense was infuriating. But it was none of my business, I made that quite clear. I lied down on the couch and flipped on the telly, not ready to power down for the night. Nothing good was on, so I shuffled through the channels and watched the shadows dance on the wall. It would be a safety nightmare, but times like these I desperately wished we could have windows. There were a couple planets close enough to watch, sitting in a ship outside, and plenty of stars of course. I always loved the look of it, the majesty of the universe, but there was hardly an opportunity to enjoy it anymore. Well, if I wanted it I could have it, but there didn’t seem to be a point to it. I find work by being in the station, and that pays the bills. Plus, the stars just looked duller nowadays. Better off to stay at home and watch whatever brain drain they’re pumping out to the screens of the galaxy.

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iiintoxiiicated · 6 years

Text

Robstar Week 2018 - Day Three

hey yall im back and i am THRIVING so here is the next prompt!

DAY THREE: DANCE

“I know little of Earthly customs,” Starfire admitted as she pulled the gloves of her dress up, “though it is the parties where I contain the least amount of knowledge. You will remain by my side, yes?” She batted her lashes up at Robin once she felt as though the gloves were on tight enough.

Robin nodded as he fiddled with his red tie, eventually managing to tuck it in appeasingly. He raised his head to meet Starfire, eyes caught in a trance from her beauty.

He was glad he insisted upon wearing the mask.

Starfire’s tongue clicked distastefully as she approached her acclaimed date, sighing as she set her emerald eyes upon his domino-colored mask. “You have insisted on keeping the mask on most strongly, and I do respect your wishes, but…”

Robin quirked a brow as he linked their arms together. “But?”

“Is there nothing I may say to get you to remove it?” The frown was evident on her face as her eyes traced over the fabric that coated the sight of his eyes. “It makes you appear most handsome, of course, though I recall this event to be the formal.”

“The mask is formal!” insisted the Teen Wonder as he pouted, running a hand through his gelled hair. Even removing his gloves was difficult for him, being so pro-secret identity, but Starfire had coaxed him out of it. After all, the green looked obnoxious against the red of his tie and the black of his suit. “It adds an air of mystery. Plus, everybody knows you, Star. I don’t need anyone to know what I look like without my mask. It completely defeats the purpose of having a secret identity.”

Starfire looked unconvinced as she hummed. “Beast Boy removed his mask upon your initial meeting. I do not know why you cannot remove yours for only a night while he has removed his for the last few years.”

“Raven made a good point,” Robin sighed as he unlinked their arms to grab the corsage he bought for her. He plucked the plastic container up and removed the floral arrangement carefully, wrapping it around her silver-gloved hand. “Beast Boy is green, has fangs, and pointed ears. His secret identity wouldn’t have lasted long, anyway.”

The Tamaranean princess huffed as she held out her hand for the corsage to be placed. Her eyes twinkled with a mischievous gleam as she continued to tease her date on about it. “I suppose… though I will mention again that I would most enjoy the sight of your eyes beneath the fabric.”

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her hand, internally screaming as his smooth guy instincts overtook him. He linked their fingers together and grinned, “Someday, Star. Just not tonight, but another day. I promise.”

They walked out of the room and down toward the garage where Starfire frowned. “Will we be taking your motorcycle to arrive to the party? I fear that it will dirty my dress as well as your suit, and Bumblebee emphasized that it was to be formal.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “I was hoping we could, but if you’re so worried then we can just drive there.”

Starfire squealed in delight. “We are going to drive in the vehicle you have recently purchased?”

The Teen Wonder nodded with a smile as they entered the garage. The T-Car sat in all its glory with Robin’s motorcycle resting beside it. They glistened with the desire to be driven, though a third option sat farther back in the garage.

Robin plucked the keys from where they hung by the door, pressing a button as the car let out a beep! to signify it was unlocked. He opened Starfire’s door and ushered her in, careful not to close the door on the fabric of her dress. He then hurried to the other side and hopped in, shoving the key into the car and waiting until the engine roared to life.

“This party… we will be doing the dancing, I assume?”

Robin nodded again as he backed out of the garage, eyes resting on his rearview mirrors. “Yup. The Titans East rented a penthouse to celebrate their two-year anniversary of forming. Of course, we’ve been here far longer and never held a party, but…” A smirk appeared on his lips as he turned the wheel to begin driving on the main road.

Starfire’s fingers drummed against her legs as the stereo gently sung some kind of modern-pop sound. Robin’s fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel as he wanted to change the station, though he instead just let it be.

“You will be my partner again, yes?”

Robin blinked and spared a glance over at Starfire. “U-uh, yeah, but, um…” the Titan stammered as his cheeks turned rosy. “Again? When was the last time we danced, Star? I don’t remember it to be anytime recent.”

Starfire shook her head and turned her gaze from admiring the stars to her date. “No, it was a while ago. Do you recall when you had to attend the Prom with the Kitten? So you would save the city from the terrible creatures of Killer Moth? We did the slow-paced dancing after they were defeated.”

“Oh,” breathed Robin as he set his eyes back on the road, once again relieved he had kept the mask on. He wouldn’t forget that day—especially since he still had dreams about it—because it was the day he realized his feelings for Starfire were growing. “I remember.”

“...Was I a decent partner?”

“E-excuse me?” Robin frowned as he spared another glance. “What do you mean by that?”

Starfire shrugged her shoulders and smiled down at Robin. Her green eyes were glittering with the memory fresh in her head, though she affixed them onto him. “During the dance, of course. Did I make the experience enjoyable? Or were my skills in the art of dance subpar?”

He tugged at the collar of his undershirt with a free hand, other one gripping the wheel to steer the car on the road. “You were a fine dancer,” Robin assured with a weak smile. He wanted to glance over at her and stare into her emerald eyes as he spoke, though the action of driving took that option away. “I’m no performer either, so I think you did just fine. I’ll be looking forward to uh, sharing another dance with you tonight.”

The Tamaranean blushed as her eyes lit up. “As will I. But… if I am to be honest, I have been doing the practice for this event.”

“Practicing what?”

“The manners of party,” answered the princess, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She fidgeted anxiously with her silver gloves, wringing her hands together. “Though more specifically the manners of dance. Beast Boy and Cyborg have introduced me to a website that will supply a previously-recorded video of whatever I search. I have been using it to sharpen my skills in said art.”

Robin grinned to himself. The thought of Starfire staying up late all night in her room while dancing to videos recorded on the web amused him. It was sweet, of course, if not adorable.

Not that Robin would say that out loud.

But he sure could think it.

Upon noticing his amused grin, Starfire’s demeanor shifted. She drooped slightly and looked over at her fellow Titan, a brow raised. “I-is it not normal of me to do so? I had assumed that, since there were previously-recorded videos of such, it was not an oddity to-”

“No, Star, it’s not weird in any way,” Robin smiled. He reached over to entwine one of her hands with his own while the other continued to grip the wheel. “It’s actually pretty, uh, sweet. Y’know, it’s pretty… pretty sweet of you to learn how to dance. For, um, the party. Sorry, but I didn’t have time to spiff up on my dancing skills. I didn’t think you would.”

“The internet has informed me that learning how to dance adequately is essential for many of the parties,” recited the Tamaranean as she racked her brain for knowledge of the article she read. “It looks nice if you arrive at a party knowing how to properly dance.”

“Then I suppose you can teach me a move or two?” Robin cocked a brow teasingly at the Tamaranean, watching as her face coated with a blush.

Starfire reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly. “Be serious, Robin!” she chided lightly, a wide smile plastered on her face. “It took me many nights to perfect the art of the dance. So this time, I will be leading.”

“All right, all right,” chuckled the Teen Wonder as he held up his hands in surrender. He had just parked outside the penthouse where the searchlights zigzagged the sky in brilliant patterns. Robin withdrew the keys and tucked them into his pocket, running around the side of the car to open the door for Starfire.

He took her hand and linked their arms together, guiding the Tamaranean to the door. Robin took notice of the shakiness in her stride and the slight drooping of her stature. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he raised a brow.

“Are you okay?” The sound of his voice questioning her seemed to draw Starfire out of her trance. She flinched and turned her heard to meet his masked stare. Robin’s frown deepened at the sight, though he continued his inquiry. “You seem out of it. I thought you were excited?”

“I am indeed excited!” Starfire insisted, her tone sudden as it startled the black-haired teen. He blinked at her, making the princess sigh only deeper. “...Yes, the party will be most glorious, though I worry. What if I embarrass us both once we partake in the dance? We will be mocked by the other Titans!”

“Don’t think of it like that,” soothed Robin as he temporarily took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled and she did in return. “They’re our friends. Sure, if we mess up there’ll be a bit of friendly teasing, but they won’t say anything to hurt our feelings. Now hold your chin high, Star, we’re here.”

The Tamaranean princess felt Robin’s thumb and forefinger lift her head and she beamed. “Thank you, Robin. I look forward to our shared dance greatly.”

Robin squeezed her hand once more. “So do I.”

Hours had passed since they arrived and about all of the Titans—Honorary included—had arrived to the party. As per request, many of them were clad in suits and tuxedos and dresses. Only a few came dressed in semi-casual wear, though once Bumblebee came around, they were sure to keep away.

Starfire had eaten her fill at the table and even accompanied a few of her fellow girl friends to the dance floor while Robin watched.

He wanted to be subtle and not scare her if she noticed his curious eyes. Robin knew she was somewhat self-conscious about how she danced, though with the way her hair moved back and forth and her hips shook, Robin could’ve sworn she was a natural.

His elbow rested on the table, the palm of his hand supporting his chin as he watched the Tamaranean girl spin and twirl with the likes of her fellow Titans. Robin stifled a laugh as he took notice of how she nearly stumbled in her heels though regained her footing by hovering.

It was obvious the others she danced with noticed as well, giggling along with her.

“Hey, take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Robin blinked at a familiar voice and turned his head to see Speedy, clad in a gray blazer with a white undershirt. A striking black tie adorned his neck and when Robin met his eyes, he was surprised to see two green ones staring back at him.

“Speedy,” remarked the Teen Wonder with a couple of blinks. It was odd seeing his eyes. He typically wore a mask that resembled his own (though Robin continuously argued that he wore the mask first), but for tonight his eyes were exposed. “It’s nice seeing you here. Almost didn’t recognize you without the mask.”

Speedy scoffed, pulling out a seat to join Robin as he rolled his eyes. “Ah, don’t even talk about it,” he groaned with a wave of his hand, “it’s the talk of the party! Whenever I pop up to just strike up some small talk, it’s always, ‘Wow, Speedy! Your eyes are green?’ or even ‘You’re Speedy?! Did your mask fall off?’ It’s awful.”

Robin laughed, leaning back into the chair as he crossed his arms. “I guess you can see why I kept mine on then?”

“I’m surprised, to be honest,” admitted the archer as he laid his green eyes on Robin. “A little green bird told me that you were going with Starfire. I figured she’d talk you out of wearing the mask with the way Bumblebee emphasized that it was strictly formal.”

Robin laughed again, smiling to himself. “Yeah, Starfire tried to talk me out of it, but it’s all about the secret identity.” He tapped at the edge of the black fabric with a finger. “I know this party is Titans only, but you never know when we’ll need to hop into action.”

Speedy shrugged, “I doubt any baddie is gonna be out with all the talk of the party. That’s the only reason I decided I wouldn’t need it. Plus, I hid my bow in the kitchen in case something like that does happen. My mask’s there, too.”

“Clever as always, Speedy.” Robin withdrew a birdarang from the inside of his blazer. He smirked, watching as the wings of said device opened with a shing! “Great minds think alike. I didn’t feel safe leaving Tower without a few of these and a grappling hook or two.”

Speedy opened his mouth to talk though his eyes widened once he took notice of Bumblebee trudging their way with a very displeased look on her face. Robin gave a small wave and she forced a smile before glaring at Speedy again.

“What’s up?” called the archer with a groan, signaling to Robin. “I’m trying to enjoy the festivities of the party here!”

Bumblebee rolled her eyes and stomped over. “Don’t you play dumb with me, Speedy!” she snapped, crossing her arms over her golden dress. “I just found your bow and a stash of your arrows in the kitchen! Mind explaining to me what they were doing here, at the formal party, where we don’t bring weapons?!”

Speedy tugged at his tie anxiously before he took off in a hurry. Robin laughed as he heard Bumblebee mutter something along the lines of, “You’re not getting away again!” before she took off with her wings spread behind her.

Robin watched the pursuit for a few moments before a flash of hot pink and silver flew at him, tackling the teen in a hug. He flinched though relaxed upon taking notice of who it was.

“Robin! Please, you must join me in the slow-paced dancing,” urged Starfire as she tugged at his arm. “You have promised to remain by my side, and while I—regrettably!—went to celebrate with my fellow Titans, I wish to partake in the dance!” Starfire tugged at his arm again.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Robin chuckled as he stood up and linked arms with Starfire. “You’ve been dancing all night. Aren’t you exhausted? And in those shoes, too!” He nodded down at her heels.

Starfire smiled widely as she lifted her dress enough to reveal that she was hovering over the ground just a few centimeters. Lifting her stare, she managed a sly wink at Robin. “My feet do not ache in the slightest. Now, may I have the dance with you?”

Robin nodded and walked her to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her hips and waited before she positioned herself accordingly, her arms linked behind his neck. They swayed back and forth slowly to the beat, staring into each other’s eyes.

The black-haired teen almost flinched when Starfire nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. He felt her warm breath tickle his chin and he almost let out a laugh, though Robin instead exhaled deeply, his cheeks flooded with color.

He leaned forward a bit so Starfire didn’t have to bury her face into him so deeply, adjusting so that they both swayed comfortably. Robin felt the stares of fellow Titans as they eyed them, a few of them gossipping to one another.

Robin felt his eyes slowly shut as he secured his grip around her.

It was soothing to be there with Starfire. The music was slow albeit satisfying as they rocked back and forth across the dance floor, buried in each other’s arms. There were other couples on the floor, of course, though to Robin, they felt invisible.

It was just them.

Dancing.

He peeked an eye open when his fingertips felt feverishly warm, glancing down at where his hand was placed. Robin blinked in surprise and frowned, murmuring to Starfire.

“Uh… Star? Your hair is on fire.”

Astonishingly, Starfire didn’t bolt into action. She hummed in delight and continued to sway, giggling when she peeked open an eye to see Robin’s brows furrowed as he studied the flames that hung at the tips of her ruby locks.

“It is all right,” assured Starfire with a fond smile. “This is no oddity for the people of my planet. While it is uncommon in males, the tips of many Tamaraneans’ hair often becomes alight with flame. The fire is harmless, but it is fueled from the deep passion found within our hearts.”

Starfire hugged him tighter. “And I believe you are the fuel for my passion, Robin.”

The Teen Wonder blinked once, then twice before registering her words. His ears felt oddly warm as she nuzzled herself back into the crook of his neck, unphased. Robin felt his lips curl into a wide smile as he buried his nose into her hair, feeling the flames warm his fingertips.

Nothing. Nothing could ruin this moment for him in the midst of their dance.

#robstar #robstar week #robstar week 2018 #teen titans #fanfiction #dance

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enbycupcake · 6 years

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random sections of a beauty and the beast au equalling a bit less than 1k. it’s been in google drive for over a year; will i ever piece it together and finish it???? probably not

“The answer, truthfully?” rasps out of the breathing apparatus. “I killed them all before Obi-Wan could stop me. I promise not to hurt you.”

Padmé gasps, her mind trying to wrap the information around the image of this man she’s come to briefly know. Forcing herself to not look away from him, despite the fact he wouldn’t see if she did, she breathes out. She asks how could he?

“Obi-Wan hasn’t been my only master.” His hands curl into a fist, the leather of his gloves squeaking. “I was naive.”

“Who–”

“He’s dead. Obi-Wan murdered him to release me.”

“Then why do you stay here, on such an uncaring planet?”

“To where would we go? I’m not fit for anything.”

Padmé draws closer, her hand going up rest on Anakin’s arm. She hopes he can feel it. “Says who? Obi-Wan? Your dead master?”

“The only skills I possess are those that ruin.”

“My breakfast wasn’t ruined.”

“Maybe Obi-Wan made it.”

“I rather think it was you, Anakin.”

The harsh sound of his breathing rings in the silence. Padmé waits for a response, but none is forthcoming from him besides the twitch of his fingers. She thinks he wants to reach out to her but won’t. Acting on instinct, she slides her hand down to grip his. Still only his breath escapes him, but his fingers settle.

His fingers settle.

By the time she and Anakin return to his prison, the lava is spitting from the ground at a pace Padmé fears, the glow reflecting off of Anakin’s suit nearly blinding in how all consumingly red it is. It’s a relief when the door shuts behind them, and the fire stops shining on his body.

Anakin starts on to the kitchen; Padmé follows. By the state of the food Padmé’s been eating here, cooking either calms Anakin down or he just really enjoys it, and Padmé doesn’t want to leave him alone after their afternoon. She doesn’t want to be alone after their afternoon – they’d simply held each other on the way back, and Padmé doesn’t want to be the one to let go. She knows Anakin won’t.

Anakin’s head softly sways while he works, like he has a tune that he’s humming in his head. Padmé wishes she could hear it. As it is, she just watches as her companion loses himself in his task. Here, like this, she thinks that she can actually trick herself into thinking Anakin is happy here. His body doesn’t look like a dead weight while he cooks. The harsh sounds of his subpar breathing module don’t echo against the kitchen walls. Padmé can’t see his face and doesn’t even know if he can, but she feels in her bones that when he cooks, Anakin smiles. The thought brings a bittersweet one to her own lips. He’d have a beautiful smile.

She sits herself next to Anakin at the dining table, spreading her legs out so their outer ones touch. Anakin’s head ducks. Padmé lets out a soft bout of laughter at the sight, pulling her dish closer to her while knocking knees. Anakin’s made her and Obi-Wan something like a porridge, dark brown and garnished with soft green plants from their little garden in the lower wing. She lets her giggles taper off before lifting her spoon, exaggerating blowing it to cool it. Anakin’s eager to see if she likes it, his large body curled up small in wait, and Padmé feels a pang about not having shared her meals with him. She doesn’t know if this is a pride thing, a worry about not being able to taste his own creation, or a wooing thing, but it obviously means a lot to him.

Taking her bite, she smiles up at him, mouth full and all. Anakin’s head falls back in his version of laughter, and Padmé swallows. “It’s delicious.”

“You didn’t even eat it properly.” But he’s taking up more of his chair, puffing up a little, preening.

“It was on my tongue, wasn’t it? It tastes good.”

“Thank you.”

Bringing another bite up to her mouth, Padmé nods. She settles in to properly eat, and Anakin beside her nervously brings his arms up to rest on the table.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan freezes where he sits, the little flower he was attending to drooping now his Force use has stopped. Padmé turns her head away to make it easier for him.

“That’s why you stay, isn’t it? Because you can’t bear to part from him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The drop of his head, she can see it from the corner of her eye, makes her ache for him momentarily. But then she feels her anger well back up. “You damn well do. I see the way you look at him; I see how lost you look when Anakin looks at me. It’s a selfish love you’ve got going on, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You two have been rotting here for years and still you’ve said nothing at all to him. Do you not see how desperately lonely he is? Or have you been ignoring it like you’ve been ignoring both your declining healths?”

“Anakin doesn’t want to leave. I’m not going to force him.”

“When was the last time you asked him? Do you even remember? When is enough enough? When you can’t speak to the Force well enough to grow your garden here? When Anakin’s suit breaks down beyond his repair? Because it’s getting there.”

“Anakin’s a mechanical genius; his suit isn’t going to break down.”

Padmé turns to stare at him. She just stares, struggling to not gape. Anakin’s suit is the things nightmares are made of. “Just how out of touch are the two of you? Did you two even talk anymore before I got here?”

“Excuse me?” he demands, his eyes dark from the shadow his hair casts from where it falls.

“Anakin’s suit is held together by a prayer. Do you even notice his breathing apparatus anymore? Those are supposed to be near silent. I can’t even imagine what state his organ regulators are in.”

#obianidala #my fic #kind of #i lost my outline draft somewhere along the way so *insert shrug emoji*#i just know it was gonna end happy bc i am a sap #star wars #pt #sw fic #food mention

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artap10-h-2019 · 4 years

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Reds vs. Blues. Watercolor on 9x12 watercolor paper. 2019.

It took me several attempts of conceptualizing my artwork before I finally landed to this self-portrait depicting myself looking forlorn into a gold mirror. Prior to this, I wanted to do an artwork hidden using invisible ink (known as magic markers by kids) to depict my inner desire to be able to do art but being withheld by my fear of criticism and failure. This fear disabled me to even attempt to create art because I’d rather not do something that would risk failure. I refused to open myself to vulnerability and shoved that desire about art far back into my head.

Ironically, as a child, I would draw on my sketchbook every free time I had. I was friends with kids that were into drawing as well, and I was labeled as one of the “art-inclined” students, joining the small competitions small and such. Nearing puberty, though, I stopped. My friends were improving at rates I could not keep up with, and I felt pressured to do better but embarrassed because I could not reach the skill level they were attaining. It has been years since I made any real attempt at trying to draw something pretty. I used the excuse of losing interest in drawing to minimize the judgements from people out of fear that they’d see me subpar compared to the others. I removed that possibility altogether and opted against risking criticism.

Something snapped in me, however. I built the courage to attempt painting a piece, as suggested by Sir, and this was the output. It shows me, looking into a mirror, meant to show that I am finally acknowledging that desire to be this “creative” person again. The contrast in color of the real me and the reflection shows the difference of how I currently present myself to my peers and how I want to actually be. The somewhat unhappy expression on my face signifies the vulnerability and unsureness of this attempt, but the gold-plated mirror surrounding it insinuates treasure behind. I want to believe that this attempt, despite wary and shaky, can lead to a good future, a happier one, something more vibrant, similar to what I truly desire, a braver version of myself, less afraid of being vulnerable, criticized, and failing.

This piece is a powerful one, for me. It’s an attempt of something I feared doing for a long time. An attempt at something I refused to admit I wanted to be good at. The act itself of painting this piece embodies the hard step taken into the direction against that apprehension, and the painting as well depicts a piece of my identity and my vulnerability due to that mentioned fear.

(447 words)

ID#181953

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infographicsisaacbewley · 5 years

Text

plastics infograph

https://vimeo.com/324963739

Above is the link to my final infographic video about plastics. Out of all the videos I have made using After Effects, this one took a very long time to render and upload, most likely due to my poor choice of video codecs. However, I had an issue with my computer which did not allow me to select a rendering codec which would reduce the file size and make it easy to load, which caused me to waste a lot of time and I struggled to finish and upload it so I would not say this was entirely due to my fault but technical issues. This definitely did impact the creation of the animation but hopefully this was a one-off variable that will not impact future projects or commissions.

The main programs I used to make this infograph were After Effects and Illustrator. Illustrator was used to create quick, silhouette-like images and assets which I imported to After Effects to manipulate. I found that Illustrator is easier to use than Photoshop for a task like this because the pen tools can be used to make quick and very smooth silhouettes and shapes, whereas in Photoshop I would have to use a tablet and smoothness on the pen to make a shape and it would not be as smooth as something done in Illustrator. I also used references images to make assets off and I felt it was easier to use Illustrator for this. While admittedly I did not have much time to polish the assets as much as I would have liked (such as the wave and several of the human silhouettes), I think that for the most part a lot of my assets were recognisable in their silhouette form which is good, and the sleek style helped me to finish the asset-creation fast so I could spend more time on the actual animation.

I actually received some feedback on several assets I had created for the infographic, namely this turtle. Previously, the turtle did not have the shell drawn in a different colour and the whole body was grey. Several people I had asked to critique the animation told me that they found some assets hard to recognise, so I worked to fix as much as this as I was able to before the time limit was up. The small change I did to this turtle was to draw the shell again in a different colour, and this seemed to work as the feedback said that this was much more recognisable and still fit within the style constraints I had set for the animation.

After making the assets, I imported them into After Effects. In my project proposal I outlined that I would mostly be using puppet pins to animate and move my assets, and in every other case I used skills that I have learnt over the years. I have been experimenting with puppet pins since very early on in my After Effects career, and found them very versatile and easy to use. I am most proud of my use of them when I was making the turtle ‘move’ through the water, although to fully pull off that imagery without ruining the original based of the turtle I had to draw the legs separate to the turtle’s main body, parent the legs to the torso and then only put puppet pins on the legs. This ensured that the legs stayed with the torso but they also moved independently in their own way to create the illusion that the legs were moving. I also experimented with coding in this - I googled a tutorial for how to make actions loop, and clicking alt while hovering over the blue ‘stopwatch’ icons opened up a small tab where I could copy paste looping code ( loopOut("cycle",0); ).

I used this method for most of the movement in the infographic, and the few exceptions mostly used movements that I had already become familiar with in previous tasks. One other notable animation I did was several expanding ‘circles’ which gave some dynamic movement and helped me transition from scene-to-scene, and I felt like this gave the infographic a bit more of a ‘wow’ factor. I used the technique around twice in the video, and because I pre-composed the entire animation after I made the initial one I could simply copy-paste it into any other scene I wanted. To make the ‘popping’ animation, I created 2 circles of different colours that still fit in the palette of the animation, and set their scale position to 0. Then, depending on which circle I wanted to expand first, I would go as many frames away as I wanted the animation to last for and then set the scale to 100. The second circle to ‘expand’ would also have this done, but the keyframe that let them start to expand would be moved back a little so it looked like 2 circles popped after each other. I had the second circle expand enough to cover the entire composition, and I did this because I coloured it the same as the background so this made the scene transition, and I think that this looked very well. Since I had a lot of practice with this technique it wasn’t too hard to remember what to do, and I think it worked well here.

As I outlined in my project proposal, I kept the subject of the infographic on a more positive story about plastic, while keeping in some facts and statistics on plastic consumption and its effects on the environment to keep the ‘infographic’ nature of the video true. Now that I have finished the video, I believe that I didn’t capitalise as well on the positive spin on plastic awareness as I could have. I think this is mainly due to my writing and choice of what facts and story to show, and with perhaps more time allocated into the storyboarding and writing of the video I could have made it much more impactful and concise. I struggled a lot with showing both the stories and facts in a fair balance, but I think I achieved a fair medium in the end although I did veer off a little from the original story near the end.

I had originally intended to include music and sound effects, but due to time constraints I wasn’t able to record or mix music for the final project. There were also technical issues with this, as on the student computer where I was creating the animation, Chrome would not allow me to download anything from the internet which was crucial to including music and sound effects. Personally I do not feel like this brings down the quality of the animation because it includes a good amount of text which remains on the screen for a while for the viewer to read, and the images are fairly easy to recognise.

In the end I am fairly pleased with the final infographic I created. It didn’t exactly reach the vision that I intended for it, but came very close and I feel it definitely achieves the function it was set out to do. My main gripe with the infographic is the quality of some of the assets, because even though I have the excuse of time constraints and me setting myself less time to make the assets themselves, Illustrator still gives me plenty of chances to make high-quality assets and in hindsight I wish I had done a little more quality control when deciding when an asset was done. Thankfully after the feedback I requests I did manage to change a lot of assets to be more suitable, but I did not manage to fix them all and the few instances where I used the subpar assets do show in my opinion. Namely, I feel the big ‘wave’ that washes the plastic up could stand to look a little more like an actual wave, even though I did struggle a lot when drawing it anyway as I found waves hard to translate into the chosen style of the infographic.

However I think that most of the animation itself went very well. Of course I am no professional by any means in After Effects, but with the knowledge I have I believe I have incorporated a lot of interesting and dynamic effects into this animation, and did some very smooth and interesting transitions between scenes. I am especially proud of the aforementioned circle popping/expanding animations and the puppet pin/parenting trick that I used for the turtle and several other moving assets, and I believe they show that I have retained a good amount of knowledge on how things work in After Effects and how to incorporate them.

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ripley95 · 4 years

Text

Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 12

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 3.6K

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

It’s time for the reception, and nothing seems to go right. The memories of what Shepard used to have with Kaidan are becoming too painful, leading her to make a difficult decision.

Read to Chapter 12 on AO3

Tumblr Links:

Read the chapter here below the cut:

The wedding ceremony concluded and went off without a hitch. Shepard had never seen Libby happier. Granted, she’d only known Libby for a few days, but it was still a nice change to see that she was no longer stressed out or upset. She was finally enjoying this special day that she had worked so hard on, and it brought a smile to Shepard’s face as much as she was suffering on the inside for her own reasons.

After the ceremony, there was a brief period reserved for professional photos, which Shepard hadn’t really expected. Admittedly, she hadn’t actually gone to a wedding before, so she didn’t know what to expect, but she couldn’t help wishing she was more prepared for this particular event. She was glad the Alenko’s would all have these treasured memories, of course. She could imagine these photos being added to the datapad full of other family photos as a treasured memory.

What she wasn’t so fond of, was the fact that she had inevitably been roped into being included in more of them than she cared for. The Alenkos inclusivity and kind gestures were something she typically admired, but in this particular moment, she couldn’t help but think it was a flaw. She figured that she and Kaidan would be parting ways after this wedding. Knowing that, these pictures with her in them would be a sour spot on these otherwise happy memories. Part of her wanted to scream that she and Kaidan weren’t together to get them to stop once and for all, but that would have completely defeated the purpose of her keeping a low profile throughout the wedding. Instead, she stood right next to Kaidan, close enough to feel the heat of his body as she eyed him with the sadness of knowing their goodbye was coming soon. She forced a smile before each click of the camera and hoped it was convincing enough to not ruin Libby’s photos.

Time passed quickly, at least. It was perhaps the only small mercy she’d been granted this whole time. Before she knew it, the reception was already happening. Again, she didn’t know much about what to expect from a wedding, but it was her general understanding that it would be much more relaxed compared to the rest of the day’s events and that seemed to be the case. However, Shepard couldn’t help but feel that something had changed with Kaidan the entire time. He was more quiet and she wasn’t used to it. They shared a comfortable enough dinner passing conversations, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe this misunderstanding was getting to him more than she thought. It was one thing when she was the only one being tortured by the confused feelings and memories of what they used to be. She didn’t know if she could handle him being so hurt about it now too. She didn’t want to put him through that, especially when he was supposed to be celebrating.

She was supposed to be staying with him for the rest of the week until his vacation time was over, but all she could think about now was leaving. Her circumstances hadn’t changed. She still wasn’t about to be assigned housing anytime soon, but she’d done nothing but cause problems the entire time she was here. She didn’t think she could personally take much more of this. Surely she could think of a believable excuse to leave, making sure Kaidan’s family didn’t feel bad about her going on such short notice.

Dinner went by just about as quickly as everything else. Before she knew it, they were all standing to watch Libby and Derek have their first dance as a married couple. Shepard envied the way they looked at each other. Happy. Like having each other was the only thing that mattered. As soon as they were done, the music changed to something more upbeat, encouraging other couples standing on the sidelines to make their way to the dance floor. Shepard and Kaidan stood awkwardly by the edge, watching the fun, barely engaging each other.

“Do you want a drink?” he finally asked.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” she said.

He led them over towards the bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“I’ll take a whiskey,” Kaidan said.

“Make that two,” she amended, appreciating that it was something strong.

“Here you go,” the bartender said, handing them each one.

They turned to leave and started watching the crowd that was now enjoying themselves on the dance floor. They both started nursing their drinks.

Maisie walked up to them, moving to the beat as she made her way from the dance floor.

“What, you guys aren’t going to dance?” She asked with a beaming grin on her face.

Even if this was an ideal situation and she and Kaidan were somehow together, she would have had a good excuse for getting out of this one. She may as well have been a ballerina in the battlefield, but she had absolutely no rhythm when it came to dancing. Unless she wanted to make a mockery of herself, she wasn’t about to go out there. It was one thing in privacy with her crew. Under normal circumstances, she might not even mind letting loose here, but it would have been one more thing to draw attention to her. For the most part, Libby’s already had her magical night, but she still hated the potential to steal it from her, and opted to want to stay on the sidelines.

“I’m afraid I’m a horrible dancer,” Shepard said.

“What?” Maisie asked incredulously, stopping dead in her tracks. “You can’t be serious. You?”

“Oh, she’s telling the truth all right,” Kaidan said from beside her with a snort.

“Hey! You’re one to talk. I seem to remember you making finger guns at that party in my apartment,” she said with a big grin on her face.

“Hey, now, this conversation isn’t about me. Maisie’s already well aware of my dancing abilities.”

“Uh-huh,” Shepard said with a smile that she couldn’t help thinking would wane the moment that Maisie left them alone again.

“Maisie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to draw attention to myself,” Shepard tried to say in a lowered voice.

Shepard turned to Kaidan then, “Shit. She has a point, doesn’t she?”

“I’m afraid she might,” Kaidan said with a smirk.

“Yes! You know I’m always right,” Maisie said with a smile.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Kaidan said, holding his hand out to Jane. “Shall we?”

“Can’t wait to see this,” Maisie said with a smirk.

Maisie took their glasses and Kaidan gave her the tiniest of glares before he and Shepard made their way out onto the dance floor.

“So, do you have a buzz going yet?” Kaidan asked.

Shepard looked at him, slightly amused. “A bit,” she answered.

“Good, because I think it’ll at least help us not be so self-conscious out here,” he said with a smile as he started dancing.

“What?” he said, in mock offense as he stopped dancing immediately, thanks to her outburst. “You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, grabbing his arms to get him to start bopping them again. “It’s just that, I’d say we’re two peas in a pod or something.”

Kaidan saw everyone else around them starting to dance, so he looked back towards her with a smile, holding his hands out in question for her to join him. “I guess we probably should.”

Shepard looked around her, realising the same thing. “Right,” she said as she put her hands in his, and he pulled her closer.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or their lack of experience for dancing, but she thought it was a bit closer than most people typically got as they were slow dancing. So close that their torsos were touching and they couldn’t even see each other unless they pulled their faces apart. Shepard was so naturally inclined to want to rest her head on his shoulder. She wanted to fall into him and let his comfort take away the stress of the last few days as she nestled into him.

She pulled away slightly. “For appearances sake,” she said, remembering that they didn’t want to make this rumour about them being together get any deeper. She had to get a hold of herself. She was doing exactly what she knew she would when she agreed to come out here. It was so easy for this to feel real and she was finally letting that get the better of her.

“Right,” Kaidan muttered. “For appearances,” he said, with a smile that clearly felt forced to Shepard. She had already gone and made it awkward again. Just another reason that her plan to leave tomorrow was becoming more tempting by the minute. She was getting too close, not only to Kaidan but to his whole family now and that wasn’t fair to any of them.

After the song finished, the band got on the microphone. “All right, everybody, before we continue the dancing, we have to do one of the most important parts of the wedding,” they said in an excited tone. “We still have a bouquet toss to do!” they yelled into the mic, clearly trying to get the crowd riled up.

Shepard took that as her opportunity to pull away, leaving her with a pang of guilt, knowing she shouldn’t have let it get that far in the first place. “Do you want to get another drink?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the pain of it.

“All of the people hoping to get a ring on that finger soon, come make your way to the dance floor,” the announcer said.

Kaidan looked back to Shepard. “Yeah, I think that would be a good idea,” he said as they both made their way back to the bar.

“Two more whiskeys,” Kaidan said as they walked up to the bartender again.

He promptly handed them both a glass. Shepard couldn’t help but notice Kaidan taking a big swig of his. She followed suit.

“Jane, what the hell are you doing?” Maisie asked, startling them both to turn around. “This includes you, you know! Come on!” she said, pulling Shepard into the crowd of single people wanting to catch the bouquet.

“Maisie, that’s really not—” Shepard said, trying to protest the action, not wanting to be part of this.

“Don’t be silly, it’s just for fun.”

Shepard didn’t want to fight her or cause a scene by protesting. She relented, and let Maisie pull her out into the crowd. The two of them stayed in the front up close, which was even worse. Shepard would have preferred to blend into the background somewhere, but now she was on display. It would look weird if she wasn’t jumping to grab it, wouldn’t it? Even weirder if she purposely dodged out of the way of it as though it were a grenade. She figured she’d grab it if it headed directly at her, but she wouldn’t be going out of her way to catch it either.

Libby stood at the edge of the dance floor. She turned around so that her back was facing the crowd anticipating her throw. Libby gave them one last glance before she tossed the bouquet. She threw it high, but short, so it wasn’t going to reach the crowd. Everyone was lunging forward in an attempt to catch it.

As the crowd moved forward, they pushed Shepard with them. As much as she was trying to hold herself back, it wasn’t working with everyone else encroaching behind her. She stopped even keeping an eye on the bouquet, just trying not to fall over from the horde of people when it suddenly hit her square in the face. Reflexes took over as she caught it.

That wasn’t good. She gathered that it was only a silly tradition and didn’t really mean anything, but it still left her feeling sullen. It was a symbol for something that wouldn’t be happening with her, at least not with the person she wanted. Not to mention that she didn’t want to add to whatever weird feelings there was with Kaidan now. He’d been through enough with the misunderstandings. Even though it was silly and insignificant, he didn’t need that reminder on top of everything.

Shepard heard clapping from behind her and turned to look. Maisie was jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Yay! Maybe you really will be my sister-in-law!” Maisie said excitedly.

Shepard wanted to let out a hard sigh of frustration, but knew better than to make a scene. Instead, she turned back towards the bar where Kaidan was standing. She couldn’t help but think he looked somewhat dejected. He was immediately distracted by his mother talking into his ear over the noise of the party.

The bouquet-seeking crowd dissipated and Shepard saw Raiya make her way over to her.

“You sure look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Uh… yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ll be honest, I’ve never been to a wedding before. I didn’t really expect something like that to be taken so seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s still just for fun. Don’t let it get to you.” Raiya said.

“Wait, yes, let it get to you!” Maisie jumped in. “I want a sister-in-law. Especially this one,” she said, pointing to Shepard.

Raiya scoffed. “It’s not like some magical spell. It’s not going to miraculously make them get married.”

“No, I know that, but I thought maybe if Kaidan could see her looking happy after catching it, something might click in his brain to make him consider it more. I like her. I want her to be permanent.”

“You can’t play with people’s emotions like that, Maisie. Just let them have their space. They’re clearly trying to figure things out. They don’t need the added pressure. You know, I bet it’s this kind of stuff that made Kaidan not bring anyone home before now.”

“All right, already, I get the point,” Maisie said. “I’m sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay,” Shepard said, knowing the sentiment was innocent enough. “It’s kind of sweet to know you care about me that much already,” Shepard said with a genuine smile, not wanting her to feel bad about it.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty cool. Plus, it’s nice to think of Kaidan being happy.”

Shepard just smiled at her, appreciating the gesture, though she knew deep down that Kaidan was anything but happy right now.

“Well, now I went and made this awkward. I think I hear the dance floor calling my name, so I’ll just give you some space. I really didn’t mean to add pressure, though,” Maisie said.

“It’s fine. Go have fun,” Shepard said, waving the bouquet towards the crowd that had picked up the dancing again.

Maisie took that as permission to leave. Now it was just her and Raiya.

“Try not to take stock in any of that. Not that I wouldn’t want you in our family if that’s the way you guys are naturally headed,” Raiya quickly amended. “But I just know how much pressure that kind of thing can be on a relationship. I know there’s complicated history there, so don’t let it be a burden on that. Maisie’s just really excitable and grasps onto anything that holds her interest for even a minute.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Shepard said with a laugh that Raiya returned.

“But seriously, just don’t let it get to you. It can be overwhelming to meet a family like ours when you guys are still trying to figure out exactly what you are. I think my talk with you earlier probably didn’t help with that. I can see that you care about Kaidan and I don’t think you’d do anything to purposely hurt him. You’re a good person, Jane. I just want you both to do what’s best for you,” Raiya said, looking like she genuinely cared for her, too. It was nice and an important gesture from her after being so protective.

“Thanks for understanding,” Shepard said genuinely.

That made her look back to where Kaidan was previously standing, only to notice that he was gone. Maybe their dance and her catching the bouquet hurt him even more than she feared. She couldn’t blame him after everything that had happened.

“Can you give this back to Libby,” Shepard said, handing the bouquet over to Raiya. In truth, she had no idea what she was supposed to do with it, if she was supposed to keep it or not. Was it bad form to give it back? She didn’t know, but she was also sidetracked, wanting to make sure Kaidan was okay. “I should probably go find Kaidan.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, taking it back.

Shepard headed towards the bar, where he had been standing before this whole debacle and looked through the crowd everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. She figured that a lot of the night’s events probably upset him, but she felt awful that she might have made him feel bad enough to miss out on the celebration. She’d rather talk to him now about her plan to leave so he could still get some enjoyment out of the night.

As she turned through the crowd one last time, she finally saw Ada heading towards her.

“Well, don’t you look like a chicken with its head cut off,” she said with a laugh. “If I had to venture a guess, you’re probably looking for Kaidan, aren’t you?”

“That obvious, huh?” Shepard said with a forced smile.

“Very,” she said teasingly. “I sent him to go get a bottle of wine from the cellar. It’s something I wanted to give to Libby and Derek as a gift, but I forgot to grab it earlier.”

That was actually perfect. Maybe she’d catch him while he was still there and they could have a moment to talk alone away from the crowds.

“Thanks,” Shepard said with a smile of gratitude.

“Don’t mention it,” Ada said with a warm smile.

Shepard took that as her opportunity to leave, exiting the barn, heading towards the house for the cellar. Finally, she’d have her chance to end this misery.

#f!Shenko #f!shepard/Kaidan Alenko #f!Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #mass effect #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #mini slow burn #friends to lovers #angst #accidental dating #my writing #my fic on tumblr

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